An Alphabet from Ghana revised

A Note from Tohajie: Upon susan's request, I have deleted her earlier alphabet and she has revised it and attached it here. So for the second time here is an Alphabet of Ghana by Susan Parker, a 38 year teaching veteran from Fayetteville, North Carolina. Enjoy...

A-Akwaaba
with a symphony of sound
horns beeping, drums reverberating, rain drumming on a tin roof
wild ringing of church bells at 4:30
reggae & high life music
"obruni, how are you?" and a shy smile
with an album of images
a young girl running down the sidewalk, dancing for the bus at each traffic stop
the sun at dawn touching clouds over Lake Bosumtwi with pale gold
school children walking to school in starched and pressed uniforms
with a feast of smells
meat grilling on charcoal on the sidewaalk
smoked fish coiled in rows for sale
wood smoke from morning fires spiraling in the cool air
Ghana welcomes you!

B-Bonwire, the kente village
shafts of sunlight illuminate jewel-colored cloths
silent weavers concentrate
back and forth, back and forth
feet shift
a pattern emerges from fine lines of color
in a dim, crowded room
"Madame, please, see my cloth"
hands plucking, voices insisting, beseeching
"Mama, I have the finest"

C-calabash
large drum covered with leopard skin pounding in the Asantehene's procession
scoop in a woman's hand, measuring the rice and beans
bowl holding libation for the spirit

D-deity
listens to your whispered wishes
but, do not wish evil on another
"Nothing is random in Africa"
the sacred is everywhere
"There is no African word for religion"

E-Elmina and Cape Coast, the slave castles
gleaming white sepulchre on a hill
bright sunlight in a hot, shabby white, stone courtyard
dark cobblestones and packed earth made slick by thousands of human feet
stumbling in the dank and the dark
away from light and air
the stench of suffering, the odor of agony permeate the walls still
down and down, bending low
down to the narrow door
the pounding surf and the unknown beyond
small tokens of grief left to the ancient deity
taken away
from family, from home, from the familiar

F-fabric
London waxed (made in Ghana), hand tie-dyed, woven kente strips, adinkra stamped, wax batiks
piled in stalls
intricate patterns in endless rows
"We teach our young women to do this," proudly in GILLBT
lengths hung on poles
bright blues, yellows, greens, oranges
somber reds, browns and black
celebratory black and white

G-goats
poised on rocks and walls
scrambling on ledges
nosing in trash
brown front-white back, divided as though with a measuring tape
the "two kid scheme bringing wealth to impoverished families

H-hawkers
swarming the buses at each stop
walking in the highway between stopped ranks of cars
running alongside the slowly moving bus to make change
flapping hankerchiefs, boxes of bread loaves, fried dough
yellow apple pyramids on an aluminum plate
red palm nuts, green and yellow bananas
green towers of citrus, brown mounds of groundnuts balanced on a woman's head
laughing and talking to the passengers, jostling for position
or, silent and solemn at the curb, hanging back

I-Internet cafe
the search for one somewhere
What's the charge? Is it reliable?
walk down to the big traffic roundabout, take a left toward Accra, walk about ten minutes
first door on the third floor
small, dim room, hot
uncertain connection to home

J-jollof rice
molds of rice of white plates
with chicken or fish
red, spicy

K-Kintampo Falls
on the road to Kumasi
152 steps to the base
a contemplative spot
cool shade, misting spray from the falling water
lush verdant trees and vines frame a blue sky

L-lost wax process
ancient patterns and tourist trade
thin sprays of wax deftly twirled and molded to the base
from scrap metal fittings, charcoal and clay
an artist creates his piece
conects to age-old tradition

M-"Medaase pa pa pa"
to Ben and Francis
to Seth, Rizak and Kofi
to Max
thank you so very, very much

N-Nkrumah
Osagyefo
the first president
embodiment of independence
visionary/failed leader
"He is an enigma"

O-openi
the elders sit in black and white celebration cloth at Akwasidae
watching and listening
witnesses
"the skin of the chief"

P-pottery
yellow and gray lumps on the red ground
deftly the women's hands circle the lumps
smoothing and scraping
forming the useful and the beautiful
in the ancient way

Q-Queen mother
king maker
Asantehewaa stately proceeding around the courtyard of the palace
greeting the assembled guests and spectators
then dancing to the music with slow and royal steps and gestures

R-red trail
red trail winding through the green valley
disappearing southward
like a stream of blood from Africa's heart
Paga: Pinkora, a slave camp

S-stamps
brown adinkra symbols on yellow beige cloth
cherished symbols of traditional thought
kneeling in sunlight and shadow
we learn from a master craftsman
"Whip it hard, madame, like so"
beauty forms in columns and rows
brilliant colors flutter on the line above

T-traffic stop
traffic stop at night
police barricade
flashlights shine in the car window
??

u-umbrella
large umbrellas witrh gold fringes, fluttering
rising and falling in the procession
shading the paramount chief
marking his presence

v-villages
houses rise as though part of the red clay earth in the midst of green
smoke curls up from cooking fires
roosters crow in the sweet, cool morning air
small, warm pinpoints from kerosene lamps appear in the dark
homes turn inward, circling around the family

w-women at Navrongo cooperative
sitting in a colorful, dressed in their best
strong women working together
shyly proud
singing in joy
laughing as we all hoed in the field together

x-xylophone
music passed from elder to younger
instrument of wood and bamboo
slats struck to form a melody
a bamboo bridge from player to audience
"It is the best"

y-yams
dirt brown tubers piled on roadside stands
mounds waiting by the road for transport
boiled, fried, pounded or baked
leaves in stew
ground to make yam balls
sliced for chips

Z z-z-z's on the bus
jouncing along on the bus
heads bobbing at bumps in the road
bodies slumped sideways
catching up from a late night


An alphabet creates its own limitations: twenty-six letters, each one only used once. Ghana is so much more than these images I have culled from a six-week experience that was one of the most intense of my life.

Susan Parker

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

A Note from Tohajie: This blog entry is from another member of my Ghanaian family, Amdrew Goldman, who teaches in Boston. He is a person who is forthright and honest, and has offered a unique perspective throughout the six-week trip. I hope you enjoy...


All along during our trip I had mixed emotions about the homestay looming at the end of the trip. Would it be great, or would it be an ordeal? As it turned out, I was the last one to be dropped off with my family, the Akyeampongs of Aburi. The husband is a very experienced Presbyterian minister and former teacher, while his wife taught family studies for over thirty years herself. A formidable pair, who were accompanied by two young girls, Ada and Emelia, whose status I was never able to figure out. They were in the care of the mother, Juliana, who sent them to school, but they functioned as servants around the house, cooking and cleaning in seeming perpetual motion. I didn’t notice a lot of affection aimed in their direction, but Juliana worked along side of them most of the time. Another African mystery...
From the very first, it was clear I was in a very religious household, not surprising since it was the Mission House for the nearby church, run by its leader. However, as it turned out the Reverend Kwaku was more interested in people’s character and how they behaved than in their interactions with others then in their strict adherence to specific religious practices. It was his wife who was much more interested in my personal beliefs, and in teaching me about the centrality of Jesus Christ in all of our lives. I listened politely, agreed with the principles when I felt that way, but to her disappointment didn’t leap at the chance to affirm my faith. They were amiable discussions, usually over meals while her husband was busy with church business, which walked in the door anytime night or day.
It was the discussions I had with the Reverend that were the most enlightening. While I found him presiding over a rural congregation in his last months before retirement (he’s 70), he has done some amazing things over the years. He describes himself as a builder and an organizer, and he has taken a number of churches over the years and inspired his flock to grow, improve the physical condition of their house of worship, and to get more people involved with both improving their own lives and in serving their community. His photo albums are filled with smiling people at his installment in various pulpits, presiding over weddings, and sadly seeing him off to other assignments. He was also a Peacekeeper during the South African elections in 1994, which meant he was an observer. Another member of his team: Jimmy Carter. Indeed. We talked about everything - personal values, teaching, world peace (really!), black-white relations, raising kids, travel, and some topics I have forgotten. Over the course of these conversations, we found ourselves in tune with the others beliefs on a very deep level. We, two men from very different backgrounds and homelands, not to mention religious histories, had very similar views of the world. We were both pleasantly surprised, and very touched and pleased.
I had a number of fascinating experiences with the Akyeampongs. On Saturday, the Reverend was asked to officiate at a funeral far away near Kumasi, so I accompanied his wife to another funeral in a nearby town. As her husband was to deliver the sermon, we got more than a few second looks when we walked past the laid out body and went up to greet the local minister. Then I was seated in the front row facing all of the mourners! This was clearly an occasion when I would have to strive to not fall asleep - Juliana would never hear the end of it. After awhile, a man came up to us with a paper and pencil, to find out who I was. Juliana spoke to him and later, when the visiting dignitaries were introduced, Brother Andy of Boston visiting from the United States was compelled to stand up and wave to the gathering. Life as a celebrity. This happened again the next day in church (of course), and then again on Monday as we attended a celebration of the institution of the new teacher training policy at a local teacher training school - as a fellow teacher and not a politician, I got big applause - how funny is that! The wildest thing is that this “new” policy is 35 years old! Rev. Akyeampong remembers it being passed in 1972 under Busia, when he worked in the Secretariat of the Presbyterian Church. Unfortunately, when the military government came in such things were shelved.
But my various visits to the VIP platform won’t be my enduring memories of this visit. What I will cherish are the images of a loving family, and of a community united joyfully around its faith. Not coming from an especially close family, and living in the ever malleable United State where practically no one lives where they grew up, these stark differences from my life were especially poignant for me. This is a way of life that clearly works for these people, and I hope that in their drive to be more modern, to reach for some of the things they see that will make their lives easier, that the people of Ghana don’t lose the aspects of their culture that we would do well to emulate. I had so much fun pounding foo-foo, learning that I shouldn’t “fear my own hand” when eating kenke or anything else without cutlery, and showing that even an abronie (white foreigner) enjoys the spicy sauces that Ghanaians love. All of this, along with a series of spontaneous gift exchanges, solidified my place in this family.
And there is a person who deserves his own paragraph - Kofi, who is finishing up his university career at Cape Coast. He is studying Math and Statistics, and hopes for a job in telecommunications after he completes his national service. We had an amazing time comparing notes on college life, people (who values you enough to call on their cell phone when it costs them minutes!), playing sports, and life in general. We chatted for hours, and when his mom declared that he had a new wufi, or uncle, neither one of us had any desire to contradict her. Kofi is his father’s son, but has his own mind. He questions everything around him, respecting what seems to him to be sincere and consistent, and wondering about the rest. I think he is well on the way to being an extraordinary young man, and I would not be surprised to find us in touch in ten years time. Kofi is quietly intense, but also has a sneaky sense of humor which I very much appreciate.
This whole visit to Ghana has, for me, been a much bigger stretch than my jaunt to China three summers ago. This has been much more personal - in China, we mostly observed from afar. This trip has been a get in and get our hands dirty, rather than an academic exercise. Both approaches have their place, but this time around has taken root in me in a much deeper way. I have plenty to tell my students to be, and perhaps even more to mull over on my own and with friends. This is an important time in my life, and only the future will show how I come through it. Stay tuned, and come along for the ride!

