Butterfly

 

I had a couple of social encounters this week in my village that I want to share. First last week Chris and I went to a drinking bar to greet one of his relatives who had come from Accra and we stayed there for a while enjoying Malta (malt drink that tastes like cereal in a bottle). A couple of funny things happened. First one of the village men asked me if I knew what my Buli name 'Awenle' means. Of course I did and replied 'God's daughter.' To which he got really excited and told me that now he liked me. I acted as though I was offended and asked him if that meant he didn't like me before then. All the guys in the group thought that was hilarious. Later a different man told me he would build me a swimming pool in Gbedema because of the heat. I told him I loved that idea and would ask him every day where my swimming pool was. He didn't like that so much...

On Sunday evening I went to the second day of a funeral part of which was for Chris' father. Who died in 1998- he wasn't kidding me during dry season when he told me all about funerals and said sometimes it takes years. I had the chance to snap more photos of a local funeral and also witness some new rituals. Since Chris was part of the family who had a loved one who died, he had to stand in line to have local clay put on his arms and forehead. Next we listened to some songs by the men and women; I really enjoyed the song by the women since it was quieter and used these cool bell type instruments (though they were soft). I didn't as much enjoy seeing the slaughtered cow, goats, sheep, and chickens especially since they already started smelling even though they'd just been laid out that morning. Apparently people cook and eat the meat once the ritual is finished for the day. I learned that each person who died has a person representing them who is supposed to act like them. For example, there was this one woman dressing and acting like her father. She greeted us by calling children and then made a comment about having a white person among us which her father would've done. Finally after loquacious announcements, they started the processionals. First the war dance. Then women carrying the belongings on their heads. And then bringing out the mats one by one to the place where they were burned. Two shirtless men would carry each mat and since the spirit is in the mat they didn't always move in a straight or safe fashion. I almost got hit by a war dance weapon (I think it was a bow) and then a mat; funerals are dangerous. After seeing the burning of the mats where the spirits are released to start making their way to the ancestors we went home. I was exhausted since we greeted so many people at the funeral and I'd gone to Fumbisi market earlier in the day. But it was definitely interesting and educational so I'm glad I went.

While we were standing around waiting for the next ritual to start, I heard some pretty funny stories about when cell phones first came to Gbedema. The only thing one woman knew about cell phones was that you were supposed to say hello. So when someone called her daughter for her and gave her the phone, she kept repeatedly saying 'hello' despite the fact that her daughters was trying to talk to her. Another story was about a guy using a Nokia phone for the first time. Good ole Nokia- yes we're really behind but I kinda love my little Nokia phone here- when you 'on' it a graphic comes up showing two people shaking hands. Well this guy thought that meant it was time to talk so started speaking into the phone. The last one is my favorite. If you don't have sufficient credit here to make a call, a British voice will tell you such. Well one man thought it was an operator instead of a recorded message so tried to tell the person he wanted to talk to his son and could he please call his son. When they failed to do so, he told someone the white man refused to allow him to speak to his son.

Now onto my favorite topic...food. I am now the proud keeper of a donut machine. Madam Rose from the primary school loves cooking and even studied 'catering' in school. One day we were discussing my weakness for baking and sweets and she mentioned that she had the machine in Sandema. We concocted a plan for her to bring it and for me to buy the healthy ingredients (flour, margarine, sugar, eggs, and baking soda) so she could teach me. It finally happened last week and she's letting me keep the machine here since she never uses it. So yes I don't have a fridge but I do have a donut maker. My other culinary victories this week were an oriental cabbage salad of sorts (complete with crunched up ramen on top) and pizza! I made bacon pizza and it was delicious plus much easier than I thought it'd be. Now I just need to keep practicing so I can perfect the crust and make my own cheese to use. Apparently despite my best efforts to 'cook American' for myself, I miss certain foods. I had a dream about the grocery store this week and standing in the produce aisle oohing and aahing over all the fruits and veggies. Thankfully in August I can go grocery shopping every day if I so desire!