negrita's soundtrack: the tour

and, now, ladies and gentlemen...the tweet negrita has been waiting for:

@john_forte: It's official - K'Naan, Wale, and John Forte coming to a town near you this Spring!

um...


woot!

negrita's soundtrack: the tour

inspired: celebrating africa

one of the loveliest discoveries i've made in a while: Celebrate Africa!

the project was started by two sisters, Chioma and Oluchi Ogwuegbu:

having had enough of 'images of starving children, stories of corrupt politicians, famines, etc,' they decided to embark on a road trip around africa in an attempt to 'celebrate all that is beautiful on the continent from her peoples to her cultures, languages and religions.'

their mission is to: 'contribute to changing the negative image of Africa and encourage Africans and the world to begin to see the beauty in the continent [and to] promote a sense of identity and unity for Africa’s people.'




a noble mission indeed. rather than complain about the lack of positive images of africa in the media, these women are actually doing something about changing these images. about shedding light on the positive aspects of this struggling continent. in addition, they're giving back to the countries that host them throughout this journey.





they now intend to visit 22 countries in Africa, by road, over the period of 15 months. they intend to volunteer for non-profit organizations in each country, and will film their journey along the way.

you can follow their blog on their site and check out the photos, as well.

this is something i've always wanted to do, but never had the courage.
for those who have never been to the continent, this is a beautiful introduction. for those of us who live here, it is a brilliant reminder.

all images (c) Chioma Young 2008

Currently listening: The Dusty Foot Philosopher By: K'naan Release date: 2005-06-23

inspired: celebrating africa

trippin

scattered thoughtlets from random locales whilst on the way home for the holidays:

21/12/07
01:06pm--Sao Tome and Principe

to get from Sao Tome and Principe to Kigali is a ridiculously long three (sometimes 5) day trip. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure I can get to new york faster than I get to the other side of the continent. I'm not complaining though, because I'm fully prepared. the ipod and the laptop are fully charged cuz I know that it's going to be all about the long and dreary waits. for example, right now I'm sitting in the departure lounge at the sao tome airport waiting for a flight that has been delayed by two hours. two. hours. of. nothingness. there's a bar, but i haven't eaten and I'd like to be able to board the plane without falling over. and so I'm sitting here listening to the dreamgirls soundtrack (shut up) and trying not to sing along. but, if nothing happens soon…I'm fixin to break into a rousing rendition of 'steppin to the bad side' right about now.

TWO HOURS LATER

de plane! de plane!!
man. they'd better not leave my suitcase behind. *narrows eyes at baggage truck*

22/12/07
10:00am (or so I thought)--Libreville

so to celebrate making it off the island, I decided not to chance random budget accommodations in this strange city, and check myself into a nice business hotel. uh-huh. I am now officially broke. it's insane how expensive this place is, but since I had no where else to go, and no one I know, I decided to stay here. I thought, ok, so it's pricey, at least the price comes with breakfast, wireless, and CNN International. so, I'll just splurge. also, yay for wireless! yeah, except? the wireless is THIRTEEN DOLLARS AN HOUR. the HELL? and the breakfast of juice, coffee, and one pancake was an additional 30 DOLLARS. so, I'm broke. too broke to afford the pretty pretty wireless. and I'm bored as hell waiting to leave this place and go to the airport.

and this is one of the less pricey hotels in this town where clean sheets are guaranteed and I get a free ride to the airport. but I can't ever stay here again. I just blew my hotel budget for my trip home and back, so next time…backpackers hostel it is. I'll just carry my own sheets.

