Hello to All!
The purpose of this post is twofold: to offer a concise update on my status in Ghana (more explanation/detail will follow in a post to come) and to preface THE"OBRUNI'S LESSON post below this one.
So I shall start with the update. First, I apologize for the long gap in communication. The internet at the cafe that I frequent has been down since Saturday, and so I haven't been able to even think about blogging. But alas, here I am. Tying, typing, typing. I officially started the volunteer work that I will be doing for the duration of my time in Africa this week. I am a teacher at Mabooni Prison No. 1 Junior High School. I am teaching both English (language and composition) and Mathematics (Geometry). I expected to be a student teacher - help teachers grade work, help tutor students that need extra help, and maybe teach the occasional lesson when the teacher is tired or if I'm feeling really courageous one day! However, the school lost its English teacher the week before school started, and the math teacher has a history of not showing up for random lessons. So my I am essentially a full-time teacher. Initially - and a little still to be honest - I was overwhelmed. I am confident in my abilities; however, I have no professional teaching training, nor am I certified in anyway, nor do I speak the native tongue fluently. However, this is the situation I have been placed in, so I will do my best. The kids are great. The call me "Obama's child", "Mr. Kobi" (the name given to a Tuesday born male - as I am), and want to hear all about American culture, sports, and life. I realize that with hard work, patience, and a spirit of inclusion (vs. isolation) that I have much to be excited about.
The post below is a stream of consciousness of a lesson I have learned since being in Ghana regarding "Friendship." I acknowledge and concede that I am very young and not an authority on life lessons. However, I feel it will be a nice break - from the monotony of my daily happenings - to tell you about something dear to me: my new friends. The post is a recording of the stirrings of my heart. I am not under the impression that I have infinite wisdom, and I do not intend to barrage anyone with aphorisms. This post is just a window into my mind and heart, and unveils what I think of five very new and important people in my life, my new friends. I hope you enjoy the account...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
THE OBRONI'S LESSON
THE OBRONI’S LESSON
Three nights ago my young adventure in Ghana took down an unexpected, yet eye-opening course. We – Cole, Aria, Jessica, Kathleen, and I – had just finished another scrumptious, spice-filled Ghanaian dinner and were debating over what we should do next. It was still fairly early – about 6:50 PM on the calm evening of Friday September 4, 2009 – so we all decided to come to Cole and my room to hang out for a bit. When we got to the room we all dispersed to our own space. I went to my territory – the bed against the windows. Cole went to his bed. Aria sat in the chair closest to the windows. And Kathleen and Jessica were content with sitting on the floor. However, that is all really neither here nor there. What is really important – and is, in my mind, the most life-changing event so far during our time in Ghana – is the unplanned, genuine conversation that was to play out over the next four hours. The conversation began in a very innocuous, normal manner. However, it soon took a turn to a very thought-provoking exchange of knowledge, belief, faith, and convictions.
As I remember it, it all started when we were talking about our time (9 months to be) in Ghana, the people we hoped to serve, and the lives we hoped to impact. Cole came to the self-realization that in the grand scheme of the universe and over the long history of time, nothing we really do here (in Africa) matters. We will all do a great deal of good, and we all hope to be a force of positive influence. But who’s to say that these things will matter or maintain any lasting, measurable influence when we pass away? The majority, if not all, of us did not share nearly as cynical a view as Cole did. Although, it should be noted that to him that view is probably not cynical at all. He just accepts that that is the way life is and always will be, and we must deal with it – and make the best of it.
