24 September, 2008
Getting My Rotary Fix
On Sunday and Monday, I had the good fortune to attend Rotary functions on consecutive days. On Sunday, I and the other Ambassadorial Scholars at Legon joined the campus branch of Rotaract for its second meeting of the year. Rotaract is a Rotary-affiliated fellowship and service organization for people aged 18 – 30. Some Rotaract clubs are located on college campuses, but others are independent. This particular Rotaract club is supported by my host club, the Rotary Club of Accra.
At the Rotaract meeting, after rousing renditions of “When the saints go marching in” and “Clementine,” we heard a former Rotaracter give an engaging account of the history and purpose of Rotary and Rotaract. I was previously unaware that one of the first projects undertaken by Paul Harris and company in the early 1900s was to purchase a horse for an itinerant preacher so he could make his rounds more efficiently. I also learned that the next District 9100 conference will be held in Togo around Easter 2009. The other scholars and I had the opportunity to introduce ourselves, explain the purpose of the scholarship, and answer questions. The picture immediately above this post is of me exchanging the Rotary Club of Greenville’s banner with the Rotaract president, Collins.
On Monday, I made my way to the sprawling International Trade Fair Center to join 91 Rotarians for a special Accra intercity Rotary meeting to kick off the celebration of 50 years of Rotary in Ghana. In 1958, one year after independence, the Rotary Club of Accra was formed. It was the first in Anglophone West Africa, preceded in the region only by clubs in Dakar, Senegal (ca 1939) and Abijan, Ivory Coast. The young Accra club helped found other clubs, such as Kano in Northern Nigeria. In 1969, Accra West broke off from the founding club to form the second Ghanaian club.
The meeting itself was very enjoyable. The president calls the meetings to order by striking with a mallet two metal plates attached to a replica stool. The stool is a symbol of power in Ghana (this will receive its own post soon). The sound is distinctive – like stones falling in a bucket - as is the rhythm, two slow followed by two quick strikes. The members were enthusiastic in song and donations. They expressed hopes that one day Ghana would become its own Rotary district. The flags on the club’s front table spoke of exchanges with Rotary clubs from all over the world. At the table seated to my right was a former marketing executive who had managed accounts with Unilever; to my left was the former ambassador from Ghana to the United Kingdom. To describe the Accra clubs as cosmopolitan is perhaps a bit of an understatement. I will certainly look forward to further events like these.
At the Rotaract meeting, after rousing renditions of “When the saints go marching in” and “Clementine,” we heard a former Rotaracter give an engaging account of the history and purpose of Rotary and Rotaract. I was previously unaware that one of the first projects undertaken by Paul Harris and company in the early 1900s was to purchase a horse for an itinerant preacher so he could make his rounds more efficiently. I also learned that the next District 9100 conference will be held in Togo around Easter 2009. The other scholars and I had the opportunity to introduce ourselves, explain the purpose of the scholarship, and answer questions. The picture immediately above this post is of me exchanging the Rotary Club of Greenville’s banner with the Rotaract president, Collins.
On Monday, I made my way to the sprawling International Trade Fair Center to join 91 Rotarians for a special Accra intercity Rotary meeting to kick off the celebration of 50 years of Rotary in Ghana. In 1958, one year after independence, the Rotary Club of Accra was formed. It was the first in Anglophone West Africa, preceded in the region only by clubs in Dakar, Senegal (ca 1939) and Abijan, Ivory Coast. The young Accra club helped found other clubs, such as Kano in Northern Nigeria. In 1969, Accra West broke off from the founding club to form the second Ghanaian club.
The meeting itself was very enjoyable. The president calls the meetings to order by striking with a mallet two metal plates attached to a replica stool. The stool is a symbol of power in Ghana (this will receive its own post soon). The sound is distinctive – like stones falling in a bucket - as is the rhythm, two slow followed by two quick strikes. The members were enthusiastic in song and donations. They expressed hopes that one day Ghana would become its own Rotary district. The flags on the club’s front table spoke of exchanges with Rotary clubs from all over the world. At the table seated to my right was a former marketing executive who had managed accounts with Unilever; to my left was the former ambassador from Ghana to the United Kingdom. To describe the Accra clubs as cosmopolitan is perhaps a bit of an understatement. I will certainly look forward to further events like these.
