Yesterday was a holiday - there was holiday traffic in Accra. Today was a business day - there was weekday traffic in Accra.
We left the office midday to head off to a meeting - but the roads had different ideas of how we should spend the next hour and it wasn't sitting around a boardroom table. That would come later (after we'd made calls apologizing for being late due to traffic).
In the meantime -I thought I'd expand on a post I once did - that listed all the items for sale by hawkers in traffic...
This time it's a visual account. Enjoy!!
When traffic came to a standstill, the hawkers lined the streets fully ready for business...
Tiger nuts. These fibrous little balls grow in the ground and taste like coconut... Personally my mouth just ends up full of dry little bits after a while. Not my snack of choice...
Pillows. This guy was definitely hoping for a bulk sale. He was swamped by his wares!
Pirated DVDs - usually with three sets of indistinguishable subtitles embeded... they sell pretty much anything from Africa movies to American series, but the 'shoot 'em up movies seem to sell best...
Designer ties! No less than Burberry, Gucci and Giorgio Armani. Notice the white gloves for his delicate merchandise.
"Wanna buy a watch" - I get visions of a guy in a long trench-coat.
Loved this seller's t-shirt. Canadian Idol!! He had a complete barbering set and a scale for sale...
A single pair of men's shoes. He was really convinced I might want them. How did he know they were my size?! :)
Shoes for the whole family. Now that's more like it!! Especially liked the USA flip-flops.
Boiled peanuts (which are quite good and as addictive as any snack food), and dictionaries...
Ties.
Popcorn (sweet or salty)
Plastic wall clock. Like gold!
Unrefrigerated yogurt drink. I always fear the wrong kinds of active bacteria will be in there after a day in the sun in traffic...
Basketballs, footballs (Soccer balls) - these must do well...
Salted cashews and cashew butter - yum!
Handkerchiefs - everyone seems to have one in Ghana for everything from sweat removal to nose blowing.
Various power bars and sockets and even a universal television remote. This guy was a walking hardware store.
This was my favourite. The portable gym - Tummy Trimmer AND a scale to check if it's working!!!
Last but not least - the lord Jesus poster. The bigger the better for your lounge.
Today was a public holiday in Ghana. In fact it was a dual holiday - on the one hand (the Muslim one), Ghana celebrated the end of Ramadan with the Eid ul-Fitr end of fasting celebrations. Ghana's Muslim population makes up about 45 percent of the population of about 22 million. And on the other hand (the political one), Ghana celebrated Kwame Nkrumah's (Ghana's first president at the time of independence from Colonialism) Birthday.
We headed off to enjoy the holiday for neither purpose really, but figured we'd head down to a friend's beach house all the same.
What we encountered however was a traffic jam like no other... Apparently the mosque had just let out and we turned down the wrong (or right!) road.
While JW cooled his heels in the stop-start traffic for about 45 minutes along a 500 metre stretch of road, I snapped happily away with my versatile iPhone...
Accra's Muslim community were out in full force in killer outfits.
Below - some of the scenes of the day:
A lady stops to buy some fresh paw paw (papaye) from a roadside seller.
Someone is watching me too!
This lady is dressed to kill! Great shades and earrings!
The guys move in groups...
And the ladies too!
Even the little girls are all dolled up for the day. Looking lovely.
A senior lady in some gorgeous cloth...
And new moms dressed up with baby in tow!
This young guy was all dressed up and had his prayer mat ready.
And finally - as we started to move and the throngs of people thinned - this truck drove by with a 'humbling' message...
Living in a foreign country provides so many opportunities to look at language – specifically the language you take for granted as your own – in my case English – and look critically at how it is taken for granted as universally understood.
The truth is that language is more of a cultural and societal construct than we realize.
Last night I got a call from one of my Ghanaian colleagues:
Me: Hello?
GC: Hello
Me: Yes, hello?
GC: Good evening
Me: Good evening (This exact banter comprises the beginning of every telephone conversation in Ghana – except if it’s morning, then there is the good morning greeting…_If you are very unlucky, the hello, hello, hello can go back and forth up to 10 times. I’m not kidding)
GC: Holli, please can you tell me, what is a jackass?
Me: (amused) What?! A jackass is like an idiot, why?
GC: OH! That is serious then! Well I was reading on the Internet that President Obama called Kanye West that word.
Me: Well it’s true. He is a jackass. But Obama did not say that officially! It was ‘off the record’
GC: Off the what?
Me: Nevermind. Is that all? Don’t you guys know the word jackass?
GC: No not at all. Is it anything like baloney? (This refers to a conversation we had two years ago when George Bush visited Ghana and in his speech said that the rumors that the US wanted to build a military base in Ghana was ‘a bunch of baloney’. This was totally lost on most of Ghana…)
Me: (Laughing) No! Not like baloney…
GC: Also, what does he mean when he says ‘cut the President some slack’?
Me: Oh, well he just means to give him a break, not be so hard on him…
GC: Wow. Americans have some funny English!
Perhaps they do… It’s just that phrases we know seem so normal, so obvious…
When I hung up I decided to write a little list of phrases that are common in Ghana in English, that I found bizarre when I arrived:
1. 'We know ourselves' – meaning we know each other
2. 'We’ll advise ourselves' – meaning we’ll reconsider or think twice
3. 'That girl is tough' – meaning she is chubby or big
4. 'I’m getting bored' – meaning getting annoyed
5. 'Please, I’ll alight here' – used in a vehicle, meaning I’ll get off/out here
6. 'I’m going to buy provisions' – nice fancy old colonial word for groceries
7. 'Bend right or pass right or curve right or branch right' - when giving directions it means simply to go right
8. 'I had a blast last night' - refers to a tire blow-out on a car, NOT a fun time!
