Conclusion on Mediums

Not only was the avatar, or perspective I chose to see my experience in, important to my project on the authenticity of experience in Ghana, but the mediums I chose to record it in.  The avatar and the medium were equally responsible for the representation I came up with.  After my experience, I think that there are certain avatars that work better with certain mediums.  If you are someone who relates to one more than another, then considering those recommended mediums could be beneficial.

First, for all students or travelers interested in going out into the field I recommend a jotting notebook and a diary.  A jotting notebook because our memories are just too fragile, and you can lose important information as well as a viable medium, and a diary because there will always be something you want to express that isn't field note appropriate.  

Ava- The Romantic Anthropologist- This avatar was the student avatar.  Having an academic approach with course contracts, books, etc for this experience was great for me, but I realize that might not be for everyone.  I felt like I got more out of it having had that mindset.  To me, it did not feel forced, and it helped me stay positive when dealing with culture shock and some of the other things that come with integrating into a new community.  If you are someone who relates to her, I found that typed field notes were better than handwritten field notes.  I had a lot more notes when I was using a computer. 

Conclusions

This summer I set out to Ghana with an idea.  An experiment.  A crazy out there theory based project that I struggled to describe in one single sentence.  I wanted to know more about the nature of experience and the authenticity of travel documentation.  It was frustrating to see how European explorers like Henry Morton Stanley and Joseph Conrad had contributed to the stereotype of a “dark continent” of Africa based off of their limited interpretations of their experiences.  As a writer myself, I understand the desire to experience and the need to try to express these experiences as a personal kind of truth.  Still, how often do we consider the nature of how we experience a world foreign to ourselves, or the “truthfulness” or consequential effects of these accounts in regards to their cultural authenticity?  Whether these truths are more “truthful” than what really happened, we could find a copious amount of arguments stemming as far back as Aristotle’s Poetics, but truth was not what I was questioning here.  I was more interested in authenticity.   These questions were the fuel of my project proposal.  A lot has happened since I wrote my objectives, but I have been pleased to see that my project was a success.  Our experiences are indeed significantly subjective based on the way we see the world and the mediums we chose to record it in. 

Gipsy- The Postmodern Traveler/Writer Avatar

In order to look at the true nature of experience during my stay in Ghana I decided to look not only at how the medium I recorded in impacted my experience, but also at how the way I saw dictated it.  I divided different aspects of my personality into five avatars to show these differences.  Gipsy was my favorite of my avatars, being something between a postmodern traveler and a writer.  I think like her most of the time, and so it came easy.  Being Gipsy meant that I could be open with my thoughts, liberal in my themes, and creative with my descriptions and comparisons.  As a writer, this avatar could make sense of the experience by reaching into my past. My goal was to have something of a Virginia Woolf style and more stream of conscious.  I think in the field note process it meshed into Ava, but having more of that tone would definitely be something I implement if I were to do this project again.  It allowed me to be more personal and less conscious of some of the taboos you run into with judgment calls in ethnography. 

Pros:

1. Culture Shock- Dealing with jarring situations and encountering the cultural other could be fun with Gipsy.  Her writings are more accessible to someone from my paradigm, and so are probably easier to relate to (FN:7:19, FN:8:13). 
2. Physical Conditions- Being sick was something I pawned off on Gipsy, allowing me to be open and honest that drinking bad water is not fun, and there is little to romanticize like Ava would.  I also fleshed out my Larium dreams (lucid dreams caused by my anti malarial medicine) and talked about some of the other strange side effects that the pills gave me (FN:9:6, FN:18:1, FN:21:1, FN:28:1-5, FN:67:1, FN:78:8).
3. Honesty- Being Gipsy allowed me to be personal and less conscious of some of the taboos you run into with judgment calls in ethnography.  My classic example for this was a poem I wrote in the field that I ended up feeling really bad about.  There are just some things you cannot explain on a surface level when you are being a romantic anthropologist like Ava, so these two avatars would fight from time to time.  However, as a writer I was able to be more honest about my initial impressions without worrying too much.  This could make it more entertaining to read as well (FN:25:1, FN:29:1-2, FN:36:2, FN:40:1, FN:54:1-2, FN:70:1, FN:71:1, FN:78:4, FN:83:3).

