GRIOTS REPUBLIC - An Urban Black Travel Mag - Jan 2016

W H E R E T H E R E ' S T R A V E L , T H E R E ' S A S T O R Y
IDENTITY
RACE
Travelers discuss
identity politics
27
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9 Teams, but only 1 Winner
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THE
GALAPAGOS
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A family
adventure in
Equador
JAN 2016 | ISSUE 01

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Archivists Note
From Brazilian Favelas to the streets of Brooklyn and over to the
front lines of conflict, this issue celebrates identity and community
and the many ways they and we interconnect.
What are we? Who are we? What do we stand for? These are all
questions we've had to ask ourselves over the last year while creating
Griots Republic. Take issues surrounding race, ethnicity, gender,
nationality and whole host of other identifying markers and layer on a
rabid case of wanderlust and you easily begin to realize that things are
never just black and white. So let's dive into the grey.
We gathered urban travelers from different walks of life and asked them
for their stories. What we received was a gift. An idea that no matter how
far we travel or how complicated our Identity is, there is single thread
that connects us all... The need for community.
So in the spirit of community we bring you Griots Republic, the digital
magazine for urban travelers. We look forward to exploring more of our
world together, rooting out travelers you want to know and capturing
stories you want to hear. In the interim, welcome to our inaugural issue.
T H E A R C H I V I S T S
Immigration and the
Black British experience,
Jendella Benson's view
should not be missed.
Foodies should love Kelis'
book... Rodney did. Check
out his review in this
issue as well.
We have been stalking
photographer Matika
Wilbur for a minute. We
finally got her to sit long
enough to learn more
about her project.
#Amazing

CONTRIBUTORS
For full bios and social media links to all of the writers, photographers,
and editors from this issue. Please visit www.GriotsRepublic.com.

IG photographer
R E A D I N G L I S T of insight into the psyche of this
creative force of nature. At some
points, this professed introverts
shedding light on her life almost makes
the reader feel like they are intruding
SAY 'YES' TO
A NEW YEAR
Is this the next book to add you your reading list?
"YES!"
By Rodney Goode
and that makes the reader respect
(even treasure) the gift she is giving
you within its covers.
Without revealing too much, The Year
of Yes begins when her sister mutters
six words under breath:
You never say yes to anything.
From that point, Rhimes walks the
reader through the impact of those
words and all she must overcome to
begin to say 'yes.' She tells the tale of a
lying introvert (this will make more
sense after reading) who says 'yes' to
meeting the President of the United
States, to appearing on Jimmy Kimmel,
and 'yes' in some more personal and
private ways. In many ways the tale is
honest, sobering and sometime
humorous. Rhimes simply wants to do
better, be better.
THE CONCLUSION
THE GIST
There is something intriguing
about the close of an old year and
the onset of the new. For some it
signifies the end of twelve
months of successes and the
mystery of newer and greater
things ahead while for others, it
means putting 365 days of
arduous challenges behind and
the hope of better things to come.
Regardless of how you look at it,
the New Year means just that, a
new year to try again. That’s
what makes the first book, “The
Year of Yes” is perfectly timed.
Reading this book with no
knowledge of who Rhimes is will
be a challenge because without
understanding her celebrity, the
journey outlined in this book may
not have the same impact.
However, if you are a fan of Grey’s
Anatomy, Scandal, or How to Get
Away With Murder, this book
provides the reader with both
fascinating and interesting tidbits
The Year of Yes will probably be
heralded as a “Self-Help” book, but
arguably it’s just an opportunity for
Rhimes to publicly purge, declare her
victory, and celebrate her success.
The best part is it’s not preachy like so
many books of this type where the
author, because of their success,
proclaims to be a guru of sorts and
gives the reader a sense that if they do
not learn from the writers errors, the
reader will never be successful, nor is
it a guidebook that gives the reader a
step-by-step process for
improvement. The Year of Yes is simply
an account of an incident that sends
the writer on a different avenue in her
life’s journey.
Rhimes’ openness is the reader’s gain.

TYPES OF TRAVEL SUNGLASSES
5By Cabral M’rithi Miller
©Peter McConnochie
Very few statement accessories are
as universal as sunglasses. Since
travel, especially amongst today’s
urban millennials, is on the rise,
people are looking to accessories
as the perfect travel companions.
Considered the “AMEX of Travel,”
because one should not leave home
without them, sunglasses can
make or break your experience and
elevate your selfie game!
Here we break down the five types
of sunglasses that are perfect for
your next vacation, whether you
visit The Caribbean, Europe or
choose to luxuriate right here in
The States.

Wayfarer
Perfect with any other outfit or occasion,
the Wayfarer is the travel companion you
cannot afford to leave home without.
Tip: Perfect for those avoiding trends and
complimentary for people with small,
oval faces.
Oversized
By Dwayne July
Offering more protection from sunburn
and perhaps the paparazzi, this pair of
ostentatious sunnies are usually round
with a strong feminine brow line and
used to minimize the arch of your noses.
Tip: Works with almost every face type
and great for hiding from your fans or
frenemies.
Aviator
Versatile, with a military vibe, these
pieces are outfitted with bayonet
earpieces and are designed to prevent
light from entering the eye from almost
any angle. Tip: Round or smaller faces
are ideal.
Animal Print
A departure from the basic black these
sunnies are perfect for frolicking on
beaches, perusing down city streets, and
hanging out in fashionable spots around
the world. Tip: Oval faces are benefit and
the pattern brings out the ultrafeminine
side of every woman.
Embellished
Considered works of art, embellishments
are a fast trend that everyone is adopting
especially the accessories and apparel
worlds. Tip: For those who dare to wear
this risky trend these tend be more on
the larger side so try on before
purchasing.
20 20 squats
20 push-ups
1 minute plank
30 secs of rest
Repeat
circuit 4x

