Drum Party

At the drum making centre of Accra, the drum makers got together to play for me. A competition started between Burkinabes and the Ghanaians. Here are the Burkinabes driving it up.

All that Rhythm

West African drumming is polyrhythmic which means several different rhythm patterns playing together to make up a drum song. The rhythms interlock, connecting each to a central rhythm theme usually played on a bell. African bells come in various shapes and sizes and are variously named according to the people-groups or tribes. There is the gangokui, of closest relation to the cow bell: there is the single bell and the mother-and-child bell where the child is shorter and lies on the belly of the mother. There are the twin bells of equal size connected by the holding stem.. There are also the boat shaped Asante firikyiwa bells and the thumb bells and many more, I haven't yet seen. Apart from these there are also the higher pitched shakers and rattles of all kinds made from combinations of gourds, seeds and baskets which may be used to anchor the rhythm. My favorite is the shekere or axatse- gourd and seed shaker. There are often a masterful complement of drums of various sizes, shapes and skins which may be played by hand, stick or hand stick combinations. These provide the different tones which make up the drum languauges. Every peoples have found the tones which speak their particular language and compel them to sing and dance the spirit of the people alive. The Malinkes prefer the djembes and the dun-duns, the Wolof prefer the sabars which come by various names. The talking drums: dono, tama are more universal although they speak by vaious tongues. There are the slit drums, bata drums, fontonfrom drums, and the water drum made out of an inverted gourd over water, as well as the calabash drum played with the heel of fists. Other popular instruments provide the melody:the kalimba or mbira, the balafon or marimba, the kora, ngoni, the seprewa and the one stringed gourd guitar, the various bamboo flutes and also very importantly the voice of the singer carrying over top of everything else.

Uhuru-Freedom

photo credit: Randy Sutherland
On Saturday Afroculture performed UHURU for family and friends of the students of the Afroculture drum and and dance program. The performance was staged at the GYMC Recital hall. The evening unfolded with a dress up and rehearsal and our show began at 7pm prompt. I began the show with congratulations to students and a poem I had written that morning. The evening flowed effortlessly as if we were extremely well rehearsed. The dances were not flawless but filled to the brim with good energy, sweat, excitement and pleasure. The drumming vibrated in every cell of every body, waking up the dying. Yes, waking up the dying.

Uhuru- Freedom

freedom runs over

because it cannot be contained

inside a mere cup

of tin, porcelain, ceramic or gold

not even in one composed of flesh

with a lid made to fit

freedom is charged with too much pressure

within one complex compound

of life, laughter, hope and dreams

freedom bubbles over and spills

whoever it touches will be changed.

Adwoa Badoe

Latitudes Festival 2007

The 2007 Latitudes Festival was held at the Victoria Park, in Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario. They were hosted by the K-W Multicultural festival, a very busy event with thousands of people passing through. We got there tewnty minutes to 6pm and I began my storytelling ten minutes early, filling the gap left by the last storyteller who may also have started early. The tent filled rapidly to Fule's drumming and my audience was enthusiastic as I told one story and then another, interspersing the folktales with songs and chants and the irresistible drum undergirding our voices. What a delightful day, filled with the colours of the whole wide world, the sun warm and yet not punishing and people walking about at ease, linking arms, hugging and greeting one another. There were lay photographers strolling about, watching out for the perfect picture to capture, of lovers staring at the dark green lake, children running around underfoot and babies squealing in their strollers, munching apples right down to the core. Among all these music filtered and swirled as though through a sieve of human bodies and intentions. We walked along without a care. If only summer would last forever....

Sister Vision Press

What do you do when your book vanishes from sight, the publishers disappear and your work of love and creativity simply disappears? Crabs for Dinner was my first published book and I have a place of honour for it in my heart. The story is amusing, fun, interesting and thoughtful for young minds and I absolutely love reading it. The trouble is not that it made me very little money (which is not strange for a first book) but then the publishing company disappeared from sight and although the company was literally a two person operating unit, I have sought them in vain. And all I want is information. This book was culled for Super Senses, an Ontario resource for schools and also written in braille. These things I found out quite by accident.

Crabs for Dinner was reviewed positively in the Globe and Mail. It was great for young minds, very useful for the children to understand and embrace the differences in cultures found in Canada, and it was very humourous with an endearing nameless character. It was edited by a dear friend and great children's author Robert Munsch. It was this book which brought us in contact with each other.

What does one do when someone disappears with another's work silently into the vague metropolis? It's almost as if my book was only a dream. A company with a slightly different name Sister Vision Educational Press has a phone number and address but nobody returns the calls. Even if there is a bankruptcy should we not at least be told what happens to our work? Can I buy it back? Can I publish it again with some other press? These two women were doing a good job for us creative women of colour. We considered them to be women of vision and leadership. Here's my advice: Bankruptcy is a tragedy I would wish on nobody but please do not let it cost you, (as women in leadership, your integrity, leadership and rsponsibility. For me, this is the real tragedy.

Dobet Gnahore

picture credit brucemoore.com

She is the next thing after Angelique Kidjo and I watched her open air performance in Ghana , April 2007 at the Alliance Francaise where she wowed the crowd with original music sang in at least four different West African languages. This woman is electric! Sparks fly everywhere as she performs. Her presence is arresting as she switches from a decorative percussive pot to the mbira and other strange instruments which seem to complement her own unique self. Her musicians are highly skilled singers, guitarists and a drummer who seems able to play the kit drum right alongside hand drums effortlessly. We could only gape at her as she sang and changed from one instrument to another and when she got up to dance...oh my, what a dancer: sensual, expressive, amazing, awesome...mama Africa in the prime of life.

She's coming, she's stirring things with the energy of Angelique and a whole new level of magnetism.

Go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZzIObJOJgo

for a piece of Dobet.

Jiwani- gye w'ani

photo credit: Randy Sutherland

Our group Jiwani has been performing since 2003 when I named it for our presentation at the Ojo Ayo festival. This group was the natural progression of my dance classes taught in Guelph since 1999...?... once my class was able to keep students enrolling year after year. We have since performed at many venues in Ontario and performed two major shows: the River Bride and The Griot's Journey, available on DVD. The life blood of the group is the dedication of its dancers and drummers, as the group requires that its performers be enrolled in on going classes to learn new material. The group also welcomes new talent identified through the Afroculture dance and drum classes. This approach means that performers are consistently learning new material and then practising in special Jiwani practice sessions toward performances.

Multicultural Festival 2.

The festival was a good place to meet friends and make new acquaintances. Children I had taught years ago had grown much bigger, babies who used to ride about in strollers were running about on strong sturdy legs. Teenagers I had last seen in grade twelve were done university and working. Time has moved along in Guelph. Our booth was a fun place all festival. We made friends with our vendor neighbours Elizabeth and Marlene who were selling specialty items from Thailand. We also made friends with Khadi whose wares hailed from Senegal. I have great memories of Dakar Senegal, the country of tall dark graceful beauties who sashay along, never ever in a hurry, with their eyes highlighted in kohl, and light billowy gowns blowing gently about them. So many people stopped by to discover rhythm in our booth or to play delightful foot tapping rhythms from Asia or Africa. We jammed with one and then another and we sold drums. Laughter spilled everywhere between queries: How much is this and then the other? What is this and then the other? We were there as much for exhibition as for sales. Everyone was welcome to touch, to feel, to play to experience. This time I wasn't able to dance to the Mariachi band as I was working. But I remembered Luis and Laura. Once upon a time we had all eaten together with Maria, Martha and Daniel at the food tent and danced to Latino music beneath the big tent. Our workshops were well attended. In Guelph people like a chance to participate in something different. Then we performed two dances at the band shell. It was such a pleasure to see Beata after so many years and her daughter who had been born after we had last met. Then she had two children and now she has four. Wow! In Guelph the place to reconnect is at the multicultural festival.

The Guelph Multicultural Festival

The Multicultural festival is about eleven years old. I have been attending for many of those years, sending my chilldren on the rides and bouncy castles when they were little. Now they come sometimes and only to hang out with friends. For the very first time we have an Afroculture booth along with many other entrepreneurs at the Guelph Multicultural Festival. The festival has grown larger. It is still situated at the beautiful Riverside park. We will be performing on Sunday to fill a gap in the International Language Program's line up for centre stage . We will also be teaching workshops on Saturday and Sunday.

Today was set up time, and testing the scene and ourselves in our new role as merchandisers. We met others we know well in the business, and although for this weekend we are competitors we are also among friends and do indeed wish them well after wishing ourselves well first. Saikou from Toronto has set up a great display. Primordial Drums is directly opposite him. There's a Senegalese lady I met last year at the Afri festival of Waterloo. There are many firsts for us, erecting our booth and securing it at the end of the day. We trust it is secure! So many trips back and forth for this and that all because we're new at this. Wynne spent the entire afternoon there, until he was sick of it. I used up his Friday until very late so I rented him a movie for his entertainment.

