“To know another’s language and not his culture is a very good way to make a fluent fool of yourself” (US communication expert, Winston Brembeck) The Golden Rule: Treat others as you want to be treated The Platinum Rule: Treat others as THEY want to be treated “There is no way that this is going to happen. Let’s pull the plug now,” I said. It was late afternoon on the Thursday before the long Easter weekend in 2019. I had just relocated to Rwanda and I was in a tense planning meeting for the first ever Diversity and Inclusion Forum that was being co-sponsored by the UNDP and the World Bank at the Marriott here in Kigali. We were informed that with just five days to go before the scheduled event, we only had 14 people registered, one panelist and no keynote speaker. The situation seemed hopeless to me and I just wanted to avoid any embarrassment or humiliation for anyone. But my co-organizers were not so gloomy and pledged to “get on the phones” over the holiday weekend. “We can do this,” said one sanguine colleague. And by Tuesday morning, we had over 100 delegates, two stellar panels and an inspirational keynote from Rwanda’s then Minister of Local Government, Anastase Shyaka. The conference was a great success. Not only was I hugely relieved that the forum went so well but I was also greatly humbled to realize that I had an awful lot to learn about Rwandan culture. One Rwandan colleague explained that things are planned, organized and implemented in a very different way in this country, which had lost nearly everything 25 years earlier. So no matter how much I had traveled and however many countries I had lived in around the world, I needed to remind myself constantly to take my own cultural glasses off and see my new surroundings through the lens of my hosts. Rwanda did not need to change. I did. This realization also applied to communication and relationship building. I had learned very quickly what to ask and, more importantly, what not to ask when first getting to know someone. Growing up in England, initial small talk usually consisted of grumbling about the weather, sports and family. All of these ‘safe topics’ came into question here where it is pretty much 25 degrees every day; where the Amavubi national football team, Arsenal and now the Patriots are much more popular than my beloved Manchester United; and where many people have tragically lost family members during the Genocide. But there is still one aspect of life here that still challenges me regularly: living in a collective culture. According to extensive intercultural research, the USA – where I lived, worked, married and raised my daughter for more than 30 years – is the most individualistic country in the world. The most important birthday for teenagers is the 16th one if they are lucky enough to be able to get their hands on a second-hand car and start driving. It means independence, autonomy and freedom to pursue the American dream. Three days after her high school graduation, my 18-year-old daughter Emma told me: “I love you, Dad, but I need my space” and she promptly moved in with her boyfriend in a small university town about 60 kilometres away. It is very different here in much more collectivistic Rwanda where one’s deep relationships with family, friends and community and one’s responsibilities to them are much more present and insistent. At first, it was small things such as sharing food with my Rwandan housemate and his friends and guests. So I just bought more of the food items that went quickly. Except for yoghurt, cheese and liver, which did not seem to be very popular. More seriously, when we entered the first Covid lockdown 14 months ago, my Rwandan housemate and I were able to work with the expat community and local village leaders to get emergency supplies to about 200 families in sudden need. Since then, I have always tried to support individual friends with quick Mobile Money transfers of 5,000 to 30,000 francs for gas, food, medical treatment, travel, funerals and even family lawsuits. What I struggle with is when close friends ask for higher and higher amounts for investments or for ‘a friend of theirs in Kampala to buy airtime’ or even to bribe an official for a job (in another country); or when clients, vendors and people whom I don’t know that well at all ask for money for themselves to go on a trip to Nairobi or help someone else whom they say are in need. It seems very churlish of me to tell the truth that as an independent freelancer, I have not in fact earned a single franc here in Rwanda since last July and I am living off retirement savings. So I am still in a dilemma about always wanting to help but not knowing when and where to draw the line. One close Rwandan friend tells me never to lend to anyone and only give money to people whom I know and trust. A foreign friend here says that more business-related requests could be reframed as investments with more formal invoices, receipts and documentation or even some kind of barter arrangement. And a friend in Kenya says: “It can be exhausting, I agree, but by saying ‘no’ a few times, you also get to know who your real friends are and who are only looking to benefit from their relationship with you!” I have tried to follow all of this advice but I would certainly welcome any other practical tips from both Rwandans and foreign residents reading this column. This is the fifth in a monthly series of personal columns, entitled “Letter from Kigali”. Each month, local resident and writer, Jeremy Solomons – who was born and educated in England of Jewish, Lebanese and Persian heritage and naturalized in the USA - shares a unique perspective on what is happening in Rwanda, Africa and the rest of the world. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer.
