Jennie Edgar in Mali. Photo courtesy of Jennie Edgar.
As I stood in the dimly lit room of a rural maternity, I watched life begin on a small, rusting table. The likelihood that the woman, who looked into my eyes as her son breathed his first breath, would die from preventable complications was one of the highest in the world. She did not say a word, she had not made a sound, but she clenched her jaw and got up off the table, leaving her son in the arms of the midwife as she headed toward the thin mattress that lay on the floor in the adjacent room. At the maternity, resources were limited, supplies scant and staff was knowledgeable but less than friendly. For women in Mali, birth is not a memory to be cherished; rather, it is an obligation, the duty of a woman for the prestige of her husband. Therefore she will deliver an average of seven times in her short life, usually in rapid succession and frequently without proper medical care.
Experiences like these have not only reconfigured my perceptions of the world and expanded my horizons, but have also assaulted my convictions, challenged my identity and provoked me to thoroughly engage and grapple with my previously solidified philosophies. My life has undoubtedly been transformed after only two months abroad studying health, gender and community empowerment in Mali.
Six months ago, I turned down an opportunity to study abroad in Paris because of a recommendation from my advisor to take this semester as an opportunity to challenge myself. “Paris is easy,” he told me, “and it will always be there.” However, when I arrived in August in Bamako, Mali’s capital and largest city, I found myself thoroughly resenting my advisor and his advice.
Instead of enjoying the aesthetically pleasing and romantic disposition of Paris, I found myself amidst chaos that is characteristic only of an African city. Bamako is dirty and noisy, the heat is oppressive and the food is horrendous. But these displeasures are only superficial, for in Mali—a country that may be the antithesis of the one I call home—never have I been so confronted by the beliefs that coalesce my identity and never have I stammered so numerously to define them. Not only has Mali disrespected every boundary I have ever established for myself, but it seems to take pleasure in my discomfort and pushes me further.
This has been good for me, however. And things have gotten easier because as I gain momentum, I am most rewarded when I do not push back. By examining each difficulty and holding it in my hand, turning it over with my fingers, I am learning more about myself than I thought I could know. I have never laughed or cried as loudly as I have in Mali. As I begin to open my eyes, open my ears and open my heart, I can finally see the beauty, hear the rhythm and feel the love.
What I would like to share, then, is what I believe to be a critical—and maybe even necessary—step for the betterment of our personal lives, for the progress of our society and possibly for the enhancement of our world: cultivating a lifestyle that seeks and accepts opportunities that challenge, encourages new perspectives and requires not only self-reflection, but deliberation on all of humanity. By engaging so honestly and thoroughly with our own selves, we, along with our communities, will undoubtedly benefit. It is for these reasons that I implore you to make time to study abroad.
I believe conventionality to be the antithesis of a liberal arts education. You will never get to know yourself as well as you will halfway around the world. Go somewhere you’re not sure you can find on a map. Learn an obscure language. Listen to your intuition; consult your innermost voice. What calls to you? What are you hungry for? Set out to do what you were meant to do and keep a journal along the way. Remember the good as well as the bad. You will be lonely, but you will also make the best friendships. Always dance. Always laugh. Love the unlovable. Discover, enlighten and be kind along the way. •
Jennie thanks for sharing your experience in Mali. However this article leaves me with a lot of discontent and some justifiable rage concerning your description of Mali.You said Mali has “horrendous”food? Also I know cities in general can be chaotic but why do you say in Mali you were amidst ” chaos that is characteristic only of an African city”? I am really disappointed by your description.
You seem to be basing your success and the impact of your experience, on how much of “African” discomforts you have tolerated and not on how much you are contributing. i would rather you applaud yourself for helping humanity instead of degrading Mali for your own self fulfillment.
I definitely agree with you, this is quite a disappointment. Just because you are unaccustomed to the way society functions in Mali and do not enjoy the food, you are denouncing an entire community of people using your white, most likely middle to upper class mentality. You could have expressed your own discomfort without making Mali out to be some horrendous hell that people do not want to visit. Your approach to this article was definitely offensive and I feel the college voice should not have even published this.
As someone currently living Bamako and working, I found this article to be an accurate assessment of my experience so far. A lot of these comments really disturbed me, so I’m going a few of them (as most of the others are just iterations of the same critiques). Starting with this one:
– About the horrendous food: Have you ever tried to (pronounced toe)? No? Alright do that. Then eat it at least three times every week for four months and tell me it isn’t horrendous. And speaking to other comments about how long women have been making this food, etc. etc.: *obviously* Malians don’t think their own food is horrendous or else they wouldn’t make it. Like everything else she says in this article, Jennie was offering her perspective as a stranger to the life and culture of Mali. Four months doesn’t make you a pro, but it exposes you to a lot of things, and that’s what I think she was trying to share in this article.
