Back in Accra

Well, for the last stint of this trip I am staying about 15 minutes from the University of Ghana campus in a neighborhood that is probably the equivalent of Hinsdale, IL back in the States. If it weren't for the dirt roads and high gates with barbed wire it would almost be home. Five other SIT gals and I are living in the west wing of a two story "mansion" dubbed the Italian House, in an area called Christan Center. I love the neighborhood. The walk from the taxi stop at the "FUUD SHAK" to Italian House is always amusing. Of course there are the ever present Abruni calls. Yesterday, one guy yelled out his second story window, "Abruni, I love you!" (No worries G, you've no reason to be jealous.) It's all a game in their eyes, so I've discovered it's easier if you just play it off. There are usually kids in the street playing "football" and the other night there were even a couple of guys playing guitar, which they let me play for a bit. It has been far too long since I had my hands on a guitar. It was wonderful, however poorly it sounded.
Just down the street from us there is a "large" shopping mall, with an international grocery store. Definitely Abruni central. I'm discovering living here is a very good thing, since it will help me slowly re-affiliate myself with Western culture. We've even gone to a couple of movies at "The Living Room", a place where, for $10.00 you can rent out a room for six and watch the DVD of your choosing on a wide-screen TV.
Contrary to how it may sound, I'm not spending all my time at movie theaters and grocery stores (though I did spend at least 10 minutes staring through the glass at the greatly over-priced Ben and Jerry's in the freezer section). We still walk 3 blocks carrying gigantic bags filled of satchels of pure water on our heads, and we still buy much of our food from the street vendors, most of which know us by name. Oh, and there is also that independent research project I'm working on.
It's actually incredibly exciting. I've had a few interviews (complete with hand-held camera!) with individuals practicing Islam or Christianity here in Ghana. I traveled to a mosque, on Good Friday ironically. On the way there a couple of guys handed me "The Passion of Christ" saying I should watch it and repent. They continued the conversation with "Are you a Christian?" and later, "Can we take you to the beach sometime?" The final question was, "where was I headed?" and it would have been great to respond "to the mosque", but I just told them I was meeting my friend. Unfortunately, I couldn't go inside the mosque because it was so crowded (people were even praying outside) but I got a chance to do a few interviews. One of the SIT friends is a Muslim and has been unbelievably helpful through all of this. Her name is Amama, I absolutely love her, every time time I call her, I get greeted with a "Lisa, Darling!" She's scheduled interviews with a prominent Imam who runs the Islamic television programming in Ghana and another who has written several books. Yesterday, we were walking back to the tro-tro stop hand in hand and I felt like we were a sort of walking dialogue not only inter-racially, but also of Christianity and Islam: me quite white, in tee-shirt and Tevas, and her quite black in a long sleeve, light weight dress and veil. I was happy to walk back past the Passion of Christ booth, where the smiles of the vendors took on a new meaning.
I'll keep you all updated as research progresses. Only one more month until I'm home! I can't believe it; how is that possible? Time does fly. For now, I wish you all a very happy Easter, and many many blessings.

Volta Region

Okay, it's been a while. A lot has happened so I guess I'll start from where I left off. After Cape Coast my group of 12 supreme performing artists took a tro to the Volta Region in the East. We arrived in the small village of Dagbamente, which was to be our home for the next 10 days. Here we learned the Ewe traditional war dance, Astiaobekor. Picture me with a long stick, i.e. sword, in the shade of the "black berry" tree (produces a "berry" very unlike anything I'd ever considered a fruit) dancing to the rhythm's of my friends' attempts at drumming. It was pretty exciting. The dance and the drumming patterns are immensely complex, especially to my foreign ear. Again, at least four different rhythms going on at one time, and somewhere in there are the master drum calls, which the dancers are supposed to respond to. In Ghana, dance is not only a matter of memorizing movement, it is a matter of memorizing the different drum calls as well, which when played cue the choreography. Luckily, if you're me you are in the second row, observing which moves the front row uses in response to the calls.
Dagbemente, was quite a village. There was a very large shrine here, where on Sundays people come to make sacrifices to the deity. A few of my group members got the honor of witnessing this. We alternated days of visiting other villages in the area and their respective shrines (because these are usually connected to various dancing and drumming traditions) and performing on our own. One very crazy day, on such an excursion we witnessed a complete solar eclipse in the morning. This was the same day that I unfortunately was struggling from stomach pain, due to some questionable yams eaten the previous evening. While viewing a women's group in one of the nearby villages I felt so nauseous I had to leave the group and sat down on what I thought was the crumbling wall surrounding some one's yard. I was very confused when a young girl came and started yelling at me in Ga. Too bad the only word I know in this language is "Thank you". Well, sparing the details, I ended up puking twice in the privacy of this walled off portion of the square, later to be told by my dance instructor, Leggie, it is the local shrine considered to be holy ground, and no one is allowed inside unless they have the proper attire, which actually is no attire at all. Oh well. That said, I have not touched yams, or shrines for that matter, since. I'm currently in Accra starting my independent study on Christian/Muslim relations in Ghana. Should be pretty fascinating :) Figured it was best to give traditional religion a rest for a while. There is much more to say about Accra, but I'll have to save it for another day. I wish you all the best. Bye-byeyo!

