Adanwomase, Ghana, West Africa

I arrived in Adanwomase late in the afternoon. I was excited to begin my studies. They insisted that I rest. I flew into Accra and had to take a bus (tro) to Kumasi. Once arriving in Kumasi I had to change buses and travel to Adanwomase. I loved it there it was a quiet town. Not much to do outside of weaving.

I should back up and tell you about my first trip there. I drove down from Cape Coast after visiting all of the Slave Castles and such. I was to begin my first set of lessons before returning to the States. The drive was nice I arrived in Adanwomase mid-afternoon. As I traveled on the pothole filled dirt road, I could only imagine what it would be like. I finally saw the sign that said "Adanwomase, Home Of The Royal Weavers." That's it I knew I was were I wanted to be. I drove to the Tourist Center which was an old concrete building with paint chipping. It inside was hot but they had a ceiling fan on. They were excited that I was interested in their craft. The inside of the building was painted a light blue. It had a saying written in Kente on the wall, "Support tourism not Aids." I was more fascinated by the fact you could write in Kente than reading the actual message. It took several visits to the Tourist Center for me to actually read the cloth.

I was met by two relatively short men, Eric and Osei. Eric was older than Osei. He had a weathered look about him, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was serious and precise, he was a man that got thing done. Osei was young, in his mid 20's. He was a handsome man with a youthful vigor and very respectful.

After greeting me, they explained the agenda and showed me to my room. I placed my luggage down and Osei gave me a tour of the town. The photo with the bed is the farthest right corner of my room. The other is the farthest left corner by the door. It was quaint to say the least. The room measured 10'x10'. It was big enough to sleep or write at the desk. I put my suitcase under the bed to conserve space. I also had a mosquito net just in case.

It felt like home. They went the extra mile to make it feel like home for me.

Kente Side Bar

I warped my loom. I will attempt to weave beads into my kente cloth. It's not traditional Kente but I think I would like to do something a little different. I am still setting up the loom as I would for traditional cloth but I will add beads to the weft motifs. Wish me luck, I'm not sure how it will turn out. I will keep you posted.

Finally In Ghana

Before I went to Adanwomase, I took time to get to know Ghana. I visited Cape Coast, which I absolutely love. It was a bustling town by the ocean. Everything was in walking distance from my hotel. When I say everything, I mean food and Internet connection. Catching a taxi was easy so, if I couldn't or didn't want to walk, I had other means of transportation. I enjoyed the walks. Seeing the people, the culture and everyday life. I went there with no expectations because I knew nothing about Africa, let alone, Ghana.

I took a bus from Accra, the capitol, to Cape Coast. I settled into my room and was excited. I was like a kid in a candy store. I did not realize all of art and crafts I enjoy are right here in Ghana. I saw fabric dyeing, bead making, basket weaving, woodcarving and, of course, weaving cloth. I was ready. But first, I'm going to see the sights.

A Great Flight

I had a great flight. It was a 12 hour flight and I managed to get a lot of knitting done. I finished a pair of socks. I prefer 2 socks on 2 circular needles. I know me, if I don't do both of them at once, I'll move on to something else and not get them finished. I flew though the night so it would be day time when I arrived in Ghana.

As the pilot announced the decent into Accra, I began to feel a little sick to my stomach. I still did not have my VISA. Technically, they could ship me back back to the US and all my dreams would be shattered.

The airport was bigger than I expected. The plane landed and we exited outside. They herded us to a covered walkway. It reminded me of the plastic shelters seen at a state fair. The plastic held in the heat so it was steamy. It was like walking into a sauna. I quickly made my way to the building. Once you enter the building, there were 3 lines. One for residents, one for those who had VISAs and "VISAs on Arrival." I proceeded to the far left line, there were only 2 couples in front of me.

The security guard guided me to Room 3. I sat in this cramped, concrete walled room. It had one window that looked out onto the taxiway. I wondered, "what was I thinking?" Then I noticed the curtains were made of Kente Cloth. For some odd reason I felt comforted by its presence. After, the Immigrations Officer finished his call, he asked me why I was there. I told him to learn to weave Kente. He looked at me like I had two heads and granted me a VISA.

I rushed to the luggage claims area. I couldn't pick up my luggage until I had a VISA. I was afraid my luggage was not going to be there when I arrived. I pick up my luggage, grabbed one of the many taxis that were waiting and headed to my hotel.

I know you're getting tired of the ground work but, I thought it was necessary to share with you that this was not an easy trip. In order to become a Master Ashanti Weaver, I had to go back a second time. Have you every wanted something so bad you were "hell bent" on achieving it? If so, post a comment. Tell me what it was and how you overcame your obstacles. I think it will be inspiring for everyone!

On My Way To Ghana?

Sorry it's taken me a while to post. I've been working on a podcast, it took longer than expected.

So, I receive my passport and I make it to the airport. I was still quite nervous because I still did not have a VISA. I wasn't sure if I would get stuck in the John F. Kennedy Airport. If I did, I would have to go to the Ghanaian Embassy to get a VISA. That would delay my trip by 2 or 3 days. I crossed my fingers and hopped on the plane to JFK.

It was do or die. After a 2 hour layover, they asked everyone to make a line for passport check. Was learning to weave Kente worth this? I get in line and wait. It was brutal. The ticket claims person checked each person's passport and would check for the VISA stamp. There's one person in front of me. The Checker opens her passport then asked her to read the date on her VISA. Oh, my God! My stomach was in knots.

