| Winter 1998 |
Tony
Zurlo, Editor
|
Vol.3,
No. 2
|
Lighting
Candles for Half a Century
1000
Peace Corps Volunteers for Nigeria
A Response: Mature Expertise for Nigeria
Tribes and Tribalism
Letters from Uncle Woblo
Impressions from a Visit to South Africa
Baule Art Through Western Eyes
Things Fall Apart
Award-Winning
Journalist Kwitny Dies
LIGHTING CANDLES FOR HALF A CENTURY
"It just seemed to be assumed that I would carry on the Peace Corps’ business after Shriver and his team left, and I did." As Acting Representative (Director) in Nigeria, Ashabranner traveled the country from Lagos to Kano and into the bush making site surveys of the schools receiving volunteers, checking on housing, school scheduling, and other conditions prior to the Nigeria I arrival in September 1961.
In 1962, Dr. Samuel Proctor became the first permanent Director, and Ashabranner returned to a staff position in Washington, DC.
"I was proud of the Peace Corps volunteer teachers I knew and worked with in Nigeria. They were pioneers in a very real way, tackling tough assignments and finding ways to do what the Peace Corps expected of them," he writes in his published, The Times of My Life.
Days after his return to Washington, Shriver recruited Ashabranner for the India program. He served as Deputy Director for two years and as Director 1964-66. Having completed his service in India, Ashabranner returned to Washington, first as Director of Training and finally as Deputy Director of the Peace Corps 1967-69. He was honored with the National Civil Service League Career Service Award Citation in 1968 for his "administrative skill in designing constructive programs of self-help as an essential contribution toward peace for all mankind."
With the change of administration in 1968, Ashabranner resigned from the government and signed on with the Ford Foundation. He was officer-in-charge of the Foundation’s Philippines program 1972-75 and Deputy Director of the Indonesian program 1976-80.
Throughout his "second life" overseas, Ashabranner always had his family with him, Martha teaching in the schools and helping her husband with his writing projects, and his two daughters experiencing an exceptionally enriching childhood. The girls attended schools in Ethiopia, Libya, Nigeria, and India before graduating from high school in Maryland.
"Martha still travels with me, helps with interviews, sometimes takes photographs for my books and articles, and reads my manuscripts with a critical and practiced eye."
Ashabranner’s daughters have gone on to successful careers of their own. Melissa graduated from Temple University with a degree in anthropology and completed a master’s in public and private management at Yale University. She and husband Jean-Keith started a Washington community newspaper, Hill Rag, which is "a major voice on Capital Hill." Melissa collaborated with her father on Into a Strange Land and Counting America: The Story of the United States Census.
Jennifer is a professional, small-pet groomer and an award-winning photographer whose work has appeared in New York Times, USA Today, Parenting, and in textbooks. She and her father have worked together on several books, including Always to Remember, A Memorial for Mr. Lincoln and A Grateful Nation: The Story of Arlington National Cemetery.
Always a writer at heart, Brent Ashabranner claims he is in the middle of his "third life." Born in 1921, in Shawnee, Oklahoma, Ashabranner attended schools in El Reno and Bristow, OK, and got his bachelor’s at Oklahoma A&M. After four years in the Navy, he returned to Oklahoma A&M where he completed his master’s and taught English until 1956. His "second life," began when the Point Four program invited him to help create books and reading material for Ethiopian schools. After 25 years of international service, he retired in 1981, and began his "third life" in Williamsburg, VA, using "this quiet and wonderfully-rich cradle of American democracy as a base for writing about and interpreting the American experience."
Finally, retired at sixty-one, Ashabranner returned full-time to his earliest love—writing. He had already established himself as a successful writer, with many short stories to his credit. With Russell Davis, his Point Four partner in Ethiopia, Ashabranner published The Lion’s Whiskers in 1959. This popular introduction to, and collection of, Ethiopian folk tales was revised and published again in 1996. During the sixties, he and Davis co-authored several other children’s books and two novels.
The American Library Association (ALA) selected six of his books as Notable Children’s Books—-The New Americans: Changing Patterns in U.S. Immigration; Gavriel and Jemal: Two Boys of Jerusalem; Dark Harvest: Migrant Farmworkers in America; Children of the Maya: A Guatemalan Indian Odyssey; Into a Strange Land : Unaccompanied Refugee Youth; and Always to Remember: The Story of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. The ALA has named To Live in Two Worlds: American Indian Youth Today and Always to Remember as Best Books for Young Adults.
