What do you do? Why do you do it? Yet another aspect of culture and change

I have avoided up to this point speaking about some of the more troubling aspects of my time here. But because I have been asked by a number of people, I will speak on yet another cultural subject to the best of my ability.

In response to several inquiries, yes, my village performs female circumcision. When my language improved, about 8 or 9 months into my service, I began to ask: "I've seen the ceremonies for male circumcision--what about the ceremonies for female circumcision?" And they responded honestly, "Ah, yes! We do that too! Boys around age 9 or 10, so they will become big and strong, and girls around age 4 or 5, so that they won't 'wander' from man to man." Several times after this exchange, a Malian will often ask me the same thing: "Are boys and girls circumsized in America?" I tell them that many boys are, but not all boys. And that no, women are not circumsized.

Practiced in nearly all of sub-Saharan Africa (the very south and south-west countries are excluded), female circumcision has recently gained widespread press coverage by health organizations, feminist organizations, and human rights groups. In Mali, some 90% of women are circumcised. Techniques vary from scratching the clitoris with a razor blade or blade of glass, removal of the clitoris and labia minora, to a full removal female external genitalia, including the labia majora. The least intrusive form, scarring or removing the clitoris, is the type practiced in my village and also the most common form of excision. Elderly women who are from the blacksmith caste perform the ritual.

Most villagers see nothing wrong with the ritual--after all, males are circumsized, why shouldn't females be circumsized? My villagers tell me it gives strength to men, chastity to women. I've read more technically advanced anthropological reports that claim circumcision as gender differentiation; to the Bambara ethnic group, all people are born hermaphrodites. So male circumcision is the removal of the 'female' genitalia, while female circumcision is the removal of the 'male' genitalia.

After all, Americans have their own ways of gender differentiation--women typically have long hair, men short hair. Women wear skirts and dresses, and tend to pierce their ears.  Men wear tuxedos and suits, and generally do not pierce their ears. This is what we do, these are the reasons we do it, so why is there a problem with some minor African rite of passage?

Human rights groups often cite the brutality of the practice--several women will usually hold the girl down while a third performs the ritual with an unsterilized razor blade. Sure, it is brutal, but male circucision ain't much better--a male blacksmith using a sharp edged rock while two other men hold his legs down. There are other such 'brutalities' here too--giving birth without anaesthesia, the pulling of an infected tooth, burns that women often suffer from cooking every day over a fire. These 'brutalities' are simply realities in a place where technology is far away. Is female circumcision brutal? Yes, in your eyes and mine, but it's just 'one more thing you do' here.

Several months ago, I opened up the topic to a friend of mine, whom I sit and chat with every night. I talk to him about his daughters, how I think he should try to keep all of his kids in school, not just his sons. Uneducated himself, he immediately agrees, responding, "all my kids will go to school. They will read! They will write!" His second wife recently gave birth to a daughter, and I asked him, gently, "will you circumsize her? Many people in Bamako are chosing not to circumsize their daughters." I felt I was in safe waters, but he then became baffled and defensive: "Of course I will circumsize her! What kind of father do you think I am? One that will all my daughter to become some prostitute?" I let the matter drop.

Typically, even when a Malian is in agreement, having the practice talked about by white people smacks of cultural supremacy--this is our culture, who are you to tell us how to live? The reaction would be similar, if not identical, to having an African or European ask an American to just stop driving cars everywhere and take public transit or walk--after all, what with global warming (which I do think is real) and dwindling oil supplies, why haven't we stopped driving our cars? Besides convenience, I think the automobile, the American method of personally getting yourself from point A to B, is something deeply embedded in our own culture.  In this case, we, too, get pretty defensive about our vices.

I have discussed circumcision with the doctor and vaccinator of my health center, and the director of our school, and they all will privately admit to the problems of female circumcision and the need for it to stop. As volunteers, we have also met with Malian health professionals in Bamako who think the practice is barbaric and should be stopped. Yet it was recommended that we not talk about female circumcision, of putting a white face on a cause that should be strictly African. While I have said little about the issue in my own village, other than discovering the practice, many African-American health volunteers, in their unique position, have started a dialogue with villagers about why they perform the ritual, while in contrast, African-Americans (and even some African countries!) do not.

Like development, genuine change must come from the people themselves. Case in point: Burkina Faso passed a law in 1996 outlawing female circumcision, driving the practice underground rather than ending it. While the current situation is frustrating, the number of young Malian professionals I see opposed to the practice makes me hopeful that there can, and will, be a change in the culture.