Part 3: The Viewing and Service

 After the long night of dancing and drumming, we woke up the next morning in anticipation of the viewing and burial. School began as usual at 8 AM, with a prayer, the anthem, the pledge and students marching to class with the beating of the drums. Around 10 AM, the drums beat again, signaling another assembly. The students ran to the front of the school and seemed to know exactly what to do (which was good because we had no idea what was going on). They formed two long lines, and the drumbeat started and they began singing and marching in place, waiting for other classes to join. When all were assembled,  a beautiful bouquet of flowers was brought out and carried by one of the older girls, and they all began moving out of the schoolyard and down the road toward the home of the family.

We turned right off the main road and went into the village, weaving a serpentine path through the mud and daub houses, bamboo kitchen stalls and past clothes lines of colorfully patterned fabrics drying in the sun. We passed the center area, where the Chiefs were meeting around a large tree with members of the family, including the father, as well as community members. When we reached the home of the family, the students gathered in an open area outside the home's fence, and continued their songs. The teachers were led inside and we stood under the new palm leaf roof directly in front if the home. Local women were wailing inconsolably in front of the home. People were filing through the door of the home which was only covered by a hanging white sheet. The teachers began filing in, and we joined them to view the body. There were about four  women in the house. They tossed white talcum powder on Renee's shoulder which later we learned meant that this was an unexpected death. The sight of the girl instantly brought a surge of emotion and tears, thinking of the complete loss and devastation I would feel if I lost my own child. We filed out of the house and stood in the hot sun while others also went in. They had the entire student body from both the primary and junior high schools pass through the home, many of the children coming out crying. Some stayed in front of the home while others went out and continued singing and began dancing and drumming with a fervor. We soon joined them, as the heat from the hot sun beating down in a crowded space was becoming overbearing. In the area outside the home, there were groups of women dancing and singing together, as well as the swelling group of children moving to the music and singing in one voice. Some were wailing as they sang. It was such a sight of beauty and sadness, and also celebration. 

After about an hour of taking all of this in, we rejoined under the palm roof and soon the closed coffin emerged, carried by several men. The cries and singing reached a fever pitch, and all merged in one hot mass to follow the coffin through the village and into the church. 

The church service began and Renee stayed with the teachers while the rest of our group went back to eat lunch at Vinolia's and process all we had seen and heard. The whole experience was so surreal, like nothing we had ever imagined. There was so much beauty in how the community came together to support the family and grieve as one. I believe it was Emmanuel that had said that if something happens in their community it affects the whole community, not just that one family or one person.

At the church service, people filed in singing, and it began with a Catholic service. Then the priest launched into a lecture about the importance of helping others because you never know what difference it could make, that it could mean the difference between someone's life or death. There was a central tone that people should have done more to prevent this child's death. After that came songs and offering. Many children went up, dropped coins in a basket then circled the casket which was flanked by two women dancing around it, then walked back to sit down. 

After lunch the rest of us joined the church service. There is a tradition which they performed where they called up the class the child had belonged to (class 4), and began reading the attendance role. When they got to Theresa's name, they called it three times, each time the students calling back "absent". With that,they announced that her name was being struck from the school roster and crossed out. 

Burial ( part 4) to be continued....

The wake and burial part 2

The family members had brought us two bottles of local gin as is customary, to be shared by all in the group. First, the men poured it into a glass and drank, pouring a small amount onto the ground after their share. This leftover amount supposedly goes to the deceased. Molly was nervous to drink out of the same glass, but Renee was all for it. Molly convinced herself the alcohol would kill anything, so also took part. After them men drank, they passed it on to Renee and all of the locals cheered when she took a hearty shot. It was passed along the circle, and we all drank "to forget". After this custom, we marched through the village to the home of the family. On the way, We passed a large meeting of the Chiefs of the village and family members who were discussing funeral arrangements and investigating the death. At the home, a new palm leaf roof had been put up outside the home and men were hanging lights. Hundreds of kids were there dancing, drumming and singing with such a fervor it was almost trancelike. People were wailing and making special calls by tapping their mouths. The body was just inside the house behind a mud wall five feet away from the dancing. Chairs were brought out for the teachers to be able to sit and watch. They always treated us like a guest of honor everywhere we went. The celebration lasted well into the night. At times we looked at eachother and couldn't believe where we were and what we were witnessing. It felt like such an honor to be able to see and participate in such a intimate custom of this community. 

Funeral procession and burial to follow...

Meeting the Chiefs!

We are meeting the Chiefs of the village tomorrow!  We have been briefed about hat to wear, how to sit and what to say.  No crossing legs, no showing of the knees.  We have to bring 4 bottles of gin as an offering and of course, will have to partake in the traditional shot.  Here's the only problem.  It's at 6:00 AM, right before school.  Oye!

We look forward to meeting them and telling them all the wonderful things we see in Tafi.  Hopefully, we have the opportunity to also share some concerns regarding the school.  We'll see.

Cheers!