– The African city comment is a big generalization. But people make generalizations about European cities all the time. The fact that nearly every country on the African continent is currently categorized as a developing nation makes Jennie’s observation tragically apt.
– As other people have commented here, the point of studying abroad or living in another culture in general *is* self-fulfillment. That’s what anyone does when they study abroad, or study in general. Growth is not typically a comfortable process, so I think it is appropriate that Jennie discusses her discomforts and her attempts to reconcile them with her understanding of herself. I think that is what is great about this article. She could have easily spoken about her time volunteering at a women’s center or Save the Children, but that simply wasn’t the point of the article.
“The condition of natives is a nervous condition” – Frantz Fanon,
…and this article is pretty much why. “Nativeness,” as Fanon deals with it, is not an inherent quality but rather a position defined against the presence of a colonizer. The more we reinforce the otherness of people like the women whom Jennie apparently seeks to “empower” (as per her description of her course of study), the further we push the dialectic which creates and defines these women’s condition.
By creating a concept for herself of Africa as a foreign and unexplored place, characterized by uncultured chaos, bad food, and hardship (which Jennie describes but suspiciously assigns no cause), Jennie is reproducing the same politics of identity that allowed colonization to ravage the people she makes her object of study. Fanon’s works articulated the paradigm relating colonizer/colonized identities and socio-economic domination that creates the chaos and poverty Jennie saw.
She finds the opportunity to confront the difficult issue of her relationship to the people of Mali — “in Mali—a country that may be the antithesis of the one I call home—never have I been so confronted by the beliefs that coalesce my identity and never have I stammered so numerously to define them. Not only has Mali disrespected every boundary I have ever established for myself, but it seems to take pleasure in my discomfort and pushes me further.” But instead of taking the challenge as an opportunity to consider her rather obvious role as emissary of the colonizer, she instead redoubles her efforts to subdue Mali. She’s invading it, but she decides this is a favor to the poor, helpless Malians, and that they somehow have the gall to disrespect her! Fortunately for Jennie, this moment of bought-and-paid-for character growth, the flexing of her privilege, solidifies her feelings about herself. Unfortunately for Mali, and for the world, she, like so many other students who go abroad to “find themselves,” merely reproduces the ideological domination of colonialism: she grows as a person, all the more sure of her worth for staring the other in the eye, and Mali is graced by her conspicuously pale presence. Everyone wins, right?
To truly work against the colonial conditions which Jennie finds so revolting, we must seek to understand and undo the identity politics which demarcate the poor from the rich, both across and within borders, and only then can anyone work against the structures of colonialism. But we rarely do, and that is exactly Fanon’s point.
The more we reinforce the otherness of people like the women whom Jennie apparently seeks to “empower” (as per her description of her course of study), the further we push the dialectic which creates and defines these women’s condition.
– How is she reinforcing otherness? Yes, she refers to the cultural differences that were a challenge to her. Would you prefer her not to recognize this difference? Cuz it’s there. And it’s powerful, in good ways and bad. And yes I say bad, because I am comfortable saying that it is a bad thing to enroll 92% of boys in primary school and only 74% of girls. I am comfortable saying that a cultural preference for large families is a bad thing in a country where the lifetime maternal death risk is 1 in 15 (as compared to 1 in 4,800 in the US). I am comfortable saying that polygamy is a bad thing in a society where HIV is a real public concern and wives do not have the right to request HIV testing or initiate safe sex practices. While she may not have provided an itemized list, these are the types of challenging realities that Jennie had to face when she came here, and to ignore them would be far worse than recognizing them.
But instead of taking the challenge as an opportunity to consider her rather obvious role as emissary of the colonizer, she instead redoubles her efforts to subdue Mali. She’s invading it, but she decides this is a favor to the poor, helpless Malians, and that they somehow have the gall to disrespect her!
-Emissary of the colonizer? Really? I do believe that is the most pretentious name I have ever heard for a white person. So are white people not allowed in Mali? Is every white person that steps off a plane at Bamako-Senou International invading the country? Is all hope lost for positive engagement between Western countries and formerly colonized nations? In what ways is she trying to “subdue” Mali? She says herself that, “…I am most rewarded when I do not push back. By examining each difficulty and holding it in my hand, turning it over with my fingers, I am learning more about myself than I thought I could know.” How is that not a sincere effort to understand her environment, herself and the way she relates to those around her?
Fortunately for Jennie, this moment of bought-and-paid-for character growth
-See “college” in general and “study abroad” in particular. As a student at a liberal arts college, if you’ve attended a class or done study abroad you’re guilty of this too. Do honestly thing we pay 50 grand a year for the food?
