
Adventure in Liberia
There were twelve people from the Zorzor
community who worked on my mural. Among them was Gayflor, one of
the two professional artists in the community. I’ve never painted
a mural with a professional artist. I must admit, passing off some
of the things I usually do was a momentary struggle. But, I
thought that giving deserving people the opportunity to shine was more
important than my pride. Gayflor printed designs on shirts and
painted signs in Zorzor. What I needed was exactly what he did,
and he was one of the few people I’ve ever come across who could outline
the mural to my satisfaction. The time he saved me allowed me to
have more opportunity to savour the stay in Zorzor.
One of those opportunities was a three person taxi ride on a motorcycle
with Gayflor. Big Sam, the motorcyclist, was a whole lot safer as
a driver than me. It was about a fifteen minute ride from Fissebu
to Zorzor. I don’t know how other drivers managed three
passengers. Some of them passed us on the way. It didn’t
look safe and I want to feel safe while on a motorcycle. The trip
to Zorzor was to see some of the projects Gayflor painted in town as
well as his workshop where he silk-screened a lot of shirts.
I returned to Gayflor’s home on another day. He wasn’t home but
his mama welcomed me onto the front porch. We shared a plate of
potato greens. Now, when I say we shared a plate, there was one
plate and one spoon. I felt like a true African and welcomed into
the family. I don’t know anyone else back home who would eat that
way.
After the meal, it was time for dessert. Mama really didn’t know
why she was supposed to pull out the coal pot and start a fire, but she
politely did as I requested. She was about to get her introduction
to chocolate no-bake cookies, and she liked what she saw. The
whole family did! And, quite an extended family showed up to
sample the goodies.
Gayflor’s father took a particular interest in the treat and requested
the recipe. Of course, I copied it down for him. Then, I asked him
about something on my Liberian bucket list. Did he know where I
could find a “rubber gun”? A rubber gun has nothing to do with
guns at all. It’s what Liberians call a sling shot. I had
one from my Peace Corps days, but someone pulled back on the elastic and
learned that it didn’t hold up well after 25 years. I needed a
replacement. Dad knew where to get one and did just that.
No shortage of talent in Zorzor
I was so genuinely delighted that I gave him the entire can of chocolate
baking powder. Now, everyone was happy. But, as I have so
frequently discovered in my travels, it is hard to out-give the people I
come in contact with. Gayflor’s father was a tailor. He
decided that I should get one of his special African shirts made from
country cloth. It’s a traditional woven fabric that is kind of a
dying art. The shirts are magnificent and expensive, but I would
have purchased one if I could have found it. Zorzor really didn’t
have much of a marketplace. I’d already asked about these shirts
and was told I’d have to go to shopping in a bigger city. Nothing
I’d find could be as special as the shirt I wanted that was made by a
tailor I knew. But, in typical Liberian fashion, ceremony was very
important. I didn’t get the shirt on the day of the cookies and
potato greens. It had to be formally presented during the
dedication ceremony for the mural.
Finally, it’s always interesting when you get to know someone well
enough that they can tell you things that they wouldn’t do when they
first met you. During my wonderful afternoon with Gayflor’s
family, he talked about the first day we met. He said that nobody
in the group of twelve thought I’d be an artist of any kind. Why
else would I need the only two professional artists in Zorzor to help
with the project? Expectations were low, and I ended up blowing
them all away.
Honestly, I feel that I made more of a community impact in one week than
I did in my entire two year Peace Corps experience. There were
crowds every day watching the progress of the mural. So, wherever
I went on the campus of the Zorzor Rural Teacher Training Institute,
everyone knew who I was. But, that wasn’t the end of it.
When I walked down the road to the nearby village of Fissebu, people
recognized me and talked about the mural. And, even in Zorzor, I
was stopped on the street because people knew about the project.
Yes, I’d say that I have learned a thing or two about working with
communities over the course of my murals. And, whether their
expectations are high or low, it’s always a good thing to blow people
away with a community project.