Tag: Life in Tanzania Page 4 of 26

10 Myths About Africa Many Americans Believe

1.  Africa is a country.

Geography is a lost subject from where I come from, so let me just remind everyone that Africa is a continent.  A large continent, in fact, as you can see from the diagram below.

Source: Kal Krause, “The True Size of Africa”

Africa is also an incredibly diverse continent, made up of 54 countries. Those countries north of the Sahara tend to be more Arab, those south of the Sahara tend to be more “Bantu” (what you would traditionally picture as African), and those on the Horn (Ethiopia, Somalia, etc) tend to be a fascinating mixture.  But even then, I am being incredibly general, as there are thousands of African tribes and ethnicities that are as diverse as as a European would be from an Asian or South American.

I am going to debunk the following myths with what I have learned by living in Tanzania, since that is the country I am most familiar with.  However, keep in mind that I will be speaking broadly, and knowingly countering the stereotypes about Africa with more stereotypes (albeit, hopefully more accurate stereotypes).  In any culture or country, people live along a spectrum, and it’s important that we don’t ever lump an entire group (or continent) of people under any particular label.  My main goal is to use what I have learned in Tanzania to change the mental picture many Westerners have of Africa.



2.  Africans are all poor.

Yes, poverty is a huge problem in many African countries.  (Of the 25 poorest countries in the world, only 4 are not African.)  But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any middle-class or rich people.  Even though Tanzania is one of the poorest countries in the world, there are many rich people here.  Economic class distinctions are huge, and since the concept of equality is not valued the way it is in the West, rich people are usually treated better and with far more respect and privilege than poor people.



3.  Africa is not clean.

It’s true that public areas in Tanzania are often trash-filled and untended.  However, that says more about a lack of infrastructure than the character of your average Tanzanian.  Tanzanian homes, vehicles, and businesses tend to be very clean–much cleaner than what I have often seen in America.



4.   Africans do not have access to clothes or shoes.

Maybe that was true in the past.  Maybe it still is true in some war-torn countries.  But in Tanzania, it is absolutely not true.  Fabric is locally designed and printed and plentiful.  Hundreds of tons of cast-offs from American and European thrift stores are shipped over and sold in the local markets.  I buy most of our clothes here now.  There is no lack of clothing–and therefore, no need for you to send over your shoes or clothing.  If you are supporting an organization that needs clothes, send money instead and support the local economy.




5.  Africans dress in rags.

I have found that Tanzanians dress far more professionally and formally than those from my home state of “casual” California–and this is regardless of their economic status.  Women hardly ever wear shorts in public, and you rarely find a woman in the supermarket wearing the equivalent of yoga pants with unkempt hair.  Dry cleaners and salons are everywhere and people regularly have their clothes individually tailored.  Even those who work manual labor dress professionally for the bus ride and change into work clothes when they arrive at their job.  In social situations, I often feel under-dressed.



6.  Africans all live in villages.

Like most of the world, Tanzania is rapidly becoming urbanized.  We live in a fast-growing city of five million people, and it is predicted to reach 20 million in the next 30 years.

7.  Village life would be perfect if white people weren’t messing it up.

So I’m not going to get into the complicated mess of colonialism, but let’s just say that yes, I agree that white people have done a lot of messing up in Africa (to put it mildly).  But let’s not swing in the other direction and assume that village life was or is peaceful and idyllic.  Of course, beauty can be found anywhere, but female circumcision, child marriages, polygamy, alcoholism, albino murders, women who walk miles to find water, illiterate children, lack of basic health care and high infant and maternal death rates are not to be sugarcoated by some convoluted notion of the “noble savage.”

8.  All Africans are black.

If all Africans are black, then all Americans are Native American.  Colonialism happened on both continents.  However, European diseases managed to wipe out most Native American populations, and African diseases managed to wipe out most European settlers….and the rest is history.  South Africa probably has the most well-known white population, but I also have white African friends from Zimbabwe, Kenya, and Tanzania, whose families have lived here for generations.  There are also hundreds of thousands of Indian (Asian) families who have been East African citizens for over 100 years.

An Indian (Hindu) wedding ceremony in Tanzania.



9.  Poverty is Africa’s biggest problem.

Absolutely, poverty is a huge problem.  But I am convinced that worldview is a bigger problem, and specifically how that plays out in governmental corruption.  Which is why sending “aid” to Africa (in its many forms) is really just sticking band-aids on a cancerous tumor….and why the gospel offers real hope.

