The wall of Zulu

I dont think I have ever lived amidst a more confusing culture than that of the Zulus. I suppose confusing is a bad word. I think its more likely my inability to understand than the inherent complexity of their way of life. There are countless times when I am trying to explain something, trying to make a joke or a reference, and get blank stares in return. It happens with patients, who are often uneducated, but it also occurs when I try to converse with nurses or HIV counsellors. Maybe I am just not as funny as I had previously thought.

I remember feeling the same way with Brent when we were last here. In fact, the immense cultural and language barriers we encountered here were one of the many arguments for us to move our project to Latin America. The language was learnable, the culture more like our own (but still pretty different).

Its a really profound thing to encounter in life. When someone's way of life is so different from yours, you really have no way of understanding where they are coming from. I remember participating in a Zulu ceremony in 2001 that innvolved the slaughter of a goat and a day long ceremony that followed the next day. Once it was over, I was the proud owner of a new goat skin bracelet (it was still a little wet). People kept saying how happy they were for me, especially how happy they were for my family, my mom and dad. I just couldnt understand what they meant, but it was repeated to me often. It was the first time I realized how a little I really understood about the world.

Kylie is finishing the Poisonwood Bible, and I have been reading over her shoulder some of the time. Its about a missionary family who tragically find themselves in the middle of the Belgian Congo right around the time it fell apart. But they touch on this idea often, on how immense cultural barriers can be. It can be difficult to navigate, especially if you hope to work and make a difference in a foreign community.