Pictures Worth a Thousand Thanks

Dindefelo girls with their finished portraits.

 Maintaining regular updates has been very hard given the (relatively) short amount of time that I am spending in West Africa and the very irregular internet access! I have been away from Segou for about a week now, having left on the 22^nd to travel around the rest of Senegal and get to know the country a bit better. Everyone I meet respects me a little bit more when I say I lived and worked in the Kedougou region for a month – being the farthest part of Senegal, and the poorest, most French and Senegalese haven’t been there.

Teaching the girls how to view the world through a frame as a way to understand how to frame photographs.

The last week and a half in Segou really flew by, because I was determined to finish the photography project that I started. Since there were always little events and problems that got in my way – rainstorms that prevented travel to Dindefelo, the next village over, or lack of communicated between the monitor and the girls to make sure they all attended class – I ended up having about four classes in each location, Segou and Dindefelo. The project had to be modified according to what I thought was possible with up to 40 girls and just me with a camera, and only four sessions, but I am really pleased with the results and I know the girls are, too.

One of the Segou girls' portraits, in the schoolyard with the mountains to Guinea in the background.

The modified photography project consisted of each girl sketching what she wanted her portrait to look like. We talked about what a portrait was, and how framing a photograph changes its meaning entirely. Their sketch was meant to help me take the actual photography according to what each girl wanted; unfortunately, that connection wasn’t super clear so when the time came to take the photographs, most girls just wanted to stay in the schoolyard when they had drawn themselves at home. This may have been because they didn’t want to take me home with them, or because they didn’t make the direct connection. In any case, the second to last class I walked around the schoolyard and village with small groups of girls, taking their portraits according to how they wanted them. I asked them if they wanted a close up, what side of the picture frame they wanted to be in, and what they wanted to be doing in the photograph. As each girl go her turn, I considered having the others there to see the process just as important to understand.

I brought my little printer to my Dindefelo class -- it was very popular.

Then I printed each photograph back at home with my portable printer – the printer and all of the photo supplies made it in one piece, and worked really well for what I needed. (They are now donated to 10,000 Girls, in the hopes that they can use them in the future.) The last class was spent handing out each girls’ portrait and writing about themselves on a piece of construction paper. The English/art lesson continued to the end – as they chose a color for their final portrait, I made each girl say her choice in English (blue, red, orange, etc), which was not as easy as it may seem. Each final portrait was placed into a plastic binder sleeve so that they would be able to hang it up in their huts without worrying about the rain ruining it. When the girls realized that they would be able to keep their portraits, and have a plastic case in addition, their eyes lit up – seeing their excited and grateful reactions about keeping their portraits was all I needed to remind my what I was doing in these tiny villages. 

Hawa Diallo's finished self portrait.

As you can see, the results are fantastic. The portraits themselves stand alone, but I also love seeing what the girls wrote alongside the photographs. I gave them some guidance, of course, and said they could write in English or in French. Each photograph is different, each portrait is different, and each girl is different. Now that I’ve had a week to reflect on my time in Segou, I appreciate the girls the most. Seeing their lives, what they do every day, and understanding their hopes for the future was wonderful. Hopefully I will be able to post more about my time in Segou, and in Senegal in general. For now, though, I am enjoying my beach vacation!

The Segou girls with their finished projects!

La vie en Kedougou

View from the road to Dindefelo, the neighboring village.

This region, the Kedougou region, is beautiful, there is no denying it. Green foothills with red cliffs peeking out, thatched round huts, monkeys crying in the trees (I finally saw my first one today as it crossed the road!), thunderstorms preceded by lightening behind the mountains, and villagers dressed in brightly patterned clothing.

 

The 10,000 Girls compound in Segou, or as we volunteers and the villagers call Chez Mum. I live in one of the huts in the back. You can see one of the foothills behind the compound, which is where our water comes from. There are always men and women from the village helping out and hanging around.

I've been getting into the routine here: mornings, when the weather is cooler, is for working -- cleaning the rooms, doing laundry by hand, planting trees, helping with landscaping. Around noon it gets hot, so we tend to sit in the shade reading, writing, preparing for class with the girls in the afternoon. Lunch is around 2, and always involves everyone sitting on the floor on a mat, shoes off, eating out of communal bowls of rice with fish and sauce with big spoons. If we are teaching, the four of us volunteers sit around, maybe take a nap, and then leave for the 2 local schools where we alternate days for English and art class from 4 to 6. Once we get back home, after very bumpy and dusty roads in the open truck, there is more sitting, maybe helping with dinner, which is made in an open kitchen with one propane burner so it takes a while, and more reading. Dinner is around 8 or 9, and usually eaten in the dark because the only lights we use are from solar power, and continue to be installed. Last night was the first time we ate by a single lightbulb rather than with flashlights, and it felt so civilized!

This is Ndella, the assistant to Viola, the director of 10,000 Girls, who basically manages the volunteers.

Some of our students in Segou, all teenage girls from about 10 years old to 18, all in middle school. Only one girl from Segou has gone to high school; we met her a few days ago and will graduate next year. The village really respects her, and now many girls plan to attend high school.