10.  Africa has been evangelized.

Northern Africa?  Definitely not.  Sub-Saharan Africa?  Partially.  There are still thousands of villages in Tanzania without a church.  There are still dozens of languages in Tanzania that don’t have a Bible translation.  However, it is true that Christianity has spread like wildfire throughout sub-Saharan Africa in recent decades.  Unfortunately, it’s often a version of the Prosperity Gospel.

Missions has most definitely changed in Africa in recent years.  Gone are the days of pith-helmet-clad white men tromping through the jungle to preach the gospel to remote villages.  In fact, there are far fewer white missionaries who are engaged in church planting and evangelism.  Instead, western missionaries are narrowing their focus to equipping and training Africans to do the job themselves.  I don’t have statistics, but I’m quite confident there are many more African missionaries in Africa than there are western missionaries.  And that’s how it should be.

Snakes Simply Don’t Belong in My Children’s Bed

Snake stories have always been the territory of the “real” African missionaries; you know, the ones who live in mud huts in the middle of nowhere.  City dwellers like us rarely see them, unless you are my friend Alyssa who found 16 in her house.

In all our years in Dar es Salaam, we’ve only had one snake in our house, and that was about 10 years ago in our dining room.  We’ve seen a few others in our yard, but that’s about it.

So yesterday, when Lily came out of her room to tell us there was a snake in her bed, we thought she was seeing things.  For one thing, she was quite calm (which is very un-Lily-ish….this is a child who has been known to scream bloody murder over a frog).  And she had been sent to take a nap (which she despises), so we thought this was a convenient diversion.  But she insisted it was a snake.  So Gil and my dad (who is visiting) went to investigate, and lo and behold, there was a green 3-foot snake hanging from the slats of the bunk bed.  Johnny was already sleeping on the top bunk, but we rapidly decided that his nap was now over.

Thankfully, the snake stayed put while my husband and my dad grabbed a box and various instruments of death.  My dad knocked it into the box and covered it, and we all trailed behind him as it was carried outside of our gate.  I was ready with the camera, but once the box was opened, it made a quick exit, and started slithering away into the bushes.  Gil hacked at it, cutting off about 8 inches of its tail, so we are assuming it has now perished.  Fitting punishment for having the audacity to get into my children’s bed.

We tried to play it cool the rest of the day so as not to alarm the children, though Lily dissolved into tears at bedtime and refused to get into bed.  I tried to reason with her, but considering that I’m not sure I would want to get into my bed if I had looked up and seen a snake, I couldn’t blame her.  She slept on our floor last night.

After the kids went to bed, we started Googling snakes, and great discussion ensued over whether the snake was greenish-yellow or greenish-blue and whether it was skinny or really skinny.  All of this is very important, because our visitor was either a harmless tree snake:

Or a green mamba, one of the most venomous and deadly snakes in East Africa.  

If missionary life were a video game, we would have just gone up a level.

Gratitude Makes All the Difference

It’s been one of those days.

It actually started yesterday, when my healthy young laptop suddenly decided to stop working.  Since I am heavily dependent on my computer, I knew that I would need to take it in immediately today to get fixed.

Unfortunately, there is only one computer store in the entire city of Dar es Salaam that will honor my HP warranty.  And even though it is less than 10 miles away, I dreaded the drive.  I knew it would take at least an hour each way, which wasn’t really how I planned to spend my Wednesday.

It was raining this morning.  That usually means torture for anyone who wants to drive to town, but I assured myself that we are only in the “short rains” rainy season and these days it only rains for fifteen minutes at a time.  About a hour after I left the house, I knew I was in trouble.  This wasn’t just rain, this was African Rain.  The voice from Google Maps politely told me, You will reach your destination in one minute.  Uh, I don’t think so, I said back to her (not so politely).  Your satellite up there doesn’t see that the road in front of me is actually now a river.  

So I turned around and went up and down and back again and got to my destination a different way.  I trudged through the rain, up the stairs to the computer shop…..only to see a note on the door telling me they had moved….to another location deep downtown.

Two hours after I left my house, I finally reached my destination.  It was in a new mall I hadn’t visited before.  Because of the rain, the power was off, and I asked three people for directions before I finally found the shop in a very dark, back corner.

I then sat. Without power, they couldn’t register my computer or look up the warranty.  A half hour later, the power finally came on.  Not looking forward to making this journey again, I hopefully asked the receptionist, Can’t I just wait for the technician to just…fix it right now?   She stared at me unblinking.  No, we’ll have to order the part from the Netherlands. It will take two or three weeks.   

