On our first day of Swahili lessons at
the beginning of the summer we learned the use of the term 'Pole'
(pronounced: poh-lay.) It translates in English to mean 'Sorry' but
is used in slightly different situations, most commonly at the end of
the day when someone finishes work. It is appropriate to say 'pole'
to elders, coworkers, friends, and in passing someone on the street.
At first I could not come out from behind my Western lens to
understand this term, instead I found it slightly insulting! Having
just come from a society that values work and individualism I
reasoned that saying 'pole' to someone after a day's work implied
that the job was not satisfying to them. Afterall, isn't is a
Western ideal to value work? Western societies encourage people to
love their work, if not because it is fulfilling but at least because
it is an income source, so why should someone say sorry when working
is good? I could not understand why this was a normal thing to say.
Still, I obliged to saying 'pole' whenever appropriate, despite my
resentment towards it.
Over these weeks I have continued
thinking about this term, trying to understand the culture values
that reinforces it. Today as I walked home from work it finally
clicked. The day has been a long one; after teaching, constructing a
plant nursery, and passing out certificates we were came back to the
office later than usual. Upon return we gathered materials for next
week and met with our supervisor for our weekly reports. Halfway
through our meeting the other volunteers returned from a village they
had worked at all week and we proceeded to exchange greetings and
share stories. After our meeting I stayed longer with the supervisor
to discuss other matters. It was around 5:00pm when I was finished
at the office and well past lunchtime. Dinner would be in four hours
and I debated whether it would be worth picking up something. I
debated this as I walked downtown to check my host-family's post
office box, only to find the post office had closed already.
Mentally and physically fatigued, I thought it best to begin the
thirty minute walk home. Taking a daladala is always an option, but
I find the walk to be refreshing and therapeutic, even when exhausted
There were many people I passed as I
walked my usual path, many faces who probably know mine better than I
do theirs, being one of the few mzungu that pass by everyday. There
was the occasional friendly greeting equivalent to a “Hello” or
“How are you?”and I offered my own greeting in return. My long
strides carried me past several people including one woman who also
appeared to be exhausted from the day's work. She wore a beautiful
red patterned dress, gold earrings and a white scarf over her head,
her face had begun to wrinkle from years spent working. She called
to me the more formal greeting of “Hujambo?” to which I replied
“Sijambo.” Instead of ending with this as most greetings do, she
continued with “Pole, Mama!” (Mama is named to anyone who appears
older than 18). I blushed in embarrassment at first thinking that my
exhaustion was so visible for another to see it and offer sympathy.
Then I realized that saying 'pole' to another is not the same as
offering a consolation for having to work. It is another behavior
that reflects the ideal of Ujamaa, or familyhood, that the first
President Nyerere instilled in Tanzanian society. In TZ, saying
'pole' to someone creates a bond of compassion that connects the two
as family members. For Western societies saying sorry (and really
meaning it) is usually reserved for close friends and one's
biological family, and would rarely be offered as a sincere greeting
for a stranger.
Perhaps it was my fatigue that was
affecting my perspective, but something about the way she said this
made everything click and I could have hugged her for saying 'Pole'
to me. With the Western lens removed and a new perspective of
'pole,' I gained a much clearer view of Tanzanian culture and the
influence of Ujamaa. This mama knew nothing about my day, where I
came from, or why I am here, but she still offered the expression of
compassion that unites Tanzanians in a familyhood.
In reply I said the customary thanks
and returned the compassion with “pole na wewe” (sorry and to
you). She smiled, said thank-you, and my stride continued to carry
me away from her. Just like that, we lived out the Ujamaa philosophy
that continues to thrive in Tanzanians, almost forty years since
Nyerere's presidency.
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