Friday, August 7, 2009

Ubuntu

Rwanda is a collision of tradition and modernism. Very much a place from years past, yet very influenced by the modern world. Walking on the road, you are almost as likely to see a suit as you are to see traditional patterned clothing. The United States was founded upon a breaking from tradition. People immigrated to the new world to break from their old lives and begin something new. When we declared ourselves a nation, it wasn't a reformation and upheaval of the current government (like so many countries around the world, and especially in Africa), it was a separation. Hence, we don't have much tradition, and we certainly don't value it like other cultures do. Here, tradition and new life collide, and the results are strange and beautiful.


I would expect, because the cell phone came about much later than the automobile, that at the very least, there would be more cell phones than cars, or at least as many. This is certainly true in Baja. My experience of the third world is limited mostly to Mexico, and it has been remarkable how many similarities I find between Rwanda and Baja. The same dusty towns. The same single paved highway through town, with dirt roads branching off in either direction. The same colorful storefronts selling homemade goods. But very few cars. Most of the taxis are motorcycles, and everyone walks everywhere. Of course cell phones (and motorcycles, for that matter) are cheaper than cars, so it makes sense. Yet, the technology leap intrigues me. In Mexico, they leaped over the land-line phone era, straight to the internet era. Here, they seem to have leaped over the last 200 or 300 years.


Every time I hear a cell phone go off, it surprises me. The responsible party will react exactly as you'd expect. First, they have a reflex response that sends their entire body into convulsions in search of the device. Then, when the culprit is found, they look around sheepishly, hold up one hand (apparently universal for "Sorry, it was me." Yeah. We know.), raise the phone to their ear, and half shuffle, half sprint out of the room, whispering until they think they're out of earshot, only to begin talking loudly and frantically, still easily within range of being heard. After my initial surprise, I am invariably catapulted towards a nearly unbearable need to laugh, because the ringtone is invariably comical. I've heard american pop songs several times, although I'm not familiar enough with the current pop scene to be able to identify the artist. "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" - hey, it is winter here, I guess they're entitled. Salome's ring is baby laughter. Cute. By contrast, I heard another ringtone which I swear was laughter from the Chucky movies. Creepy. The nokia ring tone is very common. My favorite, however, was "Auld Lang Syne". I'm not sure it's even within the realm of possibility that this person knew what song it was. I'm sure they just liked the tune. If - as inconcievable as it is - if they did happen to know it, there's really no possibility that they would know the lyrics, because no one knows the lyrics. Not even people who speak the language.


The number of cell phones suggests something else. Their enjoyment of, and desire to be close to one another. In Baja (and in Latin cultures in general, I gather), people are communal, but concerned mostly with family, and not reaching too far beyond. Here, there is community on a different level. People are so familiar and affectionate. Even when I know I'm witnessing a first-time meeting between two Africans, I wouldn't be able to tell if they were really meeting for the first time, or if they were, in fact, long lost friends. Probably because of how we began, and because of the highly capitalistic society we enjoy, we Americans are highly individualistic. Part of the depth of tradition in Rwanda (and in Africa in general), is the centrality of community. In Rwanda, they call it ubuntu.


Ubuntu even affects their theology. They have a deeper understanding of the trinity, because they have a deeper understanding of relationship, and they use the trinity as a model for reforming their communities in areas that are in need of reformation. They also have a great understanding of the Christian faith as a relationship. In America, we would probably think that "Are you saved?" and "Do you have a relationship with Jesus Christ?" are, on some level, different questions. Because of our individualism, we have a highly religious faith, whereby we believe that if you practice the right things, go to church regularly, and conform to the right rituals, you will be saved. Salvation itself is not a relationship to us, although someone who is saved will probably acknowledge that a relationship with Christ is in progress. Here, their understanding of the concept of salvation is completely different. If you were to ask someone here "Are you saved?" they might very well answer "I have a relationship with Jesus Christ." There is not even the slightest contextual shift to them, because their life is based around community, and community is based around relationships. Ed has to use a different filter for his words when trying to teach. They respond to experience and stories much better than they respond to explanations and systems. They feel a much stronger connection with the apostle John than they do with the apostle Paul. This is not to say that they do not think logically. After all, most of what Ed is bringing before them is from Pauline epistles, and they are responding very very well. The difference is that the responses are brought out of practical examples and stories from Ed's own experience. We tend to frame our experiences in light of our philosophy. Here, their philosophy derives from their experience. From their relationships. From ubuntu. The more I'm surrounded by it, the more I think that this is how it should be. Why else would we call ourselves a family and a body? We have a lot to learn.

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