Guinea Part 1 - 7 Dec 07 to 27 Dec 07

My first stint in the country of Guinea was from December 7th-December 27th, 2007. I arrived into the Gbessia airport at 3am, in the middle of the night. After an amazingly long day all over the town and attending a couple of neighborhood weddings with drumming and dancing, I settled in at the house of my teacher Fara Tolno's family, in Gbessia.

I spent the next week exploring the city of Conakry and studying doundoun music with Fara's brothers and former teachers. Following are a few pictures of the city of Conakry and of my time studying drumming here.

This is Naby, a good friend of Facinet Bangoura, the Balafon player I play with in the US. They are from the same village in Guinea. Naby plays often with the brothers of my teacher, Fara, at weddings all over Conakry. For those of you not familiar, the balafon is the name of the instrument he is playing here. It is an ancient West African instrument as well as a modern one.

This is my classroom in Conakry. I spent a week intensively studying doundoun rhythms with Fara's brothers and his former teacher, Papa Zito.

Here are Scott and Kellie visiting Fara's family's house. Sekou, Fara's brother, was inspired to photograph the Fotes (white people) eating traditionally. Being sly, he also took a video of us eating without our knowing it.

Going out on the town in Conakry.

Here is a band playing at a wedding in Conakry. There are beaucoup weddings in the city all the time, especially on the weekends. The local professional musicians gig primarily (that I have observed) at the weddings. The styles range from traditional drumming to modern ensembles incorporating traditional instruments and always feature earsplitting distortion through cranked up amplifiers, griot singing through hand-held megaphones and awesome drumming. Generally, a good time is had by all.

Here is the beach in Conakry. Yes, that is 6 inches of trash. Although tempting, I did not go for a swim here.

Hanging out "en ville" (downtown). This guy is putting a new skin on a djembe.

After I left Conakry, I headed up country to attend the Fete de Tabaski in the small village where Mamady Keita was born. Mamady Keita is probably Guinea's most well-known djembefola and has founded schools all over the world. He was taking an international group of his students (about 20) back to his village to play during the fete and show people back home how much their music means to people all over the world. I was fortunate enough to know a couple of the people who were filming this excursion for Mamady, and got the invite to attend the fete as well. As the village is quite far off the beaten track, I had to do a bit of exploring to find my way there. I started off by heading to the town of Siguiri, which is the last major town in Guinea before Mali.

The picture below is of a Bolon player I met in Siguiri, who came to hang out with me and play some. I would characterize the Bolon kind of like the stand-up bass. However, the playing style includes quite a bit of drumming on the resonating gourd inbetween plucking the strings so the sound is really much different.

Here is the station in Siguiri where I went to research the route to Mamady Keita's village. Noone knew exactly how to get there but everyone knew what direction it was in. So, I got on a motorbike and about an hour later I was standing on the banks of the Niger River.

Here I am standing in the Niger. After the motorbike dropped me off, he headed back to Siguiri and I walked across the first half of the river, which was about waist-deep. The man crossing with me took this picture for me. Unfortunately, my camera got wet somehow and stopped working for one week. The fact that it started working again after that and has been fine ever since is an amazing miracle that I am very thankful for. However, I did not take any pictures of my time in Balandougou myself. Fortunately, a friend who was there was able to send me a few photos via email for my blog (see below). Thanks very much Scott!!

Here is a shot of the village of Balandougou, situated in northeastern Guinea very close to the Malian border. After crossing the Niger and finding another motorbike ride, we made it here in another 2 hours, cruising through open fields and bush surrounded by rolling hills. The countryside here is very beautiful.

The Fete de Tabaski is a big party held a couple months after the end of Ramadan. The tradition as Mamady Keita explained it was for the drummers of the village to go around early in the morning just before sunrise and drum the village awake, so that is what he had his students do. I came along and got to play for a little bit.

During the time Mamady's students were there, they went from village to village performing a drumming set Mamady had choreographed. The last couple days, including the day of the fete, the performances took place in Balandougou itself. There were also many local musicians and dancers who came to perform and present. There is a big, open field where everything took place and these boys took advantage of this tree to get a better view.

