Goree Island- a story in photos (part 2)

Goree Island- a story in photos (part 1)

Joan's Thoughts on Migration -in Detroit and Dakar

Charity, Lizzy, and I received quite a welcome upon arriving in Senegal.  We stepped off the plane into early, dark morning, cool air, but much warmer than Detroit.  Going through customs took but moments.  We had no need even for visas.  With our American passports we entered the country freely and easily, and were greeted more than warmly.

In the short walk from customs to bag claim and then outdoors to find our taxi we got offer after offer after inquiry: “Do you need a taxi?” “Where are you from?” “Do you need to make a call?” “Can I help you carry that?” “What is your name?”  Such friendly curiosity, we were overwhelmed. 

At the World Social Forum, I found a play on “L’Immigration Clandestine.” Illegal Immigration.  The play started with four men sneaking off to a fishing boat they were planning to take it from Senegal to Europe.  Two other men played narrators, asking the migrating men what they were leaving and why, what they hoped to find, and imploring them to seek out alternatives that were safer and better for their families and country.  There were five women also, who pleaded with the men to stay, to reconsider the danger of the journey, to remember their families, to truly see the hardship they would face once in Europe.  

It was a beautiful play.  The men were stubborn and frustrated with their lack of opportunity in Senegal, and clearly fearful of drowning on the journey.  The women were broken hearted and left-behind, and the narrators wise.  But it is treacherous to sail from Senegal to Europe in a fishing boat.  The audience felt this, and all were afraid for the lives of these migrants.

Just weeks before leaving for Dakar and the World Social Forum a neighbor was picked up by ICE, and I wish the hearing I witnessed had been a play and not real life.  He has two young children and a two month old baby who is sick.  He had no lawyer, the judge was demeaning, and she questioned him on things he has every right to protect.  Though he was under oath, he lied in answering her questions.  He lied out of need to protect his family, and out of fear for what may yet happen to them. 

Going back quickly to the men in the play, even if they had reached Italian beaches they would not have received the greeting that Lizzy, Charity, and I did.  Their passports do not merit a warm welcome and easy passage.  The inquiries that meet them will also send them home.  They are overwhelmed with a country that fears them and a system that calls them illegal.

Being in both Detroit and Dakar, it is clear that migration is surrounded, even influenced, by fear.  The simple acts of traveling, finding work, living life, are not in and of themselves threatening but done within the context of our immigration system can be costly and harmful.  This system has been built on our need for control and out of fear of the “other.”  The danger immigrants face, and the fear they are forced to live with is not their own, it is the welcome we give them so warmly.

Ahmina's Thoughts: Global Connnections

I wrote a journal entry while I was in the Social Movement Assembly that was on Thursday, February 10^th during the World Social Forum and have included it below…

So I’m sitting in the Social Movement Assembly and I have to write what I’m feeling.  There is so much energy and passion in this room of over 200 people.  The moderator went about reading the Declaration created during the World Social Forum and it is very powerful and on point.  The declaration made statements on climate justice, land grabs, food sovereignty, human trafficking, womens rights, and much more.  (I’ve included a link to the Declaration below) The energy of the room reminds me of when I saw Evo Morales speak this past December.  There’s a collective sense of hope and desire for change.

[World Social Forum: Declaration of the Social Movement Assembly]

After the declaration was read a Tunisian activist spoke about what was happening there, and the need for such revolution to happen around the world.  In the middle of his speech the announcement came that Mubareck was ousted.  The wave of elation that swept the room was amazing, the room was saturated with emotion!

Tunisian activist speaking at Social Movement Assembly

Although hearing from the Tunisian activist was a great moment, I found a simple statement made by a woman from Brasil the most insightful.  She said "Only local resistance will move us forward!" and that really resonated with me, on so many levels.  The entire week that I’ve been here I’ve been wondering how should we engage at this international level, and there was my answer.  Through continuing the work we’re doing in Detroit on the ground we are moving this global movement forward.  I kept wondering, where does EMEAC fit in, how should we act or be involved at the international level and by showing solidarity, continuing to fight and hold our government accountable for its policies that subjugate those in our country and worldwide, we ARE currently doing this.  So the work EMEAC does IS moving us forward! And we rely on our allies at the international level doing this work to be a part of those conversations within the U.N., WSF, and other spaces.  We are not able to do it all, and I have to acknowledge that meanwhile knowing our work IS furthering the movement.

Will Copeland's D2D Blog: Fourth Day Political Conversations

Today was a good day. So good, in fact, that if I had to go home today I’d stay the trip was still worth it. )I would be very disappointed that I didn’t see Goree Island that’s for later in the week) I had my first political conversation in French today! We touched on many topics related to the African Diaspora.