The Homestay: a Follow-up

After staying with Daniel and Elizabeth Asirifi for four days I believe I was able to get an up close look at a Ghanaian family. I would like to be able to say with confidence that it was a typical Ghanaian family, but I am not sure that was the case. Daniel and Elizabeth cared for four children, none of them which were their natural children. As I mentioned in the previous blog there was Linda, age 17; Richmond, age 16; Eric, age 13; and Lizzy, age 6. The children were all "adopted" by Daniel and Elizabeth, but not in the same way a child is adopted in the United States. Each of the children were taken in by their adopted parents when their own parents were either unable or unwilling to take care of them. Linda was from the north, Richmond and Eric were from villages in the Eastern Region, and little Lizzy was from very nearby.

Elizabeth, the mother, clearly was in charge of running the household. She was so much in charge that she actually behaved in a very bullish manor. She sharply told me and Ellen what to do and when to eat whenever she had the opportunity, which was most of the time because we really didn't go anywhere. I must pause for a moment to explain that one of my colleagues on the trip, Ellen Cummings, was with me much of the time because her homestay "mother", Grace, was away tending to the needs of her own sick daughter in Accra. Consequently, Ellen had her meals and spent much of her time with me at the Asirifi's house. The truth about the stay is that Elizabeth was very bossy and very difficult to be around because neither Ellen or I could sit down without being told where to sit. We attended church with them on Sunday morning. Daniel gave the sermon and Ellen and I sat with Elizabeth. Elizabeth sat next to me and told me when to stand and when to sit (as if I could not sort that part out for myself). She told me when to bathe and when to watch TV. I really did not enjoy her too much as a person, but she ran a "tight ship" as the one who ran the household.

The children were up by 4:30 AM sweeping the floors and the various rooms of the house with the little palm brooms that are so common in Ghana. Elizabeth of course would skip on over to the church (across the street) to answer the 4:30 AM church bells (a pleasant sound to wake up to), and sing with the other women of the church. Not only did they sing for forty-five minutes or so, but they piped the music through the outside speakers for all to hear. I was not able to sleep the rest of the night away, but instead listened to the singing and the wind blow outside my window (I'll address the weather in a few moments). After the singing, Elizabeth would return to her den to make sure her cubs were obedient. She had absolutely nothing to worry about as they had been working the whole time since she left. I heard them. I offered to help, but it was made clear thatI was not permitted. The children then had to heat water for everyone's bath, clean up the Turkey pin and outhouse area outside, and tidy up the place in general. The kids worked much of the day. I am not certain of the quality of the life of the children, but I am sure that both Daniel and Elizabeth care tremendously about their well-being. When I gave Elizabeth the set of towels that I brought she gave each one of them one of the new towels (their old towels were quite tattered so I felt good about the gift). I also am glad we were there because I believe the kids were given at least part of the multitudes of food that Ellen and I were served and could not possibly eat. I now want to say a little about each of the kids.

Linda, the oldest, and the one who did much of the cooking and fetching of the water is a beautiful young girl. She is pleasant and does virtually everything she is asked with a smile. She had recently taken her exams to enter senior secondary school (high school), and was waiting for her scores. I got the impression from Daniel that he was hopeful she would be able to attend, but Elizabeth seemed to indicate that Linda was almost prepared to go out on her own and make her own way. When Elizabeth showed Ellen how she made her own soap it was Linda who did all of the mixing and most of the grunt work. When Elizabeth showed Ellen and me how to do tie and dye, it was Linda (not Ellen and me) that was asked to do all the work. After we were finished "getting to do arts and crafts", Elizabeth boasted how she had prepared Linda to take care of herself. Oh how I hope Linda gets to continue with her education, but it seems as if Elizabeth is ready for Linda to go, and find herself a new girl to "save" from parents who do not care. Linda is very responsible, and already knows how to do everthing required to run a house in Ghana.

Richmond is the oldest boy. He is sixteen and is getting ready to enter his second year in junior secondary school (7th grade). Richmond is obedient and very responsible. He takes good care of little Lizzy (as all the kids do) and seemed determined to teach me how to speak Twi (the local language). Richmond was very religious and asked me often if I have read the Bible. He told me he wanted to continue his education and become a banker. He was very fond of math. His parents called him Gyo (pronouced Joe). I heard this and asked him why his parents called him Gyo and Richmond responded by saying that it is because he was "bought" on a Monday (see the paragraph below marked ABOUT NAMES). I thought the term "bought" was strange, but was not very comfortable in talking with Daniel and Elizabeth about it, so I let it go. After I gave the kids a soccer ball, I got to kick around with Richmond and Eric and they liked to play very much. On the last morning we were there, they were told to go to the farm to help some of their friends, but they managed to take the ball with them. Like most kids I think they sneak some fun in amidst all of their responsibility.

ABOUT NAMES:
In West Africa a child is named for the day he or she is born. Take Kofi Annan for instance, the former general secretary of the UN. He was born on a Friday, hence the name Kofi. (By the way, I read in a book on West African Culture that the name Annan is given to the fourth child.) Hence Kofi Annan was the fourth child born to his mother born on a Friday. Using this naming scheme my name would be Kwasi (Sunday born) Annan (fourth child). And since my new adopted name from earlier in the trip is Tohajie my new name is Kwasi Annan Jimmy Tohajie Jewell. I wonder if it will fit on my driver's license.

Eric who is 13 years old is the musician of the family. He constantly wanted to see me dance and he played the drums in the church service. Elizabeth of course forced Ellen and I to dance with the entire congregation so I hammed it up a little bit when Eric was looking. He had a very bright smile on his face when he saw me. All of the kids loved it when I took their picture especially with the Polaroid camera. I left them about 15 pictures for them to keep. Eric was constantly asking me to take more pictures and found it difficult to understand that I only had a few shots left. I think he was disappointed, but he seemed to perk up when I broke out my $8 wind up flashlight (without batteries) from Target. he thought it was very cool that you could just crank the handle and make the light shine even brighter. I left if for him; I hope he actually gets to use it.

Little Lizzy was about as cute as a little kid can be. Like Linda she had her cut the length of a boy's head. Lizzy spoke almost no English, but she taught me how to sing the song Cocoa Farmer (sung to the tune of where is thumb man?). Lizzy also loved to wear my big Australia hat which I bought to protect myself from the sun, and she loved to walk with me and hold my hand as we traveled around. I took her to the library and read her a story. I knew she didn't really understand, so I made goofy noises to emulate the animals in the book and it made her laugh. Lizzy was the only one of the children there to say good-bye when we departed because the others were away working on the farm or playing soccer. I for one hope they were playing soccer.

Daniel is a 74 year-old retired Presbyterian Minister. He didn't say much, but did want to know how much just about everything I owned was worth. He hinted that he wanted me to bring him to the United States, but fell short of actually asking me. I am glad he didn't. I wathced the news with him in the evening and played a board game called Ludo with him in the days. He was a very nice man, but he seemed disappointed when I answered his religious question incorrectly (for him). He asked me If I believed it was my duty to spread the word of Jesus to all of the corners of the earth. When I said I did not he seemed perplexed, but did not say anymore about it. I think he was going to ask me to deliever part of the sermon. After our conversation he was content with having me read from the Book of Genesis and Ellen reading from the Book of Luke.

The weather in the Akwapim Mountain Range was delightful for a fair-skinned, burn under a full moon type of guy like myself. It was often overcast and very breezy in what is considered the short rainy season which lasts from August to maybe mid-October. It was cool and very damp in the evening. The first night we were there the wind holwed and blew rain in all sorts of directions. The rain beat on the tin roof and made a nice melody with the goats yelling and the drummers playing through the night off in the distance.

