In 2008, I wandered away from my group of friends as we strolled along Hayes St. during an art fair. The entire block was lined with booths selling artwork to tourists and locals. While the restaurants, cafes, and specialty shops imparted a nice vibe to the area, it wasn’t much different from other up-and-coming affluent neighborhoods, save for a couple of galleries. Then, I ended up on the corner of Octavia and Ivy St. where a crowd had gathered. A man whose face was painted, his body covered in wooden ornaments and trinkets, stood eerily in a cloud of incense. He delivered incantations in a language I could not understand, with the intensity that matched the dozen or so drummers that sat around him, their beats resounding with the momentum of a freight train out of Africa. Later, I’d come to understand this ceremony I’d witnessed as a libation to ancestors, performed in the Yoruba language, as spoken in Nigeria. That became my reason to go to Hayes Valley. I had arrived at the African Outlet, which is among the greatest, and perhaps least known cultural resources in San Francisco. I’ve since come to discover, and become a part of, the vibrant community that’s emerged from this corner. It’s a village within the City, made up of artists, musicians, dancers, writers, regulars, and curious passersby. And yet, after 20 years in Hayes Valley, the African Outlet was priced out of its increasingly trendy neighborhood. Though I now live in Chicago, my hope is that each time I do return to visit, there will still be a place in San Francisco to find rare African treasures (and their stories), scented oils, reams of handmade jewelry, woven fabrics, cowrie shells, or to just listen to Fela tunes. If you’d like to help save the African Outlet and contribute towards its establishment as San Francisco’s first African Cultural Center, check out this campaign!
Posted on: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 00:45:16 +0000
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