I know people who walk up and down the road with 100 pounds of water on their heads every day just to cook food, and I’ve never once heard them complain. They don’t get to the end of the road, throw their arms in the air and exclaim “That was SUCH bullshit! I’m never doing THAT again!!” And yet I come from a country where people completely lose their shit if the latte they ordered isn’t in their hands quickly enough. It’s strange to be here knowing what a bunch of assholes we are back home, myself included.
The people that I meet in the developing world have a strong sense of family and community. They know everybody in their town, and the town after that, and they all help one another. No matter how little they have, they always offer to share it with me. It is humbling.
I feel ashamed when I think about my life back home because where I come from, it is common not to know our next-door neighbors in San Francisco. The guy whose front door is a just few inches away from mine has not said hello to me in well over a decade, even though we cross paths regularly. It is incredibly uncomfortable. And while it is not from a lack of trying on my end, I eventually stopped making the effort and decided to ignore him, too. I don’t even make eye contact with most people. I’m good friends with only one set of my neighbors, who have adopted me as a member of their family, and given me a key to their home. But the only reason I met them is that there was a power outage in our neighborhood one night and we got to chatting, otherwise, we wouldn’t know each other either.
Another thing I’m embarrassed about is how much stuff we all have in the U.S.. People in rural Africa often have just two or three sets of clothes and a single pair of shoes, but take exceptional care of their possessions, always keeping them clean and tidy.
The clothing they wear are all things nobody back home wanted. Clothing given to charities that don’t get sold in the second-hand market gets sold by the ton to the developing world in a third-hand transaction. Used garments can be bought almost everywhere in Ghana, and are referred to in the local language as “Dead White People Clothes.” It is presumed that the original owner of the clothing has died, because, after all, why else would somebody part with such perfectly good things?
As you might imagine, when I cruise into town with my 4 pairs of cargo pants, 2 skirts, and 8 shirts & tank tops, I’m a high roller. One woman who manages my apartment in Accra loves my shoes. They are black faux leather sandals with a silver buckle, tan stitching, and a wedge heel. “They are my size,” she claims, even though I’m a size 5 ½ and I estimate her to be size one million. “I like your shoes,” she finally announces. “Give them to me.”
I explained to my apartment manager that if I gave her my shoes, I’d have none to wear for my travels ahead. She assures me that I won’t miss them, and inquires how many pairs of shoes I have at home. I don’t tell her, but I know there are 36 slots in my shoe cubby, not including boots, and they’re all full. Now, whenever we speak, I notice that she no longer looks me in the eye. She will only look me in the shoe.
As difficult as it is, it is my policy not to give gifts or money to the people that I meet in the developing world, and I’ll tell you why. While I desperately want to, and it feels good to be generous to others, I have come to understand that my giving things to people can cause a ripple effect of consequences after I leave, and it will ultimately be my fault.
A fellow traveler told me a story once. He was teaching English in India and held a spelling contest for the children. The grand prize was a pen that lit up when you wrote with it, which he received for free at a trade show, and it had no value to him whatsoever. But to everyone else, it was the most magical thing they had ever laid eyes on. Each child wanted so badly to win the coveted prize. Only one did win, which created a terrible sense of disappointment in the other pupils. But even worse? The teacher ended up stealing the pen from the student.
I recognize that it’s common to have things in your suitcase at the end of a trip that you no longer need and probably don’t even want. In addition to lightening your load for the trip home, you imagine you’re doing something positive by gifting somebody a few of your items. Perhaps it’s an extra t-shirt, some cosmetics, or a travel sewing kit and some random gear.
But when that person shows up in their community with their loot, other people are going to be pissed. They might feel jealous that they did not receive something. People’s self-esteem may even take a blow, as they begin to question if they are not good enough or pretty enough to be given such gifts. Additionally, it creates a dependence on outsiders, and others may begin to plot: what can I do differently the next time I encounter a visitor to ensure that I am the one who receives a gift? This is not to say that you shouldn’t give to those in need. You absolutely should. But I believe it's important to make sure any gifts you give are done so responsibly and benefit the entire community rather than just one person so that it doesn’t create any problems. My friend Mark in San Francisco recently wired $100 to me and asked me to do something nice for someone here in Ghana. I bought a mobile phone, and I presented it to the chief of a farming community for everyone in the village to use.
On this trip, after much consideration, I have decided that instead of giving people things, I will give them the photos I have taken of them. Many people in rural Africa don’t have pictures of themselves, as it is expensive to have a print made in this part of the world. And so, I have made a point to go around and take photos of (or with) all of the people I have come to know during my stay in the region, including the people who work at my hotel, the security guards who keep me safe, and the random people and shopkeepers I’ve met. There are many. I have promised to have a print made for them when I am in Accra and return with it when I am here again later this month. This way, they will have a beautiful photo of themselves that I have taken, and others can enjoy it, too. And when I see that same photo once I’ve returned home, I will think of them, too. That way, we’ll be able to share our memories.
I have just wrapped up my micro-credit volunteer project and am in the process of analyzing my data and writing a report. I can’t tell you how much I have enjoyed going into the communities, and I felt a genuine connection with those I had the pleasure of meeting.
Now, I will take a much-needed break, and I plan to travel to the Cape Coast for some relaxation and possibly the neighboring country of Togo so that I can see another country. Afterward, I shall return to Ho in the Volta region, as I’ve been given another project here. Then it is back to Accra to say my goodbyes and head home to San Francisco in another month. And I’m taking my shoes with me.