Three times, the National Council for the Social Studies awarded him the Carter G. Woodson Award for Non-Fiction for books that depict ethnicity in the U.S., and an Outstanding Merit Book Award two other years. He won the Boston Globe Horn Book award for Dark Harvest.
In 1990, he was awarded the Washington Post Children’s Book Guild Award for his career in nonfiction. His book with Russell G. Davis The Choctaw Code won the 1995 Oklahoma Center for the Book Award for Best Children/Young Adult Book.
In 1996, the National Council of Teacher’s of English recommended for children, his book about the Great Plains Indians in exile, A Strange and Distant Shore.
Today, Ashabranner’s books are required or optional reading in courses from fourth grade through university. McGraw-Hill’s Spotlight on Literature lesson plans for grades six and seven include his books To Live in Two Worlds: American Indian Youth Today and Always to Remember. His book An Ancient Heritage, covering the experiences of Arab-Americans and Arab immigration to the U.S., is recommended reading by Cindy Chang, University of Washington, English as a Second Language Center, Seattle.
Always to Remember is recommended by Childlit in its Bibliography on Vietnam and the War prepared by Kay E. Vandergrift, Associate Professor, School of Communication Information and Library Studies at Rutgers University. The New Americans is used in a writing and reading course and a geography course on race and ethnicity at the University of California Berkeley.
Still a Nation of Immigrants is used in courses on immigration in many secondary schools across the country. The New Americans is on a short list of readings for the Yale-New Haven Teachers Institute’s program "Home A Celebration of Cultural Richness in Our Community" by Cynthia H. Roberts. The list is endless and would require an entire newsletter.
His writing style is deceptively modest and silently smooth, drawing readers immediately into his story. Here’s just one example: "In Jerusalem the sun shines with a blinding brightness, making the ancient city a place of light. The sun washes over the Western Wall, that fragment of Herod’s Temple most beloved to Jews, and makes the huge worn stones look almost white. The sun sends flashing spears of light from the Dome of the Rock, precious shrine of Islam. It gives a tawny glow, the color of a lion’s hide, to the walls of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Christianity’s most sacred place." (Gavriel and Jemal 9).
After studying this man’s life and works, and reading his memoirs and his book about the Peace Corps, A Moment in History: The First Ten Years of the Peace Corps, I must conclude that Brent Ashabranner is an extraordinary man, not just for his successful multiple careers, but especially for his modesty in our age of vanity. Searching carefully for any hint of self-promotion in his writings will lead readers down a dead-end trial. Reading his books reveals one overwhelming characteristic, pointed out by a reviewer of his book Our Beckoning Borders: Illegal Immigration to America: "The compassion and understanding of the author are apparent throughout."
The topics he writes about and his writing style reflect the dignity of the man. Recognizing his refined style and vast international experience, I asked Ashabranner why he never wrote for the adult commercial market so he could make his million. His answer reflects his humanitarian nature, but, even more significantly, it reveals the power of writing on his own life.
"It is only in childhood that books have a deep influence on us. As adults we may enjoy books and learn from them, but they do not at that time change or influence our behavior, the way our lives take shape."
The Christophers, founded by Father James Keller, M.M., over 50 years ago, presented Ashabranner with a Christopher Award in 1988 for his book Into a Strange Land. These awards are "presented to the producers, directors and writers of books, motion pictures and television specials which affirm the highest values of the human spirit." Their motto is "It’s better to light one candle than to curse the darkness."
Ashabranner has been lighting candles for 57 years. Rather than cynically condemn society for its many sins, Ashabranner has written tirelessly to brighten the minds of all young Americans. And for Lithuanians, Haitians, Native Americans, Southeast Asians, Hispanics, and for all the other ethnic minorities he has written about, Ashabranner has "one overriding hope....that the people I write about will emerge as human beings whose lives are real and valuable and who have a right to strive for decent lives."
See
http://www.childrensbookguild.org/Ashabranner.html for an
introduction to his work.
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1000 VOLUNTEERS FOR NIGERIA
Initial Features for the 1000 PC Volunteers/ Nigeria project:
1) A single, focused field of assignment: education (both primary and secondary schools?).
2) Recruiting recently-graduated volunteers (lots of BA generalists), as well as mid-career and retired teachers (go to AARP and the teacher unions).
3) Trainees intensely trained in teaching skills before they leave U.S. (a crash course).
4) Further in-country orientation and training.
5) Regular in-country teaching workshops and clinics.
6) On-going training and support through Distance Learning via the internet leading towards a portable American Teaching Certificate.
7) Through the National Peace Corps Association, a volunteer support base on the Internet (Americans lining up behind individual Nigerian students). A related support element could be a school-to-school buddy system between cooperating American public schools and Nigerian sister-schools.
