LIVING: Aunt Elizabeth

If there is one thing Elizabeth is not its average. That's clear right from the first time you meet her. Usually you find her infront of her pharmacy - one of her life-projects. You find her sitting on a blue plastic chair, maybe she is talking to her neighbors as they pass by: dynamic and cheerful. Maybe she just started dining on some fufu or perhaps she is searching for the right medicine for a sick child, a family member from Busua who came to her shop with one or two cedis (Ghanian money). If she's not in the pharmacy then she might be on her terrace, setting an elegant breakfast for a few foreign backpackers or in the kitchen preparing crepes; avocado filled, with fried bannanas on the side. Or maybe she is at a meeting in Agona. On Sunday afternoons she preaches her living faith at the Church she helped build, nestled among the other houses at the foot of a hill. Wherever you meet her you recieve an warm, open, authentic welcome; lukewarmness and half-heartedness are permenantly absent. You can't remain an acquaintance for long, before you know it a trusting friendship is built.

Yes, aunt Elizabeth is definitely not average. For me, she represents the prototype of the instinctual, archaic, and timeless women as described by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in the cult classic Women Who Run With Wolves. Elizabeth has within her the primal strengths of women - strong, curious, tough, brave with a playful spirit. During our time in Busua she became a sort of Ghanian grandmother to us.

As one of the rare ambassadors and boosters of education in Busua she played a crucial role in convincing Ebenezer to build a library in Busua and helped him to get his program started. Before the library was built volunteers stayed with her. The beginning wasn't simple, and her help and encouragement within the community really helped. Even now, after the project has become well accepted in Busua, Elizabeth still welcomes new groups of volunteers and gives them help and advice.

The story of how she recieved her education begins when she was a little girl. It was, and is, especially difficult to motivate children who live around the coast to go to school. Although the situation is better now, when she was a little girl absolutely no one wanted to go to school. The teachers came to the Chief for help. After nothing else seemed to work the Chief enlisted the help of several of the men in the village. They go from house to house and, in one way or another, take the children to school; Aunt Elizabeth was also forced to go to school in this manner. Today, she says with a smile, she's very thankful to the Chief.

Her story is rich. She has accumulated many memories since those early days in Busua, some of them also fill the pages of her photo albums. Black and white photographs of a pretty, young ghanan women, pictures of friends and family, of her as a nurse, of her with the first volunteers, later as a pharmacist, and last of all as a Charismatic minister.

It seems that all we could write about her wouldn't be enough, so I borrow the words of Novica Novakovic:

"...I have a very big heart, almost as big as the miner who descends amidst the coal, with a wide smile and white teeth, even though he never knows if his bright face will drink the sun after the shift-change; like a house servant, who washes, irons and cleans the floor and windows with an innoccent song; like a fisher on Dalmatian island, who slowly and deliberately inspects and repairs his hole-filled netting and then sets to sea; like a farmer, who cautiously plows his field and fights--once with the drought, next with the flood--helpless, but determined and proud...

I have a heart almost as big, and in it enough room for all people, from the east and the west, the North and the South, and enough room for jazz and blues."

 Sonja

Če kaj teta Elizabeta ni, prav gotovo ni povprečna. To je jasno že ob prvem stiku z njo. Ponavadi jo najdeš pred lekarno - enem od njenih mnogih življenjskih projektov. Sedi na modrem plastičnem stolu, se morda pomenkuje z mimoidočimi sovaščani. Dinamično, nasmejano. Morda ravno obeduje fufu ali išče primerno zdravilo za obolelega družinskega člana busujskega otroka, ki se je, s CD-jem (ganska valuta) ali dvema, zatekel v njeno lekarno. Če ni v lekarni je morda na terasi, kjer z vso skrbnostjo lično pogrinja mizo ter popotnikom pripravlja palačinke. Avokadove, z ocvrtimi bananam. Morda je na sestanku v Agoni. Ob nedeljskih dopoldnevih pričuje svojo duhovno prebujenost skozi poslanstvo pastorke v eni od busujskih cerkva. Kjerkoli že jo srečaš, si deležen odprtega, pristnega sprejema, zaznaš da izstopa, da mlačnost in polovičarstvo pač nista v njeni domeni. Zdi se, da z njo ne moreš ostati zgolj znanec, ne da bi se zavedal z njo zgradiš zaupljiv prijateljski odnos. 