20 September, 2008
The skin of a living thought
A word is not a crystal, transparent and unchanged; it is the skin of a living thought and may vary greatly in color and content according to the circumstances and time in which it is used. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
To re-frame Justice Holmes' observation: words are receptacles of cultural meaning. My Twi (language of the Akan) vocabulary is still shamefully limited, but two recent lessons on word etymologies have reminded me of the importance of expanding it.
Lesson One.
I was recently assigned a reading on Akan proverbs and myths relating to women. Although Akan society is matrilineal, many myths portray women negatively. Ananse, the trickster spider who often plays the protagonist, has a habit of manipulating women for his own advancement. The smattering of proverbs provided by the author was similarly female unfriendly. For instance: “The hen also knows that it is dawn, but it allows the cock to announce it.” Subversively, one of the women’s halls on campus appropriated that proverb, shortened it to, “The hen knows it is dawn,” and adopted it as the hall motto.
The Twi word for proverb derives from the term for palm tree. The palm tree has several uses. Palm oil is a ubiquitous ingredient in local dishes. Palm wine (which I have yet to try) and raffia for clothing also come from the plant. The utility of the palm tree, however, is not readily apparent. I thought they were for drinking Coronas under, not food, drink, and clothing. You see the connection to proverbs, then. A proverb’s meaning is neither unitary nor immediately accessible. The same proverb employed in different contexts justifies different, maybe even contradictory, actions. Proverbs are not wisdom candy; they require mental rumination.
My current favorite: when your hand is in the baby’s mouth, do not strike it on the head.
Lesson Two.
I recently attended a forum on Afro-German identity at the WEB Dubois Center in Accra. The event featured two movies focusing on Afro-Germans followed by a panel discussion. Identity is a function of position. An Ashanti and an Ewe meeting by chance in Heathrowe are going to share a common identification as Ghanaians and Africans, in no small part because that’s how the other people in the terminal see them. When they return to Ghana, however, the unique features of their more localized identities will re-emerge.
Identity, especially when it straddles cultures and continents, is to say the least a sticky concept. How you negotiate your own self-concept is complicated by the ways in which society tries to negotiate it for you. One panelist observed that in Germany, she’s black; in Ghana, she’s white. In both cases, she isn’t fully accepted. Which brings us to our second word derivation lesson.
Obruni was originally translated to me as “white person,” but in fact it’s not a reference to skin color. Black Americans, for instance, are called obruni. Obruni is instead an assertion of the target’s status as a foreigner, an outsider, as indicated by dress, language, or any of the other innumerable factors that betray a person’s non-native-ness.
Three derivations of the word were offered: 1) from the word for wicked person or liar; 2) from the word for corn; 3) from the Portuguese word for white person. I’m obviously least comfortable with the first account, but, even if that is the authentic origin, a trip to Elmina slave castle should preclude any snap judgments on its continued use.
In any case, the word’s derivation is much less important than the spirit in which the word is used. Sometimes obruni is thrown out as part of a casual, non-pejorative greeting. Sometimes it’s shouted to get your attention or chanted by children seeking attention, money, or a pen. Sometimes you’ll pick it out in an otherwise impenetrable conversation among Twi speakers. On days when I particularly want to blend in, its use is a rather blunt reminder that I haven’t and can’t and this can be rather tough to swallow. I, nevertheless, understand that my race is part of a system of privileges into which I was born. I have no cause to complain.
The quest for cross-cultural understanding goes on.
To re-frame Justice Holmes' observation: words are receptacles of cultural meaning. My Twi (language of the Akan) vocabulary is still shamefully limited, but two recent lessons on word etymologies have reminded me of the importance of expanding it.
