Afro-Photo

Youssou N'Dour For President

2012-01-04T12:40:00.000-08:00

Yes, the most famous mbalax star in Senegal is indeed running for president in the country's elections to be held in February 2012. While his music plays in literally every town and village in Senegal (and The Gambia as well for that matter), we will see if he is able to bring fans of his music to the polls.

In the following video message translated from French, N'Dour says his candidacy is a result of the men and women of Senegal calling for him to run. He asks potential voters to look beyond his lack of university education because he has, through travelling, "studied at the school of the world".

N'Dour will be running against current president Abdoulaye Wade who is 85 and seeking his third term in office. In 2011 Wade angered many in the nation by trying to change aspects of the nations constitution. After major protests, with hip hop musicians at the vanguard of those expressing discontent, Wade backed down.

With as much name recognition as he has, N'Dour will likely still have to prove that he's a qualified as a policy maker and is representative of the values the Senegalese people believe in. Senegal is a majority muslim country with some particularly conservative areas. With N'Dour's entertainment lifestyle he has garnered criticism from conservative religious leaders in the past. In response to the criticism, N'Dour produced the album Egypt which was his attempt to show that his music was in line with the teachings of Islam. The album went on to win a Grammy, but a Grammy and a Presidency are too entirely different prizes. Most likely the conservative religious leaders will be vocal about a Youssou N'Dour candidacy.

N'Dour says his run for the presidency will be to limit what he considers the dubious spending of the Wade regime, the most ostentatious edifice of which is the North Korean-built Monument of the African Renaissance. The giant statue, near the coast of Dakar, has been criticized for its pricetag, its design and its heavy use of energy.

I do wonder with as many connections and business interests as Youssou N'Dour has however, whether he'll be able to affect the political and economic change he has promised in the country. It will be interesting too to see how much being a celebrity translates into political support in Senegal, considering in the US, many voters cast their ballots based on political character created largely by media agencies.

For a real change-oriented Senegal it may be interesting to consider a guy with truly revolutionary vision that is without the perceived baggage of Senegal's elite establishment. That would be Thiat of the Keur Gui Crew, as seen in the video below.

Here's to a free, fair and safe election in Senegal next month.

The Best Photobooks of 2011: A Comprehensive List

2012-01-04T12:04:00.001-08:00

Thanks to the site eyecurious we have the most comprehensive list of the year's best photobooks. This list of lists was compiled by scouring the web for every single Best Photobook list available (more than 50) and then listing the books that featured on the highest number of lists. According to Eye Curious, 2011's "Best Book" is...Redheaded Peckerwood by Chriastian Patterson, which was featured on a very impressive 19 lists.

Of course as an art, what is "best" in photography is entirely subjective. Yet the fact that more than 50 lists were written this year is emblematic of that fact that there is great interest in photographic publishing. As advancing digital technology coaxes more and more of our lives online it is comforting to know that the photography book is still a viable medium. The internet is on the one hand a major competitor to physical publishing and on the other a major tool for communication and design that makes the ability to share and appreciate art much much easier.

Oh and if you didn't get your fix from the first list, another photobook list that has traditionally been very well informed is that of Photoeye Magazine, who this year asked many photo critics and photographers to share their favorites of the year.

Best African Music Videos of 2011

2011-12-22T20:34:00.000-08:00

Over at the content-rich blog Africa Is A Country, the site's posters are coming up with some end of the year "Best Of 2011" lists related to contemporary African media. Tom Devriendt, a human library of African music knowledge, has posted his list of the year's best African music videos. Now Tom, in addition to another of the blog's prolific posters Sean Jacobs, appears to me to be an indefatigable sampler of the full spectrum of African-influenced music. (How do these guys find videos before anyone else?) One of his inspirations for creating the list, he writes, is the dearth of African music videos on some of the web's top music sites. Culling from the hundreds of quality videos produced in the 55 African nations and the extensive diaspora, Tom has done a rather stellar job of putting together his top 10 music videos list.

As a connoisseur of African music videos myself and inspired by Tom/Africa Is A Country, I have also decided to curate my own list of the year's best videos emanating from African musicians. While Tom's list contains a few of my favorites, I'm going to highlight videos not mentioned by Tom.

1. Siji - Ijo
A Nigerian who has lived in Lagos, London and the United States, Siji offers up his pulsing beats as a backdrop for a dance competition in this video. The video features legit moves that appear to have catchy names like Boogalo, Pindrop, The Jerk, Fire Dance and Bata, while Siji serves as a competition judge. Making a cameo is Ade Bantu, an actor/musician who appears with Nneka in the film Relentless (one I wouldn't mind seeing). Here's a translation of the song's chorus courtesy of a commenter named "Omopupaa" on the youtube link:
E ju apa (Wave (throw) your hands)
E na ese (stretch your feet)
E mi ori (Shake your head)
E dide k'e mu 'jo jo (Get up and dance)

2. M.anifest - Suffer
Ghanaian M.anifest flows so smooth as he walks through the dusty streets of Accra. The line that always gets stuck in my head in this song is, "If you got a name like Muhammed or Mustapha/ Flyin' might be tougher/ My sympathies brother". M dot dot also appears with K'naan and Mulatu Astake on Africology's "Addis Soul Vol. 1" mixtape. Producer DJ Juls, who has also worked with FOKN BOIS on a couple of mixtapes this year has made a remix of Suffer as well.

3. Stromae - Peace or Violence
From Belgium, but with roots in Rwanda, Stromae follows his hit Alors on Danse with the brilliantly edited Peace or Violence. Both songs are off his album, "Cheese". This video weaves together seamlessly scenes which resemble each other in composition, yet convey vastly different circumstances. Fantastic use of slow motion.

Stromae - Peace or Violence clip official by Nora_Amer

4. Stella Mwangi - Lookie Lookie
A Kenyan living in Norway, Stella blew up this year after she competed in the Norwegian Melodi Grand Prix Singing Contest with the song Haba Haba. Despite protests that she wasn't a real Norwegian, Haba Haba's inspirational lyrics were enough to win the hearts of a generation of young Norwegian girls as well as the contest prize, making her Norway's official entry into the 2011 Eurovision contest. Lookie Lookie on the other hand is little less wholesome. With its damn catchy rhythm, the video has Stella gettin' down and playing with her curls on a rooftop where she exhorts us to pour her a shot of Patron and make her twist and shout. This isn't the first time STL has been seen on a rooftop. Yeah, she can rap too.

5. TY Bello - The Future
Released right before the Nigerian Presidential elections in April 2011, this video is call to the Nigerian people to come together to overcome national challenges such as tribalism, corruption, poverty and insecurity. With the sincerity of her words and the moving images of Nigerians taking to the street in the name of unity (+ a cameo by Banky W), TY Bello succeeds in encouraging positive aspects of Nigerian nationalism. I'm sure MEND and Boko Haram even get a bit teary-eyed when they see this video. (Bonus points because TY Bello is also a photographer.)

6. Goldfish - We Come Together
This South African group comes together in the form of a litany of classic video games to save the lady goldfish from all kinds of evil foes that look like they come from the worlds Sonic the Hedgehog, Angry Birds, Garfield and Star Wars. Who doesn't like pixelated violence and piano samples?

7. Nneka - My Home
While Tom prefers the animated style of Nneka's Soul is Heavy video, I find her soul reveals itself heavier in My Home when she confronts the difficulties of various lifestyles across Nigeria's social strata. The video is directed by Clam Magazine founder Andy Okoroafor who also directed Nneka in his recent film "Relentless". For more Nneka watch the making of videos for her latest album Soul is Heavy. Damn that is a hot accent.

8. Lizha James - Nyandayeyo
Leave it to Moza Girl Lizha James to do it big as usual. Director DJ Marcell who produces most of the biggest videos in Mozambique and Angola delivers extravagant global imagery in this one. The video is dedicated to Angolan music producer I.V.M. beatz (creator of Windeck with Cabo Snoop) who passed away in February 2011 in a car accident.

9. Just A Band with Michel Ongaro, Jahcoozi, Gebrüder Teichmann - Away
Away is part of the expansive BLNRB project, an initiative sponsored by the Goethe-Institute that partners Kenyan and German musicians together. The video features an asian cinema introduction and gorgeous black and white cinematography set in a simple forest. A woman ruthlessly hunts down a man for an unknown item and leaves the viewer's mind littered with questions. Just A Band has had a string of impressive, conscious, creative videos with Usinibore, If I Could and of course, Kenya's best viral phenomenon Ha He. Long live Makmende!

10. Ntjam Rosie - Space of You
Netherlands-based Cameroonian Ntjam Rosie blends her smooth jazzy vocals with psychedelic visuals in this video that makes you wonder if (or wish) you are on something. The song's soothing baseline and sharp piano notes are solid companions to swirling neon particles and slow moving overlapping images of the singer in her funky threads. It's hard not to feel at peace with this song.

Honorable mentions:
Darey - Ba Ni Kidi
Fatoumata Diawara - Kanou
Zakes Bantwimi - Wasting My Time

Bonus. Stlofa featuring Mokoari Molimo oa Lesupa Tsela - Linja tsa Media
This video, straight out of the Kingdom of Lesotho, was shot in an abandoned police building in downtown Maseru by Jeremiah Mosese of Mokoari Street Films. Stlofa is one of the biggest acts in Lesotho among young people and he was one of the final 5 in this year's Lesotho Superstar singing competition (Lesotho's own American Idol style contest hosted by the legendary Tsepo Tshola, formerly of the group Sankomota.) The filmmaker, Jeremiah, is a friend of mine and he invited me to take photographs on the set of the video. Unexpectedly, I actually ended up shooting the parts of the video in which Jeremiah himself sings. The video opens with a few clips shot in Berlin that are part of Jeremiah's upcoming feature film "Red Drought" about a post-apocalyptic world in which a Union of African States gives foreign aid to a war-torn, water-scarce Europe. Look out for it soon.

For the record my favorites on the Africa Is A Country list are:
Spoek Mathambo - Control
Burkaka Som Sistema - Hangover (BaBaBa)
Blitz the Ambassador - Native Sun (short film)

Looking forward to what 2012 has to bring in the short, musical video format.