Da, teta Elizabeta nikakor ni povprečna. Zame predstavlja prototip instinktivne, arhaične, z brezčasno vednostjo obogatene ženske, ki jo je v kultni knjigi Ženske ki tečejo z volkovi pronicljivo ilustrirala Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Elizabeta je ena od žlahtnih »pražensk« - močna, radovedna, vzdržljiva, povezovalna, pogumna, igrivega duha. V času najinega bivanja v Busui, je postala najina nekakšna nadomestna ganska babica.

Kot ena redkih busujskih ambasadork izobraževanja je igrala pomembno vlogo v začetnem obdobju knjižničnega projekta. Začetki niso bili preprosti, zato je Ebenezerju njeno aktiviranje znotraj lokalne skupnosti zelo pomagalo. Tudi zdaj, ko v skupnosti okoli projekta ni več dileme, Elizabeta odprtih rok sprejema nove skupine prostovoljcev in jim ob morebitnih težavah priskoči na pomoč.

Pripoved o svojem izobraževanju je pričnela z anegdoto o takratnem Chiefu. Ker je v obmorskih vasicah, tudi Busui, otroke izjemno težko motivirati k obiskovanju šole, se je Chief tega izziva lotil na nekoliko nenavaden način – po hišah je poslal nekaj starejših fantov, ki so otroke (tudi Elizabeto) »zlepa ali zgrda«  odvedli v šolo.  Danes se Chiefovim strogim prijemom s hvaležnostjo nasmeje. 

Njena zgodba je bogata, kot se za osebo njenega kalibra tudi spodobi. Od časa Chiefovih represalij do danes se je nabralo premnogo spominov, nekateri od njih polnijo tudi strani albuma. Črnobela fotografija mlade ganske lepotice, fotografije prijateljev, Elizabete kot medicinske sestre, gostiteljice prostovoljcev, lekarničarke, ter naposled, Elizabete karizmatične pastorke. 

Zdi se, da karkoli bi zapisala o njej, ne bi bilo dovolj. Naj mi zato pomaga Novica Novakovic s svojo mislijo: 

"..Imam zelo veliko srce, skoraj tako veliko kot rudar, ki se spušča v premogovnik, s širokim nasmehom in belimi zobmi, čeprav nikoli ne ve, ali bo njegov sajast obraz po koncu izmene uzrl sonce; kot hišna pomočnica, ki celo življenje pere, lika in pomiva tla in okna, ob tem pa veselo in nedolžno prepeva; kot ribič na dalmatinskem otoku, ki vsak dan počasi z zanosom pregleduje in krpa svoje luknjaste mreže in se nato odpravi na morje; kot kmet, ki skrbno orje svojo njivo in se bori enkrat s sušo, drugič s poplavo, nemočen a vztrajen in pokončen; ; kakor babica, ki me je vsakič, ko sem napovedal svoj obisk, ure in ure nestrpno čakala na balkonu, da bi me zagledala, kako prihajam izza vogala, da bi me objela in se pogovarjala z mano.

Skoraj tako veliko srce imam in v njem je dovolj prostora za vse ljudi, z vzhoda in zahoda, s severa in juga, in v njem je dovolj prostora za jazz in blues."

PROJECT: Photostory -- Final Chapter

-- Sonja

PROJECT: Goodbye from Butre

                              

                            Skozi življenje mnogih ljudi greš..

                             

                                Kaj puščaš za sabo? 

                           Je brazda v rodovitni njivi?

                             ali le izginula sled roke, 

                      ki je skušala zadržati nemirno reko?

                            Je plamen, izpuhteli v dim?

      Bela črta, ki za nekaj trenutkov ukradenih večnosti preseka nebo?

                         Kaj daš, ko vstopaš v njihova življenja?

                                          Kaj vzameš?

