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| Abaa, the day custodian and groundskeeper |
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| Julianna all dressed up for church |
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| Samual |
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| The Pastors-to-be filing by |
What a day! I was totally immersed into a “day in the life” of a local today and had to leave my ego, my issues with organized religion and environmental ethics behind and dove in head first.
I began the day getting myself dressed in one of Julianna’s old dresses, especially made for special occasions. It was a little larges, smelled like “old lady” and looked even more so. The fabric and cut were actually quite beautiful (did you know that women buy their fabric and have their dresses all made? By the looks of the variety and intense styling of these dresses, that dressmakers are artists, designers and seamstresses all rolled into one) but on me, made me look and feel a little dowdy. Anyway, like I said, ego aside, I left for church after I had my breakfast of fresh fruit: orange, banana, grapes and apples (the latter 2 I think may be imported, but not certain) and white “fresh” baked bread (from a bakery in Accra, from which, if you remember, took us 7 hrs to get here) sold from piles on side of the street stalls or off people’s heads along the roadside markets with REAL peanut butter (bought from a woman who sat husking the peanuts, beside the jugs of peanut butter at her stall- talk about local). For those of you who know me well, you might have stumbled on the word church. I went to church. Not only that but followed by all afternoon at a real “Bible-thumping” evangelical style pastor indoctrination ceremony!
So- church. Emanuel Hall at the school serves as a canteen for the primary and middle school students but also as the local spiritual church. This morning’s service was unbelievable; honestly. I had flashbacks of my years in Montreal, walking by a Baptist Church in NDG, standing outside, listening to the gorgeous uplifted voices, so full of energy, thinking that if I were a formal worship type, this would be the way to go. Today’s service included rock and roll drums, African jembays, crazy dancing and Halleluiahs.. it was such fun. I have to say that going into the 3rd hour, however (yes, it lasted for almost 3 hours), it I became incredibly hot (sitting there; by this time I had given up joining in on the dancing) and thought I might pass out. I was told later that I would be better placed next week to be under a fan. I was invited up in front of the congregation and asked where I was from, why I was there and, lastly, if I had any words for the congregation. I said my best “Me daa sen” in Twi (thank you, in their language) which seemed to go over well and that I was honoured to be in Adumasa. Most of them only understood the part in their language as few of them speak English and many who do need it nice and slow (I have to remember this while I am teaching as you know how good I am at talking slowly). The other aspect of the service that I particularly enjoyed is the participation of the children (middle school age; younger have Sunday School outside during the service), leading hymns, intricate spiritual songs, dancing, drumming (one of the main drummers didn’t look more than 11 years old).
After the service, I quickly helped Julianna make fried yams with red pepper chutney (to die for). In the meantime, the day watchman/school custodian stopped by, we shared lunch with him (although he eats in another room- I know.. I know..) , he then dumped the garbage in the backyard (yes, in the backyard, food stuff, tins, plastic, everything…once it dries, it gets burned. Yesterday we passed by a fire that smoked so much we assumed it had to be tires- sigh) and quickly mopped the floor (I felt strange with this but it’s all part of biting your tongue one has to do in such foreign situations) before we left. I lock the door and keep the key during the day, as well as a key to my bedroom door for extra security.
Julianna and I were joined by 3 older students (Penelope, Samuel and another still to formally to meet) for the drive to Kumasi (10 minutes or so) to a school ground (called The Hour of Faith International School, believe it or not) where the ceremony was to take place. It did not start for another hour at least and then lasted for about 5 hours! At least it had cooled down from the morning! Ghana is good therapy on slowing down and going with the flow. I have yet to see anyone looks at their watch and there seems to be a lot of waiting around, much of what is done seems to take a long time, so you had better be patient. I have to say, I do feel like I stand out here. I have seen only 4 other white people, 3 backpacking teens having come from the cell phone shop, and a man at the internet café; definitely none but myself at the spiritual church pastor ordaining ceremony! The man (Michael) we were seeing get ordained was a teacher at the Adumasi middle school, so it was 3 of his ex-students who came for the event, along with his ex-boss, Julianna. I was so touched by how important it seemed to Michael that I came to the ceremony this afternoon after having been at their community service this morning. He was just ordained for the ministry and is returning to school and he tells me that he was so proud of me this morning (the dancing? Going in front of the congregation? Wearing the traditional, however hot and unfashionable, dress?) and was so happy to have me there. He asked for pictures to be taken together as did his family and friends (I was even in the full family- friend shot..me…the Abruni who just met this guy yesterday!). I asked Julianna about it later. I told her how significant the experience had been for me, as a reminder of the impact a small gesture can make and how I couldn’t get over how much it seemed to mean to him. She said that it is known that North Americans and Europeans value their time so to come and spend the afternoon being there after all morning at church, meant so much more, not to mention that he was the only pastor out of all 60 or so who was supported by a white woman! Funny or what?!
