Jill and What's-His-Butt in Burkina Faso

Why haven't I posted in a while? I like to write blogs that are funny. But lately, things just haven't been funny.

Our second iPod got stolen. We were at a bus station in Ouahigouya that we go to all the time, and I put my bag on the bus as usual to reserve our seats. Jill and I sat not more than twenty yards from the bus and our bag while we waited. Somebody saw that I was white, got on the bus, rifled through my bag, and took our iPod. What a jerk!

Beggar kids have been driving me nuts too. A group of us were at a street side bar in Ouaga and two beggar kids came up to the group of white people and started monotonously chanting like they've been taught to do in Muslim school. After a good five minutes of ignoring them, I asked them why they were bothering us, the white, Christian volunteers when there are nicely dressed, Muslim Burkinabe sitting right next to us? The answer: "Because you're white." If I were a beggar kid I'd make it rich by begging from people leaving mosques. I wouldn't even bother with white people who probably don't belong to a religion that makes giving to the poor mandatory.

I've also been re-thinking my friendships with Burkinabe. Not a conversation goes by with our grill guy, Moussa, where he doesn't remind me to look for a job for him in the United States--that magical land next to France--when I go back for Connie and Patrick's wedding. (By the way, C and P, do you know anyone who needs a French-speaking, grill guy who knows how to grow potatoes, grill chicken and goat, and pick up hot coals with his bare hands? Let me know.) Even after I tell him that the flight costs $2000 and that apartments cost $1000 a month, more money than he will see in twenty years, he still says, "Ok, but just look around for me." Our neighbor, another teacher, wants to keep contact because he wants me to look for monetary donors to his organization. (Organizations are like weeds here. There are hundreds competing for a few NGO dollars and they're basically killing each other off.) Even the guy who we buy instant coffee and mayonnaise from thinks that he will come to the United States and that I'll help him pay his way. HA! People only hear what they want to hear, like "United States" and "jobs," but don't listen to the other parts, like "expensive" and "not possible."

After living in a place for two years, you want to feel comfortable and that you're being accepted as an equal and not just seen as a wallet with legs. But you can never be that. All I want is to be in a culture where I'm normal again. I came here wanting to drink millet beer, eat tô, and get to know Burkinabe. Now, all I want is an Anchor Steam, some Taco Bell, and to blend in.