Showing posts with label africa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label africa. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 06, 2013

fold


Header Challenge: fold

May 6, 2013

Katney picked "fold" for today's challenge. I was afraid it would be tricky, but once I started looking, I found it wasn't too hard to find good folds to use. Check out my  pals for their interpretations on this theme: Fishing  Guy, Katney, Imac and Lew.

This week I picked African headwraps from Sierra Leone for my header.  It's like one long satin scarf that they wind and fold to create a distinguished and ornate, flower-like flare to their attire.  I do not remember the women's exact title, but these ladies were like the "Aunties," or esteemed friends of the Mother-in-Law.  Trying to photograph a wedding from another culture can have its challenges, but I was honored that they asked me.

folding and stretching homemade taffy  (Mrs. Craver snapped this shot.)
Yes, that's me on the left.  My good friend Sharon is on the right.

little girl in a giant pile of folded paper flowers

African headwraps from Sierra Leone

Friday, January 05, 2007

lesson from africa

Somewhere in Africa, a father walks, accompanied by village elders and warrior-mentors, to the hut where his son lives. That boy lives with his mother. She is one of several wives to the boy’s father who now stands outside her hut.

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The father does not come in but announces the name of his son, and calls upon the lad to come out. He will keep calling until his son comes out and joins the men. But this does not happen without resistance from the mother. She blocks the way and begs the men not to take him, saying it is too soon. But, the decision has been made, and they will not relent.

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The boy steps out from behind his tearful mother. She cries, because she will not see him for a year. He will remain in the men’s camp, isolated from women and children as he is ushered through the rites of passage into manhood. After the training, he will be a hunter, a warrior, a man.

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This process is significant enough that if the village has a 16-year old who is “called out.” And a 40-year old who is not, the 16-year old is a man, but the 40-year old is still a boy.

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To the best of my memory, that’s how Norm Wakefield begins his talk on The Calling Out of a Son.

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We live in a time and place where boys and men are distinguished by the prices of their toys. Instead of finding a helpmeet to provide for, they marry a mother-substitute, who is expected to take care of their needs. It should not surprise us that grown women have a problem submitting to the leadership of …boys.

My oldest son turns 17 at the end of January. I have decided that it is time to “call him out.”