Second Edition of Kristi's Ongoing Conversations with Herself: Am I "Rich"?

Before reading ask yourself the following:

Are you rich? 

Is Africa poor? 

What characteristics determine whether one (individual or country) is rich or poor?

Really think about it.

I am white.  Most of you already know that.  My body is like a flashing neon sign in a dark field in Africa.  But I will save a discussion on race until the next Kristi’s Ongoing Conversations with Herself.  For right now I will say that here, for most people here, White = Rich, unequivocally.  So, I ask, what does “rich” mean?

My current hypothesis is that most Americans, and indeed the rest of the West, determines wealth solely based on material possessions—the accumulation of Stuff.  If you have a large bank account, you are obviously rich.  Okay, but bank accounts are not overly visible displays of wealth, so wealth really is determined by what one can purchase with that large bank account.  As a result we have established culturally certain kinds of possessions that immediately display wealth and, therefore, success.  They are things such as: electronic gadgets (trendy ones such as Apple products and entertainment technologies), clothes (including shoes), vehicles, and living structures, just to name a few.  These key things have been established as markers of wealth, however, just because one has them doesn’t mean they are wealthy.  Americans have mastered the art of looking rich without being so.  We have milked the practice of borrowing unnecessary amounts of money to its utmost.  Our inability to manage debt has allowed us to indulge in this image without the meat to back it up.  So, how does this translate to Ghana and my experience in it?

A history of unregulated giving and limited interactions with people from the outside, many people in Africa associate white people with lots of possessions, which must mean they are rich.  This leads to regular experience of children (and even old men) chanting “Give me small money, give me small money” as I pass.  Many even assume that because I am there, Peace Corps will bring them money (and maybe jobs?) which is the antithesis of PC.  This image extends to a blanket stereotype of America in general.  Several people I have talked to have been generally shocked to learn there are “poor” people in the US.  That there are homeless people, and people who can’t afford to eat.  To them, America is a land of milk and honey.  If they can only get there, their problems will go away.  I try to tell them that No, they don’t go away, they only change.  I also try to tell them that even though Americans (even low-income Americans) make more money than the average Ghanaian, but we incur many more expenses than they do.  There are so many more bills to pay!

The West possesses most of the imaging and idea-generating power in this globalized world.  For generations, Africa has been told by White travelers, development workers and missionaries that they are poor and need to be saved.  This same Western voice has said so because its sole marker of wealth has been cash flow.  If you can’t make or spend money, you are poor.  So Africans must be poor, and we must find ways to increase their cash flow so they can be rich, and their problems will go away.  It’s become a part of the cultural consciousness in many places.  So let’s mess this straight and narrow line up a little.

What is poverty?  Ghana, like any nation on earth, has its problems, but starvation isn’t one of them.  People don’t make a lot of money, but they can afford to feed themselves and their children, buy cloth to make beautiful clothes, afford electricity when the infrastructure permits its existence, travel small when they need to, etc.  Everyone has a cell phone (and some of them are really nice too).  Some own motorbikes.  But their houses are falling apart.  They can’t always afford school fees.  Children may go around in tattered clothes, but that does not mean they don’t bath or have nice clothes for church.  I have met many Ghanaians who are well educated and working hard to improve the quality of life in Ghana.  Opportunities and capacity are existent here, maybe just not as abundantly as in America.  But then, America isn’t always the Land of Equal Opportunity it strives to be.  Gross inequities exist everywhere in the world, they just manifest differently in different places.

So I wonder if the real discussion about causes of wealth and poverty, and their definitions, don’t exist so much at the relative individual scale, but perhaps through governments.  I am not rich in my country, and I’m not really any richer here.  I don’t have an income, my bank account is miniscule, but my safety nets are richer.  My government will pay for my healthcare for the next two years (though not when I actually go home) and I have a safe home to go to should something unspeakable happen here.  Even the poorest Americans have access to certain amenities (like running water) because the infrastructure has been established to facilitate and support that.  Does that make me richer than Ghanaians?  Sure Ghanaians may not have as much stuff, and the children may not have toys, but don’t we complain that too many Things have corrupted our youth?  Don’t we complain about the hours young Americans spend in front of the TV, Playstation, computer, etc?  Children here possess a freedom American children don’t.  They can roam safely.  They are able to socialize well with their peers.  They contribute to the maintenance of the household (by sweeping, fetching water, running errands, etc).  They have time to be children, to do leisure activities of their choice without being overscheduled with a hundred extracurricular activities.  So, in this light, the children don’t seem so “poor” do they?

Ghanaians are rich in time.  They have the time for leisure, the time to do nothing, the time to wait, the time to sit and chat with their neighbors, their friends, their sisters.  They have the time to properly greet everyone they pass.  They are not running from appointment to appointment, never claim to be too busy to do something, not too busy ferrying their kids to different activities that they can’t cook a proper meal.  In Time, I’d say Americans are very poor.

Many volunteers, upon leaving for their service, are bombarded with well wishers complimenting them on the unselfish decision and an admiration of a perceived dedication to “helping those poor people.”  This makes my skin crawl, because it implies to me that the person believes people here don’t have the power, the ability, or the capacity to help themselves, that they are powerless, which is not true.  Service in Peace Corps is every bit as selfish as it is unselfish.  We often get more than we give. 

My argument is not that there is no such thing as a rich person or a poor person, or that it only exists in relativity.  My argument is that when you look on someone as a rich person or a poor person (or a group of people) you should ask yourself what is contributing to that judgment.  What visual (or other) indicators is making you judge this way?  And what is your reaction to it?  Maybe wealth and poverty exist in other realms of life besides just monetarily and materially.  If that is so, there are many cases, I’m sure where Ghana is richer than the US.