The Voyage - Day 9
Project Africa
The Voyage - Day 9 (7/30/15)
“Their skills are the penultimate example of art, talent, and ingenuity.”
I feel so peaceful and at home. Everything is beautiful. Everything feels so sacred and serene. The weather in Kumasi is even more comforting than Accra. As before, it’s still warm but always with a nice cool breeze tickling through the trees. I’m not sure if it’s because of the “tourist bubble” that we’re in, visiting all the right places and spaces or is it really a genuine acceptance and sense of serenity. Not every experience is completely pleasant and awesome though… Today we visited three Ashanti craft villages and it was a bit jaunting to say the least… There really are no words adequate enough to provide accurate descriptors for the heartbreaking beauty we are experiencing. The minds of the people are just beyond genius creativity. Their skills are the penultimate example of art, talent, and ingenuity.
Morning:
“It all just kind of breaks you down, seeing babies holding up smaller babies for food and necessities.”
1. The first of the three craft villages was the Kente Weavers at Bonwire. We walked through this dusty, trodden road lined with beautiful black faces surrounded by refuse into this small makeshift enclosure for a demonstration on how the Kente cloths are made on the looms. The brilliance of the craft is astounding. I was even given a brief crash course on how to work the loom and got to do it myself! That was the coolest thing ever…weaving the threads through each other and working the pedals with my bare feet. Once you get the hang of the movement, the coordination, it’s a smooth fusion between man and machine. That whole thing was great; even the bartering and bargaining, and pushy salesmen were ok…but what was heartbreaking and too overwhelming for me to hold back my tears, was the intense poverty the people were experiencing in the midst of all that wealth of material, knowledge, creativity, product, and skill. The children were asking for just a pen or a toothbrush. The smallest amenities are hard to come by for them. We all brought items to barter but ended up giving many of the items to the huge rush of bodies begging to be recognized and given favor. The tears I shed were for the people and for myself. It hurts not to be able to help more. Not to be able to make a real difference…I just pray that the little I could give and do makes those happy…that they can find some benefit.
2. The second craft village was the Adinkra tie-dye processing at Ntonso. It was less swarming and desperate but still so humbling… and it all just kind of breaks you down, seeing babies holding up smaller babies for food and necessities. At the “factory”, they showed us how they make the inks for their prints out of the bark – soaking and stripping and pounding and boiling and blackening – until it is ready to use. We were invited to purchase stamps of the Adinkra symbols and the cloths on which we were allowed to stamp our favorites.
3. The third, and least overwhelming for me, (probably because there weren’t many children around like in the others) was the woodcarving village at Ahwiaa.The pieces are just magnificent. I feel like it’s so easy to run out of adjectives to describe the amazingness of their skill. I was able to get the most beautiful mask spotted with black and off white splashes.
Evening:
“The pulse of the drums and the energy of the synced bodies were invigorating.”
After lunch, we drove up to visit Nana Abass and the “Black & White Powers Shrine” to witness traditional African spirituality and divination. He talked to us aboutthe ancient spiritual beliefs and the village had a special ritual performance/ demonstration ready for us. The pulse of the drums and the energy of the synced bodies were invigorating. The high priest danced with fervor for about an hour before inviting each of the 18 people in our group to come up and dance the steps of his people with him individually. I was, admittedly, a little shy and nervous about getting up there in front of all those people, but felt it would be rude and insulting if I declined my invitation when it came. So, I stomped and stepped and twirled and swayed to drums barefoot under the moon. Nana changed about 3 times to signify the different spiritual levels. After the last change, the group was invited as a whole to dance. I got completely taken by the music to the point of trance-like abandon. The priest and his aides said I was taken by one of the sprits. Everyone who was witness to my oneness with the drumbeat said the same. He held onto my head on two occasions in succession to read and acknowledge the spirit (a sign that it was a good spirit that had taken hold rather than one with bad intentions).
Amani,
Rahkua
Project Africa: Los Angeles
"A group of conscious artists endeavoring to enrich our spirit and art through cultural immersion into our historical origins"
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