Adwoa's SEPTEMBER

The month is rushing by at an incredible speed and I have blogged less than ever since blogging fever overtook me. I think for me, it is still about seasons changing and transitions. I'm looking for the ledge to the next level. My mind has never been busier, creating and networking. I perform too but that's not really part of my preoccupation now. No I'm thinking business promotion and marketing, SUSTAINABILITY. I like that word.

I like to think and I like to pray. Sometimes my prayers are just my thoughts and in all this I hope I am finding the path through the complexities of my creative and productive life. I trust I am daily approaching the light.

Eden Mills

Stephen signing books at Eden Mills

It's one week since the Eden Mills Writers Festival at the Hamlet of Eden Mills. For the first time, I saw the opening ceremony and not just a poster of it. I saw the sunshade bearers holding up their fanciful umbrellas in mustard yellow and red following the Mayor/ town crier who rang his bell every few steps or so. And of course we applauded the speeches given in the car park of the community centre.

The reason I actually saw the opening was because I was in Eden Mills early to attend church, on the invitation of Dr. Mary Rogers who subsequently hosted my books and me at the church tent, set up for the festival. It was a moist grey day and chilly. It reminded me of the UK. But I was in a great mood because Maureen had accompanied me. Where Maureen goes, adventure follows. Our day was eventful in many small ways but I must make a note of the readings we heard.

The first reading was by Stephen Henighan, writer, professor of Spanish literature and my friend. He read from "A Grave in the Sky" which will be launched in Guelph on September 25th. Last year Stephen and I listened to Sandra Sabattini and Margaret Attwood read from the same lectern at "The Common." Incidentally they all read short stories. Is that telling me to try short stories next, hmmm....

Later on I listened to Lawrence Hill read at "The Mill" from "The Book of Negroes". I had missed his reading at Waterloo earlier in the year, although I later bought the signed book from Wordsworth, the book store. I heard another reader whose famous name I can't remember, and finally I heard Edeet Ravel, my friend and writer read from one of her Pauline books at "The Mill". This year, for the first time, I missed out on the Jenny's Place readings for children. However, I stopped opposite Jenny's place to say hello, to Renna Bruce who writes the Jazlyn J series. I bought two of her books and had my caricature done by Robin Oakes, cartoonist/illustrator.

More or less that was my day at Eden Mills, except I met Chris Wilson, Janet Ragan, Jo Ellen Bogart and Eddie, singer songwriter, Bea, dancer, and Evelyn, who has a road named after her family in Eden Mills. I also met Nathan and Zadok, two dogs, and Malachi and Hannah, two cats and Elizabeth and Donna two women who shared the tent with us. I ate Rice Masala at the Bombay Cafe stand and begged Maureen for some of her butter chicken, but the coffee run out, which wasn't good on a moist chilly day. There were friends and laughter and hugs and weatherproof jackets and as usual I enjoyed my day at Eden Mills.

TRANSITIONS 3

Performance of "Rhythmic Joe" to djembe at St Marys Storytelling Festival. It's my back!

It's no wonder I haven't blogged for a while. I am in transition. Transition, reminds me of child birth, it describes a moment in labour when the cervix is very nearly effaced and all the mom's impulses are to bear down and push. Everything is ready, well almost, just a bit of cervix which is rapidly giving way....what a moment! The pain, the anticipaton, the anxiety the madness......

I have sent one manuscript to the editor, I have had two returned..."we kept it so long because we thought it was worthwhile, so it had to make the rounds for all those who read for us. We found them both worthwhile, especially one, but in the end we are a small publisher and we are not able....." end of quote, beginning of disappointment. No! Hope! It's a good ms. and now I know.

My poetry is back too with much useful critique...hmm, but there is more hope. And am waiting for news of the big manuscript. I keep so much hope and courage in my chest. Someone said if we kept bees in our chests they may turn our failures into sweet honey. Who can keep bees in their chest?

This week I have reworked Griot's Journey, performance DVD, into a manuscript and now I work in secrecy on my new idea. It's the BIG one! I work within stolen time because the season has changed already and I have began classes, and performance.

