Growing Up In Africa

Leaving today!

I definitely have mixed feelings. I am completely drained. I managed to get sick with a persistent cough, probably from spending 9-11 hours every day in a cold computer lab then going outside into the heat, not sleeping much, and stressing about this independent study project. And here I thought that I was leaving all those fun habits back in LA. Thankfully, that wasn't characteristic of my entire time here - just the last two-three weeks. Overall, not bad!

However, the last two weeks I was pretty busy working on my research project, which instead of being a simple 30-page paper ended up being 111 pages (including the appendix, which was single spaced, but included over 50 pictures). Oi. But....it's all done now. Printed (the pictures didn't print so well), bound, and handed in. And we all presented. It was definitely really interesting to hear about all the things everybody else had learned about during their research time. One of my advisors came to my presentation, and then about an hour after I'd finished Unansanango (the paramount chief of the Logba traditional area) showed up, too. That was so cool!

I'd gone to speak with him earlier in the week about the project and he welcomed me warmly. He runs an NGO in Ghana which promotes the use of traditional medicine and educates herbalists about safe practices (for the people and for the environment) and his daughter got her degree in traditional medicine. They were very interested in my project, which was all about the names and uses of plants (the majority of the uses that people told me about were medicinal). Although my focus was more on the linguistic aspects of the plant names (especially how they relate to language loss), I gathered a good amount of information that's relevant to the community and put it all in my appendix. After explaining the purpose of the project and everything I had done and would be doing, he told me that although I called my project "small" it was very important to them. He seems to understand pretty well the issue of the children not being able to learn in their own language at school and told me that the names of plants weren't being taught to children in their own language, so having a resource like what my appendix now is will contribute to the development of teaching materials for Logba chilrden... in Ikpana (Logba). He is encouraging me to return and continue the project, since it's very much a preliminary study as it is.

After our discussion, he seemed very pleased. His daughter came out with a beautiful necklace of Krobo beads and put it around my neck as Unansanango declared me a part of the royal family of Logba and adopted me as his daughter. I was touched. And I really would like to come back and continue the project in the future. I have hundreds of ideas for research here. As one of my advisors, Prof. Dakubu, told me, the nice thing about doing research in a place like Ghana is that you will never run out of topics or new things to study. It's so true.

However, today is Sunday: the day most of us leave. Two people are staying longer and two already left. Sunday is my least favorite day of the week in Ghana. Nothing is open. Nothing happens. It's hard to find food... It's the worst. It probably wouldn't be so bad if I prepared in advance on Saturday and stocked up on food, but I usually forget and then spend most of Sunday morning wandering around with a sad, hungry look on my face trying to find any place that's open. It's tragic, haha.

Will I ever eat fufu again? That lovely blob of pounded cassava and plantain that takes 30-40 minutes of pounding to prepare. After it's been pounded that much, you actually don't need to chew it, so you just pinch off a little blob of it in your fingers, dunk it into your soup, and swallow it.

And kenkey? My regular lunch-time meal of slightly fermented corn dough. It's a big ball of dough wrapped up in leaves (corn husks or banana leaves). You pinch off a bit (carefuly - it stays super hot and I've definitely burned my fingers before), dunk it in stew (tomato sauce palm oil, with onions, pepper, and maybe some other vegetables), and eat it. Yes, with your hands. Everything is eaten with your hands. Salad, too. I've actually decided that kenkey is kind of like the Ghanaian equivalent of pizza. You've got the dough, the tomato sauce, the vegetables, and you can kind of count the palm oil as cheese (which doesn't really exist in Ghana). Anyway, I'm a fan.

There are plenty of other dough-like things to eat here. Banku, kafa, akple... it goes on and on. They're all a little bit different, but all are kind of the Ghana equivalent of bread. Carbs. We bake ours, they pound theirs.

I'll miss it. I'm definitely going to miss the readily available, cheap, fresh fruits, too. Less than 50 cents for a fresh coconut. I spent about $1.50 on five little pineapples yesterday that were deliciously sweet. Huge, juicy oranges for about ten cents or less. The oranges are green, and they cut off the outside skin with a knife so that the bitterness from the skin doesn't make the orange less sweet when you eat it. Except you don't eat it. You drink it. They cut the top off and you squeeze the orange and suck all the juice out. Then, if you want, you can split it open and chew out the remaining pulp. Kind of fun.

I bought a drum - a kpanlogo. Natalie (who is actually good at drums - and gave an awesome presentation from her research - ask her about it) has been teaching me kpanlogo rhythms to play on it, which I'm sure our neighbors really appreciate. Haha.

Last night we got to play drums while the other students danced, one last time. We had our going away party and were presented with beautiful kente stoles made by Kwakuche, one of the staff members who is also a kente weaver. My homestay family showed up to say good bye, which made me really happy. I hadn't gotten to see them since I left Accra back at the beginning of the program, because when we came back we pretty much all ended up staying in a hostel near campus because it was much more convenient to be close to campus than to have to commute for over an hour each way. I came back to visit once, but only my uncle was there so I didn't get to see my auntie and cousin.

I told a Ghanaian, "I wish I'd grown up in Africa, then I would know six or seven languages like you do." He responded, "Oh! You are still young. There is plenty of time to grow up in Africa! Stay. You will learn." He kind of has a point. When I first arrived in Ghana I didn't speak the languages (and I couldn't understand Ghanaian English), I couldn't find my way around, I felt really lost and uncomfortable most of the time, and I wasn't sure how to interact with Ghanaians in culturally appropriate ways (e.g. learning how to respond to marriage proposals and being called obruni). I was essentially a child. But, discomfort leads to growth. And I've tried to spend the last three and a half months "growing up in Africa."

My perspective has definitely changed, which makes me glad, since that was one of my goals in coming to Ghana. I've learned about therich cultural and artistic beauty that fills Ghana. I've learned to have an appreciation for "no rush." I've experienced a bit of the satisfaction (and frustration) that comes from doing everything by hand (pounding fufu, carrying water on your head, doing wash in a bucket or a sink) and hearing, "You have done well!" right after the encouraging, "Oh! You are trying!"  I've seen new places, had new experiences, met new friends, partially learned new languages, tried new foods, and found all sorts of inspiration for future research while being here.

I want to come back. I've barely even scratched the surface and it's been an intense past three and a half months. So, in spite of being sick and tired and missing home, I am definitely a little bit sad to leave. I hope that I've brought with me to Ghana (aside from the obvious economic benefits) a positive image of "obruni" (Westerner) as someone who is curious and friendly more than cold and aloof, and that I've brought a little bit of hope to the Ikpana/Logba language situation. I think that I'm taking with me (aside from the drum and the beautiful cloth) a better idea of what it means to me to be an American (it's much easier to appreciate the benefits after leaving the country), a bit of an understanding of this little part of Africa, and also a connection to Ghana, through the people I've worked with and the time I've spent here.