Les fêtes en Côte d'Ivoire

The end of October brought us two holidays: Tabaski and Toussaint, which gave us two days off work and a chance to get some real cultural experiences while here.

Tabaski: October 26

Tabaski, the name of Eid al Adha in Francophone African countries, is one of the most important Muslim celebrations. Muslims are estimated to make up at least 40% of the population in Côte d'Ivoire, so the day is off from work. And a good thing too! Tabaski celebrates the sacrifice that Abraham made, when God asked him to sacrifice his only son. Since Abraham was willing to do it, God spared him and allowed him to sacrifice a sheep instead. Hence, Tabaski is the "sheep ceremony." Sheep were in high demand this year, and because many of the sheep come from the Sahelian countries (such as Mali, currently plagued by a rebellion and political crisis) the costs were exorbitant as the fête approached (upwards of 700,000 franc CFA = $1,400!!) You are supposed to slaughter the sheep after morning prayers, and then eat it all that day. That means inviting people over to help you finish it and sharing it with those who cannot afford to buy their own.

We were invited to a Tabaski celebration at a colleague of mine (see post about my arrival here, I mentioned her invitation). She was very welcoming, and served up heaping plates of fonio, a grain from the north, and sheep stew. It was delicious.

After eating, my colleague and her friend who had stopped by showed us how to do a dance that was associated with a song released shortly after Ouattara's win. It was the Ouattara Cucu dance!

Abissa – October 28-November 4

The following week, we had the day off to celebrate Toussaint, or All Saints Day, A Catholic celebration. Instead of heading to the église, we went to the beach! Direction: Grand Bassam to see part of the Abissa celebration.

Abissa is a yearly festival by the N’Zima people that lasts the entire last week of October. The N’Zima are part of the Ashanti ethnic group (yes, from Ghana, consider that it was at one time a huge empire that stretched across West Africa!) and living in the coastal areas near Grand Bassam, the old colonial administrative capital of Côte d’Ivoire. The city itself is quite beautiful; run down colonial mansions and buildings, remnants of the French colonial order. Grand Bassam is about an hour from Abidjan, so we headed that way with some Save the Children friends, ate lunch on the beach, and then headed to the Abissa festival around 3.

According to this site, “During this festival, social barriers are lifted and ‘anything goes.’” This was so very true; there were tons of men dressed up like women! (the whole get-up: big butts, boobs, wigs and dresses!) Women wore jewelry fashioned out of household items: match boxes, condoms, kola nuts, cigarette boxes…

Abissa is also the moment to publically denounce any transgressions one has committed, to confess to any wrongdoing (even the chiefs participate) and to bring about social harmony. 

Check out some of the videos and pictures I took here: Abissa .

Abissa

We didn’t stay long for the ceremony, but the music was enthralling, the dancing was impressive, and the cross-dressing men were just hilarious. 