Our conversation soon expanded. What began as a fairly simple discourse over differing philosophical views soon grew to a raw, honest, and intellectual exchange of each of our religious, life, and world views. I found out that Jessica is a fervent believer in Christ. So much so that she has dedicated her life to living in a way that is in complete submission and unison with the will of her Heavenly Father. I admire this belief. I have no doubt that God will continue to reveal himself to her as she lives for Him in a radical way. Aria left the conversation early because she was exhausted. She is also, unequivocally, the most dedicated journaler (not a word but I am making it one for the sake of convenience because this blog gives me creative liberty) in our group, and I trust that she was returning to her room for a sound period of personal reflection time. Despite her relative silence, I could tell that Aria was pensive. She has some definite, strong convictions but just needs to feel that the timing is right, and then she will let them be known. She made it clear that she too is a Christian. Kathleen said she is a Christian. Although she conceded that she is definitely searching and always open, tolerant, and eager to hear different schools of belief. Kathleen is a vivacious girl, and she really kept the conversation in a state of constant motion with her inquisitive spirit and willingness to share. Cole is my boy for life (I just had to put that down in writing; now it’s documented and official). Cole admitted that he does not align himself with any single line of faith. However, he too seems to be a person who is constantly searching and always yearning to understand and know more. He is an extremely talented individual, and the Lord has blessed him with brightness of intellect. As we talked I noticed that the five of us were all at different stages in our lives. And that our beliefs and who we are as individuals is a result of the sum of all of our experiences. These differing experiences have led us all down different paths and caused us to believe different things. However, despite many routes, we have all arrived at the same transitory destination: Here, together in Ghana, West Africa.
As we all talked together, I realized that the lesson within our conversation was not to be found in who was right or wrong. Or in who could put together the most intellectual case for his/her argument. Or in whether or not we could even come to a consensus. The lesson was in the fact that we are five unique people with a common strip of time together – a time to be shared as Friends. I remember hitting an emotional and mental low-point on Thursday August 27 during Bridge Year Orientation at Princeton. I must be honest. I did not feel as though I initially “clicked” with the four other people that were to accompany me to Ghana. I felt like we were just five dissimilar freshmen who were forced to be together for no other reason than we were the five chosen by the Princeton Bridge Year board to go to Ghana. I didn’t feel a common bond, shared interests, or a sense of compatibility. I remember thinking to myself: “I would never become friends with these people on my own. We are only dealing with each other out of obligation and convenience, and that is not true friendship. However, following two full days of travel, shared sickness, collective embarrassment brought about by an innumerable amount of Twi faux pas, and one captivating and eye-opening conversation, I realized how dismally erroneous I was! The problem was not in the four new people I had just met. I was my own problem. I had left my mind back in Charlotte, North Carolina while my body was preparing to go to Ghana, West Africa. And this had caused me to isolate myself, leaving me unapproachable and closed off to new friendships. I realized that my best friends at home will always be there because those friendships are real, passionate, and built on the immovable foundation of fun, laughter, trust, and forgiveness. This is what gave me confidence to move forward. I needed to be open to meeting new people, new friends. I needed to prepare myself for instantaneous friendships. Relationships based on possibilities rather than probabilities. We (the five of us) know our time together will be brief, even momentary. We value the time we do spend together. We spill our guts. We listen attentively. We’re acutely aware of the fleeting but intense nature of our comradeship. By virtue of being five volunteers temporarily on the same route, in the same space, we share a commonality that rises above our country of origin, above the medley of language and cultural barriers. I think of how I was right: These are friends I never would have met if we had not traveled. And that is precisely why I am so proud, thankful, and blessed to be where I am – with these people. We are five “Obronis” struggling well with life together. I recall when the five of us first met. Did we know immediately that we would be friends? Could we have formed a friendship if we had met at home? I realized that this was all inconsequential. That lesson does not lie within the answers to these questions. The lesson lies in the fact that we are all “Obronis” – grateful four our traveling friendship. It is a shame that it took me this long, and I had to come to Ghana, West Africa to figure this out. But perhaps that is what makes my new friends so special. I guess you could call it: THE OBRONIS LESSON…
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Twi 101, Drum Lessons, and TRO-TROs!
Maa ha o!