Unfortunately for Mali, and for the world, she, like so many other students who go abroad to “find themselves,” merely reproduces the ideological domination of colonialism: she grows as a person, all the more sure of her worth for staring the other in the eye, and Mali is graced by her conspicuously pale presence. Everyone wins, right?
-You’re going too far with this. She never comments on her identity as a white woman in Mali. But I can if you’d like. You probably wouldn’t like to hear that 9 out of 10 men I speak to tell me how they want to marry “une blanche”. You probably wouldn’t like to know that my friend’s host mother has asked her to intervene when discussing family matters with my friend’s host-father, because as a 22 year-old white woman she is more influential than the man’s wife of 30+ years. You probably would be saddened to hear about how our seats are always positioned in the most visible locations so that the whole world can see that there’s a white person present. Are we comfortable with this dynamic? Of course not! What is it that we can do about it? Tell the bus driver he’s a racist for wanting to marry me? Say no to a mother who’s asking for help? Refuse an offer that is meant to be an honor? How culturally appropriate is that?
So far the only solution I’ve found for dealing with this type of enormously difficult situation is to try and understand where this issue is coming from and why it makes us uncomfortable. Jennie had a word-limit, so it’s understandable why she wouldn’t try to tackle the source of all of these huge issues, but I am grateful for her attempt to share with us the process of self-reflection that we all must go through when confronted with these kinds of experiences.
To truly work against the colonial conditions which Jennie finds so revolting, we must seek to understand and undo the identity politics which demarcate the poor from the rich, both across and within borders, and only then can anyone work against the structures of colonialism.
-I’m all for understanding. I think reflection is a necessary and enriching activity to engage in. But what do you do once you’ve had your think? Work to empower the people around you so that the power imbalance that is the source of the above-mentioned scenarios no longer exists? Hmmm, I think at some point you mentioned that that’s what Jennie was doing…
I’m glad that you are challenging yourself and that you find the experience in Africa rewarding. I have a few questions. Just curious, which obscure Malian language did you learn? Was it Bambara?
“the betterment of our personal lives, for the progress of our society and possibly for the enhancement of our world: cultivating a lifestyle that seeks and accepts opportunities that challenge, encourages new perspectives and requires not only self-reflection, but deliberation on all of humanity. By engaging so honestly and thoroughly with our own selves, we, along with our communities, will undoubtedly benefit.”
Who is included in the “our” here?
You might like this
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDWlMX2ToSc
Hello Jennie,
Excuse my language a bit.
I think this article does not make any sense.Sorry for this.You have to get out of your comfort zone in order to live and experience life. You based your success on your discomfort in Mali, which to me does not make any sense!I would love to hear a philosophical or any hypothesis that can relate discomfort and success.
Ok,I assume you have no knowledge of Geography,Africa is a continent,not a country. You generalization was too vague. Your article seem to reflect the entire continent, yet Am sure you did have have a chance to visit every corner of mali. Sometimes we are compelled to write to express our achievements, but I would strongly advise that people should write about facts. Let us not try to show ignorance in name of success. I have seen people write their achievements, arguing that they have visited chaotic,dirty hostile Africa. It does not show how much you know or have done,but how little you have learned to live with situations. people have been living in the same place you visited since the existence of life, but am sure they would never describe the place as chaotic,noisy,dirty and all the choice of words that you chose to describe it. I also don’t get why this would be something worth of describing in your article. In conclusion, I would kindly recommend that you learn how people live, why they live that way, how life is different from one place to the other, and MOST importantly,the meaning of life. You need to get out from your individualistic perspective to the broader spectrum of all human beings. I don’t blame you,I assume you grew up in a neighborhood where you knew a couple of friends from school and may be cousins,but you never had a chance to experience what it means to live with the world. It is perfectly normal here in US. Sorry for my inappropriate language,but your article was not that good as well.
“people have been living in the same place you visited since the existence of life, but am sure they would never describe the place as chaotic,noisy,dirty and all the choice of words that you chose to describe it. I also don’t get why this would be something worth of describing in your article.”
– My host family, who lives in Bamako, describes it as chaotic, noisy and dirty all the time. I don’t know whether it’s the open sewers or the complete lack of public sanitation services (garbage cans don’t exist because there is no established system of garbage collection), but let me assure you, it is chaotic, noisy, and dirty. And let me address those New York City comments here as well: Any comparison to New York City simply demonstrates the fact that you have either not been to Bamako, or you stayed in your hotel room the whole time you were here.
“Experiences like these have not only reconfigured my perceptions of the world and expanded my horizons, but have also assaulted my convictions, challenged my identity and provoked me to thoroughly engage and grapple with my previously solidified philosophies.”
