Recap of African Drumming & Dancing on Sunday, Feb 6th

I walked towards the bus and noticed folks giving the bus driver their tickets. I completely forgot about the yellow ticket system for SAS pre-sale trips. I ended up getting a duplicate one because I started panicking when I tried to think back what happened to mines. I thought I hadn't received it in the recent ticket cycle. Turns out, I had got my Takoradi tickets earlier in the semester... I had put them away and forgotten all about them. But at the moment I didn't remember this... I told Christy that I hadn't received mines...and neither had any of my roommates. I was pretty convinced...and I convinced her. Shaking my head... haha...

So we got on the bus. It was something like a Coach bus. I sat next to Mary (oh the irony...) but we had bonded since the evening we danced after the Ghana pre-port meeting. The drive into the city was about 15 minutes. Since it was our first glimpse at Takoradi, it gave us an insight that most folks didn't have. We got to see beyond the port... and to be honest, this particular port was not attractive. Actually it was very sketchy looking. There were a ton of warehouses and shipping containers...we didn't quite understand why we didn't go to our original port in the beginning. We were scheduled to sail into Accra, but apparently the summer voyage is going to Africa and they switched our ports. It's a money thing I'm sure... We are staying in Africa much longer than they are so Takoradi was a cheaper stay. It's funny how we discuss these things. We found that filling up for gas costs about $100,000. We even found out that docking in Bahamas cost us $70,000. So our little fees and our tuition here is somewhat chunk change. This ship means business!

But back to the story...we were almost surprised when the bus stopped. We were already there. Locals were staring at us and pointing. We entertained our eyes by people watching. It was amazing to see people balance things on their heads. One guy had so much silverware. He had an unopened pots and pans set. He balanced that on his head, along with some other things. We were gasping from the inside of the bus because we just knew that there was nooo way he could do it. But he did... and we watched him walk calmly down the street. He wasn't even stiff! More and more we watched people walk through the crowded market streets. The theory seemed to be, why carry things when you can put it on your head?  There were some jerks on the bus ride. Two happened to be my residents and I had to contain my feelings of disgust. Some people should watch what they say, but at the same time, they have to be who they are...

We start piling off our bus and into the building. The first thing we hear is drumming, intense loud drumming. There are men sweating but they are smiling and drumming. Around them, locals gathered, watching us file in. It was difficult to figure out what the inside could look like from the outside, but we walk past some slot machines...kinda like their casino.Then we entered this pavilion area where there were chairs set up in a circular form with respect to the a platform. However, the first thing that hits you was the smell of must. It was already humid, but this was a whole 'notha level of “no air”. The guys continue behind us, drumming and break into dancing. It was difficult not to cringe. I could see on everyone's faces the same thing: Man it stinks in here. We were outside, but there was no wind. It was like funk suspended in time, must resonating and no sort of channel to flick it away. It was pretty bad. But then we were captivated by a series of different dances. The beauty of music is it transcends space and time. We lost track of our previous senses and immersed in the hynotic beats of the drums. Feets were tapping, fingers were snapping. We were swaying, we were bobbing... it was hard not to. All of the dancers, both male and female were muscled and toned. They look made from marble. It was impressive. Hahaha. I couldn't help but think if I want a 6-pack, this is the way to go. They had a set routine in place, but every now and then they would pull an unsuspecting person up to dance. I was pretty relieved I was sitting on the outer ring instead of the inner. I wasn't feeling too confident in my moves just yet. For a few songs, they invited us all into the circle and that's when it got funny. You could see the discomfort and the expectations we have of ourselves (that innate desire to do things right/be amazing at it). It's cool to bask in this universal “badness” where we could only laugh at ourselves and others. You break walls that way, and that is certainly something we learned from these dancers. Things got even more intense when we were told we were going to learn a routine and perform it. For the remaining three hours we practiced. And practiced...and practiced. The way they moved was impossible to imitate. They were graceful, yet they were assertive. It was quite a contrast. They told stories with their hands, with their stomachs, legs, and smiled the entire time. That had to be the part we were hung up on. Ever watch someone do something that until you try for yourself, know isn't all that easy...but they smile the entire time and make it look simple? Exactly. These people were extraordinary. The sweat factor was rising and our air supply was declining. Every now and then I had to stop and gasp for air on the sidelines. Hygiene is different in each country, but add intensive, rigorous dancing as such, plus the climate...and you have an equation for a possible heat stroke. My water went from ice cold to lukewarm...to an almost tea-like temperature. Kept sipping though...we were not stopping or getting lunch any time soon. Besides, it was sooo much fun.

