Politics, Religion and other inpolite converstations

In the second week of attending the Summer Institute of Intercultural Communication in Portland Oregon, my friend and I stopped into a 7-11 to pick up some Starbucks Double shots. There I saw a guy who I guessed was from Ethiopia. I said "Salam, endeminea" which means "hello, how are you?" in Amharic. His face lit up and as he rang up the Doubleshot, we started discussing his area of birth and where he grew up. He mentioned how he was born in Eritrea, but raised in Gonder, Ethiopia. He acknowledged the difference in political boundaries between the two countries, but clearly stated that Eritrea and Ethiopia are the same people and should not have sacrificed so many lives in the war to create the political boundary.
Reflecting on this conversation I thought of other boundaries. Like the boundaries of polite conversation. "A gentleman does not discuss politics, religion or money,"I remember learning. Somehow these boundaries were lowered by just by taking a guess and saying some words in Amharic. Perhaps if I would have started the conversation more politely and not assumed the man was from Ethiopia, we would not have had such a meaningful brief interaction.
After a few hours my friend and I returned to the 7-11 for some renown Oregon beer. This time I went directly to the clerk and asked if the 7-11 carried tej (famous Ethiopian honey wine). Even though I knew that 7-11 does not carry Ethiopian tej, I figured I would playfully respect cultural uniqueness. To pronounce tej is difficult, one must project the t almost like you are saying tisk tisk tisk. So by accomplishing this feat of Ahmaric pronunciation and by acknowledging a familiar and sociable drink, the clerk was even more impressed. His eyes lit up and by the time we were checking out we crossed another boundary of polite conversation.
"You went to Orthodox Church right."-Clerk
"Yes, I went to one outside. I stood on the left side"-Me
"You know this one hummm la haaa la hum de ha de daa"-Clerk singing a church song.
"No, I don't think..."-Me
"Yes you know it, da de hum de ha de ha de ha"-Clerk
"De ha de ha de ha"-Me trying to follow along
Boundaries! Wow we were already onto religion after discussing politics during my last visit only a few hours earlier.
After paying for the beer and walking to the Summer Institute of Intercultural Communication I felt a feeling of right-path or like I was doing what I should be doing in life. This little interchange with the clerk renewed my sense of self being an interculturalist and payed respect to a portion his clerks identity. The majority of people I meet think of intercultural interaction in the negative. "Don't assume a person with Asian features was born in Asia." "Don't assume people are different than you." "In fact, don't assume anything, because that's a stereotype." I like to think of intercultural interaction in the positive. Like in the words of a famous Portland employer, Just Do It.

Intercultural Tip: Crossing boundaries is not polite, but neither is being an interculturalist.

Ethiopia Self

It seems there are many selves that inhabit my body. I have my improvisation self that I use when I am doing improvisational comedy on stage. This is the body where I adapt to change and ambiguity very quickly. I feel the improvisation body when I feel an expanse of chaos opening up around me. My body and tongue moves with the training and discipline of an improviser at the expense of careful reflection and varied interpretation.
Just this week I realized that I have another self that I developed while in Ethiopia. Whereas my improvisation body was trained through classes and refined through practice. My Ethiopia body was trained by the country itself. Countries train your body so that you make sense within the country. To be a little less figurative, people inside countries have facial expressions, gesticulations, and body movements. People reward you through nonverbal communication (smiles, eye contact, ect.) if you conform or at least connect with these non verbal behaviors.
Let me tell a story to ground the explanation in a lived experience. My wife and I were at her company’s diversity themed picnic. Wearing of ethnic dress was encouraged at this picnic. We weren’t sure if we were required to wear our own ethnic dress or just any dress that was strongly identified with an ethnicity, so we chose to wear our Ethiopian clothes. Jessi wore her Oromo dress and I wore my cotton Ethiopian long shirt. We figured that since current research tracing mitochondrial DNA traces (www.fwquestclub.com/welcome_files/papers/dna.pdf) all humanity back to Ethiopia, we had a good claim to Ethiopia’s ethnic dress. As we were walking to our car we saw two Ethiopian ladies shining a bright smile on both Jessi and I. We walked by them with a smile, then were drawn to turn around.

“You are wearing our culture clothes.” A lady said, starting a conversation.
“We just returned from Ethiopia a month ago.” We put out there as a hook for more conversation.
“Where do you live?” An interesting question posed by a man who just arrived to meet the two Ethiopian ladies.
“We are from uptown.” My wife and I respond. Identifying our uptown village pride.
Soon both my wife and I fell into our Ethiopia selves. My personal bubble shrank as I began talking to the male in the group. Jessi started gesticulating expressively. She then sought to explain the traditional medicine we had while sick in Ethiopia. She bent down and picked up a weed that resembled the leaves of medicine we took. As she pointed to the weed, I knew that she picked up right where we left off when in Ethiopia. She would never pluck grass from the ground and gesticulate like she was doing if she were explain something to a native United States-ian. In fact even she wouldn’t do it for a person from outside the US. This form of expressive and improvisational communication was the residual effect of our experience trying to communicate sans-lingua with people in Ethiopia. The accent, skin tone and knowledge that these strangers were from Ethiopia probably triggered the change. Before I know it Jessi was holding hands with the lady while trying to come up with the word for the medicinal plant.

