(Spencer) And Now for Something Completely Different

Drumroll..

Yo check it, his first name is Spencer, his last name is Bain,

If you mess with him, you’ll be in pain,

He does crazy shit, but he’s not insane,

This summer, you’ll be in Northern Ghana,

My brother, it’s gonna feel like a sauna,

Be sure to take in all the flora and fauna,

Too bad there’s no weed there, it ain’t Havana!

Seize the moment, seize the day,

I’ll be checking your blog every day, seeing what you gotta say!

All credit goes to the incredible Mr. Danny Liang, ladies pick him up quick before someone else snags his talents =)

Cheers to you EWB Guelph!

I cannot wait to see you all in only a few short weeks. Though at the same the sooner I see you all again, the sooner I will never see those people who I have bonded with over the past months again; a weird dichotomy. Still life must move forward and in the end the memories will really matter.

As I said before, what I look forward to most this coming semester is hanging with all the awesome EWBers at Guelph and living it large with Kevin (I hope his new assertive attitude does not get me in trouble! (I am still an organised mess)).

What are you looking forward to most this coming autumn?

-Suhuyini

(Spencer) More Photomoto

 Hello again!

This is a continuation of the photos Baba has been taking these past weeks. You may ask yourself: why are you posting photos that someone else has taken?

There is an additional level of genuineness to the photographs when they are taken by a local. When I take pictures of someone or of different places there is a slightly different reaction from people, in that they know I am taking those photos back to Canada as a sort of prize. When Baba takes photos he gets people in a more natural condition. In addition it is interesting to see what he thinks is a worthwhile photo compared to what I would snap.

It's a party going on; a baby naming ceremony followed by eating and dancing.A full shot of the area with groups of people sitting under the shade and children just noticing the approaching camera.

A common type of small store, selling small provisions such as; sugar, salt, biscuits, soap, cigerettes, batteries, and many other small useful items. All for a few peswa.

Myself getting my butt kicked in a game of wulli. These guys are seriously good at playing, super fast at the actions, knowing all the right moves, it is African chess. When I play the spectators are in great pain, they see the correct move than I make a very bad one and everyine goes "ohhhh"

A serious speaker set-up blasting out music for everyone in the area to hear and know they are celebrating. The children were dancing like professionals just minutes beforehand, I understand why people in Ghana have such rhythm, it is that dancing and grooving starts from birth,

The computer system running the speakers and pumping out the music. It looks very out of place considering the surrounding buildings and lack of modern electronics.

One of Baba's friends out beside his shop. I think he is selling moto parts.

This is one of Baba's cousins, he wanted to pretend he was in the army. A very respectable profession in Ghana.

This is great handiwork. He made a airplane out of used metal scraps. Trucks and cars are common to see made out of scraps, as they are done in school but this is the first I have seen of any other design. My first thought was to build a model of the Starship USS Enterprise....

Smiling children....that one boy in the corner looks a little more excited than the rest.....

....make that very excited...

....Wahooo! This boy is HAPPY!

After a long day at the farm sometimes one needs a little massage.

So this is the reason people are professional wulli players. Starting from early childhood they are playing and learning to kick my butt at every turn.

Alas, time is running down. 2 weeks left in Karaga and less than 3 in Ghana. What can be expected?

• A final post with pictures Baba has taken
• A post about value chains
• In the next few days a bunch of things about Nyengbalo, right after I finish writing them
• Ending reflections from working in the District Assembly and data systems
• Something about shea nuts
• Hopefully some other things as well...

-Suhuyini

Photomoto

Hello Friends

Prepare yourselves....

                For a wave.....

                                 Of photos!

All thanks should be directed to my great friend Baba who took all the photos.

Let us commence..

This is my man, Baba, father to us all. We do a fair amount of chilling out together, roaming the streets, and doing all those things people in Ghana do as well as in Canada. When we are feeling adventurous we go to the market and pick up ingredients to do some cooking at his house, hamburgers anyone?

