Art Worlds in Ghana

Thursday, July 8

I’m sorry I’ve been so absent from the blog again. I’ve been busy settling into Accra, and when I was in the village, I ran short on money toward the end and there are no banks there, which meant no Internet café for me.

(Getting sick is fun in an isolated village, where there are no doctors past 2 pm and they run out of malaria test kits at night, you don’t have any minutes on your phone, and internet is nonexistent except at the one café which you don’t have money for. It was just a fever as I suspected, and I woke up in the morning feeling fine, but you’re supposed to be safe and get tested. Going to the hospital clinic at 7 pm in a car with Euphemia and Kofi, wrapped in a blanket with my hair flying everywhere, and no help available at the clinic, was, umm, an experience. I’d been dreaming of white-washed walls, that over-sanitized hospital smell, and bathrooms, oh, bathrooms. Foolish me to think the clinic would be any different from the rest of the village. Which, don’t get me wrong, I love, but still it’s a lot to get used to.)

Anyway, now I’m in Accra, but first I have to fill you in on Ada.

My last days in the village were perfect. There wasn’t much class because the kids had sports competitions during the day (just with their own school, cause the government postponed the village-wide ones as you’ll soon read). I was just hanging out with the kids, getting to know them, then in the afternoons running play rehearsal. They discovered my camera and had quite a time taking pictures. They taught me some Dangme, the local language (“study hard,” they said), and I would talk with them about home or ask them about what they want to do when they’re older. We would just chat, and I tried to fill in some of the huge gaps in their current events knowledge. I told them that they should study hard and apply to Haverford, cause we have some Ghanaian students. Justice and Andrews, two of my kids from the play, even wrote down the name of my high school. Justice said he wants to email them and say he knows me so he can make friends? Haha okay…

In a way I feel I accomplished more with them outside of class. I could give them individual attention, and we didn’t have those stupid rows of desks. In class, I was always subbing for just one day, with no lesson plan, no idea what they’ve studied before, and little chance to follow up on the lesson. When I would just talk with them, they would crowd around me in a big circle, and they all wanted to be there. It was relaxed, but I think we both learned more.

Meanwhile, I’ve been in Accra. At the JAC, I’ve been looking into grants and working on proposals. Outside the office, I’ve met with some of the top artists in Ghana – Larry Otoo, who is awesome and took me to his studio; Ablade Glover, who is pretty much the number one artist in Ghana (perhaps Africa?) and runs the Artists Alliance, and amazing collection of contemporary Ghanaian and African art that I told him sure beats the National Museum; and Ato and Adwoa from the Foundation for Contemporary Art (FCA), which promotes young artists and stimulates (/makes) the young contemporary art scene. My professor Ruti Talmor, who does anthropology work on art in Ghana, has actually done some work with the FCA. I’m going back to the village each week to work on the play, which is still going on. We had a dress rehearsal just before I left, are having another one today, and will have performances next week and the week after.

And the rest of time in Accra has been busy, busy, busy. I came here knowing basically no one, but I’ve made some friends at the hostel and met some of their friends, and Kelvin knows people, so there’s always someone around. Last weekend I saw Naa from Haverford and Debbie from Bryn Mawr. It was great to see familiar faces, and we had an amazing lunch at Naa’s aunt’s house (tilapia, stew, banku, rice, chicken, and mango). Professor Jesse Shipley was in town to film the Black Stars’ arrival. I went to the airport too, but I just missed Jesse. As for the Black Stars, they hopped right onto their bus so you could barely see them, but it was cool to be there. Yesterday I went to the Holiday Inn pool bar with Kelvin and some friends, and guess who was a couple tables away from us…the Black Stars coach. With his wife and translator. She was wearing a light purple top and some great heels.

Whew, so that’s Accra for you. Loud, crowded, and a million people bothering you, but exciting and plenty to do. Now, back to Ada.

A prep session with group leaders of the Environmentalism Day/beach clean-up I'm organizing for Friday.

Wednesday, June 16

7:15 am

Wake up. Say good morning to Gladys, the nice grandma I’m staying with. Say hi to Kofi, her grandson who helps out around the house. He will probably insist on filling my water bottle or giving me some sliced fruit (washed and peeled, don’t worry Mom or CPGC).

8 am

Breakfast at Headmaster Samuel’s, made by his lovely wife Euphemia. Maybe an omelet and tea bread. Maybe oatmeal and bread with that French cheese that comes in packets and has a cow on the packaging.

8:30 am

School: Presby JHS (Junior High School)

8:45 am

Teach my first class, probably creative arts at the primary school. Remind the kids to look at what they’re drawing, not just draw what they think they see. Look at the million pictures kids are waving in my face and get excited by how excited they are.

9:45 am

Sit and read in the teachers’ office until they give me something to do. Make small talk with the other teachers. Hear about what they wish they could do and all the setbacks at the school. Wait out the rain, cause it’s probably raining.

10:30 am

Teach creative writing maybe, or lead a French learning game. If it’s the former, help the kids come up with a story they would enjoy writing about. If it’s the latter, the game will probably involve drawing or charades, and me speaking very slowly in both French and English because they have trouble with both.

