The Journey Inward

I grew up in the Northeast, which comes with a rapid speed and expectations of efficiency. There is an impatience in the tri-state area that permeates everything…restaurant service, lines at the post office, slow left lane drivers. It is what I know and apparently what my body knows.

I had several interesting encounters over the last few weeks that really made me take note of a major difference between the Northeast and South Africa. It has to do with priorities.

When I came back in January, I started a ritual of getting coffee on Monday mornings for my team. The very first time I went, I was a bit nervous about being late because there was a line of cars in front of me at the kiosk and the man coming to the car windows would chat while the man in the truck would make the drinks. Then the first man would put on lids, label cups and bring the drinks to the car, collecting money. But then it was my turn and we chatted away happily. It was such a nice Monday start.

Last weekend, I went on Sunday morning to get some tea and coffee. The same man took my order and commented, “You are always smiling.”

I replied, “There’s always something to smile about.”

“I think that smile is deep in your heart,” he said. I was touched. As I drove off, he said, “See you tomorrow morning!”

The next morning, we were both there. After I ordered, he said he’d been thinking about what I’d said and wondered that if I felt happiness and joy so deeply, did I also feel anger and sadness just as strongly to balance it out. I said I did not, but I thought about what he’d said my whole way to work.

Another morning I was shopping at an American store that was having a huge end of season sale. I got in a long line and noticed that both cashiers were chatting amiably to their customers and that one had stopped ringing and was just chatting. My whole body tensed. I willed her to keep ringing, ready for the grumbles from the people in line. The suggestions of how she could do her job better. The demand for a manager. I got Marshalls at Christmastime vibes. The cashier then recommended the customer go back for something. She didn’t push the items to the side and take the next customer, she just waited. My body tensed even more. But a quick survey of the line showed no outward emotion at all.

When it was my turn to be rung up, the woman said that if I got a fizzy water, I could get the flip flops for less. Wanting to speed this along, I said, “Sure. Where is it?”

“Down there,” she replied, indicating a refrigerator way at the end of the registers. I grabbed it quickly, not wanting to frustrate anyone.

I left realizing that my body held an expectation from decades of living in an “efficient” culture that anything less would not be tolerated. But that was not the case here.

My last example is that I was at the butcher and asked the woman behind the counter, “Excuse me, do you have rashers?” She straightened up and said, “Good morning! How are you today?” I felt ashamed, apologized for my rudeness and we chatted for several minutes before getting down to business.

South Africans do not value efficiency at all costs. They value connection. It is evident in nearly every encounter they have. It occurred to me that back in NJ people are grumpy from waiting in line and take that frustration into the parking lot and out on the roads and just feel angry a lot. They are racing to the next thing, even if the next thing is just home.

South Africans don’t miss an opportunity to connect. And it’s not perfunctory or polite. They want to know the answer. And they are happy to share theirs. Is it time well spent in their opinion.

My body is relaxing as my soul finds a place that it feels at home. A place where people are prioritized over time and money. You can sit for hours at a restaurant and you won’t be presented with a bill until you ask. It doesn’t arrive with your coffee so that the table can be wiped down and the next tipping customer seated.

It’s a breath of fresh air.