I was walking through the market today and I came across this gem of a CD. It's become my new favourite song and artist, check it out below! I dedicate this to anyone who has had to sit on a 7+ hour bus ride across Africa while bracing for bumpy roads, chewing on dust, and having to endure either a Nigerian movie or excessively loud gospel music.
As I was saying, I was walking through the market today, when from behind me...
OOOBRUNI! (WHITE MAN!)
Obibini! (Black man!)
*group of young women go wild with laughter*
EEEEEYYYY!!!! Wo ti Twi? (You speak Twi?)
Ahh! Me nti paa, nanso me suyan. (I don't understand well, but I'm learning)
Debi, debi, debi. Wo ti PAAAAA! (No, no, no. You speak VERY WELL!)
Wo fro e sen? (What do they call you?)
Kwadjo. Na wo ensuee? ("Monday born". And you?)
EEEEYYYY! Me din de Adjua! EY EY OBRUNIIII! (I am also Monday born. What a coincidence.)
Wa ya dieeee! EH!!! (You've done well!)
Me dasi. Me dasi. (Thank you. Thank you.)
EEEEEYYYY!!!! Wa ya dieee! (You are doing so well!)
*words I sort of didn't understand*
Ahhh! Debi. Me n'pe yele. (No, I would not like a wife.)
Nehh. Me ni yele. (No, I also don't have a wife in Canada.)
AHH! Adien?!? (Why?)
Eyyy! Ma ka-kra. (I'm a small boy.)
Tssk! Adien wo ba-ha? (What are you doing here then?)
Me adjuma Suame Magazine. (I work in the Suame Magazine.)
Eh? (Eh?)
Ma engineeeeah. (I'm an engineer.)
Huh? (Huh?)
A fittaaah. (A fitter = engineer.)
EY! A-hhaaaaaaa! Obruni Obruni!
M-mmmm! Madamfo, nsuo bra. Me ko fie. Me ba achina. (My good friend, the rain is coming. I'm going home. I come tomorrow.)
Kwadjo, Kwadjo! Achina.
---
(I've tried to capture all the sound effects of the conversation, but the body language and arm waving is a pretty big part of it too.)
This was the conversation I had with Adjua. I usually have this identical conversation about 5 to 10 times a day. It most often takes place on a tro-tro packed with 15 people laughing, shaking hands, and shouting their approval at me. It might happen at the market when one of the ladies yells "Obruni!" and I call back, sending all the other market ladies into hoots and hollers and spontaneous marriage proposals. Sometimes I can sneak in with a bit of English when I don't understand a sentence, but usually I can manage a 3 minute conversation in Twi.
Adjua, my name-sake, was sitting on the corner of the street in the busiest part of the market running her business. At one point in the conversation she turned to me and asked in a serious tone if I wanted to buy anything, pointing downwards. What she was pointing to was a baking tray full of neatly stacked matchboxes. This is Adjua's business: selling matches. All day. Every day. She looked to be about 60, full of energy, and one of the most vocal ladies at the market. I wonder what someone with her charisma and energy could have achieved, aside from selling matchsticks on a street corner, given the opportunities that we all have in the West?
What I find interesting is that she didn't know a word of English, has probably not said a word to any white man before (beyond Obruni!), and yet we had a fulfilling conversation which made my day. I wonder how many opportunities I've missed out on because of the language barrier? I wonder what advice and experiences remain hidden behind Adjua's 'wisdom wrinkles'? How many secrets about development I could uncover, and how many more lie ahead?
I'm starting formal Twi lessons on Monday, and then I'll go visit Adjua again.
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Hey Bro!!
ReplyDeleteThis is an incredible opportunity! Learning Twi I think will help you enjoy your time in Ghana a lot more! It's all about shattering assumptions right? Also, that conversation reminds me of when we were in Livingston in the market, buying vegetables to make nshima, and we were chatting with the market ladies there! So funny, the look of shock on their face as we spoke the local language!
Anyways bro, I hope you're heading to the village soon! Keep me posted!
Mina
nini, i miss you so much. I finally had a chance to catch up on your whole blog. Its incredible. Hope you are still having an amazing time.
ReplyDeleteOn the matchstick lady in the market:
Maybe she wouldn't have the same energy and charisma if she was given the opportunities of the west? Maybe she can be more because she needs so much less.
Love you, and miss you always
Lauren
Mina, remember that amazing cabbage stew we made and ate on the grass at Fawlty Towers as the sun was setting and Brian was nearly throwing up everywhere? how romantic... i may postpone my village trip too. maybe too much work to do, and maybe my mental shape has brightened up slightly for now.
ReplyDeleteAnd Lauren, i miss you lots. i dont know if i agree tho about matchstick lady. i think its nice to romanticize about the simple and minimalistic yet beautiful life that people here live, but when it comes down to it i think she would have been better off with more opportunity. opportunity to earn income and to make something of yourself is what will open the door to other things such as health care, better education for yourself and your children, and an overall sense of dignity. i think if she could choose, Adjua probably wouldn't want to sit in the sun (or rain) for 14 hours a day beside a small stack of matchsticks, hoping to ear a dollar each day.
but what do YOU think? (readers? Lauren? anyone?)
love both you guys. keep it real.
I am so impressed by your effort to learn the language. I have been putting in some solid effort here, but it's hard because my family doesn't speak the local language but rather the national language, so I am stuck trying to learn both to get by. Have you been back to talk to Adjua yet? It's great that you are making some real connections, and I'm sure that the conversation you had with Adjua really had an impact on her. If only you could find some way to help her achieve the opportunity she deserves... that's what you're there for I guess, so keep us posted :)
ReplyDelete