laisse les bon temps roll

What I tend to forget is that things here happen at a pace all their own, and no amount of huffing and puffing’s gonna push forward that old African clock.

Really enjoying the peace and quiet of Thiès. At night I fall asleep to an orchestra of mosquitoes and grasshoppers buzzing and clicking and then wake up to roosters crowing and other birds a-chatting. And somewhere in between a call to prayer.

Really enjoying this big old house I’m living in with all the other volunteers. It’s very open and sunny and kind of an oasis of its own, all cloaked in heavy green flora. So it follows, I can’t imagine what it will look like in the dry season. It hasn’t rained much but when it does, it’s that purposeful, no-games, all-business type of rain I love and respect (as compared to the all day, all gray ninny-picking rains of New England) barreling through with unreserved determination to turn the city of Thiès into a raging and unnavigable Venice! In under 10 minutes.

So the house is really grand. There are hundreds of books here, left behind by people who’ve passed through here, on every topic, in many languages. And old pictures of the executive director with her family, her friends, politicians, and villagers. In one from a long time ago, she’s got her hair all piled up like Jane Fonda and she is crouched next to an almost mass-less veiled woman, against a chipped blue wall, with yards of clean white sand in front of them. And there’s this strange, private exchange between them. Nothing like a good old relic to uncover, you know.

On the other hand, I can see how this house can get a little isolating, sharing it with so many other Americans. I’ve had a really great time getting to know everyone - each so different but I guess driven here by some similar will - but I do wish I were surrounded by less English. (If that’s my complaint, which it is, I suppose I’m lucky, which I am.) What I do like is this tight little community of women we've got here. (I'm reading The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou for crying out loud.) I share a room with an Irish girl named Màire, we fell asleep giggling about everything under the sun including mildly racy text messages from Senegalese men, knowing truly there's something that gets lost in translation ....

I began a project designing brochures for the NGO, on its current activities within each region of Senegal, so hopefully I’ll soon get to visit some of the regional offices to get a sense of how they’re operating, what they’re getting done, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

immigration test

Federal immigration authorities redesigned the 100-question test that's a part of the process of becoming a naturalized American citizen. Granted it's been a few years since I've gotten reacquainted with our dear old Constitution, but I think my chances of naturalizing today would be slim! Test yourself:

http://graphics8.nytimes.com/packages/pdf/national/Ten_Questions.pdf

time to start freaking out

The Center for Global Development has issued an extensive body of research on the effects of global warming on agricultural productivity. Long-term effects are scary. Developing countries, especially those around the equator where temperatures have already reached or surpassed the threshold for crop tolerance, face sad consequences. India's productivity may drop 30-40% by 2080, Sudan 56%, Senegal 52%. Southern areas of China and the US may see a reduction in yields of about 25-35%. (the full report can be found at: http://www.cgdev.org/content/publications/detail/14425).

We get a little programmed to disregard the troubling but pretty mundane forecasts like "increasing draught and heat waves," (it's like most statistics, they just fail to carry much of a punch). But late summer at sea level between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, without AC ... it's a ugly prospect. (That's most of Central and South America, Africa, India, and Southeast Asia, hot tamales!)

Photo Griots

"In January 2005, the Visual Griots inaugural workshop engaged 22 dynamic sixth graders from Mali in an exploration of the powerful “voice” of photography. An expert team of Malian and U.S. photographers guided the students through camera basics to use their new-found skill to honor the people and traditions of their village. Students took ownership of the project and created a body of work that demystifies the African village and brings forth the important elements of their lives."

The following link is a slideshow of work by Malian youth participating in the Academy for Educational Development program; wow!! really beautiful vision and quality:
http://www.aed.org/visualgriots/exhibit/index.htm

Au Senegal! How little credit we give to memory of the senses. Our sense of smell is, supposedly, that most strongly connected to memory - how true this is. I had forgotten the faint smells escaping the women’s kitchens and the incense that wafts from their bedrooms, the dusty, wooly goats, the way the breeze off the ocean is clogged with diesel fumes, and after the rains, the wet earth smell mixes with whatever else mingles in the sandy roads. It would be a lie to say I didn’t panic, somewhere between Madrid and Dakar, surrounded by so many incomprehensible tongues, and it was the first time I asked myself, what am I doing??? (I saw the magnificent Sahara from the sky for the first time! It looks not like sand, but like very rocky terrain, where giant boulder-like formations cast strange dark shadows, breaking up an otherwise desolate and monochromatic landscape. This is what I caught from quick glances over a leathery old man in the window seat.) Whatever nervousness I had was calmed on the ground. It was good to be back, at least I can say, it smelled the same. Our taxi moved down the long airport road at about a mile an hour, penetrating hundreds of men, women, and children dressed in long white garments, going to or coming from their masjid (we were in a largely Lyon area; Lyon is a sect of Sufism). Kind of surreal, then again, a lot of things have been seeming like that ....

