Dear Reader,
Are you still there? It may seem I have abandonded you, but take heart, I have not. Each school year presents a theme and this year appears to be the year of work. I fear, at times, these Abidjan years may pass in this hunkering down state of seriousness, which is not at all fun, but I am holding out hope.
I have begun to realize a new relationship with Africa. Our long affair has morphed into a common law marriage. And while I cannot imagine being without her, I do find myself searching for the magic that caused me to fall in love in the first place. It is there, hidden amidst what has become our everyday intimacy.
A few months ago, when I realized how routine we'd gotten- Africa and I- I decided perhaps I should try to take one appealing photo everyday. You can see how that has worked out. I have fallen far short of one everyday, but I did manage to capture a few. Despite this year of work, I am still grateful for many things and occasionally the mundane becomes magical.
Sometimes - or really often times- my neighborhood takes on postcard quality. I am surrounded by the beauty of groups of women in colorful cloth going about their daily chores of life. There is a sense of support and closeness among them that is the inspiration for all those 'carrying water on their heads' postcards and paintings. It's not the water or the feat but the relationship that inspires. (Although I have found myself practicing the head carry more and more, it's just plain convenient- when it's not spine crushing and neck breaking, of course.)
I find my perspective as audience member for traditional dance shows does not usually match the joy and impression of other viewers. I am a bit more critical and see a lot more "behind the scenes" details that could be improved. I am trying to view this as a result of experience and therefore not a bad thing, but sometimes it would be nice to just be swept away in awe. Guinee....Congo...I am counting on you guys to still hold this power over me...
I pass this sign frequently and usually feel this is exactly what I need. Abidjan has me a little lost at times and it would be so relieving to just call the right number and get a little 'soul adjustment.'
I almost hopped out of the taxi to get a better shot of this key dangling mysteriously from a billboard. I watched for another week or more from my taxi window on the way home each day. Eventually a heavy rain storm washed it away. I still can't help but wonder about the story of it's placement- where did it come from, who placed it there and why? Did they see it as a work of art in just the way I did?
I took this photo one morning because the afternoon before I'd seen a group of boys playing here. They stripped off their shirts and appeared ready to dive in. Really, they just splashed around laughing and having fun like any kids might when faced with what is essentially a giant puddle. I realized there were two eyes to see this with- boys playing in an oversized puddle or poor African kids swimming around in dirty water. My African eyes almost snapped a picture of sweet joy after a strong rain, but then my Western eyes woke up and asked....how will people really look at that picture? So here is the puddle, sans enfants. Bring your own joy.
A view of the city from the third floor of a school gym where I used to work out on Saturday mronings. This window also overlooks the school pool and entranceway. I used to be so captivated by the luxuriousness of this place. And the reminder that Abidjan is vast. This view also made me a little homesick for Kinshasa, remembering the scene as you drive out of the city towards Bas Congo...vast, a little hazy and promising potential in the suggestion of wild greens ahead.
This photo is from a walk down a busy main road. I had some random time between tutoring jobs and was trying to walk slowly. I stopped here to clean out some phone messages and realized that, although these things are as common as squirrels in NY, they're not squirrrels, and I am not in NY.
My baby girl is growing up thoroughly African. She has a few bad habits, like sucking her teeth and looking at you out of the corner of her eye or throwing her wrappers on the ground- even if she is inside, she will walk to the door and throw it outside in the yard. I am really trying to turn this habit around. But she also has beautiful habits like carrying things on her head, helping wash whatever needs washing (and plenty of things that don't- she just loves water,) wearing babies on her back, laughing long and loud and giving that reassuring smile at just the right moment. She speaks words in at least three languages (four if we include the one none of the rest of us can't quite figure out- her own private language) and my favorite- she loves wrapping fabric around her in the exact perfect way you wrap a pagne, complete with knee bend and waist wiggle.
This one is just for fun. We still go to school together, usually on Sundays. She does something artistic like make a painting or string some beads and I try to catch up on random schoolwork. Or sometimes we just go down the slide. It may not be the beautiful jungles of TASOK, but we still manage to carve out a few moments of fun in this year of work.
