By Dr. Tekalign Nega Angore (PhD) ₁

It was fifteen years ago that for the first time in my life I traveled from my home country, Ethiopia, to India for a three-month short-term training. On my journey, I encountered being a foreigner for the first time. While there was the joy of visiting a new country, the feeling of being a foreigner was not pleasant. Being a foreigner brings a lot of discomfort. There’s a fear of, “Will they accept my true self?”

I learned a lot during my trip. As I went to shops, I gradually understood that I had to take off my shoes to show respect, due to the presence of images and statues of gods. Although the country is first in the world in the number of cattle, their culture does not allow the consumption of cattle.  Talking about the deliciousness of raw meat is unthinkable in India. The locals even avoid wearing belts made of their leather, let alone eating their meat. When I ordered tea, I was served tea with milk. When I argued that I hadn’t ordered that, I was rebuked for not ordering “black tea.” Cars were also driven on the left side, so I had to repeatedly remind myself. The country’s values, attitudes, and practices were indeed different from what I was used to.

How Was I Seen?

I was a stranger to the country; I found my place among “them”, not among “us”. How did they treat my otherness? Did they look at my strangeness with suspicion? Was being a foreigner seen as a problem, or did it bring me affection? Wherever I went, people I didn’t know invited me and showed me amazing kindness. When I didn’t have the exact rupees to pay for a Bajaj (three-wheeled taxi), people repeatedly took out money from their own pockets and paid for me. In India, the passenger is supposed to prepare the exact payment, unlike in our country where the driver does it. Strangers on the street bought me ice cream and took me where I wanted to go without any charge. My foreignness brought me respect and care from most people, rather than suspicion.

Why did I see all this goodness from people I didn’t know and who were so different from me? I asked because I was surprised. The answer is related to the teachings of Hinduism. It is believed in Hinduism that gods reveal themselves among people, disguised as guests. Why do the gods reveal themselves disguised as humans? The answer is to measure the moral uprightness of the believers. Indeed, the biggest measure of our moral compass is the consistency of our morality; our standing and falling are measured by the kindness and generosity we show to those we perceive as unlike us. Anyone can show kindness and goodness to those who are similar to them.

After my first trip abroad, I had the opportunity to visit other countries. In the Netherlands, where I earned my doctorate, my blackness was not well-received by some white people (though they were few in number). More than once, as I was leaving a supermarket, while everyone else’s bags were untouched, mine was thoroughly searched by hand, in addition to going through the machine, under the suspicion that I might have taken something. I simply smiled and asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?” For these security guards, my otherness, my blackness, made them suspect me as a thief; I also observed them unnecessarily glaring at me repeatedly around the merchandise area.

We will never forget what happened to our fellow citizens in South Africa; the horrific events they experienced under the belief that “strangers have come and are competing for our wealth and opportunities.”

What About Us?

Here in my own country, we don’t trust white people because they don’t look like us, even if they haven’t done anything wrong. In the close friendships I’ve formed with white people, I’ve been repeatedly advised, “Don’t trust them.” For many, “whiteness” is still seen as being a spy, so we don’t share our deepest concerns with them. I’ve been repeatedly asked by local taxi drivers to cooperate in overcharging them when we share a taxi, and I’ve been criticized and insulted for not cooperating.

Recently, the cruelties and injustices we inflicted on members of other ethnic groups who have lived among us for many years, simply because they were considered newcomers, will never be erased from our memories. We have committed acts of violence that are beyond belief. Many were displaced from their homes; their property was looted and destroyed, and precious human lives were brutally taken.

Our Proverbs

Let us examine some of our proverbs related to foreignness.  “A relative with  his relatives as a donkey is with its ashes” – what does this tell us? Doesn’t it encourage us to find those who are similar to us? “A tree falls from its trunk; a person is in trouble gets help  from their relatives.” This suggests that our relatives are the ones who will help us in times of trouble. We also say, “The rich have relatives,” to show that our kinship is sometimes based on benefit. “A close neighbor is better than a distant relative” is another proverb that shows that kinship is also about neighborhood. “A wife, once divorced, is a stranger; millet, once cut, is a stalk,” shows that kinship can be severed. If we reflect on these proverbs alone, they tell us a lot. They tell us that kinship is about connection and closeness; they also tell us that we associate with those who are similar to us. They also show us that our kinship can be self-serving. They also emphasize that being a stranger is about a lack of connection and difference.

Guest Status

Guest status is not just a matter of physical space. In most cases, it is social. Guest status is being a stranger, to be judged as not being part of us or not resembling us based on difference. Guest status is the result of magnifying the few differences while ignoring our many similarities. Guest status is otherness; and this otherness is mostly not seen in a positive light. Guest status is a tool to deny others their rights, not to embrace them. Guest status is mostly about suspicion and being seen with fear. Guest status is discomfort with difference. The details of the differences can vary. We can be different in our ethnicity, skin color, religion, political ideology, culture, gender, or social status.

The true measure of our life’s health is how we treat guests. Welcoming guests is allowing those we call “others” to enter our space and treating them with kindness. The difference between those who welcomed me during my travels abroad and those who saw my guest status as a threat is related to how they viewed otherness. Those who saw my otherness as a manifestation of God were eager to serve me. Those who saw my guest status as a problem, without knowing me, watched me with suspicion.

Open Heartedness

I tried to observe the people who saw my guest status positively, hoping to learn something from them. What they had in common was the breadth of their hearts. The breadth of their hearts created a place for me, the guest, in their hearts. Their perspective was to get to know me, not to judge me. They are inquisitive; they appreciate differences; they also have respect for differences. There were places where I was invited to a feast but felt rejected. There were also places where I was offered only a cup of water but felt welcomed. This made me understand that welcoming a guest is more than just putting them under our roof and sharing a meal; it’s about making space in our hearts.

When a guest finds a place in our hearts, we don’t have trouble being with them. We can talk, chat, and reflect together. Their joy becomes our joy, and their tears become our tears. Our relationship is not a competition to be superior. We see the difference as another beauty, not as a source of discomfort; we have an insatiable curiosity to know the other; we give them an ear to listen, hoping to learn something from them. The perspective of many of us, which is to see those who are unlike us with suspicion and fear, does not dominate our identity; we don’t have trouble sharing.

How are we seeing guests, those who are unlike us? Does their difference attract us, or does it distance us? Are our hearts open or closed? Are we diligent in welcoming guests? Are we ready to share the things and goodness we show to our close ones with guests? Do we know that a guest is a place to test and prove the truthfulness of our identity, which we boast about? Do we think of our guest as a manifestation of the hidden God? Is our ancient proverb, “God’s guest does not sleep in the field,” leading us to receive others with love and joy? By preparing a place in our hearts for guests, by expanding our hearts, by sharing what we have, we gain, we do not lose.

Reference

[1] Given that the article was originally written in Amharic and then translated into English using AI, it’s important to be mindful of potential nuances that might have been lost in translation.