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Hello! Is the force with you? (That's my village's greeting.) I hope this email finds you all well. Its been a while since I've written. I was in the states on vacation in July, and since being back in Burkina Faso, I've been busy wrapping up some projects and starting some new ones. On the whole, life here has reached a stable plateau of normalcy for me. And so I'm horrified as I begin to write this email that I will bore you to tears. I'm sorry in advance! I have no concept of what is interesting and what isn't anymore!
I've spent past emails sharing stories and my own personal thoughts on the life of an American living abroad in West Africa. I'd love to talk more about Burkina itself in this email. The head of Peace Corps' Africa Division recently flew in from Washington to meet with volunteers in Burkina Faso, and one of his first questions, having never been in the country before was, "What makes Burkina Faso unique?" Based on one recent experience, I think I can offer an answer.
Here's the scene: I was in the capital city, Ouagdougou, attending a workshop designed to prepare current volunteers and Burkinabe language trainers for the new batch of Peace Corps volunteers who will be arriving on September 27th. We had sessions througout the week-long workshop, mainly serving to help the Burkinabe language trainers learn how to approach teaching Americans. Internationally, Peace Corps is well-known for its intensive language training programs, so it was cool to see how one country went about building it's program.
One of the last sessions of the week was on Diversity. To begin the session, a Burkinabe trainer was asked to stand up in front of the room beside another Burkinabe trainer. One was from the Bobo ethnic group, the other was from the Fulani ethnic group. They both rose from their seats and walked to the front of the room, all the while mocking each other under their breaths and calling each other "slaves", "unintelligent", "lazy", and "inferior". The other Burkinabe trainers in the room were dying laughing over this. The volunteers were laughing, but uncomfortably. The Bobo man was asked to talk about his ethnic group, its history and values. He lists all of the aspects of being Bobo that make them superior. The Fulani man then begins to speak about his tribe. All of the Burkinabe in the room are now roaring with laughter. They're all saying, "The Fulani just care about their cows!" "They're all thin and their skin is so dark, and they live like nomads! Hahahaha!" Even the Fulani man is finding this hilarious. The Americans in the room just sit there...nervously smiling. What are these two Burkinabe men doing? They are making fun of each other's ethnicity. They barely know each other.
Then, the Peace Corps volunteers are asked to do a similar exercise, and talk about the differences between Americans. Two volunteers were singled out: (1) my friend Omar, who lived in Saudi Arabia for 10 years and whose parents are Pakistani, and (2) Diego, whose parents are Columbian, and who was born and raised in the Bronx. They admit that, as friends for more than a year, they can tease each other with comments like, "Your parents are terrorists" to Omar, and "Oh look Diego, your family's in the news again for bringing drugs into the country". But they would never in a million years crack jokes like that on a first encounter. Americans, as we all point out, are very proud of our roots, and hold them guarded close to our hearts.
The Burkinabe find this bizzare. Can we not laugh at each other? How do Americans know when the moment is right to begin poking fun? Should they not make jokes about Jackie Chan to the new asian-american volunteers who are arriving on September 27th? No, the volunteers reply, that would not be a good idea. They would probably not be amused. The Burkinabe smile, and nod. And the volunteers in the room do to. We all sat there quietly for a moment, contemplating this difference in cultures. And, as you can imagine with all of the news we get over here about conflicts between Christians and Muslims lately, I'm sure that most of the volunteers in the room, like myself, considered how incredible the Burkinabe were in this one single aspect of their culture. What would the world be like if everyone laughed and shrugged it off like them, if everyone took life, and themselves, a little less seriously?
Burkina Faso is one of the three least developed countries in the world, and has held that title fairly steadily for the past decade. The statistics always paint a bleak picture: There's a 40% chance when you are born in Burkina Faso that you will not live to see your 40th birthday. Over 6.5 children on average are born to one woman. About 90% of the population is comprised of subsistence farmers, but only 12% of the country's land is even arable. Female adult literacy rate is 15%. Surf the web, and I'm sure you'll find more stats like this. And yet, as underdeveloped as they are, as simple as their mud homes are and their way of living is, and as developed as we Americans are, they are the ones who build mosques next to cathedrals. They are the ones who hold hands walking down the road. They are the ones who wave "hi" no matter where they are or what they may be doing. They are the ones who allow themselves to poke fun at one another, because they are the ones that believe that community is more important than the individual, that muslim or christian, "we're all heading to the same place" as one of my Burkinabe friends puts it.
In this one aspect of their culture alone, I am humbled to even be here. This area of the world is often painted in such a depressing light as being poor, disease-ridden, a "problem to be solved", etc. And I'm not about to deny the troubles Burkina Faso is up against. But for a moment, you've got to stop and consider how many people have died from wars of religion or ethnic-cleansing, how many global problems have arisen out of greed, how much is changed for the worse in the name of progress. And then who's the better country? Who rises to the top?
Well, I hope this e-mail conveys to you some of the respect I have for this small, random country I was assigned to work in. They say that Peace Corps volunteers always get a lot more out of the experience than they could ever give back to the country. More than ever, I find this to be very true.
Beautiful isn't it? Please pardon me while I blow my nose. Sniff, sniff.
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