TRANSITION....tension, anxiety, madness.

Other things are changing too. I will be giving up stuff close to me to attain to new goals as I come close to certain facts. Someone said for Vision you must look out of the window, and for Mission, into a mirror. I looked into the mirror and now I must change.

TRANSITION...imminent happenings. Vision won't change but it could grow. Mission may change as we see better, and if that doesn't, strategies definitely should.

TRANSITIONS 2

recently at their prom and.....

Still on the journey of seasonal change: the kids are back in school. Last Sunday we drove five hours to leave our eldest at university. What a hodge podge of emotional soup as we found our way about and got him registered and settled in his house and then met with long time friends, who we hope will act as surrogate families for him. Not that he is wishing for that, at his age it's all about freedom from family rules but hopefully not expectations. Support is so essential, I keep telling him, particularly for my peace of mind...ha ha.

Speaking of support, we found the university welcome so assuring and supportive. Helpers everywhere, and so willing, lugging luggage cheerfully while hiphop music blares from ghetto blasters, identifying the area as youth zone! I am still in transition, folding his left behind stuff, praying twice daily for him and still connecting with the support staff, I'm building all around him. I pause and laugh, I remember when I was just beginning university in Ghana: what an absolute blast it was and I never once felt my parents' anxiety, after all I was the fifth to go. They had seen it all before!

TRANSITIONS

Holidays are nearly over, and school is here!

It's the time of year, the changes are bigger than occur on January 1st every year. We should be saying Happy New Year as the new school year begins. So many lives and activities follow the school calendar, other than kids going to the next class, which on its own is big enough. All over the world, millions of children are caught in the same activity whether they are advancing through university or walking miles barefoot to attend elementary school in remote villages. Extracurricular activities are linked to the school calendar: kids in sports, music and the arts are beginning new things or continuing with fresh impetus. People choose this period to relocate and purchase new homes so they can begin at new jobs, and new schools etc. And we are caught in the thick of things, with our kids advancing through the school systems, changing schools or changing classes. I am in transition as my mind grapples with what is passing and what is coming. I have struggled to end things well as the days sweep by in a big hurry and the future presses into the present. Am I ready for classes and recordings, performances and workshops? Is my writing done? When will I find the time to perfect draft manuscripts as the season changes. Transitions are hard and unsettling, yet they are real and necessary. In the rush it's important to find the time to rest and think as well as to pray and give thanks for what has been done, what there is to do, and what will be done. This the reason I have been silent for a week: TRANSITIONS!

PEACE MUZIKS

One week, at peace
Between the lake and the dining hall,
You cajole the sun to smile
Erasing dark lines on a sleep-starved face
Morning has broken
And among strangers
The sound of voices and violins
The clarinet, the oboe, the flute
And the jembay
In choral harmony
And for a little while
Peace fills the spaces between
Fallen leaves in summer

Back to Blogging

So we are back from an awesome week at CAMMAC camp at Lakefield where music meets nature, and for me, a curious ability to write with ease. I finished the second draft/ edit of my young adult novel: Some way to grow. I almost can't believe it! I even have a new poem for CAMMAC and photos too.

Lakefield College School reminds me somewhat of Achimota School in Ghana which I attended in my teens, except that the dorms have two or three beds and not twenty, also Achimota School didn't have its own lake but a swimming pool. This may be the reason I have such an affinity with the CAMMAC camp. We made several new friends, Toni Riccarda with whom I share a friend from my high school days, Julia who took my class last year, Fran who took my class years ago in Guelph, Maria who has invited me to stay when I'm over at Don Mills. I also met a fellow Guelph dance teacher/enthusiast, who taught me a swing step or two.

It was great to reconnect with some of the members of the faculty: Jenny Crober, Marion Roy, Joy Simmonds, Ilana Ilic, Colin Clark and to meet others anew, Barry Peters, Gabriel Spiegelschrift and the talented Kraus family. The young people at CAMMAC were such a delight to work with even more so than usual.

