annetravels.com

After 4 months of pondering and avoiding making the effort to post some pictures on this blog, I have decided to keep this a “picture-free” blog.  I know this is a disappoint to the curious and to my blogger friends but there is a reason besides the fact that it is time consuming.

The majority of my photos (and my reality) are my friends and the families I live with.  While I can not wait to introduce my friends and family back home to those I live and work with (and generally help me retain some sanity), I feel HIGHLY uncomfortable placing their faces on this blog.  Not necessarily because they would mind or be angry with me, but because most of my friends here do not have access to a computer.  It is not like I can “tag” them on a picture to share it with them.  Most of the people in my villages are not familiar with email much less blogs.  So why should I place a photo of someone who will never see it in the context?

Shortly into this experience I read Susan Sontag’s “Regarding the Pain of Others.” While this important contribution to photographic journalism is more in the context of war, it has allowed me to further formulate my thoughts on why I have been so hesitant to post my photos.  There will always be a debate on the owner of a photo- the person in front of the camera or the person behind the camera.  It is easy to unknowingly exploit suffering, a culture or a person with a photo.  How would my photos on this blog further empower my friends in Burkina?  Most likely, it simply would not.  Their lives would continue as is, with most viewers of this blog never learning the name of the person in the photo.

I make no judgments when photos are used on others’ blogs.  There is a certain educational and curiosity value to the practice, but for me… I am just not that comfortable with it.  Sorry!

This blog is certainly not winning any Peace Corps awards. I’m a miserable blogger.  And ever since moving to my village, I have not been able to compose a decent blog.  What can I possibly write about that is not too personal (unlike most in my generation, I am highly uncomfortable with strangers knowing my personal thoughts) or too serious (this blog is dry enough)?  I considered starting writing ‘informational’ things about my reality but I do not trust the facts in my head enough not to misrepresent something and there are no research databases in village.  So…

For now some advice: NEVER come to Burkina if you can not handle heat (I mean OVEN temps), children or carbs…. and a lot of ALL.  And do not visit if you would rather not confront your conscious about inequality.  But please come on over if you have any idea how to end poverty, cure the sick or solve educational inequality.  Or if you would just like to put some money into the Burkina economy by visiting a rad chick.

Who goes to live in an African village and has nothing to write about?  Well, I am certainly “inappropriate technology” for this country, to use development terms.  Guess I sort-of knew that going into this P.C. thing.  I justify with the fact that I hope to continue to work with my village after Peace Corps.  The Peace Corps justifies it with the line “cultural exchange.”

P.S.- If anyone has any type of proof or research that demonstrates “cultural exchange” as a proven method of reducing inequality and poverty, PLEASE send me the link.

Most days the awareness of the poverty is, hmm… lets say “manageable.” There is enough laughter- like for example, watching three children repeatedly attempt to build a bench to sit- that always breaks within a matter of seconds.  Trés drôle!! Laughter is an effective remedy.

Other days…. well, your heart breaks and anger boils.  And you laugh harder to keep the tears inside because of the children surrounding you.

Some days, everything builds. From the beginning of the day- REALLY noticing the swollen bellies.  And then thinking of the food in your house.  How come I have to manage my food intake in a country where 2 in every 5 children are malnourished?  But yet if I gave all my food, it would feed the 17 kids in my courtyard, for a meal.  What is the solution to this inequality that I perpetrate?

And then it is the French nursing student, after examining an infected bike wound on an 8 year old boy, asking why the wound is not covered.  It is his face when you tell him the reality that there is no money for clean bandages.  And then the all too common conversation with the older men who wants to be taken to America because Burkina is ‘pas bon’.

Sometimes it just hits you….  Because inequality, suffering, is unnecessary and unfair.

Being in the midst of it, what do you do? I am not a doctor, so after cleaning and covering my young friend’s wound, when a women asked for help with her swollen cheek, I am of no help.  I continue to be over-fed surrounded by malnourishment.  I share but it is certainly not the solution.  I have not been taught Moore therefore I can not communicate with those I live with. And my French is bad enough that I do not serve as much of a teacher. Even if I gave all the money I had to my host sister- she still would not receive a quality education.

This is the reality. Some days it is difficult but not disempowering.  There are solutions and methods to work toward equality. But with each day I spend ‘integrating’ (aka- reading, writing, smiling and laughing) another burinkabè becomes too old or sick to benefit from future solutions.