Monday 17 October 2016

 Places of Memory


We all have our personal maps of memory. Places we remember and we always carry with us no matter in which place we actually are. We decided to draw our personal maps of places that we come from. They are not always accurate in a geographical sense but these are contours of our homes that we have in our hearts. We marked places that are important for us – where we were born, went to school, worked or where our family or friends are. All maps were very different because we all have different pasts. Afterwards, we went for a walk in Ragusa trying to find places that remind us our homes, starting at the centre Via Carducci. We had to change a perspective, being attentive to what may be familiar in the new place that Ragusa is for all of us. We put these pictures on our maps of memory, creating the new landscape of memory, merging the past with the present, familiar with the new.  This form of a dialogue took a form of Maps of Memory.
“They have this kind of arches in Senegal. I was passing by them every day in Dakar” Modou

“This is the tamare, the palm tree. But there are not so many palm trees in Gambia. I remember I was eating coconuts from them in Bakalar” Kawsu
“It reminds me the time in my childhood. We used to go to the bush, find coconuts and bring them home for the family” Molifa

“It reminds me the place I used to work in Gambia, they had these trees with flowers there, capstrena” Molifa
“These pictures were taken at the centre on via Carducci in Ragusa. In my workplace in Gambia I was doing mechanical maintenance. There were a lot of safety signs, high pressure pumps and fire extinguishers. “ Mohammed




“When I was a child my grandma had a lot of chickens in her garden. I took this picture in the Jesuit house where I stayed in Ragusa” Martyna

“I remember when my mother was teaching me names of the trees. This is akacja, we have a lot of them in Poland” Martyna

“This is a flag of Poland on a hand of my new friend from Senegambia that I met at the centre Fondazione San Giovanni Battista” Martyna

“It reminds me the time when I was Libya looking for a job. They called these places chart places.” Mohammed

“When I used to go to the beach in Gambia I saw similar fish, the red and white ones” Kawsu


“This football field reminds me of my friends, of my childhood, of funny and sunny moments” Margherita
“This looks like my house’s street , it reminds me my home and family” Margherita

“No description needed. My city. Capital of Italy, Roma” Margherita


Saturday 1 October 2016

THE SEA THE SEA THE SEA



The sea. The sea. The sea.
Wasn't it me standing at your coast two days ago, Mediterranean sea, about
to plunge into your flood?
With this childish happiness in my heart, freedom felt at the sea is somehow
special.
Floating in the water on my back, moved by your waves, late summer's sun
shining on my face.


The sea. The sea. The sea.
One minute. "The sea". Letter for letter spelled out. „T. H. E.  S. E. A.“

„The sea is hell. Just hell.“
My counterpart - We met just one week ago - is telling me about his journey
 over the Mediterranean Sea. We are playing cards.
About his hell, it happened in February 2016. „On the left side of the boat in
the back. One leg in the water, one in the boat.
 Around 150 people.“ Until the moment of being rescued he didn't even know
about the existence of a country called Italy.

Mediterranen Sea, from this day on I will stand at your coastal lines in a
different way, your saltwater will feel so different on my skin.