A little about our school

Our school is the Tafi Atome primary school. There are about 175 students from KG- class 6. Molly teaches class five  which includes students from ages 9-17, and Renee's Class 3 has students or "pupils" as they are called, from ages 8-14. Students begin school when their parents can afford to send them. Even though it is supposed to be a free public education, families have to pay for notebooks and uniforms. School begins at 8 AM. Some of the subjects we teach are citizenship, Religious and Moral education, English, Ewe (the local language- we combine with another class) Science, Math and Creative arts. They are supposed to have library and Computers but their teachers never take them to the library/lab facility that is down the road. We have also learned that teachers  often leave their class unattended for long periods of time and often show up hours late. It is a very different system than we are used to. Schedules are very loosely followed. This week students are practicing for a cultural competition so after lunch they are either practicing or watching others practice until the end of school day at 2:00. Students are punished by being told told kneel in front of the class or being caned. This means they are whipped with a long branch on the back, legs, bottom, hands or head. Last week we witnessed the whole of Class 6 caned in from of the entire school at an assembly. Teachers were chatting and on their phones during this display. This has been the hardest to witness and understand. Needless to say we have had much success with giving positive reinforcement to our students whom we couldn't imagine caning. It is a brutal  and cruel practice that seems only to teach the children to hit each other, which they often do. Apparently this practice has been banned according to the government but their is no enforcement and it being a culturally accepted practice, it still happens in most schools except some private schools. 

Life inTafi Atome

We are in an Internet Cafe!  After a very full day of teaching, Molly, Kris, Sage and I took a motorbike followed by a TroTro ride to a "larger city", HoHoe.  We needed an ATM :) 

Life in the village never stops.  We've seen children up at 4:30 am helping their parents open the market and hearing them sing at church late into the night.  It's grounding to see children amuse themselves with so little. Four small fruits and a few twigs make a car that they pull for hours on a string, up and down the village street.  They walk hand in hand or arms around each other throughout Tafi, laughing and joking with each other.  All are so pleased to see us and accompany us everywhere we go.

Most of their days start early with chores such as washing clothes, fetching water from the river and cleaning the school grounds.  After that, they head to school for the morning assembly held outside in front of the school.  They raise the flag, sing the anthem, march, say their Ghanian Pledge and hear some words from the Head Master (when he is there).  Their school day is often chaotic. After school, children go home and play or work on the farm, at the market or making a craft to sell.

Many families in the village have a hard time making 1 Ghanian dollar, the equivalent of 25 CENTS in US coins, in a month, so they have to be creative and truly rely on each other.  We've seen kids weave thread, work on farms, make and sell jewelry.  No one ever asks us for money.  The strong bonds in this village make it a truly remarkable place.

Part 1: A day of sadness and celebration

There are no words to express what we were able to witness today. This morning as we were standing in the morning assembly, a teacher received a call to say one of the students of the Tafi Atome school had passed away. Her name was Teresa and she was in class 4 (like 4th grade but they are all ages, more on that later). Quickly, plans were put into place for the burial and the role of the school in the ceremonies. We went off to teach our classes, (Renee class 3 and Molly class 5), and around 9:45 an assembly was called for all the children in the church next to the school. They all practiced singing burial songs. They were beautiful, energetic songs with  a simple drumbeat to each of them. Afterward, we taught some more and after school we met with the headmaster who told us to meet at the Heath clinic at "3,4,or 5:00" because they would be bringing the corpse and then the procession through the village would begin. He said to just listen for the drum and you would know when to come out and meet. We heard drums around 3:00 so we walked the three minutes down the road to the health clinic. Children came running from all directions to join. There the children were singing their songs and practicing, and soon just playing around and chasing each other. We waited about an hour and a half when finally a bright red Toyota moon van pulled up blaring it's horn and all the children rushed into the street in chaos. Soon they formed lines in front of the van ( which we found out held the family and the deceased). The children (about 200 of them) began marching and the drumbeats blared as they started singing burial songs. The teachers and volunteers joined in the procession. This felt very strange being an outsider in the community, but the headmaster asked us to be a part since we represented the school and were a part of the community now. They are incredibly welcoming. As we marched down the road, we walked next to the van once and got a glimpse of the family, who were inconsolable. My heart just broke for them, and the sadness was overwhelming. Villagers along the road all came out and were crying or standing solemly as the procession continued. The procession led all the way to the home of the family. Here, we stood and listened to songs for a bit, then the headmaster invites us to come pay respects to the family. All of the teachers and volunteers went and sat under a thatched roof hut, with 9 members of the family (all male) sitting in front of us. They spoke in Ewe ( the local language) to the headmasters of the school for a while and then the volunteers were asked to get up and pay respects. It was so strange getting up first without knowing the customs, but we just went up and shook each of their hands and said how sorry we were. It was completely obvious who the father was. He was the one with a look of complete loss in his eyes, you knew it when you saw him that he must be the father. We sat a little while longer, and sure enough they had him and the grandfather stand so we could know who they were. Afterward, we all walked back to the school together. Much of this time, we had no idea where we were going and what was going to happen next, but just figured it out as we went. At the school the headmaster informed us that we were to wait for something from the family but we're sure what. Soon, two older men showed up with a plastic sack in hand. After some words in Ewe, they pulled out two bottles of liquor and handed them to the headmaster... End of Part 1...to be continued

Next Stop: Accra, Ghana

The first leg of the trip was smooth sailing after a VERY early morning. At JFK, we fueled up on a big meal and are now settled in for the next leg. Luckily we have chargers right at our seats, and good books in our bags!