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Politics (the Guardian)

More than 30,000 poverty-stricken Afro-Bolivians feel overlooked in a country that recently approved its first ‘multiethnic and pluricultural’ constitution. But now, for the first time since they arrived in Bolivia as slaves in the 16th-century, attitudes to them seem to be changing. Julio Pinedo is one of the many African Bolivians who make a living growing coca, but he has discovered that he is a direct descendant of Bonifaz, a tribal king from Senegal, and is now being crowned the first Afro-Bolivian king in 500 hundred years

Monday December 10th 2007

Julio Pinedo at the moment of his coronation in La Paz. Photograph: Andrés Schipani

My father died when I was three, leaving me and two other brothers, but my brothers died quite young. Life is harsh here; it’s no surprise that people die young. My mother remarried. She didn’t care much about me, and she didn’t see any future in the town of Mururata. She had no idea about our ‘royal’ lineage; my ancestors were, like other Africans, brought to work in the Bolivian gold and silver mines of Potosí. Because of the weather – it was too cold for the Africans to stay there – the Spaniards realised that they were losing slaves, so they moved the ‘Afros’ to a place where the climate was friendlier.

I was raised by my grandfather. It was my great-grandfather who moved from the mines to the coca fields in the Yungas region [an area in the eastern piedmont of the Bolivia’s Andes Mountains]. And then my grandfather, who was called Bonifacio I by many, was heading the personnel at the hacienda [country estate]. He was rough. He used to carry a whip, and the same whip he used with the workers he used with us. We had to work, yes or yes; there was no option. But I used to laugh when they called him Bonifacio I.

It was a bit like a slave scheme, but as everybody was ‘Afro’ we were used to being treated like slaves. We grew citrus, coffee and most of all coca – the ‘sacred’ leaf, as this is what gives us life. Without coca there would be nothing in the Yungas. Coca is our means of support; it allows our children to go to school; it feeds us, dresses us and gives us life. People don’t understand that it is not a drug. We don’t even know how to make cocaine; we have never touched it, seen it or tasted it.

I have to admit that we were privileged, as my grandfather was kind of a first among equals. He was in charge of the hacienda and used to work a lot, so people respected him. During his last years people used to call him ‘king’. I was about 20 and had no idea what they were talking about. But then he died and somebody showed me a book about some guy named Bonifaz, a Senegalese king whose son was brought over by the Portuguese as a slave.

It’s an old book, the letters are almost erased by now, but apparently it was true. The book was somehow misplaced and got into the patrons’ hands, and one of their sons started to investigate it. He then had a word with the village authorities – the mayor and the elders – and the people from the community started to tell me: “You are the heir, you have to be crowned.”

At first I had no idea what they were talking about, and I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. But they kept insisting. Then I said: “OK, I’ll do it.” That was in 1992. I was crowned, but just in my little town – nothing very official and I wasn’t really into it. And then the people started to lose interest, and so did I. For me it was a waste of time: growing coca was my priority as I had to work and feed my family. There is still poverty among Afro-Bolivians.

But then, somehow, Saya [Afro-Bolivian music] started to get popular in the area – and in the country as well – and people started to realise that we, the Afro-Bolivians, existed. We are the last in a country of forgotten people. We have an indigenous government, but we are not considered indigenous, and we are not part of the white minority, of course. So we are just forgotten. But we are not slaves any more: we are free people, free farmers. We’re poor but free, and we would like the country to know – the world to know – that we exist.

As the younger generations started to make Saya popular, they said: “We have a king, let’s show it to the world.” They caught me right at the time when I was about to abdicate. They said to me: “No, this is something that you have to do. You can’t leave us. You are our king, by right and blood, and we need you more than ever now. We need to be recognised – we need to have the rights we have been denied for the past 500 years.” And what can you say to that? Nothing: you just do it.

I am carrying a lineage that came from Bonifaz, and maybe after I die my son Rolando, who is 12 years old, will be king. But we don’t know yet. I mean, I’ll prepare him because he’s in line, but he has other responsibilities now, like studying. So if he gets to be king he can be a great one, and be more prepared than I was.

I have just been crowned again, but this time it was in Bolivia’s capital, La Paz, for the whole country to know – for the whole world to know. Listen, there are drums and people dancing. They’re singing: “The time has come for Julio Pinedo to be crowned as the new king.” Listen carefully. They want me and they think they need me. Well, again, what can I say to that? I have to work for my people.

It will be more problematic now than the last time I was crowned: there are more responsibilities. And there are things to tidy up, like why we are not fully recognised in the new constitution. Still, this government [Evo Morales’] has welcomed us quite well. There are some people who think we are doing this merely for political reasons, that we came to the city simply to offend. I am trying to make people understand that I am doing this for my people, for them to be recognised.

