"So Long, Farewell, Auf Weidersehen, Adieu"

And now it's time to say goodbye to all our family:
- Tuwohofo-Holly International School
- Akotokyir Village
- Fair Hill Guest House
- Cape Coast

And here comes John Denver again... All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...

First thing tomorrow I leave for Accra in my old friend Kofi's taxi. His fee is reasonable for the 2-3 hour trip and, unless we have traffic like we did coming here, I should get to Bettina and Yaw's house by late morning.  I'm looking forward to seeing them and spending my last weekend (ever?) in Ghana with them.

As I wrote at the outset of my travel, this trip has been and continues to be different. I came with a two-fold purpose and so my time, energies, engagement were also split between Tuwohofo-Holly International Schools' 30th Anniversary celebration and visiting senior high schools that, according to information received Stateside, had been beneficiaries of science and technology donations from PIE (Progress in Education - the non-profit created by Ghanaian-Americans to help high schools "back home").

While this dual focus created certain scheduling issues, in reality it was beneficial in that for the first time since 2003 I did not have a group with me - which meant that my 24-7 focus was not on 7-12 other people and their needs and agendas. I'm not at all certain what I would have done with myself at T.H.I.S. for two weeks had my time there not been broken up by lengthy trips visiting far-flung high schools. So, thank you, Lord, for giving me such a busy time here.

My last trip to visit a school was on Tuesday. Tony Takyi and I, in his 1991 Toyota Hilux diesel truck drove to the town of Dunkwa at the northern edge of Ghana's Central Region (Cape Coast is the principal city of Central Region) to visit Boa Amponsem Senior Secondary School. What would have taken a little over two hours on decent roads, took us almost five hours. We left CC around 7:30am and arrived at the school just before 12:30. The majority of the trip was on dirt roads and, as is typical when driving in Ghana, you drive where there aren't pot holes and rain-washed ruts. So, we drove on the left side, the right side, the middle, and on a couple of occasions off the side of the road through the weeded borders.  That's while we were dodging oncoming cars, tro tros, taxis, lumber trucks, buses, motorcycles and a few random bicycles.  Not to mention people walking to and from farms or cocoa groves or palm nut groves or women carrying large bundles of wood on their heads so they could cook for the next day or two.

We met with the Headmaster of Boa Amponsem Senior High who has been in this position since January of 2014. He assured us that no equipment or donations of any kind had been received from the U.S. in March of 2014. "If we had received anything I would have known and would have immediately written letters of thanks.  No, we have received nothing.  But we have many needs." I enjoyed meeting and talking with him and left him my business card and told him to e-mail me with what he feels are the pressing equipment needs of BASS. I had done the same at each of the other five schools we visited last week.  

 

Mr. Baidoo told me yesterday as we were talking in his breezeway "office" that his elder brother, Thomas, had been a student at BASS and that it was one of the oldest of Ghana's public boarding high schools. BASS has a large campus and currently boards almost a thousand boys with another four hundred being day students who live in Dunkwah, second only to Cape Coast in population within the Central Region.

We spoke with the Headmaster for about 30 minutes and then got back on the road for a 4 hour drive home. Have I mentioned that Takyi's truck has no air conditioning (and there is a broken spring on the passenger side of the front bench seat)?  So he puts on a nylon jacket before we hit the dirt roads outside of Dunkwah to keep the red dust from getting on his shirt. Me? I just went with the flow.

We drove an hour and a half back toward Cape Coast and stopped in the town of Twifu Praso on the Pra River. This is Tony Takyi's home town and, as is always the case in Ghana, he called out to a few folk as we drove through the center of town. Tony had brought the TLG team here for a day back in 2013 and while in town we were formally hosted by the Chief of Twifu Praso and his elders in the "courtyard" outside the palace (the village chief's home is called his palace).  It was also the day that a few team members tried "bush meat" (in this case a very tasty antelope stew) in a local chop shop.

