27 September 2009
Respect
Here is a difference between American and West African culture. The Togolese and Burkinabe are collectivist; they identify with groups, think in terms of families and define themselves in relation to others around them. Americans are individualist - me, Me, ME! What do I want to do with my life? What have I done to make you respect me? Or more importantly, maybe, what HAVEN'T I done to have your respect?
West Africans respect their elders, in general, and very old people, specifically. They respect people with "salary jobs" and those above them in heirarchies. They respect government officials. They respect people with advanced educations.
As an individualist American, I think about what I want and what I do and don't mind. So first of all, I do mind being respected for the color of my skin. This is afforded at restaurants and shops, in cars and sometimes in the street and it is based on the assumption that "the white" has money (or power?) to spend.
I mind being respected because I am American, just a bit. How proud should I be for the positive image my country has apparently cultivated here? In these two former French colonies? I'm proud of my country for having a "Peace" Corps, I guess, but that's just one thing... Whites have money; Americans have money. Whites and Americans get respect. But I mind this because what have I done to earn it? My individualism is relentless. I want to know that I deserve what I've got because I've done something to get it. I want credit.
There's no I in CHRISTINA... oh wait... actually, there are two.
But here's where my thought process falls apart. I don't at all mind being respected for being a woman. Huh? Being white, being American, being a woman - I had nothing to do with any of this. I can't take any credit for the way these chips fell. But I want my womanly respect - and I can't quite feel that it has nothing to do with me.
Apart from this, why should I want respect? For being a hard worker? For having completed a university education? For being able to speak French? Hhmm. I can't say that I owe these things just to myself.
For being a firstborn? For having well-liked parents? For enjoying esteem from friends? Hhmm. Again.
I'm an American. I'm individualist. I don't want you to tell me what to do and I want to work to earn what I deserve and then, of course, to OWN it.
But there is something to thinking as a group. It may be worth admiting that every individual is defined by their interaction with and relation to the groups and the cultures surrounding them.
Don't respect me because I am white. Respect me because I manage my emotions.
Yovo? Yovo?
YOVO-YOVO-BONSOIR-CAVABIEN?-MERCIIIIIII....!!!
Don't respect me because I am American. Respect me because I would eat anything you put in front of me at least twice just to make you happy.
Green slime and sticky birdseed dough or to avec la sauce gumbo.
Don't respect my education, my sense of adventure, my ability to speak a second language - that's just the hand I was dealt and played.
J'aimerais bien parler avec vous pour ameliorer mon francais et mieux comprendre votre culture...
But do respect me as a woman. And I'll respect you as a man, or a woman or something else. We should all get one thing we care about most, shouldn't we? One identity card that trumps everything. Respect me because I'm me. Respect me because I am one of us.
West Africans respect their elders, in general, and very old people, specifically. They respect people with "salary jobs" and those above them in heirarchies. They respect government officials. They respect people with advanced educations.
As an individualist American, I think about what I want and what I do and don't mind. So first of all, I do mind being respected for the color of my skin. This is afforded at restaurants and shops, in cars and sometimes in the street and it is based on the assumption that "the white" has money (or power?) to spend.
I mind being respected because I am American, just a bit. How proud should I be for the positive image my country has apparently cultivated here? In these two former French colonies? I'm proud of my country for having a "Peace" Corps, I guess, but that's just one thing... Whites have money; Americans have money. Whites and Americans get respect. But I mind this because what have I done to earn it? My individualism is relentless. I want to know that I deserve what I've got because I've done something to get it. I want credit.
There's no I in CHRISTINA... oh wait... actually, there are two.
But here's where my thought process falls apart. I don't at all mind being respected for being a woman. Huh? Being white, being American, being a woman - I had nothing to do with any of this. I can't take any credit for the way these chips fell. But I want my womanly respect - and I can't quite feel that it has nothing to do with me.
Apart from this, why should I want respect? For being a hard worker? For having completed a university education? For being able to speak French? Hhmm. I can't say that I owe these things just to myself.
For being a firstborn? For having well-liked parents? For enjoying esteem from friends? Hhmm. Again.
I'm an American. I'm individualist. I don't want you to tell me what to do and I want to work to earn what I deserve and then, of course, to OWN it.
But there is something to thinking as a group. It may be worth admiting that every individual is defined by their interaction with and relation to the groups and the cultures surrounding them.
Don't respect me because I am white. Respect me because I manage my emotions.
Yovo? Yovo?
YOVO-YOVO-BONSOIR-CAVABIEN?-MERCIIIIIII....!!!
Don't respect me because I am American. Respect me because I would eat anything you put in front of me at least twice just to make you happy.
Green slime and sticky birdseed dough or to avec la sauce gumbo.
Don't respect my education, my sense of adventure, my ability to speak a second language - that's just the hand I was dealt and played.
J'aimerais bien parler avec vous pour ameliorer mon francais et mieux comprendre votre culture...
But do respect me as a woman. And I'll respect you as a man, or a woman or something else. We should all get one thing we care about most, shouldn't we? One identity card that trumps everything. Respect me because I'm me. Respect me because I am one of us.
06 September 2009
Au Togo
I've moved! I left village, left Djibo, left Ouaga and finally left Burkina Faso. Where did I go? America? No!! Je suis allée au peitit Togo!
I am still a Peace Corps Volunteer promoting girls' education and empowerment but have now become a "third year volunteer" aka overly enthusiastic nutso who has elected to spend yet another year living on $8 a day, baths with a cup and bucket and semi-annual bouts of dysentery. So that's me - crazy Peace Corps VIP or loon depending on how you look at it - and I'll be around, blogging on West Africa through September 2010.
Here's my new contact info should you be awesome enough to use it:
Christina Sobiloff, PCV
Corps de la Paix
BP 3194, Lomé
TOGO, West Africa
cell phone: + 228 974 36 25 (I can receive texts!)
À bientôt…
I am still a Peace Corps Volunteer promoting girls' education and empowerment but have now become a "third year volunteer" aka overly enthusiastic nutso who has elected to spend yet another year living on $8 a day, baths with a cup and bucket and semi-annual bouts of dysentery. So that's me - crazy Peace Corps VIP or loon depending on how you look at it - and I'll be around, blogging on West Africa through September 2010.
Here's my new contact info should you be awesome enough to use it:
Christina Sobiloff, PCV
Corps de la Paix
BP 3194, Lomé
TOGO, West Africa
cell phone: + 228 974 36 25 (I can receive texts!)
À bientôt…
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