By the time they reached the village of Dagbamate in the Volta region of eastern Ghana members of the Bermuda African Dance Company were too tired to worry about how they would survive the next four weeks without the luxuries we all take for granted.

After 24 hours of solid travelling from Bermuda to their destination via London and Accra, the ten children and four adults would first rest and then accept whatever came their way.

Little did they realise that, when it came time to leave, it would be with tears and regret -- and that, for them, was the insidious wonder of Africa, the land whose culture they study and endeavour to assimilate.

Certainly, there was much for the Bermudians to learn and experience. While it was the third visit to Dagbamate for Dawn Broadbelt, who founded the dance company in the 1980s, and her husband Ivan, it was a first for the others.

The group's inspiration came from Frederick Kawasi Dunyo, lecturer on world music at the University of Toronto's faculty of music. The African Dance Company first met him when he was brought here to conduct workshops in traditional African drumming, dancing, chanting and folklore, and when the Bermudians learned that he also took groups to his home village of Dagbamate each year for similar lessons, they were eager to join in.

"Last year we formed the West African Cultural Exchange Committee, and now everybody who goes to Ghana with Kwasi Dunyo will go under that banner,'' Mrs.

Broadbelt explains.

While there are no luxuries as westerners know them, visitors to Dagbamate are accommodated in a purpose-built guest house which has ten double bedrooms, a kitchen with refrigerator, living-dining room, showers, toilets, and an office.

"It is quite self-contained as far as comfort goes, and they use real dishes,'' Mrs. Broadbelt says.

Beyond the guest house, however, life is inevitably much simpler. While some villagers live in mud huts, building block is becoming more prevalent, and depending on a family's affluence, the roofs will either be of thatch, corrugated tin or tile.

Water is readily available from two bore holes, a catchment facility, manual stand pipes, and tap powered by a pump.

The Bermudians quickly learned that village life is not only ordered, but begins before daybreak to the sound of drums, and the call of a species of bird which seems to say "agree to disagree.'' "The villagers say that when they have disputes and discuss them, they take the birds' advice,'' Mr. Tuzo quips.

The Africans' first daily task is sweeping the village clean. Cooking is done almost exclusively by the women, who make their own charcoal, and use iron stoves and metal pots.

Goats and chickens are slaughtered daily, and while the Bermudians found the food different and spicy, they were impressed with the freshness of the ingredients.

"Cooking is an all-day process because everything is fresh,'' Mrs. Tuzo explains. "The women make their own palm oil, tomato paste and sauce.'' Wooden paddles of all sizes allow everyone from the smallest child to make the corn or cassava-based dough for akple m and other typical dishes.

On market days in a nearby town, the stalls are filled with fresh produce brought in by the farmers, most of whom are women. Everything is washed clean and beautifully displayed in hand-made baskets. In this and similar markets the women also set up the stalls and handle the finances.

Honesty is a way of life, as the Bermudians discovered when one of them left a camera behind in a public hall and returned later to find it untouched.

Because news travels fast in the small community, knowing that they will be summoned before the village elders to explain unusual behaviour keeps the villagers on their toes.

In fact, the villagers' strong sense of belonging and open communication in everything from worship to resolving problems, socialising, and even grieving deeply impressed the visitors.

Respect is universal and assiduously practiced.

"You could see how each generation looked up to the older age groups, even the smallest children. The levels of respect between all generations was one of the things we wanted our young people to see,'' Mrs. Broadbelt says.

The village shrine is an important focal point, where people from miles around gather. On Sunday mornings there is community confession followed by dancing and drumming. One Sunday the Bermudians witnessed the blessing of all the babies.

Just like westerners, the villagers are fashion-conscious, and wear specific colours for specific events, even funerals. On special occasions, like going to the shrine and saying goodbye to the Bermudians, they dress in their finest.

Here, as elsewhere, western influences are creeping in, so while some women go bare-breasted, they also love make-up, nail polish and processed hair. Exotic braiding is a specialty, and wraps -- long lengths of exotically printed cloth -- are expertly tied by men, women and children alike. It is one of many traditional skills the Bermudians learned.

