Tag: Life in Tanzania Page 21 of 26

Living With (But Not In) Poverty

On September 18, 2008

What would it be like if your next door neighbor lived in a tin shack with no running water or electricity, and rarely had enough food to go around?

This is my tension.

Dar es Salaam is a city of 4 million people. It is growing economically in leaps and bounds. The fancy hotels are overflowing with visitors here on business. New banks seem to be opening every week, with lines that go out the door. Our school, HOPAC, which costs $4000 per year for tuition, is bursting at the seams with a waiting list a mile long. The only other high quality international school in the city, IST, which costs more than $12,000 per year, is also bursting at the seams. There are many wealthy people in this city.

However, the vast majority are not. Thankfully, we don’t see starving people in Dar es Salaam the way we did when I lived in Ethiopia as a teenager. There are people starving in Tanzania, and I’m sure even in the city, but it’s not the norm. But that doesn’t mean that the majority are very far above it.

Earlier this week, my house worker, Esta, asked me for an advance on her monthly pay. I asked her what she needed it for and she said that her husband still hasn’t found work and they are out of food. Since she had received her salary less than two weeks ago, the fact that she is asking for an advance for food is not a good thing.

I gave her the advance, and some food, but inside I felt sick. Esta has worked for us for two years and is such a dear woman. She is about my age, been married for two years, and has a baby girl who she brings to work with her. She is a believer and is full of joy. But her life is hard. She and her husband rent two small rooms. Not a two bedroom house—two rooms. One for sitting and one for sleeping. She cooks outside and uses an outhouse. They have electricity but rarely use it. They do not have running water. Esta’s husband has been out of work now for over a year. There is a 40% unemployment rate in this city.

We pay Esta about $80 per month, and this is her only job. In addition, we pay for almost all of their rent and cover all of the medical expenses for her and her baby. If she is still working for us when her daughter goes to school, we will help with school fees too. We pay over the going rate. Yet….we’re talking only $80 a month to live on, folks.

Then there’s our life. We live in a four bedroom house that is (sort of) similar to an American house, though rent is about 4 times cheaper here. We have all the amenities, except for a dryer or dish washer, but I have Esta. We own one ten-year-old car. My pantry is always full of food.

We are not living extravagantly by American standards. When we moved here, we carefully thought through our standard of living. We have been purposeful about the location and size of our house—we chose all the details for very specific ministry-related reasons. We live at or below the standard of living compared to the other HOPAC families. In fact, most of the Tanzanian kids at HOPAC live far above us.

Yet I live with constant tension between our lifestyle and that of so many of the people around us—even those about 100 yards from our house. The truth is, even if we lived at a lower standard, as some of the missionaries in the villages do, we would still have more than most Tanzanians. We never have to worry about having enough to eat. We never have to worry about money for a sick child. We are allowed plane trips to the States every couple of years. Our children are guaranteed an excellent education and all the opportunity they will ever desire.

When Gil and I go out to dinner, I think about how that one dinner was a week’s wage for many people in the city. If we go to a hotel for our anniversary for a night, we could easily spend a month’s wage of an average Tanzanian. I think about it when I buy dog food. Or Pringles. Or books. Or anything that goes beyond basic living expenses.

Sometimes I just want to run away from it all. It’s just too hard. When Esta asked me for the advance for food, I just wanted to leave Tanzania and go back to America. I often just want to pretend that poverty isn’t really there. Of course, living in the States doesn’t make poverty go away. But in America, surrounded by people who live in luxury, it’s easier to live in denial.

Of course, not everyone is rich in America. But even the poorest have electricity, running water (that won’t make you sick if you drink it), shoes, free education for their children, food stamps, presents at Christmas, a TV, and often even a car and a computer. More importantly, people in America have opportunity to get ahead. Most of the rest of the world does not.

But there are no easy answers. How do we remain generous while staying within economic and cultural norms in Africa? What is the balance between generosity and fostering unhealthy dependence? How many “creature comforts” of western life can still glorify God? How do we really distinguish between “needs” and “wants” (which are very much defined by our culture)? Why do my kids get to experience Disneyland, bubble baths, dress-up clothes, swimming pools, and university, and the kids around the corner do not? Why has God allowed us to have so much and so many to have so little? And what is our responsibility in the midst of that?

Think on poverty, my friends. Though I want to run away from it, God never desires us to put our heads in the sand. When not confronted with it head-on, it’s easy to pretend it doesn’t exist. In the end, I’m thankful I live with this tension. Heaven forbid I start pretending that this life really is heaven, and that I “deserve” comfort—as I am often so tempted.

When my struggle ceases, I will be either in sin, or in Heaven.

Cultural Progress???

By Amy Medina

On May 4, 2008

In Other

Yesterday (Saturday) I needed to go grocery shopping. Gil said he would watch Grace, so I took off on my own.

