Portrayal of Paris in the social imaginary of Zouglou music.

“A Paris quand tu vois un blanc, il est sale mais sa maison est propre. Mais quand tu vois un noir il est propre mais sa maison est saaaaale…”

“In Paris when you see a white person, he is dirty but his house is clean. But when you see a black person, he is clean but his house is diiiiirrrrtyyyy…”

Since the inception of my project, I have often received commentary on the benefits that such an experience would provide. Yet, I cannot help but notice that to many of my interlocutors, their attraction to this project revolves mostly around France.  Comments such as “I can’t believe you will get to tour Europe for a whole year!” or “I really wish I could come enjoy some red wine on the streets of Paris with you” seem to drive this point home. Despite my attempts to mention that my European leg is followed by an even longer African one, I realize that the forces associated with North America’s fascination with Europe constantly undermine my efforts. Indeed, Paris is the object of much wonderment and admiration in many cultures. Love, romance, architecture, food and wine are just some of the prevalent archetypes associated with this city in the western social imaginary. Similarly some of the same motifs are also present in African societies (possibly due to globalization); however, there are other peculiar ones that are specific to their respective contexts.

The years 1999 and 2000 can arguably be described as the “confirmation” years for Zouglou music. It is during these years that Magic System released their 1er Gaou hit song which went on to top several African, European and American music charts (see previous blog post here: http://renaissancejuste.blogspot.ca/2014_02_01_archive.html). This success validated Zouglou as a musical style and provided a certain degree of exposure to other artists. During this period, several albums featured at least one song with Paris as its central theme.  Magic System’s Un gaou à Paris (Translated: An idiot in Paris) or Secret D’Africain (translated: African secret) or Petit Yodé and L’enfant Siro Bengué (Paris in Ivorian street slang) are all examples of such songs.

A striking characteristic that a lot of these songs share is the representation of Paris (possibly synonymous with France) as a form of societal aspiration. In Un gaou à Paris, Magic System recounts the challenges of an immigrant’s first day in Paris. The lyrics provide insight and stark observations on the realities of life in the West as seen from an outsider’s perspective.  Asalfo (the group’s lead) sings about things ranging from the cold weather to the “coldness” of the people.

Translation	Original
I left Abidjan and it was 34 deg C In Paris it was 2 deg C. … You don’t smoke yet you see smoke coming out of your mouth … What kind of country is this where people don't greet each other? Everyone seems to be in a hurry.	Je quitte Abidjan à 34 deg Arrive à Paris, 2 deg … Tu ne fumes pas, fumée sort de ta bouche … C’est quel pays où il n’y a pas bonjour Tout le monde est pressé

While most of the song deals with the disillusionment of the gaou faced with the harsh realities of European life, it begins with the following lyrics:

Translation	Original
My dream was to go to Paris I didn’t know what was waiting for me over there.	Mon rêve c’était d’aller à Paris Je ne savais pas ce qui m’attendait

This immigration “dream” accurately reflects the ambitions of many Ivorian and (without fear of over-generalization) possibly West African youths. Looking back at my experiences growing up in Benin, Ivory Coast and Ghana, Paris in French speaking countries, and London or “Yankee” (US) in English speaking countries, unquestionably had an important symbolic function in the social fabric in these regions. As youths, we all aspired to eventually further our education “abroad”.  Even though this was partly due to our countries lacking the proper educational infrastructure to accommodate our academic ambitions, I also believe that we unknowingly succumbed to some of the latent effects of colonialism. To us, “abroad” offered more than a space to pursue post-secondary education; it was also a means to socially assert ourselves amongst our peers.  In school, kids who had spent summers in those cities were considered with higher regard than kids who spent their vacations at home. Moreover, clothes and electronics purchased “abroad” held intrinsically more value in our eyes (It is fair to note that in certain instances such items were either simply not available on our local markets or their cost was prohibitive). In short, “abroad” was always considered better than “here”.

The pretense of Paris (France, Europe, The West, “abroad”, however you want to call it.) as a perfect place is strong in the social imaginary of young West-Africans. It is this notion that Petit Yodé and l’Enfant Siro attempt to combat in their song Bengué.

Translation

Original

Since our childhood, people keep telling us that France is this dreamland, a place full of fun, a true earthly paradise. But you know that white people don’t pick names at random. If they call you Sylvester Black, it means you’re black, or Francis The Goat it means you probably look like a goat. They named their country France. When as black people we heard the word “francs”, our minds went   directly to money. However, when they say “France”, “francs” are really for white people and suffering (soufFRANCE) for black people.

Depuis on est petit, on nous parle de la France comme pays de rêve, pays de loisir, un paradis sur terre. Vous même vous savez, blanc il ne donne pas nom cadeau. S’il t’a appelé Sylvain le Noir c’est que tu es noir, Francois Mouton, tu ressembles à mouton. Ils ont appele leur pays France, nous les noirs quand on a entendu “francs” directement on a pensé à l’argent Pourtant quand on dit la France, “francs” là c’est pour les blancs, et la souffrance pour les noirs

With obligatory humour and poignant observations, they attempt to demystify the myth built around Paris in Ivorian youth culture. Paris is not necessarily portrayed as a bad place, it is depicted instead as a place with its own set of challenges (racism, hard labour, culture shock etc.) that a young immigrant might not necessarily be equipped to tackle. The phrase “Bengué est dur, Paris est dur comme caillou” (translated: Paris is hard, Paris is as hard as a rock) echoes throughout the song as if to warn potential immigrants of the hardships and tribulations that await them on the other side. The song concludes with “À Paris là-bas faites la différence parce que il y a les bons djossi” (translated: The difference in Paris is that there are some good “Mcjobs”). With this, Yodé and Siro acknowledge that despite all of its flaws, Paris can still be a city ripe with opportunities for hard working immigrants. Yet, their key point remains: Paris is not an easy city.

In less than 90 days, I will also begin my very own experience in Bengué. Between the North American and African influences that have shaped my perceptions, I have developed a complex notion of this city which makes me apprehensive. However that doesn’t matter since I will probably develop new opinions as my visit comes to an end. One thing will probably remain unchanged though : Paris will still be expensive as hell!