Happy New Years from Accra!

I got dropped off at the Hotel in Accra and promptly went out to wander around. I went to the internet cafe (from where I posted last) and upon my return ran into some boys who called out to me. As I passed they said, "What, you don't want to talk to us?" I shook my head and laughed, thinking to myself that some things are truly universal. About a hundred paces away I had second thoughts as I envisioned spending my first night in Ghana twiddling my thumbs in my hotel room by myself on New Years Eve. I doubled back, approached them, and said, "Hi. I actually have nothing better to do. My name is Madeleine. What's up?" We had a sort of awkward encounter and I ended up going back to the hotel anyway only to re-encounter them on the rooftop lounge. I started talking to one of the boys, Joseph, who was going to church that evening for New Years Eve service. I agreed to accompany him.

While I was in Atlanta, I met a guy named Tony who said that my prevailing thought when traveling abroad should be: "What could possibly go wrong?" Anyone who knows me well at all is probably shaking their head right now knowing that I really don't need any encouragement for that sort of thing. Given a choice between a slight chance of danger and definite boredom, possible danger wins every time with me. While I cannot say that better judgment prevailed that night, I can say that better opportunities arose. Instead of getting in a taxi with boys I just met, I got in a taxi with a girl I'd just met. Her name was Hagar and she worked at the hotel and invited me to go to church with her. In broken English she made it clear that I should be dressed up/well and modestly. Entirely unprepared, I did my best by throwing on the only skirt I'd brought and a button down top. Not exactly nice or well-dressed by any means, but it was enough to satisfy her, and we headed off.

In the United States, New Years Eve is for drunken antics; New Years Day is for nursing hangovers; and January 2nd is for dragging yourself to the gym like you've promised yourself you will do everyday of 2011 (ha!). Not so in Ghana! From what I gather, the tradition here is to go to church in the evening to ring in the new year by asking God to forgive your sins of 2010 and ask Him to bless and guide you in 2011. It took us about an hour to get to the church. We first took a tro tro (a sort of communal taxi with fixed routes that essentially is the surprisingly efficient city public transit system here)--and then a taxi. Hagar and I arrived around 10:30pm, and the service had already started. We left around 3am before the service ended! The service was really lively. People were dancing and singing and shaking and shouting. There was no staying in your seat here. The congregation moved freely up and down the aisle, outside, up in the front and center--everywhere! The service was conducted mostly in a local dialect so there was alot that I missed. When I arrived, people were coming to the microphone to give testimony (speaking about their trials, faith in God, and the prevailing goodness of the Lord). There were about 200 people there. Between the speakers the associate rector would speak. They had a pretty full band there: a drum set, tambourines, and two keyboards.

Around midnight the priest took the mic to usher in the new year. He instructed the people to cast the devil out, then to praise the Lord Jesus, then to let Jesus into their hearts, and finally to ask Jesus to use you as his servant. Following each instruction was about five minutes of praying (people pacing and jumping as they muttered and shouted pretty much whatever they wanted with some ritual chants mixed in). Then there was prophesying. The priest would go around and pick out someone and tell them what he saw in their future. If it was good, then they prayed for it to come true. If it was bad, the priest cast it out. About half of the time casting it out meant nothing except a priest's hand on their forehead. The other half of the time the receiver of the blessing would be filled with the Holy Spirit, start convulsing, often falling to the ground, and sometimes having to be restrained. This was so commonplace that there were four designated people there to control the person filled with the Spirit's body so that they wouldn't hurt themselves. This became problematic when the priest was blessing a large group of people and several people would be filled with the Holy Spirit at once, & the church was suddenly short staffed as far as people to catch those engaged in a sort of "trust fall" were concerned. I quickly got used to this and was only really alarmed when the priest went to bless a woman with a baby strapped to her back. The priest (and the Holy Spirit) took it easy on her, but she still stumbled backwards. I jumped up and gasped but, luckily, this went unnoticed amongst such a charismatic congregation. (She didn't fall by the way).

Nevertheless, I wanted to avoid the priest's blessing at all costs. There had been two collections already. I'd given 1 cedis each time and was prepared for the third until Hagar told me that anyone who gave 10 cedis would receive a blessing and the priest's special protection for the new year. This was clearly a suggestion, but there was no way that I was going to put myself in that position. This was not only because I did not want for a strange man to put his hands on me and not only because I would have no idea what to do if I got blessed but also because it was starting to feel sort of gimmicky...like religious capitalism. Take Hagar for example. She makes about 100 cedis per month working at the hotel. After he asked for 10 cedis offerings the priest asked for an offering of 5 cedis and then for an offering of 2 ¼ cedis, which Hagar gave (in addition to 25 pesados at each of the two previous offerings). We split the first cab fare and if I hadn't paid for the second, she would have spent almost 10 cedis total that night. I am going to assume that the 2 ¼ cedis was for a special occasion, but I am also assuming that because church is so important to her that this is not the only offering she will give this month. That is a true tithe to a church whose priest bestows his highest blessings upon those that give the greatest offerings from someone who makes the rough equivalent of $65/month...

After all of this there was a Bible reading--1 Samuel: 9-19--and a sermon. This was given in both English and the local dialect so I understood a bit more even though I am still having a hard time understanding the accent of the Ghanaians and the two languages were sort of spoken on top of each other. The reading was the story of barren woman (the mother-to be of Samuel) who wanted a son. To entreat God to give her a son, she promised Him two things: (1) no razor would ever touch his head and (2) she would "give him back to God" (raise him to be a servant of the Lord). The basic message was that what God gives to you, you must give back to God. He gives you life, so you must devote your life to serving Him. If He has blessed you financially, then you must make offerings to Him.

After the sermon was the blessing of the water. (Water is a big deal since it is scarce here. It is common practice to greet someone with a bottle of water as a sign of welcome). The practice of blessing water is not unique to this church but it's not a nationwide practice either. The idea behind it is like the idea behind Communion. Everyone gets a bottle or bag of water, and the priest entices and the congregation prays for the Holy Spirit to inhabit the water. This, like the ushering in of the new year was a 12 minute praying/chanting/shouting process. Finally the people drank the water and were thus filled with the Holy Spirit. This was followed by a symbolic foot-washing and more singing. We finally made our exit around 3am. I don't think a service of this length is typical though. Eric from HAS told me that most New Year's Eve church services end around 1 or 2am.

Though the last place I imagined I would be at 3am on New Year's Eve, I figured "when in Rome, do as the Romans do..." I'm signing off for now. More thoughts on religion in the Buduburam refugee camp next post!