Wednesday July 4, 2012  Africa:  Day 24

            It was little hard to get up this morning and head off to work knowing that if I were in the U.S. I would be getting up to go sit in the gutter on Center Street to watch Provo’s Freedom Festival Parade.  I’ve only missed this parade two other times in my life, so it was kind of sad to think that I wouldn’t be there with my family watching the parade, barbecuing, and watching fireworks. 

            Despite my initial feelings of disappointment that I couldn’t celebrate Independence Day the way I usually do, today turned out to be the most memorable 4^th of July I think I have ever had.  Nothing has made me appreciate the significance of this day more than standing in the middle of a refugee camp feeling the anxiety, seeing the poverty, and listening to the stories of desperation and confusion of people who don’t have a country to call their own. 

On Saturday the UN declared the official cessation of the refugee status for all the Liberians in the camp.   Today when we pulled in to the camp, we noticed that even  more of the shops were shut down and things seemed pretty somber.  We parked the van in front of the main bulletin board and were curious why so many people were crowded around the camp’s main form of communication.  We walked over to see what it was about, and we saw every board covered with list after list of names.  The only explanation posted was a note that said “Interview Date”, and the names were grouped according to an assigned date.  People slowly figured out that the people on the list were those that had not ever told the UN their decision to either be flown back to Liberia or to be integrated into Ghana.  One woman pulled me aside and obviously just needed someone to listen to her story.  She pointed to her son and daughter, about 12 and 10 years old, respectively, and expressed how all she wanted was to find them a place to go to school.  Another couple of men pulled me aside with tragic stories of their own filled with pleas for help.  Oh, I wish there was a way I could help every parent find enough money to send their kids to school (which is only about 30 cents a day).  I wish there was a way we could get everyone settled in a country with a promise of housing and employment.  I just kept looking around and appreciating more and more the things that I have been privileged enough to take for granted, especially on Independence Day, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

We gave a presentation on domestic violence and abuse, stress and coping to a women’s vocational skills school, then went to the school just outside the camp to do a presentation on “The Rights of the Child” (a Ghanaian statute) and hygiene.  How do you teach the refugee students that they have the right to education, food, shelter, entertainment, and healthcare when in reality they may have the right, but no accessibility to such things?  How do you teach a child living in the camp to bathe and brush their teeth regularly when they may or may not have consistent access to soap or even water?  I guess the education has to begin with the young generation so that they hopefully improve things one day.

We spent some time again playing with the kids after we taught our respective classes.  The kids remembered the songs that I had taught them last week, and they would shyly walk up to me and start singing “Rig-a-bamboo” or “Tooty-Tat” so that I would start the whole courtyard  participating in the songs.  We also learned from their teachers that they had been asking about our return throughout the entire week.  I felt like a celebrity as I had to push myself through the crowd shaking a hundred little hands until I could get back on the bus.

We had the driver drop us off at the WISE office and caught a cab to Accra’s football (aka soccer) stadium.  We think there is a game this Saturday, but no one seems to know much information about it.  We had Dixon talk to the cab driver to get us a better deal.  The driver at first dropped us off at Koala, a nice grocery store in Osu.  We were really confused why Dixon had given the cab driver instructions to go there when we had told Dixon that we wanted to go the stadium.  So, we had the driver keep going until we found the stadium nearby.  Someone at the stadium sent us across the street to a gas station for tickets, but the workers there seemed very confused.  They told us that they sell the tickets at Koala.  Now it made more sense why Dixon had told the bus driver to take us there. 

The stadium is very close to Independence Square, a landmark in Accra.  We were all a little sad to be missing 4^th of July activities in the States, so we thought that Independence Square would be the best place to celebrate in Ghana.  We walked around the parade grounds and then out to the edge of the beach across the street while singing various patriotic songs.  The guards gave us funny looks while we walked right by almost reverently singing “The Star Spangled Banner”, “My Country Tis of Thee”, and “America the Beautiful”.  I think we all were just trying to process the privilege we have to be able to sincerely sing strains of “the land of the free and the home of the brave” and “sweet land of liberty” where an hour ago we had been walking in a land where many of the people have never experienced any of these blessings. Many still ache over the land where their fathers’ died, where bombs burst in the air, and after 22 years are still waiting for the time when there will be brotherhood in Liberia from sea to shining sea.

After we spent some time at Independence Square, we took a taxi back to Koala to try and buy their tickets.  The cab driver happened to have a pine tree air freshener that was decorated like the American flag.  We asked if we could buy it from him for 10 pesua (about 5 cents), and he happily agreed when we explained that it was our independence day and we really wanted a way to celebrate.  We took it with us everywhere we went for the rest of the evening proudly showing our little symbol of patriotism. 

The ticket people at Koala didn’t know anything about the game, but said to come back at noon on Saturday because that’s when they might start selling the football tickets.  African efficiency at its finest.  

We met up with Stephen and Ne at Zion Thai Restaurant in Osu, then went with them to +233, a great little jazz club.  Most of the tables are outside facing a glass-front building where the jazz bands perform inside.  Tonight we listened to West Africa’s only female jazz band.  I thought that this was the perfect way to celebrate the 4^th of July-listening to music that is a cultural bridge between Africa and the United States.  At one point Kelsey went in and told someone that it was America’s Independence Day.  A few minutes later the lead singer announces this and invites “Kelsey and friends” to come up and sing an amazing version “Happy Birthday America”.  It was ridiculously embarrassing, but Kelsey, Liz, Liyam, and I just went with it and danced and sang and had a great time. We even tried out our “Azonto” (traditional Ghanaian dance) moves.  The band thought it was hilarious, but I am pretty sure that most of the laughter was “at” and not necessarily “with” us.

Today I really missed sitting in the gutter on Center Street watching the parade.  I could almost smell the hamburgers on the grill in my backyard.  More than once the jingle “Stadium of Fire!” popped into my head and I wished I could be lighting sparklers with my nieces and nephews.  However, I know that next time I get to celebrate this holiday, each of these activities will be coupled with the faces and stories of the people I met today.  It just makes the time celebrating with family, barbecues, water fights, and fireworks even more meaningful because it means that I have a family.  I have food.  I have the blessing to not only belong to a country, but a country that represents freedom, hope, happiness, and opportunity to so many people around the world.