I can't say I had a great time on the homestay because Elizabeth would not let me move without asking me what I was doing or where I was going. At one point I was trying to write for my journal, and she was reading everything I wrote over my shoulder. When I stopped writing she seemed very dissappointed. When I went to the little store and brought back a beer she gave me a hard time by asking me, "how can you be a teacher and drink that beer?" I bought two the next night. Although it was not all roses at my homestay I learned a lot. I hope the kids are in a good place, and I am convinced their parents care for them. I am thinking I want to try and send some used clothes to them because the area seems a little depressed. There is no running water in the area, but the church seems to have a weird hold on the village so I am leary about sending them money. I am truly puzzled about the experience, but I feel like it was one of the most valuable parts of this entire trip. It was certainly real.

I will try to write at least one more entry to my blog before we fly out of here on Sunday morning. I again thank any of you who have been reading and especially those of you who have been responding. I'll write again soon. Kwasi Annan, out.

A Post from Apirede in the Akwapim Mountain Ridge

I have accompanied Eric and Elizabeth to the local library and web center in the town of Apirede. Apirede is a very small village that does not have running water. Hence, Linda, the 17 year old girl, goes to the local water distribution point and carries the water in a bucket back on the top of her head. I think she made three trips this morning. I have been placed with Daniel and Lizzy Asirifi. Daniel is 74 years of age and Lizzy is 57. Living with them is Linda, Richmond, Eric, and Elizabeth. they are 17, 16, 13, and 6 respectively. All attend school nearby and all are adopted in the Ghanaian sense. Daniel and Lizzy have three of their own children who are all grown. One even lives as far away as Peru in South America. Daniel and Lizzy obtained this current group of four by rescuing them from parents and other situations where they were seemingly unwanted.



Lizzy says it is very important that they adopt these children because otherwise no one would take care of them. The kids have spent much of the time since I have been here doing chores, but they appear to be extraordinarily happy because they seem to be loved very very much.

Excuse me for this interruption, but I actually typed this post yesterday and was thrown of the Internet. I will try to type quickly, but I am afraid I lost almost the whole post yesterday. The Internet connection here in Ghana is always a huge question mark. In fact the infrastructure here is what needs to be worked on the most. I think improving the infrastructure throughout the country and improving education for children are the two biggest ways to improve this nation.

I attended a church service this morning, but I am really afraid to type more. I should be back in Accra on Tuesday and will catch up then. I'll be in touch then.

Anticipation of my homestay and adopted family

Today we are at the University of Ghana at Legon, which is located on the outside of downtown Accra. It is our last day of lectures. In fact yesterday and today were our last two days of lectures. Yesterday we discussed the political history of Ghana since its independence on March 6, 1957. We also discussed the role of health care and how it deals with cultural views on treatment. We finished the day by discussing gender issues in Ghana. Today we will visit the children's ward of a nearby hospital, but first we have to attend one more lecture on religion in Ghana. I am pretty certain that we will discuss the role of traditional religion and the influx of Islam and Christianity. Earlier today we participated on a discussion about the geography of West Africa and we heard a lecture on traditional music and dance. The variety of topics that we have discussed in this visit to Ghana is amazing. Today is also our last day that we will be together until next Tuesday. Tomorrow we will all be dropped off one by one to begin our four day home stay.

We will all be dropped off at a home in a region north of Accra and east of Kumasi called the Akwapin Mountain Ridge. This is the part of the trip that is the most exciting to me because it will be a chance to see how a family lives. I am sure the family will be putting their best foot forward, but it will be interesting. I do not really know what to expect. Will Max put us with a poor family (by Ghanaian standards) or a middle class family. I do not belief that the family will be rich in a financial sense, but I bet they will be in the sense that they have a deep love of the culture of their country. Just about everyone we have run across here in Ghana seems to be very proud of a nation that has a lot of opportunity in front of it and a lot of challenges to face.

My biggest concern is of course not to offend my hosts. Ghanaian food over the four and a half weeks we have been here has not been very agreeable with my system, but I am hopeful that I can pull it all together for the home stay. I wonder what occupation the father is involved in. I wonder what occupation the mother is involved in. What are the interests of their children? How many children do they have? I am sure you can imagine the kinds of questions that are running inside of my mind.

I wonder if they are political in their thinking. Do they support the the party in power which is the New Patriotic Party (the NPP) or do they support the National Democratic Council (the NDC)? Like the US, Ghana is facing a presidential election in 2008 and like the US Ghana is waiving good-bye to an eight year president who must leave because of term limits set forth in the constitution. One difference between Ghana and the US is that the Ghanaian people seem to generally like their president right now. The president's name is Kuofor and he is referred to as the "Gentle Giant" because he is so calm in the face of controversy of which there is plenty because the former president (JJ Rawlings) originally took power in a coup de tat back in 1979. Rawlings then held power from 1982 to 1992 as a dictator and then as an elected president from 1993 to 2001. He is a threatening force and despite many calls for Kuofor to arrest Rawlings, Kuofor says it is important that freedom of speech and other civil liberties become an integral part of life in Ghana. I don't know much about him but Kuofor does sound like a gentle giant (by the way Kuofor is 6' 4" tall). Anyway, I hope my host family will give me their perspectives about the political situation as they see it in Ghana. I guess my only other really big concern is that they are bored with me and me with them. that would make for a long four days.

I brought with me a gift of a nice bathroom towel set accompanied with some dish cloths. I also plan to share with them a bag of candy. I will also arrived armed with a Polaroid camera so that I may leave some pictures behind. all and all I am very excited a bout the upcoming visit. I will try to put a new post up then. If the family at my home stay has Internet access, and it seems like a question that is OK to ask then I will ask them to type up a post.

I have offered an invitation to all of my colleagues to write their own post to put on this blog. So far, two have done so. Ida Malloy from New Jersey says she wants to put one on tonight, so check back a little later and hers may be here. Traveling for 47 days is tiresome and I look forward to getting home, but this has been one of the most valuable experiences I have ever had. It has exceeded expectations in many ways, but in a way that I didn't fully expect. I will try to explain more on a later blog post. See you all for now.

Through the "Door of No Return"

Teaching about slavery in the United States has always been a great passion of mine. Not because I think it is fun, but rather because of its importance. In the past I have tried to compare the Transatlantic Slave Trade to the Holocaust which occurred in Nazi Germany during the 1930's and 1940's. I believe now that it was an unwise comparison. After visiting the castles in Elmina and Cape Coast on the western shore of Ghana, I wish to practice the proverbial notion of Sankofa. The symbol for Sankofa is the bird looking back. It means that one can go back and straighten out what wasn't done correctly. I am invoking that privilege now to go back and not compare the two horrible events I mentioned above. I will let each person make any comparisons that he or she chooses to make. As for me here are some facts, my observations and some thoughts I have.

The Portuguese arrived in what today is Elmina around 1471. Despite some debate, they were the first Europeans to arrive to this coastal city along the West African coast to arrive at the site which has had the following names in its history including Elmina: Anomansa, Amankwaa-Kurom, and Edina. The town dates her history back to the 1300's. I obtained this information from our guide at Elmina Castle. Before I continue, I must praise this guide for his passion as well as his depth of knowledge. I was so moved by our visit that I forgot to write down his name. the Portuguese had entered the so called age of discovery after capturing the town of Ceuta in 1415. This led them to continue to look southward to hopefully eclipse the Italian role of middleman in the European trade with the far east. This was done under the leadership of Prince Henry the Navigator, the brother of the Portuguese king. It is reported that the first Africans to be brought to Europe via the Atlantic was in 1441 (51 years before Christopher Columbus' voyage in 1492). In their quest to sail south the Portuguese sailors wished to prove that they had made land on the shores of Africa so they brought 10 - 12 people back and taught them to be interpreters or servants in the home. In 1471 when the Portuguese arrived in what was then Edina, they traded with the locals and noticed an abundance of gold. Hence the Portuguese named the area Elmina (which means the mine). By 1482 they had made a deal with the local chief - Nana Kwamena Kweiyga Ansah - for a piece of land and On January 19th arrived with 12 full ships and 600 men to build what stands today - the Castle at Elmina. Undoubtedly the ships left the coast of Portugal before the deal was made. The chief was uneasy to make the deal with the "foreigners" and the locals didn't like it, and after a few local attacks by the locals, the chief settled the differences. the chief finally had granted the request of the Portuguese in the hopes of obtaining peace. Thus eleven years after arriving at Elmina (the plot of land where the castle sits is on a big rock believed to be sacred) the Portuguese had built a castle which they named Sao Jorge (St. George). At first the Portuguese indeed did continue to trade for gold. And slowly from 1441 to the early 1500's more and more Africans were brought to Portugal and Spain to serve as servants.

As time passed by and Columbus and other Spanish "explorers" began to establish colonies in the Western Hemisphere, and it seemed clear that using the native Americans as slaves would not work, the Europeans turned to Africa. Bartholomew las Casas ( a Dominican Friar) serving in New Spain ( current day Mexico and surroundings) suggested that using Africans as laborers in the gold and silver mines and on the sugar plantations would be useful because of the strength and knowledge of the West Africans. this is about the time the Portuguese switched their interest to include the "evil trade" - the sale of humans. So from the early 1500's to 1637 the Portuguese dealt in slaves. The Dutch stole the castle from the Portuguese after two unsuccessful attempts (1597 and 1625) in 1637. They practiced the horrible business until the slave trade was abolished in 1807, and then sold the castle to the British in 1872 which used the castle along with its own (just 20 kilometers to the east) in Cape Castle as a staging point for Colonialism and Imperialism of what then became the Gold Coast (present day Ghana) . At both locations the slave trade flourished for the Europeans while simultaneously bringing misery to thousands as part of a greater system known as the Asiento (the transatlantic slave trade) which certainly brought misery and death to millions. The British relinquished the castle to the newly liberated nation of Ghana upon its independence from the British in 1957. There is a lot to say about Imperialism, but for now I will stick to the discussion on slavery.

