My first attempt at something remotely anthropological...

Here is my first attempt at defining a research topic/question for my project. I'm sure this will need further refining, but it will be interesting to revisit this in a couple of months and examine how far away from my original plan my final output actually strayed.


Assignment: Write a statement, of no more than two single-spaced pages, outlining a topic, the social scientific problem it presents, some ruling question/s, and a specification of field site. The subject matter may be your research project or an imaginary, but otherwise feasible project. 

Since the early 1990s, Ivory Coast has faced an amalgam of political, economic and other forms of societal conflict. Even though the breakout of the civil war resulting in the partition of the country in 2002 is considered by many as the highpoint of this tension (and hence the focus of the greatest amount of academic inquiry), the reality is that Ivory Coast, like many countries that have been disturbed by civil conflict, moved and continues to move through a multiplicity of phases that have shaped its current socio-political landscape. Throughout these transformations, popular music has been recognized to have played a substantive role (McGovern, 2011). In this context, “popular music” is recognized as distinct from “traditional music” in what Austin Emielu defined as ”African pop”, “a social concept which is constructed or created through prevailing socio-historical processes” (Emielu, 2011). As such, the emergence of the Zouglou genre in the early 90s and Coupé-Décalé in 2002 - both periods being coterminous with heightened levels of social tension in the country - can be seen as forms of communal response to the perceived imbalances and injustices that these styles were constructed to confront.

This assumption is made evident through a study of the lyrics and themes of the music that has been produced during these periods; however, as noted by Rob Rosenthal and Richard Flacks, song meanings as constructed by audiences are a factor of several complex dynamics including genres, musical codes, sonority, live performance, artistes’ images etc. Lyrics are therefore not equal to the message received by the audience (Rosenthal & Flacks, 2011). This difficulty with semantics is further compounded by the impossibility to positively measure the impacts of these musical styles on the nurturing or resolution of the struggles out of which they arose. In this light, the use of ethnography as a set of methods and framework to present and understand the culture and motivations of the actors engaged in the structuring of the musical, social and political landscape of Ivory Coast seems to be a necessary task. Moreover, by studying the divergences of these two particular musical styles (i.e Zouglou and Coupé-Décalé) one might be able to unmask convergences and thus abstract generalizations on the relationships that exist between music and social dynamics, in particular war and peace.

Zouglou can easily be seen as a medium through which marginalized youths have asserted themselves as a group, and have created a discursive space to communicate their demands for social inclusion and intergenerational justice to a national audience (Schumann, 2012). In this respect, Zouglou has already been the subject of an extensive body of academic study and has since received the most of attention. However, Coupé-Décalé’s function in the conflictual relationships that have shaped the country’s socio-political landscape since 2002 is less readily definable. Described by some as a form of social escapism (Boka, 2013) and a mostly apolitical musical style (Kohlhagen, 2004), existing studies of Coupé-Décalé seem to view it through a purely musicological or sociological lens, with most focusing on the ostensible meanings recovered from an analysis of the song lyrics and the lifestyles that the artistes aim to project. This music is seen by many scholars and journalists as a way for Ivoirians to merely cope with the instability that debilitated their country during that period. In 2005, Vladimir Cagnolari wrote “For a few hours, the room was transformed into an ephemeral festive temple of recklessness and "fun" that confronted the socio-political problems of a country that is still waiting for peace. …In a musical landscape dominated by patriotic and military music, Coupé-Décalé arrives as a breath of fresh air to forget the difficult context in which Ivorians are living.” (Cagnolari, 2005)

However, if we agree with Rosenthal and Flacks in their claim that meanings in music are complex and dynamic things associated with a myriad of factors that are at times out of the artistes’ control, we can then reform Coupé-Décalé as a form of subliminal political confrontation whose concealed meanings need to be uncovered. By viewing Coupé-Décalé as more than mere music, but rather as a subculture of sorts with actors influencing it from both sides of its boundaries, we can attempt to delayer it and thus better comprehend the concealed political undertones it carries. Why for example, one might ask, did the original perpetrators of the movement (the ‘Jet Set’ as they called themselves) organize themselves as a form of “government”? (President Douk Saga, Papa Ministre etc.)  Was this purely coincidental? Or was it the result of a conscious (or subconscious) process that attempted to reclaim the political order of a country whose elected officials were failing to perform their duties.

