I took all the photos that day, and now I'm officially quoted on the interet saying 'shrek-esque.' I miss it more than I have any right to.
http://www.villageexchangeinternational.org/Development%20Files/News/3rd%20Open%20Day.html
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Home, as in Durham
I'm back. I've been back for a couple of weeks. I need to write something up about Kumasi. I need to write something up about some of the VEG-related projects I'm still working on. Soon, I hope. For now I just miss Ho and I'm trying to figure out what this all means.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Photographic Evidence: Ghanaian Children
Julia and I went all over Ghana this weekend. The trip ended up taking four days though we only planned for three, but it was the most satisfying of our journeys and a fitting last outing for the two of us as a team. I'll post more detail but for now I'd just like to post what I'm calling...
Photographic proof that African children are, in fact, more adorable than all other children of the world. It's a sad fact, but a fact none the less. Taken in the village of Abono right by Lake Bosumtwe in the Ashanti Region while we waited for a taxi. We drew a crowd of thirteen bright sunny children. It was intensely cute even after they started bugging us for toffee and money.
I swear I have an amazing tan, these kiddos just make me look frosty white.
Photographic proof that African children are, in fact, more adorable than all other children of the world. It's a sad fact, but a fact none the less. Taken in the village of Abono right by Lake Bosumtwe in the Ashanti Region while we waited for a taxi. We drew a crowd of thirteen bright sunny children. It was intensely cute even after they started bugging us for toffee and money.
I swear I have an amazing tan, these kiddos just make me look frosty white.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
How I Met Sergeant Jacob or Travels, Cape Coast
Frankly, I'm getting a bit fatigued with documenting my run-ins with the police and explaining them via email, etc. So I apologize in advance, this might be a bit short...or it might not.
The charming thing about living in Ho is that they're just beginning to develop their tourist attractions. Volta Region, in general, is a haven for eco-tourism sites, but it's just beginning to draw more than a cluster of hippy backpackers from around the world. As a result, yevus are still a silly novelty. We're cute, priceless and a bit charming.
Then there's Cape Coast and other areas. Quick history... Cape Coast is the home of two of the largest slave trading castles in Ghana and Ghana was the home of the majority of the exportation of slaves. Literally, millions of slaves were deported from the castle in Cape Coast to the Americas. Hundreds of thousands of them died within the castle before making it to the ships and who knows how many died during the journey and beyond. Because of this historical importance Cape Coast and Elmina (home of the second castle very nearby) have been slammed with white tourists for far longer than little Ho. Being a yevu woman in Cape Coast is something completely different than being the same in Ho.
I know this going into Cape Coast. I know I should be careful. I know that I shouldn't do anything like... walk down to the castle at night with no protection but a heavy duty flashlight and two other female tourists. But somehow when traveling in a group you end up with the problem of the secret majority. None of us felt safe striking out on our own after dark to find food and beer in a strange town, but none of us said it because nobody else mentioned it and so we went. Come on, I've lived in Ho for more than a month and never had the slightest problem with traveling in a group at night. I know what I'm doing. We all do.
So we talk to the castle. It's gorgeous and overwhelming approaching it at night. You can't help but think of how many people have seen this castle and how they felt when they did so. The absolute terror of being taking here against your will. It's directly on the coast so I'm also getting my first glimpse of the ocean from Africa. It looks like any other ocean, but more dangerous. The currents here tougher, nobody swims in the ocean like they do in Florida, and you can see why. We finally hit a well lit area and I put away Marta's heavy-duty self-defense flashlight and we laugh about my even having it out in the first place.
Five minutes later we're walking past Oasis Hotel and there's distinct footfall. Fast footfall, because they're running. Two men come out of nowhere and grab my purse. I pull it to my chest and it stays there. The fellow the grabbed for it was running so fast that he speeds past me empty handed but he stops and turns around. Then we're looking at each other for at least 7 seconds but it seems longer as these things always do. We have something in common right then, we're both horrified and wondering what happens next. I'm thinking about getting the flashlight out, but not wanting to open my purse. I'm so used to Ghanaians poking fun at me that I'm actually waiting for him to laugh. He's wondering if he has time to try again. I'm wondering if he has a knife. He rushes again and gets a better hold of me and this time manages to tear the straps on my purse. I watch the straps fall on the ground while the rest of the purse runs off with the two men towards to beach. Then I scream, because that's what you're supposed to do. That's when I realize how fast everything has just happened. Marta and Julia don't actually understand what's gone on. They think I've been stabbed or something! Poor girls.
The police station is close by and we wander down there with the help of a young boy. There's a female police officer on duty sitting outside with another woman and I'm silently relieved because the women in Ghana are far easier to deal with than the men. But alas, when we tell her what's happened she actually laughs. Stupid tourists, what were you doing out after dark, hm? This isn't your country, you have to be careful, you're in Africa now.
She doesn't want to file a report or make any notes, but Marta convinces her otherwise so she takes some notes on a scrap of paper that I'm sure was thrown away. They make jokes the entire time, pointing to a man standing in the station, "Was this him? Could you even tell? Don't we all look the same to you? Maybe he stole your purse." More laughter. The door the the holding cell is made of only bars and you can see right in. It's packed. People are sick. People are drunk. They're calling for the white woman. I'm exhausted. The female officer tells us to come back in the morning and visit Sergeant Jacob to file a report and we leave.
