More than Words
It’s a simple expression. It is pervasive here in Tanzania, so fundamental to basic communication that it is hard for me to imagine a Tanzanian who is not fluent in its production and interpretation. For many with backgrounds rooted in the diaspora, it is a familiar sound. For the uninitiated, it fills an expressive gap that might not have been apparent before exposure to its utility. One of pure, unadulterated emotion. Annoyance. Disapproval. Impatience. Disdain. Pain. Academics describe it as a “velaric, ingressive airstream involving closure at two points in the mouth.”
The French call it “le tchip.” In English it is referred to as “teeth-sucking” or “kissing the teeth.” Here, I call it the Tanzanian “Tsk.”
My family is Ethiopian. They occasionally “Tsk-Tsk” in an expression of pity, a double tap version of the Tanzanian sound. I also grew up in an area and school where sucking one’s teeth was a commonly grounds for getting in trouble with a teacher or a beating from a relative. But Tanzanians seem to take it to another level. The sound is inescapable. Despite years of exposure to similar expressions, none of them have really become part of my daily verbal repertoire. But after just 12 weeks in Tanzania, it slips out without thought, an expression of otherwise repressed emotion.
Hofstede’s Cultural Dimensions Theory, a framework for cross-cultural understanding and communication, uses 6 dimensions to analyze cultural values: individualism vs collectivism, uncertainty avoidance, power distance (strength of social hierarchy), masculinity vs femininity (task orientation vs person orientation), long-term orientation, and indulgence vs self-restraint. According to studies done by Hofstede and others, Tanzanian culture is highly collectivist, feminine, short term oriented, and characterized by high levels of power distance and restraint.
And that is why I think this form of expression is so important in Tanzania. In general, Tanzanians appear to be a very easy going people. I knew the words “Hakuna Matata” were in Swahili, but I had no idea that people actually said it, let alone almost constantly. In a lot of ways I think it is fair to say this attitude truly exists, but I can also see the moments when this easy air is threatened: in meetings, in disagreements, when one too many things don’t go someone’s way. But, due to the prevailing go-with-the-flow-attitude, the extremely hierarchical social and business interactions, and an extreme aversion to confrontation or conflict, negative feelings are often left bottled up with no socially acceptable way to verbalize the problem.
That is where the “Tsk” comes in. A small bit of emotional release for the pressure building in the aggrieved party, but one which carries no verbalized forms of dissent or disrespect (or at least less than the equivalent words would carry). Everyone hears it, but no one ever responds to it, and if you are lucky the other person will take your feelings into account and change their mind. As an outsider, it is especially important to be aware of in situations where you unknowingly offend or negatively affect someone, especially if they feel that you have some form of elevated social ranking compared to them. I’ve had several encounters with Tanzanians who internally disagreed with me but only gave positive verbal responses back, releasing a quick “Tsk” between utterances of “Ndyio”, “Hakuna Matata”, “Hamna Shida”, and other affirmations. After realizing what was going on and suggesting alternatives, they instantly brightened up. Used to a generally more direct problem solving style in America, it took a while to get used to this new form of conflict resolution.
On a few rare occasions, I’ve experienced someone releasing a stream of alternating Tsk’s and deep sighs in an even stronger emotional response. In these cases, however, it is from extreme admiration or adoration. I think most of a moment when a microbiologist in Korogwe was telling me about a former professor he worked with:
“Tsk, sigh, he was such a great man. He was just so Tsk, Sigh so caring and Tsk, sigh, just such a great man. ”
It was a very strong outpouring of emotion and pure positive regard. Yet, the frankness of it all struck me as strange and almost uncomfortable as another common practice, men holding hands, often does to travelers from the West. I guess America’s culture has its own way of repressing our outward expressions, but for affection instead of disdain.
I’ve picked up quite a few habits from my time here. Even in the midst of a completely English conversation I occasionally “Eh” to show attention or urge a speaker to continue, “Ah” or “Haiya” in affirmation, and drop “Pole Sana” instead of the more linguistically appropriate “I’m sorry.”
But none of them have been as crucial to navigating and understanding Tanzania and its people as that little, “velaric, ingressive airstream.”
