Dearest friends,
I have come to the end of my journey in Benin and it has been such an enlightening experience. Benin, much like Ghana has an educated population thqt loves to discuss politics as I have found out on at least three different bush taxi rides. Nonetheless, Benin is a unique place as a center of the slave trade, the Dahomey kings, and Voodoo.
My journey began with the small town of Ouidah. With its multitude to sights and monuments, unusually friendly people, and cobblestone streets it reminded me of historic Philadelphia. About 30 minutes after arriving we had walked nearly a kilometer with our backpacks so mine decided it was time to break. As I sat dejected next to my broken, I got a mango for consolation. Covered in the juice and hqving tied my pack back together, I was refreshed but was so happy to be greeted by a local woman who brought me water to wash off the mango juice. Ouidah is well known for the Route Des Esclaves, the 4km wlk that slaves took to the beach which is now decorated with voodoo symbols and other monuments. On the route to the ocean the slaves walked around The Tree of Forget, sorry I cant recall the exact name, but they walked around it three times to forget their homeland. Peppered with local parks I spent a lot of time sitting and hanging out. Apparently kids all the way across the world play very similar to how I did at a kid, it was nice to observe.
Abomey was the next stop, and will definitely be one of my favorite cities. Entering the village the first night I was surprised to see a procession of masked men beating drums with children following behind but not too close. Apparently this was part of a voodoo ceremony where the dead are returning back to the grave and if the children are touched by one of the masked men, they too will die. I had a unique opportunity to see the second part of the ceremony as well which consisted of a dancing free for all. Groups of some 5 people took turns dancing in front of a band. One of the things unique about the Voodoo religion is that it doesnt reject midgets or twins, but rather worships them. During the ceremony there were two female midgets who would dance as well as the swerving of their hips and subsequent falls would greatly amuse the crowd. They would pick out boys from the onlooking crowd and bring them to the center to dance on them so all the boys ran when they started dancing, but two unlucky ones got caught and were the centerpiece of the crowds enjoyment for some 15 minutes as they couldnt move while being danced on. Voodoo is a very complex religion very denigrated by Hollywood to the idea of Voodoo dolls. In actuality, Voodoo is composed of a supreme God and many lesser gods and the hr,ful voodoo dolls are actually pqrt of fetish which broke off from voodoo years ago. Voodoo and fetish are opposites. For instance if you wanted to cause harm to a person you would go to a fetish priest who would give you a prescription like the tail of a robin, skin of a hippo, head of viper, skull of crocodile and youd go to the fetish market and buy it. The priest would then take the ingredients grind them or burn them and put them inside a doll with a picture of the person. Now if you wanted to protect yourself fro, the harm the priest would cause by jabbing a needle into the doll, you carry a VOODOO doll. Voodoo is actually the counterbalance, in this case it protects you from fetish. Different than what I thought!
The next stop was Natitingou in Nothern Benin. The bus ride up nonetheless took quite a bit longer than expected because my bus didnt work so well. We would be crawling along the road passed by semi trucks competing with the goats walking along side the bus. Multiple times the bus broke down and wed get out and wait in the shade while they fixed it. At one point the bus started working as it was on top of the hill and so many of the passengers myself included ran alongside the bus to jump inside, much like Little Miss Sunshine style. Eventually the bus broke down entirely and we completed the last 200km in bush taxi which was also interesting because my driver decided he wanted to fit seven people rather than the typical six by adding a person next to him in the drivers seat.
After a 12 hour trip I finally arrived in Nati, as its called by the locals. I arranged to take a day long SAFARI in the nearby park of Pendjari. I met up with my driver at 5am and spent the day spotting baboons, antelopes, warthogs, some other species I couldnt identify. After a couple hours I was getting tired of it and frustrated because I hadnt seen any lions or elephants and I had paid enough to pet one. As we were driving along my driver turns to me and whispers, Les Elephants! Sure enough, there was a group of nine elephants trolling through the Savannah within 10 meter of the car. We just sat for a while and watched the fascinating creatures that on a one day Safari are only a slim chance to see. By then, the trip was worth it.
Theres a community of people in Northern Benin called the Somba that had resisted both the slave traders and Dahomey kings. Theyre houses are fascinating and are mainly composed of mud and rock but built in two or three levels. I stayed for a night with a Somba family and their house had two floors. The first was for cattle and chickens as well as defense mechanisms then there was a Y ladder made out of a tree branch with slivers cut out for foot holds that reached to the second level. On the second level was a small hut that you sleep in that you get into by lying on the ground and scuttling backwards until you can touch your feet to the ground by bending your waist. The whole to get in is just large enough for your shoulders. On the roof as well is large grain stores made of mud that look like teardrops with removable palm fronds as the cover. I spent the afternoon hoeing in the field with the children who do that every day after school. The kids were also a huge fan of the Uno game I brought with me which broke the ice immediately. I am sure that in just one day I played uno for 7 hours with 15 different kids!
The ride from Nati to Parakou, where I am now was a very typical Africa experience. Obviously, the car is packed with four people in the back and two people in the front seat. About two hours into the ride the car runs out of gas so our driver quickly driver to a nearby town and fills up while we wait under a tree along the road. Then were off again our trunk completely overloaded and tied closed and packed with passengers. We stop at the next village and two people in the car buy large white blobs of cheese but the sachets theyre in are not keeping out the water. So of course, the driver puts five large blobs of cheese on the hood of the car by the windsheild wipers and were off. Even though I wasnt a cheese owner I kept an eye on them to make sure they didnt fall off. Everything seemed to be in the clear until the only problem that could disturb the cheese game, the windsheild wipers started and didnt stop. I reached out my arm and grabbed a wiper to stop if from hitting two of the cheeses but it was still wiggling in my hand. We pulled over and unscrewed the wipers and were on our way. The cheese was safe and we arrived with little other trouble. C'est La Vie En Afrique!!
So next stop is Niger for the next week and a half. I will really miss Benin. Here I learned about the fascinating culture of the Tota Samba and the religion of Voodoo. I have decided that I am not really a tourist at this point. I am not staying in fancy hotels and avoiding locals, rather I am looking for culture and history. Therefore I see myself now as a Student of the World. Traveling to learn about different cultures, different ways of life, and the history of countries most Americans have never heard of.
Until next time,
Ben
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Togo, the journey begins
Bonjour Mes Amis,
I am sitting in a internet place in Togo, struggling to grasp the French keyboard which has all the letters in different places, so this entry will be shorter than it would be if I had an English keyboard, lol.
First I spent three days in Kpalime, Togo. Kpalime is a naturally beautiful village with dozons of NGOs and therefore a multitude of Yovos, or white people in the local language of Ewe. Within 5 minutes of arriving at my hotel I met two European girls who I met up with later that night to play Uno, a game apparently played outside of the US as well. I met a nice guide named Yanique who only spoke French. At first it was quite difficult to communicate, but I am getting the hang of speaking in French, so it got better over the next couple days. On Tuesday I hiked Mt. Agou, the tallest Mountain in Togo.