Ironic isn’t it that you still wrote this article the way you did?
“Love the unlovable. Discover, enlighten and be kind along the way.” Enlighten the unlovable Malians, shall we?
Whoa now. No need to get snide. She never said Malians were unlovable. In fact, I believe she mentioned that she’s made great friends during her time in Mali. What she said is that the experience was challenging, the city was dirty, and the food sucked, which in no way implies a blanket dislike for the country OR the people.
When I read this article I laughed a lot, not because I found it funny, of course not if I carry African blood in me! I thought people go to school to get better and be able to impact the society positively but clearly this is not the case. This is the best example of how liberal art education is stripped its value completely. Dear Jennie, you were given the opportunity to explore and learn, surprisingly you came back with tones of insults. May be you do not even realize that there are Africans on this campus. I am sorry to say that your article was the harshest and most insulting thing that was put right in my face. Listen, African cities may not have the fanciest and posh things but they still serve their purposes. There are millions of Mali people who were born and have always lived in Bamako because it is where they find peace, love and a sense of belonging. So please, show some respect, it is neither hard nor expensive! And by the way, why do you use Bamako to characterize all the cities of Africa? There are 52 countries in Africa and so there are more than 52 major cities in the continent. Have you been to all those cities to draw such conclusions? Perhaps, classes in statistics will do you good since you clearly know not of outliers and exceptions. Additionally, NYC is dirty too, the subways are dirty, loud and there are a lot homeless people but we do not go to “The Voice” and publish our insults regardless of how we may feel about the situation. Why is it that Africa should characterize horrendous things? “The food was horrendous,” how funny, I do not like cold sandwich, pizza and lasagna to say the least, yet I do not publish that American food is horrendous. Why? Simply, respect. If I do not like it, it does not mean it is ‘horrendous’ it just how I feel.
Speaking of the poverty in Mali and Africa in general, I am pretty sure your parents are wealthy people and you never had to deal with real life situation. Why finding faults in Africa while you can experience disasters 5 minutes from Connecticut College? Have you even volunteered before? I worked at covenant shelter of New London and I learned that there are still a lot of people who cannot even sustain their daily lives here in America. Isn’t America supposed to be “The Land of equal opportunities, freedom and democracy? How humiliating can it be to ask an institution to feed you and your babies but you do not know about these things. God knows may be you live on the last floor of some tall building in Beverly Hills!
Finally, why do you feel like you have persevered and you deserve a crown for your 4 months stay in loud and dirty Mali as you put it? if I could honor people who went through hell on earth, I would do so to the: slaves of 1700’s – 1800’s who despite inhumane treatments they received, still made it, example late Olaudah Equiano, men and women who pay health insurance, yet the companies do all they can to disqualify the benefits, little boys and girls who are sexually assaulted verbally and physically and the poorest marginal populations with no one to fight for them. These are the people who deserve praise and honor for standing up again and again despite the storm not you, my dear, who spent 4 months in Mali.
Thank you very much for sharing your experience and remember that we appreciate your opinions and views as long as their diplomatically friendly, politically correct and in depth.
You may not think that what she had to say was fair to the people who live in Mali but you cant tell her that she cannot have an opinion like she does. Part of the liberal arts education is hearing ideas that are contrary to your own. I don’t agree with her views either and it is sad that that is what she got out of her time abroad but what you are saying is rude and counter -productive. How is degrading someone’s opinion constructive to her. I imagine that you were trying to voice your concerns and maybe give this girl a new perspective but that was not accomplished by your response. Everyone has a right to have and voice ideas. It would be nice if they were politically correct but who says they have to be. You cannot expect the world to coddle you or anyone. Hurtful things are said. Learn from it and grow.
why should you be politically correct? I quite like the fact that she is frank about her views. It’s better than all of us pretending otherwise. Yes, admit it, most of the third world is dirty and noisy in the cities. That’s not the point. The point is that the experience is in some way a narcissistic fulfillment, and the thrust of the article is that others are encouraged to do the same. She is not to be blamed personally, at least she speaks frankly.
“There are millions of Mali people who were born and have always lived in Bamako because it is where they find peace, love and a sense of belonging. So please, show some respect, it is neither hard nor expensive!”
– How does what she said negate any of their feelings about Mali? She recounted an inter-cultural experience, in which a person from one culture enters another culture and has to deal with the enormous differences that exist there. If a Malian were to come to America and write the same things about the US, that’s how I would understand their comments.