Categorical Imperative, Training, Social Disorders

Now that I am back in the United States, I notice new things about myself. I am more bold with making things work that I would otherwise accept as part of a system. For example, the bus driver said that I didn’t have enough fare for the ride. First I tried to give him some Euros, which was worth more than the fare, then I appealed to his sense of family, “you can give this to your grandson, it is from Europe.” Then I tried appealing to his sense of pity, “please I can’t get the next bus because I would miss my flight.” When I realized that he was not working with me, I just ran off the bus at the stoplight, ran into a dry cleaner I had done business with earlier that day, “please, I am a loyal customer, I need change quick for the bus, that is my bus there, see?” I was able to get change and run back onto the bus, just in time. Upon reflecting on this situation, I wonder if I would have done this had I not spend two months in Africa. You see, if you allow them, different countries train you to operate within them. My experience in Ethiopia taught me that everything is negotiable: Prices, “how much is this traditional Ethiopian Toga? 300? I will offer you 100.” Policies, “The tej bet is now closed” “Please allow me in, I need to try this Ethiopian treasure of yours.” Statuses, “For 200 birr, we will turn this bus into a personal taxi for you if you need it.” Even sides of the road were negotiable. When a wedding was blocking the southbound side of the road, a group of south bound drivers decided on taking the northbound road until we passed the wedding party, essentially negotiating which side of the road could be driven on. Clearly nobody has read the Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals where Immanuel Kant declares the categorical imperative which goes something like, “if it is right in one case, it is right in all cases.” This idea of morality is uniquely Western and is not the case in either Asia or as I just learned Africa. Is the rest of the world more willing to negotiate, can they see the systems, processes, interactions, identities as more situation specific? Perhaps in a Western world where systems, infrastructure, mechanics work regularly, it is easier to see things as non negotiable.

The training that countries give you, if you are paying attention are valueable and are useful even when you leave. For example, while sitting here waiting for a flight, I noticed a European accent coming from a mouth of a person sitting next to me. I then realized I had Euros in my pocket that needed trading. I introduced myself to the lady next to me and then traded them at the bank rate. Both of us got a good deal and neither of us had to pay a bank for the transaction fee, which would have been quite steep on a mere 5 Euros. Would I have I thought of this opportunity or been so bold as to take it had I not been trained in negotiation as I had just been in Africa? Would I have thought to myself, “banks are for trading currency, therefore I must find a bank and pay a commission in order to turn my Euros into Dollars.”

One training I received was to save little pieces of rubbish that could be useful later. After a few experiences throwing something away, an empty bottle, a long piece of string, a plastic bag, I realized I could have used them later. I needed to store some liquid while in the village and I wondered why I had thrown away the plastic bottle. I had needed something to tie some clothes together and I wondered why I had thrown it away earlier, ect. So on my way walking to the terminal here now that I am back, just had second thoughts about recycling this little paper bag that contained my bagel. This is a sturdy little plastic bag, it could come in handy. I thought, a split second before I thought, this is what hoarders things. Right, I am throwing this away right now. But the place I was just in had trained me to be resourceful with what I had. This makes me think, is what is termed resourceful in one circumstance, termed a social disability in another circumstance. Maybe all social disabilities are just adaptations to situations that do not exist.

Intercultural Tip: Consider bizarre cultural behavior as an adaptation to situations you have not yet seen.

Male and Female work

My experience in Africa highlights the difference in gendered work. As I am walking along the streets I see men operating on motorcycles, pounding metal into a usable part, waiting tables and waiting at a taxi stand. I see women sitting behind market stalls, mixing flour into dough and rolling chat leaves into bundles. In my mind I struggle to find the difference in gendered work from what I can see on the street. From what I am seeing on the street (ie. Not what is indicated by larger studies of male and female work life)… Both men and women are doing physically toiling work. Both men and women are earning equally low pay. Both men and women are in various positions of status. Overall there may be gendered differences that I cannot see during my exploration of various towns, villages and cities. However, in contrast, there is one difference that shines out clear as day.

It is related to payout and revenue. Men are largely engaged in activities that have no incremental revenue, but a large payout at a specific point in time. Women are engaged in activities that have steady incremental revenue. For example men at a taxi stand will not make any money for hours, but then make a large amount of money after a drive. A woman behind a stall earns a little every hour the market is open and is steadily active during the time. A man working on a motorcycle is paid in one portion once the project is successfully completed. A women rolling chat can steadily earn a little each bundle she rolls.

Is there such a thing as feminine and masculine working styles at a fundamental level? We have seen the arguments showing gendered lines of work between income (women earn less), physical toil (men do more hard labor) traditional roles (women do teaching). But what about women earn their amount bit by bit and men risk not earning anything until one big payoff. In the business world I can see these styles applied to business situations. This is what I have heard:

Feminine: “We just need to roll up our sleeves and work on this project every day and keep chipping away at the problem”

Masculine: “We need a new strategy that will pay off big.”

Feminine: “Just keep working on it and eventually we will have a quality project that people will like”

Masculine: “We need a new idea or product”

Perhaps these different styles come down to the sexual fact that women bore children and needed regular sources of goods to take care of regular eating habits. Perhaps these differences relate to gendered notions of risk. Perhaps these differences contribute to the theory that men went out for days on the hunt while women incrementally added to the value of the group by gathering nuts and berries.

Markets and Taxi Cartels

During my first few days in Addis Ababa I was spending nearly 10 dollars a day on transportation. The price was ridiculous. That is the price of a whole day’s worth of delicious meals and macchiato breaks between each meal. I knew there was a market disparity because of my white skin, but could it have been so high? 10 dollars is what most Ethiopians make in a week, so there must be another way. I tried bargaining at taxi stands. However this quickly turned futile as the men quickly locked in on a price. Before I go on further about pricing, let me refresh you on a brief economics lesson on markets and prices.
In a free market, services are priced at a certain point. (Let’s say 10 for one taxi ride) At this price point providers of services enter the market ("I can make a weeks wages if I find just one foreigner, I'm in!!"). A flood of service people enter the market ("Looks like these guys all had the same idea, so much for the easy $10.") At this point there is more supply of service than demand and service providers must compete. Service providers can either compete on price or service ("These fools have dirty cars, I will have the cleanest and rake in all the customers." or "So much for my $10 lottery ticket, I will increase my chances if I lower my price to $9"). Those who can't provide a better service or lower price, can't compete, do not get the customers and leave the market (I'm going back to making a sure $10 a week verses waiting for the $10 lottery ticket that prefers cleaner cars and $9 rides"). Eventually the market achieves a state of equilibrium where there are just the right amount of services for the amount people are willing to make.
The scenario presupposes two things free markets and competitive forces. Two things that exist in abundance in the Western World I inhabit, but do not exactly work as such in other areas of the world. I should have remembered that men at taxi stands quickly apply cartel pricing when I start to apply competitive forces to achieve a price that is more fair. Cartel pricing is also called fixed pricing. If everybody locks in their heels on a price, then everyone will get richer. This is such an effective strategy for business, that governments around the world have strict laws forbidding cartel pricing.
Cartel pricing and competitive forces sounds rather academic. Here is how I imagine these two concepts sound.
"Listen Tagle, you can't park your taxi here at this taxi park because you cheated all of us by offering to drive the foreigner for $9. Get out of here, and you can't come to my birthday party either"
"I needed the $9 you guys. Since your nephew brought his taxi to our stand were are not seven at this stand it is getting crowded. 9$ was a lot better than my one in seven chance of getting $10."
"You sound like an economist, get out of here and teach a class."