We started by taking taxi motos from Kpalime and up the Mountain, when I realized that we seemed to be going all the way to the peak on a moto, I somehow communicated to my driver to stop and my interest in hiking to the top with Yanique. I thought Yunique said "Doux kilometres" to the top, but it was actually douze, meaning 12. So it was a long walk! Halfway I got really tired because it was all up hill, but I was somehow able to reconcentrate my energy by singing in my head so I was not tired. It was really strange because I don't much believe in the power of focusing energy, but I guess now I do because somehow I hiked other 4 kilometres before taking a break. We reached a village about 2 km from the top that was nestled into the side of the Mountain and had a gorgeous view of most of Southern Togo. After a stair master like trek through the village, I was forced to take a break. Nonetheless, the view from the top was magnificent minus the 1000 CFA I had to pay the gaurd to be allowed entry. On the way back I sang simple songs in French with Yanique like the French version of she's comin' round the mountain.
That afternoon, after a short break we headed to Kpime falls, which was very picturesque. Nonetheless, as we stood by the Falls, the thunder first and then a hard rain came. We gunned it out of the Mountainous area around the falls and took shelter with some nice old men in the Hydroeletric Center. The next day I went to Kloutu, a local village in the Mountains well known for butterfly walks. I arrived at Auberge Du Papillons and shortly afterwards hiked through the forest towards a small waterfall with two Danish girls and our guide. On the way I caught three butterflies myself with the guide's net, which for me was quite exciting.
Yesterday I took a bush taxi to Lome. There are multiple types of bush taxis, the one I took at that point was like a minivan with several extra seats on cushions in the spare space. The one I took today was a regular taxi where they pack 2 people into the front seat and 4 into the back. Now, we complain about the b**** seat in the US, but that's nothing like siting on the gear shift in the front seat. Not knowing what to expect I sat in the front, and was blessed with the most "comfortable" seat on top of the gear shift.
Anyway, so coming to Lome was interesting... At first we were driving around with this one man in a green shirt. We stopped at places all over town picking up passengers. Then we stopped at the gas station and the driver got down, and two men ran into the car and one got in the front, started the car and gunned it off. He was shouting something in Ewe, said something about "No Go Pay" and the other passengers were laughing. Several minutes later he got a call from someone, who I assume was the original driver to which he shouted a string of words in Ewe and hung up. I think the car might have been stolen by a friend of the driver but I have no idea. My friend Kevin who was traveling with me turns to me and says, "As long as we get to Lome I don't really care".
We arrived in Lome fine and so I spent the day exploring the town. I visited the Grand Marche, the beach and then headed to the national museum. The museum was closed because of V day but there was a long line in front of the nearby building so I went to investigate. Apparently, there was a concert going on and from my basic level of French I gathered it was religious. So in response to will you buy a ticket, I told her "why not" and got in line.
I don't think I've ever felt so out of place. There I was surrounded by nicely dressed people in colorful African attire as if going to church. I was the only white person in a line of 1,000 people and I was wearing a dirty white t shirt, shorts, and flip flops with sand still obviously on my legs from the beach. On top of it, I was waiting to enter a Protestant Concert while wearing my Chabad shirt with states clearly on the back "Center for Jewish Life on campus". After a long two hours of waiting in line, I went in and took a seat. At that point it didn't really matter any more because I wasn't the center of attention anymore but was still the only white person in the theater of some 4,000 people. There was a small stage in the front where after about 15 minutes an announcer came up and introduced the group. Subsequently groups of 1 to 3 persons would come on stage and sing a religious song of some sort. People were in the aisles dancing, shaking their hands, eyes closed in prayer-it was quite an interesting but fun experience. I, of course, was dancing as well, much to the amusement of my non-Yovo neighbors. Definitely an interesting experience to say the least.
Today I went to Togoville and the market in Vogan, but nothing particularly interesting to report there besides a nice church and the beginnings of fetish markets, a phenomenon I'll surely explain after visiting Benin.
Next stop Benin starting tommorow in Ouida.
Au Revoir,
Ben
I am sitting in a internet place in Togo, struggling to grasp the French keyboard which has all the letters in different places, so this entry will be shorter than it would be if I had an English keyboard, lol.
First I spent three days in Kpalime, Togo. Kpalime is a naturally beautiful village with dozons of NGOs and therefore a multitude of Yovos, or white people in the local language of Ewe. Within 5 minutes of arriving at my hotel I met two European girls who I met up with later that night to play Uno, a game apparently played outside of the US as well. I met a nice guide named Yanique who only spoke French. At first it was quite difficult to communicate, but I am getting the hang of speaking in French, so it got better over the next couple days. On Tuesday I hiked Mt. Agou, the tallest Mountain in Togo.
We started by taking taxi motos from Kpalime and up the Mountain, when I realized that we seemed to be going all the way to the peak on a moto, I somehow communicated to my driver to stop and my interest in hiking to the top with Yanique. I thought Yunique said "Doux kilometres" to the top, but it was actually douze, meaning 12. So it was a long walk! Halfway I got really tired because it was all up hill, but I was somehow able to reconcentrate my energy by singing in my head so I was not tired. It was really strange because I don't much believe in the power of focusing energy, but I guess now I do because somehow I hiked other 4 kilometres before taking a break. We reached a village about 2 km from the top that was nestled into the side of the Mountain and had a gorgeous view of most of Southern Togo. After a stair master like trek through the village, I was forced to take a break. Nonetheless, the view from the top was magnificent minus the 1000 CFA I had to pay the gaurd to be allowed entry. On the way back I sang simple songs in French with Yanique like the French version of she's comin' round the mountain.
That afternoon, after a short break we headed to Kpime falls, which was very picturesque. Nonetheless, as we stood by the Falls, the thunder first and then a hard rain came. We gunned it out of the Mountainous area around the falls and took shelter with some nice old men in the Hydroeletric Center. The next day I went to Kloutu, a local village in the Mountains well known for butterfly walks. I arrived at Auberge Du Papillons and shortly afterwards hiked through the forest towards a small waterfall with two Danish girls and our guide. On the way I caught three butterflies myself with the guide's net, which for me was quite exciting.
Yesterday I took a bush taxi to Lome. There are multiple types of bush taxis, the one I took at that point was like a minivan with several extra seats on cushions in the spare space. The one I took today was a regular taxi where they pack 2 people into the front seat and 4 into the back. Now, we complain about the b**** seat in the US, but that's nothing like siting on the gear shift in the front seat. Not knowing what to expect I sat in the front, and was blessed with the most "comfortable" seat on top of the gear shift.
Anyway, so coming to Lome was interesting... At first we were driving around with this one man in a green shirt. We stopped at places all over town picking up passengers. Then we stopped at the gas station and the driver got down, and two men ran into the car and one got in the front, started the car and gunned it off. He was shouting something in Ewe, said something about "No Go Pay" and the other passengers were laughing. Several minutes later he got a call from someone, who I assume was the original driver to which he shouted a string of words in Ewe and hung up. I think the car might have been stolen by a friend of the driver but I have no idea. My friend Kevin who was traveling with me turns to me and says, "As long as we get to Lome I don't really care".
We arrived in Lome fine and so I spent the day exploring the town. I visited the Grand Marche, the beach and then headed to the national museum. The museum was closed because of V day but there was a long line in front of the nearby building so I went to investigate. Apparently, there was a concert going on and from my basic level of French I gathered it was religious. So in response to will you buy a ticket, I told her "why not" and got in line.
