Hospitality

When you’re out of town on a Sunday and find a church to visit, most people in the West would be content to sit in the back relatively unnoticed, maybe greeting a few people around them and the pastor at the door as they exit after the service. So naturally I was a bit uncomfortable when I visited the Kehemu Evangelical Bible Church in Rundu and one of the church leaders invited me to sit up on the platform next to the pastor and service leaders. Feeling like the whole congregation was staring at me, the pastor leaned over to ask me if I had a message to share with them that morning. I was reminded of Paul, the traveling evangelist, who would visit a new city, find the synagogue and be invited to share a word. But it’s not as if the pastor hasn’t prepared his own sermon for that day, or that he’s somehow intimidated by or inferior to the Western missionary. Rather the invitation is their expression of hospitality.

Hospitality can be one of the most confusing and misunderstood cultural differences mostly because we don’t expect it to be different. We expect everyone to do hospitality in the same way we do it. Our culture is what’s normal to us. But while the value of hospitality is shared, how different cultures express it can be very different.

What anthropologists have called “hot-climate cultures” typically express spontaneous hospitality. Visitors can drop by any time without an appointment or invitation. Guests are invited into the home and share drinks or food if it’s mealtime. The guests are not imposing on their hosts because they simply join in with whatever schedule or activities the host is involved in. If they are visiting from out of town, accommodation is often provided and the host takes care of all the expenses. Hosts typically wouldn’t take guests out to a restaurant because that’s not personal enough. If an invitation is made to go out to eat or for entertainment, it includes the expectation that the inviter will pay the bill. The host is concerned with making the guest feel welcome and comfortable. Likewise in church, the host church wants the visiting pastor to feel welcome and respected, thus giving them a spontaneous opportunity to share.

But “cold-climate cultures” typically express arranged hospitality. Visitors either must be invited, or make an appointment before coming to visit. Visits often take place at a neutral location like a restaurant or coffeeshop. If it is at home, the host has everything prepared in advance so they can give their undivided attention to the guests. If the guests are visiting from out of town, they are expected to arrange for their own accommodation and they themselves are responsible for all expenses. When invitations are made to go out to eat or for entertainment, everyone is expected to pay their own way unless previously stated otherwise. In these cultures, the guest is the one concerned with not inconveniencing or imposing on the host. So both cultures are actually being considerate and thoughtful, it’s just a difference of who is inconveniencing themselves for the other.

It’s easy to imagine how confusion would arise when cultures collide. Perhaps an African family feels that their Western neighbors are cold and unfriendly because they’ve never spontaneously come over for a visit, but all along the Westerners have just been waiting for an invitation. Perhaps the Westerners finally pick up on the spontaneity idea and drop in on their neighbors, but they end up being offended because their African hosts are continuing about their daily activities rather than giving their guests their undivided attention. Perhaps the Westerners invite their African neighbors out to a restaurant, then when the bill comes they ask for separate checks. Hopefully the neighbors brought some money!

So how does one deal with such culture clashes? Simply understanding these cultures differences is the first step. Recognizing the culture of your guests/hosts to set your expectations accordingly is the next. Then finally interacting with grace, love and humility is always essential. Then hopefully we can all learn to be both good guests and good hosts and enjoy the depth provided by cross-cultural friendships.

Spring has Sprung

It's two more weeks yet before it's official, but spring is already busy 'springing' in Namibia. The days are getting hotter and the nights aren't so cold. That chilling bite in the evening air and early mornings has all but disappeared. Shorts are coming out and sweatshirts are being put away. Clocks sprung ahead one hour this past weekend, so the sun is setting later. New blossoms are appearing and the desert plants are sprouting new leaves. Clouds have reappeared in the sky and the other night I even heard the once familiar sound of raindrops on the tin roof. Not a shower by any means, just a few sprinkles. But hopefully a sign of what's to come!

It's About Time

The wedding was starting at 9:00, it was still a 45 minute drive away, and I was suppose to video the bride walking down the aisle so I couldn't be late. I met the others at the carpool meeting place, but some people still hadn't arrived yet so we were waiting. By 8:30, a bit anxious about missing the wedding party entrance, I went ahead and took my passengers and left.

