before too long, i learned to accept being excitedly called “azungu” everywhere we went by smiling and responding with “ntu” (people). i mean, i can’t deny or hide the fact that i’m white, and it’s crippling to let guilt keep me from being happy, so why not return the cheerful greeting, right?
at the same time, though, it wasn’t as easy to accept any special treatment that we seemed to receive, like when we went out to Selengo and later to Mponela (2 rural villages, each with a Ministry of Hope feeding center for the orphans and vulnerable children). on both occasions, we (the visiting guests) were asked to sit in chairs and eat inside the office, rather than being able to eat outside with the children. as you might imagine, heather and i preferred to sit among the people instead of eating off on our own somewhere, but we quickly learned that it’s a sign of respect that all guests (no matter their origin) should sit and eat indoors… so, out of respect for our hosts, we did what was expected of us even though this “special” treatment made us uncomfortable.
there are a few interesting and noteworthy signs of respect, however, that we noticed, used and felt good about sharing with others. for example:
· you always greet each & every person in a particular setting by saying hello and asking how each person is (no matter how many people ask those same people before you).
· as you extend your right hand to shake someone’s hand (that you respect), your left hand holds your right forearm just in front of the elbow.
· if you pass by an elder (typically an elder woman who might be carrying stuff on her head) while walking along a path out in “the bush” or even through a rural village, you softly & repeatedly claps your hands as you ask how she is, in passing.
· if you need to speak with someone, you approach quietly and wait at a distance (perhaps even kneeling down) until you’re noticed by the requested party.
· “washing” your hands before a meal (especially since everyone eats with their hands): one of the hosts (typically the woman) pours a pitcher of water over each person’s hands and into a small basin.
then there are some interesting cultural norms that you might not expect, like:
· helping yourself to whatever food you want without asking
· showing up unannounced
· sweeping & mopping everything once or twice a day but then dumping everything in an open-air landfill in the backyard
· event-oriented schedules instead of time-oriented ones
· no response to a sneeze
· being quick to translate (in a public speech) but not necessarily quick to understand (one-on-one)(makes you wonder how much of the message was really relayed)
· road blocks for no apparent reason
· “airtime” sold in units for cellphones as well as land-lines
· free-range goats (galore!)
· public wedding announcements at church and on TV (because everyone’s invited to everyone’s wedding here)…
the list could go on and on, but i can’t. i’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
Showing posts with label malawi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label malawi. Show all posts
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Thursday, August 02, 2007
the warm heart of Africa
with a landmass only the size of Pennsylvania, Malawi cradles the third largest lake in Africa. most of the terrain we've seen (only in the Central region) is red dirt carpeted by dried grass and sprinkled with palms, fruit trees, huge baobab trees and other various deciduous trees that you might find in a semi-arid climate. in the rainy season, it's hot and the earth floods, and rural people who risk settling in the lower elevations lose everything -- their grey or red clay-brick homes with grass-thatched roofs, their goats or cattle, and their crops... right now, though, it's dry and quite mild in temperature.
i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.
another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.
in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.
the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.
another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)
as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.
i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.
i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.
in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.
the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.
another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.
i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
take courage
at the end of her two-and-a-half-month stay in Malawi, our new friend Brittany shared with us this very insightful quote from Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis (170), and since suffering (in its many forms) has been weighing quite a bit on my mind lately, i thought i'd share it here, too.
"Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. But the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. It is what we all need -- hope that comes not from going around suffering but from going through it."
"Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. But the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. It is what we all need -- hope that comes not from going around suffering but from going through it."
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Maputo back to Joburg and onto Lilongwe
whether it's serving at a ministry for boys that live on the street (as i mentioned previously) or it's visiting a small orphanage, school and community church outside of town (as we did our last day in Maputo), i suppose my perspectives, my world view, my critiques and my faith will be challenged throughout this trip... so i've decided to surrender to myself to the Present, soak in each incredible experience, enjoy the opportunities that arise on this journey, and learn to trust God in the Process... that's where my personal journal and reflecting comes in.
as for our time in Mozambique, it was short but very sweet. our North Carolina friend Lisa hooked us up with great contacts, wonderful experiences and an incredible place to stay (in an old portuguese-style mansion with missionaries henrick and madalena). heather describes our time there in great detail, but there a few other things worth mentioning...
like the morning that 2 police officers stopped us on the street to have a look at our passports. i was already stressed-out about our then unsecured travel plans to Malawi, so the last thing i wanted was to deal with government officials absconding our passports and/or wanting bribes in return (not that that would happen but a valid fear here nevertheless)... my heart raced as heather handed them over, and my mind busily conjured up a defense to pose in portuguese, if the situation would have turned to that... fortunately, it didn't, and the officers eventually gave our passports back to us. (we later found out that the gov't issued a new immigration policy, so non-nationals were being stopped & checked more frequently.)
then, there was our visit to the Maputo Central Market with matthais (a friend and fellow missionary of henrick). from the moment we arrived, we were inundated with offers from all kinds of people wanting to watch our car for us while we passed through the market or trying to sell us the goods that they carried with them (sunglasses, cologne, african tapestries, pineapples, magnets, pirated DVD movies). heather got a kick out of it, but i just got annoyed and felt much less likely to buy anything anyway...
