A Difference in Disparity

One of the things that was very striking to me about living here I could not put my finger on until today. I was traveling to a much-needed break from site in Manzini with another volunteer. She lives and works at a school in Siteki, and has a modern flat complete with a hot shower, multiple rooms, running water, and reasonably reliable electricity. As she was laughing and sharing stories of all the Swazi friends she has made, I started to feel a little down. I have struggled to make friends in my community, and I was feeling that the struggle must be my fault.

After more thought, the difference became apparent.

I have worked with Americans who were incredibly poor. I taught English to Spanish-speaking adults for 2 years when I was in college, and we met at a food pantry. I have seen the homeless, and I have done other volunteer work to serve those who may not be homeless but live in poverty. I now realize that poverty does not have one universal manifestation.

Poverty in America is very different from poverty in Swaziland. Poor Americans probably still have access to flush toilets, safe drinking water, electricity, and food. Many of them had access (by law, anyway) to education. Looking at the relative poverty line instead of the absolute poverty line, many of them have televisions, computers, internet access, and microwaves. Poor Swazis, by contrast, have often never set foot in a school, as school fees here are very high. They may live in mud and thatch huts, have no pit latrine (they poop in the bush), have no electricity, have no access to water other than a dirty and likely polluted river, have no access to medicine, and rarely leave the homestead.

The middle class in America is not all that different from wealth in Swaziland. I have met Swazis who have internet access, love to read, are highly educated, and maintain strict standards of hygiene. These are the Swazis that I find it easier to identify with. In America, I found wealthy people harder to identify with, because their culture was so different from my own. I found people living in poverty much easier to identify with because they seemed to hold many of the same values my parents instilled in us: love, family, memories, and experiences are more important than things, money, shopping, and fancy cars.

The disparity between rich and poor in America does not have an educational gap of 0 years to university graduation; it has a gap of 10^th grade to university grad if the law was followed. I have never met an American who had to haul water, bathe in a bucket, and cook over a fire. I have never met an American who had a pit latrine or no toilet at all. The disparity in Swaziland is very significant, and it does have an impact on the cultures here.

Rural Swaziland, where I live, has its own culture. Most of the people I have met were born in this village and will die in this village. They may or may not have gone to the village schools. Their whole family lives in this village. They are all unemployed. They are largely uneducated. They have all been hurt by HIV, TB, or cow theft from the Mozambicans (which, though funny to our ears, is financially devastating). They lead lives of agriculture. They are exposed to their neighbors and maybe to people they see in the shopping town. They know very little of what lies past the tar road. There is a sense of hopelessness and a lack of control; this is the life that their parents led, they will lead, and their children will lead. There is no change.

Urban Swaziland, where my friend lives, has a different culture. Young Swazis are rebelling against so many ideas that are embraced by the rural people: women are second to men, women must always wear skirts, you must have as many babies as possible, polygamy, respect being earned by age alone, monarchical rule, and many others. They are critical thinkers, hard workers, and have visions for their futures.

I know that I will make friends in my community, but knowing urban Swazis is so much easier because they are more like me. Overcoming the differences in disparities and understanding the struggles of people who have never before had hope will be one of the most frustrating and rewarding Peace Corps experiences.