9. 'He is a 'blow-man' - this refers to a fighter - used alot when identifying characters in action movies
10. 'What's for chop? What did you chop?' - referring to food - what's for supper, what did you eat?
Can anyone else give me some examples of how English is a whole different thing, depending on the where and when??
Well it’s apparently official – I’m an E-mom. This is not a good thing. It makes me feel like someone who’s past their prime, trying to be young, hip and cool (a cougar? - hanging out in nightclubs thinking they pass for 20 something but just not cutting it in their leopard skin tights...).
The thing is that I joined facebook quite a while ago. I have a network or friends and contacts… My children also joined facebook. The opportunities for overlapping were there… Of course they accepted my friend requests, and some of their friends even ‘friended’ me… so I thought it was all ok.
But I was wrong. Apparently if you have children, you must be old and by proxy, have no business using social networking sites – because your children are on there and that is their domain … and you are a stalker!!!
Watch this news piece on the phenomenon below…
Are all mothers so uncool? I just feel lumped into this category now - ashamed and utterly uncool. I feel like the pimply pre-teen outcast in Grade 7… who has tried to join the chat in the cafeteria with the cool girls, and they all turn and look at you in stony silence.
Should I retreat? Give it all up to spare my children the embarrassment?
The real issue is that once parents are on facebook, any photos of their children that are uploaded (and tagged), can be viewed and even saved by their parents… And I admit guilt here. Our college aged son is half a world away, across continents even! We are really easy going, non-pedantic, open minded parents. But it’s nice to ‘see what their up to’ from time to time… there have been a few times it would have been better NOT to see though… The truth is that those years are all about finding your footing. Learning how much partying you can get away with, and still make it through to a degree. I suppose if you come out the other end having had fun and succeeded, then no harm done.
But how would I feel if the shoe were on the other foot? If my parents could have seen into my social world when I was a teenager – with evidence of every out of control party, and tweets professing that I was too hung over to get to class … well. I guess I would be equally horrified.
I am so glad the world has only taken this turn toward complete social invasion – with constant updates and photo proof of everyone’s movements – AFTER I got through the teenage years and college.
Not sure my parents would still be talking to me if they’d seen what I see now!
We encountered quite a few signs like this on our 5 hour Sunday drive back to Accra from Axim this weekend. Could never find out why (there was a shortage)... but it happens from time to time. Ignorance is bliss for me when it comes to matters like this anyway.
At least they were polite about it...
And inside the shop they had warm coke (power was off), and melting chocolates for the drive! :)
Under Ghanaian law, male homosexual activity is officially illegal. Criminal Code 1960 - Chapter 6, Sexual Offences Article 105 mentions unnatural carnal knowledge – and homosexuality is included in this description.
Coming from Canada, one of the most liberal countries in the world (especially with regard to homosexuality see map of sexual freedoms here), it’s almost shocking to me. The topic does not impact my life directly, but I am a definite believer in human rights, and so the subject holds a certain importance.
This topic can spark heated debates if ever broached with Ghanaian colleagues in my office – though I am usually a lone warrior for the cause, inevitably against a tirade of Christian rhetoric about the evils of homosexuality and the belief that it is an illness that can be cured, or at least prayers can be said to cure a person of it.
Today I came across this article on Ghana’s popular Joy FM site. I found it interesting both that the issue is in the forefront of the news in Ghana today, and that there is now an official Gay and Lesbian Association of Ghana (GALAG), with a spokesperson who is not afraid to appear in public. This says something.
The article points out that Ghana’s heros have come out publicly in support of gay and lesbian rights,
“Nelson Mandela said that he considered “homosexuality to be just another form of sexuality that has been suppressed for years”; Kofi Annan, a former UN General Secretary, supported gay rights with a move to extend benefits to the same-sex partners of UN staff; and as well as signing the UN declaration calling for the decriminalisation of homosexuality, Obama also recently spoke at a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) Pride event, describing homophobia as an example of “worn arguments and old attitudes”.
Yet deeply entrenched cultural attitudes in Ghana die hard. There is a widespread belief in Ghana that homosexuality is a morally deprived lifestyle choice of the west. That it is not something inherently African, but a cultural export from Europe and the Americas. Interestingly there are more and more vocal African raised advocates for gay rights - including Cheikh Traoré, a half Nigerian, half Mauritian Muslim, raised in West Africa. He is currently an AIDS educator in the UK, and speaks openly on growing up gay.
Locally though, tolerance for diversity can be lacking. A Ghanaian born and bred gay man describes his alienating experiences in this article. BBC even covered an article on the subject last year.
The official line in Ghana – even from the minister of human rights – is that Ghana is ‘not ready’ for Gay and Lesbians as an accepted group. Again, it is individuals that suffer.
My amazement in all this, is that in general, Ghanaians are far more comfortable with human closeness than any western culture. It is a common sight in Ghana to see two grown men, walking down the street hand in hand, or with their hands lingering in embrace when they greet an old friend. None of this is seen to threaten a man’s sexuality. I love this about Ghanaians. In contrast, in North America and the UK, where opinion is supposedly more liberal, straight men would never been seen in such close contact with a male friend. They commonly squirm and cower away from male to male hugs, and insist on a rough pat on the back just to assert their ‘maleness’.
