Big Events Ghana Style

So our friends invited us out to a BIG awards dinner last friday night: an awards dinner for major businesses in Ghana. This is a pretty big deal - the banquet was held on the grounds of Parliment. This is like going to US Capitol Building for a buffet...a big deal for Ghanaians (and for us). We went to the exact same dinner last year, so based on two consecutive years of experience, here are my fieldnotes:

We arrive in our dress duds - Erin in "National Wear" (Ghanaian fabric, top and down dress), and me in pink dress shirt and blue striped tie. People in official uniforms direct us to the correct building on the Parliament campus (they are many and BIG). Full-on African drums and dancing welcome us - it feels a bit like a formal State function, or maybe the end of Return of the Jedi. Photographers taking pictures, flashbulbs flashing. We reach the top of the stairs and hand over our official embossed invitation to a long line of identically dressed beautiful women who serve as ushers. We receive a packet of information, which includes a menu, official program, and facts and figures about Ghana's exports. We've arrived a little late at around 6:50 (the event begins officially at 6:30, with the ceremony starting at 7, according to the program), but as we found both years, a little late actually means very early.

The place is huge (with maybe 50 8-person tables), and nearly completely empty. We are like the tenth and eleventh people to arrive. On the video screens, old "Tom and Jerry" cartoons were running without the sound (which is what was so incredible about T & J - they were funny without language). The Police Service Dance band is still setting up, in their dress blues. Official military bands in the US (Marine Corp Band, for example) usually play classical patriotic tunes. The Police Service Dance band, "fancified" in their uniforms, JAM OUT to reggae and high life (Ghanaian pop that mixes rock and jazz). Its like Bob Marley and Wailers with cropped haircuts and starched shirts. They were awesome. Amazing.

Time ticks slowly by...

By 7:15, the wait staff begin getting their stuff together, and hands us each a bottle of water. By 7:30, our waiter has opened a bottle of table wine, and assuring me that (I quote his conspiratorial whisper into my ear), "I'm going to take good care of you tonight!" Wow, sounds good!

The MC, a former big time Ghanaian journalist, starts trying to warm the (small, but growing) crowd up. He talks over the music, occasionally providing his own lyrical stylings, and commentary on the band. This is reminiscent of local Ghanaian radio where DJs talk over the music. It's like when you were a kid playing radio DJ, with one hand on the volume control, the other on an toilet paper tube microphone, turning the volume down when you talk, and then jacking it up when the next song is up, only in Ghana, the DJs cut the music mid-chorus. Hysterical.

So the MC tries to get the crowd into it, pulling a group of young Nigerian women (we're talking Nigerian models) out onto the dance floor. As he wipes away his own drool, he encourages brave young men out to dance with these ladies. Classy.

At this point, we're approaching 8, and I've had about a half bottle of red wine. I've been trying to "reduce" so I've cut out beer and liquor for the trip...but for such a special occasion, I thought I'd make an exception. With my empty stomach (oh, yeah, no food yet...more on that later), I was getting a little loose. Which is fun, since there are video cameras EVERYWHERE taking crowd shots and throwing them up on the video screen. So occasionally, I'd be groovin' in my chair to the music, only to find myself, one of the few obruni's in the house, on the big screen for all to see. I could usually tell when I was up by the sudden crowd laughter...

By 8:15-8:30, the place has filled up sufficiently. The President, John Kufour, is expected to show and give a talk (his picture is the first thing you see on the program, and it says "8:30, Keynote Speech, President of the Republic of Ghana, John Kufour"). So maybe that is the delay? Waiting for the President to arrive? Not really. Both years, President Kufour was on the program to speak, and each time a minister gave a speech in his stead. Our event was probably the fifth event he had overbooked.

Finally, the MC opens the floor for the award ceremony. The awards start flowing...the MC announces the organization, and then the representative is expected to walk up to the stage to accept the award. Only this place is so huge that it takes like two minutes to make ones way up to the stage. Oh, and the food hasn't been served. At around 9:30 the MC even made a joke of it...someone had complained and he said "Someone has asked that the food be served. I know you are all strong people, and that you aren't even hungry. You all want to wait for the awards ceremony to finish before you eat." Hmmm, the power of suggestion is strong...I survived that last hour by eating a Nigerian model.

The MC improvised a theme for the award ceremony: gender equality. Everytime a mixed group came up to accept an award, he would comment on the gender ratios of the party. "Ghana Seafood Distributors Limited, Silver Award!" Ghana Seafood approaches the stage: two men, one woman... "Oh, and Ghana Seafood celebrates near gender equality! The lady makes up for it with her beauty!" Classy.

10:30 arrives. Finally, after lots of talks, some pomp and circumstance by a presidential candidate, and after the awards have been handed out, dinner was served. It was pretty tasty. As I eat my rice and beef sauce, the MC starts announcing to the crowd that he is turning the event into a big "house party." He starts the party off with the minister and a queen mother dancing on the floor. The MC instructs the band to play "real ghanaian highlife." They strike up a tune. Immeidately he says "no no no. That is raggae. Don't you know highlife? I want highlife?" After one more false start, when the Police Dance band doesn't play enough high life ("Ghana's greatest contribution to the world," according to the MC), the MC shuts them down and turns the entertainment over to some DJ who starts spinning what he wants to hear.

Eventually people start going up to dance. Erin and I keep looking at one another - it would be fun to dance, but dancing obrunis always attracts attention...sometimes unwanted attention. After some debate, we decide, what the hell? Why not? We get up there and get our groove on, amidst ministers, CEOs, and Presidential candidates. Nothing weird about it, totally fun times.

After a few songs, we go and sit back down to get dessert. We start asking around for some ice cream, but no one seems responsive. I finally find my man - the waiter to promised to take good care of me. I asked for dessert, and he says, "Do you have a small dash? I need some transportation money." Not expecting to be bothered for a tip at a pre-paid dinner, I didn't bring anything small. All I had was a 10 cedi note, which was more than the dinner would have cost. For that matter, all he did for me was hand me a water bottle and pour me a glass of wine...it was a stand in long line buffet kind of meal. I said I didn't have anything for him, but asked if we could still have our dessert. Wishful thinking on my part...he said of course he would "take care of me," and then proceeded to hide in the back of the house for twenty minutes.

We had to give up on him...word got out to the rest of the wait staff that we weren't tipping, so there was no chance anyone was going to get us our ice cream. The MC started to wind down the party, and we decided to give up. We stood up, held our heads high, and walked out of parliament impatient, awarded-out, and ice-cream-free.