1989 Like so many cultures around the world, the Krahn people in Liberia had special customs when their children approached adulthood. What happened at the “bush schools” was a secret nobody ever shared with any foreigner. The young people went to a mysterious location in "the bush" and received whatever training the elders believed was necessary for adulthood.
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I didn't see girls who finished Krahn bush school very often in my Peace Corps experience. In my two years in Zwedru, I think I saw this three times. So, when I was at the marketplace and saw this girl, I raced home to grab my camera. I didn't care how much I had to beg, plead, grovel, or pay. I was going to get some photos.
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As it turned out, the girl was just as happy to get her photo taken as I was to take the picture. It was the people around us who insisted that I pay her. Well, I reached into my pocket and emptied all the money I had into her hand. It was only about 25 cents in change, but she was delighted.
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I was too.
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You probably have realized by now that when I photograph a portrait that I really like, I go home and draw it. The portrait of this Krahn girl has always been one of my most favorite drawings out of all of my travels.
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2016 Yes, this is my favorite portrait in my African collection. Really, hands-down, there is no competition. And, just in case you are wondering, she had a white, chalky kind of paint smeared over her body that crackled as it dried. When people had this kind of paint on, they were considered invisible. I don't understand how that worked. I just knew that I clearly saw someone I wanted to photograph.
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It really was a rare photo opportunity and my camera wasn’t so far away as to miss this "Kodak moment". Now, if you are too young to know what a Kodak moment is, back in the pre-historic days before digital photography and endless selfies, you had to use real film to take photos. You carefully monitored how many photographs you took because the roll usually had 24 or 36 exposures in total. And, developing pictures was so expensive! I was thrilled to return to Liberia in 2016 with a digital camera and unlimited photos!
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On this particular day in 1989, at this particular moment, I didn't care how many pictures I took! Usually when I finish a portrait, I just stuff the drawing into a portfolio. I have collections from Morocco, Africa, Asia, Europe, and the Americas. Nobody else has ever seen all of them. But, each one tells a story to me about my journeys around the world. On a few occasions, I've retraced my steps hoping to find the people I've drawn and give them a print. I've not had a lot of success at this.
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I really didn't know what to expect when I returned to Liberia. A civil war, that ripped the country apart for over a decade, started two weeks after my Peace Corps service ended. Zwedru, the home of President Doe, was a target during the war. My best friend Daniel fled his home in the middle of the night with what he could grab at a moment's notice. His possessions included my address, but I hadn't heard from him in years. I knew he had been a refugee in the Ivory Coast for years. I still can hardly believe that I have a friend who was a refugee. I didn't know if he ever made his way back to Liberia.
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There were several people I hoped to locate when I got back to Zwedru. Of course, Daniel was one of them. But, I was also going to ask people around the town if they recognized this 15-year-old girl who was now most likely a 40-year old mother with a 15-year old daughter of her own. I had no idea if I would find anyone who I once knew, but I was a man on a mission.
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One of my muralists, Jeffrey, took an interest in helping me with my search. He believed this young woman would not have lived in Zwedru. There were a few outlying villages where he thought she most likely would have come from. The search took a while, but he actually located her! Unfortunately, it was after I left LIberia. Still, it was a minor miracle that he located her after 27 years and a civil war that lasted 14 years. Much to her surprise, I'm sure, she received a copy of her portrait. (It wasn't framed. I hadn't thought of that gesture until I arrived in Zwedru.)
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After my visit to Liberia with the U.S. Embassy project, I asked my friends at the embassy if I could send one box of presents to my Liberian friends. Graciously, they allowed this. I sent gifts to people who helped me paint in Zorzor and Zwedru. Amont the goodies in the box was a nicely framed portrait for this Krahn woman. Unfortunately, my friend Jeffrey had a massive stroke. The connection to deliver the framed portrait was lost. And, the gift remained in my friend Jouthy's possession, undelivered.
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2025 It was years before I actually learned that Jeffrey had a stroke. I just knew he went to the capital city and was sick. My friend Jouthy, who worked at the American Corner Library in Zwedru, had long ago delivered my gifts to my muralists in Zwedru. After all of these years, I finally asked him if he could track down this mystery woman. Seriously, if there were only three rural villages, it couldn't be that difficult.
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Much to my delight, Jouthy was successful in his search!
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Victoria in her village and with my friend, Jouthy.
After three decades, I finally learned that the girl in my portrait was named Victoria. Of course, Jouthy documented the event with photos and videos for me. Victoria clearly remembered the moment in her life and told Jouthy exactly where she was when the Peace Corps man took her photograph.
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Additionally, I sent Victoria a cash gift. I'm sure it was completely unexpected and greatly appreciated. In fact, I sent Jouthy back for a second visit. He printed off two more portraits and had them framed locally. I wanted Victoria to have a few to share with children or grandchildren.
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I'm not sure if the story ends here. Who knows if I will ever make it back to Liberia to visit Victoria in person? But, Jouthy shared something very special with me. As it turns out, my friend must have told Victoria a little about me. And, my story recently included seven weeks of back pain caused by an angry nerve. (I will never again take for granted the ability to walk or sit.) Anyway, one day Jouthy received a telephone call from Victoria. This woman, whose path I'd only barely crossed decades ago, was concerned about the Peace Corps man. Was I doing any better? Did Jouthy have any news? Actually, Jouthy had kept in touch with me during this ordeal -- all the way in Africa -- more than anyone else I know. He had the full scoop and knew I was finally recovered. He told Victoria, "We give praises to the Almighty. God is in control."
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I am always thankful to have any and all friends pray for me -- no matter what continent they may find themselves.
Victoria and her grandchildren on the second visit.
1 comment
I recall seeing girls with the white chalk and the witch doctors on stilts..Great memories