Ramadan has started, which is something to pay attention to in a country where about half of the population is Muslim. When I’m behind the computer, I tend to get bored and then I want to eat. That is why I had brought an apple and a banana to work, next to lunch. But suddenly I realized that it might be very impolite to be munching all day when there are people in the office who can only eat at night. I decided to discuss the matter with Anatole, the young Burkinabé who does the embassy’s finances, and who shares his office with me. I bother him regularly, usually with questions concerning the French language, like when I should say “bonjour” and when “bonsoir” and what is written in the text message my Burkinabé friend has sent me. He always patiently explains, as he did now. “There are about seven Muslims at the embassy”, he said, after counting them on his fingers. “Do you think they take offence when I eat?” I asked him. He laughed about it, explained that probably only half of them were really attending mosque and that I could eat whatever I liked whenever I liked. And so I did.
What Anatole said is examplary for the way Islam is practiced here. I had seen it already in Ghana and Senegal: Muslims are very relaxed about there faith here. Some are relaxed about it to such an extent, that it is not really their faith anymore: it is more part of their identity. Many people calling themselves Muslim will drink and smoke and consume marriage well before marriage, although maybe not during Ramadan. Lots of people pray though, and they do that anywhere. They just role out their praying mat, sit down alongside the street, wash their feet and hands with some water from a teapot, and start praying, surrounded by loud traffic, people, dust and noise. It doesn’t bother them. They might do it together, waving up and down on the pedestrian area in a group. Also, it more than once happened that a man (women don’t pray on the street) is about to pray, already sitting on his knees, his hand palms raised to the sky, when I walk by and smile at them, and they smile and wave back.
What I wanted to tell you though, is that I met up with a fellow liberal today: Seydou. He is the president of the young liberals here in Ouaga. We had already exchanged e-mails and text messages and called several times, but today, we finally met up in real life. He asked me whether I had already eaten something, and because I hadn’t, decided to take me to a restaurant. To him, it seemed a good idea to go on his moped. I wasn’t so sure at first. However, once I was on it, I liked it: it is great to speed along the large boulevard, with the wind blowing through your hair and the sky above us turning lilac and pink while the sun is setting.
Inside the restaurant, we ordered drinks, or so I thought, but when it arrived, there was only one glass. Only then I started to realize my mistake. Seydou is a Muslim, of course, and not eating nor drinking before sundown. I felt bad, but also hungry, so when a big plate of spaghetti arrived, I ate it anyway, encouraged to do so by Seydou. He even paid for the whole meal. Then, he took me to the CENI, which is the committee organizing the elections. It is made up of people from the ruling party, the opposition parties and civil society. Apparently, Seydou works there. He made me shake hands with both it’s vice-presidents, one of which was a big woman, who chased away some young guy sitting in her office with her when we walked in, making him wait outside the door while she chatted along with us about nothing in particular, giving me advice on where to travel and stuff.
It was nice that I had already learned a great deal about Burkinabé politics within one week. I wowed Seydou with my knowledge, I must say. To his and my own great surprise, I was even able to say how many seats the ruling party has in government (73 out of 111), knew the juicy details of Burkinabé politics and I even knew that the CENI was trained to apply a new method called BRIDGE. When I first came across a newspaper article on this subject, I didn’t read it, because I thought an article about a game of cards wouldn’t be of much interest to me. That is how I remembered. He told me more, namely that the liberal party is the second party in Parliament here (although with only 14 seats), and he promised to link me up with other young politicians from several parties.
Seydou accompanied me to my house, making sure I came home safely, and I felt happy and pleased to have made a Burkinabé friend. During dinner the anthropologist in me told him that I hadn’t come all the way to Burkina just to be surrounded by Dutch people all the time: I want to meet some Burkinabé as well. This pleased him, just as it pleased him that I already knew so much about politics in his country, because he repeated it to the female vice-president of CENI. She just nodded approvingly, and I felt relieved that the matron was pleased.
What Anatole said is examplary for the way Islam is practiced here. I had seen it already in Ghana and Senegal: Muslims are very relaxed about there faith here. Some are relaxed about it to such an extent, that it is not really their faith anymore: it is more part of their identity. Many people calling themselves Muslim will drink and smoke and consume marriage well before marriage, although maybe not during Ramadan. Lots of people pray though, and they do that anywhere. They just role out their praying mat, sit down alongside the street, wash their feet and hands with some water from a teapot, and start praying, surrounded by loud traffic, people, dust and noise. It doesn’t bother them. They might do it together, waving up and down on the pedestrian area in a group. Also, it more than once happened that a man (women don’t pray on the street) is about to pray, already sitting on his knees, his hand palms raised to the sky, when I walk by and smile at them, and they smile and wave back.
What I wanted to tell you though, is that I met up with a fellow liberal today: Seydou. He is the president of the young liberals here in Ouaga. We had already exchanged e-mails and text messages and called several times, but today, we finally met up in real life. He asked me whether I had already eaten something, and because I hadn’t, decided to take me to a restaurant. To him, it seemed a good idea to go on his moped. I wasn’t so sure at first. However, once I was on it, I liked it: it is great to speed along the large boulevard, with the wind blowing through your hair and the sky above us turning lilac and pink while the sun is setting.
Inside the restaurant, we ordered drinks, or so I thought, but when it arrived, there was only one glass. Only then I started to realize my mistake. Seydou is a Muslim, of course, and not eating nor drinking before sundown. I felt bad, but also hungry, so when a big plate of spaghetti arrived, I ate it anyway, encouraged to do so by Seydou. He even paid for the whole meal. Then, he took me to the CENI, which is the committee organizing the elections. It is made up of people from the ruling party, the opposition parties and civil society. Apparently, Seydou works there. He made me shake hands with both it’s vice-presidents, one of which was a big woman, who chased away some young guy sitting in her office with her when we walked in, making him wait outside the door while she chatted along with us about nothing in particular, giving me advice on where to travel and stuff.
It was nice that I had already learned a great deal about Burkinabé politics within one week. I wowed Seydou with my knowledge, I must say. To his and my own great surprise, I was even able to say how many seats the ruling party has in government (73 out of 111), knew the juicy details of Burkinabé politics and I even knew that the CENI was trained to apply a new method called BRIDGE. When I first came across a newspaper article on this subject, I didn’t read it, because I thought an article about a game of cards wouldn’t be of much interest to me. That is how I remembered. He told me more, namely that the liberal party is the second party in Parliament here (although with only 14 seats), and he promised to link me up with other young politicians from several parties.
Seydou accompanied me to my house, making sure I came home safely, and I felt happy and pleased to have made a Burkinabé friend. During dinner the anthropologist in me told him that I hadn’t come all the way to Burkina just to be surrounded by Dutch people all the time: I want to meet some Burkinabé as well. This pleased him, just as it pleased him that I already knew so much about politics in his country, because he repeated it to the female vice-president of CENI. She just nodded approvingly, and I felt relieved that the matron was pleased.
Hey Lotte, excuus voor de trage trage respons (nog bedankt voor je email). Het klinkt alsof je al redelijk gesetteld bent en het Frans ook een beetje begint te vloeien. Ik prijs je vermogen om daadwerkelijk locals te leren kennen. Ik zal de rest van je verhalen ook doorbrowsen. Liefs
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