I love feeling strong and awesome and flexible and badass and full of energy. We did yoga again this morning and I do enjoy leading everyone with the poses and all. I’m basically parroting Will word for word, but that’s okay- he is a very good person to nick from.
The Susu teachers showed up tonight with their ballafons and their djembes and their FIRE EATER. He blew a big billowy ball of fire and I screamed because oh my god. He did a bunch of jumping around like a crocodile on his belly. I am deliriously tired so when the opening night show was over I tried to do it too. I could walk- one hand and one food at a time- but not jump. I’m going to keep trying and hopefully be able to by the time we get back to London (note: I can’t do this.) That would be so superfly. Jo said “you’re so strong!” which is A: flattering B: not strictly true- there is a trick to it (keeping your elbows close to your body) and C: encouraging. I feel like a goddess.
We learned to tie-dye today with women from Berefet. I took pictures of the whole thing/process. I did a leaf pattern with green and purple (mauve as they kept saying) I’m hoping that the colors will lighten considerably when dry. We can hope (note: they didn’t…) Fun process though. The language barrier was difficult and I was convinced at the beginning that we wouldn’t be allowed to do the tying ourselves and was being preemptively disappointed which was silly because man, I ended up doing a lot of sewing. Maybe next time not quite so many little designs. I tied up Kate’s calabash bag as well and think that turned out quite nicely.
This morning we hopped on a boat to James Island which is a World Heritage site for its importance at the beginning and end of the slave trade. It was sort of like going to the concentration camp in Germany with Laine. I kept walking around quietly and contemplatively while trying hard to *feel* something. The thing is, it was a lovely day and the ruins were a bit like climbing around my own private castle. The island was deserted except for us. I sat on a beautiful ledge and sang ‘edelweiss’ to myself- clearly mixing up the Nazis and the European slave trade. Oops.
Showing posts with label journal entry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label journal entry. Show all posts
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Wendesday 23-4-08 Berefet Wollof lessons
It was infernally hot again today- so dancing was a bit much this morning. This afternoon dissolved into unmemorable conversations and desperately trying to cool off. Evening drumming lessons however went on for forever so that we didn’t really have a break before dinner the way we usually do because Wollof drumming is so very much fun.
Oh! I wish I didn’t have to decide what to buy before having tried all of the various instruments. I would really like to try a djembe and learn how they are played first before deciding whether I want a wollof drum or a djembe.
Oh! I wish I didn’t have to decide what to buy before having tried all of the various instruments. I would really like to try a djembe and learn how they are played first before deciding whether I want a wollof drum or a djembe.
Tuesday 22-4-08 Berefet Wollof lessons
The wollof drummers arrived last night and performed for us, it was phenomenal. Good job I had my ear plugs though because the drums are ridiculously loud. The dancers’ butts jiggle around all impressively. The moon was still very nearly full and I could still see the rabbit that Ous asked if I could see a few days ago. He sees a man’s profile. I swear the moon is closer here.
We learned how to dance this morning. Lots of swiveling hips around and bouncing. It was tough work, but fun. After class I went up to the drums and had a bit of a private lesson with Viye which was great. I love thwaping the stick on to the head of the drum.
After lunch I sat with Tara and Nick for a while, but then it got far too hot so I sat with the blondies and then Kate for a while. It seems like everyone is sort of squirming around in the group feeling uncomfortable for any variety of reasons. It also seems like it is all coming to a head of sorts now which is probably good. We’re not all talking about issues together, but clearly there are small conversations going on all over the place which can only be a good thing.
Ha! They couldn’t get rid of us after drumming class- we just kept going and going and going. Lets play it again! I recorded the whole thing, which I think will be helpful in small little sections but not in its entirety which is going to be a pain to pick through. The wollof boys were very patient teachers and paid us each quite a bit of attention. By the end of the lesson we were playing a whole song and walking in time around the drums as we played them. At the end of the lesson they ended up taking the sticks out of our hands to make us stop playing.
I spent more time than is really sensible playing with a calculator at the bar and calculating the drinks tallies for our group for the last six days in Berefet. Weird that we’ve been here for nearly a week.
As we were heading to bed Caroline found what she thought was a mouse under her bed. I sat there with a flashlight while she went to get Habib and had just figured out that it was a frog- which Caroline has a deathly phobia of- when Habib called out “It’s not a mouse, it’s a frog!” at which point Caroline screamed, ran out of the hut and began sobbing on my porch one hut over. Good work Habib.