Ava- The Romantic Anthropologist Avatar

As part of my field study project on the authenticity of experience, I looked not only at how different mediums of recording impacted my research, but also on the way I chose to see.  These different lenses I tried on I called avatars, or different parts of my personality that mediated the way I viewed what I was experiencing.  Having Ava, my romantic anthropologist, as an avatar was a life saver.  Being a student, and a clueless twenty something American who knew little about Ghana, this avatar allowed me to be romantic about my adventures and descriptive in my notes as I went along.

As an avatar, Ava was fairly straight forward and was probably the most stable of my avatars.  She underwent the least amount of evolution in the field.  Here are some of the things I learned as I saw through her eyes during my experience.

Pros:

1.  Romantic Spin- Like my "good things that happened today" journal, trying to be Ava helped me see my experience in a more romantic light.  By trying to see through that lens I was prone to have a better day, dealt with culture shock better, and handled different situations with more grace than an avatar like Gipsy (FN:7:18, FN:8:13, FN:17:1, FN:21:10, FN:23:1, FN:83:1, FN:84:3)
2. Productive- I got many more pages of field notes by far with Ava.  I found that being her was best in busy situations or when I was at school.  Whenever I was a student, this was the best choice of avatar to experience that moment, especially when coupled with some good jots (FN:18:17, FN:18:23, FN: 22:1, FN:22:321, FN:23:31, FN:27:1, FN:27:25, FN:62:32, FN:62:37, FN:69:1).
3. Observations- Since Ava is supposed to be more of anthropologist, I also recorded much more observations.  Some of them might not have seemed important at the time, but the actions of people and the things that they said could potentially have a lot of value looking back someday.  It also helped me be more aware of how to handle social situations (FN:17:3, FN:27:28).

A Ghanaian Funeral: Part 3

Burial:

Funerals are a huge deal in Ghana. There are many rules and regulations because tradition says that the dead watch over the living to make sure they are fulfilling their family responsibilities. Here is a brief background surrounding the funeral process.

If there is more than one death in a family, the oldest must be buried first, no matter how long someone else might have been dead. Bodies can be preserved by keeping them on ice. This insures that the family can have funeral clothes made and make the funeral preparations. It is a very expensive process, but of utmost importance in society.

Children under the age of eighteen are not given funeral rites. It is believed that if you perform a funeral for a child that the spirits will come back and take another child.

After a death, the spirit is believed to hang around for about forty days. Traditionally the family would have to sleep in the same room as the corpse, but with westernization many of these things are changing. Today most people still wear mourning clothes and eat only light foods forty days following the death of a close family member.

The burial is held before the funeral. The body is carried in a taxi with a parade of family members and friends behind it. This part of the funeral is more personal and private than the large funeral where the entire community is invited. As people follow the taxi they should cheer and dance, celebrating the life of the person lived. Some weep, and the sorrow is still present even though it is not readily apparent with a brief glance. While the burial is performed, the widow goes off and breaks a pot to signify that the marriage is over.

I cannot help but admire the funeral rites of Ghanaians. I think there is something to this celebration that they keep keying into. Death is inevitable, but what of the blessing that person was in this world and the happiness we shared with the loved one? Walking back from the burial I ran into Danielle. She turned to me and asked, “What is the party for?” I hope someday mine will be similar, and that someone else too could respond, “It is a funeral.”

Love,
Ava

(Field Notes 17.13, 24.3-10, 34.10-18, 87.6 Picture Files 0605)

Adowa: A Ghanaian Funeral Dance

The honoring of the dead is an important part of all cultures, but it is particularly elaborate among the Ghanaians. With a lot of help from the students at Okomfo Anokye, I was able to learn some of the Adowa, or the funeral dance of Ghana. It is said to be from the Ashanti region, but other regions have adopted it so it is a part of funerals in all parts of Ghana today.

The Adowa is a dance of dignified walking motions and graceful gestures. Mercy, one of the Form 1 students, told me that it is supposed to be imitating the movements of an antelope. She also told me that they perform this dance at Ye Goro Bra, a celebration for young girls when they are going through puberty rites.

What I really liked about this dance was that it involves the entire community. Unlike other ceremonies, the whole community is invited to a funeral. This dance not only provides an outlet of emotion to bereave the death, but it also provides an opportunity to display cultural identity and to show sympathy for the close family and friends. Music making is important traditionally as well as today to show honor to the dead in Ghana.

