Ça Va Aller

I’m changing the name of my blog.  I decided on the name “American Burkinabe” when I created it the month before I left for Africa.  I have since realized that it is misleading for a number of reasons.

The name “American Burkinabe” grew out of my perception that I might become culturally integrated enough during my Peace Corps experience that I would consider part of my identity to be Burkinabe, even after spending the first 22 years of my life in America. I was at a point in my life where I was frustrated with many aspects of American society and I was looking for a different way of life.  Making the commitment to living and working in Burkina Faso for over two years was obviously an extreme way to deal with this frustration, but I decided it was the best option available to me despite the mountains of job and grad school offers I was forced to turn down (0 and 0 respectively).

But throughout my service, I’ve found that, contrary to my belief that my Peace Corps experience would lead me to abandon part of my American identity, the opposite is true.  It has made more American.  I’m not going to start a self-righteous rant of how good we have it in the states, but we do.  I have never been so thankful to be born in a progressive and free society. I have never been more appreciative to have grown up in a huge, beautiful country that is easily accessible by reliable* forms of transportation.  The healthcare system of the US (despite the political battle over healthcare reform) is extremely good.   A vast majority of the population of the US has access to electricity, running water, and basic sanitation.  The education and work opportunities in the United States far surpass those available in Burkina.  Not to mention access to those education and work opportunities is much more widespread (although not as widespread as they should be).  All of these achievements were accomplished in less than 300 years.

*The word “reliable” is used in a relative sense. After Peace Corps, I would consider the ever present possibility of a 5 hour delay in an air conditioned airport surrounded by food and water “reliable” transport.   I would not consider the ever present possibility of a 5 hour bush taxi breakdown in sweltering heat far from food and water “reliable” transport.

I acknowledge that there are strong counterarguments to all of the points that I just raised, but the bottom line is that life is pretty damn good in the US. That being said, I hope I don’t come across as condescending.  I fully acknowledge that you don’t need to spend 2 years in one of the poorest countries of Africa to appreciate being American.  However, an experience like mine does give one a unique perspective on why being American is great.  To illustrate this point, I want to share a list I kept during my first few months at site to mentally cope with being away from the US for so long.   The contents of that list are as follows:

Things I’ll Probably Miss Most About Burkina

-Importance of family

-Unconditionally respect for elders

-$1.20 22oz beers

-Sunny beach weather almost every day

-Volunteer friends

-The sun seems bigger here (great sunsets, sunrises)

-Being my own boss.  All of the time.

-No worries about being prosecuted for downloading music illegally

-Excessive leisure time (reading, napping, listening to music)

-Fighting “the good fight” (not working for “the man” or the 1%)

-Living in a community where everyone knows each other

-Not having to be on time to anything or follow through on commitments

Things I Probably Won’t Miss About Burkina

-THE HEAT (THE SUN SEEMS BIGGER AND MORE POWERFUL HERE)

-Living in a community where everyone knows each other

-Lack of electricity

-Lack of running water

-Lack of basic sanitation

-Lack of fast internet / inability to download / inability to watch Youtube videos or stream anything online

-People not being on time to anything or following through on commitments

- NO OCEAN / BEACH / LARGE BODIES OF WATER

-Unmotivated coworkers and community members

-Lack of bacon

-Being stared at and called names every day

-Terrible Burkina pop music (Ivoire Mix DJ needs to be stopped)

-People trying to get stuff from me (money, US visa, etc.)

- Difficulty of travel

-Lack of ingredients to cook with / Lack of good restaurants

-Being out of touch with American culture / movies / TV shows / music / sports

-People always saying what they think I want them to say instead of the truth

-Sweating all of the time

-Being away from friends and family

You can probably see why I stopped making this list after a week or so.  As far as coping mechanisms go, it wasn’t the most effective.  Don’t get me wrong, I definitely appreciate certain aspects of Burkinabe culture, but to claim that I’ve adopted these cultural norms would be lying.  I understand them and I’ve learned how to deal with them on a daily basis.  Which I consider to be a pretty huge accomplishment considering American and Burkinabe culture almost always fall on opposite sides of the “culture spectrum.”

I would never frame my experience in Burkina Faso as negative.  It has not been a 3 month party filled study abroad trip to Barcelona, but it has been an extremely formative experience in my life.  I’ve never had so much time to figure out exactly what I enjoy and prefer.  I’ve never had so much time to dedicate to reading, listening to music, and watching movies.  I’ve become moderately fluent in French and developed excellent non-verbal communication skills.  I’ve learned more about sustainable development than any grad school program could ever teach me (although I’m still probably going to grad school).  I’ve made lifelong friends and strengthened my ties with friends and family back home (seriously I love you guys).

Which brings me to the new name of my blog, “Ça Va Aller.”  It literally means, “It’s going to go,” but also, “Life goes on,” when used in a philosophical sense and “You only live once” when used before making a particularly sketchy decision from which there is no alternative.  It’s a lingual manifestation of the fatalistic attitude that is prevalent in Burkina culture.  Which makes sense because it would be impossible to live here if you didn’t adopt this mentality at least 50% of the time you spend here, although I recommend 90% of the time for emotional sanity. 

In America, if something is goes wrong or something breaks, society’s response is, “Fix it,” or “Figure it out.”  In Burkina, society’s response is “ça va aller.”  From a work perspective, that attitude makes it extremely difficult to accomplish anything sustainable here, especially if there are unforeseen obstacles.  However, that attitude also makes it possible stay sane in a country where, more often than not, things don’t go as planned.

That attitude has allowed me to rework my definition of “success” and realize that just living in Burkina for 27 months is a huge accomplishment.  Getting a new debit card after getting my wallet stolen in July (a five month process) is a huge accomplishment. Being able to buy things at the local market in local language (however bad) is a huge accomplishment.  Completing a project (however small) with a Burkinabe counterpart is a huge accomplishment. Surviving in a culture where almost no one speaks passable English and even fewer people have ever been to the United States is a huge accomplishment.  

Do I still get frustrated here on a daily basis? Yes.  Do I feel like I’ve accomplished a lot here from a work perspective? No.  But do I regret coming to Burkina Faso to serve in the Peace Corps? Would I rather have spent that time in the states? Not for a second.  I am proud of my small successes here.  And the rest, well, ça va aller.