“Speaking of the poverty in Mali and Africa in general, I am pretty sure your parents are wealthy people and you never had to deal with real life situation. Why finding faults in Africa while you can experience disasters 5 minutes from Connecticut College? Have you even volunteered before? I worked at covenant shelter of New London and I learned that there are still a lot of people who cannot even sustain their daily lives here in America. Isn’t America supposed to be “The Land of equal opportunities, freedom and democracy? How humiliating can it be to ask an institution to feed you and your babies but you do not know about these things. God knows may be you live on the last floor of some tall building in Beverly Hills!”
– What does her possibly being rich have anything to do with anything? Does that negate the experiences that she had or the discomfort that she felt? It was all real, no matter how much her parents make, and that is what she was sharing with us. Does she need to be on food stamps for you to find her conclusions credible?
“if I could honor people who went through hell on earth, I would do so to the: slaves of 1700’s – 1800’s who despite inhumane treatments they received, still made it, example late Olaudah Equiano, men and women who pay health insurance, yet the companies do all they can to disqualify the benefits, little boys and girls who are sexually assaulted verbally and physically and the poorest marginal populations with no one to fight for them. These are the people who deserve praise and honor for standing up again and again despite the storm not you, my dear, who spent 4 months in Mali.”
– She’s not asking for praise. Having amoebic dysentery when your bathroom consists of a hole in the ground is tough though, and I think that’s all she was trying to communicate. And I’m surprised you forgot Holocaust victims. That’s the usual go-to for the whole “your problems are bullshit” argument.
This article reflects all that is wrong with international development, white people “Saving the world,” generalizing about Africa, generalizing about “poverty” and of course utter ignorance and insensitivity to the world around you.
No. If she were insensitive to the world, she would have a blast in Mali. Cuz you can do that. You can go out to clubs every weekend, eat at ex-pat restaurants, and make no attempt to interact with the people and problems you see around you. Discomfort is a sign that you’re letting something get to you. And she was really uncomfortable.
HUH? ”I found myself amidst chaos that is characteristic only of an African city” this is pure ignorance
”Go somewhere you’re not sure you can find on a map.” Ei so Africa is a lost continent? ummmm please get your facts right!
My entire family thought Mali was an island in the Pacific when I told them I was going to be living there for a year. So I guess we’re bad people too.
Dear Jenny,
I respect your opinion however; you should be careful next time you make assumptions and judgments about a place just because you were there for a semester. It’s unfortunate that you went all the way from the US to Mali to increase your misconceptions about a developing country, which are far from real.
Although, I am not African I felt deeply insulted when I read your article. Ok. You can express your thoughts, however DO NOT generalize and use derogatory words about a country, and even a whole continent, to describe your experience.
Do not put a country down, just because you want to look like the hero of your story. Like the one who survive. That’s not fair.
I have visited many cities in Africa, and they are normal places, with chaos yes but also with a lot of beauty and harmony, depending of the place that you go (as in everywhere)…..and let me tell you, I think the food is delicious!
It seems that the whole point of studying abroad didn’t get to you. Next, time when you travel do it in a more thoughtful, respectful, and humble way so you can truly learn…
[humility]–noun
the quality or condition of being humble; modest opinion or estimate of one’s own importance, rank, etc.
Jennie
when I am often asked if I live in a hut or if my people bounce from tree to tree to go from a place to another, I no longer get offended cause I tell myself that this person does not know any better and has been fed one sided and sometimes wrong information about the countries of the African continent (note that I do not use the word Africa to avoid a loss in generality). Deep inside I know that thanks to cheaper labour cost and large land availability, there is a high probability that the house I live in is nicer and larger than his or hers. However, when a student attempting to get a college degree in a school that praises itself about the fact that its ” students and faculty work closely together to create a vibrant social, CULTURAL and intellectual community enriched by DIVERSE perspectives”, I cant help but feeling sorry. Sorry about how you are showcasing a clear lack of obedience to the “principles” of your school and about how much money has been waisted in your study abroad tuition at the expense of an another student who could have made a much better use of that experience. Going to Mali should have been for you an opportunity to step out of your comfort zone, see what the world has to offer and understand a DIFFERENT culture. Unfortunately, you are telling us that you have been there and as a result has empowered yourself and realised how much of a hero you are for surviving through the “chaos” of that minuscule community you have been to and that you refer to as Africa. Please allow me to ask if you have stepped into a house in the district of Faladie in Bamako (right were you are) or traveled to Lagos, Johannesburg, Dakar, Casablanca, Cairo….before making a statement such as ” I found myself amidst chaos that is characteristic ONLY of an African city” Every city on earth has a “chaotic” dimension to it and no need to go far from our college doors to see that. Every city also has its beauty as defined by its population but also beauty as you would define it. Please take the time to explore all corners of Mali first and the african continent as a whole (or a substential number of cities) before making such a generalisation.
