Funeral and Golf Anyone?

Having been in the country for less than four weeks, we have already attended our first funeral. Isaac is Ghanaian and works for Dave as the Manager of Labor Relations. Last week he invited Dave and me to his Uncle’s funeral. Odd, I thought, but have since discovered that we will likely be invited to many weddings and funerals during our time in Africa. Evidently, for Isaac it would be viewed as a very important status symbol to have, not only his boss, but his “obruni” (white) boss, attend the funeral.

So, on a sunny Saturday morning we headed off to a small village outside of Takoradi, which is the Capital of the Western Region. May 1st is a Ghanaian holiday, and is a celebration of May Day. Since May 1st fell on a Sunday, it was celebrated on Monday. (We’ve been here for a month and Dave’s already had three holidays!) Otto and Julie (fellow Newmont employees, Cantonment Garden neighbors, and our new friends) made the journey with us.

After about a three hour drive west (past Cape Coast and Elmina, which we had visited the previous weekend), and a stop at a restroom where I actually had to pay 50 pesawas ($.35) for toilet paper, we took a right hand turn down a muddy road towards the village of Dompim where Isaac and his extended family grew up and the funeral would take place.

As usual with my blogs, a little history lesson is in order. Ghanaians live in a matriarchal society, which in the case of this country means that a woman’s brother is ultimately responsible for his nieces and nephews if the husband/father is not able or willing. Isaac was not close to his father, and considered his Uncle Kwesi Benti (aka J.K. Buadi), his father and mentor. Kwesi died on February 9th…and yes, he was buried on April 30th. He lay in state for a period of time, but I didn’t ask much more than that. Frankly, I didn’t want to know!!

In the village, Michael pulled up next to a sidewalk, where he let us out, and several men were awaiting us. Clearly, we were late as the ceremony had already started. We were escorted down a walkway where many women and children were hugging the walls. The children stared at us, which is a natural occurrence for us. All you have to do is smile at them, and they smile in return. They are simply curious, and likely don’t see too many white folks in their neck of the woods. The men who were escorting us work for Newmont (Isaac , in particular) and were assigned to us. We followed them into this porch area that was covered with temporary tents. There were probably 100 people under the tents with the coffin placed at the front of the room.

Dave led us into the “room” where we walked between the coffin and the first row of dignitaries, which included the Chief of Dompim, elders, Omanhene of Wassa Fiase Traditional Council, and respective divisional chiefs. We were told to shake each of their hands as we passed them. This all while EVERYONE was watching us and in the middle of the funeral! We were led to our seats and the service continued. Although English is the official language of Ghana, there are 24 million people comprising over 60 ethnic groups. Fifty two major languages and hundreds of dialects are spoken. Therefore, some of the burial service was spoken in English, and some in Twi (tree), the most common tribal language.

We heard from what I think was one of the sons, as well as one of his grandsons. Next, the preacher got up to say a few words, but he delivered it in the local language, so I have no idea what he said. There were lots of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs!!”

After the sermon, we could hear men outside of the area in which we were sitting beginning to chant/sing moving towards the coffin. I don’t know who they were, specifically, but a few were in military dress. They surrounded the coffin and danced around it while singing. To the left of where we were sitting, a band was situated. They began to play and the men picked up the coffin and began to proceed out towards the street. We were on our way to the gravesite.

One of the men who was accompanying us, Kofi, explained that we didn’t need to go to the gravesite, but we said we came all this way, we might as well see the whole service. He told us that he would have our cars brought over and we could drive, but we insisted that we could walk, muddy or not! So, out we go, following a walking procession towards the grave. It was just outside of the village – maybe 300 or 400 feet and off the road slightly. Remember, we are in Ghana so there is no piece of equipment that effortlessly places the coffin into the ground after the mourners have left the site. In Ghana, the pall bearers basically drop the coffin into the grave and it makes a loud noise. However, there was a slight problem. The coffin was bigger than the grave!! There was much talk, and I saw someone leave to run back to the village to get something to widen the grave.

I never actually saw what happened, but I suspect that they just started digging with their hands, and about 5-10 minutes, you heard this loud BAM! There was a cheer. Kwesi Benti was officially buried. In the meantime, there was a woman just wailing away. Again, I have no idea what she was shouting, but she was clearly upset. Kofi explained to us that it’s rare to see crying at Ghanaian funerals, in particular at a funeral of an 84 year old man. The life expectancy of Ghanaians is quite low, therefore, a man who lives to be 84 years is considered quite blessed and the funeral is a cause for celebration. This particular gentleman was obviously very loved, revered, and honored.

