A beautiful art gallery

I've been seeing a painting on my way to meetings in Congo Town out of the corner of my eye for some time now. Even from far away, it looked like an interesting piece. Since it's a big piece, one could notice the large portrait even from a moving vehicle.

On my way back from a meeting with an NGO - called Riders for Health - yesterday, I decided to stop and see if I could buy it.

I was so enraptured with this striking painting that I didn't realise the painting was displayed on the road side just outside and art gallery.

I went in to take a look and found myself surrounded by massive murals and portraits. I was really astounded to so many beautiful pieces, many of them really good.

I met the owner of the gallery and another artist. I wish I had met them at the time of the NATC Art Contest so they would be part of the contest too.

Honestly, I feel like buying 3-4 paintings but would need some good amount of cash, at least $ 200-$ 300. I think I am going to make the one I have been seeing out of the corner of my eye for sure. I will try to get it for $ 100.00 although the original quote is $ 300.00!

All in all, I felt great to see this art gallery, meet artists

This girl looks so real, as if she will step out of the painting.

Village scene with traditional women dancers

This is a really interesting scene. From a far, I thought it was actually the view of Monrovia from Bushrod Island. And maybe it is a vision of the future. It is a striking contrast  - we have a simple fishing boat in the fore ground, floating in a river reflecting the greenery above, and a modern metropolis in the back. 

The bush devil

This painting of a water fall, forest and a profile of a person in the foreground is particularly dreamy and beautiful. It kind of reminds me of  Tasadduq Sohail's paintings. 

Kavita's third birthday party

We celebrated Kavita's 3rd birthday at my friend's home on Duport Road on New Year's Day. Kavita's birthday is actually on 5 January but because it is a week day we decided to have the party on the first day of the year. 

This is the invitation which really says it all. If you weren't there, you really were square.

'Grandma Becky' is Rebecca Williams, my close friend, family the whole time I've been in Liberia. She and I were colleagues at WFP and UNDP. 

We visited her on Christmas Day the week before and, agreed we would invite the children from her community to Kavita's birthday. We agreed that 10 children would be invited. Of course, 4 or 5 times the number actually showed up!

Rebecca had organised a children's dance group to entertain us who performed some acrobatics and modern dance. It was really fun to watch and even more amusing to see their coach, a female UNDP driver, guide them. 

Driving to the party. Kavita is dressed up and ready in the back of the car. 

Haresh and Kavita pose for a photograph,
standing under the 'Happy Birthday Kavita' banner we made at the office.
Haresh is wearing a pirate's hat, which we bought at Stop & Shop

Party banner

Party banner

Grandma Becky's yard was set up for the party
by laying out tarpaulin on the ground.

One of the 10 black and white invitations that were sent out by Grandma Becky 

Rebecca's community

Grandma Becky with some of the kids

Kavita and friends

Kavita on her trampoline (we brought her trampoline for the party)

Auntie Manita juggles some balls to entertain the kids

Haresh the Pirate and Rebecca

Rajesh, friend, and Grandma Becky

Godwina, twin of Edwina: Rebecca's girls

Well behaved kids

Haresh shows everyone his famous magic rope trick 

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Haresh exits the stage

Children enjoying Haresh's magic tricks

Kavita the birthday girl

The dance group

The dance group

Musical chairs

Kavita the birthday girl dances

The dance group

Rainy Monday evening

Walking to work on a rainy Monday morning

It never rains in January and lo and behold, we have a typical "rainy season" rainy day this morning. See some pictures of Kavita and I walking to work.

Bomb bomb

Bomb Bomb is again having a sale at Expat-Hang-Out's this Saturday, all day from 10 AM to 6 PM. Come and support underprivileged women from More than Everyone Town, Holy Saviour County and buy their hand made bombs.

Bomb Bomb was started by a CIA Agent, Innocuous American Name, in the 1980s when she was spying on the new regime following the 1980 coup d'etat. She was offered cold water by an innocent and pure village woman when she got lost in the rain forest near More than Me Town, far but no so far from More than Everyone Town. 

She ended up spending a few days in the Town, taking a break from spying. She stumbled upon her new friend's ability to do an enormous stock pile of physical labour every day: from carrying buckets of water to chopping and carrying wood, from farming to cooking and washing, and borning a new baby every day.  She was particularly fascinated by this illiterate but bright woman's adept fingers and how they fashioned a basket from bamboo. 

Innocuous American Name decided to give up her spying career and decided to instead help her new friend and all her neighbours to set up a cooperative making hand-made bombs. 

The first bombs designed by the Bomb Bomb group really were a work of art: delicate, precise, and potent. They could be concealed in a hand bag or back pack by American Freedom Bringers. They can also be used for decorative purposes.

Innocuous American Name managed to get a small order from the American Government for use in its Freedom Conquest in the Middle East. They were so effective in bringing about democracy and the free market that there was no looking back.

