The Invisible Rules of Culture

“I Don't Arrive in Malawi Looking Like a Foreigner”

Written by Joni Roberts

Traveler, storyteller, and public health advocate

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

"Every culture has rules that no one writes down. You only discover them when you unknowingly break them."

I don't arrive in Malawi looking like a foreigner.

Until I speak.

Then everything changes.

Sometimes people greet me in Chichewa, assuming I'm Malawian. I smile, apologize, and explain that I don't speak the language well enough to carry on a conversation.

Then come the questions.

"Where are you from?"

"Jamaica."

"But you live in America?"

"Yes."

"So...you're American?"

"Well...yes and no."

By the end of the conversation, we've usually settled on one thing.

I'm a foreigner.

I've come to realize that I occupy a unique space here. I look familiar enough to blend into the crowd, but my accent, mannerisms, and expectations quickly reveal that I didn't grow up in Malawi. I'm close enough to be mistaken for local, yet different enough to always stand apart.

It's an interesting place to live.

And it's taught me something I never expected.

Every culture has invisible rules.

Not the rules you read in guidebooks.

Not the ones you learn in language class.

I'm talking about the unwritten rules that shape everyday life.

How people solve problems.

How they express kindness.

What they consider private.

Who is expected to ask questions.

How people care for shared property.

What generosity looks like.

How opportunity is understood.

Nobody teaches you these things because, for the people who grew up here, they aren't rules at all. They're simply the way life is.

The funny thing is, I never noticed the invisible rules of my own culture until I started bumping into someone else's.

Living in Malawi for the third time has been different from my previous visits.

This time, I'm here as a Fulbright Scholar conducting research. My days aren't filled with sightseeing. They're filled with clinics, community meetings, interviews, data collection, and the ordinary rhythms of daily life.

And it's in those ordinary moments that I've found the most extraordinary lessons.

Like the day I found a heater sitting on a store shelf but couldn't buy it because it wasn't

entered into the computer system.

Or the first time someone rubbed my shoulder after I sneezed and said, "Sorry," instead of "Bless you."

Or discovering that asking someone to clean a car and having them actually clean all of it are apparently two different things.

Or realizing that what I throw into my rubbish bin can become the topic of conversation over dinner.

Each experience left me confused at first.

Sometimes frustrated.

Occasionally amused.

Almost always reflective.

When we travel, it's easy to notice the obvious differences.

The food.

The language.

The music.

The clothes.

The landscapes.

What's harder to see are the assumptions we carry with us.

The assumptions that feel so normal we mistake them for universal truth.

I catch myself doing it all the time.

I assume that if something can't be sold, someone will try to fix the problem.

I assume people will ask before making decisions on my behalf.

I assume privacy extends to what's inside my trash can.

I assume customer service means finding a solution.

Those assumptions didn't come from nowhere.

They were shaped by the cultures that shaped me.

Likewise, the people around me have assumptions of their own.

Some assume that because I live in the United States, I have endless resources.

Some assume that dressing nicely means I'm meeting a man.

Some assume that what belongs to the community is everyone's business.

None of us wake up intending to misunderstand one another.

We're simply following rules we didn't know existed.

One of the greatest gifts of living abroad is that it forces you to examine those rules.

Not to decide whose culture is better.

But to ask a different question.

Why does this make sense here?

Sometimes I discover that my way isn't necessarily the better way.

Sometimes I gain a deeper appreciation for practices I took for granted.

And sometimes I still leave scratching my head, wondering what in the world just

happened.

Those moments usually make the best stories.

So that's what this series is about.

Not the postcard version of Malawi.

Not the safari version.

Not even the public health version.

This is about everyday life.

The conversations that linger.

The misunderstandings that become lessons.

The moments that make me laugh after they've stopped making me crazy.

Most of all, it's about what happens when you live in the space between cultures.

Between Jamaica, where I was born.

The United States, where I've built my career.

And Malawi, where I'm spending this Fulbright year learning far more than I ever expected.

I hope these stories make you laugh.

I hope they make you think.

And I hope they encourage all of us to hold our own "normal" a little more loosely.

Because somewhere in the world, the things we take for granted are just as strange as the things we're trying to understand.

What I'm Learning

Every culture has rules that nobody explains because everyone already knows them.

Until you're the one who doesn't.

Welcome to The Invisible Rules of Culture.