I hope tomorrw goes well and we make lots of sales. I expect lots of traffic at our booth and excellent sales. Guelph is where we learn new things.

Chinua Achebe-2007 Man Booker Prize winner

As children growing up on colonial fare, we were fed everything British. British was best and so I read Enid Blyton's mass media books from Amelia Jane to Brer Rabbit and all her mysteries and adventures, everything -almost. Then we discovered America's Nancy Drew at the Osu Children's library. As soon as we were old enough, we read Mills and Boon and Harlequin, hidden between text books during geography class. The boys discovered Nick Carter, the character, (I'm not sure who wrote those books)and together we discovered the block-buster books of Harold Robbins, Sidney Sheldon and Alex Haley. When we thought of literature and fiction these were what we thought of, not the books our schools forced on us, The Day of the Triffids, Invisible Man, My family and Other Animals or Shakespeare's Macbeth or Julius Caesar.

All of a sudden from the middle of this sea of literary whiteness, we discovered that Africans actually wrote books, fiction which explored our lives, our cultures, pre colonial life and history. We were excited to taste the flavour of our vernaculars cleverly translated into the English language and yet retaining the taste of salt, pepper ginger and onions. Instantly we felt at home, as if we had read these all our lives. Our eyes opened, we could see into the life of Okwonkwo and by extrapolation the lives of our great grandfathers, when they had marked the land and cut down the forest to create homes and villages and towns. We began to understand what their hopes had been and why the whiteman had so awed them. We began to visualize the stresses of colonialism, the forced inferiority and the reasons why we were who we are. And not because we had read the clinical facts of history from which all black thought had been excluded. When we read of the Abolition, we never heard of Quobna Ottobah Cugoano nor of Olaudah Equiano. We never learned of William Still or Harriet Tubman or Toussaint d'Ouverture of Haiti. Abolition was Granville Sharp, William Wilberforce and Thomas Clarkson, all heroes of England expressing the goodness of white. Thank God times are changing or we may never have heard of Nelson Mandela, only of the honourable F.W. de Klerk.

Where else could we discover the beauty of blackness if all we knew of ourselves was that we had performed human sacrifices, sold our brothers into slavery and been conquered, indentured, colonized, or if you like plundered against our will. As if these roles were singularly ours to enact on the theatre stage of our world. And even today when our stories are told, our voices, our art, our take on literature is often rejected by the big-boy publishers so that our stories gush out of western mouths, open wide to taste the bottom of grandmother's pepper-soup. Another Picasso waiting to be born. But every now and then, someone makes it to the top in spite of the odds. Someone wins a coveted prize. So we celebrate the elder novelist Chinua Achebe of Nigeria, (I say of Africa) and the open path he cut through the bush for many others to follow, like Ben Okri and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and those of us who are finding the path. It is Chinua Achebe who explains as none other, the real role of the storyteller of our times. He enacts it fully for all to see. While madness drives a man into the bush, the storyteller is coralled to the compound to serve it well. So we serve; so we serve.

“Agwu picks his disciple, rings his eye with white chalk and dips his tongue, willing or not, into the brew of prophecy; and right away the man will speak and put head and tail back to the severed trunk of our tale. " Anthills of the Savannah

When we were young and discovered Heinneman's African Writers Series, we strung titles together and learned this chant: Because of Burning Grass and The Narrow Path, the People of the City are No longer at Ease, so Weep not Child, when Things Fall Apart. So fully did we own African writing, the titles were like music to our ears. It is true what Chinua Achebe says: "It is the story that makes us different from the animals." Anthills of the Savannah

Mamady Keita

Fule and Mamady

Last Saturday, Fulé and Andrew took Mamady's workshop for the very first time in Toronto. Mamady did not know it but Fulé as a djembe drummer and director of Jiwani has learned almost everything he knows from Mamady Keita. Mamady Keita is the superstar of Malinke Djembe drumming! Yes, I know of several other names of equally skilled drummers such as Famoudou Konate, and we have enjoyed the drumming of Adama Drame on CD, and taken Mbemba Bangoura's workshop in drumming and dance. But none has done as much for Djembe drumming, or even hand drumming as Mamady with his skill, his vision, his deligence and his business sense. Mamady Keita is much bigger than his frame, having reached more people through his teaching CDs, his book, A life for the Djembe, which he co-authored and the dramatic documentary film of his life and his djembe, Djembefola. This man is a class act and Fulé and I periodically enjoy his performance DVD with his amazing group, Sewa Kan.

It isn't as though there are no master drummers in Ghana or other African countries. The Ghanaian drum scene has its own particular flavours and complexity of rhythm, from the Northern drum ensemble, favouring the dono and the brekete types, the Akan ensemble, the Ga ensemble and the Ewe ensemble with their myriad types of drums. Infact the depth of tone of these other kinds of drumming cultures and the fact that the lead drum is usually the bass drum, gives Ghanaian drumming a compelling awe and power unlike other drum cultures. Within the Malinke drum culture, solos are created with a tightly tuned lead djembe which delivers its high pitched soliloquys over top of rhythm-djembes and the bass complement of djun-djuns.

Whether one prefers one culture of drumming to another is entirely a matter of preference and culture. But it is undeniable that Mamady and those like him have taken the djembe culture to another level of prominence. While they have preserved the folkloric, they have gone far to improve showmanship and to create other drum songs, and new solos for older rhythms. While this prominence may be given to the versatility and portability of the djembe itself as an instrument and particularly as a solo drum instrument, we cannot deny the national vision that supported the Ballets Guineen and Ballets Djoliba and which projected them to international prominence with superior techniques of performance drumming and choreographic excellence. Today, because of Mamady Keita, all the world has heard of the Djembefola and even as far as Indonesia they make tone challenged djembes out of mango wood.

PARTY PRAISE!

I wonder if any other cultures make dance music with religious themes of worship, thanksgiving and praise to God. Ghanaians make the most upbeat songs of praise in contemporary highlife and hiplife styles which lend themselves to dances at parties , gatherings, festivals and all kinds of get-togethers. We unabashedly join our voices to the compelling refrain of soulful voices extolling the virtues of God alongside the guitars, saxophones and high strung synthesizers while the drums pound a beat irresistible to dancing feet. We dance, we we stomp, we twist and turn merging our joy of community and worship into one, with laughter spilling unreservedly from mouth to ear, filling the spaces between conversations with ease, sweeping us all into healthy release. We look into each others eyes as we speak, shake hands with firmness and hug with warmth, seeking the exchange of good will.

All this at Joel's first birthday party, where the sauces and stews of the women's cooking fill us with desire for pepper and ginger and onions and salt, and the fermented corn rich dumplings of West Africa. The back door is open and the children careen in and out, playing hide and seek or catch. Sometimes they pause to breakdance to the admiration of uncles and aunties, clapping their hands and shouting: Go, go, go, Joshua! Our laughter mingles. We are one with the music, the praise, the joy, the food and with one another!

Shout out to Joel, Janet, Eddie, Joshua, Araba and Buadi!

RUNNING AND READING-Kidsfest

NUMBER 271 crosses the finsh line, HURRAY!

I am awakened with sleep hunger at 8 o'clock. I am still paralysed by some delayed action of sleep when I plead with Fule to call me from his cell in ten minutes, to make sure that I actually get out of bed. Faithfully, he calls. Maureen picks me up at 8:32. Actually we leave at about 8:45pm to York University in Toronto- east. There kids from at least 8 schools and several districts in Toronto are competing with themselves and against each other to finish a 5 kilometre race. This is a race they have been training for the whole school year in their Reading and Running Clubs, birthed by Canadian marathon star Silvia Ruegger and offered through Kids Fest Canada. This unique program is Silvia's response to the needs of inner city children in the elementary grades and supports them as an after hours school program, with goals which include success at reading, goal setting, team building, mentoring and fitness. Of course they are also watching out for the kids who show real promise at running to support them in the development of their talents.


I first met Silvia at Mosaic, a Christian prayer ministry run by ex-CFL star Brian Warren who is a pastor and the founder of KidsFest Canada. Then I heard Silvia at the Eden Mills Community Centre where she spoke about her Reading and Running School Clubs for boys and girls in a dynamic and insightful presentation, which included her own path as a marathon runner and a video clip showing her amazing eighth place finish in the very first women's Olympic marathon ever. Silvia is intense, passionate, a pace setter with a heart for the children. Her goal, to keep hope and possibilty alive in the eyes of the children. Her Canadian record, set at the Ottawa Marathon in 1984 at 2:30:37 is still unbroken, more than 20 years after. It was the very first marathon she run in competition.