8) A partnership relationship with Apple Computer.
9) To manage the Peace Corps end of things, a separate Nigerian Task Force inside the Peace Corps to be funded by American oil companies....All other Administrative costs to be picked up by Nigerian government based on existing formulas and experience with other countries.
10) A clear and positive plan for in-country security for volunteers.
11) In order to jump-start this project soon, Peace Corps could send in a few Crisis Corps people in several skill areas. This would help in four interlocking ways. First, it would show our government’s right-now interest in the future (the rebirth) of Nigeria. Second, with the governmental and local connections it would make, Peace Corps would gain valuable information about how to structure its future relationship with Nigeria. Third, within a few months, Peace Corps would have a firsthand knowledge of the security situation facing Nigerian PCVs. Fourth, it would demonstrate to skeptics that a large teaching program would work.
12) FON could secure a contract with Peace Corps to seek out and identify those Nigerian RPCVs who would be willing to go in soon for a stint, perhaps for a year as Peace Corps Associates (an old moniker). Perhaps better than the Peace Corps funding this FON talent search would be an American oil company.
13) The Congressional Black Caucus, down the line and towards the Nigerian election could be a source of project support.
14) Initial DC-based discussion group needed to piece this thing together: Chuck Baquet, Maureen Carroll, Joan Timoney, Roger Landrum, Tim Carroll, Walter Carrington, C. Payne Lucas, Gerry Schwinn, Delano Lewis, Marge Snoeren (RPCV FONs, et al). A dinner with the above list at an Ethiopian restaurant might be good way to begin?
15) The first Peace Corps country director should/could be a Nigeria RPCV. This provides good symmetry: the volunteers return to their second home, Nigeria. However, this feature could give way if an American of formidable national stature would take the job. Someone who would bring the press along with her or his appointment. In any event, this appointment should be outside the usual Peace Corps process.
16) A primary goal: the new Nigerian president, on his first day of office, to meet for 15 minutes with the Director of the Peace Corps to announce the 1000 PC Volunteers for Nigeria project.
17)
The new Nigerian president could meet the plane carrying the first volunteers.
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For example, three projects that I devote much of my time to are Save the Rainforest Foundation, Conductive Education—a strategy to work with severely motor-impaired people, particularly pre-school and school-age children, which has incredible success with people reaching both physical and cognitive potentials—and Reggio Emila—an approach to pre-school and early-school education which focuses on communication through the arts which grows into language literacy.
With my experiences and knowledge in these areas, I could work at hooking up Nigerian individuals and agencies—possibly government agencies—with these groups and work to see that meaningful conversations and projects emerge. With this approach, I don't impose an American vision of what is good for Nigeria. I offer to grow a network of contacts, to link up on-going American concerns with various segments of Nigeria.
If 1000 of us took on such an effort—possibly coordinated by Peace Corps or FON, possibly another agency or even an individual—we could share our maturity and collective expertise with equal numbers of Nigerians. The ripple effect from this effort would be felt into the third generation and would not be so dependent on American or Nigerian government dispositions.
We would work toward something that grows from our experience and knowledge, rather than repeat or copy something that we did almost 40 years ago.
I appreciate Tom Hebert’s proposal. It has caused me to reflect on how it could be made more powerful.
Possibly,
my ideas would allow us to eventually construct something that all of us can
agree is worthy of our time and effort.
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Many anthropologists and Africanists, however, consider the use of the words "tribe" and "tribalism" to be inappropriate. The continued use of these words in the media prompted me to submit this article (although I may be guilty of preaching to the choir).
Why is the use of these words objectionable? First, speakers and writers typically use these words only when referring to groups of people who they view as somehow inferior to themselves.
But you may ask, "Do not the Igbos and Yorubas belong to different tribes?" To which I would reply, "Do the Prussians and Bavarians of Germany belong to different tribes? Do the Flemish and Walloons of Belgium belong to different tribes? Is it tribalism that has been tearing apart Northern Ireland, or the central issue that divides French- and English-speaking Canadians? Why do no Europeans belong to a tribe or engage in tribalism?"
Confronting people with questions such as these produces a variety of responses. Some do think that tribes are groups of primitive people. Others think that tribes refer only to smaller groups of people and are taken aback, for example, when they learn that Yoruba speakers far outnumber Norwegian, Danish or Dutch speakers.
The very selective use of the words "tribe" and "tribalism" points to their essentially pejorative or offensive character.