Being the Afro-Bolivian king – their first among equals – means a lot; I am realising that now. It is a position of utmost responsibility. I will do it proudly, as long as my people support me, as long as we will walk together, because I am not that much of a political animal anyway. But working for the ‘Afros’ will be a difficult task, and I will be dealing with very delicate situations. I am the only African king in South America.

But now, after the crowning, I am tired. Too many travels, too many interviews, too much city for a simple coca and citrus grower like me. I am going to pack my crown now. I’m going back to Yungas to play Saya music, and keep growing coca, coffee and citrus in peace, and start working for my people.

I think we are heading in the right direction. I came here so that the people could get to know me and also to gain recognition for the Afro-Bolivians – the black race that we are so proud to be. I want to show that Bolivia is not only indigenous but black. We might be black, but we are not slaves. No, not at all.

• Julio Pinedo was interviewed by Andrés Schipani in La Paz.

Youssou n’Dour

Youssou n’Dour was born in Dakar in 1959 and began singing as a child performer at neighborhood gatherings in the tough Medina section of Dakar, Senegal, West Africa. He took formally to the stage at age 12 and by his mid-teens was singing regularly with the Star Band, the most successful group in Senegal at that time. In 1979, he formed his own ensemble, the Etoile de Dakar, which, by 1981, had evolved into The Super Etoile. The most famous band in Africa, The Super Etoile, guided by Youssou N’Dour has crafted and invented a thoroughly modern African pop style, one which has gone on to influence artists as diverse as Peter Gabriel and Paul Simon.

Friday night hussel music

look at us : fader feature

Wearing Spirit: Aesthetically Personifying the Feminine in African Sacred Traditions Multi-media Exhibition

In honor of Women’s History Month, the Caribbean Cultural Center African Diaspora Institute (CCCADI) is pleased to present “Wearing Spirit: Aesthetically Personifying the Feminine in African Sacred Traditions” a multi-media exhibition of paintings, sculpture, photography, textile art, video and installations honoring the power of the Feminine present in African Sacred Traditions.

While African Sacred Traditions exist within a context of gender duality of masculine/feminine, this exhibition specifically explores the complex fabric of female personalities in indigenous African spirituality. Work in the exhibition captures the essence and power of the female deities, priestesses, and prophets that have served as instruments of balance and grounding within indigenous African spiritual systems and their derivatives.

Artists attempt to answer such questions as: Who are the gatekeepers of the spirit and physical realms? Who are the most prominent female divinities? What are the roles of female priestesses and prophets in a contemporary context? How is feminine energy shaping the future of these traditions?

This show is an awe-inspiring reflection of the universal essence that is cosmically feminine. It also highlights the traditional West African systems of Akan, Vodun and Yoruba and their Diasporan counteparts along with other rituals and rites-of-passage ceremonies.

In 2010, people are still being persecuted for their devotion to these indigineous belief systems. Most recently, there are reports of Haitian earthquake survivors being denied food and assistance as well as having their temples and altars desecrated and destroyed by evangelical Christians, simply for their practice of Vodun. Additionally, there needs to be a resurgence of earth-based practices during times of environmental disintegration. These traditions must be preserved and celebrated and this exhibition further educates the general masses to the cosmic energy that is Feminine and Sacred.

Opening Reception:
Thursday, March 11, 2010
6 – 8:30 p.m.

On View:
March 12 – May 21, 2010

Featuring the Work of:
Ama Bentsi-Enchill
Firelei Baez
Aisha Bell
Dineo Bopape
Valerie Caesar
Karen Carraway
Sonya Clark
Malik Cumbo
Michael Cummings
Paul Deo
Kenneth Dossar
Cassi Amanda Gibson
Nakeisha Gumbs
Bethanie Hines
Imo Nse Imeh
Marcia Jones
William Jones
J’Renee
Stephanie Keith
Ananda Leeke
Sandrine Malary
Aaqil Ka
frank d. robinson, jr.
Deborah Singletary
Noelle Lorraine Williams
Paula Wynter

Curated by:
Shantrelle P. Lewis

Experimental mosaic portrait of Senegalese-American R&B singer-producer, Akon by Tsevis Visual Design. This illustration belongs to the ongoing “Africa 2010″ project studying the great African pattern heritage and mixing it with contemporary subcultures

Gloria Isabel Rivera

Another important element in her art is the use of self-portrait as representation of social issues that are constantly surrounding women, or human beings, trying to initiate a reflection not only using images where she herself stands for diverse situations created by people or other factors, but questioning their roll in nowadays society.