bagging garbage, sacking presidents

The scene: the littered, sloppy, mud-caked streets of Rosso.
The event: a training session on trash management in Mauritania and West Africa at large.
The players: myself as Environmental Education Coordinator, my site mate slash partner in crime K as the Health Education Coordinator, our Assistants Keita and Dia, trainees (not really busy-tailed or bright-eyed anymore, but still on this side of optimistic), and the man in charge of Rosso’s municipal trash system (we’ll call him Mohammed).

We had spent the better part of two hours touring the city of Rosso, population: ~49,000, garbage-handling capacity: about half that. Trainees saw first hand what happens to garbage (it is thrown in more or less consolidated piles on the road), how municipal workers are protected (no gloves, no masks), and how medical waste is disposed of (in public, no incineration or biohazard containers necessary).

As bleak as this situation sounds, Mohammed assures us that it was “much improved” from just one year ago. Previously, trash management meant burning piles of sewage lining literally every street. As we squint our eyes against the sun and bake in the makeshift landfill, he lauds the recently elected Mayor who singlehandedly revamped the trash collection system, initiated the construction of flood-prevention canals, and other such municipal miracles. “By the grace of God,” he expounds in his most elegant French, “and the glimmer of hope and democracy, our Mayor has improved Rosso inestimably.”

At the very moment this praise escapes his lips, my phone rings. I duck between trainees and answer quickly, quietly, “allo?”

“So, you hear about the coup?” M asked.
“The what??”
“The coup d’état. Can you confirm?”

I am flabbergasted. A trainee, posted in the middle of absolutely nowhere, with no access to television, internet, much less electricity, is telling me the Mauritanian government is dissolving. “I’ll call the Nouakchott office and get back to you.”

Sure enough, as covered by BBC and AP Reuters, Mauritania's President and Prime Minister were indeed arrested, her government 100% overthrown.

After the session, trainees roamed the center, abuzz with rumor and uncertainty.
“Will we be evacuated?”
“Can we travel to the capital?”
“How exactly do you say coup d’état in English…?”

I immediately wrote home to proclaim my safety and even my disinterest in this event. My initial reaction was one of boredom: what will change when one classically empowered guy replaces another? We are not shifting ideology. There is no subversive message to be broadcast, no massive reform, no violence, no uproar. It’s lip service to revolution, a name change on a door. Barely tantamount to an interruption in tea service.

But upon further reflection (and discussion today with K), I realize I was wrong. The President, however typical his ethnicity, background, and socio-economic status, had been chosen democratically in a transparent election. Mauritania’s voter turn out was estimated between 65 and 70% (comparable to that of the US in 2004 and better by almost half in 2000). It was more than a baby step toward democracy. It really was a glimmer of hope.

Despite my early - more sarcastic - predictions, Mauritania has remained front-ish page news, having been internationally condemned by the US, United Nations, African Union, and various other protesters. What does this mean? In a nutshell, Mauritania is on the “bad guy” list. The international community is wary and, in the effort to denounce the coup, will likely pull various incarnations of support, e.g. tourism and international aid. This has real consequences on the Mauritanian people, immediately and continually.

While the timing of M’s phone call was comedic gold, I realize now how tragic it was that his inquiry should interrupt Mohammed’s sincere pride for Mauritania’s democratic progress. Consider that glimmer, at least temporarily, extinguished.