the same sort of thing happened when we went to the Saturday morning craft market--a small square lined with beautiful Batik tapestries, wooden & soap-stone carvings, some jewelry and paintings, among other crafts, and bustling with capitalists and consumers a like. it was impossible to walk through without being invited to "come closer" or desperately offered "a very good price." lucky for heather, she didn't understand what they said; however, since i understood, i felt bad ignoring them or asking them to just let us browse the market in peace... again, i know for a fact that this scene is something we'll come across all over the world, so i better get used to it.
as for Maputo, according to a few of our new friends there, it is a very different city than it was just 7 years ago when the rainfall and flood waters almost completely covered all of Mozambique. before that, it was a simple town with little infrastructure (though the streets are still plagued with potholes) and less police enforcement (though crime is on the rise). during the flood relief, though, many people supposedly took advantage of the government's "open door" to the influx of goods & services, so in came TVs, cars and whatever people could get their hands on... from there, the city began to grow more steadily. although, there is still some reminisce of the portuguese colonization, like the language, the 2-kiss greeting or farewell, and the relaxed atmosphere... however, it's interesting to note that there are fewer white nationals and more derelict colonial architecture than you would find in the neighboring countries like South Africa or Swaziland, because when Mozambique declared independence, the portuguese supposedly just dropped everything and left the country... in fact, almost all the white folks you see there today either work for an NGO, serve as missionaries or stay for a short time as tourists.
anyway, on monday, we left in a hurry because we managed to catch a lift back to Joburg with some random missionary folks that we met through our host madalena... and, in Joburg, we stayed with some amazing 3rd-degree friends of heather's. through them (and truly by the grace of God), we made some more incredible contacts, most of whom we plan to connect with when we return from Malawi... and one of which had a huge impact on me when we sat in on a Bible study with them.
in the meantime, we've just arrived at the Ministry of Hope in Lilongwe (by plane and chauffer from the airport just before the president of Malawi arrived by his own jet and escort)... so it may take me a few days or so to sum up what it's like here... stay tuned.
as for our time in Mozambique, it was short but very sweet. our North Carolina friend Lisa hooked us up with great contacts, wonderful experiences and an incredible place to stay (in an old portuguese-style mansion with missionaries henrick and madalena). heather describes our time there in great detail, but there a few other things worth mentioning...
like the morning that 2 police officers stopped us on the street to have a look at our passports. i was already stressed-out about our then unsecured travel plans to Malawi, so the last thing i wanted was to deal with government officials absconding our passports and/or wanting bribes in return (not that that would happen but a valid fear here nevertheless)... my heart raced as heather handed them over, and my mind busily conjured up a defense to pose in portuguese, if the situation would have turned to that... fortunately, it didn't, and the officers eventually gave our passports back to us. (we later found out that the gov't issued a new immigration policy, so non-nationals were being stopped & checked more frequently.)
then, there was our visit to the Maputo Central Market with matthais (a friend and fellow missionary of henrick). from the moment we arrived, we were inundated with offers from all kinds of people wanting to watch our car for us while we passed through the market or trying to sell us the goods that they carried with them (sunglasses, cologne, african tapestries, pineapples, magnets, pirated DVD movies). heather got a kick out of it, but i just got annoyed and felt much less likely to buy anything anyway...
the same sort of thing happened when we went to the Saturday morning craft market--a small square lined with beautiful Batik tapestries, wooden & soap-stone carvings, some jewelry and paintings, among other crafts, and bustling with capitalists and consumers a like. it was impossible to walk through without being invited to "come closer" or desperately offered "a very good price." lucky for heather, she didn't understand what they said; however, since i understood, i felt bad ignoring them or asking them to just let us browse the market in peace... again, i know for a fact that this scene is something we'll come across all over the world, so i better get used to it.
as for Maputo, according to a few of our new friends there, it is a very different city than it was just 7 years ago when the rainfall and flood waters almost completely covered all of Mozambique. before that, it was a simple town with little infrastructure (though the streets are still plagued with potholes) and less police enforcement (though crime is on the rise). during the flood relief, though, many people supposedly took advantage of the government's "open door" to the influx of goods & services, so in came TVs, cars and whatever people could get their hands on... from there, the city began to grow more steadily. although, there is still some reminisce of the portuguese colonization, like the language, the 2-kiss greeting or farewell, and the relaxed atmosphere... however, it's interesting to note that there are fewer white nationals and more derelict colonial architecture than you would find in the neighboring countries like South Africa or Swaziland, because when Mozambique declared independence, the portuguese supposedly just dropped everything and left the country... in fact, almost all the white folks you see there today either work for an NGO, serve as missionaries or stay for a short time as tourists.
anyway, on monday, we left in a hurry because we managed to catch a lift back to Joburg with some random missionary folks that we met through our host madalena... and, in Joburg, we stayed with some amazing 3rd-degree friends of heather's. through them (and truly by the grace of God), we made some more incredible contacts, most of whom we plan to connect with when we return from Malawi... and one of which had a huge impact on me when we sat in on a Bible study with them.
in the meantime, we've just arrived at the Ministry of Hope in Lilongwe (by plane and chauffer from the airport just before the president of Malawi arrived by his own jet and escort)... so it may take me a few days or so to sum up what it's like here... stay tuned.
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