This Saturday, the very air was static with excitement and anticipation. One could almost see sparks of electricity here and there as the kids were urged on to finish the race, with Brian's voice booming over the loud speakers while dozens of volunteers run here and there fixing everything up. There were loads of trophies, photo ops., freezies, bouncy castle-kind structures and a large white reading tent. In the tent I told West African stories to the kids, (this is the Afroculture connection) working hard to hold their attention against the smell of barbecued hamburgers, the anticipation of the mighty bounce in three or four castles set up not too far away, and a delightful tee-shirt decorating activity. The individual winners went home with great gifts, the Sony thing called Wii and several boom boxes. The event was supported by City of Toronto, Scholastic, Running Free Sport and Brooks among several others. Willow P.S. of Guelph won the team first place. Go Willow, Go Guelph. (I couldn't resist that.)

What a success!

Corporate Afroculture Workshop: Wellington County Child Care Services

Yesterday Wellington County Child Care Services celebrated the contributions of child home care service providers in the county to a sit down dinner in the beautiful banquet hall of the Italian Canadian Club of Guelph, 135 Ferguson Street.

AFROCULTURE arrived at 7:00pm to set up forty-five small djembes. We also dressed up the organizers, six of them including Laurie and Stacey in colorful African wax print and cowrie bead accessories. Then the fun began with Fule's trademark beginner workshop loaded with jokes and wise cracks to relax the participants and to aid them in their quest for rhythm. Kathleen ably supplied both the anchoring beat, the mother rhythm and the deep end of the rhythm on the djuns. The ladies had a blast and held their rhythm together amidst much laughter. I travelled the room on my backside, taking photos of the women playing drums, focussing, laughing. I told two African stories in appreciation of good service to the community, to the theme: one heart. Then I introduced the dance. We had them all sweating and thirsting and moving and at the end, by their own comments, they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The dance drew ready laughter and broke barriers between the people. They loved the rhythm, the dance and the fact that they were involved and not just watching. I met my neighbour, Jennifer and Sally's friend Barbara. It's always nice to reconnect with people one knows. So if you're having a corporate event, try us at www.afroculture.com.

Adwoa

Four Seasons

In my part of Africa, we only have two seasons, wet and dry. Our average temperature is 28 degrees, this is a conservative estimate! Inspite of this, I am thinking of calling the Afroculture recital Four Seasons, after all here in Canada we enjoy the changing of the seasons, even if winter is much too long.

I'm not sure if this theme will survive the week. If it does, I'll need four ideas to work through our show which will be performed by the children, teens and adults we teach in our dance and drumming classes. Our singing is tentative and I wish there was more I could do about that. It is probably an overstatement to say that we are overwhelmed by compliments for Spirit Alive. It is nice when one's work touches hearts. We continue to nurse our toes and dance. Come dance with us. Come to our Recital on June 23rd.

African Performance Arts for youth

Today Stephanie, Marissa and Kadi performed at the GCDF Youth moves. All three are steady dancers: Stephanie pays attention to the execution of the choreography and is responsible for the others in this regard. Marissa is very natural as a dancer and full of improvisations and Kadi is more introspective and more subtle as a dancer. In their diverse ways they give a lot to each other in performance. After our second performance today, it was Kadi the more reluctant dancer who had an idea for the next choreography. She surprised me in this regard as sometimes I have wondered whether she likes the stage.

I really think that people of African descent have a penchant for the performing arts. Now I know that's a generalization but it is a good one and if more people are discovering that this is not so, it must be the westernization and urbanization which is overunning our world. This is not all bad because the western block-buster approach to everything: big stages, big films, celeb bands and superstars have woken up the world to know that it is possible even if hard to make a great living out of the arts. How important for those who are born with this gift of healing and community, or healing for the community. How great for the community.

As a child I began to learn the traditional dances of Africa at age eleven. I had ofcourse watched, heard and observed all this from early childhood but I must confess that my first memories of dance, were doing the twist to "My boy lolipop," when I imitated my older siblings. Then I remember trying the 'bugaloo' and the 'pop corn' all of which I learned from teen aged older siblings. By the time I was twelve my sister and I were winning dance competitions held at birthday parties because we had older siblings to learn all the cool moves from. Then at the end of elementary school my school introduced my graduating class to African dance. I fell at once and completely in love with it.

If one learned to dance then one wanted to be watched. One courted the eyes of the audience. This ofcourse gave birth to that love for performance, acknowledgement and praise. No wonder in the courts of the traditional rulers and at all community functions, people from very young to very old want to strut their stuff to the praise of the community. In West Africa, performance results in much applause and the spraying of money: coins and notes placed on the forehead of the dancer, drummer, poet or singer. In my parents day, English colonial mentality prohibited all the school goers who were pursuing education from joining in the community arts of dance, song, and drumming. They missed out on their rich cultural heritage. Until today my Mom envies those who can articulate the graceul dance of the Akans, (the adowa) at funerals and festivals. She can only pretend to dance it.

In Africa the arts are functional: binding , motivating and healing to the community. The arts are also participatory with a place for everyone. Voice, expression as well as release is available to everyone in very accessible spaces.
My argument: Why not use the traditonal arts and its more contemporary and emerging forms to engage youth, to give voice, expression, healing and belonging to a whole new generation.

Dedicated to Africa

photo by Randy Sutherland
Our second time at GCDF, but this time I have little to say as I didn't get to watch the other acts at either the Site Specific series of the Youth Moves. So I rushed around all morning between venues for tech rehearsals and the show, as both Jiwani and my kiddie trio: Steph, Kadi and Marissa were performing.

I was pleased with Spirit Alive and I have plans to make it even more dynamic. Kwame Badoe's music was emotive, passionate and stirring. I was glad for the opportunity to criss cross media, beginning with prerecorded voice (poetry) over instrumental music, rooted in recorded djembe and djun sound then layering over top with live djembe ensemble and the "rechauffer" with robust live drumming. It made for a dynamic soundscape, an interesting development of the concept of the lone prayer rising up and being buffered and supported until the the Spirit is reborn and sustained by the entire community.

Spirit Alive was born as an idea in my mind and as my co-artists lent their support to it, the music was composed and the dance developed in the womb of my regular dance class and then alllowed to grow in the dance-drum troupe Jiwani wherein it was choreographed , practised and critiqued. Spirit Alive is dedicated to Africa.

The Artist Entrepreneur

photo by Mike Chaves

To my mind to succeed as an artist, one must also be an entrepreneur. It's miserable if one ends up poor and unwell with the talent that Van Gogh possessed. That makes for good tragedy post-humously but not a happy life. Yet, it seems to me as though the dominant patterns in the brain which serves one out into society as an artist, inhibits the calculating business/sales/ administartive/ auditing mind that one needs to be successful. Therefore artists wait to be discovered and managed, which is very good when that happens and one finds really good managers, agents, etc. But many artists have enough skill and talent to be successful not necessarily to become celebrities but to make as good a living as any other profession. In a place like Canada it's great that there are grants and available in the absence of royal patronage. It would be nice to have patronage too:) Here's what I'm thinking: Many artists have figured things out in their community. They may know how to produce themselves and put on a show from concept to advertising and marketing. But they can only do this in their own neck of the woods where they have had to find the entrepreunerial edge. They may have an extensive list of people who have watched them grow who may come to see their work. Why don't such artists who may be wearing down their own audience with this overexposed act (within their own community), connect with others from different parts of the province and host, produce and market them in their home community in exchange for similar favours from the visiting artist. In essence an intercity network of co artists. Recently I watched the East York Choir in performance and they were wonderful in their communtiy. But after all this practice they perform once and that's it unless someone could host them elsewhere and run the business of it where they cannot. In lieu of agents and managers, how could this happen? In Africa we say "hand come, hand go". In Canada we say: "you scratch my back and I scratch yours". Imagine that there were associations formed in this manner, the mid level artist could potentially get really busy and the emerging artsist would know the value of working to establish themselves within their own community. Artist Entrepreneurs need to think this way to connect to a bigger world. We know that in our day Van Gogh would have fared better, wouldn't he?

