Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Morocco to Mainz; the Holidays abroad

This is my first contribution to the Sister Cities of Louisville blog during my stay here in Mainz, but late is certainly better than never! I have been living in Mainz for a little over four months and have become rather accustomed to things here - and I have to say that a warm bed and a hot shower at my place in Mainz are a welcome sight after a few weeks of backpacking.

I just returned last evening (well... actually about 1:00 this morning) from spending 8 days in North Italy. My friend Liana (from Columbia) and I flew down to Venice (thank God for budget airlines!) for New Year's Eve, and I have to say that midnight in Piazza San Marco was certainly 'once in a lifetime experience,' in no small part due to the foot of ocean water covering the ground; you see, Venice during the winter has this wonderful little characteristic of, well, flooding. Now, when I say "flooding," I do not mean sporadic puddles of rain, or the occasional overflowing canal - I mean real, unadulterated, unquenchable flooding - and my salt stained covered shoes can attest to this dreary fact. That memory will last a lifetime!

I spent my New Year's Eve in Venice, but that wasn't the first stop during my brief winter break. I spent a few days backpacking in Morocco with my friend Danae from the U.S. I have to say that as different as Germany can be from home, Morocco is worlds away. Seeing snake charmers in the streets of Marrakech and the Arabic words "God, Country, King" inscribed on the side of a mountain in Agadir really makes an impression! It was a very interesting experience, and I really can not wait to return to Africa. We returned from Morocco on the 24th of December, the first day of the three days of celebration in Germany. I was lucky enough to spend the three days with a wonderful couple from the Mainz Friendship Circle, Frau Ursula Bell-Koehler and Herr William Bell. It was a wonderful time, and I really appreciate the time I was able to spend with them - not to mention all of the wonderful home cooked German food! It certainly was different from my usual Christmas at home with the family, but I enjoyed myself and the wonderful company all the same!

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Duloglana Ebenezer Adam

Wednesday, July 22, 2009, the day before my departure from Tamale to Accra and about two hours before our "Good-bye" dinner given by our host, I had the pleasure of meeting Ebenezer Adam. Last minute is the description the event and anxious was my state of mind. I was a bit nervous because I didn't have his phone number to schedule a meeting time. Thoughts of rejection and of being turned around at the door rattled me. "But how am I supposed to get in touch with someone who does not have a telephone," I thought. Once again I was proven to be the Americanized foreigner whom induces her own anxiety such as, being nervous about showing up to some one's home unannounced in the Ghanaian culture. I had to tell myself "Relax, this is the way they do it, it's fine." Of course it was no big deal. And my soothing process began when Ebenezer walked in excited and very welcoming. He has a smile and eyes that carried the innocence of a child and the joy of a grandfather every time he sees his grandchild. I felt the warmth of his welcome as he did my visit. At ease I felt.
Duloglana Ebenezer Adam of Tamale, Ghana is a sub-chief; Duloglana represents the region or neighborhood of Tamale in which the Chief resides. The Duloglana is eighty-nine years young and will be ninety in December. The Duloglana began his career as a teacher in Kumasi which is about three to four hours south of Tamale. His career then took a turn in 1948-49 in favor of politics, particularly, in the advocation of independence for Ghana. Chief Ebenezer Adam has worked closely with the first president of Ghana, Kwame Nkrumah, in the establishment of the United Gold Coast Convention (UGCC) in both the southern and northern regions of Ghana. Later after serving as a member of the the UGCC, he then became the General Secretary of the UGCC.
About six years after Ghana's independence was won in 1957, Ebenezer Adam became the Regional Commissionor for the Northern Region of Ghana in 1963 to 1966. He was also the NP for the Tamale. Chief is also known for his mastery work of facilitating, along with three other translators, a complete translation of the Old and New Testament Bible into the Dagbani language. The conception of the Naawuni Kundi Kasi was around 1980 and it took approximately 28 years total to translate both Old and New Testaments into Dagbani. The first Dagbani written bible, the Naawuni Kundi Kasi translated as God's Holy Bible, was published in 2006.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Missing Tamale

As the last of seven weeks comes to a soggy close, I pause to reflect upon this city of Tamale. It holds so many memories, experiences, and I am happy to say, friends. Now that I am getting ready to leave in less than 3 days, I look toward my departure as bittersweet and I reflect upon the things that have made this place so special.

Opening my eyes in the morning to the sound of 30 or more girls singing as they start their school day. “Taking breakfast” of “eggbread” at Fuseini’s. Traveling with strangers in a packed taxi cab, dodging a medley of farm animals and motorbikes. The constant
accessibility of cheap, tasty, freshly-made foods carried by beautiful women and children atop of their heads as well as the knowledge of precisely where your food is coming from as the air is packed with the scent of butchered and burning meat and the bleating of goats and sheep.