I made friends with two local boys, Toumani and Keita, who hung out with me, taught me some Malinke and showed me around the village. Here is me with my friend Toumani at the Fete de Tabaski.

My next stop was the town of Kankan. In order to reach Kankan from Balandougou, Mamady's village, I returned again via motorbike along a different route straight south until the main road between Kankan and Mandiana. I say main road because it actually had vehicle traffic on it as opposed to only motorbikes. On the way back to Kankan, I had one of the most exciting/thrilling/dusty/harrowing transport rides in all my journeys in Africa, including controlled slides all over the road, hitting potholes at 30 mph, and frequent stops to let the engine cool so it wouldn't overheat and strand us there. When we arrived in Kankan, covered completely with about an inch of red dust, which had been constantly pouring in the window while we drove, the conductor turned to me and smiled and said "Welcome to Africa".

I came to Kankan to visit a friend named Melinda who is serving in the Peace Corps. Melinda spent her first two years in a small village called Nyandankoro, halfway between Siguiri and Kankan, which I was to visit later. Now in her 3rd year, she is working with various organizations in the bigger university town of Kankan. I followed her around and saw some of the work that she does. One day, we visited a center she works with that helps displaced street children, trying to rehabilitate them so that they can reintegrate back into their families or find work. Another day, we visited a decrepit building the local community hopes to turn into a youth center. It was very interesting and rewarding to revisit the Peace Corps experience and see everything Melinda was involved in, as well as having some great insightful conversations. Thanks Melinda for the hospitality.

Here is a picture of the market in Kankan.

One day, I borrowed a bicycle from Melinda and headed out into the countryside for a little while. I found this beautiful baobab tree there.

Later that same day, Melinda and I were walking down the street when we encountered this wedding in full swing. I talked to the drummers and they invited me to play with them so I played accompaniment djembe for the entire ceremony, for about 2 hours. Afterwards, they even paid me!!

People often put small tips on the musicians' bodies or in their clothes or instruments during weddings here. Look in the front of my shirt.

After a great first foray into Guinea, and with the promise of a later return, I left on December 27th 2007 to head up to Mali and meet my teacher Abdoul Doumbia there. The road is mostly paved and quite good but the last few miles into Bamako are all dirt and it was a bit sketchy cruising along at high speed and low visibility, although nothing compared to my ride on the Kankan-Mandiana road. My time in Mali is represented in another blog posting.

Morocco - 28 Nov 07 to 6 Dec 07 (and some perspective on the whole trip)

OK, my first blog post of the trip. Thanks for bearing with me. The technology infrastructure here is not to be taken for granted; consequently things must be done in stages sometimes.

First, a couple words about why I'm doing what I'm doing. Why did I go to Africa for 6 months?

Well, for several reasons. The first and foremost is to understand the reality of life here, from a participatory standpoint. Dive in. See what it's about. How much do oranges cost in the market? What is the cultural meaning behind how people say good morning? Of course, I already spent over two years in Mozambique doing just that. But Africa is vast. The reality of Mozambique is not the same as Benin, or Morocco for that matter. I've spent quite a bit of time involved with the musical traditions and people of West Africa and I felt it was time to get to know that part of Africa as well.

The second reason I came was to study the music in more depth. I've been involved in the musical culture for years now, and I felt it was time to experience it at its source. What is it like to see a rhythm played for a masked dancer or a wedding party? Who are the teachers of my teachers and what stories do they have to tell me?

I also want to say that for me reason #1 above is a very important counterpoint to reason #2 for coming here. I also want to get a sense of the place of the music in people's lives, and get a sense of the reality of life here, that not everyone is a master drummer or dancer, most people are ordinary folks living their lives. In a word, perspective.

The third reason would be that I was born to travel, and deep down I really want to go everywhere. Some places are just higher on the priority list.

The fourth reason I went on this trip is to return, at the end of my journey, to my Peace Corps country of service: Mozambique. It's been five years since I left and the pull of all my personal connections there is very strong. So I guess this is really two trips in one; four months experiencing West Africa followed by a two-month return visit to Mozambique, with Morocco as a prelude.