When we arrived at the church at about 9:15 there was one car parked outside the closed gate. We checked the gate...unlocked...slid it open and found a parking spot inside under the shade of a tree. The name on the church was right, so we were in the right place, but the doors were locked and barred and there wasn't a soul in sight.

The rest of the carpool arrived within ten minutes and some people were laughing and muttering about us being on Windhoek time. People passed the time snapping selfies and group photos of everybody dressed up in their wedding best.

At around 10:00 someone came to unlock the church, wedding decorations started arriving, and a few ladies began setting up the chairs and decorations inside the church. By 10:30 the groom and his groomsmen arrived, took a few photos outside, then went inside to help out. The pastor came and started filling out paperwork at the front of the church.

Realizing that we were in no imminent danger of starting, one of our cars made a snack run out to the shops bringing back chips and drinks to share. Another girl in our group knew better, so she had brought a few packs of cards and organized a game in the shade of one of the truck beds.

By 11:30 other guests were arriving and we could hear people practicing the music inside, so we made our way in to find our seats. Slowly the room filled up and they brought out more chairs as people joined in singing along with worship songs and dancing through the aisles.

Around 12:15 the bridal party arrived in their vehicles amid much pomp and circumstance, car horns honking, whistles blowing, ladies doing their typical African "yi-yi-yi-yi-yiiiiii!" Finally, by 12:30 the bride appeared at the back of the church to make her way down the aisle.

So the burning question is...what time did the wedding start? For those from a time-oriented culture (like Windhoek or Western countries) the event started at 12:30, when the bride finally arrived. Those people would have been incredibly anxious and frustrated that the wedding started 3.5 hours "late." Perhaps they were busy thinking about all the productive things they could've been doing with that time or how this will now run into their other scheduled activities.

Meanwhile, for those from an event-oriented culture (like the African village) this is completely normal. They have set aside the whole day for this event. When 9:00 rolls around, it's time to start getting ready. Preparation is part of the event. For those who arrive to the venue early, it's important social time to invest in relationships and the life of the community. Then, once everyone has arrived and everything is ready, the bride can come...but the event has already been going on all morning.

Different understandings of time have caused frustration for many a cross-cultural sojourner. But it's important to recognize that one view is not right and the other wrong, they are just different. Each culture expresses different values. The one is not disrespecting your time. And the other is not rudely rushed or hurried. They're just different.

This is one of many cultural differences that we will be discussing in my Intercultural Studies course at NETS. And one that my experiences in Namibia have provided many real life illustrations for!

Worldview Differences

Imagine you're a Western tourist driving along an African road. On the side of the road you pass by a white cross with perhaps a flowery wreath hanging around it and a large pile of rocks nearby. You may have a passing thought of, "Oh, there must have been an accident here. I wonder who died." But you're busy on your way so you fly past and continue on toward your destination.

Shortly thereafter, a black cow steps out in the middle of the road in front of you. You quickly hit the brakes and swerve to avoid hitting the intruder. Then, a bit annoyed and your heart beating a little faster, you probably think, "Wow, TIA! They should really put some fences along this road to keep the cows away. I could've hit that thing!" Perhaps when you get back home you tell stories of your adventure and the novel antiquity of these African roads where you must beware of livestock wandering out in front of you.

Now reimagine this scenario from a Herero perspective. A traditional Herero man is driving along the road and passes by a white cross with a large pile of rocks nearby. Further down the road a black cow steps out into the road in front of his vehicle. He slams on the brakes and his car squeals to a stop. He thinks, "Wow, that was a close one," and quickly turns the car around. Returning to the white cross, he pulls his car off to the side. He jumps out, finds a nice stone and adds it to the top of the pile, then breaths a sigh of relief and continues on his way.

What just happened?! What happened was a difference in worldview. One of the classes I'm teaching this semester is called "Worldview and Intercultural Studies." I have five different culture groups represented in this class which provides a fascinating collection of cultural perspectives and anecdotes. It also provides me an excellent opportunity to learn about worldview and culture differences here in Namibia. Let's briefly unpack these two very different responses to the same situation.

