1. INTRODUCTION

A look at the statistics of Finland and Tanzania makes it quite clear that the two countries give quite different economic starting points for people and in this case most importantly, musicians. In Tanzania, music equipment is expensive and hard to come by whereas in Finland even most of the elementary schools are fully equipped with musical instruments and studio gear. Music is a crucial part of the Tanzanian lifestyle, which can be seen in the traditions and the modern use of music everywhere: TV’s, radios and speakers, playing music everywhere, all day every day. Still music is not considered to be a good profession. Many young musicians I met told me they’ve had a very hard time convincing their parents of their chosen path. Music is not seen as profitable in the modernizing Tanzania, where many parents wish their children to become doctors, engineers or businessmen. There is only one university department and a few other institutions offering professional education in music for the 62 million Tanzanians. In Finland, there is a university only for studying arts with a full academy of music and a lot of other institutions for studying music professionally. Almost all education is free. Even in Finland a professional career in music is not an easy path economically, but musicians are quite well respected and there is a considerable amount of jobs in the field both public (music teachers, symphony orchestras) and private (instrument teachers, record industry, events). For a Tanzanian, it is very hard to earn a living with only music. There is no music education in most of the schools and govirnment funds for art are scarce. Some bars offer live music for entertainment, but these jobs are quite underpaid, even in Tanzanian terms. A Tanzanian friend of mine, a guitarist, told me he has been paid 10.000 Tsh (equivalent of 4 euros) for a 6-hour gig of playing covers in a bar, which hardly covers the transportation cost back home. 


According to the local musicians I know, the wage for a regular properly paid gig for a professional musician in Tanzania would be around 100.000-200.000 Tanzanian shillings (40-80 euros). The minimum wage for a restaurant gig in Finland according to the Finnish Musician’s Union is 200 euros (Muusikkojen liitto, 2020), equivalent to 500.000 Tanzanian shillings. In both countries, a lot of live music is of course played with lower wages, but these amounts give some kind of image. The prices in Tanzania are roughly 20-50% of those of Finland, depending on the product. In Tanzania, there is no social welfare. 


In my case this means that with a mediocre Finnish income I have high liquidity in Tanzania. Of course this is compensated sometimes with higher prices with local vendors and services according to my looks of European descent, but it doesn’t change the fact that my currency is ridiculously strong. A dinner for two with drinks in a little bit better restaurant would be around 22.000 Tsh, (~9€) in Kinondoni, whereas in central Helsinki you would need to pay at least 40€ (100.000 Tsh). 


I come from a financially sound family and from an early age, my musical endeavors were encouraged and supported. I have never needed to worry about my livelihood because of the support of my family, the society, and the job opportunities I’ve had. If I have ever needed to worry about money it has not endangered my basic needs. These days I can make a living with music. 


3) How do I personally understand my status as a privileged foreigner?


Perceiving how people’s interactions with me were affected by me being a European and understanding the underlining socio-economical facts were bound to have an impact on my behavior and state of mind. The kind of poverty that makes everyday things and basic livelihood a struggle is not something I have to react to in my everyday life in Finland. There are indeed poor people in Finland, but they are not so many, the gap between rich and the poor is not as drastic as in Tanzania, and in Finland, most of the people believe some government welfare system is going to take care of the poor. In Tanzania I had to get used to knowing that I have at least economically lived a hugely privileged life compared to almost anybody that I met. This is not to say that all these people would be suffering. Most of the people I was spending my time with were living full happy lives. 


The mzungu’s guilt on economic privilege is a double-edged sword. When global inequality becomes a factor in personal relationships, it’s natural to feel guilt, sorrow, helplessness, and even shame, even though it’s not your fault. The unfairness is overwhelming: why is it that these people need to struggle for basic needs and healthcare when where I come the situation is completely different? Sometimes it is hard to forget this dynamic of economic status when encountering people. How can I know what is true positivity and what is friendliness according to my status? Is true friendship even possible between people from such unequal and different backgrounds?


On the other hand it may seem that the local people have a sense of communality and joviality that the western culture lacks, regardless of their relative deprivation. Tanzanian people smile a lot and seem to have generally an easy-going laid back attitude to life compared to that of Finland. The welcoming warm attitude of people actually evaporates all the hesitation and doubts about true interaction. This makes you want to forget all about the unpleasant thought of economic privilege and unequal structures. After all, it’s all about the humanity!


The way I see it neither of these lines of thought is good on its own in the long run. Overwhelming guilt and sadness might be good if it leads to some practical actions or changes in behavior that are going to benefit the underprivileged. Even then it must be faced that world is so complex that it is not easy to say what kind of actions actually help to make a change for fairness. The guilt should be felt, of course, but then changed to an understanding and empathy, for the guilt itself doesn’t benefit anybody, including the person who feels it. When it comes to the idolizing social and cultural wealth of African culture compared to western, it is important not to glorify poverty. I do think there is a lot of wisdom in the Tanzanian way of life and f.e. Finnish people would have a lot to learn from it, and maybe even some of the communality can derive from a lack of resources that enforces people to share. Still there is nothing jovial and easy-going about global inequality, extreme poverty, or mortality on diseases that could be cured with medication. Maybe Tanzanian (or African) richness of culture and positive attitude of life are there in spite of poverty, not because of it. True wisdom lies in understanding the complexity in the global world, but not forgetting the genuine human level of interaction.


