If I am honest with myself and with others, I will tell them that I don’t really feel like I live in Uganda. Now, let me put this into context by saying that I also don’t feel like an adult. But it really rang true one day when I was talking with my sister. She reminded me that I am living in Uganda for some reason, and I told her, “No, Uganda is too exotic.” It also rings true every morning when I think my sister is going to be next to me and my parents in the other room – or that I’m going to head out to go to school to study rather than teach.
I have written previously about the harassment I receive whenever I leave my school, about how in this country I am exotic. I know that I will never entirely fit in due to the difference between my culture and this one, but seeing as I’m only one month shy of having spent an entire year in Uganda, I try my best to fit in every day. There has become a distinction between “American Bethany” and “Ugandan Bethany” in my mind. When, on many Saturdays, I don pants (called “trousers” here) and a t-shirt and head to town, I feel very American. I am choosing not to blend in as such. This is not to say that Ugandan women don’t wear trousers and t-shirts, but they tend to like to look “smart,” or well dressed, especially when they are in town.
In Kampala, this is especially true. I choose to do things like eat and walk at the same time even though I know it is a little rude because in Kampala I’m “just another muzungu.” (And because these things are more accepted since the culture of Kampala has become fairly westernized.) Sometimes it is nice to escape the pressure of fitting in with a culture that is not yours. Sometimes it is nice not to wear a skirt and to worry if it’s going to ride up while walking or to worry if something I’m doing is inadvertently rude. I find this distinction strange in my mind, though.
I have never been one to act differently in different spaces, at least as much as possible. Growing up in church, it is easy to have “Church Bethany” and “Home Bethany” and “School Bethany,” etc. I never bought that, though. I am simply “Bethany.” When you ask my friends, my church family, and my home family who I am, they will all probably tell you that I am loud, excitable, a loving mom to many, and so much more, but the point is that they will tell you many of the same things. Sure, I don’t talk as much when I’m with my extended family as I do when I’m with my friends, but that is because with my extended family, I am in the second to bottom generation in age. I respect my elders. (Plus they talk a lot about things I’m not necessarily as interested in like politics and people I don’t know.)
In Uganda, though, I constantly have the feeling that I am a different person because I am trying to fit in with the culture. I am trying not to be exotic. I am quieter both in conversation and in volume, more of an introvert, read a lot more, and I am not quite as excitable. “Ugandan Bethany” is very different from American Bethany except in one sense: I will always be a loving mom to many. I have gotten used to blending in, and it sometimes keeps me from expressing my true feelings, although not as often as one might thing. I have come to like Ugandan Bethany more over the time I’ve been here. I am realizing that I don’t have to be loud in order to be heard, that waiting to speak helps me not to say such rash things. Just because I am quiet doesn’t mean I am not listening or absorbing. I am so much more observant here. I have grown to appreciate the small things, especially those that aren’t so different between Ugandans and Americans.
Because, really, that’s it. Ugandans and Americans aren’t that different. Uganda is not some exotic country. Ugandans live a fairly similar life to Americans even without all the electronics and busyness. Yes, absolutely, this culture is different than ours, but different doesn’t mean wrong or bad or exotic. Different means different, perhaps unfamiliar. There is so much more we can learn from Ugandans than the media tells us. According to the media, Uganda is some helpless African country with poor, dying children. It’s true. But it’s also true of the US to some extent.
Uganda is even more “advanced” than the US in some areas. Take religious tolerance. Ugandans are so kind to everyone of any religion. They respect the Muslim minority so much that even Christian Ugandans know about Islam. It is very well understood that Muslims pray five times per day, and when a Muslim steps out to do so, no one bats and eyelash. Everyone knows when Muslim holidays are, and everyone takes off from school and work during those days. The same is true of men and women who wear traditional Muslim dress. Going to church, or “praying,” is such a pillar of Ugandan culture that they don’t care which church you go to. They only care about the fact that you go. Sure, they could learn from the US about tolerance of those without religion, but no place is perfect. (And people in the US who do not practice religion also have a difficult time.) This is just the one example I can come up with off the top of my head. I could discuss gardening, friendliness, trusting others, and so much more.
I honestly believe that I will see more differences between Uganda and America when I go back during Christmas. It’s like when you’re at the eye doctor and s/he asks you if 2 or 3 is clearer. You have to go back to 2 to realize that 3 is clearer. (Or you’re like me and really just can’t see any difference between 2 and 3.) But please be careful of how you speak about African countries and peoples, though. No place is exotic once you have immersed yourself in its culture for long enough. No place. Remember that just because a country doesn’t own a proportionate number of cars or computers or whatever to the US doesn’t mean that we can’t learn from them. Remember that even in the US we don’t all have access to clean drinking water. There’s a certain political candidate who I would love to bring here to learn religious tolerance from Ugandans, but I won’t speak about that any further.
I have really come to believe, like many of my peers in developmental aid, that Uganda doesn’t need our help as Americans. (The same can be, and probably has been, said about many of the countries in Africa, but I can only speak personally to Uganda.) There is absolutely something to be said about the collaboration and learning opportunities that Americans bring to Uganda, but they don’t need us like a child needs its mother by any means. They’re not going to break into all out civil war without us. I truly believe that if no foreign aid remained in Uganda, they would do just fine. Maybe their “just fine” looks different from the American “just fine,” but again, different doesn’t mean bad; it just means different. I’m not one to judge whether Uganda is truly benefitting from Americans and other countries’ aid, Ugandans are, but I will be glad to stay as long as I am welcome. This is not just because I feel like I am doing good things here, but rather because I am learning so much. I am really beginning to understand what RPCVs mean when they say they learned more than they ever taught, were given more than they could have given. The same is true with teachers. My students are my teachers in so many ways, and my neighbors too. This country will leave me so different than when I came. Different for the better.
