Michelle
Wallace
HUM 211, Fall 1998
A Journey Through My Glasses
As I have walked along this journey into African cultures, literature, their
history, traditions, rituals, dance, orature and films, I have found many cross-cultural
differences as well as universal elements we share. There have been many things I have
learned in this class that have forced me to almost think like an African, read like an
African, feel as an African; and yet I know that I am still seeing through filtered lenses
of my own reality and perceptions. In the following pages, I will attempt to lead you
through my eyes, still a student mind you, of what I have learned about the cultural
traditions and literatures of Africa.
One of the first contrasts I noted from African culture and my own culture, was
the importance of ancestry and heritage. In Keita: The Heritage Of The Griot, we
saw a dramatization of the Sundjata history and within this story we were shown a griot,
Djeliba Kouyate, who mysteriously shows up at a young boy's home, Mabo Keita, to tell him
of his ancestor Sundjata Keita. Within this epic story we see Mabo becoming very
interested in learning of his ancestry, while at the same time he becomes disinterested in
his school and daily studies. Conflict arises and Djeliba is resigned to leave, but not
before he has young Mabo enthralled in his story of where he came from. At one point,
Djeliba asks Mabo's schoolteacher if he knew what his name meant. When Mr. Fofano replies,
"No", Djeliba says, "Pity you don't know. What can you teach to children
without knowing your own origin?" (Course Packet, pg. 75).
This reminds me of how different I have been taught in school and raised at
home. I was adopted as a baby, therefore my genealogy is unknown, and in school we were
taught through a curriculum that was somewhat disinterested in personal history, but
rather more interested in American history as a whole. I ask myself why in my culture,
which is truly my own, have I forgotten that there are many internal, as well as external
forces, that shape me and are always constant. I suppose it is a disturbing as well as
comforting thought to know this. To thoroughly examine this part of my existence, is
impossible because of the fact that I don't have access to my ancestry. But I know there
are ways to learn about the cultures and traditions that my ancestors might have been
engaged in, and this is something that has always made me uncomfortable, until now. I give
credit to Dani Kouyate, the director of Keita for painting, through his eyes, an
important portrait of a young child's heritage while living and learning in a modern,
westernized society.
I will be straight-forward enough to say that through my perceptions, Africans
in their traditional beliefs and ethics, are very passionate about what I may consider,
supernatural, or mystical powers. For instance, as I read about the Igbo traditions in Things
Fall Apart, "Rivers, streams, lakes, and rain had life-sustaining qualities, and
symbolized purity, cleanliness, coolness, freshness, fertility, and longevity....With
water, the Igbo washed away evil and uncleanness" (xxxiv). This is interesting to me,
since personally this is believable in a spiritual way, but I may not live my life by
this. For example, in Things Fall Apart, Okonkwo was punished by Ezeani, the priest
of the earth goddess for beating his wife during the Week of Peace. Chinua Achebe has
written, "We live in peace with our fellows to honour our great goddess of the earth
without whose blessing our crops will not grow. You have committed a great evil" (Ch.
4, pg. 22). Now keep in mind that the society my culture is submersed in would not condone
the beating of ones' wife at any rate, but not because it would affect the whole community
and our economic standing, but because it is not acceptable morally.
Another example we are given of spiritual characters through Achebe's eyes,
would be the obanje, which is depicted as "one of those wicked children who,
when they died, entered their mother's wombs to be born again" (Ch. 9, pg. 55). The obanje
was characterized through Ezinma, the child of Ekwefi, Okonwko's second wife. Enzinma was
supposed to have been delivered from her evil ways reinforcing that she would not again
die, because she had dug up her iyi-uwa, "a special stone that forms the link
between an ogbanje and the spirit world. The child would eventually die if the
iyi-uwa were not discovered and destroyed." (Glossary, liii).
This part of the story was very interesting for me to imagine being the mother
of an ogbanje or even one myself, and how fun it almost would be to be submerged
within a cultural society that believed in such forces of a spiritual world? I would even
go so far to say that Igbo traditions that center around these superstitious, supernatural
powers are enticing to me, since the reality I live in is constantly questioning its
limitations and own powers. Already, I am one of those people who are very superstitious
on a daily basis, such as not purposely killing a bug for fear of being visited by them
after they are reincarnated as a virus that may attack my body. I know, this sounds
far-fetched and crazy, yes, but not much different than that of an Igbo villager who is
running around screaming in frantic frenzy, because some man dressed up in a scary mask is
chasing them. Maybe that is not an equal comparison of superstitions among cultures, but
they still remain. So as a whole, this passion for a supernatural power is universal in my
personal culture as well as in an African culture. For some reason, the unknown is easier
to believe and have faith in, than what is the obvious and known.
The last element of difference and comparative which was significant to me and
that I would like to address, would be an Africans way of expressing themselves. Keep in
mind that I am addressing "Africans", only by which the cultures I have studied
so far, with the help of Achebe, Kouyate, and Grace Nichols. The most wonderful part of
African culture that I have seen is their way of sharing stories through dance, drums,
song, and poetry. In I Is a Long-Memoried Woman, I was enthralled with the way a
story was being told through rhythm and dance, motion and poetry. It was beautiful to see,
and moving to hear. Throughout this dramatization based upon Grace Nichols poetry, I was
learning about the history, suffering, pride, tradition, pain, joy of being an African
woman and her long journey from her true culture, to oppression, and later to what seemed
empowerment. The story was subtly told through movement and some words, but mainly it was
a visual quest that entertained my senses.
I must say that halfway within this journey through African cultures and
literatures, I find myself liking the African culture more than my own. They have no fear
of movement and song. It is integrated within their culture, through everyday rituals and
tasks. "Sound is everywhere noticed, admired, shaped-e.g., postal workers in Ghana
cancel stamps in deliberate rhythm." (Course Packet, pg. 62) Africans oral traditions
are intriguing to me and I can’t help but admire and envy their ability to free their
souls through expression. I am caught within my society, to act in an orderly fashion, and
unfortunately if I acted upon impulse to break out into a crazy rhythm of free-flowing
dance, I would probably be given some strange looks, of course depending on where I was.
There have been many boundaries I have had to overcome while learning about the
traditions, beliefs, heritage, and cultures of Africa. These cross-cultural challenges
have helped instill in me my own belief in valuing what is important to other people, even
if I could not quite imagine it myself. Most of all these challenges have helped give me a
sense of universal identity. When I say this, I mean that through learning about Africa,
even though there were many obvious differences that I noted, there were many universal
elements as well, such as superstition and knowledge about heritage. My sojourn through
this other fascinating culture has left me feeling a little closer to the unknown, and at
times I was glad to take off the filtered glasses, even if for a little while.
© 1998, Michelle Wallace