In attempting to resolve the problems outlined above, spending time in the field is a necessary process that will be characterized with data collection and other means of empirical research. As such, the “field” will be defined as the landscape through which this music was birthed and the environment that contributed to its evolution. It may therefore be challenging to circumscribe this field to a definitive spatial locality since these two musical styles are transcontinental in both their inception and proliferation. Zouglou was indeed born in the harsh conditions of Ivory Coast’s universities but “exported” to Europe, while Coupé-Décalé was spawned in posh Parisian nightclubs and “imported” back to Ivory Coast. These styles can consequently be said to have had both “local” and “foreign” impacts, however defined from the frame of reference that one decides to take. The site of this project will thus span the same global expanses as the music it aims to analyze and occur both in France and in Ivory Coast, more specifically in Paris and Abidjan. Within these cities, any institution that may lend itself to the promotion of a discursive, observational or participatory process between the investigator and the identified actors will serve as a space to undertake research. Examples of such institutions range from university campuses to nightclubs, and from formal governmental bodies to concert venues.

As noted earlier, Zouglou and Coupé-Décalé were born amid troubling circumstances in Ivory Coast. Even though it is daunting to readily identify the specific impacts of these musical styles on the socio-political situation of the country, one can irrefutably claim that these genres did have an impact. By using ethnography to collect data on these influences from a varied collection of actors ranging from artistes to scholars, an account of the methods with which the musical arts can be used as a form of defense against societal angst can be created. This research would fit into a larger body of work aimed to better understand the nexus between music and social transformations as seen from an offensive (music as a catalyst to press for social change) or defensive (music as a means to combat external forces attempting to reshape the status quo) standpoint.

References

Boka, A. (2013). Le sens d'un genre musical en Afrique. L'Harmattan.

Cagnolari, V. (2005, 04 18). RFI Musique - Archives. Retrieved 10 12, 2014, from RFI: http://www.rfimusique.com/musiquefr/articles/064/article_15448.asp

Emielu, A. (2011). Some theoretical perspectives. Popular Music, 371–388.

Kohlhagen, D. (2004). FRIME, ESCROQUERIE ET COSMOPOLITISME, Le succès du « coupé-décalé » en Afrique et ailleurs. Politique africaine, 92-100.

McGovern, M. (2011). Making War in Cote d'Ivoire.

Rosenthal, R., & Flacks, R. (2011). Playing for Change : Music and Musicians in the Service of Social Movements. Paradigm Publishers.

Schumann, A. (2012). A GENERATION OF ORPHANS: THE SOCIO-ECONOMIC CRISIS IN CÔTE D’IVOIRE AS SEEN THROUGH POPULAR MUSIC. The Journal of the International African Institute, 535-555.

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!

Confronting Ebola with music and dance?

Even though my project is subtitled "Confronting civil unrest through music and comedy in Ivory Coast", today civil unrest is far less relevant in Ivory Coast (and possibly in the West African sub-region) than the Ebola virus. Unless you've been cut from all civilization for the past few months, you are probably aware of the highly infectious (not highly contagious) disease. Mortality rates are extremely high, and the symptoms are not very pleasant either. As with most issues, the media has done its part to escalate the matter sufficiently to make everyone paranoid. Since the end of July, all the comments I've received from people I told about my project were "Isn't that where Ebola is?", "I don't think you should risk it - your life is too precious", "Not worth it man". Well just so you know, there are currently no documented cases of Ebola in Ivory Coast (knock on wood). Then again, Ivory Coast's proximity to Liberia, Guinea and Sierra Leone makes you wonder how long the country will be able to preserve its immune status. My  hope is that by the time I am ready to actually start fieldwork in Ivory Coast (mid March), the outbreak would have been better controlled. However, I'm getting sidetracked because this is not what this post is about.

In a previous post, I predicted that it wouldn't be long before Ivory Coast musicians came up with an Ebola dance. It looks like I was correct (thanks DJ Lewis)! Scanning through my facebook newsfeed today, I came across the following video. 

