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