May 15th, 2009:
I go back to Naa, the healer, around 5:00 pm. She tells me I need to bathe first because she'll put medicine on for the night. I go back around 6:30. She asks again if I want the cutting, but I say the massage is good enough for me. She presses her thumbs into my tender spots and applies the medicine, shea butter, mud, and herbs. She wouldn't tell me the specifics. She tells me to come back in the morning.
May 16th, 2009:
I go back to Naa's in the morning with Yaw Bimpe and Kwaku Baah. There's a shoe repair shop along the way. It has a large painting of a scary doll's face that looks just like Chuckie. Underneath is written, "Child's Play".
Naa isn't around when we get there. Her son is bandaging a woman's leg, her entire leg in white bandages. Women and girls are getting water at the well in the courtyard, metal basins full of water. The rope with knots takes the bucket down for more. The girls spiral their long fabric and place it on their heads. They help each other place their basins on top.
Many People waiting for healing and to get their wounds attended to. Old women in brightly colored clothes, interesting wrinkled faces, a chubby baby in her mother's arms, another woman trying to get her to smile.
A soldier and another man escort a woman to the healer (Naa's son). Naa's son has a deep lined face, big smiles and is cheerful. He removes her guaze. Her entire arm is swollen. She has a brown powder, "Ghana medicine", on her arm. She winces and is in pain. Naa's son jokes around with the water carriers and applies a hot towel, steaming hot. She's in very much pain now and the men hold her. He tries to straighten out her arm and begins to apply another bandage.
Next is a little girl, maybe 9 yrs. old who has arm trouble as well, her right arm around the elbow and above. He applies the steaming towel. She turns away wincing. Her mother holds her.
Finally, Naa comes in talking to people along the way. She has on a balck crocheted hat. She asks how I am and invites me to the room, the dark, blue-walled room, cerulean blue with a blue halogen light. She takes the medicine and rubs it into my lower back pressing with her lower thumbs, massaging in the mud like substance. A few minutes later she says I'm done and I put my shirt back on. She says come back again in the evening and jokes again about me taking her to the U.S.
The boys and I take off for a long walk to the village of Beimso II(two) about 2 miles away, Yaw Bimpe, Yaw Gimpfi, Sadick, Kwaku Baah, and Daniel Owusu. Green, Catholic cemetary, tile photos of the deceased on white, tiled, bed-like gravestones. Yaw Bimpe says, Auntie Bea's mother is buried there. A plaster, angel sculpture in honor of one of the dead, green growth, red dirt road, water carriers pass us on the way to the stream. incinerator chimney, beehive bricks, dump filled with plastic bags, broken wicker baskets.
Tall trees stick up along the way, lilipads, plantains, a rice field with mud packed low barriers, churches, farmers in the field. A few women are eating and invite me to join them, they wave, pass the stream, a young man is helping a woman fill her basin. She has green plants, leafs floating on the top as she walks up the steep incline. A couple taxis pass us. More people along the way, maize, orange citrus farm with casava on the side of the road. Yaw Bimpe says it's the assemblyman's of Adugyama. He's rich.
Get to Biemso II,on the outskirts, a secondary school with world map mural, meet people in the village. They're surprised to see an Obruni. They ask me where I'm going. I say I'm just walking around. A drunk man tries to talk to me. He's smoking, rare to see in Ghana. Children run to the road. A rasta man with dreads is on the side of the road and we greet each other and shake hands. Then we turn back to Adugyama. We sprint a little bit. I haven't sprinted in a long time. Then stop at the secondary school and the boys play on the trees. They drink some water from the stream and invite me to do the same, but I decline. I take photos of the tall trees sticking in the air, remnants of a powerful empire, the rainforest.
Sunday, May 17th:
6:20am, I hear country music coming from the local spot, "One Day at a Time Sweet Jesus" is playing, different version than I've heard before. In the morning, country music. I buy eight bananas, fried maize donuts. Yaw Bimpe buys rice in Nzongo, chicken wire screen around rice shop to protect from flies. We pass by the big baobab tree. Yaw Bimpe says that even if you cut this tree it will not fall down. It is like a ghost tree. People cook the leaves and eat them.
