Why Black Man Dey Suffer

I know many of my family and friends are anxiously awaiting photos of my Christmas by the beach and I have a few past experiences to catch up on as well but I thought, after my fire festival post that spoke of celebrating African culture in all of its variations, I should follow with a part of our history that isn't quite as nice but should be remembered nonetheless.  During my holidays I visited this place - 

Welcome to Elmina Castle 

 Elmina Castle was erected by Portugal in 1482 as St. George of the Mine Castle in present-day Elmina city, Ghana. It is the oldest European building in existence below the Sahara.  Its purpose : slaves. 

(female slave dungeon) 

(hundreds could be held here at a time - the castle had sometimes up to 1000 slaves in it at one time)

 (perched above officers, traders, or basically any white man could look down into the women's dungeon yard and pick one for his pleasures)

(he looked down into this courtyard to choose)

(the selected went up these stairs)

(some of the original brick flooring)

I stood on that brick as many tourists did before me and many will after me but most importantly as so many Africans did knowing that they were going to be slaves.  That they were slaves.  

For those that misbehaved there was this room.  Next to it is a cell reserved for some of the officers that misbehaved as well.  A few differences - the officers' cell had windows and they were sent there for a day or two.  We entered that cell and the tour guide shut the door.  It was horrible but there was light.  This one, with the skull, has no windows and slaves were put there, well, until they died.  We also entered that cell and the tour guide shut the door.  When he opened it up again I quietly stepped out while he continued his explanation. To stand where so many died is hard. 

(the door of no return)

To stand where so many were made to crouch down and slip through what is barely a hole in the massive stone wall is indescribable.  Writing this now I still feel the blanket of sadness that covered me that day.  It is estimated that 6.3 million people were sold from West Africa to North America and South America between 1701 and 1810.  Some say that up to 5 000 people were sold a year from Ghana alone. This does not include the many men, women and children who died on route to the castle or in the castle itself.  

 (where the top officer lived)

(stairs up to an airy rooftop)

(in the distance you can see another castle built by the Dutch in 1637 to protect St. George's castle)

As we walked the rooftop looking down at Ghanians playing football (soccer) by the ocean we asked ourselves what the men who lived here talked about when they walked the same steps.  Could they ignore who was underneath them?  Were they able to truly believe that this was the way? 

(built by the Dutch in 1637)

 Psalm: 132

The Eternal Dwelling of God in Zion

A Song of Ascents.

132 Lord, remember David
And all his afflictions;
² How he swore to the Lord,
And vowed to the Mighty One of Jacob:
³ “Surely I will not go into the chamber of my house,
Or go up to the comfort of my bed;
⁴ I will not give sleep to my eyes
Or slumber to my eyelids,
⁵ Until I find a place for the Lord,
A dwelling place for the Mighty One of Jacob.”

⁶ Behold, we heard of it in Ephrathah;
We found it in the fields of the woods.^[a]
7 Let us go into His tabernacle;
Let us worship at His footstool.
⁸ Arise, O Lord, to Your resting place,
You and the ark of Your strength.
⁹ Let Your priests be clothed with righteousness,
And let Your saints shout for joy.

¹⁰ For Your servant David’s sake,
Do not turn away the face of Your Anointed.

¹¹ The Lord has sworn in truth to David;
He will not turn from it:
“I will set upon your throne the fruit of your body.
¹² If your sons will keep My covenant
And My testimony which I shall teach them,
Their sons also shall sit upon your throne forevermore.”

¹³ For the Lord has chosen Zion;
He has desired it for His dwelling place:
¹⁴ “This is My resting place forever;
Here I will dwell, for I have desired it.
¹⁵ I will abundantly bless her provision;
I will satisfy her poor with bread.
¹⁶ I will also clothe her priests with salvation,
And her saints shall shout aloud for joy.
¹⁷ There I will make the horn of David grow;
I will prepare a lamp for My Anointed.
¹⁸ His enemies I will clothe with shame,
But upon Himself His crown shall flourish.”

 (church built by the Portuguese in the centre courtyard of the castle) 

 None of my words would ever come close to describing this experience and although many might think that this is not much fun on a christmas holiday I would never change or wish I hadn't gone.  

Who by Fire

I'm sitting in a taxi one November afternoon and I see this...