I don't think I've ever felt so out of place. There I was surrounded by nicely dressed people in colorful African attire as if going to church. I was the only white person in a line of 1,000 people and I was wearing a dirty white t shirt, shorts, and flip flops with sand still obviously on my legs from the beach. On top of it, I was waiting to enter a Protestant Concert while wearing my Chabad shirt with states clearly on the back "Center for Jewish Life on campus". After a long two hours of waiting in line, I went in and took a seat. At that point it didn't really matter any more because I wasn't the center of attention anymore but was still the only white person in the theater of some 4,000 people. There was a small stage in the front where after about 15 minutes an announcer came up and introduced the group. Subsequently groups of 1 to 3 persons would come on stage and sing a religious song of some sort. People were in the aisles dancing, shaking their hands, eyes closed in prayer-it was quite an interesting but fun experience. I, of course, was dancing as well, much to the amusement of my non-Yovo neighbors. Definitely an interesting experience to say the least.
Today I went to Togoville and the market in Vogan, but nothing particularly interesting to report there besides a nice church and the beginnings of fetish markets, a phenomenon I'll surely explain after visiting Benin.
Next stop Benin starting tommorow in Ouida.
Au Revoir,
Ben
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Travel Itinerary
Dearest friends,
I will be backpacking around West Africa for the next two months and returning to the US on July 13th. Here is the itinerary for me trip!
Sunday May 17th: Depart Accra for Ho, overnight in Ho
Monday May 18th: Depart Ho for Kpalime
May 18-21 Kpalime, Togo, 3 nights
• May 19-Hike Mt. Aguo (20km S.E.)
• May 20-Day trip to Kloutu to have butterfly tour
-Return to Grand Marche to shop
• May 21- Kpime Falls, no need for guide
• May 22-Travel to Lome
May 22-24 Lome, Togo, 3 nights
• May 22- Friday market at Vogon
• May 23- Musee National, bike around Lome
• May 24- Day trip to Agbodrafo for water sports and Togoville (center of Voodoo)
• May 25- Leave for Cotonou
May 25- 27 Cotonou, Benin, 3 nights
• May 25- Grand Marche, get situated
• May 26- Day trip to Ganvie for Lake Nokoue stilt village
• May 27- Day trip to Ouidah for Route Des Esclaves, Sacred Forest
• May 28- Depart for Abomey (3 hours)
May 28-29 Abomey, Benin, 2 nights
• May 28- Musee Hitorique d’Abomey, get situated
• May 29- Day trip for Dahomey Trail, Ask at Hotel La Lutta
• May 30- Depart for Natitingou
May 30 Natitingou, Benin, 1 night
• May 30- Day trip to Boukoumbe, capital Samba country, buy smoking pipe
• May 31- Depart for Kandi
May 31-June 1 Kandi, Benin, 2 nights
• June 1- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 2- Depart for Malanville (wait bus to Niamey) or Gaya, Niger for taxis
June 2-6 Niamey, Niger, 3 nights
• June 2- Arrive and check-in
• June 3- Day trip to Boubon for Wednesday Market
• June 4- Muse National du Niger, Grande Mosque, Priogue ride at sunset
• June 5- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 6- Depart for Zinder (9-12 hours)
June 6-8 Zinder, Niger, 3 nights
• June 6- Arrive and relax
• June 7- Birni Quarter, Palais Du Sultan tour, Zengou Quarter
• June 8- Grande Marche, Cooperative du Village Artisanal
• June 9- Return to Niamey
June 10 Niamey, Niger, 1 night
• June 10- arrive and rest
• June 11- Depart for Gao, Mali to Mopti
June 11 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 11- arrive and relax
• June 12,13- Prepare Niger boat ride
June 14-16 Niger Boat Ride, Mali
• June 14- Depart Mopti
• June 16- Arrive Timbuktu
June 16-19 Timbuktu, Mali, 4 nights, 3 in hotel
• June 16- arrive and relax
• June 17- Dyingerey Ber Mosque, Ethnological Museum, Grand Marche
• June 18-19- Overnight trip by camel into desert
• June 20- Depart for Mopti, full day, 12,500 CFA
June 20-21 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 20- arrive and relax
• June 21- Prepare Dogon Country Trek
June 22-25 Dogon Country, Mali
• June 22- Nombori
• June 23- Ireli
• June 24- Tireli
• June 25- Up to Sanga
June 25 Mopti, Mali, 1 night
• June 25- Arrive and relax
• June 26- Depart for Ouga
June 26-27 Ouaga, Burkina Faso, 2 nights
• June 26- Arrive and relax; check out night life
• June 27- Musee De la Musique, Centre Culturel Francais concert
• June 28- Depart Bobo
June 28-30 Bobo, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• June 28-Arrive Bobo, Grand Marche, Grand Mosque, Kidibwe
• June 29- Hire moped for day,
• June 30- Day trip to Koro or Mare aux Poissons Sacres
• July 1- Travel to Banfora
June 30- July 3 Banfora, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• July 1- Arrive Banfora, Tengrela Lake
• July 2- Day trip to Karfiguela & Domes
• July 3- Day trip to Sindou Peaks
• July 4- Depart for Hamale from Banfora (4 hours) or Bobo to Wa
July 4 Wa, Ghana, 1 night (expensive, avoid if possible)
• July 4- Arrive Wa, explore Sahelian architecture
• July 5- Depart for Larabanga
July 5 Larabanga, Ghana, 1 night
• July 5- Arrive Larabanga, tour of Mosque
• July 6- 7am Safari in Mole
• July 7- 4am bus to Tamale to Makongo, ferry to Yeji
July 8-10 Ferry Boat Ride to Akosombo, Ghana
• Depart Yeji Wednesday at 4pm, check time
• Arrive Akosombo, Friday July 10
July 10-13 Homestay, or leeway time
• Arrive and relax
July 13 Flight to United States!
July 14-18 New York City, 3 nights
I'll do my best to keep you all updated on my travels by the blog but I will probably have less internet access than I have in Ghana. Miss you all and I can't wait to share my experiences with you when I get back!
All the best,
Ben
I will be backpacking around West Africa for the next two months and returning to the US on July 13th. Here is the itinerary for me trip!
Sunday May 17th: Depart Accra for Ho, overnight in Ho
Monday May 18th: Depart Ho for Kpalime
May 18-21 Kpalime, Togo, 3 nights
• May 19-Hike Mt. Aguo (20km S.E.)