Cape Coast

My four days in Cape Coast are almost up. Next stop is the Volta Region in the East. It will be very difficult to leave Cape Coast. There have been many long walks on the beach front here. Swimming is rough though. You go about knee deep and you're worried the undertow is going to pull you in. I love the ocean! Yesterday while lying on the beach (and getting college credit for it) a gigantic pig walked past my head, not even 5 feet away. It was just going for a little stroll, probably to the pile of garbage down the way where her 5 piglets were hanging out.
Pigs and beaches aside, Cape Coast has been an intense experience. We have visited Cape Coast Castle and Elmina Castle, forts used by the Portuguese, Dutch, and later the English during the slave trade. We were shown the dungeons where hundreds of people were crammed, imprisoned for six weeks at a time, awaiting the ship's return for its next load of human cargo.
In conjunction with these tours we had a lecture given by a Rabbi originally from New York, on the African Diaspora. It was fascinating. The effects of colonialism are evident the minute you get off the plane, but to hear of its full extent, and discuss the issues in a multi-ethnic group setting was pretty incredible.
The exchange rate here is 9,000 cedi's to the dollar, which I was fine with since it makes you feel pretty rich dealing in thousands all the time. During the lecture we found out that when Ghana received its independence in 1957 it was just 2 cedi's to the dollar. This is a downward trend that isn't improving. So much has to be done in Ghana, and progress is difficult in a culture which still carries the wounds of the slave-trade.

