d-pict | dance odyssey

After a few days of catching up on chores, I took a stroll and lost myself in the laneways south of Graca. I emerged at the Mirador of Portos do Sol about 12 noon. It's a large, public, paved area, with views over the city to the ocean-blue estuary. There was a crowd: a TV crew shooting a talking head segment, buskers, a few African hawkers selling jewellery to tourists. The buskers were a 3-piece band … drums, strings and vocals, playing reggae in the sunshine. I started grooving and danced solo for a few tunes – the sea breeze and the distant, sparkling waves danced with me.   I noticed a woman quietly appreciating the music and enquired if she was also a visitor in Lisbon. I learned that Liz was from Cuba, today exploring Lisbon for the first time. She had flown to Lisbon from Angola one day before, on her way to start a new life in Madrid. It was easy for us to chat because she is fluent in Spanish as well as Portuguese, so I invited her to join me for lunch.  The ba...

The polished cream stone pavements and glazed, geometric tiles of the classic old buildings give Lisboa an unusual scaly sheen, fitting for a city of fish-eaters. Perhaps the town planners and architects took inspiration from the sea, like Gaudi did in Barcelona... but instead of curvy follies, they laid crazy pavement mosaics and fancifully tiled whole facades. The narrow streets cobbled in dark stone like the skin of an ancient oceangoing dinosaur, often give a glimpse of the sea. Most restaurants will offer you more than a taste of it, chargrilled and very fresh for a handful of coin.   My first Portuguese meal was at Flor de Sapadores, in Penha de França. No frills white tile, plastic and metal decor... but i figure if all the grandmas eat there it must be good. I never saw such a convivial gathering of independent, happy pensioners. Without understanding the menu, I ordered one of five kinds of fish. I was not disappointed: two very fresh whole fish chargrilled, side sala...

Cyril is a well of knowledge with a passion for African diaspora culture, and he kindly hosted me for a few days Lyon. I scratched the surface of his wonderful library – always a source of inspiration. I'm looking forward to his forthcoming book, Voices of the Diaspora. Cyril remarked on how I helped him to discover new things in his own city. I marvelled at the serenity of his apartment and of Lyon in general. The quiet of Lyon after the roar, the bustle of Bali, was astonishing. Structurally Lyon is my ideal city: bike friendly, walkable urban planning, elegant tree-top apartment blocks, shady courtyards, turquoise rivers, steep hills and lookouts. There are also many beautiful Afro-French ppl, most notably the gorgeous diva of Trio Aliado who we heard at the Opera terrace. This lady almost made me cry with her beauty, her powerful stage presence. I was moved to tears with empathy for a younger me... otherworldly, head-turning and for all I knew, utterly unique. Of co...

Like most migrants she brings to a her new home the energy to realise all of her hopes and dreams.  I saw the distinctive silhouette of Michele's twisted Afro hair, and our eyes met as I walked past her Jamaican restaurant.  The next day I popped in to say hi. Straightaway there was a friendly recognition ... she is from Jamaica by way of New York. I am from the neighbouring island of Barbados, by way of Ireland, USA, Australia. A stocky woman (in her 50s?), M had beautiful smooth golden skin, full lips and huge green eyes behind black-rimmed spectacles, her hair dyed dark plum red. She said she would like to have hair like mine one day. We talked about the benefits and challenges of having natural hair. M. said she was done with straightening. Natural all the way. You know your people are oppressed when their default position is to use expensive chemicals in order to resemble the dominant social group or their standards of beauty. As some women need plastic surgery i...