Old School and I were listening to music and he asked me about a line where Nas says that his father came from Egypt. I said I thought that was “symbolique” as many Black folks are referring to the cultural legacy of the Egyptians and not direct genetic descent. We then both agreed that Egypt has African roots- that its civilization comes from the South even though it is often treated like a separate part from the rest of Aftica. He asked if I were familiar with the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, who Dakar’s main University is named after and talked about Diop’s work establishing Africa as the cradle of civilization by showing how Wolof and other traditional languages have many of the same root words and sounds as ancient Egyptian languages.

I showed him a book by John Henrik Clarke, a Black American historian and explained how in the United States it is very controversial to use the term “African Holocaust.” He said he was familiar with the Jewish/ European Holocaust but thought that the term definitely applied as well to the forced migration that made up the slave trade and resulted in 50 million plus people being lost from the African Continent. Columbus paved the way for this holocaust in 1492 so he is quite irrationally credited with discovering America. Old School was surprised to learn that there is a holiday in the US. honoring Columbus and called it “ridiculous.”

He said “America is a land of contrasts and contradictions.” The discussion continued as he asked what I thought about Barack Obama.
I said I thought his policies were too much influenced by Republicans. So many Republicans cut too many services that people depend on with horrible social consequences. For example John Engler gutted funding for mental hospitals so now many former patients are now homeless or in jail. I said I thought Obama had too many compromises even though he is in a difficult situation because many Americans dislike having an intelligent Black person in a role of hierarchical superiority (I didn’t use so many big words in French). These cutbacks make it so that people without money can’t get the basics of life. I told him about the DTE utility shutoffs. He was horrified by the fact that 8-15 people die in Detroit each winter because they don’t have enough money to pay for heat. I showed him a picture of the DTE demonstration at the US Social Forum.

The supervising nurse joined in our conversation. She is a cool French woman who was a midwife before she worked in dialysis. I told her that I have a friend studying to become a midwife. I have great respect for midwives. She chimed in that it’s a shame that Obama’s hands are tied and that he cannot change the policies of the US.

This conversation made the dialysis session a lot of fun. It was a powerful experience to share.

First thoughts on Senegal (Lizzy)

I just copied these from my journal, so that's why this is all out of chronological order

First thoughts of Senegal

Feb 6, 2011

I am in Senegal, and I am blessed to be here. At moments today I was actually overjoyed.

Humid ocean air, thick and polluted, yet somehow refreshing. Old cars and old metal things. Twisted metal bars sticking out of concrete roofs, smelly sewers, children having a damn good time with rocks or sand, or just each other. GOATS so many goats. Women draped in gorgeous cloth carrying brooms or buckets or laundry or children. Lots and lots of men, just...hanging out.

Nothing is made from wood here. Apparently termites eat anything wooden so buildings are plaster with tile, or concrete. Everything is boxy- the buildings are boxes stacked closely together around the ocean. The colors are tan, gray, brown, and white. The roads and alleyways are sandy and narrow. The palm trees look thirsty.

I slept from 6 am til 1pm my first day and when I woke up Siwatu and Ahmina gave me their leftover lunch of rice and fish (SO GOOD) and I took it to the roof. The view was gorgeous and goaty and boxy and sandy and I could see the ocean disappearing into the sky.

Will, Siwatu, Ahmina, Joan, and I walked down to the beach. There was a huge mosque on the beach and we made the mistake of stepping on its grounds before some old men yelled at us. And then they yelled at Will and pointed at us ladies. Apparently they were saying we shouldn’t wear any pants. I nodded respectfully, and laughed for a while when we turned the corner.

Garbage was piled on the beach and women were walking to and from the ocean with their dirty kitchen water. Birds and goats were eating garbage along the shore. Little boys played soccer and horse carts scurried to and fro. It was dirty and public and alive. I thought it was kind of beautiful. Compared with pristine Lake Michigan beaches with no trespassing signs, no people, and oligatrophically desolate waters. Clean and empty and beautiful versus dirty and alive and beautiful.

Feb 7, 2011

Exhausted. I want to blog about the march – maybe I’ll do that in the morning. I want to blog about the political connections between Detroit and Dakar, land grabs, food security, racism, colonialism, disorganization of the forum, and Charity being kidnapped by the rural women.

I am so sunburned. I am so exhausted. Why did I think I could come to Africa with my pasty winter skin and not wear sunscreen? And then ask every other pasty skinned person along the march for some sunscreen like a fool? Kind of cool that most of the folks around me were African, since I was afraid I’d be around a bunch of French folks on activist-vacation. But yes, most folks around me did not have sunscreen, and I am sunburned. Very very sunburned.

The march was amazing and we got to march in front of the South African COSATU folks, and they sang and danced the whole way. I loved them. I love Project South. It was pretty exhilarating.

