Unintended consequences: a lesson in cultural context

The world’s more regular involvement with our Middle Eastern neighbors outside our borders and with internationals within borders makes us aware of – I hope – the matter of cultural differences we are a part of.  I recently was put in mind of a lesson I learned head-on over 20 years ago.

In the summer of 1988 I found myself in the south of Egypt on an Air Force mission. One day, we were taken off base to tour the local tourist sights. As we set out for the famous Valley of the Kings and the Temple of Luxor, we had in hand the famous AF box lunch – sandwiches, fruit, chips, water and two cans of soda with the warning note, “Don’t drink the local water.” At lunchtime we ended up sitting in the shade of a building, eating and drinking that lunch.

I looked up at some point and a young girl I judged to be about five years old was standing in front of me. She had big brown eyes, a smile, and her hand was held out toward me. I am a father of three daughters.  What was I going to do? Then a flash of generosity hit me and I gave her my unopened soda. She smiled and left, walking up the sidewalk. Then, as I watched in horror, the unthinkable happened –a group of older boys, maybe 10 years old, jumped her, pushed her to the ground and took the soda from her. As I rose to help, one of our local minders said, “You cannot intervene, you cannot get involved. You cannot give a girl a gift except through her father.”  As a further rebuke, he continued, “Your gift put her in danger.”

Still shocked, saddened, and angry as we were on the bus ride back to our base, I worked to process what had happened. First, I justified my actions. I only wanted to give her something, and her hand was out, after all.  Second, those boys had no right to steal the soda and push her to the ground. Third, why did the minder do nothing about this obvious gross injustice?

It was a lesson with many more to follow about my cultural norms and expectations.  The guilt of “your gift put her in danger” was burned into my memory. My generosity did not trump the absolute of the local street – “You cannot give a gift to a girl except through her father.” My expectations, ego, and lack of understanding of the realities of the host culture harmed the little girl. My motives were meaningless. It did not matter what I thought; I had broken a local moral absolute that I never would have thought of on my own at that point of my life. I learned to ask more questions of minders and other local people. I began to study and reflect on my default assumptions and expectations. They were by no means universal.  I never wanted to hear again, “your gift put her in danger.”