Rien à dire

I don´t have all that much to say really. This past week has been full of sorta interesting events. We had a workshop that I helped facilitate and "Close of Service¨conference in which we learned about all the joys and steps (both procedural and emotional) of re-entry. Boy it takes almost as many steps to leave as it does to get here. But as many of you know I'm not totally leaving since I'm transferring. However there were some interesting insights about re-entry to the states. For one thing they told us that no one would really care about our experience. A better way to put it, is that no one would have the patience or the interest in our experience they way we would want to explain it. It has been found that returned PCVs have gotten frustrated because the usual conversation goes like this.

Friend: So how was Africa?
PCV: Oh wow I don't know where to begin. It was a great experience...(pauses for thought)
Friend : (interjects) That's cool, so have you seen that new movie out yet?

So the point (and not that it is a reflection on people's character) is that not everyone is going to be willing to listen to long drawn out descriptions of your experience. Moreover there are going to be things that are impossible to explain since there are no close equivalents in the US. All this leads to frustration and inner angst, so they say. I don't know what to expect from my friends but either way I'm putting that off another year by staying put.

As for that conference that I helped facilitate, that was a new experience. So I've gotten quite comfortable with my french in my time here. I've taught business basics, how to use computers/internet, and organized and ran a summer camp among other things all in French. But this conference was the first time I was in front of a group of educated people (which means good french speakers) in a professional setting. So that meant that on top of the usual ills of public speaking there was an added element of speaking in a "foreign tongue." So I basically felt like a beginner once again. And don't even try to talk off of the top of your head about something you hadn't already thought though prior! That's just asking for disaster. Anyway, I more or less did a decent job, but learned alot about what I have to do to improve my french if I really want to pursue a career which uses the language that I have come to love speaking. Unfortunately I've plateaued for the moment because of the level and proficiency of the people I live and work with. Hopefully that will improve next year in Senegal when I'll be living in a bigger city...Inch Allah ;)

Back "Home" in Burkina Part II


So how were the adventures passing for an African you may ask? I’ll tell you they were quite interesting. I do it in Burkina from time to time in order to not be hassled by aggressive tourist guides in the capital or to avoid a person I don’t want to talk to in passing (this one in particular surprised me...believe it or not if you are walking down the street, excuse me, if you are black and walking down the street in a country full of black people, it is possible for people who know you personally not to notice you. Even if you walk right past them! I guess you just blend in to the crowd, I’ve pulled it off a couple of times in fact). But anyways the results of playing an African in Ghana were favorable but they had a few twists of their own.

Case #1
Once I was walking down the street in Accra and out the corner of my eye I saw an old guy stop walking once he spotted me. He then started to hiss at me to get my attention. As usual when presented with this situation, I ignored his hiss and kept walking which in this case was quite easy since we were on opposite sides of the street. He continued to hiss at me and at the crescendo of a hiss I looked back at him and he gave me a look like I was being unbelievably rude. We were both on opposite sides of the road with traffic rolling by and I turned around and walked in his direction to see what he wanted, however I wasn’t going to cross the street. He gave me another look of disappointment as he motioned for me to cross the street. I waited until the traffic was clear and ran across the street to see what this guy wanted so I could continue in peace. He said in a semi-harsh voice, “Teid nbje und tigedj ngnnae” (or at least that’s what my ears picked up). I replied, “What?” with a confused look on my face, He continued but this time more forceful, “Teid nbje und tigedj ngnnae cha!” with a disappointing look on his face and I felt an expectation of me to do or say something apologetic. I was left no choice but to say, “I’m sorry, I only understand English.” A slight smile formed on his face and he pleasantly replied in perfect English, “Oh, I’m sorry, you resemble someone I know. I thought you were him.” Without faltering he immediately turned around and went on his way.

Case #2
On the same day I was walking down a street and a lady from a store front yelled out at me and said, “Hey come here!” Perplexed I pointed to myself and mouthed “Me?” She shook her head yes and motioned assertively for me to get over there. I hesitantly approached her to see what it was she wanted. She asked me, “Where are you from?” I quickly said “The U.S.” She demanded belligerently, “You aren’t Nigerian?” I told her no, and then she launched into quizzing me on facts to make sure that I was American. After I provided enough evidence to her liking she apologized for yelling at me and told me that I looked like a Nigerian businessman she once knew.

