Notes on the Coup

Hello All,

First and foremost, let me confirm that I am safe and sound and have yet to feel any reverberations from the coup d'etat which took place yesterday. Indeed, I feel as if this event has upset the nerves of my parents more than it has any Mauritanian or Peace Corps volunteer.

For those who have yet to read about the situation on the news, allow me to provide a few details. The New York Times has a pretty encompassing article describing the events of the day, the motivations of the military junta which seized control, and some speculation on what will come to pass in the weeks and months to come. You can find it at the following link: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/07/world/africa/07mauritania.html?_r=1&ref=world&oref=slogin. As The Times relates, this is not the first coup to grace Mauritania's sable sands. Since the RIM gained independence from France in 1960, there have been about 10 coup d'etats. The last one was in 2005 and was, ironically enough, conducted by the same General who staged the coup today; I guess he has a flair for the dramatic. Until recently, Gen. Mohamed Ould Abdelaziz had supported President Sidi Ould Cheikh Abdallahi; however, a series of decisions by Sidi to enter into talks with controversial political and religious figures upset his previous support. Charges of corruption and poor leadership fanned the flames of resentment and led to a vote of no-confidence a few weeks ago. Since that time, unbeknownst to me, there have apparently been whisperings of a coup in the making, a coup which finally came to fruition today. The President and the Prime Minister were taken into custody in the early morning hours and are now being held at an indeterminate spot. A military junta led by Abdelaziz has assumed control of the government and will continue to operate in that capacity for as long as necessary. Unfortunately, I have no idea what their demands are and, therefore, no idea when they might release the President and Prime Minister. The United States, the EU, the African Union, and a scattering of other countries have called for the release of the President and PM and the restoration of the democratically-elected officials to office. Refusing to meet these demands might mean the cessation of aid from the EU and the US.

While I would recommend that everyone read the article above (because Mauritania isn't in the news often), I would advise everyone to take the news coverage with a grain of salt. Much of the uproar over this coup (if there is any) is overblown. Life drifts by as it usually does here in Rosso. There were no protests, no riots, and minimal discussion among the Mauritanian staff here at the Peace Corps training facility. A friend residing in Nouakchott informed me that the capital's atmosphere is similarly tranquil and pensive. My brother, Pacha, alone among my family members, has a definite opinion on the coup; he insists that the coup was for the better as it rids the country of a do-nothing president who was observedly corrupt. Most other members of my family consider themselves apolitical and are, therefore, unconcerned. Among the volunteers, we seem to have adopted a Hakuna Matata mentality. Though we are all on standby, ready to evacuate if necessary, we tend to view the coup a bit more shallowly than we probably should. It's the first event to have upset our daily routine of language classes and chubbagin, and I am ashamed to admit that it was kind of exciting. Obviously, my perspective would change if anyone had been injured or killed as a result.

That said, I acknowledge that a coud d'etat in a fledgling democracy does much to undermine the structures and processes set in place. If people are conditioned to expect change whenever desired, both stability and a tolerance for those ideals and attitudes different from one's own is sacrificed. Whether this sacrifice is worthwhile varies with each case. In any case, what has happened has happened, and I feel content to observe the transitioning government from the sidelines. I'll try to keep you all updated as frequently as possible.

Aside from that exciting interlude, life continues in much the same way as before. The circus of which I always feel apart remains both an amusemant and a trial at times. We are all circus performers, entertaining the hordes of Mauritanians with our hilarious and foreign antics. We dress in bizarre costumes, and we dance like monkies eager for treats; we crowd into our clown cars and conduct toubab parades on the way to class; we are always walking the tightrope, balancing our many responsibilities and new considerations, afraid of falling from grace in either the eyes of the Peace Corps or a Mauritanian. Sometimes, we wobble, thrown off balance by some force, but then we descend safely into the safety net of support among our fellow volunteers and family. Thank goodness.

Regardless of how well we perform our acts though, we remain clowns at the end of the day. According to a volunteer about to end her service, at the end of our two years here, we will still be perceived as the clown who lives next door and not the neighboor. Though I continue to discover more and more similarities between our culture and theirs, it seems the yawning gap between us and them in their eyes remains to large to bridge irregardless of our successful integration.

The role of star performer is one equally shared among all the PCV's and is indeed amusing at times. Our antics and attempts at integration make us all chuckle, Mauritanian and American alike. Running in the early morning while men in boubous stare agog in amazement; dancing as well as possible while tightly enscounced in a mulafa; preparing the tea and splashing half the water outside the demi-tasses - we make a wonderful freak show sometimes.

Of course, there are other times when the fish bowl mentality becomes tiresome. I don't like the stares I receive when I jet past early-morning market goers. I don't enjoy being compared to other female PCV's based on the frequency with which I wear a veil. And, while my Hassiniya language skills are admittledly pitiful at the moment, the laughs I receive when I practice aren't terribly encouraging.

All said and done, we are here, in part, to make their lives better and, if I can do that though laughter, even at my own expense, then I will gladly don my proverbial clown costume and red nose. Raise the bigtop and let the toubob show begin!