Berkley Center

Upon choosing Arusha, Tanzania, as my study abroad destination, I never expected to be in the center of a religious debate that would affect the way I view myself as a citizen of the world. The aftermath of the attack on the Libyan embassy and the killing of Ambassador Stevens still seemed distant, despite occurring on the same continent.

Perhaps due to willing ignorance or shear naivety, I believed Tanzania was far enough removed from the conflict, and therefore I would never encounter the ideological debate that embroiled the continent. Soon, one could tick off the neighboring countries that were protesting, demonstrating, and responding to the hateful video and the events in Libya. Tanzania, often ignored by Western media, experienced the same discord and instability that its neighbors were experiencing.

In Dar es Salaam, protests were occurring seemingly daily, prompting reports from the State Department to stay away from the mosques and the US embassy—places where demonstrations were cropping up. Arusha, a small town with great governmental influence, was not immune to the conflict. Protests outside the East African Community touched too close to home. Although not violent, the presence of police with riot control gear, tear gas canisters, and AK-47s shook me into the reality, a reality so far removed form anything in the quiet bubble of Georgetown. Here, it became apparent that freedom of expression was guaranteed, but freedom after expression was not.

Walking through the protest, I was immediately assumed to be an American Christian and was a distinct target (admittedly, my “We Are Georgetown” t-shirt did not help my case—not my best wardrobe choice). For the first time in Arusha, I was frightened because of my skin color, nationality, and gender. What were perceived advantages in America, for the ease at which I can blend into the crowd of white, brown-haired women, soon became characteristics that set me apart from the crowd, from the majority. The entirety of the experience forced me to realize that my classmates (from Boston College) and I were no longer in a place where it was facile to blend in and not be noticed.

Coming to Tanzania also revealed the importance placed on religion in many African nations. Despite going to Catholic grade schools and a Jesuit institution, religion has never been the focal point of my life. Here, however, your community is defined by the church you go to, the choir you sing for, or the lack of those things. Although differing religions are tolerated, the idea of the superiority of one or another struck me as a foreign concept.

Perhaps it is the liberal teachings of the Jesuits or my own lack of religion, but I never viewed one religion as having a sort of superiority over another or one belief system having more “rightness” than another. Here, however, the superiority of one religion over the other is a hot topic of debate, seen in the streets, in stores and shops, and even in taxis. In the market, screaming in Swahili focuses on conflicts between the Muslims stealing customers from the Christians, or the rise in the Hindi shop owners, or the questioning of ability of the Maasai taxi drivers.

America’s acceptance of one’s creed seems fairly common, assumed even. The question that kept popping into my mind was, “Why does it matter that my grocer is Muslim? Or my cab driver Christian?” The answer lies in a simple or perhaps judgmental statement: Tanzania is not the United States. Here, in Tanzania and other African nations, religion is a hot topic, dangerous even, with the ability to incite violence and divide a population.

The areas around the two mosques in Arusha are reserved for the Muslim population, replete with stores, bookshops, and other business with the sole purpose of serving that population. Few Christian Africans venture into that area at any time of day, but specifically during prayers. Five times a day, the streets are deserted, save for the few tourists that venture into the area, searching for any signs of the bustling Muslim epicenter that was vibrant just a few short minutes ago.

The same goes for Sunday. Shops close, restaurants shut down in preparation for the daylong Christian services that are a focal point for the majority of Arushans. The importance and divisive nature of religion in African society still surprises me, providing an interesting backdrop in my understanding of the nature of African politics and governance.