University of Botswana (UB) Part 4

My Roommate Ed

Prior to embarking upon my African adventure, I had shared a dorm room three times with three different roommates, all of whom were Japanese study abroad students. Although I did endure passively aggressive tension at times, each of these experiences fostered personal growth. Being from the area and more accustomed to university life in the U.S., I undertook the responsibility of ensuring that each of my roommates felt safe, secure, and could turn to me if they ever needed assistance adjusting to their new environment. Initially, my drive to be a superlative roommate stemmed from my desire to become employed by the study abroad program that allowed these students to learn English at Central Washington University (CWU). My motivation soon changed as I began to revel in the role of being a cultural ambassador. Okay, I’ll admit, I may have been a bit ostentatious in over amplifying my importance in these students’ lives abroad, but compared to a typical roommate who seems to be one of two extremes, either estranged or an overly eager anime freak referred to as a, “Japanophile," I was preeminent. For taking pride in being a good roommate and resource for these students during their time away from home, I believe that the laws of karma repaid me during my time at UB.

Unbeknownst to me, UB runs on what some refer to as, “African time.” African time allows individuals to schedule things loosely and complete or begin tasks at one’s own leisure. For example, if Armani told me to meet him at the Police Bar at 7:00 pm, African time would allot him a two-hour buffer, so I wouldn’t plan to show up until 8:00 pm, at the earliest. And although UB classes were expected to begin on July 31^st, and according to my transcripts they did start on that day, both the professors and students wouldn’t bother attending class until at least a week later. I actually had a class that was cancelled for 11 out of the 15 weeks during my first semester because the instructor was absent due to personal issues. I still passed the class and received full credit despite not acquiring any knowledge relevant to, “Multivariate Techniques For Psychology.” As an academically ambitious American, I was accustomed to adhering to a tight schedule and was flabbergasted and downright annoyed at the lack of punctuality. It took me a few months to adjust.

I anticipated meeting my roommate when I first arrived at UB but because I had arrived a week before classes were scheduled to start, I hardly met any UB students for quite some time. In fact, because no one had shown up to assume their role as my roomy for more than two weeks, I was optimistically assuming that I would have the place to myself as I was hearing other international students complain incessantly about the issues they were having with their fellow dorm dwellers. Lo and behold, my hope for social isolation on the top floor of UB’s infamous Las Vegas block residence hall was not enough to manifest my optimism. Accustomed to the lack of punctuality endemic to Botswana, Ed moved into the room 15 days after my arrival. For those of you that know me, you won’t be surprised that the first thing that stuck out to me about Ed was his name, whom he shares with my brother who I lost to suicide just six years prior.  

However, despite sharing the same name, unlike my brother Eddie, who was a very gregarious and effervescent individual, Ed’s behavior reflected his love for just three things: his family, Hope, and God. The reason I capitalized Hope is because Hope was Ed’s girlfriend, who probably spent more time in the room than I did. Like my brother Eddie, Ed’s stature was prominent, as he stood about 6’3” and was very muscular. Although his size was intimidating, his personality was not. Ed was a kindhearted young man from a rural area in northern Botswana. Part of his ancestry stemmed from Zimbabwe, so Ed spoke Kalanga in addition to Setswana and English. Besides enjoying old cartoons with Hope on the outdated computer monitor given to him by his brother, Ed studied ardently in hopes of becoming an Engineer. Hope on the other hand, who acted as our third roommate, was studying to become a Special Education teacher.

Before Ed arrived, I routinely locked all my valuables in my closet using a sturdy padlock and chain that I would intertwine through the handles on my closet doors. We were told to engage in this cautionary practice by the staff at the international office to prevent theft from burglars, people posing as your friend, and roommates. When leaving my room, I would also ensure that the door to the dorm was locked with the bulky padlock I bought at a Gaborone hardware store. Upon meeting Ed for the first time and entrusting him with the extra key to the bulky padlock protecting us from the thieves at UB, he curiously asked why I felt the need to lock up my valuables every time I left the room. Not wanting to elicit an indignant response, I tactfully explained that during the international student orientation, we had all been advised to take part in this practice as a precautionary measure to prevent theft. And to be honest, not yet aware of the strong sense of integrity Ed possessed, I was skeptical of why he asked. I ignorantly assumed that he didn’t want me to lock my things away so that he, or perhaps his friends, would be granted easier access to my belongings. He would soon retort my assumptions by simply being himself.            

Unlike me, who enjoyed imbibing and risk taking, Ed displayed his diligent demeanor to me through his devotion to Hope and his academics. Although our personalities may seem incongruous, Ed and I bonded as he would help me with my Setswana and I would help him with his writing. And if I was partying in the room with other international students on weekend evenings, I never felt as if I was making Ed uncomfortable as he would eagerly engage in conversations and curiously inquire with questions like, “Why do you guys like drinking?” or, “Where did you buy that stuff and what does it make you feel like when you smoke it?” I, nor any of my friends, ever attempted to pressure him into engaging in such actions because we knew that he was cool enough to tell us if he’d wanted to, but he seemed content just studying and spending time with Hope. Not long after the first day we met, I stopped caring about locking my belongings away in the closet, as I knew that Ed nor Hope would ever consider stealing anything from anyone.

Ed and Hope were the most morally sound couple that I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with. I was blessed to share a room with them. I did not only admire Ed, I aspired to be like him. He had a positive impact on my life and demonstrated how much joy can be derived from monogamy and moral practice. His ethics did not stem solely from Christianity, as he seemed to have an embedded sense of altruism. On more than one occasion, I lent money to some of my Batswana friends and quickly learned that if I was to lend money, I shouldn’t expect to have it repaid. So, despite becoming accustomed to Ed’s moral integrity, when he asked to borrow 50 Pula ($5.50) to treat Hope to pizza, I lent the money not expecting to be paid back. It was a small amount of money and by that point I was beginning to realize how lucky I was to be born in a country with such a high standard of living; I didn’t care if he’d pay me back or not. Less than a week later, Ed strengthened my belief in his ethicality by being the first Motswana to actually pay me back.

After leaving UB, I didn’t hear from Ed for almost a year, and I would’ve been reluctant to believe that he and I would talk again. However, in morally sound Ed-fashion, when he saw my Facebook post about becoming an English teacher in Japan, he Skyped me to say congrats and tell me that Hope was pregnant with their first child.

Me and Ed on the Day I Left Botswana