Also please allow me to say that it is “horrendous” of you to qualify the food you had as “horrendous”. It is not because you do not like it or that it is different from what you know that you would use such strong and negative words. There are very nice dishes in Mali and even if you do not like the local food, go to any restaurant or hotel and you can get an international menu made by professional chefs. The women who made the food for you have been cooking for years and it is insulting to say such things about the food they made.
I do not blame you because you have approached Mali with a default story already in mind: “you had a single story of Africa. A single story of catastrophe.” and what is sad is that you seem to still have it. Conclusion: you failed this course.
You are urging us to “Remember the good as well as the bad” please next time mention the good and the bad about the places you are visiting and not about how good you have been and please remember : Africa is NOT a single country but 50+. I am not Malian but now thanks to you, I feel like I am….
When I am often asked if I live in a hut or if my people bounce from tree to tree to go from a place to another, I no longer get offended cause I tell myself that this person does not know any better
– Who asked you this? Did you smack them? Please say yes.
Going abroad isn’t be about finding yourself, it’s about finding other people and cultures.
You don’t need to fly halfway across the world to marvel at the spectacle of poverty. Take a stroll through New London sometime.
I’m glad you managed to turn a nation’s problems into a source of personal betterment. But this world of ours isn’t an “us and them” deal. You and I might both live in a Connecticut suburb or something, but it turns out the kid down the hall is actually Malian. So try and be a little more respectful.
Unlike the majority of comments here I do not intend to go on the attack in order to tell you exactly what problems I had when I read this article. I would rather address an issue, which I think is more worthwhile. I understand why people get upset and frustrated when they read this article. It comes off as demeaning and it shows us that despite the so called global movement taking place in this day and age we still have a lot of progress to make. This saddens me and I wish it were not true. What we should consider more, I think, is how to remedy this issue.I do not think that the solution is to bash and tear apart each and every piece of this article for the sole purpose of making the author more than aware of her wrongdoings. Of course it is necessary to some extent that it is pointed out what the main issues are here, but I believe that there is a much better way of doing so. I was happy to see that some students actually were more rational in their responses to this article, taking on the role of the educator rather than the harsh critic. I do not think that Jennie desired to hurt anyone when she wrote this article, and I think assuming that she did is wrong. However, regardless if the intentions were good it is evident that this article did not have a good impact and was written in a way that was very insensitive to others.I would urge you to take some of your own advice. Look back on what you have written, think about the impact of your words and how perhaps you were misled into thinking that it was out of some noble cause that you wrote this. And please be more cautious about what you say, it is not always easy for us to accept that what we say can be so hurtful to others when it does not occur to us, next time try to be more mindful of the way others might interpret your work
I could cite this article in my final paper on Orientalism! While I am entirely certain it was unintentional, it comes off as thoroughly, if accidentally, racist.
First I want to say that each individual is entitled to their own opinion and that they are free to express those opinions in the manner in which they choose despite the fact that what they say may be hurtful and a testimony to their ignorance of diversity. I traveled to Barcelona, Spain for my abroad experience and visited Paris for a few days while on Spring Break. I also spent the summer in Haiti for my CELS internship, leaving from Spain with a two week rest period then off to Haiti. In doing so, I got the most shocking experience of going from a “developed” country to one of the poorest countries in the world. Also coupled in there was my experience as a working-poor class female from the south. As I and many other students do on a regular basis, using your study abroad experience to understand some of the many cultures present in the world and to gain an education that allows you to begin doing the work of ending racist mentalities. This is a golden opportunity than many people do not receive. I am first sorry that your experience was not exactly a pleasurable one but this lack of pleasure you expressed leads me to question your reasons for wanting to study abroad in the first place. Did you simply want a semester to run around in Europe spending money and visiting local attractions or were you in search of an experience to see how other cultures function and understand the vast diversity in lifestyles that exists on this planet?
While your article is disappointing to read, I am more saddened by the fact that I did not find it very shocking coming from you. I do not know you personally nor would I like to after reading this article, however based solely on your presentation of Mali and your venemous nature in describing a culture different than your own, I believe you have the potential for a lot of personal growth in the future if you take the comments you’ve received about your article and constructively and actively work towards having a more global understanding of the world.
