Wonders of Wusuta

I had mentioned before that I have been quite busy and not had the time to sit and write. It takes lots of brain power reflecting and writing because for that time you are reliving and feeling emotions all over again. It is a beautiful and wonderful thing but many times we opt out of doing so because acknowledging emotions and reliving moments is very tiring. Here I am, carving out hours to sit and reflect, to feel it all again. In this upcoming year I will be working on being extremely disciplined to meditate, write and read rather than temporary entertainment that does not benefit me at all. It is frustrating that all things beneficial take minimal effort, but we would rather not put in that effort when something completely effortless like scrolling twitter exists. I digress but with that I NEED to be more disciplined and be habitual,  choosing  meaningful free time that sharpens the mind. 

Wusuta! Wow I have much to say about Wusuta, this seems like a lifetime ago, it truly is and was a tropical paradise, I didn’t think Ghana could get more plush, than I sat on the balcony and overlooked Wusuta and let me tell you, the air was the freshest I have breathed in a long time. I had been struggling with some  respiratory issues the week leading to our trip, it was a frustrating mystery but the painful and concerning troubles disappeared in Wusuta and I give credit to the fresh mountain air. The bush was thick and untouched, it seemed like chlorophyll just poured out. 

Wutusa Dzigbe is a village in the Volta region. Wusuta is the home village of my host mother Evelyn and three miles north is the home village of my host father John. This trip had been planned months before my arrival since the death celebration of Evelyn's mother fell on a weekend I would be in Ghana. Deaths are are spiritual, cultural and familial celebration in every tribe, varying by each but across the board they are celebrated for weeks long and then annually. Evelyn's mother was known to be a saint in Africa, as she had adopted over 62 children, dedicating her life to the well being  of each person that crossed her path. The travel is to only take two hours but because of the destroyed roads, it took five hours. We left at dawn to make the journey and when I woke up in the car, we were over looking valleys and a new land that seemed undiscovered. Lake Volta provides a rich ecosystem for the Volta region and the mountainous air makes the heat bearable for all. During the journey we passed through many villages, you would think that it was afternoon but it was only 7am people and were well into their day. It is interesting to describe the societal structure especially in the village, people are up at three religiously to begin cooking and sweeping, there is very hard work to be done to sustain life but with that it is a relaxed life that people enjoy each company. We arrived in Wusuta at 10 am, family had already gathered inside and out, cooking consistently until night fall. We visited the gravesite to lay a wreath and candles, though death is celebrated the upkeep of a grave is up to the family. It was sad to see the cemetery covered in so much trash and though some of the graves were only a few years old they were destroyed. After the visitation I sat outside for hours and just watched. I watched and tried my hardest to decipher conversation in Ewe. The farther you get from Accra less people speak english because there is no need. I hear Ewe at home all the time since so I am/was able to catch onto conversation, it helps that the language is vivacious and alive, I can tell with the body language and movement the topic of conversation. I sat for three hours with a woman named Anastasia, she had travelled from Nigeria with her sister for the celebration, talked about the different philosophies of tribes in Nigeria and Ghana, though Ghana and Nigeria are separated by two countries there is much competition.  You see, in the village all the cooking is done outside, it is cooler to cook outside and prepare than indoors. People came and went all day, there was no such thing as designated meal times, food was being consistently cooked and the courtyard was always filled with locals. Evelyns family prepared everything inside for the next day’s hosted celebration. There is something called “light out” it’s a very common occurrence, especially in the Greater Accra Region. Light out is when they shut down all sectors of power to homes in certain areas of Ghana to save power. It has happened very frequently but is no concern, who needs lights when the sun is out? During the entire first day in Wusuta the lights were out but you wouldn’t even know until later the night. The family home is seated beautifully on the hill overlooking the village, from each balcony you see the every movement of Wusuta and the vast mountains that surround its borders. Night fell and Kelvin, Bryan and I ventured off to see Wusuta, well it was pitch black so we couldn’t see anything. WOW. Let me tell you, as we walked through the village in you could not see anything, lights were out still but that did not stop life. People were seated beside the roads cooking, listening to the satellite radio, or playing. The stars were incredible, the air was clear and the stars seemed to try and shine the smallest light on the village. I thought to be invisible as we walked down through listening to the voices, Wusuta knew there was an “oburoni” but in Ewe they discussed the “Yevu”, though I could not understand the exact conversation I knew it was about me. Kelvin and I laughed at the kids running after us or pointing from the streets, even in light out my presence was obvious. I want you to know something there is a lingering and solemn staring contest as the eyes of strangers meet, when this happens you might not want to make the first move to greet because it is easier to be invisible DO IT. Wave and break the ice because as soon as the first person greets the wall CRASHES, smiles flash across both parties and there is communication in each persons language. It took time for me to be confident in such a small act because I did not want to feel an imposter but as the exchanges began it was beyond worth it whether I was to make the first move or not. 

The next day we attended church dedicated to Evelyns mother, after the village gathered for hours of music, food and celebration.Every part of Ghana is a whole new world, you think that it can’t get more tropical and plush compared to the greater Accra region but then you venture onto the dusty and destroyed roads to another place and a new door is opened. When you enter that door it is everything you didn’t think you needed. My time in Wusuta was just another reminder that Ghanians, welcome and love you not matter what. It was a reminder that I could share moments with family and be part  of  life way outside the Greater Accra Region once again. It will be hard to picture the scenes I write about and my words don’t do it justice but try painting these two images in your head;

A courtyard at the back of the Salmon colored Wusuta family home, the women are up religiously before the sun to sweep outdoors,  I hear it from the open window in the upstairs bedroom. From that moment on, under the shade of the mango tree people gather on chairs or on the nearest stoop. There is constant banter, a lingering scent of bush meat and pounded Kasava. The elders are seated along the wall watching over the generations taking part in life that has been passed down. Wusuta men come and provide the more bush meat and a homemade rum to that will knock you off your feet. I sit and I watch, I am so content. I couldn’t care less of the sweat beading on my skin or my feet covered in ants because in Wusuta I am content just being. A long stretch of road, shops on each side, family homes nestled behind them. There is no curb to sit on but despite the black out, Wusuta gathers on the street to share moments in the dark because light doesn’t matter.The days start early and end late, sleep isn’t necessary. As we walk down the main stretch, it’s as if our lungs are cleared of the Accra dust and our minds are tired but alive.  Think of the fresh air in Wusuta and the palm wine pouring from the trees and maybe for a minute it will make winter a little more bearable.  Good morning from Ghana. xoxo  Corrinne Ruth