Bless You...or Sorry?

Part of The Invisible Rules of Culture Series

What living in Malawi is teaching me about the things nobody tells you.

Written by Joni Roberts

Traveler, storyteller, and public health advocate

"Sometimes the smallest cultural differences reveal the biggest truths."

There are certain things you never think to question.

Like saying "bless you" when someone sneezes.

It's automatic.

Someone sneezes.

You say, "Bless you."

Or maybe, "God bless you."

You don't stop to wonder where the tradition came from. You certainly don't imagine there's another way to respond.

Then I moved to Malawi.

The first time I sneezed in front of a group of people, someone immediately looked at me and said,

"Sorry."

I remember thinking...

Sorry?

Why are you apologizing?

Did you make me sneeze?

The next time it happened, someone else said the same thing.

"Sorry."

Then it happened again.

And again.

Eventually, I couldn't keep my curiosity to myself.

I asked one of my Malawian friends why people say "sorry" instead of "bless you."

She looked at me with complete confusion.

"What am I blessing you for?"

Now it was my turn to be confused.

I explained that, in Jamaica and later in the United States, saying "bless you" after someone sneezes is simply what we do. Many people trace the tradition back to Europe during outbreaks of plague, when sneezing was associated with illness and blessings became prayers for protection. Whether or not everyone knows that history, the phrase has become part of everyday life.

She listened.

Then shrugged.

"I always thought it was strange that people say that."

We both laughed.

Two people.

Two cultures.

Two completely different assumptions about what should happen after a sneeze.

Fast forward a few weeks.

I was riding back from clinic with one of my colleagues after a long day.

I sneezed.

Without hesitating, she reached over, gently rubbed my shoulder, looked at me, and said,

"Sorry."

That moment stayed with me.

Not because of the word.

Because of the gesture.

It made me realize that I had been paying attention to the language while missing the intention.

Back home, "bless you" has become almost automatic. We say it without thinking.

In Malawi, "sorry" isn't an apology in the way I first understood it.

It's an expression of empathy.

It's someone acknowledging that, for just a moment, something unpleasant happened

to you.

Neither response is right.

Neither is wrong.

They're simply different expressions of the same human instinct.

"I noticed."

"I care."

"I hope you're okay."

Living in another culture has a funny way of exposing the things you assumed were universal.

I never questioned "bless you."

It was simply what people said.

My Malawian friend had never questioned "sorry."

That was simply what people said.

Neither of us realized the other way existed until we met.

That's one of the gifts of living abroad.

It isn't just that you learn new customs.

You begin to notice your own.

The ones that have become so familiar you mistake them for common sense.

Now, every time I sneeze in Malawi and someone says "sorry," I smile.

Not because I think it's funny anymore.

Because I've come to hear what they're actually saying.

Not,

"I'm sorry you sneezed."

But,

"I noticed."

"I hope you're alright."

And honestly...

That's a pretty beautiful thing to say.

What I'm Learning

This week's invisible rule is that care doesn't always sound the same.

Sometimes it's a blessing.

Sometimes it's an apology.

Sometimes it's a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The words may change from one culture to another.

The kindness doesn't.