We learned how to dance this morning. Lots of swiveling hips around and bouncing. It was tough work, but fun. After class I went up to the drums and had a bit of a private lesson with Viye which was great. I love thwaping the stick on to the head of the drum.
After lunch I sat with Tara and Nick for a while, but then it got far too hot so I sat with the blondies and then Kate for a while. It seems like everyone is sort of squirming around in the group feeling uncomfortable for any variety of reasons. It also seems like it is all coming to a head of sorts now which is probably good. We’re not all talking about issues together, but clearly there are small conversations going on all over the place which can only be a good thing.
Ha! They couldn’t get rid of us after drumming class- we just kept going and going and going. Lets play it again! I recorded the whole thing, which I think will be helpful in small little sections but not in its entirety which is going to be a pain to pick through. The wollof boys were very patient teachers and paid us each quite a bit of attention. By the end of the lesson we were playing a whole song and walking in time around the drums as we played them. At the end of the lesson they ended up taking the sticks out of our hands to make us stop playing.
I spent more time than is really sensible playing with a calculator at the bar and calculating the drinks tallies for our group for the last six days in Berefet. Weird that we’ve been here for nearly a week.
As we were heading to bed Caroline found what she thought was a mouse under her bed. I sat there with a flashlight while she went to get Habib and had just figured out that it was a frog- which Caroline has a deathly phobia of- when Habib called out “It’s not a mouse, it’s a frog!” at which point Caroline screamed, ran out of the hut and began sobbing on my porch one hut over. Good work Habib.
Monday 21-4-08 Berefet
It is our day off before the Wollof people arrive this evening. I have to admit- I am kind of done. I would like to be back in more familiar surroundings, be able to make my own decisions about what to do with my time instead of this constant group think.
We asked for fresh fruit for “fruit salad time” today. This is a great idea in theory, but in reality this meant that we had yellow grapefruit and fresh papaya which sounds all nice until you realize that fresh papaya is VILE. I liked the grapefruit though.
We went on a bush walk today to find some monkeys. We saw a couple but I was unable to take a picture. Some of the foliage was gorgeous and I got a lot of pictures of cows. We ended up in a clearing of palm trees where a man was climbing with a sling to hack palm fruit down. We tried some and it wasn’t terribly tasty- just sort of oily. We walked back via the farm/vegetable garden and the new fancy school that ECCO helped to build. We stopped by some classrooms and said hello while the classes sang out their lessons. One class was learning months and days of the week. The student who was leading it kept leaving out October which I thought was pretty hilarious. At the garden we saw cashew trees! Each nut has its own red/orange fruit that it hangs from. It was a nice walk.
Somehow yesterday I became the yoga instructor du jour. I think it was because Maria and I did quite a hardcore practice in the morning and then she kept raving about it which I really felt quite honored by. In the afternoon I did a short practice with Emma and Jo with lots of explanation because they had each only done yoga once and had found it easy and kind of worthless. Having been trained (as it were) by Will from Charm City yoga in Baltimore, mine was harder. It was nice to have to remember what it was like when I first began doing yoga and how to explain how to do certain postures. Between the calming effect of doing yoga twice in one day and having good conversations with the blondies I am feeling so much more included and like myself.
We asked for fresh fruit for “fruit salad time” today. This is a great idea in theory, but in reality this meant that we had yellow grapefruit and fresh papaya which sounds all nice until you realize that fresh papaya is VILE. I liked the grapefruit though.
We went on a bush walk today to find some monkeys. We saw a couple but I was unable to take a picture. Some of the foliage was gorgeous and I got a lot of pictures of cows. We ended up in a clearing of palm trees where a man was climbing with a sling to hack palm fruit down. We tried some and it wasn’t terribly tasty- just sort of oily. We walked back via the farm/vegetable garden and the new fancy school that ECCO helped to build. We stopped by some classrooms and said hello while the classes sang out their lessons. One class was learning months and days of the week. The student who was leading it kept leaving out October which I thought was pretty hilarious. At the garden we saw cashew trees! Each nut has its own red/orange fruit that it hangs from. It was a nice walk.
