I've been lost...

As my African friends would say after my extended absence from the blogging world, "you've been so lost!" But here I am, attempting to start it up again. The irony of everydayafrica is that most days in Africa I don't have electricity or computer access, so there really won't be a daily entry. But hey, I'll do what I can.

How about kicking it off with my critical insight experience. Yippee.

This is not my first experience with Africa. Looking back, it is interesting to see how my reactions to western influence and globalization have changed with education. Examine the contrast between three specific incidents during each respective visit to this continent.

The first time I visited Johannesburg in 1999, I was thrilled to eat Heinz ketchup and relax with the familiar taste of a grilled chicken sandwich and fries at Wimpy’s. I didn’t think twice about the western influence that provided the delicacies of home, I just licked my lips and enjoyed.

In 2004 I spent a year living in Kenya, and after some education about the atrocities of colonialism, I didn’t feel the same satisfaction when I saw Nakumatt, a store very closely resembling Wal-Mart with all the groceries, appliances, books, clothing, and western or local products one could want. Yes, I still purchased my groceries and so-called necessities there, but my consumerism was laced with guilt and cynicism of what the west had done to Africa. What happened to subsistence farming and the local marketplace? I began advocating Africanization without even understanding what it meant and what the repercussions might be. I had seen poverty and hardship and blamed it solely upon the consequences of colonialism.

I began reading the Primal Vision this summer and have not been able to have clearly classifiable, black and white reactions ever since. I see western influences every day in Uganda, and am now not entirely sure how to react! Rather than having the immediate rush of comfort and satisfaction or the deep feeling of resentment and cynicism, I am left with only questions, searching for conclusions and answers in an indeterminable gray haze.

Our discussion in class on September 22 finally crystallized a now seemingly obvious revelation. Just like the early missionaries and colonialists whom I resent and almost hate for their naïve and arrogant attitude toward westernizing Africa, I run the risk of making the same mistake in encouraging Africans to fully Africanize their countries. My new understanding has not been to deem it wrong to Africanize, but rather I have realized my mistake in wanting to force Africans to do anything at all. Living in a slum for a few months and studying at a university in Uganda does not make me an expert. I have entered with a heart and passion for Africa, but I realize that my passions, at least at this early stage, have been misguided into wanting to jump right in and change her rather than learn from her, both spiritually and academically. I wouldn’t dare consider myself racist, but I must confess that, as John V. Taylor expresses in The Primal Vision, I have “preached the Gospel from the point of view of the wealthy man who casts a mite in to the lap of the beggar rather than from the point of view of the husbandman who casts his seed into the earth knowing that his own life and the lives of all connected with him depend upon the crop which will result from his labour” (Taylor 1963, 14).

Perhaps as I abandon the busy scurry of my “Martha” role, trying to rouse Africa to action and self-determination, I will be able to spend time next to “Mary” at the feet of the Master, drinking in His words. Then I will learn not only about the Mary seated next to me but also the Lord who created her (Taylor 1963, 15). Whatever I do, I must not judge. Maybe someday in the future God will reveal to me actions that must be taken or changes that should be made, but I must not never believe I have finished learning. At this point, God wants me to sit back and ask questions. As one of our fellow classmates so beautifully stated, “Our quest to live in the answers rather than embracing the questions leads us to draw hasty, comfortable conclusions and live in them.” Now is not a time for cynicism or judgment. It is not a time to rationalize or excuse. It is not a time for resignation or complacency, and it’s definitely not time to assuredly state what Africa must do to improve. I have done enough of all that. It is now time to actually learn from the people I am trying to help, and realize that it is most likely me who has much to learn from them.