(he took all photos here as well as the subsequent posts)

The inside of Baba's family compound. They family has two compounds, and this one is where all the aged men stay. He has a room here and spends his time here but sleeps at the other compound.

At the volleyball court by the junior high school, this is Baba's preferred sport over football. For all you Penetanguishene volleyball lovers I got something awesome coming your way.

Just outside the compound in Karaga town. 

Surprise!

Scheming and looking handsome.

Baba's mother in the midst of eating some T-Z

Three guys, Baba's brothers, doing some late night school work. All in their senior high school.

A big bowl of rice prepared in the traditional Dagomba manner; rice cooked in shea nut oil with onions. Its pretty darn good if I do say so myself.

Early morning with the streets empty expect for a lone donkey, just like the office I am current sitting in.....I prefer being known as a stallion.

More to come!

-Suhuyini

(Spencer) Insides Out

Hello my friends,

It is a fine morning here in Karaga with a gentle breeze blowing and a calming heat in the air. I just arrived into the District Assembly office complex and sat down in my very comfortable office…jokes…I don’t have an office and not even a desk, I sit on the couch which is like heaven after sitting on wooden benches all other times. It’s a rush to many blog posts before I catch the afternoon lorie into Tamale. I made a silly mistake of writing 4 blog posts concurrently and in doing so didn’t actually finish any of them. Today I shall correct myself (not like Jack Torrance seeks to “correct: his family in the Shining, but in a wholesome sharing way).

What better way than a good ol’ heart, body and mind?

Mind

Where is my mind lying? This morning I woke up from a dream muttering to myself “theres not enough time” in regards to what time is left in Karaga. The reality of the approaching end is slowly dawning on me, of course I have always known I was leaving; however as the end  actually comes the sadness of leaving all those who I have come to love and knowing that my placement could use another six months  so much more vivid in feeling.

I am nervous about the sustainability of the database and the future of the data usage in the Assembly, there is much work to do to wrap up all the loose end but little time. At the same time I am excited at the prospects of with a small change in office functioning or decision made; working the District government hopefully means the trickledown effect could be significant or make some impact.

I am super pumped at my village stay this coming weekend, from Thursday until Monday, five days of solid village life and living with the family. It seems to be the perfect time; building great relationships, gaining a deeper understanding of village life, loving life, diving into a hypothesis or two (why are the CLTS latrines used at wells?), and definitely playing games with children.

The summer is an emotional rollercoaster. One day I may be loving my time in Ghana and don’t want to leave, valuing all the small experiences. Than the next feeling like Ghana is the last place I want to be anywhere, wanting to eat cheese, be with my family and far away. Than the next back to feeling as though Ghana is exactly what I need in my life right now, building confidence, building friendships, learning about rural living, and growing greatly. As the summer has moved on those bad days have become less and less but occasionally still do pop up.

At Kate Middleton’s host father put it last year in regards to her leaving, it is as though she is dying because she would very likely never see the family again.  My death in Karaga is soon approaching and I have come to terms with that death least I handle it in a way that is less than satisfactory.

Body

Overall my body feels great and is on the up and up despite the daily mysteries of what my stool will be like(apologizes for the talk of poop but it really is a cause of daily interest, its different every day!). Im getting great sleep that is filled with dreams all night of which are very vivid and no larium needed, talking to myself or Rigel about dream recall if you are interested!

Due to the bike ride to and from Nyegbolo every morning, I am feeling much stronger and more energetic during the day with a huge appetite for teezet and much coco in the morning.

I am unfortunately not Superman like Mr. Man of Steel Kevin Lees, and have been plagued with many ailments. As a preface, none of these illnesses have affected my happiness in a very large way at all; I took a very positive outlook in every situation as I did not want to poison my mind with negative thoughts. Alas, heres a recap; respiratory tract infection during the third week in Karaga, stomach parasite for the first 7 weeks, and countless cases of diarrhea. Though again, none have been too serious so perhaps I have been lucky?