Although we toured both Elmina and the Cape Coast Castle, I will mainly refer to my visit to Elmina. It was our first of two tours and the guide was excellent. The first observation about both places is that they were not nearly as large as I thought they were. Elmina occupies in area that covers only 2.32 acres. The first and obvious observation is that the slaves were kept at the lower levels while the Europeans stayed on top. They are referred to as dungeons, but in the Elmina case the dungeons were simply poorly ventilated cargo rooms built for the storage of goods. The proximity of the weapons magazine meant that much of the air that served as ventilation for the captives was tainted by the smell of ammunition, which only added to the stench that I will refer to later. The three areas of torture and misery were the men's cell, the men's dungeons and the women's dungeon. First of all many of the captives had been on over 500 mile marches from areas in present day Mali, Burkina Faso, The Ivory Coast, Togo, and Northern Ghana. If you read my earlier blog about the slave camp in Pinkora then you know that that place was about 500 miles from the coast. On their journey the captives were poorly fed and only given one bath about 20 to 20 miles from the castle. The purpose for this bath was to make the men and women appear more healthy so that traders would purchase them. At Elmina they kept about 600 men and 400 women up to a term of about 6 weeks to 3 months in order to have enough people to fill the boats for the middle passage (the leg of the transatlantic slave trade from the coast of Africa to the various ports in the Americas). The first room I mentioned above was the Men's cell which was actually called the condemned cell. It was called that because men who would dare try to revolt and break away would simply be put in this dark dank place 30 at a time without food, water, or light. The door remained closed until the men died (all of them). Then their bodies were thrown into the sea. The men's dungeons which held 600 at a time were about the size of three classrooms. There were no facilities for relieving one's self and people were only fed once or twice together, and when the captives became unruly they were chained together. There dungeons led to a door called the door of no return which exited to smaller boats which transported them to the larger slave ships anchored nearby.

The women's dungeons had a couple of added atrocities attached to them. Like the men, the women had no way to relieve themselves in any sanitary way. This included times of menstruation. The stench in the dungeons must have been as awful as anyone can imagine. While walking through the dungeons the other day I detected an odor that I don't belief will ever go a way. I knew visiting the castles would be very very tough for me and I was doing OK with the visit until this next part I am about to explain. Then I broke down and temporarily separated myself from my group. The women's dungeons were located below the governor's quarters. There was a courtyard where the women would exit and the governor would look below and choose the woman he wanted for the moment. She would then be cleaned by the guards in front of all of the other women and take upward through a spiral staircase through a trapdoor to the governor's bedroom. When the governor was finished the guards would then ravage her. On the other side of the courtroom was a chapel and on Sundays the guard would go to church and then proceed outside and also make selections of women they wanted to have. It was repulsive to hear about. I had to leave the area and I went to a secluded place in the castle and wrote this:

To every African American I say - I can not ever fully understand what visiting a slave castle like Elmina or Cape Coast can mean to you. I can imagine the pain must be great and complicated. To every teacher of European background, I can only say that we have a duty to say what we saw and how it impacted us. The tragedies that occurred here must never be forgotten and must never be diminished in its importance as history. A vast part of a continent was raped (for 400 years) and we should never forget. We must use the memory to fight injustice. As Martin Luther King Jr. put it, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." It is an injustice to not tell (in one's history class) what happened here and what to tell about the racism it has fueled on and on and on and on and on....

When is "never again" going to really mean it?

Why the US lost to Ghana in the World Cup Last Summer

First of all, I was not able to get to a computer during my stay in Cape Coast. I have corrected it now, but I made a mistake on my last blog when I named the the castle in Elmina. For some reason I called it El Camina. The name is Elmina.

We have arrived back in Accra at the Erata Hotel and I am very tired. I am going to write a somewhat light blog at this moment and try to write a more serious blog about the slave castles in the morning.

As we traveled around almost the entire nation of Ghana it has occurred to me a good that there is at least one really good reason why the US soccer team lost to Ghana in the World Cup last summer. In just about every "nook and cranny" of this nation wherever there is the space or there is the time, kids and young adults gather to play football (soccer). I have seen goals made of bamboo; goals made of two sticks in the ground (like when we played at the beach); I have seen people playing in tight little spaces between two housing complexes. I have seen goals with ropes as crossbars. Hardly any of the balls I have seen being used are very nice. I have seen kids playing with tennis balls (old ones not shiny yellow ones), and one of our group members gave some little boys an empty water bottle and they struck up a game with it. What I am saying here is no mystery to anyone who follows soccer in the international world. There are many cultures in many nations in which children and adults play football with a little extra time and a little extra space. My concern for the children of the United States is that it seems the youth do not participate in many activities in a spontaneous way. I am concerned by this because when I see the children and the young adults play here I see them play with an enormous amount of passion. I wonder to what degree are we limiting the passion of children in the United States by our scheduled days that last from sun-up to sundown. I do not know what the solution is, but I believe there must be a way to foster that type of passion in the activities in which our children participate. I went for a stroll in Bolgatanga ( a city in Northern Ghana) a few weeks ago and passed by a school with a football pitch on it. A scrimmage game was in process with about 100 or so people watching. The field was in terrible condition and was mostly covered with a bright orange clay. There was only grass on the north end of the field and in the nw corner the grass was too high to run in. The players ran through the tall grass to desperately get a cross off. The folks watching on the side laughed as the young man stumbled through the weeds. In the twenty minutes I watched I saw the players perform with very good skill and a tactical knowledge of what to do with and without the ball. It was very entertaining football to watch. The players were not bothered by any of the distractions that came there way. This remained true as a pig and a motorcycle (at separate times) crossed the south end of the field. I kept watching until it was too dark for the players to see. It was a very unique and rewarding experience. My challenge to anyone reading this is to try to facilitate (if you can) passion as part of the activities with which children in your life are involved. By doing so, we may find that our children may work a little harder than they do now and they may enjoy what they do even more. I'll try to write again in the morning. Thanks for reading.

On to Cape Coast to see the Castles

We are leaving Kumasi today and heading to the coast west of Accra. This is the location of Cape Coast Castle and the one known as Elmina. This will certainly be one of the most moving experiences from a historical and emotional perspective. I will try to post a blog then. See you for now.

The Weaver by Joan Malerba-Foran

A note from Tohajie: Here is another post from one of our family. Joan is a teacher from New Haven, Connecticut with four years of experience, but a lifetime of reflection. Enjoy...

My post will reflect an experience our group had on Tuesday, July 31st in the Kente-making center of Bonwire. Less than an hour from our hotel, it was a universe beyond my experiences.

First, to not mention Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem The Ballad of the Harp Weaver...what kind of a poetry enthusiast would I be? Those of you who have not read it, please do (read it out loud, slowly, and have a handkerchief nearby). As for Kumasi and the weavers of Kente cloth: nothing I've ever seen prepared me for the experience. It was "almost" many things I know, but not quite. The weavers were working inside a barn-like structure. The solid wood walls only rose for three feet or so, to reach the top of the cathedral-height ceiling was taut wire that formed an open grid. Draped and hanging from the wire walls was a herd of riotous colors; rather than animals or fowl, colors had been corralled.

When a piece of cloth is removed, the bright afternoon sun blazes in, dotting the dusty floor and dark faces in sporadic, geometric shapes. The patches of light, when they fell on a piece of folded fabric across the room, startled the eye to see color to a depth one normally doesn't grasp. Blues bounced, red reared up, yellows leapt, greens galloped--all the colors clashed, collided, banged, and bounced. It was like being caught in a downpour while--somehow--remaining dry. When the light fell on a face bundled in shadow, the body seated in a wooden web of woven cloth, it startled more than the eye: it startled the heart. The room seemed to have luminous coins flung about. I found it hard to concentrate on any one piece because, as fabrics were removed and rehung, beams of light as powerful and as focused as a police officer's flashlight moved about, pulling my eyes along with them.