 DJ Lewis - Ebola

From a very basic analysis, I sense that the purpose of this video is twofold. First and foremost it serves as Public Service Announcement to warn people of the dangers of the disease and what preventative measures they could take. In a very synthesized voice you hear DJ Lewis yell "Aucun vaccin n'est disponible - Attention - 90% des malades meurent - Attention" (translated: No vaccine is available - Warning - 90% of affected people die - Warning). If this doesn't qualify as awareness raising, then I don't know what does. But we should note that this is also a party song. It is performed in the "Coupe Decale" style, a type of Ivorian music that advocates excess, luxury and an overall festive lifestyle. Even though a terrible thing such as Ebola is not necessarily compatible with partying, something in Ivorian culture (perhaps in human nature) allow the two to mingle so as to produce refreshing music. It is not that Ebola cannot or should not be sung, however to most people the expectation would be something similar to this: 

Here, Ismael Yoroba gives us a mellow performance that outlines the risk factors, and presents a couple of pointers on how not catch Ebola (#boring? #effective?).

Ebola is terrible and is currently wreaking havoc in West Africa. However, if dancing and singing engages folks in ways that can uplift  their spirits while also providing education, then these populations are certainly getting closer to recovery. As we wait for the powerful figures of the world (Obama, Bill Gates etc.) to assist us, Africa let's dance our sickness away like Mamadee here!

 Full article available here: http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/news-stories/story-front-line/boy-who-tricked-ebola 

Positivism vs Interpretivism – Engineering vs. Ethnography

Today was my second class in Ethnography Theory and Research Methods. Coming from an undergraduate engineering background, I have certainly struggled with the concepts presented to me over the past few weeks. While an obvious divergence already exists between this social science and the natural sciences, this dissimilarity is further intensified when contextually observed from my particular standpoint – that is: an undergraduate student thrown into a graduate level course. I suddenly found myself in virgin uncharted territory, and the feeling is actually somewhat refreshing.

For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been presented with a single pedagogical model. In this model, the instructor serves as the keeper of knowledge and his job has always been to pass this knowledge to students in the form of a lecture or tutorial. As I matured as a learner, I found that expectations increased in terms of the amount of preparatory work, self-study and other “practice” activities necessary in order to fully grasp the concepts communicated.  At McMaster, Professors often stress that 3 hours of self-study is required for every hour spent in class. Even if this held true for some of my classes (many core engineering courses), I was often able to get good grades by spending only a modest amount of time doing homework. However, one thing remained undeniably true, new concepts were almost always first introduced by the professor and students were then asked to reflect upon them. Thus, this approach has always afforded me an advantage because the lectures provided a good basis for starting my exploration of a particular topic. Nevertheless, this ethnography course has shown me that this model doesn’t necessarily hold true for graduate classes (or possibly just graduate classes in ethnography?). Instead of being keepers of knowledge as previously described, Professors in this model serve as moderators and guide students (who are required to do ridiculous amounts of self-preparation) in their understanding of the concepts being presented.
The structure of this course is therefore radically different from any post-secondary experience I have been faced with thus far. First, there is the issue of the size of the class and its gender distribution. In total there are 10 students (myself included), and of those 7 are female and (only) 3 are male.  This kind of pattern strongly contrasts the demographics that I’m used to in the engineering faculty. An observation that I immediately shared with the rest of the world as I stepped into my first calculus class.

Moreover, my uneasiness is further compounded by the humbling fact that I am the only “undergraduate” and “foreign” student in the room. The argument about being an undergraduate is in reality simply a technicality (I have completed all the requirements of my undergraduate degree, but convocation is not until November). However, my foreignness to the field of anthropology – and more generally to the social sciences – does put me at a palpable disadvantage relative to the rest of my peers. Even though their backgrounds span a great breadth of disciplines ranging from religious studies to sociology, they remain unified by the common theme of having a certain rooting in the arts and humanities. As such they carry an intellectual baggage that I can only dream of possessing, which also gives them a clear edge in terms of thinking methods and approaches to problem-solving.

