I'm sure I've mentioned before how relational it is here in Tanzania. Greetings are very important, and it is essential to greet everyone you meet, even the clerks at the store. There are no anonymous transactions here.
Sometimes I find this very wearying if I'm tired, in a bad mood, just want to get my milk and bread and get out of the store ASAP. But I usually force myself to smile and interact, even briefly and I know in my heart that it is how we should treat others. I've always tried to treat people - even the most humble of service workers - as people, but in my desire for efficiency or in my distractedness, I'm sure that some of my U.S. encounters still made them feel like objects. Here, it's really not possible to do this, and that's a very good thing.
This week I had 3 memorable encounters with Tanzanians in our community.
On Monday, Charlotte, Josh and I visited our local clinic as none of us were feeling well. Although the doctor was pretty sure it wasn't malaria or typhoid, it's usually just routine practice to get your blood drawn every time you go, "just in case." As he was taking our blood, our phlebotomist was chatting with us, half in English and half in Swahili. He mentioned that his name was Zakayo - "like the man in the Bible who climbed the tree." Ah...Zaccheus!! I then asked him if he knew the song about Zaccheus. He didn't, and so the 3 of us busted out into "Zaccheus Was a Wee Little Man" right there, several times, as he tried to sing along. He loved it, had me write down the words, and got my phone number so we could stay in touch, saying, "Don't just wait until you're sick - visit me here anytime!" (He's now sending me WhatsApp messages with things like, "All glory belongs to our Almighty Lord Jesus Christ!") Added bonus: it wasn't malaria or typhoid for any of us.
Yesterday I went to the Total gas station at the bottom of our hill which has a little mini mart with basic supplies. As I was standing at the counter buying luku (electricity), the manager showed me a photo, telling me that one of their employees had just died and they were collecting money for msiba (funeral). Although I never had a close relationship with this woman, I definitely recognized her and had most certainly greeted her. She had to be less than 25 years old. Cause of death? "She was sick in her stomach and chest." I gave the equivalent of about $6 and signed my name, noting that there were already 3 pages of signatures and donations, which really touched me. I hope it touches her family, too. The death of an otherwise healthy person in their 20's from sickness is shocking news in the U.S. Here, sadly, it seems to be fairly common. Most maddening to my Western sensibilities, it seems like you never really know the true cause. Most certainly, it was preventable.
Finally, I stopped at my favorite fruit stand for some bananas. I've been going there since we arrived in Tanzania, because although they are more expensive than other places, their bananas are by far the best. When my mom visited in December, I took her there to buy fruit with me and one of the young Muslim fruit sellers was absolutely taken with her. He gave her a gift of bananas on the spot and has been asking about her in Swahili ever since ("Is she well?" "Is it cold in America?" "Does it snow there?") He's also generously given me gifts of extra bananas "for the kids" every time since then. I still don't know why my mom was such a hit with him - she definitely didn't say anything to him because she doesn't know Swahili - but thanks, Mom! You've got a lifelong friend here in Dar.
These three encounters are pretty typical of life here, yet I can't imagine even one of them in the context of suburban NJ. Although some days I long for anonymity, other days I gratefully appreciate the simple beauty of relational living.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Cold enough for ya?!
I think that weather differences between TZ and the US are probably the single most disconnecting experience for me....seeing Facebook pictures of people frolicking in the leaves there (while it's still hot here), then playing in the snow there (while it's even hotter here) and then seeing the joy of winter move into spring there (while it's still hot here although slightly less so). As opposed to there, the seasonal difference here between hot and less hot seasons is not all that much - maybe 30 degrees Fahrenheit, a few percentage points of humidity. The landscape doesn't change all that much from season to season. Although different flowers bloom at different times, there's always something blooming. And although the grass gets pretty burned up in dry season, it's certainly nothing like the absolute absence of living foliage in winter in the U.S.
This week in particular highlights this difference between our two worlds. On the East Coast, it is brutally cold and yet here the weather is causing me to melt into a puddle. A friend and I calculated that one day last week, her wind chill factor of -25 F and our heat index factor which neared 120 F meant that our weather was separated by over 140 degrees! That's really hard to wrap my brain around. As another friend said, "Are we on the same planet?" Pretty amazing.
I think that memories of extreme weather must be kept in the same place of my brain that also stores memories of childbirth pain. It's as though every year, I have a new realization of how (hot/cold/rainy) it is as I've completely forgotten about the past years and what they were like.
