I realized yesterday that tomorrow, I will have already reached my halfway point in my trip. In a way, I can’t believe that, but at the same time, I look back on how much I have already experienced and learn, and it seems like I have been here for a long time. I am starting to realize already how hard it will be to come back and adjust back to normal life after seeing so much here. The pace of life is a lot slower than at home, so I think, if anything, it will be harder to adjust to a faster pace of life.
This past weekend, I was able to attend a funeral here. It was 100% different than any funeral I have been to before. I went with another volunteer, Stephanie. I couldn’t believe it, but there were probably 2,000 people from the community there. The line for the viewing was about a mile long. We got into the line and met someone who was willing to tell us all about what goes on at the funeral, like the symbolism and everything behind it all. Everything there was actually really cheerful, despite the fact that it was a funeral. There was loud drumming and dancing going on as we stood in line for the viewing of the 3 people that had died. One was a pastor who died tragically with the wife of another pastor in a car accident caused by the flooding roads from the rain. They basically drowned in their car. They were both under 40, so it was a shocking loss that apparently made international headlines. Most of the service was in Ewe, but the parts in English were the tributes from the families and church. One tribute, a tribute from the widow was so sad that I teared up a little. I couldn’t believe that the wife actually got up and spoke, even though she had 2 months to recuperate. Here, funerals are held 2 months after the death, and the body is preserved with cassava, a type of yam, mixed with water to make a paste, and spread over the body. It is then washed off just before the viewing. A corpse is also buried in street clothes with a jacket, gold and silver, kitchen utensils, the whole nine yards to prepare them for life after death. The only thing they don’ bury them in is shoes for fear that the corpse may come alive and walk through the town. We didn’t get to view the bodies. Before we made it through the line, the chief had arrived with his entourage fanning him and holding a shade umbrella over his head. The rule is that once the chief arrives, everyone must sit and the chief is the last to view the body. What is crazy to me is that people hardly ever cry here. I don’t know why, they just don’t. Instead, there would be loud sighs or loud sounds of acknowledgement from the audience after each statement in the tributes. It was interesting. There was also a time to offer money to the families and put It in a large bowl in the center. I offered a bit of money. Here, it is not disrespectful or weird to attend the funeral of someone you do not know.
Me and my roommate are working on making African animal papier mache (sp?) masks for Halloween/birthday celebrations. Her birthday is right before Halloween, and mine is right after, so we are having a party on Halloween to celebrate everything. I made a sweet rhino mask, and hers is a zebra. I am sad to miss Halloween at home, it is one of my favorite holidays. Ghanaians do not celebrate it. I have been running every morning this week at 6am with one of the new volunteers that just arrived. It's so nice to watch the sunrise every morning and see people opening up their shops and walking to work.
Well, have a great week everybody. I hope you are enjoying the weather getting colder as it just continues to get hotter and sweatier here. Haha.
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