I G P H O T O O F T H E M O N T H
It was one of the least visited places I have ever
traveled to, but I consider myself a true traveler and
really thrive off the intrigue of undiscovered places.
I've been living in Brunei Darussalam which is on the
large island of Borneo for 4 months and have been
taking advantage of the opportunity by exploring
everything I can in the area. I've traveled to Indonesia
a few times before and realized there's so much more
out there than just the popular destinations like Bali,
Jakarta, and Yogyakarta.
I was in the province of West Papua which is also
known as Irian Jaya for close to a week trekking
through different villages without a guide. There are
about three different tribes who inhabit the villages
around the highlands of The Baliem Valley. In this
photo I was visiting the Dani Tribe.
On the last day of my visit I hired a guide to take me to
a specific village where they perform traditional
war dances. My guide was a local Papuan who
spoke the language and broken English so he was
able to translate. At the end of their dance he told
me that they would allow me to take a picture with
them.
There is only one way to get here which involves a
series of flights and a special travel permit called a
Surat Jalan. There is always a sense of
accomplishment and gratification I get when
arriving to such a remote location that can’t be
matched. From staying the night in the local straw
huts which are called “Honais”, to shaking every
locals hand I encountered along the path during
the trek, to handing out candies to all the children
of the villages, to the incredible views of the
surrounding mountains of the highlands, this was
one of the most memorable and picturesque trips I
have ever had and am incredibly fortunate to have
had this experience.

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Doc Swiner Presents...
New Year,
New You!
WOMEN'S CONFERENCE
SOAR TO
NEW HEIGHTS IN 2016!
Phenomenal Speakers
Excellent Discussions
Great Food
Live Music
More than 20 Vendors
Much More!
Saturday, January 9, 2016
8:30am-1:30pm
Jewish Life Center,
Duke University
1415 Faber Street, Durham, NC
w w w . d o c s w i n e r . c o m

© David Loftus.

FROM STAGE TO STOVE:
A CULINARY JOURNEY AROUND THE WORLD
A weekend of cooking and reading and here's a review of my
favorite recipes from Kelis Rogers' "My Life on A Plate."
Besides her career in
music, Kelis is a Le
Cordon Bleu trained
chef with multiple
television cooking
specials, and a
burgeoning
entrepreneurial streak
with her Bounty & Full
organic sauce line.
© David Loftus.
It is no surprise in this
entrepreneurial age we live in, that
Rappers and Singers want to be
Actors and Actors want to be singers
(and sometimes Rappers). On
occasion these endeavors are
successful but rarely do you see any
of the above leaving the glam and the
glitz of celebrity to become an
accomplished chef or cookbook
author. Kelis Rogers is the exception.
The ex-wife of superstar rapper,
Nasir Jones a.k.a Nas, Kelis is quite
the accomplished musician herself.
She plays several instruments and is
probably best known for her hit,
“Milkshake.” Her recent labor of love,
however is far removed from that lifestyle.
“My Life On a Plate,” heralds her successful
ascendency into the ranks of the culinary
royalty.
My Life On a Plate is a global culinary
journey that tells the stories of a world
traveler who enjoys good food. Her
fondness of hole-in-the-wall eateries
combined with her Le Cordon Bleu
education is evident throughout the book
and clearly serves as her inspiration. She
adeptly captures the sights and sound of
exotic locales and provides the reader with
easy to follow instructions that allow you to
taste her journeys via her refined palate.
Foodies who travel will certainly
appreciate her cookbook and the recipes
will transport you there. This is a recipe
source that is sure to be used over and
over again. Two recipes of note that are
certain to be favorites of traveling
foodies, due to their taste and ease of
preparation, are Kelis’ Beef Sliders and
Shrimp Alcapurias.

Fans of Kelis may be surprised to know that during a
musical hiatus, she worked on a food truck (yes, a food
truck)! In the book she share this story, as well as her
delicious recipe for Beef Sliders. Sliders can be found on
menus in practically any modern eatery, but what makes
Kelis’ sliders a new standard for home cooks is not in the
preparation of the beef. Kelis stays true to her roots and
utilizes a traditional Caribbean method of preparation in
need of little improvement. The recipe calls for the
braising of shredded flank steak seasoned in spices
endemic to the region. So what’s the game changer you
ask? It is the sauce.
Kelis, a culinary entrepreneur in her own right, has a
unique line of sauces and provides her recipe for a Root
Beer Espresso BBQ sauce that can only be described as
simply delectable. Kelis’ Beef Sliders are perfect for a quick
hand-held meal in front of the television or can be easily
used for either a hors d’oeuvre or snack platter.
The second recipe noted is for Shrimp Alcapurias. As an
introduction to the recipe, Kelis shares glimpses of her time
in Puerto Rico and anyone who has been there is certain to
be whisked away again to sand and sun to reminisce of this
beach food favorite. Alcapurias or fritters are a handheld
delicacy from Puerto Rico and while they are quite common
throughout the Caribbean, this version is made with a
batter of taro and/or green bananas. They are usually
stuffed with meat or seafood and the latter, shrimp to be
exact, and are what Kelis utilize in her recipe. Prepared to
her specifics these fritters make a perfect snack or side.
Leftover, they are a welcome addition to any lunchbox.
My Life On A Plate is a cookbook that will make you want to
see, feel, and taste the places Kelis has been for yourself
and if you have been to any one of her destinations
already, be prepared for a wonderful (and tasty) trip back.
Bon Voyage and Bon Appétit.
© David Loftus.

Born and raised in Harlem, New York, Kelis
Rogers, better known by just her first name,
first came to prominence singing the hook of
Ol' Dirty Bastard's hit Got Your Money. Years
of chart dominating songs and thrilling,
boundary-pushing music followed resulting
in millions of albums sold and numerous top
10 hits.
She has released six albums, won Brit, Q, and
NME Awards, and been nominated for two
Grammy Awards. Her latest album Food,
made with a live band and horn section,
mints a sound that is rootsy, raw, and soulful
without ever being retro. Upon release the
album was praised as one of her most
adventurous works yet.
Kelis has toured every corner of the world,
performed at every major festival, and
shared the stage with the world's top artists.
A fashion icon and designer muse since the
early days of her career, she is celebrated for
a personal style which is often as creative
and forward-thinking as the music she
makes.
© David Loftus.
Besides her career in music, Kelis is a Le
Cordon Bleu trained chef with multiple
television cooking specials, and a burgeoning
entrepreneurial streak with her Bounty & Full
organic sauce line.
“My Life on a Plate” by Kelis copyright 2015 Kyle Books

PROFILES
01
‘16

RE:UNION Music Fest is a global music
festival aimed to assemble the music of the
African Diaspora into one unforgettable,
unique experience. Hip-hop,
R&B, Reggae, Kompa,
Cuban, Salsa, Afrobeat,
South African House,
and more will be
brought together
on ONE stage to
celebrate our
narrative.
EACH MONTH
RE:UNION
MUSIC FEST
WILL INTRODUCE
GLOBAL MUSIC
ARTISTS TO THE
GRIOTS REPUBLIC
AUDIENCE.