PLUS!! I am looking quite fine if I do say so myself. Rocking a very nice tan and my teeth are better than ever thanks to the wonders of chewing sticks. My long hair is a huge hit, the ladies are super jealous of it and men find it very interesting.

Heart

When I think of the coming school year I think of two things and not one of which is school itself. The first is living with Kevin in our secret forest retreat and the second is chilling out with all you awesome ewb-in Guelphites.  Whenever I think of the either of these two things a super wide smile spreads across my face; in fact one has just spread. “you are laughing” says Barraca has just said to me, “just thinking of very happy times” I reply, she smiles as well.

My host family are awesome, I am drawn to return to them every night and it feels great to do so. The ladies are wonderful and so kind. I am awed by their personal strength; they work from sunup to sunset and always have a joyful attitude about them. The children are hilarious and I am hilarious to them.  There is a feeling of being accepted amongst the family that warms my heart quite deeply. When I spend a night away from the them and the village I am genuinely quite sad, tonight I am spending the night in Tamale which is the last place I want to be but necessary from a living and monetary standpoint. It comes down to what I was muttering in my sleep, “there is not enough time” and I want to spend as much time with them as possible before my departure. They get me excited for when that departure does eventually come to see my own family once again, my mother needs a hug I am sure =)

The entire community of people in Karaga, I don’t exactly know how to articulate the feeling exactly but I will try. This town has become so much more than just a town, it is; where I do all my living, where I have had incredible experiences, pushing my boundaries greatly, meeting wonderful friends, learning things I never expected to learn, a community where everyone knows each other including me, full of playful children, the great kingdom of Dagbon, the same yet new and different every day, the list goes on… The people of Karaga are part of me and I a part of those in Karaga. To bike down the main street and recognize most of the faces is such a comforting feeling, reminds me of the community at Guelph and all the other people I love.

There is a man who needs a shout out. He doesn’t read the blog and likely doesn’t even know of me being in Ghana but has been positive force. Mr. Kyle May and your feedback loop of happiness. If you ever read this message you’ll know what’s up!

I suppose the thing about the heart is that it has a ton of love to give and as I write where my heart is at the moment I realize that my heart is with everyone who I care for. It is tangential as I think about my host family I branch to my family in Canada than to my extended family and thinking of the wonderful times shared and each of those thoughts spreads to another than another and another and they connect with other groups of people I love such as my friends back in Waterloo and those experiences which mirror ones in Guelph and oh my oh my there is lots of love……

I can’t do everyone justice but keep in my mind, my name is Suhuyini and you are in one heart.

-Suhuyini

(Spencer) Suhuyini Revealed

Hello Friends!

Over the past months you may have noticed that instead of signing off as Spencer, I have been using the name Suhuyini.  What is up with that name?

Suhuyini

Just as all names have a meaning a so does this one, and in the culture of the Dagomba people names are a very important part of who you are. Not just being a title that you go by but with a deeper meaning that truly describes who you are. Children are given names are a celebration a week after their birth by religious leaders in the community, complete with the slaughter of a sheep and shaving of the head to make it official. Being an adult did not require a sheep to be slaughtered or my hair to be shaved (dodged a bullet there).

When I first arrived in Karaga I would introduce myself as Spenca (the “r” is not pronounced) but every time I would be asked what my Dagomba name was and I was without one. Two weeks in I was walking with Shurazo out in the fields and we were talking about names, I mentioned I didn’t have a Dagomba name. He looked at me for a few moments, thought to himself, and said, “I know what your name is, you should be called Suhuyini”. I was very greatful to have been given such a beautiful name,  ”What does it mean?” I asked him.

Suhuyini means one heart. That is who I am. It means that I do not hold evil thoughts in my heart for any person. It means that I am open and share my feelings.  It means that I am full of love.