Exhausted.

Senegalese-American Bilingual School in Dakar (Lizzy)

Networking for EMEAC didn’t feel like work in Dakar Senegal – in this incredibly hospitable country just walking down the street, going to the clinic, or ordering a “shwarma poulet” meant I was bound to meet some outgoing folks, and bound to share laughs either in broken English or broken French. Thank goodness I didn’t have to get into a tizzy over elevator speeches or business card formalities, because participating in the World Social Forum at the University of Cheik Anta Diop meant I was constantly meeting (and colliding into, and stomping on the feet of) some of the 100,000 people from Senegal, from all over Africa, and from all around the world who were converging (and colliding, and careening) at the forum. There was no excuse and no room for shyness. So I ended up meeting a lot of people! We all did.

Charity was abducted/adopted by the Rural African Women’s group for an entire day and we didn’t know what happened to her until she came back to us dazed, speaking in Wolof, her arms full of sparkly gifts and baguettes. Will’s radio interview was cancelled because the power went out, and instead ended up free styling with the Black Eyed Peas of Dakar at the radio station. Everyone was attracted to Oya, and Joan knew half the people in Yoff. We all made a lot of friends with the Senegalese students at Chiek Anta Diop, and I have a feeling I’ll be in contact with them for a while. But it was Siwatu’s magnetic energy that connected us to Amath of the Senegalese-American Bilingual School (SABS) which was probably the most exciting Detroit 2 Dakar connection of the week for me. He was a fabulous guy (see the photo of us linking arms like true comrades) and invited us over to the school site to learn more.

An American woman from Baltimore, Stephanie Nails-Kane, founded SABS about 10 years ago.  It has a primary school, middle school, and high school that serves about 700 students. It was very exciting for us because 1) We could communicate with them in English and 2) They emphasized an environmental science curriculum in the schools.

We met with Stephanie, Amath, and their environmental science curriculum coordinator in her office. We didn’t get to take a tour of the school itself, but learned a lot about what they had going on. They owned a plot of land a few hours away from Dakar along the ocean, where students learned marine biology, pollution, and tended a mangrove forest. All students were taken for overnight trips to the environmental station. We talked about the importance of exposing and immersing city kids to nature, and compared the lack of green spaces in Detroit and Dakar. I wished so badly that we could’ve stayed another couple days to visit the environmental spot by the ocean. And I hope that soon EMEAC can have its own environmental center in Detroit so that our kids can have a similar experience.

At the school itself they were experimenting with hydroponics, recycling, and were in the midst of starting a composting program. They were starting composting programs in the families of the students, which I found interesting. It seemed like they were able to spearhead a lot of environmental programs at the school, since the administration was backing it up, and since they were a private school that had ultimate autonomy over its curriculum. 

Like Detroit, Dakar does not have a municipal recycling program. Recently the local government decided to move the landfills farther away from the city into the rural areas, so trash removal was more costly and less frequent. As a result, the city was attempting to recycle more in order to save money. (Hear that GDRRA? Recycling can SAVE MONEY) The school had a green team of mostly eighth grade students who recycled in the school. We met them in the office, and they explained their paper recycling program to us in perfect English. They were such beautiful kids and were all wearing yellow polo shirts as their uniform. I so badly want them to meet the recycling group we have at Palmer Park Preparatory Academy, who are not only doing the same great environmental work, but are also forced to wear yellow polo shirts as their uniform. (I bet both groups of students feel the same way about those shirts)

Another Detroit Dakar parallel we discovered at the school was their architecture program. A recent architecture graduate from Howard University was teaching architecture at the school, and was incidentally designing an outdoor space near their school with the students – JUST LIKE WE’RE DOING in Detroit. They were trying to build up the community around the school by re-designing the neighborhood park with students and community members. It was designed in the same style as traditional Senegalese gathering spaces, with lots of spaces for sitting and talking. (We didn't get to see it bc it was farther away but that's how it was described) So it wasn’t just amazing to learn that this young University graduate was doing this kind of project in Dakar, but we found out he was actually from Detroit, went Aisha Shule, and knew Siwatu from growing up! Small world, it is indeed. His name is Jonathan Nichols, and we hope he’ll come back to Detroit and work with our youth when his fellowship in Dakar is over.

We will be coordinating a Skype relationship between SABS and the EMEAC partner schools in the coming months so that the students can meet each other. It’s exciting to see a parallel program across the Atlantic, in a city that is facing so many similar environmental injustice issues as we are facing in Detroit. It was great to see that we’re not alone or isolated in our struggles! I’ll keep everyone posted about our continuing relationship with this school.

Will Copeland's D2D Blog: Third Day in Dakar at World Social Forum: Things Pick Up!