Village Stay

It's very difficult to figure out how to describe the last couple of weeks. As usual, Ghana is full of surprises, every moment something unexpected and new. I've been living in the village of Ampento with 6 other students. Here, I've been lucky enough to be stationed at the chief's home, so I got to experience being an African Princess first hand, very exciting. Housing here was no where near the dirt floor no electricity/plumbing I had prepared for. Granted, there was an out house, but my room was painted a lovely pink color, had a blue light which worked the week we had power, and was just off a court yard where the cooking and laundry is done.
I felt right at home :) The chief and I had a few long conversations about religion. Apparently, he wants to give up his chieftancy because there is too much pressure for him to go to a fetish priest, which being a Seventh Day Adventist minister he is not willing to do. Because of his refusal to follow traditional Ghanaian religious practices, he is being blamed for causing all the village's problems. That's a lot of pressure for one man.
While in the village, we were required to take on a small research project, so I chose to study the traditional religion of the area which, yes, meant talking to fetish priests, some of which channel spirits, others which see and talk directly to them, all of which are herbal healers. Turns out the chief's elder brother is actually the village "spiritual dealer" or Okonfuo, as they refer to him. Interesting family tension there. Anyway, this man worked with Kwame Nkrumah, Ghana's first president as a sort of bodyguard. He claimed he could have the spirits grant me ever-lasting protection as well, so that bullets and swords would never harm me. Sounded tempting, but I passed.
I visited two other Okonfuos, both of which were fascinating. One of them, a woman, is actually Catholic now, but she says in her prime she served the village as an herbalist, receiving her knowledge through dreams or possession. My next visit took me on a 45 minute hike along a ridge overlooking the mountains of Ampento. (Or at least from my flat-land upbringing they seemed like mountains.) This third Okonfuo was actually possessed when I arrived, which means a spirit of some sort had embodied him. When the spirit takes over the body the Okonfuos claim they do not remember the experience. The spirit asks to dress a certain way, speaks differently, etc. This one in particular was from Northern Ghana and didn't speak the local language very well, so a translator had to tell my translator what was being said. The spirit smoked a lot, smiled a lot, and periodically beat its back with a club. Through the double translations, I made out some of what was being said. He asked me what my mission was, I simply stated it was to learn more about his work. After giving thanks to God, he threw a hand full of pebbles on the ground and told me about my life, family, etc. Juicy stuff. He then threw a raw egg on the ground. After examining how the broken pieces fell and how the yoke splattered, he told me that God has paved the way for me, that on my journey all I need will be provided. As I left, the Okonfuo collapsed onto the ground as the spirit departed. Never a dull moment in Ghana.
The rest of the village stay was interesting. Lots of sitting around and being stared at by crowds of Ampento village children, who congregated at our windows. If you want to know the hassles of being a celebrity go live in a small village in West-Africa. Every time I left a building, I would be mobbed by small children yelling "Abruni!" Even brushing my teeth in the morning was an adventure, since this was done outside under the close examination of surrounding villagers. There were times when this was wonderful though. I had a small clan of little girls that followed me around, and we spent a large amount of time putting forget-me-not flowers in our hair. I taught a few of them how to draw as well.
There was a host of characters in our village. Our headquarters was at a deaf man's home. Probably one of the happiest and hilarious people I've ever met. There was also a mentally handicapped girl who the other villagers threw rocks at occasionally, and who we tried to take in. The highlight of the village stay, however, was being able to just walk into the bush to pick fruit right off the trees. Everything from oranges, to avocado, bananas, and papaya were right at your finger tips. Unfortunately, a lot of my classmates, myself included, ended up getting sick for part of the stay, probably from the water somehow even though we took great measures to avoid it. It wasn't much of a problem; after a day of flu symptoms I was fine. Although no matter what, the second you get sick here they take you to the hospital to get tested for malaria, which I didn't have. Good to know I guess.
Well now I'm in Cape Coast. Incredible city. I'll have to write more later. Hope all is well at home in the States! Much love.

Tamale

Sorry it's been so long. I promise there was an attempt to post last week, but the power went out in the Internet cafe before I managed to upload or save. Our week in Tamale is now over, and tomorrow we dive into our two week rural village stay. No running water or electricity! I feel up for the challenge though, as running water and electricity sort of come and go as they please in Ghana.
Tamale, was unbelievable. The intense heat was bearable since the hotel we stayed at had air conditioning! The city was great. People ride bikes everywhere. There's a large Islamic population in Tamale so the mosques dot the skyline, and head scarves became a staple even among our group to guard against the sun. During the day in Tamale we had a few lectures at the Catholic Guest House. I also enjoyed visiting the market or the cultural center and chatting with the vendors about their paintings, sculptures, and other goods.
Our class also visited a Shea butter women's cooperative and helped to grind the Shea nuts, which look something like chocolate but taste something awful. It was a very poor community and therefore my first encounter with serious malnutrition, as most the children's stomachs bulged for lack of food. We said our thanks to the chief, purchased ridiculous amounts of Shea butter we may or may not use, and were on our way.
The next day we went to a village to watch some traditional dancing and drumming, which is difficult to find in Northern Ghana because the people have not been allowed to drum for three and a half years now. This is because their chief was killed and not given a proper burial, so out of respect, until the matter is resolved, no one is allowed to celebrate using the master drum, unless it is for a wedding. We drove far out of our way to this village which was just outside of the enforced no-drumming area. Many people crowded around to watch, understandable since this was quite the occasion. It literally had been years since last they celebrated, and the dancing was unbelievable. One woman became possessed and fell to the ground, actually a common occurrence in drumming ceremonies here. The master drummer drew all of us up one at a time to dance with him. As thanks, the audience got up and placed money on the forehead of the performers.
Our class also spent a day at MOLE National Park. We drove three hours along a very bad dirt road in a very cramped tro-tro. I still have bruises on my knees from where the seat in front of me kept jarring against my legs. (Think old rickety wooden roller coaster for three hours and you get the idea.) The ride was well worth it though. We arrived caked in dirt and jumped right into the pool. After our moonlit swim we slept outside under the stars in our mosquito netting. I woke up to the sound of my friend next to me discovering there was a scorpion in her netting. She survived, though, and now knows the importance of investing in netting which comes with a zipper.
We spent the day hiking around the park with a guide who carried a shot gun in case we were to run into anything that didn't want us there. We saw monkeys, antelope, and at least 20 elephants, 15 of which were at a watering hole bathing. I have never been so close to such wild life without zoo bars in the way. One elephant was unhappy with us though, and when it started breaking down small trees our guide told us very urgently it was time to leave. Apparently there are no giraffes in Ghana, and the lions in the park prefer to stay in their caves during the day, so our walking safari was a little incomplete. No complaints though.
We returned to Tamale after that adventure, and the next day went to the border between Ghana and Burkina Faso. Here there was a crocodile pond. Our guide pulled a couple of chickens off the street, led us to the waters edge, and stood there as four crocs emerged from the murky water. We all took turns holding the largest one's tail and snapping pictures. Apparently, they are such cooperative reptiles because they are actually the ancestors of the village people there. This must be true since there were even children swimming at the waters edge. The grand finale was getting to watch the crocs gobble down the chickens. What a day.
We finished things off by crossing the border into Burkina Faso for a good half hour, where I got to speak to the locals in French and listen to French radio, while enjoying a Fanta. I hope this counts as actually having been to another country in Africa.
Tamale was wonderful. I was sad to leave my hotel rooftop dinners under the stars, but I am very glad to be further south from the Sahara. Now on to the village stay! Wish me luck. God bless!

