16 | Coca-colonization

…and Pepsi is no exception. 

Trips to the South Sudanese bush are exactly what one expects. It’s unbearably hot, and there are snakes, spiders, and scorpions. In the rainy season there’s too much water, during the dry period not enough. 

A stroll through the market. Rice, beans, salt, oil packed in small plastic pouches to keep unit price affordable for households. Bamboo, timber, a few pieces of scrap metal. It appears chaotic, but somehow everything looks like it has found its place in this small vendor street in the incomprehensible vastness of the Nile basin. Almost everything. One piece of the puzzle seems like it just doesn't quite fit. It’s a bit hard to notice — as if the alien object has learned how to blend into its surroundings, like a chameleon. Busted: the plastic chairs. They come in all kinds of colours, but are basically the same odd design. Just think of a plastic chair … exactly, that one. (You can look at the picture above, if you struggle with imagination.)

Those seemingly boring and debatably rather ugly plastic chairs deserve a few words:

In a way this chair represents equality, inscribed in a piece of furniture. Everyone uses them. High ranked military officials, market vendors, cleaners, cooks, professors, NGO workers, politicians — everyone. They are comfortable and cheap enough, so most people can afford them. The chairs are lightweight and can be carried around easily. Plus, they don’t get soaked when it rains and can be cleaned from dust in a matter of seconds. And: The quality of those chairs is horrendous. They break easily and are difficult to repair. Once cracked, the plastic pieces can hardly be reused. Those chairs pollute the fertile soil across wide parts of Africa. And besides the environmental impacts, what are the cultural implications?

The juxtaposition of the South Sudanese bush and the plastic chair, as described in the beginning of this text, may not be as divided as I made it sound. This chair seems foreign only from a certain point of view. And so do Coca-Cola (and Pepsi), Christianity, and languages like English and French. Over time, local cultures have absorbed and integrated what once seemed alien. 

This phenomenon creates a rather difficult situation: The plastic chairs and Coca-cola cans appear out of place in the context of the small market in the South Sudanese bush. But take those US-American and European artefacts away, and we are left with a puzzle with a missing piece. The scenario seems slightly odd, either way. 

I will leave us with a few questions: 

How do tokens of Westernization influence local, especially rural, cultures in colonized countries? Companies like Coca-Cola undeniably portray an idealized American lifestyle. This homogenization of culture, does it endanger or enrich cultural identity, and how?

Yours puzzled, 

Markus