Written by Jeremiah Myers
Since I was a child,
I’ve been taught
that“Black people
everywhere are
one in my family
would impart, “The
only difference between
Black Americans and others of
the Diaspora is that they got off
the boat one stop before us,”
(referring to the route of the
Atlantic Slave Trade). This
message stayed with me
throughout my youth, and now
as an adult fully resonates with
my spirit.
This greater understanding is a
result of two characteristics: I’m
a Black Man and a World
Traveler. As a Black Man I’ve
learned that resilience and
creativity are my best assets in
the face of struggle. Moreover,
as a World Traveler I’ve met
countless people from the
African Diaspora that share this
same view. The Rastafarians I
met at “Rebel Salute” in
Jamaica, the South African tour
guide (now friend) who
discussed Apartheid with me in
Johannesburg, and the women
of color living as expats in
Colombia all viewed the world
and our place in it similarly.
That’s when I realized something
very simple, yet powerful…
We have a shared story.
That’s the reason I decided to
create RE:UNION Music Fest.
We have used music to tell our
shared story for generations.
Hip-hop was born out of the
impoverished housing projects
of underserved black youth in
the Bronx, New York. Bachata’s
origins are rooted in the daily
realities of the rural Afro-
Dominican population of the
early 20th century. Kwaito
came to rise during the struggle
of Apartheid in the black
townships of Johannesburg,
South Africa. All of these
sounds are unique
autobiographies telling the
African Diaspora’s story of
resilience and creativity. They
are a living (and oftentimes
lively) testament of our
collective experience.
Music has the power to bridge
our worlds – and our people. It
has the power to RE:UNITE. It
is in this vein, RE:UNION Music
Fest finds its inception. By
blending various international
music genres into one amazing
experience, “The World’s
Greatest Family Reunion” will
reconnect the African Diaspora.
We’re more than music,
we’re FAMILY.
This powerful statement
represents RE:UNION Music
Fest. It signifies that while
music will always be a vital
element to the storied culture
and strength of the African
Diaspora, we must never forget
that Family Hood will be what
sustains us. I’m looking forward
to meeting you, my family.

On
Familiarity
& Otherness
An insight into Immigrants and Expats:
Black Brits at “Home” and Abroad
Written by Jendella Benson

To be Black and British is to have a
strange relationship with
immigration. Not too long ago we
were stoically soldiering on in the
face of cries of “go back to where you
came from!”,” spat at us by red-faced
yobs. But now, in light of recent
waves of immigration lapping against
the shores of this small, entitled
island, our otherness is somewhat
more familiar. Our former harassers
have fresher targets for their thinlyveiled
violent and racist rhetoric.
These new immigrants absorb the
frustrations of a beleaguered
working class, whose communities
have been undermined by successive
governments, but have instead been
sold a convenient scapegoat in the
form of immigrants.
While faceless mobs scream about
immigrants stealing jobs, living off
the state, and taking up all the
housing, government ministers
quietly pass legislation to cut state
benefits, sell off affordable housing
to the private sector, and increase
the amount of low-paid, insecure jobs
to add a superficial boost to
employment figures.
If we’re honest, some of us Black
Brits are just glad that the heat is no
longer on us and our families. There
are those who try to cement the limp
embrace offered by White Britain by
naively parroting nationalist
sentiment to ward off the asylum
seekers and migrants. It surprises me
how easy it is for some to regurgitate
IDENTITY
ˌīˈden(t)ədē/
noun
the fact of being who
or what a person or
thing is.
“No,
where are
you from,
really?"

G R I O T S R E P U B L I C | P

the weak justifications once offered in
order to keep our own parents out of
the country. However, there are also
many of us making our own plans to
leave out of choice.
One of the advantages of being in
Europe is the Schengen Agreement.
Back in 1995, an agreement came into
full effect that created an essentially
borderless state within mainland
Europe. People within the Schengen
Area became free to travel between
countries without border controls or
passport checks. While unsurprisingly
the United Kingdom has opted out,
travelling between here and the rest of
Europe is more or less painless anyway,
and once you’re over there further
travel is seamless. For many of us, once
we get over the fear of being racially
abused in foreign languages, our
globetrotting dreams begin with
Europe. We refresh our high school
level French, German, or Spanish,
book our budget flights and set off.
Most of our parents never travelled
anywhere but “back home”, so for
once we are not the children or
grandchildren of immigrants trying to
carve out an identity from a tangle of
cultures, nor are we the awkward
Westerners temporarily lodged in our
ancestral land for a Christmas or
summer. In these previously
uncharted territories, we are tourists!
Real tourists with cameras, and maps,
and hotel bookings instead of
mattresses on the floors of extended
relatives. What an upgrade!
While the privilege that comes with a
burgundy passport will take you
anywhere, many of us still have our
failsafe tucked away in a drawer
somewhere else. The fact is that
while you may be British, you are not
white and you will never be allowed
to forget that.
“So where are you from?”
“London.”
“No, where are you from, really?"
This exchange is so common that
many of us run through it on autopilot.
With our “real” heritage never
far from anyone’s mind, it makes
sense that as soon as we were old

enough, we gathered the necessary
proof and got ourselves a passport in
new colours for our respective “home”
countries. We often joke amongst
ourselves that when the inevitable
happens and Britain bombs its way into
World War 3, we will avoid the
compulsory military draft by hot-footing
it back to Nigeria, or Kenya, or Jamaica.
You’ll find us tweeting armchair
commentary on dispatches from BBC
World Service. “Rah, Big Ben got
bombed? #MadTingSadTing :(”
Once upon a time, being “shipped back”
was a threat ominously wielded in the
face of bad behaviour or poor grades,
but such homecomings are now
voluntary. I have friends who have
already beaten the crowds and have
relocated back to the motherland,
reacquainting themselves with their
heritage and culture. I follow their blog
posts and Instagram feeds out of
curiosity and mild envy.
Globalisation means that the motherland