On this note I hereby create my intercity network of Artist Entrepreneurs. You may register with me so long as you are a performing artist, don't live in Guelph and have succesfully put on shows seating at least 250 people :)

They put the SOUL in Spring

Hurray for Jenny Crober and the East York Choir for a powerful and soul stirring afternoon of song. Choral music is a force of nature, I find, and we were treated to Canadian composers, Tchaikovsky and a Bulgarian folk song. My personal favorites were Wood River, The Scout and Polegnala e Todora. The switch to Spirituals was powerful with "Ain't got time to die and De blin' man stood on de road and cried.
At the intermission I bid for perennials to plant in my upstart garden and then I kept my fingers crossed. Matlakala/Emily was an up beat joyous song to begin the African section. Indeed I loved all the songs but since I'm choosing favorites, I must say I love the rythm and tempo of Si njay njay njay, I love the gentleness and calm of Hamba Lulu. Vamudara makes me want to dance the "adowa" and O Sifuni Mungu and Siyahamba must be everybody's favorite. Ah, I might as well add on Hombe for its vocal complexity and Thula baba which i first heard in the show Umoja. There I loved them all.

"Onipa da wo ho so," written by my godfather, Dr. Ephraim Amu never ceases to call out my goosebumps one by one. He would have been so proud and so would my Dad who visited Canada only once in his lifetime. The little percussion section grew larger at Larry Graves suggestion. Suddenly not only did he want to drum but he wanted to sing, and involve the audience in the signature double clap of Kpanlogo. He even got me to dance the kpanlogo. How could I refuse? He and Fule had a blast, Larry on the kpanlogo and Fule on the djembe. My story The Magic Tree of the Sahel was well received and the afternoon came to an end.

The choir and Jenny received a standing ovation which I consider well deserved. At the end, we met so many people and received an abundance of compliments. I remember particularly, Brainerd Blyden-Taylor who directs the great Nathaniel Dett Chorale , Constantin and Mima who hail from Bulgaria. Mima is a member of the Trio Orpheus and Mariatou comes from Sierra Leone. I thought it would be a wonderful event and so it was. The Nathaniel Dett Chorale will be singing in Guelph in the fall. I wonder: what about the East York Choir? Maybe Guelph should have a taste of them too.

Spring Soul- Toronto, Eastminster United Church

Tonight we practised with the East York Choir which will present Spring Soul tomorrow , Sunday May 27th at 3pm. They sound heavenly and when the bass and tenors sing Dr. Amu's Onipa, I get goosebumps all over me. I'll tell you about my favorite songs tomorrow when I have the program before me and can spell everything just right. Fule and Larry are playing percussion, mainly the Djembe and Kpanlogo drums, and the rhythms rock with the wonderful tunes and the amazing harmonies of the East York Choir. Jenny Crober directs them in a spirited manner and over the last few weeks of rehearsal we have seen them stretch and reach for perfection. Tomorrow I will perform a solo dance and a story at the concert. Toronto is waking up to Africa!

Guelph Contemporary Dance Festival

Jiwani is preparing for the GCDF Site Specific Series. To be honest that particular series is the best dance event of the entire festival because it takes place in the picturesque Exhibition park under a blue sky, with the tall trees and green grass as as our back drop and the audience as part of our act. This year four dances will be performed at different sections of the park and hopefully the sun will prevail.

We will be premiering a dance, Spirit Alive choreographed for the event and performed to original recorded music by Kwame Badoe and the live drumming of the Jiwani drummers. Spirit Alive is a prayer which symbolizes and celebrates robust life for Africa after the current tragedy of the HIV epidemic which seems to speak death and decimation for the continent of Africa. Yet we shall live, and robustly so! I have fashioned the dance after the Lamban dance of Guinea, the dance of the griots. Something about the jeliw speaks directley to me because deep down I resonate to the call of the griots . I am called to tell the stories of Africa.

On June 2nd and 3rd, watch out for Jiwani on the green grass of Exhibition park.

Women of Distinction 2007

On May 10th I dressed in red and joined the other 2007 Women of Distinction nominees at the River Run Centre. The air was filled with expectation, excitement and some nervous tension as the gems of Guelph community arrived and settled in at the Co-operators Hall. We greeted each other, complimented each other and did a mini tour of the stage and back stage, committing to memory the order of the events as they were expected to unfold. Then Bob Housser took the group photos, hundreds of them, making jokes while we blinked and blinked, our smiles pressed firmly on our faces.

Afterward we had dinner, exquisite offerings of vegetables in upended forks, growing in trays of grass. There was mango chutney, (correct me if I don't know what I'm talking about) sweet peppers, cauliflower and diverse vegetable dipping sauces. I sat with Elizabeth Cunningham, the very gracious Kathleen Schmalz and Judith Rosenberg. I sipped on sparkling Sprite, too excited to think of drinking wine.

At last we were called up to the parade of nominees. My category was first and my name by virtue of supreme alphabetical order, first. I heard my name, loud and strong and the next thing I knew I was stepping (gracefully, I hope) on my new pointy high heeled shoes - and I never wear thin stiletto heels. I made it and stood smiling at the darkened auditorium after I had coillected my nominee's plaque. This event is more gracious than the Oscars in this regard. Then when we had all gathered to thunderous applause we walked off stage and found our seats.

Then our category was announced and video clips of our interviews screened for all to see. Magic 106.1 and CJOY 1460 were the sponsors of the category Arts and Culture...."and the recipient is.... Adwoa Badoe!" I was delighted, thankful and in full respect of my fellow nominees. I shook their hands, hugged those close to me and went up to collect my award. Two minutes later I had given thanks to all of Guelph, the YWCA, my supporters, friends, family and God, the giver of talent and favour. Then I had photograph taken with my sponsor. Back in the auditorium, my excitement brimming over, I found myself sitting next to my friend Michelle Mohr. YES! It felt nice to win. The rest of the ceremony passed as the recipients were named for each category. Afterwards over dessert and coffee, I celebrated with good friends. Fule was there with my kids Wynne, Matthew and Stephanie. Anne Dance came with Binty and Kadi. Dorothy Odartey Wellington was there with Stephen Hennighan, Stephanie Nutting, Atsu Amegashie and Lucy Mutharia. Somehow I missed seeing Lila Engberg. The other women in my category were definitely most deserving and very gracious. I applaud, Catrina von Radecki, Janet Johnson, Kathleen Schmalz, Jessica Steinhauser and Patricia Patrick who won a lifetime achievement award. Jessica and I were wearing similar shoes. I'm yet to send her a photograph of our feet!

Since May 10th I have received flowers from well wishers and as a post script, Liz Sandals, MPP has sent a certificate of congratulations! I just received the statements my nominators and supporters wrote on my behalf and I am blown away.

Still blown away,
Adwoa

To Ghana and Back

Since my last blog, I have been to GHANA where my daughter and I spent a wonderful two weeks meeting family and seeing the sights in Accra and Cape Coast. My best times were meeting my old school mates from SMS, UST and finding them all well and doing awesomely. Notably I enjoyed the company of Slim, Alex, Ray, Charles, Josie and Davina and then there was my ex-room mate Darius. I saw the next thing at Alliance Francaise with Pete. Her name is Dobet Gnahore and she moves like a cat. She is a singer-songwriter, multi instrumentalist and dancer with a mean band and a meaner show. Her CD is Na Afriki and I own one. Move over Angelique!

Ghana at 50, there wasn't much left over to see, but Panyin outdoored her baby and on AL's behalf Snof claimed God-mother status for us all. It was so good to see the AL group, Akos and Tibs, Zid and Arnold, Zipporah, Elliot and Naana; Tawiah, Kosei, Naa Abena and the old girls of Wey Gey Hey. There was Kate and Bea and Rosemond whom I hadn't seen for all of twenty years! And then there was Robert! Wow! In two weeks I had seen all these and others including old Achimotans and Aliki.

At La Palm the kids swam while Ako and I sat under an umbrella which did nothing to curb the heat of the sun. Pete came and then Miki and Tawiah and their kids. We ate Banku and Tilapia, plantains and jolof. The malt was not cool enough but it was good to sit and relax.


Bojo beach was a new place to me and the sand was white and clean. The waves washed against our feet, singing praises to the sky. The sky was so wide, so vast, so full of freedom and I sang hymns and waded as far as my knees. I soaked my capris as far as my thighs. We played old school rhythm and rhyme hand-games while Stephanie and Essie pretended to swim. K. quarrelled with London boy and my nephew, Papa Fule brought his girlf friend to say hi. All too soon the afternoon was over with frantic calls from home, warning us of a tropical storm. We rode the canoe back to the main land and kesewa and I went adventuring at Kokrobite. We didn't find Nii Tettey Tetteh's Kusun, but we found the compound of Nii Tettey Addy. We didn't meet the great drummer though. Lost opportunity!

Cape Coast was quite the trip and I learned many life lessons in a day. We did the Cape Coast Castle tour and saw the museum exhibits. Then at Hans Botel we ate, while crocodiles swam lazily by and lizards skittered on concrete floors. I saw a hornbill, in bright primary plumage and songbirds flitting from tree to tree.