Electric Sliding, What is Literacy?, Sine Saloum, Marabout fun

A lot has gone on since I last wrote. Pictures are to the right and I also posted the link to Lizzie’s Spring Break pictures, because she took better ones than me.
The Saturday after spring break was International Student Day at Suffolk. All of the students at the University prepared food from their native countries, displayed traditional clothing and dances, and also participated in a talent show. Lizzie, Andrew and I made chocolate chunk cookies, which tasted kind of funny, but they were still good. Another professor brought cheeseburgers (Senegalese style though…which means they had a huge egg on top). Countries on display included Nigeria, Burkina Faso, Senegal, Mauritania, Benin, Ethiopia, and the Gambia. Our “American” dance was the electric slide, haha. In the middle of the talent show, a pretty famous singer came to perform his extremely popular song “Blocaz.” He invited a bunch of people on the stage to do the blocaz dance with him; it was a lot of fun. Much later in the evening we went with him to this very nice discotheque.
The following week my Education and Culture in Senegal class went to an adult literacy class on a field trip. The class consisted of maybe fifteen women over the age of forty and who almost all held jobs as a vendeuse (seller). They did not speak French and their first language was Pulaar (Fulani in English), but they could also speak Wolof. What I found most incredible was the fact that their literacy class was not in the National language (and therefore most written and utilized language in the country) of French. Instead the women were learning to write Fulani, a language that has only been written down for 60 years and in which nothing is written in this country. Our class was faced with this conundrum: what is the point of learning to write in your native language if it isn’t the language that signs, newspapers, etc. are written in? One classmate of mine said it was difficult to learn an alphabet, so it was better for them to learn the alphabet of their own language before moving on to French, which is foreign to them. Yes, this would make sense if there were adult literacy classes in French, but there are not. Most of those women will live their entire lives without ever learning French. Another classmate said, well at least they will be able to recognize letters and numbers on street signs. But does that really help? At the beginning of the literacy class, the women repeated the saying that those who are illiterate are lost and do not know themselves. Perhaps the literacy course is only to empower these women, whose children probably speak French that they learned in school. The women will be able to better handle their commerce through having the ability to keep documents of sales and balance the numbers, as well as help their children with their homework to some extent. I also think it is a pride thing; the Fulani are a large group in Senegal, but Wolof is the most wide spoken language. Through teaching literacy classes in their native tongue, they are protecting their culture and language.
Last weekend we went to the Sine Saloum delta. That is where the Saloum River meets the ocean. It was a most relaxing trip; we took a pirogue down the river, a horse cart tour of the local village, and got to chill on the beach. Saturday night we went to a traditional wrestling match. The pictures aren’t very good (there wasn’t much light), so you are going to have to use your imagination. Think Sumo wrestling, but with thin, muscular black men (in other words, the only thing the two have in common is the little thong/underwear thing they wear). There were many participants in this particular match, so the ones not wrestling walked around the circle and danced to the drumming and singing. It was quite a spectacle; especially when our lovely “toubabs” joined in the extravaganza. Three boys and two girls from the USA wrestled Senegalese people in the middle of the match. All of the boys won and one of the girls defeated her opponent quickly.
Finally, on Wednesday of this week we went to visit a Marabout in Madina. Marabouts are religious leaders in the community and the one we visited, Thierno Madu Tall, was one of the top Marabouts who oversees many Marabouts below him. We were entertained in his enormous sitting room, the same sitting room, he proudly told us, where he had just meet with the Israeli ambassador. We discussed almost everything under the sun: how many wives he had (two, but always was considering a third), his role in the community (he blesses all weddings and funerals and people come to him for financial advice or even to ask him if the mate they have chosen is right for them), his opinion on beating children (he believes that adult criminals were not beaten in their childhood, so the students under his care are beaten), and of course, his thoughts on talibes begging for their Marabouts (he said it was practical because the parents abandon the children in the Marabout’s care and the Marabout cannot take care of all of those children by himself, so they beg to re-pay their teachers; however, Thierno said he does not have talibes begging for him). It was a rare experience because he was not surrounded by his “posse” and was able to answer all questions honestly, even though he did have a very round-about way of avoiding the questions at times.
My birthday is next week, and happens to coincide with Senegal’s Independence Day celebrations. This Saturday we are going to a water management plant for environment class. The following week we will be going on our rural visits to stay with either NGOs or Peace Corps Volunteers out in the bush. In other words, my time is flying by really quickly! There are only three weeks or so left of class, five weeks until I go to Cape Verde, and two months until I come back to the U.S.

Pink lakes and turtles, “the gathering of white people,” parlez-vous français? Lan ngay wax Wolof?, L’école primaire de Point E