I'm also very pleased to be blogging again.

CAMMAC at Lakefield Peterborough

If you don't read new stuff it's because am away at CAMMAC camp!

For the love of music,
All paths lead to Lakefield, Peterborough
To play in orchestras and companies
Latin groove bands and Steel Pan too.
There'll be Djembe drumming,
dance and theatre
All things connected to music and fun
in nature's bosom,
complete with lake, trees, grass
And tennis courts too,
never mind the insects
they belong there
where CAMMAC meets
At summer time.

Living in Tents- new bonds of friendship

My friends Joyce and Sally at the Multicultural Festival in Guelph in June.

The idea comes clear out of the blue skies: leave your father and mother and the land you have known since birth to a place that I shall show you...., well that was more like Abraham's call from UR to Canaan where he settled, living in tents. How did the rest of us embark on this quest for the good life? The stories are many, and not only about refuge or adventure but almost always, it is about a perceived better life for self and family. The greatest disruptions, once one begins on the path of immigration, has to do with the fracturing of significant relationships, leading to loneliness, as one begins to explore and find themselves again, changed and yet the same. For me the greatest impact was on my career, and as that changed, I changed too as a result of the struggle, the letting go and the development or acquisition of new ideas of being.
The joy one finds through all this, is the forming of new bonds of friendship, a newer appreciation of the past that was left behind and the manipulation of the future to suit ones dreams. But there is always the grief for what was lost, nostalgia, intangible and persistent.

You will find a part of my story in the anthology, "My Wedding Dress", under the title Witness in Silk, published by Vintage Canada, Random House.

Pot of Wisdom and other works

After a a trying and emotional week, I tried to return to my writing, between workshops and performances. It's been an uphill task. I must admit a curious depression, such as people like I have, who live on the edge of our adrenal glands. So I have struggled but I have also managed to learn a bit more about RSS feeds, (Feed Burner in particular )and I have joined two aggregators: African women's blogs and Afrigator. I have also added Koranteng's Toli to my links, and Pambazuka.org to what I browse on the web. For the first time I submitted someone else's article on my blog- and I'm getting ideas.....oooh!

My writing finally began to pick up and my second draft has started on a good footing, my confidence grows. My working title is Between Sisters/ Someway to grow but I am sure it will change. I wonder if that is worth starting a blog over.

Koranteng is a very very interesting blogger and I suggest you read his blog by clicking on my link. He gives the definition of Toli and proceeds to tell you more. And he's got tons of photos on Flickr. If you're interested in what Africans are saying, got to Afrigator. Google will bring it up for you.

Why did I call this post Pot of Wisdom? Because Koranteng was looking at the book recently and mentioned it. Also Pot of Wisdom has done best so far, opening doors for me in performance storytelling, with rights sold in Ghana for a made in Ghana version and translated into Portuguese for the Brazillian market: Historias de Ananse.

Wait it's not my only book in transaltion: My Sister Julie is now Ma Soeur Julie and I will keep you posted on what is going into Kinyarwandan and French as they happen. But I move on, forward ever, waiting to hear from three different publishers, if they will publish my works. Oh how I hope; how I pray for good news and all the while I push on with Between Sisters soon to be named as her character develops. This uncertainty, the priceless life of a writer!

The New Ghana Cedi

Guelph is an artsy city with budding festivals, which has developed around its university. Artists and academics hang out together at the many eating places in the downtown core and the places where live music plays, where we dance, or nod or chat. Atsu is a dear friend from Ghana with a great intellect and the best dance moves. There's so much I learn from him. A.B.