Because of this seasonal amnesia, I literally cannot imagine being as cold as my U.S. friends. I've totally forgotten what it means to scrape your car, catch snowflakes on your tongue, layer up, have melting snow puddles by the door, have your lungs hurt when breathing the outside air and all the side inconveniences of the season (dry skin, chapped lips, running noses) that comes at this time. In the same way, I doubt whether they can imagine how intense the equatorial sun feels as it beats down for weeks on end, the fact that your shirt sticks to you already by 9 a.m., the humidity blanketing everything, etc.
Everybody talks about the weather (although everyone complains about how lame that is). It's definitely a socializing topic as probably no one will be offended by a shared dislike of windchill. It's just this communal bond that I'm missing these days with my U.S. friends as I'm definitely not missing the actual offending weather (although a nice 60 degree day would be heavenly right about now). I joked to Tim that we haven't even experienced the temperature that we used to heat the inside of our home in the winter, for almost 2 years. Brrrr!
Stay warm, U.S. friends!
Keep cool, Dar friends!
This week in particular highlights this difference between our two worlds. On the East Coast, it is brutally cold and yet here the weather is causing me to melt into a puddle. A friend and I calculated that one day last week, her wind chill factor of -25 F and our heat index factor which neared 120 F meant that our weather was separated by over 140 degrees! That's really hard to wrap my brain around. As another friend said, "Are we on the same planet?" Pretty amazing.
I think that memories of extreme weather must be kept in the same place of my brain that also stores memories of childbirth pain. It's as though every year, I have a new realization of how (hot/cold/rainy) it is as I've completely forgotten about the past years and what they were like.
Because of this seasonal amnesia, I literally cannot imagine being as cold as my U.S. friends. I've totally forgotten what it means to scrape your car, catch snowflakes on your tongue, layer up, have melting snow puddles by the door, have your lungs hurt when breathing the outside air and all the side inconveniences of the season (dry skin, chapped lips, running noses) that comes at this time. In the same way, I doubt whether they can imagine how intense the equatorial sun feels as it beats down for weeks on end, the fact that your shirt sticks to you already by 9 a.m., the humidity blanketing everything, etc.
Everybody talks about the weather (although everyone complains about how lame that is). It's definitely a socializing topic as probably no one will be offended by a shared dislike of windchill. It's just this communal bond that I'm missing these days with my U.S. friends as I'm definitely not missing the actual offending weather (although a nice 60 degree day would be heavenly right about now). I joked to Tim that we haven't even experienced the temperature that we used to heat the inside of our home in the winter, for almost 2 years. Brrrr!
Stay warm, U.S. friends!
Keep cool, Dar friends!
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Scenes from the road in Dar
Yesterday, we had off for midterm break and so my kids asked for playdates. Like our old school, HOPAC draws students from a great distance all around the city, and so sometimes these requests involve quite a bit of effort. Although Charlotte's friend lives within a 2 minute walk of our house, Josh's friend lives around 20 minutes away (without traffic, which is never a guarantee here!)
Thankfully, I made good time, I wasn't stopped by police, and the car didn't stall. Although it was a hot day, there was cloud cover and so I was only sweating a medium amount in our car without working AC.
As I was driving him to and from his friend's house, I was reflecting on all the unique things that I saw outside my window, trying to see them through new eyes:
* A goat drinking from a drainage ditch
* A group of about 10 men, walking purposefully against traffic, carrying tire irons and machetes (thankful for no stopped traffic at that point!)
* A police checkpoint where all the police were sleeping under a tree in the shade (as I said, it was a hot day)
* The Million Hairs hair salon
* A dump truck without a safety gate, leaking dirt and small chunks of rock as it drove. Disturbingly, the back was painted, "Born to Kill" along with pictures of Che Guevara (he is really popular here for some reason) and a Muslim fundamentalist (possibly Osama bin Laden). I kept a little distance from the back of the truck, as I didn't want it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
* A bus painted with the words Obama Trans. There's also another bus painted as Air Force One (which I always thought was an airplane...)
* Street cleaners - which here mean actual women brushing dirt from the streets with large brooms in the hot sun, with only a couple of flimsy traffic cones to shield them from speeding cars.