In Ghana, in certain instances, cross-dressing is accepted if not named. In the heart of Jamestown (a rough and poor neighborhood in Accra’s south centre), there is a man I’ve seen many times in wigs and skirts. “He’s a bit mad”, I’m told. It’s all in good fun. No one bothers him and he’s free to be himself. I suppose his perceived mental illness grants him reprieve from societal scorn…
Again, I find it amazing that homosexuality is so abhorred by Ghanaians, when - if any Ghanaian will be honest with themselves - they know all about a common practice called ‘Supi’ – which is basically a condoned (or conveniently ignored) form of lesbian relationship that develops in boarding schools between older girls and the ‘freshers'. It is seen as a way for girls to develop their sexuality, but not viewed as homosexuality outright, despite the physical relationships that develop between the girls. I would love to discuss this particular topic further and encourage my Ghanaian friends and readers to contribute…
The bottom line is that no matter what the law states, or whether outside pressure will convince Ghana to decriminalize homosexuality, it will continue to exist, despite any raging debates in Ghana and beyond about whether being gay is chosen or genetic, cultural or contrived... and individuals will continue to struggle with their identities, mostly in private.
The issue becomes quite difficult for gay visitors or even expatriates who enjoy a level of acceptance in their home countries and find themselves in a place where the very act is illegal! I know legally married same sex couples who have come to Ghana on official government posts, only to be forced to hide their relationship, for the sake of appeasing the laws of the country. Some gay travelers websites warn couples about the laws of Ghana here.
Despite this lack of tolerance though, there is a small but thriving gay community. There are even a few very gay friendly bars. I’ve been to a few ‘gay friendly’ parties, with mostly local revelers, that were some of the most fun and memorable in Ghana. After all, the gays in Ghana are Ghanaians. They have the same innate friendliness and act as ambassadors for the country just as well as other Ghanaians do. They are the sisters, brothers, sons and mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts and others - of the close-minded ones. They are individuals of this society, part and parcel of it. I personally think the place is better off for it.
Whenever we make the westward drive down Ghana’s coast, I am reminded of one of my favourite childhood books – Where the Wild Things Are. Not because there are wild things (though certain things you see along that road could be considered quite wild), but because we pass through long stretches of thick rainforest. The wall of trees makes me feel like Max in the wolf costume, watching the imaginary forest grow, and I expect the huge yellow-eyed monsters to come lumbering through the branches…
I am always jolted back to reality when the forest is broken by a village, straddling the road, goats, chicken, children, women in rollers and men in ill-fitted suits… a slice of rural life, cut through by the rushing 4x4 we inhabit.
This weekend, after a presentation in Takoradi to the Oil and Gas sector (in my pseudo professional capacity), we headed further along the coast. Our destination: Lou Moon Lodge near Axim. It’s a wonderful oasis among the chaos that is Ghana. It’s run by a Belgian couple who have worked out perfectly how to take the best of the quaint village (using traditional thatch structures and local rock formations), and mix it with the sophistication and calm of a European spa. With no electricity in the area, they run all modern amenities completely on generator. They have also lucked out with a great little corner of Ghana’s mostly rough coastline. The 11 room hotel is built on a tiny, calm bay where you can swim without fear of the undercurrent sucking you along with it. Anyone visiting Ghana should make the 5 hour drive from the capital Accra – it’s worth the headaches in traffic and the increasing police roadblocks cum extortion points…
What always strikes me on these trips are the massive contrasts; the (not always peaceful) meeting of two worlds. The modern meets the ancient, the haves meet the have-nots, or more accurately, the haves pass swiftly by the have-nots on the roadside.
As we left the resort after 24 hours of pure rest and relaxation, I noticed a young guy from the sea side village next door, standing at the top of the unpaved hill. He was maneuvering himself to get cell phone coverage, which is intermittent at best... It dawned on me as we bumped along further in 4 wheel drive, that there is no electricity for miles. How do they charge mobile phones?? This is a village that is bathed only in moonlight from 6pm each evening. Where traditional drums are used for ceremonies and for calling villagers to attention. Yet he had a cellphone. Contrast! Ghana...
Below, a snapshot of the Ghana we drove through, to and from the resort.
Beautiful regal trees, tower above everything - remnants of the thick massive rainforest of the past...
But in some places, too much human waste is winning the battle against nature...
Sometimes the colours of the village are like a live painting - vibrant and beautiful and almost defying description.
There is always an array of snacks to buy - this lady sells roasted plantain and in the characterstic blue plastic bags - fante kenkey - a dish famous in the western and central regions - it is a firm maize porridge, fermented and wrapped in plantain leaves and then sold in the blue bags. No less than 100 ladies tout these pyramids along the coast.
Another fante kenkey seller, Ama Adoma, where we bought two bags on special request from a Ghanaian colleague back in Accra. (Many of the ladies name their stand after themselves, or a suitably hopeful religious quote).
Closer to Accra some strong armed boys sell yams.
At one of the tollbooths (which charge a mere 10 pesewas (equivalent to 10 cents US and seemingly hardly worth employing staff...), I saw this sign... WTF??!!! I can't even guess what the name is supposed to signify..HUNGBARK...?!!
I couldn't resist this one - it's an advertisement for a school... in case it's too blurry, it's called: Peculiar Child Academy. There was another one quite near it called Virgin Kids and Secondary School... How can they be sure? And why the word AND? Ghana does have it's mysteries...
All of this and so much more on a business trip/holiday weekend drive! I'm a lucky girl with the opportunity to see so much life around me to be in the place of others, observing, learning, growing...
Hi Readers! I feel like a junior celebrity today. Ok, very junior. Today my humble blog was visited by the author of a well read, well written Canadian design blog, Poppytalk and she took the time to look around, read some of my ramblings and... yes - post about me!!
It feels great to see my blog header there, in plain view, in colour, on a real website!