You mentioned that the food was “horrendous”, that women were having the number of children they were having in order to bring prestige to their husbands, and that the conditions you had to endure were instrumental in the personal growth you acheived while in Mali. Let me first say this, white people cannot cook very well, they have families that are too small and not close-knit, and they live in conditions that help increase the wealth gap of not only the United States but the world as a whole. This is my opinion of white people, uneditted for political correctness and presented for the purpose of showing you that everyone has an opinion that can cause hurt in others. When you looked at Mali, you used your white, probably middle to upper-class perspective and did not allow room for understanding. You went to a nation undoubtably expecting to have your own comforts met one way or another despite the fact that the area you were planning to visit did not typically have the amenities that you are so accustomed to. While you could have easily testified to your discomfort in an unfamiliar place without putting down an entire nation and continent of people, you did not do so. You attacked the lifestyle and reality of individuals who have maintained for decades without the extra amenities that you so often take for granted and probably view as necessary in your life.
While in Haiti, I lived amongst individuals who did not have running water in their homes, who had very little m oney but managed to provide some sort of nutrition for their families, who could not afford such posh accessories that we American’s as a whole take as the norm (i.e. toaster ovens, ovens, stoves, kitchens in the home, etc.) Even in the conditions these amazing individuals lived in and have lived in for their entire lives, I met the most friendly, strong, and motivated people I’ve ever encountered in my life. If you have not returned yet, you should really take the time to try to understand why people are living the way they are and try to evaluate how the way you live your life creates the cruel cycle of poverty that persists in this world.
Let me first say this, white people cannot cook very well, they have families that are too small and not close-knit, and they live in conditions that help increase the wealth gap of not only the United States but the world as a whole.
– This is not hurtful. This is a useful and insightful assessment, just like Jennie’s article.
While I don’t feel that this article is an affront to all of Africa or the ultimate example of exoticism, it is very flawed. Besides the very questionable allusions made to your struggles in a what you saw as a discomforting culture, the article seems entirely too focused on generic descriptions of your self development. Perhaps if you had try to better communicate what the great and challenging moments you experienced in Mali where instead of trying to throw out one example of a tenuous birth and then launching into a few hundred word about how your battered spirit somehow endure the abuse of Mali.
While some people may have a little aggressively jumped all over your poor choice of language to describe your experience, I feel like you perhaps should deserve some benefit of the doubt writing this travelogue near the end of what sounded like an emotional semester for you. However, the idea that before this journey your philosophies had already completely solidified as a sophomore in college is worrisome indeed.
Jennie, you still have a lot to learn. Lets leave it at that.
Jennie,
I am sure you did not mean to hurt anybody’s feelings with this article. You intended the total opposite, I assume.
Yet, your ideas are the proof of how prejudice is persistent, and how it does not go away with two-months of travelling the ‘dirty’ roads of Mali (Have you seen NY city ever? I think it’s dirtier than many developing countries I have been to with franc honesty…oh but yeah, it’s all a matter of Perspective, something that you quite clearly have forgotten)
The reasoning that underlies your article is the kind of reasoning of development institutions as well. Sure they want to help developing countries “develop”, but hey…let’s start by reconsidering some things.
Take for instance your first paragraph, where you describe with tacit outrage the situation of women in Mali. I agree. There are clearly some serious issues at stake, like the poor quality of health care and some gender problems that Might (MIGHT) be one of the causes of high birth rates.
These are the kind of arguments that dominate World Bank, IMF, UN organizations, and NGOs agenda for development as well. But, strategies to tackle poverty in the developing world by encouraging women to not have more babies is appalling and to a certain extent, outright racist. Particularly when you look at the contrasting worry around European countries’ decreasing rates of fertility, where in some countries governments actually pay women to have cute lil babies!
If policymakers were actually interested in development, why don’t they start by urging the citizens of the (over?) developed world to engage in a deep soul searching about the consequences of their life styles?
Or should we start by asking women in the developed world to spare us from their offspring, because our planet cannot keep up with more people of their kind that will be unable to ever stop consuming? In fact, why don’t development policymakers begin by telling us their idea of “a world in which individuals live constructively in dignity and sufficiency” (Mies)?
Is their idea of dignity and sufficiency an euphemism for the possession of a TV for the living room, three SUV cars to fill the garage, an endless and unnecessary number of kitchen appliances, and summer vacations in paradise-like islands?
If that’s their understanding of development, then I would wholeheartedly agree that we are too many in this world. Without a doubt, our planet cannot provide for this lifestyle for everybody.
I can go on forever. But I will be happy to sit and chat with you about this and many other problematic assumptions that you brought up in your article. Dialogue is the first step to uproot the kind of fears and perceptions that can end up hurting a great deal.
I have spent the last 4 months in East Africa. Most of it was in Tanzania, but more recently in Uganda and currently Rwanda (which I believe may be technically Central Africa, but that’s not the point). I say this to establish some background: Jennie and I have, perhaps, shared similar experiences in recent months, albeit from opposite sides of this vast continent. It seems that we have come to somewhat different conclusions about them, but that is also not the point.