Being a product of engineering school, I am obsessed with a desire to categorize, quantify and objectivize data. As much as possible, engineers (as most scientists) attempt to distance themselves from the topics they study in order to generate abstractions and solve problems.  As long as human bias is minimized, experiments become replicable and norms, theories and other laws can be deduced – this is what I understand to be positivism. However, this worldview was immediately challenged as I began learning about anthropology, ethnography and the different schools of thought that exist within these disciplines. I have come to learn that the study of people and their cultures does not lend itself very well to such a rigid method. Instead, complexities and nuances that exist within various societies must be accounted for and presented to the reader through the lens of the researcher – that is my understanding of interpretivism. Hence, bias becomes inevitable and at times even desirable. If such a statement unsettles many self-respecting engineers at first, it is important to also remember the limitations of our own science. Indeed, many disciplines of engineering make reference to terms like “assumptions”, “judgment” and “risk” to illustrate the importance of human input in the design process. However, where engineering attempts to minimize such human factors (or to effectively quantify them), ethnography encourages one to embrace them so far as their existence is acknowledged in the work.

I am not sure if will ever fully embrace this new way of thinking, but it has definitely opened my eyes. I am currently torn between two places and across two disciplines. While my foundation remains strongly rooted in engineering and technology, ethnography appears to have promising tools that will help me shape a new way of looking at the world. Oh and happy birthday to me!

You’re from West Africa? That’s funny, I always thought you were from Ghana…

This post’s title is quoted verbatim from an interaction with a coworker earlier this week. If you do not get the absurdity of this statement, great! You are part of the demographic that I am targeting. I use the word “target” cautiously because I do not aim to reprimand, ridicule or guilt anyone for their lack of knowledge of African geography, history or politics. It is, after all, human nature to be more interested in matters which are directly related or applicable to us. Hence, if you asked me to identify The Philippines on a world map, my answer would probably amuse or offend most people who are from that region. Human or physical geography were never my strong suit. Therefore I state it again, I am not trying to embarrass anyone here; I’m just trying to educate. Please read on.
Now, let’s ask: What exactly is funny (or offensive to some) in the above statement? Is it the fact that my coworker assumed that West Africa was a country in its own right? Did she think that Ghana was not a part of Africa? Did she perhaps presume that Africa was a big federal republic of which Ghana and West Africa were member states? It actually seems quite logical that West Africa would be a country if there is already one called South Africa – Right? Maybe she simply confused Ghana and Guyana? I will never know because I never attempted to correct her, and this makes me a part of the problem. Indeed, countless African immigrants have felt indignation when “Westerners” misappropriate, confuse or otherwise insult their origins. Again, I use the word “Westerner” in a general sense to mean people living in this imaginary “Western World” and not to specifically target a particular ethnicity (i.e white people). In fact, I’ve been approached by countless Caribbean people of African descent who were, despite their enthusiasm in hearing that I was from the “Motherland”, clueless about African geography, history and/or politics. Hence, if we as Africans make no attempt to educate the people we interact with, we cannot possibly expect to better the situation. This is what this post – and to a larger extent this project – is all about.

What/Where is Africa? What/Where is Ivory Coast?