I do realise I've exposed myself as a small-timer here, reveling in an imagined 15 minutes (seconds?) of fame... but hey! Take it where you can get it.
Now it's up to me to step up to the keyboard, and write down all the crazy stories that have made up the patchwork of my 13 years here.
Thanks Poppytalk and thanks Ghana for giving me so much material to work with!!!
Two weeks ago when the gender controversy about South Africa's 800m runner Caster Semanya was bubbling, the biggest concern out of South Africa was the humiliation that she would feel, with her gender and indeed her entire sense of self being questioned.
Numerous sources cited other examples of how this public scrutiny could damage a person's psyche - the most poignant being the recent case of Santhi Soundarajan who was stripped of her silver medal in the 800m in 2006 after failing a gender test, and later attempted suicide.
All interviews with Caster's family, friends and community at large have described her as a tomboy - a girl who favoured trousers and football to lipstick and boyfriends... They were all adamant that she is a girl, and that the world should abandon the ridiculous and judgemental notions of what a girl should look like, be like...
So it shocked me today when I was flipping through the channels on DSTV (the South African pay-TV platform that broadcasts across Africa), and came across a commercial for YOU Magazine. The woman's weekly mag was promoting their latest issue, "WOW - LOOK AT CASTER NOW! Athletics star Caster Semenya as you’ve never seen her before – transformed by YOU from powergirl to glamour girl". The photos show a glammed up Caster, looking about as uncomfortable as humanly possible.
What pathetic exploitation! You take a very masculine woman (her appearance and interests being the main aspects that brought about the questioning to begin with), and then completely take the humiliation to a new level by dressing her up in sequin dresses, dripping make up and size 13 stilettos...
I'm guessing Caster's appearance in this photo shoot is about as far from her personality and style as is possible. Whatever possessed them?
It completely makes a mockery of the athlete. The bottom line is that, in order to try to prove to the world that Caster is female, they have made her a laughable media pawn, looking more like Wesley Snipes in drag in the comedy 'To Wong Foo', than any glamour girl.
Sad. To me, it seems all they have done is perpetuated the rigid gender roles that someone like Caster never fit by nature, and forced her into the mold - the result being a complete disaster, at the expense of yet again, her identity, dignity and sense of self.
I’ve always been amazed/intrigued/amused by the roadside posters in Ghana. These enterprising artists advertise their work with the most kitsch drawings… It’s not uncommon to see a slightly asymmetrical Osama Bin Laden, raising a toast (with a local Star Beer in hand), to George Bush and Kenny Rogers… all portrayed in oil colours on the canvas of a 6 foot plywood board…
I also discovered a few years ago, during my work with artisans in Ghana, that the typical barbershop signs, made by these same artists, had become quite popular in some art circles in the USA and Europe. I even bought my son one when we redecorated his room, but having grown up in Accra for the majority of his life, he didn’t appreciate the kitsch factor and thought it stupid to pluck a badly drawn painting of three guys with various geometric hair designs up on his wall… so the idea was scrapped… but I digress. These paintings can be found online, selling for between $200-$400 each!!
Today I learned another industry has embraced the art of our beloved Ghanaian roadside painters… the movie industry! Look out Hollywood – here comes vintage Ghanaian movie posters – advertising so much more than the original film intended… The history as explained in my source site:
“In the 1980s “mobile cinema” operators in Ghana traveled from town to town creating temporary cinemas by hooking up a TV and VCR onto a portable generator and playing the films for the public.
Artists were hired to paint large posters of the films for promotion, and were given the artistic freedom to paint the posters as they desired - often adding elements that weren’t in the actual films, or without even having seen the movies. The “mobile cinema” began to decline in the mid-nineties due to greater availability of television and video; as a result the painted film posters were substituted for less interesting/artistic posters produced on photocopied paper.”
On this great art appreciation blog, I found an article that explained the history of the posters, and when I looked further I found many sites that have been selling these unique bits of Ghanaian 80’s popular culture – again, averaging $200 each, despite their raggedy condition.
Here are a couple examples – I also found the ‘real’ movie posters for the films.. quite the artistic license I must say!!!
You gotta love the head in the field eating someone's amputated arm... oh, and the red bugs coming out of the lday's head. I just can't figure out why she's only in a bra?! And the main guy there looks like a bad cross between Beetlejuice and Freddie Kruger! :)
The real poster is just so dull in comparison!
With this one, it appears the artist may have seen the actual poster, but decided to localize it - Bond and his female companion have become browner.. but I can't make out what the huge red fish is for?!! Then there is the issue of tenses - the spy obviously still loves this girl!
I bet Bond never knew he was a black star in rural Ghana!
One of the annoyances of living in West Africa is the fact that I can’t use my credit card. Now to be fair, this is mostly a cash economy and I really don’t purchase many things that require a credit card, but if and when I need it, I cannot use it.
Back in my early days in Ghana, 1997 – 2003, I was a lowly volunteer with no credit card to use. My first experience with fraud was during my parents’ epic journey across the waters, to visit me in my new ‘homeland’. My dad was uneasy about just about everything, and just to exacerbate the problem, he got called to the bar at the hotel – where we were all lounging around the pool (me in heaven at the decadence!) – and on the other end of the phone was Visa International. They explained that his card had been used in a global whirlwind of purchases, ever since he used the card at the hotel and a restaurant two days earlier.
All these years later, in the modern age of online bookings, I’ve had to recently contact my offshore bank and go through the highly laborious process of changing the billing address from Ghana to Canada.
JW and I travel a lot for work and as many holidays as possible, and it has become impossible to book car rentals, hotels or air tickets.