This is who I am in Karaga, I am known to some people as Spenca but for the vast majority of people I am only known as Suhuyini . If I introduce myself as Spenca they ask for my Dagomba name and when I say Suhuyini they smile brightly and forgot any of that Spenca nonsense. It’s a name I really do love, sexy sounding as it rolls off the tongue and therapeutic when I think about the meaning as people call me by it. The feeling to have gone by one name all your life than to be given another is something quite unique, akin to a nickname but one that is not a nickname at all but my true name to those who know me by it.

During my day to day life I strive to live up to being “One Heart”, at times it is easy and at times it can be very hard. On the hard times; taking the time to greet even those who cause me frustrations, not letting in to anger even in the face of lost money, and understanding the realities of the District Assembly officers even when they don’t do at all what I have asked. Today I was called a true northerner as I value greeting people so much, this was a large compliment that definitely had my one heart glowing.

The man the mystery revealed =)

One heart

Suhuyini

PS!! An awesome video of serious dance moves at the Ghana independence day celebrations!

(Spencer) Smiles All About

 Hello friend on this fine friday!

Today I would like to share some of the smiling faces of Ghana, and make no mistake even if the picture is solemn they are smiling on the inside. Its very common to become quite straight faced when your picture is being taken as photos are serious business.

This man insists that I stole his name, Suhuyini, what is with that name anyway? Tune in Monday to find out, along with a summary of the summer among other fun.

Baba preparing some cow skin for the market. The raw skins are put on top of a fire and charred, than the burnt bits are scrapped off. After the skins are hydrated in oil and chopped. I'll be honest, I am not at all of a fan of eating cow skin, it tastes like...well like skin.

Baby Sulu, looking questioningly into my eyes "What on earth is this white boy doing?" Thankful the meaning of his name is patients.

Question: Why is this name so happy?

Don't fret, this boy doesn't smoke. He is fetching the previous mans smokes for him (question answered), and thought he would be the epitome of cool in the photo.

A seriously imposing man, the District Chief Executives son, glaring me down but with smiles in his heart....just as he was smiling moments before and after.

This man is a definite character he always requests a photo and sells me honey straight from the bush hives. His friend in the back is in the process of leaping from the camera frame to avoid a photo, despite this mans excitement. 

Yours truly Spencer Suhuyini, carrying Sulu on my back in the traditional fashion. The ladies didn't think I would be able to do it, and they were half right; my lack of breasts presented a unique challenge of wear the wrapping would hold on me.

An expert tire roller.

Those eyes say it all.

People are the only ones with smiles, dogs need love too!! In his favourite spot, right behind his ears =)

Have a great weekend everyone

I hope to see you all and your smiling faces soon..but not too soon there is still much work to be done here. 

Be well and without ailment

-Suhuyini

(Spencer) Nyegbolo

(Continued from the decision)

Having made the tough decision to move to a new family, this the experiences from the first night in the village along with a few notes added these weeks after the delay in posting.

Nyegbolo

Nyegbolo is 4km from Karaga town and it takes between 30-40min to bike to the village. The bike ride is gorgeous and worth every extra minute that it takes, time will tell if that is still the opinion after 2 months (after taking it for one week I can say it is still wonderful, and I feel much healthier from the exercise). There are 30 households in the village and population of ~700 people. The very large majority of people are farmers at 93% farming and soon to include myself.

Immediately the feel of the village is vastly different from that of Karaga. No shops, no stores, no food venders, pump action borehole instead of mechanized, healthier animals, not packed with people, all traditional mud-hut compound housing, and beautiful open fields lined with Baobab trees all around. The language spoken is Dagbani as the village is also of the Dagomba tribe. There are very few people in the village who can understand any English at all, which is fitting considering it is I who am a visitor in their homeland.

My new host family is 28 people strong, with 12 children under the age of 12. All the compounds in the village have a name so that people can identify where you are from (it is the same in all of Dagbon, the land of the Dagombas). The name my host families compound is named Ca-Chara I Yeena which means that when there is trouble in the village this house will go and sort out the issue between the two parties, the village police. Think of a compound as a collection of one room mud-huts in a general circle shape connected by walls.