Ghana was the same and Ghana had changed. The Akosombo dam has declined in might and load shedding means hydro power outages on a regulated schedule. Everyone speaks of the declining rains but hardly anyone remembers that nearer the source of the Volta River, the Burkinabes have dammed the same river leaving only a trickle arriving in Ghana. Inspite of this inconvenience, life continues and people live as fully as they can. Generators come alive when the hydro-power goes off, giving expensive and enivironmentally unsavoury power to those who can afford it. All others contend with early nights in hot steamy Accra, pulsing with the hopes of millions of people in three piece designer suits and ties, riding four by fours or wearing second-hand oburoni w'awu tee shirts, with faded letters telling of another world- Molson Canadian... what animal is that?

Celebration!

Tonight my Afroculture dance classes will celebrate the end of the winter session and the beginning of spring. What a lovely day at 18 degrees. Off with the coats, bring on the big smiles, robust laughter and the sound of cheerful greetings along the corridors and stair well of the GYMC. Two classes will meet to celebrate rhythm, body and movement while the awesome drummers of Jiwani sweat and play. I wish you were coming. Since you're not, I will tell you all about it after tonight.

Adwoa

Seeds in the Ground

A full day of workshops at June Avenue P.S yesterday was very satisfactory. Fule and Kathleen made up the rest of the team. It took a bit of planning between the principal, Maureen and I but it was well delivered and I do believe the students were inspired to a new love of storytelling which should also impact their creative writing. There was dance and hand-drumming too and a spirit of celebration to welcome the Spring. Spring is here at last. I particularly enjoyed the teachers' workshop and felt the strength of community so tangibly. I think I should offer more workshops to teachers as a group. Perhaps I should follow up on how the teachers use storytelling in the classroom after this workshop.

Today, I went out without a leather jacket and tonight will only drop as low as 1 degree. Yippee!Jiwani practiced our two dances for the United for Africa show on March 29th. Jiwani is looking sizzling hot and I couldn't be more pleased. We'll pick up stronger on the singing in April. The season has changed and if you haven't got seeds in the ground, then hurry up! Those who have ears, let them hear!

Dreams and Manuscripts

Yes, I've been working on two manuscripts. They are not your usual manuscripts, these I think I may self-publish. I have this desire for a small publishing outfit and then I think....too much to do in too little time. What shall I do?
I've been writing on my favorite themes of storytelling and African History, looking to develop material to support my presentations. The year is moving on swiftly and there is much to do.
My mind wanders, yet I return to my writing and little by little the job gets done. Today I received an email to join in a community conversation on the theme Greater Guelph. What do you know? I was already thinking of something to engage Guelph, something as fascinating as The Guelph Festival of African Arts. I was thinking of this as we travelled between Guelph and places beyond Stratford and Clinton, Ontario. Fule was driving and we were listening to Habib Koite's soothing kora music undergirded subtly by a bass guitar rhythm. I dreamed.
I am still working on two manuscripts, waiting to hear about three other manuscripts out there with publishers. I am working on a proposal and planning performances and a trip to Ghana. I am avoiding my email because my mind has turned introspective. It was a good day. Much was done in dreams wherein I visualized great endings in technicolour.

Like Chocolate

How do we relate to media? How do I relate to media? In September 2006, the beautiful collection of photographs and ruminations of writers, "Reading Writers Reading", by Danielle Scahub brought my likeness to print. Then "My Wedding Dress," edited by Susan Whelehan and Anne Carter brought my memoir and likeness once more on to the printed page. Then there I was for brief seconds on CP24, at the launch of "My Wedding Dress , in resplendent bubu, perhaps something I would have dressed in if I was now going to be married. Then I had this invitation to be interviewed by Shelagh Rogers on CBC, 'Sounds Like Canada', a request which failed twice due to traffic, weather and travel. Recently I was once again in the Guelph Mercury, this time on the front page at the revealing of the nominations for the Woman of Distinction Award YMCA/YWCA Guelph. My thought is: Occassional press is to be enjoyed like chocolate. So I have enjoyed it and say thanks to God for uplifting my work in the public view.

Spirit Alive

Today I began to choreograph Spirit Alive for the Guelph Contemporary Dance Festival working with a Lamban theme and other influences. Kwame and I have already had one meeting on the original music he is writing for me and I composed some chants as well today. I worked with Mary who dances with Jiwani. It' s great to work with Mary.
Jenny Crober and her family dropped in from Elora and I worked with her on Dr. E. Amu's composition of 1928, "Onipa da wo ho so," literally "Man rest on your self", translated "Man discipline yourself" or perhaps, "Be still". I helped her with translation and pronunciation. Twi which the Akans speak is a tonal language.
Dr Ephraim Amu was my godfather and a unique man if there ever was one. He was a man of simplicity and yet not simple; a man of humility, discipline and strength of character and altogether purposeful, who lived his life with utter conviction. His music continues to inspire Ghanaians to higher living. Today brought back memories of his voice, his conversations and his uprightness. I remembered how much he loved fried yam and pepper dip. I also remembered his unofficial national anthem, "Yen ara Asase ni," played at the close of TV broadcasting each day in Ghana!

Finding a New Direction

I am looking for a new direction for my blog, hoping I will find something which will keep me motivated to write and you waiting to read what I have to offer next. This week has been exciting. Tuesday 6th March was the 50th anniversary of Ghana's Independence. All eyes on Ghana ,with reporters from old colonial master-country, writing about the excitement and exuberance of Ghanaians while citizens continue to drink dirty water. As if we were not exploited and underdeveloped when we were colonoized for 50 years plus. Yes, we know our problems but there is a day to celebrate and hope!
Thursday was the International Day for Women and in Guelph the YWCA hosted its luncheon to announce nominees for the Woman of Distinction Awards in Guelph. What an afternoon of women,(in black mainly), speeches, photographers, good food and optimism. I am nominated for the category arts and culture alongside dance artists Janet Johnson and Catrina von Radecki and other accomplished women. Well wishes to women in general and congratulations to all the Women of Distinction. The week was busy with workshops and performances and now I look forward to resting.

The Royal on Gordon

After church we rushed to The Royal on Gordon, a plush retirement home on Gordon Street south of Guelph. We spent the afternoon recreating African storytelling, with the seniors who live there. It was a fun afternoon with engaging seniors who sang story chants with me as I told about Ananse the spider, Ijapa the tortoise and the amazing Talking Tree of the Sahel. One gentleman was born in Angola and later spent years in Kano Nigeria. One lady greeted me in Hausa which she learned in Jos. Never underestimate people, so many are so well travelled and knowledgeable. Black History month is straddling March which is a good thing because we wish for more sunshine to hurry the spring in.

End of Black History Month

February ends today but Black History and culture continues through the months if we take time to celebrate. This month we have given presentations, performances and workshops at many schools and continue to receive invitations. We were very happy to be a part of Oakville's celebration of Black history and also happy to contribute to the Waterloo celebration where my girls performed. In Guelph, a Museum exhibit of Black History with emphasis on inventors will be showcased at the university on March the 29th. Also this month Wordsworth Books of Waterloo hosted Larry Hill and Afua Cooper, an event I missed because I was giving presentations elsewhere. I have since bought a signed copy of Lawrence Hill's book, "The Book of Negroes which I hope to review later. March 6th is the 50th 'Golden' Anniversary of Ghana's Independence and all roads lead to Ghana!
Happy continuation of black history...bring in the sunshine!

Adwoa Badoe

Oakville Children's Choir

I'm back after months of absence. February is Black History Month and everything is happening at the same time. Yesterday, Fule and I were featured special guests of the Oakville Children's Choir at a choral celebration: "Great Day!" The children from Cherub choir through Intermediate, Senior and Chamber choirs amazed us with a selection of spirituals, traditonal African songs, and jazzy North American Black music. It was a treat worthy to return me to blogging and a great way to celebrate Black History Month. The Caribbean Association of Oakville mounted a great dispaly of events and personalities of history. Fulé supported the singing with drumming and I told stories: Ananse and the Pot of Wisdom and Ndiyindoda, a tribute to Mandela. Glenda Crawford is the dynamic founder and music director of the choir.

EXTREME STORYTELLING

Last Sunday, Dan Yashinsky and I told stories at our event at the GYMC and Bamidele gave us Yoruba traditional songs to the talking drum and some hi-life too.Actually the whole weekend was extreme.

On Friday evening, 24th November, we were at the Guelph Contemporary Dance Festival Extravaganza and silent auction. It was a very pleasant evening where Guelph's artsy dance crowd gathered for a sneak peek of the 2007 festival artists and to dance salsa to Mambo Nation's latin groove. Afroculture donated a baby djembe, the Griot's Journey DVD and the children's book 'My African Dance Class' to the GCDF for auctioning. The music was good and the dancing fun. I met Jay Shute, percussionist on my way out but it was Judi who convinced me to come back again after running my last errand of the night. I was glad I did.