Somehow yesterday I became the yoga instructor du jour. I think it was because Maria and I did quite a hardcore practice in the morning and then she kept raving about it which I really felt quite honored by. In the afternoon I did a short practice with Emma and Jo with lots of explanation because they had each only done yoga once and had found it easy and kind of worthless. Having been trained (as it were) by Will from Charm City yoga in Baltimore, mine was harder. It was nice to have to remember what it was like when I first began doing yoga and how to explain how to do certain postures. Between the calming effect of doing yoga twice in one day and having good conversations with the blondies I am feeling so much more included and like myself.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Berefet- Fula
Friday 18-4-08
Last night our Fula teachers serenaded us. I wish I had had my camera/recorder/whatever. They were amazing- jumping around all over the place and doing headstands. I’m not sure of any of their names but the tall, thin, clothes hanger type man who plays the fiddle sort of instrument amuses me. (His name is Abdulie, he plays the riti, and he continued to amuse me for the rest of the week) He is very quiet but with a non-verbal wry sort of humor- sneaking up on the manic calabash drummer and stoically pretending to kick the flautist in the shin. Um, I’m not describing him well- but trust me, he is charming.
This morning we learned a couple of songs. I couldn’t tell you what the names are. The rhythm and pitch of things seem much more fluid than western or even mandinka music. I think Momodou was a better teacher but these guys don’t speak English which makes it harder. They are definitely entertaining.
The afternoon instrumental lessons were intense. Playing starught for 45 minutes. With the Riti whenever I would try to stop to rest, Abdulie- the teaceher who is so tall and thin and looks like a puppet would come by and show me what we were playing again as though I had forgotten and that was why I wasn’t playing.
In the evening Ous (the main Gambian ECCO guy) sat us down to talk about how the first week had gone and to see if we had any criticisms of requests. That turned into a Gambian history lesson that opened the floodgates on questions that we had and the converstation swam informatively on as we all moved to the campfire and continued chatting. I ended up talking to Joanna quite a bit (the only female Gambian ECCO employee) – about Gambia, about being Catholic in a muslim country, about her family, cloth, and her living situation. She is very nice.
Berefet is miles different from Njawara. It is like a big fancy resort in comparison. We have huts with two to a hut and bathrooms! We each have our own bathroom with real toilets and a sink. The grounds are much larger with pretty little paths paved in clam shells, and all lined with flower beds. It is clean and bright and a bit more impersonal though that may be because we’ve only just arrived.
Last night our Fula teachers serenaded us. I wish I had had my camera/recorder/whatever. They were amazing- jumping around all over the place and doing headstands. I’m not sure of any of their names but the tall, thin, clothes hanger type man who plays the fiddle sort of instrument amuses me. (His name is Abdulie, he plays the riti, and he continued to amuse me for the rest of the week) He is very quiet but with a non-verbal wry sort of humor- sneaking up on the manic calabash drummer and stoically pretending to kick the flautist in the shin. Um, I’m not describing him well- but trust me, he is charming.
This morning we learned a couple of songs. I couldn’t tell you what the names are. The rhythm and pitch of things seem much more fluid than western or even mandinka music. I think Momodou was a better teacher but these guys don’t speak English which makes it harder. They are definitely entertaining.
The afternoon instrumental lessons were intense. Playing starught for 45 minutes. With the Riti whenever I would try to stop to rest, Abdulie- the teaceher who is so tall and thin and looks like a puppet would come by and show me what we were playing again as though I had forgotten and that was why I wasn’t playing.
In the evening Ous (the main Gambian ECCO guy) sat us down to talk about how the first week had gone and to see if we had any criticisms of requests. That turned into a Gambian history lesson that opened the floodgates on questions that we had and the converstation swam informatively on as we all moved to the campfire and continued chatting. I ended up talking to Joanna quite a bit (the only female Gambian ECCO employee) – about Gambia, about being Catholic in a muslim country, about her family, cloth, and her living situation. She is very nice.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Even More Njawara
Monday 14-4-08
One of the great things about being 2/5 deaf is that depending on which ear you sleep on- when in the African countryside you can either hear everything or nothing.
I heard the bats beeping Major 3rds together, the mangoes crashing onto various roofs as they fall from all of the trees, the donkeys randomly freaking out, the broadcast prayer service in the morning, roosters, cooing doves (lets be honest: pigeons)
Momodou's brother died this morning and yet he still went ahead and taught us- which is extraordinary. I like the sound of the Kora much more when it is not amplified.