The Twi Language Guide I Never Had....

You know when they told me that the national language of Ghana was English I think I took that a little too literally. It doesn’t take anyone longer than a day asking for a bathroom to realize that. It is why Danielle has to go by Daniella to not be a boy, why nice actually means pretty, or why I cannot say I like something without wanting it. Even if I was fluent in Twi, translation is more than the conversion of words in a dictionary or sentence structures. There is so much more to it, and here are some of my discoveries during the three months I spent in Ghana.

E=eh sound as in "egg"
)= ow sound as in "odd"

1. Greetings- whether you are a tourist for the day or spending a lifetime in Ghana, greetings are the most important part of social decorum. You must say good morning, "ma kye," good afternoon, "ma ha," and good evening, "ma djo" to everyone you meet, even if you are just buying something at the market. It is considered very rude if you do not greet, especially your elders. To respond, you must say yes mother, or "ya ena," and if a man greets you, say yes father, or "ya eja" in return.

Signs and Symbol in Ghana

After three months of struggling to fit in, I finally left with a better understanding of the written and social symbols in the Ashanti Ghana region. Symbols are very important. Not only do Akan symbols adorn the walls of compounds and the fabrics that they wear, but there are many living cultural symbols as well. This list represents a lot of hard work and a lot of awkward stories prior to cultural competency.

1. Hand Holding- in Ghana this is a sign of friendship. Boys hold hands with boys, and it is not seen as gay or anything like it is here. Couples do not show physical intimacy in public. If you see a boy and a girl holding hands they are probably brother and sister. When someone grabs you hand it means they have taken you as a friend. This was a little hard at first for me to get used to.

2. Handshake, Rubbing Middle Fingers, and Then Snapping- this is the handshake of good friends. It steps away from formalities and shows a degree of closeness. I cannot snap so I could not perfect it, but just trying seemed to suffice. At least it got a few laughs.

3. Handshake With Left Hand- the left hand is the dirty hand in Ghana. Sometimes quite literally in places where they do not use toilet paper. It is very rude to offer a left hand shake or to take anything with your left hand. If someone tries to shake your left hand it means that they are a fetish priest or that they are possessed.

4. Stool- The stool is the symbol of power or the presence of kings and queens. It is found everywhere from on cloth, barbed gates, to the window in my bathroom. To say someone is stooled or has been de-stooled means that they have gained or lost power. The stool can also refer to the golden stool myth associated with the creation of the Ashanti nation.

5. Dreaded Hair- This is a symbol for the fetish priests in the village. If he wears white shells in his hair, it means he is a river priest.

National Musuem, Accra Ghana

Dear friends, family, and whoever ends up reading this,

Museums in Ghana come in various degrees of quality. The Cultural Center in Kumasi, for example, is what our group called a “break from cultural center.” Of all the small museums we visited, the National Museum in Accra was on the better end of the “escape culture” scale. It was also the first when I ever went to.

Your first day in Accra feels like hell. There is no escape, but this delightful building had the allusion of defiance with a fan situated at the entrance. This museum was packed with artifacts and information, and if I had not been suffering from heat exhaustion and in recovery from a 45-hour flight, I might have remembered twelve pages worth of material. However, this is what I found most pertinent.

This was the first opportunity that I had to learn about some of Ghana’s history from a Ghanaian. We had a tour guide named Akousa who was very helpful. The building itself was big with two stories and rooms facing the courtyard with stools, tables, pictures, and palanquins that the late kings had used during his rule over the Ashanti people. The first room Akousa took us to had a picture of Premphe the First with his wife, the Queen Mother, sitting in their royal clothing and headgear. I had heard that Ghana runs on a matriarchal system, but here I was able to learn more about the power and rights and a queen. In this display, the king was sitting on a special golden stool that was given, according to legends, from the heavens. Each new king is given a special stool that symbolizes the rule and reign of the new king. Even the presidential palace today in Accra is in the shape of a stool. The British knew about the Ashanti’s golden stool as well as the myth surrounding it and knew that capturing it would assert the kind of power they wanted over the people. Whoever possessed it was entitled to rule. As a result, a war broke out between the two sides. The Ashanti people refused to give it to the British, and gave them a fake golden stool to make the fighting stop. The British were tricked and went back to England none the wiser.