The only way to cross the Pra River at Twifu Praso is by means of an old out-of-service narrow gauge railroad bridge - the only vehicular route across this wide active river. As you drive across this one-lane bridge you cannot help but wonder whether cars really should be driving over railroad tracks even if there are timbers in place between the rails. But we made it safely both times and stopped in Twifu Praso for a mid-afternoon lunch: FuFu and Light (spicy) Soup with half of a fried fish floating in the broth.  FuFu is Ghana's national dish (a separate posting required).

We got back on the road after a half-hour break, put more foo-el into the truck and Tony dropped me off at the Fair Hill Guest House around 6:30pm.  Tony, of course, did all the driving and I know he was exhausted because driving in Ghana, particularly in the rural areas, means constantly slowing down to go over humps, swerving to avoid pot holes, hanging on for dear life when you hit a washboard stretch, and breathing easy for about 3 minutes when the road evens out.  Still, he told me again and again, "Prof, I like doing this. I have not been up here in a long time and it is good. Anything for you, Prof."

So, another long, long, long day on Ghana's back roads was finally ended.  My clothes, were red with road dust (of course I had worn light khaki cargo pants while Takyi had dark slacks on). So as soon as I got to my room, my clothes went into the plastic bucket in my bathroom and soaked in soapy water all night.  But, it was worth it.  The ten hours of driving, the frustration of finding that no donation had been received, the positive impression made by the Headmaster, the time spent talking with Tony and learning about life and education in Ghana. All of it was definitely worth it.  Would I do it again? Not this week; but...

In addition to the above reasons why the day was worthwhile is this one: the Headmaster of Boa Amponsem Senior Secondary School knows that this was important enough to us to drive all the way from Cape Coast to meet with him for thirty minutes and that is something not lost in a relational culture such as Ghana's.

And, equally important, I now know firsthand how really difficult and challenging it is to be so separated because of poor roads.

Ode to Kotokoraba Market: on the theme of Joni Mitchell's "They Paved Paradise and put up a Parking Lot"

I went to the Market the other day
And when I got there it had gone away.
The entrance where I used to go in
Was blocked by fencing and a high wall of tin.

But now how do I get into this place?
I want to go see my good friend's face.
She sells Shea Butter, sponges and soap
But the man at the gate looked at me and said, "Nope."

"The market traders are no longer here
And they won't be back until sometime next year."
But where did they go and why did they leave?
This was something I simply could not believe.

"We're building a new market of mortar and stone,
One that a fire would leave well alone. 
The old market was shabby, its stalls rather flimsy.
We wanted a safe place. One not created by whimsy."


But where is my friend and how will I find her?
"I haven't a clue. It's not my day to mind her.
Some traders have set up their shops under umbrellas.
Go look for yourself; now be a good fella.







So I wandered around through the open bazaar
Seeing no one I knew though I looked near and far.
Until walking down one of the new alleyways,
Someone said, "I know him!" and that made my day.

I had taken her photo three years in the past
And given her a copy hoping it would last
And be a remembrance of the Bronyi she'd met
Like mine an experience never to forget.


I asked of my friend who sold the Shea Butter
And she told me to follow but mind all the clutter.
We passed stalls of rice and of beans and bananas,
Then down some stone steps and there stood smiling Hannah!

She laughed when she saw me and her smile was just grand
She used to tell all my students I was her long lost husband
Who only came home every two or three years
Then they'd all laugh together till almost in tears.

The plan is to build a new city Mall
With shops, stores, and stalls appealing to all.
To be modern and contemporary is Kotokoraba's fate.

In the language of Ghana, the old market is "late."

 

Church & Soccer, or Faith & Football, or The Pew & The Pitch

Sunday, June 26, 2016, was a very interesting day for me on several different levels. Essentially, only two events took place: attending morning worship at Calvary Assembly of God Church in Kakomdo Village in the morning; and attending the celebration weekend's culminating soccer match on the "field" in the center of Akotokyir Village in the late afternoon.

As different from one another as these two events were in substance, they were for me virtually identical in impact; and they took me back almost 50 years to my first year of teaching Social Studies at Gifford Junior-Senior High School in Gifford, Florida.

