25th Birthday in Swaziland

If you would’ve asked me as a kid where I’d be when I was 25, never in a million years would my answer be “in Africa”. Now I’ve been living in Liberia for 16 months and have traveled to South Africa, Swaziland, and Ghana. How incredible is that?

Customs Checkpoint Entering Mbabane, Swaziland

Swazi Flag

Alright, so the morning of my birthday, I woke up just before dusk to go on a short run around the backpackers in Mbabane ("Ma-ba-neh"), the capital of Swaziland. Let me tell you, I have definitely acclimatized to tropical West Africa and down south it was COLD. Never did I think I’d job wearing gloves in Africa! I ran on some winding roads, climbing up and down the red, rocky, dusty hillsides and was fortunate enough to be able to see the sun rise from behind a mountain backdrop. It which was gorgeous. I also spotted a monkey running up a tree, which I found surprising because the area was residential, and then I almost run up into a tree, too. "Why?" you ask. Well, because a giant, scary guard dog was barking ferociously at me and started chasing me. Fortunately, it was in a fenced-in yard, however I didn’t notice the fence until AFTER my heart skipped a couple beats and I screamed. Thank goodness for that fence!

View of Mbabane

When I finished my run, I could see the steam rising from my skin up into the cold, foggy, morning air. I stretched small out on the gravel road, then walked back inside the BP, singing to myself the end of a hip-hop song I had been listening to on my run. As I entered the BP, I was met with a surprise birthday breakfast! I sat on the floor of the dining area and stretched some more while the girls sang me “Happy Birthday”. When I stood up, I fully surveyed the spread on the table, and this is what I saw: 

The Breakfast of Champions

You know there was a PCV involved in the planning of this breakfast because there was a match in my cupcake! Hey, when you don’t have candles available, you have to be resourceful, right? And who needs fancy glasses to drink out of when you have giant chicken-soup cups? The girls had planned for me to have a morning mimosa as well, but they accidentally bought the alcohol-free variety. I was fine with the mistaken purchase though; I didn’t want to start drinking right at 7 A.M., and really, who wants to drink when they’re already slightly dehydrated? Not me! But it was the thought that counted, and I felt very fortunate to be able to celebrate my birthday with such caring friends.

The day before, we visited a craft market, which was a really interesting experience. In Liberia, there aren’t really any crafts that are locally-made. Beads come from China, clothing items come from the States, and the lappa fabric comes from Guinea. So, I was a little more than excited to be able to buy some authentic, locally-made crafts, and consequentially, that’s where the majority of my money was spent during the trip. (I literally had $0.40 US in cash when I left South Africa at the end of my trip and no plastic. Not smart, I know, but somehow at all worked out.) I was purchasing items that I could use to decorate a U.S. house I don’t even have yet!

Anyways, we separated and went into different shacks to browse the stock of items for sale:  paintings, figurines, bowls, jewelry, fabrics, etc. I began chatting with the women, asking their names and about the process of producing the crafts I was interested in purchasing. This helped me get brownie points while haggling! The vendors were much less aggressive than those from Liberia, and I found that just taking the 30 seconds to chat with them small when you first walked into their stall made a world of difference. I learned that one of the woman’s cousins makes all the crafts she sells and another woman’s name begins with a click! (How cool is that?!) I even found myself using small Liberian English while talking with them, which has a different cadence and intonation than the English spoken in Swazi, of course, but it seemed to help. Also, once I mentioned that I was visiting from Liberia, West Africa, that usually got me brownie points, and I was able to talk them down a little more. So I didn’t get as ripped off as I could have. I am SO my father's daughter.

In the Craft Market