T-shirts from the west are a major status symbol, and flip-flops are extremely popular.

Bermudians enjoy the African beat "They're No. 1 in Africa. They call them `Charlie watties,' which means `Charlie, let's go','' Mrs. Broadbelt relates. Orthodontic braces, spectacles and dreadlocks, all of which were present in the Bermuda contingent, proved a source of endless curiosity to the villagers.

As expected, the Bermuda African Dance Company was fascinated by everything it saw and experienced, but it was the language of the drums and the dancing which were the real revelations.

"We learned that dancing and drumming is a system, you don't separate it,'' Mrs. Broadbelt explains. "Drumming, dancing and singing are all inclusive, so everyone dances everything, and that was a big thing for us to learn. There are definite ways of performing and playing the instruments. Everything is `call and response.' Each drum has a different part to play, and if someone is missing you can't do your piece together.

"Basically, entertainment is a community activity in which everyone, from the youngest to the eldest, participates.'' In a village where the nearest phone is miles away and requires operator assistance "the drum is an instrument of social living: summons, communication, dance'', Mr. Swan explains. "They show you how to drum, and they encourage you to participate. Their motto is, `Everybody is the system, and the system is everybody' -- meaning that they are all mutually dependent upon one another to perform together.'' Mr. Swan, who began as a dancer with the African Dance Company and is now studying the African diaspora at Howard University, says his interest in drumming "stems from reading our history and realising that I am African. It is a very important part of our culture''.

For 16-year-old Michale Bean, drumming proved a real challenge.

"You have to have rhythm. It looks easy, but it is very hard and energetic,'' he admits. The Bermudians also had difficulty mastering the kinka, a traditional dance which all villagers do.

"It looks very simple, but we couldn't get the rhythm,'' Mrs. Broadbelt admits. "Even though we have been dancing so long it beats us all the time.

We tried to pick up the dancing and drumming from the little children.'' The kinka and drumming are synonymous with funerals, which are more of a celebration than a dirge, and when asked to join in the dancing one must accept.

Looking back on their trip, the Bermudians agree it was an interesting and worthwhile learning experience, and they loved the overwhelming sense of love and unity which permeated village life.

"I felt more at home there,'' Hadyyah Tweed admits. "I was nervous about going, but after staying for a long time I didn't want to leave.'' Miss Bean had similar feelings.

"I didn't want to go to Africa because they didn't have things like us, and I wondered what I would do to entertain myself, but I got used to it and when I left I was crying because I didn't want to leave.'' "I would most definitely like to go again,'' Jade Bean agrees. "I liked the powerful community spirit. The love for each other is amazing. I loved that.'' For Jamesha Van-Lowe the lesson she learned was "to value things much more.

We throw stuff away so easily, whereas they make use of what they have. I plan to go back''.

Mr. Swan admired the villagers "organisation, discipline and community. To me `comforts' are no fear of being killed''.

If members of the Bermuda African Dance Company have fond memories of Dagbamate, the villagers won't quickly forget them either. The visitors presented writing materials to the school, sports equipment and football jerseys, marbles and skipping ropes to the village, and books for the future village library, as well as a Bermuda flag to fly over it -- all thanks to various local donors and sponsors.

"We also sponsored five students to go to school, and we have opened a branch of the Dasi Adzena Dunyo Memorial Foundation in Bermuda so that we can help all village children to get a basic education up to secondary level,'' Mrs.

Broadbelt explains.

Named in memory of Kwasi Dunyo's mother, the non-profit Foundation raises funds to educate children in Dagbamate whose families cannot afford to pay school fees. $500 educates a child for five years. Donations may be sent to the Foundation in care of the Bermuda African Dance Company, P.O. Box WK 394, Warwick WK 01. The Foundation's internet web site is: www.adzena.org Through the trees: Bermudian Theresa Millett makes her way along a Ghanaian nature trail on a bamboo and rope bridge suspended high above the ground. Just one person wide, the bridge, while safe, is not for the faint-hearted.