Something I love about my new job is the cacophony of cultures I am exposed to on a daily basis. Whether I am in the Atlanta office or traveling abroad - I am surrounded by a menagerie of different paths, identities, histories… On a recent trip to Uganda, for a training on Polio eradication, I had the opportunity to explore the country, reflect on diversity of its training participants, and get to know my coworkers’ backgrounds more (because that’s what anthropologists do for fun). Uganda sits in the middle of the continent, along the largest lake in Africa (Victoria). I thought it would be comparable to Malawi, they are both agricultural communities situated around large tropical lakes, and there were only a few of similarities – free-range dogs who looked like to Lilo (our Malawian dog we brought home last year), signs advertising for hair braiding and imported Chinese goods, and the spicy smell of campfires and earth. As it turns out, however, Uganda is what I imagined Malawi to be when I returned last year (after 5 years had passed since Peace Corps) but had not become. In Malawi the fishermen work in dugout canoes made from hollowed logs, while in Uganda the fisherman all have wooden boats made from processed wood hammered together into actual seafaring vessels. Malawi is turning into a desert landscape as trees and wildlife disappear due to deforestation and over hunting, but Uganda is lush allowing the wildlife to flourish and the landscape to remain tropical. The main highway in Malawi is two-lane, potholed and runs through the middle of small towns (leading to high traffic accidents and horrific pedestrian fatality rates), Uganda just completed a four-lane toll road lined with fences to keep bikes, children, and goats at a safe distance. Lake Malawi is so overfished that people are deduced to eating mostly ‘usipa’ (small sardine like fish), while Lake Victoria produces a plethora of Nile Parch and Tilapia the size of a grown man’s arm. Uganda is not perfect (the president just did away with age and term limits so he could maintain his 32 year reign), but the people are enjoying more of what I wish I could have seen in Malawi (Half of the population in Malawi live in poverty, while Uganda sits around 17%). Back to the training, the differences across the participants was an anthropological gold mine. First, those colonized by France – spoke French, and those colonized by England – spoke English. There were a few impressive individuals who could speak both languages, but for the most part hard lines were drawn by their colonial history. In fact, two men were raised in neighboring villages along the Nigeria/Benin border - they have surnames which come from the same tribe but one spoke French and the other English. These lines were so defined that it even determined whether they took tea or coffee during break time (the French took coffee while the English had tea). Moreover, their level of engagement was dictated by their culture. Those from West Africa spoke a lot – they had an answer to every question and a question for every answer. Those from the Horn of Africa only spoke when pushed to do so, they were partially shy (as one Ethiopian man explained to me) but also didn’t see the need to talk for ‘talking’ sake. Our Liberian colleagues spoke with pride and slight American undertones (they are part of the ‘back to Africa’ movement created by African-Americans seeking to escape slavery). Those from countries boarding the Arab world would leave for prayers, while our Southern African guests made an effort to find local churches for Sunday worship. Those from richer nations could be seen taking outings on evenings or weekends, while those who’ve lived a lifetime in frugality stayed in and ate from local markets. To those who say Africa is a country – their tribal histories and colonial past have made very sure they remain distinctly different. (Above is a zoo turned nature reserve that we visited over the weekend. Note that Jane Goodall was also seen at one of her Chimpanzee Reserves).
Another gem from my trip was the chance to get to know my coworkers more. We often shared meals or evening walks around the grounds, and in that time I learned that there is diversity just a cubicle away. One very engaging dinner conversation had us discussing the highly complex workings of kinship, weddings, and inheritance … One gentleman from India told us a story about how he was called home from university to marry someone he had never met. Within a month (having not seen her before the day of his wedding) he was married to a woman who he would spend the next twenty years with (they are still together today). According to their traditions, love will grow with time as long as the match is well made. In this case it was an astrological chart made by the bride’s parents that proved to the groom’s parents that their future was ‘written in the stars’. In another story, a co-worker from west Africa had to return to his fiancé’s village to pay a bride price in order to assure her unruly relatives would not cause chaos in their home region. Neither of them live there anymore, nor did they particularly feel that a ‘blessing’ was needed – but in a world where law and order remain rooted in tradition – it would assure peace. During these evening after work discussions, one person from the Caribbean brought up how America is one of the few places in the world where nursing homes exist at such a large scale – and how you would never see someone from her home country put their parents a nursing home. Seeing the opportunity to explain a bit of my culture – I pointed out that in some instances it may be neglect from the children, but in my family’s case my great-grandmother was too fiercely independent. The idea of relying on her children to take care of her was out of the question. Being in her ‘assisted living facility’ she could go to BINGO if she wanted and make new relationships with people her age without the need for someone to drive her. In our culture independence pushes children out of their family homes after graduation and encourages the elderly to stay in their own homes for as long as possible. But in other worlds the children stay home until they are married and the moment a child can support their parents – the parent moves back in with the child. Through traveling, asking questions, and being open to interpreting the world through someone else’s eyes we can begin to better understand our own… and how to exist in a world full of plurality. I wish I could take some of my fellow Americans, those with their minds closed to the outside world, to these places and show they why there are refugees, immigrants, religious diversity, those to drink tea rather than coffee…. Because we are the subject of our histories – and if we want our children to know a different reality then we need to work today to change their past.
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Bonnie HarveyCurrently working in northern Malawi as Programs and Evaluations Coordinator for Temwa Archives
June 2019
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