The point is that the attacks on this article are unfair and ironically based on, well, racial or national assumptions. Who cares if she didn’t like Malian food, or that the cities are crowded and dirty? (I personally like the food on this side, but it is true that some of the cities here are more crowded and more dirty than any others I have seen in the world – more so than in Europe, South America, the Middle East or Asia.) But disliking the food is not to say the whole population lives in horror or should be pitied for it, and is not to say that she writes from a position of self-superiority.
Her descriptions, to me, seem plausible if somewhat subjective; not colonial or superior in the least. Instead, the audience’s conclusion that she is “degrading Mali” reflects the attitude that if any white American who runs the risk of being affluent writes or says anything that is not wholly positive and uplifting about an underdeveloped nation, they are being patronizing or worse.
This is not a productive nor racially unbiased view: Mali has some problems, and it is OK to mention them. Jennie doesn’t really even talk about the problems, just the cultural boundaries that make her uncomfortable in the abstract. Maybe a Malian would be just as uncomfortable in the bustle of New York City, and it would be okay for them to say so.
Wake up. Saying you are uncomfortable is not an unforgivable act of racism, nor is saying that the lifestyle someplace else is different from home – in fact, the idea of race or “nativeness” comes up only in readers’ reactions. So get up off your high horses and take the article for what it is, I believe, meant to be: a testament that things overseas can be different, can be dangerous, and can be uncomfortable, but that those very characteristics widen perspectives and appreciation for the world and are therefore entirely worth it.
The cliches and misuse of words aside, you need to take an anthropology class. You’ve totally missed the point, and embarrassed yourself in the process. I’ll be sure not to go to a Malian restaurant anytime soon.
It is a shame that the comments on this article will likely deter the author from writing on her experiences again. I am fairly certain that it is in the CC brochure that students are “supposed” to have a certain experience abroad, like what Cinthia said: “It seems that the whole point of studying abroad didn’t get to you. Next, time when you travel do it in a more thoughtful, respectful, and humble way so you can truly learn…”
The whole “point” of study abroad? Travel in a more “thoughtful, respectful, and humble way”? Choose your battles, Connecticut College. Jennie Edgar’s intentions were thoughtful, respectful, and humble. However like most Americans who travel to Africa, it is rarely easy to maintain comfort, and without fail, an African city will seem chaotic. (Note: I know, because I have traveled to several African cities, and none felt very comfortable initially).
This article is frank. Honesty is not always pretty, and I commend the author for discussing her discomfort. Really pushing boundaries is not something that the CC brochures advertise, however it is the very reality of studying abroad outside of Europe.
I took particular issue with Ines’ comment. Ines, you said “I am sorry to say that your article was the harshest and most insulting thing that was put right in my face.” More eloquently, Andrew Crimer framed this idea of “insult” in terms of Fanon’s work. He said:
Unfortunately for Mali, and for the world, she, like so many other students who go abroad to “find themselves,” merely reproduces the ideological domination of colonialism: she grows as a person, all the more sure of her worth for staring the other in the eye, and Mali is graced by her conspicuously pale presence. Everyone wins, right?
I’m sorry, but did everyone forget what Jennie was doing in Mali? Jennie is looking to become a doctor one day, and rather than make a lot of money in the US, she pushed herself out of the United States into a country that really need doctors, and that could truly benefit from a woman who holds a position of power within the community, especially a woman who is invested in empowering other women. This, to me, does not represent Jennie’s “pale presence,” but rather a very bright and needed one in Africa.
And as I mentioned, Connecticut College: choose your battles. Jennie Edgar is not a threat to Africa.
Africa has been portrayed so many times in a negative light by the media that Africans are automatically defensive when non-Africans talk about their homeland. This is a natural reaction, and unless you come from a place that is constantly put down by the media, you wouldn’t understand. There are many great things about Africa, but these almost never show up in the media. So I suggest you keep this in mind when reading some of the comments here.
Being African myself, I know how it feels when a stranger visits your home, and leaves with nothing good to say. But I wont let my patriotism and love for my continent blind me to the harsh realities. Most Africans have an ideal job in mind; they want to be doctors, lawyers, wealthy accountants. This is partly because of tough economic conditions people grow up in, that they are trying to escape. As a result we have fewer people in jobs that focus on women and children and history. So these positions are filled by foreigners. Because we do not want to take the time to study the conditions our women and children live in, foreigners come and do it, and ultimately, we do not like the report.
The simple solution will be to have African women take care of African women. If we really don’t like what white people are gonna say when they come to “help” us, then we should get up and help ourselves. This will reduce the need for people to fly half way across the world to be put in uncomfortable positions. Then we will not have to deal with articles like this one and people’s angry responses.