• May 20-Day trip to Kloutu to have butterfly tour
-Return to Grand Marche to shop
• May 21- Kpime Falls, no need for guide
• May 22-Travel to Lome
May 22-24 Lome, Togo, 3 nights
• May 22- Friday market at Vogon
• May 23- Musee National, bike around Lome
• May 24- Day trip to Agbodrafo for water sports and Togoville (center of Voodoo)
• May 25- Leave for Cotonou
May 25- 27 Cotonou, Benin, 3 nights
• May 25- Grand Marche, get situated
• May 26- Day trip to Ganvie for Lake Nokoue stilt village
• May 27- Day trip to Ouidah for Route Des Esclaves, Sacred Forest
• May 28- Depart for Abomey (3 hours)
May 28-29 Abomey, Benin, 2 nights
• May 28- Musee Hitorique d’Abomey, get situated
• May 29- Day trip for Dahomey Trail, Ask at Hotel La Lutta
• May 30- Depart for Natitingou
May 30 Natitingou, Benin, 1 night
• May 30- Day trip to Boukoumbe, capital Samba country, buy smoking pipe
• May 31- Depart for Kandi
May 31-June 1 Kandi, Benin, 2 nights
• June 1- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 2- Depart for Malanville (wait bus to Niamey) or Gaya, Niger for taxis
June 2-6 Niamey, Niger, 3 nights
• June 2- Arrive and check-in
• June 3- Day trip to Boubon for Wednesday Market
• June 4- Muse National du Niger, Grande Mosque, Priogue ride at sunset
• June 5- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 6- Depart for Zinder (9-12 hours)
June 6-8 Zinder, Niger, 3 nights
• June 6- Arrive and relax
• June 7- Birni Quarter, Palais Du Sultan tour, Zengou Quarter
• June 8- Grande Marche, Cooperative du Village Artisanal
• June 9- Return to Niamey
June 10 Niamey, Niger, 1 night
• June 10- arrive and rest
• June 11- Depart for Gao, Mali to Mopti
June 11 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 11- arrive and relax
• June 12,13- Prepare Niger boat ride
June 14-16 Niger Boat Ride, Mali
• June 14- Depart Mopti
• June 16- Arrive Timbuktu
June 16-19 Timbuktu, Mali, 4 nights, 3 in hotel
• June 16- arrive and relax
• June 17- Dyingerey Ber Mosque, Ethnological Museum, Grand Marche
• June 18-19- Overnight trip by camel into desert
• June 20- Depart for Mopti, full day, 12,500 CFA
June 20-21 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 20- arrive and relax
• June 21- Prepare Dogon Country Trek
June 22-25 Dogon Country, Mali
• June 22- Nombori
• June 23- Ireli
• June 24- Tireli
• June 25- Up to Sanga
June 25 Mopti, Mali, 1 night
• June 25- Arrive and relax
• June 26- Depart for Ouga
June 26-27 Ouaga, Burkina Faso, 2 nights
• June 26- Arrive and relax; check out night life
• June 27- Musee De la Musique, Centre Culturel Francais concert
• June 28- Depart Bobo
June 28-30 Bobo, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• June 28-Arrive Bobo, Grand Marche, Grand Mosque, Kidibwe
• June 29- Hire moped for day,
• June 30- Day trip to Koro or Mare aux Poissons Sacres
• July 1- Travel to Banfora
June 30- July 3 Banfora, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• July 1- Arrive Banfora, Tengrela Lake
• July 2- Day trip to Karfiguela & Domes
• July 3- Day trip to Sindou Peaks
• July 4- Depart for Hamale from Banfora (4 hours) or Bobo to Wa
July 4 Wa, Ghana, 1 night (expensive, avoid if possible)
• July 4- Arrive Wa, explore Sahelian architecture
• July 5- Depart for Larabanga
July 5 Larabanga, Ghana, 1 night
• July 5- Arrive Larabanga, tour of Mosque
• July 6- 7am Safari in Mole
• July 7- 4am bus to Tamale to Makongo, ferry to Yeji
July 8-10 Ferry Boat Ride to Akosombo, Ghana
• Depart Yeji Wednesday at 4pm, check time
• Arrive Akosombo, Friday July 10
July 10-13 Homestay, or leeway time
• Arrive and relax
July 13 Flight to United States!
July 14-18 New York City, 3 nights
I'll do my best to keep you all updated on my travels by the blog but I will probably have less internet access than I have in Ghana. Miss you all and I can't wait to share my experiences with you when I get back!
All the best,
Ben
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Lost Jewish Tribe in Ghana
Dearest friends,
This past weekend was a particularly interesting experience. For several months, I had heard obscure references to this Jewish community in Ghana. I was very surprised to hear about this given the outwardly Christian orientation of Ghana, and didn't know how a Jewish community could exist or thrive here. A friend of mine, Sagie and I ventured this weekend to a Jewish community in New Adiembra a community in the middle of no where, hours from the major city of Kumasi.
As we found out, this small community of New Adiembra had for centuries not worked on Saturday (Shabbat). Hundreds of years ago the chief would fine those who worked or exchanged money on Saturday. In 1977, a local pastor recieved a vision while staring at a wall that he should "Find the lost Jewish tribe in Ghana". He began preaching Jewish scripture to villages all over, and eventually found this town of New Adiembra that seemed to be living Jewish scripture but was predominately Christian. As he started sharing Jewish scripture, it became increasingly attractive to the members of this community who viewed it as making sense of their traditions and history. Now there is a synagogue, the only in Ghana, with about 50-90 members.
We arrived at the community at around 6:30 on Friday afternoon after traveling the entire day. We asked around for Joseph Armah, and immediately were taken to this large compound and walked right to a guest room. On the TV in the guest room was a Havdallah candle, candle sticks, a stuffed Torah, and a spices container. On the window was a small banner reading "Only One God". It was at that point that I knew we had reached a special community. Our host, Joseph had gone to a funeral that day and was ritually unclean and therefore didn't light the Shabbat candles. Nonetheless, we sat around after dinner and discussed the challenges of being Jewish in Ghana. Up until just 8 years ago, members of the synagogue were bothered by community members saying, "You don't believe in Jesus?". However, now the Jewish community is growing and doesn't face as much resistance from the surrounding community.
Saturday morning, we awoke and went to Shul. This was a phrase that I never imagined I'd say in Ghana. After riding on the bus to Kumasi and having a loud preacher lecture for about an hour, I never thought that I would find a Jewish community. We walked through the town to a small blue and white cement building. Inside we found 10 pews, 5 on each side with a table in the front with three chairs. Behind the table were three bookcases, the first with Torahs and Siddurim and the second and third with Jewish childrens and adult books. I found my Hebrew School learning hebrew book from 3rd grade! There were about 10 children and 2 adults present, the children were sitting reading the books to each other and the adults were chatting. We greeted the men sitting at the table in the front who said to us, "Shabbat Shalom". I noticed the room was divided with men on one side and women on the other separated by an aisle for walking, so we sat on the right side. I was amazed by the number of children present, it was about 80% children, directly contrasting with the elderly direction of my congregation at home.
The service began and the room filled up to it's capacity with about 50 people present. We read through most of the prayers in English starting with Ma Tovu all the way through the Torah service. The most powerful part was the only part that was in Hebrew and the only part that was sung: Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. At that point I was blown away by the entire experience. We had listened to English speaking and even prayers adopted into Twi songs, but this was the first words of Hebrew we heard. I couldn't believe that I was at a service of Jews in Ghana! As the leaders read the Torah, they read the verses of Parshat Emor in English, translated them into Twi and explained them as they went. Each verse was made applicable to the population and then the leaders turned to me and Sagie and asked, "Is America do the Cohens observe all this about not defiling themselves?" and other questions about the application of the readings in America. We answered to the best we could and the leader would translate for us. We explained the Mikvah as a source of purification and how the most religious, Orthodox Jews, may observe many of these customs but I as a Conservative Jew do not. In addition, we explained how the mourning process works after a death for Jews in America. As we learned, this community doesn't know whether they are Cohen, Levi, or Israelite. Nonetheless, they made an effort to apply the portion to their lives even though portion explains the laws for each of these groups. Throughout the service there were Twi songs, people got up and clapped, and the children were involved and participatory.
