I decided to have a few ‘cultural’ experiences while in the north and my Kentish friend Samantha who is placed on the Ghana/Burkina Faso boarder took me to a nearby hilly area for an explore. I cannot tell you how delighted we were to find we had arrived on the day of the tribe’s annual festival!! A we pulled into the village there were many crowds of people all wearing colourful towels, dancing, chanting and waving what looked like hairy sticks in the air…we asked a local women who said we were most welcome to join in…as long as we took off our tops and adorn the toweling robes she would give us! Apparently the towel was part of the festival and you are showing respect by not sweating (how anyone would not sweat in the 40c + heat is beyond me but hey I guess the towel offered some sort of absorption! So we joined in and went over to see a whole crowd of men stomping their feet so much the earth churned up and a fine mist of dust covered them and the goat skins they were wearing – it was quite something.
We continued to enjoy the festival and got involved with some of the dancing, we couldn’t quite work out the purpose of the festival as not many participants spoke English but after a number of questions to a man who turned out to be the chief’s son we managed to understand the tribe were giving thanks to the ancestors who had kept them safe that year. The chief’s son took a bit of a shining to us and asked us if we wanted to see the chief’s palace where he lived, so off we trundled in our towels (mine was a Joseph’s Technicolor dream coat affair for those of you creating a visual picture!!). We met the chief, clad in goatskin who told us he had 17 wives and over 75 children! The chief’s palace was enormous and was home to 307 people. Of course the staple Ghanaian questions followed, ‘Are you married’ (to which more often than not I respond yes for an easy life!), this time however we decided to be honest and say no…this led to an invitation to stay for lunch, which was a great honor. We feasted on rice and some sort of unrecognizable meat dish with a smoky taste, served by a rather substantial wife adorned in what else but a towel! We washed our meal down with some locally brewed alcohol ‘Pito’ which the chief’s son gulped down thirstily as I sipped, conscious not to get drunk in the chief’s palace in the middle of the day wearing nothing but a towel! We were taken around the palace seeing a number of shrines with various dead animals sacrificed in front of them. Talking to the chief’s son I came to believe that the chief was a pretty good guy who ran his community well, people were allowed to chose who to marry, children both boys and girls were made to go to school and individuals could chose their religion, Christian, Muslim or ancestral worship. I left the village feeling like I had had a unique glimpse into an element of Ghanaian culture and was very grateful to the community who had opened themselves up to us.
I decided to make the most of a bank holiday weekend which fell while I was in the north and went with another British girl to Mole National Park for a safari, the park is in the middle of nowhere, hours down a dirt track but the trip was certainly worth it if not for the sky alone – the stars were incredible! We were lucky to see many elephants, baboons, crocodiles, antelope, warthogs and various other monkeys – the perfect way to end my trip!
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Thursday, 11 March 2010
The North/South Divide
It was with a sense of great anticipation that I ventured ‘up north’ for the first time In Ghana. Being based in the southern capital the furthest north I had been was the old Ashanti capital of Kumasi (around 6hrs away) with the fantastic coastline to explore here in the south I had spent much of my spare time discovering Ghana’s palm fringed beaches and interesting, yet slightly uncomfortable slave forts. A work trip was to take me to Tamale (12hrs due north on the bus) and I decided to use that as a springboard to explore the regions which are imaginatively named ‘northern’ and ‘upper east’. I wanted to see and experience first hand the extreme differences between northern and southern Ghana which I had so often read and heard about.
I spent some time before my trip pondering the differences between the geographical areas in countries and indeed continents I was more familiar with. I thought about England and our very own north/south divide and the interesting quirks, differences in accent, food, the nuances in language and even to a certain extent cultural and social problems we have. We all know the jokes surrounding our status as either a ‘northern monkey’ or ‘southern fairy’ and having grown up in rural Lincolnshire (which I don’t think is altogether clear on its geographical status!) and having spent all my adult life ‘down south’, I am left quite unsure of my status as a northerner or southerner, I remain fiercely proud of my Lincolnshire roots but I’m told my accent is starting to sound less yokel and more yuppie these days.