In all three settings, I was the only white face in an otherwise black world. Actually, at Gifford High there were four other white teachers during the 1967-1968 school year; but when it came to traveling with the football team to away games, I was frequently the only white person in the stadium. It did not bother me then because these guys were my guys; but the total racial, and cultural, reversal of what my life had been prior to that year was also not lost on me. And I have been reflecting on these disparate, yet similar, experiences.

In 2010, the Teaching & Learning in Ghana team was blessed with a wonderful Tro Tro driver by the name of Dominic Ato Mensah. (A tro tro is essentially a mini-van outfitted with 3 or 4 rows of bench seats and serves as the most common form of public transportation in Ghana. While in-country we always chartered a tro tro to carry us around Cape Coast while we worked in schools and visited various cultural and recreation sites.) Dominic invited us to come with him and his wife and young son, Samuel, to their church, The Calvary Assembly of God Church in Kakomdo Village for a Sunday worship service. We had such a wonderful time worshiping and getting to know the congregation, that when some of the same team returned as part of the Fulbright TLG-2011 program, and found that once again Dominic would be our tro tro driver, they all insisted that we make this church our Cape Coast home church. Despite our traveling, we were able to worship with them two or three times during our six weeks in Ghana. Therefore, when I saw Dominic at Tuwohofo-Holly International School last week, he happens to be one of Mr. Baidoo's nephews, I told him I'd like to go to church on Sunday and he said, "I will pick you."

So, somewhere around 9:15 yesterday morning, Dominic, his wife, son and a friend, picked me up in his tro tro and we drove to church.  Dominic drives a regular Cape Coast - Accra - Cape Coast route every day, usually leaving Cape Coast around 4:30am carrying passengers to and from the capital city. Depending on the demand, he often makes two round trips in a day which keep him on the road in traffic in a non-airconditioned vehicle for 8-10 hours.

When we arrived at church, "Sunday School" was in session. In this case, there were at least two and maybe three different classes going on simultaneously in the church - each class sitting only a few rows away from the others and each with its own teachers.  All of this was occurring in Fante, which meant I could not understand anything the teacher closest to where Domininc and I were sitting was saying unless he made reference in English to a particular passage of Scripture.  Dominic's wife was sitting with her class in another section of the church.

The service began to begin around 11am with singing, exhortation, instruments playing loudly, and people joining in on the songs being sung - all in Fante and none of which I even knew the tunes to - but, I could harmonize and guess the tune patterns. So, I listened as best I could to those around me and attempted to mimic the words they were singing.  The emotions expressed and the engagement and investment of the congregants gave ample understanding that they were singing praises to their, and my, Lord.

Pastor Isaac Koomson was present in the service but did not preach yesterday. One of the elders, a professor at the University of Cape Coast, delivered a sermon on, from what I could gather from the scriptures he used and his infrequent comments in English, the rights accorded to the children of God and the inherent responsibilities those rights include. He preached for the better part of an hour which was difficult for me since I could not understand any of what he was saying so I was forced to continually remind myself that I was in his church and he was ministering to his people.  But there was no doubt or question as to the message he was presenting or as to the devotion he and his congregation expressed toward the Lord they worship.

Below is a poem I wrote several years ago in an attempt to deal with how essential it is that people hear and understand the gospel of Jesus from within their own cultural and linguistic framework.  After all, as Lamin Sanneh has so eloquently written, Christianity is a religion of the WORD and the word is always and only understood in translation.
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Heart Language Hymn

Among those who translate the Bible, the term “heart language” refers to the language with which a person feels most comfortable and at ease. It is the language of his heart.

Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. And at this sound the multitude came together, and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language. And they were amazed and astonished, saying, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us in his own native language?”

(Acts 2:5-8)

Evangelical Covenant churchmen on retreat in New Hampshire

sing Store Gud in mother Swedish.

Chinese faithful in a Qingdao church praise Shangdi

in a tongue millennia old.

Ghana Assemblies of God folk at Sunday morning worship

raise Fante hymns to Ewuradze, the Lord.

