Rant

 *WARNING: Serious rant alert.*

Oh dear, little tipsy, been a bit gobby. Philip took myself and another volunteer out for fish and beer this evening. Very kind of him indeed. I met this other volunteer briefly at Nyanza. He’s here to give a talk tomorrow for VSO, to try and attract new districts to sign up for volunteers as the programme is expanding here in Rwanda.

He's lovely. Big gentle giant, bit like Bruce, who should be coming out in January. However, after a lovely meal and a Mutzig, we got talking and I’ve been a bit argumentative. I’m still reeling a little from a comment someone made a few weeks ago in Gahini.

The conversation back then was along the lines that said person, in Gahini, visited a refugee camp and met a guy who had been there almost 30 years. He had absolutely nothing, lived in a damp make-shift hut with his mother, yet when this volunteer showed up the man held out his hand, smiled and welcomed him. The comment that arose from this story - the one that hit a nerve - was: 

We’ve lost sight of what it’s all about in the West. 

The intended meaning behind that line is that, in the West, we are over-privileged and have lost the meaning of human kindness and values. At the time I didn’t argue. I bit my tongue, discretely left the table, and went to help with the washing-up.

Unfortunately, tonight, this volunteer echoed the same sentiment (so many people here do!) and, after a meal and a drink, I’m afraid I may have explained to him why that was utter crap lol

Let me explain (Dad can stop reading now as he phoned soon after I got back and has heard the entire argument lol)...

It is an incredibly fashionable thing for people who travel to less developed countries to shake their heads and lament that, in the West (I’m going to start saying 'Britain' for relevancy) we’ve all lost the meaning of human understanding, community and kindness – and that developing countries have got it right, because they haven’t been tainted by modernisation.

There’s a real deep-felt justification in kicking Britain, saying that we’ve got no values – or none that count.

The first citation of 'values and community' that he gave was umuganda. If you’ve been reading, you’ll know that this is the monthly half-day in Rwanda when everything stops so that the nation can partake in national service. It’s a really good idea, don’t get me wrong, nice touch. Everyone digs a hole, the phone company lay cables, and suddenly a village has communication. 

This is held up as an example of how Rwanda has got it right and Britain has got it wrong.

My question: Do people have a choice whether they participate or not? 

Answer: Well, yes. You can pay to get out of it. 

How many can afford to pay?

This, I take umbrage with. One of the values I appreciate in Britain: choice. Yes, you can choose to be a completely lazy-arsed slob (gods know I’ve enjoyed such periods), ignore international politics and watch cartoons all day. Or, you can choose to be pro-active, take up a cause and fight for it. Either way, in general, you are free to speak your mind and be as lazy or pro-active as you like without the fear that you aren’t going to eat that day, that your wife will be raped, or that soldiers will open fire on you. The notion that people are somehow better, happier, kinder, more thoughtful and community-spirited because they have nothing, because they’ve lived through an horrific ordeal, or because they’re dirt poor... personally, I think that’s a romanticised notion. It’s like the saying "Money doesn’t buy happiness," and the counter-quote: "That must have been said by somebody who has never been poor."

"But there’s no community spirit in Britain," was the next argument. "Nobody does anything for nothing, we’re thoughtless." 

So, I explained about the 30 volunteers I got to turn up and paint, donate to, and completely refurbish a community centre I was opening. Then I explained about a village near a friend’s house where they had a road that needed surfacing. The council said it wasn’t their responsibility, so everyone pooled money and resources and did it themselves. I’ve seen plenty of community spirit in my time. 

"Well," came the reply, "you must be living in a very different Britain to me..." 

That made me really sad, that somebody who had lived quite a bit longer than me felt that he’d never seen community spirit in action back home. Perhaps he’d never had need to join in a community project or event. I don’t think home is so very different – you give a little to get a little. I held back the sharp retort that, 13 years ago, community spirit here was for thousands of people to pop round to their next door neighbour’s house, hold them down, hack off their limbs and kill their children.

You might not want to say it, but you can’t help thinking it when somebody comes out with such an illogical argument about the comparative state of society between Britain (the West) and Rwanda (developing countries).

Dad always warns about generalising – you can’t generalise. There are decent people and eejits in every country, and he’s right. But this was an argument specifically on a general level; a besting of two social structures. I just think it’s crap to be honest. Ghislain, another volunteer, gave a brilliant quote, can’t remember from where: 

I’m okay, you’re okay, as people. 

People are people are people.

I suppose there’s a little national pride runs through me. I do love my country. I love its seasons, its language, its traditions, its countryside and history. I’d expect anyone to feel that about their country. I’m what Billig would class as a 'banal nationalist' – I love my homeland, but usually I don’t feel any great need to shout about it. It turns to hot nationalism when I hear people making comments aforementioned. 

I just can’t see how you can look at a nation with such comparatively advanced and strongly implemented disability legislation, gender equality, free education, healthcare, freedom of speech and social security systems with such disappointment and contempt. Yes, we have uneducated, thoughtless and unpleasant people – so does any country. They even exist in refugee camps. But, if those are currently the worst faults we’ve got, well, we’re doing okay really.