Most people I have encountered remember their Grade 5 geography and can easily point the African continent on a map (if you can't, it’s the one that looks like it used to fit into South America  before God decided to shuffle the puzzle pieces.). Note the use of the word “continent”, because believe it or not African is huge and covers an area of approximately 30.2 million km2 (11.6 million square miles). Here is a picture that helps put things into perspective: http://flowingdata.com/2010/10/18/true-size-of-africa/. You could fit the USA, Europe, India, Japan and China in that area, making Africa the second largest continent in the world after Asia. Africa is big – in fact, Africa is huge – but Africa is not a country. It is a continent that currently hosts about 54 sovereign countries and is home to about 1.1 billion people (all facts taken from Wikipedia.)
If you were involved in any form of World Cup activity this summer, you probably remember some African teams doing some pretty memorable things on the field. The player who elbowed another player as his team was losing was from Cameroon. Ghana was the team that gave Germany some of its fiercest opposition during the tournament (Germany vs .Ghana: 2 – 2; Germany vs. Brazil: 7 – 1. Just sayin’). Ivory Coast is that team whose flag is extremely similar to Ireland’s (they also had a disappointing loss against Greece, but thinking about that just gets me upset). Algeria and Nigeria are the two teams that made it out of the group stages. So far we’ve covered 4 countries, we have about 50 more to go. Ok, you get the gist.
Ivory Coast is a country on the West Coast of Africa (no, West Africa is not a country). It is bordered on the South by the Atlantic Ocean; on the North by Burkina Faso and Mali; on the West by Liberia and Guinea (where the current Ebola epidemic is believed to emanated from – more on that later); and on the East by Ghana. Ivory Coast used to be a French colony from 1893 until it got its independence in 1960. Prior to this, several Kingdoms (Baoule, Senouffo, Kong etc.) prospered in this area (Sources: Grade 6 History classes and Wikipedia…mostly Wikipedia). After 1960, Ivory Coast had a single leader, Félix Houphouët-Boigny, who ruled the country until his death in 1993. Despite being a dictator by most standards, he was (and continues to be) highly respected in Ivory Coast due to Ivory Coast’s economic prosperity during his reign. In those days, Ivory Coast rose to be the world’s top exporter of cocoa and one of the top exporters of coffee. The strong Ivorian economy was reflected in the country’s grandiose infrastructure projects and overall development status, far ahead of most of its French speaking West African counterparts. As a young boy, my friends and I would often refer to Abidjan (the capital of Ivory Coast) as “Petit Paris” (Little Paris). The picture below can hopefully explain why.

 

Compare Adidjan, Ivory Coast (Above) to Cotonou, Benin where I'm from (below)

Unfortunately after Félix Houphouët-Boigny’s death, scrambles over his succession quickly arose. Political alliances and rivalries quickly formed and tensions grew. These tensions culminated in a Coup D’etat on Christmas Eve of 1999 when a group of disgruntled army members took over the state and established General Robert Guei (a retired officer) as their military leader.

 My family and I were living in Ivory Coast when this happened (1999- 2000) and an air of political instability lingered over the course of that year. I still have vivid memories of deserted streets, gunshots and my mom yelling at me for standing too close to the windows. Yet, I remember my year in Abidjan as one of the best in my life. We lived in a beautiful apartment in the Abidjan’s Plateau (downtown) district. Everything was so close that we barely needed a car (somewhat unthinkable in an African capital). I would walk about 10 minutes to school and was able to come back and have lunch with the family. There were often long dinner lectures where my dad would teach us a thing or two about his experience in the West, and why the English were so much better than the French. Weekends were mostly spent cruising the Ivorian countryside in my dad’s tiny Renault Clio; Grand Bassam was one of my favorite destinations. It was one of the last (few) years that my family truly spent together (i.e. all of us in one place at all times). It was also the year when I was due to write my CEPE (secondary school entrance examination – yes, the whole country took a standardized test at the end of elementary school). How could a country that had seemed so stable and perfect a few months earlier descend into such chaos? Perhaps I was unable to perceive the political tensions that were present at the time due to my young age?

On est où là? (Where are we now?)

Irrespective of all the instability, I was also indelibly marked by the striking humor Ivoirians managed to find in every situation. It is not to say that everything was a joke to them, but there was definitely a funnier side to every situation. This attitude is partially reflected in the music that emerged from Ivory Coast in the early 2000s. Zouglou lyrics made fun of serious social and political issues, while Coupe Decale produced a movement that seemed to approach the conflict with a certain lightheartedness (these two musical styles will be further discussed in a later post).

Today, I can see the same attitude depicted in some of the cartoons coming from Cote D’Ivoire regarding the Ebola hemorrhagic fever. While there are currently no cases of Ebola in Ivory Coast, its proximity to Guinea and Liberia has fuelled some paranoia amongst government officials and populations alike. Recent disagreements between the Ivoirian government and the Confederation of African Football over an African Cup qualification match between Cote D’Ivoire and Sierra Leone (also heavily affected by the epidemic) taking place in Abidjan resulted in the hilarious image below.