Lesson One.
I was recently assigned a reading on Akan proverbs and myths relating to women. Although Akan society is matrilineal, many myths portray women negatively. Ananse, the trickster spider who often plays the protagonist, has a habit of manipulating women for his own advancement. The smattering of proverbs provided by the author was similarly female unfriendly. For instance: “The hen also knows that it is dawn, but it allows the cock to announce it.” Subversively, one of the women’s halls on campus appropriated that proverb, shortened it to, “The hen knows it is dawn,” and adopted it as the hall motto.
The Twi word for proverb derives from the term for palm tree. The palm tree has several uses. Palm oil is a ubiquitous ingredient in local dishes. Palm wine (which I have yet to try) and raffia for clothing also come from the plant. The utility of the palm tree, however, is not readily apparent. I thought they were for drinking Coronas under, not food, drink, and clothing. You see the connection to proverbs, then. A proverb’s meaning is neither unitary nor immediately accessible. The same proverb employed in different contexts justifies different, maybe even contradictory, actions. Proverbs are not wisdom candy; they require mental rumination.
My current favorite: when your hand is in the baby’s mouth, do not strike it on the head.
Lesson Two.
I recently attended a forum on Afro-German identity at the WEB Dubois Center in Accra. The event featured two movies focusing on Afro-Germans followed by a panel discussion. Identity is a function of position. An Ashanti and an Ewe meeting by chance in Heathrowe are going to share a common identification as Ghanaians and Africans, in no small part because that’s how the other people in the terminal see them. When they return to Ghana, however, the unique features of their more localized identities will re-emerge.
Identity, especially when it straddles cultures and continents, is to say the least a sticky concept. How you negotiate your own self-concept is complicated by the ways in which society tries to negotiate it for you. One panelist observed that in Germany, she’s black; in Ghana, she’s white. In both cases, she isn’t fully accepted. Which brings us to our second word derivation lesson.
Obruni was originally translated to me as “white person,” but in fact it’s not a reference to skin color. Black Americans, for instance, are called obruni. Obruni is instead an assertion of the target’s status as a foreigner, an outsider, as indicated by dress, language, or any of the other innumerable factors that betray a person’s non-native-ness.
Three derivations of the word were offered: 1) from the word for wicked person or liar; 2) from the word for corn; 3) from the Portuguese word for white person. I’m obviously least comfortable with the first account, but, even if that is the authentic origin, a trip to Elmina slave castle should preclude any snap judgments on its continued use.
In any case, the word’s derivation is much less important than the spirit in which the word is used. Sometimes obruni is thrown out as part of a casual, non-pejorative greeting. Sometimes it’s shouted to get your attention or chanted by children seeking attention, money, or a pen. Sometimes you’ll pick it out in an otherwise impenetrable conversation among Twi speakers. On days when I particularly want to blend in, its use is a rather blunt reminder that I haven’t and can’t and this can be rather tough to swallow. I, nevertheless, understand that my race is part of a system of privileges into which I was born. I have no cause to complain.
The quest for cross-cultural understanding goes on.
08 September, 2008
Greeted by Success in Hohoe
It is the rare day when a young man gets to shake hands with Success. My chance came Friday night. I had taken a bus to Hohoe (“ho-hwe”), the second largest town in the Volta Region of eastern Ghana. Stumbling groggily into the rather ambitiously named Grand Hotel, I met Success, the front desk clerk. Soon a large Star beer slowly started to disappear in front of me, faster once Libya scored on the Black Stars in the 83rd minute.
The next morning my travelling companions and I made our way to Agmusta (Wli) Falls. There, we were guided across swollen streams and through dense rainforest to the upper falls. Up – past fields of cassava and yam. Up – under the shade of palm, banana, and mahogany trees. Up – with butterflies at our knees, mist on our lips, and bats in the cliffs shrieking on the cliffs overhead. After two hours, the muffled roar of the falls gave way to a constant thunder. The path ended, and there, from a stream scarcely fifteen feet across, the whole might of the rainy season poured forth (Agmusta in Ewe means “let it pour forth), nearly on top of us.