A common Western worldview has largely separated the natural world from the supernatural world. Perhaps God interacts with this world via natural means and the exceptional miracle, but generally my day to day life exists in the realm of natural processes. The grave on the side of the road is in remembrance of someone who died, but all that's left of them now is bones and dust. The cow stepped into the road because perhaps it saw some nice grass on the other side that it wanted to eat. There's nothing mystical going on here. So I may thank God for giving me the eyesight and awareness to observe and avoid the cow, but largely think nothing of it.

A traditional Herero worldview is generally more animistic. They recognize that we live and exist in the realm of the supernatural. Everything is supernatural. The grave on the side of the road represents a person whose body has died, but whose spirit lives on, very real and present in our world. Driving past this grave at high speed reveals my irreverence and disrespect for the deceased. The cow stepping out into the road is a warning from the spirit of that ancestor that something bad might happen to me. Therefore, I should quickly turn around and place a stone on the grave to show my respect for this ancestor, lest something worse should happen to me.

Same scenario, very different responses, because our cultural behaviors, customs, and practices are an overflow of our worldview. Our worldview is the foundation upon which our beliefs, values, and behaviors are built. It's why we do what we do and think how we think. This is why understanding worldview is so important for cross-cultural ministry and why we have a specific class covering it at NETS. Because you must understand how someone views the world, the ultimate reality of the universe, in order to effectively confront them with the gospel. Whether for the Westerner or the Animist, conversion happens at the worldview level.

Fish River Canyon Hike (part 3)

(Read parts 1 & 2 of this series here and here.)

Day Five

Despite taking shortcuts across land, this was still the longest day of hiking yet. You must pick your poison in the canyon: either large rocks where you must choose your steps carefully, or sand which cuts your traction and fills your shoes. By now the anti-inflammatory meds were helping my knee, and having eaten half my food my pack was much lighter. Because of the long day there was no stop for swimming when the sun got hot, but we did come across our first and only snake of the trip!

A horned adder a bit annoyed by us disturbing his sunbathing

Night five was one I had been looking forward to, but made many of the boys anxious: Solo Night. Each of us was dropped at a place where we couldn't see anyone else and we would spend the night completely alone in the bush. There would be no community meal, no safety in numbers, just us and nature. On the opposite cliffs of the canyon, baboons were howling and the many animal tracks in the sand reminded us we were not alone. Some boys were scared because they'd never spent a night alone in their lives. But my introverted self loved it!

Day Six

The next morning the stories of Solo Night began flooding in. Some guys acted brave and tough. Others admitted to being scared of strange noises. Some had slept through the night, others stayed awake most of the time. One boy even claimed to see a huge, dark fish in the water! I'm not sure how he thought it was going to get to him, but alone in the dark our minds can play tricks on us.

After another long day through much sand, we were pleased to find a nice swimming hole at our sleeping place for the night. We arrived early enough in the afternoon that the cool water was refreshing.

Sharing session around the campfire

This evening it was time for the man talk. We asked the boys what it means to be a real man and they gave some good answers like honesty, integrity and respect. Then we asked how many of them knew a man like that. Only three. Out of all the men these boys knew, only three could be described as real men. Many of the youth in Namibia are raised with absentee fathers, and the other men in their lives are often poor examples, so we were stepping in to help fill part of that gap. We discussed what it means to be a real man, and how real men respect women. We discussed how pornography is devastatingly harmful to them and their futures. Overall, it was well received and all the guys seemed inspired to go and be real men.

Day Seven
At the beginning of the hike, the organizers provided us with all the food we would need for 8 days, including 8 packs of biltong. Biltong is basically dried meat, a favorite snack of almost every Namibian I know. But it's not something I'm particularly fond of, so instead of using it as food, I planned to use my 8 packs as currency. After carrying a heavy pack for the past six days, I promised a pack of biltong each to three guys who would carry my sleeping bag, tarp and mat, gas stove, pot, and first aid kit. With my pack only half-full, this day's hike was so much more enjoyable!

We arrived at our final sleeping place in the bush by mid-afternoon and had another nice swim, including some rock jumping. We cooked our final bush meal and had our final campfire. This night we started turning our thoughts toward home. When you get back, what challenges will you face in keeping your commitments? We also talked about identity in Christ and the gospel. Our desire is for all of them to find their identity in Christ rather than the things they've been identifying with up to now.

