An up-coming trip to the North, and cooking fiascos :)

Greetings family and friends!

Life is busy, even in Ghana ;) People tell me it’s not, but it’s still complicated to try to be efficient with my resources and time. C’est la vie.

There’s trouble in paradise – I’m having some difficulty with the things that were sewn for me, but hopefully I’ll work that out tomorrow. I also have plenty of money left from my stipend, because I think I’ve been reasonably frugal and I haven’t bought nearly all of my gifts for people yet, but I’m expecting to spend a lot on our trip to the North which will be happening this Thursday. We’ll be staying mainly in Tamale, but also making excursions to see tame crocodiles (at a temple, I believe), and also Mole National Park (pronounced “Molé”) where there are elephants! The North has a vastly different culture from the South, and is renowned for its leatherworking and smocks. It also has a completely different musical tradition from the South. Katie knows much more about it than I do because she’s taken a class on music in Ghana, but apparently even their instruments are different. For example, the xylophone is played in the North, but not the South.

The one other thing I know about traditional music in (perhaps only the South of) Ghana is that women are traditionally not allowed to play drums. Remarkably, a few women still choose to do their music major in drumming at the University of Cape Coast. Also, when we went to the shrine last week, the priestesses were not only encouraging and correcting the children; they would sometimes take the drums in the middle of the performance and play them to teach the children the missing rhythms. So, sometimes this taboo gets broken, whether for education or for self-edification that can never be expressed.

Also, I’m not sure what the word “smock” conjures up for anyone else, but for me it brings an image of a frilly, loose coat for a girl. Perhaps my impression is completely mistaken even in my home context, but anyway, it’s completely wrong for Ghana ;) Apparently smock-dresses are also made for women, but the only ones I’ve seen are these awesome loose sleeveless shirts for men that sort of flare out at the bottom. I love them. If I wore one of the ones I’ve seen, it wouldn’t precisely be modest by home or Ghanaian standards, however, because as I said, they’re very loose. People still tell me they’re good to wear when it’s “cold” however. Naturally, we have vastly different definitions of “cold”. Generally when you’re chilly in Ghana it’s late in the evening, you’re sitting right under a fan, and it’s on too high. But sometimes my sisters wear long-sleeved t-shirts when the wind’s blowing after a rain.

Speaking of rain, yesterday there was a large rainstorm. Akwasi says that they don’t have storms with “high wind” here, but again, it’s a relative thing. Their storms can flood a lot, and bring down big branches of trees (and trees themselves, Katie tells me) like a bad ice storm in the southern US, but just from the wind and rain. But then again, they don’t get hurricanes or tornadoes. I suppose there are hazards living everywhere, of different degrees and frequencies. This particular storm, however, made me happy by bringing down a branch behind our back porch, suddenly opening a marvelous view of the lagoon. It’s awesome, and don’t worry, I’ll take a picture :)

Right now the seminary and my house are deathly quiet most of the day while the seminarians take exams. We don’t even talk too loudly because some of them are writing not 25 feet from the house in what’s practically a garage, and our windows don’t shut. So, after the storm yesterday I tried to be very quiet as I prepared four dishes from home for our families here to eat. (Katie and Chantal also prepared food, and we all came together with our families at Chantal’s house that evening). Staying quiet proved easy until my sisters came home, at which point I hadn’t even finished one dish, but fortunately the seminarians finished soon after. And, then, fortunately, my sisters gave me lots of help, which complicated some things and made others easier.

All in all, I made mashed potatoes, cooked apples, fried okra and deviled eggs, and they all turned out fine. Most people liked all of them, except for my sisters who are slightly picky eaters ;) The mashed potatoes turned out precisely as they were supposed to. For the cooked apples, I added too much brown sugar, but they were still ok as a desert-type thing. The fried okra (called okro here) was ok, though I didn’t have corn meal. I ended up using corn flour, and whole eggs, and they were fried in palm oil. They were great when they first came out, though slightly less great after they got cold. (Ah well).

The real show-stoppers, however, were the deviled eggs! At their first introduction, Mother was alarmed by their name. How could I explain that a church dinner would be lacking without deviled eggs? I had thought about this naming issue before, and even imagined that it would cause a stir in my very religious family (though they didn’t seem to care that the cat in Cinderella is named Lucifer). After Mother commented, however, I realized that if I was an anthropologist visiting a culture and they told me they had Satan pancakes, I might wonder at the connection.

Then, of course, I couldn’t find all the right ingredients. Mayonnaise is plentiful in Ghana, but I didn’t find mustard or paprika though people later assured me that they exist. So, I had mayo, some hot ground pepper that was red, salt, and sugar. One of my sisters added too much salt, so that was when the sugar came in, and surprisingly it did even out a little. Katie and I thought they were ok, though they were somewhat different from what we were used to (both in taste and also because the stuff turned out white, for various obvious reasons and also because cooked yolks in Ghana have less yellow color.) Gifty and Lawrence, however, *loved* them. They both ate several, even though Gifty was currently not eating eggs (she doesn’t eat some meat). Even the girls liked the inside stuff.

So, success! There were some hitches to the evening, but overall it went well, and people were fed. My last requirement is my African Traditional Religion exam tomorrow. Pray for me… ;) Then, it’s off to Tamale! Bright and early at 7am on Thursday in a rented van. It should be fun and interesting, and I’ll be taking pictures.

A couple of random topics for the day:

I don’t think I’ve written on this before, but it’s caused many strange moments during my time here ;) Generally when one beckons in the US, you either move your arm in a scooping sideways or pushing motion, or with your palm face up, you flick your fingers toward you. To wave goodbye, you might wave your hand and/or arm from side to side, or with your palm face out, move your fingers up and down. In Ghana, however, this last gesture is the one that means “come”, and people will sometimes simultaneously say “bra”, which is the word for come. Ninety-five percent of the time, if you (or a Ghanaian) make this gesture to a stranger, they will come. It’s a cultural thing that you come when you’re called. However, sometimes when I’m waving goodbye to people, I forget and make this gesture instead of just waving my hand side-to-side, and then people look at me quite confused, unless they’ve seen me mess up before. So it’s tricky, though not grave and quickly clarified.

As for this issue of being Ghanaian, it’s something that the Ghanaian government makes very difficult for foreigners, even though they’re very welcoming in general. They made something like 40 foreigners Ghanaian citizens this year (this was in the news several months ago). And in truth, it’s rather difficult to do. Ghanaians get very happy when outsiders speak their languages well, but those who do still stand out, especially if they’re white, because there just aren’t that many foreigners around. When the British moved out, they moved out. There are more in Accra than anyplace else, but that’s still not saying too much.

However, there are tons of non-Ghanaian countries, particularly in this year of the Ghanaian Golden Jubilee, that are saying they’re “proud to be Ghanaian” on their commercials. The advertising cycles that have hit hardest while we’re here are for paint (Azar, but now also others), beer (almost all Guinness), and the three major cell phone service providers. I’m told that none of them come from Ghana, but that they all claim it in some fashion or another. It’s just interesting, since I see less and less recently about being proud to be an American. Maybe I will when 2026 rolls around.

Anyway, that’s all for today! :) I love you all! I’ll write again as soon as I can.

Thank you so much for caring!

much love,

Rachel Rose