I have the strangest job. This was my sentiment walking out of a two-hour meeting with one our partners in Shashamene during my recent trip to Ethiopia. We had spent that time discussing some programs and some general aspects of our partnership. As Americans, we have the privilege of not having to learn other languages to conduct most business around the world. The leaders we work with in Ethiopia all speak English at varying levels of competence. They’ve had to learn several languages and we appreciate the time and effort this has required. If they hadn’t, our organization would not be able to function as it does. Nevertheless, our attempts at an English conversation are a verbal equivalent of fence-painting. In order to ensure real communication has occurred, several steps are required. If I’m looking for answers to some questions, it goes like this.

1. Question. This is usually stated in several ways before the listener ‘gets’ what I’m asking and begins answering. It’s not that hard to tell if the first attempt was unsuccessful. A ‘yes’ following an open-ended question is a common indicator.
2. Answer. Depending on the detail, this may or may not require a follow-up.
3. Reiteration:
   1. If no follow-up is needed, I tell them what I think they said. Like the ‘question’, I usually have to ‘reiterate’ several times to make sure I know that they know I know what they said.
   2. If follow up is needed, we go back to #1 with questions to get clarity. This process is repeated until we all seem to agree that we all know what we all said.

That process is just for questions. If I want to make a suggestion, or give direction, a similar set of steps is also necessary. Which means, a rather small amount of information can take a long time to process together. And lest I sound like this is a problem for us English speakers, I am keenly aware that our friends are just as confused with us as we are with them in these situations.

That’s the language barrier, which was present as usual in my recent visit. Next you have cross-cultural challenges. Language gets mixed in here, but more in the nuanced meaning of words and phrases that don’t translate clearly. The culture factor can be summed up in one phrase: We do things differently. These ‘things’ come out in conversations, in management practices, in family dynamics, in conflict resolution. The cultural phenomena at play in my latest trip was ‘indirectness’, a common feature of Ethiopian communication. This quality can be a welcome relief from the straightforward American way of telling it ‘like it is’. Ethiopians are known for being pleasant and gentle. Even in moments of excitement, they demonstrate a calm demeanor. Indirectness is a blessing, until you need directness. Until you need to get an answer to how or why a ‘problem’ came to be. The trouble we encountered this time was that indirectness had kept a problem in the dark for over a year. Here I was, sitting in an office in Shashamene working  through a cultural barrier that took overcoming a language barrier to figure out. And in my American way of problem-solving, the only path towards resolution was through directness, which is a cultural barrier for our Ethiopian partners. Follow all that?

If that just sounds like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, then you get my point. Its exhausting. And maddening. And absolutely necessary. This wasn’t my first trip on the merry-go-round of cross-cultural communication. But it had been a while, and I naively thought we had risen to a place of maturity with our partners that such difficult conversations and events were in the past. The ‘problem’ we were dealing with was definitely serious and could be detrimental to some of our efforts, although we are working on a responsible solution and believe all will turn out for good.

Some who have heard about or participated in these difficult situations have said they would have already quit the relationship with the Ethiopian partners involved. I don’t blame them. It feels highly unproductive at times. But moments of reflection help put things in perspective and bring a few truths to light. First, no amount of cultural progress I may possess can overcome my human fallenness and therefore recognizing God’s grace for me and our friends is non-negotiable. The Western directness that leads to honesty and efficiency, which I believe is good and the product of a Biblical worldview, can make me act like an insensitive jerk who comes across as accusatory. And when that happens, boy could I use a little of that calm, indirect, Ethiopian nature. The positive aspects of my cultural aren’t a license for arrogance.

Additionally, If our programs and relationships truly are for the good of our Ethiopian partners and the communities served, they deserve our unwavering commitment. Challenging communication and setbacks should be expected, even welcomed, and embraced with patience. There may come a day when one of our initiatives or relationships break down beyond repair, but we should exhaust every option before we cut our losses and move on.

I tied myself up in knots, mentally and emotionally trying to process the meetings and conversations I had in Shashamene in June, considering the best way forward. I can’t help but see similarities between our relationships in Ethiopia and those here at home. I’m not sure if pink and blue earphones would be appropriate to represent the cultural differences I encounter, but the mantra Sara and I learned in the Love and Respect marriage course sure does: They’re not wrong, just different. Sure, we make mistakes, intentionally and unintentionally. But much of what surfaces as trouble in our relationships is because we view things differently. Same here as it is 9,000 miles away. And with our kids…and just about any meaningful relationship.

And thus, they require and deserve the same kind of grace, patience, and perseverance. Its easier to talk about and write in a reflection, than actually carry out. But these experiences in Ethiopia help remind me that I must.