Let it be know, this is HAITI

BBC's One Block in Harlem

Although it starts off with a questionable introduction about the subject matter: "Harlem: It means ghetto, political activism, impoverished despair" it is worth hearing my former master's thesis advisor, scholarly mentor, the late Manning Marable's analysis of the historic meaning of Harlem in the black imaginary.

"Harlem was a school for civic education"-Manning Marable

Part 1:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/mobile/documentaries/2011/02/110202_one_block_harlem_tx_1.shtml

Part 2:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/mobile/documentaries/2011/02/110208_one_block_in_harlem_tx_2.shtml

Seaside at Oudayas

I look dumbfounded by the intensity of this heat + humidity moment in Rabat.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Rabat,Maroc

Once you have seen one Arab corniche

You have seen them all






- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Boulevard Franklin Roosevelt,,Maroc

Few people know that I am part Mexican

And here is the proof:

Prince's Dance Party for the People

I thought Sting was out of his "got damn mind" for coming back for a third encore after a 3 hour set at the Hollywood Bowl last year. But then there was the Purple One, His Royal Badness, the High Priest of Pop, the artist known as Prince, who came back for 5 ENCORES!

Prince's concert at the Forum in Inglewood last night was preceded by chitter-chatter around the uniqueness of the LA part of Prince's national tour. Announced last week on the George Lopez show (who coincidently opened up last night's show by imploring the packed house to "welcome Prince to our hood"), Prince's series of dates in Los Angeles were to all take place at the Forum in Inglewood, not at the Staples Center in the bustling, emerging locus of "new Los Angeles cool," not in the suburban haven of the Hondo Center in Anaheim, and tickets went on sale two days before the first show for $25 (that's even after exorbitant ticket master processing fees were added). 80 percent of the tickets sold went for that amount, while the floor seats hovered in the hundreds. But that still didn't serve to exclude the party people from joining in the dance party.

Although my friend who purchased our tickets struck the ticket master que "best available" seat lottery, meaning we started out with an incredible viewing experience, we somehow ended up in the FRONT ROW by the night's end. The series of pictures will demonstrate our progression.

Performing for a total of 3 hours plus with an outstanding band (the bass player was ridiculous!), a trio of thick curvy, powerhouse female singers, a ballerina and of course, Sheila E., Prince thrilled the crowd with favorites (preferring them over "B sides from the 2000s"), rocked out to guitar solos, jumped up on his purple piano, and of course invited guests to the stage to join him in this dance party for the people (thankfully kim kardashian was no where to be found). Experiencing a Prince concert like this, and finally emerging from my doctoral program cocoon to enjoy art as a spectator and, yes DANCE my hips away into the wee hours of the evening, sparked so many thoughts in my head about the role of the artist, the role of the entertainer, the therapy of dance (collective dance as well), and the power and gift of experiencing creation, the exhibition of an artist's creative gift to the world. Perhaps this will be unpackaged in a future post, but for now enjoy my spectacular view of the purple one as caught by a iPhone 4 lens:

On the Khaleej

3/24/09, Abu Dhabi

"Be steadfast in your devotion to God, bearing witness to the truth in all equity, and never let the hatred of others to you make you swerve to wrong and depart from justice. Be just: (for) that is closest to piety. . .God has promised forgiveness and a great reward to those who believe and do deeds of righteousness." The Noble Quran, 5:8-9

There is so much that you can’t learn from a book or a phone conversation, so much learning and understanding that requires you to just be, be present. Although I have strongly held this belief in the past, it is nice and necessary to be reminded of this axiom in my travels. From Beirut, to Cairo, to Muscat, and finally, to Abu Dhabi; it has been the conversations in Toyota Prados, wondering looks at a coffee shop in downtown Beirut or out of a cab in Cairo, and questions posed walking through Marina Mall that have greatly enhanced my understanding of the cities I have been visiting and the people I have been meeting.

It’s interesting how Abu Dhabi, by virtue of it’s association with the yogurt cup Las Vegas of the Middle East, has garnered an international reputation that regards its accelerated expansion as indication of a diluting of culture and distancing from tradition. Some how culture has died, been cremated and had its ashes spread across the rubble that remains from skyscraper construction. Yesterday morning proved otherwise.

My aunt took me to the Mena first thing in the morning. The intention was to shop for some fresh seafood at the fish market by the bahar. Before we did this, she drove through the adjacent fruit and vegetable market, some imported, and some organically grown on neighboring farms. Next, at the fish market we selected from Sultan ahmar and shrimp, had them cleaned and left them to be grilled while we touring around the plant and flower market. Oversized Tunjaras and stirring spoons were piled on top of each other and varying spices were stuffed into label-less plastic bags on top of each other. Was this the same Emirates much derided for its “plastic-ness,” for a hollowed out soul filled with skyscappers?