Outside the locked door, the usual geography of hard-packed red earth, smooth stones, trees patiently crouching on knees and knuckles of roots, stretched in all directions; but inside, we were penned up in a throbbing, pulsing hive of hope and desperate salesmanship. To the men (recently, women have taken on the craft of weaving Kente cloth, but none were working at this location) these strips of fabric represented history, ancestry, culture...but they also represented a sale. In this not too spacious confine there were no walls to separate the buyers from the sellers, and there were an equal number of both, with maybe the sellers slightly outnumbering us. They were so frantic that they seemed to multiply, shoving 12 hands, 8 arms, many mouths: you know the experience? Anyone who has entered, say, a kindergarten classroom knows the kind of energy I'm referring to. It is not bad; it is simply overwhelming. To be the center of so much attention can be disconcerting! At times, I found myself engulfed in 6 or 7 men, all pleading for my attention. Eventually I did purchase a lovely purple cloth threaded with metallic silver, with strips of the "typical" orange-green and geometric-patterned Kente running through it. With my purchase secure in my thin, black plastic bag (a signal that I had bought something and was no longer approachable for a sale), I stepped back against a patch of wall. There, several Kente cloths had been sold and a space had opened in the mesh wall. The sunlight knifed through and fell on the shoulder of a man, one of only two who--side by side--remained weaving through a ll the selling frenzy. I don't know the technical terms for the parts of his machine, or what his motions would technically be called, but then I don't know the names of the moves that a prima ballerina makes and I still enjoy a classical ballet. And where is the beauty in knowing those technical terms? I watched with complete fulfillment as this this man manually operated his wooden machine: the motion of his hips, his fingers, even his ankles and toes. Everything worked together with an economy of movement that defines the word "beautiful." He sat in the position similar to a recumbent bicycle. between each of his big toe and second toe (does that toe have a name like "the index toe?!") was a large button anchored to a frayed thin rope. These lines tethered him to the loom and he pedaled with them. The shuttle (the only term I do know) flew between the cross-running threads from left to right and back again almost faster than my eyes could follow. All this activity was accompanied by a squeak identical to that of a rocking chair on porch floorboards. Creaking wood, the clack of the loom arms, the silent slide of the various parts, all encompassing the living heart of the machine. His eyes never left the loom, never lifted from his work--not even when I snapped several pictures and my flash exploded around him. His eyes never left the space before him. In the midst of the hive of colors, he was methodically producing one strip of black and white Kente cloth embellished with a golden stool design. Every proverb, aphorism, or slogan I knew about patience, diligence, determination, winning, and loyalty came to mind, and they all applied.

I thought about how an ocean away people in my state were (most likely) complaining about the cost of an item. I realized that bargaining with the one who produces a work is very different from demeaning the newly-hired salesperson about an item he or she had no connection to, other than a weekly paycheck. I thought about how most everything comes from some source outside of my own self, and if I am not the patient producer of that object, I should not accept or give complaints.

When I left he was still sitting at his loom pedaling. In my mind, he will always be there--it is the only memory I have of him. It is the only photograph that I was able to take. It will always be the only way I know him. When I lift a piece of Kente, I will bring it to my ear, and I will imagine I hear the creak of his machine, the rhythm of his fingers feeding thread into its mouth to make fabric, and I'll see the swallowing and the surfacing of those brilliant threads. To me, he is that cloth. What, I wonder, am I?

Crafts in Kumasi

When I first read that Kumasi was the cultural center of Ghana I was not certain what was meant by that. It never ceases to amaze me the value of experience and being an eye-witness.

Here in Kumasi, we have dedicated all of our formal activity to experiencing first hand some of the cultural richness of the Asante region. The Asante region of which Kumasi is the capital is also the center of the Akan civilization that I talked about many blog entries ago.



I will spend the first part of this post talking about three more craft visits we have made. In the last blog I already referred to the talented bronze worker. In our travels we have seen many of the bronze pieces available for sale. Our next visit on Monday morning was to a village called Pankronu where women control the pottery industry. A very old woman whose name I did not get danced and pranced around while she explained to us (with and interpreter) her craft. Actually, she and three other women whipped up from molds of clay about five different pieces in the space of about 20 minutes. We were sitting in plastic chairs in the middle of the village watching as other potters sat around and watched. We were exposed to a little drama when another potter arrived late and she was fussing at the others because they hadn't called her. It was funny to see the others scold her for her rude behavior as the show went on. After putting down their pieces so they could dry (in the misty rain) our host explained the process to us. In our question and answer session it was revealed to us that only women worked in pottery. In fact because the women went to the clay pits topless (because of the mess I'm sure) a man would be looked on very badly if he was anywhere around when women were gathering clay. It then started to rain harder so we went inside our host's house and she continued answering questions. The most interesting thing I learned here was that they didn't fire their works until they had about 1000 of them. And then they hauled them all to the outskirts of town where they made a huge fire and cooked the pieces there. When they were the most successful, the word would spread that the women of Pankronu were firing their pots and buyers would show up and buy them straight from the fire. The ones that didn't sell were transported back to the village by the women who made them. As we prepared to leave all of the potters who visited us boarded our bus to shake our hands one more time. Of course, our hoist danced her way through. These women were a pleasure to see.

Our next stop was in the village of Ahwiaa the home of the tradition of stool carving. These craftsmen used a variety of axes, knives, and forges to create some of the most beautiful stools I have ever seen. I was surprised to learn that for the men they shape the seats with a round shape while the stools for women are flat across the top. They make the benches out of hardwoods like teak, mahogany, cedar, and sese. Sese is the most durable wood and they make the most important benches out of it. For instance if a new Asantahene (king) was enstolled) they would make his new stool from sese. The tools these artists used were long and awkward looking to me, but these guys handled them with the greatest of skill. When we were turned loose to browse amongst the various shops of stools and other pieces made from wood, I was moved by the quality and made three purchases which will be very interesting to show students. One piece was a stool with the Sankofa symbol. The Sankofa is a bird that looks to his own back, and means that it is always permissible to go back and fix things you didn't quite get right the first time. The stool is a dark brown and is simply beautiful. I also bought a mask which is pretty simple in design. I think it is the simplicity which makes it so beautiful. And my final piece I bought was a sculpture that represents three movable people carved from one piece of wood. It is called unity. Family, community, and unity are revered here as qualities of life way more important than wealth. It is actually quite refreshing.

We then ate lunch and went to Ntonso to meet Percy Anquah who specialized in the making of Adinkra cloth. The adinkra process is where cloth is decorated by the use of stamps which have proverbial meanings. The artists skill was excellent as he created beautiful cloth almost without effort. This was a particularly even more fun stop for us because we all got to make a small piece for ourselves. For my two little squares I chose the crescent which means faithfulness and this design that represents a crocodile and the saying that goes with it is the crocodile lives in the water but breathes the air. It is a symbol that stresses the importance of adaptability. A common misconception of many people in the west is that Africans practice animism, but the truth is they simply use animals to depict the behavior of everyday people. The proverbs are very interesting.

We also visited the village of Bonwire to see how Kente cloth was made. The weavers who are traditionally male, but now a few women to practice it, are very talented. The demonstration they gave was extraordinarily brief. I am sure they just wanted to sell their works to this "group of Americans" who were ready to buy. The selling techniques of the artists was much to high pressure for me so I didn't purchase anything. The talent of making kente cloth traditionally comes from carefully watching a spider weave his web. It is a fantastic skill and the designs on the cloth tell a story much like that of the adinkra.

I have a surprise for you as I am trying to prod my traveling companions to post a blog. The first one willing to do so is Susan Parker, a 38 year teaching veteran from Fayetteville, North Carolina. The posting after this one is from Susan.

Activities and Observations in Kumasi

Kumasi is certainly a lot more busy than the Bolgatanga area. According to one set of statistics Kumasi is the largest (in pop.) city in Ghana. Its culture explodes out at you a little more than in Accra. We are staying at a very nice hotel called the Hotel Rexmar. Like the Erata in Accra, it has a nice pool area with bar (they even sell pizzas). There is AC in the rooms and a TV with a few channels available. Yesterday I watched parts of a Valencia/Inter Milan match. I watched a portion of a Namibia/Botswana friendly, and a little part of a Lethoso/Angola friendly. Our schedule is extraordinarily busy so I don't really have time to lounge around watching football all day.

The other day when we were visiting the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST), we visited the art department. I am always very moved especially by student art. It is a subject that I now wish I had devoted more time to when I was younger. One piece of sculpture that I really enjoyed was a piece that was done with the following theme as the assignment: Premarital sex has two face. The piece was a sculpture that protruded from a board. One side of the face looked bright and peachy and full of life, while the other side was distorted and confused. I could not help but wonder if the artist meant that premarital sex can have its good feelings, but can also cause aids (there are tons of public service billboards warning against the dangers of unsafe sex practices and virginity in general). Or did the artist mean that premarital sex was psychologically damaging at too young of an age? I was discussing this with Ida Malloy (one of our group) who said she wasn't sure either, but she did say that art was therapeutic and to that I agreed.

On Friday, we were able to shed the weight of our school gifts as we paid a visit to our last schools. We had the option of choosing one of two junior secondary schools (middle schools), or one primary school (elementary school). I chose the elementary school. I went in armed with a Polaroid camera and a few sample of American currency. At first I asked the students about the leaders of Ghana. Almost all of them knew that Kwame Nkruhma was the first president of Ghana (1957). None of them knew that George Washington was the first pres. of the US. I showed them some currency and they showed me some of theirs. It was a fun exchange. I then began milling around during their lunch break. The name of the school I visited was the Kokoben Primary School. There is no lunch room, but the school contracts out to a nearby kitchen to have lunch brought in around 10:30 AM. When lunch arrives the students get about an hour to mill around and do whatever they want. I would have liked to have been that proverbial fly on the wall so I could have seen what they would have done if five Americans (obroni, as foreigners are called) had not been in their midst. After they had eaten (in about ten minutes) the children swarmed around Ellen Cummings, Jennifer Johnson, Mora Martin, Susan Parker and me. With cameras flashing the students would strike funny poses and run up to the digital camera to see what they looked like. They would usually get a big chuckle. We then started to organize smaller group shots (by grade) with the one Polaroid camera we had. I taught them to say cheese on three, which they didn't really understand ( I am not sure I have ever fully understood as I have never really understood if cheese has brought about the desired smile). I then was standing in a big crowd of little ones so I asked them to sing me a song. They broke out into a song that goes like this: I am H - A - P - P - Y; I am H - A - P - P - Y; I am sure I am; I know I am; I am H - A - P - P- Y HAPPY!!!!!. They would clap in rhythm with each letter they spoke.