                                               

                                                                 (M.Kačič)                               

PROJECT: Reflection, First part

C. is one of the youngest students we teach. She knows very little English but is very eager to learn, and she liked Sonja and me very much. But despite her goodwill and efforts we were unable to teach her how to read even the simplest of books. C. would often volunteer to answer questions and would try her best to produce some English, despite the laughter and derision of her classmates (which we of course did our best to stop), she kept at it, she kept asking Sonja and I the words of the book Bingo and Bisi over and over again, but there just wasn't enough time for Sonja and I to dedicate ourselves to her, with so many other children in the class, so unfortunately we weren't able to teach her to read. But she was always cheerful and positive and although she doesn't know it, an attitude like hers can't help but inspire. I think that she is more confident in herself now and more dedicated to learning then she was at the beginning, I hope that our attitude and efforts toward her will help her in her quest to learn. I am certain that she will eventually be successful on her own.

But, of course, I'm disappointed that we weren't able to help C. As Sonja wrote in an earlier post it's very easy for volunteers to fall into the trap of expecting results and then being inevitably disappointed. Her volunteer work at Hospice thoroughly purged her of the subtle vanity of expecting big results from her efforts; among all types of volunteer work hospice is perhaps unique in facilitating such a purgation because the people you serve are journeying towards fast approaching death. There is no measureable output at hospice that indicates success.

Our case in Ghana is different. There is a very direct hierarchy of outputs: first level - the child can either read the next word or they can't, second level - are words correctly pronounced or not, then speed and smoothness can be assessed. And automatically you do it, and you need to if you want to help people. But it’s not the point.

I had thought that I was totally immune to this greed for results, and both Barbara and Ebenezer warned against expecting too much. But after experiencing this first hand I don't think you can really guard against this completely without living through it. But we were able to help the vast majority of students to varying degrees. And even though results aren't the point of our work I still think it’s good to reflect on our efforts. Maybe it will help somebody else who comes to teach.

In the next 3 posts in this four post series I will discuss the achievements and progress of individual students (anonymously, of course) and the problems and challenges they overcame. I’ll talk about what I think we did well and what we could have done better.

//Tomaz

C. je ena od najmlajših učenk, kar je tudi eden od vzrokov, da je njeno znanje angleščine na nižji ravni kot pri ostalih. S Sonjo naju zelo 

sprejema in kljub njeni močni volji in vloženemu trudu, C. tudi ob koncu trimesečnega intenzivnega bralnega obdobja, še ne zna brati. Navkljub pogostemu zbadanju ter smehu sošolcev (ki ga kolikor je v najini moči poskušava ustaviti), C. vednoznova dviguje roko, poskuša odgovarjati na vprašanja. Znova in znova prihaja s knjižico Bingo and Bisi, ter naju sprašuje besede. Na žalost pri skupini približno dvajsetih učencev ni dovolj časa, da bi se ji posvetila v zadostni meri. Kljub zavedanju, da je njeno znanje na nižji ravni kot znanje sošolcev, ostaja C. vedra, pozitivno naravnana, vztrajna; te njene lastnosti pa so, čeprav se tega sama  ne zaveda, inspiracija tudi za vse nas ostale. Občutek imam, da je v teh treh mesecih postala bolj samozavestna in se učenju posveča še resneje. Prepričan sem, da se ji bo taka drža obrestovala. Če sva s svojim vedenjem, vzpodbudami pridala vsaj delček k temu, sem zares vesel.

Kljub zavedanju dolgoročnega pozitivnega učinka na C. sem vseeno malce razočaran, da ji nisva tudi kratkoročno bolj pomagala. Kot je Sonja zapisala že v eni od prejšnjih objav, je velika past prostovoljstva v prevelikem pričakovanju vidnih neposrednih rezultatov, kar neizogibno vodi v razočaranje. Sonja se je te “igre ega” otresla skozi delo v Hospicu (kjer se ne da izmeriti uspešnosti dela, saj se ljudje, ki jih prostovoljci spremljajo, poslavljajo).