How to Create Your Own Fabric: Batiking Adinkra Cloth in Ghana

Cloth is the big shopping item in Ghana. It is given as gifts to graduates, new brides, and is the best way to show reciprocity. You do not go to the market to buy clothes; you go to get your own fabric to take to the local tailor. Or, if you are really cool, you can make your own cloth.

Batiking, or stamping fabric known as adinkra cloth, was one of my favorite activities on the mid semester retreat. We learned this traditional craft from a little picturesque shop on the beach at Cape Coast called Emma and Elli’s. These two women were very helpful and friendly, ensuring no one ruined their fabric, and also gave us a group discount! With their help and expertise we were able to design unique fabric patterns of our own.



Here is how it works:

1. Choose a piece of plain cloth the color that you want your design to end up being. The main color of your fabric will change depending on what color you dye it later.

Let the Games Begin!

When you have no TV, a curfew of 6 PM, no electricity, and time to procrastinate daily field notes, you are probably doing what our grandparents used to do—playing games!

Games are an important part of life in Ghana. They help build relationships and are a great way to pass the time together. It was also a great way for us to gain rapport with the locals by having a reason for hanging around. While there are many local games played among children to the elders in Ghana, the two I grew most fond of were Wallie (properly known as Oware) and Dame (pronounced daum-eh).

My Wallie board game from Ghana sits on the end of this desk. It has a giraffe carved in the brown finish, and when you open it has two rows of six holes like a muffin tin, kind of like Mancala if you are familiar with that game. It has a lot of meaning for me, not just because I had to haggle it down like crazy, but also because I can finally beat someone at it.

The first time I played Wallie was with Monica and Kwame. They were very kind and patient, teaching us the rules with as much English as they understood, their friend hanging over our shoulders pointing to the proper move with his machete. Eventually our group got boards of our own and played nightly. Our host family taught us that there are three ways to play

A Goodbye Feast in Ghana

Feasts seem to be as cross-cultural as the human need to eat. The people, entrees, and purposes for celebration vary from country to country, or even family to family, but there are two similarities that I have found between an American Thanksgiving and a Ghanaian farewell dinner. Eat more than you thought possible, and do it in the company of people you have grown to love.

A feast, or serving a meal for someone you care about, is a common event in Wiamoase, Ghana. The meals are typically just one entrée (some kind of a starch with a spicy red sauce or soup), but the celebrations range from having new guests, opening the world cup, celebrating a birth, a wedding, the end of school, a holiday, to saying goodbye a bunch of obruni’s headed back to America.

To me, the most important feast I attended was our groundnut soup farewell dinner with Boakye, the first counselor of the Latter-day Saint branch we attended in Asamong. Some of our group members arrived early, but being guests they were not allowed to help prepare the food. We were allowed to purchase the chicken, the most expensive part of the meal that is never supposed to go wasted, and that was the only way we could contribute.

As soon as the Branch President showed up in his highlighter yellow t-shirt and offered a blessing in broken English (with a striking resemblance to the sacrament meeting prayer), we were able to eat. Two mortar bowls were situated on the outdoor table between the eight of us. To eat, we used our right hands to form bowls with our pinkies, cupping the soup and bringing it to our mouths. I have not yet mastered the etiquette of not dripping soup all over your foot, but with communal eating you are bound to have some causalities. It was the best, or “sweetest” as they would say, groundnut soup and fufu I had the whole summer. Fufu, a dough made out of mashed plantain and cassava, is the signature traditional meal in Ghana. It is also one of the most unique starches as well. You do not chew fufu. You just swallow it.

I thought it was interesting that Boakye’s wife and children did not eat with us at the table, even though they prepared and cleaned it up. That is the traditional way meals are eaten here though. It is just different than what we are used to.

After the meal we sat in a circle and conversed about some of the plants surrounding us. I could not help but admire the mud and stick hut to my right. There was such a strong feeling of home at this place. Children running around, the family together, etc. Thirteen newborn baby ducklings were meandering through our feet, completely unafraid and untouched by a civilized world where we must live in separate spheres. Boakye’s wife brought us out a stick of sugar cane that was cut into pieces for each of us to chew on. That is some kind of desert if you ask me.