Later, I see Kwaku Baah and Sandra running around the front of the house, then Nana. I see goats run under the corn shed. Then I see one of the little goats has a bucket around its neck. They're trying to catch him. There are several goats running together. I go out and take pictures as they chase the goat. Awhile later, I hear a goat squeal and then Ama laughing. A man helped them catch the goat.
Monday, May 18th, 2009:
Laundry this morning. I hand wash my laundry.
I try to do it myself, but Rose won't let me. She looks on, sees my lack of technique, bemused and probably dumbfounded. She gets her pretty salon assistant to help me. I try to stop them saying I can do it myelf but they won't listen.
I use So Klin detergent and Key Soap, a bar of soap that's advertized everywhere. I also use little blue ultramarine rock-like bleach that you rub into another bucket of water. My Key Soap is very small and Rose argues with me to get another. I say I can still use it one more time. She's about to get her assistant to buy me an new bar for 30 pesewas, so I go to my room and get my extra bar. Her assistant uses that one. I use my little ready-to-break-in-two one. People pass and are curious about me washing my clothes. They laugh and I greet them. This happens every week.
I make tea for Rose, laborers, and myself. Children stop by, 3-4 kids and little 2 yr. old Sandra. They draw and I tell them to stay quiet. I paint in the back by Nana's door. Goats and chickens hang out. One goat brings its head by the wall and watches me, two horns twisted brown and black. The goats occasionally get chased out of the house by the dog. The chickens walk around my art drying on the ground. The kitten walks on my painting, looking for food. The girls show me their artwork and leave. another boy stops by, Daniel Owusu. He wants to draw. He's a neighbor and his family seems to have very little. He likes to draw cars, strong geometry with dark lines, like his brother's. He draws his car. Another boy stops by, Kwame Nsiam. He draws large shapes that look similar to a shirt. Daniel finishes his car. I encourage him to draw more, so he draws an elephant below the car. I snap their photo holding their artworks. They enjoy looking at the photo on my camera.
Little stubs of colored pencils on the table,
my yellow plastic cup of Chelsea tea,
Nana's large tin cup, Sadick is drawing the space shuttle,
Auntie Bea eats plantains and stew. Yaw Owusu is reading a
Newsweek magazine, Istanbul,
no water for the past few days,
many people walk to the wells to fill
their buckets and basins. On the way to Naa's,
one well, two spickets, two lines of plastic buckets
waiting there when the well opens. Another well is
next to the Baobab tree.
The neighbor does her laundry, bent over, standing up
scrubbing 2 roosters and a hen eat next to her from
a charcoaled pot. Twi in the air from Yaw and Bea,
clear skies today. Last night, heavy rains loud
flickers of lightening like paparazzi.
I walk around the village, take photos of a couple of
children playing " store and dress up". I make spaghetti
with onions, garlic, olive oil.
Tuesday, May 19th, 2009:
Little after 7am, waiting for a tro-tro to Kejetia, G-circle
Naa's grandson stops by and says "hi". A man walks up to me
with his little daughter. She has curly hair, a little thin,
almost with a bald spot in the back and one gold earring. I ask how old she is and he says, 3 months. We talk a littl bit. The girl's mother is buying rice. The girl looks at me intently. I keep waiting for her to cry. Some little children have been freaked out by the ghost-like Obruni.
I get on the tro-tro and look at all the beautiful trees along the way, the farm fields, palms, plantains, pass through Mankranso, we zip by the customs used for trucks, further, police stop to check registration and tro-tro license. We get to the toll booth, many women are selling things, fried donuts (bofrotu), bread, green apples, PK gum, eggs,and many other snacks. Take the back road, I'm happy, more greener fields. I notice a large bug on the collar on the driver, about 2 inches with long antennae, scaler, with claw pincers. my neighbor notices it as well, so I take my pen and try to flick it off of him out the window. The bug hangs on with its pincers but crawls on the sleeve where the driver flicks it out of the window.