Day Eight
Having given away 3 packs of biltong for carrying my things yesterday, I still had 5 packs left. So on our last day of hiking, I got five boys to carry almost everything for me. Basically, all I carried in my own pack was my food and water for the day. An ingenious plan if I do say so myself!

That morning we followed a steep 4x4 trail up to the rim of the canyon. A viewpoint from the top was the last place where we would see the river. We took a moment of silence, then each chose a stone that represented all the things we wanted to leave in the canyon. We then turned our backs to the edge and hurled all those things over the cliff behind us, that way we couldn't see where it landed so there was no hope of finding the stone and bringing those things back with us.

Final view of the canyon

The first sign of base camp was a welcome sight. Some of the boys wanted to run ahead, but we held them back so we would all arrive together. It was nice to know I could sit down and I wouldn't have to walk anywhere else. That was almost more welcome than a shower and a real mattress! That night we celebrated our accomplishment with a braai of meat, boerewors, and rooster brood (roasted bread). The leader even handed out printed certificates and gave each of the boys a youth Bible and a t-shirt.

As we dropped the boys off back at their school, we reminded them that the hike in itself was not magical or life-changing. We only helped them better understand themselves and their decisions. For these boys, the challenge wasn't ending, it was only beginning. The true challenge will be taking what they've learned and going back home.

The Fish River Canyon 2017 team

Fish River Canyon Hike (part 2)

(Read part 1 of this post series here.)

Day Two

View from my sleeping bag as I awoke

Sleeping on the hard-packed sand is not as soft as one might think. I found myself waking frequently through my first night sleeping in the canyon. The morning came early as I watch the stars and the dark sky slowly fade into the dawning light, the few clouds brightly reflecting the rising sun. The others slowly started stirring, preparing their breakfast and re-packing their packs. Then we all gathered for a short morning devotional and to check in before setting off on our day's hike.

The hike along the river was gorgeous with steep canyon walls rising on either side. Once the sun got high and hot we stopped to give the boys a team building task. One facilitator placed a gas stove on the other side of the river. The boys, many of whom could not swim, were to cross the river with matches, a mug, and a tea bag and bring back a hot cup of tea for another facilitator. At first, the two who could swim awkwardly swam the materials across holding them above the water. They started boiling the water as the others attempted to find a way across. Slowly, the bravest ones first, they discovered a path of underwater rocks that were spaced close enough to "leap" from one to the next. Together the more confident ones helped the others find their way to the next rock. Some were literally scared for their lives holding empty two-liter soda bottles under their arms to help stay afloat, but eventually all eight made it across.

Returning the hot tea across the river

With a hot cup of tea in hand, they attempted the same route back. They made a chain from rock to rock where they could pass the tea along. But they got to a point where the chain was too far apart and the boys couldn't reach. As the one lunged out with the hot tea in hand, the mug slipped underwater emptying the tea into the river.

Unsuccessful in their task, the majority determined to evacuate the freezing cold water. Six of them made it back to warm themselves on the sun-heated rocks on the other side leaving two non-swimmers stuck in the middle of the river fearing for their lives. The two begged for help as the others just laughed and called back, "Help yourselves!" They were more concerned about being warm than they were with the safety of the whole team. Eventually they were all forced to return to the river to help their stranded teammates until every last one was across. Needless to say, the evident selfishness provided a fruitful debriefing discussion.

Two team members stranded in the middle of the river

Day Three

The third day was not a long hike, but it was strenuous climbing through large boulders that had avalanched off the canyon walls. I managed to twist my knee which remained swollen for the next few days. But thanks to the short walk, we stopped for another learning session regarding a tree. The boys were asked to spend a moment of silence observing a particular tree growing out of the rock. They noted that it was persistent in growing despite the dry, rocky environment. It now provided shade for animals and a home for birds. We also observed that it didn't choose where it was planted, but simply grew where the seed fell. Similarly, these boys didn't choose the circumstances in which they were born or grew up. It was now up to them to decide whether to call it quits, or to be persistent and grow into someone who thrives and contributes to their ecosystem.

Beautiful scenery as we hiked through the canyon

That evening during our sharing session we asked them to draw their lives as a tree. What kind of tree would they be? How big are their roots, branches, trunk? Do they provide shade or homes for animals? Then they shared how their trees represented their lives. It was a good exercise to get them thinking about their own lives.