A second objection to the use of these words is based on their history. Two short articles on the web that focus on the relatively recent origins of the concept of tribe and to the fundamentally imprecise and ambiguous meaning of this word are: The Invention of Tribalism and "Tribe" and "Tribalism". As one writer put it, "The term tribe is more likely to reinforce stereotypes than to provide insight." And another, "The term [tribe] had no validity in the pre-colonial period. It has less legitimacy now."
We will be doing both Africa and the United States a big favor if we help to rid our vocabularies of these two words.
Editor’s
Note: Peter Hansen taught chemistry to science, pharmacy, and agriculture
students at the University of Ife in both Ibadan and Ile-Ife. He now teaches
chemistry to liberal arts students at Northwestern College in Orange City, IA.
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Many Nigerians have experienced dark, stormy years that have not let up. Others, including those of us who live abroad, have seen dry, harsh times that, like the Harmattan, come and go with no respite. But in all, none could have predicted the sobering events that have kept some of Nigeria's brilliant minds overseas.
There were signs along the way, incidents, some of them miniscule that forewarned us of coming events. But most Nigerians, including me, were blind to these forecasts. For me, the signs lay buried in my uncle's letters. At first, Uncle Wobo's letters bore simple instructions and advice:
"Do not marry a foreigner. They do not know how to raise their children to sit quietly by the elder's feet, specially when such children are born with black skin and blue eyes. I say marry your kind." I was bewildered, but Uncle Wobo persisted.
"Do not curse or slap a policeman," he wrote, "they're unkind to black men in America."
"Do not eat hamburger, the white man's food that caused Onuma's son to grow fat aimlessly."
"Stay focused. And keep out of trouble." Months before, my sister, Nkechi, called to say Uncle Wobo had consulted with the oracle and offered sacrifices of kola-nut and a rooster to the gods for my success in studies while in America and toward my safe return to my people, by the feet of my elders. She told me that Uncle Wobo had explained with glee, chest puffed, "It is proper to remove any doubt about our son's success and his return from battle."
Nigerians' journeys overseas have indeed been battles. The problem is, most of the warriors did not know they'd been ensnared and drafted to fight for their fatherland. Or to sweat in order to acquire the difference between my ancestor's knowledge of the oracle and cockcrow and the white man's bird of flight. The battle still rages between our two worlds, between two cultures. Only our leaders keep holding back or forget to issue the spears and arrows, needed munitions and reinforcement, for our people’s imminent victory. But before these happenstance came to be, Uncle Wobo's letters bore testament to their coming in strange ways, like writing on the wall.
Then, as the years wore on, as our leaders faltered. Uncle Wobo tired, and his tone gradually changed. He began urging me toward "painted lips" and jobs in America, both forbidden fruits that shackled me, and Nigerians like me, to foreign lands.
"You must set aside the views not to date American women," he later wrote, "even though they do not understand when to nod in greetings." What happened? I wondered.
"But be cautious," his letter warned. "Your mother insisted there can be no marriage." I recalled her warning: "Marriage to tight jeans steals the thoughts of our best warriors and leave our daughters unwed." But wait! Uncle Wobo must have other reasons. So, I promptly wrote back trying to find out why his change of mind. His next letter read, "The soldiers have struck again. The banks have closed their doors. I cannot send money, so your salvation rests on your shoulders. Maybe your American girlfriend can help." Four uneventful years passed during which I wondered about my village and those like it, with its lush tropical mango and palm trees. In deja vu, I'd replay images of my childhood and of my uncle in his farmer's hat, and of those like him wearing faded loincloths on their way to work. At those times I'd put aside the thought of my place within the order of things. But, I never ceased wondering if Nigerian leaders would ever care about the welfare of their own countrymen like the Americans or Europeans do. Then, one day, I wrote Uncle Wobo about my plan to come home.
"No," he quickly answered. "The situation has gotten worse. Toughs ply the airports. Soldiers and the police have become brazen, sometimes acting as judge, jury and executioner. Without the courtroom, their brand of justice can be swift. Just last week, Okafor's son who came from America was shot at a checkpoint because he asked why he was stopped.
"You must wait a bit longer," he continued. "You must play it safe. Besides, there are no jobs at home. Danjuma's son, with three degrees from England, has no job. He still treks around searching for a position, in his worn shoes and blue suit." I waited. Two years ago I felt anxious when I wrote Uncle Wobo about my plans to marry my American fiancée.
"Go ahead," he wrote back, "for you might be better off. I can no longer trust some of the young girls here at home, who have begun to sell their morality on the streets. It is not their fault. The blame must be placed on the arrogant shoulders of our leaders, who never cared to set good standards.