OK, so with all that on the table, why then Morocco? Well, I've learned in my travels so far to be an opportunist when it comes to seeing new places. In order to get to Guinea, West Africa one must fly via Casablanca, Morocco and there is no additional charge to stop for a few days. Plus, a good friend of mine just finished his Peace Corps service there and thus I had the opportunity for some connections and people to stay with. So I thought to myself, Why Not? Plus, the opportunity to experience a North African country in addition to West African, Southern African and East African countries allows yet another level of understanding of the African continent. And also an opportunity to experience life in a Muslim country.

I spent 9 very full days travelling through Morocco, making a loop starting and ending in Casablanca that passed through Marrakech, the Atlas Mountains, Ouarzazate, Midelt, Fes, Rabat and back to Casablanca. I got to meet tons of Moroccan people and spend a little time with some Peace Corps volunteers as well. Below are some images that tell a little of the story, along with a few comments. Thanks for reading.


My last stop in the US before coming to the African continent was NYC. I spent a very nice Thanksgiving with my girlfriend, Jennifer, and her family. Here we are out to breakfast in Brooklyn. Thanks guys for an awesome Thanksgiving and wonderful hospitality!!

OK, here we go Morocco. This is the Marrakech McDonalds. Every old Moroccan city has two parts: the Medina, which is the ancient, medieval city, and the Ville Nouvelle, the adjacent modern city of streets made for cars and fast food restaurants.

Here is a souk, or shop, in the Medina in Marrakech.

Moroccan food is, in my opinion, very good. The most common dish I encountered was the tajine (below). It is a small, self-contained oven in which the food is cooked and served. The food is eaten by breaking off pieces of bread and using them to grab chunks of the food and place them in your mouth.

After Marrakech, I took a six-hour bus ride over the Atlas Mountains. They are some serious mountains, approaching dimensions and landscapes familiar to me from the Rockies in Colorado.

Crossing the Atlas and arriving on the eastern side of the mountains, one is greeted by a much more arid landscape. The hard, flat earth stretches out to the horizon in a prelude to the Sahara beyond. I had the good fortune to visit a Peace Corps Volunteer living in the eastern foothills of the Atlas for a couple of nights. She lives in a small Berber village. The Berber are the original people of Morocco, whose culture has been strongly influenced and blended with the Arab peoples who came roughly 1300 years ago, but they retain a unique identity, language and culture. This is my friend J.M. and some of her close Moroccan friends. I had to ask special permission to take this photo, as many Berber people do not like to be photographed.

I just had to put up this photo of J.M.'s kitchen. J, I hope that's ok. Let me know. Anyway it reminded me so much of all the meals I cooked living in Mozambique.

Here is a Kasbah (castle) built in the 17th century. Although not as famous as the nearby Ait Benhadou, this Kasbah found outside of Skoura is much larger and also older, and is on some of the Moroccan m0ney. The kasbah at Ait Benhadou is famous as the site of filming for a half-dozen Hollywood movies, like Gladiator and some others I can't remember. The whole regi0n around Ouarzazate is a very popular on-site filming location, and the rumor going around was that Leonardo di Caprio was in town filming a new movie while I was there. I did not see him anywhere while I was riding around on the public transportation.


After visiting the Ouarzazate region, I rented a car for a couple of days and drove up the east side of the Atlas. I made a couple of detours up the Dades and Todra gorges. Here is a picture of my friend Mohammed who was showing me around; we were driving up the Todra gorge to visit a small mountain town called Tamtatoucht (tam-ta-TOOSHT).

Mohammed and his friend insisted in dressing me in the traditional Berber headwrap and taking my photo. When I asked him if he could work my camera, he told me he was "Berber Japanese". I guess that means yes.

Here are some dromedaries that were hanging out by the side of the road in the Todra Gorge.

After crossing another big mountain pass, I ended my first day with the rental car in a small industrial town called Midelt. It was here, in probably the least touristy town I visited in Morocco, that I met the most genuine people. These guys took me all over town and we hung out all night. Here we are smoking the chicha, a big water-pipe that you smoke through a flexible tube. The stuff we smoked was a sweet-smelling purple lump that smelled like it could be eaten. The taste was very nice.

My friends also took me to their house to meet their family. Here's me with Mom.

The next day I drove through a beautiful cedar forest that looked like it could have been in Oregon, except for the troupes of Barbary Apes inhabiting its trees.