Day Four

On day four we awoke and spent the first half of our morning in silence. We ate breakfast in silence and hiked along without speaking. Mid-morning we stopped to debrief the experience. At home, most of the boys never experience silence. Their daily lives are filled with noisy people, loud music, and distractions. We asked what they could hear when they stopped to listen. The wind. The birds. Their breathing and heartbeat. By stopping speaking it allowed them to listen. To listen to the sounds of nature and their own deeper thoughts. Many of them expressed the desire to spend time in silence in the future.

Later that day we found a nice pool to stop and swim. One of the boys, probably thanks to our previous water activity, asked me to teach him how to swim to which I gladly obliged. With his newfound courage, he even jumped off one of the high rocks with the other two swimmers!

That evening at our sleeping place was another nice pool with lots of fish. The boys found a tricky way to catch them, luring them into a shallow inlet with chips they would then close off the entrance with their wash bucket. Fresh fish for dinner tonight!

That night in our sharing session we asked them to draw pictures of the monsters in their lives. By now they were open enough to share honestly about the things they wanted to change in their lives. While these sessions could raise deep issues to the surface, it will be up to them when they get home to actually make that change.

(Read part 3 of this post series here.)

Fish River Canyon Hike (part 1)

(click on any photo to enlarge)

“On my way.” The text came in at 5:37am. I had packed all my minimalist supplies into one large pack last night so I could salvage every moment of sleep this early morning. The red sun only peeked over the distant mountains on the horizon as we were already halfway to Rehoboth. We were on our way to pick up eight 11th grade boys from Rehoboth High School who for the next 8 days would participate in a Wilderness Therapy Hike through the Fish River Canyon.

The program was started by a high school psychologist who realized that boys were virtually impossible to reach while sitting across a desk in a counseling session. So she decided to combine two of her loves, hiking and counseling. Five times a year she and three other facilitators take 8 high school students out into the wilderness where they are guided through experiential learning and various therapy activities. Standing in the lobby of Rehoboth High School, I met our 8 travelling companions for the first time. They looked young and unsure whether to be excited or nervous.

The drive to our base camp near the canyon took about five hours, with only one minor hangup getting stuck in the sand. We quickly unloaded all our camping gear and the boys began filling their packs. By the time we finished our introductory talk setting up their expectations the sun had set and it was time to start the fire for our evening braai.

Each evening after dinner we would all gather together for sharing sessions. This first night we began simply rating the day and asking a few basic questions to get them used to sharing with the group. Then we turned in and had our last sleep on a mattress for the next week.

Day One

The morning started at the literal crack of dawn, as soon as the horizon started to get light. After breakfast we drove about an hour from the base camp to the trail head where we were dropped off and would hike our way back. The view from the canyon rim was stunning. The largest canyon in Africa, it stretches about 100 miles long and up to 17mi wide and 342mi deep in places.

View from the rim of the Fish River Canyon

The initial descent into the ravine was a steep switchback trail virtually straight down the canyon wall. The descent continued 1.2mi and finally opened up to a gorgeous sandy beach on the river where we stopped for lunch. Being winter, the water was relatively low, and at times seemed like long intermittent pools rather than a flowing river. Though it did get deep enough for swimming and cliff jumping in a number of places.

The river was a welcome sight after a hot descent.

Cliff jumping into the Fish River

The day’s hike was relatively short and we arrived at our sleeping place by midafternoon. We brought no tents so everyone looked around for a suitable place to unroll their mat and sleeping bag. Some preferred flat rocks, others sand. We all dispersed to find a private place for a bucket bath with water from the river.  For dinner, we were divided into 3 cooking groups. Our meals were mostly rice or pasta with dried vegetables and canned meat. One of the other facilitators was quite experienced, so he did all the cooking and I just helped with the dishes.

As per usual, after dinner we gathered for our evening sharing session and devotions before heading to bed to fall asleep under the stars. Up to now everything was new and exciting, the hiking, the scenery, getting to know the boys, so I didn’t even mind sleeping on the hardly packed sand or the thought of hoisting my pack back on my shoulders the next morning. However that would not always be the case….

(Read parts 2 & 3 of this post series here and here.)