We tried to book online with Emirates and South African Airways in the past month and both times their Ghana website states that due to excess fraud, tickets must be paid for in person within 48 hours of booking online. This totally defeats the purpose of booking online! Gone is the convenience of not having to get through insane midday traffic to make a purchase. The only benefit now is that you can choose your seats in advance…. Whoopee!
Ghana has their own word for this rampant fraud now – rivaling the Nigerian 419 scams – the Ghanaian term is Sakawa. Cyber cafes in the Nima slum run a booming business… rows and rows of 17 – 25 year olds (mostly guys), lit up behind the monitors, with the intense sounds and smells of the gritty streets outside, drowned out by the dream of getting rich quick.
This month Ghana’s government has announced their plan to “set up an emergency Cyber Crime Response Team, to review existing legislature governing the Information Communication and Technology (ICT) activities and strengthen the country's cyber security.”
I hope that this makes a difference, but if we look to ‘big brother Nigeria’, the chances are slim… There is just too much promise for those with the cleverest new scam. Easy money is too tempting to a population of impoverished kids who long to emulate the bling bling, gangster deifying rap stars of the USA, and there are no tangible repercussions… except for those of us who want to use our credit cards in Ghana – legally! Users beware...
There has been quite a debate raging at my office and in the house, and I’m sure it reflects discussions going on globally this week. It’s about Caster Semenya, the gripping controversy surrounding her 800m gold medal win in Germany, and the subsequent doubts as to her qualification as a ‘true’ female.
It’s actually quite amazing that this story has become such a globally followed issue, but for me, as for many others, it is so interesting because it involves both the human side and the not-so-simple science of sex and gender.
I’m sure there was a day not so long ago when gender was viewed as a cut and dry issue by the majority of us – if a person had the external sexual organs associated with either sex, it was accepted that the person was that gender. Since then science has delved further and discovered a variety of cases where this simple identification is just not as straightforward as we’d thought. There is a very interesting 'Intersex' association in North America that answers many of the questions here.
In terms of sexuality, more and more people are identifying themselves as transgender – and are convinced that they are ‘in the wrong body’. There are a myriad of combinations of sexual orientation, along with gender identifications. One of my favourite stand up comedians, Eddie Izzard, commonly wears traditionally ‘female’ clothing and identifies himself as a ‘male lesbian’ or a ‘straight transvestite’. Are these people right or wrong? Who are we to judge?
But when it comes to the case of Caster Semenya, if we look for a minute beyond the personal side – beyond the fact that the media coverage her case has attracted is no doubt humiliating and demoralizing – there are the complicated yet unavoidable scientific and ethical issues.
There are pictures all over the Internet of Caster now, with everyone trying to scrutinize every aspect of her appearance. The fact is that she has the complete outward appearance of a male.
Her speech and mannerisms confirm that view.
So when then is a girl not a girl? If Caster identifies as a female, who are we say she is not?
If Caster is subjected to all possible tests, there will be one of many possible outcomes; anything from true hermaphroditism (where a person possesses both male and female sexual organs, internally and/or externally, to variations like male pseudohermaphroditism or a type of gonadal dysgenesis. The bottom line is that it goes far beyond a simple physical inspection of someone's 'private parts'!
There have been numerous cases in the western world, where these conditions are diagnosed at birth, are closely monitored through childhood, and the child is gender assigned, based on their tendencies. I believe if Caster Semenya had been born in different circumstances – i.e. not in a rural village with no access to expensive modern medicine, she would have been one of these people.
Accounts of Caster’s life only reinforce this. She is said to have identified always with boys – and competed on par with her male peers in school throughout her childhood. However, due to the fact that she had no visible penis (and this is really the only reason), she was assumed to be a girl.
The biggest question is an ethical, moral and philosophical one. It has been my opinion that if a person is found to have a Y chromosome, to possess more than 3 times the testosterone as the typical female (as in the case of Caster), then they have an unfair biological advantage over other females (in terms of muscle development etc.), and hence it would be unfair to compete against 'entirely female' women, especially at this level.
Another perspective (that of JW) is that if the person has been classified at birth as a female, with no outward evidence that this is not the case, then she should be able to compete regardless. Her biological advantage is something she is lucky to have, in the same way that people with higher IQs have a biological advantage to others when it comes to academics – yet we all compete on the same level, regardless of the advantages of the smarter people.
It is a very intriguing debate!
However, this is not a theoretical issue. There are victims. The very sad side of this story is Caster herself. As far as she is concerned, she is a woman. Despite any questions she or others she knows have had about her appearance, she is simply a tomboy… however, the IAAF has strict guidelines that may just determine that she is not in fact female. This would mean they would have to strip her of her medal. Imagine the devastation! Not to mention that the whole world (including me) is currently debating her gender. It is a controversy that she has found herself trapped in, through no fault of her own.
In 2006 Santhi Soundarajan from India, was robbed of her silver medal after the same type of controversy about her gender. Raised as a woman, this blow devasted her and soon after she attempted suicide.
Gender may not be as simple and straightforward as we’d once believed, but it remains a delicate and taboo subject, and when questioned, can have devastating effects...
