Living in Tanzania means living in community in a way that I had never experienced in Canada. Most of the time it's great but there are a few drawbacks once in a while and one of those is related to money. I have been informed many times about this struggle but I never fully understood it until I found myself in the middle of it.
Let me set the scene. For the average Tanzanian, money is scarce and that makes life difficult, particularly when large expenses occur. These are often hospital bills, funerals and children's schooling. The only way they are able to deal with these types of difficulties is by coming together as a community. They openly ask each other for money and are expected to contribute, even if it is only a small amount. The expectation is particularly high for relatives, close friends and neighbours. They know they need to give when asked because one day it will be them doing the asking. Through this support system they manage to survive.
However as I begin to enter this system I throw the whole thing off balance. As a distinctly different coloured person in this society, my white skin screams 'money' to everyone I meet. People know just by looking at me that I have money (not as much as they think but still more) and they openly ask me for some. The truth is that I do have more money than the average Tanzanian and am willing to help meet needs wherever I can.
I had been told that being generous helps build friendships and so was prepared to participate in the community this way. At first it was fine. I generally ignored the many children outside my gate who randomly asked for money but was able to contribute when a friend needed some money for travel, a funeral or to raise money for a church building.
Then one week it changed. Little requests for money once in a while became large requests all the time. Suddenly it felt like all my good friends needed lots of money all the time and I was their main source. As much as I knew in my head that in this culture, asking for money from friends builds relationships, it felt as if they were destroying it. I started to feel used, as if they only wanted to get close enough to me that they could ask for money. And more and more people have begun asking to the point where I have to say no if I want to eat this month.
The latest request that had me throwing my hands up in the air was one for about $1000. I wish I had that kind of money to help everyone who asks but I don't, so where does that leave me? To add to my dilemma, the money I live on comes from people who give it to me so I can be here, helping to translate the Bible. So whose money is it anyway?
I think the only answer to that is that it is God's. I'm still trying to figure out what that means practically for me and how to deal with the fact that it makes me feel used. Mostly, I just pray for wisdom that I would be help people in need and yet still have what I need to live. It's not my money so I will trust God to see it put to the uses He intended.