It would have been a pleasant day if I had just taken a stroll around the tallest waterfall in West Africa and supported a community ecotourism project (60% of the 8 Ghana cedis I paid to go to the upper falls went to support community projects in Wli). But I didn’t hike the falls alone. I hiked them with Alfonso.
Alfonso, our guide, was born in Wli, schooled in Kpando and Accra, and now tours (in English, French, and Arabic no less) and farms his family lands. I learned from him that there are two growing seasons in the region. The first, major harvest comes in June and July. Fields are mixed cropped with corn, cashe minor growing season which harvests in December is just corn. Alfonso converts a portion of each season’s harvest into seed for the next planting. He can afford fertilizer, herbicides (which are relatively new to the community), and some hired labor. He clears and tills his fields by hand. His fields are fragmented, i.e. not contiguous. Land becomes fragmented because it is passed down to all sons, not just one (so not primogeniture). I don’t know if this inheritance scheme is generalizable beyond Wli, or even beyond Alfonso’s family. In Wli, surplus yields are usually sold in Wli, Hohoe, or Ho to middle men who take the crops to larger markets. Alfonso says they pay fair prices, but he also said that when farmers have money, farmers transport their crops to Accra themselves.
60% of Ghanaians are involved in agriculture. Here, agricultural economics is development economics. On a concluding note, two of the books I’m reading for theories of development, The Stages of Economic Growth by W.W. Rostow and The Theory of Economic Growth by Arthur Lewis, both call for a Green Revolution in Africa. Those books were written about fifty years ago. The Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa, chaired by Kofi Annan, was founded within the past two years.
The next morning my travelling companions and I made our way to Agmusta (Wli) Falls. There, we were guided across swollen streams and through dense rainforest to the upper falls. Up – past fields of cassava and yam. Up – under the shade of palm, banana, and mahogany trees. Up – with butterflies at our knees, mist on our lips, and bats in the cliffs shrieking on the cliffs overhead. After two hours, the muffled roar of the falls gave way to a constant thunder. The path ended, and there, from a stream scarcely fifteen feet across, the whole might of the rainy season poured forth (Agmusta in Ewe means “let it pour forth), nearly on top of us.
It would have been a pleasant day if I had just taken a stroll around the tallest waterfall in West Africa and supported a community ecotourism project (60% of the 8 Ghana cedis I paid to go to the upper falls went to support community projects in Wli). But I didn’t hike the falls alone. I hiked them with Alfonso.
Alfonso, our guide, was born in Wli, schooled in Kpando and Accra, and now tours (in English, French, and Arabic no less) and farms his family lands. I learned from him that there are two growing seasons in the region. The first, major harvest comes in June and July. Fields are mixed cropped with corn, cashe minor growing season which harvests in December is just corn. Alfonso converts a portion of each season’s harvest into seed for the next planting. He can afford fertilizer, herbicides (which are relatively new to the community), and some hired labor. He clears and tills his fields by hand. His fields are fragmented, i.e. not contiguous. Land becomes fragmented because it is passed down to all sons, not just one (so not primogeniture). I don’t know if this inheritance scheme is generalizable beyond Wli, or even beyond Alfonso’s family. In Wli, surplus yields are usually sold in Wli, Hohoe, or Ho to middle men who take the crops to larger markets. Alfonso says they pay fair prices, but he also said that when farmers have money, farmers transport their crops to Accra themselves.
60% of Ghanaians are involved in agriculture. Here, agricultural economics is development economics. On a concluding note, two of the books I’m reading for theories of development, The Stages of Economic Growth by W.W. Rostow and The Theory of Economic Growth by Arthur Lewis, both call for a Green Revolution in Africa. Those books were written about fifty years ago. The Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa, chaired by Kofi Annan, was founded within the past two years.
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