The story of the Lunga (talking drum)

One of the coolest parts of the village stay was the excursion I made on the Friday morning with my friend, Hassan. We woke at 4:30, quickly bathed and changed, and made our way to the chief's house before the sun started to rise. It's tradition that on Friday mornings the chiefs from some of the smaller, neighbouring villages come to Zoggu, where I was staying, to great the chief. They all come wearing their best robes, cloths, and other traditional wear with their entourage, and drums announce their arrival.

Even before they arrive, though, the drumming troupe in the village stands outside the chief's door to awake him, and the head drummer sings the history of all the chiefs to the village, awakening them in the process.

There is quite the variety of drums that are used, but the one that is the most important in this ritual is the Lunga, or Talking Drum. The drum (that you can see in the pictures) has two faces that are attached by rope of either goatskin or nylon. When you create slack or tension in the rope, it will make the drum face either more loose or taunt, changing the pitch of the drum. Makes sense so far? Because this is where it starts to get really cool.

Dagbani is a tonal language, and so all the words you say have a natural rise and fall to them. Also, just like in English, the words have an emphasis or stress on a part of the word. It works the same for names. So, when the chiefs from the neighbouring villages come to visit, the lead drummer will actually play their name on the drum to announce them, as well as where they're from. They can also include things like whey they are coming, who they are coming with, how long it has been since their last visit, and if time allows, the history of the chief's family. It's like a beautiful musical Morse Code that everyone knows and can respond to.

I sat and watched them for HOURS, and when they finally finished I left with only one thought: I have to have one.

The Saturday morning I was leaving, so I had to act fast. Later that day Hassan and I went to the lead drum player, and we asked him about the origin of his drum. He made it, he responds. The wood part in the middle was bought from someone in a neighbouring village, but the drum face and weaving of the ropes was all done by him. I tell him of my request, and he agrees to make me and sell me one. I can come back in two weeks and he'll have it made, as long as I get the nylon rope instead of the goat skin. I agree, it has less of a chance of becoming brittle and it will be finished WAY faster. It seemed like a really good price too.

The following Tuesday Hassan came to Savelugu for some business and came with some bad news. The person that he was buying the materials from had increased his price, and so he couldn't even buy all the things he needed with the money I gave him, never mind get paid for his offer. If I wanted to continue, the price would have to go up about 30%. I agree... this is going to be the big souviner that I bring back to Canada with me, I'm willing to pay a bit extra. Plus, how cool is it that I actually know the guy that made it for me?

I get word that the drum is ready, and I make my trek back to Zoggu on my off-balance bicycle giving me, once again, quite the ab and upper body workout to keep it steady. This time, I arrange to go on Savelugu market day, where I know there will be some vehicles travelling along the road Zoggu is on so that I can hitch a ride (with my bike) back for the uphill portion of my journey. (Hitching is very safe here, and almost expected. If someone can help someone out with a ride, they try to pick up as many people as they can. I ended up in a taxi, and my body was very, very thankful for it)

When I show up Hassan immediately asks me, "Did you bring a chicken?" Um... no? He explains to me that making drums is a family tradition, and so the man who made the drum belongs to a family that has been making drums for generations. Each time someone is his family makes a drum, they have to sacrifice a chicken to please the drum-makes that came before him. Despite that the costs associated with this drum keep going up and I'm probably just paying for this man's dinner, I agree that I don't want any angry ancestors after me and I want their blessing, so I give him enough money to buy a cock so he can sacrifice it when I'm not there. I'm quite squeamish that way.

The drum maker then informs me that his father is still alive and one of the elders in the village, and we should go and greet him. I panic -- the rule is that when you meet an elder, you should present him with kola nuts, something that I didn't bring with me on this journey. Don't worry, the man tells me, I can buy some off of him (for an inflated price.) We meet the father and he is very happy with the gift, and bestows his blessings on the drum telling me that every time I play it, I will be given luck.

We then go back to the drum-maker's house and he teaches me for a while, as well as just plays for me so I can get some video and we even danced. He asked the names of my parents and my mom's mom and my dad's dad so he could play my history they same way he had played each of the chief's history on Fridays. I was with him for about two hours when I realize that it will become dark soon, and I really need to get back to Savelugu while it is still light, especially if I don't find a ride.

It is then that Hassan (a really good friend of mine that I trust completely, I just wish he would tell me some things in advance) tells me that I should give the man a gift for teaching me to play. Whaaa? I didn't bring a gift with me. He tells me a gift of money will suffice. Seriously? More money?

So, at the end of all this with all the added costs (the cost increase, the chicken, the kola nuts, and the gift), it cost about 55% more than the original cost. It total, the drum cost a very reasonable amount in Canadian, but quite a bit in the Ghanaian currency. I just keep telling myself that I really, really love percussion and drums. It's not that hard of a sell.

The final picture in this post is me with the drum-maker and his wife. We had just finished dancing together and having a great time. So, despite the trouble and increase in costs, I'm very excited about my drum. It makes an amazing sound, and though I'll probably not learn much beyond "Malititi", "Ghana" and "Canada", I'm really excited to bring it back and play it for my Canadian friends so they can live some of the magic that is Ghana.