First Night

In thanks of my arrival I presented the old man of the house with cola nuts, a Dagomba tradition when meeting an elder. Next, I was taken to the chief of the village to be formally introduced and welcomed into the community; he was presented with very large cola nuts. In honour of my arrival they presented me with a delicious dinner of T-Z and baby pigeon, freshly slaughtered on my arrival. The most interesting meat I have ever eaten, especially after seeing the bird trash about after its head was removed. The first time I think that I have ever seen an animal slaughtered and prepared, it is remarkable how removed we are from the food system in Canada. The Ghanaians I have talked too cannot quite understand the concept of mass production and the sale of meat in Canada; there is nothing Karaga district beside street venders selling fried goat to make any comparison. After stuffing myself I discovered the chief had sent a meal of T-Z to me as a welcome, the children were very happy for the food, it was impossible to eat that much T-Z.

The evening was sent talking with Mohammed who is the brother of my host father, and the only English speaking man in the village. While he spoke my eyes drifted to the star speckled sky free from any light pollution and back down to the traditional compound, everything was in accord.

The Split Summer

This change in living situation presents a shift in community life in many ways. No longer will evenings be spent roaming the paths and streets of Karaga meeting people and experiencing life in a developing town. Instead spent with the host family engaging in what they do in the evening, this includes going to bed for 9pm and getting up for 5:30am.

From my short time so far in the village what is jarring is the lack of the option to use services which have always been taken for granted. They simply aren’t an option as they don’t exist in the village.

• No running water; this was quite true in Karaga town as well but in the village the woman walk quite a distance to the borehole, there is an added guilt of taking a bucket shower as it will mean half a trip to the borehole
• No electricity; perhaps I was spoiled at the DCE’s house…but not having the option to turn on a light, plug something in, or do anything electric is an adjustment. The village is without any mechanized devices or electric work multipliers. Everything is done by hand or with well-designed tools. Battery operated devices such as flashlights and radios are common.
•  No food venders; don’t enjoy T-Z? Tough love. There are no other options in the community as there was in Karaga town. Put a smile on and eat what is available or don’t eat at all.
• Sanitation; I’m quite sure the situation in the village is better than Karaga due to the smaller population however there is only one latrine in the village at the small. The very large majority of the village is going “free range”, when the community led total sanitation team arrives in Karaga this month I will keep tabs.
• Lack of employment; in Karaga there were no jobs available but in the villages there are simply no jobs. Which is why nearly everyone is a farmer but don’t ever underestimate the farmers, they are very intelligent in their field of mastery.

·  

It is an exciting change that hopefully will bring about greater sense of challenges that exist in village life.

Lots of Love

Suhuyini

(Spencer) Big Changes

Hello friends!

Yesterday marked the most difficult day so far this summer.  (Opps! actually 2 weeks ago yesterday, sorry friends forgive me I beg)

After careful consideration I came to a decision to move to a new location within the district for the remainder of the summer. For the past month I had been living with the family of the District Chief Executive in the heart of Karaga town (the DCE is like mayor in Canada but more powerful).  The family and compound where I was staying were fantastic, they treated me great and many laughs were shared together. However something had hung in my mind throughout the duration of my stay; this family was quite well off and lived in Karaga town. This presented a barrier between being able to understand rural poverty at a ground level point.

I have split the post into two parts one going through the decision and the other initial village life.

How the Decision Was Made

An important part of the summer learning’s for both; myself and for what I can bring back to Canada for you Guelph EWB, is the realities of rural poverty. I was certainly learning a lot when staying with this family but it was a stunted learning. Being at the ground level with Dorothy is different when you are living with those most vulnerable instead of seeing it through a window. Learning is going to happen in country that is different from your own regardless but in this case there was the opportunity to push those learning goals into overdrive.