There is something unique and special about Heart language.

It speaks to the soul as well as the ear.

It comes unforced, unfettered, untampered.

It releases and frees.

It allows the voice to soar.

It invites the spirit to rise.

What lives in the deepest part of us

is what motivates, inspires, and reveals

who we truly are.

Therefore, we sing first with our hearts

and then with our voices.

Lord, help me to know your heart language

for I want to sing

with You.

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Sunday afternoon was another deja vu exerience - a football (soccer) match between T.H.I.S. teachers and T.H.I.S. alumni.  At least that was the intent; the reality was that there were more alums than teachers and so the guys combined and created two teams who played a roughly regulation match, complete with team jerseys and a referee.

The match was played on the Akotokyir Village football pitch in the center of the village. The only grass was located along one side where people sat to watch the play.  The "field" was roughly the size of a typical soccer field, hard-packed dirt with patches of loose sand. There were goal rectangles but no nets. Nor were there any markings to indicate the field's borders - unless you consider cinderblock houses and seated spectators as boundaries. Of course, given that spectators are mobile, the "boundary" on that side of the field was frequently expanding and contracting according to where the play of the ball was.

The play was fast and furious and the players extremely skilled.  Shoes were optional as several players were barefoot or in stocking feet throughout the match. The referee was good and kept the game moving and even called a couple of Yellow Cards but since everyone playing was friends with everyone else, there was very little arguing - a good deal of rough and tumble in the dirt fighting for balls - but little arguing.



Once again, as in church, I was the only white face among the several hundred watching the game - the little white guy with the camera taking pictures of the players, the spectators, and especially the dozens of children

constantly gathered around me mugging, making hip hop signs with their hands as they faked tough guy grimaces, and begging to be "snapped" and then see themselves in my camera's view screen. To those who knew me, I was "Prof"or "Dough-nald Claa-ree-ko" and to everyone else I was "Bronyi."  I wasn't a member of the community but neither was I an outsider who didn't belong. And it was OK.

And it's been OK virtually everywhere I've traveled in my life: Viet Nam, Taiwan, England, Holland, China, Thailand and, of course, these past 15 years visiting Ghana. 

...and behold, I am with you always,

even to the end of the age.

(Mt 28:20)

A Long and Busy yet Incredibly Fulfilling Weekend of Celebration

It's difficult to know how to write about the Tuwohofo-Holly International School 30th Anniversary festivities that took place all week at the school and culminated in Saturday's 3 1/2 hour program. Since this is Ghana, Mr. Baidoo's printed start time of "10:00 AM PROMPT" actually didn't occur until 10:15. Prior to that, from about 9:30am, Mr. Baidoo, his elder brother Thomas, and I sat in the plastic arm chairs common throughout the country under a tree in an open area between two of the school's buildings. (This is Mr. Baidoo's favorite place to sit. His home is partially visible in the rear left)

Around 9:45, the Chief of Abura Village, Nana Kodwo Addae II, dressed in his official "cloth" and wearing his chief's necklace, bracelets, and sandals, joined us. He is a wonderful man who was a year behind Mr. Baidoo in elementary school and has been on the board of T.H.I.S. for many years.  He was also the chief who performed my enstoolment (Ghanaian chiefs sit on a stool not a throne) as T.H.I.S. Development Chief in 2013. He conducted my day-long ceremony because there has not been a chief in Akotokyir Village since the elders drove the last one out several years ago - which is a whole other story all together. As a concession to modesty and decorum, I opted not to wear my cloth as 12 yards of fabric wrapped loosely around one's body has a tendency, for me anyway, of becoming a train in the dust behind me.  So I dressed "western" in jacket and tie but with my chief's necklace and bracelets.

 

Just before 10am, the Akotokyir Village Elders, all wearing their "cloth" arrived and additional chairs appeared and after each one greeted each of us, they took their seats, and we waited for Mr. Baidoo to decide it was time to begin.

