Norms in Swazi culture are much different than norms in American culture, big surprise, right?
In America it is not normal to eat, shower, and sleep with chickens and cows wandering around amongst your home. In Swazi, it is.
In America it is not normal to slow the car down every 100 feet or so because said cows, goats, pigs, etc…have decided to cross the road. In Swazi, it is.
In America it is not normal to pile at least 10 people in a 5-person taxi. In Swazi, it is.
In America it is not normal to wait hours for the bus that was supposed to be “just on it’s way�. In Swazi, it is. (Remind me to write further on the way my patience has improved!)
There are obvious differences in our two cultures, and most of them we found to be rather humorous and the strange things are even starting to feel normal to us. That is a whole other blog in itself, the strange things on the World Race that have become normal. ☺
There are a few differences though that I could not just find humorous and keep walking. Some are in such stark contrast to American culture that they profoundly affected me.
One of those things happened last Thursday morning at the Mbutu Care Point. Among the four Care points that we visited, this one probably represented the population with the most poverty. Morgan and I stopped to gather some information about what it was costing to fund the care point each month, how much food they needed per day, how many children they served each day, etc…
When we pulled up there was a great crowd of people on the street corner with wheelbarrows. It seemed like the entire neighborhood had turned out for some event or another. Little did we know that the event was for handing out food. It was truly as if time stopped and I just slowly turned in a circle taking in the scene. We were two rich, white, American women in a sea of African men and women simply trying to feed their families. These people didn’t know where their next meal was coming from, or how to provide for their families and what could I possibly say or do to identify with that?
I detached myself from the situation enough to transport my mind to my days at the Meijer grocery. I can’t even count the number of times I complained about one: having to go to the grocery store, and two: having to carry my groceries up two flights of stairs. I mean, I really complained about these things. I wasted time and breath to whine that it was too hot, or too rainy, or I was too tired, or whatever to freely walk in that store, pick out whatever I wanted and pay for it, and then take it to my very own house.
Honestly, I was disgusted with myself. My heart definitely broke for the Swazi women carrying children on their back, food on their heads, and pushing a wheelbarrow. But my heart really broke for myself. It broke that I live in a world that revolves around me, it broke that I fail to realize how blessed I am. It broke that God had to take me all the way to Swaziland to show me just how far off base I am.
If I am truly honest, my heart continues to break because I am still selfish, I am still complaining about little things, I am still thinking about how things will affect me instead of others. I still whine when I am hot, tired, cold, bored, etc…I thought that getting on a plane and becoming a real, live missionary would automatically mold me into this perfect, smiling, happy missionary. What was I thinking??
I thought I would check complacency, bad attitude, laziness, whining and all other bad attributes of my personality at the plane gate and they wouldn’t follow we around the world. Boy, was I wrong. They are still here.