ZER

Over and Under the Wheels

2011-12-20T14:11:00.000-08:00

The following is a short piece I wrote on a bus ride from Maputo to Johannesburg in October 2011. It had been a long time since I wrote a short story piece such as this, but I was compelled to put pencil to notebook as I observed what unfolded before me. It was indeed one of those poignant moments that makes one hyper aware of their surroundings.
~~~~~~
A man lies down to rest under the wheels of a Greyhound bus as it pauses in evening traffic on the streets of Maputo. When the bus’s engines fire and it is propelled forward, the man is lost in a dream. The bus comes to a halt once more.

At first people are confused. “What happened?” they ask. “Why aren't we driving?” “Shit! There's a man lying in the street.” Is he dead?” “He's not moving.” “Who did this?” they exclaim.

Oily foreheads are pressed to scratched windowpanes as the bus passengers try to crane their necks for a peek at the body. “Was it our bus?” “Did our driver do this?” “Was it our combined weight that forced the life from this man?” Questions abound.

As for me, I didn't even feel the bump. Bumps are normal around here. I was engrossed in a book, One Day I Will Write About This Place by Binyavanga Wainaina. Later, when I am compelled to reflect on this moment, this collection of moments, I will channel a bit of Wainaina's style.

A few brave travelers disembark into the cool evening air to get a better view. Others follow slowly. Cautiously. It becomes clear that the bus isn't going anywhere anytime soon. The traffic is still flowing beside us nonchalantly, rows of cars making their way past the scene of the accident as if this is a normal occurance. Nobody is near the body. Does that mean he's dead, I wonder? Do we know he's dead? He is dead. Eventually an orange road triangle is placed near the body to alert oncoming cars of the obstacle.

Just across from the man, a homeless lady is wrapped in a blanket on the sidewalk. She seems not to notice or care that the sidewalk is now swelling with people. Faces marked with concerned expressions. Stomachs replete with knots. Some are saying the man and this woman are, were rather, together. She cannot be bothered. Her head is under her blue striped blanket. She projects none of the concern of those hovering above her. Perhaps she is desperately trying not to address the accident. Perhaps she knows just how much premeditation preceded the accident. At this moment, for her, her pavement blanket is the safest place on earth. The man’s body has no blanket covering it. It is exposed.

The man is now referred to as a body. He has been emasculated. The ambulance takes 45 minutes to arrive. We are back on the bus now. Waiting all the while. Calls are made to loved ones. Different versions of the story are told. Some stories are presented as theories. Others are authoritative facts. We wait. Someone exclaims in frustration, “How could he do this to us? He must have been on drugs. These people!”

People begin coping in their own ways. Jokes are cracked. Takeaway dinners make early appearances. Religious texts are cradled. Reassuring words are repeated in bowed heads.

The ambulance finally takes the body away. The police take our driver away. The driver has to make a statement about the accident at the police station the knowing ones say. I confront the evening chill one more time to examine the scene. This time I am alone. There is a pungent odor in the air. I can't remember whether or not it was there the first time I went out.

Another ambulance speeds past, siren blaring, responding to a different emergency. Other peoples' perceived inconvenience. There were no sirens for our guy. No speeding. No urgency. Just obligated perfunctory duty to take care of the mess cause by these people.

I go over to where the man was lying. The orange road triangle is gone. A flattened cardboard box marks his resting place. His memorial. A splattering of blood scintillates under the streetlights. The place is abandoned now. The traffic too has died. The only one left on the scene is the mysterious blanketed woman. She is unmoving in her patterned shell. She is the street's memory.

African Bloggers Statement on David Kato and Uganda

2011-02-25T04:39:00.000-08:00

“We the undersigned wish to express our deep sadness at the murder of Ugandan human rights defender David Kato on 26th January 2011. David’s activism began in the 1980s as an Anti-Apartheid campaigner, where he first expressed a strong passion and conviction for freedom and justice, a passion which continued throughout his life. David was a founding member of Sexual Minorities Uganda, where he first served as Board member, and until his death as Litigation and Advocacy Officer. He was also a member of Integrity Uganda, a faith-based advocacy organization.

David was a man of vision and courage. One of his major concerns was the growth of religious fundamentalism in Uganda and across the continent and how this would impact on the rights of ordinary citizens including lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered / Gender Non-Comforming and Intersex [LGBTIQ] persons. Years later his concerns were justified when the Ugandan Anti-Homosexuality Bill backed by religious fundamentalists was outlined in 2009. David was also an extremely brave man who had been imprisoned and beaten severely because of his sexual orientation and for speaking publicly against the Anti-Homosexuality Bill.

Many African political and religious leaders in countries such as Ghana, Nigeria, Cameroon, Zambia, Gambia, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Uganda, Malawi and Botswana, have publicly maligned LGBTIQ people and in some cases directly incited violence against them whilst labeling sexual minorities as “unAfrican”.

In October 2010, the Ugandan tabloid, Rolling Stone published the names and photographs of “100 Top homos” including David Kato. David along with two other LGBTIQ activists successfully sued the magazine on the grounds of “invasion of privacy” and most importantly, the judge ruled that the publication would threaten and endanger the lives of LGBTIQ persons.

The court did not only rule that the publication would threaten and endanger the lives of LGBTIQ persons but it issued a permanent injunction against Rolling Stone newspaper never to publish photos of gays in Uganda, and also never to again publish their home addresses.

Justice Kibuuka Musoke ruled that,

“Gays are also entitled to their rights. This court has found that there was infringement of some people’s confidential rights. The court hereby issues an injunction restraining Rolling Stone newspaper from future publishing of identifications of homosexuals.”

Every human being is protected under the African Charter of Peoples and Human Rights and this includes the rights of LGBTIQ persons. We ask the governments of Uganda and other African countries to stop criminalizing people on the grounds of sexual orientation and afford LGBTIQ people the same protections, freedoms and dignity, as other citizens on the continent.”

Alix Mukonambi, Molisa Nyakale

Anengiyefa Alagoa, Things I Feel Strongly About

Anthony Hebblethwaite African Activist

Barbra Jolie, Me I Think

Ben Amunwa, Remember Ken Saro-Wiwa

Bunmi Oloruntoba, A Bombastic Element

Chris Ogunlowo, Aloofaa

Eccentric Yoruba, Eccentric Yoruba

Exiled Soul ExiledSoul

Francisca Bagulho and Marta Lança, Buala

Funmilayo Akinosi, Finding My Path

Funmi Feyide, Nigerian Curiosity

Gay Uganda, Gay Uganda

Glenna Gordon, Scarlett Lion

Godwyns Onwuchekwa, My Person

Jeremy Weate, Naija Blog

Kayode Ogundamisi Canary Bird

Kadija Patel Thoughtleader

Keguro Macharia, Gukira

Kenne Mwikya, Kenne’s Blog

Kinsi Abdullah Kudu Arts

Laura Seay, Texas in Africa

Llanor Alleyne Llanor Alleyne

Mark Jordahl, Wild Thoughts from Uganda

Matt Temple Matsuli Music

Mia Nikasimo, MiaScript

Minna Salami, MsAfropolitan

Mshairi, Mshairi

Ndesanjo Macha Global Voices

Nyokabi Musila, Sci-Cultura

Nzesylva, Nzesylva’s Blog

Olumide Abimbola, Loomnie

Ory Okolloh, Kenyan Pundit

Pamela Braide, pdbraide

Peter Alegi, Football is Coming Home

Rethabile Masilo, Poefrika

Saratu Abiola, Method to Madness

Sean Jacobs, Africa is a Country

Sokari Ekine, Black Looks

Sonja Uwimana, Africa is a Country

Spectre Speaks, Spectre Speaks

TMS Ruge, Project Diaspora

Toyin Ajao StandTall

Tosin Otitoju, Lifelib

Val Kalende, Val Kalende

Zachary Rosen, Afro-Photo

Zackie Achmat, Writing Rights

Zion Moyo, Sky, Soil and Everything in Between

Here is a little more information about David Kato

Revolution: Coming to a city near you.

2011-02-20T22:45:00.000-08:00

And now add to the list Madison, Wisconsin the town of my birth. That's right, nowhere is governance perfect and even in the US the people will STAND UP AND SPEAK, when their elected leaders greedily serve special interests at the expense of the honest populace. My mom and dad, both educators, as well as my younger brother, are out there on the streets demanding fair and responsible budgeting. Thanks for making me proud guys.

Hear about the Wisconsin protests from the ED Schultz Show on MSNBC.

Revolution Egypt & Tunisia : Designers React

2011-02-13T23:21:00.000-08:00

Borrowing a phrase from the excellent blog A Bombastic Element: The Revolution Will Be Embedded...

Revolution Egypt & Tunisia : Designers React: "

North Africa is experiencing what is now called the biggest revolution in modern times as millions of protesters join in the fight against oppression, dictatorship and political domination. With that said, designers and artists are joining in protest and here is a small collection of some digital/graphic art. Please feel free to suggest some more we would love to see what you’ve found.

The Searcher

Marlena Buczek Smith

Mshamma

Freestylee – Michael Thompson

Power to the People – Omar Nejai

Z.B.A. the zombie

The King is Dead – Sharif Elshinnawi

Egypt Solidarity - Isaiah King

Cairo 2011 – Malachi Cameron

Dictator – Marwan Shahin

Proud to be Egyptian – Moataz Elsayed

All the Kings Violins

2011-02-06T10:04:00.000-08:00

Last night, I ventured out with a few friends to the Maseru Convention Centre, whose glass-paneled walls had previously only reflected my image from the outside. We had been invited to a classical music performance and were told to dress nicely. I threw on my best, which is a button down shirt with a tie and sweater on top. The color combination, dominated by brown and maroon was reasonably well orchestrated. A bright red pair of complementary socks from South African Airways really tied the ensemble together and ensured a solid level of funkiness was maintained. Of course when, we the Peace Corps Volunteers, show up, we find literally everyone is wearing a black tuxedo or elegant flowing dress. I'm still saving up for a tux on my meager Peace Corps living allowance, I only have roughly 37 years of Peace Corps before I'll be able to afford it though.

After sipping a miniature glass of the sherry that was being offered in the lobby like I knew what I was doing, it was finally time to take my seat. Not long after most of the audience was seated we all had to rise once again as His Majesty King Letsie was escorted by an entourage to his throne-like chair at the front of the concert hall.

The music turned out to be quite the treat as there were performances by the Free State Symphony Orchestra, the National University of Lesotho Choir and Lesotho Defense Force Band. Each group did their own set and then they were all conducted together at the same time by both the Free State Orchestra conductor who had a classic, cartoonish looking jacket that is much longer in the back than it is in the front and the young energetic conductor of the NUL choir. It's not so bad being fancy every once in while even if I'm not very good at it. Not ready to dedicate my whole life to fanciness quite yet though.

I managed to take a few photographs from my seat, but I wasn't really in photojournalist mode as I just wanted to enjoy the show.

Cairo on the Ground: Now

2011-01-30T09:15:00.000-08:00

Long time no see. After a few weeks of rest I've somehow mustered the energy begin posting again. Already 2011 has been an action-packed year with public protests that have led to the overthrow of the President in Tunisia and ongoing protests in Egypt occurring on a massive scale.

I hope to share some interesting, worthwhile, enlightening content in the coming days and weeks, but first I want to start with a quick audio report from Egypt. A friend of mine that lived down the street from me growing up named Evan Hill is on the streets of Cairo reporting with Al-Jezeera. Evan studied journalism and Arabic and did a semester abroad in Cairo at American University so he is well placed to cover the exciting events with a nuanced perspective in Egypt. Below is a link to his most recent audio report hosted online on a site called AudioBoo under the profile name AJEnglish.

Listen!

UPDATE: As this post was being written Evan has posted another audio report detailing the condition on the Cairo streets. The new newest post is below:

Listen!

I'm not sure quite how recent the audio was recorded, it may be from a couple days ago, regardless the reports certainly capture the atmosphere of the captivating events. Evan speaks of check points, rallies and various types of interactions between protesters and military. Take a quick listen and transport yourself to the scene. Could be history in the making.

Lira @ Lesotho Jazz (Sharp, Sharp)

2010-12-22T08:09:00.000-08:00

South African singer Lira is coming to Lesotho on the 26th just in time for my parents to check out. The fashionable singer exudes positive vibes so I'm really excited to see her live. In the meantime all I have is her video "Ixesha" (which has a fun click on the "x"). Lira's green dress in the video is also quite magical. Enjoy.

Wordle: Afro-Photo Style

2010-12-20T02:47:00.000-08:00

Having come across a few word visualizations in the past few months that were pleasing to the eye, I enjoyed their aesthetics without knowing where they came from. Well this morning I finally found the coded source of their beauty. The website is called Wordle and it takes blocks of text and transforms them into statistics-driven artwork. Users of the site input the text and Wordle generates a image made of colored words in which words that appear more often in the user's inputted text are displayed as larger in the visualization.

Wordle looked simple and fun so I decided to give it a try. The three images below were randomly generated by Wordle's software based on the text from my previous 20 posts on Afro-Photo There are even ways to customize the shape and color of the visualizations. Go play around with it, it's quite fun. And click on any of the images below to see them enlarged.

Wordle is a fun and statistically sound way of gauging the content of this website. According to the visualizations the most common words are:

-African
-Africa
-South (Africa)
-Google
-Village
-People
-Lesotho
-Maseru
-Images
-Video
-Gambia

Of course it's not a perfect tool to discover the main themes of a given source, but because more common words will dominate the images and reoccurring themes do produce words that are employed more often, Wordle doesn't deviate much from the truth. Examining the words listed above, all of them have, in some capacity, been representative of my writing over the last couple of months.

Wordle is part of a growing trend in which statistics and data are presented in more appealing and creative ways. Whether to allow obscure data to appeal to wider audiences or to push the boundaries of information expression, this is a trend that is really picking up momentum. There is actually a TED talk on the same subject. Truly data can be beautiful.

Maseru: Night and Day + Urban Africa

2010-12-17T08:14:00.000-08:00

Two different photos of Maseru that I took, one during the day and another at night.
Maseru is a modest capital city, quite similar in population (~250,000) to my own home town of Madison, the capital of the Wisconsin. The population is set to grow substantially in coming years as laborers and families move to the city in search of work.

The chart below comes from The Economist's Daily Chart blog with data from ac recent UN Habitat report called The State of African Cities 2010. Maseru, unfortunately is not depicted in the chart. Even more unfortunate, is that upon examining the UN report, I found that growth figures for Maseru were not listed, perhaps because they were not available (The Gambia was not listed either). Too bad, because I wanted to compare Maseru to the other major African cities in terms of % of population growth from 2010 to 2025. There are, however, statistics for Maseru's access to clean water, electricity and sanitation services as well as the percentage of the urban population that lives in slums. In these areas Maseru fares rather well. With survey data from 2004, the report claims Maseru has 98.1% access to improved water, 74.7% access to improved sanitation and 33.1% access to electricity. This is compared with 82.8%, 48.8%, 28.8 respectively in fellow southern African city Maputo, Mozambique (it should be noted that Mozambique was slightly distracted with civil war from 1977-1992, though it has reemerged on the scene in recent years as an economic powerhouse). As for slums, only 35.1% of Lesotho urban-dwellers live in slums in 2005 compared with 79.5% in Mozambique and 94.1% in Central African Republic.

Another metric of urban living is the gini coeffcient, which measures income inequality. Using this metric, 0 is considered perfectly equal and 1 is considered perfectly unequal. Lower scores are thus more desirable as they represent greater equality than high scores. Lesotho's gini coefficient is not quite as impressive as it's other stats. Maseru has a recorded score of .58, though this data is rather outdated (1993). Other notable sub-Saharan African urban gini's are Johannesburg, SA with a painful .75, Lagos, Nigeria with a sad .64 and Dakar, Senegal with a less unimpressive .37.

Also on the topic of urban Africa, the website African Digital Art had a nice post showcasing photography from African cities.

Aaaand the South African literary magazine Chimurenga in partnership with the African Centre for Cities has published a collection of prose from African authors about their home towns which is called the African Cities Reader, an elegantly designed publication that I'm lucky enough to own a copy of. It's a publication that comes highly recommended, but if you are too impatient or too broke to purchase the reader, lucky you, the editors of the African Cities Reader were magnanimous enough to host it free of charge in pdf format here.

All hail the African city!

Africa’s New Trade Frontier

2010-12-16T22:30:00.000-08:00

Africa’s New Trade Frontier: "

Africa’s New Trade Frontier

"

China looks like a pretty huge player.
Come on US, let's represent.

Sharp, Sharp! African Video Sunday #7

2010-12-05T03:21:00.000-08:00

After this I can say I've covered mainstream South African house pretty well here. First we have the duo Liquideep with the video for "Fairytale" featuring the lovely South African entertainment star Nonhle Thema, whose production company made the video. I have fond memories watching Nonhle years ago when she was a star VJ on the O channel and I was a simple student at the University of Dar es Salaam. So the video is quite the treat. It's a modern day, South African Cinderella story.

Second, I wish to share the humorously strange Zakes Bantwini's new hit song "Bum Bum". Zakes has been part of the house music scene for awhile and is known for being an innovator. He continues the trend in this video with a little cross-dressing. Show me your bum bum. I wanna see that bum bum.

I'll be in the village for the next week so no posts 'til next weekend. Should be a nice opportunity to get some photos. Khotso.

Lesotho Panoramas

2010-12-05T00:26:00.000-08:00

There is a tumblr site I follow called theafricatheynevershowyou (The Africa They Never Show You) which posts a huge number of images and stories from African countries that challenge the common, lazy misconceptions of Africa as poverty, corruption, disease-ridden/a safari of lions and zebras. The misconceptions exist because in a few places, to some degree, those things are occurring, but they don't even come close to being an accurate depiction of a continent with 53 (perhaps soon to be 54) countries and 1 billion+ people who speak 1,000+ languages.

In the spirit of theafricatheynevershowyou I want to share a few panoramic images of the Lesotho landscape that I took, which demonstrate the unique mountain terrain of a country that rarely makes international news. Each of these panoramas contains 4-10 images that were merged together using a great open source photo stitching program called Hugin. The software allows you to connect the individual photos together using overlapping points that neighboring images both share. It even adjusts the lighting to be a perfect match. Wiki-what!

Since the images are quite wide, if you want to see the larger size of any of the images, I suggest you click on them so they appear in their own window or tab.

Behold the splendor of the Mountain Kingdom...

The photographs above were taken at Ha Baroana, Metolong, Polateng and Semonkong.
All images are copyright of Zachary Elias Rosen

Google Lesotho

2010-12-04T23:53:00.000-08:00

As part of their mission to have greater engagement with African audiences from different countries, Google has begun translating their website into African languages. The Lesotho page was recently offered in Zulu, I guess by proximity to South Africa, but there aren't many Zulu speakers here that I know of. I wondered if Sesotho, the language of nearly all Basotho (the Lesotho people), would be offered or if it is in fact too obscure for Google to care.

This morning however, when I opened up my browser, I was presented with Sesotho as the default language of www.google.co.ls. A pleasant surprise indeed. Not being a fluent Sesotho speaker quiet yet, I quickly reverted back to English, but it was a relief to see that native Sesotho speakers and anyone else with an interest in the "Mountain Kingdom" could click on the "I'm feeling lucky" bar in language they feel comfortable with. In this case it says KE IKUTLWA KE LE LEHLOHONOLO. Ngugi wa Thiongo would be so proud. Now we just need more Sesotho language content on the web. And I'm still waiting for Google The Gambia to be in Mandinka. But perhaps it might not be so far-fetched anymore.

If this country burns...

2010-12-03T02:55:00.000-08:00

My Google reader feed provided me with this gem earlier in the week. It's a video made by a Kenyan group called Kuweni Serious exhorting young people in Kenya to demand a more just, prosperous and peaceful society from their leaders. And to take responsibility as part of the movement that can bring about that change. From the group's website:

It is perhaps only when our country was set on fire that we began to see how deeply politics affects us. A few months later, we were paying hitherto-unheard-of prices for fuel, there was water rationing, and power rationing, and then food started to run out. Only then did many more of us realize that we can’t hide forever in the company of the Lil’ Wayne’s and Prison Breaks of this world. Perhaps it is only when our comfort zones were threatened that we realized that our leaders, our “Honorables” are self-obsessed, thieving, murderous idiots. Honorables, indeed.

And so we at Kuweni Serious – we’re a bunch of kids ourselves – have decided to go out there and find out: how do Kenya’s youth feel about all the chaos around us? Are we proud to be Kenyan or are we secretly wishing we could get green cards and disappear forever? Where shall we raise our own kids? Are we happy?

We intend to seek out all the young people out there who are trying to make sense of all this, the youth groups, the activists, the people who read the news and get so annoyed that they write angry status updates on Facebook, the students, the guys and girls who’ve just landed their first job and have been hit hard by the realities of the economy. We want your opinions, we want your stories. We don’t know what we’ll find, we might step on a few toes, but we’ll do our best.

The fires Kuweni Serious are referring to are the riots that took place in Kenya following their presidential elections in December 2007. Hundreds or people lost their lives in the chaos. But for what? I like how this video suggests how powerful people can be when they are informed and motivated, demanding truth and opportunity from their leaders.

The metaphor presented it that of a house. A renter doesn't have to care too much about the condition of a house. Eventually they will find another one. But the owner of a house must be invested in the house's future, as their own livelihood is tied to the house's condition. In this way, Kenyan's have their nation to care for. They are owners, not renters, there is no other Kenya to go to if their society crumbles. The same goes for Gambians, Tanzanians, American and the people of every country.

My favorite line from the video (actually the whole thing is amazing, but here's one):

It is not Obama's job to save this country. It is not the donors job. and the government has shown it's not their job either. Responsibility is not shared, it is earned. Freedom isn't given, it is taken. When we decide we want freedom, we will have to get it ourselves.

The video shows simple slow-motion shots of real Kenyans, Kenyans of different ethnic groups and different races. It was nice to see the recognition of Indian-Kenyans in the video as they too have played an important role in achieving independence for the country as well as economic growth. It is the same sentiment as that expressed by the novel Petals of Blood by legendary Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiongo. This show of diversity challenges our misconceptions and forces us to wake up to the realities of demographics and humanity.

This is truly a powerful video of exceptional quality. I look forward to seeing the future projects of Kuweni Serious and learning about how much of an impact their messages are having on Kenyan youth. I want to see this type of media coming from every country in the world, particularly those that have struggled with governance.

Knowledge is power. Strength in numbers.

The Kuweni Serious video reminds me of another video by Kenyan music group Just a Band that shares the same spirit of youth uprising with references to the post election violence of 2007-2008. The song happens to be damn catchy as well.

Madison Love: Dirty Disco Kidz

2010-11-21T06:15:00.000-08:00

I want to take a little time to rep my hometown of Madison, Wisconsin. Even though it has been a while since I've spent any time there I still enjoy following the happenings of my friends who are keeping it real in the Mid-West. A few friends from High School (Madison West) have been making the dance floor pretty funky with their music lately. Music that is actually rather similar to South African kwaito. I think those guys should come down here and check out the scene. So here's to Vince and Ric of the Dirty Disco Kidz. Word on the street is that it happens to be Vince's birthday today. Put your hands up.

Dirty Disco Kidz - Enclave Promo from Jordan Liebowitz on Vimeo.

Sharp, Sharp! African Video Sunday #6

2010-11-21T05:34:00.000-08:00

While it may be snowing in the US, our summer is just beginning in Lesotho and that means as people in America are shivering, it's time for us in Lesotho to bust out the grill. I went to a great braai (barbecue) last night at a friend's house and enjoyed some grilled chicken, hotdogs and corn on the cob. My contribution was a groundnut stew with eggplant, cabbage and sweet potato to share a taste of The Gambia. This braai thing might have to become a trend. Just so everyone has an idea of what a Lesotho/South Africa braai is like check out this Skwatta Kamp video:

Vintage Nigerian Sculpture

2010-11-14T23:51:00.000-08:00

J. D. ‘Okhai Ojeikere est un photographe nigérian....: "

J. D. ‘Okhai Ojeikere est un photographe nigérian. Ojeikere débuta la photographie en 1950. Photographe de plateau, il est surtout reconnu pour ses portraits de coiffures mettant en lumière la sculpturalité du cheveu africain.

Walking Photo Tour of The Gambia

2010-11-14T23:15:00.000-08:00

Here is an excellent collection of photography from The Gambia that I came across a few months ago. It is a walking tour that covers the length of the Gambia in which the photographer interviews and photographs traditional leaders known as Alikalos. This series is particularly special for me because I've been to many of the places that appear in the images. And I actually know the lady with the blue head scarf quite well as I interview her for a gender and development documentary as one of my project. The woman, whose name is Fatou, is one of the few female Alikalos in the country, yet she is still well respected. I t was an insiring experience to speak with her and see her in action. I also appreciate that the photographer's team followed cultural protocol by bringing kola nuts as a gift to each of the villages they visited. This is a gesture that is very well appreciated. By me as well.

Thanks to Kate Bomz for posting on this series so I could conveniently reblog it.

This is the story about an African...: "

This is the story about an African adventure………

