WHICH WEB DO I SURF?

Yesterday, I got a phone call from my wife, Jana that required my immediate attention. One of our children had a minor medical issue arise and we needed to think through the implications. Next week, will be a school break; and a trip to Nairobi or Kampala to visit a doctor while shopping, seeing the movies, and taking in the night life sounds like a pleasant break. I hate to admit it, but the timing was impeccable. I wish my kids would always time their crises this well.

Jana quickly got on the phone to her Kenyan roots to see if any doctors she knew would be available. All that she called were out of town for the week. Thus it was my turn to surf my Uganda relationship network. Thank God for mobile phones and the cheap price of an SMS.

I knew the doctor I wanted to see, but it had been 5 years since we had seen him last. I’ve gone through 3 computers since then so his e-mail address is out of date and no longer in my address book. I don’t know how many times I’ve changed phones in 5 years so I don’t have his phone number either.

However, I still possess an African equivalent to a Gold Master Card. I have lots of friends. Surely, one of my friends could put me in touch with another old friend. Thus my relationship debt accountant went into 30 minute frenzy.

First, let’s try the neighborhood route. I scanned my phone addresses and found a Uganda friend who lived in the same neighborhood as my old doctor friend. I fired off an SMS asking if my doctor’s neighbor had my doctor’s contacts. I sat for a minute with no reply, and started to smell the aroma of Khana Kazana.

I can’t let this opportunity slip by me. If not a neighbor, maybe a professional acquaintance would know the number. I sent an SMS to another Uganda doctor friend, but again I received no quick reply. I started longing to listen to a Uganda radio debate, and knew I needed to try another route.

Maybe, I could find another consumer? I quickly found the contact of a Uganda friend with children. Maybe, she would have my doctor friend’s contacts. Off went my next SMS. A few minutes later my phone was still silent. I counted the grocery bill I’d save at Uchumi; and decided I need to try another route.

I hated myself for my next move, but I did it anyway. I sent a note to a friend who shared my doctor’s ethnicity and economic class. Surely, he’d know how to find my doctor friend. Again, my phone was silent; and I remembered the last time I had taken in a movie. It was time for a desperate measure.

My doctor friend had grown up in Dar Es Salaam during the 1970’s. I knew a couple others in Uganda who had spent the 70’s in Dar. Surely they’d know the contact. Off went my last attempt to find my doctor friend’s contacts.

Then the phone rang. My clever bride had discovered a new web of information called Google. She typed in our doctor friend’s name, hit enter, and within seconds had the contact. A few minutes later she was on the phone, and she called to inform me that the appointment was made while I was still waiting for my relationship web to produce. (However, 30 minutes later I had 3 replies with the information I required.)

Now I get why this ICT stuff makes so much sense. I’m a dinosaur relying on my complex web of relationships to keep me informed and solve my problems. If I fail to keep some piece of information surely there is a friend who has just what I need. I may replace my computer or phone when it gets old, but I’ll keep banking in social debt and making friends until I die.

Maybe, I need to get on board. Friends are more than just a network of personal problem solvers. The internet can replace them as my network of information. In fact, maybe both my friends and I would be better people if we relied a little less on each other for personal problem solving. I think this ICT stuff may have a point.

Yet, Google and its cousin Face Book will never do some key parts of life. They can’t share a meal, hold me while I grief, dance with me in celebration, and give me a discrete piece of advice. Nor can these ICT wonders tell me who should be my business partners. Discernment and good judgment are still best face to face.

Next week, I’ll be in Kampala making sure my daughter is well. I’ll trust an old doctor friend who has shown himself trustworthy. I won’t trade that for anything. However, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll give my friends the space to be friends, and use them as my savings account a little less. Hopefully, we’ll all be better people in the end.

Come run with me.

Dave Jenkins