I’ve always had an incredibly suspicious view of religion. I guess we are all products of our upbringing to an extent, and neither of my parents were religious, despite the fact my father was raised a Catholic. There was no mention of God or church in my house, and it all seemed quite fine…
My first encounter with church was a mixed experience, and it went progressively downhill from there. Somehow at five years old I had been enrolled in Sunday school with a friend. The fun part was the bus that picked us up and dropped us off. We sang silly songs (which I’m sure were geared toward familiarizing us with the Lord’s word, but was utterly lost on me), and best of all they gave us little toffees called Mojos. Looking back it seems like shameless bribery! However, at the time it seemed great. Free candies and songs…
The actual Sunday school was in the back of a church, smelled musty and looked like a dusty store room. We sat on metal fold out chairs and made crafts out of uncooked macaroni, sparkles, Elmer’s glue (always a bit too much was used so that it oozed out from under the macaroni…), and paper plates. I was unconcerned as to the significance of the guy with the beard and the cross. I was always just waiting for the ride home for more Mojos.
I promptly forgot all about it until around the age of twelve one of my friends invited me to church with her family. I asked my mom and her answer seemed strange. “If that’s what you want, by all means go and check it out”, or something along those lines.
I think it was an Anglican church. It was all very stark and somber. Everyone was white and middle class. Everyone dressed up, but not too flashy. Lots of brown and grey suits. Dull floral dresses and sensible shoes… and it was BORING! There were hymns that no one knew the words to, but opened the booklets in the pews and made a half-hearted attempt at mumbling through, along with the priest/pastor. The actual sermon was irrelevant in it’s topic and content. I wondered why anyone would consider the tribulations of people centuries ago, given that the world had changed so much.
It seemed like the longest hour of my life – akin to math class, where I always had to come up with clever ways of keeping myself awake.
I never went back.
When I had a Jamaican boyfriend in my later teens, his sister invited me to her ‘revival’ church. Wow! That was the closest thing to a pop concert that I could imagine a church to be. It was held in a huge hall and 95% of the worshippers were black, despite the fact that it was in downtown Toronto. Everyone was dressed to the nines – big hats, flashy dresses, snake skin patterned suits (it WAS the 80’s…).
There was an air of excitement as everyone made their way in, serenaded by a full gospel choir with a rock band accompaniment. When the preacher took the stage everyone cheered. He was an ex-WWF wrestler, turned born again preacher. This seemed like a major career change until I compared the both - on stage, performing.. I guess it was a good fit. He preached with vigour and might, enthusiasm and omnipotence. It all seemed so happy and lively until he started with the ‘scare tactics’. I was shocked when he brought out the old testament threats of fire and brimstone… I looked around and the people looked entranced, like docile lambs. Why would they believe this stuff? Why would they come every week to be threatened with supernatural horror movie style afterlife nightmare speeches?
And then came the ‘healings’. There is a Steve Martin movie that comes to mind. In the movie he is a ‘preacher’ who does a completely bogus ‘healing roadshow’…
One after another, people went down to the front and fell willingly to the ground when the ex-wrestler’s chubby hand touched their forehead , some in crumpled heaps, some rigid and convulsing like epileptic seizures, many in tears. I was amused but flabbergasted.
There followed obligatory dancing in the aisles and I slowly realised the insistence on everyone getting up and moving was a ploy to get each of us to pass by the collection box. Extortion!!!! And this church service lasted close to 6 hours!!! I never went back.
In the meantime I had been learning about evolution in biology class – I found it one of the only truly interesting topics. And I couldn’t help but think how drastically these scientific theories contradicted the simple teachings of the bible – with the 7 days God created the earth, and the clay moulding of Adam with Eve as his rib… It confirmed to me at the time that religion is a tool in society/culture; something that gives simple answers to the questions that in reality none of us can comprehend. The world and it’s creation is beyond any of us, so how preposterous for certain people to claim ‘the knowledge’. How even more preposterous to teach that there are certain rules of conduct that ‘please’ a god…. More mind control….
This was all before I headed to the mind-opening years of University, and my sojourns in Africa where I came to learn so many more things – where I saw the similarities of the Christianity practised by Afro-Canadians and the continent they ultimately came from. Where I learned about traditional religions and colonialism and power struggles and politics and the role of Christianity and Islam... but I’ll blog about them tomorrow.
Thanks Esi - for inspiring my contemplation on the topic today in your great blog post.
Things I used to associate with the country Turkey:
1. This silly song, that is very catchy by The Four Lads - originally released in 1953, covered by They Might Be Giants in the early nineties...
2. Turkish delight (a disgusting jelly like candy sold in squares, dusted with icing sugar) comes from there.
3. The country's name is synonymous with the festive food (read dead bird) centerpiece at Christmas and Thanksgiving
4. The country's name can be used as an insult, by calling someone 'a turkey' - implying stupidity and simpleness...
5. They made it into the International news for wars, violence and corruption over the years..
That's about it really.
THINGS I NOW KNOW ABOUT TURKEY:
1. Turkey is bordered by 8 countries! Greece, Bulgaria, Georgia, Armenia, Azerbijan, Iran, Iraq, Syria (and even Cyprus if you count that...)
2. It is divided into 81 provinces and is very different geographically and culturally across the provinces
3. Turkish is a completely unique language - unlike Arabic or the European languages
4. Turkey is a Muslim country but in the cities it is rare to see women covered up, and drinking is completely accepted
5. Turkey has amazing tourist areas, and even an area called the Turkish Riviera that is made up of a series of south facing bays, that are tourist magnets every summer - complete with great beaches, restaurants and nightclubs (some of the best in the world - Ibiza has nothing on the southern Turkey nightclubs!)
6. Istanbul was the capital city of the Roman, Latin and Ottoman Empires
7. St. Nicolas (later known as Santa Claus) was born in Patara, Turkey
8. Istanbul is the only city in the world built on two continents!
9. Abraham (of biblical fame), Aesop and Homer were all from Turkey
10. 70% of the world's hazelnuts come from Turkey
11. It is illegal in Turkey to make fun of Turkishness (can you imagine?)
12. Mustafa Kamal Ataturk, who founded the Republic of Turkey in 1923 is the country's hero, and his image is displayed EVERYWHERE - homes, boardwalks, businesses, bars - everywhere.
