Last Days at Dagbe (or, Maybe Now I Won't Sweat as Much)

My, oh my. I'm back from my strenuous weekend at Dagbe with the requisite sore back and arms. And legs. And butt. And chest. And blistered feet. And bug bites. But, this being our third time there, I have definitely gotten in better shape since the first time. I'm less sore and could still function on a basic level after performing on Saturday. Yes, I said PERFORMANCE. Because we had to perform three different dances on Saturday night. Gahu - the one we learned our first weekend there. Akyagbeko (I think that's how it's spelled) - the stylish war dance we started to learn last time we were there. And of course Agbagya (again, spelling?) - the most famous of the Ewe dances that involves pumping your chest and flapping your arms like a chicken. All three. We had to perform, in front of a large number of people from Kopeyia (the village where Dagbe is located). NOT COOL.

I was definitely not on board with this until I found out one very important detail... We get costumes. And props. Gahu doesn't involve much in the way of props but I got to play a girl so I got a head scarf and a top and skirt. The "boys" got tops and little hats and this large cloth that is tied into a diaper like bottom. But for Akyagbeko we all got the diapers (as in the dance we are playing a rag-tag bunch of teenage boys who use these awesome furry sticks that have spirits in them that tell you how to win the battle) and sashes to hold up wooden swords on our sides. AND war paint. We all got war paint. I looked fierce, Tyra would be proud. Michael, the American guy who is staying at Dagbe for the next few months, got our first dance on video and a little bit of our second dance. Hopefully we'll get that before we get back to the states.

The dance itself was long and exhausting. The first one probably went on for almost half an hour. Then we had to go change and do our second dance right away. It went fine, nothing to brag about and I'm positive our Oboroni-ness helped soften the fact that we were pretty terrible. After our two main dances, the staff did this awesome war dance in the most ridiculous costumes. Picture tutus made out of African cloth on grown, muscly Ghanaian men. Also they are wearing weird hats and leggins with cuffs of rafia. Yep. It was pretty great.

Otherwise, my secondmost crowning acheivement of the weekend was my spectacular basket. I'm telling you, I was meant to weave baskets. I should take up knitting, I really like zoning out and crafting for an afternoon.

So now I'm back to the daily grind of university life. It's tough not having classes on Mondays. What's a girl to do? Perhaps read some Murakami Haruki and "study" for a possible pop midterm tomorrow? Maybe meet with my NGO's group to work on our Non-Graded project/presentation? Maybe I'll just nap... I haven't decided yet. The day is young. We'll see what ends up happening...