Around 10:15 he decided that the preparations were sufficiently in place in front of the Catholic church across the dirt yard from the school and so he got up and we all began to make our way to the seats under the Head Canopy.  The celebration space was bounded by 4 huge canopies rented from a local agent with plastic chairs under each and each designated for a particular population.  To the right of the Head canopy were the students (all dressed in matching blue golf shirts with school logo). Opposite the Head canopy was a double canopy for Parents and Community; to the left of the Head Canopy was the canopy for Alumni and the disc jockey who provided music before and during the program.

When you meet and talk with him, you would never suspect that he in many ways is Ghana's version of P.T. Barnum. No one puts on an affair like Augustine Ato Baidoo and anyone who has been to Ghana as part of the Teaching & Learning in Ghana Program can attest to this surprising aspect of his personality - quite possibly one of the reasons T.H.I.S. has continued to exist and excel for 30 years.

There were invited officials from the area including school officials from the Cape Coast branch of the Ghana Educational Services. Despite the fact that T.H.I.S. is private, the school is well-respected by GES folk and Thomas Baidoo, Ato's elder brother, is a retired Fante language teacher who still heads up the scoring teams for the national Fante language examinations. Also making appearances, though at different times so they wouldn't be together, were two individuals running for Parliament in November's elections (representing the two biggest political parties). Each of these folk was invited by Mr. Baidoo to address the crowd. The second candidate is currently a teacher at Wesley Girls' Senior High School (one of if not the best girls' schools in Ghana) and her husband teaches at Mfantsipim Boy's High School (also one of the top 3 in the country). So, while I am not partisan politically, I have to lean toward a fellow educator come November. Besides, she came dressed for the occasion. 

There were speeches by invited individuals, poem recitations by students dressed in traditional garb, and also a really well-done skit on the dangers of teenage pregnancy. (I know, I know, "At an anniversary celebration?" But, yes, it was exceptionally well done by the students, loved by the crowd, and I recommended to Mr. Baidoo that they take it on the road and perform it at other schools.)

There was singing and dancing and a good deal of that was by members of the audience as they came up to the platform and dropped Cedis bills (Ghana's currency) on the heads of performing students - bills that were gathered up and put into a plastic basin set on a stand.  

And there was "An Appeal for Funds" conducted for almost 20 minutes by one of the more energetic faculty members.  Unless you have been to Ghana and experienced an appeal for funds, any description I might attempt would be futile.  Find someone who's been to Ghana and ask them to explain.

The program ended as it began, with prayers of gratitude for God's blessings over the school's thirty years of existence and requests for continued guidance, direction and blessing in the future.

Mr. Baidoo and I said goodbye to Nana Addae and the Akotokyir Elders, shook hands with all the folk under the Head canopy, and then made our way back to his humble home where his wife, Mary, had prepared a lunch for him and I and Anthony Takyi, my new best friend and driver around the Central Region visiting high schools. He is also the newly-promoted Director of Planning and Statistics for Cape Coast Schools.

After lunch, Tony dropped me off at the Fair Hill Guest House and I crashed for the rest of the day.

Tuwohofo-Holly International School: THIRTY YEARS of Educating Ghana's Children

Chief Enstoolment Ceremony, 22 July 2013

Prof Don Clerico

Nana Kobina Tuwohofo II

2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2007, 2010, 2011, 2013, 2016

Remarks on the Occasion of the Thirtieth Anniversary of the Founding of Tuwohofo-Holly International School

Akotokyir Village, Cape Coast, Ghana, West Africa

25 June 2016

Fifteen years is a long time. Yet, fifteen years seems like an instant, a moment, the blink of an eye. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I landed for the first time in Accra and traveled to Cape Coast and Akotokyir Village?

Wasn’t it the day before today that I was marveling and feasting my eyes, ears, nose, and mind on the Ghana that enveloped me? Not the Ghana of the internet, not the Ghana of a travel guide, not the Ghana of others; but, my Ghana—the Ghana that opened its arms and welcomed this O’brunyi from the other side of the world. The Ghana of smiling faces, of “Akwaaba!”, of children’s voices saying, “Brunyi, Brunyi, how are you? I am fine, thank you!”