So, I realized that I haven’t written on the blog in a long time and much has happened. First, some more interesting cultural elements of Senegal. Walking down the street in Dakar, you will surely be approached by a small boy, often in ratty clothing, carrying an empty can or bucket and reaching to you with an out-stretched hand. At first glance, you think it is just your run-of the mill beggar, ignore, and walk on. However, you would immediately notice that the boy doesn’t pursue you, which is not normal of regular beggar behavior. That is because this boy is not an ordinary beggar. Called Talibes, these boys are innumerable on the streets of Dakar. They beg because their Islamic teacher, a marabout, forces them to. This system used to be one that was meant to encourage humility while these boys learned the Qur’an. They would beg, understand life as a beggar, take the money back to the Marabout, who was entrusted to feed, clothe and take care of these children by their parents. But today’s world is a different story. Parents give Marabouts their sons because they can’t afford to take care of them. The Marabout in turn uses the boys to make some spare change for himself, often leaving the children without regular meals or clothing. He often will beat the child if they don’t make a certain amount per day. So what do you do? Do you give them the money, that only goes to the Marabout and continues this horrible trend, or do you give the child some food, hoping that he can make the 1,000 CFA ($2) so that he doesn’t get beaten when he goes to the Marabout? I often give them food, which they are very grateful for, but this is a serious problem that the government of Senegal should be attempting to eradicate.
Eventually I will post an entire blog on Islam in this country, which I think if very interesting. In the meantime, you can enjoy reading about various travel experiences I have had. Last weekend, I traveled with three other CIEE students to le village de tortues, turtle village. It is a park that is for turtles (and tortoises) who are injured or endangered in the wild. Only an hour from Dakar, you can definitely get a feel for the drier, savannah like landscape of Senegal. There are tons of Baobab trees (giant trees who, as one CIEE student put it, look like they are turned upside down: huge roots, thick grey trunks, and a fruit whose juice tastes like coconut) and lots of tall grasses. We then headed to Lac Rose, via a pick-up truck on a dirt road. Lac Rose is this huge, extremely salty lake. It also is the final destination of the Paris-Dakar rally. It is pink because of the interaction between bacteria and oxygen. You could reach into the water and grab a handful of salt. We watched some of the locals extract the salt from the lake and make huge piles on the sides for drying.
Superbowl Sunday I went to a wedding party, which reminded me of the typical American wedding party (bride in white, bridesmaids in matching dresses, too many pictures being taken, small snacks). After the party, I went to the Marines’ house to watch the Superbowl, good times. This past weekend we took a group excursion to Toubab Dialow, an artist’s village on the petit cote, about 1 hour south. The village’s name means “the gathering of white people” because the Portuguese used to come there often to trade. It was therefore ironic that there were 35 of us “toubabs” showing up. I took a batik class (painting with wax on fabric to make cool designs and wall hangings) and lazed around on the beach. We then ate a three course meal, followed by a performance by the drumming and dance groups. The subject of the interpretative dance was immigration – the story of a Senegalese man trying to get to Spain via a small fishing boat. This is particularly pertinent, especially if you have been following the news (1000s of Senegalese have attempted to get to the Canary Islands in order to work in Spain, often in tiny canoes and if they make it to shore, they often get turned back). We then sat around and had deep, intellectual conversation on the problems with international trade, capitalism in Africa, top down versus bottom up development policies, education policy in the US, and the lyrics to “smack that.” (note: Akon is a rapper quite popular in the US; his songs include: I am so lonely, locked up, and Smack that. He was born in Senegal and his father was a popular Senegalese singer, which everyone here is quite proud of.)
Things on the political front are getting pretty heated. My sister has a yellow shirt and hat with a picture of the current president and she often attends his rallies. On the other hand, everyone else in my house doesn’t like President Wade, but they can’t tell me who is a better candidate for president (they say often “all they do is talk, talk, talk. Politicians say a lot, but do nothing.”). The former Prime Minister, Idrissa Seck, (who Wade ousted and put in prison without trial for embezzlement) is running under a new party, and he is supposed to be pretty popular. There are a ton of candidates (26), all bashing the past seven years under Wade, but not offering any solutions to Senegal’s biggest problems such as unemployment. Last night I had a lengthy conversation with my brother about politics in the U.S., auto insurance, and issues in the African-American community (he said that he heard there was a lot of black on black violence in the US). I was pretty proud of myself as the entire conversation was conducted in French, haha. I am finding it easier and easier to express myself, even if I don’t know the words (for example, I didn’t know the word for greedy, so I said “when a person has a lot of money but they want it only for themselves.” He totally got what I was saying). The Wolof is coming…I’ve got basic greetings down, and working on my vocabulary and verbs. People keep trying to have full blown conversations with me, but I only know simple stuff. My mom would love for me to speak it fluently so we can have a decent conversation (her French is not as good.)
I am volunteering/doing research at a local elementary school for my Education and Culture class. It is a public school, and working there makes me see how many things we take for granted in our education systems in the US. For example, the teacher hand writes all the exercises in students’ (30) notebooks because they don’t have printed sheets. Chalk and chalkboards are used by all of the students. They share writing utensils, desks, and seats. Students in the first grade are anything between 5 and 7, but sometimes even the occasional 13 year old. Their levels vary from some able to understand the numbers of syllables in a word to others who can barely write, or speak, in French. They are taught only in French, not their first languages, and are smacked or slapped for messy handwriting (my class, first years, were supposed to have mastered cursive). The teacher is allowed, I think, to smack students with chalkboards, slap the desks with yardsticks, and spank children for misbehaving. The students are all very respectful (they stand and say “Bonjour, Madame!” when I walk in the class, “Au Revoir, Madame” when I leave). They go to class from 8am to 1pm with a thirty minute break. They learn songs to practice their French and conjugations. The classroom is bare except for the chalkboard, the desks and a few posters on the walls. No book shelves nor a fan nor lights, students keep their bags on their back for the entire period, a bucket of water and a sponge serves as their erasers. But to think, this is one of the better schools, as most classes only have 30 students (versus the possibility of 80+ in other public institutions), and the teachers and headmaster seem to be genuinely committed to their students (the headmaster was able to obtain a few computers for the “library” that students can use). Hopefully, my volunteering will benefit some of the students, maybe the ones that have fallen behind.

shower sell-out, conferences, botanical gardens, etc.