* A variety of roadside vendors including the watermelon guys who have a huge pile of melons with one cut on the top to show what the insides look like. As with many things here, there are about 4 vendors of the same thing in a row, as opposed to the diversification strategy found in the West.
* A cow grazing in a field of garbage.
* Women in brightly-colored kangas carrying unbelievable loads on their heads.
And then there are the smells:
* The roadside area that sells manure in small bags.
* The unique scent, possibly of sewage, that permeates the road called Africana.
* Thick black smoke emanating from a truck in front of me (there are no emissions laws here).
* Burning trash in piles along the road
The sounds:
* Trucks blaring music combined with religious propaganda (these are in Swahili, so I'm never fully aware of what they're saying...I hear "God" "Satan" and "hell" for sure.)
* The unique sounds of African street music (to get an idea, listen to Paul Simon's album Graceland)
* Bleating of goats as they scramble up the hillside alongside the road.
* The call to prayer as I passed a mosque.
I thought about how different this drive is compared to a 20 minute drive in the U.S. Way more stressful in a sensory-overload kind of way, yet also so many more interesting things to observe. Although I'm trying to enjoy the moment and embrace the culture, there are definitely some days where I'm nostalgic for the bland efficiency of Route 287.
Thankfully, I made good time, I wasn't stopped by police, and the car didn't stall. Although it was a hot day, there was cloud cover and so I was only sweating a medium amount in our car without working AC.
As I was driving him to and from his friend's house, I was reflecting on all the unique things that I saw outside my window, trying to see them through new eyes:
* A goat drinking from a drainage ditch
* A group of about 10 men, walking purposefully against traffic, carrying tire irons and machetes (thankful for no stopped traffic at that point!)
* A police checkpoint where all the police were sleeping under a tree in the shade (as I said, it was a hot day)
* The Million Hairs hair salon
* A dump truck without a safety gate, leaking dirt and small chunks of rock as it drove. Disturbingly, the back was painted, "Born to Kill" along with pictures of Che Guevara (he is really popular here for some reason) and a Muslim fundamentalist (possibly Osama bin Laden). I kept a little distance from the back of the truck, as I didn't want it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
* A bus painted with the words Obama Trans. There's also another bus painted as Air Force One (which I always thought was an airplane...)
* Street cleaners - which here mean actual women brushing dirt from the streets with large brooms in the hot sun, with only a couple of flimsy traffic cones to shield them from speeding cars.
* A variety of roadside vendors including the watermelon guys who have a huge pile of melons with one cut on the top to show what the insides look like. As with many things here, there are about 4 vendors of the same thing in a row, as opposed to the diversification strategy found in the West.
* A cow grazing in a field of garbage.
* Women in brightly-colored kangas carrying unbelievable loads on their heads.
And then there are the smells:
* The roadside area that sells manure in small bags.
* The unique scent, possibly of sewage, that permeates the road called Africana.
* Thick black smoke emanating from a truck in front of me (there are no emissions laws here).
* Burning trash in piles along the road
The sounds:
* Trucks blaring music combined with religious propaganda (these are in Swahili, so I'm never fully aware of what they're saying...I hear "God" "Satan" and "hell" for sure.)
* The unique sounds of African street music (to get an idea, listen to Paul Simon's album Graceland)
* Bleating of goats as they scramble up the hillside alongside the road.
* The call to prayer as I passed a mosque.
I thought about how different this drive is compared to a 20 minute drive in the U.S. Way more stressful in a sensory-overload kind of way, yet also so many more interesting things to observe. Although I'm trying to enjoy the moment and embrace the culture, there are definitely some days where I'm nostalgic for the bland efficiency of Route 287.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Water
For the last month or so, Dawasco, the public water utility in Tanzania, has been experiencing significant outages. The stated reason is that they need to make repairs on their system so a major pipeline has to be shut down.
Communication of the outages has been sporadic and generally transmitted by word of mouth. Sometimes, we'll get advance notice of the outages and can make sure our backup tanks are filled. Sometimes, we won't. Other times, they will say that the water will be off for 2 days and it's off for over a week. We've just come off a (largely unscheduled) 13 day outage for some parts of the city and this past weekend, Dawasco issued a statement that water will be off for another 2 weeks (which is disturbing if they are saying 2 weeks up front...how long will it actually be?!!)