The sun was setting into that hour when the air is golden, the shadows are long, and everything is gilded in a yellow halo. It was one of the best feelings I had my entire stay in Ghana, and I was sorry to say goodbye.

Love,
Ava

(Field Notes 38.16, 86.8-13)

"Learn the Names." Name Significance Among the Ashanti

“Akua, Good morning. Ma kye.”

“Ma kye, Ava. Ete sen?”

“By God’s grace, I am fine. I hope you are also doing fine.”

“I am, me da se.”

“Akua, I was wondering if you could lend me some help? It has been some time since I have been in Ghana, and I am noticing that names are very important. I want to get better at them. Can you teach me what I need to know, as a local?”

“Eh! You want to know who be you, eh?"

Okomfo Anokye General Church Service

One of my favorite experiences in Ghana was attending the “General church” service for the Okomfo Anokye Secondary School. I know I already mentioned it once, but I wanted to expand on it. I went on three different occasions, but my favorite was my first time with Shelley. They call it “General Church” because everyone comes from every range of faith, which is very typical in Ghana. Everyone attends church, but most are divided on what one. Our host family was a typical example. All five children attended a different church service than their parents. No matter if you are Christian or Muslim (the two dominant religions in the area), God is an important part of public life in Ghana.

The meeting started at 7, so that involved waking up at five to get ready and walking there for all you nine o’clock church haters. By the time I arrived I was sweaty and dusty, and there was no sign of Michael, who swore he would be at the gate to meet me. We awkwardly stood and waited. Having time to observe, I couldn’t help but notice that everyone was dressed in clean, white Sunday best. I was in my newly made orange dress. I felt like I was wearing tie-dye on a white canvas—as if my skin wasn’t discrete enough. At last, Michael showed up, lead us into the dining hall where the meeting was held, and sat us on the privileged bench at the very front of the room with the prefects and the preachers.

At this point I got out my jot book, something I can always hide behind when I get uncomfortable. I started scribbling down the chain of events to the best that I could follow. Opening chants. Prayer. Dancing. More dancing. Prayer. Preaching, and on like that, but Shelley would not have it. She yanked me from my comfort zone and launched me into the real experience of the meeting by inviting me to dance.

Preliminary Predictions and Where I'm Going From Here...

Well, I am back. Not all the way, but I need to start somewhere. It is time to reel in my five avatars and speak as a slightly less skitso, multiple personality disorder victim, and be just Rachel—a name that started to collect a little bit of dust.

Here is an overview of what I am hoping to do for the rest of my time on this blog and a prediction of what I think I captured before I dive into my notes. Time to decode, interpret, and assign the meaning to a polished, tweaked experience. Ghana in retrospect.

I think that my project was a great success in ways I never anticipated, and the way I see it, I can look at this through two different frames. First, how did my avatar—the way I chose to look at my day—affect my experience, and second, how did the medium I chose to record the experience alter what I captured? Here are my preliminary predictions.

Stars

Hello everyone!

The power has been going out a lot lately, but it brought about a really cool experience. When it is that dark you would not believe the night sky. Our group sprawled out on the concrete one night after dinner and just stared up at the spectacle, mostly silent, just taking in the feelings that come with the closure of an experience abroad. Gipsy and Danielle only gave it a 2 on a scale of ten for spectacular stargazing on account of a few wispy clouds, but Chase and I were convinced it was one of the most beautiful things we have ever beheld. Akua came out to offer us a lantern, unable to see why we were so boggle eyed about the whole thing, and went inside laughing at us. Shelley was—I don’t know, she didn’t say. Just, there.

Love,
Ava

General Church

Hello everyone!

Research is good. Health is great. This week? Awesome.

I think my favorite part was “General Church” service at the secondary school. This church was something like the best sacrament meeting of my life and one of my many high school punk rock concerts. You arrive exhausted, breathe in the music, abandon your inhibitions, and dance!