Friday, May 22, 2009:
Took tro-tro to Ntensere this morning, by the big rock/hill I like so much like a Chinese landscape painting. We walk a couple miles along the road through a little village and get to the monastery, Benedictine Monasstery of Monte Oliveto. The church is pagoda like. We're looking at it from the road. A man motions for us to come in, big dome, chairs at the back, little prayer areas/vestibules, paintings of St. Bernard of Tolomei, founder of Olivetan Congregation, St. Francis of Rome, patroness of Olivetan Cong. We went out back. Francis, the monk says only three monks are there now. Some people are in a side bldg getting ready to pray. He says every Friday people from neighboring villages come and pray. We meet the Superior/Director, Francis Kumi. He explains that the other monks, 14 or so are in Bologna, Italy, their sister monastery. An Italian architect built this monastery. He shows us a room for someone to go on a retreat for 2 days. He offers us a ride to Abuakwa, but I say I like to walk and look around and thank him. Yaw and I stay in the church for awhile, lots of bird sounds. Before Francis left, I say how much I liked the rocky hill on the Sunyani Rd. He said the church wanted to build there but it's a military zone. Nice wood on the ceiling, teak? Dark, webs and birds' nests in the dome above, quiet, peaceful, listen to the people praying, the birds. We go out front and Francis gives us a tour. We see the garden, an eight inch snake, baby snake, is in ourway and Francis, the monk, takes a brick and while we are conversing smashes the snake, big gash. Their garden has corn, tomatos, po po (papaya), carrots, onions, cabbage. They have large plastic tanks of water, laundry room, kitchen area, nice greass, brush/shrubs trimmed with the letters BMMO, Benedictine Monastery of Monte Oliveto, a grotto for baby Jesus and Mary. The director, Francis said he just came back from a retreat in Assisi, Italy. He's fluent in Italian.
Saturday, May 23rd, 2009:
brushing my teeth, 7am, a girl in a skirt with a little white, clear bucket of water in one hand, a little whisk broom made of palm reeds in the other, cleaning a yellow bucket used for carrying water. She circles the yellow bucket, dousing it with water and wisking it with her broom.
Yao Bimpe and I walk to Biemso I today, another village on a different road from Biemso II but fairly close. Red dirt road, grave, maintined well, pass by the newly built hospital on the edge of Adugyama, looks large. Go by a little cemetary, beautiful trees, flowers along the way, large, lone trees, palms, coconut, mangos, maize, many taxi pass us, then SUVs, Mercedes, nice cars. Yaw saysthere's probably a funeral. A woman with ground nuts (peanuts) on her head and a man selling belts and watches catch up to us. She says, "Andrew", and I tell her I'm Daniel, Andrew's friend. Yaw and I both buy ground nuts wrapped in newspaper, 20 pesewas each about 20-30 shelled peanuts. Took photos of lone, large trees, lush greens, remnants of rainforests farmed and parched by people, people and planted, cutting, sawing, burning, transplanting, decanopied, ripped off, church concrete at the edge of Biemso, painted by Senior Wisdom.
At Beimso, big funeral, many dark Adinkra cloths, took pictures of old catholic shrine, meet neighbor, Kofi's grandmother. She's happy to see us. Just as the funeral was getting under way, people enter, many women in green tops, red canopy, tents with nice chairs. Yaw says this is a very weathly funeral, ther person who died was rich. A pick-up flies past us with four men in the back. Look like military garb and I see a gun. As soon as the truck stops, 5 guys jump out with their rifles and guns and give chase. One guy runs by us, looking between the bldgs. They head down the hill and people are all stirred up. Some go and watch. I want to find some kind of cover in case there's a big shoot out. Things calm down and we walk further down the road. We see them bring in the casket, a Methodist funeral. A little ways down the road, we see the pick up that brought the military guys, no markings. Then, the guy with a uniform, the driver, I presume begins to walk toward us. He has the air of someone in power and gives a slight smile. I smile in return wanting to ask him what's happening, but thinking otherwise. Yaw overhears the people say they were after "stealers" and they caught them.
Back in Adugyama:
Mr. Addo stopped by. We talk about the usefulness of aid organizations. He says 2 Peace Corps volunteers were at his school when he was young and really influenced the students. Talked about how Andrew, the Peace Corps volunteer here, really motivated farmers to try different techniques. One farmer with a fish pond is now raising pigs.
Kids stop by to draw. I do my painting in the back, dirt, charcoal, and vegetable oil. Agya joins me. He did four paintings, children watch. Sandra and two or her friends painted a couple paintings. Later in the afternoon, a big group of kids all drawing and hanging out, having fun
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment