Rocking Along
When we were living in a village in Côte d’Ivoire, at the end of most workdays I would walk over to my neighbor Mr. Gabriel. He was usually sitting under his mango tree, catching the breeze off the lagoon.
He’d bring out a stool for me, and we would sit and chat, in Adioukrou, in French.
I was there to learn the language and culture. I recorded stories and had someone explain them to me in French and figured out how to say things based on the stories.
Then I went around the village using what I had learned, trying to communicate. It involved a lot of pointing and laughter, mainly at my expense. I provided endless entertainment.
Little by little over a period of years, I learned to speak the language.
Mr. Gabriel marveled at my way of life as much as I did his. For example, he was amazed I walked anywhere since I had a car. “If I had a car, I’d take it to pee behind my house!” he said.
We laughed a lot together.
And I sensed a kindred spirit even though we came from very different worlds.
When we were living in a village in Côte d’Ivoire, at the end of most workdays I would walk over to my neighbor Mr. Gabriel. He was usually sitting under his mango tree, catching the breeze off the lagoon.
He’d bring out a stool for me, and we would sit and chat, in Adioukrou, in French.
I was there to learn the language and culture. I recorded stories and had someone explain them to me in French and figured out how to say things based on the stories.
Then I went around the village using what I had learned, trying to communicate. It involved a lot of pointing and laughter, mainly at my expense. I provided endless entertainment.
Little by little over a period of years, I learned to speak the language.
Mr. Gabriel marveled at my way of life as much as I did his. For example, he was amazed I walked anywhere since I had a car. “If I had a car, I’d take it to pee behind my house!” he said.
We laughed a lot together.
And I sensed a kindred spirit even though we came from very different worlds.
When we were living in a village in Côte d’Ivoire, at the end of most workdays I would walk over to my neighbor Mr. Gabriel. He was usually sitting under his mango tree, catching the breeze off the lagoon.
He’d bring out a stool for me, and we would sit and chat, in Adioukrou, in French.
I was there to learn the language and culture. I recorded stories and had someone explain them to me in French and figured out how to say things based on the stories.
Then I went around the village using what I had learned, trying to communicate. It involved a lot of pointing and laughter, mainly at my expense. I provided endless entertainment.
Little by little over a period of years, I learned to speak the language.
Mr. Gabriel marveled at my way of life as much as I did his. For example, he was amazed I walked anywhere since I had a car. “If I had a car, I’d take it to pee behind my house!” he said.
We laughed a lot together.
And I sensed a kindred spirit even though we came from very different worlds.
8 x 8” oil on wood panel. Framed size, 9.5 x 9.5 x 1”.