We touched down in Accra just five sweaty days ago and this sprawling city is beginning to feel familiar. On our ride over to the Nima Internation School today I was already recognizing streets and starting to understand how the neighborhoods connect. What I wasn’t expecting was the enchanting energy of the school kids. We had been told that there would be performances and I was expecting something along the lines of what we had prepared: a few quick, roughly rehearsed songs, but we were put to complete shame by those elementary schoolers.
Not only do they each speak English, French, Arabic, and Twi, but they were incredible singers and dancers, too. They put on an hour-long show for us filled with banging drums and remarkably in-sync dances. There were performances in Twi, French, and English. They even knew “The Cup Song!” The faculty’s energy rivaled the students as they banged on the drums and corralled excited kids. One young teacher even showed off some of his rapid fire dance moves which made the students even more energetic.
Eventually it was time for us to join in. Small hands pulled us all from our seats and down to the dance floor. Our giant group quickly turned into a dance circle. The school kids pulled us one-by-one into the center as we attempted to copy their moves. I immediately started pouring sweat, but the kids did not seem to care. The two little girls sitting on either side of me just laughed, smiled, and sweated right alongside me.
Unfortunately our performances for them were lackluster to say the least. (If you are in next year’s trip and you are reading this, PREPARE A DANCE FOR THE KIDS.) Our rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” and “You Are My Sunshine” were saved only by Mercedes’s enthusiasm and dance moves.
After the performances ended we went out into the school yard and shared hugs, cameras, and limbs with the kids. We quickly became jungle gyms as the kids climbed all over us, never wanting to be put down. Saying goodbye was hard. They were starting to eat lunch as we were leaving which brought me back to the reality of the situation. They were filling cups with dirty water from a barrel and grabbing cut fruit from a bowl covered in flies. I was reminded that their life is not just the singing and dancing that was presented to us.
After we left the school, we made the trek through the neighborhood back to our air conditioned bus. Both our walk in and out was spent weaving through gutters and garbage. Small shacks that functioned as homes and shops were packed so densely that sleeping in them in the heat seemed impossible. Cows and goats wandered freely through the streets and perched on mounds of trash that surrounded the giant gutter bisecting the neighborhood. It made me feel completely conflicted about our trip to the school.
The kids whose smiles I had been admiring had to pay to go to that school. The people in this neighborhood did not have money to spare. Their schooling is a life raft and I am not sure that my presence there was saving anyone but me. I enjoyed my time there and I think that the kids enjoyed us, but I can’t help but feel that we were taking advantage of their situation. Did we go just so that their smiles would reassure us that happiness could still be found in the most desperate of places? Was this trip just to relieve my guilt about my inaction? I am still not sure how to feel or what to do about what I witnessed. I just hope that I share my experience without further objectifying the people it affects.