19
is not the same motherland from
claustrophobic trips back as a child.
There are marble-floored shopping
centres, red carpet events, socialites
snapping for social media at gallery
openings, and cocktails at sunset. It's
hard not to mentally convert currency
and realise that for what you make here
to scrape by you can go and live the
high life “back home”. Forget that half
of your kinfolk still live in abject
poverty, “believe me, there's money to
be made here!” a once-forgotten cousin
tells you.
And even still, we have other options.
Studies, work and play have some
venturing even further afield, outside
the circles of familiarity in Europe,
Africa or the Caribbean, and to
countries where wide-eyed children
stroke brown arms in the street. Those
whose previous experience
of blackness has been limited to the
distant but omnipresent force of hip
hop, or Beyonce, are often astounded at
an actual black person standing before
them.
While the term “expat” was clearly
coined by white people trying to avoid
the stigma they spent years burdening
the word “immigrant” with, young Black
Brits have hijacked the term and ran
with it, setting themselves up in the
Middle East, Australia, Asia and
everywhere else in between.
To b e black and abroad is to inhabit a
very particular space, people will often
assume you’re either a poor African or a
rich American, so to be Black and British
is something else entirely. While the
innocent and not-so-innocent ignorance
of strangers may initially be enough to
make your mouse cursor hesitate while
After all, our parents were
the original “expats” – we
learned from the best.
booking your flights, the average Black
Brit will take this all in stride. I mean, we
are from Britain. If we can survive the
passive-aggressive, gas-lighting of the
British stiff upper lip at home, I believe
that we can survive anywhere. We can’t
pretend that the international arrogance
that had Britain raping and pillaging its
way across the world hasn’t rubbed off on
us. Wherever we land, just give us a bit of
time and we’ll have worked out where
to buy our plantain and hair products
from. We do this relocation and adaption
thing very well, and why would we not?
After all, our parents were the original
“expats” – we learned from the best.

01
‘16
PROFILES

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TRAVEL NOTES
GALAPAGOS
ISLANDS

The Galapagos Islands are an
archipelago of volcanic islands
straddling the equator in the Pacific
Ocean. They were declared a
province of Ecuador in 1973. About
25,000 people live on 18 primary
islands and 3 smaller ones.

The natural beauty, serenity and
mystery of Galapagos juxtaposed
against the sometimes comical and
occasionally frustrating obstacles we
faced during our tour of two of the
islands quickly became the major theme
of our trip, a trip we all agreed was well
worth the inconveniences.
The members of my international crew
included my Ukrainian-American
mother, Christina, who had retired to a
seaside village in Ecuador a few years
ago. Her Ecuadorian friend, Maria,
came up with the idea to make the trip
to the islands (which sit roughly 600
miles off the Ecuadorian coast). It turns
out Maria’s parents had actually lived
on one of the islands, Floriana, some 70
years ago when her father worked for
the government. Yet neither Maria nor
my mother had ever been.
Maria’s husband, Washington, knew
the Galapagos. He’d been stationed
there while serving in the Ecuadorian
military in the 1970s. Our trip would be
his first time back. Maria and
Washington’s adult children, Cristina
and Santiago, were the fourth and fifth
members of the entourage. Cristina
attends university in Germany;
Santiago works in Quito and had visited
the Galapagos as a boy. I flew in from
Washington D.C. and Cristina’s friend,
Louis, traveled from the United
Kingdom to make it a lucky seven.
The plan was to spend ten August days
island-hopping, with the goal of seeing
as many of the famously unique species
as we could. According to the
Galapagos Conservancy, about 80
percent of the land birds, 97 percent of
the reptiles and land mammals, and
more than 30 percent of the plants
are endemic. One of our guides,
Dario, said our timing was superb as
the best months to visit are August
through November. “Galapagos is
very beautiful,” he told us. “It is one of
the natural marbles of the world and
a wonderful experience to live here
and watch nature.”
While the weather in August can be
slightly rainy and the temperature a
tad less tropical than one might
expect (mid- to low-70s), according
to Dario the migratory patterns of
just about all the animals, birds,
reptiles and fish bring them into view
on the islands during this window.
We began our journey in Puerto
Ayora, the most populous town on
Santa Cruz. There we began our love

18
affair with Galapagos snorkeling. The
biodiversity was astounding, though
not always what I’d expected. I’ve
done a lot of snorkeling in warm
water, including the Red Sea, where
colorful fish and plants live among
stunning coral formations. In the
frigid waters off Santa Cruz, the
colors were muted and the sea floor
crowded with starfish, sea cucumbers
and various non-tropical fish species.
In the deep water areas, sharks swam
stealthily below us.
Las Grietas, off Santa Cruz, translates
to The Crevices. It was unforgettable.
After a water taxi ride to Finch Bay
and a 20-or-so-minute hike past a
swanky hotel and idyllic lagoons, we
swam between tall cliffs with rock
walls that plunged deep into water so
crystal-clear you could see right
down to the bottom.
The plan was to spend ten
August days islandhopping,
with the goal of
seeing as many of the
famously unique species
as we could.
affair with Galapagos snorkeling. The
biodiversity was astounding, though
not always what I’d expected. I’ve
done a lot of snorkeling in warm
water, including the Red Sea, where
colorful fish and plants live among
stunning coral formations. In the
frigid waters off Santa Cruz, the
colors were muted and the sea floor
crowded with starfish, sea cucumbers
and various non-tropical fish species.
In the deep water areas, sharks swam
stealthily below us.
Las Grietas, off Santa Cruz, translates
to The Crevices. It was unforgettable.
After a water taxi ride to Finch Bay
and a 20-or-so-minute hike past a
swanky hotel and idyllic lagoons, we
swam between tall cliffs with rock
walls that plunged deep into water so
crystal-clear you could see right
down to the bottom.

