The Akans are the most numerically significant ethno-linguistic group in Ghana. Every Akan village has its chief. Throughout Ghana, the power of the chief is denoted by his possession of the royal stool (chair) which is typically made of wood. These chiefs are referred to as to having been enstooled when they ascend to power, and destooled should they lose that position. It is customary in Akan societies, as well as in other parts of Ghana, for visitors to a village to pay their respects to the chief, a custom that is still enforced in some of the smaller towns. We visited Odamse, a small suburb-village on the outskirts of Sunyani, and were invited to meet with the chief. This was quite an honor, as the chiefs actually still have the final say in what goes on in their community and really are more powerful than government officials.
We were escorted into a small room, the perimeter of which was lined with chairs and the ceiling had pictures of the chief meeting with all kinds of celebrities and public officials. At the front of the room was a larger chair--the "stool". The chief was very gracious and seemed genuinely pleased that the obrunis were visiting with him. He apologized that he was not in his ceremonial robe. They wear long robes, thrown over one shoulder and reaching to the ground for official appearances. We assured him that it was fine. He then showed us his stool which he was extremely proud of and told us several times that he was the all-powerful person in Odamase. It was a truly fascinating experience.
A few days ago, President Owusu told us that we were to go to a funeral with him. This is highly unusual--obrunis don't go to the funerals. In fact, we are told to stay away from large public gatherings and the funerals in Ghana are the biggest of the public gatherings. They are vibrant and colorful and huge! Unusually, Ghanaian societies tend to seperate the burial ceremony from the actual funeral--generally by at least three months, but sometimes as long as two years! They just keep the body on ice. The actual burial is generally a quiet and dignified moment, though often preceded by wailing and singing. Their caskets are amazing! Many are carved to resemble things the deceased liked and can look like birds, airplanes, boats, and almost anything. These outrageous caskets are seen along the roadside in the little carpentry shops. Along the highways, they also place billboards with the deceased picture and birth date and date of death and something like "gone but not forgotten".
The funeral itself is usually held on Saturday and the general tone is one of celebration rather than mourning, marked by exuberant drumming and dancing. We picked Owusu up on Saturday afternoon, and headed for the funeral of the brother of one of the members of Owusu's branch. He felt it would be good for us to pay our respects. Everyone attending funerals wears black or dark red gowns and robes. They are beautifully made of gorgeous fabrics. Several tents and canopies filled the entire dirt road for many blocks, and we parked down the street and walked in. We absolutely stand out like bright lights in the dark and I'm certain they had never seen a white person at a Ghanaian funeral before. It seemed there were thousands of eyes watching our every move. Thank goodness, Owusu was there and we just followed his lead.
There were lots of loud music and drumming, being amplified over several large deafening speakers. A few young men were gyrating and dancing like Michael Jackson, as we approached the tents. We stopped at the first tent and they introduced over the speakers who we were. All along the perimeters of the tents were lined three rows of chairs. The important people, all in their ceremonial garb, sat in the first row, then the less important people in the next middle row and then just guests were in the back. After we were announced, we proceeded to walk down the rows of chairs and shake hands and greet all of the important, immediate family members (who number in the hundreds). Almost all of them seemed very curious as to who we were, but they also seemed genuinely pleased that we had come to pay our respects. After greeting many, many people, we were led to a front row seat. This was very surprising! A few minutes later, the brother we had come to see, left his seat in the front row and brought a young woman over to us. We were told that we were to follow her into the courtyard, which was reserved for only immediate family.
We followed her into an adjoining building off of the street, where we were told to sit. We did so. Then they came up and offered us mineral waters and skewered chicken lizards with onions and green peppers. It would have been really rude and offensive to refuse, so we obliged. I asked Owusu if it was "fire in the mouth", which is what we call Ghanaian food as it is ALWAYS really hot and spicy. He assured me that it was not, so I very timidly bit off a piece of gizzard. MISTAKE! It was truly "fire in the mouth" and as tough as shoe leather. I managed to choke it down as Gary was chuckling under his breath. We then quietly passed our skewers to Owusu who devoured them and loved the extra treat. Owusu then told us that we were to pay money to help the family afford the whole extravaganza as there were hundreds and hundreds of people there and the gizzards alone must have numbered in the thousands. We took the money to a gentleman at the front who gave us a kind of receipt. Then that was taken to the guy with the microphone and as we left, we heard him announcing how much each person donated.
It was an amazing and unique experience! On attending this Ghanaian funeral, we couldn't help but feel a convincing belief that they truly believe in some sort of afterlife. We loved the celebration of a life rather than a tearful goodbye.
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