Case # 3
I was staying at a beach resort in Krokrobite and I was shooting the breeze with the security guy. He was telling me that the first day I came to the resort and went to the “Reception Desk/Hut” that he thought that (once again) I was this Nigerian guy (no lie) that had come about half a year ago. This particular guy didn’t come as a guest but as a businessman who wanted to sell some goods to the owner for the resort. Ultimately the Nigerian guy ended up stealing some tents from the resort. The whole businessman thing was a con. The security guy said he was shocked to see the Nigerian guy come back months later and then go check in like nothing ever happened. He said that we would have gone after me if hadn’t see that the owner didn’t react negatively to my arrival.

Those weren’t the results that I was expecting to achieve but I guess it’s the price you pay to avoid being hassled for being American. On a side note, be on the look out for the Nigerian guy who looks like me. I would have thought nothing of it if not for the two people in two different cities who said that I looked like a Nigerian businessman that they knew. If you see me around and I’m acting shady or slightly weird, be warned! That is not me! Call the police immediately so that we can catch this Nigerian guy. Ironically, I bet he’s in America trying to pass for a native African American.

Back "Home" in Burkina Part I

Here you go faithful readers. I'm going to do this one in two installments hope you enjoy Part 1.

So I’m back from Ghana. All in all I’d say it was a decent vacation. I hope to do it once again sometime but on a real vacation budget versus the Peace Corps one I had. The total cost for the vacation from my porch in Dori and back again with all expenses was only $250 dollars for 11 days. That gives you an idea of how cheap Ghana can be. Here’s a breakdown of my costs.

Ghanaian Visa: $25
Round Trip Cost of Bush Taxi’s : $50
Average Hotel Room Cost Per Night: $5
Average Meal: $0.75
Passing for an African: priceless

You gotta forgive me for that, I just couldn’t resist…it may be an old joke depending on whether or not Mastercard still runs that same advertising campaign, but cut me some slack it has been two years since I’ve seen an American commercial.

The vacation was good and I just realized that it was the first time that I had been in an Anglophone country since I left the states. Also during my service I went to Mali (which is like Burkina Faso Part II, like most sequels it’s bigger with more action but not necessarily better) and La France, deux pays francophone. So being back in an English world was kinda weird. In my mind due to my limited experience in BF, conceptually Africa was French speaking. In any case, I saw commonalities in both countries that goes back to pre-colonial Africa, and I also saw differences as a result of the different approaches the British and the French took that came from their respective cultures. In any case I would say Burkina is about 15 years behind Ghana on the road to development.

Interacting with people was a surprising challenge. If I were to have talked normally I wouldn’t have been understood. Consequently I had to speak with the elocution of a computer voice (slow, clearly annunciated, and monotone). Furthermore, I had to go through the same thought process as if I were talking in French. Let me explain. Generally to speak with someone in BF you take a look at them and guess their education level (i.e. villager, farmer, merchant, school teacher) based on their how they are dressed, method of transportation, the situation, etc. Then from there you base your French on that. You can’t use the same level across the board because you won’t be understood by everyone. Unless you use the “villager’s level” but an educated person would think that you were really stupid or couldn’t speak French that well. So basically you have to feel a person out and adjust your grammar and vocab as the conversation goes on until you find an “equilibrium of language levels.” I feel well educated Burkinabé or the French (someone who has mastered the language) do the same thing when talking to me, a non-native speaker. So basically in Ghana I had to do all that with English in order to ask directions, buy food, and bargain.

Quick Highlights of what I saw and did

1. The Beach. I spent half a week getting re-acclimated with the other side my old friend, the Atlantic Ocean.

2. Ate Pizza. France and her former colonies consider thin crust pizza the only kind of pizza. I prefer something other than a glorified version of crackers and cheese and took full advantage of having real pizza available.

3. Met other travelers. There was a British couple that was in the middle of a Tran African trip from the U.K. to South Africa by car in a 6 months.

4. Slave Castles. Saw the two oldest ,biggest and most prominent slave castles on the African coast (slightly harrowing experience). Because of the mixed lineage of African tribes and slave masters families I can’t trace my roots precisely but in any case it’s from those castles where les noirs made their way to the New World.

5. Rainforest Canopy Walk. I walked on a suspended plant of wood high in the canopy of the Ghanaian rainforest. I didn’t see any animals as they are mostly nocturnal but it was exhilarating being high off the ground on a small plank of wood supported by ropes on the tree tops.

Next week I'll post what is was like passing for an African in Ghana stay tuned...