Stop

After the forest, I passed briefly through the town of Meknes and got lost for an hour before finding my way out the other side and on the road to Volubilis (below). Volubilis was the southernmost extension of the Roman Empire and was inhabited for a couple of hundred years around AD 200-400. In addition to the ruins of walls and arches, there are also many beautiful mosaics that are preserved.

Just down the road from Volubilis is the holy city of Moulay Idriss, named for the Moroccan saint who brought Islam to the country in the 8th century AD. My guide for the city, Majite, was a really great guy who also offered me his perspective on the tensions between traditional and modern culture in Morocco.

My next stop in Morocco was the grand old city of Fes. I stayed the pitifully short time of a day and a half, which barely scratched the surface of this place. I spent most of my time walking around the huge medieval medina. The Bab (Arabic for Gate) pictured below is very famous and is known as the Bab Boujaloud.

My walking tour of Fes was conducted by an earnest young man named Mohammed (I think I met 5 different Mohammeds while I was in Morocco). Although a very competent and knowledgable guide, he didn't have his official licence and we spent half the tour dodging the official guides who were threatening him for coming on their turf. Before he had to cut the tour short, we got to see the tanneries where all the leather comes from (Fes is particularly known as a source for leather goods). The tanneries are infamous for their odor, but since I can't post the odor to this blog you'll just have to take my word for it.

My last night in Morocco was spent in Rabat, the capital. I visited with a group of Peace Corps volunteers who were there to do their midservice medical checkups. We went out on the town and partied it up with the locals. This guy was known to us as the Moroccan Cowboy.

My last day in Morocco was spent chilling in Casablanca. Before the annexation of Morocco by the French in the early 20th century, Casablanca wasn't much to speak of. The French turned it into the economic center of their new colony and thus it is a very Western city, with no old medina. While there, I toured the gigantic Hassan II mosque, built by the father of the current king. It is the largest mosque in the world outside of Saudi Arabia, and stands somewhat bizarrely all by itself on the seaside, out by the port with only industrial warehouses as company. The mosque is breathtakingly beautiful, featuring the work of 10,000 Moroccan craftsmen who handmade all of the design elements inside and out. Despite this beauty, I personally felt a sterility in the extremely oversized dimensions of the place, which seemed to me built more to impress than as a place of devout spirituality.

And finally, for some sort of contrast, here is a street scene in Casablanca on the walk back from seeing the Hassan II Mosque.

My flight left at 11pm from Casablanca and arrived in Conakry, Guinea the next morning at 2:50am.....but that's a story for another post.

Some pictures of home

Here are some pictures from November in Mexico. My mom came down to meet her grandson and the rest of the family. Ramses was also baptised Catholic. Here is Ramses exploring the patio and living room with his intrepid duck companion, Pato.

Here is a video of Ramses taking a bath and playing with his Nana Paddy. The crazy bird noises are coming from Andrea's pet parrakeets, offscreen.

Andrea and Paddy. My mom made this quilt as a present for Andrea, Ramses' mom.

In Barra de Navidad there were many altars around town such as this one. They are dedicated to the Virgin Mary and are calling her to various households around the town. For a while, there was one in front of our house as well. Ramses' baptism. Andrea and I are on the right. The couple on the left are his godparents. My observation of Catholicism is that it likes to take its time. The service started at noon sharp and Ramses and the other children were not baptised until about an hour and a half later. Try entertaining a one year old on your lap for over an hour and trying to keep him quiet during the service. But he perservered through it.

Here is a photo of the shelf where Andrea keeps all of Ramses' clothes and other things. I posted this photo to say thank you to all the wonderful people who gave me their hand-me-downs to give to Ramses. He wears them all. If you look closely, you may see something that formerly belonged to your child.

Here is a nice photo of Andrea, Ramses' mom.

Jesus and Andrea. Salud, grandpa.

Here are a few photos of Halloween in Boulder. My last day of work was Halloween day, which I thought was very fitting. Here is a photo of the Halloween contingent at my former place of employment, Martek.

Have you heard of the Naked Pumpkin Run in Boulder? Check it out at www.nakedpumpkinrun.org Guess who is behind the Jack-O-Lantern?