"Our leaders created no jobs. But on a whim— between the chatter of the gray parrot—they closed the colleges with nothing for girls to do." I married my American fiancée. Then I became a writer. I sent word that I thought I could contribute toward making a difference at home.
"No," Uncle Wobo answered with alarm. "Don't be blind to the events in Nigeria. Wole Soyinka fled. No one has seen Ekwensi or Achebe. Nigerian secret police and snoops go after people like you using intimidation and parcel bombs to scare them from unselfish thoughts that may result in good changes. Just send money to your mother when you can." For a while Uncle Wobo did not write. Uneasy, I held my peace. A kind of truce. Then he called, his voice music to my ears.
"Allah has answered our cries," he sang, "In his infinite wisdom, he has brought us a new leader, Abubakar. This man has bravery and commitment. He has asked Nigerians to come home, and they're to speak their mind. No snoops. He promised to create much needed good image for our country." Uncle Wobo paused, I caught my breath.
"Our
dearest Nigerian son must be encouraged," he continued. Everyone must
pledge his or her support and d knowledge to Nigeria. For it is time to sacrifice
for our country. Abubakar must succeed." I clapped and clicked my heels
and began packing. We must answer the call.
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This was the first major international education conference to be held in South Africa since 1935. This forum enabled scholars in the field of international education to focus on issues like culture, curriculum, gender, indigenous education, language, literacy, national integration, peace and justice education, special needs, teacher education and other issues of immediate concern in the reconstruction of the mission and practice of education in post-Apartheid South Africa.
A highlight of our journey was a reunion with Dr. Mokubung Nkomo who also attended the conference to present a collaborative research paper on gender and status attainment in plural societies. In the 1960's, Mokubung left his home in South Africa for Swaziland to seek a better secondary education, which was denied him under Apartheid because of his race. He then came to the United States to complete his education, earning a doctorate from the University of Massachusetts.
Mokubung taught with distinction at the University of North Carolina and directed the South Africa Partnership Program at the New School for Social Research in New York City. Two of his books published in the 1980s, Student Culture and Activism in Black South African Universities: The Roots of Resistance and Pedagogy for Domination: Toward a Democratic Education in South Africa have been influential in focusing international attention on the role of education in the transformation of South African society. While engaged in graduate study he co-authored a curriculum guide developed by a Teacher Corps project, which introduced African Studies in the Providence School Department where he directed an alternate and transitional high school for inner city youth. He also was an invited lecturer on South Africa in the African Studies Program at Rhode Island College. Today Mokubung has returned to his native land to join the effort to build a new South Africa as Director of the Education Section of the Human Sciences Research Council.
After the conference, we began our travels on the Trans-Karoo Express between Cape Town and Pretoria. Our trip concluded with a visit to Pietermaritzburg, the town in Kwa-Zulu Natal where Gandhi’s ejection from a first class rail coach in 1893 led him to conceive the strategy for non-violent resistance, which later brought the British Raj in India to its knees. Before returning to India in 1914, Gandhi spent twenty years battling legislation in South Africa that discriminated against Indians.
By contrast, the rails beneath me on the way to Pretoria were to have been the first leg of the Cape to Cairo railroad envisioned by Cecil Rhodes, the great schemer of British imperial expansion in Africa. His railroad plans ran out of steam somewhere in Central Africa far short of Cairo. Yet some of Rhodes’ legacy, the development of agriculture, mining and transportation, continues to serve as the backbone of South Africa’s economy.
Today, this is a country of profound contrasts on the threshold of transformation; the mix includes diverse cultures, great extremes of inequality and a juxtaposition of traditional and modern economies. However, both Gandhi’s experience and the long entrenchment of settler colonialism before and during Apartheid remind us that South Africa has witnessed one of the tightest linkages of racism with power in recent history. Many people here in my generation were systematically denied the educational opportunity to achieve their full potential because of their race. Today, thankfully, they are more certain and hopeful that the future will give their children a better chance.
South Africa is only beginning what will undoubtedly be a long journey of national reconstruction. It is a time when much healing is needed. The vision is to create a rainbow nation. What that will mean in terms of policy development will emerge through a process of political negotiation and competition between groups and parties. There will be a long road to travel before anything close to equality of opportunity for all can be realized because at present the gaps are wide.
However, a giant stride forward has occurred in the last decade, for today all South Africans have gained the freedom to struggle within the political system to advance their well-being. That fundamental right was denied by the old order, which, before 1990, made race the basis by which a minority imposed its power and domination over the majority. I, for one, am hopeful that the new South Africa will find a peaceful road to social justice and economic stability for all its people.
