Griot's Journey Poster

My favorite poster (and also DVD cover) by far: The Griot's Journey. The DVD is available, check out http://www.afroculture.com/. Soon the book "African Legends" will accompany this amazing storytelling/ black history/African cultural resource. A Canada Council for the Arts grant was accessed for this Performance-DVD project. God bless Canada!

Recent Favourite Poster

What do you do with the poster once the event is over? Answer: Blog it! One thing we are dramatically short of is photographs for our December 16th event. I hope someone from the audience sends me one.

CHRISTMAS BASKET -Afehyiapa Basket

The very first photo of our Sunday event is in. It is a beautiful Ghanaian-Canadian basket of goodness for Christmas which was tastefully put together by Dorothy Odartey-Wellington, professor of Spanish at the University of Guelph and donated for the Northern Ghana Benefit 'An African Christmas Celebration. ' The basket held a wooden African mask, an inviting red-orange drink, cakes by Dorothy( Ghana style) and the best milk chocolate bars and chocolate drink made from the finest cocoa, Ghana's own Golden Tree brand. The basket was won at a bid of $70! I have said to Dorothy: here's an alternative business idea for her, when she wearies of teaching Spanish at university. We thank all the bidders and wish everyone a Happy Christmas and the best of the New Year. Afehyiapa!

Tomorrow We Dance

photo by Anuta of Translucence, Guelph.

Tomorrow, December 16th, we dance to celebrate Christmas in warmth, with the community of friends in Guelph and to give a small gift to people faraway!

The River and the Path

wading across the floods

There's an Akan proverb which says:

"The River crosses the Path; The Path crosses the River-which of these is the elder? The Path crosses the River; the River crosses the Path- which of these is older? We cut the Path to cross the River but the River is from long, long ago."

My take: We can choose wisely where to place the path, so long as we are aware of the River and the area of its overflow.

We have chosen to make a pathway of relief through celebration. You can help make this path across the river! You can help to make a bridge!

Celebrate Generousity!

A performance of River Bride by Adwoa Badoe's class of dance students

When I was growing up in Ghana, we didn't believe in Santa and it wasn't because we didn't want to, but we had no fire places with chimney entries to let him through! Santa was only ever at the Kingsway Store, and he was black. Besides he had very little to give for the price one paid for the short miniature train ride which one took across the department store floor. This did not agree with the books we read where Santa was Caucasian, and rode reindeer accross the sky. Yet his songs found their way across the ocean to our homes and schools and we learned to sing them. Still, Christmas was fun for the new clothes we received and the few toys we got but particularly for the food we ate: jolof rice with beef, chicken light soup, spicy goat meat- stewed or fried and fufu, gari-foto, fried ripe plantains and custard-and-cake. My mother made the best European desserts at Christmas! There was that thing she call "Blancmange", I have never seen it anywhere else! Then there were the bands of masqueraders, as though we were mixed up between Christmas and Mardi Gras, and visitors coming in and out all day, bringing good wishes for the year end, and the old Huntley and Palmers gem biscuits with or without the frosting on the top, which we ate and strung together for necklaces and tree decorations. In spite of Santa's absence, Christmas was good and filled with generousity and we sang of Jesus all season long! This Christmas I am looking out for fun and rest and recreation. We want to celebrate the year end with greetings of Afehyiapa, literally a good meeting of the ends of the year, as though time was a circle which began and ended at the same point. We now translate this greeting as "Happy New Year!" We want to remember the generousity of God and in so doing motivate ourselves to be generous to people. This is why in celebrating an African Christmas at the GYMC on 16th December, we give a gift to some others to make both ends of the year meet well, for them and for us too.

CANOE TRIP - EIGHT DAYS TO GO!

"Rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub."

My anatomy teacher, Mr. Ramaswamy, was completely befuddled by the nonsensical English nursery rhymes they were forced to learn in India. Befuddling perhaps to the adult mind searching for meaning in words but not to the child who hears the rhythm inside the words and the music within the rhymes.

" Trick-a true-too, three in a canoe." (This one is mine, stretched to the core...as these men were who rowed a canoe accross a flooded field.) I wonder if these three are farmers, going to look at their wasted fields, or relief workers going to help, or stranded victims being rowed to safety or perhaps journalists looking for a story. Maybe they are fishermen looking for a river. In any case it must have been the safest way to travel , with broken bridges and washed out roads. At least they would arrive safe and dry.

In Just TEN Days- HOMES

flooded house credited to Ghana Web

The homes of the poor may be constructed without complexity, using the commonest cheapest materials, earth! But it still takes effort and skill to build! And for those who live there with the fewest of possessions, there is still the pride of ownership of a piece of God's earth and the sense of security and belonging which bind a household together. A home is where life begins, food is shared, stories are told and dreams dreamt at night for the better tomorrows just around the bend of the horizon. .....Perhaps, there will be a good harvest and God willing, the children will be healthy, some money may be saved toward the next year and those dreams of a new house built of cement with a shiny aluminum roof, may find the magic to come to life.