Bomb Bomb bagged many, many more orders for its perfect, hand-made bombs and, other Allies and Partners soon started buying these hand-made bombs by the bold, courageous women of Liberia.

Bomb Bomb empowers rural women who make safe, artistic and precise bombs. They not only grab their future by the horns but also help to bring about democracy and liberty in the Middle East.

Buy a Bomb Bomb bomb today and, help America help Africa help the Middle East.

Kiya ajeeb, sohana aur dilkash mausam hai

Getting these few rainy days in Monrovia, in what should be the height of the scorching dry season, is unsettling but also also a welcome respite. 

On Monday night, I stepped into the balcony to turn off the generator and switch us back to LEC after I noticed our LEC bulb, hanging over our kitchen door, come on. It's always such a relief to know the light is back on. Although our generator is in the back yard of the apartment building and, it is not nearly as loud as when we used to have a generator on the very same balcony at first and later on our rooftop, there is still a steady hum, white noise that always makes me uneasy. 

Well anyway, after I told "Bijli" to stop pouncing on me, hyper as she is being cooped up on that balcony,  and after switching off the generator, I paused to notice how remarkably chilly it was. 

I came back into the apartment and walked across the carpet to settle back onto the sofa and continue enjoying my nightly fix of Dallas. 

I told Haresh, "Kiya khoobsoorat hawa chal rahee hai." 

The next morning, I woke up to a really overcast day.  I felt a positively cool wind on my face while walking from the apartment to the office. 

The rest of the day was quite cool and my office felt a little too chilly with the AC on. Later on, I looked up from my desk to see it drizzling outside.

The next few days were remarkably cool so much so that we did not have to use the AC in our living room. Everyone had donned a jacket or sweater because for most people in Liberia it is really cold.

Even non-Liberians who have lived in Liberia for many years swore they've never felt so cold before, even in the rainy season.

Getting these few days of cool weather feels like a borrowed season. The town feels different. Everyone seems to have donned a jacket or sweater for this is cold weather indeed. The colour of the sky is grey. The air is crisp and cool. But it is not completely grey, like winter in the northern hemisphere where the trees lose their leaves. Here, we still have greenery all around.

Harmattan is but a brief and welcome break in the dry season. 

An ode to Haresh's sneeze

My sweet, gentle Haresh has the disposition of a meek kitten. When one first meets him, one is taken away by his gracious, charming and elegant manner. He usually takes women's hands and kisses them, shyly flirting with them. With men, he gives them a jolly panda-bear hug. Children, he wins them over with fantabulous magic tricks. Bare choton se, saab se pyar! 

Haresh is a man that one reads about in 19th century novels. He is salt of the earth. He does not take sides in politics. He does not display intellectual or literary prowess. 

He is the epitome of harmony and cooperation while playing strategic board games. What's that game, Settlers of Catan? If you want to trade a resource, he will freely give you one. Missing an active knight when the barbarian ship attacks? Don't fear, Haresh is here. He will - raat din eik kar ke - make sure there are enough knights so you do not lose your city. Haresh the knight at your service! 

Need to borrow some money? Haresh will empty both pockets to give you a loan and, then forget about it. Yaaron ka yaar! 

Jitnee tareef ki jaye kam hai! 

Speaking of tareef, he hates mirrors. Other men, waste time admiring themselves, flexing their muscles and posing. Not Haresh, he is humble and meek. 

But what I really wanted to admire most about him is his sneeze. Despite his soft facade, his sneeze is something to behold, preferably at a distance, let's say the one between the North Pole and the Equator. When Haresh sneezes, you would jump like you would if, let's say, your car suddenly internally combusted! Haresh's sneeze sounds like the magnetic crash and sonic hiss of melting glaciers, crashing into the ocean. You really cannot be prepared for such a sound in your life. It is something to behold for your bleeding ears. It is truly a spectacle. It feels like the infinite time loop of the celestial bodies in motion. God knows if there is a beginning or an end. And, if for some reason, you manage to reach the end of the screeching sneeze, the sound will echo in your bleeding ears for hours to come. You will wonder, what was that? What was that infernal sound? Demons escaping the 7th circle of hell? Was that the clearing of a throat of an elephant from Jupiter? Was that the whoosh of a tsunami wave? 

For this is my ode to Haresh's sneeze. 

This. 

The sonic boom that is Haresh's sneeze. 

Haresh's sneeze.

Broke the sound barrier.

Reversed the speed of thought. 

Deafened my ear drums. 

The sound that launched melting of polar ice caps.

Made the polar bears homeless.

Caused global warming. 

Lifted from their depths the majestic heights of ocean levels.

Drowned coastal cities. 

Mayhem.

And then all was quiet.

The sneeze is over.

Silence.

Calm.