Editor’s
Note: The author is Professor and Director of the Curriculum Resources Center.
His research fields are in Educational Studies with focus on history and cultural
foundations of education and international education.
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BAULE ART THROUGH WESTERN EYES
Baule, which began life at Yale University Art Gallery, is displayed on two levels. Approximately 135 19th and 20th century objects are beautifully set and lighted, and traditional African music animates the viewing. There are also field photographs and two videos, a masquerade-entertainment and a performance by trance dancers. A diorama lights up to reveal a masquerade dancer that is suddenly six feet from the viewer. In a second, the viewer is suddenly standing in a richly decorated funerary bedroom.
Baule art can be divided into two broad categories: the everyday, visible objects, and the occasionally seen, ceremonial ones. To the visible category, belong carved shutters and doors, pots and spoons, weights and loom beaters—the billboards of Baule artists.
Masks, statues, gong mallets and other ceremonial objects, including gold funerary objects kept in family shrines, are seen less. Women have their gender-exclusive, power-giving dance, adya nun, and men have their power-giving gods, bo nun amuin. To spy on opposite-gender rituals brings sickness and death. Other objects are seen only during entertainment masquerades, from celebrations of living, admired people, to funerals for those who die old and admired.
In their bedrooms, people keep "spirit spouses", carvings of idealized gender-types representing one’s spouse left behind in another world at birth. These teach the owner to be a better spouse, but the relationship is also satisfyingly romantic. There are other "spirit figures," worn by trance dancers: male and female human figures and fierce animal and human hybrids. These hybrids look a lot like the "spirit spouses", except for the traces of sacrifices—skin and blood—seen on the former. The resemblance is less surprising when one learns that the "wild spirit figures" call disturbed people in the villages to reason by making them fear their own wildness, even as they suggest model behavior. Trance dancers guide the afflicted into controlled, socially useful trances, after which the afflicted can themselves become trance dancers.
Baule informant Kofi Nguessan writes, "We live with the spirits more than with the statues ... and that is why you will never hear a Baule say, 'This is a beautiful sculpture.' That is not what they are looking for in the statue or the mask—even though it is beautiful." The verb for ‘look’ is not applied to Baule art objects. Rather, you nia—watch an entertainment masquerade, as you would, say, a soccer match— admiring the rehearsed, theatrical, choreographed performance of which the art objects are an aspect.
To bridge the Baule and Western ways of looking at African art, I suggest an RPCV hybrid aesthetic in which each category of object, defined by use, has its own perfect type against which particular objects can be measured.
Take two examples from the show. First is a figure representing the male ideal. A 19th century wood carving about 22 inches high, the figure radiates peaceful vitality. It may have been made to help cure a mentally ill man. It has symmetry of form, but not rigid symmetry. The three-forked beard in the top third is echoed by the spread fingers on the belly, in the middle, and by the spread toes, at the bottom. The figure is both square and rounded, and is slightly off kilter. To me, its beauty suggests an attainable ideal because it is imperfect.
The second example is the object I found most striking among the many striking objects in this superb show. A 16-to-18-inch statue made of wood, cloth and prehistoric stone celt, this is a hooded figure of a silently screaming person, probably female, with a platform on top for sacrifices. This figure would have been seen very infrequently by any Baule and reminds me of the supremely gorgeous nightmares of Western art, such as Goya's black paintings. Its maker knew how to thrill and frighten.
Baule: African Art/Western Eyes runs until January 3, and includes lecture, film, and video series, as well as special family programs. The outstanding catalogue by Susan M. Vogel (Yale U. Press, New Haven, 1997, $45) is available through the gift shop, 212-966-1313, ext.115 or www.africanart.org.
ANOTHER AFRICA: Photographs by Robert Lyons, Essay and Poems by Chinua Achebe (Anchor Books, New York, 1998, $35).
October 29, the Museum threw a grand party for Robert Lyons and Chinua Achebe. It began about 6:30 with a standard-issue cocktail party: bubbly, snacks, dim lighting. Two musicians played amplified-Malian percussion. The crowd—African, American, academics, pols, art folk—milled and networked.
I talked to an Igbo guard who told me about Frederick Forsyth's book on Biafra and expressed a wait-and-see response to current Nigerian political events; to a professor from New Hampshire who had undergone a long day's drive to see his friend, Achebe; to a banker who was there as a curious substitute for an invited friend; to a woman who said FON should go to the Schomburg Collection; and to a Board Co-Chair who told me the museum had run a tour to Nigeria, where an important Edo chief got it access to ceremonies.