The long and the short of it was that I was not going to pay wildly inflated prices. It wasn't so much a money thing as a being cheated because I am a foreigner thing. Some foreigners have experienced affluence guilt and pay inflated prices to assuage their feeling of good fortune. However, I know that I have a set amount to spend in a county. That money can either be spent on people providing services and products that are worthwhile or the money can be spent on cheats and over chargers. The charitable advantage to spending money on things that are worthwhile is that you encourage people doing work for money verses people waiting half the day at a taxi stand for the lotto ticket foreigner.

Crime, Money, Relationship

Addis Ababa a poor and densely populated city. It suffers from the ills of all modern capital cities, traffic jams, pollution, pick pockets, noise, begging, prostitution.... Did you notice something missing from this list of modern ills? There is one element that would have drastically and irrevocably affected my stay there, violent street crime. This is not to say that violent crime is non existent, but by comparison to the other capital cities in Africa, Addis Ababa is a Garden of Eden.
I have been in much wealthier countries including my own where I feared for my personal safety much more than I did while in Addis. This is not just my own perception either, friends and acquaintances, locals and tourists I had spoken to all agreed that Addis Ababa is unique in its safety for both tourists and Ethiopians. That got me to thinking...
The typical liberal ideology with which I was raised held that poverty causes crime. If people had more opportunity they would commit less street crime. The dangerous neighborhoods were those without jobs, money or opportunity.
By extension one would think that a city where people are sleeping in shacks or under boxes on the street would be very dangerous. But it is not.
So what is happening? One ideas is that absolute poverty is not the cause in crime, but relative poverty is the problem. So, if everybody else is poor, one doesn't feel compelled to perpetrate crimes to make the overall relative wealth more even. However, this did not seem to be the case as there were plenty of rich folks in Addis who were driving Range Rovers and eating large carnivorousness meals on cafe tables for all to see.
Another ideas is that they lack weaponry to make crimes. However, one only needs a kitchen knife for a personal robbery and Ethiopia has plenty of wicked traditional weapons that would also do the job. Moreover, it boarders Somalia which is a virtual America personal firearms with AK-47s going for about $5.
Another idea I still hear pushed around by people trying to explain violent crime is this idea of homogeneity. For example, Japan and Scandanavia don't have street crime because they are homogeneous societies. Ethiopia has a wealth of ethnic and tribal diversity, there are around 80 spoken languages. Plus the country has serious Balkanization pressures with various groups that have struggled and succeeded and others currently struggling for independence from Ethiopia.
Another ideas is that it is a peaceful country, but with a vicious war with Eritrea ending in 1991 and the invasion of Mogadishu in 2006, the state has plenty of blood on its hands. But none the less this political violence does not trickle down to one on one street violence that can be felt and seen on the street.
So what could it be?
Could it be that the people are less materialistic? Kids kill for flashy sneakers in the L.A. Is the commercial pressure less intense in Ethiopia so that people identify more as a member of their family, community and tribe and less as a wearer of clothes,flashers of bling, consumers of consumables?
Could it be that since opportunities for creating material wealth are so limited, that people focus on other forms of wealth. Such as being a wealth of stories in their community, or making a wealth of traditional baskets, or being a wealth of compassion for those needing it.
Maybe the entire idea of human relationship is different. Efficient economic systems are able to reduce individuals to their productive and consumptive behaviors. With this reduction of people, it is easier to see a person walking down the street as a carrier of money to be beaten out of. Perhaps in inefficient economic systems, people are hold a richer notions of human relationship.

Marathons, Sudoku and intercultural adventure,

During an argument about the importance of first impressions and etiquette, I had to stop myself and determine why I was getting so heated about the topic. Why was I insistent on making the best impression as possible even thought it may not have mattered? In fact locals usually expect foreigners to display a certain level of ignorance with local customs, so its not like I am really going to offend people. Also, its not that I am trying to curry favor with someone, usually the person I am trying to work with has little influence over events. So what is it? I realized that it is a game that I am playing, not a little game but a game like marathon games. A game like chess game. I realize that intercultural interaction is my chess, marathons and sudoku. It is a game that I have been competing in since my first trip to Oxford.
I remember my first day in Oxford. I walked into a coffee shop and was puzzling over the coffee selections.
"What is a Canned Coffee?" I ask in my best English accent.
"Its something those Americans like."
"Well in that case I will have an espresso."
This is my first intercultural game and I scored points here. But what is it? What did I gain out of this? Why was I thrilled? I know it wasn't because I was ashamed to be an American. Nor was it because I wanted to trick people. It also wansn't because I like fitting in. Any friends from high school will attest to this. What I realized was that her assumption that I was not American proved that I had accurately "code switched". This is a term in the field to describe a shifting of language or ques that communicate on a deeper cultural level. Think shifting you guys to you all. Or shifting from "diversity initiative" to "inclusion".
Why do I like this intercultural game? Probably because it was a skill I developed while moving around the country as much as I did. People tend to like challenges they have a head start in. Besides, why do people like marathons or sudoku? It's a challenge that pushes them to the next level.
So what can one do with these intercultural skills? Lets ask Karen Armstrong. I would appreciate your comments on how this blog post connects with Armstrongs talk.