In Ghana the vast majority of the countries industry, wealth and resources are based in the south with much of the northern population working as peasant farmers or petty traders it is hardly surprising that the statistics surrounding poverty, literacy and numbers of girls in education are appalling. Most families have over 10 children and many parents are unemployed. To say I wasn’t fully prepared for what I saw, the people I encountered and the challenges the north faces was an understatement. So I boarded the early morning bus (have had rather a late night) and was prepared for my trip. The buses in Ghana are jam-packed and very unreliable so I was advised to opt for the top class bus at the princely sum of just less than ten pounds for a 12hr trip I was not complaining. The bus was crammed full of people, sacks of tomatoes and yam and a few chickens. Next to me sat an old lady and what looked like a 6/7 year old girl who was placed between us and spent most of the journey sat on my right thigh! 6hrs into the trip we were out of the south and as we stopped for a comfort break I was captivated by the number of Muslim passengers who jumped off the buses to wash their feet with brightly colored teapots before kneeling down to pray. The south of Ghana is fiercely Christian but the north is mainly Muslim, amazingly these communities live in harmony with each other and respect one anothers faith. As we drove on the landscape became drier, the environment less humid and the road bumpier until is descended into mud tracks.
During my time in the north I stayed with many VSO’s who had arrived when I did and it was a joy and a comfort to spend time with them, hear about the experiences and challenges they were facing. One British couple I stayed with during my time had employed a house girl called Fati (short for Fatima) and I spent time getting to know her, riding on the back of her motorbike (the main mode of transport in the north). Fati is a positive young career woman, she should be seen as a shining light for Ghana’s future, holding down a job and bringing up a little girl, she has been able to buy her own motorbike and fund numerous visits to the beauty saloon. However my heart was burdened when she told me of the anger she felt towards men in her community who beat their girlfriends with their fists or their belts, this in itself is terrible but I was shocked when this sparky, educated woman told me that the men did not have a right to do it because they weren’t the husband, once you are married the man is allowed to beat his wife freely! We talked about leaving such men, but Fati told me that if you live as a single woman alone or with a child but no man you are thought to be a prostitute. Like so many situations I have seen in Ghana, these women are trapped in their circumstances and I fear the end is a long way in sight.
I went to stay with my Kenyan friend Sam in his mud hut in a very rural village; he is working on an agricultural project. I loved being out in the country (I guess that is the Lincolnshire in me?!). Sam introduced me to a Ghanaian friend of his, who when he heard I worked in the disability sector asked me how we can help his friend who has a disability he received when he suffered an attack with a machete. I was frustrated because in the south of Ghana I could have pointed him in the right direction, to the relevant support groups and potential opportunities for this young man, but in the north these systems and networks are so underdeveloped there was no one for him to turn to. I’d heard stories of disabled babies being killed or left to die as tradition says that disabled babies are a curse, after spending just 2 weeks in the north I could believe that his was true.
I had a fantastic time in the north, I loved it, despite temperatures reaching 44c and not an A/C unit in sight, and I came back refreshed, motivated and knowing more about this great country. But I have returned questioning, Ghana is supposed to be a beacon of hope and sustainability in West Africa, politically things are developing, the economy is growing and many say with the recent discovery of oil the future for Ghana is bright….that maybe so for the south where in the capital men are getting rich and fat, sushi bars are springing up, many have university degrees and are working professional jobs, the roads are full of 4x4’s and shops are selling flat screen TV’s. But elsewhere in the country children are still dying from diarrhea, women suffer at the hands of their husbands and men cannot grow enough crops in the climate to sell and feed their families. I returned feeling relaxed, yet somehow burdened… I’m not sure that was helped by my 14hr trip home through the night with no seat on the bus – I thank God for the lovely lady selling tomatoes who let me sleep in the aisle all the way back to Accra laying down on her precious tomatoes she was to sell at market the next day!
I spent some time before my trip pondering the differences between the geographical areas in countries and indeed continents I was more familiar with. I thought about England and our very own north/south divide and the interesting quirks, differences in accent, food, the nuances in language and even to a certain extent cultural and social problems we have. We all know the jokes surrounding our status as either a ‘northern monkey’ or ‘southern fairy’ and having grown up in rural Lincolnshire (which I don’t think is altogether clear on its geographical status!) and having spent all my adult life ‘down south’, I am left quite unsure of my status as a northerner or southerner, I remain fiercely proud of my Lincolnshire roots but I’m told my accent is starting to sound less yokel and more yuppie these days.
