Pole Pole: Living life more gently.

“Pole Pole!” exclaimed the local gentleman as we cycled past. He was sitting peacefully, in a band of companions, on a long stone bench at the edge of what is known as Jaws Corner – a space where local Zanzibaris gather to drink black coffee, socialise and talk politics, whilst watching passers-by. Including, evidently, watching out for the safety of ourselves! There were five of us on bicycles that were trying to, somewhat unsuccessfully, navigate one of the many narrow alleyways that are characteristic to historical Stone Town.

‘Pole Pole’ is a popular Swahilli saying. It means to go slowly, and gently. It didn’t take us long to notice that the phrase is often voiced from locals to foreigners, with what appears to be a concerned and protective tone. And I wonder whether this is because they are startled by the fast, often frazzled, tempo that we foreigners - from Western society – move in.

This different pace of life shaped a conversation I had with a local man in a queue at the ATM a few weeks ago. The queue was only four people deep. But it was incredibly slow moving. Or rather, it was not moving for quite some time. When the person who was occupying the ATM finally exited the tiny booth that housed it, her walking tour guide joked about how many millions she must have withdrawn to have taken so long! 

The local man, who was queuing directly in front of me, then commented “Well this is Africa. Everything is slow in Africa!” He turned to me and proceeded to compare it to other parts of the world, with a hint of deprecation in his voice. He explained that although he was a local Zanzibari himself, he had recently spent time studying in Kuala Lumpa, and therefore had become accustomed to a life of advanced systems and technology. And generally, a much speedier pace of living. He further proposed, “we have a lot to learn here to catch up to the rest of the world.” 

He was referring to what is commonly described as ‘Africa Time’ - the perceived cultural tendency toward a more relaxed attitude to time. There is much discussion and debate around the side effects of this tendency. The term can be used in a pejorative sense – ascribing the nonchalant attitude towards time and punctuality as a major barrier to efficiency and progress. Or it can be used with admiration - to illustrate the more relaxed, and less rigorously scheduled, lifestyle found in African countries. There are two very obvious sides to this Africa Time ‘coin’.

I think about the beating heart of Stone Town – Zanzibaris spending the day sitting out the front of their home and shops, companionly beside their fellow villagers, with a deep presence and patience filling their state of being. Most will turn their heads and eyes towards you as you walk by. Most will offer a friendly ‘Jambo’, which seems to be a stark contrast to the increasing avoidant behaviour in Western culture of averting our gazes when passing strangers; we’re too busy, too awkward, and too in our heads. 

In a culture where actions speak louder than words, the qualities of presence and patience - two very close cousins of slowness - appear to be an integral part of the African way of being. These alluring qualities are nicely described by Blanc (2013) in his essay - ‘Keeping Time in Africa- the Concept of Time’:

“Walk, drive around Africa and you will see people sitting, chatting, waiting. You come by a few hours later and they have not moved. Are they not bored? No, the African enjoys and savors the time before them. There is not the anxiousness to do this or that, to meet this deadline or that one. It is not the clock that rules the day... but the relationship.”

For many of us in Western society, this state of presence is experienced via a yoga mat, with eyes closed, at time that is booked in our calendar. We may ‘carve-out’ time for presence. Yet we typically find it much harder to embody it throughout our day. 

This was highlighted in the observation I made only days after arriving on the island. I noticed the curious, and slightly puzzled, looks I was getting from locals when I started carrying my keep cup (filled with the delicious instant ‘Africafe’ coffee I make at home) scurrying through the Stone Town laneways on my way to work. It did not take long to realise that there are no other keep cups in sight. But most notably, there aren’t any disposable coffee cups either. Because there is no take-away coffee. People drink their coffee at home, at the coffee shop or whilst gathering in the streets. Either way, they are stationary. They will move on only after they have patiently enjoyed their hot beverage - completely doable given the lack of sense of the time pressure that is so familiar to Western culture.

This time pressure is one of the main features of the unfavourable side of the Western culture ‘coin’ – the downside to technological progression. The more we invent our life to move fast, the faster we demand it to be. We are glued to our screens, rather than connected to the happenings in our streets. The idea of having slowness and stillness in our our day can seem more uncomfortable than the exhaustion we feel from running through it. And not only are we running towards, and consumed by, what’s ahead, but we are soaring away from the presence and patience that captures the essence of the ‘being’ in human.

There is no question that we, developed nations, need more ‘pole pole’ sprinkled into our day. But perhaps the most pertinent part of this phrase is the second part – to ‘go gently’. To go gently, is to go with care. To care, we need to pay attention. To pay attention, with purpose, is… mindfulness. In this way, to go gently is to be mindful.

Consistently with the essence of mindfulness, perhaps our need for more ‘pole pole’ is not so much about changing what is, but bringing awareness to what already is. Including to that which we cannot change. And given the speed of technological progression is something that we can’t change, it’s not necessarily about slowing this down, but perhaps bringing more awareness to HOW we are living this faster pace of life. To pay attention to when we are ‘running’ by noticing our expectations, our reactions, and the general energy and attitude we bring to our way of moving through this technologically dependent modern-day world.

This appeared to ring true at the closing of my interaction with the local man at the ATM. When it was finally his turn to use the teller, he turned around and invited me to go before him. I hesitated. And when I began to resist his unnecessarily kind gesture, feeling uncomfortable about making him wait even longer, he stopped me. In contrast to his initial reaction to the long wait, he now seemed relaxed. He had softened. He smiled and said, “That is the African way”.

And so, I have still been pouring my Africafe coffee in my keep cup ‘to go’. And I am still, quite often, walking with some haste in order to make my 8am client. But I don’t drink the coffee whilst I walk. And, even in my quickened step, I simultaneously lift my gaze to the myriad of window shutters being pushed open, like arms stretching wide to wake up to the day. And I remind myself to soak up the wonderfully predictable chorus of ‘Jambos’ from the early rises who have already found their ‘spot on the mat’ for another day of being. And it is only once I arrive at my desk, that I then take my first sip. And I sip gently.