After a little while they returned to their classes and I went to fourth grade class where the students were permitted to ask any question they wanted. I was having a really good time when Jennifer had come by and said it was time for us to go. We had to pick up the others from the other two schools and get on to participate in a local ceremony the shrine of a priest.

One of the most interesting parts of being here in Ghana has been that we will be driving down some road and turn into a very packed-in housing complex (like the one we visited in Tongu), and stop the bus in go inside. Well, this is what we did after having a late lunch on our school visit day. As soon as we arrived several young men and women saw to it that all of us had a place to sit. We lined the perimeter of a meeting area in the priest's house. I wasn't ready for what was going to happen next. All of a sudden it started to rain (and rain hard). We retreated to a small room where we participated in a ceremony where we were poured a little bit of gin. You poured a little on the ground to offer to the gods and drank the rest yourself. After doing that the rain had slowed and we returned to the meeting area and drummers started playing. A group of women off to one side started dancing when a priestess dressed in a black and white wrap and covered with clay dust started dancing. She had what looked like a horse's tail (although I don't believe it was an actual tail) in one hand and a ceremonial blade in the other. She danced around for a few minutes and went back inside. Then another woman began dancing closer to us seemingly to show us how to get into what was happening. Then the priestess reappeared and Lynn (one of us) was pulled out onto the floor. As Lynn put it later, she gave it he best "clubbin' " effort. I thought she did alright. Slowly all of us sere asked to join in. We had to take off our shoes and do our best to interpret what to do. We were then asked to sit down and the priestess disappeared again. She then reemerged with a live chicken. I then got a sinking feeling for a moment because I didn't really want to watch a chicken get killed. But in rhythmic fashion while dancing she rang the chicken's neck (she did not let go of the chicken until the ceremony was over. We then were all asked to dance with her again. She chose several of us to dance with the whisky thing or the ceremonial blade. She then threw clay dust on us and later a mixture of charcoal and gin was rubbed on our legs (while dancing). As the dancing was winding down, we were all told to tell an egg what it is we were praying for. We then one by one went into her shrine and knelt before her and to ourselves said our prayer. It was really a unique experience. We have not yet had the time to debrief with Agya Koo Nimo, but I will try to remember to tell you what it all meant. Well, it is early in the morning here (about 7:15). I am going to return to my room to bathe and get ready for breakfast. Today, we are attending the Akwasidae Festival. Yesterday, we also attended a funeral. I will try to write about the funeral and the festival next. See you then. Tohajie!!!

A New Tale in Kumasi

Donald Amuar, our leader while we we were in the northern parts of Ghana, informed us that we are all implicated in the events of history. He said this as we were debriefing after our visit to the Pinkora Slave Camp. He followed up by saying that there is no reason for us to hide from what has happened. I am trying to apply that way of thinking to my experiences here. My younger brother, David, who is a 19 year veteran in the army (I think he is a Lt. Colonel by now) has told me that it usually takes him about two weeks before a newly visited nation begins to appear not so different to his eyes. I would have to say that that was good advice because now that I am three weeks into my visit (the half-way point), I am not seeing the poverty the same way; I am not seeing the challenges this nation faces the same way. I am beginning to see how this country is dealing with those challenges, and although they are very poor economically (compared to the US) how they are in the process of growing their economy. So when I hear Donald say that we are all implicated in the events of history, I am hearing him ask what is it that an individual proposes to do about it. I am not sure what the answer to that is, but I want to comment on it now.

Agya Koo Nimo (AKN for this posting), a legendary Ghanaian musician, is our leader while we are in the Kumasi area. His band has been asked to travel to Cote D'Ivoire early next week so we have packed a bulk of our work in Kumasi to the first five days we are here. We have just finished day three. On our first night, AKN brought his band of drummers, guitarists and dancers to perform for us. As we learned in the north it is acceptable to reward the band by placing a Cedi on the forehead of one of the dancers. It was raining on the pool deck and the dancing was good so I rewarded his efforts. The entire group splits all the money they collect. After the dancing portion of the show, AKN brought us in closer as he and his band acoustically performed for us. He would tell the story about which he was going to sing and then perform. I am going to relay two of those stories to you now. One was about a very old man who was who was planting a coconut tree. When his grandson saw this, he asked his grandfather, "Grandfather, why are you working so hard on a tree that you will never see grow to bear fruit?" The grandfather answered because it will connect me to the ancestors and it will help provide for you and your family for years to come. the grandfather continued by saying that we do these things because it connects us to the past and the future and that these links are very important. It also I believes shows the importance of working hard today for things they may never directly benefit us. It was very soft and soothing song that I enjoyed very much. There were 3 guitarists (one of which was AKN), and several percussion performers playing a variety of instruments. AKN was singing and there were back-up singers who provided nice rhythm with gentle clapping.

The next story I am going to tell you I took as a personal challenge for my visit here. I have also tied to the message I took with me from Donald during my visit to the north. AKN told a story that he said relates to nation-building. Before i can tell you the story it is important that you realize that the rainy season in Ghana lasts about four months from June to October, and then there is the dry season. The song the band performed was about how the ants work hard during the dry season, so that they could rest and enjoy the fruits of their labor during the rainy season. This is of course an age-old story told all over the world, but it helped me to see something about my goal for this visit. One of the reasons for this visit is so that I can learn how to teach about Africa without all of the stereotypes (like Tarzan, jungles and wild animals all over the place). I also planned to come to figure out a way if I could somehow help the people of Ghana. As I stay here longer I realize that Ghana and the Ghanaian people like the people of any nation must address their own challenges in their own way. A group of people must have ownership and the best way to help a group is to give them what they need not what you believe they need. I think one of the weaknesses of the west helping developing nations in the past is that it has lent assistance with too many strings attached. It is hard for us to lend what we term "humanitarian" aid to someone without putting our stamp of morality on it. This relates to the story of the ants because I see the Ghanaian people working hard within a system that they are developing to become a nation that adheres to solid democratic ideals. These ideals are patterned after those of the British or the US, but they are in the end, Ghanaian. They are filled with Ghanaian tradition and Ghanaian custom. The Ghanaian people know what challenges that they are facing, and would probably benefit from further assistance from the west, but not if that assistance forces them to conduct in practices they don't believe they need to grasp or can understand. I think the any story calls on Ghanaians to work hard until they can feel secure that they are out of poverty. I believe any Ghanaian would say that this country has a long way to go, but I also believe that the people of this nation want and deserve that chance.

The ant story affected me on a personal level as well. I believe the Lovett community where I work is willing and able to lend some sort of micro economic assistance to people in Ghana. I believe that Donald Amuah would serve as an excellent connection t help us facilitate that. My proposal is to try to get the Lovett community to try and raise money so that we can send three NGO's (non-profit organizations) a regular donation each month. The amount does not have to be large, but i think the gifts need to be steady. I have not mentioned this to Donald because we were instructed not to make promises (that we might not be able to keep). So, I am going to try my hardest to make this happen. I also want to work as hard as I can so myths about Africa can dispelled because of my visit here to Ghana.

I will follow up a little in my next blog entry. I just wanted to say this to my Principal, Bill Dunkel. I purchased a chess set (featuring traditional Ghanaian caricatures) where all the pieces were made in an extraordinarily environmentally safe process using old palm fiber (not used in cooking that would otherwise be thrown away), hornets wax, charcoal from local trees, clay, and bronze used from old metal scraps from old kitchens and bathrooms and other scrap metals. It was an impressive process.

I hope everyone back home is doing well. I love when you respond. Take care!!!

A Follow-up on the North and our trip to Kumasi

Well our good fortune with travel has remained with us as we have traveled back south again. This time we have landed in Kumasi, which is the cultural center of Ghana, and if I am not mistaken is the most populous city in the country. From the bus point of view downtown Kumasi appears to be like the other metropolitan areas we have passed. There are many many shops, which mostly have names related to Christianity. Perhaps the most interesting one we passed yesterday was the Jesus Can Do It Plumbing Service. We are staying at the Hotel Rexmar which is located on the southwest perimeter of the city according to the map. I believe we are several miles from the town center. We have a lot of activities jammed in to our 9 day stay in this area including meeting the queen mother and seeing kente cloth being made. Our activities should do well at further dipping us into Ghanaian culture.

I now want to discuss further my impressions after being in the north. The Bolgatanga area was a small metropolitan area with plenty of bustling activity. Some of the members in the group made some of the fabric sellers in Bolgatanga very happy as they bought yards and yards of cloth. I had asked Mora Martin, a member in our group to purchase a piece for me to serve as a table cloth and Kellee (another member of our group) bought it from me because she liked it so well. I didn't mind letting Kellee have it because I am fairly certain that I will come across a piece of cloth that will serve my needs. From a shopping point of view men's smocks, these nifty little hats, and baskets seemed to be the highlight of what folks were interested in. I am afraid I did little to boost significantly the economy in Bolga as I purchased a small bag of millet, a small bag of rock salt, and a few kola nuts so I could photograph them. I allowed Joan (yet another group member) to use the disks for my digital camera (since it is broken) in exchange for two disposable cameras. I am being very selective in what I shoot since I have only 54 pictures on the two cameras. I figured that most of my students had never seen millet (I hadn't) so I decided to take a close-up picture. I would bring it home to show, but I do not believe U.S. customs would allow agricultural products (no matter how small) into the country.

enough for now about our economic activity and on to some interesting visits we also had. On Sunday afternoon, we were scheduled to see 4 different groups of dancers. The emcee explained what each of the dances meant. We were greeted with a tumultuous downpour which postponed the performance till 4:30. The wetness also moved the show from our hotel courtyard to the local Catholic Church social hall. I had become very sleepy, but the energy of the dancers and the drummers brought me back to life. We also participated in this custom by placing cedis (Ghanaian currency) on the foreheads of the performers.