Just before eight, Achebe showed up. Dressed in a long buba and black pants, with rimless glasses, a black leather glove on his left hand, and a red felt fila, Achebe was wheeled in by a former schoolmate. Then came two women in African dress, a busy-suave-looking young man with a camera, and a delightful girl of, perhaps, eight. In sum, any RPCV would have been reminded of a chief and his entourage.
I joined the line to greet the master and, when my turn came, offered an inane justification for accosting the famous—how I had read his books in Peace Corps training, then taught them. Achebe is past master of politesse.
Half an hour later, the event moved to a downstairs gallery, where about a dozen of Lyons' ninety, brightly colored photos from Another Africa were on display. Portraits predominate, one or two of the theatrical poses evoking my own students' photo ops. There is a row of women in Kente cloth having their temperatures taken—the viewer is unsure whether to laugh or cry.
The museum president made opening remarks: eight million copies of Things Fall Apart are in print, in fifty languages. Robert Lyons reviewed the genesis of Another Africa, saying the book aims to bridge gaps by depicting everyday, universal life, and thanked his collaborator, who was wheeled to the microphone.
After receiving a standing ovation Achebe began by saying, "Africa already has too much atmosphere," then stated his own preference for argument, a preference, which was a trait, the early colonial British disliked in the Igbo. As Lyons had, Achebe went into the genesis of Another Africa. Looking at the photos, he had found himself writing an argumentative essay, which seemed an odd accompaniment. Achebe wryly explained that, in order to give Lyons a graceful exit, he had then contracted a grave illness, which delayed his part of the book. But Lyons stayed the course and, here, a year late, was the book.
That essay of thirteen pages begins: "It is a great irony of history that Africa, whose land mass is closer than any other to the mainland of Europe, should come to occupy in European psychological disposition the farthest point of otherness." Returning to the Heart of Darkness controversy and ranging from Gainsborough's portrait of Ignatius Sancho to the birth of a Ghanaian on a PBS special, the essay concludes with a warning about looking at other cultures: "...when we are comfortable and inattentive, we run the risk of committing grave injustices absentmindedly."
Achebe then treated us to a sample of three poems from the book. He reads clearly and with feeling in soft, lovely, Ibo-inflected English. In one poem, he described a mother combing her son's hair, as she had always done before giving him his breakfast and sending him off to school. But now, in a refugee camp, with the child very sick, "she did it like putting flowers on a tiny grave." These poems, like Lyons' photographs, capture disparate facets of contemporary African society and politics in small, often lyrical details. Achebe's poetry seems quite like his more familiar, poetic prose.
To tie this double review in a bow, Achebe's warning informs both Another Africa and Buale: African Art/Western Eyes. The work being done at and through the Museum for African Art is attentive and judicious. And delightful.
WEB SITES for Chinua Achebe:
http://nutmeg.ctstateu.edu/personal/faculty/francis/Achebe.html
http://splavc.spjc.cc.fl.us/hooks/ew/tfa/wrightTFA.html
http://www.sdsmt.edu/courses/is/hum375/achebe.html
http://www.stg.brown.edu/projects/hypertext/landow/post/achebe/achebehov.html
http://www.uga.edu/~womanist/1995/mezu.html
THE MUSEUM FOR AFRICAN ART, 593 Broadway, New York, NY 10012. Open Tuesday through Friday, 10:30-5:30; Saturday, 12-8, Sunday, 12-6. Closed Mondays and holidays.
The
museum mounts exhibitions (some of which travel), publishes catalogues, sponsors
trips to Africa, runs educational programs, and has a fine gift shop.
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"The fierce beauty of Chuck Mike's production is at once a celebration and a requiem for the Nigeria of the Soul," said the Times of London.
"What makes it such a rich story is that [playwright Biyi] Bandele preserves all the essentials of Achebe's story while the production conveys the sense that we are watching an elegy both for an individual and a society," raved The Guardian.
Dubbed a multi-cultural play—Nigerian, British and American collaboration (Mike, the director, is an American ex-pat living in Nigeria)—it's coming to the Kennedy Center, Washington, D.C., February 3-7; New Jersey Performing Arts Center, Newark, February 10-21, McCarter Theater, Princeton, February 23; Aaron Davis Hall of City College of New York, Harlem, Feb. 25-28, and New World Theater, University of Massachusetts, March 2-4.
"Flores," Conjunto Cespedes (Xenophile Records) Cuban son meets African drums with cha-cha horns thrown in for good measure. A complete amalgam of Latin dance music and Yoruba traditions.
"Live in New York," Los Munequitos de Matanzas (Qbadisc Records) A more elemental mix; dancers and singers (with hand percussion), plus conga drummers in music as likely to echo Juju rituals as Santeria ones.