Hello my friends! "Maa ha o" means "good evening" in Twi (it is evening in Ghana as I type this blog post). I have been taking Twi classes for four days now. Before leaving for Ghana I made it my ambitious goal to become fluent in Twi. However, the more I come to know about the language and its intricacies, the more I come to accept that it's okay to be young and dream, but the odds of me becoming fluent are slim-to-none. Twi is a tonal language. This is very different from English and is not in any way proximal to any of the romance languages. I have never encountered a language like this before. By simply changing the pitch of your voice, you can completely change the meaning and/or tense of the word. Sometimes one word can mean up to five different things depending on the tone one uses when speaking. Since language instruction, I have modified my once lofty goal of becoming fluent in Twi. Each day I become a little less ambitious, but more realistic. After day-1 my goal was no longer to become fluent, but proficient. Now, after day-4, my goal is to become competent. I continue to learn more and more each day and am met with nothing but patient and helpful ears by the locals when I speak with them. My first true test of my Twi "competency" came on only my second day in Ghana. Yao, our program director, borrowed the script from the "Amazing Race." He split the five of us into two grous: one group of two and one group of three. I was in the group of three with Aria and Jessica. Yao took us in a taxi to the Accra Arts Center. The Arts Center is about a thirty minute drive from the hostel with which we're staying. Once we got to the Center Yao gave us some instructions. We were to tour the Arts Center - which is essentially an open street market full of dancing, music, and selling of various cultural goods. We were to spend two hours there; observe the activities; talk to the locals; and buy ourselves a memento. Then we were to find our way back to the hostel - by OURSELVES. I am a man of very modest travel experience, so I say with complete sincerity that I was very nervous as to how we would fair. Accra is the largest city in Ghana. It has a population of roughly 3 million people. There are no street names. And although English is the nation's official language, the locals only speak it when they have to (i.e. in school or when a foreigner has only been in Ghana for one day and needs directions on how to get around). Despite these apparent challenges, I found comfort in a few things. Ghanaians, by-and-large, are a gracious, kind people. They are willing to help and love it when foreigners take the time to ask them about their culture. Also, I was with two very smart girls. We had each other, and that in itself was comforting. We were three young Americans ready to explore; ready to fail; ready to learn; and ready to struggle well with life together...
As we started walking through the market we were approached by a flock of solicitors. Some were salesman, craftsmen, musicians, athletes. But they all had a product, a story, and were curious about what it was like in America. I personally took to a group of three men: Ishmael, David, and Ebenezer. They were all drummers from Tamali (a city in Northern Ghana). They offered to give the three of us drum lessons. We figured this would be the perfect way to not only learn about the culture, but to also "experience" the culture. So we went to their tent, and for over an hour we learned about the songs, beats, and rhythms of the Tamali people. At first I was frustrated because I did not grasp the drumming immediately. However, I remained patient. Ebenezer told me to sing the song with him and to focus on the tempo of the song, not on the science or pattern of my drumming motions. I sang and observed as he showed me what he wanted me to do. Within ten minutes I had it down.
Hello my friends! "Maa ha o" means "good evening" in Twi (it is evening in Ghana as I type this blog post). I have been taking Twi classes for four days now. Before leaving for Ghana I made it my ambitious goal to become fluent in Twi. However, the more I come to know about the language and its intricacies, the more I come to accept that it's okay to be young and dream, but the odds of me becoming fluent are slim-to-none. Twi is a tonal language. This is very different from English and is not in any way proximal to any of the romance languages. I have never encountered a language like this before. By simply changing the pitch of your voice, you can completely change the meaning and/or tense of the word. Sometimes one word can mean up to five different things depending on the tone one uses when speaking. Since language instruction, I have modified my once lofty goal of becoming fluent in Twi. Each day I become a little less ambitious, but more realistic. After day-1 my goal was no longer to become fluent, but proficient. Now, after day-4, my goal is to become competent. I continue to learn more and more each day and am met with nothing but patient and helpful ears by the locals when I speak with them. My first true test of my Twi "competency" came on only my second day in Ghana. Yao, our program director, borrowed the script from the "Amazing Race." He split the five of us into two grous: one group of two and one group of three. I was in the group of three with Aria and Jessica. Yao took us in a taxi to the Accra Arts Center. The Arts Center is about a thirty minute drive from the hostel with which we're staying. Once we got to the Center Yao gave us some instructions. We were to tour the Arts Center - which is essentially an open street market full of dancing, music, and selling of various cultural goods. We were to spend two hours there; observe the activities; talk to the locals; and buy ourselves a memento. Then we were to find our way back to the hostel - by OURSELVES. I am a man of very modest travel experience, so I say with complete sincerity that I was very nervous as to how we would fair. Accra is the largest city in Ghana. It has a population of roughly 3 million people. There are no street names. And although English is the nation's official language, the locals only speak it when they have to (i.e. in school or when a foreigner has only been in Ghana for one day and needs directions on how to get around). Despite these apparent challenges, I found comfort in a few things. Ghanaians, by-and-large, are a gracious, kind people. They are willing to help and love it when foreigners take the time to ask them about their culture. Also, I was with two very smart girls. We had each other, and that in itself was comforting. We were three young Americans ready to explore; ready to fail; ready to learn; and ready to struggle well with life together...