The musicians in Mandinka culture are hereditary. If you are from the family then you are a Jelli (Jali? Jeli? Whatever.) They are peacemakers, messengers, and mediators as well as entertainers. A lot of the songs are teaching or advice songs.
I think one of my favorite things about this trip so far is how everyone talks so very openly about their bowel movements. We know who has gone, who hasn't, how many times and how successful they were. It is hilarious. I mean, part of it is that we really are keeping an eye on every one's health, but we're talking about poop! All the time! I feel like a 3 year old telling jokes.
The men from the camp are watching television outside run on the generator and right now it is playing something random and vaguely classical and the beating/squeaky bats are hitting the up beat of the waltz that they are playing. Awesome. Good work, bats.
We went for a walk in the village today and visited the school. There are a lot of what look like abandoned buildings around- I suppose they could be occupied, but it reminded me that Njawara used to be a larger village. Momodou was telling us that many people left- but I didn't understand the reasons he gave us. It sounded like someone was spreading rumors about a curse or something?
We have learned 4.5 songs in Mandinka now. I've recorded all but the national anthem, which I will get tomorrow. I've also recorded the Arabic school right outside the walls of the camp where they sings bits from the Koran over and over and over again in that bellow-y "I'm singing loud" voice that kids scream in.
I've learned to play a little tune on the Kora. I'm not keen on tuning the Kora, but it is a joy to play and sounds lovely. Momodou has come over twice to show me little things which is gratifying. He has the best "wise elder" face.
Okay, so I know "bats fly in your hair" is a myth and all because they have sonar and know where they're going and all of that- but one just flew into my hair! And I wasn't even moving around wildly or anything! I was just standing there! It richocheted off my head and landed in the corner where is sat- stunned for a few seconds before flying off again, aiming for the ceiling.
One of the great things about being 2/5 deaf is that depending on which ear you sleep on- when in the African countryside you can either hear everything or nothing.
I heard the bats beeping Major 3rds together, the mangoes crashing onto various roofs as they fall from all of the trees, the donkeys randomly freaking out, the broadcast prayer service in the morning, roosters, cooing doves (lets be honest: pigeons)
Momodou's brother died this morning and yet he still went ahead and taught us- which is extraordinary. I like the sound of the Kora much more when it is not amplified.
The musicians in Mandinka culture are hereditary. If you are from the family then you are a Jelli (Jali? Jeli? Whatever.) They are peacemakers, messengers, and mediators as well as entertainers. A lot of the songs are teaching or advice songs.
I think one of my favorite things about this trip so far is how everyone talks so very openly about their bowel movements. We know who has gone, who hasn't, how many times and how successful they were. It is hilarious. I mean, part of it is that we really are keeping an eye on every one's health, but we're talking about poop! All the time! I feel like a 3 year old telling jokes.
The men from the camp are watching television outside run on the generator and right now it is playing something random and vaguely classical and the beating/squeaky bats are hitting the up beat of the waltz that they are playing. Awesome. Good work, bats.
We went for a walk in the village today and visited the school. There are a lot of what look like abandoned buildings around- I suppose they could be occupied, but it reminded me that Njawara used to be a larger village. Momodou was telling us that many people left- but I didn't understand the reasons he gave us. It sounded like someone was spreading rumors about a curse or something?
We have learned 4.5 songs in Mandinka now. I've recorded all but the national anthem, which I will get tomorrow. I've also recorded the Arabic school right outside the walls of the camp where they sings bits from the Koran over and over and over again in that bellow-y "I'm singing loud" voice that kids scream in.
I've learned to play a little tune on the Kora. I'm not keen on tuning the Kora, but it is a joy to play and sounds lovely. Momodou has come over twice to show me little things which is gratifying. He has the best "wise elder" face.
Okay, so I know "bats fly in your hair" is a myth and all because they have sonar and know where they're going and all of that- but one just flew into my hair! And I wasn't even moving around wildly or anything! I was just standing there! It richocheted off my head and landed in the corner where is sat- stunned for a few seconds before flying off again, aiming for the ceiling.
More Njawara
I wrote journal entries with the idea that they were going to become blog posts, so in the interest of not wasting that content I'm going to transcribe one here. Some of the information is stuff I've already told you, but it was written in Africa! Which makes it better than those namby pamby entries written in London! Yeah! Okay. Done now.
