For us African students here at Brown, culture shock comes in many forms — some trivial, some funny and others grim. You never know when it might strike. So, when I attended a social event one week into my freshman year, I was thrilled to devour some of the highly acclaimed American cheese and scavenge for some potential friends. I hopped from one student to another, mostly due to the fact that my accent made it impossible for me to maintain a fluent conversation.
I jumped into a conversation with Joshua, who was in the midst of saying, “His name is Max” to Kim. Kim asked, “What is he?” Joshua replied, “He is a Boston terrier.” I knew that Max was a name, and I assumed that he must be a very interesting person. But I was not acquainted with the geography of Boston. I assumed that this Boston Terrier region must have been pretty important since Max lived there. So I asked, “Do you live with Max?” Joshua said yes.
Four weeks later, Joshua invited me to visit his home. It happened to be 20 minutes away from Brown, and I was excited to go meet Max in Boston Terrier. We arrived at Joshua’s house, and upon opening the door, Joshua called, “Max! I have a visitor for you!” I waited. Then this mean-looking, beastly dog came running toward me. I took a few steps back, preparing to run, before Joshua assured me that Max was friendly. Ha! I thought. Max is a dog. They name dogs here! Max is friendly!
In Kenya, it is not unusual to name dogs. In fact, a dog knows its name even before it starts barking — some joke that the name is imprinted in its DNA. All dogs are called Simba, the Swahili word for lion. No one remembers when our Simba was born — we can only surmise how old he is. Max the Boston terrier is five years and five days old. He just had his birthday last week. I offered him some American cheese for his birthday.
I have been made aware, from my experiences with Max, that dogs have describable traits. I will compare Max’s and Simba’s personalities, and I will show you that Simba is content with his life, just like Max is. We do take care of Simba.
Joshua describes Max as friendly, cuddly, therapeutic, needy, attentive, obedient and some other traits that I am skeptical about. For example, take the suggestion that Max is loyal. From my brief interactions and experiences, I know I would not need anything other than a bone as enticement to get Max to go with me forever to my college room in New Pembroke.
Now, let’s summarize some of Simba’s traits, some of which might confirm your biased notions: attentive to detail, loyal, friendly, obedient, respectful, brave, cautious and ferocious. Simba is not needy. Contrary to Western notions, Simba is neither a guard dog, a home dog, a hunting dog nor a pet. Simba is a versatile friend who is ever true to his primal being.
Max gets bathed often. He runs around the field smelling all nice and shampoo-y, aimlessly wagging his tail in the air. This is warranted. Simba never gets such a thorough bath — he is content with an occasional rain shower or a jump in the river, or, worst-case scenario, a veterinarian’s scrub.
Max is part of a family, and he lives in a house. He sleeps on the couch, watches TV, is vegetarian, sits on the backseat of an Audi and even has Joshua reach into the depths of his canine, germ-infested mouth to pull off some veggies that get stuck during meals. Max has a human collect after him every time! Max lives a charmed life.
Simba is forever free. He is not burdened by a name that humans use to baptize both themselves and other species. Instead, he embraces a name that defines who he is. Simba can visit his dog friends whenever he wants to chew bones or bask in the African sun. Simba strolls in the night in his pack, getting a kick out of tussling with wild cats or dogs. Every so often, Simba’s bravery will be tested when he encounters a hyena or leopard — then he knows it’s time to pull his tail under his legs and run like a bat from hell. Simba is independent, aggressively carnivorous — true to his canine identity — and knows how to take care of himself after visiting the loo.
There are many misconceptions about Africa, but I will not let the notion that we do not take care of our animals taint my continent. I hope it is now clear that the misinformed notions about our relationship with animals result from a cultural misunderstanding. Western people look at the situation that Simba is in through their own lens. They see that Simba is not wearing a cute shawl, getting shaved or groomed at a spa, getting health insurance or playing with expensive ninja turtle toys, and they assume that Simba is lonely, unhealthy and unloved.
At the end of last semester, Max came to Brown, and we got to play on the Main Green. He loved running around aimlessly since he does not get any other chance to be like Simba, scurrying the vast savannahs. He looked at me, and I could see in his eyes that he knew all too well that I know how to take care of dogs. “Max,” I said, “I will not be able to buy you toys or get you health insurance in Kenya. You will need to be carnivorous again, and you have to forget the occasional shampoo baths and spa retreats you get every two months.” Max took two steps back only to find Joshua, who reassured him that, with a Brown degree, he will be able to pamper him until his canine days are over.
Daniel Murage ’17 can be reached at daniel_murage@brown.edu. Please send responses to this opinion to letters@browndailyherald.com and other op-eds to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
