Capital Expat (August 25, 2006)
There is a running joke in the office about capital expats. To be fair, this is probably just a reflection of our hubris and of the pecking order that expats create wherever they go. Karen (our country director) points to the recently published book on the "White Tribe of Kenya," which is an anthropological exploration of the behavior of different (white) expat communities in Kenya.
The gist of it is that when two expats meet, they shore each other up and try to define one another in the social hierarchy of what it means to "truly" be an Africanist. Here are examples of pecking order questions:
1. Do you live in Kenya? [Yes puts you higher on the ladder]
2. If yes, for how long? [Length of stay, higher still]
3. Did you live in the bush, or in the city? [Bush is bonus points]
4. Have you lived in other African countries? [Yes is more points]
5. Do you speak Swahili? [more bonus points]
6. Do you speak other tribal languages? [even more points if the language is particularly hard or not Bantu, like Maasai or Diluo]
And of course, the butt of most jokes in this pecking order assignment is whether or not you are a capital expat. The stereotypes around these kinds of expats fall into one of two categories. You are either:
1. A backpacker, come to "go native" and explore Darkest Africa on the cheap
2. Ridiculously rich, live in an uber-nice suburb of the capital - for here, something like Karen -, and work for some hoity toity organization like the World Bank, UNDP, or the U.S. Embassy or British High Commission.
We joke that capital expats want the luxuries of the first world with the illusion of being seasoned and hardened travellers. They want swimming pools, internet, gourmet lunches and servants, but they want it at a fraction of the cost of what it would take at home. They don't bother themselves with locals, generally turn up their noses to the natives, and like to detach emotionally from the world around them. They often operate at the level of the transnational, or more specifically the multinational.
When any of us is given to nostalgia for home (e.g. craving a very good caffe latte, or Thai food) we joke that this is a moment of "capital expat" weakness. But it's funny to think how much we are promoting the pecking order in doing this. It's also funny to think of the judgment behind such a statement. While I agree that it is critically important to gain language skills and try to learn as much about local cultures as possible, it is also funny to think one's status in an elite circle precludes this. It's also funny to think of how we beat ourselves up. Why can't a person crave a caffe latte every now and again? At the end of the day, that is the context we come from, and there's a great deal of humility to be had in understanding that we are not Africans, nor will we be Africans, nor can we ever claim authenticity on that point. Regardless of whether we live in a rural area, or speak Swahili, or live here for a few years. What is that really in the great scheme of things?
The gist of it is that when two expats meet, they shore each other up and try to define one another in the social hierarchy of what it means to "truly" be an Africanist. Here are examples of pecking order questions:
1. Do you live in Kenya? [Yes puts you higher on the ladder]
2. If yes, for how long? [Length of stay, higher still]
3. Did you live in the bush, or in the city? [Bush is bonus points]
4. Have you lived in other African countries? [Yes is more points]
5. Do you speak Swahili? [more bonus points]
6. Do you speak other tribal languages? [even more points if the language is particularly hard or not Bantu, like Maasai or Diluo]
And of course, the butt of most jokes in this pecking order assignment is whether or not you are a capital expat. The stereotypes around these kinds of expats fall into one of two categories. You are either:
1. A backpacker, come to "go native" and explore Darkest Africa on the cheap
2. Ridiculously rich, live in an uber-nice suburb of the capital - for here, something like Karen -, and work for some hoity toity organization like the World Bank, UNDP, or the U.S. Embassy or British High Commission.
We joke that capital expats want the luxuries of the first world with the illusion of being seasoned and hardened travellers. They want swimming pools, internet, gourmet lunches and servants, but they want it at a fraction of the cost of what it would take at home. They don't bother themselves with locals, generally turn up their noses to the natives, and like to detach emotionally from the world around them. They often operate at the level of the transnational, or more specifically the multinational.
When any of us is given to nostalgia for home (e.g. craving a very good caffe latte, or Thai food) we joke that this is a moment of "capital expat" weakness. But it's funny to think how much we are promoting the pecking order in doing this. It's also funny to think of the judgment behind such a statement. While I agree that it is critically important to gain language skills and try to learn as much about local cultures as possible, it is also funny to think one's status in an elite circle precludes this. It's also funny to think of how we beat ourselves up. Why can't a person crave a caffe latte every now and again? At the end of the day, that is the context we come from, and there's a great deal of humility to be had in understanding that we are not Africans, nor will we be Africans, nor can we ever claim authenticity on that point. Regardless of whether we live in a rural area, or speak Swahili, or live here for a few years. What is that really in the great scheme of things?
posted by Camille @ 3:50 AM
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