Sunday 13-4-08
We woke up at 5am this morning while it was still dark at the ECCO house (already this morning seems ages away) we packed up our stuff and drank fruit tea while the sun rose. Then we tumbled into the van and drove toward Banjul. There was a large, imposing arch- which is how we knew we were in the capital. Buildings were white with green trim and small signs that said things like "democratic assembly" and "fisheries and agriculture bureau"
We got in line for the ferry just as the market for the queue was setting up. Tara, our expert haggler, bought us 5 loaves of bread since we had eaten nothing at breakfast. Many people were walking around selling various wares: dubious looking perfume, assorted watches, bras on a stick and the like. I bought a baseball cap because the sun was so bright. It turned out that it unzips into a visor- so I am quite pleased with that.
I love sleeping under mosquito nets. I love the feeling of being enclosed and protected while still being able to see all around.
We arrived at the camp just before lunch. Once we crossed the river, filled up with gas, and continued driving the scenery finally stopped looking like India and began to look more like what I expected Africa to look like: lone leafy trees amongst bushed and grass. Grass roofed huts and fences made from reeds and sticks rather than concrete blocks.
Everything is fenced in here. Empty plots of land are fenced in, housed in the middle of nowhere amongst the bush are fenced in. The camp and various sections are the camp are fenced in and so on.
When we arrived the people who work here were lounging about and laughing. They laugh quite a lot. One woman, whose name I don't know (Yuma), is always making jokes and imitation people. When I awoke after my "it is waaaay too hot" nap and wandered back into the living clearing she was telling crude jokes. Her English is not terribly good, but her hand gestures are plenty graphic enough.
It is Mango season! Only just beginning so some are not very ripe- but mangoes- all the time mangoes that we rip the skin off with our teeth like the savage mango hunters we are.
When we first arrived the manager sat us down, introduced his staff, had us introduce ourselves and then told us how very very very very very very very very (etc.) important we were. Basically: we bring money into the village.
After nap time he sat us around again and let us ask questions. It was dusk and his accent is difficult for me to follow- so I stared up at the base of the leaf cover from the frees and watched as dozens and dozens of bats swooped around and ate mosquitoes. It was beautiful.
Sunday 13-4-08
We woke up at 5am this morning while it was still dark at the ECCO house (already this morning seems ages away) we packed up our stuff and drank fruit tea while the sun rose. Then we tumbled into the van and drove toward Banjul. There was a large, imposing arch- which is how we knew we were in the capital. Buildings were white with green trim and small signs that said things like "democratic assembly" and "fisheries and agriculture bureau"
We got in line for the ferry just as the market for the queue was setting up. Tara, our expert haggler, bought us 5 loaves of bread since we had eaten nothing at breakfast. Many people were walking around selling various wares: dubious looking perfume, assorted watches, bras on a stick and the like. I bought a baseball cap because the sun was so bright. It turned out that it unzips into a visor- so I am quite pleased with that.
I love sleeping under mosquito nets. I love the feeling of being enclosed and protected while still being able to see all around.
We arrived at the camp just before lunch. Once we crossed the river, filled up with gas, and continued driving the scenery finally stopped looking like India and began to look more like what I expected Africa to look like: lone leafy trees amongst bushed and grass. Grass roofed huts and fences made from reeds and sticks rather than concrete blocks.
Everything is fenced in here. Empty plots of land are fenced in, housed in the middle of nowhere amongst the bush are fenced in. The camp and various sections are the camp are fenced in and so on.
When we arrived the people who work here were lounging about and laughing. They laugh quite a lot. One woman, whose name I don't know (Yuma), is always making jokes and imitation people. When I awoke after my "it is waaaay too hot" nap and wandered back into the living clearing she was telling crude jokes. Her English is not terribly good, but her hand gestures are plenty graphic enough.
It is Mango season! Only just beginning so some are not very ripe- but mangoes- all the time mangoes that we rip the skin off with our teeth like the savage mango hunters we are.
When we first arrived the manager sat us down, introduced his staff, had us introduce ourselves and then told us how very very very very very very very very (etc.) important we were. Basically: we bring money into the village.
After nap time he sat us around again and let us ask questions. It was dusk and his accent is difficult for me to follow- so I stared up at the base of the leaf cover from the frees and watched as dozens and dozens of bats swooped around and ate mosquitoes. It was beautiful.
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