Crossing cultures is a two-way street. A missionary doubtless has many things to learn when living in another culture. But often the nationals may have little or no perception of how different the missionary’s culture is to his own. Sometimes these situations have their humorous side. Joseph Kauffman relates an interesting conversation he had one day with Peter, one of his interpreters…

An Attempt to Understand the Unfamiliar

Peter, what do you do for a living?” I asked my interpreter one day.

“What I do to live? Why, eat and sleep, of course,” he replied.

“No, I mean, what is the work that you do when you are not out in the villages interpreting for us?”

“Well, I grow my food in the garden. That makes me plenty busy. If one of my houses falls down, I rebuild it. If my sleeping mat wears out, I make a new one. I also carry my water. I do just what everybody else in my village does. What do you do in America?”

“I build minibarns. Do you know what a barn is?”

“No, what is a barn?”

“It is somewhat like a house, only people do not live in it. It is the place where the animals live and where we feed them.”

“Why do you not let the animals roam and find their own food?”

“Why, they would go out on the road!”

“So?”

“Cars would hit them and kill them!”

“Do not the drivers in America watch for your animals when they drive?”

“No, you will even see ten cars go past your house every minute. They are all driving ninety kilometers per hour, and they will not look out for your animals. They drive so fast they might even get killed if they hit a horse. They would get angry if they saw your horses and cows out on the road.”

“Why would they get angry so easily? And why are they in such a hurry?”

“Well, um—anyway, you see what a barn is. A minibarn is somewhat like a barn, only it is very small. People use it to store their things.”

“What things?”

“Lawn mow—uh, weed eat—hmmm. I guess a lot of different things. People in America like to own a lot of things. Some of their things they only use once in each year then they put it in the minibarn so it won’t spoil while they don’t use it. Oh, sometimes they put garden tools inside.”

“I understand that. But why does not each man build his own?”

“They don’t have time. Remember how in America the people are in a hurry. Also, they wouldn’t know how to build one or how to use the proper tools.”

“Oi! [An African exclamation of surprise] Do the people in America not even know how to make a mud wall or use a mixing stick?!”

“Oh, we do not use mud. Most people there have never seen a building made of mud. We use wood. When we want to haul a big minibarn, we need to get a permit from the government to go on state roads—oh, never mind. We make it with wood.”

“What tools do you use to build with wood?”

“We have saws that use electricity and spin a blade so fast that you can cut through a 4x6—I mean, a thick piece of wood in a few seconds. We also have little guns that shoot nails. You hold it against the wood and when you pull the trigger it makes a loud noise and shoots a nail into the wood. In order for the guns to work they need to be connected to a hose that has compressed air from the air compressor. If one of our tools breaks we need to call for the air compressor fixer or the nailor repairman or the saw blade sharpener or the paint sprayer fixer… Peter, I’m getting a headache. You are right; life in America is very complicated. Let’s go eat our rice. See, the sheep is stealing it out of our bowls!”

Later as we eat, I see Peter in deep thought. Then he asks, “If you build those storehouses all day, tell me, when do you find time to take care of your rice or yam fields so you have something to eat?”