A few days later, on Isabela, we
visited the shallower waters of the
Tintoreras inlets situated just off the
island. On the short Panga ride there,
we saw penguins posted up on
volcanic-rock islands and bright red
crabs basking in the sun. Once in the
water, we spotted decades-old sea
turtles floating gracefully near the
sea floor, and sea lions swimming
close enough to grab. “I wasn’t
expecting to see the animals so
close,” Louis marveled. Louis (who
was half-French) turned out to be our
Jacques Cousteau Jr. His Go-Pro
camera was always pointed at
something and with Cristina’s help,
he documented everything we saw
above the water and below. Though
we could get very close to the
wildlife, we respected the admonition
not to touch any animals. Human
scent can cause an animal to be
alienated from its group. That being
said, while snorkeling one day,
Cristina was practically assaulted by
a sea lion determined to play.
“I wasn’t touching him…he was
touching me!” she laughed, as we
peeled off our wetsuits.
While on Isabela, we stayed in Puerto
Villamil. It is a sleepy town compared
to Puerta Ayora. On the Sunday we
arrived, all the shops were closed and
it felt nearly uninhabited. We were
lucky to find cold beer and a local
woman under a walkway bridge to
the beach frying up and selling the
most delicious homemade meat or
cheese empanadas. She made them
using cassava dough, which is gluten
free, instead of the flour dough I am
used to in the United States.
We gorged on empanadas as we took
in the spectacular Malecon Cuna del
Sol, a long white-sand beach
surrounded by palm trees and
brackish water lagoons. As I strolled
along the shore later, the black lava
rock barrier between the sand and
surf appeared to move. As I got closer
I saw hundreds of land iguanas
blending right in and sunning
themselves.
Day after day, we ticked off items on
our Galapagos bucket list. We visited

Rancho Primicias, a private farm and
tortoise sanctuary where the giant
reptiles have free range. We strolled
barefoot along the beach at
Garrapaterro, where flamingos nest in
the surrounding lagoons. We hiked
nearly 45 minute to Tortuga Bay’s
beaches to kayak and watch birds and
iguanas. An 8 mile round-trip walk
brought us to the Wall of Tears, a 20-
foot stone wall stretching more than
300 feet that was built by prisoners at
a penal colony that once existed on
Isabela Island.
We walked nearly everywhere. It
reminded Washington of his days as a
solider on the Galapagos. Weighted
down by a backpack full of gear and a
gun, he recalled using his machete to
hack his way through raw vegetation
to get from shore to shore on just
about all of the islands. Today, long
trails leading to many of the beaches
are laid with paver stones. Other
paths are made of packed earth with
wooden bridges across lagoon
marshes. Though traversing the land
is much easier than when Maria’s
parents lived there, or when
Washington was in uniform, one of
the takeaways was that a Galapagos
vacation is an active one. My
mother, who is nearly 70, is in pretty
good health and full of energy. She
observed that many of the activities
may be too challenging for families
with small children or people with a
physical infirmity, even a slight one,
due to some of the terrain like steep
steps, long walks and the need to
constantly climb in and out of small
boats.
While tourism may be the one and
only industry on the islands, the
attitude toward actual tourists can be
uneven. The owner of our hotel on
Santa Cruz barely apologized for
canceling one of our three reserved
rooms, forcing me, my mother,
Washington and Maria to be
roommates for a night.
“The main income for Galapagos is
tourism,” Santiago explained, “but
they are not focused on the service
aspect of tourism. Many of the guides
try to trick you in order for you to
hire them for everything, and they
charge you whatever they want.”
Unanticipated costs were an

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ISLAM IN
THE SLUMS
©Sarah.Ahearn

At approximately 9 pm in a favela, an urban
slum south of Sao Paulo, I was walking with few
of my hosts to buy meat from the butcher. I was
filled with that sense of adventure one gets in a
new environment.
“Hey – this looks safe. Isn’t it funny, everyone scared
me of coming to the favelas?,” I asked confidently yet
looking at my hosts for confirmation. “You are safe
because you are Kaab’s guest. People know that. Just
stay close to us,” they said without breaking their
smile.
Back in the summer of 2011, my wanderlust brought
me to Kyrgyzstan. While there, I witnessed a Muslim
family asking God to bless their vodka shots. This
paradox struck a very personal chord- how to define
my own identity in light of conflicting expectations
between my faith and the many cultures that define
me.
So, in the summer of 2015, I decided to travel around
the world visiting lesser-known Muslim communities
to answer my questions about faith,culture, and
personal identity. Brazil was the first stop of 6
countries: Brazil, Senegal, Bosnia, China, Malaysia, and
Japan. I had many plans for Brazil, but at the top of my
list was visiting Kaab Abdul.
Kaab’s story had recently taken the Brazilian media by
storm. Major news outlets visited his musalla a prayer
room, at least once a week. He was a former hip-hop
musician and rapper turned Muslim community
leader. I had to meet him, despite the many logistical
challenges. He lives in a favela, generally not known to
be safe for visitors. It is at least an hour bus ride from
Sao Paulo. And most challenging, I don’t speak
Portuguese. Kaab does not speak English.
Luckily, I connected with a Portuguese-speaking
Muslim-American PhD student on a field study trip in
Brazil. I asked him to accompany me for the trip.
Getting to Embu das Artes, the favela that Kaab calls

ammar asfour
©Ammar Asfour
home, was a challenge. We arrived at the bus station where
we were supposed to meet him after a lengthy bus ride.
After waiting for approximately an hour at the bus station
during which we visited a nearby grocery store to buy some
delicious Brazilian persimmon fruit, Kaab finally met us with
big hugs and genuine warmth that immediately eased any
worries we had.
We just wanted to talk to Kaab, and we were ready to head
back to Sao Paulo a couple of hours later. But Kaab had
other plans.
He first took us to the musalla. He was wearing a black shirt
with a Malcom X picture on it and a journalist vest that had
patches of Middle Eastern countries’ flags. The musalla was
a single room at the ground floor of the building Kaab lives
in. It was a humble place, yet it is taken care of meticulously.
A red carpet covers the ground with many individual prayer
rugs around the place. The front wall had a large electronic
clock that keeps track of prayer times and the back wall had
a large flag of Saudi Arabia. “Have you been to Mecca?”
he asked pointing at the Saudi flag. “Yes, I have been!” I
said.
“I have been to hajj. Allhamdulillah,” he told me. We
prayed the second daily prayer of the day together, and
then he walked us upstairs to his home.
Kaab was humorous, animated, and energetic. He told us
how his curiosity about Islam was triggered when he
heard the athan, the Muslim call to prayer. In 2008, he
became Muslim after learning more about Islam through
talking online to someone from Egypt. He continued to
rap. He even tried to infuse Islam into his music.
However, he found it conflicting to mix hip-hop and his
newly found faith. He now only performs poetry with no
instrumentals under the name Fragmentos de um
Muçulmano (Fragments of a Muslim).
We sat at the patio of his house overlooking the favela.
Kaab was engaging and captivating. When he was not
sharing deep thoughts about his faith and passion for the

