Tuareg

When I was about twelve, I was going through my father's extensive collection of National Geographic Magazine, and I came across a picture that stayed in my mind and memory to this day. The photographs in the magazine are world famous for their impact and quality, and I remember seeing a close-up portrait of a young geisha that mesmerized me for a lifetime. I remember a photograph of a newly wed couple in Kolkata, and to this day, I remember being transfixed by the abundance of 24 karat gold jewelry, the beauty of the bride and groom, and the striking colors of bright white and red in their garments. I also have a vivid memory of a picture of a young Tuareg warrior, in the dark blue turban many of their men are famous for wearing. He had the most amazing eyes, as his face was mostly covered, and I found it fascinating that their women were not required to wear veils, and enjoyed a high status in their nomadic pastoral culture. He was tall, looked strong,and even though I could only see his eyes, I thought he was very handsome. I have always been drawn to the idea of a nomadic life style, close to nature, and free of the trappings of a sedentary life. The geographic area of the majority of the Tuareg people, whose name means " noble and free men", is in Niger, Mali, Burkina Faso, Algeria and Libya. There is also a small community in northern Nigeria. I will always remember the first time I saw a friend of mine who is from Morocco. Before I even was introduced to him via a mutual friend in graduate school, I was struck by his height and features and was taken back to the picture of the Tuareg warrior. I do not know where my friend's family originated, as there are some Tuareg also in Morocco, but my friend struck me by a unique dignity and left an impression long before we even met. This world is such a fascinating place, and I feel fortunate to have had an opportunity to travel and study abroad,and meet people from all over the globe. I was exposed this way to many cultures, and many languages. As an undergraduate, I had a Nigerian roommate for a year, Cordelia O., a bright woman from Lagos who was getting a master's degree in economics. It was fascinating to me to hear her speak her native language when she called home, to learn about her village, her family, to taste some of the food she grew up with. In graduate school I had a Korean roommate, and the following year a Japanese roommate, and a Bolivian and French roommate. It was fun when Yoko would get a call from her boyfriend in Tokyo, and to hear them speak Japanese for sometimes hours on the phone. I was around Hindi through my good friend Raj from Trivandrum in southern India. I was around Arabic  through my friendship with a woman from Nebraska, Lesa P., who was married to an Egyptian man, and through our mutual friendship with a friend from Morocco. Now, I have a hairdresser who is a good friend from Vietnam, and I spend hours hanging around her and her extensive family at their beauty shop, listening to the melodious sounds of the Vietnamese language. I am Flemish, so I was taught French at an early age, and German and English. When I came to Texas for college, I decided to learn Spanish and ended up getting a Master's degree in Spanish and Latin American Literature from the University of Texas in Austin. I love languages, because it is a way to connect directly to another culture, and learn what unites us, rather than what divides us. I remember the gentle sounds of the Mayan language in the villages close to Chitzen Itza in Cozumel, the sounds of Lingala when I was in Kinshasa a few years later. I remember my uncle Frederic Minne, son of Baron Georges Minne, who was married to my aunt Agnes, my mother's older sister. He had spent 10 years near the Kivu Lake before the revolution of 1964 in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. He spoke fluent Swahili, and would tell entire stories in the language, and then translate. I would listen to him as a twelve year old, transfixed by the exotic sounds. I am learning about the language of the Magreb region of North Africa, Tamazight, and am fascinated to learn it is one of the oldest languages of human kind. I recently was introduced to the Indonesian language through a fascinating 2011 movie, called "The Raid- Redemption". I was intrigued to learn Indonesian, which vaguely sounded to me in part like Portuguese, has a 1,000 words borrowed from Arabic. And there are hundreds of languages out there. My father once quoted a saying that always validated my travel hunger: "The world is a large book, of which those who never stir from home only read a page." I am glad I still have the fever to learn, to travel, to understand, and to continue to be amazed at the variety of cultures and languages on our planet.