In 2009, Florio & Jones walked around The Gambia, West Africa, entirely by foot, along with 3 Gambians, 2 donkeys and cart. Florio shot what are now award-winning portraits of every village chief (Alkalo) they stayed with on the expedition. Using the Gambian traditional practice of ‘Silafando’ which translates as ‘a gift to you on behalf of my journey’ - presenting the chief with kola nuts (a bitter seed, containing caffeine, that is enjoyed by African elders) . This age-old tradition ensures that all travelers are welcomed into each village and under the care of the Alkalo.

Florio’s village chief portraits have since received wide-spread accolade from the prestigious International Photography Awards (IPA/Lucie’s) ‘People Photographer of The Year’; Photo District News - cover on PDN’s August 2010 edition; finalist in PDN’s Faces Competition, 2010; honorary mention in the NYPhoto Festival Awards ‘Fine Art’ Series, 2010; expedition article commissioned by The Independent Travel Magazine, London; interview with Adventure Travel Magazine and more……..

http://www.floriophoto.com/#/projects/930km%20african%20odyssey/1

Sharp, Sharp! African Video Sunday #5

2010-11-14T03:50:00.000-08:00

Keeping groovy with the South African I present to you the group TEARGAS. These guys know how to make a catchy tune, usually with a solid blend of English and local languages. Another role you'll see these guys playing is style Ambassadors for the popular t-shirt company Ama Kip Kip. Here's a TEARGAS song that I just can't get out of my head.

The Bonus is a song featuring DJ Tira, a South African kwaito mixer that played in Maseru this weekend. It's sure to get your feet tapping at the very least.

For Jah Kunda, The Gambia

2010-11-14T03:38:00.000-08:00

Amazones - Thierry Le Goues

2010-11-09T03:18:00.000-08:00

Here is a stunning image from a photo collection I came across a few years ago. This has to be one of my favorite photographs ever. And it's actually one of the more tame one's from the rather erotic collection.

Amazones - Thierry Le Goues: "

Amazones - Thierry Le Goues

words by ~workisnotajob

2010-11-09T03:07:00.000-08:00

So I've added a few tumblr sites to my Google reader lately. I get bombarded with images all day long now. As a man who appreciates images it's not so bad, though some of the feeds are hit and miss. Below is a HIT that describes exactly how I feel about so many things right now.

words by ~workisnotajob: "

words by ~workisnotajob

Sharp, Sharp! African Video Sunday #4

2010-11-07T05:40:00.000-08:00

South Africa has some high quality music that really doesn't get enough play in the US. We're talking some seriously catchy beats and compositions that either make me want to dance or learn 10 new languages, or both. I've discovered so many solid acts since coming to the Mountain Peak overlooking South Africa that is Lesotho. This week I'll share some tracks by Jozi, whose name is a shortened version of the metropolis Johannesburg. These guys really know how to blend a traditional sample with global hip hop rhythms.

The bonus today is an old song by white South African Johhny Clegg who has been uniting and inspiring people for decades. He is the founder of the first bi-racial band in South Africa. And the man does the Zulu stomp like a pro. Check it out.

White Wedding in Lesotho

2010-11-07T05:24:00.000-08:00

I get attached. So when I heard that my host sister from the village I did my training in was getting married, I knew I had to go back there on the wedding day to help her celebrate. I didn't matter that I had only met her on one occasion on a single chilly evening, I was determined to see how Basotho tie the knot.

My sister and I had formed our sibling bond during that one chilly evening talking about life, love and work in Lesotho as she made box after box of Jello in the glow of our lantern-lit dining room. Her husband-to-be was coming the next day with an entourage to present our family with the lebola, or bride price, traditionally paid in cows, the oldest form of wealth in Lesotho. The money goes to financing the wedding ceremony and purchasing items with which to furnish the new household the couple would be staying in. The lebola was paid the next day, though it took the form of cash since both the bride and the groom are urban city dwellers. I suppose it could be easier that way for those more connected to the commercialized world, though I wonder what the ancestor would think.

I eventually had to leave the village to start work at my site in the capital, but I remained committed to experiencing the wedding of my urban sister back in the rural village. After numerous text messages from another, younger host sister attending high school in the village and a few awkward phone calls in which I had to decipher my proud and energetic host mother's rapidfire Sesotho, I had the details of the program.

When the exalted day arrived, I assembled a Peace Corps crew of volunteers that also did the their training in the same village and we set off for the taxi rank (as the open lot with all the buses is called) to try and catch a ride to our rustic destination. On the way over, we took a short detour so I could get a gift for my host family. I knew just the thing. When I was in the village, my host mother was not shy about sharing her love for “Kentucky”, which was her way of referring to the fried chicken from the several KFC franchises in the country. Forget what KFC stands for in America, in Lesotho KFC is the ultimate expression of elite indulgence, as the hip marketing and high prices give customers a sense of cosmopolitanism. Of course you can find better chicken in larger portions for half the price at local restaurants, but that's irrelevant. A KFC bag here is roughly equal to walking down the street with a Loius Vittoun handbag. And on this particular morning, we arrived to the store shortly before it had opened and there was already a sizable line. Before long, the doors were open. The line moved rapidly with American style efficiency and soon the gilded chicken was in my possession. Were were off to catch a bus.

When we reached the place where our bus to the village was supposed to be, we found that it had already gone. It was still morning and we were assured another bus was on the way so we braved the beaming sun and waited. I tried balancing the KFC bag on my head to pass the time. I was remarkably successful and a few passersby gave quizzical looks. No bus. A hawker came by selling cassette tapes of local accordion musicians, heroes of the popular Famo genre. He seemed surprised when was I actually interested, not knowing I'm on an endless quest to bolster my African music collection, the more obscure the better. I utilized my seasoned bargaining skills and ended up with two cassettes for a rather reasonable price. Still no bus. We started asking around and realized that there would indeed be another bus, but that it wouldn't be leaving until late in the afternoon.

Attending the wedding was a must so we explored our options by chatting with some girls seeking out their own bus. Through them we discovered we could take another route that would drop us a few kilometers from our destination. We jumped at the opportunity and after a quick bus ride outside of town we found ourselves walking down a dirt road headed to our village and the wedding celebration.

I could feel my skin burning under the sun as we walked, but the journey moved quickly as the surroundings became more and more familiar. Around that same hilly bend and across the that same shallow stream and we were there.

We said a quick “lumela” to the crowd of young guys at the shop amid handshakes and hugs. The guys were passing around bottles of beer in the late morning and jamming to house music on the radio. It seemed in the weeks since we had left the village not much had changed. We continued on to my former abode. There was a strange calm in the village considering a wedding was supposed to be happening. And from my experience with village celebrations I know that if there's going to be a party it might as well be huge.

Upon arrival to my old house we saw that indeed it had the potential to be a massive affair with two mammoth circus-looking tents in the yard. We greeted familiar faces enthusiastically, though we were informed that most of the family and guests were at a church in a nearby village for the ceremony and that that the celebration would be happening at home when everyone had returned. In the meantime I took the chance to explore the compound to see what kinds of preparations were being made. A collection of huge pots smoked from wood-burning fires outside of the kitchen, indicating this was to be a feast of epic proportions. All the classic dishes were to be making appearances. Inside the smoking kitchen itself were the old men, crowded around a tall blue barrel. After the appropriate greetings I quickly put it together that these gents were sampling a fresh batch of home-brewed millet beer. One man pushed his cup in my direction and I took a healthy pull in solidarity. Back outside, I closely examined a cowhide, stretched taut with wooden stakes on the lawn. Aha, I thought, so there was a cow involved in the ceremony after all, the ancestors have been appeased. Likhomo!!! Cows!!!

I suddenly began to hear automobile horns honking in the distance. It was time. There was growing excitement in the air as a caravan of vehicles made its way towards us. The intensity of the honking increased as the first of the cars came to a stop in the yard, festively adorned with with streamers of white and pink. An entire brass band emerged from one of the cars and began to blow furiously and melodically on their horns. Finally, one car came to a rest in front of the others, yet the passengers hesitated to get out. I soon understood why, as, to my amazement, a giant red carpet was produced from nowhere and unfurled, leading from the car up to the house. When the carpet was ready for action, the car doors opened, the newlyweds stepped out and the ululations began as the couple made their grand dance along the carpet. Arms flailed, leaf-filled branches were torn from trees for shaking and the horns wailed even louder.

It was quite the spectacle to witness. The village was filled with joy in seeing one of their daughters in a white wedding dress holding hands with her man, smiling ear to ear. I couldn't help but think back to the weddings I attended in my beloved Gambian village. In The Gambia, most of the weddings were arranged with the girls having little or no say in the matter. On the day of the wedding the girl would be dressed in a dark dark blue and when the time came for her to travel to her husband's house she would wail, eyes filled with tears. There was certainly an accompanying celebration with song and dance, but not everyone was usually thrilled by the girl's departure. (This is by no means representative of all Gambian weddings, but was characteristic of many of the ones I saw in my isolated village including that of my Gambian host sister.) This wedding in Lesotho, on the contrary, was a completely jovial affair. This sister was in her late 20's, quite ready for married life and had previously told me that she did love and choose her husband. Oh, how marriage is a different beast in different parts of the world.

The dancing continued as an expression of the celebratory mood for quite awhile before things calmed down a bit and the bride and groom took a seat behind a three-tiered wedding cake. While relatives and friends gave testimonies to the love of bride and groom, I fetched my bag of KFC and triumphantly presented it to host mother. As if she wasn't already excited enough, she took the special bag in delight and began to glow as she meandered around the crowd, mingling, bag prominently featured. Soon after the speeches, the band resumed and food was served. I devoured all the local favorites. Samp, maize meal, cooked chard, beets and chicken legs. Just as most people had their food, clouds and gusts of wind invaded the party bringing dust and fresh raindrops as their gifts. People ran for shelter under the tents, but the band played on, an essential organ of the party. The storm was short-lived however, as sunlight fought back and people drifted outside again. I wondered if the three-tiered cake would be a bit crunchy now with all that dust.

As the sky turned to gold we said our goodbyes and scrambled to catch a bus back to town at the edge of the village. We made our way past the shop where the young guys were still passing time with the magic B's of beer and billiards. Farewells were exchanged as we ascended the bus. I sat back and relaxed in my seat, comfortable despite the bumping and shaking caused by the rocky road.

A day well spent with family and friends. Here's to another of many great opportunities to see local culture manifest itself, enriching my experiences and my knowledge of Lesotho and the world.

Sharp, Sharp! African Video Sunday #3

2010-10-31T13:36:00.000-07:00

In honor of Lesotho's Morija Arts and Cultural Festival that got funky this weekend I'm posting a video by the South African DJ Black Coffee who headlined the show. Black coffee knows what he's doing on the decks as he produces club friendly beats that you just want to move to. Because cigar smoke and shaking bodies look so good in slow motion, here is "Juju":

The bonus this week is another vision from the diaspora. This time its Kanye West with his epic short film "Runaway". Say what you will about the guy's personality, but besides the dialog, this video is well put together. Kanye spins an interesting tale of a gorgeous phoenix's time on earth. The phoenix is played by Selita Ebanks in a costume as striking as it is sexy. I wonder if it inspired any copycats on a night like tonight, when we all assume new identities and roam the streets. The soundtrack to the video is well produced and catchy, while the dancing boasts Nigerian choreography.

Morocco and Spain: 4000 Photos in Two Weeks

2010-10-27T04:35:00.000-07:00

Pretty fantastic photo project. Very inspiring. I might have to have to do me one of these fancy videos at some point.

Morocco & Spain from Mike Matas on Vimeo.

thesmithian:<br><br>Morocco & Spain. 4000 photos in 2 minutes. A...: "

thesmithian:

Morocco & Spain. 4000 photos in 2 minutes. A couple on the move.

via NPR

What is Google Baraza?

2010-10-27T00:28:00.000-07:00

There is a new Google service I've been meaning to try out called Baraza. "Baraza" means “taskforce” or “council” in the East African Swahili language and that is exactly what the service is attempting to be by relying on the strong African tradition of social networks. Baraza seeks to create a community to engage African internet users in issues they are interested in. Baraza Team member Aneto Okonkwo clearly defines the service's purpose:

One of Google’s goals in Africa is to make the internet more locally relevant and bring more people online. One of the challenges of the internet in Africa is that there is a lack of local content online. At Google, we find that users search for information about local businesses, entertainment, health, etc but often don’t find it because the information is not yet available online. In order to help bring more local content online, Google engineers have created Baraza to allow people in countries across Africa to ask questions and post answers to questions from others.

I find Baraza's mission to be quite noble, but Google, ever the innovator, is actually behind in designing a platform for more African content and community on the web. The African blogosphere and news sites have naturally grown on their own to answer many of the questions Google hopes to answer with its service. Afrigator for example, a network of African blogs, has been around for years and plenty other micro communities exist for their respective niche interests. Even so, perhaps what will be innovative about the service will be that it is a more centralized and organized meeting place for those seeking African content to interact and find what they are looking for, albeit without a flashy visually stimulating interface.

One other drawback I can identify is that most of the conversation, if not all of it, seems to be happening in English. Having lived in different regions of Africa with very well established written languages, I can say that a conversation in English is not only limited to a more narrow group with a solid education, it's not always an accurate representation of what people are trying to say. Just ask NGUGI WA THIONGO, the famous Kenyan writer, what he thinks about language and he will likely tell you that language is the vessel of culture (in his own words of course).

Baraza is the latest in what appears to be a string of new initiatives designed to bring more Africans online. Google teams recently spearheaded two conferences in East Africa, in Kenya and Uganda, to communicate with local developers and tech entrepreneurs for the purpose of discussing what new tech/mobile innovations are on the horizon. Facebook too has been looking to expand its market by introducing 0.facebook.com with select mobile operators that allows users to access facebook for free. This service is marketed towards new web users who are logging on with their mobile phones Hopefully some fruitful relationships will be realized as African consumers are engaged and products are tailored to their interests.

The Google Baraza service has just gone public this week following its beta testing phase and so it will be interesting to see how it grows and evolves. I certainly will be trying out the service. We'll see how well people can respond to queries about obscure locales in The Gambia and Lesotho.

Baraza's introductory video is below:

Sharp, Sharp! Video Sunday

2010-10-24T02:29:00.000-07:00

Keeping it regional, I am presenting another batch of South African musicians starting with DJ Cleo. I've been experiencing the night scene in Maseru and the DJs down here actually know how to kick out some funky deep house beats worth dancing to. And the local dancing is in fact rather spectacular. That's the inspiration for this tribute to "Kwaito" or South African house.

As a bonus we have fellow South African group Freshly Ground sticking it to Robert Mugabe in their new video. As a result of this song and video, they have been officially banned from playing from playing in Zimbabwe. Freshly Ground and a few other bands played in Maseru last night and I had tickets and everything but it was raining so much during the day that I left the venue early and didn't get to see them play. Apparently the rains did finally abate so they took the stage and rocked Lesotho. OF course by then I was long gone. Instead of seeing the concert I did however check out a local bar with some friends. When we arrived the lights were out, but there was still a huge crowd inside hanging out and waiting for the lights to come back on. My friends and I went up and got our respective drinks by using cell phone screens to see the money, then sat down on some beer crates and watched as a group of spirited young guys sang Sesotho songs in anticipation of the electriciy's return. A solid night after-all.

TED Prize Winner 2011 is Photographer JR

2010-10-22T07:42:00.000-07:00

I am a huge fan of TED. TED gives a prize annually. For 2011 the prize belongs to artist JR. Can't wait to see what he'll spend the $100,000 on.

From TED:

JR exhibits his photographs in the biggest art gallery on the planet. His work is presented freely in the streets of the world, catching the attention of people who are not museum visitors. His work mixes Art and Action; it talks about commitment, freedom, identity and limit.

As he is anonymous and doesn’t explain his huge full-frame portraits of people making faces, JR leaves the space empty for an encounter between the subject/protagonist and the passer-by/ interpreter.

This is what JR is working on. Raising questions…

His personal website is JR-art.net

Africa is where music was born (animation)

2010-10-19T00:03:00.000-07:00

Africa is where music was born (animation): "

Africa is where music was born (animation)

Channel O Tree Animation from Rudi de Wet on Vimeo.

Video from Channel O South Africa reblogged from Baobab Avenue

Sudan's Referendum: Alternate Endings (or Beginnings?)

2010-10-17T03:13:00.000-07:00

Sudan is set to have a major referendum in early January to decide whether it should remain a single state or if the the southern Sudanese region should break away as an independent state. The people of South Sudan have generally been unimpressed with the national government in Khartoum and it is expected that in January the majority will vote for independence.

All eyes are focusing on the country to ensure that the vote is undertaken in a free and fair manner without violence. There is however, a history of violence between the North and the South of Sudan. If the outcome of the referendum is deemed to be inauspicious to any of the militias in the country, tempers could manifest themselves with bullets. The Sudanese situation is made even more tense by the fact that largest source of income for the government comes from the oil fields located mostly in the south. On the day of the referendum, the oil-rich regions of the middle belt will cast their own vote as to which side they would prefer to be on, North or South.

The government in Khartoum, it is presumed, is not real excited about the vote. Without a long history of fair elections in Sudan and with such high stakes, we could see the vote manipulated. My biggest fear (besides renewed armed conflict) is that Khartoum will allow the vote to go ahead and even realize the creation of a Southern Sudanese state, but that the oil rich regions will somehow vote to be with the North. You will still see a South Sudan that is excited to have self-determination, but without a major chunk of the resources that could finance their growth. This may lead to more poverty and anger than already exists in high quantities today. Hopefully however, there will sufficient pressure from the international community to see the true will of the people come to life this January 2011. Let's cross our fingers for a peaceful vote.

As we wait anxiously for the referendum to occur, we can at least be entertained by a video urging Sudanese people to vote.

Sharp, Sharp! Video Sunday

2010-10-17T02:01:00.001-07:00

I want to introduce a regular feature (well see how long I can manage it) on this site that highlights the high quality, high entertainment realm of music videos from African countries. With domestic entertainment markets booming in many countries and video technology becoming more accessible, the number of well produced videos coming from Africa is sky high. It's become a favorite pastime of mine to discover music from all over the continent and now I want to share the cream of the crop. Some videos will be from classic stars that are making a name for themselves internationally and others I hope you will have never heard before. Regardless, you know with me as the curator we're gonna be keeping it sharp, sharp!

To inaugurate the video feature we'll take a look at a South African woman with an incredibly soulful voice and dedication to producing music in her native Xhosa language. Here is Simphiwe Dana. Love the voice and the Afritopia. Enjoy.

And as a diasporic bonus and keeping with the futuristic theme I'll bring you a funky young cat from the US, Janelle Monae. This girl's legs move in such ridiculously incredible ways and I'm really digging the hair. Freedom.

Water...Blog Action Day

2010-10-15T04:06:00.000-07:00

So, word on the street is that it's Blog Action Day and the theme is water. The Acumen Fund blog was kind enough to point that out. Having lived in a village for 2 years where the water table was more than 100 feet deep and open wells were the most reliable way to access the water, I want to echo the call for awareness about the challenge to provide clean water to all the earth's inhabitants in a sustainable way. The fact that water is become more scare while populations are rising rapidly is quite scary to contemplate. Thus the issue is not simply providing access and sanitation, but ensuring that strategies are employed to make water use more efficient. In the US, water comes so easy to us in most parts of the country that we don't even really think about where it comes from. Yet many aquifers in America and elsewhere are drying up. I don't wan to go on, but if nothing else I urge everyone to: (1) find out where their water comes from (if it's not already obvious) to establish a greater connection to the valuable resource and (2) think of ways to reduce water usage. Blind consumption is no longer acceptable. I'm not sure why it ever was. In a global world (it always was), what we do affects others. In the coming years it will be more important than ever to take the African philosophy of UBUNTU to heart.

"You can't exist as a human being in isolation." -Desmond Tutu

And the Blog Action Day video:

Blog Action Day 2010: Water from Blog Action Day on Vimeo.

University Graduation Party: Lesotho

2010-10-08T04:54:00.000-07:00

Graduation weekend went down for the National University a couple weeks ago in Lesotho and I was lucky enough to be invited to a graduation party in a village outside of Maseru. I accepted the invitation immediately, excited about the chance to get out of the city and observe a community celebrating the educational achievements of one of its own.

I was traveling to the unfamiliar village by myself. After wandering around from car park to car park looking for the correct vehicle and after turning down numerous offers to be driven to my destination in a private taxi for only 50 times the normal rate, I finally found the appropriately marked car. On such a busy day as graduation day it wasn't long before the car was full, all of us squeezed beyond comfort, overflowing on to each other. Beads of sweat formed on my face in the mid-afternoon heat as the car weaved through the traffic leaving town. On the outskirts of the city we picked up some enthusiastic young guys carrying oblong paper bags. With smiles on their faces they turned back from the row in front of me and offered me a sip from their obscured bottles. I politely declined.

The car chugged on as the density of the city declined and rocky hills emerged. Eventually the conductor clicked a handful of coins in my direction, indicating it was my turn to pay. Bulky backpack on my lap, butt numb on the thin layer of foam covering the rough metal seat, I struggled to burrow into my pocket for the fare. After some delicate searching my hand finally triumphantly produced the required coinage and I passed it along to the conductor. I sighed and began staring out the window (a favorite past time of mine), determined to engage my visual memory in an attempt to internalize the route. It wasn't long however before I was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, it was one of my drinking buddies from the row in front of me, gesturing towards the conductor. I glanced over to see the conductor holding up the larger of the coins I had given him and saying “Bad money, bad money, bring new money.” Confused, I instinctively looked back to the paper bag wielding guy, my closest friend on the bus. He too echoed the statement, “bad money, it's no good.” At that point I had my “aha moment” and finally discerned that one of the the coins I had provided to the conductor was counterfeit. He handed the imposter coin back to me and sure enough, upon close examination the silver embossed symbol of cattle was indeed scratched, revealing a copper color underneath. I wondered if the people in the vehicle thought I was trying to pull some scam. I managed to blurt out in my defense, “hey, I didn't know”, but who knows how convincing that was. I reached back into my compressed pocket and produced a replacement coin, though in the process the imposter coin dropped with a clink into the abyss of feet below.

I returned to my window and watched as the houses outside were left behind, most of them decent sized cement structures since we were still relatively close to town, with the occasional circular thatched mud hut. After awhile I began to get that feeling where you think you may have gotten on the wrong bus, the objects you've been told to look for just don't seem to be appearing. I asked my drinking friend if we had passed my stop and he was able to reassure me somehow in his mumbly voice that indeed we had not, though we would be arriving soon. True to his word, I soon found the vehicle stopped at a seemingly random spot on the road and I was ushered out. Across the street I noticed a manifestation of one of the few businesses that makes a regular profit in the villages, the public bar. Upon arrival at the bar, I asked for directions to my destination and surprisingly they were delivered promptly and rather clearly by a man who dropped and ignored his hat as he spoke. I followed the dusty paths as I had been told until I reached the modest house on the hillside with the circus-like tent in its yard.