ammar asfour
©Ammar Asfour

community, he was making us laugh. When it got
dark, we went downstairs and we prayed maghrib,
the first evening prayer, together. We went back
upstairs after that and continued talking. Meanwhile,
many of Kaab’s friends began trickling in. Almost
every 30 minutes, my friend and I looked at each
other contemplating leaving, but we were so
entrenched in the conversation that we didn’t want
to leave.
Positiv ity, hope, and faith in a better future were
generally the emotions I felt from Kaab, except when
he discussed the challenges he faced learning his
faith. It was clear to me how difficult he found it. He
points to the tattoos on his arms as an example. He
didn’t know that tattoos are not permissible in Islam.
For at least a year after he became Muslim, all the
resources he had about Islam were three book s that
his Egyptian friend sent to him. “I don’t want others to
face the same struggles,” he said with a sense of
responsibility.
“Ammar, we will have churrascaria tonight. You have
to stay the night.” Kaab told me.
“Oh. Brazilian bbq?” I asked.
“Yes!” Kaab and his friends replied.
“I love BBQ,” I said probably too enthusiastically. I
was sold. We were staying the night at Kaab’s.
Honestly though, I enjo yed being there and the food
was a mere excuse. The community was preparing to
celebrate the wedding of a couple of their own the
next day. So many friends and family were gathered.
They tried to teach me Portuguese with very little
luck. They practiced their American accents with
extremely entertaining results. My lack of knowledge
of American hip-hop music heavily disappointed
them. And most of all, the y made fun of my obsession
with taking pictures. All while Kaab was taking charge
of the BBQ pit, producing mouthwatering grilled
beef.
©Ammar Asfour
ammar asfour
These friends made up a tight community of about 20
Muslims- most new to Islam. Some live in the favela. Some
were visiting him from over 3 hours away, because they felt
more welcome in his community. At night, 5 or 6 of us were
to sleep downstairs in the musalla. Kaab stayed up with us
joking, laughing, and stealing our pillows or blankets for
whatever reason. It was clear to me that Kaab was the
anchor of this community. But, how could he do it?
It was then that I understood why. It is because not once
did he assume the role of a religious teacher. In fact, he
made it a point to not lead the prayer every time we prayed
together. He acted only as a humble community servant
leader.
Earlier in the day, I was puzzled by Kaab’s emphasis on
helping his community at large. I had asked him if at any
point in his career he thought of leaving the favela. He
responded with an emphatic no. This is his home. “But how
would Kaab heal this community?” I thought to myself. I
knew he
©Ammar Assfour

©Ammar Asfour
cared. He genuinely wanted to help not only the
Muslim community, but the larger community of the
favela. But was that enough to make a strong
community?
So, I asked him about his vision. He told me it was to
build a school for the youth in the community. I was
surprised. “Why a school?” I asked. “Most Muslim
community leaders would seek a mosque first!”
He laughed and smiled. But his eyes were serious. He
held my arm and walked me to the edge of the porch,
pointing out at the favela …
“Their way out of here is education not a worship
place,” Kaab Abdul pointed at the sprawling houses in
the urban slum. At that moment, a light bulb turned on.
“Their way
out of here is
education not a
worship place.”
I’ve traveled to over 40 countries, and I hope to travel
to more. I will never forget Kaab nor will I forget that
particular moment. It taught me that future
gener ations will struggle with their identities unless
they are empowered through learning. That moment
and that thought shaped the remainder of my trip and
my current curiosity.

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01
‘16
©DominiqueChristina
ammar asfour
PROFILES

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©CamaraClayton
military

©CamaraClayton
L I F E
L I M B
L E N S
It usually occurs at the oddest
hour of the day. You’ve spent
the last eight hours of your
life waiting to board a plane
intended for a foreign country
you cannot pronounce
correctly. You are hungry,
uncomfortable, tired, and
anxious to start out on this
journey. You have trained for
months for this mission, left
family members behind,
missed a few birthdays,
anniversaries, and other
important events.
Nevertheless, this is what you
signed up for, an adventure
like no other to see the world,
interacting with people with
diverse values and cultures.
The adventure you are about
to embark on, even though
exciting, may cost you life or
limb; but despite it all, you
gather your courage because
you are an American Soldier.
For Soldiers across the world,
traveling to distant lands
becomes a modus vivendi.
We can visit countries or
places closed off to the
worldwide public. Since
we frequently operate off
of the beaten path, we see
things that the average
traveler does not. Our
view of the world may be
different from most; after
all, we see humanity at its
extremes, both good and
bad.
I joined the military over
twenty years ago for
patriotic reasons and to
witness history. I picked
up a camera with the goal
of narrating Soldier's
stories through the lens.
It was, also, my way of
safely bringing family and
friends with me on these
risky ventures.
Despite the hostile
environment, I tried to
capture its beauty, the
inwardness of the people
and their culture. I

©CamaraClayton
Our view of the world
may be different from
most; after all, we see
humanity at its
extremes, both good
and bad.
attempted to get the viewers to put
themselves, not solely in my shoes but in the
shoes of the subject. I’d hoped that they’d
empathize and relate to a culture and a
lifestyle that is different from theirs.
Despite the social, economic, and religious
differences, I hope my lens is the conduit in
which people can discover that we are
uniquely similar and allow the bond of
humanity to bring us closer together. When
the aforementioned occurs, it allows the
Soldier a way of escaping the hardships of war
and brings them to a place of familiarity.

