I dont know why you say goodbye, I say hello (part 2)
This is a continuation of the previous entry. Im trying to do multiple posts because of length.
Scroll down and read part one first...
I still take baby steps. But I am learning the way of this country. It forces extreme amounts of independence and self reliance and a certain amount of thick skin.
One major way that Ive changed is how I handle conflict. Im less afraid of pissing people off. In Burkina, if you dont voice what you want, no one else will for you. Because of their extremely different perspective, the only way you get understood is by speaking plainly. Anything less is a session rife with ignorant mockery.
This past week or so something snapped in me. The extreme situation of nothing getting done on my house goaded me into it maybe.
After three months of asking the COGES when they were going to build my hangar (or porch), they vowed to do it on my Birthday (February 4). A month later nothing had happened.
Also, I had been asking my clinic manager for a month to get the guy in the next village over to make me a table (no one makes them in my village). I described exactly what I wanted and didnt think I needed to insist I meet with him directly (esp after my experience with the Mason, who said he would come "in the morning" each day, so I wait around in the morning in my house thinking he would actually come, FOR A WEEK.)
Anyway, after a month he tells me that the guy hadnt STARTED making the table because and I quote "he didnt know if I wanted a small table or a big table."
So he lost my business.
Then I went and asked the 5 or so women from Cote D'Ivoire who apparently thought that my latrine and my shower area belongs to them because they had been using it since they got there to the extent that I couldnt even get privacy to go to the bathroom. I went and asked them not to use my latrine anymore.
I was polite. They never asked me to use my latrine or shower, and I still take the fact that their behavior didnt change very much at first, and then hardly at all as a complete lack of respect and I mostly refuse to talk to them beyond minimal politeness.
Anyway, they laughed in my face when I asked them nicely. Something about the Nassara, ha ha, in Lyele.
Mockery is a tool here. They use it on me and they use it on each other.
Then I kicked one of the kids out of my house the other day for calling me a Nassara.
Everyone Burkinabe here will tell you that its not meant as a term of disrespect. However, as a term chosen by the majority to describe a very small minority in this country (try: there are only about 400 Americans in Burkina) it is almost impossible for it not to fit the capacity of a racial slur, at least sometimes.
This instance, it was definately used as a mockery. She did it three times in the span of about 5 or 10 minutes. I warned her twice. The third time I kicked her out. Something snapped. I surprised myself.
A few days before that I had threatened to leave the village if the COGES didnt build my hangar during their last meeting. This resulted in about half of the necessary materials being brought to my house as of a week later. So I went out for a few days hunting them down. First they claimed the materials werent ready. Then the president was sick. Then the Vice President hurt his foot. On and on.
After attempting to call the bureau, them having no one there to talk to me during regular business hours about my problem and putting me on hold when cell phone calls are very expensive here. Them saying theyd call me back, when service is so shoddy in my village and no phone booths. I went home. Cried my eyes out.
Then I went to my nurse and really threatened to leave. I gave him the rest of the papers from my training and told him that if he had any questions to ask me now because I might be in America by the time the next meeting happens. It was such a hard ass thing to do looking back on it.
I told him I couldnt be at my house without shade when temperatures are climbing to 110 degrees Fahrenheit each day. It was an ultimatum really. I wasnt positive I would make good on it.
Im meeting my parents in Paris in April, I am definitely staying in Burkina until then because of the loss of plane ticket.
More and more it is becoming clear to me that the COGES need to build the capacity within themselves to carry out a plan in some sort of semi timely fashion. But my job is not to build their capacity to build me a hangar before hot season.
And honestly, when they arent motivated to do some health activity, thats fine. Bottom line, its their community. If they dont want to change things, its not my fault. Its not like any of them can fire me. But when its about my house or something that I need, thats when I cant deal with the frustration.
My hangar was finished the day after my bout of anger at the nurse, by the way. TWO of the SEVEN COGES came with the second half of the materials and built it in an hour, revealing to me how flimsy their excuses were.
The next project is to get someone to smooth my walls, which are extremely bumpy and covered with cracks. This I need for my sanity. I think Im developing a yellow wallpaper complex. They already gave me their excuse against building a wall around my part of the courtyard. They just dont understand the extreme lack of privacy that comes from being (probably) the first and (definitely) the only white person living in their village. After seven months of this, it has really begun to make me angry.
All that said, it looks like Im doing the first sensibilization in village on the 8th for International Womens Day, on family planning. I am attempting to stay optimistic about the COGES claiming they are going to help me.
I did buy a Womens Day panya (piece of material you wrap around as a skirt.) It is wonderful gaudy Africanness.
But in this way I am torn. Between wanting to stay to see what I can build here, and the impending impossibility of me staying, when nothing progresses with my house, when the impossibility of living here becomes as a novelty at best, and a fetish at worst, when it beats down.
Here, I am a novelty at best, and a fetish at worst. But when I saw Colleen crying before she got on the plane, in the airport that looked horribly developed to me now, and horribly provincial and dinky when I first arrived, I realized just how far I had come, and glimpsed at the gravity and weight of this experience on my life and my future. I realized how much I really did want to see how much more I could push my limits, and the best way for me to do that now, is to stay.
Amanda was really crazy happy to see Kevin. A lot of people stared at the spectacle of them making out in the airport. He looked well fed and ecstatic. We all went back to the PC house and ate amazing cake. I hope Colleen will be happy.