13. Turks have a long standing rivalry with the Greeks
14. The island of Rhodes in Greece is closer to Turkey than to the Greek mainland
15. Parts of Turkey are absolutely beautiful - mountainous, warm, lakes, lagoons, beaches, and numerous famous ruins dot the countryside.
Excuse my silence, but places like this inspire awe, and silence. And for the past three weeks, these are the types of scenes that I've awoken to - in Dubai, around the south of Turkey and on Rhodes Island, Greece.
And now I'm back in Ghana - back to reality. Reviews from the holiday to follow - but for now - soak this in!
With Obama’s visit come and gone – been there, bought the t-shirt (two actually) – Accra has returned to normal.
Definitely the Obama family had a profound effect on the country. Firstly, the cities of Accra and Cape Coast were literally brought to a halt on Saturday, and the circling helicopters made us feel their presence.
Apart from that, there was a buzz in the air, and all radio and TV stations were focused on the historic visit, following Obama on his few planned and strictly controlled visits. The streets were lined with supporters - with flags, scarves, t-shirts...
Everyone wanted some little part of Obama – of the fame, the hope, the power that has now come to signify his name. This was a visit that topped any of the other foriegn dignitaries or prior American presidents. Ghana and Africa felt a deeper sense of connection, they claimed to welcome Obama HOME. There was a wild pride in the air...
But Obama did more than shake hands and smile and feed the politicians of Ghana and Africa what they wanted to hear. He was firm in his speeches, asking the African leadership to take responsibility for the future of Africa. He focused on the US supporting Africa’s independent development and made some giant steps away from the typical western leader’s promise of never-ending aid. At his farewell address at the airport he pointed out the Peace Corps volunteers and asked that if these youngsters had come so far to work in the communities, there was no reason that the youth in Ghana and in Africa could not do the same. And he was right.
In a way, I believe that only Obama could have gotten this message across without any repercussions of being labelled racist. After all, he is considered ‘one of us’ among Africans.
This is a point that has annoyed me during the presidential campaign last year and the ramp up to his recent visit.
How is it that a man who had an absentee father (who happened to hail from Kenya), but was raised completely by his white mother and grandparents and Indonesian step-father, far from Africa, can be called an African man?
Surely we cannot forget the woman that raised him single-handedly, with the support of her own family, while his father lived out his life continents away with other wives, other children. Where is the acknowledgement for those that played the key role in his biological and cultural upbringing, when Africans proudly exclaim Obama’s blackness and African heritage?
It all seems a bit hypocritical, if not deceptive.To put it in perspective for Ghanaians - it would be like Scottish people taking credit for the accomplishments of J.J. Rawlings. It would be like other Europeans welcoming Jerry 'home' back in his heyday, for being the first 'European' leader in Africa. But we all know that despite Jerry having a Scottish father, he is culturally a Ghanaian and there is not much of a connection between him and Scotland. This is because his father did not play much of a role in his life, and he was raised in Africa as an African. The same is true in reverse for Obama...
I agree that Barack Obama has the X Factor, that he is extremely intelligent and an excellent motivational speaker. He is one of the only politicians that I honestly believe has positive motives for genuine change.
Whether Africa or Africans or black America can take the credit for a man with his history and upbringing is quite another story altogether.
I think it’s fair that we ALL take pride in such a leader, globally, and stop harping on a simple biological fact that did not entirely shape Obama’s character.
He is a global citizen, an American, and a figure for positive change. He is not technically a BLACK man nor culturally an African – and it doesn’t matter in the least!
The pre-Obama frenzy is in full swing in Accra. But instead of the excitement felt by the rest of the world, locally we are reeling at the extreme measures being taken by the Obama-planning-and-security-committees, that will render the city of Accra and Cape Coast completely at a standstill for most of Friday and Saturday.
As we walked down to our local luncheon spot in Airport residential area today, the skies above us were alive with the drone of military helicopters – circling, circling.
Rumours are growing and spreading and mutating about where Obama will stay, what time he will arrive, what time he will leave and everything in between. It is generally agreed now that all roads around the airport will be closed from 7pm Friday evening until most likely Saturday night or Sunday morning. All office buildings in the area will be completely evacuated and even the regularly scheduled commercial flights will be cancelled or rescheduled. The airport is to be emptied completely from 7pm Friday night. This is serious!
The latest I’ve heard is that the Holiday Inn will be evacuated, including staff, and completely sterilised by American security personnel. This gives me the impression that Obama and his family will sleep there.
The roads will also be closed – but no one knows which ones, from what time etc. So we’re guaranteed to have mass chaos... I also just read that Ghana has vowed to dedicate 10,000 police officers to the Obama visit – both in Accra and Cape Coast. I find this amazing, if not completely impossible – given that the entire Ghana police force is less than double this number. Imagine the logistics in a feat like that?! It all makes the mind boggle, that the 24 hour visit of one man and his massive entourage, could cause the complete immobilization of a city!
The usual last minute city clean-up is also underway – the teams in overalls can be seen, weathering the seasonal rain, white wash painting all the curbs on the roads the Obama delegation will drive down, as well as American and Ghanaian flags posted at regular intervals along the main boulevards. This is standard practice whenever a foreign dignitary visits. But this time it is on a much higher scale. There is a drive by authorities, who are not afraid to use physical force, to remove all of the hawkers and beggars that line the streets of Accra daily.