I arrived well before the graduate's caravan from the university and so I was able to get comfortable with my surroundings. I introduced myself to the family preparing for the event and was able to practice my rusty Sesotho with a few unlucky kids. I marveled at the impossibly large pots of food and did a dance with a particularly agile grandmotherly woman wearing a traditional Seshoeshoe dress who was quite fond of sticking out her tongue at me as she shook her body. When the caravan led by the graduated young woman arrived a delightfully welcome chaos ensued. Arms were thrust into the air and the atmosphere was replete with ululations. The graduate, proud yet shy, took her place at the high table under the tent, behind what appeared to be a decorative bonzai tree. A circle formed and it was time for speeches. Her father, a professor at the university, spoke first, followed friends and family, then finally the guest of honor took the spotlight and said a few quick words. With all protocols dutifully observed the time many in the crowd had been waiting for was upon us and the massive pots of food emerged to pay their respects. Queues formed for the adults and the children, the DJ blasted his beats and fingers were well licked. Besides the occasional broken glass and plate and the untimely tumbling of the table upon which the giant bowl of buttery green beans rested, one could call the party a success. It was refreshing to observe a tented gathering where hearts were filled not with sadness, but with joy.

As the sun burned red and hung low in the sky I departed. It was not until darkness prevailed however, that I arrived home. I was satiated. I had a full belly and a satisfied mind, my cultural experience in Lesotho having been greatly enhanced over the course of the day. Sleep came easy.

Below are a few shots I took of the celebration:

Rise of African Film

2010-10-03T11:30:00.001-07:00

Africa's interest in film is nothing new. From the Masterpieces of Sembene Ousmane of Senegal to second most productive film industry in the world in Nigeria called Nollywood, African cinema can be both artsy and accessible to the masses.

With the video recording technology getting cheaper and interest in African stories growing; on and off the continent, visual media entertainment has exploded in recent years. The usual major players are behind many of the movies (Nigeria, South Africa, Kenya), but other countries across Africa are stepping up their production quality and producing features that are entertaining and aesthetically pleasing. The FESPACO film festival held every 2 years in Burkina Faso has been a mainstay for decades now, but new festivals and awards ceremonies are now popping up as well like the African Movie Academy Awards held annually in Nigeria. As far as competing globally, South African film Tsotsi became the first African film to win an Oscar in 2005. Life, Above All is South Africa's entry for Best Foreign Film for the 2011 Oscars and it has a real chance. Other films released in the near future could be award winners as well. I'm betting Pumzi a Kenyan sci fi short, which played at Sundance this year will captivate audiences on a larger scale when it's rereleased as a full length feature. Another film about Kenya, The First Grader, a true story about an 84-year old war veteran who took advantage of free primary education in the country, is sure to be a touching tear-jerker. Even the film Inception, which I saw recently here in Maseru, has scenes in Mombasa.

Certainly film related to Africa is rising in popularity. Africa is becoming a major film locale with movies that are engaging to African audiences and those around the world. It's refreshing to see a diverse selection of African stories being told and I'm sure there will be many more to come. Film workshops like Film-Africa in Kenya are training the next generation of African Filmmakers to share their visions. Who knows, maybe someday I could work to bring more African stories to the screen.

Check out Kenyan Princess, an African film blog.
Released online, these trailers are creating a lot of buzz:

RELENTLESS from Lluís Prieto on Vimeo.

I especially can't wait to see The First Grader. And I'm quite interested to see Relentless which features the fine fro-y raspy voiced singer Nneka. Hey if anyone knows how I can get the PUMZI short let me know, I've been searching everywhere!

Online African Renaissanace

2010-09-26T11:19:00.000-07:00

The Online African Renaissance

Now that I've finally emerged from my Gambian hut and settled in my Lesotho compound I have had slightly better access to the internet and can finally take in much more of all the seemingly endless amounts of interesting content, especially that which is Africa/Photography related. I've been introduced too many worthwhile sites, I can barely absorb it all. My google reader is getting overloaded . The number of feeds I follow has risen around 60% in just the last week or two. My eyes are opening to what I would consider to be the Online African Renaissance. The worldwide interest in and capacity for sharing Africa-related continent by Africans and non-Africans alike has skyrocketed. Refreshingly, much of the sentiment of this creative force is that of positivity and pride. I see this tsunami of material as representing what African societies and African people (wherever they can be found) are about in a more comprehensive way. It's a testament to struggles and to triumphs.

The spread of technology and the rise of the African consumer has caused more people to plug in and take part in this explosion of creativity. Everything from from art to fashion to technology to literature is now covered and more! I want to share some of my favorite discoveries in various realms. I'm going to break them up into separate posts to allow each of them to receive enough attention. I want to cover: film, music, literature, fashion and tech.

This is simply an introduction. I feel like I'm just barely touching the tip of the iceberg of what's out there. As the young, creative generation from Africa and beyond gets wired, as online resources get increasingly connected and as old archives of classic African cultures get digitzed, the boom of multimedia from all over the continent and the diaspora will only make Online African Renaissance stronger.
Chimurenga Magazine states, “HE NO KNOW GO KNOW.” You've been warned.

The Ultimate Sources of African Flava Flavor:

Kate Bomz
A Bombastic Element
Afrolicious
Africa is Country

Wake Up and Smell the Diversity

2010-09-19T13:26:00.000-07:00

One of my pet peeves about media coverage of Africa, besides its focus on war, poverty and corruption is the absurd generalization of everything from culture to indicators. I just observed a particularly irresponsible example of this phenomenon on the BBC website. In writing about emigration from some African counties to Europe the BBC attempted to present some “ key facts” about the differences in a few indicators of standards of living between Sub-Saharan African and the Eurozone. They did so by placing all Sub-Saharan African countries in the same group. Does it make sense to come up with life expectancy figures for Sub-Saharan Africa when the numbers vary from 63 years from birth in Togo to 45 years in Lesotho (World Bank 2008)? For starting a business it takes 3 days in Rwanda and 213 days in Guinea Bissau (World Bank 2009). Using general statistics for the whole region is less than inaccurate. It's seriously misleading and it works to perpetuate the other negative stereotypes already reported by the media about Africa.

In contrast to the blatant generalizations of the BBC, The Economist magazine's website published a short piece by economist Lant Pritchett as part of a series that asks various development thinkers the question, “Is Africa Poised For Steady, Rapid Growth?” Pritchett's answer is refreshing. He starts by asking “Are mammals cute?” to illustrate the silly over-simplicity of the question. He goes on to say:

Take the 45 countries in Sub-Saharan Africa. Over 2000-2005 the average growth rate was 2.2%—exactly the global average—but the standard deviation among African countries was 6.1%—much higher than the global variance. This is a terrible aggregate. All knowing that country X is "African" has done for me is increase the variance—I am not sure whether it was growing very fast (as were Sierra Leone and Mozambique) or collapsing (as were Liberia and Cote d'Ivoire).

Talking about "Africa" enjoying steady, rapid growth is dangerous as in the foreseeable future there are likely to be countries with good prospects and countries in various states of disarray. Tagging the good growth countries with the same name as the bad might drag down expectations.

Another attempt to demonstrate economic progress in Africa and distinguish the lions from the laggards is a new book by Steve Radelet called Emerging Africa: How 17 Countries Are Leading the Way published by the Center for Global Development. I haven't read it so I'm not sure if its a fair representation of the economic situation and possibilities for the countries it covers, but regardless its a pragmatic approach to development in Africa. I'd say its worth a look.

Hopefully the media and the general public will soon get the idea that it's unfair an inaccurate to simply make generalizations about Africa. Perhaps the West should stop expecting people to know every detail of its history and culture while making serious generalizations (especially negative ones) about other parts of the world. Instead let's actually make the effort to learn about the diversity in different parts of the world. Especially when it comes to Africa it's time to wake up an smell the differences. Having lived in parts of East, West and now Southern Africa, I can tell you there are plenty of differences among African regions and countries. With information so readily available on the internet there is no longer an excuse for lazy generalizations.

New Country, new chips. And the changing of tenses.

2010-09-08T00:08:00.000-07:00

I was reborn in early June of this year into a small village in the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho. As is the custom, I was given a new name amid clapping, ululations and harmonious songs. I did not however, forget my previous names. Those will be with me forever. This time, my most recent mother christened me Mpho (silent “h”), which means gift in my new Sesotho tongue. I had found another home.

So indeed, my third year of Peace Corps service has begun.

I've found myself in Lesotho, The Kingdom in the Sky. It felt very comforting to be back in the mountains. It had been too long since I felt the strain of my calf muscles after a healthy uphill hike. Even though I was in a foreign land, I felt as though there was a familiar aura about the place. Nothing like being surrounded by jagged peaks. The rock coaxed upwards at dramatic angles.

I'm here to live. I'm here to collaborate. I'm here to learn. I'm here to pry open my mind and pour in the experiences. To take whatever comes my way and utilize it to refine myself. To evolve in a ways I don't even know yet. To receive and to give.

I arrived here in the winter, having neglected to pack a coat. I could see my breath whether I had a roof over my head or not. Frost blanketed the dry grass in the mornings. Gazing into my pit latrine, I watched urine steam on its way into the dark abyss. After taking a bucket bath with heated water my shivering frame also steamed as I scrambled to get dressed. We had gas heaters in our houses. But I wanted to acclimate. I rarely allowed the heater to produce its flames. Anyway, my host family kept warm by burning wood and corncobs. I inhaled vast amounts of think, potent smoke along with them, my eyes red and tearing. It was a gesture of solidarity. Of integration. We called it the Basotho Heater (the people of Lesotho are known as Basotho). The orange glow was soothing.

It was early to bed and early to rise. All the sights and sounds and smells and sensations were fresh and exciting. I was serenaded by the accordion and the vuvuzela. The cows ambled past my house every day. I bounced around in vehicles on roads that snaked through the rocky hills. I sampled every new flavor of chip I could find. My tongue learned new tricks. I strove to master the clicks. And after 10 weeks and countless hurdles, we swore in as volunteers in Lesotho (though I already was a volunteer from the Gambia). A couple of handshakes, a few snapshots, a massive slice of cake. Done deal.

I, like many others, couldn't control the smile on my face when I was awarded my site posting. I envisioned a different experience than the wonderfully rustic life I enjoyed in the Gambia and that's exactly what I got. I landed a gig in Maseru, the capital city. Learning to tie a tie became a priority. Tucking in my shirt, a must. I had to really start acting like I knew what I was talking about. My assignment was with Millenium Challenge Account Lesotho. And there is where I remain. The tense now requires a change.

Lesotho, I am here.

Illumination

2010-09-08T00:04:00.000-07:00

The flight from Johannesburg, South Africa to Maseru, Lesotho was spectacular as the late afternoon sun illuminated the patchwork of farms and rolling hills. All available land was seemingly utilized for crop production, right up the edges of rocky cliffs. The landscape was remarkably open. I wondered where all the trees were. The few I could see hid themselves along waterways and in small patches near villages. We flew on through the tumultuous terrain of the Mountain Kingdom, sailing past numerous villages. I was envious of how close the natural splendor hugged the villages and curious to know about the cultural secrets below.

There was an air of tranquility to the place. Not much activity could be perceived from above. Few cars dotted the few roads. I gazed through the plane window in anticipation of the capital. The mass of houses and buildings that eventually presented itself appeared less bustling than I imagined. What I saw was a sleepy mountain town in the midst of canyons and rivers ablaze with light from the setting sun. A couple of taller buildings marked the downtown area. Polygon houses the color of cement flowed out from there, each with a yard and a toilet.

We landed on the airstrip, on the outskirts of town, surrounded by maizefields. We stepped off the plane and were greeted by our breath in the air.

Lesotho, how do you do?

The new direction of foreign aid

2010-06-02T19:16:00.000-07:00

Here is economist Owen Barder's take on improving Aid Effectiveness. The Talk/Slideshow is about practically making foreign aid more effective by asking donors to focus on their comparative advantages. The "Paris" that Barder repeated refers to is the Paris Declaration on Aid Effectiveness made in 2005 by donor countries that refers to improving the impact of aid. Little progress has been made by donors to depoliticize aid and to cut ineffective programs. Thus, Barder's talk, presented to officials in Ethiopia, is a timely contribution. If you are interested in how foreign aid and charity money could be better spent, this 20 min talk is worth a listen.

This is his talk:
Aid Effectiveness-Owen Barder

Owen Barder, a citizen of the UK, is the man behind aiddata.org, the podcast Development Drums and I'm sure he does other things, the guy is rather prolific. Owen blogs at Owen Abroad and lives in Ethiopia.

Okay, that's all until I get established in Lesotho. I'm sure to be enlightened. See you then.

Opportunity as Development

2010-06-02T16:18:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I will find myself in a country called Lesotho for my 3rd year of Peace Corps. Look it up. In the meantime here is an interpretation of the word "development".

Opportunity as Development
by Zachary Rosen

Numerous people across a myriad of professions endlessly debate the meaning of “development” and the most appropriate path for arriving there. From professors to politicians to nonprofit workers to the average citizen, everyone seems to have their own opinion as to what constitutes development. Each person who is asked to explain their concept of development will use their own words, but the message they will likely convey is that development translates into a situation in which a group or individual the conditions prime for “livelihood improvement”. This is another vague term which only opens the door to even more questions about development's scope, quality and source. The following article attempts to offer an interpretation of development and livelihood improvement. I want to argue that livelihood improvement manifests itself in two ways, both of which are important for development to be achieved. The first, is the basic presence of social goods by either public or private providers in the areas of security, health, education, infrastructure, etc. The second, is the opportunity for individuals to achieve their goals in the global world we live in today.
As individual human beings, we all have the same set of simple needs wherever we happen to be. We have the need for shelter, food and water, essentially the tools we utilize to survive. In thinking about development we expand on the needs of human individuals to reflect how people organize themselves into societies and interact with each other. For the sake of survival and cohesion of the social group we need our social goods. This means in the place that we live we need to be able to lead safe, healthy lives in which we and our children possess survival skills and mobility. Government need not provide all the social goods as they are often less efficient at doing so, but it is their responsibility for creating the environment within which the social goods to be created and maintained. When these needs are satisfied we strive to achieve our desires, our personal goals.
Development doesn't end with the provision of basic needs and the arrival at a certain level of per capita income. Because of the extreme diversity of culture, climate, geography, and ecological resource endowment on this planet, it shouldn't be surprising that development has many faces. It certainly doesn't look the same in Mumbai, India or Dakar, Senegal as it does in my hometown of Madison, Wisconsin in the United States of America. And that's okay. If everyplace looked and and felt the same the world would be a pretty boring place. We do, however, as individuals, have a common thread that brings us all together. We all have personal interests and dreams. Thus, I believe the true definition of development is a condition in which a person from any nation on Earth has the opportunity to achieve his or her goals.
As individuals we have to decide what prosperity and happiness mean to us and seek them out. It's not enough to take someone else's conception of wealth, you wont know what you are working towards. At the same time, when given the chance, if you don't have the motivation to seize the opportunity to seek your desires, you have nobody to blame but yourself.
As societies and nations we have to create the conditions domestically and internationally that make it possible for talented, motivated individuals to achieve their goals. Complex historical and geographic realities leave some places with more challenging conditions than others. Being born poor should never limit someone's possibilities for achieving success. If a person demonstrates determination and capability why should they be limited by finances? In addition, we should reject dependency on aid as well. What is needed is a “hand up not a hand out”. That means development aid should make people more productive without allowing dependency to endure. People need to be aware of the tools they have available to them and empowered to think big. The power of education should never be underestimated. There's so much innovation to be exhumed if the proliferation of opportunity can be realized. Everyone has a responsibility to hold governments and donors accountable for creating social goods and opportunities. If we can do that, we will be much closer to living in a developed and just world.

The Secret to Being a Happy and Integrated Peace Corps Volunteer

2010-05-27T17:40:00.000-07:00

I wanted to post the piece I wrote for the Peace Corps health newsletter in Gambia that was published shortly after I departed. Having heard a number of volunteers vent their frustrations with the experience I wanted to share some thoughts with newer volunteers and even people looking towards the Peace Corps in the future about how to make their time worthwhile. The piece has been adapted slightly for appeal to a wider audience. I'm on my way to Lesotho next week for my third year as a Peace Corps volunteer. I hope to hit the ground running with these thoughts as my guide...

The Secret to Being a “Happy and Integrated Peace Corps Volunteer”

Relax. Nearly all of us struggle to find a sense of purpose as Peace Corps Volunteers. Our challenge is to maintain a semblance of sanity and good health while actually making a worthwhile contribution to the development of the country where we live. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that I have enjoyed my service and when I leave I'm going to genuinely miss the Gambia. Because most of us wish to look back on our service as productive and beneficial, not a complete waste of time, I want to share a few strategies that I've found to be effective in making me feel good about my service.
Number one is language. Being able to communicate well with your community is essential for revealing the true opinions, attitudes and needs of the people around you. Having language skills in your toolbox helps put your mind at ease in that you can be more confident that you are not insulting people with your strange American behavior. You never know when a casual conversation will give you an idea for a new project or present an opportunity for an ad hoc, informal teaching session. From young, squirrelly children to wizened elders of bygone generations it's important to be aware of the sentiment people harbor about development issues in your community. Good communication will help exhume village ingenuity and contribute towards the sustainability of your efforts. Plus, it's comforting to know that when you make connections with people instead of them talking trash about you behind your back, you can feel more confident that they've got your back when you need them. Of course it's possible to make solid connections without amazing language skills, yet the ability to understand others' needs and preferences and for you to articulate your own certainly helps. Anyone has the power to become proficient in at least one local language during their service, but doing so takes commitment. I suggest making best use of the Peace Corps resources, writing down new words as you hear them and seeking out local language adult literacy books that tell stories and progress in difficulty. Of course just speaking the language regularly will be the best way to train your tongue and sharpen your ear. I'm far from being a social butterfly, I've even been called an outcast and I may not reply to your texts anytime soon, but yet I have been able to reach a very solid level of Mandinka. Yes, language, the nemesis of many volunteers, has greatly enriched the quality of my service. And if you get good enough you can always go back to America and open a school to teach your language and make a lot of money. Oh wait, almost nobody has ever heard of Mandinka.

Number two is legitimate counterparts. If you are having difficulty finding meaningful work, take the time to observe who is active in your community and link up with them. Nearly every village has a couple of motivated individuals who just seem to get “it”. People who aren't afraid to try new things will be the most receptive your ideas. Assisting them in their work or collaborating with them on projects you propose will ensure sustainable and simply make it more likely that quality work happens. Working with solid counterparts is also a way for you to utilize your best skills, whether artistic, technological or whatever. Good counterparts present you with a platform to really show your stuff. I've heard many volunteers saying the maxim “No change in the Gambia.” Oh, I get it, it's a pun. Funny. Except that it's not true. Almost nobody is saying that change is particularly fast here, especially social change, but let me assure you that change is happening. Imagine what the Gambia was like 20 years ago with no mobile network, few paved roads, more conservative gender roles for women, lower school enrollment etc. The Gambia has come a long way and the people you take as counterparts are the change agents that make the process happen. The same can like be said in every country where Peace Corps operates. That's why it's so important for us as Peace Corps Volunteers to share ideas with local people and expand the scope and quality of projects that we deem to be truly worthwhile. I've met many Gambians who are intelligent, innovative, respectful and want to see their country develop. Those people are out there waiting for you to partner with them.

Number three is attitude. In experiencing life in West Africa and other developing countries you have to be open minded. If you think Gambians are fatalistic, listen to many Peace Corps Volunteers. It doesn't help much to make generalizations or condemn people for their views. Try to realize how people form their perspectives and see if you can chip away at any misconceptions they may have. The process goes both ways however and it's enlightening to know that once you spend a significant time in the Gambia, you will never be able to think about Africa the way you did before. But to be enlightened you have to get out of your hut or whatever type of shelter you call home. You have to put away the 100 in 1 Disney movies DVD and the blue films and get in the dance circle. Sure, a foreign culture can be overwhelming at times and we all need a break once in awhile, but don't let the periodic escape characterize your service. Instead take difficult local circumstances to be a challenge to your American ingenuity. Know that the way we approach our community will determine how they view us and how they respond to our ideas. Personal time is important, but use that time to recharge so you can stay positive and have fun with people in your community. As Americans we come from very different backgrounds as the people in the communities we're posted in (of course even Americans are a diverse crowd) so there's plenty of learning and exchange to be done. A little cultural sensitivity with Gambians can actually be quite enjoyable if you know what I mean. Learn to appreciate the simple things such as cold water and electricity as luxuries and not rights. Life can be a struggle and my colleagues here all know it's one hell of a struggle here in the Gambia, but the struggle demonstrates our strength and gives us some damn good stories to tell.

Lastly, number four is creative release. In a stressful environment, especially one with ample free time, catharsis can soothe the soul. Personally, I'm a madman of a photographer. My cursed photographer's eyes sees inspiration everywhere. If I'm not carrying my camera I'm probably wishing I was. Writing can be enjoyable as well, except if I'm dripping sweat all over the paper. In the Gambia my views about development are changing all the time, so there's plenty to write about. I think pretty much everyone feels an urge to creatively produce from time to time. And there's no better time than now to hone your skills and get the creative juices flowing. In the Gambia there's always open mic night and the annual Peace Corps photo contest to present your genius to the world.

That's about all the advice I have to share. From one “happy and integrated” volunteer to another, I hope you can have a worthwhile experience wherever you are. Oh yeah, one more thing. Relax.

Welcome to Nigerian Pop

2010-05-26T23:30:00.000-07:00

Besides Nollywood, Nigeria has developed a burgeoning pop music industry. I would say the quality of the music is on par with anywhere else in the world. Many of the music videos too have the look and feel of something that could be on MTV. Good production quality and directing are making Nigerian pop music a hot export. It helps to have a huge domestic market (150 million people) driving demand and a diaspora of enterprising Nigerians probably in every country in the world. Here a few of my favorites:

First "Do Me" by P Square
This was a major hit in the Gambia and had kids of all ages singing "Do Me".

2Face "African Queen"
This showcases the beauty and sophistication of African women. Love that shaved head.

Timaya "If 2 say"
Heard this one at the shop where I used to buy my Nollywood posters. The guy looks kind of hardcore, but he actually seems quite playful.

Bracket "Yori Yori"
Another hit with the Gambian ladies.

P Square "Danger"
Gotta love the wide angle.

Ikechukwu "Wind am well"
Nice effects and some solid shakin'.

Fela "Army Arrangement"
Still, nobody puts on a show on like Fela.

Catchy stuff, too bad MTV doesn't play music videos anymore otherwise I think these guys could catch on. These guys are making Yoruba and Igbo relevant world languages. Pay attention.

Things: Part 2, What I Wont Miss

2010-05-20T12:20:00.000-07:00

Things usually don't seem as bad in retrospect as they did were when you originally experienced them. Especially when you have so many positive memories associated with a place, you don't want the less auspicious ones taking over. Hardship, because of it's relative nature, is everywhere and manifests itself in different forms for different people. Yet there's power to be found in overcoming challenges or at least moving beyond them. There are plenty of things I experienced in the Gambia that I never want to encounter or repeat again, yet I tend to produce a little smile as I think back about them.
For anyone who has been to The Gambia feel free to comment and add to the list.

Things I wont miss:
Bumsters-These are young guys who hang out at the beach and “work out” with the hopes of finding a foreign patron to seduce or really any foreigner to hassle. While they come in a few different varieties, their unofficial uniform usually includes dreadlocks with a mesh shirt with the colors of the Jamaican flag or no shirt at all. They can be seen doing one-armed push-ups, flexing and sprinting back and forth at the beach. They try to act friendly in their broken English with phrases like “It's nice to be nice” and “Boss Lady”. They often pretend to be Rastafarians without having anyidea what that means. I understand the urge to sell things to tourists and even the fantasy of being taken to Europe or America, but what I don't understand is how a human being can make himself so unresponsive to the messages being conveyed by other people. No matter what you say to these guys they never shut up and they never go away! It doesn't matter if you've lived in their country fro two years and speak a local language flawlessly. They're like robots without real personalities programmed to annoy any Westerner they see. I grabbed a bumster by the shoulders once and explained to him my robot theory. He gave me a blank stare for awhile and then said, “Yeah man,” indicating he had no idea what a robot is.

Foolish tourists-As an American who enjoys integrating into and working in different African countries, ill-informed, insensitive, tourists are the bane of my existence. Nothing wrong with relaxing and soaking up the sun while you're on holiday, but there's no need to wear daisy dukes into town in a culturally conservative majority-Muslim country. And sure it might help to donate schools supplies to a school, but don't do it without locals giving guidance and don't toss bundles of pens/bottles/biscuits/etc. to every random kid on the street. Sadly, some tourists even buy-in to Bumsterism descirbed above. I could go on and on about the poor choices tourists make, but the general consequence is that local people start to make generalizations and/or begin to beg, harass, and at the very least, make negative assumptions about any foreigner that they see. Tourists please leave your naive, dark continent, wild animal, starving, click-language misconceptions at home, you're cramping my style.

Bad cell network-The village I was posted in seriously had some of the worst cell phone reception in the country. Of course the mobile industry has made leaps and bounds in the last few years in providing innovative services and designing cheap, accessible technology...but they didn't make it to my village yet. No that string hanging from my phone is not a fashion trend, in fact, the only ways I could get even a shred a service were by hanging my phone from select (high) locations or by climbing 20 feet up a water talk. And even then I only get service sometimes. Not being the fastest person to respond to texts or calls anyway, this actually gave me a great excuse for why I didn't get ahold of people earlier, but still, there were plenty of times when I wanted urgently to make a text/call and it just couldn't go through. Damn you Africell/Comium/Gamcel/QCell! Four GSM operators and not one with good coverage?

The heat-As much as I love sweating 24 hours a day, I'm a bit relieved to be home in America just as the hot season is getting serious with 120 degree days. Even the locals will tell you that the heat is crazy. The village I lived in was one of the furthest up-country where the heat was the most extreme. Gambians from the cooler, coastal area would routinely ask me how I could deal with the heat when even they couldn't handle it. I really have no idea, just drink a lot of water I guess and suck it up. Think of any adjective synonymous with burning and thats what it's like. Take your pick: searing, blazing, boiling, etc. It's a bit scary because no matter where you go, whether inside, outside, shade or sun you're being blasted with oven-like waves of heat. It saps your energy and soaks all your clothes with salty sweat. Riding a bike in the afternoon can be positively suicidal, but for some reason, I would end up torturing myself like that. When it's at it's peak, there's absolutely no escape from the heat.

Police checkpoints-Here's a fun little quirk in the Gambia that makes traveling fun! For whatever reason, despite the Gambia being particularly safe, with relatively few firearms, it has been deemed necessary to have checkpoints all along the main highways in the Gambia on both sides of the river...every 15 or 20 kilometers. Now when you consider the fact that I lived about 300 km from the capital, going down to the main office to take care of business was not very pleasant. Nearly every single checkpoint forces passengers to show an official ID and nearly every single car has someone who forgot to bring their ID so there's plenty of opportunity for police, customs and immigration to hassle people and waste enormous amounts of time (not all of them are ill-tempered and corrupt, but they ain't all angels either). A journey that should take maybe 5 hours ends up taking 13. And then there's the bag checks. Sometimes they look in everyone's bags, often threatening to take down the metric tons of baggage on top of the vehicles. Other times they check only certain individuals. I can't even count the number of times I've been “randomly” selected for a bag check. The whole checkpoints thing seems like it would be bad for business. And you build roads to ease transport only to slow it down with checkpoints that are for national security? I'll tell you what, I didn't feel a whole lot safer.

Lack of press freedom and freedom of speech-I'm gonna limit myself on this one, but I'm not the biggest fan of arresting of journalists for seemingly no reason and having to look over your shoulder before you open your mouth.

Village meat-People have asked me, “What did you eat over there in The Gambia?” I say, “Well, I lived with a host family and ate three meals a day with them so I ate whatever they had. The staples were rice or coos (another cereal) with peanut or leaf sauce pretty much every day. We didn't have much meat, only on special occasions.” Then they say, “Oh, that's too bad.” And I reply, “Actually, it was better that way.” Village meat is absurdly far from being appetizing. Even after the you move beyond the health condition of the animal when it died, the process isn't especially appealing. They just boil it all up and serve everything, intestines, liver, bones, fat and plenty of other unrecognizable parts, that are sure to active the gag reflex. It's a good thing peanuts also have protein, that meat was funky.

Being asked for to be taken to America or for a visa/invitation-As you can imagine, this gets old right after the first time, even when the person humorously asks to be put in your bag when you fly home. It's not as funny when the person wont let it go and was actually serious about being put in your bag. Okay, “I'll put you in my bag with the other 300 people and see if I can make it through customs.” Unfortunately, it gets sad after awhile when people who really have no skills that would be marketable in America let alone English speaking ability (or even any knowledge at all of American culture) keep asking over and over again. I've lost friends over it, but there's not much that can be done by an individual in the short term. To be fair, immigration law is rather unfair and desperately needs reform.

Toubabing-American, even-black Americans and Europeans, Asians, okay most foreigners who have been to West Africa can sympathize with the obnoxious usage of the word “Toubab” which is often translated as “stranger” or “white person” in all of the local languages. My gripe is again in the generalization of the term. The us and them mentality. The lack of distinction between the diverse peoples of the world. So the British and the French came to Africa and practiced economic and physical domination in form of colonialism, lame, I agree, but considering how globalization has propagated information and how diverse even single societies are now, the term is outdated to say the least. It's the worst when you greet someone in a local language and their only reply is “Toubab!” Even on the radio, the main form of media for rural Gambians you hear in local languages, “The Toubabs did this and the Toubabs did that.” It makes no sense for encouraging people to be aware of others cultures and for empowering people to realize that innovation can come from anywhere.

Skin infections-The Gambian heat can do strange things to one's skin in places one never thought possible. I'll leave it at that.

Beatings-I just never got used to this one and I'm proud of the fact that I was almost always quick on my feet to break up particularly savage beatings. Many parties are guilty and it's always hard to see and deal with, though especially so at schools where the teachers will tell that beatings “are how the black child learns”. Bullshit. It doesn't improve performance one bit. What it does is make kids afraid to go to school. If someone can tell me a legitimately good reason to beat their wife/child/student I'd be happy to hear it, but I haven't heard one yet.

Irregular power supply-Yeah, the Gambia is still working on implementing regular and safe power delivery. I lost two laptop chargers in a week once. And the power always seems to be off when you have a really important email to send.

Inshallah attitude-The view that “god willing” your desired outcome will occur is pretty universal and though it occurs in different intensities, it doesn't make it any less frustrating when you're trying to work with people to take responsibility for improving their livelihoods (something most people clearly want). Rural Gambian communities especially can have a little too much faith and not enough motivation to take good care of their families.

Obsession with “Babylon”-Babylon of course being the gold-paved roads of America/Europe (same thing). The economic desire to earn more for the same amount of work is actually pretty rational, however the problem comes in when the people with the dream to strike it rich in EuroAmerica don't do much of anything to invest in themselves or their children to make that goal realistic. Instead the young men travel through the deserts of the Sahara into Morocco, Algeria, Libya, or Tunisia before attempting to take small boats across the Mediterranean illegally. There are numerous pitfalls to overcome along the way including the Sahara itself, land mines, North African police, sinking ships, European immigration and more. Many actually perish in the sand and sea, but to so many young men the payoff is worth it even if you end up dong grueling work as day laborer in the construction or agriculture industries. Some even reportedly end up selling drugs. The pressure on the young men to go is rather intense as well. Even people with regular jobs in the Gambia can be considered failures when compared with successful migrants who build mammoth houses for their families. It's a sad cycle of abandoning human capital development and discrediting honorable local workers for perceived riches. This will hopefully be the subject of another post.

Lack of privacy-When you integrate fully into a community as was my goal, you really become part of the community. What that practically means is that your free time is reduced to practically zero as people come to your door at all hours of the day or night to say hello. I didn't mind as much when it was cute girls, but everyone else can be pretty annoying. The worst is when somebody come into your house, greets you and then just sits down without saying else. Nice gesture I suppose, but if you're busy and would prefer to be alone it can drive you mad. And they'll sit there for hours if you let them without picking up on any subtle hints that you want them out. In my village and it didn't matter, if my door was closed, what I was wearing, if I just got back from the bucket bath, if I had a private guest, whatever, people would continue to barge in. It had a nice community feel, truly I was honor that my community felt so comfortable with me, but can't a guy get a little privacy every once in awhile?

Content-less phone calls-Along the same lines as the scenario described above, people would regularly call me who I barely knew, greet me and say “Ansumana” (my Gambian name) and then go silent. They had obviously not planned anything beyond saying my name and I would have to awkwardly have to figure out who it was and then think of something to say. It was a mess. The worst is when they do it at night. Curse the phone companies for giving people free calling after 1am!

Ah, the memories. I hope this post isn't too much of a downer. My service in the Gambia was an immensely enlightening process and I'm grateful I got to have so many worthwhile experiences to learn from and look back on. The ups and the downs, everything.

Esther: Randomista

2010-05-18T16:55:00.000-07:00

Esther Duflo is kind of a big deal right now. At least among the Economics and Development crowd. Duflo is a French economics professor at MIT who is at the vanguard of a movement for better data in economic development research using randomized controlled trials (RCTs). Randomized controlled trials are an attempt to make real life into a laboratory with studies that include control and treatment (intervention), much as scientific medical research does. The idea is to get stronger evidence about what actually works in development. For donors, its about knowing whats going to get the most bang for their buck.

RCTs have been around for a number of years but the debate surrounding them has gotten really lively and actually quite interesting as of late. So much so that Ms. Duflo was invited to give a prestigious TEDtalk about randomization in economic research. While RCTs have pros and cons like pretty much everything, the idea of using better information when donating to social causes is important to everyone. At the very least people should be thinking about how aid groups are going to spend their money and on what type of intervention. The data is a lot stronger for some interventions than others. I suggest everyone take a look at Esther Duflo's Ted Talk here. And even if there's are points that are debatable, the average person should be enlightened by her message. She even admits that its not a magic bullet and that poverty is going to be around for a long time, but why not employ it if it provides us with useful data? If the content isn't quite up your alley, I still encourage you watch the video if for no other reason than the fact that she has a slightly humorous French accent.

If the idea of RCTs really resonates with you then I would recommend you pickup a book I just finished reading called WHAT WORKS IN DEVELOPMENT. It's a collection of essays edited by the popular economist WIlliam Easterly about the merits and drawbacks of using randomized controlled trials in development research. RCT detractors claim, among other things that there's an "external validity" problem, in other words, what appears to work in one place may or may not work elsewhere. Confounding the problem is the fact that once a certain type of intervention study is published once, there's less incentive for researchers to replicate it because its easier to simply trumpet the original findings than spending the time fundraising for and coordinating replications.

Still the debate has fascinated me as I've begun to delve deeper into the realm of more complex economic research. Who knows if these types of experiments are just a trend or not, but at least the conversation surrounding them is making people more aware about the importance of measuring results when it comes to poverty reduction efforts. Another blog hits the nail on the head with its title "Good intentions are not enough". Not every idea is a good one in development and not everything works. A flop of a concept called 1 million t-shirts is an excellent example.

The whole aid effectiveness discussion is about results and accountability. Because seeking better information about what works is something we can and should do. Better data can spur innovation in business and social enterprise. It can lead to initiatives that are more efficient at helping people to lead healthier lives and opening doors for future generations by convincing them to get an education. A great example of the freeing of data is aiddata.org.

I'm a newcomer to all these issues, but I'm enthralled and I'd like to see where this conversation goes. Now has anyone done a RCT in the Gambia?

Things: Part 1, What I'll Miss

2010-05-17T12:25:00.000-07:00

Two years is a long time to spend in a foreign land. Thus, it's inevitable that I would come to appreciate some aspects of the Gambia's unique culture so much that I will be seriously nostalgic about them wherever I go. Of course there are some peculiarities of the Gambia that I will be more than happy to part from. Here are the extensive lists.
Warning: this is a bit long.
I'm sentimental, what are you going to do about it?

Things I will miss:
Mangoes-They come in all shapes and sizes. Sweet, sticky deliciousness. Cheap and plentiful. Oh, the things you can do with a ripe mango!

Riding my bike-Two years of riding my gleaming Trek through the bush and the roughest roads you'll find in the Gambia has left the beautifully elegant vessel seriously battered. But the memories we've shared. A smile always crossed my face as I weaved my bike through cows, bush fire and puddles.

Attaya-The ubiquitous, highly potent Chinese green tea to which 99% of Gambians are addicted. Brewed in a tiny kettle and served in shot glasses, usually in a series of three rounds. Poured elegantly from kettle to glass with awe-inspiring precision My host father was a regular drinker and thus I received messengers holding steaming glasses morning and night. Attaya can be found all over West Africa and is marketed in a seemingly infinite number of packaging styles, each with it's own comforting artwork. Eventually, I became an attaya collector with more than 40 brands.

Cashews-Who knew cashews had a fruit? Well attached to the nut on the tree is in fact a fruit of rather impressive juiciness. There is no way to eat a cashew fruit without getting the juice all over your pants, creating a stain that never can be removed. The trees themselves exude a subtle, yet pleasant and tasty odor that can be discerned by a passerby. The roasted nuts are a delicacy, especially roasted individually fresh from the orchard. The fruits can also be exploited to produce an acoholic brew of various degrees of toxicity. Just limit your consumption. You don't want to go blind.

Domoda (Rice with Peanut Sauce)-By far the best food item in the Gambia. My stomach was a bottomless pit for the stuff when it was prepared well.

Being a part of a family with a different racial, ethnic, and religious background than my own-The idea that a family with such a vastly different background in so many respects would not only allow me to live with them, but to genuinely accept me as part of the family (to the extent that I had decision making influence as any son would) will forever remain a compelling concept to me. It proved to me the profound tolerance of the Gambian culture and of Islam as well. You can never escape your own cultural identity, but this experiment in being part of another society was successful.

Living in a circular thatch hut-It's still hard to believe that I just spent the last two years in a mud hut shaped like a circle with grass and sticks for a roof, but somehow that was my life. The architecture style is actually quite functional in that the mud/thatch hut is substantially cooler than cement and corrugated metal. This makes a HUGE difference when the temperature is 120 degrees F. Yes, the winds blew off part of my roof in a storm (actually twice) and yes, I shared the house with a number of rats and yes, flat edged furniture doesn't quite fit against rounded walls but my house was a work of art and it served it's purpose well. Shelter.

Ramadan--I'm still not quite ready to declare myself a Muslim, but I did enjoy the challenge and the shared suffering that is the fasting during the holy month of Ramadan. No food, no water from 5:30am – 7:30pm. When everyone around you is in the same weakened condition it make the arrival of the break-fast time extra special. I love that nervous countdown, waiting for the prayer call as everyone guards their preprepared cups of tea and loaves of bread, hearts beating fast in anticipation. Then the time comes and we gorge ourselves tea, beans, porridge, rice, one massive endless meal until passing out early from a food coma. Repeat.

Gambian fashion-Batik, chia, wax, gold teeth, jujus. And then there's the fulas.

The rhythm of life-Music is everywhere in the Gambia. Anything and everything is a drum. Dancing can go until 3 or 4 am. Children and adults of all ages know how to shake it, even if they tell you they can't.

The river-The Gambia is geographically defined by it's river. From fishing to transport, the river is a hub of activity. I lived a ways from the river myself, but traveling to any town of legitimate size involved a ride on a rusty vessel across the Mighty Gambia river. Some boats had sprung leaks, some crossings involved pulling the ferry by hand with a metal cable, but the smooth waters were always a sign of life.

Jumbo-Some people bemoan the amount of artificial MSG beef flavoring utilized in Gambian cooking. But you have to admit, whatever is in that sparkling brown cube, it's addictive as hell and cheap. It has been scientifically engineered in a lab to be chemically amazing.

Mandinka language- This is the language of the village I was posted in and the language I subsequently learned. Of the languages I've studied, Spanish, French, Swahili, the way I speak Mandinka (at this moment) is the most fluent I've ever been in a second language. I was rated superior (having achieved fluency) on my exit language test. That's saying something about immersion. The sentence structure is radically different from English and besides some recent borrowed words, it's a whole new vocabulary. But damn is it fun to speak. It ties my tongue in knots, but I love it.

Kankurangs and other creatures-Though the Mandinkas don't wear carved masks in the area in which I lived they still had an incredible masquerade phenomenon that appeared from time to dime during different dancing programs and ceremonies, especially the circumcision of boys. The Mandinka mask creature is the Kankurang, whose body is covered with various kinds of organic material. The creature usually carries around a machete or two, mostly to protect the circumcision children and beat anyone it doesn't like. Some of them are for show, just to dance and sing but others are more serious. When they come out for the circumcision they roam the streets and howl. Warning people to beware. Get too close and they can chase you or beat you. Sometimes a bit of money can assuage the threat, but even cash can't be counted on. The Kankurangs have even been known to kill. Other ethnic groups have their own versions of these creatures. Some of the more interesting ones come from the Jolas in the Casamance region of southern Senegal.

Treeplanting-One activity whose importance for rural areas I recognized early on was treeplanting. I was able to involve trees in many of my projects and once they matured they were heavily utilized. It was truly amazing seeing the process of the trees growing, some of them quite quickly. It's kind of exhilarating putting your full weight on a tree that you had planted only a year before. And it's fruit tastes so much better.

Ice-When it's blazing hot the first thing that comes to mind is that I need some overly sweet neon colored juice in a bag.

Dark dark nights-Being from a moderately large city in America (Madison, WI) is a disadvantage when nightfall comes. The stars are obscured. But in the village, every single clear night provides an incredible view. And when the moon is absent, even white skin can be invisible...

Julbrew and its brother export, the best (and only) beer in the Gambia-No where else would Julbrew enjoy such fanfare, but to the captive Peace Corps audience, Julbrew is King. It makes you realize when its hot outside, anything cold can taste amazing.

West African Music that West African people actually listen to- Look these up: P square, Titi, Mamadu Yalti Gole, Jalex, Jalibaa, Youssou N'Dour. Just a taste:

Nollywood-Nigeria's film industry is well entrenched in the Gambia and Nigerians themselves are plenty. The Nigerians have their own little subculture in every major town and their lives sometimes reflect the films of their homeland. Though Nollywood (get it Nigeria + Hollywood, just like Bollywood) get assailed for being cheap, predictable, violent, having bad acting and terrible sound, the films are actually pretty damn entertaining. In the stories no good deeds require vindication, there's love affairs aplenty and a whole cast can go 6 feet under by the end. Plus, people can get cursed! The posters advertising the films are rather amazing themselves, packed with emotion and attractive women. And hey, the acting isn't that bad. Nollywood is up and coming, look out. Buy a film at the African goods store near you.

Opportunity for development analysis-Being a Peace Corps Volunteer is a perfect opportunity to observe “development” in action. Whether efforts by the government to hold workshops and build infrastructure to NGO's and international agencies hawking their agendas, PCVs have a front row seat in watch how all these groups communicate and make deals with each other, sometimes bing part of the process. As an integrated member of the community and trained in community needs assessment strategies, Peace Corps volunteers have a pretty good idea about what would benefit their community. Sadly, when organizations step in to give aid, they often do more harm than good, causing in-fighting, dependency, opportunities for theft and wasting their money on projects communities neither want nor need. Of course you see when people get community development right as well, with participation, responsibility and sustainability. More than anything, PCVs learn just how challenging “development” can be.

Generosity-The Gambia has to be one of the most welcoming place in the world. Everyone always says that about everywhere, but these guys actually walk the walk. In the Gambia you can meet anyone on the street and end up eating lunch in their home, maybe even getting a place to sleep if you need it. Gambians never want to see a visitor go or to ever be full of their food, regardless of how much the visitor ate. In my compound in my village, my host family required me to pay no rent at all and was still willing to provide me with three meals every day for 2 years! I ended up giving them 50 kilo sacks of rice from time to time but it was by no means a requirement. The only thing I was told by my host father when I first arrived was that besides the fact that god brought me to his family, he would hope that if his son was in the same situation with my family in America, that I would do the same. I certainly would.

Insulting-Teasing other family names for eating too much or caring too much about cattle is a part of life and never gets old. I'll miss being able to tell someone, “Your family eats donkey meat!” and having it being insulting/hilarious at the same time.

Outdoor bathroom-I had a pit toilet at my house no big deal. The voyeuristic part comes when the grass fence surrounding your toilet starts to fall down. Then you realize people can probably see you. Then you stop caring. And bucket baths with sun heated water feel amazing.

Food bowl-Moving beyond the sanitary concerns, there's a great communal feel about eating from a shared food bowl. Some guy always takes control and starts tossing fish to everyone whether you want it or not. And then there's eating with your hand, which after 2 years I never mastered. There's just something about feeling the oil between your fingers and why wouldn't you want to lick it off?

Exclamatory sounds-Every culture makes it's own sounds in speech, to show surprise, disgust, approval and pain. Gambians have some funny ones. I definitely started to say most of them naturally by the end.
"Wooooyiiii"
"Lailailahlai"
"Waiumbaaaa"
"Ehhehehhh"
"Maawoooo"
"Jeeeee"

Greetings-Its a greeting culture in the Gambia and while it never stops, it nice to get that recognition.

Consuming very few resources-I can't really calculate how much water or power I used while in West Africa, but I can say that it has to be a tiny fraction of what someone in America uses. I felt empowered with the minuscule impact of my bucket baths and solar panel.

Growing my own food-In a farming community I would have felt bad not making a contribution when it's such a huge part of life for so many months of the year. Thus I farmed rice and peanuts on a small plot both years during my service as well as gardening and treeplating. I did everything from plowing the field, planting the seeds, weeding by hand, harvesting, even marketing the produce. It was an enlightening way to fully experience the agrarian lifestyle that rural farmers endure West Africa.

Reading by candlelight-With that entrancing orange glow I never never bought a bulb even though my solar panel could have handled it just fine.

The African Sun-I swear it's bigger here

Good friends and counterparts-What can I say they made the experience worthwhile.

All photos were taken by Zach Rosen, except for the one on the beach, some weird rasta guy took that one.

This Place is Cold.

2010-05-11T14:01:00.000-07:00

