Reflections from my time in Africa

 My recent trip to Senegal and Gambia flooded me with many new, and old, experiences and gave me many potential ponderings for deeper learning and understanding.  At some level, it might be interesting to talk about the surface experiences that were so similar to my childhood in Suriname - crossing rivers by ferry, tropical architecture, delicious mangos and bananas, and even the same cookies, at times.  (In fact, they even had Zwan... in the little cans!)

Ferry Crossing to Banjul

 Then, there were the abnormal experiences that I got to have: seeing a canon from 1895 still guarding a river crossing, being on national (Gambian) tv and in the papers, drinking water out of bag, seeing the sky turn orange from the dust of the Sahara, etc.  But simply mentioning those and giving a few pictures, probably fulfills their usefulness in my life narrative.  

Sahara in the Sky

Bag of drinking water

Canon at the Saloum River crossing in Senegal

Back end of the canon, marked 1895

 But, especially in light of current social topics in the USA, another point has caused me to ponder: the constant awareness of difference, created by skin tone. Often being white felt like a liability - particularly when it facilitated 'economic selection' towards us (higher prices). Yet the fact of the matter is that at the end of day, no matter how tight our budget was, it was able to deal with those prices. The disadvantage to us was minimal, though not marginal. But more disturbing than those higher prices was the fact that I was associated with a culture which is seen to be reaching over the globe and, intentionally or not, displacing older cultures and stirring trouble between the traditional and the modern - between values and self-gratification, morals and utility. Being automatically identified with this hegemony-grasping culture was far more troubling.

 With great honesty, a group of students dramatized for us the struggles they each face as they decide whether to follow older ways or not, to live within or abandon the morals and beliefs that have bound their cultures together for generations, or to respect or reject their elders. And the villain in the drama is a culture - maybe not a person or country per se, but a culture or system of thought that drifts in from the West and is most naturally identified with my country of birth.  So, now, simply because of skin tone, I am associated with a system which I largely reject.    

 What if these points had stretched on from 2-3 weeks into generations - different treatment, wrong assumptions? What if our ability to deal with the higher prices were stripped away, and we had to live more expensively simply because of who we are?  What if we were not honored guests of respected citizens? What then? Who would have spoken for us? Who would have cared for what we had to offer? Who would have listened to us?   

a view in Bakau, Gambia