In Ghana the vast majority of the countries industry, wealth and resources are based in the south with much of the northern population working as peasant farmers or petty traders it is hardly surprising that the statistics surrounding poverty, literacy and numbers of girls in education are appalling. Most families have over 10 children and many parents are unemployed. To say I wasn’t fully prepared for what I saw, the people I encountered and the challenges the north faces was an understatement. So I boarded the early morning bus (have had rather a late night) and was prepared for my trip. The buses in Ghana are jam-packed and very unreliable so I was advised to opt for the top class bus at the princely sum of just less than ten pounds for a 12hr trip I was not complaining. The bus was crammed full of people, sacks of tomatoes and yam and a few chickens. Next to me sat an old lady and what looked like a 6/7 year old girl who was placed between us and spent most of the journey sat on my right thigh! 6hrs into the trip we were out of the south and as we stopped for a comfort break I was captivated by the number of Muslim passengers who jumped off the buses to wash their feet with brightly colored teapots before kneeling down to pray. The south of Ghana is fiercely Christian but the north is mainly Muslim, amazingly these communities live in harmony with each other and respect one anothers faith. As we drove on the landscape became drier, the environment less humid and the road bumpier until is descended into mud tracks.
During my time in the north I stayed with many VSO’s who had arrived when I did and it was a joy and a comfort to spend time with them, hear about the experiences and challenges they were facing. One British couple I stayed with during my time had employed a house girl called Fati (short for Fatima) and I spent time getting to know her, riding on the back of her motorbike (the main mode of transport in the north). Fati is a positive young career woman, she should be seen as a shining light for Ghana’s future, holding down a job and bringing up a little girl, she has been able to buy her own motorbike and fund numerous visits to the beauty saloon. However my heart was burdened when she told me of the anger she felt towards men in her community who beat their girlfriends with their fists or their belts, this in itself is terrible but I was shocked when this sparky, educated woman told me that the men did not have a right to do it because they weren’t the husband, once you are married the man is allowed to beat his wife freely! We talked about leaving such men, but Fati told me that if you live as a single woman alone or with a child but no man you are thought to be a prostitute. Like so many situations I have seen in Ghana, these women are trapped in their circumstances and I fear the end is a long way in sight.
I went to stay with my Kenyan friend Sam in his mud hut in a very rural village; he is working on an agricultural project. I loved being out in the country (I guess that is the Lincolnshire in me?!). Sam introduced me to a Ghanaian friend of his, who when he heard I worked in the disability sector asked me how we can help his friend who has a disability he received when he suffered an attack with a machete. I was frustrated because in the south of Ghana I could have pointed him in the right direction, to the relevant support groups and potential opportunities for this young man, but in the north these systems and networks are so underdeveloped there was no one for him to turn to. I’d heard stories of disabled babies being killed or left to die as tradition says that disabled babies are a curse, after spending just 2 weeks in the north I could believe that his was true.
I had a fantastic time in the north, I loved it, despite temperatures reaching 44c and not an A/C unit in sight, and I came back refreshed, motivated and knowing more about this great country. But I have returned questioning, Ghana is supposed to be a beacon of hope and sustainability in West Africa, politically things are developing, the economy is growing and many say with the recent discovery of oil the future for Ghana is bright….that maybe so for the south where in the capital men are getting rich and fat, sushi bars are springing up, many have university degrees and are working professional jobs, the roads are full of 4x4’s and shops are selling flat screen TV’s. But elsewhere in the country children are still dying from diarrhea, women suffer at the hands of their husbands and men cannot grow enough crops in the climate to sell and feed their families. I returned feeling relaxed, yet somehow burdened… I’m not sure that was helped by my 14hr trip home through the night with no seat on the bus – I thank God for the lovely lady selling tomatoes who let me sleep in the aisle all the way back to Accra laying down on her precious tomatoes she was to sell at market the next day!
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