My aunt Patti, with whom I was close, passed away the first day I was in Ghana. I had almost canceled my trip because we all knew she wasn’t doing well, and I couldn’t imagine not being at her funeral to support my family. My family insisted that she would have wanted me to continue with my plan to travel, and I do think they were right. I did get a chance to say goodbye to her on the phone the day I left for Ghana, but the experience has left me raw and a bit scattered emotionally and mentally. I am so grateful now that I went forward with the trip. It has been a refuge for me, and an extremely positive experience to be here in this particular place with these incredible people. I’ve tried to stay present and mindful, but there is a lot to speak about.
As I am writing this entry, I am overwhelmed with thoughts about our travels, our experiences, and the people we’ve met. I think about the reflective discussions we have had as a group and the warm, thoughtful responses shared by all. I think about how remarkable it is that I didn’t even know this group two weeks ago, and now, we’ve shared one of the most meaningful experiences of my life. I think of the scholars and artists who have shared their precious time with us. I think about how fantastic every single day here has been.
I have so many thoughts and ideas associated with being here that I really was in a quandary about choosing one specific subject. Do I write about the striking billboards adorning the streets, complete with large portraits and funeral information for a deceased loved one? These are public and unapologetic tributes reminding me how important family connections are among Ghanaians. Do I write about the kindness, generosity, warmth, and humor of the many Ghanaians we have met? Do I write about the laughter and good-natured teasing among the group while we all tried (my attempt being sadly pitiful) to learn Ghanaian dances and songs? Should I attempt to do justice to our stay at Hans Cottage Botel where we actually tried to coax crocodiles out of the water to pet them? Do I write about the three fantastic nights during which our group ate delicious foods, danced, sang, and laughed while looking out over the ocean at Aunty Mercy’s Shebeen? I loved our time at Aunty’s!
I must mention the sacred ceremony at the Assin Manso Ancestral Slave River Park (which we should be calling Assin Manso Ancestral Donkor Nsuo River Park). This is a place where people walked bare-foot, bound in chains, sometimes hundreds of miles, to be bathed and shaved with broken glass in preparation for the auction block. Many also died there after being forced to make such a cruel and agonizing journey. Now, this is a place where ancestors of the people who were enslaved can come and pay respect and connect with the past. This is a ceremony that my intuition or some other energy made clear to me that I should not be participating. I should only be a witness to this rite for the others. As a European American, I knew this ceremony was not for me, and I wanted to respect the ritual and its intentions. Watching from atop the hill was a beautiful and affirming experience, and I will always remember it.
I definitely need to speak about the experience that most greatly affected me, which is our visit to the European castles on the coast where most of the enslaved persons in Africa were kept until they were taken away from the continent. In preparing for my trip to Ghana, I had bought a play to read. In “The Dilemma of a Ghost” by the Ghanaian playwright and novelist Ama Ata Aidoo, the protagonist, Ato, has a dream about a young boy and girl who are singing a song about a ghost and its dilemma. The ghost asks,
Shall I go
To Cape Coast
Or to Elmina
I don’t know,
I can’t tell.
This ghost’s dilemma is metaphorical in the play, but the two choices are both abysmal. Both Elmina and Cape Coast castles have unfathomably brutal histories where millions of African people who were captured or sold into slavery waited (and often died) under hellish conditions to be transferred to ships that would take them away from their homeland. Both are places where African people were tortured and dehumanized. In both of these places, ghosts of the past reside. A holy man sitting vigil at the Cape Coast Castle told our group that he sometimes sees ghosts crying. With the level of brutality committed there and the intense misery experienced there, it must be a very haunted place. I know that it is definitely a haunting place.
At one of our workshops, we were told that the Ghanaians have a dance where they lean to the right (listening to that person) and then lean to the left (listening to that person) and then go forward (looking to the future). Ghana seems to have embraced that concept in combatting the effects of a very difficult past. In counteracting, to whatever degree possible, the horrors experienced by its people, Ghana has taken many steps to welcome back the African diaspora in an effort for unity. The ceremony at the Assin Manso Ancestral Donkor Nsuo River Park reflects this, as does the “DOOR OF RETURN” sign exhibited now on the other side of the original “DOOR OF NO RETURN” at the Cape Coast Castle. This sign is a tangible symbol of reclamation by the people, creating the literal place for “the return.” Another healing event in Ghana is the PANAFEST festival, started in the 1980s to celebrate the resiliency and strength of African people. This is an international, arts event designed to directly confront the effects of slavery and that may have been stifled or suppressed. These are just a few of Ghana’s efforts to create unity. Ghana’s efforts at creating vehicles of healing and cohesion among its people and the diaspora clearly show that it is looking to the past, looking to the present and then dancing forward, looking to the future.
I hope to return many times to this beautiful country in the future, and I am eternally grateful for this opportunity with The Witness Tree Institute.
Diana Degnan-LaFon
English Teacher at Notre Dame Preparatory School
Towson, Maryland