We were planning to leave on Saturday afternoon. When the leader asked us during the service how long we planned to stay he commented, "This community has not granted you permission to leave as we do not travel on Shabbat". It was quite surprising, but we adopted our schedules to stay for the rest of the day and leave the following morning. The rest of the day we spent touring around the village, reading Mishnah with the leader, and talking with the training Rabbi. Alex joined the congregation in 1990 as he saw in a dream that he should support the Jewish people. He used to be a pastor but began to study Judaism and is now training in Uganda to be a Rabbi. He told us that he spends about 90% of his time on the Jewish community through teaching members Hebrew, leading classes on Saturday afternoon, and being there to support community members. After his 4 year program to train as a Rabbi, Alex is going to work on researching the history of this community and continuing to build it.
One of the girls that had been guiding us around and who had been obsessed with Sagie's camera told us to stop and "Video". At which point we turned on the video and she started singing the Aleph-Bet song and other Jewish songs in Hebrew. It was quite funny, because this could have been a Hebrew school kid in the US but it wasn't it was a small Jewish community in the middle of Ghana surrounded by very Christian influences.
Overall it really got me thinking. For a while I've thought that I was Jewish by culture and by tradition, but didn't necessarily study the laws or know the scripture. I didn't think Judaism was more inherently right than other religions. But now I think that there is something right about Judaism. It was something strong enough to push members of a very Christian country to become a struggling Jewish community in the middle of Ghana. This community existed stripped of what I thought was essential for Judaism. Even in an area where it's not possible to buy Kosher foods at the store, it's not yet prevalent to have Bar Mitzvah's, and there's no parents that have raised you Jewish. Nonetheless, this community saw the value of what was written in the scripture and the power of living Jewishly. They have adopted the laws to themselves and keep Kosher even to the extent of slaughtering the animals properly. This was a pure form of Judaism that had to battle against Christian dominance, where everyone involved chose to be involved because they viewed it as right, where the text mattered just as much as living the Jewish culture. I've always seen myself as a cultural Jew and didn't think that there much more of a sensible way to live for me. But now, I feel that there is so much to be gained from studying Jewish scripture and knowing the text. I guess there's more to Judaism for me now than being a cultural Jew.
Best,
Ben
This past weekend was a particularly interesting experience. For several months, I had heard obscure references to this Jewish community in Ghana. I was very surprised to hear about this given the outwardly Christian orientation of Ghana, and didn't know how a Jewish community could exist or thrive here. A friend of mine, Sagie and I ventured this weekend to a Jewish community in New Adiembra a community in the middle of no where, hours from the major city of Kumasi.
As we found out, this small community of New Adiembra had for centuries not worked on Saturday (Shabbat). Hundreds of years ago the chief would fine those who worked or exchanged money on Saturday. In 1977, a local pastor recieved a vision while staring at a wall that he should "Find the lost Jewish tribe in Ghana". He began preaching Jewish scripture to villages all over, and eventually found this town of New Adiembra that seemed to be living Jewish scripture but was predominately Christian. As he started sharing Jewish scripture, it became increasingly attractive to the members of this community who viewed it as making sense of their traditions and history. Now there is a synagogue, the only in Ghana, with about 50-90 members.
We arrived at the community at around 6:30 on Friday afternoon after traveling the entire day. We asked around for Joseph Armah, and immediately were taken to this large compound and walked right to a guest room. On the TV in the guest room was a Havdallah candle, candle sticks, a stuffed Torah, and a spices container. On the window was a small banner reading "Only One God". It was at that point that I knew we had reached a special community. Our host, Joseph had gone to a funeral that day and was ritually unclean and therefore didn't light the Shabbat candles. Nonetheless, we sat around after dinner and discussed the challenges of being Jewish in Ghana. Up until just 8 years ago, members of the synagogue were bothered by community members saying, "You don't believe in Jesus?". However, now the Jewish community is growing and doesn't face as much resistance from the surrounding community.
Saturday morning, we awoke and went to Shul. This was a phrase that I never imagined I'd say in Ghana. After riding on the bus to Kumasi and having a loud preacher lecture for about an hour, I never thought that I would find a Jewish community. We walked through the town to a small blue and white cement building. Inside we found 10 pews, 5 on each side with a table in the front with three chairs. Behind the table were three bookcases, the first with Torahs and Siddurim and the second and third with Jewish childrens and adult books. I found my Hebrew School learning hebrew book from 3rd grade! There were about 10 children and 2 adults present, the children were sitting reading the books to each other and the adults were chatting. We greeted the men sitting at the table in the front who said to us, "Shabbat Shalom". I noticed the room was divided with men on one side and women on the other separated by an aisle for walking, so we sat on the right side. I was amazed by the number of children present, it was about 80% children, directly contrasting with the elderly direction of my congregation at home.
The service began and the room filled up to it's capacity with about 50 people present. We read through most of the prayers in English starting with Ma Tovu all the way through the Torah service. The most powerful part was the only part that was in Hebrew and the only part that was sung: Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. At that point I was blown away by the entire experience. We had listened to English speaking and even prayers adopted into Twi songs, but this was the first words of Hebrew we heard. I couldn't believe that I was at a service of Jews in Ghana! As the leaders read the Torah, they read the verses of Parshat Emor in English, translated them into Twi and explained them as they went. Each verse was made applicable to the population and then the leaders turned to me and Sagie and asked, "Is America do the Cohens observe all this about not defiling themselves?" and other questions about the application of the readings in America. We answered to the best we could and the leader would translate for us. We explained the Mikvah as a source of purification and how the most religious, Orthodox Jews, may observe many of these customs but I as a Conservative Jew do not. In addition, we explained how the mourning process works after a death for Jews in America. As we learned, this community doesn't know whether they are Cohen, Levi, or Israelite. Nonetheless, they made an effort to apply the portion to their lives even though portion explains the laws for each of these groups. Throughout the service there were Twi songs, people got up and clapped, and the children were involved and participatory.
We were planning to leave on Saturday afternoon. When the leader asked us during the service how long we planned to stay he commented, "This community has not granted you permission to leave as we do not travel on Shabbat". It was quite surprising, but we adopted our schedules to stay for the rest of the day and leave the following morning. The rest of the day we spent touring around the village, reading Mishnah with the leader, and talking with the training Rabbi. Alex joined the congregation in 1990 as he saw in a dream that he should support the Jewish people. He used to be a pastor but began to study Judaism and is now training in Uganda to be a Rabbi. He told us that he spends about 90% of his time on the Jewish community through teaching members Hebrew, leading classes on Saturday afternoon, and being there to support community members. After his 4 year program to train as a Rabbi, Alex is going to work on researching the history of this community and continuing to build it.
One of the girls that had been guiding us around and who had been obsessed with Sagie's camera told us to stop and "Video". At which point we turned on the video and she started singing the Aleph-Bet song and other Jewish songs in Hebrew. It was quite funny, because this could have been a Hebrew school kid in the US but it wasn't it was a small Jewish community in the middle of Ghana surrounded by very Christian influences.