As we started walking through the market we were approached by a flock of solicitors. Some were salesman, craftsmen, musicians, athletes. But they all had a product, a story, and were curious about what it was like in America. I personally took to a group of three men: Ishmael, David, and Ebenezer. They were all drummers from Tamali (a city in Northern Ghana). They offered to give the three of us drum lessons. We figured this would be the perfect way to not only learn about the culture, but to also "experience" the culture. So we went to their tent, and for over an hour we learned about the songs, beats, and rhythms of the Tamali people. At first I was frustrated because I did not grasp the drumming immediately. However, I remained patient. Ebenezer told me to sing the song with him and to focus on the tempo of the song, not on the science or pattern of my drumming motions. I sang and observed as he showed me what he wanted me to do. Within ten minutes I had it down.
Following the drum lesson, we bought three Ghanaian bracelets from the jewelry maker next to Ebenezer, David, and Ishmael's tent. Our time in the Arts Center was complete, and it was time to find a ride back to the hostel. Since I had only one day of Twi classes under my belt, I asked Ebenezer what the cheapest and surest way to get back to the hostel would be. He told me that I needed to take a Tro-Tro. "They're the cheapest and most widely used means of public transportation here in Ghana," he said. In Ghana, a Tro-Tro is a privately owned minibus. The owner of the tro-tro either employs a driver and an assistant (called a "mate") and gives them a share of the profits, or he rents the vehicle for a daily fee and allows the driver and the mate to keep all of the profits. Most Tro-Tro's are some variation of the old Volkswagen Transporter Buses. They usually have three or four rows of seats with three people in each row (about 9-12 people if you do the math). However, in Ghana, the Tro-Tro drivers manage to fit fifteen people in the bus. The Tro-Tro drivers yell out their end destination in Twi, and it is the rider's responsibility to catch the corresponding Tro-Tro that will take him to his destination. Naturally, being the only male in the group, I was given the responsibility of catching the correct Tro-Tro for the group. It took about twenty minutes before I finally caught the correct one. Not because Ghana has a shortage of Tro-Tro's. Or because there weren't any Tro-Tro's going to our intended destination. It was simply the fact that my novice Twi competency left it difficult for me to clearly hear and understand the destinations that the "mates" were yelling out. Nevertheless, we caught the Tro-Tro that was to take us back to our hostel. Upon boarding the Tro-Tro I asked the "mate" how much a ride to Bani Hostel was (in Twi of course). "Eye sen?" I said. "50 Pesewas sir," he told me. As we talked in Twi I noticed many of the other Tro-Tro riders do a double-take and look at me. I continued to negotiate and talk with the "mate" with the little Twi I knew. Before I knew it, the whole Tro-Tro was yelling: "Obroni! You speak Twi! Speak more to us!" Obroni means "white person" in Twi. It is not condescending in any way. That is simply what they call white people when they see them. And this Obroni was ready to have some fun on the Tro-Tro. "Yedi Onyame ase," I said. Which when literally translated means: "We thank God for our time together." Everyone began laughing and clapping for me. The next fifteen minutes of my Tro-Tro ride consisted of Ghanaians helping me with my accent, teaching me new phrases, and laughing with me as I continually butchered the language with my virgin Twi tongue. As Aria, Jessica, and I got off the Tro-Tro, we were waved goodbye by each of the fifteen other Tro-Tro riders. They wished us well and said, "Yebeshia bio" (We shall meet again)...
