Lost in Translation

My staff here have never worked with a muzungu before, so we are having some communication and expectation issues.  Where I might expect someone to call if they are sick, it seems to be acceptable here (and by here, I mean rural Uganda, not the capital) to not call or ‘pick’ their phone.  Where I expect my storekeeper to engage with our farmers and visitors with good customer service, I instead see the more traditional Ugandan method of customer service: ignore until they go away or are forced to respond. 

Actually, I’m going back and forth on what is the most effective method of customer service here.  On the one hand, I, as a westerner, expect customer service to be all about the customer—the sole purpose of your job is to help the customer.  I used to work in a famous, nationwide retail chain back in America.  The rule of thumb was if someone came within 10 feet or you, or in the room you were working, you had to greet them.  It was a popular, busy store.  You could spend the majority of your working day just greeting customers!  While it was annoying for both the workers and the customers, who were bombarded with greeting after greeting, it was also necessary: Americans expect great customer service and would feel like the store was somehow failing them for not being attentive.  But then I look at how people interact here and wonder if that can really work, if the customer doesn’t expect anything.  Often, people will walk into the store, sit down, greet each other, and maybe after 10 minutes ask a question.  People are content with not having a purpose, and with the slowness in which things move here.  If, through what my westernized idea of good customer service is, my storekeeper began asking a visitor what they want/how to help/etc while they are sitting, it would be considered rude and pushy.  And sometimes, a visitor doesn’t need or want anything; they have come by just to come by. 

I feel like a parent chastising a child sometimes.  I literally have to ask my staff, “Do you understand me?” because Ugandans have this annoying habit of not looking you in the eye and not answering.  Questions are often met with a deliberate look away, and perhaps a raising of eyebrows.  As a westerner, I normally would find this rude and disrespectful; however, as I’m interacting in a different culture, I’m trying to understand their ways.  But I do need to ask if they understand me, because my accent and manner of speaking easily confuses Ugandans, and vice versa.  For example, I recently learned that a “How are things/How is here?” means they are asking about the business I’m running, and requires only an “It’s fine” for a response.  It’s just another form of greeting.  There is also the ubiquitous “You’re welcome”, not as a response to a thanks, but rather as a way of letting me know they appreciate me being here, or as a way of welcoming into a shop or situation.  Want to say goodbye?  Try a “Good time.”  Here’s how these things usually play out:

A man walks into my store. 

Man: How are you?

Me: I’m fine.  How are you?

Man: I am good.  How is here?

Me:  It’s fine.

Man:  You’re welcome.

Me: Thank you.

Man: Good time.

Me: Thank you.

Man leaves.

To all my readers not accustomed with Ugandans, this may sound pointless and a little crazy, but this happens multiple times a day here.  Now, the communication is just chock full of misunderstandings.  As I’ve mentioned before, Ugandan English is not the same as American/British English.  With my staff, I am constantly repeating and rephrasing, and even then, I’m not understood.  Luckily my background teaching non-native speakers helps, but even so, it’s frustrating when you think you are explaining clearly, and they do something completely different.  That’s where the “Do you understand me?” comes in again.  While it might come across to my staff that I am being harsh with them, I merely need to make sure that they understand so they do their jobs correctly. 

Let me give you another example: I gave my field officer instructions to form farmer groups for trainings out in the sub-counties.  Each group will meet once a week; each week will have a different training topic.  We already made our training schedule for each week.  My field officer returns with a group schedule that made my brain hurt.  Different weeks have different groups, none repeating, as they should be.  Mind you, I’d already explained this to him multiple times, but I had to sit him down again, and explain yet again.  Rinse and repeat as necessary.  The whole time I’m going, “Do you understand me?”  He doesn’t respond the first few times I ask, but finally he admits he cannot understand my ‘saying’.  I literally drew him a picture. 

Another problem I’m having with communication is the low-talking.  Remember that episode of Seinfeld, where Kramer is dating the low-talker and Jerry accidentally agrees to wear the puffy shirt on national television, simply because he can’t understand and is too embarrassed to ask her to speak up?  Go to any meeting here and half the people in the room are low-talkers.  However, they only do this in meetings…out on the street or with friends, they talk at reasonable (or sometimes unreasonable) volumes.  I don’t know how other people can actually hear what they are saying, but they all do.  I apparently haven’t fine-tuned my ears to their frequency yet.  I asked my staff about this (my field officer is one of these people), and was informed that to speak loudly, like a muzungu, would be arrogant.  Speaking softly indicates that you are humble.  This isn’t the first culture to think that foreigners, particularly Americans, are loud and arrogant, so I wasn’t really offended.  But I did tell my staff that as a muzungu, I expect to be responded to, and at a volume that people without super-human hearing can understand. 

I would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions on this topic.  This is a great learning experience for me!