Pondering Race in Ghana, among other things

Hello family and friends!

An opportunity for another post has arrived, so I’m going to write more, though not much has happened by way of events since the last one ;)

As a note: I have been told, but have forgotten to check, that when you click on the pictures in my post, they'll get bigger.... so try that with the map, and I'll default make it bigger next time I add more to it ;) promise. This picture here is of me at Kakum National Park, on the first canopy/sky walk in Africa :) It's awesome to be so high up while not on a mountain. It's built from tall tree to tall tree so that passing between them, you can see all the layers of the forest. It's awesome, though tricky to walk on. I never felt like I would fall out, and no one ever has. Also, this is my first contribution to the "where in the world is the CCC staff shirt" project ;)

Things that have happened since Thursday: there’s communion at the 6pm seminary service every Thursday, and while I go every day (except Wednesday and Saturday, when the chapel services don’t happen) my family generally goes on Thursdays, so I sat with them instead of with the seminarians. They sang a song to a tune that I knew, which was nice. Don’t worry, though, I’m also learning some Fante tunes… though I have yet to learn the words ;) that’ll come in time. I also helped my friend Richard edit a sermon on Thursday, and got stung by a soldier ant. I now know specifically what that feels like; don’t worry, there are many worse things. They’re plentiful on a particular wall behind the house, and Abokoba explained to me that they don’t sting just out of meanness, but only when they get trapped or feel threatened in some other way. True to form, the one that stung me only did so because it got trapped under my shirt sleeve. Poor thing.

On Friday I had an “orientation lecture”, which is a component of the Guilford program. I think we’ll have 8 or 9 more, on every Friday when we don’t leave for a trip, and they’re supposed to better inform us about certain aspects of Ghanaian culture and the places we will soon be visiting. This one was on African Traditional Religion, and was quite well done. It was taught by a different person from my current ATR professor, and while we might eventually learn all of the same things I was just taught later in my 200 level class, it was nice to go ahead and learn them at this point. For example, we learned more about Okomfo Anokye, the traditional priest who helped establish the Asante empire, and also more about the various reasons why *so* many people here have facial scars. I mean, certainly not everyone does, but so many that you start to wonder about the proportion. I originally wondered if it was because of certain childhood games or common activities. It turns out that some of them are due to accidents, some have ceremonial purposes, some are meant to cure childhood illnesses/symptoms like convulsions, and some are meant to mark people.

This final one is far more positive than it sounds ;) Although can still be considered somewhat sinister. The professor lecturing to us on Friday said that his scars came because he comes from a certain village. Apparently, at the time of Okomfo Anokye, the Asantes were trying to defeat the Denkyira, to whom they formerly paid tribute, but who had asked far too much. So, they were looking for people to sacrifice, to gain power for the sake of the Asante people’s success, and the chief/king of this particular village offered himself. So, ever after Okomfo Anokye declared that no one from this village could ever be used as a sacrifice, and therefore they are all marked. So, in the olden days (this is a favorite phrase here, and especially in Kumasi) the royal executioners would know by the scars on their faces that those folk could not be touched. However, there’s also (currently living) a medicine man/healer from this village who uses this particular pattern of scarring as his personal mark- anyone he heals gets these scars as a mark of his work.

So, that’s what I learned ;) among many other things. On Friday I also danced at church again, though not nearly as enthusiastically as last time. I feel like the seminarians haven’t really seen me dancing & stretching myself, but they’re extremely amused nonetheless. I still find it extremely strange that I have no particular gift for percussion (I can clap in time, just not when I’m excited about anything), but can dance just fine to any rhythm.

The final thing that happened was the power outage in all of Ghana last night; in any case, such was the word on the street. Now, interestingly, the power here is supposed to go out once every five evenings, from roughly 6pm to 6am, to conserve power. Ghana seems to mostly use hydroelectric power, and so to save power when the dam water is too low, different communities get their power turned off once every 5 nights. It’s called “Lights Out”, and in my opinion, Ghanaians have an awesome outlook on this whole situation. They take it in good spirits, break out candles and a few charged lights… and even the use of these is debated because they take so much power as they’re being charged, and the phrase on everyone’s lips is “we all have to sacrifice”. They very much believe that this is for the overall good & well-being of Ghana/Ghanaians, so they find this strategy of a regular Lights Out perfectly acceptable.

As a result of Lights Out, however, no one could see to fix the machine that normal pounds/kneads the bread here. So, with the help of several normal bread-helpers and some seminarians we pounded (and measured, and prepared to bake) bread dough for 2.5 hours last night. No one said a word about kneading; it was all very interesting. We pounded it just like fufu: with a big stick that has a flat end, and pounding in a huge bowl-shaped mortar (I suppose that’s what it’s called.) I even did some, and people said “it is good”. They say the same thing whenever I’m washing my own laundry. It’s somewhat like post-hole digging- only you never get deeper, the dough only gets softer. Also, you’re relying less on the weight of the stick to bring it down. Instead you’re really *pounding* the fufu. One of my sisters corrected my technique ;).

Today all I’ve done is awoken, eaten some meat pastries, taken my medicine and typed, so I’ll talk about some other things. In particular, my family wants to know about issues of cultural adjustment and race relations, and while I dislike the idea of speaking too early before I’ve learned enough to have a better understanding, it’s also true that I’ve already learned and shifted my ideas a lot, so I’ll try to share that with you.