It’s weird when you spend some time, six weeks, in a place, and you get into a little groove, and coming back, you think you’ll fall right back into place, but you don’t. It’s a funny feeling being somewhere so familiar and foreign at the same time. That’s why it was great to see my host family. We were all so happy! Lots of shrieking and laughing over photos. Well truth be told, my brothers didn’t really pay me much attention, nothing new there. It was terribly sad leaving them last summer because of course I didn’t know when I would see them again. I arrived during Ramadan which is a really interesting time to be here, observing everything. Everyone seems a little tired, it’s so straining on the mind and the body (and unfortunately many people who fast are already poorly nourished), but it is also very rewarding spiritually. Fasting would be hard to do on your own; I think it would not feel as special if you didn’t have a family to break fast with every night. In Senegal, there is a funny balance within the society where people are very, very pious Muslims, but religion is at the same time relaxed. Or else, religion is not so disconnected from life-as-usual as it is in America ...... well but that’s a whole other story ...

The people at work are wonderful, and I’ve had a good time getting to know some other volunteers. Everyone has an endless amount of stories to share, also opinions, ideas, friends, food... Right now I am living and working in Yoff, a little on the outskirts of Dakar. This weekend I should be moving to Thies, where the main Tostan office is located. I’m ready to jump into work, but things in Senegal operate at a different pace; as they say waiting is like the national pastime. Nonetheless I will be sad to leave this dear, wacky city with its rooftop reggae, its funny mishmash of keur coiffures, sidewalk marabouts, junky animated car rapides .....

In the meantime I’ve been trying to get Wolof - something I regretfully didn’t do so much of last year. I think the idea of comprehending something so obscure in the span of six weeks seemed a next to impossible, but now all I want to do is hear it and decipher it. Ndank ndank ... slowly but surely.

some days you can't help but feel very blessed

Off for Senegal, land of sunshine, sabars, yassa poulet, teranga-aplenty (world-class hospitality). Miami via Madrid and a hop, skip, and jump down to Dakar. I fell asleep last night reading The Missing Piece by Shel Silverstein, realizing truth and beauty in as little words as possible, thinking about the nature of dreams and journeys and fulfillment. And feeling very grateful for all the friends and family and animals I've met along the way who have shown me humor and wisdom.
I'll write more, an ocean and a couple days from now......

Is African Art History?

(excerpt from essay by Sylvester Okwunodu Ogbechie and John Peffer, co-editors of Critical Interventions)
The question of value is topical because the generic undervaluing of African arts, cultures, and knowledge systems contributes directly to the minimal support given to its discourses by institutional funders and publishers. Critical Interventions engages the current crisis in academic publishing by offering a novel platform for advanced writing on African art. Publishing on African art is increasingly characterized by the production of patron-oriented picture books and generic anthologies, while fewer research-oriented or critically minded essays of substantial length have appeared in academic journals. Major academic presses now decline to publish intensive studies of African art unless printing costs are independently subsidized or they appeal to a popular audience such as the market for books related to African Diaspora issues. The deserving attention focused on Diaspora contexts is commendable, but unfortunately it seems to provide an additional basis for the marginalization of continental Africa. Funding for doctoral and post-doctoral work in African art has also diminished and, increasingly, only a small number of individuals working on “safe” topics, or well-established scholars are granted the opportunity to continue substantive fieldwork or to see their research into print. This climate of reduced publishing and funding opportunities curtails in-depth original and independent scholarship on African art from all eras. The situation truncates the aspirations of those anticipating a career in the field, and it jeopardizes the tenure prospects of younger scholars. The result is paradoxical: at the exact moment that the field is poised to become more fully art historical it is also threatened with extinction.

Critical Interventions promises to be "the principal site of discursive engagement for the field
of African art history in this century." You have to formally subscribe to read most articles but the site's worth a look, http://www.aachron.com/editions/critical_interventions/ci_index.html

halleluja

Quilts of Gee's Bend in Fort Lauderdale ... and they're even more fabulous all together, in real life (the postage stamp doesn't quite do them justice)

African films, alhamdulilay!! part deux

"This Is Nollywood tells the story of the Nigerian film industry—a revolution enabling Africans with few resources to tell African stories to African audiences. Despite all odds, Nigerian directors produce between 500 and 1,000 movies a year. The disks sell wildly all over the continent—Nollywood actors have become stars from Ghana to Zambia."

With a digital camera, two lights, and $20,000, Bond Emeruwa set out to document the Nigerian film industry in just 9 days. Digitalization of the industry has made it infinitely more accessible to aspiring African directors. African storytelling in new clothes.

trailer @ http://www.thisisnollywood.com/trailer.htm

This is Nollywood premieres in you guessed it Boston! Presented by the Center for Digital Imaging Arts at Boston University, Thursday, Sept. 13 at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge. All proceeds benefit Nollywood Workshops, an initiative dedicated to providing training for filmmakers in Nigeria. http://www.brattlefilm.org/brattlefilm/index.html

Annual Rates of Global Migration

3% of the world's people were living outside their country of birth in 2005. What's really remarkable is the part, "Money Sent Home as a Share of GDP"

http://www.nytimes.com/ref/world/20070622_CAPEVERDE_GRAPHIC.html