Being in the ministry is a great honour in Ghana, especially in the south or central region where and traditional and Christian are followed by the majority and Islam is the minority. On this note, it turns out that Michael’s, who was being ordained, family is Muslim yet they were there supporting him while Samuel, one of the senior students who came with us, (to note: these students are so respectful, especially Samual, taking such care of Julianna, picking things up for getting us seats, guiding me through the crowd, asking if they can hold things for us etc..) . Penelope escorted me to the “bathroom” after the ceremony and took her charge very seriously (the bathroom was a little -6ftx 4ft- cement square extension jutting out behind the building, with a metal gate as a door, the toilet was a trough in the cement floor, with a plastic tube in a hole and a tap above for, I gather, rinsing yourself and your splash area? If you had to go number 2, not sure what you would do). Samuel and spoke for a little bit before the end of the ceremony and, unlike Michael; his parents are Muslim and basically disowned him because he does not want to follow their faith. They sound like they are poor anyway, so couldn’t support him is they wanted from the sounds of it. Samuel’s brother is also on his own as a result, both trying to not be a burden on their parents, something most developed country children could not relate to in the slightest. I was so impressed with Samuel from the first day I met him on Friday at the school. He helped Fei get the computer lab set up. He is gentle, self aware and well spoken (he speaks the best English of any of the young people have met thus far). He is trying to survive on his own and complete his education with much difficulty, but is not willing to give up because he has hopes to attend University. He has missed several years of school as a result of the prohibitive situation, but was encouraged by Julianna to come this year and they would figure it out, trusting that the support would be there for him. Free education (not including text books etc.. of course) only goes until grade 9 in Ghana so there is a huge drop in numbers from grades 9 to 10 (called here: level 3 middle school and level 1 senior school respectively). There is also a drop from grade 6 to 7, especially in girls, largely due to the inherent costs of school, even if public/”free”, and other economic and cultural considerations of a Ghanaian family. Samuel is 21 years old in grade 10 which means he has missed several years of school, which is so sad, knowing how much he wants an education and is striving for more than his “lot” in life. Fei and Julianna have been helping him as much as they can, paying some of his schooling (200 cedis- approx. $150) allowing him to stay on the school site, in an extra out-building, so as to not have to incur boarding costs, yet he has to pay for his own food and the remainder of his schooling costs (100 cedis for this term, 300 next: approx. 280$), so he has been allowed to organize the sale of the water (I gather he bottles it and sells it from the market) from the school well to raise his food money. I hope to pay for the remainder of his schooling to Julianna before I leave and to solicit for a sustainability fund for him when I return home, in the hopes that, at the very least, his senior schooling can be paid (300 cedis per term; 600 per year; approx. $450).
It’s odd, but being here on the school property, even though the school buildings are rustic and quite bare, they have electricity, running water with the help of mounted reservoirs and an electric pump at the school to service the out buildings such as the guest house where I am, and a septic system (at least here there is, at the school I will find out tomorrow); I’ve developed a skewed view of the situation for most Ghanaians. Most people in Ghana do not have running water, not electricity and only the hole in the floor set up or a in the backyard as their bathrooms. And to think this is the wealthier section of Ghana. The north must really be a heart-wrenching area to travel throughout. When I drove by the gas station with Julianna today, I saw that the gas was 1.18 cents! Then think about the fact the average income here is not even $2.00 per day!
I still have something to say about environmental conservation and connection however. I still think that an impoverished society would benefit from a better connection with their natural world. There seems to be no understanding about what lies beyond the buildings and streets here. My host doesn’t even seem to be able to tell me anything about the species of animals or insects here…it’s like none exist except up north or in the nature preserves. The lack of understanding of how today’s actions impact tomorrow’s health if astounding. I also don’t see it being an economic issue but rather a cultural one which can be easily addressed with governmental regulations and implementing simple systems such as garbage cans in towns and cities. Apparently there are garbage collectors in town (in fact, Prince/Fei told me that one landfill is harnessing energy from a methane cap in the country), so why does everyone of all ages simply chuck their garbage on the ground? There are no garbage cans! I was struck by the irony of the occasion today and its aftermath- pious gathering talking about god and respect and love for all (I assume, the earth is in there too?) yet, even my host is chucking her candy wrappers (from the candy I gave her- making me feel slightly responsible) on the ground after she pops it in her mouth…the grounds were COVERED with plastic water bags, paper, and all matter of trash after the event. No one so much as batted an eye when lawn mowers passed over the grass and garbage with the sound of incessant popping and whizzing of plastic bags and garbage being pulled up into the blade and spewed out (God (haha) only knows why they started immediately after the ceremony finished, while newly ordained pastors were sitting and celebrating with their attending family and friends). I was aghast, but knowing this is not my place to do or say anything, but thinking how this has nothing to do with the wealth of the nation but a mindset. It doesn’t matter how rich you are in Ghana, you still chuck your garbage on the ground. I bet even if I asked an educated, wealthy Ghanaian about the plastic island in the Gulf of Mexico (where much of their plastic must end up; God only knows where they think it goes), they would have no idea what I am talking about or why burning their trash (including their millions of cell phone batteries they must go through as, like Quebecers with their cigarettes, no matter the income level, everyone has a cell phone) On the note of smoking however, let me end on a happy note, I have yet to see anyone smoke here. It just isn’t part of their culture and, apparently, the converse is true, smokers will get blasted by others if they are smoking in public, telling them to go away with their cigarette, that they can’t be doing that etc...so MUSIC, DANCING
Vocab:
Yes= ya ee
Bye= bye bye
(people told me more words which I no longer remember and I didn’t have my notebook to write them down)
For pictures of the weekend go to:
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