I’ve always enjoyed and been stimulated by Charles Ringma’s perspective on Christian life and ministry, ever since first met him at Manila Theological Seminary on a short term mission trip back in 1995. He’s written a number of great Bible study guides themed around the reflections of such great modern Christian thinkers as Dietrich Boenhoeffer and Henri Nouwen.
Partly as a way of journaling my thoughts as we enter our second year in Rwanda (especially given I somewhat lack people I can debrief to at the moment) and partly for any of you who may be interested, I decided I’d use some of his reflections in “Finding Naasicaa”, a book of letters to his teenage granddaughter, as a jumping off point for my own thoughts. I’d recommend the book if you haven’t read it; but it’s not really necessary to following this post as I’ll try to include an indicative quote before transitioning into my own reflections. I may make this into a series depending on how it goes; we’ll see.
Letter 2: The World Without and Within
“The world, and here I mean both the natural and social world…, is not simply a world that lies outside of us. Of course it is out there, but it is also within us in the sense that we are shaped by its institutions and values through the process of socialization.”
One part of coming to a new country and culture is that you enter a new world.
The natural world is different: Rwanda is milder (15-25 degrees year-round), higher (1750m above sea-level – enough to make you breathless walking at first) and far more densely populated than Australia.
The social world is more different: people speak Kinyarwanda, and sometimes French, with English a third choice; they mostly live in villages and small towns and subsistence farming is still common, they have a close personal knowledge of the depths of human depravity from the Genocide 18 years ago. Older people can remember when there were no cars, no roads, no white people, no schools; only small communities of farmers connected by footpaths, a king and a language.
But, profoundly for me, as I meet these different natural and social worlds, my inner world is being changed too. The challenge of the Rwanda’s thin air has made me take up running regularly for the first time. Rwandans’ approach to life makes me reassess what I once believed was obvious. Their resilience and adaptability in the face of such extreme change has changed how i think about humanity and ‘progress’. Their desire for relationship, both with each other and with God, has penetrated my introversion, at the same time as the wearinesses of cultural adjustment and constant teaching has strengthened it.
As I have begun to be socialized by Rwanda, my inner world has changed irreparably.
”I see the world of nature as a most wonderful gift from the Creator. It is a gift that sustains us and the billions of others who inhabit this planet.”
Rwanda is still an agricultural society. The rhythms of life, the food in the market, the difficulties of our house workers and their families, the number of patients in the hospital ward and their ability to pay for treatment; all are still largely based around the seasons for planting and harvesting (two “wet” and two “dry”). Rwanda is like a huge market garden. The hills are covered with a patchwork of small farms, all tended by hand, by people whose very survival depends on this work. There is no unemployment benefits, little social security and few safety nets: the world of nature directly sustains these people.
Now of course, in Australia people are just as dependent on the world of nature; it’s just the connections are not as obvious. In Australia, I saw nature as something to be experienced in bushwalks, beach trips and camping holidays; a source of spiritual refreshment and a mark of the Creator. In Rwanda our absolute need for rain, which no-one save God can bring, is much clearer. This week the rains arrived after two bone dry months; suddenly everyone is digging in their gardens. God’s gift is not merely a pretty clue to his existence, it’s also our very lifeblood.
Along with that, generally I see a much more sustainable lifestyle all around me. Rwanda has banned plastic bags because they are an eyesore, a huge waste of a non-renewable resource and there are good alternatives (paper and hessian). The roadsides and lawns are immaculate, and sometimes you come across little flower beds interspersed within the crops. The country is far less reliant on imported goods and petroleum than is Australia. True, people are poorer and live harder, generally shorter lives: but their natural world seems to be more seen as a gift, and less as an exploitable resource (although this may be changing as development grows apace).
“The social world often appears as a rock solid given. The language we speak, the way we structure family, the institutions we create, the way we produce things and do business and the political realities that govern our world all seem so permanent…In fact the opposite is the case.”
I can’t think of a better way to appreciate this truth than to immerse oneself in a radically different culture for a time. Ringma goes on to make the point that because change is so rapid, uncertainty is the inevitable result.
In a very real way, I’ve experienced this uncertainty standing at the end of a bed, while seeing patients in the medical ward at the hospital here. I have sixteen years of medical training and experience in an Australian context, and I’m sued in this context to recognising the pattern and knowing what to do next. In Rwanda, I am never certain, which is very tiring, especially as these consequential decisions must still be made. The patterns of disease are different, the ways of confirming my thoughts are less, and then the management of the patient is enormously influenced by their social and financial circumstances, the availability or non-availability of various treatments, and the cost-benefit for this particular individual and their family. Don’t even get me started on cultural beliefs about health…
The only certainty is uncertainty.
“Contemporary Western values promote individualism, consumerism and self-preoccupation. We are taught to struggle by ourselves when the very nature of social life has to do with community and participation. ”
Maybe my very approach to life in Rwanda in this blog reflects my individualism and self-preoccupation. Maybe I should be writing about how the community of the hospital has changed since I arrived, how I have contributed to its function and dysfunction. Maybe my whole reference frame is wrong.
What is certain is that, under stress, I revert to type. The number of days I have returned from the hospital and sought solace, not in my God or a debrief with my wife, but in TV, games and food, is innumerable. Often I am tired, sometimes I am overwrought, often I am just following my learned (mis)behaviours. But rarely does it help.
Of course, a challenge with moving to a strange and novel country is that there is no belonging to a community when one arrives. This takes time to establish, and much more time to be fruitful. I am challenged to persist in seeking genuine community and disavowing my individualist and self-preoccupied self.
“We cannot only think critically about our world; we also need to get our hands dirty. In other words, our critique and concern must lead to costly engagement.”
“Not only is this easier said than done, but we are no longer so sure in what direction we need to work for change.”
These two quotes sum up for me the challenges facing us as a family in Rwanda at the moment. We need to continue to find new ways to engage in costly discipleship in the world around us; at the same time, often we have no idea where to start, which idea to pursue, or whether the time is right. The desire to engage on any number of worthwhile projects is ever-present; the question is which of these represent God’s will for us, the best stewardship of our time and resources, and how much cost we should bear (personally, financially, time-wise and as a family) to bring them to completion. We need God’s wisdom and His guidance more than ever at this time.
I’d like to finish with a final quote from Ringma. More as a self-reminder than anything else:
“The inner world requires a lot of care. It cannot be neglected. We cannot focus only on outward activity and forget about our inner person. We cannot be concerned only about building our cities and our economy [or our mission work!] and leave the heart unattended. If we do so, we will not only become lopsided, but we will begin to suffer.”
I’m off to bed as the mosquitoes are biting.