This was where the difficulty came; do I continue living at my current location in Karaga and learn as much as I can? Or. Move somewhere much more rural and experience it first hand? However these were not the only issues to consider. How would my family be perceived by the community after the white person had left them? Was there as much to learn in Karaga as there was in a rural setting, a different set of learning but equally valid? How would the family react to me packing up my bags after a month with them? How will I cope with an upheaval half way through? How will this affect my personal happiness which in term affects the quality of my work? My apprehension was very large about the move.

However despite all the apprehension and all the parts of me that wanted to stay at the DCE’s family home; there was an interesting mental reality going on that knew the entire time I was going to move. In fact I think I knew from the first night I slept in the room they had provided. It was a very nice room (read: very nice), concrete walls, comfortable couches and chairs, lights and power, even a television; a westernized living room by all accounts. It was that first night that I thought before sleep swept over, that I was currently staying in the nicest room in all of Karaga. Whether that thought was true or not, it didn’t matter; all I knew was that the majority of Ghanaians did not live like that.

It was that simple thought the first night that stuck with me despite my best attempts to rationalize the situation and be happy with the opportunity presented. For a while I was resolute in staying at the house, to honour the DCE and push my learning about Ghana in a town-type setting. Indeed happiness was rampant within me and I was learning tons about life in Karaga. There were many conflicting feelings about moving out of the family’s house. Following a conversation with Cat and one with Binnu (my couch), perspectives were challenged and I decided to find a rural location.

My friend in Karaga, Shurazo, set me up with his best friend in the village of Nyegbolo. Last night I moved out my host family’s house with the help of my great friend Baba. Baba is awesome; he is 24 years old just having graduated senior high school and speaks English like a king. We share many laughs including watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail together, which he thought was the funniest movie ever…”they keep saying Nee, Nee hahahaa”. He helped explain to the family the reasons for my leaving and that it was nothing they did but a duty to myself and other to experience and learn as much as possible about life in Ghana. They were very understanding but doubtful I would be able to take life in the village (a common sentiment amongst people who know I am now living there). After many parting good-byes we departed.

I have something to admit. I was reluctant to post directly about the family I was staying with previous for the very reason that I was thinking about finding another location that was more rural. In fact the last week with them I was quite uneasy for I needed to tell District Chief Executive (it is his family’s home I am staying) before I told the family I was moving out but he out of the office all week, and in turn I couldn’t tell the family. It ate me up on the inside know I was leaving but couldn’t vocalize it without offending the most powerful man in Karaga.

In the end the move had to be made after phoning the District Chief Executive and briefly explaining the situation to him. This was not the preferred method of interaction to tell the DCE about the move but with mid-placement retreat looming there was not time to dilly.

Suhuyini

(Continued in next Post)

(Spencer) Riding the Roller Coaster

Hello my friends!

Last weekend I rode the lorry from Karaga to Tamale and I would like to take you along for the ride! (All the photos are first person perspective so imagine yourselves in my position)

In Ghana there are two methods of public transportation:

• Government operated STC and Metro Mass buslines. These buses are of a large coach style, very similar to a Greyhound in Canada but less comfortable. Capacity of 50 seated plus more who maybe standing
• Privately operated Lorrys. Imagine the child of a school bus and a large white van; that child would be a lorry. Ranging capacity depending on the bus, people are packed like sardines; I would guess 15-40. When the inside of the bus isn’t enough there is the roof for people to sit. Other names for a lorry include tro tro and minibus.

The time is 2pm and the sun is beating down high in the sky, the temperature is approximately 30 degrees.  Fortunately, there is nice group of guys who I am waiting for the bus with in their favourite shaded sitting spot. Just past two, the lorry arrives from Gushegu and stops at the rode side. Immediately, it is mobbed by people trying to get on it to Tamale. Before I have even took ten steps all the sitting spots are filled and people are stuffing on the bus to stand. Not the ideal situation. Someone grabs my hand, points up at the roof of the lorry, and says to ride up there.