It has been a while since I wrote, so its time for an update. p.s. for togo pictures, please click the ghanawebshots link on the right side. I haven't put up the Cape Coast ones yet.

Nothing much has happened, I haven't been traveling or anything too exciting. October 16-17th I went back to Cape Coast for a conference on decentralization and district assemblies' ability to generate revenue for CDD. I was the designated reporter. Since Cape Coast is a bit of a distance from Accra, we stayed overnight at the Elmina Beach Resort (this is where the conference was hosted as well). I felt like a sell-out...We were in an air-con car with a driver, stayed in a nice hotel with air-con, satelite tv, and...hot showers. I guess i felt like such a sell-out because I felt like the uppidy people i am totally against here. and the hot shower...it was just okay (i.e. it was a nice addition, but not necessary). Anywho, I am really grateful I had the experience of attending the conference. There was a presentation on the Cape Coast Municipal assembly and how they are attempting to generate revenue (tax collection is hard, especially with so many people in the informal economy not contributing to the tax base, so the assemblies have a hard time implementing successful development projects, such as trash collection.).One suggestion was the construction of student hostels, since the University of Cape Coast doesn't have enough housing for their students (the same applies to the University of Ghana, Legon...where I have heard rumors of one room with 13 people in it...a room meant for four). At the conference was the Central Region minister(he had a personal bodyguard too), some professors from UCC, members of the district assemblies, the Director of the Non-tax Revenue Ministry of Finance & Economic Planning from the central government, and a host of other prominent people as well as students and those involved in NGOs such as CDD and one of its chief funders, FNF. It was a really interesting conference...the director from the ministry of finance gave a presentation on street naming and house numbering. You just never think about how something so basic as this can really affect the infrastructure and development of a city. Anyway, as the reporter I had to write down everything that was said during the Q&A session, which was difficult because some people were mutterers, others were mumblers, others didn't really make coherent arguements, and still others were bringing up interesting topics that had nothing to do with anything. I went to the conference with Prof, Buntu (South African who is CDD's international fellow), and Joe, who has become my boss here at CDD (and who got me invited in the first place). We talked about US Foreign Policy (popular, eh?) listened to the BBC Africa on the way back, ate some pineapple, and had a wonderful time. I think that the internship thus far has provided me with the greatest experience, because I am with Ghanaians and learning so so much about the Ghanaian government, the innerworkings of a NGO, and getting to go to interesting conferences (like the one I attended today about women in the reconciliation process, how the reconciliation process should take on a more gendered approach to consider women who were abused, humiliated, or oppresed during the military regimes and the totalitarian governments of Ghana's past).
The following weekend my roommate's mom took us out to eat at a popular chopbar called Asanka's. I had yam and palava sauce (boiled yams and a spinach sauce) which was pretty tasty. My roommate's mom is a professor of finance at UofG and she is trying to get a fulbright in the US to study international finance at NYU. She is from Nigeria and has four kids, one in the US studying engineering in Georgia. She took us for icecream afterwards.
The next day we headed to Aburi botanical gardens, about an hour away from campus. It was built by the british and houses a ton of trees and flowers from all over the world. There is this one tree that got eaten by some crazy plant and the tree is completly hollow inside. We climbed in and it was cool. The gardens were small, but it was a change because it was a higher elevation than Accra and the air didnt smell like noxious fumes from cars. That week marked the official halfway point, and now its all downhill. I am not ready to leave...I mean i want to see everyone, but i think that you should come here, so i can see you and enjoy my lovely life in Ghana!
Last weekend (20-22) was also laid back, but sunday I went to prof's house for lunch. I met some of prof's friends, a chem professor from UofG that studied at duke, prof's ghanaian-canadian neighbor, a lawyer working in NY for international transitional justice, a woman on CDD's board of trustees who is a professor in communications at UofG, and a female lawyer who studied in London and is a non-sitting district judge. Prof's real name is E. Gyimah-Boadi, he is a professor at UofG in political science as well as the head of CDD. He doesn't want people to know what the E stands for. Anyway, he is a great guy, funny, smart, religious neutral (which is a "God-send" (no pun intended, haha) in this OVERLY christian society). Just sitting there, listening, i learned so much about Ghanaian politics. Granted, sometimes I had no idea what they were talking about (idk what it is with Africa and its 100 million acronyms for everything i.e. CHRAJ, PM, CCMA, AMA, CPP, NPP, NDC, etc and those are only a few of Ghana's million acronyms), but I got the general gist, like their views on chiefs and their desperation to hold onto power i.e. the Asantehene (the chief of the Ashante) who recently issued a fatwa on some journalists who wrote an article where his name came up in discussion about a cocaine scandal. Chiefs play a critical role in Ghana's democratic development, but it is interesting to see how they interact with the central government (in other words, they do what they want).
Speaking of religion, tonight we are going to a singles/relationship conference on campus. We are mostly going because we want to learn about things such as 10 things that are wrong about sex, 15 reasons not to marry your classmate, but to marry your CLASSMATE (whatever that means), etc. It will be an interesting experience, even if we don't believe what they tell us. I have no problem with Christians, mind you, but here in Ghana it is a bit on the ridiculous side, with someone left and right always preaching to you about something. Not to mention, one of the first questions in conversation is are you a christian? because that really matters if you are only trying to get the lecture notes from class. They are way too "holier than thou" for me.
This weekend we are hopefully going somewhere...p.s. only three more weeks of class...crazzy.

