On Location

I always make it a point to sit in the spot where my eyes have the broadest view and myself inconspicuous, when I am out. That way I miss almost nothing, even when I seem not to be looking!   

So it was that I was sitting at one of my favourite places, about to enjoy one of my favourite meals and savouring the pleasures of a mildly sunny early weekend afternoon and engaging in some aimless chit chat. As usual I sat upstairs, just by the balustrade so I could cast my eyes about the street, car park and watch other diners come in or leave the restaurant. It was early afternoon on a Sunday so all was calm and the only sounds were the low tempo music from the bar, the muffled voices of diners and occasional sounds from vehicles or passersby on the street.

Suddenly a sharp female voice pierced through the peaceful atmosphere, from somewhere below and across the street; “aani ashiwo-e-e, a-shiw, o-o-oh a-shiw ...” Another female voice joined in the chant and my eyes quickly darted towards the voices and started roaming the environs frantically to locate the scene of what I thought was to be a definitely promising brawl on a saintly Sunday in this usually quiet and sufficiently classy neighbourhood. I knew the Twi expression well enough. It is used frequently in mockery of an adversary in a quarrel and most closely translates; “yes you've been burnt, you've been burnt well and good ...” Similar to, “you got served, tee hee!”

So naturally my ears immediately cocked up, eyes widened and a smile begun to spread across my face in anticipation of a flow of choice invectives I would myself never let fall from my lips. My hands blindly searched my bag for my camera. Free entertainment was about to unravel before my very eyes

From my vantage position, I saw the two women. They were not at each other’s throats thankfully; rather they were ganged up against an older male in traditional cloth who was doing his best, though to little effect, to return the verbal assaults. The women who were sitting under a small palm tree rose to full height as the exchanges heated up and started shoving the man between them with their hands and large backsides and pushing their heavy chests in his face. “fa bo me, fa bo me, a-a-ah” i.e “ hit me with it, hit me with it...”, they said in between other things.

In a twinkle, one of the women, the one I recognized from numerous televised local dramas tossed the contents of a drinking glass in the man’s face. They continued the taunt; “e-eh a-shiw, fri ha ko”. The man wisely started backing off while still wagging his fingers at the women, muttering some feeble threats and promising a comeback. The women laughed, stuck their tongues at the man, gave themselves a fives up and settled back in their seats to continue their business before the rude interruption; small talk over drinks, from the look of things.  

I went back to my food but before I could make 3 trips to my mouth I heard the same voices repeating the same taunt; “ashiwo e-e, a-shiw, o-o-oh a-shiw ...” It was then that I saw the shotgun microphone hovering above the women.

3 more takes of this and the company of 3 were soon seen happily trading banter, laughing and patting each other on the back. It seems this scene was done and dusted and I was only beginning to get into my food.

The setting was a compound that seems to have been a popular local bar which had seen much better days. No bigger than the size of a basket ball court; it was bordered with a string of 3 or 4 containers, a gate, and a wall some 20meters long. The wall had recently been painted with cheap orange and white paint, while the containers were dressed in black and white paint. In this space were some seats gathered together in the centre on a platform which must have been the bandstand. On the seats, some persons slept or chatted away, surprisingly unconcerned with the activity around them. The little performer was pacing about and once every while, she sat down, picked up her mirror and powdered her face; probably awaiting her act.

The two women who recently dispatched a certain wretched elderly man were soon helping themselves with food from a food warmer in one corner of the compound.
The camera man had moved on to the next scene in which the disagreeable elderly man who just got drenched in some “spirits” was animatedly engaged. The location for this scene was the front of the container shops, barely six steps away from the earlier location.

Interesting, I thought. I never imagined the filming of a drama, call it movie could happen just next door, all in one compound. Local ingenuity at play, someone remarked.

 

Well, whatever the outcome of this one, I do hope to catch my scene one more time on TV. I sure prefer these to the South American tele-novella and LAFA ridden TV series on our screens.