The roof is where our journey together begins. Climb up the ladder at the back of the lorry and once I set foot on the roof a man, whos name I later learn to be Raphael, calls me to sit right at the front of bus on the roof.  A few moments later the lorry departs from Karaga and starts rolling down the road. Once we are free of the limits of the town the lorry starts ripping down the road at a unbelievable speed.

We are all over the road, making a slow zig zagging pattern. Farmland flanks both sides of the road.

I tried keep this steady but the bus was very bumpy. I don’t know the speed of the bus but it felt terribly fast. Wind was howling past my face and blowing my hair all over. It was now I saw the parallel between riding the top of the lorry and a roller coaster

• Both go very fast 
• Both sway back and forth, though one is supposed to, the lorry because of the bad roads
• Both send wind past your face with such force your pushed back in your seat
• Both scare you silly while you have the time of your life!

Ghana is very green during the rainy season and this is only the beginning of the season. Everything comes into full bloom. Also around this time, Mahafuz, who was the other man sitting beside one made a comment about how good the driver of the lorry was. I thought; if this is good, what is bad?

Passing another vehicle. When asked why ride on top of the Lorry simply quote this image.

Passing through a village which I have been told is named Yamo-karaga. The houses to the left are called compounds. They are series of mud huts that are built in a circular shaped and connected with mud or grass walls. They house entire extended families in one large compound. The piles of wood will be used as fuel for cooking. All the animals are goats which live freely in Ghana that is until they are eaten.

  

A small body of water, what cannot be seen is the crocodiles that are basking in the sun just out of the photo.

Stopped at an intersection in the roadway to Tamale, at Nanton. When the bus stopped, people from the town ran over with food for sale, and I tried some delicious deep fired item. It tasted of onions. Yum

Under the beautiful trees =)

The last village before arriving in Tamale. The bus never let up speed the entire trip unless we were passing through a village with speed bumps. Interestingly this village did not have speed bumps so we ripped through at great speed.

The unexpected twist. We were on the outskirts of Tamale when the bus made a stop, Rapheal said to Mahafuz and me to get off the top.  A few people were unloading from inside the bus, it seemed that we had arrived at the end. Not exactly where I wanted to be in Tamale but I would survive, an expensive cab was sure to be in store.  Instead of the entire bus turning inside out it starting driving away, Mahafuz and I wanted to be on that rogue lorry.

He started running towards it, and I followed. We caught up before it was past our reach and grabbed onto the ladders on the rear. Clinging on for what felt to be dear life we rode the rest of the journey into Tamale hanging to the ladders. Risking life and limb I bring you this =)

Oh yeaaa! The streets just outside of core of Tamale, in the heart of the city the traffic is horrendous.

We arrived at our destination just outside the heart of the city in one piece and treated ourselves to sugarcane. There is a difference between a rollercoaster and a lorry; a rollercoaster is over in a minute while this lasts hours =)

One of the most fun experiences of my life I am sure, thrilling the entire time with a twist ending worthy of M. Night. Shyamalan.

Last stop, everyone out, hope you have enjoyed the ride. 

-Suhuyini

(Spencer) Fear God and Release Him

Astronomy is sexy….

Something unexpected happened last night in the streets of Karaga. It all began around 8pm at which time I was dancing like a fool while a boy played a traditional Dagomba guitar-type instrument, I did my best to get others dancing as well but all the children were much too content at laughing at the white man moving about.  A call came for everyone to come outside, and we cleared out from the room. We were greeted with the Aunties beating on plastic barrel drums and chanting loudly.

“Zom naawuni zagmo bahi”

This is great I thought, we have moved up from me being the dancing spectacle to a full out traditional dance with everyone involved. Round in circles we went chanting and dancing, the children were going absolutely wild. Drums beating and with a huge smile I realized that something more was going on than just a fun dance. A hand pointed me to the sky.

Blood red was the moon and the chanting continued. 

Wait.. What? Blood red?

