Distrust in Mali; Hope In Burkina

Due to an unfortunate illness within Team Wam (Walsh + Sim = Wam), we have been in Banfora, Burkina Faso, for five days now, and it looks like another few will be necessary for recovery (all seems to be well now). This little town does not offer many exciting activites for a traveller, save for a small waterfall and a hippo-filled lake. As a result, I have spent my days walking aorund this sleepy little place, hiding from the sun at midday, napping, and planning further on in the trip. I have also had time to reflect on some of our experiences so far and will write a few of those thoughts here (please note that these comments reflect Malian society, not Burkinabé society).

First, one of our constant problems in Mali was the people - men, women, and children - asking us for 'un cadeau' (French for 'a gift'). At first I was torn because of the sheer number of people who seemed to need our help. However, as food was often looked at with disgust by these people, who wanted money istead, I realized that these people were not in the dire situation I originally perceived them to be in. It had nothing to do with needing anything from us, but a belief that white people ought to give them something. Obviously, this belief stems from tourists before who have readily opened their pockets to children, offering gifts and money. Unfortunately for travellers (I will make a distinction here - a tourist is someone with lots of money and little time, a traveller is someone with a lot lof time but little money), the people here assume every foreigner is rich and willing to give hand outs. Such is not the case, and since all literature covering these countries asks travellers not to give hand outs to children, many people refuse to give anything at anytime (sharing food or water being an exception).

On one of our treks through Dogon Country (see previous post), Matt and Heather were followed by a group of children, who were harrassing them for their empty nalgene bottles, for nearly fifteen minutes. Afterwards Matt and I decided that this was racism (discriminatory or abusive behaviour towards members of another race). The harrasment we received due to our skin colour in Mali was persistent, aggressive, intrusive, and constant. We payed more than the locals for the same items, and we were harrased by hawkers (street sellers) and guides at all times. I do not expect people to understand, or even agree with me, especially if you have never visited Africa. It is not like other places that I initially thought were aggressive... When I was in Peru we were often approached by street sellers, many of whom were children. Rather than looking for a handout, everyone had something to sell, and a simple 'no gracias' from us was sufficient to send the seller on his or her way.

I purposely made a note differentiating Mali from Burkina because it is well deserved by the Burkinabé people. Since our arrival in Burkina we have been seen and treated as people, not sources of gifts and money. When illness struck our team, the hostel security guard walked to the hospital to ensure it was open, then returned and walked us back to it - all of this occurring between 2 and 3am. He then returned at 4 or 5am to make sure all was okay, and the hostel owner came and checked up on us at 7am upon arriving at the hostel and finding one of his patrons sick. None of these people asked for, nor expected anything, in return for their help and kindness; it was done out of genuine concern for a fellow human being. When I went into the market on Sunday, I observed what locals were paying for fruits and vegetables, in order to gauge what I should be able to bargain down to. Imagine my surprise when the first price I was told was the same as that paid by the locals (amazing!). Burkina has not been perfect - in Ouagadougou a coffee girl purposely withheld the price for two coffees from us until we had drank the coffees, then charged us three-and-a-half-times the going rate. Despite my wanting to argue, Matt said we should leave it and we walked away. Once again Matt's peacefulness triumphed, when only moments later an artisan approached us and asked us to look at his work. Matt said that he would not buy anything in the area because the coffee girl had overcharged him (his French is improving rapidly). The artisan, upset that we would not visit his shop, and sorry that we had been ripped off, returned moments later with over half of our payment. He did not ask us again to visit his shop. It was a moment that would never have happened in Mali, and gave me great hope for Burkina, and the rest of West Africa.