One of my recent thoughts trailed off... "back when I was American." I was not challenging my passport identification or the legality of it all- I am and must remain, for better or worse, American, though I am not always sure what that means to me. Or what someone who asks is hoping to glean from knowing my country of birth. No, my last thought referred more to a mindset- back when foreign seemed so undeniably foreign and perhaps even less, though part of me insists that I've been open-minded of others and critical of American traditions all along. What I see now, so thoroughly, is how challenging it is to actually present a real picture of everyday life. The gap is wide. It is a gulf, a literal ocean between us. I am left standing on this shore, looking over, wondering whether I should invest my time in presenting images of a better Congo, a more beautiful and inviting Congo, to counter the war-torn, violent, rapist culture preferred by media or whether I should try to help one put themselves in the real shoes of a person who lives on one meal a day, or gathers their water in buckets every morning, or studies by moonlight because the electricity has gone out...again.
It is a balance. When celebrating the wins, I realize they are not just wins- they are not comparable wins, because whatever gains your average Congolese makes- from small daily successes to achievements over a lifetime- they've done so by surmounting obstacles every minute. I was just imagining out loud to a friend, "Look at what Africans have accomplished- imagine if there was electricity and water - imagine what Africans could do. They'd be unstoppable." And then we got lost in discussing how the privileged have squandered their haves on a bunch of initiatives that do so little to truly advance humanity. And how perhaps the idea of a continent filled with unstoppable Africans is a truly terrifying and threatening idea for some.
These conversations are balanced with discussions in my classes and with my professors. Two recent exchanges have been replaying in mind for weeks now. One, a discussion around vaccines and how we are managing with the virus over here, was revealing of the distance. Or perhaps it is difference. I shared the idea that most Congolese, dare I say Africans?, are more concerned about malaria than corona. Malaria? Their response came in the form of a question. They hadn't heard (much) about the disease that, in 2019 had 229 million cases and killed 409,000 people, 274,000 of which were children. Like all reports, the numbers are subject to being lower than actual considering those who do not or cannot seek diagnosis or treatment. There exists the suspicion that if malaria were affecting wealthy, white countries, there would have been affordable treatment available to all, oh- kind of like the free vaccine available in the US. Or that malaria would have been wiped out by now, oh- kind of like polio.
I found myself surprised, and frustrated, that they were unaware of country and capital names, or major issues like malaria. Am I expecting too much of Americans to look across their borders and understand the wider world? Often, I hear Americans discuss the difficulties in their own "backyard" as one reason why they do not look out across the oceans. I see two challenges with this approach. One, many are unable to cite positive examples of programs and initiatives that occur in Europe or elsewhere. It is not just problem focused, but holds potential to be solution focused if one were to examine how other countries manage social and economic issues. Two, other citizens make a point to know what's going on in the world. It seems uniquely American to be so insular as to not have a basic understanding of the names and places important to global politics. And perhaps I am making broad sweeping statements, and you are one of the few who wants to raise their hand and resist. I see you. I know you are there, but in general, Americans are hugely disappointing.
In another casual discussion I was noting the importance of inter-African collaboration. We'd just completed an amazing workshop with an artist from Mali and Congolese participants (is this a post? There is so much about that experience that needs to be a post.) In my 6 year tour of African countries, the first and most prevalent question I was asked, "What's it like over there, compared to here?" Aside from wondering which is "better," Africans are interested in the details of how other Africans are living. During our closing ceremony, our Malian guest and a Congolese invitee were talking. "You live well here," he remarked. "People eat every day, there is good food. It's not too expensive." Both the listener and I exploded in laughter. As a guest, of course we would not let him go hungry. As a guest, he still hadn't internalized the money system, all the more complex because of the use of both dollars and franc Congolaise. He kept asking, " How much is that in franc cefa?" and the Congolese artists kept asking, "How much in dollars?"
Many people in Congo do not eat everyday. This is a simple statement, perhaps surprising to some, certainly surprising to my advisor, who turned it back to me in the form of a question. "Do you mean there are some people who really don't eat everyday?" And I could see how far apart we were. Because I don't mean there are some poor, starving children with flies in the corner of their eyes. I mean, there are some men and women who get up and go to work everyday, or who like to sit and have intelligent conversations and make beautiful creations. And sometimes, they don't have enough to eat, or eat properly. So, what is a meal in Congo?