The FLOODS REVISITED-14 DAYS MORE

A cornfield is devasted after the September floods of Northern Ghana.

The expectation of the children, when they open hands and mouths to be fed, is among the most basic of needs. Food is the first inspiration for human activity, the primal urge to rise, search, gather, farm, emigrate and... fight. It is the primary impulse of the infant who finds her mama's breast with closed eyes and whose thirst is quenched and hunger fed, by the one activity of nursing. Food determines survival, growth, health, security, opportunity, possibility, dreams and vision. Food reassures the individual and the community of the love of God and that of their fellow man. A self sustaining people gain in confidence and self respect . They expect more of themselves because they are assured of their place in nature and their equality with all other people.

In many areas of the world the acquisition of a well balanced diet is no small feat. Even in places where food production is subsidized and food is abundant, there are some who starve and many who eat poorly. Sometimes people spend much money to eat substandard fare leading to the unprecedented rise in obesity, in wealthy nations. Starvation may kill faster than overeating. In the end, food and a well balanced diet is a basic human right which must be won for humanity!

I have heard parents cry foul when children leave food uneaten on their plates. "Think of all those hungry people in Africa!" They say. I say, don't just think of all those hungry people and gripe about a little wasted food on a plate, "Feed someone somewhere and better still help someone to feed themselves." What does food mean to you?

Fifteen More Days to Our Benefit for Northern Ghana

..my friends from northern Ghana holding a drumming party for me in Accra....

In September, floods ravaged the Northern and Upper regions of Ghana as well as Burkina Faso. Burkina Faso opened up sluice gates to a dam built on the Volta River, further flooding the region. More than twenty people died and 300000 people were displaced as their homes were swept away. Nine or more bridges were lost and the roads all but dissolved under the rising waters. The Northern and Upper Regions of Ghana, areas which are drier than most parts of Ghana, received about half of it's annual rain fall in those few days of incessant and heavy rains. Cropped fields were swept away and people fled here and there to join already overcrowded families living in difficult situations. The aftermath of such floods include water born diseases such as dysentery and cholera which can spread so quickly among vulnerable societies, not to mention malaria of the drug resistant types which is already endemic in Ghana. Then there are the mental health and emotional concerns for those with so little who have lost everything, for up to 80 percent of the people in this area earn less than $1.00 a day.

It is several months since the disaster itself but responses and actions tend to be more hesistant and difficult to achieve in certain places, and even in the USA where Katrina spilled her waters a while ago, we saw the helplessness of the mighty USA. The thing about disaster is that, while it is so devastating, it gives the worldwide community a chance to embrace a certain part of the world, if only for a short time. And within this embrace, if it is done with the right spirit, is the culture of our communal worldwide healing as humanity.

THE END of NOVEMBER

Jiwani performing Sunrise Village at the GCDF 2006 at the Exhibition Park

The end of November has brought the snow at last and also rain. December calls already and Christmas lights are strung here and there on denuded trees, welcoming the season. The lights cheer us up, giving us something to look forward to, as darkness overcomes the greyness of our days.

I have heard back from my publishers, and it is looking good for one picture book and my young adult novel. I am so pleased; so thankful! The good news includes a publishing break in Ghana, West Africa, so November's end has brought me great news. In Guelph I am in the thick of producing an epic storytelling CD to be released in the new year. I can't wait!

We are planning a Christmas Concert for December 16th: Jiwani in Concert with Adwoa Badoe. Two Ghanaian singers, Janet Akuamoah and Araba Badoe will also sing for us and Organic Groove will also be performing. It is looking good. Tickets are only $10 and will go toward relief for the victims of the devastating floods of Norhern Ghana which caused a number of deaths and displaced 300000 people.
email me at adwoa_badoe@yahoo.ca if you want information of this fun warmth-giving performance in December. Enjoy and be a blessing!

LATE BLOOMING

There is this gratitude we have for those flowering plants which bloom late, just as fall gives up all her fiery leaves for mulch and the sun kisses the sky a sleepy goodnight or good-day. It's hard to distinguish between dawn and dusk and the sometimes even the middle of the day deceives. And in my garden, a late blooming Black-eyed Susan or a cousin to her, unbelievably winks at me while the garden has already began the dirge, that Requiem in a minor key, which will sound for months for the dead and the dying. It is the Late Bloomer: the forgotten, the dismissed, the outcast, whose time has come to shine. What hope that nature advances to expectant hearts: for SARAH, a child in her old age!

I came accross information that Morgan Freeman acted in his first recognizable movie part after age 50 and yet at 70 years he has risen to become one of the best known actors, black or white, while those early birds may have long since thrown in the towel. He is known for acting authority parts whether he is a jail-bird, or a chauffeur, full of advice and wisdom and those extra smarts that catches the felon. He's even acted God in Bruce Almighty!

