In the early 2000s, when the exodus of nationals from the largest country in Eastern Asia began trooping to the shores of the former Gold Coast country in West Africa, the scene was set for a fascinating cultural exchange. These new arrivals, with their distinct customs and behaviors, soon became a topic of interest and sometimes controversy among the local population. One particular habit that drew widespread attention was their seemingly unhygienic practice of spitting saliva indiscriminately, without regard for the appropriateness of their surroundings.
As a young person growing up in this environment, I found this behavior particularly strange. It stood in stark contrast to the norms I had been taught. Why was this so? My reasoning was deeply rooted in a common health problem: sore throats. According to the Mayo Clinic, the most common cause of a sore throat (pharyngitis) is a viral infection, such as a cold or the flu.
In my African home, where scientific explanations for illnesses were often secondary to traditional wisdom, sore throats had their own unique lore. I learned from an early age that sore throats were believed to be caused by spitting on human feces. This belief was so ingrained that I developed a habit of being extremely cautious about where I spat, a habit that persists to this day.
In addition to her stories about spitting, my grandmother also shared practical health remedies that were rooted in traditional knowledge. She advised using a common kitchen ingredient, salt, which was believed to cleanse vegetables and wounds or cuts of any bacteria when added to water. She recommended adding salt to lukewarm water to gargle the mouth when suffering from a sore throat, with the belief that you were suffering from a sore throat as a result of spitting on human feces. According to her, spitting on human feces somehow caused the feces to make their way into your throat, causing the sore throat. By gargling with salt water, it was believed you could cleanse the feces from your throat and promote healing. Moreover, she suggested adding lime to warm water to drink, which she said would aid the healing process and the removal of the feces more quickly.
I must admit these were the only remedies known to me to relieve a sore throat growing up as a child. Thinking about it today, I realize that traditional African wisdom may have some scientific basis, though it may not be documented with scientific proofs. Today, a lot of medical writings and practices suggest that taking in vitamin C when suffering from a sore throat aids the healing process, and it is widely believed that lime contains substantial vitamin C.
As I grew older and became an adult, my education provided me with a more scientific understanding of sore throats and other health issues. I learned about the various viruses and bacteria that could cause throat infections and how they spread. However, the traditional beliefs I had grown up with were not easily discarded. They had become a part of my identity and the way I navigated the world.
Reflecting on these experiences, I realize that the clash between traditional beliefs and modern scientific understanding is not unique to my culture. It is a common thread in many societies around the world. The tension between old and new ways of thinking often creates a rich collection of stories and lessons that define who we are.
My view is that some aspects of traditional African wisdom are designed to instill a sense of caution and respect. These beliefs often shape behavior by putting a certain fear in you not to engage in specific actions. At the same time, they serve a larger purpose: they help maintain good manners, support community health, and protect the environment.
One vivid memory from my childhood stands out. I was about eight years old, playing with my cousins on the outskirts of our village. We were carefree, running and laughing, until one of my friends, Dodo, spat on the ground without a second thought. Almost immediately, an elderly woman who was passing by scolded him harshly, warning him of the consequences. Her stern words left a lasting impression on all of us, reinforcing the idea that spitting indiscriminately was not only unhygienic but also dangerous.
This incident, coupled with my family’s teachings, made me acutely aware of my surroundings whenever I felt the need to spit. Even during my teenage years, when rebelliousness often led peers to challenge traditional norms, I found myself adhering to this particular rule. It was a testament to the power of cultural beliefs and how they can shape one’s behavior long after their practical relevance has faded.
Today, as an adult, I appreciate the complexity of this cultural dynamic. While I fully understand the medical reasons behind sore throats, I also respect the traditional wisdom that guided my early years. It has taught me to be mindful of my actions and their potential impact on my health and the environment.
The arrival of the Eastern Asian nationals to our shores was more than just a migration; it was an encounter that challenged and enriched our cultural landscape. Their practices, initially perceived as foreign and unhygienic, prompted introspection and dialogue about our own habits and beliefs. It was a reminder that cultural exchange, even when it involves seemingly trivial matters like spitting, can lead to a deeper understanding and appreciation of our shared humanity.
In conclusion, the story of sore throats and spitting is a small but significant chapter in the broader narrative of cultural interaction and adaptation. It highlights the ways in which traditional wisdom and modern science can coexist, each offering valuable insights into our health and behavior. As I continue to explore this delicate dance between the old and the new, I carry with me the lessons of my youth, enduringly mindful of the wisdom that lies in both the past and the present.