Saturday afternoon, 25th November we were signing books at the Bookshelf for Children's Book Week: Jean Little, Jo Ellen Bogart, Kathy Stinson, Renna Bruce and I, sitting side by side, eating nuts, chatting and signing. Then at 5 o'clock Fule and I supported Bamidele's Artists for Development fundraiser.

The next day was D-day which I had been planning for about a month: Extreme Storytelling! Was it going to be possible to get Guelphites out on a Sunday night for adult storytelling? The prize was Dan Yashinsky: master storyteller, founder of the Toronto festival of storytelling, co-founder of the Toronto School of Storytellers, and the 1001 nights of storytelling. Dan is a great guy, he tells fabulous stories and is able to take his listeners into the magic web he weaves by his telling. He is also a good teacher and very generous to fellow storytellers, giving great advice and opportunities to help develop the craft. I think everyone should hear him in Canada. It was an honour to bring him over.

The night went well. Although we did not fill the hall it was a tidy audience of supportive listeners. There were a few storytellers there, Ann Estill and Brad Woods to name two of them. There were also a few kids who interacted very well and often supplied answers to Dan's dilemmas and riddles. Then ofcourse there was Prince Bamidele Bajowa with his talking drums and mini bata ensemble. The night passed well with stories of extreme risk and risky undertakings. You should have heard the stories. I told my stories from the Soninke people of West Africa, Angola and Ghana. Dan told a Jewish tale, a Russian story and a true story told him by a bus driver in the States. This is the story of my extreme weekend!

One minute poetry and six word story

Here is some word fun which we shared at my birthday party. ENJOY!!

POETRY in a minute,
ready, set, go
time's up, pens down
here is what you wrote... at Adwoa's birthday party!



We laughed
We were merry
It rained, it snowed
We still laughed
We stayed merry

The night was dark
The stars did not come out
We still laughed, we were merry

God's people
laughter in our hearts
Merriment in our souls
We laughed, we stayed merry

Sally


Words
words on a page, meanings beyond time,
words on a page, metaphors, nouns, verbs
words that fill my heart and yours
words that I give to you

Efua


My Mom pulled out a stick
Her hands moved very quick
My bum soon was sore
This seemed against every law

Asua


He came around at midnight
Stamping, kicking and yelling
Oh what noise that stops kites
Flying at heights compelling

Yvonne


Brewhaha
Cheechili bum bum
I went to town
lookin' for fun fun fun

Mary


Poetry Smoetry
Haiku Faiku
Rhyme Time
Done
Greg


Fire will burn you
No I will burn fire
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Ashes to Hope
Hope to Faith
Faith to Faith

Fule


Ratio,
Stars,
Number
Sausage
A childs dictation list?
Is it?
Or is it the mumbo jumbo
Of my psychosis

Dorothy


I wish I was still still
As I was at conception
At my beginning
Unfettered, free

Kwame


Joy is
friends gathered
around a birthday cake
candles smoking....

Adwoa


STORIES in six words or less.....

Atsu: What a great evening! Thanks Adwoa.

Fule: Why me?

Greg: This tattoo has a long story!

Greg: Roots, branches, capillaries....

Mary: Gridlock, exhaustion, door, lightswitch, SURPRISE PARTY

Kwame: Yesterday I asked Dorothy to dance.

Kwame: If only you believe in me.

Kwame: You always interrupt whenever I.....

Dorothy: She danced and danced, dropped dead...

Dorothy: She opened it and said wow.

Sally: Adwoa's jollof rice disappeared in minutes.

Sally: The dance steps told who dunnit.

Dorothy: Footsteps, gun shot, aaaaah!!!!!

Adwoa:"Move over". She falls. He walks.

Adwoa: I drum, Fule dances, they freak.

Violence against Women and Inequality of the Sexes

UN figures show that in the world, 1 in 3 women are brutalized or forced to have sexual relations. In the developed world, violence against women presents usually as domemstic abuse but in parts of the world where wars are raging, and in the aftermath of such civil unrest, there is often widespread abuse and raping of women at large. This is the situation in Congo as was shown on a TV documentary recently, where in the villages women endure recurring gang rape by out-of-control soldiers and rebels, with no protection or recourse from their governments.

In many places in Africa we have a lot to do to curb violence against women, and to legally and socially grant women equal standing and respect in society. Traditionally, such rights have not usually been accorded women. Neither have these same rights been given women anywhere in the world without a fight. If it is a fair statement to say that African men usually adore their mothers, then it is fair to say that they are as an overgeneralization somewhat unable to extend that same respect toward their wives. This basic discrepancy between sexes must be addressed from a legal, social, religious and spiritual point of view. This basic human right must be taught in schools. Women should not be considered fortunate when they find succesful and equal relationships, this is the way it must be.

Whatever religion one practices, God did not create inferiority in one sex versus the other, only different strengths. We cannot reiterate this often enough, if we are to possess a better world. Civil rights belong to all. Here's another of my poems on the topic.


Recovery

Should the showers fall tonight
We will lie out in the rain
Let lightning tear up the middle skies
Into shards and shreds of dignity and hope
Like the bloodied flesh in which we lie
Tainted by the sons we bore
May thunder echo against valley walls
Summon the panic that beat in our chests,
And mothers hear what the sons have done
By the stories we tell under the light of the moon
The other night not too long ago
When womb was slain by tens and billions
The rebel army retreated at dawn
At the blast of a whistle
To hide vampire teeth from the light of day
At dusk be not deceived!


Should the showers fall tonight
May they wash away our yesterdays
And sweep them with the current,
Out of sight, out of mind
To join the waterways of the deep
And mingle with the salt of the sea
Where we stand knee deep in turmoil
With the ocean all around
May healing return to us again
With the surge and sway of synchronized waves
Sent by the wind from the far side of the shore
Mix in powders of bark and herbs
And the roots of drifting green seaweed
Add to this the healer’s words
The songs of the mighty archangels

Should the showers fall tonight
We must hear the refrain of earthly choirs
Sister to sister, sing my song
Stand with us by the unbroken wall
I let drop my tears in a river of hope
reaching out to your store of strength

Queen Nanny on Young Street

I could have sworn that I met the unyielding spirit of Queen Nanny just yesterday. I was telling stories to seniors in Toronto, working them up to have a good time singing with me while I told them trickster stories. And I was succeeding until I asked this lady if she might tell me her name to use in my song. So far I 'd had 100 percent success until I stopped in front of this lady and politely said, "Ma'am would you tell me your name please?" "You wouldn't be able to say it." she replied. "OK," I said moving on.

The other ladies on her table said her name aloud. Since I was able to pronounce it, I used it anyway. She did not protest. That was good, I thought. Things went well for the hour. Only a few had dozed off and most of my audience seemed truly entertained. Some of them came up to say thanks as I packed my stuff to leave. Then Queen Nanny came up. She who had studiously refrained from looking directly at me throughout the performance( she had been knitting) , now came toward me. I didn't hear what she said because her voice was small and she had a peculiar Caribbean accent that I wasn't used to. She looked at me with a marked frown and severe lips so I knew she wasn't saying, "great show!"

Usually people from the islands love to hear trickster stories, particularly Anansi stories.
"Pardon me," I said.
"You didn't shake your hips like you were supposed to. I know those things!" She declared with bold accusing eyes.
"Oh, I thought I was telling stories," I said.
But she had turned her walker the other way and was already walking off.

Right then I thought of Queen Nanny, the heroic queen-mother of Jamaican maroons, captured and enslaved off the west coast of Africa with her brothers, (most likely Akans, and perhaps Ashanti) who led her people courageously in their struggle for freedom and independence on a strange land. How had she done it? She must have been a very compelling and charismatic person, forthright and perhaps intimidating such as this woman who had not smiled throughout my presentation but had none-the-less sat through it all.

Did my Africanness - my accent, clothing, stories and songs irritate Queen Nanny, who had been betrayed by other Africans so many years ago? Who is to know? I am a writer and a storyteller; I imagine , I speculate, I make connections, I weave plots.
Is it irritating for people of Caribbean descent when they are mistakened for Africans and vice-versa? Is it irritating for African Americans and African Canadians when they are mistakened for Africans or Caribbean people. Is there some kind of attitude; racism or some kind of 'ism' between different black groups in diaspora? Certainly in Africa there is still much tribalism among closely associated groups and such feelings are often encouraged and manipulated by a few who stand to gain political power.

