Live from a Yam Festival
Two yam festivals in two days are too many yam festivals. On Friday, about half of our group went to one of the villages, as we occasionally do, for a light evening of merriment. We stumbled on a dance party in a house (the standard Ghanaian house being a large outdoor courtyard surrounded by isolated rooms). It was kind of like a crowded frat party, except that it was all in honor of yams.
When we came in, everyone kind of stopped to watch us and see what we would do. A few people danced with us, but then the novelty seemed to wear off for everyone but the 10 year old kids. So that left us dancing with the 10 year old kids and everyone else either watching or dancing somewhere else. Bizarre. So I left pretty quickly.
That may have been a breakaway unofficial Yam Festival party. I'm not sure. The official Yam Festival party happens at the chief's house. So I headed to another village the next afternoon to the chief's house (where a friend of mind is staying). During the day, the chief and his elders sit in the front of the courtyard, which is filled with chairs. People come in and greet the chiefs and elders and then sit down. Music playing loudly in the background, so there is not too much conversation. Rather, people sit silently waiting to be greeted by the next people to arrive, who make their way around the room greeting everyone who has similiary already greeted the chief. This continues...So I left quickly.
At night, the chief's house also turns into a big dance party with too many 10 year olds.
I don't really know anything about the history or cultural significance of the local Yam Festival, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with yams. This suspicion was basically confirmed when I saw a large pile of yams sitting in front of the chief's throne throughout the precedings.
It's also maize harvest. I don't really know about my village, but in some places this is a big deal (life or death type big deal). In my village, it means everyone is shucking and kerneling maize. A few days ago, an amount of maize that can only be measured in truckloads was dumped right outside my window. Once this maize was shucked, there was then a truckload of maize shuck an earshot away. This was great for the goats, who like playing in maize shuck, but seemed like it would be horrible for my sleep. The next morning, I woke up to the smell of burning maize shuck, which is far and away the most foul thing I have smelled in two months here.
My family only bought one large bag of maize, which they then kernel (it came pre-shucked) and then soak in water for 3 days. They bring the soaked kernels to the town grinder who makes a dough. The dough is then made into banku, which is large balls fermented corn and my least favorite Ghanaian food.
Today, about twenty of us went to a nearby monkey sanctuary. This is basically a forest next to a village where monkeys have been considered sacred and are not killed. So tourists like us come to watch monkeys in the forest and take way too many digital pictures. Supposedly the monkeys also come into the village and walk around like dogs, cats, goats and chickens do in every other Ghanaian village, but we didn't see that. Nonetheless, monkey are fun to watch...