on the news, French aid workers are standing trial in Chad for the kidnapping of 103 children. they were attempting to rescue them from a life of doom and misery by exporting them to France. they claim that these children were refugees. they also claim that they were acting according to international law. now, here's the thing, I studied international law. international human rights law, in particular, and i'm here to tell you: there's no such thing. not in isolation of domestic law, anyway. you can't march into a country, decided that people are being violated or neglected, and then spirit them away on your magic plane to the land of milk and honey. this is why people don't take human rights activists seriously. because of incidents like this. anyway, they decided to circumvent Chad's laws and take these Sudanese orphans away. but…the children are not Sudanese orphans. they're Chadian. and no doubt they have been barely living in awful conditions while the country's leaders continue to doggedly pursue conflict and evade any attempts at stabilization. but they belong to someone. they have parents. they have families. what kind of ridiculous arrogance does it take to just TAKE THEM AWAY. the parents claimed they were tricked, and did not know their children were being evacuated. they thought the NGO was just going to take care of them. and that's another thing, after the whole high-profile mess with Madonna last year, and the recent tabloid-fuel 'controversy' regarding Angelina Jolie' Ethiopian adoption, you would think these organizations—in order to be effective and actually reach their goals—would research local law and find away to help these children that does not involve endangering them, or themselves. but of course, this would mean they would have to respect the people and laws of this poor African state (which is necessary, even when you violently disagree with them), rather than swoop in from their pedestals of superiority and enact a rescue mission.

now that I'm an expatriate living in an incredibly impoverished country, working for an international NGO, I see how it's tempting to use whatever resources you have to FORCE change. I see how you can get caught up in your 'mission' and how you can feel powerless and desperate in the face of lack of democracy, and complete and utter disregard for rule of law. but…no matter how noble your mission is…no matter how many human rights instruments are out there upon which you can rely to back up your action…the fact remains, you can't just impose your way of thinking upon people and think you can get away with it. this incident with the French NGO stems from this neo-colonial, superior, condescending attitude of this need to rescue Africans from themselves, which sickens me. we don't need superheroes with big planes to take our children away to Europe. how the hell does that solve any problem, in the long run? why could they not create a safe-haven for these children where they were? how did they not think that it may be detrimental to these children to remove them—emotionally and mentally—from their families and communitie? I suppose more will come out as the trial progresses. but these are my immediate thoughts on the whole thing.

wait. does that clock say 11:30?? the hell?? i completely forgot about the time zone change. I'm going to be sooo late. ack!

01:13 pm

while stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, I realized that the biggest gift given to me by island life is incredible patience. after half an hour in traffic, realizing I was late to check-in, I still did not panic. if this had happened to me a couple of years ago, I would've been near tears out of pure frustration. also, the hotel bus driver took some back road and stopped to pick up his cousin or someone (who wreaked of alcohol already. at 12:30pm) which he totally would not have done if I was one of the white customers of the hotel, but I didn't get pissed. I was all 'ah, what can you do' and turned up the volume on the ipod to drown out the declarations and ramblings of drunk dude.

airport. ok. reason number 342 I hate travelling: the dehumanizing metal detector. oh, it's awful. I just went through the thing about ten times and I swear the woman was about to make me remove my bra and put it through. as if being forced to remove one's shoes isn't gross enough (thanks, shoe bomber guy!). i travel so much, and this happens each time. but I feel just as violated every time. just now the woman took the metal stick thingy and made me put my hands above my head and spread my legs. she barked each order like I was a damn criminal. fuck you, metal detector power-trippin people. and happy holidays!

this lounge is freezing and the duty free shops are tempting me with their shiny prettiness. i'll just keep looking at my hotel bill, though, to remind me that shiny pretty things are no longer available to me after such decadence.

23/12/07
04:08 am--Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

i can't sleep! wide, wide awake. can't wait. will be in Rwanda with the fam and the peeps in 8 more hours. woo hoo!!!

happy holidays, beautiful people!
n*

Currently listening : Make Sure They See My Face

By Kenna

trippin

leve-leve

there's a sao tomean term 'leve-leve' which, as i understand it, means 'chill'. it's not so much a term, as a way of life. slowwww, and chill (see previous entry re. three hour lunch breaks). this can be incrediby excruciatingly frustrating when attempting to get anything done on time. there are times, though, when this outlook is, in fact, the most inviting, most charming aspect of life here.

i'm now at the cafe where i sometimes like to work, and i woke up this morning still hungover from the funk i've been in for the past week or so. so i'm in about seven different kinds of mad mood. then all of a sudden, someone turns the music up, and the owner of the cafe starts dancing with a member of the portuguese airforce (yup) and this old woman who sells vegetables on the street, hears the music, and dances into the cafe rockin' two bags of carrots and getting DOWN. using the carrots as dancing props. awesome. then another woman walks in...frowns...then also starts dancing by herself. it's turned into a spontaneous dance fest at 10:30 in the morning.

so...ok, infuriating logistical problems aside, maybe sometimes, i really do love the kooky randomness that is this island.