Overall it really got me thinking. For a while I've thought that I was Jewish by culture and by tradition, but didn't necessarily study the laws or know the scripture. I didn't think Judaism was more inherently right than other religions. But now I think that there is something right about Judaism. It was something strong enough to push members of a very Christian country to become a struggling Jewish community in the middle of Ghana. This community existed stripped of what I thought was essential for Judaism. Even in an area where it's not possible to buy Kosher foods at the store, it's not yet prevalent to have Bar Mitzvah's, and there's no parents that have raised you Jewish. Nonetheless, this community saw the value of what was written in the scripture and the power of living Jewishly. They have adopted the laws to themselves and keep Kosher even to the extent of slaughtering the animals properly. This was a pure form of Judaism that had to battle against Christian dominance, where everyone involved chose to be involved because they viewed it as right, where the text mattered just as much as living the Jewish culture. I've always seen myself as a cultural Jew and didn't think that there much more of a sensible way to live for me. But now, I feel that there is so much to be gained from studying Jewish scripture and knowing the text. I guess there's more to Judaism for me now than being a cultural Jew.
Best,
Ben
Monday, May 4, 2009
A Deer Hunting We Will Go
Dearest friends,
The following entry tells the story of my experience with the Deer Hunting Festival, Aboakyer, this past weekend. The deer hunting festival is one of Ghana’s most famous and brings people from all over Ghana as well as all over the world.
This morning I was thankful that the taxi was waiting at America House for me, making my favorite sound “Legon 1, Legon 1” meaning that as soon as I sat down the shared taxi would set off to campus. I stared out the window of the car imagining what this festival was going to be like, perhaps we’d get to help hunt the deer or maybe I’d get to witness native dances and songs. Considering that I had been waiting since the beginning of the semester for a festival, I couldn’t wait to get to Winneba.
I met up with Dana on campus and we headed down to Kaneshi Station to catch a tro-tro to Winneba. We arrived at the last stop to see a line of tro-tros along the road as well as a large dirt patch off the road filled with at least a hundred tro-tros going to different places. “OK, now the fun part of finding the Winneba tro begins,” I told myself. Dana and I walked along the road asking, “Winneba, Eye Hen” (Winneba, it is where?). Every person just pointed us to walk farther along the road, urging us to go to front. Eventually we reached the tro-tro in the front, which would drop us at Winneba junction, but it was empty. Anticipating that we might get a more full tro-tro inside the station, we ventured into the station itself. Walking among piles of refuse and over overflowing gutters, we got to the dirt patch that characterized tro-tro stations. Again we asked “Winneba, Eye Hen” and we were directed to a man under a tent that told us that the Winneba car was not yet here. So we walked back to the roadside and sat down in the now filling tro-tro headed to Winneba junction.
After about an hour, the mate shouts out Winneba junction and Dana and I alight. By the roadside are several shared taxis that will take us to Winneba for 40 pesuasas, says the Bradt guide. Spotting a taxi, we sat down and headed towards Winneba. Driving into the city we saw banner after banner with Aboakyer Festival in large letters, some with a deer and men hunting in the background. Loud music was blasting from every corner, and all the restaurants and hotels were festivally dressed with banners and streamers. Unfortunately, neither Dana nor I had brought the Bradt guide with us so I had written down some names of hotels and numbers. We asked the taxi to drop us near Sir Charles a very large hotel that we hoped would have space. We alighted at a junction and walked towards Sir Charles. A pleasant run-down hotel right on the beach, but unfortunately no one was at the reception to greet us or tell us if there was a room. There’s tons of other places, we told ourselves. Walking down to the Lagoon Lodge, a nice hotel the Bradt guide described as essentially “Budget, but beautiful”, we came across this very fancy hotel by the side of the lagoon that costed 30 cedis per night, well out of our range. Walking back towards Sir Charles, we wanted to check again at the reception. This time we met someone who told us, sorry it’s full. Walking along the roadside we began to get concerned as every hostel we stopped at was booked for the night. Frustrated and hot, we stopped at Halo Halo Drinking Spot to get some water and ran into a wonderful lady. She didn’t know a place for us to go but she hailed down a friend of hers that was a taxi driver and asked him to take us to a hotel of a friend of hers for one cedi. We stopped at that hotel, but it was also full. What then occurred was driving to every hotel, hostel, and motel in the area only to find they were full. We even pulled into one hotel that was half-completed. The whole front of the hotel was still under construction but there were a few rooms in the back that were finished, even this hotel was booked. Out of frustration we called back Lagoon Lodge, but even this was full. Crap!
Seeing our frustration the taxi driver noted that he knew the owner of Royal Beach and that it would probably be fine for us to sleep there. At that point sleeping on the beach sounded like a great option to ending this stupid hopeless chase. We arrived at Royal Beach and paid our three cedis at the gate to gain entrance. We were greeted by a dancing party of at least 20 men next to the bar. One interesting thing about this country is that a group of 20 dancing men is not strange to see, even if they seem to be almost grinding, it’s nothing sexual. Regardless, we grabbed ourselves a beer a sat on the beach, “At least we have somewhere to sleep”. We drank our beer and ventured into the ocean. This beach was aweful! Filled with trash and rocky on the bottom. We ventured cautiously over sharp rocks and occasionally were hit by either a diaper or a floating bra. Dana spotted a strange bungalow in the distance and we set out to go check it out. We crossed a lagoon and walked along the beach to this structure. We found a half completed structure with no walls and only the bottoms of the toilets. The left side was missing half the floor, but at least there was a roof. We looked at each other and decided, “It’s better than the beach itself”. This abandoned bungalow would be our home for the night.
Wanting to get setup before dark, we trekked back to where we had left our bags with two nice old men. Thankfully the bags were still there, so we grabbed them and they asked us, “Have you found a place to sleep?” And we responded, yes we have. Not wanting them to know where we were actually sleeping, we headed walked behind them towards the structure. In order to reach the bungalow we’d have to cross the lagoon with our bags. Putting them on top of our heads, we ventured into the chest deep lagoon, much to the amusement and confusion of the Ghanaian family on the shore. We trekked back across the beach and set up camp in our home for the night. We took our valuables out and buried them underground in plastic bags in the fear that armed robbers might come by at night. As it got dark, we set up pillows our of towels for ourselves and talked until we fell asleep. Barely an hour later, it started raining and only half of the bungalow had a roof that could sustain the rain. Dana woke up in a wet blanket, so we moved to the otherside of the bungalow and slept uncomfortably on the wooden floor.
The alarm went off, “Thank God”, I told myself. I had been rolling all night trying to stay comfortable on the hard wood floors. It was 5am and it was time to head to the actual festival which was starting at 6am. We awoke by moon light and crossed the cold lagoon with our bags. Changing by the bushes, we were ready to tackle the day, but really had no idea what was to come.