Today’s Graphic newspaper, dedicated to Obama’s visit, describes the clean-up: “The recent exercise to clear the central business district and other parts of Accra of street hawkers and traders gives a vivid posture of official intolerance to general indiscipline before and during the visit of Mr. Obama”.
I read with interest and melancholy, a letter to Obama, posted online, with such care and detail - by an average Ghanaian, who, like others, has so many high hopes from Obama's visit. She mentions how many thousands of poor rural Ghanaians will be making the long journey to the capital with the remote hopes of 'catching a glimpse' of the President. But this is post 911, and this is OBAMA. What chance will the average Ghanaian have to get within 10 city blocks of the world's most highly protected and revered man?
Well we hope that the visit goes well – Obama’s speech (to be delivered to a select, private, invited audience), will no doubt be inspiring – they always are! – and no doubt the international media who follow him here will be abuzz with feedback. There are numerous online forums set up for live discussions during his visit... and at the end of the day, when he goes, Ghana will definitely be on the world map. But by Sunday the roads will open and the average Ghanaian will emerge (now allowed back on their streets), jumping puddles on their way to church - and apart from their new commemorative t-shirts, life in Accra will be back to normal.
You have to hand it to Ghanaians for enthusiasm. They have put together a music video showcasing about 10 of Ghana's well known pop/hip-life artists - all in honour of the Obama visit.
Alot of the song is in Twi, but I've captured some of the english verses here:
ASEM: "Ever since I set eyes on you Barack I felt good like I bought a new Cadillac. I talk about you to my Granny, I have pictures of you and your Granny. And I heard that you won a Grammy. When I get mine it will make us family!"
ECHO: "Is the first time in Africa To see a hero in America. Is like seeing a Godfathah Welcome home Obama.
You you you you Fathah of the Nation And we are proud to have you here Obama Obama Obama Welcome to Ghana..."
‘Friends For Obama Ghana - Welcome Home!’ Are the words that adorn hundreds of strategically placed posters around the Accra city sprawl.
Welcome Home? I know we are all getting excited for the imminent visit of the most famous American president (of all time?!) – certainly during my lifetime. But these posters are a testament to the completely unrealistic expectations that the world, and especially Africa has placed on this man. An American man with partial Kenyan heritage. How can he solve the problems of the world? Africa will not be his number one priority – how could it be? Obama is the American President - and no matter how much enthusiasm we generate in Ghana, he will never be a Ghanaian and this will never be his home!
We cannot be so naive as to believe Obama is visiting Ghana simply to reaffirm his African heritage, to acknowledge his roots – if this was the case he would be visiting Kenya!
Everything is political – especially for politicians! Ghana recently announced the discovery of oil. Within two years we have become visible on the American radar, to the extent that we will have seen the visit of two presidents! Coincidence? I am no conspiracy theorist, but hey...
There is also the less known issue of America’s determination to establish a military base in the region. Ghana seems the most stable, the most inviting environment. Again, no coincidence.
So as the world has been following Obama’s recent travels, the streets of Accra have been showing signs of the growing excitement around his visit – which still remains shrouded in mystery.
Which hotel will he stay in? When will he arrive? Will the streets be blocked? How tight will the security be?
As life has gone on seemingly as normal around here the last month, there have been numerous security exercises carried out quietly under our noses. Obama’s team has sent over 100 security personnel in advance, to take care of every little detail in preparation.
When Bush visited last year, his entourage took over the two largest 4 star hotels in the city/country. I know this because our company had a prebooked conference of 80 people that was unceremoniously bumped, without warning or compensation.
The visit of an American president is a big deal – especially in a developing country like Ghana where there are only a few hotels that could cater for the entourage, and there are basic things to ensure, like running water and continous electricity supply!
But Obama’s visit is even bigger. He is the world’s hero, the ‘blue-eyed boy’, to coin an ironic phrase... Obama chose Ghana and has angered Nigerians and Kenyans alike. The Internet abounds with theories on why he has forsaken the others. Ghanaians are full of the pride they do so well.
Obama fever is here! There is Obama wax print cloth being printed with fury – in time for the people to sew commemorative outfits in his honour. I have to get my hands on some of that – even if just for the kitsch value. Banners with Obama and Prez. Mills huge beaming faces line the streets. There is a palpable excitement in town.
I had the privilege of a VIP ticket to this year’s Ghana Fashion Weekend on Saturday at the Conference Centre in Accra (quite impressive!), and as I sat in the front row, I was not surprised to see the Obama themed collection of t-shirts by Jojo Costello, strutting down the catwalk, pinned tightly around the young female bodies. One of the t-shirts stated “My President is Black”. Obviously this did not in fact refer to President Mills of Ghana, who actually IS black. But Barack Obama, who is not Ghana’s president, and is not technically black.
At the finale of the show, the organiser, Mr. Ibrahim Sima of Exopa Model Agency, wore a shirt that read, “YES WE CAN, AND WE HAVE!” It was a great Obama-positive message – though I am confused as to exactly what Ghana has to do with the achievements of Obama in far away America. But we were of course all caught up in the enthusiasm, and when he made the statement aloud, the room was electrified with the energy of the cheers of the crowd.
Obama is coming! And to the people of Ghana, despite the reality, he is coming home!
My cheek is smudged with red clay.
African soil keeps me grounded, dirty, alive. Gives me perspective and cause for alarm. Dusty, wet, preoccupied by irony and deceit, beauty and angst, the fragile and the strong.
Beads of sweat trickle down my spine over time and through the valleys of this continent
for over a decade.
I could escape it but only tangibly.
The unmistakable pattern of living this life in this place is a tattoo etched on my psyche, coursing through my veins. Forever.
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