I ask Francis, my taxi driver, "Why is there an armed tank driving through town?"  He says:  "It is escorting the chief to the outskirts of Tamale for the Fire Festival that is happening tonight."  We manage to pass this tank and see this...

"These guys, playing music, are also escorting the chief" Francis says.  "Oh and look, there is the chief" 

"You mean he is the guy waving that horse tail out the window of that white vehicle?" I say.  "Yup!!"  And another big gun...

Nobody in Tamale seemed bothered by the fact that there were machine guns driving around town that day.  As we were driving past the cortège Francis offered to bring me to the festival so that I could see how it all happens.  

Another Tamale volunteer wrote a fantastic blog entry about this festival and its supposed origins so, instead of writing it all out again, here is the link to her blog.  Please read it as the explanation is fascinating.  

http://rains.internationalservice.org/2013/11/gunpowder-treason-and-plot-i-see-no.html

Now that you have read that, here are the photos that I managed to take during the festival. We decided to go to the central Mosque area to get the full experience.  We means Francis, Leanne and I. 

(not sure who he is or what he represents but he was a little scary.  All the young boys following him did not seem to think so though) 

(these fellows were quite funny with there dancing) 

(the crowd near the central Mosque where we were stationed to see all the action)

(getting ready to set those hay crosses on fire) 

(perfectly safe use of spray aerosol cans to get extra big flames...insert sarcasm here) 

When Leanne and I were feeling like we had seen enough, maybe even felt a little overwhelmed by the crowd, the fire and the big bazooka type thing that sounded like a canon, we walked back to the car that we had strategically parked far enough from the action in order to get out without hitting traffic.  Or so we thought...

Another group had their own parade of flames in another part of town.  You see Tamale has a couple of different chiefs since it is a big city.  There is the main one who lives in the chief's palace downtown and then there are sub chiefs, I guess you would call them, who live in other parts of town.  So here we are ready to go home and we meet up with another group blocking our way.  We parked the car once again and watched them go by until we could get through.  

(They had many more torches lit) 

And then we drove home.  

A few thoughts on the "Authentic African Experience" 

Out of all of the things I did here in Tamale, Ghana, Africa this was probably the most "authentic". By that I mean that this festival is celebrated, in this specific way, only by the Dagomba tribe that lives here in Tamale.  Other tribes in the country have other festivals that are celebrated at other times during the year.  This festival has no religious affiliations and so brings both muslims and christians out into the streets together.  

That being said, what is an "authentic African experience"?  I feel like we need to be careful about this - for many reasons.  One Africa is a HUGE continent with 54 countries plus 2 that are being disputed.  In Ghana alone, there are over 70 languages and many more tribes.  Each of the 10 regions is quite unique.  The South of the country, for example, is quite tropical and the North is very much desert like.  

We must be careful not to clump it all together.  There is more than the Masaï (who are in Kenya) or safaris with lions, elephants, monkeys and giraffes.  Lets not forget the  romantic images we see in movies of white linens and four poster beds with mosquito nets wrapped around them.  These are all part of it, yes, but along with all of it lets try to learn the names of the children who run after us yelling "saliminga hello" (white person hello).  Lets also try to embrace the fact that the continent and this country is moving fast, evolving fast. We need to also include the high life (Ghana) and afro beat (Nigeria) of the 70's as well as the azonto of today.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTUIlOudlHI

(some Azonto for you) 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZK6rdqr7rB8

(another extremely and I mean extremely popular song here in Ghana) 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rq1A8b6JPw

(please note that the term Al qaida is used in this context as the name of the dance - not sure why they chose this word but there it is) 

We need to understand that this continent does not have a single story but many stories that are layered and complex and worth knowing more about.  After all the future of this continent, although many can't fathom how, is so intrinsically intertwined with the the future of us all.  And I don't mean that in the "white man will come in, fix the economy, feed the children and make the continent just like us" kind of way.  I mean if we don't start seeing and hearing and understanding each other more, all of us, it is not going to get any better. Even after 8 months here I feel I have only skimmed the very very surface of it all.  There is much to learn about the one we call Mother Africa.  

Ok enough philosophizing and perhaps a little too much preaching for today.   I will leave you with this BRILLIANT ted talk by Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. 

http://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html