Gender Workshops and Religion in Kumasi

My workshop participants

I spent the past two weeks outside of Accra for work and I didn’t miss the big city one bit.  I was in Kumasi to start a project that will see one woman recruited in each of the five Ghana YMCA regions as advocates for Women and Gender issues.  Eventually, they will lay the ground work for a National Gender Committee of the Ghana YMCA.

While I was in Kumasi I led my first gender workshop, which was an incredible amount of fun, but not without stress.  The workshop was supposed to start at 10am; anticipating African time we told everyone that it started at 9am.  At 10am there was one person there.  At 10:30 there were two.  At this point, I was a little worried.  But just before 11:00 a steady stream of people trickled in and we got started.  I love working with people and this was a pleasant departure from sitting in an office all day. On top of that improving my facilitation skills was one of the goals I set for myself during my internship; and my ability to keep us on track and maintain order was definitely tested.

There was some pretty heated debate about gender (in)equality, at the height of which there was an assertion made that men and women are not meant to be equal because the bible says so.  Followed by asking me a) if I’m a Christian – because if I am, then I have to follow everything the bible says; and b) how I define sin – because if the bible says that men and women aren’t equal and we go against that, we’re sinning.

This was not my first time hearing this argument, I had a conversation with a pastor who shared the same views about the bible and gender equality:

Me: Well if Ghana as a country is trying to progress, how do you suppose it does that when half of the population isn’t seen as being equal and denied certain rights?

Him: The men will work to progress the country and the women are supposed to support the men.  You know the saying “Behind every successful man is a successful woman”.

Me: Actually, I think it’s BESIDE every successful man is a successful woman.  But if women are behind successful men then who is behind successful women?

Him: God

Me: Then why can’t God be behind the men too?

He then calls into question my faith, and I, sensing that this conversation is going nowhere fast and not wanting to get disrespectful, tell him that I hear what he is saying, but I disagree. End of conversation.

I am not usually one to shy away from a good fight debate, but as a facilitator I can’t get caught up in those things.  Instead of the back and forth I engaged in with the pastor, in my

Some of the descriptions the group came up with for men and women

session I said that we weren’t there to debate religion and needed to get back on track.  As frustrating as these experiences are, I’ve learned not to focus on the one or two people trying to dominate the conversation with their views, but rather on the majority of people who are there to listen, share and learn.  My efforts are better spent encouraging them to share their views and not indulging the attention seekers.

The workshop went very well with both men and women in the group challenging gender roles and stereotypes. I was so proud when I heard people talking about what they learned and when the men acknowledged how gender roles are harmful to everyone.  One of the participants talked about how he thinks there is something wonderful about being able to prepare a meal for your family and wished that it was acceptable for him as a man to do the cooking.

While I was in Kumasi I stayed with a host family and it was so nice to be around family, even if they weren’t my own.  It was also nice to have my male co-worker (whose family I was staying with), Iron my work clothes and bring me hot water for my morning tea every day while I was still in bed.  See, I’m making progress on this gender role stuff already!

My co-worker Gabriel and I

Kumasi Part 2: To market, to market, to buy some live chickens

Aside from the history, Kumasi is also known for the Central Market, which is supposed to be the biggest in West Africa.  The market is the exception to Kumasi’s laid back vibe.  There were so many things I wanted to take pictures of, but I was advised against having my camera out, so I will do my best to describe it.

Thousands of people and vendors make the market super hectic, and a little overwhelming

 

First of all the colours of the fruits and vegetables, and the rows upon rows of fabric and Kente cloth were amazing, if there is one aspect I’m sad that I couldn’t take pictures of, this would be it.  My sense of smell was also well engaged.  Most of it had to do with the animals. *Compassionate vegetarians and members of PETA might want to stop reading here*.  Every kind of animal you could imagine – dead and alive, whole and parts, raw and cooked; I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen anything like it – maybe because I usually avoid this part of markets.

I saw animals and parts that I couldn’t even identify. One of the things etched in my memory is of a pile of fresh insides, including what looked like a brain, just hanging out on a plate waiting to be purchased. There were snails the size of small cats – think about that for a minute, picture a kitten, now imagine a snail that big. And chickens everywhere! Chickens in cages, chickens in baskets on tops of heads, chickens tied together by rope and chickens being held by their legs.  A man tried to sell me a live chicken, I politely declined.  In case you were wondering, a live chicken here goes for between GHC10 and GHC30, depending on weight. That’s about $6-$18.

The people in the market were equally entertaining…or maybe entertained by us.  We stopped so that Julianne could buy some shea butter and noticed that the market lades were laughing.  I asked my local friend Gabriel for a translation: “The white girl is buying shea butter”.

I also had a run in with one of the market women.  I was wearing a long dress, which probably wasn’t the most practical outfit choice for traipsing through a massive market.  So as we walked through, I held it up around calf height to avoid stepping on it.  One of the women clearly took offense to the sight of my calves and proceeded to slap my hand so I dropped my dress.  I might have been offended rather than amused if it hadn’t come off more like a motherly “put down your dress young lady” type of gesture.

For everything that I saw, we barely went through a fraction of the market, but I would definitely go back.

 

Everything you see in this picture is market, I couldn't tell you how far it spans

Kumasi Part 1: My New Mission to Meet the King

Over the Easter weekend I traveled to the Asante (aka Ashanti) region of Ghana; specifically to the city of Kumasi which is the second largest in the country and the capital of the Asante region.  The plan was to check out some of the museums and learn about Asante history, but I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked the city itself.  Kumasi has all of the amenities of Accra, minus all the traffic and incessant honking by taxis; plus actual sidewalks and a more laid back vibe.

My first lesson in Asante history was in terminology: “Asante” vs “Ashanti”.  Both were written in reference to the Kingdom and people, so I asked the museum tour guide what the deal was.  His answer was that the actual name of the kingdom in Asante, but the British couldn’t pronounce it properly so they called it the closest thing they could pronounce: Ashanti.

Here are some pictures from the trip:

Some men in Ntiamafra dress, which is the name for the draping of cloth

The story of the Asante kingdom is that a golden stool descended from heaven to mark the place where the kingdom was to be established

The current king of the Asante’s, he has been reigning since 1999

Statue of the descending of the golden stool. The story is that once the stool descended from heaven, this man – responsible for conjuring it – transformed into a woman. (Or, my theory, which is that she was a woman all along, but history didn’t want to credit something so important to a woman)

This is a sword that has been lodged in the ground since 1697. It marks the place where the golden stool descended and it is believed that if it is removed, the entire kingdom will disappear. In 1967 Mohammed Ali tried and failed to remove it.

Me and a statue of the current king in his younger days

Picture taking in the museum, also known as the Manhyia Palace or the former king’s residence, is not allowed.  But for some reason the tour guide encouraged Julianne and I to run into the next room and take a picture while he distracted the rest of the group.

My favourite tidbit of information from the tour was that anyone can meet with the current king.  One way is to arrive with a gift and ask politely. Another is to be accompanied by a local who will introduce you, state where you are from, who your forefathers were and make the request on your behalf.  I have also been told that the king holds regular meetings to resolve land disputes in the region, which are open to the public.  I’m heading back to Kumasi for work in June and I am determined to meet the king. A blog post and hopefully pictures will follow!