Cheers to those who are still waiting to bloom, the season is changing!

photo credit: http://www.eonline.com/

storyTeller

People say we are not necessarily what we do but I do think that to some variable degree we are indeed what we do. So much of the way we see ourselves, how we portray ourselves, our self assurance and self confidence arises from the fact that we are professional world class chess players or we teach at university or have published a book, or that we treat patients at a hospital or play major league baseball or mother children in comfortable child secure homes. It's just the nature of things, even though we believe that before God, we are simply human and who we are is defined by the essence of our spirituality, personality or attitude.

Ever since I entered the outcast world of the artist, I have struggled to define myself. The centrality of my themes and ideas lie within Africa yet I find myself composing in various media and oftentimes crossing geographies and histories inhabited by people of African descent. It has occurred to me that I am quite simply, a teller of stories, whether, I write them in picture books, or collections, anthologies or novels; also when I perform oral telling or song or dance and even when I'm privilleged to teach or preach or take medical histories of those patients of mine, once upon a time, in far away Ghana, and write a daily report of their well being on a hospital ward. I have discovered that in all of these the connecting link is the STORY and how it tells through me!

Young Street Mission

Storytelling at YSM over the months, to a great group of seniors has brought many storytellers to the fore. I began during the winter regaling the seniors with stories and songs and of course the drum, all the time with the aim of getting their memories awakened and their tongues telling. From an uncertain beginning after lunch on Tuesdays or Thursdays, we began to explore personal stories of all kinds, folktales and humourous short stories and jokes. I often began by singing, and followed up by telling folktales. Most of the seniors from the Caribbean recognized Anansi stories. Then I began to work in the personal stories and if anyone was counting they'd be amazed at the stories we shared. I learned three songs from the seniors and I taught them about five songs. We even danced to our songs and also to the drum.

Today the children from the homework club were invited to share stories, song and dance with the seniors. The many who had never heard a story from a grandparent did so, as well as a poem, two dances, a chant and a rhythmic song. Such a blast. It was pleasant to hear a good story from one of our young guests today. It was a story she had heard from her grandfather. I will be putting the stories together for the seniors soon. I am grateful to them for allowing me to observe the workings of story in their midst!

Late Great October

My 'funlight' this month has been storytelling for seniors at Young Street Mission. There I recounted a personal bike accident story as well as a song story I had learned in elementary school. My teacher Miss Quao had a particular affinity for what I might call English blues and it was with much fun that I sang "I Married a Wife, O then," to a rousing chorus from my senior audience. I have been telling stories to the seniors for months and now some of them tell their own stories, mainly personal stories which make for much laughter and nostalgia. We also sing together remembering Caribbean songs, Linstead Market and "There's a Coloured Girl in the Ring." To this we add African call and response songs and sing about peace and food, as we tell of Anansi and Ijapa and other rascally story characters.

I am getting stories ready for the recording of my next project Song of Wagadu, Song of Africa and looking to show this performance in other venues. I have been thinking about beauty, destiny and the beauty of destiny. I like to think that I am like ancient Wagadu. Whenever the guilt of men causes her to be lost, she gains a new beauty which makes the splendour of her next appearance even more glorious. With this in mind, I enter into greater freedom as my birrthday approaches. I have chosen the beauty of the flamboyant tree of Ghana to represent my soul aflame with passion and liberty. Hooo Dierra, Agada, Gana, Silla, Hooo Adwoa!

Great October

Interactive storytelling at it's greatest 'get down and do it.'

Two competing energies in October: I'm still in the grip of the writers' itch and have indeed sent off one manuscript and close to sending two more, perhaps next week. It's been a very creative fall so far, story plots for oral telling and for writing are falling into place in my mind and on paper. My stories are written down for the February show. I'm thinking of calling it, 'Song of Wagadu, Song of Africa! I keep changing the title and who knows what I'll end up with?

In the end, I did not complete my transitions and I'm living within a complex system of tides, rising and falling, shifting me this way and that. I've been dancing, but it was hard getting back into it. Thankfully our end performance for the Guelph Go-Go Grandmothers was very well appreciated. It seems we needed the energy of performance to bring it all together. We got our edge back and I was pleased to perform Spirit Alive as a solo piece.

I met the writer Gail Nyoka, lovely lady, and purchased her book: Mella and the Nánga. Abeeku came to visit after a couple of years. My eyes are opening more to see the wonders hidden inside our ordinary lives. Wynne came to visit for Thanksgiving, which this year ended up exclusively family. He came and left and I didn't fall apart, although I experienced emotional fragility. I waited alone until the bus left with all the blessings I could call for. The season's established with cold winds and rainfall and the leaves in bright reds and orange littering the grass and the side walk.

My thoughts remain circular: I want to write more. How do I get better? How do I solve the problem of marketing and distribution. I have to think more business. I want to stay creative. At least I'm writing. At least I'm happy and I celebrated my anniversary!

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!