Najin primer je drugačen, saj “uspešnosti” ni težko izmeriti, npr: prva stopnja – učenec zna prebrati besedo ali ne, druga stopnja – izgovorjava besede je pravilna ali ne, hitrost branja, itd. Uspešnost meriš nezavedno, kar je tudi potrebno če želiš učencem pomagati. Je pa res, da to ne sme postati smisel dela.

Preden sem začel z delom po šolah, sem bil prepričan, da ne bom imel težav s pričakovanji (na kar sta naju opozarjala tudi Barbara in Ebenezer). A tekom projekta sem spoznal, da stopnja popolne neobremenjenosti z rezultati pride šele skozi konkretno izkušnjo.

Četudi rezultati niso bistvo najinega dela, menim, da je smotrno narediti refleksijo najinega dela. Le-ta bo morda v pomoč tudi drugim prostovoljcem pri njihovem delu. V naslednjih treh objavah bom pisal o napredku ter uspešnosti, izzivih ter težavah s katerimi so se soočali učenci (seveda bova ob tem ohranila anonimnost otrok), ter česar sva se kot prostovoljca lotila dobro in kaj bi lahko naredla bolje.

PROJECT: New Books

"My name is Maria. I live with my mother and father, my sister and three brothers. We live in Iramba Ndogo, a village in Tanzania. My mother says that when she was a little girl, big trees grew everywhere. Over the years, people have cut down many, many trees for farming, for building houses and for making charcoal. Without trees our rivers no longer flow all year long. We must save our trees or the land will soon become a desert...My mother joined the environmental commitee on our village council. She tells everyone to plant trees near their homes and farms. Our family is in charge of the village nursery..."

These are the words of Maria, a little girl from Tanzania, taken from the book Maria's Wish by Canadian author Kathy Knowles, the founder and leader of Osu Children's Library Fund. Environmental problems and solutions are presented through the story of this child. Maria and her family were witnesses to the deforestation of the land under the pressures of farming. Their village was badly impacted by the expanding desert. And what is Maria's wish?

"I hope the forest will return to my village soon. My mother believes this will happen if we try very hard. Then, when I have children, they can play under the shade of the large trees, just as my mother did when she was a little girl. If our trees come back, our rivers will flow freely again."

"Maria's Wish" is one of the "new crop" of books at the library complex. At the end of March Ebenezer returned from Slovenia. He brought some new furniture and a new collection of books, which we were very happy to recieve. Thus our "traveling library" has been enriched with new beginning-level, African-themed books that the children really like, which at the same time expand their worldview. The stories are enriched with large photographs which illustrate the story.

Ebenezer brought many books, a number of books are by the Candian author Kathy Knowles, among others is "The Lucky One", the story of Masawuda (who's name means "The Lucky One") a 10 year old boy born with crooked legs and hands, who despite being the target of ridicule from his peers, knew that his name was proper to him. One day he met Mr. Arnauda, who helped him find a doctor who cured him. Other books bear titles such as "One Little Crab" and "Mumaizu and the Hippos". A portion of the collection is also geared toward the most basic levels, in these books objects of a certain color are photographed throughout and the books bear the name of the color i.e. "My Green Book", "My Blue Book" etc. Ebenezer also brought some books for more advanced students of English.

Despite the fact that our volunteer work is coming to an end these books will help us during our last few classes and will certainly be a big help to the three new volunteers from Slovenia and all future volunteers. Thanks Ebenezer and Humanitas [who donated the books]! :)

We already introduced some of these books to our children at our last class and they loved them.


Sonja



 

" Moje ime je Marija. Živim z mamo in očetom, sestro ter tremi brati. Živimo v Tanzaniji, v vasici  Iramba Ndogo. Mama pravi, da je bilo v času njenega otroštva vse polno velikih dreves. Skozi leta so jih ljudje posekali - za kmetovanje, gradnjo hiš, ter izdelovanje oglja. Brez dreves reke ne tečejo skozi vse leto. Drevesa moramo varovati,v nasprotnem primeru bo na naših tleh kmalu puščava. ... Mama se je pridružila veškemu okljevarstvenemu komiteju. Vsem govori o tem kako pomembno je sajenje dreves blizu domov in kmetij. Naša družina skrbi za vaško drevesnico."