We walked out of the beach and followed the large group of people headed toward the center of town. Passing by goats along the way and a large pile of trash with both people and a cadre of pigs looking for valuables. Arriving in town, the streets were lined with people as if waiting for a parade. Suddenly, a group of 10 men marched by chanting, banging drums, and waving planks of wood and sticks. Another group marched by with their entire bodies painted in red. Another group of blue and white men and women walked by as the women in front held wooden swords and the men behind yellow planks and wooden deer antlers. This was the parade of people heading to the bush. Asking where to go, a small girl joined up with us to show us around. It seemed that most of the people were heading one direction so we decided to follow. Through the crowds lining the streets we walked through the town with the parading hunters. We asked our friend where they were going and she said to the Bush, so we decided we wanted to go to. We walked among a large group of individuals wearing red towards the mountains. This was the red team. For the Deer Hunting Festival there is a red group and a white group and every individual in the down is in one of the two groups based on family descent. We were following the hunters and members of the red group in pursuit of a Mountain way in the distance. Both the red group and white group send hunters into different parts of the bush to catch a live antelope. The first group to return with two live antelopes to the chief is pronounced the winner.
Most of the group stopped beside a large lake, that only a few were crossing. “Only men can go into the Bush, “ our friend told us. Wanting to get pictures and see the actual hunting, Dana and I agreed that I should still go. I gave her my backpack and all my valuables and ventured through the lake. At times it became deep and the mud below made you sink an additional two feet. Nearly falling several times, I leaned on the man next to me for support. Reaching the other side I realized that I had also left my sandals with Dana. Nonetheless, I walked with a group of men wearing red that were heading to the Bush. Walking over sea shells and mud without shoes was not comfortable, but I was excited as we inched closer and closer to the Bush. Suddenly, within a hundred yards of the bush I heard the loud beating of drums and whistling as a parade of over 400 people emerged from the woods. In the front was a man with a live antelope held in both of his hands. I stood to take pictures and was pulled into the excited mob. Marching and shouting with the other hunters, I was frequently smiled at and encouraged. “You are a real man,” some said, “Not many Obrunis come all the way to the bush” said others. Some took a more physical encouragement and took the red paint from their sweaty faces and wiped it on mine. By the time we came to the large lake again I was covered in red paint and sweating like crazy! Those on the other shore line saw we were arriving with the antelope and excited ran to the bank to meet us, realizing that we must hurry to meet the chief before the white group we ran the entire way through the lake and all the way back to the town. I broke off from the group trying to find Dana in this mob of over 2,500 people chanting and running. She wasn’t where I had left here and she unfortunately had my phone.
A friend I had made in the mob and I went around asking where the Obruni with red hair was. Most said she had left with the crowd. We ran from the very back of the line through marchers who laughed as they saw I was covered in paint from the Bush. As I stood on top of a large hill, I spotted her and sprinted towards her. The rest of the march back to the village we made together.
As we returned to the town of Winneba we paraded through the streets with the proudly held antelope in the front. It was an incredible feeling. Being pushed forward by this huge mob of excited dancing people that were chanting in Fante. I caught on with a couple of the chants and yelled as well. We marched through town as a mob for at least 30 minutes before we reached the Queen Mother’s house and then the chiefs house. As we marched toward the chief’s house, the chants became less powerful so I started loudly shouting the last chant “Yanim Soldja”. Hearing that an Obruni was chanting, people began responding “Kwasi Bruni” and the chant continued. As I continued the same chant I got closer and closer to the front until I was shouting the the entire procession and those in the front who could hear were responding.
All the kids in the crowd found this amusing, and ran up to the front to shout “Kwasi Bruni” when I shouted “Yanim Soldja”. As I continued chanting the group of kids grew to about 50 and we marched through the streets ahead of the group chanting on our own. The people along the streets seeing an Obruni leading kids and chanting were laughing and cheering me on. As we continued in the direction of the chief’s house and the ceremony for the Antelope/Deer, I was stopped by a TV station and a microphone was stuck in my face. “How are you enjoying the festival…What do you think of Ghana…How long have you been here…” I did my best to respond as I was sweating and was loosing my voice from shouting all morning.
After about half an hour of shouting at the top of my lungs leading these kids I was tired. My voice was gone, I had been running barefoot through the town for about 2 hours over rocky streets, and I was drenched with sweat. I waited for my wife (Dana)-she was my wife for the day just for simplicity and so I wouldn’t get so many marriage proposals and neither would she. When Dana arrived we sat, ate, and just relaxed to recover from what was an extremely crazy morning.
Best,
Ben
The following entry tells the story of my experience with the Deer Hunting Festival, Aboakyer, this past weekend. The deer hunting festival is one of Ghana’s most famous and brings people from all over Ghana as well as all over the world.
This morning I was thankful that the taxi was waiting at America House for me, making my favorite sound “Legon 1, Legon 1” meaning that as soon as I sat down the shared taxi would set off to campus. I stared out the window of the car imagining what this festival was going to be like, perhaps we’d get to help hunt the deer or maybe I’d get to witness native dances and songs. Considering that I had been waiting since the beginning of the semester for a festival, I couldn’t wait to get to Winneba.
I met up with Dana on campus and we headed down to Kaneshi Station to catch a tro-tro to Winneba. We arrived at the last stop to see a line of tro-tros along the road as well as a large dirt patch off the road filled with at least a hundred tro-tros going to different places. “OK, now the fun part of finding the Winneba tro begins,” I told myself. Dana and I walked along the road asking, “Winneba, Eye Hen” (Winneba, it is where?). Every person just pointed us to walk farther along the road, urging us to go to front. Eventually we reached the tro-tro in the front, which would drop us at Winneba junction, but it was empty. Anticipating that we might get a more full tro-tro inside the station, we ventured into the station itself. Walking among piles of refuse and over overflowing gutters, we got to the dirt patch that characterized tro-tro stations. Again we asked “Winneba, Eye Hen” and we were directed to a man under a tent that told us that the Winneba car was not yet here. So we walked back to the roadside and sat down in the now filling tro-tro headed to Winneba junction.
After about an hour, the mate shouts out Winneba junction and Dana and I alight. By the roadside are several shared taxis that will take us to Winneba for 40 pesuasas, says the Bradt guide. Spotting a taxi, we sat down and headed towards Winneba. Driving into the city we saw banner after banner with Aboakyer Festival in large letters, some with a deer and men hunting in the background. Loud music was blasting from every corner, and all the restaurants and hotels were festivally dressed with banners and streamers. Unfortunately, neither Dana nor I had brought the Bradt guide with us so I had written down some names of hotels and numbers. We asked the taxi to drop us near Sir Charles a very large hotel that we hoped would have space. We alighted at a junction and walked towards Sir Charles. A pleasant run-down hotel right on the beach, but unfortunately no one was at the reception to greet us or tell us if there was a room. There’s tons of other places, we told ourselves. Walking down to the Lagoon Lodge, a nice hotel the Bradt guide described as essentially “Budget, but beautiful”, we came across this very fancy hotel by the side of the lagoon that costed 30 cedis per night, well out of our range. Walking back towards Sir Charles, we wanted to check again at the reception. This time we met someone who told us, sorry it’s full. Walking along the roadside we began to get concerned as every hostel we stopped at was booked for the night. Frustrated and hot, we stopped at Halo Halo Drinking Spot to get some water and ran into a wonderful lady. She didn’t know a place for us to go but she hailed down a friend of hers that was a taxi driver and asked him to take us to a hotel of a friend of hers for one cedi. We stopped at that hotel, but it was also full. What then occurred was driving to every hotel, hostel, and motel in the area only to find they were full. We even pulled into one hotel that was half-completed. The whole front of the hotel was still under construction but there were a few rooms in the back that were finished, even this hotel was booked. Out of frustration we called back Lagoon Lodge, but even this was full. Crap!