Well, after 4 drudgerous flights I finally made it back safely to the small hamlet of Madison, having evaded the volcanic ash like a pro. That's right, I'm back in the land of freezing rain, celebrity zealotry and technological obsession. I'm sad to have departed from my beloved Gambia, but life goes on, doesn't it? But oh there were some wild and enlightening times.

I now have a couple of weeks ahead of me in which I can finally get back to doing some regular posting. Hopefully I can pluck a few things from my mind in that generous allotment of time. At this point, after living in the Gambia for two years I think I may be permanently confused by American pop culture. I stopped recognizing the bootlegged films being sold in Serrekunda a long time ago. The fresh young faces on the covers of entertainment magazines are completely unfamiliar to me. Somehow, I don't feel bad though, I'm the curator of my own cultural phenomena. I have a stellar Nigerian film poster collection, a wardrobe full of West African wax prints and woven clothes, some classic newspaper headlines involving witchhunts and more CDs and DVDs from Gambia, Senegal, Mali, and Guinea than I can even count.

Pop culture may be beyond me, but now that I have the world at my fingertips 24/7 I've been catching up on all international affairs news that I've been distant from. My channels for news consumption were limited in the Gambia because of the whole living in an isolated village thing. That was fun, but now I'm enjoying reading the hundreds of posts I missed on Google reader and downloading gigs of podcasts on itunes. And I'm excited for the 15 books I ordered on Amazon.com. I feel energized and I think it's time for me to make some contributions to the worldwide collective interlocution.

Oh and this place is cold.

On Development Definitions

2010-03-10T10:20:00.001-08:00

One of the enduring constraints in the quest for development in Africa is so fundamental that it is often overlooked by institutions charged with assisting African communities to increase their incomes and raise their standard of living. In order to make development truly participatory, as many institutions aim to do, the basic question of how to create a more productive, sustainable income source is actually beyond where the a project's facilitators ought to begin. Instead, I think it's essential if we are to achieve our goals, to first ask what development means to the people themselves. What are they aiming for? Whether their development-laced dreams are realistic or not, those visions inform the manner in which people approach development activities. If they think that some of their aims will ultimately be achieved by a project, they may be more willing to put their own time and resources into seeing that the effort can succeed. Making the connection between a group's desires and their actions can be a key motivational factor. Projects that lack this component or projects whose real life impact is difficult to discern will lack the energy that people must be willing to bring if their goals are to be realized. Connecting the dots between local activities and the path to prosperity could be helpful in convincing people to reject thoughts of illegal migration to places they know little or nothing about in favor of joining hands with family and community to build the capacity and productivity of local enterprises and contributing to a skilled nation worthy of foreign investment.

Socially, the way Africans (in this case Gambians) think and act and the way donors or project implementing agencies think they should act may be, and probably are, different. These different perspectives must be reconciled with clear communication for a project to run smoothly. Both a community's and a development agency's definition of progress must be taken into account and since they are all stakeholders, the most accurate definition will lie somewhere in the middle.

Human rights is one area where defining terms all parties can accept is particularly difficult. Islam and traditional culture may want to defend their cherished practices, even if they directly conflict with the definition of human rights that the Western world is trying to promulgate.

The following examples illustrate the discord between the ideas Western human rights groups are trying to promote and traditional and/or religious thought.

(The traditionalist viewpoint mentioned here is an extreme that represents the conservative end of the human rights spectrum. It does not represent any particular group or region. The Muslim viewpoint is based on Islam as practiced by more conservative people in the Gambia.)

-Human rights groups say 1 wife
-Muslims say up to 4
-Traditionalists say as many as you like as long as you have the cash

-Human rights groups say let the woman choose her husband after she turns 18
-Traditionalists say arranged marriages for boys and girls when the parents are ready

-Human rights groups say let those being married be mature, consenting adults who are in love
-Traditionalists say as long as the girl's body has begun to show signs of maturity and she can perform domestic tasks then the union between families can be commenced

-Human rights groups say send all children to school, education is a human right, science and math are essential
-Traditionalists say let them provide domestic and farm labor, especially girls, parents need caretakers
-Muslims say send your children to the madrassa so they can learn about the Koran

-Human rights groups say give more power to the women, female empowerment has social and economic benefits, 50-50
-Muslims and traditionalists say a man must control and provide for his wife

-Human rights groups say family planning for population control and better care for individual children
-Traditionalists say children are a retirement plan and gifts of God, the more hands for the farm the better

Clearly, there is some slight discord between the parties regarding the meaning of human rights. While human rights groups are not always fair in their portrayal of abuses, I really do wonder sometimes what traditional and religious people (of all creeds) consider to be a person's innate rights.

Regardless, many people will agree that human rights are part of development and development partners need to harmonize their perceptions of success as they engage in development activities. Confusion relating to what constitutes development or progress can make or break a project. It is something that needs strong consideration before development agencies spend large sums of money on behalf of a population that may or may not share the same vision.

Blogs are so in right now.

2010-03-08T16:11:00.000-08:00

The Internet seems to have evolved significantly since I first forfeited my access to computer technology 2 years ago. There has been an explosion of content on the net, so much quality analysis and entertainment that it's quite difficult to keep up with it all. Yet somehow, thanks to my mobile phone and sporadic Internet access, I was able discover a number of impressive blogs and with the aid of Google Reader, a blog aggregator, I was able to follow the most important ones. They've been my feeding tube sustaining me on global affairs as I have other-worldly experiences in a West African village. I am so detached from American culture right now, What the hell is Avatar? Anyway here are the blogs that have caught my eye over the past year or so:

The Best

-Chris Blattman(A professor at Yale, solid development analysis with a touch of humor)
-Aid Watch(The blog led me to discover all the others. Professor William Easterly and friends explain why nearly nothing can satisfy them in development. Entertaining, prolific critical. Still one of the best.)
-Texas in Africa (Another professor and expert on Central Africa who knows quite well how to find faults with the media's coverage of Africa.)
-wronging rights (Interesting commentary on African events from an insiders perspective.)
-Owen Abroad (An economist working in Ethiopia commenting on how to make foreign aid more effective.)
-From Poverty to Power (One of Oxfam's chief economists.)
-FP Passport (The great bimonthly IR magazine's take on world events.)
-Daniel Drezner (An IR professor finds hints of IR everywhere.)
-Economic Geographies (An intelligent young woman analyzes finance in developing countries.)
-CGAP Technology (Analyzes how technology can be used as a tool to reduce poverty.)

Other worthwhile Blogs/Feeds

-Building Africa Today (AfDB)
-Loomnie
-African Arguments
-Nextbillion.net
-Brookings-Africa
-Council on Foreign Relations-Africa
-Africa's Moment
-Aid Thoughts
-Africa Can...End Poverty
-David Roodman's Microfinance Open Book
-PSD-The World Bank
-Build it Kenny and they will come
-Hand Relief International

See any themes in the content?

Taxonomy Of African Cliches

2010-02-02T16:43:00.000-08:00

I found another creative piece that satirizes the streotyping of Africa in the Western world. This is a "Taxonomy of African Cliches" from a blog I'm delighted to have discovered called Economic Geographies by Rachel Strohm. Which one are you?

Africanus stereotypicus: The most common type of cliche, the Africanus stereotypicus typicus feeds off of broad generalizations of African history. It is characterized by its Manichean coloring, varying between the black of moral depravity and ancient ethnic hatreds, and the snowy white of peaceful farmers who live “as nature intended.” Other subspecies include the Africanus stereotypicus puerilis, known for its grating proclamations that Africans are too childlike to make decisions about their own lives, and the Africanus stereotypicus type-419, which exhibits severe distrust of Africans in the belief that they are all corrupt, dishonest, and/or Nigerian scam artists.

Africanus journalisticus: Cliches of the the journalisticus group are most often found lurking in the mediocre Africa coverage of otherwise well-respected news publications. The Africanus journalisticus natura is frequently sighted in Madagascar, where international coverage of recent coup attempts uniformly begins with glowing descriptions of the country’s vibrant plant and animal life, in the belief that they must suck readers in with images of lush vegetation before seguing into actual African politics. The Africanus journalisticus spillover, on the other hand, is more often found in Congo and Somalia, where articles on the real suffering of millions of human beings justify the space they take up in Western newspapers either by A) referring to the current conflict as the spillover of a more interesting conflict (e.g. the Rwandese genocide), or B) explaining that the conflict is important because it could create terrorist threats that might spill over into the readers’ comfortable lives. A final subspecies, the Africanus journalisticus darfurensis, has seen a dramatic fall in its numbers after the population explosion of 2003-2004. However, the darfurensis still retains its unique ability to reduce the interwoven political, economic, environmental, and social roots of the genocide in Darfur into a simple morality tale of evil Arabs and innocent Africans.

Africanus occidentalis: This cliche is at home in a broad variety of habitats, be it among development practitioners or wide-eyed teenagers visiting Africa for the first time. It can be distinguished by its prominent belief that concerted Western action can solve all of Africa’s problems. The Africanus occidentalis studentia lives a peaceful life in the dorm rooms of university students, who often react to its presence by talking at length about the spiritual connection and cultural vitality that they experienced while visiting one country in a very large continent for two weeks last summer. (The tragedy of receiving a university education whilst children in Africa are dying is an alternate topic, although this should not be confused with actual discussions of Rawlsian justice.) The Africanus occidentalis interventionis, on the other hand, prefers to settle among career development workers who really should know better. These include advocates of poorly thought-out boycotts that don’t address the roots of the labor issue in question, World Bank officials who support oil pipelines in Chad, and bloggers who duly repeat that the West must pay more attention to Africa’s suffering, as though the Western gaze has always been the missing ingredient for African development.

Africanus impecunius: The Africanus impecunius is a specialized breed, whose natural habitats include NGO websites, blogs written by economics professors, and the Twitter streams of thousands of people with a passing interest in African poverty. Many subspecies in the impecunius group appear outwardly similar, but the practiced African Cliche-ist can easily spot their differences. For instance, the Africanus impecunius donatio is usually spotted at fundraisers in major Western cities, wooing potential donors with pictures of malnourished African children and practicing its “you have the power to save a life” call. The donatio’s primary competitor is the Africanus impecunius entrepreneurius. The entrepreneurius prefers a stealth attack, often sneaking up behind the donatio at conferences and beating it over the head with large sets of panel data on import substitution policies. (Meanwhile, the Africanus impecunius polisci avoids these territorial clashes in favor of migrating from think tank to think tank, seeking a credible way to actually implement all of its theoretical insights about the importance of good governance.)

This is one of those clever pieces that I wish I wrote.

Review of Dead Aid

2010-02-02T16:32:00.000-08:00

Here is my review of the book "Dead Aid" by Zambian economist Dambisa Moyo. The book is no longer hot off the press and I've been sitting on this review for a couple of months, but I still want to add my take to the fray.

Conventional wisdom often assumes that foreign aid to Africa is an unassailable necessity. Trumpeted by popstars and politicians alike, foreign aid is usually offered as the essential tool to lift the neediest out of poverty.

The 2008 presidential election brought aid to the table as a salient foreign policy issue. Activists lobbied for increased aid to Africa while the democratic and republican presidential candidates competed with each other to make the grandest promises. There was talk of doubling, even tripling the amount of aid given to Africa. Meanwhile, little or no debate occurred in the mainstream media about what type of aid should be provided or even how to ensure that the money had a positive impact on the lives of those it was intended to reach. All that mattered was the scale of the figures. The more aid, it seemed, the better.

Occasionally, a brave soul or two in the foreign policy world speaks up and questions the manner and scale with which aid is being distributed to Africa. It's usually not long however, before those dissenting voices are forgotten and it's back to business as usual; aid's place in international politics safely secured. The public conscience rests easily then, with the thought of simply throwing money in the general direction of the poor. Recently however, a new voice has emerged on the scene that has been hard to ignore. With the publication of her book Dead Aid, Dambisa Moyo, has reignited the foreign aid debate and this time it appears, the aid supporters are on the defensive. Ms. Moyo, an economist and trenchant critic of aid, lays a new round of criticisms on the aid establishment and behind her impressive resumé, which includes stints at the World Bank and the firm Goldman Sachs, she has a secret weapon, she's an African.

Dead Aid begins by taking a brief sojourn through the history of foreign aid to Africa, it moves from the early days of white elephant infrastructure projects to the ill-fated “structural adjustment” of economic policy, all the way up to the current focus on agricultural development, good governance and large aid packages heralded by celebrities in dark sunglasses. In the heart of the book, Moyo points out some of the many flaws of aid, followed by what she considers to be the more favorable options African governments have if they want to attract investment, create jobs and raise income levels. In Moyo's view, aid agencies delivering financial assistance to Africa have had plenty of time to produce auspicious results, yet have consistently failed to deliver. It's time, says Moyo, to close the aid tap.

Corruption, conflict, aid dependence and bad policy have prevented many African states from solidly establishing the legal institutions that are essential for the realization of economic growth and sustainable development, writes Moyo. Her prescription for economic development is a cocktail of microfinance, economic policy reform, superior aid evaluation, Eastern investment, remittances, utilization of mobile and information technology and bond issuing. All this, coupled with a reduction, not an increase in aid, is what Moyo predicts will brighten Africa's economic future. She even goes as far as proposing a scenario that would encourage African governments to be more self-sufficient. Her scenario is radical, yet simple. Suppose African governments are informed that in five years they will no longer receive any aid. Moyo argues fervently that those circumstances would necessarily bring about a climate of reform that would influence governments to budget more efficiently, root out corruption and alter their policies to be more accommodating to domestic and foreign business. Through this policy of tough love, Moyo claims, Africa just might be able to abandon its aid addiction.

Moyo's suggestions about how to achieve greater economic growth are a mixed bag, not everything seems to hit the mark. The allure of Asian investors is tricky. China, especially, is pouring barrels of dollars into raw natural resource extraction. Those types of deals sound good at first and often result in improved infrastructure, yet they can discourage the local production of value added products, retard policy reform and cause serious environmental harm. Corporate social responsibility by Asian firms often leaves something to be desired. China in particular has made it clear that it will invest wherever it wants in order to maintain its breakneck pace of growth, even in places with oppressive, undemocratic regimes. Asian investments without social responsibility, while attractive, seem then to undermine good governance and discourage local innovation. Policy changes aimed at making African economies more liberal and competitive are a good idea in theory, but unfavorable deals and tax breaks encouraged by foreign firms must be avoided because of their plundering neo-colonial nature. Moyo also touts remittances as a beneficial way access foreign capital. Unfortunately, she overly simplifies the issue of international migration, by looking at it through a strictly economic lens. The social implications of remittances, especially the negative ones, are quite apparent in The Gambia and can been observed in the form of dependent families and a lack of interest by the youth in developing their nation, among others. It's difficult to be convinced as well, that upon the removal of aid, essential development sectors like health and education would be able to maintain the range and quality of their services in every African country, even if they did away with corruption and inefficiency. The costs just seem too high. While shedding light on some salient development concepts, clearly Moyo has not concocted the perfect aid cure.

The book has its shortcomings for sure, yet the life that Moyo breathes into the aid debate is refreshing. The topic of aid effectiveness was one that desperately needed resuscitation. At a time when developed countries regularly gather at meetings like the G8 to make grandiose financial promises, more energy certainly must be focused on how to achieve results. Moyo is correct in asserting the importance of solid accountable institutions in the development process. The epidemic of corruption must be confronted seriously. Mobile technology could be used effectively as well, as an information gathering and communication tool that can bring market data and people together. Improvement of credit ratings by countries would indeed improve investor confidence. Finally, microfinance, as Moyo mentions, is another valuable tool for small businesses, but only if it is administered in a way that encourages loan takers to stick to business plans.

While many of the concepts are not new, the book is still worth a read to understand the scale of the aid establishment in its current form. Getting a sense of the sentiment behind the anti-aid movement presented by Moyo in Dead Aid will be valuable for those interested in development.

"How to Write About Africa" from Kwani?

2010-01-30T17:31:00.000-08:00

Here's another interesting piece that will challenge what you think you know about Africa. This is an entertaining little essay from an up and coming Kenyan literary publication called Kwani?. It's called “How to Write About Africa” and its worth publishing in full. Have fun with this one. Writing by BINYAVANGA WAINAINA.

Always use the word 'Africa' or 'Darkness' or 'Safari' in your title. Subtitles may include the words 'Zanzibar', 'Masai', 'Zulu', 'Zambezi', 'Congo', 'Nile', 'Big', 'Sky', 'Shadow', 'Drum', 'Sun' or 'Bygone'. Also useful are words such as 'Guerrillas', 'Timeless', 'Primordial' and 'Tribal'. Note that 'People' means Africans who are not black, while 'The People' means black Africans.

Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel Prize. An AK-47, prominent ribs, naked breasts: use these. If you must include an African, make sure you get one in Masai or Zulu or Dogon dress.

In your text, treat Africa as if it were one country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short people who eat primates. Don't get bogged down with precise descriptions. Africa is big: fifty-four countries, 900 million people who are too busy starving and dying and warring and emigrating to read your book. The continent is full of deserts, jungles, highlands, savannahs and many other things, but your reader doesn't care about all that, so keep your descriptions romantic and evocative and unparticular.

Make sure you show how Africans have music and rhythm deep in their souls, and eat things no other humans eat. Do not mention rice and beef and wheat; monkey-brain is an African's cuisine of choice, along with goat, snake, worms and grubs and all manner of game meat. Make sure you show that you are able to eat such food without flinching, and describe how you learn to enjoy it—because you care.

Taboo subjects: ordinary domestic scenes, love between Africans (unless a death is involved), references to African writers or intellectuals, mention of school-going children who are not suffering from yaws or Ebola fever or female genital mutilation.

Throughout the book, adopt a sotto voice, in conspiracy with the reader, and a sad I-expected-so-much tone. Establish early on that your liberalism is impeccable, and mention near the beginning how much you love Africa, how you fell in love with the place and can't live without her. Africa is the only continent you can love—take advantage of this. If you are a man, thrust yourself into her warm virgin forests. If you are a woman, treat Africa as a man who wears a bush jacket and disappears off into the sunset. Africa is to be pitied, worshipped or dominated. Whichever angle you take, be sure to leave the strong impression that without your intervention and your important book, Africa is doomed.

Your African characters may include naked warriors, loyal servants, diviners and seers, ancient wise men living in hermitic splendour. Or corrupt politicians, inept polygamous travel-guides, and prostitutes you have slept with. The Loyal Servant always behaves like a seven-year-old and needs a firm hand; he is scared of snakes, good with children, and always involving you in his complex domestic dramas. The Ancient Wise Man always comes from a noble tribe (not the money-grubbing tribes like the Gikuyu, the Igbo or the Shona). He has rheumy eyes and is close to the Earth. The Modern African is a fat man who steals and works in the visa office, refusing to give work permits to qualified Westerners who really care about Africa. He is an enemy of development, always using his government job to make it difficult for pragmatic and good-hearted expats to set up NGOs or Legal Conservation Areas. Or he is an Oxford-educated intellectual turned serial-killing politician in a Savile Row suit. He is a cannibal who likes Cristal champagne, and his mother is a rich witch-doctor who really runs the country.

Among your characters you must always include The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless. She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment. Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).

Bad Western characters may include children of Tory cabinet ministers, Afrikaners, employees of the World Bank. When talking about exploitation by foreigners mention the Chinese and Indian traders. Blame the West for Africa's situation. But do not be too specific.

Broad brushstrokes throughout are good. Avoid having the African characters laugh, or struggle to educate their kids, or just make do in mundane circumstances. Have them illuminate something about Europe or America in Africa. African characters should be colourful, exotic, larger than life—but empty inside, with no dialogue, no conflicts or resolutions in their stories, no depth or quirks to confuse the cause.

Describe, in detail, naked breasts (young, old, conservative, recently raped, big, small) or mutilated genitals, or enhanced genitals. Or any kind of genitals. And dead bodies. Or, better, naked dead bodies. And especially rotting naked dead bodies. Remember, any work you submit in which people look filthy and miserable will be referred to as the 'real Africa', and you want that on your dust jacket. Do not feel queasy about this: you are trying to help them to get aid from the West. The biggest taboo in writing about Africa is to describe or show dead or suffering white people.

Animals, on the other hand, must be treated as well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or grunt while tossing their manes proudly) and have names, ambitions and desires. They also have family values: see how lions teach their children? Elephants are caring, and are good feminists or dignified patriarchs. So are gorillas. Never, ever say anything negative about an elephant or a gorilla. Elephants may attack people's property, destroy their crops, and even kill them. Always take the side of the elephant. Big cats have public-school accents. Hyenas are fair game and have vaguely Middle Eastern accents. Any short Africans who live in the jungle or desert may be portrayed with good humour (unless they are in conflict with an elephant or chimpanzee or gorilla, in which case they are pure evil).

After celebrity activists and aid workers, conservationists are Africa's most important people. Do not offend them. You need them to invite you to their 30,000-acre game ranch or 'conservation area', and this is the only way you will get to interview the celebrity activist. Often a book cover with a heroic-looking conservationist on it works magic for sales. Anybody white, tanned and wearing khaki who once had a pet antelope or a farm is a conservationist, one who is preserving Africa's rich heritage. When interviewing him or her, do not ask how much funding they have; do not ask how much money they make off their game. Never ask how much they pay their employees.

Readers will be put off if you don't mention the light in Africa. And sunsets, the African sunset is a must. It is always big and red. There is always a big sky. Wide empty spaces and game are critical—Africa is the Land of Wide Empty Spaces. When writing about the plight of flora and fauna, make sure you mention that Africa is overpopulated. When your main character is in a desert or jungle living with indigenous peoples (anybody short) it is okay to mention that Africa has been severely depopulated by Aids and War (use caps).

You'll also need a nightclub called Tropicana, where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas and expats hang out.

Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care.

Chimamanda and the "Single Story"

2010-01-30T17:24:00.000-08:00

Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche. Not only is her name really fun to say quickly, but she's one of my favorite new writers that I've been following lately. She's a Nigerian author whose first two novels, Half of a Yellow Sun and Purple Hibiscus, I've devoured during my service here in the Gambia. In addition, I just blazed through her short story collection The Thing Around Your Neck. I love the way she really gets into the minds of her characters and shares moments of Nigeria's (troubling) history through their fictional lives. The short fiction collection is a really interesting read as an American living in West Africa because the issue of migration has become such a serious issue here. Nearly every young person dreams of traveling America to make money without really understanding the harsh realities that such a journey likely entails. The sentiment regarding the unassailable desire to travel to the promised land and the consequence for those who do is captured spectacularly in the stories. Adichie also is keen to challenge our stereotypes about Africa. In a recent TED talk, Adichie gave a lecture about the danger of the “single story” in which people know Africa only as a place of disease, conflict and corruption. Clearly those, generalizations are untrue of the continent, which just so happens to be a rather diverse place, ethnically, culturally, economically and climatically. Check the enlightening talk out here:

So I have a crush on her what are you going to do about it?

Nigeria alone is a place that suffers from the single story. The recent attempted airplane bombing on Christmas day by a Nigerian set off a whole round of criticism that Nigeria is a hotbed of extremists, scam artists, and corruption. I have a number of Nigerian friends that I talk politics with in the regional town of Basse and they were all seriously embarrassed by the events of Christmas day. They felt Nigeria had lost a lot of hard earned ground in the fight to improve its image internationally. Take one look at the music, film and telecommunications industries and you can easily see that Nigeria is much more. Nollywood for example, Nigeria's domestic film industry is the 3rd most productive in the world. These films, found all over west Africa and likely farther, entertain millions of people and create thousands of legitimate jobs. Now more than ever, when the world is becoming more connected, it's important to find out more about a place than just what you hear on TV. Never be satisfied with your perceptions about a place. No matter how much you know, cultures and places are dynamic and one's views can always be refined.

Back From the Bush

2010-01-30T17:21:00.000-08:00

I've emerged from the gloriously idyllic bush once again to post a few thoughts on development and share a few links that caught my eye. It's nice to feel the warmth of a keyboard on my fingertips again since I haven't browsed the Internet on computer in over 2 months.

I never cease to be impressed by the fact that I can (occasionally) check my email on my phone, though the network signal is so weak I have to hang the phone in a strategic place to get solid service. And of course the innovative engineers at Nokia decided to design a phone in which the rope for hanging it connects to the bottom of the phone (below the pound button). Apply the laws of gravity and then imagine me hanging my mobile from the grass roof of my hut and you may have realized that, yes, my mobile hangs upside down. But hey, I have to make due with what I've got. Internet in the village is a wonderful concept. Access to information is penetrating deep into areas that were nearly disconnected with the outside world. It's not quite free and it's benefits are not yet widely known or utilized locally, but these informational data services are going to be revolutionary.

Still there's nothing like a real computer.

In Repose, Reconciling Generations

2009-11-22T06:15:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the best way to have an enlightening conversation is to repose at the village bantaba. The bantaba is a a meeting place in the form of a covered slab of cement or bench made of timber. This cool, relaxing locale is frequented by the village elders, the keepers of tradition, the minds of whom have absorbed much from their surroundings.

As with every generational change, the elders witness the youth adopt new attitudes contrary to those of the ancestors. They glower at the youth from a distance, occasionally deriding them for their unfamiliar manners of dress and speech. Change is always difficult to swallow, yet in the globalized world of today, this process has happened extraordinarily fast. Thus, any talk of development or change at the bantaba is bound to be interesting, exhuming perspectives of bygone times. Here, with wizened frames, clutching weathered canes, the bygone generation blends tales of the past with interpretations of the present.

On a journey that brought me quite far down one of the Gambia's countless rocky roads I found myself in repose at such a bantaba. Soon I was exchanging words with a grandfatherly man who was unabashed in challenging my views. I commented that I was impressed that so many of the villages youth regularly attended school and many were even able to have conversations in English. The old man chortled, exposing his haphazard, jagged teeth before getting into his rant.

“Hah! School is the scourge of the community,” he said. “We've all sent our children to that infamous place, even me, but what have we gotten out of it?”

I nearly began to answer the question, but he drove right back into his tirade.

“We send our children to school, we labor to pay for the fees, but we see nothing. In fact, it's worse than nothing. It puts funny ideas in their heads and they no longer want to stay here. If they leave us here for the towns, when they visit us they are disgusted by their own former homes, repulsed by what they now see as unclean. They think us uncivilized and backward, forgetting this is where they themselves were raised. They reject our traditions, choose wives and husbands for themselves, and think only of their personal welfare and that of their children. We up-country farmers, with our simple and irrational ways are nearly forgotten as the “educated” ones are focused on developing themselves. They rarely send us any money to help us get by. Yes, the school has corrupted the minds of the youth.”

Meanwhile, I had been making mental notes of how to refute his arguments. I had been preparing myself to suggest to him all the benefits of education, to explain the idea of development in the world we live in today. But by the end of his speech I simply sighed deeply and smiled. I knew he had a point. The man seemed rather reasonable and I sensed that he was in fact aware of the positive aspects of education. He appeared to be presenting his argument through a traditional lens to study my reaction.

I nodded my head in agreement, acknowledging the wisdom of the nation's older generation.

“Yes, I see,” I finally replied. “Very interesting.” Clearly, he had implied with his story, development is complex. Even the issue of education must be handled with care and respect. Foreign concepts can easily conflict with local realities, thus finding a balance that recognizes the value of the traditional systems while promoting innovative ideas (wherever they come from) is the sagacious path to follow.

A real conversation, loosely translated, slightly embellished.

2nd PC-The Gambia Photo Contest

2009-11-22T00:32:00.000-08:00

In honor of the 2nd Annual Peace Corps The Gambia Photo Contest which took place this weekend I want to share a few of my own photographs because it's about time. For the second year in a row I organized a photo contest to inspire other volunteers to take more pictures of their villages and their experiences so all of us here can admire the splendor of The Gambia and remember just how entertaining life here can be.
Some of my images in no particular, chronological or even logical order:

My Mali Sojourn

2009-11-21T23:05:00.000-08:00

You may or may not know, but I traveled to Mali via Gambia and Senegal last month. It was a rather stellar trip that took my cohorts and I down the long road to Bamako and beyond to the red rock cliff villages of the Bandiagara Escarpment in the heart of Dogon country. Brenden, a fellow PCV in my distant Upper River Region of the Gambia, wrote a description of our adventure on his own blog a little hungry that is worth a read. The guy is not a bad writer, I'll say that. I shall provide some photographic accompaniment.

Click on Mali Journal.

This region of Mali was especially beautiful because of the manner in which the people lived with the rocky hills. For anyone who enjoys a solid hike, a visit to this area of the world will blow you away.

Death and Grasses

2009-09-27T19:17:00.000-07:00

The day I cleared my farm -sweeping grass and sticks into piles which I then set ablaze- became the day I never wanted to see. It doesn't matter where I was when I heard the wailing, it doesn't matter where any of us were, we all came running. As I ran across fields of freshly plowed earth I hoped it was a house fire, a case of damage goods, an opportunity to quell an inferno with the community, then join hands together to rebuild. A fire wouldn't be so bad I thought, please let it be I fire, but I feared worse, I was running towards a well. Soon, I, and everyone, arrived chests heaving at the perilous well. There was no fire to be seen and those already on the scene were peering down the abysmal cement-lined cavern, some of them frantically trying to prepare a pulley. Someone has fallen.

Before long, the whole village materialized, women at a distance wailing and men surrounding the well, watching helplessly. The average heartbeat of the village must have been the highest in the world. An intrepid young man offered to descend to retrieve the one who had fallen. I wanted to believe someone could survive the drop, could salvage some kind of life, yet from below we heard nothing. The young man finally went down with an improvised rope harness, his mission to secure another rope to the incomprehensible form at the bottom.. A team of men slowly lowered him in to the depths of the well. I tried to imagine what it must have felt like to be inside, the overwhelming heat and the obscured reflection of the clear blue sky on the water below. Before long his voice echoed information skyward and the team was pulling him up. He placed his feet on solid ground and hastily stripped off the ropes. He sighed deeply and walked away from the well, having seen enough.

Our optimism was diminished now, little doubt lingered about the fate of the fallen one. The ropes were pulled once more and the fallen one began to rise. It was then that I realized I didn't know who fell, whether man, woman, or child. I hoped it wasn't someone from my host family of someone I knew well. I hoped it wasn't a person at all, but a beast instead, for there was nobody I could think of whose passing wouldn't bring suffering. The pulling of the rope, the shrill screech of the pulley seemed to go on for far too long, a testament to the depth of our water table. When the fallen one was too emerge however, we collectively felt it, and instinctively began to move towards the well. A donkey cart was secured as transport and a cloth was provided as cover.

Here we go, I thought.

The sun shone hot and bright on the illuminated body as the rope was removed and the cloth quickly draped over its face. Through the crowd I took a glance at what we all simultaneously wanted and did not want to see. A small crumpled frame, tattered jeans, a little boy. There was relief in seeing, our imaginations could now rest and we could begin to fully accept the outcome. The masses of people began to walk slowly down the road to the boy's compound, everyone looking forward and towards the ground. It wasn't far to the compound and we all entered solemnly. ***(See the note at the bottom.) Every sitting place was taken and those of us behind were forced to stand. In the compound the wailing of the women refused to abate. The arrival of the boy's body ignited a whole new round of emotional cries. The cries swirled through the air like the rapid winds of a cyclone. A few women collapsed on the ground and were taken inside.

Leaning against a compound wall I glanced from face to face. People seemed unabashed in expressing their sadness, even a few men had the distinct trail of tears shining over their dark skin. Every time I met the eyes of someone crying I too came close to tears. They never came, though sweat dripped down my forehead past my eyes and I imagined the droplets as tears. I kept my composure breathing through clenched teeth and with rumbling tremors in my stomach. Respected men went into the room where the boy was taken, I presume to inspect the body. I was glad I hadn't gotten a better look at the boy when they raised him from the well, a fall like that must be pretty brutal.

I then noticed a chicken with its throat cut lying lifeless in the middle of the compound. I pondered its significance and I wondered why nobody else seemed to be paying any attention. When the group of men charged with inspecting appeared again, it seemed like the right time to depart. I ambled home, all the while finding it difficult to summon my voice, even for greeting. As I walked, I thought of my farm and how most of the grass raked and burned was dry and old, yet some of it was green and fresh. In the end though, it all came to ash and was returned to the soil.
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*** Author's note - At this point I was called as the only skilled photographer in the village with a camera to take pictures of the body for the police. I reluctantly agreed and walked back to the boy's compound. I found the police officer at the compound entrance and suggested that he borrow my camera to get the needed shots. He replied simply, "You're the professional." Inside the compound many people had remained and were praying together. I kept a straight face as I walked past them, camera hanging off my shoulder, pausing to remove my shoes as I crossed over a prayer mat. I could tell all eyes were on me. I summoned all my poise, took the required shots and left. One from the front. One from the back. One from the side. I was curious and a little nervous to see him. Though I'd finally heard the boy's name by now, I hadn't recognized him upon the photographic unveiling. He had a gash, long and deep, across his swollen face. His unfamiliar features made it easier to take his pictures without flashbacks of his life running though my head. I'm sure however, I'll eventually figure out where I know him and then he can do his running.

Quotes to consider.

2009-09-27T18:55:00.000-07:00

I recently finished reading an enlightening book about a young woman living in Ghana, Burkina Faso and Togo during the 1960's and 1970's called Hustling is Not Stealing. The book is a near direct transcription of stories told by the girl to an American sociologist. The American, John Chernoff, prefaces the unique and entertaining stories with by explaining rather accurately how Westerners perceive Africans and also places the life and lifestyle of the girl into context. The stories themselves are worth a browse for being told in a West African English very similar to Gambian English and because the protagonist, Hawa, is a rather talented raconteur. However, the quotes I want to present for consideration are from Mr. Chernoff's introduction. They convey a profound insight rare of commentary relating to Africa and are worth a solid pondering.

"Sometimes knowledge is not what one knows or can say; rather it is what one cannot say and can no longer think." -page 8

"For many people, wealth and power energize a persuasive legitimacy, but wealth and power do not energize what they do not reach." -page 22

In Defense of Poor Grades

2009-09-26T16:15:00.000-07:00

I was commenting on the less than amazing quality of education and low standards as is so easy to do, when I came to a realization. I had been criticizing students who aim for a passing grade in a system where 40/100 and above is a pass. My original comment was to say that most of the time in the American grading system, a 60/100 is a pass, but why would one want to be satisfied with a mere pass anyway? Why not shoot for an "A" or a "B"? As I made the statement I noticed I was sitting near an ethnic Fula girl who had not completed school. She had either never attended or had performed poorly and dropped out early. But I knew the girl and I understood she was a hard worker and that she was generally interested in learning. That was one of the main reasons she was involved in a youth training/loan program. To expand her knowledge and increase her opportunity in achieving financial independence.

All of a sudden it hit me as I pictured this girl in school. She wouldn't have failed to achieve high scores because of lack of will power, on the contrary, she very much appreciates the value of education. If she had received poor results, it would have been because of a lack of encouragement and assistance. Coming from a background with illiterate parents in a largely illiterate village the older generation and some of her young peers may not be fully aware of the benefits of school and thus are unwilling or unable to support the current generation of students.

In that social situation achieving a 40/100 could be considered a moderate success and such a student should be highly praised considering the conditions they're up against. Ideally however, people should start waking up and realizing the benefits that formal education can bring. The reality is that not every parent can help students with their school work, yet every parent should have the prescience and motivation to help their children find assistance, even if they have to seek it outside of their compound or home village. Later on I hope the parents will be able to advise their own kids. Lets hope were moving closer to that vision.

Formal education and literacy are essential to development. Period.

A Developed Rural Africa

2009-09-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

Time has passed with little word from me on this website lately, but that's what happens when you try to maintain a blog from rural West Africa. It's hard enough to make a local call from village to village in the rainy season if you're not on top of a water tower, let alone post content to the internet. However, just because my fingers have been absent from a keyboard for quite awhile doesn't mean my pen (or should I say Black Warrior pencil if you know me well) has been packed away. I'm now in the greater Banjul area for a couple of days and so I decided to share some thoughts I'd saved up. As a "development worker" I constantly analyze the conditions I find myself in. I've become obsessed with finding practical ways to improve the lives of the community members that have welcomed me in. The contributions I make are small in the grand scheme of things (the crude measurements of economic development/growth), though I like to think if embraced, the changes I've catalyzed together with my Gambian counterparts have been steps in the right direction. There are so many issues that cross my mind, I'm bombarded by them every day. I don't always have the time or energy to flesh out every worthy subject, but I have been able to scribble a few into the pages of my notebook. The following series of posts are entries from my current notebook,a black, lined Moleskine, the third volume since my arrival. These topics are very far from exhausting the material that makes for solid analysis and debate surrounding development in rural Gambia, yet I offer them as a sample of the concepts, visions, questions, ideas and critiques that run through my head.

A Developed Rural Africa
Written on the highway from Gambia to Dakar, Senegal March, 2009

What does African Development ideally look like outside of the urban centers?
The vast majority of rural Africans are engaged in farming. Thus a more developed rural Africa entails improvements in the agriculture sector. Under favorable conditions I imagine a highly productive agricultural sector that efficiently and effectively uses the land and resources available to produce the largest gains.

African communities have always been able to successfully utilize the various plants in their respective environments. It's now time to use these biological resources with more control to achieve higher levels of production while ensuring that environmental resources are sustainable. Ideally, gains from agriculture would produce surplus agricultural wealth that could be used to invest in other trades or create new industries. A significant surplus would allow farmers to readily send their children to schools as well as to improve household health and nutrition. High yields and profits would come from the harmonious use of modern machinery and technical knowledge tailored to the particular environment individuals and communities find themselves in and an understanding of what is demanded by the market at what prices. Solid infrastructure would relay market and production information as well as physically facilitating the voyage of crops to market.

Qualified and skilled workers are essential if agricultural gains are to be made. This means offering high quality educational services and the constructive use of those services by families. You can't get rich by sitting around. The wealthier societies on this planet have high levels of formal education. It's not a coincidence. All children must go to school. People like to say that education is a human right. Well, then to not send your child to school and to not support them financially and with motivation if you have the means is to deny the human rights of your child. Families friends and neighbors must support each other in area of education as they always have in other ways. Communities themselves must act as coherent units to demand quality services from the teachers and the systems as a whole. Education salaries should be competitive with other jobs so as to attract solid talent. Countries that are relatively poor in natural resources have to invest heavily in their human resources to develop social capital. A literate society will attract investors and create jobs in the knowledge sector. Much of this requires a values shift, a reevaluation of priorities that may reorganize the way people spend their time and limit overindulgence in luxury items.

Development requires a certain consciousness of the challenges that lie ahead and a willingness to sacrifice to achieve one's goals. Overall, standards must be raised. Ignorance is becoming a poor excuse for inaction with the proliferation of mobile and information technology. People must join others in claiming math and science as their own, a valuable creation of the human race for the advancement of technology that eases our labor. Science and math are not menacing tools designed by one particular group to enslave the world, they are ever-advancing tools for all.

Development in not manifested in illegal migration that finances a mammoth house for one's mother and father. It's about using exiting knowledge and resources to create sustainable livelihoods. The African environment is not homogeneous and certainly it is not the same as that found in Europe or America. Africans should take a step back and find examples of groups and individuals operating successfully in a similar climate to their own, then seek to replicate those successes. Those positive role models hold the key as to how to manage one's resources in an innovative and more prosperous manner.

Ultimately the product of a "developed" rural Africa will not look the same as developed areas elsewhere in the world and it shouldn't because Africans have their own diverse cultures. The image of America as the ideal Africa is just a mirage and unrealistic for social and environmental reasons. The true ideals of development lie in the opportunity to rise from the bottom to the top with hard work, determination and a little luck. Development is not just something that sounds like a nice idea to people as they hope someone will deal with their problems and help them to realize their desires. Development is a conscious action, a change in lifestyle, a search in which all avenues are tested in the journey to the higher standards of living that people want. What people want is defined by themselves, but in the globalized world of today, those wants are often influenced by those other people we happen to share our planet with. Its not only the reality that we're getting more and more connected, but it's also simply good to know and understand each other, as shared experiences strengthen cooperation and build peace.

A developed rural Africa is a peaceful place in which the people are healthy and live with comfort and pride.

Afgan women protest for their rights

2009-04-24T16:45:00.000-07:00

The story of women protesting in Afganistan a week or so ago is a bit old now but it's still worth mentioning. I brought up in my recent post about honor killings that within cultures and regions in which abuse of human rights is common (particularly fundamentalist Islamic communities), especially against women, there is a serious need for some lifestyle reflection that will ideally lead to respectful values shifts. It's no longer tolerable in the 21st century to rape and beat women (who knows why it ever was), and disturbingly to integrate those rather obvious injustices into a legel system. Because, we as the human race, have not quite moved beyond those regretable acts, action must be taken to demonstrate that people wont just sit down and accept systems that are abusive and cause immense suffering. In Martin Luthor King's famous "Letter from a Britmingham Jail", he speaks out against what he calls unjust laws and prescribes civil disobedience as the wakeup call for society to realize its errors and hopefully right them in the future. In a society where women are normally quite subservient to men, when a group of 300 women march through the streets of the capital and reject what they believe is an unjust law, that's a very powerful act.

The story goes, that a law was passed recently by Afganistan's two houses of parliament and even signed by President Hamid Karzai, that fobids women of the Shiite Islamic sect from rejecting the sexual advances of their husbands. Basically the law made legal spousal-rape. Second and third provisions of the law called for Shiite women to be prohibited from leaving their own home without the permission of a male relative and forceed the women to dress up any time their husband so requested. Seems worth protesting to me.

So this group of women braved a counter-protest crowd, reportedly more than three times the size of their own group, to criticize the law and repudiate its grounding in the Islamic scriptures. The women took a solid analytical look at the human rights aspect and the religious aspect of the law and found it to be based on pure fantasy. In reponse, they were met by a violent mob that threw stones and shouted "Whores!" at them. Not exactly a scholarly response. Simply exclaiming "Allah Akbar" is not a legitimate argument in the present time when the issue of human rights is on the table. The counter-protest was based purely on emotion, it made little or no attempt that I could discern to refute the fact that this new law had no basis in Islam. There should be more to the Koran than simply memorizing it, and reciting it. It must be interpreted as a guide to living a kind and honest life. The calls must be heeded that suggest a modern reading of the Koran that encourage spiritual living and allow for equality and prosperity. Put your fist in the air. The more these issues are covered by the media the more they must be confronted by the offending societies and the greater the pressure will be to reform. These few hundred women have performed a courgaeous act and hopefully their brave example will be followed, emulated, until values shift and freedom is realized.

I first came across the protest story on a new political photoblog I discovered called BAGnewsNotes. The site is a prolific commentary on American and global political affairs focused on the images that accompany them. Check it out, I mean, what could be better than politics and photography together? Its quite a happy family.

This New York Times link should be checked out too, it has a great video from the protest. Afgan Women Protest New Law on Home Life

The Lost Generation?

2009-04-24T16:36:00.000-07:00

Once of those clever viral little videos that just has to be seen. It's not about the visuals this time, its about the message. Courtesy of AARP. Oh how the elders are wise. Occasionally.

Geogement Day or Judgement Day

2009-04-15T17:02:00.001-07:00

Here's a little short story I wrote a few months back. It's mostly true.

I'm sitting outside in the morning sun, feeling the faint warmth of those golden rays, waiting patiently for a bus to town. But this ain't simply catching a bus like it is in the states. We're not into schedules or any of that here. How would we get our excitement if we knew the exact moment the bus was set to arrive? The excitement comes from not knowing whether or not you're going to get where you're going or what manner of vessel will escort you to that destination, wherever it may be.

So I wait, with the other travelers from my village, by the red dirt road on a bench that's threatening to collapse at any moment. After a little while a man on a bicycle rides by. I ask him if the bus, locally known as a gele gele, will pass today at all. He seems to think that it will. But is the man credible? What foundation is his word built upon? We raise our hopes up simply based on the fact that the man, now out of view, just so happened to be coming from the same direction that our small crowd expects the desired vehicle to emerge as the vehicles usually do, each one careening over the red Mars gravel until it slows, probably a little too quickly, to a halt near the roadside bench.

But it's not coming and it makes one wonder -I tend to use “one” when I want to think that the way I think is at least somewhat similar to the way other other people think, though I could be way off- if it will ever come, if it's even there, where is it? Is the driver on his way? Did he pass before I arrived? Is he sleeping? Still nothing. I'm antsy so I ascend a log and try some jumping tricks for the crowd. I was always a fan of freestyle walking as a kid. The show wows most of the onlookers with incredible aerial maneuvers, though a couple still appear skeptical of my skill and seem to suggest with their eyes that I could easily fall. I laugh and continue carelessly until I do in fact fall and scrape the shit out of my leg. But I play it off trying to avoid the “I told you so” lectures. I feign tiredness and sit back on the bench, attempting not to limp as I go. When nobody is looking I take a quick glance at my leg and sure enough, the injured area is streaked with red scratches and bleeding. I ignore the wound.