Scroll down and read part one first...
I still take baby steps. But I am learning the way of this country. It forces extreme amounts of independence and self reliance and a certain amount of thick skin.
One major way that Ive changed is how I handle conflict. Im less afraid of pissing people off. In Burkina, if you dont voice what you want, no one else will for you. Because of their extremely different perspective, the only way you get understood is by speaking plainly. Anything less is a session rife with ignorant mockery.
This past week or so something snapped in me. The extreme situation of nothing getting done on my house goaded me into it maybe.
After three months of asking the COGES when they were going to build my hangar (or porch), they vowed to do it on my Birthday (February 4). A month later nothing had happened.
Also, I had been asking my clinic manager for a month to get the guy in the next village over to make me a table (no one makes them in my village). I described exactly what I wanted and didnt think I needed to insist I meet with him directly (esp after my experience with the Mason, who said he would come "in the morning" each day, so I wait around in the morning in my house thinking he would actually come, FOR A WEEK.)
Anyway, after a month he tells me that the guy hadnt STARTED making the table because and I quote "he didnt know if I wanted a small table or a big table."
So he lost my business.
Then I went and asked the 5 or so women from Cote D'Ivoire who apparently thought that my latrine and my shower area belongs to them because they had been using it since they got there to the extent that I couldnt even get privacy to go to the bathroom. I went and asked them not to use my latrine anymore.
I was polite. They never asked me to use my latrine or shower, and I still take the fact that their behavior didnt change very much at first, and then hardly at all as a complete lack of respect and I mostly refuse to talk to them beyond minimal politeness.
Anyway, they laughed in my face when I asked them nicely. Something about the Nassara, ha ha, in Lyele.
Mockery is a tool here. They use it on me and they use it on each other.
Then I kicked one of the kids out of my house the other day for calling me a Nassara.
Everyone Burkinabe here will tell you that its not meant as a term of disrespect. However, as a term chosen by the majority to describe a very small minority in this country (try: there are only about 400 Americans in Burkina) it is almost impossible for it not to fit the capacity of a racial slur, at least sometimes.
This instance, it was definately used as a mockery. She did it three times in the span of about 5 or 10 minutes. I warned her twice. The third time I kicked her out. Something snapped. I surprised myself.
A few days before that I had threatened to leave the village if the COGES didnt build my hangar during their last meeting. This resulted in about half of the necessary materials being brought to my house as of a week later. So I went out for a few days hunting them down. First they claimed the materials werent ready. Then the president was sick. Then the Vice President hurt his foot. On and on.
After attempting to call the bureau, them having no one there to talk to me during regular business hours about my problem and putting me on hold when cell phone calls are very expensive here. Them saying theyd call me back, when service is so shoddy in my village and no phone booths. I went home. Cried my eyes out.
Then I went to my nurse and really threatened to leave. I gave him the rest of the papers from my training and told him that if he had any questions to ask me now because I might be in America by the time the next meeting happens. It was such a hard ass thing to do looking back on it.
I told him I couldnt be at my house without shade when temperatures are climbing to 110 degrees Fahrenheit each day. It was an ultimatum really. I wasnt positive I would make good on it.
Im meeting my parents in Paris in April, I am definitely staying in Burkina until then because of the loss of plane ticket.
More and more it is becoming clear to me that the COGES need to build the capacity within themselves to carry out a plan in some sort of semi timely fashion. But my job is not to build their capacity to build me a hangar before hot season.
And honestly, when they arent motivated to do some health activity, thats fine. Bottom line, its their community. If they dont want to change things, its not my fault. Its not like any of them can fire me. But when its about my house or something that I need, thats when I cant deal with the frustration.
My hangar was finished the day after my bout of anger at the nurse, by the way. TWO of the SEVEN COGES came with the second half of the materials and built it in an hour, revealing to me how flimsy their excuses were.
The next project is to get someone to smooth my walls, which are extremely bumpy and covered with cracks. This I need for my sanity. I think Im developing a yellow wallpaper complex. They already gave me their excuse against building a wall around my part of the courtyard. They just dont understand the extreme lack of privacy that comes from being (probably) the first and (definitely) the only white person living in their village. After seven months of this, it has really begun to make me angry.
All that said, it looks like Im doing the first sensibilization in village on the 8th for International Womens Day, on family planning. I am attempting to stay optimistic about the COGES claiming they are going to help me.
I did buy a Womens Day panya (piece of material you wrap around as a skirt.) It is wonderful gaudy Africanness.
But in this way I am torn. Between wanting to stay to see what I can build here, and the impending impossibility of me staying, when nothing progresses with my house, when the impossibility of living here becomes as a novelty at best, and a fetish at worst, when it beats down.
Here, I am a novelty at best, and a fetish at worst. But when I saw Colleen crying before she got on the plane, in the airport that looked horribly developed to me now, and horribly provincial and dinky when I first arrived, I realized just how far I had come, and glimpsed at the gravity and weight of this experience on my life and my future. I realized how much I really did want to see how much more I could push my limits, and the best way for me to do that now, is to stay.
Amanda was really crazy happy to see Kevin. A lot of people stared at the spectacle of them making out in the airport. He looked well fed and ecstatic. We all went back to the PC house and ate amazing cake. I hope Colleen will be happy.