"Raices Africanas (African Roots)," Grupo Afro Cuba (Shanachie Records) Simply the closest Cuban music gets to Oshogbo. Try a blindfold test and you'll think you're back in Nigeria.
Puzzler No. 2: Ossie Davis (as producer-director) made a film of a Wole Soyinka play. What play, and who played the title character?
AWARD-WINNING JOURNALIST KWITNEY DIES
After Jon’s return to the States he had a distinguished career as an investigative journalist. He joined the Wall Street Journal in 1971 where he contributed hundreds of front-page feature columns and was able to continue his passion for travel in the process.
After 17 years with the Wall Street Journal he, Jon moved to PBS and produced the award-winning Kwitny Report. Shortly after joining the Wall Street Journal he began writing books that utilized his investigative skills. Over 10 of them were published—the most recent in 1997 entitled Man of the Century: The Life and Times of Pope John Paul II. A quick trip to amazon.com will give you a feel for the importance of the topics he wrote about and his success in writing about them.
In addition to his professional life, he was the father of two daughters and two sons, and a grandfather. He had a full life and died knowing he had lived well.
When Jon returned to the states from his Peace Corps service, he continued his courtship of Martha Kaplan (his first wife). They had dated prior to his joining the Peace Corps, and when Jon was feeling particularly lonely in Benin City he would lament having left Martha behind. Martha had congenial kidney problems and after the birth of their younger daughter Susanna she went on dialysis. She died in 1978 and Jon raised the girls alone.
He met his second wife Wendy Wood a little over 6 years ago. Wendy and Jon were married 5 years ago in a wonderful, woodsy ceremony at their house in Cuddebackville, NY. Two boys followed, the oldest is nearly 2 years old and the baby is now 5 months.
While in Nigeria, Jon and I had a motorcycle adventure leaving by ferry from Calabar and touring Cameroon. The high point, literally was climbing the mountain. We rode his Honda 250, which broke down in a small village on our way back to the Nigerian border. We were able to continue thanks to a German-trained mechanic in the village who tuned the engine by listening to it. John and I celebrated the 25th anniversary of the Peace Corps in 1991 by riding a motorcycle over to the Nigeria XIII reunion from Baltimore.
He lives in my memory as someone who packed in 18-20 hour days. He was always extending himself to the limits of his physical endurance. Peace Corps training in 1964 included a cross-country run. Jon pushed himself to near collapse and nausea. He worked hard and it showed in the number of by-lines he racked up while with the Wall Street Journal, the number of books he published, the number of weekly shows he put together for the Kwitny Report on PBS, and finally in the number of lives he touched.
Even in his personal interactions he held to the journalistic ideal of presenting facts and not editorializing. He was full of warmth and affection during greetings and good-byes. His sense of humor was always present with a hearty laugh.
But, when he narrated experiences or began to talk about "serious matters", he did so with a poker face; as if he couldn’t allow his passions to be involved. Those who later watched him in his television series would recognize this quality.
During the Benin City period I learned that Jon had two heroes—Woody Guthrie and Theodore Roosevelt. I felt Jon admired Guthrie’s ability to communicate through the lyrics of his songs. Guthrie was a master wordsmith who could sing about social and political injustice with a clarity and succinctness that put most journalists to shame. Jon would often bring out his guitar and sing folk songs.
During the late 60s and early 70s he admired Bob Dylan. But his interest in Dylan changed abruptly when Dylan broke from his "folk" roots and went acoustic. His love of Guthrie was present in the naming of his son four years ago—Bob "Woody" Kwitny.
I think Jon admired Roosevelt’s zest for life. Jon emulated him in his ability to commit his all to a project. Jon would have enjoyed the life of the Rough Rider and his joining the adventure and exotic travel that was part of the Peace Corps experience may have been the Rough Rider equivalent for him.
The "Peace" portion of the organization wasn’t a major factor in Jon’s decision to join. In fact, Jon has the distinction of being the only PCV I ever met that was vocal in his support of the US involvement in the Vietnam conflict. I think he later changed his mind, but in 1965 he accepted the need of the government to wage a war to protect American interests. In retrospect, this was entirely consistent with his embracing Teddy Roosevelt who extended US interests in Latin America.
In
the late 80s, Jon introduced me to another fantasy that was inspired by Roosevelt.
He proposed we retrace Roosevelt’s trip down the Amazon. Family and job responsibilities
kept us from this adventure but if I ever get to the rapids at the Peruvian
headwaters Jon will be there with me.
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