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Lessons Learned in Zambia: Dispelling Myths about Multiculturalism (as embodied by Princeton's "International Day") Ted Gudmundsen I work with the wealthiest of the wealthy in Zambia. My coworkers have big houses, shop at ShopRite, and wear the latest styles. A few months ago, my boss cancelled her important business trip because she hadn’t yet been given money for her hotel room and travel expenses from the group we work for. I asked her why she didn’t just spend her own money and get reimbursed when she returned. She looked at me derisively, “maybe YOU’VE got that kind of money lying around.” I do have that kind of money, maybe $20, lying around. This is not because I’m rich. My annual expenditures are undoubtedly less than my boss’s annual expenditures. But despite the fact that my boss probably makes $20 per day, she doesn’t have a kwacha in the bank. This is culture: Very few Zambians save. So how do Zambians get by in tough times? In lieu of savings, there is an almost communistic sense of sharing. I live with a wealthy Zambian family, the Siwales. On any given night, the Siwale’s two sons, one nephew, three to five nieces, a couple of in-laws, a servant, and a few friends will all be sleeping at the Siwale’s house. Those twelve people will fit into three bedrooms. Many of these family members have been there for months, never paying a kwacha. This is typically Zambian. The Siwales never kick them out or give them a hard time about “getting a job.” This is not amazing politeness; it’s a difference in mentality. The Siwales would never think that friends and family shouldn’t share their wealth because they hadn’t “earned” it. This is culture: most Zambians are incredibly generous. A wealthy Zambian friend of mine was given a business plan for a car wash that offered phenomenal profits. Within three months, the initial investment would be repaid, and after that he’d be making thousands of dollars a year. He passed on the offer. “I can’t be there myself,” he said, “and if I’m not the employees will rob me blind.” He’s not paranoid. I play soccer with a fellow who owns a restaurant here in Zambia. I usually play with him on Saturday mornings, but once I tried to get him to come out to a game on a Wednesday night. “Oh no, I can’t,” he said, “I have to be at the restaurant.” I suggested he just let the manager run the place for the night. He laughed. “I’ll be out of business. Everything will get stolen.” This is culture: finding Zambians who won’t steal from their employer is very difficult. That last sentence probably made you mad. In America, you don’t make negative generalizations about groups of people. They’re called “stereotypes,” and using them makes you a bad person. We tolerate positive generalizations, but only grudgingly. Since we dislike generalizations about groups of people, but we want to celebrate each group’s uniqueness, we’re big on what we Americans call “culture.” Every Sunday, at the Western style-shopping mall where foreigners hang out, Zambians come by to try to sell them crafts. There are sculptures of elephants, “traditional” spears and shields, and hide-covered drums. Interestingly, you never see Zambians shopping there. Zambians are buying imported Chinese electronics and American shoes from crowded markets far from the tourists. But Americans buy up the elephant statues like hotcakes, anxious to take home a bit of Zambian “culture.” This is not culture: Zambians don’t have elephant statues in their homes, nor spears and shields, and rarely dance to drum music. Zambians do listen to hip-hop and gospel (most of it from America), wear shirts and trousers in the American style (mostly American second-hand clothes), and spend their little money on the same appliances, beauty products, and cars that we have in America. We’ve been sold a surface-level multiculturalism, promulgated by cultural fairs like Princeton’s own International Day, that revolves around the three “D”s: dance, dress, and (culinary) dishes. My experience is that the food, the clothes, and the dance here in Zambia are actually quite similar to (and influenced by) America. Underneath, though, are very real differences in societal norms with serious implications. Now it is up to all of us who have lived abroad, Americans and foreign students alike, to dispel the happy “let’s celebrate the ways in which we’re all special by eating enchiladas and dumplings!” multiculturalism that abounds in America and communicate some of the more serious and important differences—good and bad—that we know to be true. Ted Gudmundsen, formerly Princeton ’07, now Princeton ’08, is working a one-year internship with a large non-governmental organization (NGO) in Zambia. |
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