Culture Shock, Abundance, and Choices

Now that we have been back in the States for a couple of weeks, I want to share some of my reactions and feelings.

The culture shock started as early as in the airport in Dar es Salaam, when I saw the KLM flight crew stride through the waiting passengers to the plane.  They were so tall, and so blonde!  It continued at our layover in Amsterdam, as we strolled past the many shops and restaurants.  Western toilets!  Cheese!  Chocolate!  Starbucks!

Once home, literally in the arms of our family, I was simply grateful for a while--grateful for their love and support and grateful that our young grandchildren remembered us.  And, as days went by, I appreciated the comforts this country has to offer:  clean water from a tap, hot water on demand, good roads, reliable electricity, refrigerators, a variety of foods and flavors, and people who wait politely in lines for service, instead of pushing ahead of others when they can.

But, I find other aspects of life here disturbing.  The quantity of skin exposed to view is startling.  In small-town Tanzania, people do not routinely expose shoulders, bosoms, or legs above the knee. The rate of obesity in the U.S., even among children, is truly horrifying.  Certainly there are fat people in Tanzania, but for the most part they are only the few who are wealthy enough to eat Western high-fat, high-protein diets, own cars, and hire enough household help so that they get little exercise. 

The abundance in this country is overwhelming.  So many choices:  scores of different types of bread, meats, seafood, cereals, and even pickles!  I wandered into a big-box bookstore a few days ago, and was struck dumb by the thousands of books, particularly the children's books.  So many products that it is difficult to make a purchasing decision.  And, I find that we are more frugal than before we left.  Prices seem high, whether or not they are in fact higher than they were two years ago. 

So far, we have made some purchases, large and small.  Groceries.  Phones.  A car.  Now, we are looking for a house to buy, having sold ours before joining the Peace Corps. Will the Peace Corps experience affect that purchase, or will we fall back into old habits and expectations?  At minimum, we now know the difference between "needs" and "wants", and can prioritize them.  Need:  a functional kitchen.  Want:  granite countertops.  Priority:  depends on whether you ask Carol or Mark.

A Visit to a Maasai Boma

A new teacher at our school grew up in a village 10 km up the mountain from our town.  He invited us to visit the area, and we happily accepted.  We had been to a couple of these villages before, but never with a personal guide. 

It's a beautiful area, but many of the people living in these villages are very poor. Not our friend's family.  He borrowed his father's car(!), to take us up the mountain. To give you an idea of how rare that is, only 2 of the 30+ teachers at our school own a car--the headmistress and the assistant headmaster.

We left our town, heading west, and soon the pavement ended and we were on a dirt road.  The surface has had some recent work, but it is still rutted, narrow, steep, and, in places, winding.  The first village is the best known, as it hosts a Saturday market day, where one can buy produce, Maasai shukas (robes), jewelry, and freshly grilled goat.

We first stopped by to greet his father, whose home is several kilometers further on.  His house is a new one, not big by American standards, but sturdily made with cement blocks, and with fresh paint and a metal roof.  I noticed a satellite dish in the back yard.  Prosperous indeed!  We did not ask how he acquired such wealth--that would have been rude.  We learned, though, that he has even more than satellite TV, when our friend pointed out the separate houses of 2 of his father's 3 wives.  Our guide is the second child of the first wife.  I asked how many brothers and sisters he has, and he said, "Many.....many."  Polygamy is discouraged here, but it is legal and (obviously) still exists.  The Christian churches do their best to urge their members to have only one partner, but people get around that by marrying as they choose first, and then joining the church.

After a brief visit with his dad, we proceeded further up the mountain to his mom's place.  She loves living nearly on top of the mountains, and prefers it to living on the lower property with her husband and co-wives.  On our way there, we stopped at a spot where the family is developing a cultural-tourism campground.  The location is spectacular, on a plateau overlooking the Great Rift Valley.  We could see for miles, to the escarpment on the other side.  Our friend pointed out a giraffe down below, and we heard baboons calling not far away.  When tourists visit, they will be treated to authentic Maasai songs and dancing, provided by the local villagers.                

The next stop we made was at a sacred tree.  Some people here still practice traditional religion, rather than Christianity or Islam.  Our friend told us that the belief developed that God is at the location of an old, twisted tree.  People come there tree to pray and leave offerings of rocks, which are placed on the branches and stacked next to the base of the tree.

Finally, we went to the family boma.  "Boma" means enclosure, or corral, and they are created by stacking thorny branches (which can be found in abundance here) around the property 6 or so feet high.  At night, the cows and goats are herded inside and into an inner corral to keep them safe from predators.  The family's living quarters are within the enclosure as well.  We pulled in, and first met our friend's older brother and his uncle.  His brother went to high school, and then was inspired to become a pastor.  Our friend is the only one in his family who went to college.

We found his mother, a woman of about 40, preparing food in front of one of the traditional Maasai huts in the boma.  These are circular buildings with walls built up of dung and mud between supporting branches, and with thatched roofs.  She doesn't speak English, but she was happy to see us, and we exchanged some words in Swahili.  As we were leaving, our friend showed us his mother's "modern" house, built for her by her husband.   It's rectangular, made of wooden planks, and has windows and a metal roof.  A peek inside showed us a dirt floor, 3 rooms, and an electric bulb hanging from the ceiling.  I exclaimed about that, and our friend told us that it is solar powered, and that he wired the lighting for his mother himself.  She must be very proud of him.