Safety Matches

When I bought matches to do some grilling, I had always wondered why box indicated "safety matches." What was so safe about these matches? Were other matches dangerous? Aren't all matches dangerous in the hands of the wrong person.
So, I concluded that the word safety on the box of matches was just there to satisfy some advertising need. Perhaps it made people feed better playing with Prometheus' creation. This I thought before I went to Uganda.
There I encountered Krishna Matches. They had a nice little picture on the matchbook of the blue Hindu Messiah smiling as he brings you the ability to make fire. After the electricity went out one day I was happy I had saved my Krishna matches to light a candle. I struck the match against the rough striking surface and the head of the match started on fire, broke off and fell into my lap. I slapped out the flame in my lap. That is when I revised my explanation of "safety" in "safety matches".

Technology and Timezones at the end of the road.

As a child I spent most of my time living in the Southwest. Our family would take visitors to the most Southwestern thing we could, old west town. As I walked through the long dirt road flanked by old west buildings, I remember wishing to see these places alive. I remember straining my imagination to recreate a typical day in town. Imagining it not as a historical playground, but as a functional space. Why did people enter this building for? Did they wear pistols inside? Where did they tie their horses?
Several years later I am in Chencha, which is literally at the end of the road. Type Chencha Ethiopia into Google maps to see what I mean by the end of the road.

While walking into town, I look around and I am flanked by old cinderblock buildings separated by a muddy dirt road. Could it be that my childhood wishes came true and I am now in the closes living analogy to an old west town? Goats are being herded down the dirt road, kids roam freely, most people are using their feet for transportation, something broken lays in the road waiting to be used for scrap parts or burned for fun, a shack that could most accurately be translated as a saloon hosts dozens of men drunk from home brewed honey wine at 10 in the morning. The function of the each space is clearly seen through its design. As I am trying to open my eyes even wider to take in everything that is happening, a man approaches me with a modern device clutched in this hand. I look at his face for intentions, is he threatening or ready to try some con? He is holding a mobile phone and from what I gathered from language and hand gestures he wanted me to use it. He then places his mobile phone against my ear and holds it as I hear a voice mail message “I am not here right now, leave a message. Beep.”. "Its voicemail," I explain to a blank face. Time is running out so I leave the best message I could, “I am a tourist in Chencha and I guy approached me on the road to leave a message, I guess, ok call him back.” I nod indicating that I am done with the call. He then asks me what is going on. From what I understand, he recognizes the man’s voice on the other line, but the man does not respond.
I think for a moment as to what could have been going on. Does he expect a response from a voice mail? Does he mean he needs a return call? Suddenly experience I have been having and this experience comes together to form a new realization. All the while I have been in East Africa, people have been struggling to answer the phone even when the time is inappropriate (in American standards). People have answered the phone in several cases: mid conversation, while being introduced during a semi formal event and even while giving a professional back message. Finally, I understand it here, at the end of the road. People in East Africa do not have voice mail! If someone calls, just like in the days before answering machines, people struggle to take the call. Do you remember running into your house in the 80s, to catch the phone? Also, if they hear a voice mail, they probably do not know what to do. Remember the explicit instructions we used to give when answering machines were new? “Please leave your name, time you called, ect.” I write "used to give", but people are still leaving these instructions twenty years after the advent of answering machines. Who do they think is calling?, someone from East Africa?
So here I am on this dirt road doing my best to be helpful. I must explain two things timezones and voicemails. First I explain that although it is 10 AM here, it is around 2 AM in the United States. So, he should consider the time difference when calling. He thought I was joking and I don’t think that he bought the whole timezone thing. Then I explain the voicemail. “When you hear a beep, leave a message that includes your number and your request, just like you would write in a letter.” He then asks me why the man is not calling him back, and I have to explain a third thing, that caller ID is usually not transmitted via transnational phone lines. Three big ideas for a small town on the end of the road.

Hammar Hitchhike, Facial Expression, First Times

Why do I love this photo so much? It seems to capture a moment. When two people from two worlds look at each other and both are like, wow, what is expected of me in this particular social situation. Let me start from the beginning.
I was in this car driving from one village near Turmi to Dimeka. There was a Hammar woman on the side of the road. As we passed her she was waiving her hands. I figured there was only one place to go on a Saturday in this region and that was the Dimeka market. Since we had some extra space in the car, I asked the driver to stop so we could give the lady a ride.--You know there are certain conventions, that we learn when we are very young and do them all the time, so we just think they are natural like breathing or sneezing? One of the reasons I love international and intercultural travel is to bring those conventions into light and reveal them as what they are, unnatural learned behaviors that are practiced in my particular culture.--Once the lady walked up to our stopped car she stood outside it looking in the window. Had she decided against hitching a ride with us? Was she afraid of our foreign faces? Was she wondering what she would have to pay for the ride? After a while I figured that she did not know how to open a door. So I opened it for her and waved her in. The whole experience transpired in less than two minutes, but was earth shattering in what it revealed. Had this woman never opened up a car door before? Is this her first time in a car?
When she came into the car to sit on the seat, her movement was very deliberate and kind of a jerky motion. Like you and I would have saddled a camel or entered a tuk-tuk. Maybe she had never lifted herself into a car and onto a car seat before. This very well could have been her first time.
Once she was in the car, I tried to make light conversation. I didn't know any of the local language, but I figured the names of towns would be the same. "We are going to Dimeka" I say, hoping for some acknowledgment. --nothing. "Dimeka" I repeat again. --Nothing. Then I say about how we are going to Key Afar next, again relying on the assumption that the sounds of these town names are similiar in the language. She looks at me and makes this face at the driver which is unmistakeable. It is the kind of shy, stifled smile face that says, "This whole experience is pretty wild, but I really don't know what the heck is going on." I know, because I have made this face many times while traveling the world. Its nice that as humans, we still share many of the same facial expressions.
As a side note, did you know that until Paul Ekman did his work in the 1970s, people thought facial expressions were culturally programmed? Common, look at this video and tell me that this is not a universal face for, "WTF"

Animals and Humans

Ethiopians and Ugandans seem to spend their lives in close proximity to animals. While on the way down town, we had to wait for a herd of goats to cross the way. While driving to the office my host dad almost ran over a chicken. While waking up near the center of the capital city, I was awoken by a rooster. City life in East Africa seems to be still very different than city life in the West. While thinking more about it, what seems strange is that the only life we see in the West is other humans. The rest of the world is surrounded by a biodiversity that reminds them of their place in the organic kingdom. I wonder if living so close to other animals reveals certain insights. Does a mother chicken leading her little chicks reinforce the prominent in West African expectation that children are the sole responsibility of women? Do goats following in herds; reinforce the notion of going with the group? I wonder if Americans would think differently about social relations if we had a closer relationship with animals.