Whenever this happens, 2 million+ people in the city of Dar es Salaam are without a reliable water supply. When Dawasco is cut, the options are to buy water at the store or to have a water truck come to fill up your backup tanks (The cost for the truck is around $50 for about 1300 gallons of water and like any good believer in supply-side economics, water truck companies ensure that this cost can go up during shortage times). Even Dawasco water here is significantly more costly than our water bills in NJ. (around $25 a month for an average family).
Once the water is cut, people try to go into conservation mode. Laundry is done by hand rather than by machine; showers become briefer and less frequent; flushing of toilets is less frequent and/or done by bucket; grass is not watered; cars are not washed. There is always the hope for rain and collection buckets are put under roof drain spouts. But the reality is that we are the middle of hot, dry, dusty season here (in the 90s, high humidity) and the need for water is urgent. I personally drink over 3 liters of water a day, to say nothing of the number of shirts I sweat through.
Thankfully, our family is in a really good position in that our landlord takes care of our water, which is included in the rent. He has created an incredible number backup tanks and wells here on the Hill (the rumor is that he has an entire basement under his house filled with backup water....clearly this man is determined to combat the dire water situation). Even with all these preventative measures, he told us when we moved in that about every 2 years or so, even he needs to call a water truck (which we'll need to help pay for). So far, in the year and a half living here, we've never run out of water, even with these 13 day outages.
Because of our plentiful supply, I honestly don't even know when Dawasco is shut off except by seeing its impact on others. I start seeing Tanzanian workers on the Hill carrying their water jugs and filling up at our well. I see grass getting brown, cars getting dirty, and the looks of stress on peoples' faces. Discussion of Dawasco becomes a common topic.
The irony of all this is that the water, even when it's flowing plentifully, isn't even of good quality. It absolutely has to be filtered before drinking or washing fruits/vegetables because it contains a myriad of pathogens and bacteria. Although every family here makes their own decisions about when they use maji safi (clean water) and when they use tap, I take a very conservative position in that I use filtered water for all cooking (even stuff that's boiled) and brushing teeth. When we first moved here we had a lot of stomach issues and so it's worth the extra time and effort to me to prevent as much as I can. Besides containing invisible hazards, it's also incredibly dirty water - we need to clear out our filter periodically and it is caked with gunk (dirt, sand, etc.) that comes from the tap.
After Dawasco returned last week, a number of people in our community started developing nasty boils on their skin. It probably makes sense that after weeks of lying dormant even more bacteria had entered the pipeline. I honestly don't even want to think about the water quality and what's entering their skin and hair as my kids shower. I try to encourage them to keep their eyes and mouths closed, but how realistic is that? Not surprisingly, skin infections and stomach ailments are common here and cuts take a very long time to heal.
I know that water was always something I took for granted in the West and at times, I think longingly of the days when the hot water tap brought hot, the cold water tap brought cold, water was always flowing, and I could even be safe in drinking the water that filled my toilet bowl if I wanted. And let's be honest here: there are people all over the world that are suffering from these, and even worse conditions: women and children walking miles under blazing sun and facing unsafe conditions (including rape) just to get water that will make them sick.
Consider supporting one of these organizations:
Water Missions International (my uncle is on the Board).
The Water Project
Living Water International
Communication of the outages has been sporadic and generally transmitted by word of mouth. Sometimes, we'll get advance notice of the outages and can make sure our backup tanks are filled. Sometimes, we won't. Other times, they will say that the water will be off for 2 days and it's off for over a week. We've just come off a (largely unscheduled) 13 day outage for some parts of the city and this past weekend, Dawasco issued a statement that water will be off for another 2 weeks (which is disturbing if they are saying 2 weeks up front...how long will it actually be?!!)
Whenever this happens, 2 million+ people in the city of Dar es Salaam are without a reliable water supply. When Dawasco is cut, the options are to buy water at the store or to have a water truck come to fill up your backup tanks (The cost for the truck is around $50 for about 1300 gallons of water and like any good believer in supply-side economics, water truck companies ensure that this cost can go up during shortage times). Even Dawasco water here is significantly more costly than our water bills in NJ. (around $25 a month for an average family).
Once the water is cut, people try to go into conservation mode. Laundry is done by hand rather than by machine; showers become briefer and less frequent; flushing of toilets is less frequent and/or done by bucket; grass is not watered; cars are not washed. There is always the hope for rain and collection buckets are put under roof drain spouts. But the reality is that we are the middle of hot, dry, dusty season here (in the 90s, high humidity) and the need for water is urgent. I personally drink over 3 liters of water a day, to say nothing of the number of shirts I sweat through.
