Thanksgiving and Fire Festival

Thankful for Suf
Ambassador Donald Tietelbaum invited the Peace Corps Volunteers to his house for Thanksgiving. He did this last year too and it was a good time, so I was excited to go. It’s always nice to re-connect with people you haven’t seen in a while. It’s also always good to eat turkey and mashed potatoes.
I took an early bus from Tamale to Accra. I was sitting at the station, patiently waiting for the bus to load, when I heard someone say “Kim?”
I looked up to see a man staring at me intently. He looked very familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Then he started greeting me in Dagboni, and I suddenly realized that it was Suf. Suf was my language trainer. I haven’t seen him since training ended more than a year ago. We chatted for a while, and I asked him if he would like some bofrut, because I was getting hungry. He said yes, and I wandered off to get bofrut. I started talking to the woman who was selling the bofrut in Dagboni. She asked my name. I told her, and she didn’t understand, because I still can’t pronounce my Dagboni name. She got it after a few attempts, and I went back to sit down by Suf.
I sighed and complained that I couldn’t pronounce my Dagboni name, and he asked what it was. “Patience,” I said.
He started breaking it down syllable by syllable, and I wasn’t getting it. “I’m pretty sure this is a lost cause, Suf” I said.
“They shouldn’t have given you a name you can’t pronounce,” he said as we boarded the bus.
I didn’t notice it at first, but a few weeks later I was on one of my evening walks and someone asked my name. I told her, and she understood the first time. Then I realized that this had happened a few times. Actually, it’s happened every time since- I can finally actually pronounce my own (Dagboni) name! I’m thankful to Suf for taking the time to show me how.

Fire Festival
“You need to learn how to prepare our food,” Achiri told me on the day of Fire Festival. We caught two of my chickens and slaughtered them. I did most of the work on one of them myself, which made me proud. We made a broth with the chicken, adobo seasoning, and salt. Achiri made a face at my salt shaker, so I removed the top, and he added a good inch or so out of the bottle. When the chicken was cooked, we removed it and added a package of dried ochra and let it simmer. He went and got fufu from his house, and I ate.
I changed into some trousers and my running shoes and went to Achiri’s house. Some men there talked to me about Fire Festival. One man said that it started because someone’s boy was lost at night, and they needed fire to be able to find him. I’ve also heard people say it was to cleanse the land. I think it depends who you ask.
The festival starts at the chief’s house. Achiri and I were there pretty early, and there were about 20 other adults there. There were also about 300 kids with painted faces carrying torches, which were unlit so far.
The kids were fighting. Achiri pointed his flashlight on a particularly violent kid. “Hey, you! You!” he said in Dagbani, stopping the fight. I tried to imagine a group of 300 painted children with torches that would soon be lit and only 20 adults for supervision marching through Salt Lake and laughed out loud. Marching is the wrong word, but I don’t know the right one. Scampering, maybe?
The chief finally came out, and the linguist lit the chief’s torch. Everyone else lit their torches from the chief’s torch. By now, there were many more adults and several drummers. Everyone started dancing with their torches, fanning out into the bush. At the end, everyone throws their torches into a tree, so it looks like a giant column of flame. Then people take some branches and move to various houses.
A concoction is made with the tree branches and water, which is thrown over the participants. It is supposed to make you invincible. It’s warm and it feels really good when you get a chest full of it.
Then everyone dances, carrying tree branches and cutlasses. It’s hard to see because there’s a lot of dust in the air. It’s hard to hear because of the drumming and the guns going off in the background. We headed back to my house and realized that another village (my village is really 3 villages smashed together) was still going, so we joined in similar festivities there.
Afterwards, I went home and ate a leftover piece of chicken and took a bucket bath to rinse off all the dust. I was told that the women will collect the branches used in the dancing and prepare bath water for their children. It is supposed to protect the children.
The next day, people go around and greet their fathers, uncles, and grandparents. The relatives are supposed to give the children meat, and sometimes chickens. I am still waiting on a chicken from my family.
Achiri and I went to greet the chiefs, and I got to eat kola nut (I can’t seem to get away from it). A man with a silver beard said that I was his grandmother and that I should give him a hen. Achiri and I laughed. Later we went to market.