Merry Christmas, from Chief Sahanaa of Karaga, Tamale, Ghana

When I arrived in Ghana for my volunteer program, I really had no expectations other than to try and make a small difference in the lives of young children. Little did I know what else was in store for me...

One lazy Sunday, which also happened to be Ghana's Election Day, (If you thought the US Election consumed everybody's attention, Ghana is ten times worse!) I was sitting around the living room just listening to all the various heated political debates between my friends Jawad, Frederick, Omar, and others, including, "This Guy." Just for the record, "This Guy" had been dropping by the house on a pretty consistent basis, but I never really caught his name. I figured the time would come when we'd be introduced formally. He was a rather happy and jolly fellow, and I'd always slap fives with him and we'd greet each other like we had known each other for years.

Anyway, Grace, my neighbor, brought me a big bowl of fufu, which is basically mashed up yams, plaintains in a bowl of meat stew and very delicious. The texture and taste remind me of a favorite wintertime dish that my grandma and mom make, tong yuen. I asked Grace for a spoon to eat it with but all my friends objected loudly and said I'd have to use my hands. "When in Ghana," I thought. I went outside to wash my hands, came back, and ate about half of it before I was stuffed. I left it on the table and offered everybody around me if they wanted it. "This Guy" took it.

I went outside to wash my hands and when I came back inside I saw "This Guy" eating the fufu with a spoon. My big mouth just opened and said something to the effect of, "Why are you using a spoon, what are you, crazy???" The room fell silent. I looked around me for some signs of life but I couldn't even hear crickets. All I heard was Jawad say, "You just called the Chief crazy, man." As a side note, Jawad and I became good friends over the past week and we joked around quite a bit so I didn't actually believe him at first and replied incredulously, "He's a chief!?" I always kind of expected African chiefs to be wearing ornate headpieces and perhaps a few skulls around the neck-- something to distinguish them from the ordinary riff-raff. Well, my disbelief apparently caused further insult to injury as I not only called him crazy, but questioned his obvious chiefdomness. I took one look at him, and The Chief did not look happy at all. In fact, it was the first time I had seen such a serious, upset look about him. Sorta like how my dad looked at me when I was a kid and ruined the front lawn by trying, rather unsuccessfully I might add, to make my own water slide. Anyway, I apologized profusely, and did a special African dance of apology and told him I'd apologize the American way and buy him a beer the next day.

He likes beer:

From Ghana

He really does:

From Ghana

We made up:

From Ghana

Reminded me never to call him crazy again:

From Ghana

And said he wanted to make me a chief of his village...

From Ghana

I accepted, of course!!

The chief organized a huge party where I coughed up about a hundred bucks for my chief gear, consisting of a smock, pants, hat, money for the drummers, and of course beer for the elders. It is a huge understatement to say I was extremely overwhelmed. (I will upload pics and videos as soon as I get a broadband connection. Uploading those five pics above took 45 minutes!)Everybody in the village showed up-- kids, elders, women, men, road chickens, and even a few stubborn old goats made their way over to see what the commotion was all about. Plenty of dancing to drums preceded the actual ceremony in which I was given my smock, hat and some other formalities that I could not quite understand. They named me, "Sahanaa" which is pronounced Sah-ha-NAH, which translates indirectly to mean chief of opportunity and good luck/fortune. To the village of Karaga, I represent the opportunity to help make a difference. This is a really huge honor, as I have discovered, only one other foreigner has been asked to be a chief of a village in Tamale.

From Ghana

Being a chief of Karaga would entail no major obligation except to help out in any way possible when I come back home. As I told Frederick, helping the village out would not only be an honor, but I would know that 100% of my efforts and donations, whether they be books, clothes or money, would go directly to the village. Donating to organizations like UNICEF are absolutely commendable but sadly, the overhead involved in running them means a large percentage doesn't go directly to those who need it most and instead go to things like salaries and advertising. I'm not trying to diminish their objectives and the immense impact they have made, except to merely point out that if I send ten dollars to Karaga, ten will show up at Karaga. By the way, one dollar can buy 10 liters of clean drinking water, enough for probably four kids for a day.

Currently, most of the girls at Karaga have sponsors, donors, and charities who pay for their education at a nearby school that Sarah and Allie also volunteer their time at. Unfortunately, that program has not extended to the boys in the village. It is one of my long-term goals to establish, fund and sponsor a program for the boys and will be asking you for your help in the future, so stay tuned.

Here are some of the rules I have to abide by, now that I'm a chief:
1) I have to speak through a linguist, or rather, a spokesperson, to anybody. I appointed my friend, Al-Hassan.
2) I cannot walk alone, nor should I ever have to walk first.
3) I am not allowed to carry anything myself. (Somebody care to travel with me for the rest of the year and carry my 18kg backpack???!!)
4) People have to greet me by squatting down and clapping their hands together. (I think I'll have a hard time convincing my friends back home to do this...)
5) Most importantly, I can now eat fufu (or anything for that matter) with whatever utensil I feel like using!

After just less than three weeks in Ghana, I went from insulting and calling an African chief crazy, to (crazily enough) becoming one myself. I couldn't have been given this gift at a better time, as we approach Christmas, a time of giving. I have donated less than three weeks of my time here in Ghana, yet I have been given the honor of a lifelong title I will uphold and aspire to live up to. I promised everybody I would come back one day, and hope that someday all of you can see for yourselves what a difference one person named Daniel, Chief Sahanaa of Karaga can make.

Ni ti yun pali!! (Merry Christmas in Dabani)