Back we went to the village and the reception. As we walked back under the tents, Dave introduced himself to the members of the band, and we even got a picture of them (and him). The pictures are on his blackberry as I forgot to grab my camera before we exited our vehicles. I’ll post them later. Kofi then took the four of us into a room with fans, couches, access to a restroom, and where were served cold water and soda. We were the first brought into the room and then little by little additional people were brought in. We met the Chairman of the Lands Commission for Ghana and a couple of people who worked for him throughout the country. Basically, this room was for the dignitaries and special guests. Most of the men were dressed in traditional cloth, and the pictures will better describe their clothing.

Outside of the room, the band started playing and a party ensued. We were eventually offered a variety of alcoholic beverages and food. Dave ate some meat on a stick….and swears he was still flossing it out of his teeth days later. I ate some of the rice (very spicy), noodles, and cabbage. Julie had this big, scary looking fish on her plate. She said once you got through the look of it on the outside, the meat was good. Otto….well, Otto just kept to the alcohol!

After what seemed to be an appropriate time, we took our leave, and dropped off our donation at the table outside of the room. Yep, in Ghana you basically pay to attend a funeral! Ha ha! Actually, it is the Ghanaian tradition for people who attend a funeral to provide a monetary donation to help offset the expenses, and we were happy to do so. As I turned to look back at the room we were so generously placed in, I witnessed dozens of people piling into the room! It appeared they were just waiting for the Obruni’s to leave. I probably don’t really to say this, but I will….we were THE only white people in the entire village.

On to Planter’s Lodge located in Takoradi and our final weekend destination. Here is a link to their website. www.planterslodge.com/ I told my sister that in my short time in Ghana I have already learned to lower my expectations. Pictures just simply don’t tell the whole story, and to some extent, this was true of the Planter’s Lodge. However, I will preface my story with saying that our rooms were very clean, had great water pressure, the pillows were comfy, and I’ve slept on harder beds (Newmont Guest House). The picture of the pool is really what it looks like. It’s a nice pool and very clean all around it. I just don’t think you can truly appreciate the setting until you are sitting there at 10 or 11 at night and the humidity and heat is just bearing down on you. You rarely escape the intensity of the climate here.

I like the picture of the front of the lodge. In some ways it really does look like that, but I have yet to see any semblance of a sunset or sunrise here in Ghana, so I would have love to have been there the day they took that picture. Our room was nothing like the one in the picture. This must have been the “Executive Room,” as ours was a very small room with a bed that only Matt Roloff could appreciate! Dave’s feet hung over the edge – really! Julie and Otto said their bed was standard size, so I’m not sure what happened with our room. Regardless, we spent very little time in our room and it was fine for what we used it for. Again….CLEAN! That’s the key.

After cleaning up and taking a little rest, we headed off to meet Peter, who is a former Newmont employee from Australia that worked with Julie out at the mine site and now lives in Takoradi with his Ghanaian wife and children. It sounds like he owns a pilot car business. Peter was kind enough to put down the deposit for our rooms, as we didn’t want to give our credit card information over the phone. We had a drink with Peter, paid him for the deposit, and then went to dinner at Tilly’s, a local expat favorite bar and restaurant. When we walked in it was as dark as a cave! There were very few lights – most were from the signs that were lit up around the bar! We had to use our cell phones just to read the menus! It was so funny…..or maybe it was just the drinks that made it so hilarious.

Dave and I ordered a meat pizza, and were a little nervous that there was a reason the lighting was so bad. Not to worry, the pizza was fine and in fact, the outside crust was really tasty. Peter, his wife Monica, and his friends all showed up at the restaurant, and we proceeded to drink quite a bit. No…not us! We ended up driving to another place where we had a nightcap (Tony Hilim), before making it back to our room. Just an aside here….Michael and Peter (Otto’s driver) are always available so we ALWAYS have a designated driver!!

The next morning dawned, and after breakfast we took off for the Takoradi Golf Course. This picture is of the “club house.”

