Happy Birthday, Ghana!

On March 6, 2008 Ghana turned a youthful 51. Last year was a bigger celebration, no doubt, but the country still feels encouraged by each year of peace and unity. This is especially important considering how many other African nations are struggling to stay together and maintain democracy at the moment. I watched the beginning of the ceremonies on TV as I was informed that people who want to sit in Independence Square had to arrive by 6am. An early morning was not on my agenda for the holiday. I did have plans with another NAFTI student to go to a beach near Accra, but told him that I would not be ready before 10am. On TV, Ghana’s President Kufuor gave his final Independence Day speech. He like President Bush is serving his eighth and final year at the moment. In addition to the President, several schools performed marches and dances and many military personnel greeted the crowds.

After meeting up with the student, Michael and his friend, Jabba, we grabbed a tro tro to the beach. Fortunately it took us by Independence Square and since it wasn’t too crowded we opted to jump out and take a look around. There were vendors lining the street selling everything from ice cream to singing bird figurines. There were also many armed military and police officers. I think an AK-47 bumped into me in the crowd. The square was quite full of tanks and marching students. They do a march that sees the arms swing close to the body but far apart from each other, almost to a 180 degree angle. All students in Ghana wear school uniforms and the uniforms are unique to each school. As a side note, school is free and compulsory here, but the mandatory uniforms are not free and end up being a barrier to attending school for many of Ghana’s poorest children. Scholarships exist, but there are not enough. Other than seeing the square occupied for the first time, little was happening. There was however a great enthusiasm in the air for the celebration and Ghana pride was exhibited throughout the crowd.

We exited the square as the activities were wrapping up and headed to Osekan Resort. The large and winding restaurant, not really a resort at all from how I define one, was carved into the side of cliffs overlooking the Atlantic. A few people were there drinking Guiness. I am less and less surprised now to see Ghanaians drinking a beer at 10 in the morning. It was about 12:30, so it was better, but it still felt early for Guiness. The guys I was with ordered the local beer and I conservatively chose pineapple juice. Crabs walked around on the rocks in front of us and we could see fisherman out in the distance. Tuesday is the only forbidden day to fish, so most go out every other day of the week, even holidays. At one point we saw one jump overboard and swim around his boat, apparently too cool off from a long, hot day on the water. Michael struck a conversation with a girl sitting next to us and invited her over. Rita, my newest Ghanaian friend, ended up being a great addition to the group. She told us about her masters program in computer science and how much she loved working with computers. She is also one of the first athletes I have met here. She plays volleyball at the school, but likes to run to stay in shape. We went on a couple of walks around the restaurant and she showed me the cave the people used for shelter and explored the other side of the resort that had steps down to an abandoned pontoon. The guys stayed behind to spend more time chilling. Jabba told me how much he liked Benin because they know how to “chill” there, much more so than Ghana. I was impressed that anyone could relax better than Ghanaians and still get things done. As far as I could tell, Ghanaians are pretty good and enjoying the moment, enjoying the setting and not looking for or needing anything more.

A live band was to start playing at 4 and, although I was tired again – the heat really takes a lot out of you here – I wanted to persevere to watch live music for the first time here. I tried not looking at my watch to see the minutes tick by and tried to focus on looking out at the water and the interesting cliff shrubs. By 6:15 though, I started setting deadlines for when I wouldn’t wait any longer. It was one of those situations though where you feel like you have already waited so long you might as well keep waiting, so I just stayed. Finally a rasta guy ran out swinging his dreadlocks around. He was joined by another man, a young boy, one man who walked with his hands and dragged his legs behind him, and a muscular man walking with crutches. It seemed like an eclectic mix for a band, but I was just happy they were starting. Each man or boy took turns dancing and doing acrobatics. I realized that this is something I have seen before. Groups from other parts of Ghana travel around and do these performances for money. Their dance moves are Cirque du Soleil like with astounding demonstrations of flexibility – to the point where I cringe and turn away – and partner flips – where two men hold onto each other’s ankles and flip head over feet several times. This dance troupe was also very into pelvic thrusts which also made my prudish eyes want to look away. That was the signature move of the man who walked on his hands and he was able to draw loud applause from the audience whenever he made those motions.

As part of the finale, the dreadlocked dancer lit several torches, ran around with them and teased the audience with nearly putting them into his mouth. He went looking for a volunteer from the audience and, as luck would have it, stopped in front of me. It wasn’t really a volunteer situation since he didn’t seem to want to accept my refusal. There I was, up on stage with a Rastafarian holding lit torches. When I finally composed myself, I realized he was dancing with me, well really with my leg since he was quite low to the ground. I raised my arms up and sort of moved them around to simulate dancing. And, of course, he wanted to do more pelvic thrusts, so as we stood side by side he did his back and forth movements and I opted for the more Western side to side hip movements. He gave me two to hold while he put one on his tongue. He really wanted me to look close at his mouth to prove to the audience that he was really touching the fire to his tongue. He really picked the wrong person for this task. I watched him though and he definitely put it on his tongue and then he shoved it down his pants too, which I didn’t understand. I got to see his tighty-whities catch on fire momentarily. It was all pretty crazy, but everyone gave me a nice supportive round of applause afterwards. I even heard a few comments that I “can really dance for a white girl.”

The band we had all waited for finally appeared to be set up enough to do sound checks, but as the sound checks continued well past 8 o’clock, we decided to forget it and head home. It was a nice way to celebrate Ghana’s big day. I feel like I got to see the best of Ghana and perhaps Ghana got to see the best of me too.