 4) How do these questions affect my life and work in practice?


In practice, this means that it is crucial to internalize and understand the structures and dynamics which derive from interactions between people coming from different backgrounds. This should lead to a certain sense of responsibility: a lot of power comes from economic privilege. This position should be used in the best possible way in one’s worldview. In this kind of project, there are other factors than money that play a part. I wanted to make sure I would not be taking any credit that did not belong to me, and also wouldn’t hide my influence when it clearly was there for example in the publishing of the album. I also wanted the album to be Kifimbo’s album, a Tanzanian album that celebrates the Tanzanian culture and Kifimbo's musicality with an intercultural exchange with the North as a spice. This of course means leaving space for Kifimbo, the producer Balthazar and the musicians to do their thing without too much interference with everything, but also taking an active part in supporting this and sometimes contributing my own influence when I would feel that it serves the big picture.


Acknowledging these underlying factors of privilege, economic status, and dynamics was not always an easy process, and actually it’s an ongoing one. Still, I would say I have reached a certain conclusion on what is the best way to think of this. It’s important to understand the reality as good as I can, be empathetic and patient (a trait quite useful indeed in intercultural environments) and nevertheless approach people as people, not as representatives of culture or socio-economic position. The hardest part is to accept things as they are even if you don’t like it. Still, acknowledging can actually make human interaction and friendship even better. Understanding where people come from can prevent certain misunderstandings and make interaction and co-operation more sensitive, sensible, and fluent.

 

In this section I will analyze the position of a white foreigner in Tanzania in the context of doing a musical project like ours. The meaning of this section is to understand the underlying social, economic, and even political structures that are inevitably connected to white European activity in Africa, from a relevant point of view to my particular case. This essay-like text draws from my own thoughts and experiences; it is to be read as my own analysis of position and privilege to set up a mindset for the project that is ethical, acknowledging, realistic, dynamic, and practical.


MZUNGU


”Mzungu” is a Swahili word for a white person or a foreigner, used all around the Bantu speaking Great Lakes region in Africa. For me it was a very common word to hear in Tanzania, for it was used in many conversations about me and as my title if someone who wouldn’t know my name wanted to get my attention. According to Wikipedia, the meaning of ”mzungu” is ”someone who roams around” or a wanderer, originally associated with European explorers in the region in the 18th century. ”Zungu” in Swahili means ”to spin around”, and adding letter m at the start of a verb makes it a noun: something or someone doing the act. In practice in modern-day Tanzania mzungu and it’s derivatives are used to describe white people and white culture of any kind and descent. For example, all European languages, especially English can be depicted with the possessive ”kizungu”. Being called mzungu did not feel offensive, but it’s a clear surface level example on how the local people perceived me as a white foreigner.

Coming from a rich welfare country in Europe and having a pale ginger appearance to give it away, being white in Tanzania brings up many questions to contemplate. I’ve divided these thoughts into four sections. 1) How does my (white) appearance affect the way people are interacting with me? 2) What my socio-economical status actually is and how does it differ from the local people I’m working with? 3) How do I personally understand my status as a privileged foreigner? 4) How do these questions affect my life and work in practice?


1) How does my (white) appearance affect the way people are interacting with me? 


Everywhere I went I drew a lot of attention compared to my usual life in Finland. Being anywhere among people, I felt that astonishingly many people were quite eager to talk to me, get to know me, and in many situations do some kind of business with me. This of course has many reasons. A white person is a peculiar being in many places I was spending my time in. Also, it can be said that Tanzanian culture is generally more sociable, open and hospitable compared to that of Finland. The intensity of the attention varied according to my company. If I was alone or accompanied by only white people I would get more expressions of interest and offers for merchandise than if accompanied by Kifimbo or other local people of color. Probably local company made me look less like a tourist, or maybe it just feels weirder to talk to a person in a way you would talk to a misguided foreigner if he’s already accompanied by a local. 

Being white in Tanzania also means that you always got the looks of someone who has money. The level of the supposed wealth may vary according to one’s other traits of appearance and outfit, but basically any white person is assumed to have a lot of money, which relatively talking is more or less true. A white person surely seems like an economical opportunity especially for a person selling souvenirs, but also if you are a musician and the white person happens to be working in the music industry as well. This position surely benefitted my musical work in Tanzania. It was easy to get to know the people in the scene and for example, visit studios, because already according to my appearance people probably thought we could mean some real business. This is not to say that things like Kifimbo’s reputation and musicianship or my personality and social skills wouldn’t be significant reasons for our project’s success, but to acknowledge the factor of privilege. In this situation, this privilege was not only mine, but it also affected the way people perceived our project and the people involved, especially Kifimbo. This surely led to some jealousy for example among other musicians, even though the colleagues around the same scene were mostly very supportive. In the end, it's quite hard to say anything concrete about the underlying attitudes of other people, because this kind of thing is beyond my reach in social understanding of Tanzanian culture and language, but it is surely good to acknowledge this aspect of my role.


2. What my socio-economical status actually is and how does it differ from the local people I’m working with?

 

1.4 ON BEING MZUNGU

Figure 3.1. Economic stats of Tanzania and Finland. Sources: CIA World Factbook, Worldpoverty.io, Macrotrends.net,  Worldometers.info, Worldbank.com

Figure 1.11. The advertisement for our gig in Iringa Boma.