One significant consequence of the coronavirus lockdown

This is now, as of today, July 27, 2020, Day No. 135 of the coronavirus lockdown here in Rwanda. The latest totals: 1,821 cases and 5 deaths, for a total population of about 12 million, which is surprisingly low. 

But there is one interesting conclusion that I've come to in the last few months. Actually, I came to this conclusion years ago, but in view of the current pandemic, it has solidified in my mind. And that is this: America is one of the most emotionally repressed, touch-deprived countries in the world. It is uncomfortable, in American culture, to tell people that you love them. Really. Whether it be your family members, friends, or even spouse. Touching anyone except in certain society-approved ways, such as shaking hands, is viewed as a perversion. You can hug someone only if you haven't seen that person in a long time, or in the case of men, if it is in the context of, say, a sports victory.

Yet, scientific evidence shows that infants who are touched not only survive but thrive. Those who are not are more likely to sicken and die. But when a person, especially a boy, reaches adolescence, suddenly all the touching stops. Then, for the rest of your life, you are basically expected to 'man up' and not show or receive any affection. Is it any wonder that in America antidepressants and feelings of isolation are so common?

But in many parts of the world, such as the Middle East, Africa, and India, verbal and physical expressions of affection are common. I've visited quite a few African countries and lived in two of them (Malawi and Rwanda), and I can tell you, culturally people do express their feelings more. There are differences between countries; for example, Rwandans tend to be a bit more reserved whereas Congolese let their emotions out more readily. But for the most part, there is a lot of love here! For example, in text messages between brothers in the congregation, they tend to use the word "dear" frequently in addressing the person, such as "my dear Brother Brian." We're not talking about a standard business letter salutation here! Well, I am very proud to say that I have never, not even once, used the word "dear" in a text message. But I might be influenced to change that position....

The result of expressed affection and greater social and community ties is this: the use of antidepressants is uncommon. In the Chichewa language, in Malawi, they don't even have a word for "depression"! (But as Africans adopt more Western ways, such as the idea of living alone, a common practice in America, they are more prone to depression.)

Another example: there is the matter of men holding hands in public, a practice that seriously offends sensibilities in America. But here in Africa--and I have photographic proof--it is common and no one raises an eyebrow. When I lived in Malawi, there was one time when my Bible student Romain and I had to go somewhere, and as we were walking side by side, he grabbed my hand and held it for what I felt was an uncomfortably long time. I was trying to figure out a way to get out of this situation, but eventually I realized that this was just a gesture of friendship. That is all it means in this part of the world, and if you pull your hand away, it is taken as a slight and rejection of the other person's friendship. Sometimes you see a guy sitting on another guy's lap. This is interpreted completely differently here, if you realize that Africa is most overwhelmingly heterosexual compared to America or Europe. (And in India, I saw 25 people all trying to sit on one standard-size bench!) The American concept of "personal space" is just non-existent in this part of the world.

But getting back to the subject of hugs, okay, when I return to America for a visit, I get hugged by everyone because they haven't seen me in a long time. But that one hug is all I get. Here, in my congregation, there was a time recently when I had an older tablet that was replaced by a newer one that came from my parents. The older tablet had an issue, but not one that couldn't be easily fixed. So I decided to give the tablet to a sister in the congregation who didn't have one. Well, after the meeting when I gave it to her, she was so overwhelmed with gratitude that she hugged me (for quite a while) on the spot. Whoa, it's really hard when your American sensibilities start to kick in!

So the realization has come to me, after over four months of lockdown, that not having the physical presence of other people is very psychologically tough. Sure, you can see them on a computer screen or a phone, but that's just not the same as seeing them in the flesh. And getting hugged.

I can tell you this: if or when this lockdown ends, and we are allowed to use our Kingdom Halls once again, at the first meeting I'm going to hug all the publishers. Every one of them. And tell them I love them.