Cotton harvest

January means the cotton is being harvested in my village.  This is a load that will sit for a day or two until it is ready to be shipped out.  I've seen 2 or 3 big dumptruck loads taken away now.  What the farmers do is sell it in bulk and then divide the profits based on each perentage contribution to the overall total weight.

They grow cotton as a cash crop seemingly because that's how it's been done for years.  Some younger farmers have said that it isn't the most profitable.  Sesame can be grown cheaper, using fewer chemicals (fertilizer?) and gives more money in the end.  But tradition is king here and if that's how it's always been done, then by golly that's what we're gonna do.

I got invited to a fellow teacher's wedding (wedding description a little NSFW)

I was a little worried that I wouldn't be able to show what a wedding is like in a Burkinabe village because the pictures would likely be inappropriate by American standards.  Luckily, I got invited to a more 'city' wedding and everyone was fully covered.  Be warned, I'm going to get a little serious about the nature of weddings here, and it can be pretty bad for women.

My friend and coworker Drissa (center) had his wedding ceremony for his side of the family in a small city named Toussiana, about an hour from Siniena (my village).  Government workers (i.e. teachers) often work very far from their hometown or village and Drissa is lucky enough to teach in the same region where he grew up.  I guess the government likes to mix up languages and cultures to encourage cultural unity countrywide.  Left is my village buddy Jacques and right is some family members that I was introduced to, but the music and celebration makes it impossible to remember or hear names.  They had a different ceremony for her (pictured in red) side of the family in her family's village a few days before. 

It was a lot of fun and fairly similar to American weddings.  This was the more official of the two ceremonies and took place at the government building where they signed the Burkina equivalent of the license.  There was food and singing and dancing and everyone gets shirts made from matching fabric chosen by the husband (I think).  There was the reading of vows and at the end everyone shouted kisskisskiss!

There is always nonstop food at Burkinabe weddings.  The usual rice and tô (i need to make a post about tô) and there are often sacrificial chickens, beef and sheep.  Cokes and Fantas and beers for everyone.  I usually go for Fanta or beer even though I prefer Coke.  I can still only drink Coke ice cold.  

People gave speaches, the bride and groom had their dance, followed by the traditional convey through town where everyone gets on their motorcycles and constantly honks their horns.  Now here is where it gets more interesting.

Like I said. I can post pictures of the city weddings because they are somewhat wattered down compared to village weddings.  You might doubt the wildness, but the picture above is considered a formal reception photo for guests to take.  For the vows though, she was wearing a white dress. 

I've been to two other weddings in my village and they can be a little intimidating and depressing.  Intimidating because they go nonstop for 36 hours at least (no joke) and depressing because the girl can easily be as young as 15, though the two that I saw were 19 and 22.  There is also a point where the wife to be and her mom take a collection basket around and everyone pops in a 10cfa piece or two.  For the really village weddings, the wife to be dances up to all the guests and because she is a little sweaty you can stick the coins to her shoulders or forehead, and her mom follows with the basket and picks them up.

From my experience, it's hard for me to imagine Burkinabe villagers marrying for love.  Drissa really seems to love his wife, but they are both functionaries, well educated, and in a small minority.  I went to a wedding where a girl from my village was marrying an Ivoirian (from Ivory Coast) businessman who came into town seemingly to pick a nice docile village girl.  Like you would pick an apple out at the store.  I've had converations with villagers where it's taken a disturbing amount of time to explain that in America you can't just buy a wife and then take her home with you.  I get the smooth condescending smiles that say "you just don't understand life in Africa".  I can't count the number of times that some woman in the market has informed me (jokingly) that she is going to come be my wife.  Take care of my house for me.  It's kind of a funny turnaround, like now I'm the commodity.  A ticket out of the village.  Marriage tends to be a social transaction everywhere, but I can only distantly compare a small town American wedding to an African village one.  Everyone seems to win; the man gets a house manager and the woman gets to leave her family compound, possibly even gets to live in a city, but I haven't witnessed love yet.  I don't doubt that romance exists in Burkina Faso, it just exists on a level that is undetectable to my eyes, and covered by a layer of ambition and hunger.