To so besede zambijske deklice Marie, vzete iz otroške knjižice "Marijina želja" (Maria's Wish) Kanadčanke Kathy Knowles, ustanoviteljice in vodje  Osu Children's Library Fund. Skozi preprosto otroško pripoved opozarja na okoljevarstveni problem njene dežele ter istočasno podaja rešitev. Marija ter njena družina so bili priče uničevanju gozdov z namenom širjenja obdelovalnih površin, gradnje hiš. Krčenje gozdov je vplivalo na rečne pretoke v tolikšni meri, da bi lahko privedlo do nastanka večjih puščavskih površin. S svojo vlogo v vaški drevesnici igra Marijina družina pomembno vlogo v lokalnih poskusih pogozdovanja. In kaj je Marijina želja? 

"Upam da bo v moji vasi kmalu ponovno gozd. Moja mama je prepričana, da če se bomo dovolj potrudili, nam bo uspelo. Potem se bodo moji otroci igrali v sencah velikih dreves, kot se je moja mama, ko je bila majhna deklica. Če se bo to zgodilo, bodo naše reke ponovno svobodno tekle."

"Marijina želja" je ena od osvežitev knjižnjičnega kompleksa. Konec marca se je z oddiha v Sloveniji vrnil Ebenezer.  V Busuo je pripeljal nekaj zelo uporabnega pohištva ter, česar sva se še posebej razveselila, novo kolekcijo knjig. Tako je tudi najina "potujoča knjižnjica" obogatena z novimi poučnimi knjižicami z vsebinami iz afriške kulture, ki otroke animirajo, istočasno pa širijo njihov pogled na svet. Zgodbe so obogatene z ličnimi fotografijami, ki oživijo svetove pripovedovalcev. 
Ebenezer se je odločil za več knjižic kanadske avtorice Kathy Knowles, med drugim tudi The Lucky One, zgodbo desetletnega fantka Masawouda (njegovo ime pomeni "the lucky one"). Kljub temu, da se je rodil z zvitimi nogami ter rokami, bil posledično med vrstniki večkrat tarča posmeha, pravi da so mu starši dali pravo ime. Nekega dne je namreč srečal gospoda Arnauda, ki mu je pomagal najti ortopeda, ki ga je pozdravil. Tu so še knjižica En majhen rak (One Little Crab), Mumaizu in nilski konji (Mumaizu and the Hippos). Del zbirke so še sila preproste "barvne" knjižice: Moja zelena knjiga (My Green Book), Moja modra knjiga (My Blue Book), Moja oranžna knjiga (My Orange Book). Ebenezer je prinesel tudi težje knjige v angleščini, ki pa ne pridejo v poštev za najin pouk.

Kljub temu, da se najino gansko "bralno" poslanstvo počasi izteka, pride knjižna osvežitev še kako prav. Predvsem pa bodo nove pridobitve olajšale delo novih treh prostovoljcev, ki so prispeli pred nekaj dnevi, ter vsem prihodnjim prostovoljcem. Hvala Ebenezer, hvala donator Humanitas! :)

Iz knjige Maria's Wish:

LIVING: Rainy Season

Ghana's temperature varies little throughout the year, in August it is 24.7°C on average, while at its hottest in March it is 26.8 °C. At the end of March the rainy season approaches.

Sonja and I hoped the rainy season would lessen the sweltering heat; it did. But it also brought with it an increase in humidity. Though on the balance, I think it's better. The rains come in quick, torrential squalls. Once last week I saw the sky begin to turn strange. I went out to the beach and walked out in front of the resort: thunderheads, their tops illuminated brightly, their undersides darkling. Streamlines of flying sand divided around my ankles and flew on toward Busua. A circular gap in the clouds bathed the near-beach in uneasy brightness while farther from me the beach was already dark. A lone figure walked from Butre, his clothes flapping wildly. Four boys came up the beach from Busua. Then the rain started to pour. I took shelter under the roof on the outdoor patio at the resort where Sonja and I sometimes eat french fries. I saw the boys later, still sheltered under the eaves of a concrete storage house while I was on my way back to the library. The rain came in at a 45 degree angle, I sheltered from the driving rain and the wind behind a pillar. The resort employees were cleaning up after the easter rush, they were out cleaning the open-air dance floor. They continued, undisturbed by the rain.