Sometimes a meal is a bag of peanuts and a bag of manioc slices. For some reason, these things go together. A seller will have little plastic bags of each and generally, you buy them both. Sometimes a meal is a small roll of bread or half of a baguette. These can be eaten plain with tea or occasionally smeared with peanut butter, or stuffed with sausage. In the morning, omelets are available also on the street. So, this might the be the only thing eaten in a day, or it might be breakfast. It really depends on the day.
Sometimes a friend might come along with a meal to share or an unexpected visitor might necessitate buying a drink which hadn't been in the program. Evening meals, or midday meals can be anything from a plate of rice and sauce (beans or some kind of greens) to foufou and dried fish or a sauce. Sometimes there isn't. I guess that's the thing. Sometimes people don't eat everyday. And when they do, it certainly isn't a lot. Snacks, in the typical American sense, don't really exist. Peanuts might be a snack. For people who drink, it is common to see peanut sellers offering a small cupful or plastic baggie to accompany the beer. But the idea, so natural to me now, I realize is a far cry from what Americans imagine when they think of a meal, or cupboards stocked with food. It's not really the same at all, and I realized the visual difference in imagining the daily diet during these conversations.
What I wanted to do was shift the emphasis from people who aren't eating enough, or who view mealtimes as a specific moment to people who consume in excess. Americans eat way more than is necessary- might I even suggest desirable, or healthy. The narrative seems to be about bringing other countries up to this standard rather than getting Americans to see that they are overindulgent. Perhaps that is where there is room to grow. I am not suggesting that there isn't room for improvement- of course I think all people should have access to adequate food every day.
This is basis of some of Paul Collier's arguments in his book The Bottom Billion... it is not enough to try and build up some of the poorest countries, but that some of the richest countries will also have to build down- reduce their consumption. Citizens of wealthy countries have exaggerated their "needs" and globally, it is necessary for a recalibration. We must reassess what is necessary, what is healthy and what is possible for all to achieve. We absolutely have the resources and capacity to feed all humans. We absolutely have the ability to ensure all people have access to clean water, running water and stable electricity. What we have not done is allocate our global resources in an equitable way. It begins with the perception of who is deserving. Do all humans believe all other humans are deserving of food, water and basic energy? Clearly, despite those who might be quick to say yes, it is not yet an idea that has taken root.
This stems, in large part, from misconceptions about how these things are achieved. Blame is rampant. Self-righteousness is abundant. Ignorance is vast. Where do the privileges you enjoy come from? And how is that you have gained access while others are barred? Do we each know the answers, the full and deep, complex answers to these questions? Are we even asking these questions? Or do most of us accept our privilege, our food, our water, our comfort in constant electricity as a given right, which has been 'earned' and acquired through individual effort?
Myth #1: There is no individual. Whatever you think you are creating, achieving, acquiring or developing on your own is a myth. Human beings do not and cannot live in isolation. Everything we gain is the result of an interaction with others or our environment. For every take we assume, someone or something else has given.
Myth #2: There is no ownership. Whatever you think you have bought, or created, or developed, it is not yours alone. Everything that exists is in connection, influence, or inspiration with someone or something else. You cannot acquire material goods without the help of thousands of others. You cannot own natural items, which live, grow, die and replenish according to their own natural rhythms. Humans are not in control of this. We may influence it, but we are not in charge. Perhaps that is one of the biggest - most fearful- truths to accept. Many humans thrive on a warped sense of control. Imagining we have more control than we actually do is partly a safety measure. It allows for a sense of security and allays fears of an unknown future.
Myth #3: No one deserves more or less than someone else. All people are born with the same basic needs. As humans, we grow and our needs develop. From sustenance to socioemotional support, humans have common requirements. No one deserves greater access than someone else.
Myth #4: Our ability to access the requirements of our daily needs does not affect our value as people. We are not more or less important based on the resources available to us. Poverty does not reduce our personhood and wealth does not increase our value as a human.
These are the African conversations we're engaged in. What are you talking about?
