The Nerve

Today, I'm going to rant.

I know - you're thinking, But you're normally so very sweet!

Well.  Hell hath no fury like a scornful woman.  Or something.

During the retreat in Bujumbura, I learned about the incidence of sexually transmitted points in school.  This refers to the increasing of a grade in exchange for sexual favours.  While I don't deny that this can and does happen elsewhere, I have experienced a singular shift in values here and I don't quite know how to put it into words. 

For example, when a medical director requests a personal profit from a project to be carried out in his hospital.

When a psychologist deplores this.

And then says he would do the same in that situation.

When a lawyer deplores corrupt officials.

And then says he'd accept a good bribe.

When a white-collar administrator believes in educational reform, prayer, and the power of each individual.

And then and is shocked at the suggestion of having less children in order to avoid the necessity of taking bribes, saying that God would understand.

None of these thoughts or behaviours is unique to this country or region, but I have never seen them so overtly displayed by people who are friendly, caring, and prayerful.

People, in general, have a tendency to have a mental map that includes them, their families, and their collective beliefs and actions.  Anything outside these bounds is considered offensive, shameful, or inappropriate.  When someone in that map commits a 'bad' act, we have a choice either to extend the borders of the map or cut that person out.  If that person is us or someone we love, it can cause terrible psychological stress to think that we/they are no longer 'acceptable' by our own standards.  Unsurprisingly, people tend to extend their maps instead.

In situations of war, There be dragons doesn't even begin to cover it.

Very few people or actions would be 'unacceptable' – being in possession of breath means that you should do anything to stay that way.  I'm interested to see how that plays out in a culture and a population.  So far, it has translated to a firm belief that the end justifies the means.  And the end is never long-term; it is immediate survival.  This means seeking positions of power, demanding and accepting bribes where possible, cultivating and calling on favours between people of your own tribe or race for solidarity, and gaining material resources from foreigners for the same reason.

If you are at all reasonable, you will understand that this does not apply to everyone.  However, the vast majority of people here follow the above plan simply because it means continued survival, and poverty teaches wonderful lessons on pragmatism.  To a certain extent, this results in a feeling of powerlessness in the face of the system, manipulation to prosper, and the devaluation of others – all of which is bizarre to place in the context of spirited people from large, loving families.

There is an idea that neither a single person's defiance nor integrity will make a difference in a system which is stacked against him.  There is the drive to reach a position of power and exploit others to maximize personal gain.  There is the seemingly casual incidence of assault, rape, and abandonment.  There is a disregard for the culture and languages of this country because the West is better.  There is disparagement of the women who, having been encouraged towards housework and caregiving since childhood, are only eager to receive dowries and begin their own as soon as possible.

In most of the people I meet, this translates to a desire to take what they can from foreigners – preferably two, and preferably yesterday.

One youth in my church is overjoyed to speak English with me (because he hates Swahili and French), and by the way, could he have earphones, guitar lessons, bus fare home, could he see my house, could I visit him, did he have girls' jeans on, and why did I seem like I didn't want to talk?

I had neither the energy nor the will to respond, but respond I did – on autopilot.  

I'm not an oracle.  I have a friend at home who could give you a roll of toilet paper, though, if you're interested.

At work this morning, one of my coworker's brothers asked for money for the celebration of his wedding anniversary, son's birthday, and wife's birthday that he'd thrown a few days ago.  I understood that it was half a joke, but sometimes I'd like to not half-joke back. Did I ask you to get married then?  To that woman?  Or have a baby?  Or throw a party?  And do I know you?  And will you pay for my wedding or children?

Another facet of this devaluation of people is the persistence of my stalker.  Young women have told me that in a normal workplace, advances from senior staff cannot be refused, much less classified as harassment.  My stalker has called more than a few times, spotted and offered me a ride to work this morning (though I hope to God he doesn't know where I live), and has continued calling since, though I have only answered a grand total of twice.

And to balance all this careful examination of others, you should remember that I'm not nearly as above reproach as I seem.  During a Bible study, our leader casually mentioned that I'd be too busy to attend a prayer the next day.  Having only mentally practiced my very regretful excuses, I was befuddled.

“Wait, did I already tell you I'd be busy?”
“No, you're always busy around that time,” he grinned and winked.

Rude.