Here's a poem by Adwoa Badoe: The Ships

It is this interruption which by itself
Has brought us sorrow upon sorrow…
We had wanted our seers to describe the heavens to us
Dresssed up in geometric metaphors, red, white and gold
Constructed in riddles, pictionary,
In-scratched on the rock faces of Gambaga scarp
We pleaded with our prophets to foretell our future lives
Staring in the furnaces of soothsaying blacksmiths
Reading the scattering of fine grey ash
When the smoke was spent and the fire long dead
We yearned for our artists to paint us black
Asymmetrically posed against the myriad forms of nature
Giving sight and color to the wind and the rain
And the cloying smells pervading the unknowable forest
Our desire was for our griots to mold our legends and heroes
From the distant fragmented past to a future among the stars
But this was not to be
Once the ships sailed in to shore

Like a chasm in our souls is the sea which entered life
The emptiness we must embrace if at all we would proceed....
(One foot after another
Chained to these memories
Dangling from iron hooks in the sky)....
To heal the keloid scars of otherness
Which having torn blood asunder
Continues still to direct dissensions
Which long ago robbed Wagadugu
Of her brilliance among the planets!
All this came to be when the ships sailed in to shore
Then they sailed away
Taking you awayfrom us
Leaving us in-te-rrup-ted for five hundred years,
till...“hello there, have we met?
I ‘m sure I know your face from a memorable place”

African Dance is Alive and Well in Guelph

What do teenage girls, young adult and adult women have in common at the Guelph Youth Music Centre? They are all doing African dance. My classes are full of strong exuberant females who are just happy to be moving to the rhythm of live drums, trying out fun, exotic and yet natural movement which the body was designed for. They are dancing with ease and liberty; exercising, shaking off the stresses of work, school and home and forgetting their responsibilities as they focus on the lesson. They realign body, soul and mind through the complex polyrhythms which vibrate through their bodies from the drums. It is heady business, euphoric and exhilarating, ending in sweat and release. In my classes are three mother and daughter students and a fourth mother daughter duo of which mom is a drummer. Something about the community of dance and the circle of women. To my mind it is most important for women to play and dance and flaunt themselves for fun and joy. It is part of being a woman. That is why every year I take pleasure in our full dress recital which we perform for family, friends and general public. If it is a long time since you danced, and really moved your feet and legs and hips and spine, then perhaps you should consider trying an African dance class to connect your self to the rhythm of old woman earth.

Latitudes

Last night Fule and I were in Kichener at the Trinity United Church on Frederick Street for a volunteers appreciation night. The se volunteers had served only months ago to bring Lori-Ann Livingstone's dream to life: KW's own cross cultural (Latitudes) storyfest. We had performed at this remarkably well organized festival in April with a host of other performers. Now at last the tireless volunteers who had missed the fun were going to enjoy a bit of it.

The evening began with the tastiest finger foods from samosas to bite size sausage rolls, spring rolls and meat balls, pita bread and assorted dips, crackers and cheese and a delightful tray of cheesecake and other sweet squares. We were so intent on eating, we started five minutes later than the start time, with me rushing to settle my food in the belly. Spirits were high and we felt cosy, relaxed and like we were among friends. There was the welcoming address and an explanation of the night's agenda. Then I was given the microphone. We sang Fanga for a welcome and a blessing. My theme for the night was "Community". I told one story from Uganda and another from among the Soninke and those went down really well. We sang again to end my halfhour piece with Fule's accompaniment on the djembe.

The next few minutes were used to explain the needs and plans for the next festival including community initiatives supporting kids learning ESL and new immigrants. Lori-Ann received a surprise appreciation gift, a wall piece which read: "Home is where the story begins." James Gordon then regaled us with songs and stories connected to Kitchener and his other travels. It was altogether funny and very pleasant. So the evening ended and we braved the harsh October wind to return to our cars for the return journey home. I wish Latitudes the very best. It has had a good start and it promises to do much for the KW community.

For myself, I took a couple of business cues from the organization and also from James.
Dr. Mohammed Yunus has won the Nobel peace Prize for his tireless work against poverty through his Grameen (micro finance) Bank. We salute him!

Jiwani, the U o Guelph and The Masai Fundraiser

The University of Guelph has committed to raising $100000 toward the Lesotho HIV initiative in support of Anne-Marie Zajdlik's campaign. Last night there was a dinner at the UoGuelph's Peter Clark Hall where Alastair Summerlee, the university's president chaired and/or emceed. I can't tell for sure because we (JIWANI) were the entertainment and were mostly engaged in transferring our drums from car to hall, getting dressed and rehearsing to quiet finger drumming in the coat area. The hall was full, bedecked with well dressed ladies and gentlemen and white table cloths on wine. We saw Mayor Kate Quarrie who left right after Anne-Marie's speech, to catch her sleep before the 7am start to her City Council day. She left with apologies, regrets and well wishes. Two years ago, Her ladyship of the Royal City and I sat together during a Girl Guide Award dinner where I performed Ananse stories from Ghana.

This time though she really missed the high energy Jiwani ensemble, performing our vivid and vibrant re-creations of the Koukou, Guinea Fare and Sorsonner dances of Guinea. I also told an Ananse story: How Debt came to Asante (Ashanti). It is quite the story. Did you know that before colonialization there were only two Ashanti words for loans/ debt and after colonialization there were probably five more words created to describe the various manifestations of interest on loans.

Anyway I met Dr Summerlee, personally. Guelph being the kind of place it is, I discovered that his child took piano lessons with my nephews from the same teacher years ago.

People who made donations at the event came out with a designer plant in a brick, each brick signifying the building of something concrete or symbolic. I'm yet to discover what, but this I know: they are building health for someone somewhere.

Dr. Anne-Marie Zajdlik and Masai Clinic

I met Dr. Anne-Marie Zajdlik last year when Masai Clinic was officially opened in Guelph, Ontario. We were introduced by the very dynamic Susan Watson who advocates for foreigh trained doctors , called IMGs (as if we were some kind of anti-missile weaponry). Anyway Susan is great and when she asked me to play for Anne Marie's Masai Clinic official opening, I agreed and went along with Fule and Bamidele Bajowa to perform. By the time the afternoon was over, we were very impressed with this woman who has fought for the rights of HIV positive patients in our tricity area. I think she used her personal funds to buy the building which houses the clinic in downtown Guelph. It was at the opening that she announced her decision to fight for Africa's HIV infected populations and particularly for the Lesotho project, spearheaded by Stephen Lewis and the Ontario Hospitals Association. Her aim is to raise $1,000,000 for the Lesotho HIV initiaitive. Since then we have provided some entertainment for some of the fundraisers here in Guelph which have been supported and organized by another amazing woman, Joanne McAuley. In the process Anne Marie has become a well sought after speaker. She has also won the Y(M)WCA Woman of Distinction Award for lifetime achievement.

Anne- Marie is of particular interest to me because like me, she is a trained physician. I have this feeling that our ages may not be that wide apart, but I could be wrong. Perhaps I'm way older! As a writer, I think of the contrasts that would work to enhance a great plot: while she works in the medical profession as a product of Canadian Medical Schools, I work in the arts due initially to frustrations in the (anti-missile ) IMG program. But I'm not complaining, the ARTS to me seem to be a gift from God and the many ancestors who passed on earth long before my time. I feel that I have received an inheritance of immense proportions which I am to direct in such a way to give ultimate glory to God and upliftment first to my fellow Africans and then to all others. Anyway I look forward to how my life as an artist evolves, especially considering the modern day needs of Africa and then the rest of the world. I imagine that the time will soon come when I can tie in medicine with the arts to fullfil the totality of who I am, as I straddle two countries and two continents to which I belong, Canada and Ghana; Africa and North America.
If you haven't given to Anne-Marie's initiative do so--- at least Ten bucks as James Gordon's song goes, "What is it to you?"

Please do something about HIV in Africa. There are many other smaller initiatives that need your help too!

http://www.masaicentre.ca/africa

African Dance Class -the book

African Dance Class by Adwoa Badoe
Photographs by Wolf Kutnahorsky
Scholastic Canada Ltd.
ISBN 978-0-7791-6464-6

It is such a great pleasure to announce this new work published by Scholastic Canada for their Literacy PLace for the Early Years program. The book is so vibrant with photographs of the kids who attended my fall dance session. One can almost hear the drumbeat and see the kids in motion. The text is also very lively. This book will keep my memory of teaching dance in Guelph long after I have retired from it and I'm glad for such a keepsake.

Michelle is riveting as the star of the book and I think she's going to gaze at this book a million times before she's done with it. I think every school which sees it will order it with the entire program. Some things in life a re a treat and this is one of them.

Tomorrow Jiwani performs at the University of Guelph for a Maasai fundraiser. I'm really looking forward to that.

