day twelve......

Angola prison in Lousianna  has a rodeo.  As I drove along my daily routine I happened to catch a radio show on NPR called KUOW Presents and it just happened to be the bit about Angola.  The thing that stuck with me the most was the statement;

“At the time of the hurricane, I really felt that so much of culture in terms of our music and food would be lost.  It was ironic for me to realize as we had the rodeo two months after Katrina and Rita struck, that the smells and tastes were still alive in Angola through the inmates who were from those devastated areas.

The inmates are preserving culture from prison.  They kept a unique beloved part of Louisiana culture alive for people who had traveled all across the world to come and see this wild rodeo show.  It was ironic to see how much of our culture had not been lost because so much of our culture happens to be in a maximum security prison.”

Much of our culture had not been lost because so much of our culture happens to be in a maximum security prison.  I am left wondering several things, why is it we turn to those people who have been locked away, those discarded from society to be our keepers of culture?  Why are we so out of touch that we no longer keep track of our cultural heritage individually, as if who we are is no longer something to take pride in?  As I struggle to find my cultural heritage, from West Africa through Freetown, to Mexico where it remained hidden along the coast of Oaxaca and hopefully soon back again to Freetown, I struggle against the loss of such culture and am reminded at this moment just how important this story is for myself and for us all.