The watercolor lesson from last week at the Segou school. The girls had never used paints or held a paintbrush, so the explanation of how to paint took longer than the actual painting!



I am glad I am here for several weeks, as it takes time to understand how things work as well as to get the word out on our classes and what the girls want to do with us. We four volunteers planned a great 4th of July party for 50 girls for the holiday, and I think it really broke the ice with the girls who were too shy to talk to us before. I will upload pictures from our party the next time I can ride in the truck, get covered in red dust, and make it to the small internet cafe (with 5 computers, 2 fans, and nothing else).

Slowly, in Segou

It took me about a week, but I am now pretty much settled into the next part of my summer as a volunteer with 10,000 Girls in Segou, a very, very small village in southeastern Senegal. It took almost 15 hours to get from Dakar to Segou on Monday, and several different types of transportation, since our car broke down in the middle of nowhere after driving for about 8 hours. Luckily, I was with another American volunteer and we made our way to Segou, but not without a lot of bargaining in French and waiting for cars, drivers, and animals to get moving.

The village is so small that its center is delineated only by a slightly larger clearing with a small shack that says Telecommunication, but doesnt actually sell anything. The village is made up of family compounds which have a few thatched huts each, where people cook and sleep, though most sit and work under trees in the shade during the day. I am staying at the 10,000 Girls Welcome Center that is still in the middle of being built. My room is a large thatched hut with some bunk beds, a small window, and a bathroom. We are in the mountains, which means our water supply is very clean and abundant, which is really great. We only have solar power, which means that during the rainy season; in which we are now, there is not much electricity. The pace of life here is slow, so slow. Everything we do, from eating meals to gardening to teaching the local girls, takes many discussions, phone calls, and waiting.

The best part of this week was meeting the group of teenage girls in Segou who are in the program. Two of the American volunteers here are teaching them English conversation, and I am teaching art. We had our first art lesson on Thursday, which turned out to be really eye opening. Of the thirty girls, from about 10 to 18 years old, none of them had seen a paintbrush, paints, crayons, or colored clay before. We basically just spent an hour experimenting and playing. Normally the classroom, which is just a concrete square, is silent because the girls don't understand the English lesson. This time, the classroom was silent with concentration while we were playing with art materials. Hopefully in the next two weeks we will be able to finish the photography project I brought. Since nothing here happens easily, it is relatively difficult to make sure everyone is at the same place at the same time. We will see!

See you later, Ghana. Hello, Senegal!

It has been a long two weeks in Ghana -- so long, in fact, that Accra has become home to me. After traveling through Kumasi, we arrived back in Accra, the capital of Ghana, on Thursday evening. Everyone was able to do laundry, check email on the NYU wireless network, and pick up their clothing from the Ghanaian seamstress, etc. I realized it was probably the last time I'll be able to wash my clothes in a normal washing machine for the rest of the summer, so I basically threw everything in. I'm learning to take advantage of the basics when I can: decent shower, laundry, refrigeration, comfortable mattress. I'm not sure what to expect once I get to the village of Segou to start my internship, but I know I won't get many -- if not all -- of those things.

As a treat after the course, a few friends in my class, along with one of our professors, headed to the beach on Friday night for some music, good food, and relaxation along the sand before we all went our separate directions. It was really nice to relax and listen to the waves for a full 24 hours. I tried to get in all of my favorite Ghanaian snacks: fresh white pineapple cut up by the vendor, fried yams chips (fried over a small fire in the sand!) with spicy pepe sauce, and finally got to try a coconut with its top chopped off, straight from the tree. (I have photos, but for some reason the internet isn't letting me upload them!)

Tonight, I fly from Accra to Dakar, and from there drive 14 hours from Dakar to Segou, a small village where I will be volunteering with 10,000 Girls. I have my photography equipment, art supplies to donate, and lots of supplies to keep me healthy and happy (hopefully) during my five weeks with them.

Museum Fatigue & Traveling

As a museum educator for several years, I learned the real impact and presence of "museum fatigue" -- that inexplicable tiredness you feel when you've been at a museum for just a little too long. Mainly this happens because you are looking at so many new things that you physically feel tired, even though you may have spent only an hour in a museum.

Elmina fishing village, on the Gulf of Guinea. This is the view from the Elmina Slave Castle, the oldest in the world. The beautiful and the horrifying in the same place.

After non-stop traveling and exploring in Ghana for the past week and a half, I think museum fatigue also translates into traveling fatigue. Even sitting in a car/bus/restaurant/office all day, I am exhausted from taking everything in. Mainly this is because everything here is new, and it takes a lot of energy to absorb and process all of the new sights, sounds, smells, and ideas floating around.

Urban farm in Accra, where most farmers are in a cooperative that gains knowledge, technology, and inputs from the government to help increase agricultural productivity.

This NYU Wagner class on hunger, poverty and food security is certainly exposing me to all kinds of ideas, programs, and plans that I haven't learned about before. We've visited urban farms with farmer coops who manage them, small roadside farms run by individual farmers, USAID and other NGOs working on increasing agriculture production and healthy eating in Ghana, large farms and cooperatives, and lots of cultural sites in between. Now that the class is coming to an end, I'm looking forward to reflecting on the packed days to really understand how all of our meetings and visits coalesce into a broader picture of how Ghana is working to reduce hunger and poverty.