Just earlier in the evening the moon had barely penetrated the skyline and now it was basked in red. Not a sight that is all too common.  The dancing and chanting continued through my confusion. Soon after someone said to me, “The sun has swallowed the moon”…ah ha! A total lunar eclipse, how had I not understood what I was seeing. Just my luck, something special was sure to happen.

A group of children came marching by, yelling out the chant and beating their drums. Our group run over and we became one slightly larger chanting mob. Moving between the compounds and disturbing everyone. As we moved children came pouring out of compounds to join the group and we became larger and larger. Little did I know how large this would become.

“Zom naawuni zagmo bahi”

Round we went navigating the narrow pathways and passing through fields. In the distance I could hear the beating of more drums and a humming of voices. By this time we were about fifty and more children were joining the march by the minute.  One girl kept telling me that I was very tired and I should go back to house. How wrong she was never was; I was more awake than ever, I couldn’t pass up this crazy march of children towards an event that I had no idea. It was she that was tired but I couldn’t communicate it to her that she should return home herself, I think she just wanted to keep me safe. Sorry to keep you out so late.

As we entered the empty market we crossed paths with another group of children headed a different direction. BAM BAM BAM went the drums as they passed by and the chanting from our groups feed on each other. Where were they going? Should we join them? What is really going on?  We continued our path drawing the youth to join the crowd.

We encountered another marching group chanting as they went past; we joined their ranks and in bolstered form started a path to the main road of Karaga. My friend Latifa caught sight of me and ran over, laughing histarically that I was part of the childrens procession. With a little coaxing she joined as well and fun times were had. The beating of drums grew louder, chanting bellowed, screams could be heard; we entered the main roadway.

“Zom naawuni zagmo bahi”

A sea of parading children was all that could be seen stretching both ways to the horizon. All of them chanting together, banging on drums, pulling noisy objects and having a ridiculous time. We were swept up in the charge down the street.  Latifa yelled to me, “The sun has eaten the moon, the sun should fear God and let the moon go”….ah haaa, the children want the moon to be free and are making all this noise so that the sun will let the moon go.  Than the running began.

By the time we reached the edge of Karaga a thunderous noise could be heard quickly approaching and there was screaming all over. The children had started running down the street and if not to run as well it would have surely been foolish.  About turn and like a herd of buffalo or in the case of the Lion King wildebeests (more Disney nights next year =0 ) the herd charged back and forth, all the while chanting and making all the noise humanly possible.

By now children from all end of Karaga have congregated in the great parade. I would estimate that there was between 1500 to 2000 children (youth) out on the street at this moment. A red moon eclipsed by the sun hung in the sky, it was absolute pandemonium.

“Zom naawuni zagmo bahi”

Back and forth on the main road this continued for quite some time. How could anyone be speaking in all of Karaga? The noise was tremendous.  Soon I was exhausted and sweaty beyond belief (why had I not changed out my work clothes!?), regardless there was cause for celebration! The sun had released the moon! A single solitary sliver of silver moon gleamed in the sky! Success! The past hour plus had not been in vain, we had scared the sun from the moon. Light would return to the night. Celebration!

The parade changed course and made its way back into the housing/compound area of the town.  The congregation made a winding path around Karaga as we went children peeled off to their respective homes. Still though the drums and chanting continued, we didn’t want the sun to get any ideas and sneak back up on that poor moon while we relaxed!

Half an hour later we rounded the last bend to my home compound…home at last. A night of crazy children and parading had come to an end; I had never seen anything like this in Canada. An event like no other; late at night, no supervising adults, self-organizing, full of traditional superstition, dancing, chanting, and so much happiness from everyone it was palpable.  What other surprises await?

A last beat on the drum, a farewell, and to my bed I collapsed.

“Zom naawuni zagmo bahi”

-Suhuyihi

Later:

I found out that the eclipse lasted 100 minutes and was the longest since the year 2000, thank goodness we were there to wrench the moon from the belly of the sun!

The translation:

Zom naawuni zagmo bahi

Fear God and release him