We Gonna Dance Allllll Night

This last week has been the best week yet.

The male initiation ceremony of Waa, which occurs only once every five years, started on Saturday. John and I hiked up a mountain to the village of Kuwdé, where we met up with other Duke in Togo students and watched the ceremony. Initiates who perform the ceremony range from the ages of 25 to 29. It's the final mandatory initiation ceremony in a Kabiye male's life, so it's hugely important. I think this ceremony for these people is the same as Christmas is for me - a superbly awesome day to which one looks forward like a madman.

The ceremony is all about dancing. When dancing, the initiates wear antelope skulls on their heads because the antelope is considered the most masculine of all wild animals. The horns of the antelope skulls are covered meticulously with feathers in the days preceding the dance. Often there are flags, toys, baby dolls, and other random objects lodged somewhere in the headgear. The baby dolls were the strangest form of decoration. Dr. Piot explained that they are implemented with the goal of capturing the sort of supernatural power that a wealthy ansarrah (person of European descent) is believed to possess.

The dance moves are pretty simple. A beat is created by the initiates' gongs, which are made by fusing together 2 hoe blades (reinforcing for us the importance of cultivation in this culture; it must also be noted that cultivating is the principal role of the Kabiye male). Sound is created when an initiate flips up the fused hoe blades to bang against a piece of metal that he wears on his hand like a ring. Word on the streets is that it's tremendously difficult to get these instruments to make the sound.

Tons of solum (sorghum beer, which represents blood, which is believed to be filtered to create sperm) and dog meat (dogs are the most masculine of all domestic animals) are consumed in mass quantities throughout Waa. Even though my best friend at home is a dog, yours truly tried some dog meat. It tasted like beef, and it was superyum.

Seeing the ceremony was alone excellent. What made it even better, however, was how inclusive it was. The other students and I were all encouraged to fully participate. People squealed with joy when we danced along with them. A girl handed me her fan so that I could help the other ladies cool down the dancers. Also, it must be said that this inclusiveness doesn't just apply to Waa. Togo is, in general, an inclusive place, and this is one of the things about it that I will miss most.

Waa has taken over the last half-week and thus is the main thing discussed in this entry. A few other occurrences are worth mentioning as well, however.

For reasons that I do not want to explain here, I obtained a pet rabbit (ansarrah kesonga, or rabbit of the white person; the opposite, kesonga, is wild rabit). He's by far the cutest creature in my homestead (I can't say village because I constantly see puppies and baby goats that make my heart melt).

Also, there was a monkey for sale at the Farendé market yesterday. He only would have cost 50 US dollars!!! It was really, really tempting, but I didn't buy him. Somebody else will buy him and, unless the buyer is an ansarrah like me, will roast him on a skewer.

I was recently very upset with the women of my household. The gist of the story is that they impolitely pressured me into buying 1,000 francs worth of merchandise. This is a small sum of money for me (2 US dollars) but a huge sum for them, which is what made the fact that they forced such a gift so incredibly rude. I was seized by the udders and milked like an ansarrah cow. Now that a few days have passed, however, I have cooled down about it and moved on. I'm trying my absolute best to see from their eyes - they are two widows with a household full of kids to feed, with the only income sources being beer-selling (not highly profitable) and Duke in Togo students. That being the case, what I consider to be a transgression is certainly forgivable.

One last brief story. On the 4th of July, some other students and I went to the big city of Kara for a cookout at an American's house. Walking inside was exactly like walking into a house back in the States, and it was really disorienting. The food was refreshing and delicious, and it was fantastic to hear some nice American accents. The whole time, however, I felt like I was cheating. We are inside a secluded little paradise with fans, air conditioning, good food, and cold drinks, with life being the polar opposite for nearly everybody outside the walls of the household compound. I'm here in Togo not to hang out inside a comfortable snow globe, but to hang out in what is Togo for Togolese.

In any case, let's talk a bit about kids. There were lots of kids at the Americans' house, and there are lots of kids in almost any given Togolese homestead. To be frank, the thought, "American children are wuses," kept running through my head. One child at the cookout was afraid of the gentle pet dog; a Togolese child, however, would feel comfortable catching and even slaying a dog. Also, Togolese children are hardened by a powerful hierarchy, which American children do not experience to this extent because of the relatively egalitarian American mentality. Togolese children living in the hierarchy receive the smallest portions of food, the least desirable pieces of meat (if any meat at all), etc. When I give my family a gift that's something sugary, it's the older members of the household who eat the most; the children are lucky if they even get 1 cookie out of the packet.

Time is running short, so time for closure. You all have a good week, and check back next Wednesday!