Is the value of the new Ghana Cedi higher than the value of the US dollar?
by J. Atsu Amegashie

In July 2007, the cedi was redenominated through the introduction of a new currency, the Ghana cedi. One Ghana cedi is equivalent to 10,000 cedis. Currently, approximately 0.92 Ghana cedi = $1. Based on this, I have heard people argue that one Ghana cedi has a higher value than $1. This article is triggered by such erroneous arguments.Suppose your monthly salary is $4000 and the price of food is $100. Then you can buy a maximum of 4000/100 = 40 units of food. Suppose now that the government or your employer takes two zeros off your salary. Simultaneously, two zeros are also taken off the price of food. Then the new salary and price that you face are $40 and $1. Again, you can buy 40/1 = 40 units of food. So the quantity of food that you can buy has not changed. Economists say that your nominal (monetary) income and prices have changed but your real income, which is the quantity of good and services that you can buy, has not changed. It is still 40 units of food. Since money is not an end but a means to an end,economic performance is judged by real values not nominal values.In general, when all nominal incomes in an economy increase (decrease) by x% and all prices also increase (decrease) by x%, there will be no change in real income. The inability to understand this is referred to by economists as "money illusion". Money illusion is an example of what psychologists refer to as "framing effects".Suppose the price of kenkey is 10,000 old cedis, then one new cedi (i.e., Ghana cedi) is enough to buy a ball of kenkey because the price of kenkey in terms of the new cedi is 1 Ghana cedi. In effect, the government has taken four zeros off the old cedi but it has also taken four zeros off the price of kenkey and all other goods and services in the economy. Someone whose salary is 500,000 cedis will now receive 50 Ghana cedis. By taking four zeros off the old cedi, all incomes (in terms of the old cedi) have been multiplied by 1/10,000 to get the Ghana cedi (new cedi) equivalent. Similarly, all prices (in terms of the old cedi) have also been multiplied by 1/10,000 to get the Ghana cedi equivalent. So just like the argument above, there is no change in real income.Like any currency, the old cedi could be used to buy bread, kenkey, waakye, the US dollar, etc. The price of the US dollar in terms of the old cedi is 9200 cedis. Once we understand that the US dollar could be treated as a commodity like kenkey, the exchange rate of 0.92 Ghana cedi = $1 is simply the consequence of scaling all prices and income by a factor of 1/10,000. The exchange rate of 0.92 Ghana cedi = $1 does not mean thatthe cedi is valued higher than the dollar. This is the monetary or nominal value of the cedi. The real value of the cedi is measured by the quantity of goods and services that the cedi can buy. As argued above, this has not changed. Indeed, ask yourself this: can 1 Ghana cedi buy more in Ghana than $1 in the USA? The answer is no. This is basis of the distinction in economics between nominal exchange rates and real exchange rates.
What the government of Ghana has done can be illustrated by using Fahrenheitand Celsius scales for measuring temperature. We know that 32 degrees Fahrenheit = 0 degree Celsius. If we were to rescale or redefine this to be 50 degrees Fahrenheit = 0 degree Celsius, this will not make the USA warmer or colder than Canada and other countries that use the Celsius scale. We have only changed the nominal value for “measuring” temperature but not its real value.Recall that prior to 1983 when we had a fixed exchange rate regime (remember there were no Forex bureaux then), there were periodic devaluations of the cedi announced by the government. However, devaluation is different from redenomination. In the case of Ghana, devaluation meant a given percentage change in the nominal price of the dollar in terms of the cedi, without a corresponding percentage change in the prices of all other goods, services and incomes in the economy. Since not all incomes and prices were changed by the same percentage, this had real effects on the economy even more so because the cedi was over-valued. In contrast under redenomination, the prices of all goods, services, and incomes are changed (in the same direction) and by the same percentage.The crucial ingredients for sustained economic growth are good political leadership, accountability, and sound macro economic management. As argued above, this redenomination per se will produce no magic wand. The Bank of Ghana somewhat shares this view in its document titled “Redenomination of the Cedi”: https://webmail.uoguelph.ca/services/go.php?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.bog.gov.gh%2Fprivatecontent%2FFile%2FPublicAffairs%2FRedenomination%2520of%2520the%2520Cedi%281%29.pdf. However, the good thing is that redenomination solves the problem of carrying money around in plastic bags, at least for a significant period of time.

*The author, J. Atsu Amegashie, teaches economics at the University of Guelph, Canada.

