Yes. Thank you random poster on the lawn in Accra. The struggle does continue. Finally encountering a little bit of down time in Ghana my thoughts continuously go to home and the luxuries that I am starting to miss. I miss my turkey sandwiches, my endless supply of water, a hot running shower, access to a gym, air conditioning, a large comfy bed, the list continues. And whenever these things flash through my head I think its less than five months Jessie, suck it up. People go abroad for a year and survive why can’t you?
Today I was sitting on a tro-tro and I looked down at my arms and was suddenly struck by how white I am. I mean, yes, I am a pale girl. Freckles and all- but I have never carried around “being white” wherever I go. First semester sophomore year before I got to take African Dance and Culture with the fabulous Charles Anderson, he came into our Dance and Society class to discuss race. He once said to us, “Do you carry around your white privilege everyday? Are you constantly thinking about the fact that you are white?” I dare not answer out loud, but I knew the answer was no. I never thought about my skin color until faced with someone different. Everyone around me was darker. I had a glaring spotlight on me. Not because I was white exactly, but because I was not Ghanaian. Little children with beautiful shining faces look up at you and scream, “obruni!” just hoping to grab your attention on the street because you are “different”. They wander outside of their “homes” to see us pass by…God I can’t even finish that sentence. Today I saw corners of a building shaded and pinned closed by a few flimsy-looking sheets…a naked child playing in the dirt. That is their home. Behind a pooh bear sheet wall is where they sleep at night. Talk about carrying around my privilege with me in Ghana.
There are so many things I see everyday that I want to remember and document, but there is no way I can remember all of them. So many things are different- so many sights cause me to re-examine, cause me to think about how lucky I am- cause me to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. This is the ultimate challenge.
The other day I was re-affirmed of my decision to come here. We had our last orientation “lecture” with the head of the dance department. The professor was named Oh! Nii Sowah. Cool, right? We walked into the dance hall which was an open room with a bunch of fans (not plugged in!!! gah) and a stage which currently had four or five instrumentalists paired with drums and other pieces of percussion. We started bare foot (as you can imagine, I was quite pleased since I HATE shoes) in a circle. Yes…from here on in, the smile never left my face. The drums began and we started moving. Slowly at first, a few rhythm exercises for us to get the beat into our body. Of course, the entire time I was thinking about Charles and African…I missed my lapa. Good thing I brought it! Hopefully I’ll find some use for it.
We all greeted each other personally, through shaking hands multiple times, and some dance majors were there as well to help out the class. Lets just say we ended up doing a form of a bon ta bah (spelling? Im probably butchering it, I apologize) and I died of happiness. Particularly when one student started yipping at me and called me Shakira, hips don’t lie. All I could think about was Brooke and my final project group….Miss you Becca, Meg, Rachel, Kimmy, and Brooke! They described dance as a way of expressing what is happening on the inside…to just let it out. Almost a direct quote from Bush women…I died. I almost wanted to cry out of happiness. It’s just how beautiful African dance is. How effortless it becomes for people. They were singing a traditional song, demonstrating what we hope to accomplish in our time here and all I could think about was the wind blowing through my face, the sweat coursing down my body, the way my heart was beating outside of its chest, and how I felt nurtured through this artform. Through this idea that nothing should exist solely on the inside. So, while I am scared out of my mind, and longing for my American luxuries, I am alive here. And thrown into a new world where people jump up to dance with you.
We did an exercise in groups of five where one person had to fall back and get pushed back up by their supporting group members. Basically trust falls. But the Ghanaians…they actually trust one another. Despite the ridiculous heat and dusty floors, they jumped in the air, pumped each other up, and caught all of their team members regardless of their weight, their color, their height…we were in it together. It was a beautiful two hours.
Going into Accra was quite another adventure…we visited grave of Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah (1909-1972). Here this man is an idol. Seriously. There is a huge statues dedicated to him and everything.
And here is where the famous man of Ghana is buried...under this magnificent structure.
His wife is also buried under there. FYI.
Also, super cool, Nelson Mandela planted a mango tree right next to it:
So, yeah. Unfortunately after these photos, my camera decided to be rude and die. So here is where the picture portion ends for this blog. Anyway, after we saw these structures, we walked inside and saw the actual site of where Kwame's body was buried. Pretty cool. Then we realized we were not the only group on a tour today. Yes, that's right, a group of children were on a tour. Beautiful, beautiful children. Decked out in their yellow and navy blue uniforms. They began to follow us, whisper, smiling to each other, and some even said hello. Almost all of the girls had shorter hair but had earrings in. They were all lovely. Once one had the courage to talk to you, you would slowly watch other children gang up behind them, and eventually twelve children would be staring at you watching your every move. One child told me their name, and said, "make sure not to forget it!". I unfortunately was not able to take pictures of them, but Kim was able to- so check out her blog. After we hit up the tour, we got back on the bus and proceeded to see Independence Square (where all of the festivities occur on March 6th) and the Presidents castle. GORGEOUS. I wish I could have taken some photos. However, then we passed through Makola Market.
Never have I been more happy to be on a bus. i am so glad that today was for our viewing pleasure only. I would have died if I had been told to go out and explore. First of all, I would have gotten lost, but second of all, there was so many people and too many things to look at! I would have gotten robbed immediately. I know it. haha An adventure for another day, I am sure. I still need fabric for clothing! Overall, I feel like each day I learn something new and encounter a different perspective that forces me to re-examine my priorities and everyday living habits at home. Welcome to a challenging environment! Today classes start, but I have yet to actually have one yet. I have Twi (one of the many languages in Ghana) this afternoon at 3:30 and then a history class called the Black Diaspora at 5:30. Should be an interesting day!
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