Fast food that comes from a giant cauldron served in open air without the million dollar advertising. A satisfying meal of guinea fowl and jolof rice at prices that put the dollar menu to shame. For when there is more time, sharing a bowl of TZed and groundnut soup. Enjoying the company of one another as you both dip your bare fingers into the piping hot ball of dough and then into the scalding soup before scooping the spicy mixture into your mouth unencumbered by the senseless taboo of “double-dipping.”

Bonding over laughter and music as cultural differences melt away and you are no longer where you come from, but who you are.

The beauty of the people. The women in their brightly patterned, tailor-made dresses which hug every curve and complement the figure of a woman. The men with their toned physique developed through years of skilled labor, not manufactured in a stale health club. Their uninhibited practicality and grounded reality.

Above all, those beautiful people I will miss most are the ones that showed me the real side of Tamale and who shared with me their culture, their passions, their hopes and dreams, their laughter, and most of all, their friendship.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

How to Lose Weight in Africa

Losing weight is much harder than I had anticipated. Not that I was trying to shed some major poundage this summer, but I wasn't going to complain if I could fit into the favorite pair of jeans that much better. Being in a new location always makes me finicky about food for some reason. This has nothing to do with different tastes or textures, I just don’t normally eat a lot when I’m not in my comfort zone. So I expected to keep my meals to a healthy size and time. But it didn’t take long for me to forget that idea once I got to Tamale. Tamale is rich with flavor experiences, such as my new favorite poultry, the ever-popular guinea fowl. This tough little bird is an excellent meat choice to Red Red, a bean and tomato dish served with fried plantains, which I can’t get enough of. But this is just one of the many options of local dish. Jolof rice and fried fish can be purchased on the street corner in quantities that would make U.S. restaurants blush and at prices that can’t be beat by the McDonald’s dollar menu.

Besides the local dishes, Chinese food is served at most every sit down restaurant. Non-Ghanaian food is typically referred to as “fast food” thought it is anything but. What is meant by “fast food” is that it is the type of food one can get at a western fast food restaurant. No food is pre-made and left to sit under a heat lamp. When you order pizza here, they begin making the dough.

So amongst the fabulous flavors, plenteous portions and petite prices I was starting to wonder if I would fit into my tailor-made traditional dress. Then I came across a natural way to avoid those pesky pounds: a stomach virus. Indeed, I have discovered that a constant threat of nausea is the only thing to keep oneself from over indulgence.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Zero Visibility

So it was my second day in Tamale, Ghana about 6:30am and I am ironing my clothes outside. I saw one of the wives or at least I assumed she was a wife; there are two wives from what I was told. It was funny because I have met everyone under the sun in Tamale except for these two women whom are supposed to wash my laundry and cater to my every need; however, I have not met them yet, Why?! Subconsciously, about a hundred and one questions were crossing my mind. Why hasn’t anyone introduced them to us?! So she walks out of her room which is separate from her husband and the other wife and so I wait. And I wait. Why has she not spoken to me yet? Do I speak first? I’m the guest?! Does she see me standing here? Anyway, I initiated the first greet by saying, Dasiba, which means “good-morning,” and so she replied, Naa and then she reciprocated Dasiba and so I replied Naa. So it was confirmed she did in fact see me and could hear me. However, there is this odd distance and odd transparency in her personality almost like a personality does not exist. I don’t feel as though my greeting opened a window for a possible conversation of getting to know her but I feel as though she accepts me. After our greet exchange, the morning fell socially silent and time continued and daily duties followed. Awkwardly, I continued to iron my clothes with this permanent substance-less smile on my face (that of a confused foreigner.) Professor briefly enlightened me about Muslim marriage and explained the rank of women. They don’t matter. They are invisible in a sense; they do their duties and go on about the day, he says. Wow! I thought. His explanation greatly sufficed and moved me. Today’s life experience made an imprint on my conscious mind, subsequently, signifying the beginning of a very enlightening journey in Ghana.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Sister Cities Blog 1: Separated by Water, Brought Together by Faith: Reflections on Ceremony and Life

My few days in Tamale so far have been more than I could have ever hoped for. Talking, laughing and learning from the citizens of this city has given me new insight to thoughts and beliefs I had not touched in years. Living abroad has prompted me to reflect not only on the new ideas and experiences I am encountering, but to review and judge my own society and past experiences. My participation in a religious service this past Sunday serves as a physical metaphor for the ability of ceremonies to create unity within a culture and to serve as a vehicle for transcending cultures.

Accepting the invitation to attend liturgy, Erica and I joined Chief Zo-Simli-Naa to her Anglican church. I had never been to an Anglican service before, but since I was raised Catholic I knew there would be many similarities. I was curious to witness the traditions of this religion, but more specifically, the Tamale congregation. We arrived at 10:00am for what would be a three hour service, which is considerably short I am told.

In as many ways as the service was different, it was surprisingly the same. Parts of the service were more traditional, with the use of incense and the gate between the priest and the congregation, and the singing of most prayers. But in the next moment, there was a drum set and a bass guitar and people dancing in the isles. While watching the men and women dance around, I noticed another thing I had not often seen in churches I had attended in the U.S., a real sense of joy and thanksgiving. The dancing and singing was lively and energetic, and the people were smiling! I thought to myself, “now this is the way to celebrate and rejoice!”