As we walked to the hostel I felt both proud and humble. I was proud that three "Obronis" had successfully navigated there way through Ghana's largest city. I was also proud of the way in which we were all able to pick up the African drumming so quickly. And, I was relieved that my novice Twi abilities really weren't an issue once I got over my insecurities because Ghana is a society in which the people locals are nothing but welcoming and gracious to foreigners. Along with this pride came a deep sense of humility - a humility that gave me the realization that I do not know it all. And that no matter how much I read and research on Ghanaian culture, I will never know what it is truly like until I experience it for myself. There is a pervading theme throughout everything that happened during this excursion - whether it be in speaking Twi, learning how to play the Ghanaian drums, or in riding the Tro-Tro. As a foreigner I have been forced to be patient and observe much more than I am used to doing. In America, I have always been encouraged to read a book if I want to know more. Or ask a teacher for a demonstartion if I do not understand. Or ask for directions if I do not know where I am going. However, this is not the way one learns in Ghana. Our Twi instructor told us that Culture is "Caught", not "Taught." One has to "catch" his own lessons and knowledge by going out and experienceing new things for himself. During the drum lesons, Ebennzer did not scientificially instruct me on how to correctly beat the drum and which rhythm to follow. I had to watch, synthesize, and observe on my own. When searching for a Tro-Tro, I had to tough it out for twenty minutes of confusion and frustration before I found the correct one. And when I spoke Twi, I had to be willing to make mistakes and laugh at myself so that I could learn from the natives. I have a feeling that - in this culture - I will learn much more by observing and trying new things with a free-spirit, rather than being told the answers by a teacher or a tourist guidebook. I am only in the beginning of a long nine months. But I am confident. As I move forward I will continue to laugh at myself. Continue to ask questions. And never, never stop oberving...
Globetrotting
Hello to All!
I am sorry for my dismal consistency of communication thus far. I am hoping it will get better, though I can't make any promises. I was not able to exchange my American dollars for Ghanaian Cedi (the local currency) until yesterday. As such, today is the first day that I have been able to buy internet time. But that's neither here nor there. I will now shift my attention from my financial situation to the focus of the message - Globetrotting!
I woke up at 6:00AM on Sunday August 30, 2009 primed for action. The Ghana group was to be that last group to leave campus. First was Peru, which set off at 10 AM. Next was India, which left at 12 PM. Serbia then left at 2. Upon saying the final goodbyes to the Serbian group, I was officially ready to finally catch the 5:15 PM shuttle from Princeton University to Newark Liberty Airport. 5:15 came around and we were off: Cole Freeman, Jessica Haley, Kathleen Ryan, Aria Miles, and myself. We arrived to the airport and proceeded to check our bags. We were to fly British Airways, and the itinerary that Princeton gave us had made it very clear that we were only allowed to check two bags and that each bag was to not exceed 23 Kg (51 pounds) in weight. I like to consider myself fairly self-aware, so as I walked to the stand to check in I knew without a shadow of a doubt - even before placing my bags on the airport scale - that both of my bags weighed more than 23 Kg. Sure enough, one weighed 25 Kg and the other weighed 26Kg. I was the last individual from our group of five to check my bags, and none of my comrades had exceeded the weight limit with either of their bags -- they all actually managed to stay comfortably below it. The British Airways attendant asked me, "Mr. Ricci, do you mind if I ask you something?" "Go ahead," I said. "Sir, you are traveling with three girls and none of them had any problem packing within the given constraints. How were they able to stay within the weight limit and you were not?" I thought for a second: "What would my mama Ricci say?" I went from there. "I'm so sorry; I packed a lot of shoes," I told her. She laughed and said, "With all due respect sir, what do you need five pairs of shoes for? You're going to Africa, not Milan." I was happy to see that she was willing to joke with me and thought that there might be a way I could avoid the $25/bag fee that I was supposed to pay. Being the perceptive boy I am, I noticed that her name tag said that she was from Green Bay, Wisconsin - a Packers fan! I explained to her: "A wise man once said, 'If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail.'" "Vince Lombardi said that! Do you know who he is?" she said. I responded: "My dad is from Milwaukee and bleeds Green through and through, so yes I do know. And as for the shoes, my mom has always said, 'If the shoes fits, buy it in every color.' I guess you could say that I am a man after my parents' own hearts..." The attendant broke out in laughter and kindly told me to not worry about the fee. I had truly been blessed.
Our path to Ghana had two legs - one seven hour flight to London (Heathrow) and then another seven hour flight to Accra, Ghana. Between the two legs we had a six hour lay-over in London. The flight from New Jersey to London was peaceful and involved lots of talking, sharing, and speculating amongst our group as to what the next nine months of our lives were to entail. The second flight was essentially the same. Although, I struck up a conversation with a native Ghanaian who was sitting across the aisle from me. We talked about everything from American Universities, to Tar Heel basketball, to politics. At the end of the flight he informed me that he owned a hotel in Ghana and that I was welcome to stop by any time for a bite to eat at the hotel grill on him. I thanked him for his graciousness, and he wished me the best for my stay in Ghana.
