FROM BOTTLES TO BEADS

I have been looking forward to this day.  I’ve heard people talk about it.  Seen them on the street.  Researched it on the internet.  There are just a few things that should not go un-done while I’m here in Ghana and this is definitely one of them. 

Once again, the alarm was set.  Another early rise.  The roads in Ghana are predictable; sometimes paved, but usually not – potholes are plentiful, either in the dirt or the crumbling asphalt highway.  John pulls up and security opens the gate.  We load boxes of empty bottles ready for recycling into the open hatchback.

And so we are on the road just a bit north of 7:30 a.m.  It is Saturday morning and traffic is terrible – even by Los Angeles standards.  John looks over and says, “If we get pulled over, let me do the talking.  They always pull me over.”  I must have been his lucky charm because we were hassle-free throughout the day.

Maneuvering around pot holes with bottles clanking, John gives the man in the toll booth a cedi (about $.27 cents).  Children and adults walk up to the windows of the car begging for money but mostly people are selling trinkets, candies and gum.  John maneuvers the little hatchback through Ghanaian highways and small villages.  At one point while traveling through a small village with a dirt road, I spot a completely naked man perched on a brick fence staring ahead as if he is in a trance meditation.  I want to say something, but refrain.  I think John saw him, but since there was no comment, I assume it is something he prefers left unsaid.

John looks over and says, “I have named the villages on this route.  There is the bread village.  The tomato village, the pillow village and the watermelon village are ahead.”  He explains that each village only sells one product.  He is perplexed.  So am I. 

There are literally hundreds of loaves of bread on small tables place on the dirt road.  There are more in tiny stores and on the tops of women's heads.  They don’t bake the large loaves of white bread perfectly wrapped in plastic.  They buy them from a big manufacturer who delivers them by truck to the village.  Why do they buy so much bread from the manufacturer?  There must be so much left over.  I mention that it must mold quickly and John is quick to say, “No, not with all the preservatives in it.” 

The way people attempt to make a living in Accra is similar.  Everyone is a taxi driver.  They troll the streets, looking for fares, honking incessantly, and hope they will score a fare.  Of course the competition drives the price of a fare so low, it makes me wonder if they are able to break even.

We are almost there.  We bump and clank along for about a mile on an especially terrible dirt road and come across an oasis.  We drive through the gate and see a well-manicured grounds and a calm and serene environment.  We are in the Eastern Region of Ghana, where the Krobo live.

I could have purchased glass beads anywhere on the streets of Accra, but it is so much nicer to see how they are made and hear the story.

A man comes out and helps John unload the bottles that have been clanking and making a complete nuisance along the bumpy roads.  John says, “We’d like a tour.”  

We are escorted to a demonstration table where we will learn the process of making glass beads.  But just as he begins, another man comes over and indicates he will do the demonstration.  He greets John with a huge smile and they say a few words in Twi.  His name is Nomoda Ebenizer Djaba but everyone calls him Cedi (like the money of Ghana).  John has met him on several occasions. Cedi is introduced to me as the owner of the business.  

There are several types of beads made at this quiet factory which employs about a dozen workers. 

Some beads are made from bottles and glass that is broken with pieces of granite

Some beads are painted.

Cedi demonstrated crushing glass and then sifting it to ensure it is a finely ground powder.  The powder is then made into a bead using a “sand art” technique. 

Dye is added to some of the powder and designs are created in a small glass container, rather than a mold, so that we can see the process. The beads are fired in a Kiln.  Kilns are made from the rich saliva filled termite mounds, a frequent site in Ghana.

There are a variety of molds and he carefully explains his process, one that was handed down from his father.   

But the beads are not ready yet.  They must be polished on sandstone, sorted, assembled and strung.

AND…finally, from bottle to beads

Cedi sells his beads both locally and internationally.  There are pictures of him at International Bead Conventions in Oregon, Los Angeles, New Mexico, Texas and many other places in the world. 

Beads are a cultural tradition in Africa.  Beads are worn by the Krobo People for many reasons.  It is said that waist beads help form the woman’s body.  Colors are significant.  For instance, wearing a green waist bead signifies prosperity and hope whereas yellow signifies wisdom and knowledge.  Ceremonial beads are worn when a girl celebrates passing into womanhood.  Both rich and poor wear beads.  Lots and lots of beads.