Ghana+Missouri=Soul Sisters: A Mini, Multi Sited Ethnography on Banquet Culture

Sometimes my favorite moments in Ghana are the moments when it’s difficult to tell if I’m in Ghana or in Missouri.  Sometimes it feels like the two very distant contexts deserve recognition that can’t be captured in a signboard declaring them sisters of some international or geographical order.  Sometimes I think the two contexts are sisters of the soul. On Friday night I went to a banquet to celebrate the departure of two long term volunteers who worked with an NGO I mingle with.  For the most part, it was an evening ever reminiscent of any banquet I’ve ever been to in my hometown.  

Did country music play?

Of course it did.  Ghanaians LOVE country music. And they play the old stuff, not the new stuff. Kenny Rogers, not Kenny Chesney. I often feel like writing Kenny Rogers a letter letting him know he could make some good money (probably enough for at least one more face lift) if he’d do a tour in Ghana. We heard some Kenny, some Dolly and one of my favorites, Amanda (Waylon’s version).

Did we pray before we ate?

We did even better. We prayed before and after our meal. Having been raised a non-religious person, the pre-meal prayer at public events that was quite common in my upbringing always left me vaguely uncomfortable.  But thank goodness I was exposed to such vague discomfort early in my formative years.  It’s prepared me for pre-and post-everything prayer in Ghana.  On a recent bus ride my seat companion, in the midst of a rather interesting discussion about hydroelectricity in Ghana, grabbed my hand as the bus lurched forward to begin the journey.  “Oh right, I thought.  It’s time to pray.”

Did we eat meat and weird, fat soused salads?

Indeed! Just like at home, no banquet is complete without a meal that involves meat and salad concoctions (recipes found in any small town church cookbook) that eliminate any of the nutritive value of the vegetables by making some form of oil the prime ingredient.  In Missouri this is likely to be an oil/sugar combo (often in the form of Miracle Whip or the generic derivative).  In Ghana this is a British ingredient called Salad Cream, a product of Heinz UK that is maybe even more nutrient repelling than Miracle Whip.

Grilled guinea fowl and a cabbage and carrot salad doused in Salad Cream as well as a lettuce salad doused in Salad Cream AND Heinz baked beans. 

Did we play Bingo?

Did we ever.  We played for a table full of prizes.  I bought 5 cards, and in purchasing my 5 cards, the seller cautioned me that it might be difficult to keep track of them during the game.  I replied, with no false modesty, that I come from the land of Bingo.  Before I left for Ghana I even purchased a Bingo dauber manufactured in Cleveland (surely the Bingo mecca) at the weekly VFW sponsored Bingo evening in my hometown.  I handled my cards just fine.  My Ghanaian counterparts, new to Bingo, caught on just fine as well.  The Bingo lingo was even humorously woven into the later events of the evening.  During the money collection phase of the evening (a box was passed to collect money for scholarships for girls), the collectors reminded us that the best kind of charity begins at home.  Upon hearing this, a man from the crowd yelled out “Bingo!”  I can so totally picture that exact same thing happening in the cafeteria of my high school.  In fact, it might just have.

There were moments that were very specifically Ghanaian.  For example, never have we ever danced the Azonto at a banquet in Hermann, Missouri (though I really, really wish we would).  Never, ever do we dance at banquets in Hermann, Missouri.  In Hermann, Missouri dancing is an activity best left to young people at school sponsored dances.

Dancing Azonto.  This is an ongoing dance phenomenon originating in Ghana.  It's pretty fun.  Though I still can't proficiently dance Azonto. 

And what could I say was missing from the event?  Mostly a Jello (gelatin or pudding) inspired dessert.