I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again,
We keep the wall between us as we go.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
-Mending Wall, Robert Frost
Forgive me if this post may seem a bit cynical and harsh but I wanted to share an observation that I have come across and have been puzzled by.
I have been reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and reading of the accounts of apartheid and white “superiority” and that left me thinking: who are we to judge and compare those we do not know? How can we come to a place and be in it but not of it? We appear as ghosts and not lifelike to the communities we come to inhabit. It fascinates me that one could come to a place like Africa, a new culture but yet be miles away because of the walls built. There is a failure in some instances to connect and integrate with that culture. I do see a more globalized world, but in some cases, I simply see people relocating and brining their walls with them. Why the isolation? I cannot fathom how some can claim to help people that they do not even know, do not even connect with, do not even try to interact with. The many I have met that have established a deep sense of connection to the people of Africa hold the true success, for they have gained a better understanding and world-view because they have decided to remove the walls.
Taking the first step to know one’s neighbors, or my case, the people of Africa, is the first step toward working together to end poverty, fight disease, and develop. To not gain that understanding is to work against these ideals. If I could do it all over again, I would learn the language, as that has become an invisible wall for me. I have written many times about my attempts to speak Chichewa with others but I find that language is not simply a means to relay messages, but it is a connector as well. And my attempts to cook nsima and learn the traditional dances are gestures of removing the bricks from my wall. They may seem tiny gestures, but they go a long way. And I say good fences make no neighbors at all.
Before I built a wall, I’d ask to know,
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again,
We keep the wall between us as we go.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
-Mending Wall, Robert Frost
Forgive me if this post may seem a bit cynical and harsh but I wanted to share an observation that I have come across and have been puzzled by.
I have been reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and reading of the accounts of apartheid and white “superiority” and that left me thinking: who are we to judge and compare those we do not know? How can we come to a place and be in it but not of it? We appear as ghosts and not lifelike to the communities we come to inhabit. It fascinates me that one could come to a place like Africa, a new culture but yet be miles away because of the walls built. There is a failure in some instances to connect and integrate with that culture. I do see a more globalized world, but in some cases, I simply see people relocating and brining their walls with them. Why the isolation? I cannot fathom how some can claim to help people that they do not even know, do not even connect with, do not even try to interact with. The many I have met that have established a deep sense of connection to the people of Africa hold the true success, for they have gained a better understanding and world-view because they have decided to remove the walls.
Taking the first step to know one’s neighbors, or my case, the people of Africa, is the first step toward working together to end poverty, fight disease, and develop. To not gain that understanding is to work against these ideals. If I could do it all over again, I would learn the language, as that has become an invisible wall for me. I have written many times about my attempts to speak Chichewa with others but I find that language is not simply a means to relay messages, but it is a connector as well. And my attempts to cook nsima and learn the traditional dances are gestures of removing the bricks from my wall. They may seem tiny gestures, but they go a long way. And I say good fences make no neighbors at all.
Before I built a wall, I’d ask to know,
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Some of the walls in the area:
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