Last night the rains came.
The tin rooftops across Nima echoed, the doors creaked and my overhead fan waged an endearingly pathetic war with the roaring winds outside. For the first time since arriving in Ghana I had to pull a sheet across myself to keep me from the cold: a minor adjustment, and then back to sleep.
The tin rooftops across Nima echoed, the doors creaked and my overhead fan waged an endearingly pathetic war with the roaring winds outside. For the first time since arriving in Ghana I had to pull a sheet across myself to keep me from the cold: a minor adjustment, and then back to sleep.
'If you were born on Thursday, get up, get up and dance!'
And with that I was thrust into the centre of the circle and made to showcase the finest of my dancing talents. Thankfully I have an undeniable elegance when it comes to spontaneous dance.
'Everybody be happy, get up, get up and dance!'
We were in the middle of an intense three hour drumming and dancing workshop overlooking the sands of Cape Coast. Antoinette- big, busty and beautiful- was sitting astride her African drum and bellowing at the group of hopeless obrunis in front of her.
'Feel the Rhythm!'
Antoinette is formidable: the only female master drummer in Ghana. She was told that drumming would make her barren but she took no notice.
'Move your bodies!'
She now has her own drum and dance troupe and works alongside a group of inspirational women known as the Global Mamas, seeking to transform the lives of women in Africa.
'Smiley smiley!'
Bodies were aching, sweat was pouring, smiles were abundant.
And with that I was thrust into the centre of the circle and made to showcase the finest of my dancing talents. Thankfully I have an undeniable elegance when it comes to spontaneous dance.
'Everybody be happy, get up, get up and dance!'
We were in the middle of an intense three hour drumming and dancing workshop overlooking the sands of Cape Coast. Antoinette- big, busty and beautiful- was sitting astride her African drum and bellowing at the group of hopeless obrunis in front of her.
'Feel the Rhythm!'
Antoinette is formidable: the only female master drummer in Ghana. She was told that drumming would make her barren but she took no notice.
'Move your bodies!'
She now has her own drum and dance troupe and works alongside a group of inspirational women known as the Global Mamas, seeking to transform the lives of women in Africa.
'Smiley smiley!'
Bodies were aching, sweat was pouring, smiles were abundant.
Cape Coast is a former slave trading base: an imposing castle overlooking an expanse of sand and sea. The sea-stained walls hardly indicate a World Heritage Site but its faded grandeur evokes an enchantment and mystery so apparent in the buildings and beaches of Ghana. It is the juxtaposition of beauty and neglect: a careless charm.
The town is now a thriving fishing community and an easy three hour drive from Accra (or two and a half if your trotro driver pays no heed to speed limits or oncoming traffic). I spent the weekend here in the company of two fellow hostellers, breathing in the sea air and further accentuating my tan lines. We ventured to the heights of Kakum National Park to complete the 'canopy walkway': a set of seven rope bridges set high above the trees. We were assured that each bridge could hold the weight of two African elephants but, as I looked down at the expanse of cracked wooden plank and waning rope before me, I could not help but wonder when they last tested this theory. We walked and we toured and we drummed and in the evening we sat beneath the palm trees looking out to sea, 1L sangria carton in hand. But for the absence of a decent cocktail jug, it was perfection.
I am yet to fall in with the rhythm of Accra. At times it runs like clockwork, energetic and exciting, and at others it is unpredictable and frustrating, pushing and pulling but going nowhere. In Ghana, being born on a Thursday labels me the 'quiet observer': an impossible feat as an obruni in this frantic city. 'It's nice to be nice', the men keep reminding me as they grab my arm in a bid for friendship or trade. Be nice but firm, my friend Joan advised me. And for goodness sake don't marry anyone.
Charlie however is marrying somebody. My big brother marries Emma exactly four months today. And, with African drumming and dancing firmly under my belt, that dance floor has my name on it.
Charlie however is marrying somebody. My big brother marries Emma exactly four months today. And, with African drumming and dancing firmly under my belt, that dance floor has my name on it.