Stopping only set me back in learning the steps... plus everyone wanted in on the experience so no one sat down. Actually there were a bunch of times I felt lightheaded now looking at that situation, we were pushing it hahaha. More and more locals were watching us at this point. There were a ton of kids as well. They were the ones who'd set up our chairs. Several of them continue working, others milled around waiting for assignments... the youngest ones sat in loose chairs behind us and watched. There was a point when we were watching some young teens dance when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I look around and this little boy says, “Excuse me miss, but the man behind me wants to speak with you.” I look in the direction he indicates and there is an older dude who is waving me over... Definitely wasn't feeling the idea of being summoned. Certainly not my cup of tea...or the fact that he sent the kid over. But that's a whole other story. Anyhow, Mary who was sitting next to me had a worried look on her face. I didn't really know what to do. I know what the rules are... I am familiar with the role of women in the Ghananian society (thanks to my International Perspectives on Family Violence class), I also didn't want to get the kid in trouble so I kinda nodded my head in acknowledgement. Mary and I whispered for a bit, figured I would play dumb and hope he forgot about it. Continued recording as a new rhythm erupted and new dancers ran out into the center. No later than 10 minutes, another tap on my shoulder has me turning around. This time an older teen boy, whispers and informs me that the man requests my presence...something of that nature. Mary is telling me not to and maybe we should change our seats ahahaha. I don't want to move my seat, but I am still stuck as on what to do. I don't want to be disrespectful so I turn around and give him the “one minute” finger...and then we both leap into the circle when the dancer asks if any of us wants to try hahaha. When we get out, I pretend to be engaged in a conversation...then I make a dramatic show of how I am recording the event... he didn't send anyone to bother me so that was a success. We continued dancing and dancing. Let me described to you the sweat... We saw what looked like a splash of water fly around a lot...this wasn't water. It was sweat.

The dancers were dripping with sweat and it flew off of them effortlessly. They didn't even appear to be affected by it. We were in the beginning...but after a while, we were sweating so much as well that it no longer bothered us. We took a break(finally) for lunch. The guy who had summoned me earlier seized the moment when I walked past to exit. He grabbed my hand and introduced himself then launched into a series of questions which more or less consisted of obtaining my contact information...Ahh...some Ghananian men...hahaha...but moving on, lunch was to be held at a hotel resort. SAS had to make sure that it is was to its standards naturally so this hotel was some bit away. We get to the hotel and it's gorgeous. We see another pre-sale group enjoying lunch (they had did the Sekondi and Takoradi city orientations). The place also had a pool that looked very appetizing at the particular moment. Apparently it cost 20 cedis to jump in and swim...but it did look wonderful. We get in line to eat and I'm talking to Megan and some other folks...and no soon as I get my food, she is sitting down in this kinda slump...and her eyes glaze over. Her half-filled plate starts sliding off her lap and I grab it... folks around start noticing and they offer her water before she faints. Definitely scary to see... she was dehydrated and it served as a lesson to everyone else. Folks started guzzling water and trying to cool down. After eating it was difficult to want to do anything else but sleep... but we found out that there was more to do. We would be drumming this time for the remaining 2.5/5 hours left. I wasn't planning to dance anymore but what do ya know... I danced.

Megan opted to stay on the bus. She was feeling really weak and it was sad to know how much she and I talked about this trip and her ending up missing stuff, but these things happen. We broke into two groups—one would learn the percussion aspect... and the other would learn the dance for the rhythm the drums would be playing. Knowing myself (hahaa) I decided to just get the dancing part out of the way. The instructor went easy on us in the beginning and told us not to push ourselves beyond our limit, drink water and take breaks...but shortly into it, it was back to that same intense pressure hahaha. So yeah, wasn't really feeling the whole dancing while food swished around in my stomach in addition to the humidity, sweat in the air and stuff but it ended before long. We learned some songs that I definitely can't spell or pronounce properly but that was half the challenge haha. One was a call and response. He starts off: “Wa-ya wa-ya non ko ko,” we answer, “Wa-ya wa-ya non ko ko” and that is it. We repeat it a few more times. Another (or the one most challenging) was: “la le la a ole, sala ma na eenia konia a ole...” Definitely not correct spelling wise and to be honest I don't quite know the words...but that's the closest we got to correct. Haha. We switched and I found my love. It was sooooo much fun drumming. I actually didn't want to do anything else but drum. I hid and kept drumming while folks switched off and rotated dancing. At one point I was sitting next to one of my professors and we kept laughing because we couldn't sing the song and drum at the same time. You really have to be absorbed into your part and keep repeating it mentally. Definitely difficult to do when there is so much happening and you are the heart of it as a drummer. Smiles were contagious, it was impossible not to smile. You couldn't help but feel pretty darn amazing. Oh how I love music.

We returned to the bus after pictures and things. The sweat factor was unbelievable. You could wring your clothes...that's how much sweat generated. I couldn't just stash my clothes in my hamper and wait until we left Ghana for laundry day. We already had limited water supply (we get our water from the ocean and it goes through a purification process... the water in Ghana isn't the safest to begin with so we were using what was stored until we left). My room would have smelled terrible and my roommates wouldn't have appreciated it. I wouldn't have been able to bear it. Every article of clothing worn was hand washed and from the conversations with my friends afterwards...we thought alike. Quick snapshot of Monday: I slept...and slept and slept. Woke up for dinner, ate. Went back to my room... slept some more. Woke up 9ish and flipped on the SAS channel. Watched “The Sentinel” and some of the “Sherlock Holmes movie” and Obai dropped in. Then kicked him out and slept some more... hahaha. African drumming and dancing is the ultimate mind and body workout. I recommend it for weight loss and stress management. Great fun and exhausts the entire body in the process.