I just finished “The Poisonwood Bible” by Barbara Kingsolver a couple of weeks ago, and since then I’ve been thinking a lot about the African concept of gift giving (funny thing about Peace Corps – you have a lot of time to think). The book itself is about a Southern Baptist family that goes to live in the Congo in the 1950s, and even without living in Africa, it’s a fantastic read. Really, go get it.
Okay, why it’s got me thinking: I don’t want to spoil the story, but towards the end the family finds out that during their absolute worst times, the people in their village were always giving them little things secretly, even though the villagers had next to nothing to give.
People here are always, always asking me for gifts. If I go to Parakou on break, they want gifts, if I go to Cotonou to work, they want gifts, and sometimes they just want gifts for no reason. To a Westerner who’s grown up in America, the land that lauds hard work and individualism, people just walking up and saying “give me a gift, yovo,” is really kind of aggravating. Why should I give you a gift? What have you done for me?
But see, here’s the thing: if a Beninese person has even a little extra, he/she will give it away. If a family’s papaya tree gives more fruit than the family needs, they’ll almost always give it to someone rather than selling it for their own benefit. I’ve gotten a lot of fruit this way (and mango season’s coming soon!). They also give little presents just because—when I sit outside with the mamas, a lot of times someone will hand me a little dish of roasted peanuts or a freshly peeled orange. Nothing gigantic or ostentatious, but just a little something to show their friendship.
I can’t say it doesn’t bug me when half of the village asks me what I’ve brought them every time I leave town. This last time, for example, people I’ve never spoken to came up to me to ask why I hadn’t brought them things from Parakou. I am, however, starting to understand why it’s that way.
Even though I don’t like it, part of the issue is that I’m white, and most white people here have more money than the average villager. And I do: I shop in supermarkets sometimes, I travel, I have electricity and a nice bike and enough clothes to change my outfit every day of the week. They see that, and to them, it just makes sense. She has a little extra, why wouldn’t she want to share?
4 comments:
I read Poisonwood Bible junior year of High School. I don't remember it all, but I do remember thinking it was pretty good.
Hey Melissa! It's your cousin Jenny from Tennessee. Just wanted to say I've really enjoyed reading your blog, and I am amazed at all of the new things you're taking on. I've had The Poisonwood Bible on my shelf for a long time, but have never read it. Maybe I'll try to get to it soon. :-)
Best wishes and keep writing!
Your second (I think) cousin from Leawood, KS - Charlotte Merrill - loved The Poisonwood Bible, pretty gut wrenching.
Hey niece, Uncle Bill from Austin here. Just checked your blog for the first time in a couple of months. Glad you're getting to travel, that was a real bonus to the P.C. And you mention you have a lot of time to think. Yeah, I read more "Great Books" and by more of the great authors than at any other time of my life when I was in the P.C. Saw that picture of your hand full of hair -- eek, woman, take vitamins or learn how to slaughter a cow and cook it, or something! I'll check you again next month dear, love you and am proud of you.
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