Kuapa KoKoo cooperative cocoa farmers, drying cocoa beans in a village outside Kumasi, Ghana. The beans smelled really cool, not quite like chocolate but something very similar. These beans are Fairtrade and are directly linked to Divine chocolate bars, available at Whole Foods.

The New Normal

Street children at JayNii, a community center for street children run by Jay and Nii on the beach below the lighthouse in Accra. I'm squeezed in the back there -- it was a great night of African drumming and dancing to support the organization.

I am acclimated to Accra now, after driving over, through, and around this large city for the past five days. I am no longer surprised by the women carrying heavy loads of sandals/peanuts/water/mangoes/clothing on the tops of their heads, or by the various shacks -- some with religious names like "3 Kings of Kebab" or "Jesus Saves Snack Shop" -- that seem to pop up along every major roadside.

There is a new normal here that I am embracing. With the new normal, children jump in front of every camera they see, as happened at the JayNii organization on Wednesday night, shown above. With the new normal, travel time fluctuates wildly, from 10 minutes to an hour for the same stretch of road. Cars use their horns as a way of speaking to each other -- constantly. Food orders take at least 45 minutes to get to the table, if not longer, but it is always worth it. Greetings are required for everyone, and everyone is related to each other as sister, brother, auntie, and uncle. The rains come as quickly as they go, the frogs sound as blaring as security alarms at night, and the humidity never ceases. This is the new normal, and I am loving it.

Palm nuts for sale at the Kaneshie Market in Accra.

The past few days have been so busy, and so intense. We are learning hands-on about agriculture, food security, and nutrition in Ghana by visiting regional, national, and international organizations who are doing passionate work to increase productivity of farmers, give access to nutritious food, and decrease poverty. We have visited many offices, some air conditioned and some not, with many PowerPoint presentations. These are informing our field visits -- yesterday we visited the Kaneshi Market to study a commodity chain. My group is looking at palm oil, a local reddish oil used for cooking, that begins with palm nuts shown above. Interviewing market sellers and understanding the value chain was a great anthropological and sociological study, I really loved meeting all of the friendly (and not so friendly) market sellers and exploring the market. I am gaining direct experience with international policies and programs in international development that is really inspiring -- all informed by the new normal of being in West Africa. Next stop -- Cape Coast and Kumasi! Goodbye, Accra!

Akwaaba!

(Akwaaba = Welcome in Twi, the local language that half of Ghanaians speak)

Next leg of the summer adventure has begun: I have been in Accra for the past few days and just started my course in food policy and hunger with NYU Wagner today. So far, I've been healthy and not too jolted by culture shock. Sure, Ghana is different from everywhere else I've traveled, but it also seems somewhat familiar. I'm not sure whether this is because it looks like a lot of movies and photographs I've seen or if it is because I just didn't know what to expect so I'm absorbing everything. Nevertheless, all of the traveling and settling in went well so I'm thankful for that.

We are staying in the NYU Accra dorms in a nice neighborhood of Accra, Labone. The dorm is really a large compound/house -- with high, white walls and full-time security, of course. Outside the walls, our street is quiet and could be just about anywhere. Then you get to either end of the street and you're reminded that this is Africa -- coconut seller at a small table with a bright umbrella at one end, and a small open-air barber shop at the other. I still haven't bought a coconut (which they cut off the top of for you to drink from), but plan on doing it tomorrow.

The city is huge, at least from what I can tell. We drive in vans or take taxis almost everywhere, and each drive generally takes a while. It might be the traffic, or the scary drivers on their motorbikes or in large trotros, which are like communal vans, but everything takes a while. Traveling takes a while, as well as everything else -- I've noticed that we do a lot of sitting around. Waiting for people/cars/food to arrive, or leave, is pretty typical around here. Yesterday, after a long circuitous and conspicuous walk through a windy street in the Osu neighborhood, we found a chop shop -- or local food vendor -- that was supposed to be really good (it was). There was a large group of students, and we sat down. It took about 15 minutes to actually order (the waitress left halfway through taking everyone's order and then came back like nothing had happened) and then over an hour for the food to arrive. This is typical, and something I definitely have to get used to. The chop shop was a great place to observe a different culture at work -- there were bottles of dish soap on the table, and the waiters would bring bowls of water and towels for the patrons to wash their hands before and after eating (as most eat with their fingers). The food took forever to come, but when it did, the waitress was very friendly and kept checking to make sure we liked it. I tried my first plate of red-red, which is a bean stew that comes with fried plantains -- it was delicious. So far, I really love Ghanaian food.

Food, traveling, Accra history, and lots of planning for the next two weeks -- that's what has been on my mind since arriving just two days ago. It feels like much longer. Tomorrow, we have a lecture on nutrition, a visit to the Ghana School Feeding Program, a visit to the Nkrumah Memorial and arts center, and then dinner. Its going to be a full, hot, and muggy day.