14

The morning
after my marriage
was consummated
I didn't feel like it
was something
to celebrate.
A shy smile sneaked from the side
of the clay brick structure. A round
and flawless deep brown face with
mischievous eyes that squinted
whenever she laughed at my
broken attempts at Nyanja. She
held hands with a little boy,
barefoot and eager to run with the
other little children in the distance.
He tugged on her arm and she
finally let him go. She told me his
name was Jacob.
“Is that your brother?” I asked.
Her eyes squinted and she laughed
again. “No, he is mine.”
And then it was over. When she
turned, I saw the baby- a lump
beneath red, orange and yellow
printed chitenge material. It was
asleep and all that peeked from the
cloth was a tuft of kinky hair. The
girl I took for an older sister,
somebody’s daughter, dutifully
caring for her siblings was in fact a
wife and second time mother, at 16.
This was my introduction to child
marriage, 568 kilometers from
Zambia’s capital city of Lusaka. I
was at the end of a seemingly
endless stretch of dry, brown road
that took me to Luangeni village in
Eastern Province’s Chipata District.
It is rural, with clusters of mud
brick, thatch-roof homes spread
out between kilometers of miombo
and acacia trees..

18
On the drive back, I passed
more villages and the
landscape gradually changed
from rural to town back to the
highway home. I thought
about my childhood dreams of
marriage, a Cinderella-esque
fairy tale long since dissipated
with age. Every young face
and baby-laden frame I
passed now made me wonder.
How old are you? How did you
get here? How has this
changed your dreams?
This was my
introduction to child
marriage, 568
kilometers from
Zambia’s capital city of
Lusaka. I was at the end
of a seemingly endless
stretch of dry, brown
road that took me to
Luangeni village in
Eastern Province’s
Chipata District.
Three months later, I met Musu
and she told me everything.
Musu Bakoto Sawo stood
amidst a crowd of dignitaries
and delegates from over 40
African nations telling her story
at the first African Girls’
Summit held in Lusaka, Zambia
in late November. She pleaded
for the

GRIOTS REPUBLIC | JANUARY 2016 19
end of the tradition and when she
finished and took her seat, she tucked
into her friend’s shoulder and cried.
"Let us not call it child marriage
because it's not marriage,” said African
Union Goodwill Ambassador and
secretary general of the Young
Women’s Christian Association
(YWCA) Nyaradzayi Gumbonzvanda
from the stage. “It is abduction, rape
and a criminal act."
Musu was 10 when she developed a
love for activism, joining the child-led
advocacy group “Voice of the Young” in
her native Gambia.
At 14 years old, her family told her she
was to be married to a man of 27. A
patriarchal society, Gambian fathers
and uncles make these decisions while
most mothers remain quiet- bound by
tradition and often, internal conflict.
Musu was in junior high and thought
her world had come to an end. She
didn’t eat for weeks.
"The morning after my marriage was
consummated I didn't feel like it was
something to celebrate. I was hurting,”
she said. “I felt like all my activism
didn’t matter since I became a part of
what I was advocating against."
By the age of 22, she was a widowed
mother and a student- a law graduate of
the University of Gambia and then LLM
graduate student at the University of
Pretoria. Her husband died in her third
year of renal failure. This tragedy and
her mandated time of mourning made
her degree completion seem
impossible.
“Never in a million years would I have
It is a double-edged sword of
young advocates opposing
the customs and the older
community seeking a space
for long-entrenched
tradition.
thought I’d come this far,” said Musu.
“At 14, I was forced to grow up; I
became someone’s wife, but education
was always the main priority of my life.”
The social activist and lawyer has now
made it her life’s mission to show girls and
women in Gambia that they too can
succeed no matter their circumstances.
Currently the program manager at Think
Young Women, she speaks and works
throughout the country advocating for
women.

CONNECT
Think Young Women
It is in her country, Gambia, that 36
percent of women are married by age
18 and 76 percent of women are cut, or
victims of female genital mutilation.
During the conference, the country
made headlines after President Yahya
Jammeh banned female genital
mutilation (FGM) saying it is not
required in Islam. The ban is not a law
and many advocacy organizations hope
the proclamation will lead to a domino
effect amongst other countries on the
continent.
Besides governmental law, the law of
the land makes fighting the issues a
sensitive matter. It is a double-edged
sword of young advocates opposing
the customs and the older community
seeking a space for long-entrenched
tradition. When Musu returned from
Zambia, her mother-in-law was not
interested in discussing child marriage
and specifically FGM.
“You have succeeded in bringing an
end to a culture that we so value,
something that we are religiously
obligated to perform,” said her motherin-law.
At Think Young Women (TYW), Musu
and her board advocate for ending
child marriage and FGM in addition to
working women leadership through
outreach and mentoring. It is when
venturing into Gambia’s provinces that
they are met with the opinions of older
women.
They are reluctant to talk, seeing TYW
and advocates like them as harbingers of
change and immorality. To these women,
child marriage is tradition and customs
like FGM reduce female promiscuity.
Despite the dispelling of the myth that
FGM is a religious custom, these women
still believe it is an obligation- the
distinction between culture and religion
long ago blurred.
The negative effects of the customs are
undeniable and visible from The Gambia
to Zambia. Girls who marry before age
18 are more likely to experience
unwanted pregnancies and less likely to
complete primary and secondary school.
Musu threatened suicide if her husband
and his family, whom she moved in with
after marriage, didn’t allow her to
continue her studies.
The health consequences of early and
forced marriage range from a high
percentage of physical, mental,
emotional and sexual abuse within the
union to obstetric fistulas- a common
condition in young mothers where a
hole between the vagina and rectum or
bladder caused by prolonged
obstructed labor leaves a woman
incontinent of urine or feces or both.
The four types of female genital
mutilation further complicate sex and
delivery.
Practiced in at least 28 countries in sub-
Saharan Africa, the Middle East and
parts of Asia. The circumcisers are
often community women and relatives,
who have themselves been cut in youth.
Although FGM also occurs among