Of course, I am the backbench kind of church person. I was perfectly content watching, furiously jotting down notes to expand into my field journal. Shelley wouldn’t have it. She yanked me from my seat and threw me into the center of the “mosh pit.” Long ago, I used to be that kid who opened my bedroom window to sing for the neighbors, but that got trampled by a more mature Sunday decorum: Sit Down > Fold your Arms > and be Quiet. Happily, that window singing kid resurfaced in me- reminding me of the days when I didn’t care what I looked like—which is why I think I needed that meeting. The root of “reverent” is the word “revere,” isn’t it? Not to discredit our way of worship, but I can’t help but admire the way these teenagers do it. Not a person sitting, hands flying in the air, a few wailers, some fainters, a soloist with a crackling second-hand microphone, a lot of dancers churning up the crowd, a bongo accompanying the steal drums, an electric keyboard, everyone wearing white, everyone in their own world, and not a soul cared that I am no dancer.

I didn’t have very good notes for that day, but somehow that doesn’t really seem quite as important.

Ava

And We're Back

Hello friends and family!

We are back from an exciting and much needed mid semester retreat. We did everything to sight seeing at Cape Coast, hiking, and canoeing the White Volta, to visiting a waterfall and the monkey sanctuary in Fiema. Now the research resumes.

Things are going really well. I’ve had some great focus groups, and I’ve finally got some friends at school. Michael takes good care of me. Whether he is translating, teaching me how to eat soup with my hands, helping me when I slide off the road (literally), or rallying up a class for my poetry lessons, I can always count on him. I’m getting answers to questions I didn’t even know I had. Even the disappointments have helped my project grow in the right direction.

My only fear now is not getting it all in. I can feel stressed-out-Ava coming back as we are inching closer to the end. I hate goodbyes. I hate that I am thinking about them already, so I won’t dwell on it. School ends at the end of this month, so I’ll put my energies there and the rest will hopefully fall into place.

Ava

Update!

Hello everyone!

Wow it has been such a great week! The project is going well. I’m making friends, and also finding that it is more meaningful and helpful for my research in general to establish that rapport before getting into my research. We celebrated a few birthdays, and the neighbors were kind enough to cook dinner for us all. Both Ghana and the US are going on to the second round in the World Cup, and we are all very excited about our mid semester retreat next week.
London is also creeping up on the horizon. We jotted down a few of the places we want to see. It is hard to believe that in a matter of weeks I will be staying at Cambridge, visiting the pub that C.S. Lewis lectured in, walking the groves where Virginia Woolf contemplated, and watching a play at Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. Nate also delighted us with his oldest sisters love story. She met her British husband on a study abroad in London at a coffee shop, where he asked her about the book she was reading, which happened to be Pride and Prejudice. I’m such a sucker for transatlantic relationships! Anyways, I might have to sit down with a book for a few hours and try my luck at it.

Oh, and next summer I am pretty much sold on India. J

Ava

Ready, Get Set, Go!

Yesterday I decided to check out the secondary school library as a sanctuary from the incessant flirting teachers and frustrations that come with language barriers. I skimmed the skimpy shelves, took inventory, searching for books in Twi. When I failed to find one, I asked the sleeping librarian, “Do you have any books in Twi?”

He pulled his head off the desk, the big “No Sleeping” sign in perfect view behind him, and gave me a blank stare.

“Do you have any books in Twi?” I repeated.

Then his face lit up, he rose, and went straight way to the “Chemistry” shelf, drawing out the book Agricultural Science. A textbook on trees.

I politely sat down and pretended it was what I wanted. The librarian left to weed the back of the building with his machete, and I made eye contact with the only soul in the room. A 16 year old girl named Esther I came to find out. Out on her desk she had a book of poems by Kofi Anyidoho. One of the books on my reading list. She made my day, and maybe my whole field study. Turns out she is a general art student, struggling to understand poetry because literature is not taught at school. We read through the poem “A Harvest of Our Dreams” together. Me, teaching her about symbols, similes, and metaphors, and her, reading the native stanzas, correcting my name pronunciation. It was amazing. She went and grabbed some friends, and we have organized to have my first teaching lesson at 12 on Saturday. They might even be as excited as I am. It is humbling to know that I get to teach these girls about their own literary renaissance, and that I get to learn from them in return.

Before we left for lunch, one of the girls, Evelyn, went curiously searching through my jottings. At the top of the page I had written, “First day all alone,” referring to Rachel Morison’s absence. She looked at me, smiled, and assured me, “you are no longer alone.”

Ava