How are things in
Burkina Faso?
When the Korean War broke out in 1950 – I was quite young at the time – I’d never heard of a place called Korea. There were a lot of places I’d never heard of at that tender age, of course, but you accumulate knowledge as you grow older, and at least learn the names of various outposts as they show up in the news.
There even comes a day when your formal education is
complete that you kind of figure you know where everything worth knowing about
is on the globe. Well, not every little place, but at least countries around
the world. Some might not be very familiar, but at least you know what
continent some place in the news is on. If you’ve got a dental appointment in
Samarra, you know right where to go, but I don’t recommend it.
So recently when there was news of unrest in a place called
Burkina Faso, I was surprised I’d never even heard of it. Nor had I heard of
Burkina Faso’s capital city, Ouagadougou. (Pity the poor broadcast journalist
trying to pronounce that one.)
Where have I been, you ask?
I sometimes wonder myself. Here I thought I knew where most
places were and this entire country in West Africa, with perhaps the most
difficult-to-spell capital city on the planet, totally escapes me.
It set me thinking for a change, and I realize that many of
the places I thought I knew about went and changed their names when I wasn’t
paying attention. A check with Google reveals that Burkina Faso used to be
called Upper Volta. Well, why didn’t they say so! I remember Upper Volta quite
well. Isn’t that where we get our electricity from? Or is that Lower Volta?
This has also happened elsewhere. When I studied geography
back in the Paleozoic Era, there was an island off the southern tip of India
called Ceylon. So what happens? Suddenly it’s called Sri Lanka. When I first
heard it called that I thought Sri Lanka was a tall skinny fashion model,
maybe married to David Bowie, maybe not.
Then there was Burma. I knew Burma. It was on the road to
Mandalay, where the flyin’ fishes play, and the sun comes up like thunder out
of China ‘cross the bay. Suddenly, and without warning, no more Burma (although
it’s still a pretty good shaving cream). They changed it to Myanmar. How
confusing is that?
Moving over to India, what in the world happened to Bombay? I’ll tell you what happened to Bombay. They now call it Mumbai. Why? I don’t know. To confuse those of us who had been complacent in thinking we knew where most things are, or were?
Moving over to India, what in the world happened to Bombay? I’ll tell you what happened to Bombay. They now call it Mumbai. Why? I don’t know. To confuse those of us who had been complacent in thinking we knew where most things are, or were?
And don’t get me started on Zimbabwe. Poor Cecil Rhodes, who
had an entire country named after him, only to have Rhodesia become
Zimbabwe.
This sort of thing has been bothering me for a long time and
I’m happy to get it off my chest. Such things rarely happen in the United
States of America. A place gets a name and sticks with it. Duluth. Chicago.
Miami. And when American cities change their names, it makes sense.
Take a town in New Mexico formerly known as Hot Springs. In
1950 it changed its name to Truth or Consequences, after a radio quiz show of
the day. The reason? Too many honeymooners with the old name.