Humming tunes in our heads now to pass the time we still cling our foolish hope that the transport will come. Taunted and teased by churning motors in the distance we a re repeatedly disappointed by the sight of motorbikes coming our way. Motorbikes that often refuse to take along a single passenger let alone a ragtag bunch of four adults and one child with the absurd amount of luggage we are employing for our respective journeys. Motorbike after motorbike, creaky bicycle after creaky bicycle, old man after old man on foot leave us in their dust. It looks endlessly hopeless until I catch a glint of sun out of the corner of my eye and I rejoice as the gele gele comes roaring towards us.

This is it. Our hands grip our bags a little bit tighter and we start to feel at ease. But the vehicle refuses to slow on its approach. In fact, it doesn't appear to have the intention of stopping at all. As the gele gele, first appearing as a speck in the distance, a beacon of salvation, transforms into a raging beast before us, I realize how full it looks. Full to the brim. Actually more than full to the brim. Overflowing with people and their belongings, belongings stacked five feet high on top. There's even a few people taking each bump extra hard as they hang on to the precariously tethered goods on the roof. Needless to say the feeling of ease was premature. The vehicle zooms past, unconcerned with trauma it has just created, the hearts it has just shattered and steamrolled. It basks in its own self-importance as the only regular commercial passenger vehicle that passes our isolated village.

Disheartened and broken we all begin the walk home. We walk slower than normal or baggage just a little bit heavier with the weight of our resentment and humiliation. Solemnly we go on the sandy path. In the middle of mourning our somehow not entirely unexpected misfortune there is shouting about a seemingly supernatural sighting. A second gele gele is miraculously making its way down the road. Without hesitation I take off back towards the roadside stop. Some of my faithful companions are able to make the turnaround too. Looking out towards the vehicle to discern my chances I'm not encouraged. There are already a good six or seven people on top thus indicating the car has reached capacity. Regardless, it slows on its approach to check out the scene. Deciding he is not interested in adding to his already overloaded cargo, the driver continues past. My arms flail wildly in protest and in dream-like slow-motion the driver, second guessing himself and/or having heard my call, stops the car about 50 meters up the road. Together with one of the guys I'd been waiting with all morning, I run to catch up with the gele gele, still unsure if we'll get the ride. The guy I'm running with slows down and appears to be struggling under the wait of his bags. The driver casts us an anxious look like he's not going to wait much longer. I extend arm and offer to take the heaviest bag from my fellow runner and without reply he transfers it to my grip, his burden eased. We both stumble on, the contents of our luggage rattling with each stride. We make it, barely it seems. When we arrive the driver lets us in, but he makes it clear he in not happy and has done us an incredible favor. We both know he wants the extra 30 dalasi ($1.20). No matter now, I climb inside as someone gives up their spot and scrambles up the poorly welded ladder to the roof of the vehicle. My village friend goes up as well. In a cloud of illuminated red dust, we're off. Not fully tamed, the gele gele sputters and whines with each revolution of its wheels, but trudges onward.

Living in isolation as we do at the ends of the Earth, or at least at the furthest reaches of our beloved narrow country The Gambia, we do not expect to encounter any paved roads. There are none in these parts, in the most distant of provinces. Children have never seen pavement, they don't know what it is. Upon encountering it for the first time they probably think it's some impossible freak geological phenomenon that just happen to run with the occasional painted line down the middle of certain streets. Be we're used to no pavement, no flatness (that's for you Thomas Friedman), an absence of lanes and an overabundance of rocks jutting out chaotically. Actually we take pride in our road, it means the worst for us is the norm. It proves how strong we are.

An earthquake on wheels we drive. As I look out the lacerated windows towards the now harvested fields my eyes encounter seemingly misplaced pairs of legs, all hanging bodiless from the roof. They are slightly unsettling in their swaying, untrustworthy. Who knows what those people are doing up there. They could be eating ice cream for all I know. Looking past the legs to the fields I find them barren and dry, having been picked clean by herds of cattle and other ruminants. What grass remains is a combustible auburn brown, scatted across the tired soil. One, two villages down, past the crumbling health center with the staff who work themselves sick, on to the cluster of four villages with the friendly, yet deranged man who fancies himself a traffic controller with his reflective neon vest and whistle. He sends us by with grand gesturing. We are the only vehicle on the road.

Closer now. Only six kilometers to or so until we reach the river side, the finish line. We are packed uncomfortably close and I can no longer feel my foot, but we're a team and we're unstoppable in our crudely welded leviathan. Then the unthinkable occurs with a phhhhhheeeeww -actually the highly predicable occurs based on the massive amount of stress the tires must have been experiencing- and we roll to a stop. We descend to the Earth, mortals again by this untimely flat tire. A professional at changing tires the driver gets right to work. Professionals at watching tires being changed we pace around in the dust and make mental judgments of the other passengers.

She's kind of cute, but wow, only one attractive woman in the whole car. I wonder how many kids she has? Does her husband treat her well? Is he even around? Maybe he's abroad. Will he ever come back? Probably not for a few years. Bastard.

Shouldn't that girl be in school? Maybe that's where she's going. But it's Saturday. Could be Islamic school, but no uniform? I hope she's a serious student. I hope she has no life outside of school like American students. I hope she goes to school 364 days a year and is taking a well deserved holiday only today. Enjoy the vacation my friend.

Why do all men over 40 have that same hat with the Charlie Brown zigzag?

Heads nod in satisfaction. Relief is demonstrated with sighs. The signal is give to board and the dust begins to twirl behind us again. Before any of my limbs even have a chance to go numb we are somehow idling again, then the engine is cut. We've been expelled from the heavens once more, not 200 meters from our previous diversion. People are worried now. Will this flotsam ever make it to the river? It's walkable, but the distance seems just a little too far. Anyway, the driver owes us something; we're his responsibility. The shady driver disappears around the side of the vehicle apparently looking for tools. The passengers who boarded the gele gele first are complaining about us latecomers now. We should never have been picked up. We're scum and should blow away with the wind, but not in the direction of the river because then we might get there first. At this point a truck rolls up and actually stops. It's a full passenger vehicle with Senegal plates and a gigantic speaker mounted on the back. After checking out the situation they climb back in and take off, helping the best way they know how by blasting prayers through their speakers.

Motorbikes berate us going by, never stopping. With nothing else to do I decide to take a closer look at our vessel. Its front license plate is upside and there are no actual tail lights, just paintings of tail lights where the tail lights should be. As I continue to get acquainted with the car I discover that it has a name. It's called “Geogement Day”, a somewhat comical corruption of Judgment Day I assume. It's as if riding in this vehicle is some kind of test, its blowouts inevitable and purposeful as if it was designed to observe our reactions to its perils in order to discern the character of our souls. “What's done is done,” the car seems to say, “I have seen what I wanted to see.” I take a deep breath and ponder my fate and the fate of my fellow travelers.

I think our driver must really be sweating now, but he soon emerges tired, yet vigilant, carrying a second spare that must have been buried somewhere. I'm not sure what kind of sorcery the driver used to produce that second spare. Maybe it was the prayers or maybe it was a simple understanding of how much of heap his car was, but either way, I'm impressed. Before long the wheel is on and we're moving once more, ever so slowly now to prevent a third blowout.

The last bit of the journey passes uneventfully, we only make one small stop to let all the roof-dwellers down so we won't get busted as we pass the police check point just before the river. At the river we all unload , pay our fares and go our separate ways, reflecting on this small odyssey that we will carry with us for the rest of our lives. This judgment day.

New Honor for the 21st Century

2009-04-15T09:32:00.000-07:00

I have read from a few sources recently about a phenomenon called "honor killings" that occurs throughout the world to varying degrees in the name of traditional values often influenced by Islam and upholding family honor. The victims are usually women or girls, though sometimes men, who have committed acts believed to have stained the image of their family. In reality, the accused are behaving in ways that are totally in line with modern free society values. They have boyfriends, they chat online using Facebook, they refuse to veil their faces, they reject an arranged marriage, or object to abuse by their husbands. In very extreme cases (though all honor killings are pretty extreme) women pay with their life for being raped, a traumatic, non-consensual act in which they had no choice. I guess the mentality is for the killers that if the goods are damaged the must be discarded. The only problem is we're talking about people's lives. In the meantime, other simple non-violent conflict resolution strategies are forgone in favor of force. The cases that get the most attention are obviously the killings, but it makes me think about all the people who have been abused in the name of honor, but did not lose their lives. Instead they have to live with the shame (and maybe some scars) as well as face their family and community in an environment of disapproval.

These are examples of how closed minded belief systems intertwined with traditional values come into serious conflict with the modern globalized world. It is almost as if those responsible for the honor killings think they are living in another time, a time before the well established norms of human rights. Though some parts of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights may be disputed even now, murder seems to be one act most people can agree violates human right. Leaders of the communities in which these killings are taking place need to clearly take a stand against these horrible acts of violence by denouncing them as dishonorable. I wonder how many people really find them honorable in the first place? Anyway, the legal codes throughout the world need to be, reassessed to ensure that people can live responsibly while respecting other people, their culture and the cultures around them. It is really quite disturbing to see how the laws in some of the countries where honor killings occur most often (particularly Pakistan and Jordan) are actually structured in such a way so that punishing the killers is quite difficult or sentences are reduced compared to other violent crimes. Its seems like these governments would actually rather ignore the killings than take any action. An interesting twist is that through new technologies like mobile phones that can record video, some of these horrific killings are finally being shown to national and international audiences. Hopefully that exposure will bring pressure to reform. The honor codes of the world need urgently to be updated to maintain core values that respect human rights and emphasize acts that bring honor to the family name.

Along those lines, here is list (in no particular order) of some other ways to maintain or gain honor. This is a collection of honorable achievements that I think most people can agree on. Let these acts replace "honor killings" in the 21st century as the concepts that are associated with honor. Keep in mind these are targets to shoot for. Those that fail to reach the targets are not dishonorable, they just have room for improvement. That being said almost everyone should be able to achieve at least a couple of the honors regardless of financial or social constraints, but some are far more difficult.

-Great skill in a craft or trade
-Self sacrifice for others
-A cohesive family unit
-A loving relationship
-Performing heroic acts
-Sustainable use of environmental resources
-Great athletic achievement
-Creation of an innovative tool or concept
-Literate children
-Well-nourished children
-Completion of Secondary education and beyond
-Publication of art or literature
-Expertise in an academic area
-Ability to sexually satisfy your significant other

The list, by the way, is not exhausted here. I'm sure you have a few more ideas.

Here is a video CNN story about an honor killing that occurred in London a few years ago and the debate surrounding the issue.

Another CNN video featuring disturbing footage captured using new communication technology.

I am...

2009-04-15T08:34:00.000-07:00

I am a splattered canvas, a national ambassador, a role model, an open mind, a simple example, a global educator, a capacity builder, a perpetual learner, a resource sharer, a brother, a son, a friend, a lover, a truth seeker, a zeitgeist documenter, a guerrilla journalist, an ideas generater, a photographic storyteller, an experience sharer, a growth seeker, a listener, a correspondent, a trust builder, a compliment giver, a change inspirer, a taste broadener, a community organizer, an image maker, an environmental steward, an enjoyment seeker, a foolish dancer, a knowledge instiller, a new perspective bringer, a team builder, a cultural exchanger, an keen observer, a keeper of secrets, a stereotype challenger, a memory treasurer, a philosopher in training.

What are you?

Take Action Against Malaria

2009-04-08T16:44:00.000-07:00

Quite a long time without updates. That's the nature of affairs out in the bush. But I'm back and I have a few things on my mind. The first is Malaria, others to follow. I have decided to get involved in a campaign to purchase and distribute insecticide-treated mosquito nets in my region of The Gambia.

I see the effects of Malaria in my community all the time. Mosquitos (the transmitters of Malaria) are present in my community throughout most of the year. People often come to me with malaria-esque symptoms complaining of fatigue and pain all over their body. Everyone in my village knows of at least a few people who have lost loved ones to the illness.

Every year Malaria infects hundreds of millions of people worldwide. In sub-saharan Africa alone the loss in productivity due to illness and death is said to be more than $10 billion. Malaria is a preventable illness. One of the ways proven to be most effective in preventing malarial infection is to sleep under a treated bednet. That's why I am excited to get involved with this project. If fewer people contract malaria because they were protected by mosquito nets, then the chances of people contracting malaria in the future will be reduced because fewer people will have the malarial parasites that are passed on by the mosquitoes. It just makes sense for people to use the nets.

The Against Malaria Foundation, which I am contributing to, spends 100% of it's donations on long lasting insecticide-treated bednets. Peace Corps Volunteers in The Gambia are part of an effort to raise $40,000 for nets to be distributed in The Gambia. A generous donor has offered to match every dollar for a potential total of $80,000 going towards nets. At about $5 per net, the idea is to ship a container of 16,000 nets to The Gambia and distribute them in conjunction with a community sensitization campaign about the importance of the nets, how to use them and how to take care of them.

I'm usually a little skeptical of efforts to just give handouts to poor communities and expect them to manage the gifts themselves. These types of donations are perceived by the communities as aid from the outside as opposed to a partnership that values them as an equal stakeholders. With that in mind, I plan on seriously attempting to seek contributions to the bednet project from Gambians, particularly those living abroad with more disposable income. Gambian contributions are essential to the sustainability of this project and will demonstrate to everyone that Gambian people are aware of the dangers of Malaria and value taking action to ensure their families remain in good health.

Because many of the recipients will be from my own area, I hope to be actively involved in the whole process, from fundraising to distribution to sensitization.
If YOU want to contribute please follow this link and donate towards the purchase of treated bednets. http://www.AgainstMalaria.com/zacharyrosen
I honestly think this is a worthy cause if the Gambian involvement can be strong enough and I'm excited to be a part of the whole effort. I too sleep under a net every night in my thatch roof hut and it's quite comfortable. It's like having your own little castle. My Gambian friends deserve to be kings and queens of their own castles as well. Let's make it happen. Hopefully follow up to come.

Here's a past distribution of some treated nets in Senegal through the same project.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

2008-12-25T16:21:00.000-08:00

Take a seat, relax and enjoy the show. Slideshow courtesy of Picasa this time. Click on the show to see the whole gallery.

Slideshow Test

2008-12-17T01:16:00.000-08:00

As Ive been in a village state of mind for about the past year I havent been able log on to flickr. It seems as though theyve got a nice new (to me) embedded slideshow feature. Let me try it out with some old stuff and then if it seems legit we will get a few nice shots that are right out of the oven.

Oh Holga, my friend, how I miss you. Oh Dakar, why are your keyboards so wild to the touch?

Girls.

2008-12-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

Another clever little video that is certainly worth a screening. Girls.

(More fragments and photographs to come soon.)

Ten to the One Hundreth-A Call For Innovation

2008-09-30T06:52:00.000-07:00

So I saw this quick little video, I think its made by google and it asks you to see how many lives in this world you can change for the better. I didn't have too much time to check out the details. But if you're interested (and you should be, it is your planet after all) watch the video and see what it really entails.

Shiny and New

2008-09-15T18:56:00.000-07:00

A fresh batch of photos is finally online. I've contributed to the organization of a photo contest among Peace Corps volunteers so we'll see how I do. I've taken more than six thousand shots with my camera now, a few of them ought to be alright. Maybe not? The Compound of Jah Gallery

From The Compound of Jah

On Starlit Affairs

2008-09-15T18:27:00.000-07:00

Of the happenings that transpire under the light of the stars, they have always been there for one to stumble upon. From overlapping toes to clasped hands, to curtained rooms, the whole of the village is busy and nobody wants anyone to know about it. As the wind blows and the leaves rustle, so too do the soft exclaimations of pleasure and pain characterize the night. Along with the hope that nobody hears, nobody discovers, the rampant disregard for supposed cultural norms. Though do norms only count in the daytime when lovers refuse to acknowlegde each other? Or are the starlit affairs not an abuse of the norms, but instead simply the complete manifestation of them? Some are mere youth trying new things while others are trying new partners. What is infideliy in a culture that permits polygamy anyhow? Does infidelity even exist, is it based on intention or does it only kick in when the roster is full? Regardless, people are usually late to sleep and some rooms fill with a natural heat, even in the absence of the blazing son.

Culture is a complex an dynamic beast, it must be to shun unmarried couples, yet under the stars encourage locked lips and poorly recited lines of true love. Here desire is drunkeness and the darkness its vice, obscuring visions and decisions all through the night.

The Books

2008-09-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

If you can have only three books, keep your holy book, your dictionary and your notebook.

But if you can have only two books, keep your dictionary and your notebook and write a personal holy book based on your own convictions.

The Compound of Jah

2008-09-15T17:14:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not dead, but the internet scene in my region is. Upcountry Gambia, however, remains a hot spot, despite its isolation from the world. We've been mighty busy out there hoeing up the fields and getting real dirty. I've been tending a new variety of dryland rice called ATM-3 that I'm a bit anxious to get back to, as it should be bearing fruit soon. The village crew and I have also been whiping up some local organic recipes to try and stay fit. Not fancy/trendy foods, but remedies for improving health and agricultural yields. We've got some cream made from the neem leaf that will protect you from mosquitos, a few compost piles with a smorgasbord of decaying materials sure to enrich the soil, an organic pesticide cocktail that is gaurenteed keep your garden protected and flourishing, and a delicious beverage known as rehydration solution consisting of sugar, salt and water that will replace and hold fluids in your body if you seem to be making a few more trips to the latrine than usual. I've got some adult literacy classes on the horizan and I may be able to contribute to the launch of a local credit union. So I'll be staying busy, not to mention the rice harvest.

When it comes doen to it I got a good situation going on. I have a few tales to tell here, but they wont reveal the whole story. You have to live it to really soak up the details. All the more reason to visit. I've been writing plenty, but most of my scrawl would be jibberish on a computer screen. Sometimes it's a bit too personal, sometimes its a bit too critical of the political environment and sometimes as I reread my writing I realize just how much my world view is evolving. So, no cause for alarm. But there is a cause to always think freely and creatively. Hopefully I'll be able to keep this place up and running now.

Blisters

2008-05-19T05:01:00.000-07:00

Blisters here, blisters there, blisters everywhere. Out in the countryside people use their hands. There isnt some fancy machine to do all the work for them. I have finally partaken in the traditional activity of breaking down my skin so that it can heal even tougher. Digging a garden in my backyard. Blister. Pulling buckets of water from the well. Blister. Pounding coos with a mortar and pestle. Blister. Shelling massive amounts of peanuts. Blisters.

If you yourself have no blisters youve either worked really hard or harldy worked. Go dig a hole and throw some seeds in there it builds character.

Thatch vs. Rain

2008-05-19T04:41:00.000-07:00

The first rains came on the night of May 6th. First there were flashes in the distance and as they approached the drops began to fall.

I realized that a land with this much sand, for a few moths every year, must become a land of mud. And so it did. But not for long as the storm soon passed. This was simply the first taste of what will come in the following weeks. Or so Im told.

With the rain that night came the wind. Whistling, window-slamming wind. I must admit that at first I doubted the structural integrity of my thatch roof. Could it withstand such gusts I asked my self, and would the rain seep through, wreaking havoc on the inside of my home? As I lay on my bed below the roof, I clutched a flashlight in my hand. Whenever a particularly fierce wave of wind blew past I would shine the light on the roof and make sure it was still there and without a gaping hole. I awoke in the morning still holding my flashlight. The roof greeted me above, in perfect form.

Im now sold on thatch roofs. And you know what they say, once you go thatch you never go back.

Forbidden Fruit

2008-04-16T17:25:00.000-07:00

Here's a trapdoor that leads to a few photos of mine...

Forbidden Fruit

Go ahead, take a bite.

4/17/08
The fruit just got a little bit sweeter.

Avoiding Conquest By Inferno

2008-04-14T20:45:00.000-07:00

The year's great fires burned high and bright as each village in the region struggled to build a flame-proof belt beyond its borders to prevent a catastrophe. My village was no different. I saw the smoke spires looming not far away as I attempted to learn Mandinka in my outside classroom. A windy afternoon brought the fires so close that they were visible from the village garden. I doubt my green plastic watering can would have slowed them much. Eventually, however, they appeared to retreat again. Sitting outside chatting in the late evening, I noticed the orange glow hovering patiently over the village like a flying phoenix waiting to swoop down low. Tenacious embers were pursuing our small town. I went to the road and could see the fire's horizontal battalions advancing around us. The flames could clearly be seen and even felt as they were perhaps merely a couple hundred meters away. As conquest by inferno appeared inevitable, the fire leapt and danced at our perimeter, its crackling war cry deafening. And then there was a change of wind and we were spared.

Dreams.

2008-04-14T15:50:00.000-07:00

Dreams. Kind of silly to discuss in formal settings beyond their mysterious meanings. What environments are the most encouraging for their inception and their rememberance? Do the people in The Gambia dream about the same concepts and senarios as those people residing in other regions? Is it possible for a person who has never been to West Africa to conjure images of a masquerading character clothed in organic fibers - like the that of the cerimonial Kankurang we have in these parts - independent of the cultures that spawned it? I guess anything is possible nowadays in the era of globalization...even our minds are intertwined. But should that scare us or inspire us?

One Large Step

2008-04-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

In his finest traveling shirt Babanding prepared to leave. His faded red duffel with the two rabbits carefully stitched on it was packed and ready to go. He walked towards the door, but stopped in the doorway and placed his bag (and its rabbits) carefully by his side. Then he slowly bent down and wrote two lines in the sand with his finger while reciting a prayer. When he was at peace enough to elevate the rabbits (and the bag) again he did so, and then took one large step to ensure his writing remained unscathed. He said his goodbyes and walked through the compound gate across the plot where the new mosque is planned to be. He headed towards the crumbling yet enduring road. The last time I've seen him since. One really must wash their hands before they write and then again afterward as well.

a letter home

2008-03-24T20:21:00.000-07:00

Zach hasn't been able to access the internet, but he did send a letter home, and I (Dad) have posted some excerpts.

"I am healthy and content. The Gambia is beautiful. I've already had many memorable experiences and made some good friends...My new experiences have opened my eyes to the cultures of Islam and West Africa at the village level...
"My Mandinka is coming along. I did well on my first of three language tests that I need to pass in order to swear in. Learning Mandinka has been great in facilitating communication between me and my host family. I have a great family...They have named me Ansoumana Yabo...
"As for the food, it is all quite good...I've managed to tolerate eating fish quite well and even come close to liking it on occasion. There are peanuts around as well and they make a great peanut sauce for the rice...
"I've had a chance to make it out to the local football field a couple of times to demonstrate my moves. The younger kids love playing with my ball until the sun goes down...
"The days are both long and short but regardless, I'm on my way to being on my own with my personal projects and goals. Hopefully I can send some pictures home soon and receive some prints in return. Also feel free to send more Black Warrior pencils, a small battery powered sharpener, as many Swedish Fish as you can, and whatever else could prove to be useful."

In case anyone was worried, Swedish Fish are on the way.