I have written previously about the harassment I receive whenever I leave my school, about how in this country I am exotic. I know that I will never entirely fit in due to the difference between my culture and this one, but seeing as I’m only one month shy of having spent an entire year in Uganda, I try my best to fit in every day. There has become a distinction between “American Bethany” and “Ugandan Bethany” in my mind. When, on many Saturdays, I don pants (called “trousers” here) and a t-shirt and head to town, I feel very American. I am choosing not to blend in as such. This is not to say that Ugandan women don’t wear trousers and t-shirts, but they tend to like to look “smart,” or well dressed, especially when they are in town.
In Kampala, this is especially true. I choose to do things like eat and walk at the same time even though I know it is a little rude because in Kampala I’m “just another muzungu.” (And because these things are more accepted since the culture of Kampala has become fairly westernized.) Sometimes it is nice to escape the pressure of fitting in with a culture that is not yours. Sometimes it is nice not to wear a skirt and to worry if it’s going to ride up while walking or to worry if something I’m doing is inadvertently rude. I find this distinction strange in my mind, though.
I have never been one to act differently in different spaces, at least as much as possible. Growing up in church, it is easy to have “Church Bethany” and “Home Bethany” and “School Bethany,” etc. I never bought that, though. I am simply “Bethany.” When you ask my friends, my church family, and my home family who I am, they will all probably tell you that I am loud, excitable, a loving mom to many, and so much more, but the point is that they will tell you many of the same things. Sure, I don’t talk as much when I’m with my extended family as I do when I’m with my friends, but that is because with my extended family, I am in the second to bottom generation in age. I respect my elders. (Plus they talk a lot about things I’m not necessarily as interested in like politics and people I don’t know.)
In Uganda, though, I constantly have the feeling that I am a different person because I am trying to fit in with the culture. I am trying not to be exotic. I am quieter both in conversation and in volume, more of an introvert, read a lot more, and I am not quite as excitable. “Ugandan Bethany” is very different from American Bethany except in one sense: I will always be a loving mom to many. I have gotten used to blending in, and it sometimes keeps me from expressing my true feelings, although not as often as one might thing. I have come to like Ugandan Bethany more over the time I’ve been here. I am realizing that I don’t have to be loud in order to be heard, that waiting to speak helps me not to say such rash things. Just because I am quiet doesn’t mean I am not listening or absorbing. I am so much more observant here. I have grown to appreciate the small things, especially those that aren’t so different between Ugandans and Americans.
Because, really, that’s it. Ugandans and Americans aren’t that different. Uganda is not some exotic country. Ugandans live a fairly similar life to Americans even without all the electronics and busyness. Yes, absolutely, this culture is different than ours, but different doesn’t mean wrong or bad or exotic. Different means different, perhaps unfamiliar. There is so much more we can learn from Ugandans than the media tells us. According to the media, Uganda is some helpless African country with poor, dying children. It’s true. But it’s also true of the US to some extent.
Uganda is even more “advanced” than the US in some areas. Take religious tolerance. Ugandans are so kind to everyone of any religion. They respect the Muslim minority so much that even Christian Ugandans know about Islam. It is very well understood that Muslims pray five times per day, and when a Muslim steps out to do so, no one bats and eyelash. Everyone knows when Muslim holidays are, and everyone takes off from school and work during those days. The same is true of men and women who wear traditional Muslim dress. Going to church, or “praying,” is such a pillar of Ugandan culture that they don’t care which church you go to. They only care about the fact that you go. Sure, they could learn from the US about tolerance of those without religion, but no place is perfect. (And people in the US who do not practice religion also have a difficult time.) This is just the one example I can come up with off the top of my head. I could discuss gardening, friendliness, trusting others, and so much more.
I honestly believe that I will see more differences between Uganda and America when I go back during Christmas. It’s like when you’re at the eye doctor and s/he asks you if 2 or 3 is clearer. You have to go back to 2 to realize that 3 is clearer. (Or you’re like me and really just can’t see any difference between 2 and 3.) But please be careful of how you speak about African countries and peoples, though. No place is exotic once you have immersed yourself in its culture for long enough. No place. Remember that just because a country doesn’t own a proportionate number of cars or computers or whatever to the US doesn’t mean that we can’t learn from them. Remember that even in the US we don’t all have access to clean drinking water. There’s a certain political candidate who I would love to bring here to learn religious tolerance from Ugandans, but I won’t speak about that any further.
I have really come to believe, like many of my peers in developmental aid, that Uganda doesn’t need our help as Americans. (The same can be, and probably has been, said about many of the countries in Africa, but I can only speak personally to Uganda.) There is absolutely something to be said about the collaboration and learning opportunities that Americans bring to Uganda, but they don’t need us like a child needs its mother by any means. They’re not going to break into all out civil war without us. I truly believe that if no foreign aid remained in Uganda, they would do just fine. Maybe their “just fine” looks different from the American “just fine,” but again, different doesn’t mean bad; it just means different. I’m not one to judge whether Uganda is truly benefitting from Americans and other countries’ aid, Ugandans are, but I will be glad to stay as long as I am welcome. This is not just because I feel like I am doing good things here, but rather because I am learning so much. I am really beginning to understand what RPCVs mean when they say they learned more than they ever taught, were given more than they could have given. The same is true with teachers. My students are my teachers in so many ways, and my neighbors too. This country will leave me so different than when I came. Different for the better.
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