The caption reads: “Cote D’Ivoire vs Sierra Leone – Anti-Ebola Soccer Kit”. I predict that the “Ebola” dance will be the next big thing coming out of the minds of Ivorian DJs and artists. Believe it or not, there already exists a “Bird Flu” dance…

Between fear and excitement: Labour day is here...school is here.

In case the advertisements on the radio and the flyers didn't make the point clear enough, here is my little reminder: IT IS BACK TO SCHOOL FOLKS! The labour day holiday always leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth. On the one hand it is an excellent opportunity to get together with friends and enjoy some of the few remaining long and hot summer days (bonfire, cards and good company in my case); on the other hand it also prompts us of the start of another school year. This means nine full months of torture at the hands of merciless professors paid handsomely by an evil institution to torment students with homework, tests, reports and exams... I might be exaggerating a little bit (but only a little bit). 

Fun times at the shores of Lake Ontario with good people. 

Fortunately, this year Labour Day takes on a whole new meaning for me. It signals the official start of my Renaissance adventure. Classes with Prof. Gilbert start on September 9th and I have already started stocking up on books and other reading materials. Last Friday, I even obtained my first city library card in over 6 years! In hindsight, I think my excitement was slightly disproportionate to the action. 

"So you're telling me that this card allows me to borrow up to 50 materials at any one time  for free?", I asked in complete disbelief. 

"Yes, that's correct. It actually used to be 100 but I guess they got a little stingy," replied the lady manning the front desk. 

Our society might have made me too accustomed to paying for everything. It is so refreshing to hear that certain services are still accessible and free of charge. Perhaps not entirely free since they're really subsidized by our collective taxes. In any case, the Toronto Library System is a goldmine that I certainly undervalued until very recently. This place basically has every single book in the world. 

I was able to easily find 3 books identified on my reading list that I proceeded to check out. They are namely: Making War in Cote d'Ivoire by Mike McGovern ($31.50 on Amazon), Playing for Change: Music and Musicians in the Service of Social Movements by Rob Rosenthal and Richard Flacks ($154.85 on Amazon) and Music and Conflict by John Morgan O'Connell and Salwa El-Shawan Castelo-Branco ($55.30 on Amazon). Look at all that money saved - KA-CHING! I have these books for the next 3 weeks and unless my maths is very poor, this means that I will have to average about one book per week. Yah Fohi (Meaning "No problem" in Ivorian slang)! Challenge accepted!

It is time to break the radio silence!

I realize that my last blog post was probably a couple of months ago (possibly more?) and I apologize for that. One would think that with so much time elapsed between posts, I would have a lot more events to discuss by now. That is unfortunately not the case.

In all fairness, it might be slightly misleading to claim that the past few months have been boring and uneventful. I can now proudly boast that I now have a Civil Engineering Technology degree from McMaster University (well convocation is not until November...). I've also served as a tour guide/driver to my mom and some family friends for the past two weeks. It has been both fun and stressful (see pictures below).

Nevertheless, I anticipate my experience going forward to be substantially different from anything I've had to deal with yet. Also, things look like they're finally taking shape for my project! I have met several times with Prof. Gilbert (my faculty advisor) and Prof. Ibhawoh (an extremely kind professor who is actually from Nigeria!) to establish a more or less detailed work plan for the coming months. It appears that I will:

1) Work to develop a critical bibliography to familiarize myself with music used in the context of social movements. (So. Much. Reading.)

2) Take an ethnographical research methods course for about 10 weeks to gain practical skills associated with carrying out field research. The syllabus looks so relevant to my project!

3) Clear the ethics approval process with the university so that they're sure that I know what I'm doing (it would be good if I knew what I was doing...) The application is also about 20 pages long. No big deal.

4) Try to set up as many interviews as I can with relevant artists, scholars and journalists for the next phase of my project.

This little list basically sums up my plans for the coming months (September to December). It doesn't look like it will be walk in the park, but it definitely doesn't seem like it's going to be impossible. Let's go Renaissance!

Enjoy some beautiful landscapes from Ontario!!!

Port Dalhousie

Upper Canada Village

The Parliament

More Parliament!

Rose Garden at the Royal Botanical Gardens