Situations

Marius writes:

This blogpost contains the first contriubtion to a collection of
situations in which you might just find yourself while living, working
and adapting to a new country and culture.

1) Sudden soap and perfume-attack:


After a long day of work and Arabic/Hassania lessons, we were out with
our host mother to look at the sunset from a small hill in the
outskirts of the Layoune Refugee Camp. Indeed a normal activity, the
sunsets in the desert are truly magical.

After watching the golden ball drop down behind the weak lights of
Tindouf, we headed home. On our way lived one of our host mother's
friends, and we went in to visit her. It was to be a (by Sahrawi
standards) very short visit, only an hour or so, as dinner was cooking
at home. Nevertheless, we entered and greeted mothers, brothers,
grandmothers, children, cats and goats alike. The greetings session is
a relieving and reassuring custom, and makes you feel welcome wherever
you are. We went into the living room, for the regular refreshments
and snacks.

The water and mango juice was served, accompanied by World Food
Programme Biscuits (to which Bjørnar exclaimed: "Are anybody
contemplating the fact that we are eating other people's WFP
biscuits?"). It was as tasty as that threesome can get, which is in
fact not bad at all. The conversation was flowing well, we were
showing and shown pictures of families and friends and whatnot.

A few moments later, we had slipped into a conversation in Norwegian
while our host mother and her friends enthusiastically discussed
something in Hassaniya. For some reason unknown, the hostess brought
forth a bucket containing various cleaning artifacts (fabric softener,
parfume, airfreshner, deodorant).

We perceived the initial spray of deodorant as a polite gesture,
indicating that perhaps this Norwegian delegation should entitle
itself to a few more weekly washes. However, when she moved onto the
fabric softener, we knew we were in for a proper cultural shock.

As the hostess continued to pour various soaps, lotions and
well-scented products over us (that is on our clothes, on our heads,
under our arms and all around), we could not help but burst into
laughter. We were literally rolling on the floor laughing, while the
Sahrawis present were amused by our confused amusement. It was a
situation to which no prep course could prepare us, and no
indoctrinations of cultural tolerance and understanding could prevent
our laughter. Our sole thought was: "This is freakin hilarous!".

Eventually, we were told that this intense spray-session was a
culturally accepted gesture, a remedy for the lack of general washing
facilities. It is a token of respect and friendship, really. We (and
our clothes) did indeed smell of soap and clean bathroom for the next
few days, whether this is an improvement is debatable. Regardless,
there were only good intentions behind it, and we now know another
unexpected thing to expect. We learn everything that cannot be taught.

Only in the Sahara!