Day 3

I’m tired today from the Opening March.  It was a pageant of Africans and other social justice agents.  I feel like the Senegalese and African organizers did a tremendous job of getting African participants and volunteers.  You could feel the power of the African civil society.  I want to explore what these groups are and who the membership is and then relate it to Detroit.  Especially the Rightsizing PMA.

Yes, I’m tired.  The march was 5-6 miles.  We guessed that 90-100 thousand people were there.  Jen from Grassroots Global Justice suggests that the march stretched for two miles.  One of the highlights was dancing with the COSATU- South African Trade Unions.  They were harmonious and musical.  My favorite song went: My daddy was a kitchen boy.  My momma was a garden girl. That’s why I’m a communist a communist. I loved the rhythm and beat of that song. I hope it’s on video.  That song should be on the radio—just throw a beat behind it.  It is a profound statement about class coming from a society that is hell bent on social mobility.   The South Africans sang songs in African languages and broke out into dance circles as they marched forward.  Emery from Project South and Tufara from Highlander Center joined in.  We all clapped and stepped from side to side to their rhythms.  In the US we need to take chanting to the next level and  come up with rhythms that are memorable, shared, and can stir the soul.  I think that we have to step up our cultural presence in our political work.

We met two interesting groups today.  First an economics and entrepreneurship teacher at a Bilingual Senegalese-American school. He introduced us to the director of the school, a woman from Baltimore who has lived in Senegal for 25 years.  They invited us to visit them at their school to exchange about our environmental programs.

Secondly  we met workers of a local food growers movement in Senegal.  They operate a vegetarian restaurant and have a community center that focuses on culture as well as agriculture and restaurant skills.  We enjoyed their vegetarian plates.  They welcomed us, sat us down and offered us heaping salads and black eyed peas in a tasty onion gravy.

Detroit is definitely a grassroots community.  We enjoy meeting the folks- staying in the hoods and getting down with the people in their own environment.  It is challenging when you don’t know the customs and don’t know exactly all the hustles and dangers (and don’t speak the language fluently)

Nonetheless Senegal is known throughout Africa and beyond as the land of hospitality.  It is unlike the US in that when you stay with someone they feel a responsibility for you and look out for you and welcome you into their family.  I feel that from Marieme (Senegalese Association of Michigan) as well as from Diof our landlord/ host.

At the sit down restaurants there is more of the feeling of enjoying a family meal.  Unlike the US you don’t order a la carte and mix and match to your heart’s desire.  They offer plates with a standard meat/ veggie/ side combination.  And sometimes there is a limited amount of food that may run out for the night.  At least it is fresh.  At some of these places the feeling is not of an establishment trying to make  a buck but of being welcomed in and sharing the food they have.

There was one moment when the hospitality turned sour.  One of the women who travels with us was propositioned by this Italian man who comes to Africa for his sexual fetishes with Black chocolate women.  He too was a guest at the hotel and Diof looked out for his well being considerably.  We had some conversations about European colonialism and privelege.  It was a shocking reminder about what tourism means for some people.  Senegal has amazing hospitality but that doesn’t mean that people should be objectified or treated like servants.

Will Copeland's D2D Blog: First Day in Dakar

Busy Streets of Dakar

We made it safely to Dakar.  I’ve been here about a whole day.  What I notice immediately is the busyness of the streets.  Vendors reach towards open car windows hawking cell phone SIM Cards.  Cars swerve in and around traffic without stoplights and with little regard for driving lanes.  The sidewalks and streets are full of people. Some of the people are dressed  casual in T shirts but many are regally dressed in long dresses, headwraps, coordinated robes and pants.  A lot of people wear flip flops. 

From the Roof of our hotel

Vendors Selling Goods

I went to dialysis today in Dakar.  I found the staff to be friendly, curteous, and professional.  Clinique Madeleine is obviously an upscale hospital.  The streets are well paved.  The nearby buildings are solid stone.  There is an abundance of white people roaming the halls.  

Me and My Boy Boubacar

I met a new friend.  Nicknamed “Old School”, Boubacar served as my dialysis technician.  He loved hip hop—we listened to Fat Joe,EPMD, 50 Cent, Dilated Peoples, Adina Howard, Mary J Blige, and others as he helped facilitate my treatment.  He was born in 1981 like my brother.  He quizzed me on my French and said it was “assez bien.”

I have come to feel safe in Dakar.  After conversation with others in the delegation I wonder if this is not naive.  For example, when we got off the plane we were surrounded by young men who gave us handshakes offered to carry our bags, tried to sell us SIM cards.  Were these enterprising young men, hustlers, or thieves working to distract and disorient? 

There is so much to learn about travelling.