Why is this funny

Humor sure is different is different places.

Mind, Function and Dorze houses

My dad used to explain that people are only able to see things that relate to their lives in some way. Our minds must filter all of the input we are receiving from the environment and it chooses to concentrate on things that can be connected to something in our existing life. To illustrate this concept, he told the story of an researcher who took a villager from a stone age society in the jungle to New York City. The struggle the villager was facing at the time was one common to those that practice swidden farming. The bananas which the people eat everyday were being grown far away and now people in the villager were devoting much of their resources to transporting the bananas back to the village. What the villager noticed was not the towering skyscrapers, blinking lights, ethnic diversity, noisy urbanity or amazing technology. What he noticed was the one thing he could use to make his life better. When asked what the villager noticed and learned about New York he described a device that could help him transport bananas. The researcher thought he was talking about a car and started to explain how they needed gas and would not be practical back in the jungle, but as the villager clarified, the researcher noticed he was talking about something more fundamental. The villager discovered the wheel.

As many of you know I have recently purchased a house. In the American custom of house buying it is expected to save up from 5-7 years so as to make a down payment on a house and then another 30 years to pay off the loan. One way of thinking about it, is that your are building (wealth to build) the house for 37 years. The time to build this house affects other aspects of life as well, such as saving for retirement, perusing further education and starting a family. So while I was in Dorze village in southern Ethiopia, I was surprised to learn that it only takes about 3 months to build a house that will stand for 60 years. I started thinking, what if I could just buy some land in Minneapolis and build a Dorze house. It will not have all the comforts of a modern home, but is it less than the comfort of being debt free? I could also buy a lot of comfort with the money I am not paying on a house. After the repressive reality of city codes, peer pressure and cold winters set in I tried to abstract this idea a bit to see if I could still extract value from it. Why are Dorze houses build in only 3 months and can last for 60 years? There are several reasons all of them integrated within society, environment and physical mechanics. First the house is built with local materials. None of the cost of the house is tied to transportation. What would a house built entirely of uptown materials be? What kind of trees do we have here? Any strong grasses? What is the consistency of our sand and mud, could be used to construct buildings? If anything broke in the house, I could just walk around Lake Calhoun to find the materials I needed. Also the entire village bands together to build the house. What if I could take the therapist skills of my wife, electrical engineering skills of my roommate, retail, technical writing and broadcasting skills of my housemate, and pediatrician and architect skills of my neighbors to create a house? And then when it was time for their house I could use my interculturalist skills to help build there’s. Also, everybody builds the same style of house. When I look at suburban developments, I see this method is being used to reduce cost. But what if our houses were all the same? Why must we have individual houses? Does a house represent so much of ourselves, so we must create an entirely new creation? Finally, the thing that was truly impressive about the Dorze houses was how function was intimately tied to design. The barn portion of the house acted as central heating for the people. The breath of the animals kept people warm while sleeping in the cold Dorze evenings. Also, the houses were built up to 50 meters high. This height would slowly shrink as termites ate the bottom of the house. Termites were an assumed threat and houses were built higher to account make up for the eventual shrinkage. Just like buying a larger size of close that will shrink in the wash. What would our homes look like if function were integrated with design? It would be nice if somehow the time I spend on the internet would vacuum the floor. Or the cat I keep for company would actually keep me warm in the wintertime.

The Dorze house will continue to stay in my mind to challenge current scripts I have about how to live in a space.

Outsider, Pride and Wine

While in Africa I could not hide my whiteness. No matter how good I got at handshakes, greetings, or facial expressions, I could never, for a second, blend in. I was always foreign. This is a familiar experience for me, as a child I was always moving to new cities, so I have grown accustom to being new, foreign, an outsider. In fact this may be the reason I travel like I do. My identity is locked into being a foreigner, so paradoxically while I am foreign, I am most myself. Regardless of my comfort with being an outsider, this status brings certain handicaps. With this handicap came a multitude of obstacles: increased prices, innovative services and service charges and additional governmental regulations.
Being a foreigner does bring certain benefits however. After being denied entry to one of the premier tej bets (honey wine places) of Addis Ababa, I was determined to find a way in. Most of the tej is artificially sweetened with sugar or adulterated with other ingredients. This place offered aged, pure honey tej and my taste buds were screaming for it. What could I say to the guard that would convince him to let me inside? I could beg, I could reason, I could offer a bribe. By this time I had about a month of experience being a farangi (foreigner) so I was starting to figure out how to use my status to my advantage. I learned introductions and stories are an important part of the culture, so I started with this. “ I have been in your wonderful country for nearly a month. I have seen the beautiful gabis (white cotton cloaks), danced exciting dances…” I shuffle my feet in an attempt to recreate the gurage dance. “I have tasted the doro wat (Ethiopia’s national dish).” Here is the sinker, I realize that my role as a foreigner is to be impressed with the things Ethiopians are proud of. “The only thing that remains is for me to try tej and I am told this place is the best.” A tired nod of acceptance and a wave of the arm signals the success of the technique. The tej tasted every bit as good as I had hoped, probably because it was adulterated with a hint of intercultural satisfaction.
This technique was locked in my memory and sealed with the taste of honey. However I didn’t expect to use it again so soon. Standing before the official at the check in counter in Charles de Gaulle airport I was faced with a similar non. Although Delta airlines bumped me off my flight and stranded me in Paris for a day, this official would not allow me to check a third bag that contained wine. “You have checked the maximum luggage.” I was told frankly. I tried reason, “It’s a small bag,” non. I tried cajoling, “Here, I will just put the bag here in the luggage area and I will pick it up in America, no problem,” non. Then I remember, I must use intercultural competence. I lift my eyebrows and push out my lips ever so slightly, the way I have seen many Parisians do as they explain something rather matter of fact. "How can I be in Paris and not buy wine?” and just to put a button on it I figured I would not make this situation not about me, but about something I suspected the French value more “please…for the wine". He reaches over, grabs a little tag and affixes it to my passport.