Dave and I were able to rent clubs. In Ghana there are no golf carts. You walk the entire course. OK, before you start feeling too bad for us, here’s the deal. You also have caddies, who carry your clubs, your water, help you pick your club, provide you with toe wedges, and place your balls on nice tufts of grass, if necessary. In addition, there is a caddy that is out in front of the pack who follows the balls and finds it if it lands in the brush. Believe me….you don’t want to go in the elephant grass….there might be a snake in there!!

These are four of our caddies – Joseph (mine), Francis (Dave’s), Emmanuel (Julie’s), and I didn’t catch the name of Otto’s caddy. We paid them 5 cedis each for their services. Alex was the caddy out in front looking for the balls. He was quite a character and would dance down the fairway and then raise his hand when he located a ball. By the way, this is the "fairway" with the ocean scene in the background.

Joseph was a nice young man and I asked several questions of him. He is 16 years old, goes to school, and works at the golf course almost every day. He wants to be a mechanic when he grows up. He is the big brother and has a younger brother and sister. He was very curious about where I was from and why I was in Takoradi. Also, he wanted to know if I was going to come back as he would be happy to caddy for me!

This is not your typical golf course. First, the tee boxes leave a lot to be desired, but how can you argue with the background – the Atlantic Ocean. The fairways barely have grass on them, and the ball could easily drop into a hole of no return. But, NOTHING will prepare you for the greens. They are not green. They are in no way, shape, or form, a green. They are a fine black sand. No, really. They are sand greens. I can't seem to get the picture to upload, but will definitely put them on my facebook page.

The caddies would use this burlap looking sack to smooth out the line between your ball and the hole prior to putting. Otto had the best approach in that he just slammed the ball into the back of the hole eliminating any and all need for reading the breaks. Again, no picture here, but I'll get them on facebook so you know what I'm talking about.

After the 5th hole, we stopped into the clubhouse to sit down and drink a beer and a bottle of water. We were exhausted. You just can’t imagine how the heat and humidity can take it out of you. We were all sweating buckets! After a break, off we went for the final four holes. Walking up to the 8th green, we had to cross a bridge. As I so often find myself saying in these blogs….I use the term “bridge” loosely. This would in no way satisfy any kind of OSHA regulations. These were just planks lying over a ditch that smelled like a big ole toilet. We moved quickly.

Dave decided to take a picture of Otto teeing off on the last hole, again with the ocean behind him….and the man clearly taking a leak in the background. Fortunately, Dave was just a little slow on the camera, and wasn’t able to get the picture. I think that picture would have spoken volumes about life in Ghana!

Joseph and I kept my score in our heads together as there was no scorecard provided. I hit a 41 on the Takoradi Golf Course – my best score ever. The course is very short, and I did have a couple of toe wedges, but I actually golfed really well and was pleased with the day. I’m not sure if I could physically golf 18 holes in the middle of the day like we did. Nine holes were plenty.

Later that night we went to dinner at Capt’n Hooks, a seafood restaurant. Otto and Julie ordered a Lobster dish, which could have fed the entire table, plus their extended families! Dave ordered King Prawns. I’m not a seafood connoisseur, (I don’t even like seafood), but I was told that the seafood was delicious. My cordon bleu was good and French fries (or chips, as they call them in Ghana) were good and my salad was so crisp – again, something unusual over here.

After dinner we returned to our respective rooms. We flipped through the extensive seven channels available and settled on game show….”Who Wants to Be Rich,” the Ghanaian version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” Again, we found ourselves rolling in laughter. If only I could find that exact episode and make each and every one of you watch it – you would know exactly what it’s like to live and work in Ghana! I did, however, find the following clip that will give a taste -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZm4bfxW5YQ

While it’s not the exact same episode, it will give you a good idea of how Ghanaians communicate. They are often noncommittal, rather quiet, and have difficulty understanding questions. He and I were bent over in laughter, especially when the guy tries to “phone a friend.” I can’t begin to convey the humor we found in the show, but I can guarantee everyone that when you next see Dave, he can provide a blow by blow re-enactment that will have you rolling!

There are lots of stories I could share, but not really sure they are blog-appropriate. Regardless, we enjoyed our weekend out of town, allowing us to experience a little more of the Ghanaian culture, and still finding a little pleasure in things we enjoy doing in the states; in particular, golf. Even though it was hotter than HADES!!

I’m back to the orphanage tomorrow. I promise, I will put my thoughts together about this most important place soon.