A few minutes later the rain slowed to a drizzle and I went back to the library complex. Sonja had put a towel beneath the window to hold out the driving rain. She hadn't noticed that some water had also forced its way under the door. So far that was the biggest storm of rainy season.

The start of rainy season also corresponded to the arrival of crickets. I'm not sure if the two are related. At night their chirping layers-over the periodically breaking waves.

-- Tomaž


Temperature v Gani skozi leto le malo variirajo. Najhladnejše, avgustovsko povprečje se giblje okoli 24.7°C, najbolj vroče, marčevsko, pa okoli 26.8°C.

Smo v začetku deževne dobe, s Sonjo sva upala, da bo prinesla vsaj blago ohladitev. Temperaturna razlika se zares čuti, kar pa žal ne velja za stopnjo vlage v zraku, ki se je kvečjemu le še zvišala. Kljub temu je deževna doba za občutljive zahodnjake veliko blažja ter prijetnejša. Blagodejen vpliv ima tudi dež, ki se pojavi v hitrih sunkih, tudi večkrat na dan. 

Prejšnji teden sem bil priča doslej najmogočnejši nevihti. Nebo se je pričelo nenavadno spreminjati. Stal sem na plaži pred Resortom ter opazoval oblake. Izza zgornjega dela so silili zaslepljujoči sončni žarki, medtem ko je njihov spodnji del postajal vse temnejši. Veter je raznašal mivko. Pričelo je deževati. Zatekel sem se v zavetje pod streho zunanjega dela Beach Resorta. Sunki dežja so padali pod kotom 45 stopinj, zato sem se pred vetrom ter dežjem skril kar za steber. V svoji delavni poziciji pa so ostali zaposleni, ki so še naprej, navkljub dežju čistili plesišče.
Nekaj minut kasneje se je dež umiril, ko je le še rosilo sem se odpravil proti knjižnjičnemu kompleksu. Tam sem našel Sonjo, ki se je spopadala z deževnico, ki je pronicala v sobo. Vzdolž pod okno je položila brisačo, da bi jo zadržala. A voda je na najino smolo našla  pot tudi pod vrati. :)

Deževna doba je poleg blagodejnega dežja ter znižanja temperatur prinesla tudi čričke. Moč jih je slišati ponoči, ko se njihovi zvoki mešajo z bučanjem valov.

LIVING: Easter Monday

We learned the language of the Ghanan road in Accra, the "law of the honk", the basic method of communication. The roads in Accra are like the roads in Rome, which we both visited shortly before going to Ghana; the roads in Rome are like scenes from Fast and Furious. We noticed that honking in large measure replaces traffic signs and all the rest of "Western" road etiquette. For example, instead of following the rule of "person on the right goes first" the typical Ghanan driver will honk loudly and force his way through a crowded intersection, while everyone else does the same. In the countryside, where there are no speed limits, drivers warn pedestrians, goats, and other drivers that they are about to race through a village. At the market in Agona taxis honk continously as they slowly crawl through the sellers and the buyers. For me, honking triggers childhood memories of bridal proccessions wending there way past me from the church to the reception, their members announcing the good news to the world.

There is no wedding in Busua today; no swarm of aggressive taxi drivers, but the sound of loudspeakers blaring music from restaurants and the sound of traditional drumming which come from the beach mix with honking. All together it makes a cacophony of unusual sounds which give the impression of a celebration. This impression is correct, because today Ghana, and especially Busua, celebrates one of its biggest holidays -- Easter Monday. This is a day when extended families gather in their villages of origin to celebrate. With feasts of rice, fufu, and fish specialities. This is also a day when cars, tro-tros and buses which have occupied every inch of Busua announce their ALLELUIAS with honking.