Hogbetsotso

The third annual Hogbetsotso festival was celebrated by of the Southern Ewe Association of Toronto on Saturday 7th October. It was my second time of attending with our African dance and drum troupe, Jiwani. I love Hogbetsotso first for the drum music of the Anlo Ewes dictated by the base Atsimevu in compelling dialogue with the dancers. Next I enjoy the obvious delight that Ewes have in their culture and traditions and I love the young dancers who perform the various dances.

Two of my nieces perform with this group and my cousin Gustav Quist is the Emcee. I must mention Mike who adds a lot to the performance of Misego with the natural rhythm of his movement as well as his leadership. Mike has three daughters who dance and the youngest daughter who must still be in preschool, is as amazing as the others.

The Hogbetsotso mystery is a pot cooking over a single log fire . It is a symbol of what unity can achieve. The Ewe have a long and difficult history of migrations and wars but in the end, their unity inspite of differences has made them to be one of the best knit groups accross state lines in West Africa. Hogbetsotso celebrates the escape of the Anlo Ewes from the wicked King Agokli of Notsie.

I must also complement the well designed costumes of the dancers. For this festival, we were honoured by the attendance of Ewe chieftains in our midst from Toronto as well as from the U.S.A. We were also happy to receive the honourable Jake Obetsebi- Lamptey, minister of tourism and diasporan affairs of the Republic of Ghana.

What could make the colourful Hogbetsotso better?
1. A definite effort to start on time whether the hall is full or not.
2.Perhaps an afternoon festival instead of a night festival to ensure that families can attend.
3.One suggestion from my point of view is to teach the youth and particularly the girls not only to dance but also to drum.

Here's a poem by Adwoa Badoe

The Drums of Africa

Poly-rhythms of our drum songs
Imbued with healing energies,
Replacing splintered soul
Piecemeal
By specific slap-base-tone
Combinations of palm, stick, finger
Against leather of camel,
Goat or zebu oxen
On carved lenke hardwood shell
…But
Wood will not sing and neither will skin
Unless the drum master calls out the tunes
By ancestral ear preserved
Deep in the forest
Where spirits drink palm wine
The rhythm is in my backbone,
I conceive it in my womb
I twist and turn and shake and make
When I hear the songs of Africa,
They call to me by name
When I hear the drums of Africa
They beat, they beat for me
I’m healed, I say
I’m healed again
Will drums alone save us?

Catching up!

Since July when I last wrote, I have performed storytelling at the Hillside festival and we have taught African Drumming and Dance at CAMMAC which was a great retreat for our family. We met wonderful families who were so enthusiastic about music. We had a time of it. I even wrote a poem about Lakefield:

Canoeing at Lakefield

Canoeing at Lakefield
Where only one
Fingertip stirs the lake
Just where it fills
Through the hairline breach
On the basin floor
Where earth sits secure upon the waters brow
Sending waves on a ripple course
One follows fast after another
And ever widening circles move
An unfurled leaf along a course
Languidly floating between B flat and D
And those who travel on Lakefield lake
Sing joyfully to the distant shore

After Lakefield I returned to writing. I have this manuscript which I plan to publish as a book guide for the DVD performance: The Griot's Journey.

September brought us all down to earth, with kids returning to school and studio programs running! This fall most my classes are full and bursting with enthusiasm. I am so pleased! I am teaching the Djole-an exuberant dance from Guinea.

September 7th to 9th was the Eden Mills Writers Festival weekend. On the Friday I met Natale Ghent, John Vaiilant and James Bow at a workshop for Grade 10 CELP students of Centennial CVI. I enjoyed the students and the various presentations. On the Saturday I returned to Eden Mills to attend a workshop where master storyteller Dan Yashinsky presented along side Sandra Sabatini and Nicole Brossard. Sunday was the festival proper which I relished for its simplicity, excellence and reverence for nature. Sabitini was brilliant. I met Stephen Henighan there and was happy to have his company. Danielle Schaub's book is out 'Reading Writers Reading'. It is a beautiful book and I'm very honoured to be in it- as I looked five years ago. I am in very good company.

We (Jiwani) performed at the Guelph for Africa event where Stephen Lewis delivered an impassioned speech on HIV in Africa and particularly Lesotho. We were glad to stand up for Africa and show off her colour and spirit in dance, drumming and song. James Gordon and Friends performed 10 Bucks and other songs. James was great as usual!

In September We won a Ghanaian Canadian Award of merit for promoting African Culture. That makes 2 awards so far since last year. That's it for now.

The Hidden Peace

My novel is called the Hidden Peace. It's been coming alive for 3 or 4 years now and I'd hoped it would have achieved print life in a bookshop by now. I'm not going to reveal the plot except it is set in precolonial Africa. I have sent it around a few friends and acquaintances and I have received a set of different reviews, ranging from gushing praise to radical criticism. Through the process I have discovered so much more about writing than I ever knew and I have new respect for writers.

What I really want is to take some months off to refocus and concentrate on this work but that time remains elusive and my space at the moment is shared almost completely with my family. My mind feels crowded but I still have enough time to write poetry. I think my poems may cross the publishing line first. Let's wait and see.

Adwoa

Guiding Mosaic

At the Guelph Lake, there are 2700 Guides from Canada and around the world discovering the world and challenging themselves. It is a bustling, energetic camp with all kinds of activities, from kayaking to fencing and Crime Scene Investigation. There are acitivities off site and actvities on site. The girls are sewing, painting picture frames, learning digital scrap book making and a host of other activities. Of course Fule and I were there for 4 days representing Readers and Rhythms and teaching the most energetic drum and dance workshops. It was a blast to introduce the probable future leaders of Canada and twenty other countries to the awe inspiring polyrhythms and dance moves of West Africa. I was pleased to have students from Nigeria, Grenada, Dominican Republic, the USA and Scotland and all the provinces in Canada participate. I hope the message spreads all over the world that there is nothing more welcoming than the passion of the Drum! So we appeared on Rogers TV Roger's local- just bits and pieces of our workshop and interview. Watchout as it will be showing all week. So shimmy-shimmy.

Adwoa

Marketing Brainstorm

I was considering strategies for distributing The Griot's Journey and although I had some ideas I had no energy to commit to the process today. I did not give in to the urge of creating. It is such an escape at times like this. I held out. I went shopping instead with my daughter. I cooked a Ghanaian meal, a version of garden egg stew with rice. It wasn't bad but it was still only a version, a contemporization of an old ethnic meal. It was better than nothing but the pieces of smoked salmon were strangely too sweet.

So tonight, I watch TV and grow stronger so that tomorrow I can start effectively working out my strategies. Some of the ideas will demand creativity, (which concept I had put on hold) the others have to do with finding a distributor and aggressively contacting and pitching several bookstore owners. My marketing will be creative and must impact my advertising. If I have ever had to plan ahead, the time is now. How do I get the attention of multitudes? Will this blog help? You tell me.

Adwoa

ANOTHER DAY

We watched a DVD today on drumming in Burkina Faso. It was fascinating, to say the least, how complex and developed is drumming in Africa. I think West Africa has the lion's share of this complex polyrhythmic drum music but I have no real proof or statistic for this statement and may be completely wrong. It is amazing how the styles of playing and the rhythmic patterns are changing as the village youth arrive in town. There seems to be a revolution as the drum reaches beyond the traditional djembefola families to the youth now influenced by radio music and tv music from the culture and out of it. I was amazed to see how the women of Burkina Faso in response to drum solos dance remarkably like the dancers of renowned Guinean ballets. The drum is alive and well in West Africa in old classical forms and in modern new polyrhythmic patterns which I hope the world at large will receive with joy instead of wanting Africa and her gifts only at their most ancient, exotic and other worldly forms. Nothing cheesy about this at all. Long live the DRUM!

Adwoa

The Griot's Journey unfolds

I still haven't figured out everything about blogging. My son thinks he can help me figure out stuff such as posting photos etc. I bet he can too! Today I've been working on a book to go with my Performance DVD , 'The Griot's Journey'. I'm thinking of including lesson plans for teachers. But it's Sunday and I don't like to work hard on Sunday. On the other hand I like to do bits and pieces and set my thoughts up for Monday.

You should check my website out www.afroculture.com
Have a look at my DVD and perhaps order one
The Griot's Journey is a storytelling experience like no other! Says who? Says me!

Adwoa

Canada Day at Frankiln Children's Garden

So today I was at Franklin Children's Garden, Centre Island with Fulé. It was exciting to ride the ferry again. I was there to tell stories to all the holiday makers celebrating Canada day at the Island. Not true! I told stories to a group of story lovers mainly, kids under 6 years old and their parents. So we sang and danced and told stories for about an hour under a shaded pavilion. The kids loved singing and dancing to the drum. What can I say ? We brought a bit of Africa into Canada day. It was good to see Jerry Silverberg again.

Adwoa