There is one two-lane road that leads into town (we are sort of in the suburbs). One two-lane road for a city of 4 million people. As you can imagine, there are times when it gets quite congested. Well, yesterday morning, “congested” was an understatement. After 45 minutes, I had only gotten a mile from home. Now, that kind of traffic is bad enough, but you know when you are stuck in traffic on the freeway in California, and there’s always some renegade who drives on the shoulder? You mutter curses under your breath and pray that an officer catches him. Well, imagine you are stuck in traffic, but dozens and dozens of people are driving on the shoulder. Not only that, but as soon as there’s a break in on-coming traffic, they drive straight down that lane as well. Sometimes they even drive on the shoulder on the other side of the road. (See post below). For those of us who continue to wait patiently in our own lane, you can imagine that this is quite frustrating.

So, frustrated, irritated, and still very determined to get to the store, I turned around, drove back past our house and took off down what is affectionately called “The Back Way.” The Back Way is an all-dirt, very bumpy road. But given that this is rainy season, it’s actually a mud road. And the bumps turn into enormous lakes. And given the fact that we do not have a 4-wheel-drive car, going down this road was not the smartest thing I have ever done.

All I can say is that I am very, very thankful that our car did not stall in the middle of one these lakes of mud. Some of them were 3 or 4 feet deep. The worst point came when I was driving through one of these “puddles” and the mud came up over the hood of the car and onto my windshield. You could say that got my adrenalin going.

Like I said, not the smartest thing I have ever done. But I was determined. And indeed, there was much less traffic on The Back Way.

An hour and a half after I left home, I finally did make the 10 miles to my destination. The grocery store I was headed towards is at Dar es Salaam’s very own mall. Yep, we finally have a mall. And it does indeed look like a mall (albeit a very small one) by American standards. It has about 30 stores and is fully enclosed and air-conditioned. But the stores are not quite what you would expect at a mall: a grocery store, a pharmacy, a dry cleaners, 5 banks, and a photocopy store are some of the more unusual merchants. Much to our delight, there is also a movie theater with three screens. (It’s getting “Juno” this week—sounds like a date night!).

Yesterday, however, before I went grocery shopping, I headed to the newest store, the one all our students were talking about last week, called “Mr. Price.” Upon entering, though, I went through somewhat of a culture shock.

Half of the store looks exactly a smaller version of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. The other half looks like the clothes section of Target. It is a beautiful store. I was in shock. After driving through the mud lake and fighting the mayhem outside, to suddenly be transported back to America sent my senses into overload. I walked around in much of a daze—kind of like how I felt a year ago when the mall first opened.

But perhaps what was most disturbing to me about Mr. Price was the prices. They were actually quite reasonable. Why would I be disturbed about that? Well, because there are a few other stores in the mall which sell imported clothes and housewares, but they are so absurdly priced that I don’t even give them the time of day. But the prices in this store were affordable—kind of like Target prices.

And at least half of the customers were Tanzanian. That’s what disturbed me. There is a growing middle class in Tanzania—which is a good thing! But just because there are people in Tanzania who are moving out of poverty, does that mean their houses have to look American? Does that mean their clothes have to look American? The decorating styles in Mr. Price were most definitely western (it’s a South African chain). The majority of the clothes do not meet African modesty standards (which considers the legs as the most important part to cover up). Yet this Tanzanian middle class can now afford these things.

And that makes me sad. Even for myself—yes, I was attracted to the things in that store. But I don’t want my house to look American. No, it doesn’t look totally Tanzanian either. But my goal isn’t to re-create the kind of life I would have had in the States. Part of the reason I love living in Africa is because I get to escape the materialism of the west. I have always liked finding local products to substitute for things I need.

But the west is coming to Africa. And with each store, a little bit of the African culture dies. I do most earnestly hope and pray that the roads will improve! But I wish there was a way to allow progress to happen to Africa while still remaining distinctly African.

Driving, a.k.a. Taking Your Life Into Your Hands

By Amy Medina

On April 30, 2008

In Other

Yesterday we were talking with some friends about a student who is trying to get her Tanzanian driver’s license. Since the student is American, we were discussing how learning how to drive in Dar is vastly different than learning to drive in the U.S. Learning to drive here has been like gaining an entirely new skill! Here are some of the “unwritten” driving rules we have discovered during our five years here:

1. Tanzania is a former British colony, so drive on the left side of the road. (That is, unless it’s more convenient to drive on the right.)

2. The bigger car gets the right-of-way

3. If you have a red license plate (government), then you have the right-of-way

4. If you have a blue license plate (United Nations), then you have the right-of-way.

5. If traffic stops in your lane, feel free to drive on the shoulder. Or the shoulder of the other side of the road. Or into on-coming traffic. Whichever gets you where you need to go the fastest. Pay no attention to the fact you are actually making traffic worse.

6. Getting pulled over often depends on the color of your skin, not on breaking a traffic rule.

7. When you come to a traffic light, stop only if you feel like it. Ignore the traffic light if there is a police officer in the intersection directing traffic, because he always trumps the light.

8. If the traffic light isn’t working, and there’s no police officer, close your eyes and drive through.

9. If you hit 40 mph…whew! It’s exhilarating.

10. Drive offensively, not defensively, or you won’t ever get anywhere.

11. At night, always drive with your brights on, unless you feel like being considerate.

12. Always drive with the assumption that at any moment, any one of the cars in front or the sides of you could spontaneously pull into your lane. Assume that they will.