...is it too early for a cocktail? don't look at me like that! i'm just going with the flow.

Currently listening : Di Korpu Ku Alma

By Lura

leve-leve

beer and crabs

contrary to what this blog title suggests, this is NOT an entry about a debauched spring-break type situation.

for the third time today, this blog editor thing [EDIT: referring to myspace blog editor] has deleted everything i tried to post. so, rather than attempting to recapture the prolific profundities expressed earlier, i shall attempt a brief re-cap: yesterday, i was yanked out of the solitude to which i had resigned myself and invited to go for lunch. crab, to be more specific. now, i am not a seafood connaiseur (i got tricked into eating sea snails the other day and have not yet recovered from the EWWWWW of it all), but i decided that to think outside of the box that oprah's always warning me about and do the damn thing. we drove to a wee seaside hamlet and i ordered what everyone else was having: beer and crabs. and, in the end, i had the best experience i've had in a long time. nothing like an afternoon of roadtripping, eating, drinking, and conversating about the evils of the world: colonialism (bastards!), capitalism (mo money, mo problems), and t-pain-ism (he who lit the spark that started the fire on r&b and hip-hop charts known as RINGTONE DISEASE--eg. hey-bay-bay).

ok, maybe didn't talk about t-pain-ism. but i was thinking it on the drive back.

*warily presses "preview & post"*

beer and crabs

getting stoned

well, i've done it. i've become a proper evil tourist.



i'm hanging my head in shame.


the other weekend, we were returning to addis from Nazareth, where we went to escape from the cold and rain, and check out the nearby hotsprings. on our way back, i was taking photos like a deranged woman, just trying to capture images of the ethiopian countryside, of the people, of the rural lifestyle. i tried not to be too intrusive and noticeable, so i was doing all of this from a distance, or from safety of the car. so when we came across a herd of majestic looking cattle, i naturally got all tourist-y and excited (hell, we ain't got no camels in rwanda--it was legitimate excitement!!) and started taking photos. as soon as i took the first one, out of nowhere emerged a crew of nomads. not just a crew, a massive. a posse, if you will. and they all slowly approached the car, shouting, and picking up stones from the road side, while surrounding the vehicle. i had no idea what was up and sat there grinning quizzically like a moron. then they began shouting and approaching the windows, and i started to get slightly worried. no one in the car could understand what they were saying, because they were speaking Oromia and our driver only spoke Amharic. we were so not in control of the situation. we rolled up our windows and they became more hysterical, obviously trying to tell us something and failing to communicate. the more we misunderstood and subsequently didn't react, the more fired up they got. all i could think of was that we should give them money. but i had no idea whether that would be appreciated (i.e, in exchange for the photographs) or whether they would be offended and proceed to kick my foreign ass. or stone it. because at this point, one kid was standing outside my window with a massive stone aimed right at my head, looking at me like with pure contempt. he must've been only 12 years old, but he was all kinds of pissed off and there was nothing but glass between us. after a few minutes, a traffic jam had occurred, due to this suddenj roadblock, and a truck driver came over and offered to translate.


he explained to us, then, that the nomads were angry because they thought i was using the camera to curse the camels, or to poison their milk. they were incensed because the camels are their lives and livelihood, and they were unsure as to the effects of this tool i was pointing at them. the translator (bless him!) explained that i was just a simple foreigner who knows not of their ways and that the camera was harmless and that i was only taking pictures to show people in my home. they were still angry, at this point, and still threatening to stone us, so we asked him to ask them if we can exchange money for the photos. i was expecting further struggle and negotiation, but they accepted the 10 birr instantly, and allowed us to go.
which makes me think that maybe they knew what they were doing all along! hustlas!



seriously, though, after the fear and shock had worn off, i felt awful because i had become one of those insensitive tourists who marches all up into people's space and causes chaos with my inane need to "capture the authenticity" of my surroundings, or some such thing.
since then, i've been careful to ask permission whenever i want to capture an image. it was a rude awakening, i must say. but i have learned my lesson! getting stoned has taken on a whole new meaning, yo.


Currently listening : Dusty Foot Philosopher

By K'naan

getting stoned