Intercultural Tip: Appeal to Pride

Coffee Ceremony VS. Tea Ceremony

Many people in the United States have heard of the Japanese Tea Ceremony. It serves as a powerful motif for what we understand as Japanese; intense focus on process, delicate attention paid to inputs and prescribed methods of ingestion. Unfortunately I was unable to attend a tea ceremony while I was living in Japan. Nobody I knew was qualified to administer the ceremony and the local tourist hotels were charging outrageous amounts. The ceremony acted as another motif, perfection unconnected and unattainable to the people of Japan.
In a way this ceremony is a connection that both America and Japan share. Ceremonies and rituals are reserved for rare once in a lifetime events and are not used to focus or give significance to everyday events.
One of the things I am enjoying in Ethiopia is the daily use of the coffee ceremony. As many of you know, coffee originates in Ethiopia. Its powerful ability to extract productivity from workers as well as its increasingly delicious taste has spread it across the world. Around the corner from our very very budget hotel in Addis Ababa, there is a little hole in the wall performing daily coffee ceremonies for those wishing to spend 28 cents for a cup. The ritual is this: Take green beans and roast them in a pan above a wood burning flame. As they start to pop like popcorn, bring the pan to participants and allow them to waft the aroma towards their nose. Then take the beans and crush them with a pestle and mortar. Pour the crushed beans in a pot and add some spices and boiled water. Serve the coffee and bring by a live plant called “health of Adam”. The coffee drinker then pinches a bit off the plan and adds the leaf to his cup. All the while this ritual is taking place incense is burning over an other little wood burning stove. The coffee ritual takes place in specific little areas with cups arranged a certain way and a particular curved wooden stool. These ceremony places can be seen almost everywhere, in the international airport right outside the baggage claim, in hotel lobbies, in traditional restaurants, in hole in the wall cafes and in peoples homes. I am waiting to see it traveling on a bus or on a donkey.
To abstract this a bit, I am very excited to see how Ethiopian tradition is woven into the fabric of modern life. Unlike the tourist poster I often saw in Japan where the Geisha is talking on a cell phone, which never happens because the Geisha are tucked away much like the tea ceremony, the blending of tradition and modern is a part of life here in Ethiopia. Women wear traditional white cotton robes each Sunday to church, traditional dances are performed on modern music videos on the Ethiopian MTV, and traditional Ethiopian food served at most restaurants. It is nice to visit a country, particularly in a continent that is still struggling from the identity crisis imposed by colonialism, that is very much itself. The past and the present are more visually and practically connected.

Middle Class Confidence

I think I must have walked through a middle class neighborhood today. It was off a major road in Addis. While there were many aspects typical of a rural village such as mud and straw houses, corrugated steel, spices and vegetables spread out in the sun, chickens running around, ect. There were also satellites on top of the houses, plastic chairs children in nice school uniforms asking to shake our hands (vs. begging for money), and a sort of confidence on the faces of people suggesting a sort of middle class confidence.
I am always interested in the middle class of the countries I visit. Everywhere you go there will be wealthy people and poor people, but the middle class is what drives things that are interesting. While the wealthy folks do their best to imitate western styles of fashion, entertainment, and luxury and the poor struggle to get by, the middle class strikes a balance between tradition and the modern life. So what does this look like? If looks like a satellite on top of a corrugated steel roof on top of a mud hut in the city off of a main road in the capital city.
So where are you? Are you struggling to keep up with the fashions of New York and Tokyo? Are you interested in preserving the sometimes hokey traditions of the past and make them part of your new life? Can you innovate solutions to housing, transportation using local materials and fixes?

Intercultural Senses

Intercultural adventure assaults the senses. Taste is one adventure that requires bravery, patience and sometimes an iron gut. Before I left for Uganda, my professor Dr. Chapman gave an ominous warning, “…you will have to learn to like Matoke” the staple of the southern Ugandan diet.. After plate after plate of Matoke was served, and each time I struggled to adjust my palette with a little self coaching. Yes! Matoke again! I love this special dish. It is the pride of the nation and the food that brings the men back home to their wives. I would tell myself as a heaping pile of steamed unsweetened mashed bananas was added to my plate. By the end of my trip I had made my peace with Matoke and was eating it regularly.
I didn’t think the roles would be reversed so soon. Now I am attending a district conference in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia where various Rotarians from East Africa are attending. While waiting in line for Ethiopian food I overhear various Ugandans express their difficulty with the local bread, ingera. “It is too difficult, I cannot handle it”. “How can they eat this?” “Beware it bites you back.” This morning I ask various Ugandan Rotarians, “how are you enjoying the ingera?” I am met with scrunched faces, “Alex I tell you, it is difficult.” “I bet you are waiting to eat some nice matoke again.” I learned to say these things while in Japan. Forming bonds while talking about food is very effective. “Yes, it is not long now till I can enjoy my wife's Matoke.”

Intercultural tip: Talking about food is an effective way to break the ice. It is more culturally specific and interesting than talking about the weather.

Development Values Indicators

Development of a country is measured by certain factors such as infant mortality rate, gross national product and literacy levels. While considering these factors I started wondering if these were culturally biased? Development is another word for progress towards specific values. I am including a list of values various Ugandans have shared with me and translated it into development language.

1. Household capacity to host guests and extended family.
2. Average familial relations per person
3. Gross National excitement expressed during football matches
4. Number of muzungus (white people) well hosted
5. Inter-neighbor walkway usage
6. Gross output of wedding invitations
7. Average financial contribution to the educational development of another family member
8. Gross expertise as measured by white hairs

Compare with traditional development indicators here

http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/uganda_statistics.html

Awefulness Suffering Aid

Here is the story as explained by the Ugandans I have met. AIDS hits Uganda and people start dieing off. People start using condoms to save their lives. Anti retroviral are introduced and people can start living a "positive life". People are less interested in using condoms and the HIV infection rate increases.