First of all, there are just difficulties understanding things people say here. For example, words I have misunderstood: Sir, soap (sounded like “soup”. I was very confused), pawpaws, and many other silly things. People here speak English with British & Ghanaian influences, and so it’s tricky to convert it into American English so that I can understand it. I’m ever so slightly afraid that I’m messing up my sister’s accents ;) But more than that, there are also people here who barely speak English at all, and I met one person who truly didn’t. And it’s simply not anyone’s fault that we’re having trouble communicating. I’m learning Fante at a fairly quick pace, but it’s just not enough in some situations. And saying things in a Ghanaian English accent rarely helps, because I often get it slightly wrong, and people don’t expect to hear it from me ;)

But the fact that anyone here speaks English at all is a complicated issue. It’s certainly unnecessary when trying to speak to each other, because even though people come from many different tribes and groups, almost all Ghanaians speak Akan as a first, second or third language. So the only place I really hear English in Cape Coast is in academic settings. Even though some businesses find it very useful, it’s very much the language of the colonizers, even though it’s now so entrenched. Also, it’s interesting that most people that I regularly interact with in Ghana (which is not to say most people, but still) speak better English than I speak French.

There’s also the issue of the Obruni (oh-bru-ni, sometimes oh-bru-nyi). Obruni means “foreigner” technically, but in practice it means “white person”. Sometimes African-Americans are called obruni either because they’re associated with that culture or because they’re so light-skinned. And anyone might call you Obruni, but most often it’s children. They’ll yell “Obruni!” or “Obruni, how are you!” Sometimes they speak as if they’re expecting an answer, and sometimes they don’t, because this is part of a chant that kids learn from a very young age. It goes:

“Obruni, how are you, I’m fine, thank you.” And sometimes they yell and scream it at you, and they’ll do it in big & small groups, and follow you and grab your hands, because it’s fun, and it’s what they’ve been taught to do- not only by other kids, but by their mothers. Sometimes I’ll be walking by, and mothers will chant it to their small children to try & get them to chant along. It’s bizarre to me because to call someone by what they are, particularly by their race, is taboo in the US unless you have no other option. You wouldn’t just say “hey black guy!” but here, I am completely against the norm, and it’s not like Obruni’s a bad word, or like they’ve ever done anything to me. It’s just a remarkably easy way of identifying me (and other Obrunis).

Of course, the American individualist in me cries out “I have a name! I am an individual! Call me by my name!” (People who know me do… people who meet me in passing don’t hesitate to say Obruni). But this culture is not individualistic- instead, they value community, and family, and “Obruni” is essentially the group that I come from. That’s their worldview, and so they call it like they see it.

Many people, though, see Obrunis as extremely gullible, however, and will take advantage of you. Some taxi drivers, for instance, or traders in the market who want to sell things overpriced. Kids will also come up to you and say “Obruni, give me 5 (or 10) thousand”. This really isn’t a lot of money, since 9,000 cedis = 1 dollar at the moment, but still. It’s weird to me, because while all of them could use extra money, not all of them *need* extra money, and I’m simply not used to people randomly soliciting cash from strangers unless they really need it… there’s sort of a pride issue in the United States which is overcome by the “they’re so gullible and have so much money that it doesn’t matter” factor in Ghana.

But not everyone feels this way. Some people say “Obruni, how are you” and either really mean it, or are children and don’t mean anything at all in any direction. And it’s for this reason that I’m trying to improve my Fante. Whenever people call out “Obruni!” I say “Otse den” which means “How’s it going?”. Because I may be ignorant, but I’m trying to correct that ignorance, and yes, of course, their language is good enough for me. I learn a lot more, and get used to the things I’ve already learned by speaking with people. The problem at the moment is that I don’t know many verbs, or even much vocabulary in general, so I can’t do or say anything creative. But I’ll be working on it.

Hmm, so I hope that’s a good beginning for that topic. I’m sure that I’ll learn more later, and look back on today thinking “o, I was so naïve”, but that’s cultural adjustment for you ;)

Other brief topics:

I was wrong about the money conversion thing: in July, 10,000 cedis will = 1 Ghana Cedi. So, a cedi will have roughly the same value as a dollar. There will be six months of overlap between the old currency and the new currency. And where we have cents, they’ll have pesowes (sp?)…

Also, while what I’ve learned from my African Traditional Religion lectures is that people around here have a profound respect for nature because they believe that everything (including every community & idea) has a spiritual aspect, people here don’t get “close to nature” in the same way that they do at home. I have particularly noticed that people here don’t sit on the ground. Practically ever. If I try to sit on the ground, they protest, and get me a chair or small stool. People use the latter quite often. Chiefs in particular are never supposed to sit on the ground, and that’s partially where the importance of stools (as a mark of chieftaincy and the ancestors) comes in. Especially no one at the UCC campus sits on the ground, though in my opinion there aren’t nearly enough benches to justify this. People also sit on somewhat raised things of concrete (around the gutter systems, etc) but never straight on the ground, or even on the floor. The one main exception is that seminarians will sometimes sit or lie on the floor during certain times of worship – particularly on Sunday when the adoration of the altar (I think?) occurs. Actually, I’m not entirely certain what it’s called, but it’s referred to as “the most holy sacrament”, so I really do need to ask ;) Because I’m sure that if anyone had asked me before what the most holy sacrament of any Christian group would be, I’d have said communion. (And I do take communion here, btw).

Anyway, I think that’s it for the day :)

Future topics:

The importance of marriage & children

Extreme homophobia leading to more intimate relationships between people of the same gender.

I love you all! I hope you’re doing well :) If you want my phone number here in Ghana, just send me an email and I’ll tell you.

Thanks for caring!

-Rachel Rose