Celine Dion, Jesus and a host of other topics

So, for all of you who thought that coming to Africa I would lose a lot of weight...If I do anything it will be gain. All i eat is carbs carbs carbs and that's three times a day. I feel the pudge coming on. So no worries, I won't return skin and bones, i will probably come back 10 pounds heavier haha. It actually rained today, which was exciting. The weather has been warm, not hot, and a little overcast. Two people in our crew have come down with Malaria..no good.
So enough about me, lets talk about Ghanaians.

First, Music preferences. Delilah (you know the soft rock queen) would be quite content with the amount of listeners she would draw here in Ghana. In bars, restaurants, the political science department, tro-tros and taxis, Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Shania Twain, Tim McGraw, Lionel Richie and a host of 80s/90s soft rock and R&B blare. Celine Dion seems to be a favorite and it is totally appropriate to sing along, especially the men. Beyonce, Jay-Z, Sean Paul, Tupac, and Neyo are also played frequently.

Second, Jesus. Ghana is like 90 percent Christian, and they are quite proud of this. On tro-tros, you can read scriptures, taxis have names such as Lord our Savior, Have you prayed today?, and He died for you. Shops incorporate their christian identities in their titles: Blood of Jesus hair salon and Lord the Almighty car parts. Its kinda intense actually. But quite interesting...

Third, transportation. Ghanaians don't like to walk. Hence the extensive tro-tro and metro bus service. I dont mind walking, but there is a tro-tro that runs from near the ISH to the main gate for 1000 cedis (10 cents). Its only like a ten-fifteen minute walk, but you hardly run into a Ghanaian, especially a female, walking the path. I think this could be due in part to the fact that they wear heels to class. Today a woman got on a tro tro with a chicken and a goat. They put the goat in the back and she held the chicken in her lap. That was interesting. But tro-tros are actually a great idea. They go everywhere, and they come every few minutes. Sure, I have gotten on the wrong tro-tro before and ended up somewhere I didn't have intentions of being, but that's how you learn the system, right?

Fourth, I would like to offer you a view into things I have noticed that are acceptable here but would probably be taboo in the states.

Men holding hands.

Someone harassing you on the street to buy toilet paper.

Going to the bathroom with the door open.

Drinking beer at breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. (but public drunkeness is only accepted at funerals and weddings, i think.)

Singing along with Celine in public places, especially if you are a guy.

Walking in the street (but running over pedestrians doesn't seem to be taboo, so its best to be careful)

Cutting in line.

Littering.

Hissing, snapping, and making kissing sounds at females.

Cell phones in class.

Fifth, Classes. I have had three so far. The first, international conflicts and resolution, was a class of 100+ and was addressed by the TA. Everyone was talking while he was trying to explain. Then everyone was shouting. Then everyone was raising their hands and then they were talking. I was very confused, because A) I couldn't hear the professor and B) I couldn't understand him. My second class had 150+ and went something like this. I got there fifteen minutes early but still had to sit in the back. Then the people who got there on time had to squeeze into the desks that were already occupied. SO it was hot, sticky, no power (it was out all day yesterday), and squeezed in a one person desk with two people. not to mention, everyone was talking while the prof was, he wrote stuff on the board, but I couldn't see it at all, so i doodled and copied the girl who was sitting next to me (who couldn't hear either). People also answered their phones during class. Today's class was a lot better...40 kids, I sat in the front, and the prof spoke clearly and slow and it seemed like the students respected her more, as they shut up. The content of the classes is kind of disappointing...each class is offered once a week for two hours and there is only 13 weeks of teaching, so not much is really going to get taught. I have also learned alot of what the courses are proposed to teach.

So far, I am having a great and interesting experience. I will continue to try to convey on here what I see everyday. AND quit harassing me about pictures. I am in a third world country, lest you forgot. I am working on getting pics up!