My time is short so I will blurt out some raw, unrefined thoughts for your digestion.

Here are my thoughts.
If anti retroviral were not invented until later, would vast cultural change regarding condom usage have taken a stronger hold in society?
One level deeper
Is a certain amount of suffering needed before long lasting change is made? Europe suffered war after war calumniating in two world wars before Europeans created institutions that would decrease the likely hood of another war. Maybe a certain amount of awfulness needs to be expressed and told as stories in a culture before a furious drive for reform is born.

Other Thoughts

What if aid and development never came to Africa? What solutions would have been created by what I have experienced to be a hard working and innovative people? What African solutions is the world missing because the west is giving easily available and cheap solutions away? I was in a woodworking shop where all the mechanical tools were antiquated tools donated by Italy after the woodworking industry there took a change for digital technology. What tools would Africans develop if no free tools were given as charity? Could a woodworking technological breakthrough occur in the outskirts of Gulu, Uganda, due to the right amount of need, innovation and time?

I look forward to developing some of these thoughts more and forming stronger connections, but for the meantime I am sharing them with you.

Ask three times, teach a class of women entrepreneurs

I remember learning during one of my intercultural courses that in some cultures you must make a request numerous times before it is understood as legitimate. So after learning that the Rotarian Host of the North Kampla club was also a director of a Uganda Women Entrepreneurs Association Limited, I was very interested. I brought it up once in the car that I would enjoy getting involved somehow. Then I brought it up again the next day as we were eating lunch. I brought it up a third time, feeling as though I would be a pest, but this time she opened up the phone and made the arrangement. I thought it would be like other meetings I have scheduled with entrepreneurs where I would walk through their businesses and they would describe the various functions of equipment. You can imagine my surprise when I walked into an office and was led into a room filled with nearly a dozen women and was asked to present on my experience developing entrepreneurs. The whole thing went like a charm.
“Alex, what would you say to those women who think that they need a plenty of capital to start a business?” asked the coordinator. “I would say the less capital you have to start with, the less you can lose.” The students responded with clapping and laughing. The ladies were with me after that and the rest of the presentation went well. I continued to explain how I see entrepreneurs getting into trouble when they throw too much money at a business and don’t grow organically.
While making this presentation and answering their questions, I stared to incorporate what I had learned speaking in Uganda.
“If you are working in the business and not on the business, you can not what?... grow”
“Your employees are not your family, they will leave you and you must be, what?..prepared, how?..by training plenty of people”
The women had plenty of questions regarding mostly human resources interesting enough. One lady told me how she can control her employees from stealing eggs from her chickens. Another lady asked how she can retain her best employees. Another one asked what type of crafts the Muzungus (white people) like. I answered their questions and spoke passionately and practically about business development. I was encouraged to see the ladies busy writing down suggestions.
All in all I could tell these were true entrepreneurs. They were excited about growing their business and always keeping their eyes open to the next opportunity. They pressed for practical answers to their questions and were quickly on to the next thing once the meeting was over. I just turn of fire while doing entrepreneurial stuff and this was the best experience of Uganda so far.

Just Quotes

“Amongst the Acholli, blood is still thicker than the baptismal water” Dr. William (PhD. In Theology)

“Bow and arrow is better than a gun. If the robber sees a gun he will know that you must fire a warning shot. But if he sees a bow and arrow, he will know that he will get stung”

Alex: So, I see some Rastafarians here. What do they do here?
David: They join bands and live off the generosity of others.
Alex” Ok, I was wondering if it was the same as in America

“The man is Afraid of getting married too soon, his wife may lose discipline”

Alex: She looks a little light, is she from Uganda?
David: Yes, she may have the blood of some of your brothers and sisters

Being and Nothingness and Honey

I had been walking though the market today. A market of fish guts, hair salons, fabric, fruit, and fun. I saw all these flys and bees swarming around this one stall and had to check it out. Initially, I thought it would be some sort of bucket that traps insects so people could eat them later, just like the grasshoppers a while ago, but in fact it was just honey. I asked the lady and she opened the honey pot which was also full of bees swimming for their lives. I asked if people eat the bees and she said no, then I asked for 2000 shillings worth of honey. I got a little plastic sac full of honey and one live bee just for good measure. I walked around the market some more and started to feel a little sun stroked, my brain started to slow, eventually I was just standing at an intersection desperation trying to make my dehydrated brain decide whether to turn left or right. Just then and there a man asked me how I was doing. He was at a motorcycle repair shop, so i figured he had nothing monetary to gain by interacting with me. I said it was hot and he asked me to sit down on the bench. I sat there next to him for five minutes not talking, just sitting, just being. It made me think, this is it! This is what I try to achieve while in other places. A state where I can just be with other people, and not engage in an economic transaction, not interview them for information, just be. When I type it here on the blog, it doesn't look as significant as it felt while I was there, but I think there is something significant here. Eventually, one of his friends asked what I was doing with a live bee in a clear plastic sac. I told him it was my guard bee. After a confused look, I explain that if a robber comes to me I will release the bee and then made a gesture with my hand to indicate an angry bee chasing and stinging a robber. The joke spread through out the cycle shop. Just being and joking.

Flexibility and what?..Objectives

One of the interesting speaking patterns I have heard here in Gulu is a sort of professorial way of delivering information, but instead of explaining it, I will demonstrate it to you.
I have locked down an other intercultural skill that is necessary for effectiveness and it has to deal with flexibility. In much of the literature regarding intercultural competence, flexibility, holding judgment, and dealing with ambiguity are all skills with high value. But I have found that that being too, what?.. too flexible, is also not favorable. Yesterday, I was a little too flexible and I spent my day waiting for people and once they arrived, it was too late to accomplish the tasks I was hoping to accomplish. So to accomplish, what? Tasks, I should have taken off on foot and arrived at my destination. Why?..too accomplish what I need to do in the time I have. So it seems that the intercultural skills in not just flexibility, but it is the ability to know when to push for a conclusion, and when to go with the flow. Push for conclusion, when?.. When it involves something that needs to be done in a limited time and when you don’t have to cajole too many people. Go with the flow, when? When there are too many individuals to influence or when the stakes are low. Why?..because you don’t want to burn yourself out or ruin relationships by driving too hard for your way each time, but you also don’t want to be thinking on the plane on the way back home, I spent all my time waiting for others.