Wait did I give you the background on this situation? Well, when I didn't receive my passport in time, I had a"friend" offer to get me a letter from someone who worked at the Ghanaian Embassy. This letter would be on Official Letterhead and would state I would get a VISA on arrival. I'd planned on getting one on arrival, anyway, if only I could get there. This person wanted to charge me $100 US to do this "favor." My friend kept egging me on to do this. I know she thought she was helping but I refused. I would suffer the consequences and do things the correct way. If I couldn't get on the flight, I was willing to stay in JFK to do the proper paperwork. So, here we are.

I had my photos for my "VISA On Arrival" and my Yellow Fever vaccination records in my passport. I just started randomly talking to the Checker. Stuff was falling out my passport. She bends over to help me pick up my pictures. We're still talking she flips to the VISA page of the passport. I dropped my water bottle, I think out of fear. She hands me my passport, picks up my water bottle and tells me to have a great flight. Now I'm not endorsing distracting the Checkers they have a job to do. I just think in all the commotion she though she saw a VISA and I wasn't telling her different.

I boarded the aircraft, a 747 if I remember correctly, settled in and waited for take off. I just had this fear the stewardess was going to call my name and remove me from the plane. We took off and I began to relax into my seat for 12 hours of knitting and/or sleeping.

What would happen when I get to Ghana. Will customs send me back because I didn't get my VISA ahead of time?

The Prep Work

My first trip to Ghana was spontaneous. I did not have a lot of time to prepare for the journey. I gave myself 6 weeks to get all of my documents in order. That was an interesting turn of events.

"I went to the "Travel Clinic" to get my Yellow Fever inoculation. I was in a room with several people who would be traveling to some exotic part of the world. I was excited for my trip. I would live half way across the world in order to learn something I love, weaving. As I sit in the room gabbing about our travels my name was called. The nurse practitioner was full of information about traveling to a third world country. She handed me a brochure and began to prep the shot. It burned a little but nothing like the Hep A. They require you to sit there under observation for 20 minutes to make sure you're not going to have an adverse reaction. I didn't, at lease not within 20 minutes.

On my drive home I began to feel ill. My body was weak and I could barely hold my arms up to steer the car. By the time I got home, I had Yellow Fever. I had cold chills. I was running a fever and had cold sweats. There I was, in bed under several blankets shivering. Dare I eat? I didn't try it. I stayed positive thinking to myself better now then over there. By morning I was a little dehydrated but well.

Next came the passport. Is this an omen? I applied for my passport in plenty of time to get it back (so I thought). It was delayed. I had to prove my identity. This is what happens when you're too lazy to change your drivers licence to your new name. I was in a panic, I was scheduled leave in 1 week. I overnighted the docs to the Feds and said a little prayer. Is Kente Cloth worth all of this. I know how to weave. Of course it was, don't be silly.

I checked the passport website daily. Finally, I called. I was told it was overnighted and I was given a tracking number. It's at the Post Office. Immediately I drove to the Post Office. "Oh, it's at the Main Office. It will not be here until tomorrow. Apparently overnight is a 2 day process in a rural community. I explained to the clerk that I was leaving the next day and my passport is in the package. (Probably not a smart move I later thought) She said she would leave a note for the morning crew to pull it when it was scanned. She also gave me their direct phone number to the loading dock. She told me the morning crew got in at 4 am I left a little deflated. I'll just change my ticket, I thought. But inside I was bumbed.

I couldn't sleep all night. If my passport was not there, I would not be able to leave. I loaded my suitcases into the car. I had to be at the airport by 11 am, my flight left at 1:30 pm. I knew I had to do all the post 911 stuff. Plus, I forgot to mention that I did not have a VISA. Since I didn't get my passport in time, I couldn't apply for my VISA.

I called the Post Office at 4:30 am. They answered. I told him who I was, YES! they pulled it. I left the house around 5 am and went to the back door of the Post Office. After knocking on the steel door a pudgy man lets me in. I sign for my package and walked to the car. The moment my butt hit the seat, I ripped open the Overnight envelope. There it was the crisp, blue book I had longed to see. Up to this point everything had gone relatively smoothly. I even had time to stop for breakfast before going to the airport.

I wasn't out of water just yet. What will happen when I get to the airport without a VISA?

Weaving In Ghana, West Africa

I went to Ghana, West Africa, to learn to weave their traditional cloth, Kente. I never had a desire to go to Africa, outside of Egypt, but the challenge of learning a new style of weaving really appealed to me. I had no preconceived notions of what it would be like or would I be accepted, I just wanted to weave. I had no desire to get in touch with my "African roots" or pretend to understand the culture. I was fascinated with their weaving structures.

I didn't speak the language nor did I know the cultural quirks, but I felt compelled to go. It was almost like I was being drawn to this cloth. So, I packed my bags and went to the village of Adanwomasi in Ghana to become an Ashanti Master Weaver. This village is in the Ashanti region. Although I was trained in both the Ewe and the Ashanti style of weaving. The Ashanti style Kente is what one thinks of a "Kente Cloth."

This endeavor would prove challenging. First, women don't weave, period. I would have to convince the tribe to allow me to learn ALL of the techniques in weaving this cloth. Trust me, this was no easy feat. Some men of the tribe that were not happy about me learning and the women were appalled, but more about that later. Plus, I had to cross the language barrier. Most people speak a "broken English" but, I had to learn enough Twi to do my day to day tasks. I was required to stay there for 3 months in order receive a certification and the title "Ashanti Master Weaver."

I hope to share with you the joys, trials and tribulations I experienced while receiving my certification. Hopefully I can inspire you to step out of your comfort zone and try something new.