Judy spent a year and a half in the Ashanti Region of Ghana doing fieldwork for her degree in anthropology from the University of Pennsylvania.
It is customary among the Ashanti people to ask those who arrive in a village to be greeted with a rather formal gathering in which they are asked “What is your mission?” and the person is expected to explain in more or less detail the purpose of their trip and how they got there.
I was informed of this expectation the day I arrived to stay in the village of Donyina, so I tried to think what I could say that would be understandable to the people, and hopefully, encourage them to welcome my presence among them. I told them that Bishop Sarpong had chosen Donyina as the best place for me to stay to do the work I had come to do. It went more or less like this:
My name is Sister Judy, and I came here from America, which as you know is very far away. The people in America don’t know a lot about Africa, but Africa is becoming more and more important, and Americans need to understand it better. I’ve come to learn about being Ashanti, because the Ashanti are people who are well known for their achievements and their culture. When I’m finished, I’ll return to America to teach the people there what I’ve learned.
I’ll need your help to learn your language and your customs. Think of me as like a child who makes mistakes because she doesn’t know any better and needs to be corrected, not because she means to be impolite. I know you are a very special people, and I’m excited to be here.
It was dark when I finished, and I could barely see their faces above the kerosene lamps they held. Master Anderson, the catechist, told me that I was welcome and they would do everything I needed to help. They clapped.
The very next morning, I headed down the main street of the village with Francis, my assistant, to meet the chief. On one side of the road, folding chairs were set up in two or three rows, and perhaps twenty or so men were seated on them. Now Twi is a language with many greetings, which I had been studying, and I thought of a greeting for many people sitting down. I felt very pleased with myself as I walked by, waved, and called out “Ma atenasi oo!”
Instead of the response I expected, they all started shouting! “Francis!” I said, “What’s wrong?”
“They want you to greet them!”
“But I just did!”
“No, they want you to greet them.”
“But …” Francis pointed to the people in the chairs, and said, “You start on the left and go to the right.”
I saw a subchief seated in the middle of the group, and headed toward him, sure that I should begin with the most important person. The people started shouting again. Francis reminded me, ”Sister, you start on the left and go to the right!” This time I obeyed. I started on the left, shook hands with each person, and greeted them individually. There were murmurs of appreciation. I felt a little sheepish, but was also pleased that I had learned an Ashanti custom.
The next morning as I was getting dressed, I heard a commotion outside my door at the Mission House. Someone knocked and I heard Francis call my name. I opened the door. A line of people were carrying things on their heads: bananas, oranges, pineapples, mangoes, etc. Who were these people and what did they want? Did they want me to buy those things?
I began to recognize some of the people who had occupied the chairs yesterday.
“Francis, what is happening?”
“They are bringing you gifts.”
“But why?”
“Sister, they know that white people don’t like to be corrected.”
I thanked them profusely, and told them that they didn’t have to do that; they had done what I had asked them to do when I make mistakes, and I hoped that they would continue. Some began taking every chance they could to correct me, which made everyone happy.