After fourteen hours of flying; tactfully dodging a baggage fee in Newark; being forced to unpack, show, and repack my passport five different times in London; and making my first Ghanaian friend, I had landed. As I stepped off the plane I noticed a large, illuminated sign that said "Akwaaba" ("Welcome"). I had arrived. We had all arrived. The five "globetrotters" had arrived.
I am sorry for my dismal consistency of communication thus far. I am hoping it will get better, though I can't make any promises. I was not able to exchange my American dollars for Ghanaian Cedi (the local currency) until yesterday. As such, today is the first day that I have been able to buy internet time. But that's neither here nor there. I will now shift my attention from my financial situation to the focus of the message - Globetrotting!
I woke up at 6:00AM on Sunday August 30, 2009 primed for action. The Ghana group was to be that last group to leave campus. First was Peru, which set off at 10 AM. Next was India, which left at 12 PM. Serbia then left at 2. Upon saying the final goodbyes to the Serbian group, I was officially ready to finally catch the 5:15 PM shuttle from Princeton University to Newark Liberty Airport. 5:15 came around and we were off: Cole Freeman, Jessica Haley, Kathleen Ryan, Aria Miles, and myself. We arrived to the airport and proceeded to check our bags. We were to fly British Airways, and the itinerary that Princeton gave us had made it very clear that we were only allowed to check two bags and that each bag was to not exceed 23 Kg (51 pounds) in weight. I like to consider myself fairly self-aware, so as I walked to the stand to check in I knew without a shadow of a doubt - even before placing my bags on the airport scale - that both of my bags weighed more than 23 Kg. Sure enough, one weighed 25 Kg and the other weighed 26Kg. I was the last individual from our group of five to check my bags, and none of my comrades had exceeded the weight limit with either of their bags -- they all actually managed to stay comfortably below it. The British Airways attendant asked me, "Mr. Ricci, do you mind if I ask you something?" "Go ahead," I said. "Sir, you are traveling with three girls and none of them had any problem packing within the given constraints. How were they able to stay within the weight limit and you were not?" I thought for a second: "What would my mama Ricci say?" I went from there. "I'm so sorry; I packed a lot of shoes," I told her. She laughed and said, "With all due respect sir, what do you need five pairs of shoes for? You're going to Africa, not Milan." I was happy to see that she was willing to joke with me and thought that there might be a way I could avoid the $25/bag fee that I was supposed to pay. Being the perceptive boy I am, I noticed that her name tag said that she was from Green Bay, Wisconsin - a Packers fan! I explained to her: "A wise man once said, 'If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail.'" "Vince Lombardi said that! Do you know who he is?" she said. I responded: "My dad is from Milwaukee and bleeds Green through and through, so yes I do know. And as for the shoes, my mom has always said, 'If the shoes fits, buy it in every color.' I guess you could say that I am a man after my parents' own hearts..." The attendant broke out in laughter and kindly told me to not worry about the fee. I had truly been blessed.
Our path to Ghana had two legs - one seven hour flight to London (Heathrow) and then another seven hour flight to Accra, Ghana. Between the two legs we had a six hour lay-over in London. The flight from New Jersey to London was peaceful and involved lots of talking, sharing, and speculating amongst our group as to what the next nine months of our lives were to entail. The second flight was essentially the same. Although, I struck up a conversation with a native Ghanaian who was sitting across the aisle from me. We talked about everything from American Universities, to Tar Heel basketball, to politics. At the end of the flight he informed me that he owned a hotel in Ghana and that I was welcome to stop by any time for a bite to eat at the hotel grill on him. I thanked him for his graciousness, and he wished me the best for my stay in Ghana.
After fourteen hours of flying; tactfully dodging a baggage fee in Newark; being forced to unpack, show, and repack my passport five different times in London; and making my first Ghanaian friend, I had landed. As I stepped off the plane I noticed a large, illuminated sign that said "Akwaaba" ("Welcome"). I had arrived. We had all arrived. The five "globetrotters" had arrived.
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