On Being a Muzungu

Ever since my first international experience, I have always felt that everyone should know what it is like being a true foreigner. There is something about being in a place where you are the one who does not understand, where you do not get what is happening, where you look differently than everyone else, and where the probability of doing something foolish, embarrassing, frustrating, or inappropriate is fairly high simply because you are out of the cultural loop.

Now, even when you are a foreigner, there are at least places in the world where, as a white American, you can try to at least go unnoticed, if only for a moment at a time. However, in Africa this is not possible whatsoever. Everywhere you are you immediately pop out as a complete and total stranger. This is combined with the fact that, in Rwanda, staring and calling attention to people who are different is socially acceptable. This can be disconcerting, especially to anyone who is uncomfortable with excessive amounts of attention.

There is a word throughout Africa used to label white people - muzungu. This literally translates to "white person." Africans are generally not afraid to use this word often and out loud. However, for many Africans, muzungu is much more than its literal meaning. It also carries deep perceptions of white westerners as people who are endlessly rich and priviledged. This can be a difficult perception to deal with, especially as you are surrounded on the street by children in rags, calling out "Muzungu!" and doing what they have been trained to do with all white foreigners - demand your money.

The muzungu perception calls attention to what is a stark reality in much of Africa - poverty. This weekend the team traveled to the western edge of Rwanda to spend the weekend at Lake Kivu. This involved a three hour drive through the "bush" of Rwanda, which is at the same time both strikingly beautiful with its rolling hills and mountains, and disconcerting with its endless streams of people eeking out an existence with substinence agriculture. There is a ditch being dug for dozens of miles along the main road we took, all being done with old hand tools by hundreds and hundreds of workers making exactly 500 Rwandan Francs a day. One American dollar equals 560 Rwandan Francs. And the ditch project is actually very good, as it allows for many to have at least some kind of income. This includes some mothers swinging old pick axes with babies strapped to their backs.

So you start to wonder if the muzungu concept might be true. Just how priviledged are we and how much do we take this for granted? How much do we expect our own wealth and comfort, and lament in the sporadic times that our oppulent lifestyle is not living up to our expectations? I have no naive assumptions that we hold a magic key to the end of poverty or that our lifestyles make us guilty of the state of poverty in places like Africa. But if being a true muzungu for a few weeks can do anything, it can provide you with intense perspective on your own life that teaches you how to "give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Thess. 5:18).