Kumasi

Right now it's 6:46 PM according to the Internet cafe clock. Two little yellow lizards are scampering around on the wall in front of me, and Elton John is blasting from the radio. It's very amusing and a bit unnerving (the lizards, not Elton).

My apologies for neglecting the blog for a bit. The trip to the beach in Accra was quite an adventure. The beach its self was wonderful, but on the way there my friend almost had her backpack stolen by a little kid who just reached right through our cab window, which fortunately wasn't rolled down far enough for him to succeed.

The waves on the beach were unbelievable and the sand was glorious. No sea shells, although there were plenty of people trying to sell some. There were also several fishing boats set up on shore, so I pulled out the paints and tried to capture the moment. About ten little Ghanaian kids ended up congregating around me and I taught them how to paint a fish. My sketchbook now includes a lovely fish done by Edwin, a little boy who was especially interested in the paints. A few parents and vendors stopped by as well, which was fun since I was asked if I was an artist and would I sell them my painting? It's great to proclaim, Yes, I am an artist, whatever that really means. I'm realizing now that this trip is partly about helping me define that and, more importantly, the best way I can express it.

I am now in Kumasi, enjoying a great home stay, which is literally right on the campus we are taking our drumming and dancing lessons. Not having the two hour commute in the morning is just one of many things that makes this stay fantastic.

The family I'm living with has three children 2, 7, and 12 years old. The two-year-old has taken to following me around everywhere; he is absolutely adorable. I've been entertaining the others with tic-tac-toe tournaments and story time every night. Last night was Princess and the Pea. They are a wonderful family. The father is the registrar at the University here, although he does graphic design on the side. The mother is a seamstress, working out of the home, so there are constantly 15 other women around sewing and trying to involve me in their conversations in Twi. Fortunately, I found an in by helping out with some of the sewing. The other day I learned to embroider some Akan symbols, one a sort of web representing the soul and another a heart shape representing "taking heart through mistakes and trials" since all are good for growth. I wish I could post my pictures on the blog and show you, but I haven't quite been able to get to a computer with the right usb connection.

Anyway, I love you all! To those who don't have the luxury of being on the equator, stay warm!

Fu-fu!

I tried fu-fu for the first time last night! Fu-fu is an authentic Ghanaian dish made with plantain flour and water. This paste is then mixed and kneaded for some time and eaten with soup, using your fingers. It was quite the experience. Well worth it though.

Things are going well. I'm getting more accustomed to the tro-tro's and today will be heading over to the national school of film in Ghana to speak to a professor about his work with documentaries here. Yesterday a small group of my class visited an internationally known artist working in Ghana, showing in Germany, the U.K., U.S., and France. We saw a documentary made about his sculptures, representing the genocide in Rwanda. It was very moving.

Tomorrow I'm going with some classmates to a beach which apparently comes equipped with hammocks! The break will be very welcome. Tuesday we leave for Kumasi, which is North West of Accra. No English will be spoken here, so I'll get to try out my new Twi speaking skills. Wish me luck! God bless!