Seeing our frustration the taxi driver noted that he knew the owner of Royal Beach and that it would probably be fine for us to sleep there. At that point sleeping on the beach sounded like a great option to ending this stupid hopeless chase. We arrived at Royal Beach and paid our three cedis at the gate to gain entrance. We were greeted by a dancing party of at least 20 men next to the bar. One interesting thing about this country is that a group of 20 dancing men is not strange to see, even if they seem to be almost grinding, it’s nothing sexual. Regardless, we grabbed ourselves a beer a sat on the beach, “At least we have somewhere to sleep”. We drank our beer and ventured into the ocean. This beach was aweful! Filled with trash and rocky on the bottom. We ventured cautiously over sharp rocks and occasionally were hit by either a diaper or a floating bra. Dana spotted a strange bungalow in the distance and we set out to go check it out. We crossed a lagoon and walked along the beach to this structure. We found a half completed structure with no walls and only the bottoms of the toilets. The left side was missing half the floor, but at least there was a roof. We looked at each other and decided, “It’s better than the beach itself”. This abandoned bungalow would be our home for the night.
Wanting to get setup before dark, we trekked back to where we had left our bags with two nice old men. Thankfully the bags were still there, so we grabbed them and they asked us, “Have you found a place to sleep?” And we responded, yes we have. Not wanting them to know where we were actually sleeping, we headed walked behind them towards the structure. In order to reach the bungalow we’d have to cross the lagoon with our bags. Putting them on top of our heads, we ventured into the chest deep lagoon, much to the amusement and confusion of the Ghanaian family on the shore. We trekked back across the beach and set up camp in our home for the night. We took our valuables out and buried them underground in plastic bags in the fear that armed robbers might come by at night. As it got dark, we set up pillows our of towels for ourselves and talked until we fell asleep. Barely an hour later, it started raining and only half of the bungalow had a roof that could sustain the rain. Dana woke up in a wet blanket, so we moved to the otherside of the bungalow and slept uncomfortably on the wooden floor.
The alarm went off, “Thank God”, I told myself. I had been rolling all night trying to stay comfortable on the hard wood floors. It was 5am and it was time to head to the actual festival which was starting at 6am. We awoke by moon light and crossed the cold lagoon with our bags. Changing by the bushes, we were ready to tackle the day, but really had no idea what was to come.
We walked out of the beach and followed the large group of people headed toward the center of town. Passing by goats along the way and a large pile of trash with both people and a cadre of pigs looking for valuables. Arriving in town, the streets were lined with people as if waiting for a parade. Suddenly, a group of 10 men marched by chanting, banging drums, and waving planks of wood and sticks. Another group marched by with their entire bodies painted in red. Another group of blue and white men and women walked by as the women in front held wooden swords and the men behind yellow planks and wooden deer antlers. This was the parade of people heading to the bush. Asking where to go, a small girl joined up with us to show us around. It seemed that most of the people were heading one direction so we decided to follow. Through the crowds lining the streets we walked through the town with the parading hunters. We asked our friend where they were going and she said to the Bush, so we decided we wanted to go to. We walked among a large group of individuals wearing red towards the mountains. This was the red team. For the Deer Hunting Festival there is a red group and a white group and every individual in the down is in one of the two groups based on family descent. We were following the hunters and members of the red group in pursuit of a Mountain way in the distance. Both the red group and white group send hunters into different parts of the bush to catch a live antelope. The first group to return with two live antelopes to the chief is pronounced the winner.
Most of the group stopped beside a large lake, that only a few were crossing. “Only men can go into the Bush, “ our friend told us. Wanting to get pictures and see the actual hunting, Dana and I agreed that I should still go. I gave her my backpack and all my valuables and ventured through the lake. At times it became deep and the mud below made you sink an additional two feet. Nearly falling several times, I leaned on the man next to me for support. Reaching the other side I realized that I had also left my sandals with Dana. Nonetheless, I walked with a group of men wearing red that were heading to the Bush. Walking over sea shells and mud without shoes was not comfortable, but I was excited as we inched closer and closer to the Bush. Suddenly, within a hundred yards of the bush I heard the loud beating of drums and whistling as a parade of over 400 people emerged from the woods. In the front was a man with a live antelope held in both of his hands. I stood to take pictures and was pulled into the excited mob. Marching and shouting with the other hunters, I was frequently smiled at and encouraged. “You are a real man,” some said, “Not many Obrunis come all the way to the bush” said others. Some took a more physical encouragement and took the red paint from their sweaty faces and wiped it on mine. By the time we came to the large lake again I was covered in red paint and sweating like crazy! Those on the other shore line saw we were arriving with the antelope and excited ran to the bank to meet us, realizing that we must hurry to meet the chief before the white group we ran the entire way through the lake and all the way back to the town. I broke off from the group trying to find Dana in this mob of over 2,500 people chanting and running. She wasn’t where I had left here and she unfortunately had my phone.
A friend I had made in the mob and I went around asking where the Obruni with red hair was. Most said she had left with the crowd. We ran from the very back of the line through marchers who laughed as they saw I was covered in paint from the Bush. As I stood on top of a large hill, I spotted her and sprinted towards her. The rest of the march back to the village we made together.
As we returned to the town of Winneba we paraded through the streets with the proudly held antelope in the front. It was an incredible feeling. Being pushed forward by this huge mob of excited dancing people that were chanting in Fante. I caught on with a couple of the chants and yelled as well. We marched through town as a mob for at least 30 minutes before we reached the Queen Mother’s house and then the chiefs house. As we marched toward the chief’s house, the chants became less powerful so I started loudly shouting the last chant “Yanim Soldja”. Hearing that an Obruni was chanting, people began responding “Kwasi Bruni” and the chant continued. As I continued the same chant I got closer and closer to the front until I was shouting the the entire procession and those in the front who could hear were responding.
All the kids in the crowd found this amusing, and ran up to the front to shout “Kwasi Bruni” when I shouted “Yanim Soldja”. As I continued chanting the group of kids grew to about 50 and we marched through the streets ahead of the group chanting on our own. The people along the streets seeing an Obruni leading kids and chanting were laughing and cheering me on. As we continued in the direction of the chief’s house and the ceremony for the Antelope/Deer, I was stopped by a TV station and a microphone was stuck in my face. “How are you enjoying the festival…What do you think of Ghana…How long have you been here…” I did my best to respond as I was sweating and was loosing my voice from shouting all morning.
After about half an hour of shouting at the top of my lungs leading these kids I was tired. My voice was gone, I had been running barefoot through the town for about 2 hours over rocky streets, and I was drenched with sweat. I waited for my wife (Dana)-she was my wife for the day just for simplicity and so I wouldn’t get so many marriage proposals and neither would she. When Dana arrived we sat, ate, and just relaxed to recover from what was an extremely crazy morning.
Best,
Ben
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