Going Somewhere?

We bought the shoes on the same day. We bought them at different shops. We were going to the same place, The River Run Centre on May 10th, where we had both been nominated for the Women of Distinction Awards. We don't usually wear high heels, especially the pointy kind but this was a day we both thought elegance was in demand. We met and connected, two artsy women in similar shoes: Jessica and Adwoa. Jessica is a potter, who does fine art with ceramics. Her beautiful mural adorns the wall of the Guelph Youth Music Centre.

Strong Women

what a resemblance!

Quite by chance, I met Anna Aidoo at the offices of Kingdom Covenant Ministries. She was there to see the overseer, Dr. Pat Francis. I was there accompanying a friend who had business at the church. Anna's organization had just hosted the African Canadian Women's Achievement Awards in Toronto on the 28th of July, which she said was a tremendous success. Unfortunately I was unable to attend. She had a select group of women, including Dr. Pat Francis and Joy Nneji receive awards. Anna is a great encourager of women of Africa and Diaspora. She made a comment to me that she planned to go to Ghana, to see what strong women were doing there. "Yaa Asantewa cannot be the only woman of note in our entire history," she said.

I acknowledge that I am one of the many fixated on Yaa Asantewa, Queen of Edweso. My first novel, "Hidden Peace" which is yet to be published touches on the history of Ashanti and Yaa Asantewa. While I was in Ghana in April, my sisters told me of an excellent play they had seen recently,"Atuo ato Bari", translated "There's a gunshot at Bari", one of the many ways Ghana was celebrated in her 50th year of independence. Ghanaians love the entire legend of the courageous queen of Edweso who took the final stand against the English at the colonization of Ashanti, and lost.

Here's a fun photo we took with this rather short statue of Yaa Asantewa, which doesn't do justice to the descripton in the history books that she was a a tall and formidable woman. This statue stands in the sculpture park next to the National Museum in Accra. Contrary to what some people think, Asantewa did not fight as an Amazon or a Dahomeyan woman warrior in the last war, although she was the commander in chief.

A Day Like This

(for Hetty)


A day like this,
like no other recorded
A day like this
like no other created
Or composed, or ordered
or painted
but allowed to drip water colours
the tears in my eyes
glimpses of affect
which pass between
my heart and my mind
reflecting thoughts of you
in pink and purple
only you
while paths connect
in degrees related
by your being here
on a day like this

CUTIE

Especially the children enjoy the sound of the drum and the activity of drumming. "Listen to the rhythm of my soul!

UNIQUE

So what does it mean to be fourteen? Is the world your oyster? Not yet, I hope. There are dreams and hopes of eventful days, discoveries... all kinds and possibilities. July is one of those months which mean so much to me. Apart from it being the heart of summer and holidays there are dear ones to celebrate: There's Yaw, Kofi, Dorothy, Ako, Araba, Matthew and a little girl who is one today. Happy Birthday!!

Storytellers of Canada-Conteurs du Canada

Cellphone picture of the storytellers at the Niagara Doll house on the Freedom Trail. In this picture, we sing the chorus as Lorne sings and plays his banjo.

July 4-7th was the Conference of SC-CC held at MacMaster University in Hamilton. Storytellers gathered from accross Canada to support the beloved ART which has kept humanity in remembrance from the earliest days, before the advent of rock painting, literature, radio, tv or film.

We heard that the organization was the brain-child of Rosalyn Cohen of Montreal. We heard the story of the organization and met the earliest members who had carried the organization this far, and the many others who have come along to support and learn from it.

During the conference there were lovely stories shared at the evening swaps and it was my pleasure to meet Jan Andrews, author and storyteller who's current project is the Story Save, Jennifer Cayley (co-counders of MASC), Laurel Dee Gugler, the irrepressible Denise Markhame, Kevin MacKenzie and Judith and Mariella who graciously gave us rides in their cars. Celia Lotteridge is a founding member, and Mary Eileen McClear was my favorite teller at the concert. Rene Meshake presented as a Storykeeper, taking us to the roots of his inspiration. I am deeply honoured that I was invited to present a Storykeeper session. I have a sense of kin with these other lovers of story and a deep respect for the way they render story professionally. Three cheers for Carol Leigh Wehking , Glenna Janzen and Barry Rosen , gracious and tireless hosts of this great event.