Thankfully, our family is in a really good position in that our landlord takes care of our water, which is included in the rent. He has created an incredible number backup tanks and wells here on the Hill (the rumor is that he has an entire basement under his house filled with backup water....clearly this man is determined to combat the dire water situation). Even with all these preventative measures, he told us when we moved in that about every 2 years or so, even he needs to call a water truck (which we'll need to help pay for). So far, in the year and a half living here, we've never run out of water, even with these 13 day outages.
Because of our plentiful supply, I honestly don't even know when Dawasco is shut off except by seeing its impact on others. I start seeing Tanzanian workers on the Hill carrying their water jugs and filling up at our well. I see grass getting brown, cars getting dirty, and the looks of stress on peoples' faces. Discussion of Dawasco becomes a common topic.
The irony of all this is that the water, even when it's flowing plentifully, isn't even of good quality. It absolutely has to be filtered before drinking or washing fruits/vegetables because it contains a myriad of pathogens and bacteria. Although every family here makes their own decisions about when they use maji safi (clean water) and when they use tap, I take a very conservative position in that I use filtered water for all cooking (even stuff that's boiled) and brushing teeth. When we first moved here we had a lot of stomach issues and so it's worth the extra time and effort to me to prevent as much as I can. Besides containing invisible hazards, it's also incredibly dirty water - we need to clear out our filter periodically and it is caked with gunk (dirt, sand, etc.) that comes from the tap.
After Dawasco returned last week, a number of people in our community started developing nasty boils on their skin. It probably makes sense that after weeks of lying dormant even more bacteria had entered the pipeline. I honestly don't even want to think about the water quality and what's entering their skin and hair as my kids shower. I try to encourage them to keep their eyes and mouths closed, but how realistic is that? Not surprisingly, skin infections and stomach ailments are common here and cuts take a very long time to heal.
I know that water was always something I took for granted in the West and at times, I think longingly of the days when the hot water tap brought hot, the cold water tap brought cold, water was always flowing, and I could even be safe in drinking the water that filled my toilet bowl if I wanted. And let's be honest here: there are people all over the world that are suffering from these, and even worse conditions: women and children walking miles under blazing sun and facing unsafe conditions (including rape) just to get water that will make them sick.
Consider supporting one of these organizations:
Water Missions International (my uncle is on the Board).
The Water Project
Living Water International
Friday, February 6, 2015
Karma
I've been reflecting on the concept of karma recently and how fully it has permeated the American mindset. Although this is originally a Buddhist teaching, somehow even Christians are posting things on Facebook related to karma, all in apparent light-hearted fun.
As found in pop culture, the American understanding of karma is basically, "what goes around comes around": if you do nice things for people, you'll have nice things done for you (and conversely, you generate "bad karma" if you don't treat people well).
It sounds kind of like the Golden Rule, but with one difference: the Bible does not call us to treat others well so that we will be treated well. We are called to show love to others despite their treatment of us. Just look at the cast of people in the Bible who did an incredible number of good things, most notably, Jesus. Instead, most people know how that turned out. Was Jesus actually crucified due to bad karma?
One can see where the popularity of karma comes in as there is definitely something ingrained in our DNA that demands justice...or at least our human concept of justice. Good people should have good things, and bad people should not prosper. In fact, although there are a vast number of books such as When Bad Things Happen to Good People (Kushner) on this topic, this is not a new concept. The Psalms in particular are full of cries against injustice. Jeremiah boldly cries out to God in chapter 12:1... "Yet I would speak with you about your justice: why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all the faithless live at ease?" Perhaps even more disturbing to our limited concept of human justice, much of the prosperity we see may be without regard to the soul: Matthew 5:45 explains that the sun rises on the evil and the good, and rain is sent to both the righteous and unrighteous. Some day, we know, eternal justice will prevail, but on this earth, God, not karma, decides the course of our lives. And they often do look unjust.
However, this truth is comforting, since ultimately, all of us deserve "bad karma." We are have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) and not one of us is righteous ("No, not one! - Romans 3:10). As a recipient of extreme grace, I'm thankful that He does not repay us as our sins deserve (Psalm 103:10).