Is white a color

I was in my host David’s car after returning from a traditional wedding called an introduction. My butt was tired and my legs were weak from sitting during the 5 hour ceremony. ‘’How many people were there” I asked. “Maybe 500 or 600” my host responds. “I think I was the only white person there” I observe. “Yes, it was nice to have some color”. I smile slowly to myself, finally I am in a country where I can add some color.
I have already blogged on handholding, so why not dig right into another taboo? Color here is not spoken in hushed terms here as it is back home. My whiteness is acknowledged and attributed to several personal characteristics.
“I like this Nile Special Beer, it has a rich taste.”-Me
“Yes, the whites like it.”-Lady sitting next to me

“These grasshoppers are pretty good and crunchy”-Me
“The whites are usually terrified of them”-My laughing host

“Why are the children all crying?”-Me
“They are afraid of the white skin”-Preschool teacher

As an interculturalist, it is liberating to finally be able to talk about culture and color in un-hushed tones.



Too all those who think kids are colorblind, I have some video of some screaming children I would like you to watch. Stay tuned.

Some of the infants here are afraid of my whiteness. While entering a preschool a small child started crying, then others started crying as well, soon the whole preschool was crying. I asked the teacher why they were crying and she told me in good humor, that they were afraid of my white skin. We had a quick laugh and one of the members of my team started singing and clapping, and the eruption of sobs soon evaporated. But thinking back, I was wondering if the same things happened in the United States with an Ugandan and a room full of white children. What shame the teacher would face. Would the children be required to take diversity training? Would a cover up explanation be used, “they are just tired”.
I was also wondering if I was ever terrified by a different color person. All of these kids who are crying are before the age when they store memories of experience, so I doubt of anyone could recall if they had the experience. But my Brazilian Boss in Japan tells the story of the first time he saw a black person. He started to cry because he thought the person was all burnt. I wonder what explanations kids are coming up with for my white skin.

Intercultural Questioning, Child Solidiers and Mud Huts

Intercultural communication tips.

With more of the world speaking English as a second language than as a first, I think it is important to distinguish the difference in how commutation can be done effectively. The first rule is that although English is limited, a person can still be very intelligent. Although this seems like a stupid observation, I find it is an important one to draw attention to. Simple words do not indicate simple thoughts. So the challenge is to ask questions in simple words, but ones which can allow for a complex response.
For example, when asking a question, I typically ask the question that I want answered instead of the literal question that I have. For example,
I have the question, what type of people build these thatched huts, how does society pass on this traditional building technique, and are only certain people building these.
This is a complex question and I am more interested in getting the answer than asking an elegant question. So I think to myself, what question is simple, quick and will provide an answer that is satisfying to my questions. I asked this one instead,
can all people build these thatched huts if they wanted too? **answer below
Walla this seemed to work. Because the person read into my question and honoured it by providing a full answer, my curiosity was satisfied.
Also, I find that providing a context is helpful for leading a person to answer the question you are curious about. For example here is one that I asked today at the World Vision Camp that provides counselling to former child soldiers:
A lot of the mental health therapies from the west. Do you provide therapy to child soldiers that involve traditional dancing or other truly Ugandan forms of therapy? **answer below
If I were to ask just the question part, in my experience, I would not gotten an answer in the direction that I was hoping for.

Answer Key

Thatched huts are part of a traditional Acholii man’s education. Boys learn to construct one and smear the outside with dark mud which makes it look beautiful.

The Ugandan forms of therapy involve traditional dance. Which provides a rhythmic way to exercise, connect with history and connect with a larger sense of family. Also, a sense of global relationship is formed by creating a pen pal network. When former child soldiers get and send mail to their pals in the US, they feel like the world cares about them. Also play therapy and art therapy are used for both assessment and therapy tools.

Taboos and Handholding

I am now in Gulu. While at the Acholli Inn I was introduced to my host, Dr. David. He is a doctor and a teacher at Gulu university. One thing that was interesting was that he reached out to hold my hand while showing me around the area. It was interesting to have my cultural boundaries tested. In all my travels, I have rode atop dangerous buses with the cargo, slept in ancient temples, ate snakes, alligators, beating hearts, escaped robbers, awoke in clinics. But somehow of all things,.. gentle hand holding sounds my taboo alarms? I would like to think of myself as able to be comfortable and find my place in many cultures. It is infact a large part of my identity to be able to blend and navigate various cultures. So here I am holding hands with a respected Doctor reducing myself to the lowest level of intercultural competence. "what will others think", "what is communicated by this hand holding", "what is the most masculine way to hold hands", "should I use a tight grip, weak grip, interlocking fingers"., what is the length of time I should be holding hands. These are the ideas going through my head. It is so silly to be so pressed with something so simple. What a funny taboo.
Did men in the USA hold hands or were they at least more comfortable with physical contact before homosexuality came out of the cultural closet? Did the debate regarding gays force all male to male contact to become taboo in US society? Is this why guys get wasted to the "i love you man" state?, in order to reaffirm bonds that are taboo in hetro culture?
I will embrace hand holding here. To challenge myself and my intercultural abilities. It is nice to have a challenge, especially something so simple and friendly.

Missing God's Time Auto Repair and Good Fats

While in Ghana I noticed a strong evangelical fervor that spilled into the commercial districts. I could find places like "GODS TIME AUTO REPAIR" and "Praise Him Hair Salon" and "Matthew 2:12 Bakery" but there are no such places I have discovered yet here in Kampala. In fact I am seeing less small store front churches here. Other things I am noticing that are similiar such as the illustrations of products on the walls of small businesses, corrugated tin roofing, advertisements focusing on raising a healthy family. Yea that is one thing that is interesting, it is the same as I remember in Ghana, but the advertisements that focus on health. While health in the US involves mostly stopping the obesity epidemic, the focus here is proper nutrition. One popular advertisement is for blue band which boasts a good mixture of fats and vitamins. Yes they actually boast good fats!