They Don't Have Independence Day in France

When we got back from our week in the field, I dropped of my bag at home. Seeing as it was only 1:30, I decided to go back to the office because I had a lot of work to do still. When I got there I realized that I hadn’t been in the office for almost two weeks, and I was delighted at all the warm welcomes. Even the cleaning people seemed genuinely happy to see me back. It really made me feel good to be back, and also that I kinda belonged, since people had actually noticed that I was gone.

I spoke with one of the program officers, Mohammed, and he told me that he wanted to visit one of his projects this weekend. I was glad because it was the maternity health and child survival project, which I hadn’t worked with, but had a lot of potential for stories. However, I was not excited because he wanted to leave Friday, and come back Sunday. Not only would it take up my third weekend in a row, but I would also miss the national holiday, 6th March, Ghana’s Independence Day (52 years). Everyone else in the office would be off, except for Mohammed and I. I knew, though, that this opportunity was more important than any weekend plans, and couldn’t complain.

On Thursday, Mohammed told me that we would be leaving at 7 in the morning. I was less than excited at starting my work an hour earlier than usual on a national holiday that I had never experienced before. Later that day, though, Mohammed told me that we couldn’t find a driver to take us, since they all had the day off. I told him that I didn’t mind taking public transit, even though I knew that wouldn’t change anything. So I was free! I felt bad for being so excited, but after working 18 days working in a row, it is hard not to.

So I have to admit that Independence Day in Ghana is just not as cool as it is in America. The main attraction, which happens in all the cities and most towns, is a march by the military. It is like a parade, but with only the worst parts, and nobody throws candy.

Liz and I went in to town at 8:30 in the morning (!) to get to the main stadiumy-thing to watch the march. I didn’t expect it to be that cool, so my expectations were low. When we got there, we could only get a standing spot, and it was not really in the shade. The military marched, I bought a cold cocoa drink in a bag, the military band played music, I bought some snack in a bag that looked like funyans but tasted like Kix, and then the kids started marching. It is tradition for students from all the local schools to do a military style march around the stadium. This was the best part. The military looked very serious, and marched stiffly, just like they should. The kids, unsurprisingly, do not have the same serious looks on their faces. They are told to take it very seriously, but there were obviously a lot of giggles on their faces as they passed. Most of all, though, the kids had a beat to their step that made their movements look more like dancing than marching. It was really cute to watch, and even worth getting up early for.

The rest of Independence Day, I just kinda hung out and rested. There were not any major attractions that sounded worth going to. At night, though, people said that the clubs would be crackin.

Liz and I went to Club Enesta first, around 9:00. There were probably only six people there, so after having a beer we decided to move on. We had heard of some sort of entertainment going on at the cultural center, so we headed there next. On the way a group of about 8 girls between the ages of 8 and 12 started following us. Two of them eventually grabbed my hands, and I felt a little uncomfortable. They pretty much just wanted to hang out with the white folk, but it was still kind of awkward. Outside the Cultural Center, there were probably a couple hundred people, mostly just hanging out in groups talking. They mostly seemed younger than us. Mostly.

There was a big crowd at the door, and I saw a security guard beating at them with his stick. We decided to go have a beer at the nearby bar where they were bumpin some Ghanaian and Nigerian music. We met some pretty cool local people who are going to try to help Liz find some of the Nigerian music she likes. Also, next to the bar some women were grillin meats. We got a couple of sausages and they were awesome! The other sausages I have had here in Tamale are pretty rough. All the parts that go into the intestine are simply cut up, instead of grinded (ground?) leaving you to chew on a rubber piece that you can almost identify by the texture. I watched a guy next to Pat’s place making the sausages one day, and after that I could barely eat them. Anthony Bourdain said about sausage, “the better they are, the less you want to know what is in them.” I think that’s a fair statement.

After our sausages, it was pretty late, so we decided to go back to the place where the entertainment of some sort was going on, hoping it had cleared out a bit. It was cleared out, so we paid our $.50 entrance fee, and when we entered it felt pretty much like walking into a sauna, and a film of sweat quickly formed all over my face. This was one of the most bizarre things I’ve seen in Ghana so far. There were about 150 people in the brightly lit room. It had the feel of an old middle school gymnasium, complete with a dirty stage and gross yellow lighting, although there seemed to be a lot of platforms and stairs. Almost everyone there seemed younger than us, and quite a few of them looked like they could be ten. Smoking is very rare in Ghana, but there were plenty of young people casually toting on cigarettes. Some groups of kids, dressed in their most G’d out apparel, danced to the muffled music blasting from the exhausted amp and cheap speakers. Others showed off doing flips and handstands. Liz and I felt ridiculously out of place, mostly because it felt more like a bad high school dance than anything. It was also very intimidating. Something about this setting made me feel insecure for the first time in Ghana. We spent about five minutes there, and decided we had gotten our money’s worth. It was after midnight by this time, so we decided it was best to call it a night, and an Independence Day.