The Ghana of Akotokyir Village—home community of Ato Baidoo and his wife, Mary; home of his elder brother, Thomas and his Mary; home to the hundreds of Ghanaians who live in its houses and spend their days as farmers, tradesmen, university instructors, market women, construction workers, taxi drivers, and teachers.

The Ghana of Tuwohofo-Holly International School—educational creation of Ato Baidoo and named in honor of his father, Tuwohofo. A place where over the past thirty years thousands of children have come to study, learn, and discover the world. A place that has prepared and sent hundreds of its students on to Senior

Secondary School and to University. A place that has seen its students excel in national examinations, in athletic competition, and in musical performance. A place that has been like a second home to me and more than fifty of my students and has forever changed our lives.

And, despite its limited resources, the constant need to maintain and upgrade expensive buildings and grounds, and the annual search to find the best teachers for its students, Tuwohofo-Holly International School has continued to thrive and demonstrate its excellence to the entire Cape Coast region.

I have spent my life working in schools—as a student, a teacher, a headmaster, a supervisor, and now as a professor who prepares others to become teachers. I know how hard it is to operate a school—particularly a school that does not receive any help from the government.

Tuwohofo-Holly International School is just such a school.  It cannot call the Ghana Education Service and say, “Help us; we need books; our students need desks to sit in; the roof of our JSS block is leaking, and someone broke into the ICT Lab and stole three computers. Please help us!”  But there will be no help; only a message saying, “Sorry; you are on your own. You will have to help yourself.”

The only way Tuwohofo-Holly International School can help itself is through the school fees paid by its students and donations from generous people who believe in the good work being done here. But, mostly, it’s the fees you pay that allow the school to hire good teachers, to purchase learning and testing materials, to repair and improve the buildings and grounds, and to make certain that your children get the best education possible.

I know it’s not easy paying school fees. I know it’s hard. There are always too many things to pay for and too few Cedis every month. But education is so important. It is the best way to help your children grow and develop and become confident, successful adults.  Education is the key to making sure your children are the best they can be and Tuwohofo-Holly International School is the best place for this to happen. 

Your children will be the leaders of Ghana in the future and they must have a good education in order to be good leaders. They will be the farmers, trades men and women, carpenters, mechanics, computer technicians, doctors, and teachers. And who knows? There might be a Member of Parliament or a Government Minister or future President of Ghana sitting right here! The education your children are

receiving at Tuwohofo-Holly International School today is preparing them to lead Ghana and the world tomorrow! Believe me when I say that this is a great school! It gives your children everything they need to help them grow and develop.

So, let me congratulate those of you who are part of this excellent school—you who are its teachers and leaders; and let me congratulate you who have sent your children here in the past, and you who send your children here today.

And now, in conclusion, allow me to recognize and honor my good friend, Mr. Augustine Ato Baidoo—founder, headmaster, and motivating force behind Tuwohofo-Holly International School. It was his dream to create a school in Akotokyir, his home village, and to offer the best education possible to the children who live here. He has devoted the last thirty years of his life to making this dream a reality and in so doing he has changed the lives of thousands of children through his dedication, leadership, and commitment to them. Therefore, when we celebrate this school we are also celebrating him.  

What you may not know is that Mr. Baidoo’s sphere of influence is so much wider than Akotokyir Village, the Central Region, and even the country of Ghana. Tuwohofo-Holly International School and Akotokyir Village have forever changed the lives and attitudes of every one of the fifty-four American teachers who have traveled with me over the past fifteen years. As a result of our experiences here, children and families in America, Indonesia, China, and Morocco are benefiting from what we have learned from you.

CONGRATULATIONS, Tuwohofo-Holly International School on your thirty years of success and we wish you thirty more! 

CONGRATULATIONS, Augustine Ato Baidoo on your vision, your leadership, and your commitment to this wonderful school! It is a fitting tribute to who you are as an educator, a man of vision, and a Ghanaian who loves his country and its children.

Medase!

Medase!

Medase!