Yeah, that’s what I figured.  Sigh.

So I trudged down the stairs and back to my car to begin the arduous trip back home.  I fretted about the few (thankfully not many) documents that were now lost in cyber space and would have to be re-created.  I inwardly whined about the inconvenience of the rain and the traffic and computer shop moving locations.

I was tempted to justify throwing myself a nice big pity party.  But being the day before Thanksgiving, I would have felt guilty.  You know, like being grumpy on Christmas.

So on the long drive home, I looked for ways to be thankful.  It really wasn’t hard.  I’m thankful that I’m in this car, instead of in that wheelchair, begging for money in the rain.  Or trying to sell soggy boxes of Kleenex to people driving by.  I’m thankful that I own a computer, for the warranty, and that I can use Gil’s until I get it back.  That I can come home to a house that doesn’t leak, and I have no fear of it flooding….unlike thousands of others in this city.

Then I came home, opened Gil’s computer, and discovered a message from our lawyer saying that the judge has finally released the paperwork necessary to apply for Johnny’s passport.

In the end, it really was one of those days.  You know, the kind I’m really thankful for.

Since Thursday is a normal working day here, we celebrated Thanksgiving on Sunday with our Reach Global family.  And the best part?  The Edwards family finally made it to Tanzania just two days before–and 100% financially supported.  Thanks, American Church!  

When You Want a Different Life


I live in a tropical paradise.  The glorious Indian Ocean is my backdrop—I can see it between the trees at my house, when I run errands around town, and when I watch my daughter’s soccer games.  For fun we take a little boat to an uninhabited island and snorkel over colorful coral.  The weather is always warm; even in “winter” it rarely goes below 70 degrees at night.  We can drive just a few hours to see all the famous animals of Africa.  I am surrounded by people who are friendly and generous, eager to help and appreciative of any attempt to speak in Swahili.  I can walk down the road to produce stands heaped with fresh pineapples, avocados, mangos, bananas.  I live in a 3 bedroom house with a yard big enough for a soccer field for less than what we paid for our tiny, one-bedroom apartment in California.  I have a house helper who comes four mornings a week and does my cleaning and laundry.

My children attend a top-quality school, an incredible place that is the best of many worlds.  Their teachers are kind and wise Christians, and their classmates come from a wide range of nationalities and religions.  Their curriculum includes art, music, computers, Swahili, and swimming.  My husband and I work in pastoral training and have the privilege of seeing lightbulbs go off for church leaders as they grasp God’s sovereignty or grace for the first time.  We get to do something significant for eternity, and we get to have fun while we do it.

Sound great?  Envious?  Wish you had my life?

It’s all true.

But things are not always what they seem…..  

Click hereto read the rest of this post over at A Life Overseas.

Please Go See “Queen of Katwe”

Yes, it’s a classic underdog story that’s been done maybe too many times.  Yes, the ending is predictable and makes you feel all gooey inside.  But the setting–a slum in Uganda–is not anything I’ve seen before on screen.  The actors are all African or of African decent.  And the main character–Phiona–is phenomenally played by an ordinary Ugandan girl who grew up very similarly to Phiona herself–selling corn on the street.  In fact, I readtoday that “The second time Madina Nalwanga saw a film inside a theater, she was the star of it.”

Sure, this may be a Stand-Up-and-Cheer movie, but it also doesn’t sugarcoat.

As I watched “The Queen of Katwe” this afternoon, I kept thinking–Yes, this is what many parts of Africa really look like.  I’ve been in markets just like that.  Yes, many really do live in shacks like Phiona’s family.  Yes, many young girls feel their only way out of that life is by selling themselves to men.  Yes, flooding in the slums really is that bad.  Yes, hospitals often operate without anesthetic.  Yes, there really is that kind of income disparity in Africa.  Yes.  Yes.  People need to see this.  



I try to explain East Africa to you with my words and my pictures.  This movie does it so much better.  Please, go see this movie.  We took all our kids.  It was a little intense; the girls cried.  I cried.  There’s a few things in this movie that some parents might not want their young children to see, so please check sources like this onebefore deciding if your kids can handle it.  We are pretty protective with our kids when it comes to movies.  But you know what?  I’m not going to protect them from the devastation of what poverty looks like.  That’s something they need to see.  So do I.

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