Perhaps our most interesting visit was to a village called Tongu. There we me the chief who was in the middle of surveying the dirt road that ran through the village. With him was a contractor. They were discussing the costs and materials needed to pave the road on which we were walking. It was very fascinating to wee a chief (a traditional position) engaging in such a modern activity. After we talked with and thanked the chief, he graciously instructed our guide to show us his home. It was very interesting to see his complex, which was home to more than 300 people. They all did not live there now as many of the young people live in Accra and Kumasi for economic opportunity. The complex had a meeting place where the extended family would come together to discuss the various issues that are certain to arise. Our guide showed us where the first wife would live, and in her room subsequent wives would stay with her for a period of three weeks to learn how to properly "look after" the chief. The neatest part of visiting this housing complex is knowing the purpose of the structures. There were areas set aside for storing grain. There were both indoor and outdoor kitchens. there were over 100 different structures altogether. It was quite elaborate. The two highlights of this particular stop on the tour of Tongu was seeing a very old woman (she was 87) sitting just outside her room weaving a basket. This reminded me of one of our lecturers statements of how Ghanaians were proud of the fact that they had no need for such institutions as "old folk" homes. Ida Malloy ( a group member) approached the woman and as she began to arise, Ida extended her hand to help her up,l but the woman shooed Ida's hands away and hopped up on her own and started dancing a little jig. The laughter from the group was thunderous, and the woman was simply delightful. The other highlight was when we were offered some Pito from the guide. Pito is a beer like beverage made from millet. Sam, Kellee and I were the only ones daring enough to try it. It tasted like a sweet beer. also at the house we visited a shrine where sacrifices are made so that one can climb into the Tengzu cave and ask the deity for help with personal matters (marriage, money for further education for your children etc...). It was interesting to find out that when an animal is sacrificed that the meet is taken away and prepared for eating. It is only the soul of the animal that one offers to the gods. This practice fits into the very eminent practicality that is apart of the things they do. As we left the chief's place if you will, we noticed the dish for tv, and the solar panels for electricity. It was a very nice blend of traditional and modern living. The one evident challenge of all of Ghana is the very serious need for indoor plumbing on a universal basis.

We left the chief's house to enter the sacred cave. Before I tell you about that though, I am going to do my best to quickly describe this area. It is part of the savanna of Africa and there is a multitude of tall grasses and in the Tongu area there are more huge rocks than one can imagine. these rocks have naturally settled into areas in which they have formed "caves." They are not really caves in the sense of a dark extended passage way where Tom Sawyer would play, but they set up nice "rooms" in which things can be accomplished. Most notably, the people of this area in the past used such caves to hide form slave raiders. The guide boasted that none of the people of Tongu were ever captured. the other modern day use of the caves was that they were used for classrooms. The one we were in shielded inhabitants from the rain and from any direct sun until around 4 in the afternoon. Well we all know that school ends before four. they now have a school building, but the space we were occupying is still used for kindergarten through 2nd grade. Wow!!!!

Finally for this blog entry, I will discuss our visit to the shrine. To enter an individual must strip down to nothing but his or her underwear. When he heard this Sam said,"Isn't that funny to go to the Vatican you got to get dressed up, but to visit this god you have to get naked." Well we climbed up the rocks to the cave. It turned out that one could simply role up his or her long pants, but you did have to remove your top. The men went first and we allowed the ladies to0 go (topless) without us. It was a fascinating experience. When we got into the cave there were already three men in there and they told us more of the tradition. I was interested in these stories but found myself daydreaming as I looked out from up high and could see for many many miles. It was quite beautiful.

Well that is all for now. The Hotel Rexmar in Kumasi (where we will stay for nine days) is very nice, but it has only one computer that I have dominated for long enough. there are others waiting. I am going to go and "take" my breakfast. I will try to write daily while we are here. This might be ambitious, but the Internet connection is the best we have had yet. See you for now.

Roadtrip, slave camp, crocodile pond, Burkina Faso, ADEP, and Swopa

Hello Folks! At last I have had both the time and have found an Internet Cafe' to send a report.



In the last few days, we have done everything listed in the title of this blog entry. I will proceed in a matter of fact manner, and try to write more thoughtfully when I get a chance.



On Tuesday, we began a two day journey from Accra to the northern town of Bolgatanga. The van we have was packed very full with our luggage, our boxes of water (and wine), and people. The trip on the road from Accra was filled with many reasons for us to slow down including potholes, road works, and spped bumps. Because the power does not often function speed bumps are used on major roads to slow down the traffic. In the US, you usually hope to travel a mile per minute. Here you hope to travel a kilometer per minute. The infrastructure here is improving. In 1984, we were told that it took approximately 11 hours to travel the 140 kilometers from Tamale' to Bolgatnanga. On Thursday we made the trip in about two hours. On the the first day of the roadtrip, we stopped at the Silicon hotel near Kumasi. It was owned by a man from California who was dedicated to educating folks on the history of the US on civil rights. There were plaques on the wall dedicated to Sojourner Truth, Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, Daisy Bates, and Malcolm X. It was really neat. The trip on wednesday from Kumasi to Tamale' was very long. It took us nearly ten hours, and when we arrived we had to wait because there was amix up on our reservations. The next day we toured an Islamic high school in the morning and preceded to Bolgatanga. The school was an interesting place, but they were in the middle of exams, so we only stayed for about an hour. I met the soccer coach who was very interesting (he has a brother in Atlanta), and we talked about coaching. I gave him two soccer balls, two pumps, and a handful of extra needles. Hopefully, the gift will help him when the new term begins.



We then travled to Bolgatanga, where we checked into the Comme Ci, Comme sa Hotel. It is appropriately named, but the cokes cost about 50 cents and the very large beers are slightly less than a dollar. Life could be a lot worse. We feel the rolling black-outs the country is experiencing, and we have to share a bed with our roomate. I haen't slept in the bed with another man since a soccer trip many years ago. It will be fine. We will be here until tuesday when we travel back to Tamle' and on to Kumasi.



Friday marked my favorite day of the trip so far. We had a potpourri of stops. Our fist stop was a place called the Pinkora Slave Camping Site, which was used byraiders to hold slaves until they had enough to transport them some 500 miles to the cost to the castles at Cape Coast and El Camina. We will visit both of those sites in a couple of weeks. The Pinkora Site was unfortunately a prime example of how humans can take full advantage of what nature provides. On the site there was a well that flowed up through the rocks so that captives could drink. The raiders fed the captives on the ground so thae captives scraped out bowls in the rock. It was very well-preserved. There was also a place where the captives would beat on the rocks with stones while singing songs about resisting the efforts of the raiders breaking their spirit. I nthe brochure the musis was referred to as "rock music". a group of local men played a few songs for us. It was enormously moving. We continued the tour of the facility which was about one square kilometer, and went to the watch post for the raiders. This spot was a location with about three very large rocks naturally stocked, which gave the raiders a good perspective from which to protect their interests. They were there to watch out for locals wishing to rescue their family members who had been captured, and to also thwart the effort of rival raiders looking for the "easy score." The area was subject to attack from three different ethnic groups. One was from present day Mali, one was from present day Burkina Faso, and one was from an area in Ghana that was off to the east. The final stop on the rougly one-hour tour was a spt where captives who were "stubborn" were beaten were often killed to serve as an example. It was truly a stop which will give me a much more complete understadning of a topic in which I have always felt very interested.



We then preced to the nearby Zenga Crocodlile Pond to a village where the crocidile is a totem animal. This means that the animal is sacred and can not be harmed. For a small fee the crocodile guys lured about three or four alligator cousins out of the pond. They then got one of them who was about 89 years old to sit still so we could either sit on its back or hold its by its tail. I held its buy its tail, and will post the picture of me on this blog when I can (which I am starting to believe won't be until I return home in late august. The crocodile was sacred because he led a warrior who was lost many years ago to water and safety. The warrior thanked the croc, and now it is believed that each family in town has a special crocodile dedicated to them. The crocodiles roam the village in the night and will not bother the goats and people of the area. When asked how he knew the crocodies age, the "trainer" said his grandfather lived here when the crocodile was born. It was a really cool story.



We then proceeded a little north and crossed the Burkina Faso border just so that we could say we went into Burkina Faso. I tried an ear of corn cooking on the open grills and a piece of goat meat. Neither is a dish that I am craving to try again, but it was fun to eat. All of the meat here is enormously spicy, and I am having reasonable success eacting the local cuisine. I find myself craving a steak from Garrison's and some soup from Thai Diner near my house. The most interesting part of crossing into Burkina was hearing how people who had historical ties for a very long time spoke English in Ghana and French in Burkina. You got a love that colonialism.