11:15 am

Sit in on Mr. Isaac’s French class, or possibly Mr. Fred’s ICT (Information Computing Technology, or something like that). Find it interesting but maybe zone out a little.

12 pm

Sit in the office and read for a bit.

12:45 pm

Head to lunch at Euphemia’s. Maybe fufu and chicken stew, maybe banku and fish stew (various doughy grain dishes made of combinations of maize, plantain, and cassava).

1:45 pm

Work on Theatre Spectacular, the play JHS is putting on in collaboration with the Junior Art Club. Go through lines a bit, then lead tongue twisters and exercises to loosen the kids up. Direct blocking and acting and help prompt lines.

3 pm

Head home. Try not to get my legs covered in red dirt from the road.

3:45 pm

Go for a run on the road along the beach. Wave at the people who stare at me. Wave extra at the kids screaming out “Obruni” and running after me. (Seriously, it’s like having my own marathon cheering section).

5 pm

Shower and do laundry (by hand! the bane of my existence).

7 pm

Dinner at Euphemia’s. Maybe watermelon and fried rice or stew. Maybe this thing I just ate that I think is called obolo (spelling?). It’s a sweet, pale doughy crescent made of maize, and you can eat it along with scoops of a tiny tiny fried fish they get from the river here.

8 pm

Go to the internet café or watch an African movie at Euphemia’s. Last week I saw the Nigerian film “Buy Me a Rose.” I found the elevator music that accompanied the raucous pool party scene especially amusing.

9:15 pm

Sit and talk with Gladys and Kofi, read, write in my journal. Maybe I’ll show them my pictures of my friends and family from home. Kofi will have some serious trouble picking out which one is me in pictures with my friends. First he’ll think I’m Emma, then Izzy, then Lizzy, and in another one Jamie. We all look the same to him.

11:15 pm

Bed.

Tuesday, June 8

They kind of threw me into teaching at the Presby junior high (JHS) in Ada Foah (Ada for short), and last night before I began I was pretty nervous.

I’d shown up on Monday afternoon after arriving in Ada and they’d said, “So, you’ll teach English, French, creative writing, art, maybe photography, maybe computing. You’ll begin tomorrow.”

I was thinking, “Okay…ahh! What makes me qualified to teach these kids?” but I just nodded my head and said, “That sounds great.”

They didn’t give me a lesson plan or anything. They said I could do whatever I wanted. I asked to sit in on a couple classes before I began, and then I plunged in. I figured I could base my lessons off the games and activities I liked when I was in school.

Tuesday morning, they told me the computer teacher was absent, and I could teach whatever I wanted. Most of the kids were outside playing. There were only a few in the classroom, but that was fine with me. I like small groups.

I told the class that we were going to play a story game. I asked them to get up from their rows of desks and join me in a circle at the front. The students stood up and shuffled around, unsure what to do. I patted the floor and said, “Right here.”

Their circle was lopsided, but a circle nonetheless. I asked them to go around and tell me their names and favorite subject in school. Their Ghanaian names were difficult for me to understand (like Gifte, Berthe, and others I couldn’t even try to spell), but I would do my best to repeat them. They would laugh and help me out.

Then we started making up a story together. I asked them who they wanted our main character to be (a boy), how old is he (13), what perspective should we tell our story from (1^st person), what’s our main character’s problem (he’s hungry), why (because his parents died in a car crash, and he’s living with his stepmother who is mean to him).

“Oh! We need a name for our main character. What do you think his name should be?” I asked.

“Silver Star,” said one girl.

“Okay, Silver Star. Do you guys like that?”

The class nodded.

As we came up with details, plot twists, and conflicts to embellish our tale, other kids started edging into the classroom. Soon the circle was huge, with students squeezed n and leaned over desks. There were so many I couldn’t catch all of their names. Sitting cross-legged in their blue uniforms, they huddled around me and waved their hands, bursting with ideas. It was picture perfect, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment by pulling out my camera. Sorry, CPGC.

P.S. As the kids settled into their desks to write their own versions of our story, I asked Elizabeth to put the major points on the board. I saw that she’d forgotten the first r in Silver Star and asked if they spell “silver” with a y here instead of an i. That’s when I realized that the whole time I’d been saying Silver Star, they were saying Sylvester.

Whoops. Still getting used to that whole accent gap.

Tuesday, June 8

I’m sorry this blog has been so absent. I haven’t had Internet access in ages, but I’ve been keeping entries and now I am finally able to post them. Just pretend they were posted on the dates I have written.

I stayed four nights in Accra, the capitol, and now I’m in Ada Foah (Ada), a village an hour outside the city. The Junior Art Club (JAC – the arts organization where I’m working this summer) has its office and some programs in Accra, but a whole school where it has a partnership in Ada. So for June, I’ll be teaching here in Ada, and then in July I’ll go back to Accra to work on some of the programs.

More on that later, though. For now, let’s go back to Day 1.