Changing Perspectives Caused by Nutella

My time in Kenya has been a learning experience, from when my feet touched Kenyan soil to the moments I think I understand the city I live in and then I get humbled yet again with another unknown. Therefore, I have learned a lot of lessons here and have experienced challenging situations. However, sometimes the most simplistic actions can have big consequences. For me, while eating Nutella in the office that was bought for me by friends, I began to think about privilege. These thoughts became a few different rants in my journal and I am now sharing my thoughts here.

So what does Nutella show of my situation here in Kenya? For starters, it shows the money I have and the materialism that is in our culture. I “need” chocolate, which is of course ludicrous to say. It is like an Italian man said to me the other day at a gala for the NGO I am volunteering with, “they aren’t suffering because they don’t have television, Western music and washing machines, but we think they are because they lack this. I ‘suffer’ when I don’t have orange juice in the morning or these fucking cigarettes every day. They aren’t suffering and we should learn from them and their way of life instead of imposing ours”. This shows an experienced development practitioner’s thoughts on a student coming over on a program like this, and indeed all development practitioners. We waste our money while they get by with what they have. I should be learning from them how to consume, to appreciate live without needing sugar and chocolate once a week to brighten myself up.

Secondly, my Nutella shows the individualistic Western culture we find so easy to live. In Kenya, they share while my birthday Nutella shows me that I am apparently more interested in myself than others. It is almost finished and no else has touched it. That wouldn’t happen here, not only because of moderation but also because of their love of visitors, family and friends. They would let people share in their bounty, no matter how sparse it is. I have turned down enough thirds at various friends to know that fact. While I do recognize the fact that I am white, perceived as automatically rich and able to alleviate their suffering and am therefore treated better, the generosity of spirit I find in Kenya’s along with the generosity of limited material wealth comes from a communal outlook on life that many of us in Canada and the West too often overlook. This individualism is often one step away from greed or gluttony and these are pits that Kenyans are certainly not immune to. So why does it seem like they start off a lot farther away from these downfalls then we do in individualistic societies?

Lastly, Nutella reveals to me my love of comfort. If I was given one spoonful, I wouldn’t be as happy as dictating my own amount. And yet from all the people I see everyday and what this extra money would mean to them, how can I justify this gluttony and selfishness? Comfort should be secondary to what it does for others and the reality is that my Nutella binge does nothing for anyone apart from myself and the chocolate fat cats in Switzerland. While I am certainly not going to live a Buddhist live to compensate for this, I will strive to be more aware of where my money goes and to decrease my own needs for personal comforts. After all, we vote every day with our money and I hope to vote for a world where equality is more common place for everybody to access the same comforts that I have. If decreasing my own amounts help, I hope that I can make that decision.

I think a single jar of Nutella has taught me quite a bit about the materialism in Canada and the importance that Kenyans place on community and generosity. The privileges that we have are not necessarily deserved but the important point to me is what you do with those privileges. I hope this realization will help to change my attitude back in Canada, not just in Kenya where there is a constant reminder of the materialism that divides our two worlds. I wish to use the privileges that I have to be more generous with human connections. A study was once done where people were given one hundred dollars and split in two groups. One group spent the money on themselves while the other group was told to spend the money on others and each group’s happiness was measured after the activity. The happiest group was the one that shared their wealth and this is the lesson that I finally hope to learn because of my Nutella-spawned questioning into privilege. The lesson will stick this time but acknowledging the problem is only half the battle. I have a bloody, chocolaty massacre left if I truly intend to change.  

Guilt and the White Man's Burden

         My time in Kenya has gone by in a whirlwind and I have grown used to the fact that Caucasian people are often looked at as walking moneybags, members of a more privileged world. Although the divide between the developed and developing worlds is well known, the distinction between the rich and the middle class in Canada is not understood here. The amount of people asking for help can be overwhelming and even friends that I have made here ask for help, whether a request for a water bottle that they think I can do without or blatant requests for money. Unfortunately, these expectations cannot all be met and this forms part of the mythical ``white man`s burden`` that is felt in the developing world.

          The white man`s burden concerns the colonial past of the countries like Kenya and the horrible treatment their people suffered under the colonial powers of Europe. This colonial past has largely constructed how the world is built today and the types of programs that send privileged, largely white young volunteers to the ``developing`` world to help out, volunteers like me. The white man`s burden is about the guilt that we feel when we see the position that our ancestors put on other people in the world and the feeling that you are somehow responsible for this, along with the image this conveys to others that the white man is powerful and rich. I have been frustrated with this idea since the time I arrived because the guilt has weighed on me. I have been questioning the decisions I make in my everyday life back home and what effect they have on the human faces I see every day here and the millions like them across the world. How do I transform this guilt into something positive?

          My answer to this question that I have been asking for three months is to use the guilt to inspire yourself and others into doing something good for the world. It is like one of the lessons of the book Tuesdays with Morrie: if you don`t believe in the culture, don`t buy into it. Instead, live a life for causes you believe in, family and friends you love and a community you can be a part of. Instead of ideas like this, people often just feel shame for the problems of the world instead of finding ways to solve those problems. The emphasis should be on transforming shame and guilt into helping out in the small ways that make a difference in the world, from volunteering at local soup kitchens to larger issues such as taking part in global movements or purchasing fair trade items. If more people see the importance of these issues and revert from living the culture of consumerism that economically keeps other countries in the world suppressed, positive global changes can occur to lift humans out of poverty.

          Despite this hope, I recognize that fixing global issues such as poverty is much more complex than purchasing fair trade coffee. That is why hope is so important to me, the need to believe that others will understand the message, at all levels of class, influence and power. Personally I am taking responsibility to change how I live when I get back home. I can live more simply and give back more to communities I think will make a local and global difference. This is a minor price to pay when I have seen the circumstances in which people live here, an example being four people sleeping on one mattress.

          A quote I have always liked is courageous people never surrender hope. If I encounter apathy when I get back home, I will hopefully remember the courage of many of the people I have met here in Nairobi and their steadfast dedication to struggle in their lives to give a better life for their kids. I hope to help them.