A somewhat related idea that I've noticed (and that is also disturbingly present in my own life) is what I'll call "causality": the idea, however jokingly presented, that what I do can "jinx" myself or somehow control an outcome. Examples of this include: talking about how amazing the weather is (doing so may cause the weather to turn?), mentioning that the traffic has been moving well (saying this out loud can somehow result in a traffic jam?), being thankful that health has been good (somehow articulating this can result in illness?) To avoid these pitfalls, many people "knock on wood" in an attempt to negate those bold statements which may invite disaster. How is this any different than a prehistoric totem or rain dance?
As I write out these mainstream U.S. practices of karma and causality, I'm convicted that these are both false idols. I think both of these topics speak to our deisre for control of our own lives and they also highlight the power that pop culture has over us if we let it. Although it doesn't seem like a big deal to talk about karma and jinxes, I think that, subtly, it shows that we are trying to be God - the original sin found in Genesis.
What's most scary to me is the word subtle. I can't even recall the words "karma" or "knock on wood" spoken during my childhood, but they are now part of everyday-speak. And as Matthew tells us, "For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks." (12:34). Here in Africa, good and evil is very clear and the spirit world is not very far away, as my friend Amy highlights in her blog post about witch doctors here.. But in America, it's gray, subtle, sanitized, feel-good...and maybe even more dangerous because we are not paying attention.
"Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood...but against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12).
As found in pop culture, the American understanding of karma is basically, "what goes around comes around": if you do nice things for people, you'll have nice things done for you (and conversely, you generate "bad karma" if you don't treat people well).
It sounds kind of like the Golden Rule, but with one difference: the Bible does not call us to treat others well so that we will be treated well. We are called to show love to others despite their treatment of us. Just look at the cast of people in the Bible who did an incredible number of good things, most notably, Jesus. Instead, most people know how that turned out. Was Jesus actually crucified due to bad karma?
One can see where the popularity of karma comes in as there is definitely something ingrained in our DNA that demands justice...or at least our human concept of justice. Good people should have good things, and bad people should not prosper. In fact, although there are a vast number of books such as When Bad Things Happen to Good People (Kushner) on this topic, this is not a new concept. The Psalms in particular are full of cries against injustice. Jeremiah boldly cries out to God in chapter 12:1... "Yet I would speak with you about your justice: why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all the faithless live at ease?" Perhaps even more disturbing to our limited concept of human justice, much of the prosperity we see may be without regard to the soul: Matthew 5:45 explains that the sun rises on the evil and the good, and rain is sent to both the righteous and unrighteous. Some day, we know, eternal justice will prevail, but on this earth, God, not karma, decides the course of our lives. And they often do look unjust.
However, this truth is comforting, since ultimately, all of us deserve "bad karma." We are have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) and not one of us is righteous ("No, not one! - Romans 3:10). As a recipient of extreme grace, I'm thankful that He does not repay us as our sins deserve (Psalm 103:10).
A somewhat related idea that I've noticed (and that is also disturbingly present in my own life) is what I'll call "causality": the idea, however jokingly presented, that what I do can "jinx" myself or somehow control an outcome. Examples of this include: talking about how amazing the weather is (doing so may cause the weather to turn?), mentioning that the traffic has been moving well (saying this out loud can somehow result in a traffic jam?), being thankful that health has been good (somehow articulating this can result in illness?) To avoid these pitfalls, many people "knock on wood" in an attempt to negate those bold statements which may invite disaster. How is this any different than a prehistoric totem or rain dance?
As I write out these mainstream U.S. practices of karma and causality, I'm convicted that these are both false idols. I think both of these topics speak to our deisre for control of our own lives and they also highlight the power that pop culture has over us if we let it. Although it doesn't seem like a big deal to talk about karma and jinxes, I think that, subtly, it shows that we are trying to be God - the original sin found in Genesis.
What's most scary to me is the word subtle. I can't even recall the words "karma" or "knock on wood" spoken during my childhood, but they are now part of everyday-speak. And as Matthew tells us, "For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks." (12:34). Here in Africa, good and evil is very clear and the spirit world is not very far away, as my friend Amy highlights in her blog post about witch doctors here.. But in America, it's gray, subtle, sanitized, feel-good...and maybe even more dangerous because we are not paying attention.
"Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood...but against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12).
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