On Language

Language in this part of the world is fascinating, and I can say that without reserve.

 

The English language came to stay so many decades ago, but didn't develop in parallel with the colonizing country even though they stayed in charge.

 

You'll still find fragments of antique English in use today; people "alight" from taxis (and don't understand when you ask to "get off" or "get out").  Formal letters continue to "hereby" declare, submit, and request.  My "good office" is "implored" to "do the needful."  People ask, "Will you keep long?" when they want to know if you'll be quick doing an errand.  And as for conditional sentences, more than once I've been asked, "If you were to be" a so-and-so, "supposing you did" something, and all sorts of constructions much more complexicated than the American "if" that passes in every situation nowadays.

 

Just a quick post to let you know I'm still going.  More is happening in my cooking blog.... by which I mean, I post there at least every two or three weeks...

as long as you're still walking...

Yesterday Jens got hit - in the arm - by the side mirror of a van.  Don't worry - he is absolutely fine - there is no bruise at all.  But it would have been nice for the driver who grazed him to have stopped to check.  Instead we had to chase him down.

We were walking down the street when a white van came speeding by.  I heard a soft thump and saw Jens stop short.  The van went a few feet further, paused for a few seconds, and started again on its way.  We yelled and waved, it stopped again, paused to decide, then sped down the road.  We both took off after it, yelling and screaming "STOP!"  Some interested passersby asked what was going on and I told them eagerly before running off again.

In Accra there's a strong notion of "street justice."  A few months ago we heard about a case on the UG campus where a woman accused of stealing was caught and abused by a gang of male students, and recorded on phone video cameras (reported here and blogged about here, for a start).  If two cars bump each other on the road, a screaming match is just around the corner.  So it's no surprise that the driver who hit Jens took off.

What did surprise me is that the onlookers didn't do anything about it.

I was hoping I'd get some kind of crowd following the van or that the word would spread down the street faster than the car.  Instead they just listened to my story and urged me to run.

Turns out the van was headed to a hotel two blocks away.  Jens caught up with it as it screeched into the gated courtyard.

The driver's explanation for his hit-and-run?

• I was in a big hurry to get here.
• You were walking in the middle of the road.
• People get hit with side mirrors all the time.

And the kicker, folks:

• I saw you could still walk, so I knew you were okay.

Anyway, the driver continued, I said I was sorry.  What more can I do?

It's true.  There's not much in the way of auto insurance here.  The police, we are strongly sure, would not have done anything.  Jens's arm was feeling okay right afterwards.  (Today it doesn't even hurt, let alone have a bruise - lucky he didn't get hit any worse.)  It was incredibly frustrating, though.  Had Jens been truly injured, would the driver honestly have thought more seriously about stopping - or been faster to run away?  Is an apology after you try to flee the scene really enough?

I went to the doctor today with a coworker (this relates, I promise) - she has tonsillitis, I have an ear infection, and now we both have antibiotics - and she was saying that doctors here don't listen as much when white people complain.  They think we exaggerate every pain we have.  So when she told the nurses the blood pressure cuff was squeezing her arm too tightly, they told her it only hurt because she was speaking while it was measuring.  Though she had started to speak only after it started hurting.  There wasn't any acknowledgement of her pain, or that something might truly be wrong.  There was only the need for blame to fall elsewhere.  And if she was still able to talk, presumably, they thought she was okay.

There's no question that obronis in Accra often have more wealth, possessions, and opportunities than a vast majority of the people they interact with every day.  That doesn't mean, though, that each of our experiences is less worthy - or that our words should have any less impact.  Being able to afford an extra cedi or two for each taxi ride doesn't mean I should be required to pay it.  

I heard of a friend who was overcharged 10 pesewas (cedi-cents) on some fruit she bought, and when she brought it up the vendor looked at her earnestly and said, "I need it more than you."  Does that give the fruit vendor the right to take more money from one person than from another?

A culture clash, indeed.

Ghanaian Names

Naming conventions in Ghana never cease to make me grin.  Apart from the run of names you hear around most of the English-speaking world, there are three ways this can go, as I've seen it in Accra so far:


1. Names ranging from the old-fashioned to the biblical.  Dorcas, Mabel, Enoch, and a dozen Emmanuels to every one of everybody else.


2. Out-there names describing personality characteristics, or hopes.  Allswell, God's Willing, Wonder, and the slightly more everyday Patience, Constance, Mercy, Charity, or Wisdom.  


3. Traditional naming.  Every day of the week has one or two assigned names for each gender.  Because I was born on a Tuesday, my Ghanaian name is Abena (OBB-nah or, as the caretaker of our building often says it, Abrah).  People on the street who want to address you but don't know your name, if they choose not to yell out "Obroni!", will take a one-in-seven chance and call out one day name or other.  Most commonly I think I've heard Akosua and Adjoa.  If I'm in a mood to respond, I'll say hello and tell them to call me by the right name!


There's a Facebook application that figures out this process for you, or if you'd rather not link it to your profile, just find your day of birth (here's one such site) and match it to your name!  Taken from another blog, I present you with names and characteristics of each day.  I just discovered that both kids in my family were born on Tuesday, but I don't know exactly how well these qualities describe me or Z.  Jens is Kojo, meanwhile.  Our guards often use these names as they roll off the Ghanaian tongue - much easier than the neighbor girls' pronunciation of my name: "Hello Frantchka!"

Males
Monday: Kojo, Kwadwo, Jojo, Cudjoe
Tuesday: Kwabena, Ebo, Kobena, Kobina, Kobby
Wednesday: Kwaku, Kweku
Thursday: Yaw, Ekow, Yao, Yokow
Friday: Kofi, Fiifi, Yoofi
Saturday: Kwame, Ato, Atoapem, Kwamena, Kwami
Sunday: Kwasi, Akwasi, Kwesi

Females
Monday: Adwoa, Adzo, Ajoba, Ejo, Adjoa
Tuesday: Abena, Abla, Araba, Abina
Wednesday: Akua, Akuba
Thursday: Yaa, Aba, Yaaba, Yaayaa
Friday: Afua, Afi, Afia, Efie, Efua
Saturday: Ama, Amma, Awo
Sunday: Akosua, Esi, Kisi

Characteristics of Each Day

Monday’s child is the father or mother in the family; nurturing in nature, dependable and organized, and protective of his/her family.

Tuesday’s child is the problem solver and planner of the family. They are structured in nature, neutral in all matters and never takes sides.

Wednesday’s child is fully in control of every situation, does not want to be told what to do, knows it all, is spontaneous, vibrant and cordial. Be sure not to cross his or her path though…

Thursday’s child is quiet in nature and incredibly observant. They are generally listeners, not talkers, and analyzes situations very well.

Friday’s child is a leader, not a follower. He/she is very temperamental but has a big heart. Generally the instigator of everything.

Saturday’s child likes to take control of family situations. He/she runs the show and make the rules, but will go out of his/her way for others anytime.

Sunday’s child is the passive, sensitive and warm member of the family. He/she tends to be shy and likes to keep to his/her self, but is very aware of his/her surroundings and usually is the secret keeper of the family.

Otherwise, I'm coming down with my first West African cold, starting up with a four-day sore throat.  Taking it easy today in hopes that it fades pretty quickly.  Something has been going around for the past couple of weeks, though.  I'm planning for my parents' visit at the beginning of August, and getting ready for yet another exam at the Goethe Institut signifying that I've finished level B1 and ready to become an upper-intermediate.  That concept is very hard to believe; loads of my upper-intermediate students in Dublin were leagues ahead of where I see myself!