“Never in a
million years
would I have
thought I’d
come this far.”
Christians, animists and Jews, the
prevalence amongst Muslim-majority
countries had led to the false belief that
it is tied to Islam. FGM actually predates
Islam and the majority of Muslims do not
practice the tradition.
“The Quran preaches peace, not bringing
harm to another person,” said lawyer
and author of “Delinking FGM from
Islam” Sheik Ib rahim Lethome. “I cannot
keep quiet when Islam is being misused.”
Every time she has a platform, Musu
speaks. She speaks for the 14-year-old
child bride she was and for the young
girls listening who think their marriage
equals the demise of their futures.
E D I T O R I A L
GRIOTSREPUBLIC.COM | January 2016

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NESSTM
#WhatsNext in Urban Travel
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PROFILES
01
‘16

DOCUMENTING
NATIVE IDENTITY
captures through her lens and every story that is
shared with her has a sense of beauty but also
urgency. Beauty in that there are people working
to keep the culture thriving, and urgency in that
there are many obstacles in preserving the culture
and educating others about its true history.
When Matika Wilbur set out on her journey across the
country in an RV, her mission was to visit places not
marked on the typical American sightseeing map, to
chart the places filled with just as many artifacts,
culture, and stories waiting to be heard. These are the
stories of a people that make up the 562 Native
American Tribes federally recognized throughout the
United States. Over the course of three years, Wilbur
tasked herself with capturing images of Native people
living in Western Society and exhibiting them in the
aptly named, Project 562.
Throughout her travels the old adage, “There are two
sides to every story” rings true. Every picture she
As cultures are fighting to be heard, to matter, and
for their history not be washed over with stories of
peaceful exchanges rather than the first steps of
erasure, acknowledgements like the recent push to
rename Christopher Columbus Day as Indigenous
People’s Day is a step in a different direction.
Wilbur’s art makes the Indigenous voice even more
public.
When it comes to the mission of her photography,
Wilbur “always believed that it would be necessary
for our voices to be heard in massive media.” Her
work has garnered attention but she insists on the
spotlight being on the work and the issues
effecting Native communities such as student

Juanita Toledo (Pueblo of Jemez), 2015
dropouts and the disproportionally
higher rates in which Native women are
sexually assaulted.
“I’m just this girl from the Res exposing
truths from the Res,” she said. “I think
that it [the exhibition] has gotten a lot
of exposure because the people need
that.”
In an upcoming exhibit, debuting at
Harvard on April 28, 2016, Wilbur will
honor Native women and “give life to
some of the beautiful, powerful, and
profound women in the community
working hard to maintain our
connection to the mother earth.” There
will also be a small book that will be
published to coincide with the exhibit to
honor Native women. Other projects
include documenting the work of
the Sierra Seeds Company; a Native
company cultivating Native seed
“Our identity is primarily in the land
and when we respect the mother we
also honor and respect our women,” she
said. “What I found all over the country
are stories of people raping and
pillaging the mothers. Lack of access to
clean water, and all of the ways that we
are exploiting the mother earth, I think
is directly connected to the way we
exploit our native women.”
Through her art, Wilbur also aims to
expand the education of Native and
non- Native people. It’s crucial to not
only to reverse negative images, but
alleviate the pressure of most Native
people who find themselves being the
only representative of their culture in
most educational settings. “A lot of
native people don’t go to school
prepared to be an ambassador or
educator to those who are supposed
to be educating them,” she said.
Though her mission is selfless, she did
note the physical effects the project
has taken on her. “It’s really hard
what I’m doing; the toll that it has
taken on my body to live on people’s
couches and in an RV for three
years,” she said. “I developed
allergies, I’ve aged, I don’t get to work
out as much as I would like to, but I
see it as there isn’t any other option.
We need it. People’s minds have to
change about Native America in
order to affect public policy, and
that’s something I can do.”

“What I found all over the country
are stories of people raping and
pillaging the mothers. Lack of
access to clean water, and all of the
ways that we are exploiting the
mother earth, I think is directly
connected to the way we exploit
our native women.”
Matika Wilbur
Darkfeather, Bibiana and Eckos Ancheta (Tulalip), 2014.

Dr. Mary Evelyn Belgarde (Pueblo of Isleta and Ohkay Owingeh), 2014.
Wilbur also points out that paying for
her trip was no small task. She turned
to crowdfunding to make it possible.
Her project was not only fully funded,
she exceeded her goal, yet it was still
a humbling experience, according to
Wilbur. “You’re asking people to
believe in your dreams,” she said.
Crowd funding allowed her to
continue working to capture and
highlight the identities of Nat ive
people. In regards to her own identity,
Wilbur describes it as “complex.” She
represents her mother’s tribe
Swinomish and her father’s tribe
Tulalip but is enrolled as a Tulalip due
to a federal policy that allows only
one tribal enrollment.
Despite the hardships associated with
her project, she insists that the people
she has encountered on her journey
have strengthened her resolve, in the
fact, that th ere are many more steps
to be taken in order to educate others
about Indigenous peoples. She
contends that Indigenous people
must also be able to accurately
identify with their own culture in
safe spaces, on and off the
designated areas sanctioned by the
United States.
A long term goal for Wilbur includes
more traveling to discover tribes
around the world and also bringing
her art directly to the public. With
funding, she is looking forward to
the creation of a traveling long
house exhibition, a “nomadic
exhibition that would look like it
belongs in a space of sacredness.”
She wants the exhibition to feel
authentic, complete with a “dirt
floor and fire, and stories that are
going to stay with us in a setting
that feels really safe to Indigenous
people."
She dreams of an exhibition space,
"where we can invite kids to see
She wants the
exhibition to feel
authentic, complete
with a “dirt floor and
fire, and stories that
are going to stay with
us in a setting that
feels really safe to
Indigenous people."
it and they are not going to feel like they
are being pushed by white-walled
institutions with track lighting.”
To find out more about Matika's art or
to help her create her exhibition by
donating to her project, please visit
MatikaWilbur.com or Project562.com.
You can also follow her journey on
Instagram @MatikaWilbur.
P H O T O G R A P H E R R E V I E W

B A R R I S T O U R I S T A

scavenger hunt

scavenger hunt
1
WINNING
TEAM

ack page
www.GriotsRepublic.com