Though it was the same act I had performed many times before, the taking of the host represented so much more to me this time. It was the first time I really understood its meaning. By sharing the bread and cup, I became a part of the congregation in some way. Thousands of miles from home, and a simple act of eating and drinking has brought me into the lives of people whom I have never met before. This small, symbolic act is a less personal version of what I have been doing daily in a secular way since I arrived in Tamale. Eating and drinking with strangers, and through the course of that communion, becoming friends. Christianity is irrelevant. The communion practiced in church is just a symbolic way to remember that it is this daily act that unites us to our fellow human beings.

In the middle, all newcomers were asked to come up, introduce themselves and to be blessed by the priest. Though slightly uncomfortable, being welcomed infront of the entire congregation and then individually blessed by the priest was another example of how welcoming and genuine the citizens of Tamale are. With nearly every person I have met here, I have felt a genuine warmth, friendliness and sense of interest that I have yet to discover in the United States or in any of my travels abroad. It reminded me of my work with foreign exchange students at Beloit college. Two German girls repeatedly seemed concerned with the validity of friendships in the United States. At first, I thought I understood what they meant. In the U.S. the term “friend” is carelessly thrown around when one really means “acquaintance.” This leads to false conceptions of relationships when Americans claim to be friends, but lose contact within a matter of days. Now, in Tamale, I am recognizing the shallowness of typical American culture. This is not to say that I have not experienced true friendship in the United States, only that the majority of interactions with new people are incredibly transient. But in Tamale, within the first few meetings, I felt at home here. The cultural focus on greetings ensures a conversation with each person upon every meeting. Our interest in learning Dagbane has created even closer bonds as we develop new ways to relate through language. Most of all, when anyone is in the room, they are included, without fail, and we as guest have been given a sense of importance reserved for those twice our age.

I know that visitors from Tamale have enjoyed their time in Louisville. When I attended a farewell dinner in Louisville for recent guests, they graciously thanked their hosts and Sister Cities for the hospitality they received. But after coming to Tamale, I find it difficult to believe that they met the level of warmth and respect that perpetuates this society.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Guy Love

Before I left for Tamale, Ghana, I was told that it might happen. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it though. The flash of a Cheshire grin exuding coolness (the kind equipped to mask fear or hesitancy in the face of a challenge or imminent danger) was my only response to my Ghanaian brother's forewarning. I spoke with some (female) friends (in America) about it and they applauded the openness that accompanied my ambivalence towards it. “Well at least you haven’t taken a stance against it…that says a lot about you…” Umm, yeah but it doesn’t make me feel any easier about it.

It = holding hands (heretofore abbreviated as HH)
a common act of friendship between men in Tamale, Ghana.

In American culture, extreme acts of manliness do not include handholding with other men. Physical expressions of male-to-male non-aggressive behavior are allowed in limited contexts – father/son relationships, athletic championships (its okay, even expected, to weep like a child when you win the Super Bowl), and in extreme cases, the death of a relative. In fact, holding hands with members of the opposite sex in public spaces is often regarded as a chore. But I’m not in America anymore. According to my Ghanaian hosts, homosexuality is not openly practiced in Tamale. However, behaviors Americans stereotypically ascribed to homosexuals do occur in my new environment.

HH Encounter #1: We were greeted by a small contingent of Dagbani folks representing Sister Cities in Tamale. Upon our arrival in northern Ghana Saturday morning, the notion of guy love took was initiated. An elder member of the delegation reached for my hand to shake it and welcome me to Tamale. In a sudden act of discreet precision, the handshake morphed into him guiding me by the hand towards the rest of the group. The manly man inside of me released his hand and grabbed hold of my cool. I was on hand guard patrol for the rest of the day but I wasn’t prepared for my next encounter.

HH Encounter #2: During my time here, I have made friends with a Dagbani man of my age. We have grown to be fast friends and share a lot of interests. One day walking through the Zo-Simli Naa Palace, we were joking about some things as men often do. We slapped hands (a ritual that appears to be a universal sign of male peers) after a good laugh and it happened again. The Dagbani men are swift in their execution! I found myself walking with my friend hand in hand for paces through the palace. It doesn’t last long like a nice walk in the park or anything, but it’s lengthy enough to recognize that this XY chromosome carrier has my hand.

I’ve given a lot of thought to the cultural significance of the act. Male friends of all ages can be found walking hand in hand with little regard for any misinterpretation of their relationship. It is an act of friendship. I’m still debating on where to draw the line or whether a line needs to be drawn at all in this regard. If I am to call this man my friend, do I reject his hand when he reaches for mine? While the story unfolds, I’ll leave you with this memorable moment from Scrubs the musical. Time for some jolof rice!



Like what you've read so far?

Check out my personal blog at www.khalfani-thenextpage.blogspot.com