Screaming Babies at the Black Stars Match

Good news! I’m not going to be deported!! Friday I took a day trip to Togo (country boarding Ghana to the East).  And after a roundtrip trotro ride of 8 hours and 40 Ghana Cedi ($30) I got my passport stamped for another 60 days in Ghana.  We also had lunch in the Lome, Togo which only means one thing: amazing food, at least in comparison to Ghana.

Saturday we set out for Kumase to attend the World Cup qualifier match between Benin and Ghana.  For the occasion I donned a lovely red, yellow, and green Ghana sweatband to support my country of residency. In order to actually get the tickets we had to wake up pretty early (granted, it was after a late night of celebrating my friend’s 21^st birthday) and wait outside of the stadium in the rain.  Rather than buying the tickets ourselves, we have to pass money and a small bribe through the front gates for someone to run inside and get out tickets. In the process I met two little boys (they called themselves John and Little John) who were sweet talking all of the obrunis into buying them tickets for the match. I’m assuming they finally got some because I saw them in the VIP section during the match…and then the older of the Johns walked me back to the hostel – it was very sweet.

 

The match was definitely a very Ghanaian experience.  The Black Stars (Ghana) scored the first and only goal within one minute of the start of the game, but the rest of the match was fun to watch…although I know very little about soccer.  I’ve never seen a crowd so loud and excited in my life. I think some of the most fascinating things about this country are the different sounds that Ghanaians make.  One of the best I’ve heard yet is their war-like cry at football matches. The first time I heard it I thought a child had been hit by a car. It sounds like a dying baby, and I pinky-swear I am not exaggerating.  It is the most intense and shrill thing I’ve ever heard.  Every time one of the Black Stars came anywhere near the goal the screams would burst from the crowd. It most definitely took some getting used to. 

One thing to be thankful for is no one I know was injured or hurt during or after the match.  For the last match in Ghana, the stadium sold twice as many tickets as they have seats, and the stadium was so packed 6 people died of suffocation.  That was not the case this time, but I haven’t heard the official death count yet.  I do know that there was a scuffle outside the stadium gates, and shots were fired, but I was back in my hostel by that time. It’s a little intense how crazy the crowds can be, but I’m so glad I was able to go.

I’m beginning to realize how much I’m going to miss Ghana when I leave.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m very excited to consistently have running water (it’s been off for four days) and air conditioning and all of the modern conveniences of home.  But Ghana has been kind to me, and it’s beginning to feel like home. Every time I start speaking Twi, Ghanaians get the biggest smile on their faces – like they are proud of my efforts.  During the few hours the game was taking place I felt very proud to call myself Ghanaian, at least for the Semester.