An episode of ethnocentrism

Superb starlings at Fisherman’s Camp plunged me into an episode of ethnocentrism. Just little birds!

At first, we and our fellow orientees were in awe of the superb starlings’ striking beauty. Their wings and back reflected a brilliant, shimmery blue-green color. Combine that with their orange bellies and black heads and indeed, their beauty was stunning. And to think they lived right there with us, so close!

Before long, though, their arrogant, tenacious determination to steal our food—right from our plates sometimes!—soured our initial admiration.

To make matters worse, they pooped on our laundry hanging between trees. When that happened, I’d have to get out my little plastic basin, scrub the laundry clean, and hang it to dry—again under those birds!

Then the ibis calls began to get on our nerves—they were so loud and piercing. In fact, they bordered on obnoxious.

Mind you, people come from around the world to watch and listen to Lake Naivasha’s birds, but to my way of thinking, those birds were an annoyance. And they definitely were inferior to my birds back home in Washington.

I suppose we all wrestle with it. It’s called ethnocentrism.

Ethnocentrism—it’s the assumption that our birds are better than their birds, the belief that we do things the right way and they (people in other cultures) do them the wrong way.

It’s the conviction that our way is superior while theirs is inferior—things like traditions, values, music, race, appearance, language, odors, religious practices, humor, marriage, child-rearing, medicine, and food, to name only a few.

And often our assumptions are not correct.

A North American arriving in Kenya might scoff, “People drive on the wrong side of the road here!” In fact, they don’t drive down the wrong side of the road—they drive down the left side of the road. Driving on the left is not inferior to driving on the right side—it’s simply different from the North American practice of driving on the right side.

An important objective during our orientation course, then, was to recognize our ethnocentrism and take a fresh, positive look at Africa and the African way of thinking and doing, and soon Dave and I would conclude that Africans do many things better than Americans. Our goal was to humble ourselves, learn to honor Africans, and live in their culture without causing offense.

And so, I’m happy that I could write in Chapter 1 of Grandma’s Letters from Africa that within a few days, I learned to focus on the positive aspects of Lake Naivasha’s birds.

Still today, I cherish those birdsongs. 

Once in a while, I’ll hear one of them in a movie 

or TV program about Africa—

and oh, the rich memories those songs stir up!

What about you?

Have you experienced cultural differences 

that caused ethnocentric thoughts to break out? 

If so, how did you handle it? 

Did the situation turn out well in the end? I hope so!

Share your stories with us!

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