Ghetto Dude

Ontario Premier Dalton McGuinty apologized Sunday to a young job applicant who received an e-mail from a cabinet staffer referring to him as a "ghetto dude."Evon Reid, who is one credit short of a political science degree fromthe University of Toronto, applied for a position as a media analyst with the Ontario government and last week e-mailed the cabinet office to follow up. Aileen Siu, an office worker, replied: "This is the ghetto dude that I spoke to before."Ms. Siu intended to forward the message to co-workers, but mistakenly sent the response to Mr. Reid, who is black.
Source: Globe and Mail


How fortuitous that the email writer hit reply instead of forward. Every now and then it is good to expose the things which reside deeply in our subconcious, behind the political correctness and the well developed outward etiquette of our business and social worlds.

The email was sent by Ms. Siu about Mr. Reid who was seeking a position as a media analyst in the Ontario government. It is interesting that a part time contract employee, (not even a full time worker) had enough confidence to attempt to forward this email with such a racist comment to coworkers with no fear of sanctioning of any sort. The question is how do the full time workers conduct themselves? Are they laughing at racist comments and jokes and encouraging themselves to out do each other in such performances?

As one who is considered a visible minority, I, like many have come into contact with the subtleties of racism. Once, after speaking with a manager for 20 minutes, she asked me while reading through my resumé, "Do you speak English?" We had been speaking then, face to face, for twenty minutes, and she had never once misunderstood me. It is interesting that I now earn most of my income speaking.... and in English.

At another time, I heard a co-worker ( a nice person) make a similar joke about another person she had interviewed, and I protested. What about the many professional level organizations who repeatedly fail immigrants as they write exams of one kind or another to qualify as specialists in medicine or nursing or veterinary medicine or engineering, or law, citing always that the immigrants are in some way inferior, when many of us have met the professionals, trained here and are often amazed at their levels of competence or incompetence ? Yet, the lie continues in spite of the promotion of multiculturalism and political correctness.

So, some people look down on sensitivity training but I think it is a good thing. It speaks to behaviour if not to motives. It gives us time until a new generation grows up on diversity and anti racism training. As cultural beings, we are often programmed to discriminate in one form or another but it is absolutely crucial that people do not use their positions to close doors in other peoples's faces. Believe what you want, as limiting as that is for you. But keep it inside your house, for out here we must not tolerate it.

The Ansahs at Niagara Falls

If only for once,

we stop

and experience a wonder of God,

the great river Niagara

which won't freeze,

tumble under the finger of God

making splashes and waves

raising mists

and fog

calling people from afar to stop and declare

this beauty inherent

in all

We were the happy hosts of the Ansah family of London, England on this brief, oh so brief turnaround to Ontario and back! Missing from the photo is the indomitable Araba who makes such things uniquely possible.

BME Church, Niagara

Ben Hockley was rescued (twenty miles off course) from the gate he was floating on, as he tried to cross the Niagara River in 1853. Josiah Henson, rolled in the dirt for joy when he crossed the Niagara River on a ferry boat. Oliver Parnall, Burr Pilandro and Dett are some of the names you hear proudly spoken of in Nathaniel Dett BME church in Niagara. And there was this photo of a man who swam across the Niagara River many years ago in pursuit of freedom. His reason, no money to take the ferry across and perhaps fear that the slave catchers were watching the ferries for runaway slaves. He had made it on the Underground Railroad as far as Buffalo, USA where he stayed for a while working for this little girl's dad. The little girl followed him everywhere and one day this old photo was taken. The girl grew up and many years later, the photo was donated to the exhibit at the BME. For me this photo stands for the courage of those who crossed the Niagara river centuries ago, in pursuit of freedom.