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.