Next, we went to visit a place called the Association Development for People (ADEP). It was a essentially an NGO (like a non-profit organization) designed to grant local (women) farmers micro-credit loans. The average loan is about one new Ghanaian Cedi which is slightly more than a dollar. The group fed us which made me feel like I was stealing, but yo shold have seen the faces of the members when Max informed them that we would be leaving them 100 Ghanaian Cedis. I hink I have found an organization that Lovett can assist with funds to help ADEP provide loans to people who make very little per year. In this area, it is estimated that nine of ten people subsist below the poverty line which is earning about 7 Ghanaian Cedis a year. That equals about $7.50 a year. I will give this internet cafe' a bit more than that for being able to post this entry.



Today, we visited The Sirigu Women's Organization for Pottery and Arts (SWOPA) in the town of Sirigu. They have a website, but the guide did not know the web address. Google it if you wish; the guide said there were some pics and info. It was really fascinating. The whole time I was there I was thinking about how cool Tom Zwirlein would think this place was. The had little rooms that one could rent for about 7 G cedis a day. The place was provided electriciy by solar panels and is part of program that is called eco-tourism, which the slave camp and croc ponds are also a part. The tour guide showed us his own families living complexes. He showed where the millet (a grain) was stored and where the family made decisions led by the elder. There was an intersting story that I had added but due to Internet conncetion troubles that part didn't save. I'll suffice if for now to say the the royal python is a sacred animal here and lives in a portion of each person's home. By for now, check back soon. I am really digging this trip.
Tohajie is out!!!

Heading North

Greetings from Tohajie!!!

We are leaving Accra to head north to Kumasi for a night and then on to Tamale' and Bolgatanga. It will be roughly a 21 - day excursion until we return to Accra for our home stay. We are storing a big portion of our luggage, and trying to ravel as light as possible. I am trying to wash a little bit of my clothes each night. It is an experience that is very satisfying. It reminds me of pumping water on a backpacking trip.

I wanted to take some time out to reflect on our first ten days here in Ghana. We have been extraordinarily fortunate to hear from the very gifted professors along the way. Yesterday was no exception.

The first we lecturer was an expert on land uses in Urban areas of Ghana and how it is changing. The professor's name was Joseph Ayee, and he spoke about Urban sprawl in the Accra-Tema metropolitan region. The Accra area differs from Atlanta in that it has a bay that stops growth in the south, but it is similar to Atlanta in that there are not really any boundaries that stop it from spreading in any other direction. An urban area is defined in Ghana as an area that has a population of 5000 or more. A rural area is defined as one with 4999 and less. Around the time of independence in 1957 approximately 20% of Ghana was urban. By the 2000 census, the urban percentage had jumped up to over 44. The urban areas, Accra-Tema in particular, have received a disproportionate amount of money for its infrastructure. Seeing how most of the wealth that comes into Ghana is a product of gold, cocoa, and trees (all found in rural areas), the metropolitan areas have had more money allocated to its development than the income it brings in. The Accra-Tema area is a good area for investment however because of its proximity for land locked nations such as Burkina Faso, Niger, and Mali. Accra-Tema can serve as a port, so the development seems to me like a worthwhile investment.

It seems that land usage is the biggest problem that is hurting the growth of the greater Accra region. About 80% of the land is still distributed in the customary fashion, which I am sorry to say I do not understand so well as of yet. Here is what I understand so far. The chiefs and their subordinates dole out the land as they see fit. If they tell a farmer he can use it for five years and if a developer comes along and makes the land controller a better offer then the chief can make a new deal with the developer leaving the poorer farmer out of the loop. This of course creates a very desperate situation for farmers who fall in this category. The area around Accra is lined with a blend of commercial shops and small farms. It is unlike anything I have witnessed in the United States. It is a problem that is hindering Accra's development, but there are signs of growth. It was very interesting when Professor Ayee said that the youth all are desiring to own cars, so they can sit in the traffic jams of the city. Doesn't this have a familiar ring to it. It will be interesting to see how well Accra compares to other urban areas we will visit like Tamale, Kumasi, and Cape Coast.

It is also interesting to speculate how the need for debt relief (as we discussed last week) might help this developing nation handle its very modern day problem of urban sprawl.

I will change direction now because yesterday afternoon we were treated to a talk by Owuso Brembong who is an expert on the many festivals of Ghana. There are two national festivals (holidays) dedicated each year and there are two dedicated each year to Islam. There are also days of celebration for national holidays. A very special example of this would have been Ghana's 50th year of independence from the British on March 6th earlier this year. Now here is the interesting part. There are 68 different ethnic groups in Ghana that celebrate 174 different festivals a year that all have a different deity at its base level. Naturally these festivals do not receive a national holiday status, but the preparation and actual celebrations can last for two to three weeks, which does interfere with the amount of work that gets done in a certain region. We are going to attend Akwasidae Festival in Kumasi in a few weeks. In the Akwasidae Festival, people try to make connections to their ancestors (those who have died in this life).

Again I don't fully understand the traditional religions, but they go like this as far as I understand. The Ontology is that the Supreme Being is called Onyama and his offspring make up various other deities. Next in the pyramidal structure are the ancestors who exist in the after-life. Then there are humans who are then followed by natural objects like trees, seas, rivers and animals. It is not acceptable to use the bathroom int eh river because of one's respect for nature. A love for mother earth is at the heart of these traditional faiths. One of the reasons why Christiananity and Islam blended so well with the traditional religions is because the gods of these monotheistic faiths did not offend the structure of the traditional religion. After all, how can another god in one's corner be a bad thing.

An interesting celebration that Professor Brempong told us about was the one in his home village (near Kumasi) of Techiman. The festival is called Apo] ( the ] stands for a backward "c" in the Twi language - it has an o sound). It is a festival that originated because the chief's sons were mistreating the people. they were riding around on horses and throwing arrows at folks. Some of the people were killed. In protest, the people refused to work and even more people began to die. At the behest of the gods the chief created a time in which people could compose songs that in essence complained to the chief. The chief was not permitted to retaliate against the people and was supposed to atone for his actions. As the years passed by, the festival has become an 11 day affair where anyone can right songs and sing them about anyone that they have a problem with. It is a time of reconciliation and sounds like a very civilized way to handle differences between people.

So there you have it - my rudimentary understanding of Urban sprawl and festivals. I wonder if any of you reading this find it a fascinating as I do. Take care for now and I'll try to blog again when we get to Tamale'.

The Dam and the Beach

First of all for those of you who are commenting on my blog entries, Thank you. I am trying to respond to any requests you have among the comments, so please look there to see if I have commented.

On Saturday and Sunday (yesterday and today) we visited the Akosombo Dam and the beach at the Com Si Resort. they were play days, but there were at least two valuable lessons that I learned.

At the Akosombo Dam, which is about a 90 minute drive from Accra, we joined two other groups to hear about and see the facility. It is a dam that was constructed in the early 1960's to help Ghana modernize in its push for electricity. It is a massive dam, and it blocks the red, white, and black parts of the Volta River. The damming created Lake Volta, which is the largest man-made lake in the world. On top of providing power to Ghana, the plant also sends electricity to neighboring Togo on the east and Cote D'Ivoire on the west.

One of the two other groups were a group of elementary-aged students, so the tour guide (who worked for the power company) talked at their level (his words). I was impressed because he was able to explain to the students and the adults all about how the dam functions. But I was also impressed because he was speaking about the importance of conservation at such a desperate time for Ghana. The intake tank is not supposed to go lower than 235 meters and it is dangerously close to there now. Ghana has been on rolling blackouts since last December and if they do not get their expected rains in the north during the months of September and October their power and water situation could become critical and maybe even severe. I thought it was interesting how the guide (who spoke as if he were an engineer) told the group of students how they could do their part.

By the way, I have figure out a way to download picture, but the Internet connection is slow and I have not yet had the patience to let a picture download. The Internet connection here costs about $5 an hour, so I will try another Internet Cafe' during our travels, so stay tuned.

Today, we were scheduled to go to the beach, but the one we planned to visit was closed due to the fact that it was heavily polluted. We drove east from Accra toward the area around Tema. We found one beach, but we couldn't get the bus down the road to discover whether or not it was suitable. We then found the Com Si Resort and even though the water was washing trash and debris on the shore, we decided to stay there. The area was very nice (except for the pollution). We had a shaded area in which to sit that was covered by coconut trees. There were two gigantic speakers banging out some reggae tunes, and a space on the beach large enough to play a 5 v. 5 football match. I joined our guides and their friends to play against 5 local boys. We hammered boards in the ground to make goal posts and away we went. My team had six players with one sub. Our team consisted of Ben, Daniel, Renel, Theo, Razak, and I. We won 5-0. Razak scored twice while Renel, Ben, and Daniel all scored once. Theo said he set up all the goals. I enjoyed myself thoroughly, and I am now considering retiring on the continent, so I can say I am undefeated in Africa. The truth is I don't think I did so badly. I won a few tackles and made some useful passes. I have never played in beach sand quite so thick. The sand in Daytona was always compacted due to the cars. After playing we drank a ceremonial victory beverage and grooved to the beat of the music. and then we went to a late lunch at a fast food joint called Southern Fried Chicken Express.

Not only did this place have fired chicken, but they had burgers, hot dogs, pizzas, Indian food, Lebanese food, fish, and Ghanaian food. There was a birthday party going on at the tables just down form ours and I helped a family out by taking a picture of all of them in it at one time. About the only difference between this place and a place off the highway in the United States was that here there was a bunch of cattle grazing in the open field on the other side of the road. It was fun.

Tomorrow we will work on our projects and prepare to drive to Kumasi and on to Tamale'. Keep checking and keep responding.

Tohajie is out for now.