Today Busua is a tourist spectacle with a carnival atmosphere and streets that are filled like the streets in Accra and a packed beach resembling the Brazilian Copacabana. The Beach-Resort and the other restaurants along the beach are packed. There is no doubt that the preparations they made over the last couple of days were necessary: the concert setups and the opening of large beach-side grills. This is certainly one of the days that Ghana tourism lives for and lives by.

The Easter Holidays in Busua are really celebrated according to Pauls:"Always be joyfull". We experienced this yesterday, at the charismatic service at Aunt Elizabeth's church. At this church, the members of which are mostly women and children (at least according to our two visits), the services are filled with dancing, drumming, and the charismatic preaching of Aunt Elizabeth through which there resounds a loud, untiring ALLELUIA! :)

Today the holiday spirit moved from the church to the tables which were occupied by various branches of the family, and after this to the beach where the festivities of the citizens of Busua and their in-land family and friends continued.

Sonja

Že v Accri sva se naučila prometnega jezika Gancev – “zakona hupanja”, ki je osnovni način komunikacije na cestah.  Spominjal naju je na rimske ulice, ki sva jih obiskala ne dolgo pred tem, le-te pa na dirkalno stezo iz filma Fast and furious. Opazila sva, da v ganskih mestih hupe v veliki meri nadomeščajo prometne znake ter ostala “zahodna” cestna pravila. Npr. namesto tihega upoštevanja desnega pravila, ganski šoferji zahupajo in si s tem opozorilom vzamejo prednost.  Na podeželju, kjer ni tabel z omejitvijo hitrosti, šoferji s hupo opozarjajo pešce, koze ter ostale avtomobile, da se približujejo. Na agonski tržnici divje hupajo predvsem taksisti, ki se v koloni počasi prebijajo skozi stojnice in pešce. Doma v Sloveniji sem hupanje povezovala predvsem z otroškim spominom na kolone svatov, ki so okrašeni svetu naznanjali veselo novico.

Danes v Busui sicer ni poroke, kot tudi ne množice nestrpnih taksistov, a kot le redko, se z glasbo gostinskih teras ter glasbo tradicionalnih bobnov, ki donijo s plaže, meša hupanje. Skupaj tvorijo nenavadno simfonijo zvokov, vsekakor pa dajejo vtis prazničnosti. Ta vtisni ni zgrešen, saj je danes za Gano, prevsem pa za Busuo eden največjih praznikov – velikonočni ponedeljek. To je dan, ko se zberejo širše družine in praznujejo. Ob rižu, fufuju, ribjih specalitetah. To je tudi dan, ko s hupanjem svoj ALELUJA oznanjajo kolone avtomobilov, tro trojev, celo avtobusov, ki ta dan zasedejo Busuo do zadnjega kotička.

Danes je v Busui pravi turistični spektakel – ob bučnem, skorajda karnevalskem vzdušju zapolnjene ceste spominjajo na tiste v Accri, plaža z nepregledno množico turistov pa na brazilsko Copa Cabano.  Beach Resort ter ostale restavracije ob plaži so polne. Zdaj ni dvoma, da so se splačale priprave zadnjih nekaj dni, ko so gostinci postavljali ogromne grile in z “live bandi” vabili prve goste. Prav gotovo je velikonočni ponedeljek eden tistih dnevov v letu, za katere živi (in od katerih živi) busujski turizem.

Za ganske velikonočne praznike zares velja tisti Pavlov: “Zmeraj se veselite”. To sva spoznavala najprej včeraj, na velikonočnem bogoslužju v cerkvi tete Elizabete. V tej cerkvici, ki jo (glede na izkušnjo najinih dveh obiskov) obiskujejo predvsem ženske in otroci, je na velikonočni dan ob ritmu tradicionalnih bobnov, ob plesnih gibih ter karizmatični pridigi tete Elizabete, donela glasna, neutrudna, nekajurna ALELUJA! :)

Danes se je praznično veselje iz cerkva preselilo najprej za mize, kjer so se krepile vezi razširjenih družin, zatem pa na plažo, ki je postala prostor za pomenkovanje ter druženje nepregledne množice Busujcev, njihovih “celinskih” sorodnikov in prijateljev.