Agoo . . . I May draft

WO2WA in Ghana Day 2

We left out of SFO with many hitches from Marcus missing the flight completely to my almost missing the flight several times before I finally arrived at my seat steam rising from more than my collar.

As I sit here in my room at a lovely Youth Hostel, Agoo. . . I hear the faithful reciting beautiful words to the creator or his Messenger. It is the first night of the blessed month of Ramadan-- one day down with minimally 27-29 more to go.  It was this kind of faith that wrapped or covered each of us as we stepped from the plane onto the motherland -- many among the group home for the first time. This second evening I heard two young women expressing how welcome they felt.

I think more than the actual country, which I had been to before was the warmth carried in the relationships created over the past 1-3 years between the poets in West Africa and the poets America. After feeling displaced and or tolerated more than wanted, here for the first time for many was acceptance and genuine care and love. At the morning meeting, rain pouring in sheets-- the Atlantic and the Pacific shaking hands and slapping high-5s. Karla and Black -- what a perfect name right?! had between them developed a relationship and a vision for this public reunification.We'd looked ahead at the weath forecast and were not surprised  by the precipitation; however, we were not looking forward to getting wet and for the most part, we didn't.

The Slam poetry form formalized in the United States long before the film-- Slamnation based on the work of early "spoken word artists": ? and Wanda 

Ehelakasa, the poetry ensemble formed almost 20 years ago have invited Oakland to a duel of words. Thursday evening the poets were busy rehearsing their performances. Our taxi driver, Penny said he would come and bring friends to root for team Diaspora. Ehelakasa doesn't have a chance. Earlier this afternoon we were further pumped by the visit to the American Embassy where we met the Americans who live and work in Ghana like nurse practitioner LaSheera Washington and Bernard Gresham from Oglethorpe, Georgia. A 20+ year veteran, he manages the facilities for the consulate. We met folks who worked in security and other black folks who were so happy to meet us. Many of the men and women we met said they would come to the Slam this Sunday and root for the home  team.

At the meeting this morning, poets were excited to get copies of Door of (no) Return: African +/- American Contact Zone.

From Youth Speaks to Deaf Jam where the work was exported in a big way, was the spoken word tradition was returning to its roots when African poets picked up the microphone. Langston Hughes recited to live improvisational music or jazz while the blues tradition is the kind of poetry that heals as it hides coded messages between the designs on sheets.

The W.E.B. DuBois Center tour where the great man lies in state with his second wife brought Makeda to tears she said outside the gazebo where DuBois had a garden. The museum is the couple's last home together. It was great listening to the guided tour, part of a national service obligation all graduates from undergraduate school have to participate in for a year. After the tour, about half the group went to Osu Market where Xiomara purchased a lovely purse. The African Diaspora Center is another great place in the Center, along with a small bed and breakfast named after Marcus Garvey. The two men come together philosophically in Ghana through the vision and love of the Hon. Kwame Nkrumah.

As we walk through the halls, peeking in at the bathroom with sunken tub where DuBois bathed and relieved himself, there above our heads are great African leaders like: Barack Obama, Jomo Kenyatta, Patrice Lumumba and a young and dashing Dr. DuBois.  There are photos of Dr. DuBois's poetry collections and in his library hundreds of book. Like Booker T. Washington, Tuskegee Institute, Dr. DuBois believed in education to free black minds and critical in the liberation of our nations at home and abroad.

There is a Sankofa Wall which is a project to raise money for the many Diaspora African Forum Projects (DAF). Donors pay $100 for a brick which is then added to the wall, We missed Honorable Excellency Ambassador Erieka Bennett, Head of Mission, but perhaps we might catch her Sunday at the SLAM.

After dinner we went over to a nearby club. It is Ramadan, and it was the last show for a month. The band was excellent. The group honored Hugh Masekela and had a wall with photos of the great band leader. Zakkiyah had us up doing the Electric Slide which was fun until the band seemed like it was never going to end the song. Afterward Joseph came in with his colleagues from the Embassy. We talked and stayed shut the 233 Club down. We'd walked and gotten a taxi, however, at 1 am there were no taxis so Joe called Uber. The guy got lost getting to us and once we were in the car he couldn't figure out where we wanted to go.

Obi, who'd just arrived from Abijan helped him a bit and Karla a bit more and then it clicked in for the driver that he'd been at Agoo before.

I am still up listening to the call to prayer and supplications. Earlier it was so noisy I couldn't sleep. Now the noisy people are quiet. We are going to a school tomorrow to talk about poetry.