Sunday, September 11, 2005
Entry #2: The Birthday Chicken – August 13th, 2005
Today was the first of three birthdays that will be spent in Burkina Faso. It had easily won the title for most unique birthday before 1pm. I started my birthday by participating in a Muslim Baptism. (This was my first) I then had a French lesson under a massive Karite tree. We conjugated verbs and learned to negotiate with street vendors in front of a crowd of 30 children. It should be noted that it is hard to do anything without an audience of 30 children, because... well, this country has a bunch of kids. After we completed the lesson I sat in the shade and drank tea with my instructor and my friends Kevin and Diego. My instructor pulled out his cassette player and we listened to Dire Straights and Bob Marley as we told jokes and took our siesta.
As I relaxed I watched the children play in trash and animal waste. I am sure this might sound revolting to anyone who has not seen kids play in trash and waste - and it is in fact quite gross the first time you see it. But it is like so many things here, you see these kids with open sores, bloated stomachs, skinny legs, playing in filth as they are covered in flies and your initial reaction is to only see the horror of the situation. While this is very bad and there are very real very negative consequences to this kind of squalor it is also true that these are some of the happiest kids you have ever seen. In this moment they are playing, having fun and generally content. The children and Burkinabe in general don’t need sympathy and charity exclusively; they need to develop a better way of living that is not tied exclusively to money and aid. Bad times are bad but you can be content and improve the standard of living at the same time. It is strange to compare what makes a ten year old boy content here with what it takes in the States. In this regard it is tough to say we are more humble or content.
After our class was finished I was given a chicken by a classmates host father. I walked two miles carrying a chicken by its legs. When we reached my friends house we pulled out our space age technology of I-PODS, I-TRIPS and Shortwave radios. Within two minutes we had an audience of fifty 3-15 year olds at our gate. We had a kid fetch us two beers a piece and got ready for our chicken dinner, (which was the first of many to come). When it was time to kill the chicken I felt it was my obligation to prepare the chicken since it was my Birthday. My Burkinabe friend twisted the chicken’s wings behind it back, stepped on its feet and showed me the neck so I could kill the chicken in a way that is kosher with Muslim practices. As I pulled out my Swiss Army Knife my adrenaline raised a little, then with three clean strokes, I decapitated the chicken. I thought this was the standard practice for killing chickens but apparently this was some kind of feat because they do not usually remove the head. They generally use knifes that are not especially sharp, and it is something they just don’t do. After we all had a good laugh at my expense we began to prepare the chicken.
This was just another one of the surreal experiences that have become so commonplace. You have so much time to think that you are prone to introspection and then you realize you are sitting in the middle of Africa under the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen, you are drinking beer and eating chicken in front of a crowd of 50 children and you are listening to the latest hip hop on technology that is 30 years ahead of closest thing in the village. Once you start showing the kids how to do the “Robot” and the “Harlem Shake” it just gets plain weird.
On the way home from the fun birthday party we began to hear a heavy drum beat and chanting. Upon further inspection we came upon a Protestant Church. It was about 9:30 at night and the room was filled with… (What else?) children. The chorus director was the lone adult who was able to make these kids sing and dance with remarkable precision and clarity. The church was lit with one simple lantern for the entire choir. The modest confines in no way reflected the performance that we were given. These kids were skilled and it was especially moving to see people singing about being thankful for everything they have been given while singing in such a simple setting. It was a wonderful conclusion to the most surreal birthday that I have ever experienced.
As I relaxed I watched the children play in trash and animal waste. I am sure this might sound revolting to anyone who has not seen kids play in trash and waste - and it is in fact quite gross the first time you see it. But it is like so many things here, you see these kids with open sores, bloated stomachs, skinny legs, playing in filth as they are covered in flies and your initial reaction is to only see the horror of the situation. While this is very bad and there are very real very negative consequences to this kind of squalor it is also true that these are some of the happiest kids you have ever seen. In this moment they are playing, having fun and generally content. The children and Burkinabe in general don’t need sympathy and charity exclusively; they need to develop a better way of living that is not tied exclusively to money and aid. Bad times are bad but you can be content and improve the standard of living at the same time. It is strange to compare what makes a ten year old boy content here with what it takes in the States. In this regard it is tough to say we are more humble or content.
After our class was finished I was given a chicken by a classmates host father. I walked two miles carrying a chicken by its legs. When we reached my friends house we pulled out our space age technology of I-PODS, I-TRIPS and Shortwave radios. Within two minutes we had an audience of fifty 3-15 year olds at our gate. We had a kid fetch us two beers a piece and got ready for our chicken dinner, (which was the first of many to come). When it was time to kill the chicken I felt it was my obligation to prepare the chicken since it was my Birthday. My Burkinabe friend twisted the chicken’s wings behind it back, stepped on its feet and showed me the neck so I could kill the chicken in a way that is kosher with Muslim practices. As I pulled out my Swiss Army Knife my adrenaline raised a little, then with three clean strokes, I decapitated the chicken. I thought this was the standard practice for killing chickens but apparently this was some kind of feat because they do not usually remove the head. They generally use knifes that are not especially sharp, and it is something they just don’t do. After we all had a good laugh at my expense we began to prepare the chicken.
This was just another one of the surreal experiences that have become so commonplace. You have so much time to think that you are prone to introspection and then you realize you are sitting in the middle of Africa under the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen, you are drinking beer and eating chicken in front of a crowd of 50 children and you are listening to the latest hip hop on technology that is 30 years ahead of closest thing in the village. Once you start showing the kids how to do the “Robot” and the “Harlem Shake” it just gets plain weird.
On the way home from the fun birthday party we began to hear a heavy drum beat and chanting. Upon further inspection we came upon a Protestant Church. It was about 9:30 at night and the room was filled with… (What else?) children. The chorus director was the lone adult who was able to make these kids sing and dance with remarkable precision and clarity. The church was lit with one simple lantern for the entire choir. The modest confines in no way reflected the performance that we were given. These kids were skilled and it was especially moving to see people singing about being thankful for everything they have been given while singing in such a simple setting. It was a wonderful conclusion to the most surreal birthday that I have ever experienced.