Back at the hotel we get shitfaced, stay up far too late and make too much noise. It was essentially amazing and what everybody needed. I'll always remember that as one of the better nights I've had in Ghana.
Visiting Sergeant Jacob goes as expected. He sits me down for my report and I have to rewrite everything I gave last night because the woman didn't keep the paper. He's laughing at us and so is everybody else in the office. More talking about this not being my country and me being a moron. What makes it worse is that I can't disagree. I just want to file the report, I'm not claiming that I wasn't a moron but they aren't hearing that point. They've been confronted by so many moron tourists over the years and we've formed into one unchanging person. Jacob tells me there's nothing to be done. Tells me he doesn't actually believe it happened because I have no witnesses. I point to Marta and Julia but he snickers and tells me they don't count because we're all the same color. He needs a Cape Coast witness to legetimize my claim and I didn't think to bring one. He also doubts that I even had a camera and cellphone in the purse because I'm not carrying a receipt for them. Apparently I've come all the way to Cape Coast to file a faulty claim for about $400. Does he have any fucking idea of how much money I spent to get here?
He lectures me for about 30 minutes on being a tourist in Africa and then finishes his report. I ask for a copy to give to my insurance but he refuses to give me any written confirmation because he doesn't believe I was really robbed and somehow things that if he gives me proof that I visited him he'll be implying that he believes my story. Marta asks and restates the need for a non-partial report about thirty times but we just receive the same, "That's not how we do it here." speech in about thirty variations. The meeting deteriorates and we leave.
After we met with Jacob we walked over to the castle and took the $7 guided tour. You're lead through dungeons where hundreds of thousands of men died. You're lead into the killing chamber which was designed to cut off the air supply for its inhabitants. The people that died there suffered so much that there are indentions in the walls and floors from fingers: clawing, screaming, hurting so much that you can literally make a mark on stone with your bare hands. We stood inside of it paralyzed. I've never shaken so much, it was almost a vibration. We walked through the door of no return that leads out to the beach and, in the past, the awaiting ships. We were shown a lookout area above the tunnel leading from the dungeons to the beach where the British sat and sniped sick people on their way to deportation. All for the better really, if you were sick and made it all the way to the ship and somebody noticed you're illness they'd throw you overboard while still alive.
The whole time that I was walking through the castles I'm thinking of all of the people that have died there. These walls were the last sight for so many. Did they have any inclination of what would happen next? That within a century the very decedents of their captors would be walking these empty halls crying? Their decendents would be returning from abroad to walk the same halls? The disapora. Does it make anything better? Sure, I'm crying, Julia's crying but then there's the guy from Texas with us that's complaining of the heat the entire time and leaves early to hit an air-conditioned bar.
And that was my Halloween.
Last weekend I took a break from traveling, but this weekend I'm traveling to Kumasi with Julia. I'll try to scoop some pictures of Cape Coast and Kumasi from Julia as my camera was in my purse when it ran down to the beach.
Be home in two weeks.
The charming thing about living in Ho is that they're just beginning to develop their tourist attractions. Volta Region, in general, is a haven for eco-tourism sites, but it's just beginning to draw more than a cluster of hippy backpackers from around the world. As a result, yevus are still a silly novelty. We're cute, priceless and a bit charming.
Then there's Cape Coast and other areas. Quick history... Cape Coast is the home of two of the largest slave trading castles in Ghana and Ghana was the home of the majority of the exportation of slaves. Literally, millions of slaves were deported from the castle in Cape Coast to the Americas. Hundreds of thousands of them died within the castle before making it to the ships and who knows how many died during the journey and beyond. Because of this historical importance Cape Coast and Elmina (home of the second castle very nearby) have been slammed with white tourists for far longer than little Ho. Being a yevu woman in Cape Coast is something completely different than being the same in Ho.
I know this going into Cape Coast. I know I should be careful. I know that I shouldn't do anything like... walk down to the castle at night with no protection but a heavy duty flashlight and two other female tourists. But somehow when traveling in a group you end up with the problem of the secret majority. None of us felt safe striking out on our own after dark to find food and beer in a strange town, but none of us said it because nobody else mentioned it and so we went. Come on, I've lived in Ho for more than a month and never had the slightest problem with traveling in a group at night. I know what I'm doing. We all do.
So we talk to the castle. It's gorgeous and overwhelming approaching it at night. You can't help but think of how many people have seen this castle and how they felt when they did so. The absolute terror of being taking here against your will. It's directly on the coast so I'm also getting my first glimpse of the ocean from Africa. It looks like any other ocean, but more dangerous. The currents here tougher, nobody swims in the ocean like they do in Florida, and you can see why. We finally hit a well lit area and I put away Marta's heavy-duty self-defense flashlight and we laugh about my even having it out in the first place.
Five minutes later we're walking past Oasis Hotel and there's distinct footfall. Fast footfall, because they're running. Two men come out of nowhere and grab my purse. I pull it to my chest and it stays there. The fellow the grabbed for it was running so fast that he speeds past me empty handed but he stops and turns around. Then we're looking at each other for at least 7 seconds but it seems longer as these things always do. We have something in common right then, we're both horrified and wondering what happens next. I'm thinking about getting the flashlight out, but not wanting to open my purse. I'm so used to Ghanaians poking fun at me that I'm actually waiting for him to laugh. He's wondering if he has time to try again. I'm wondering if he has a knife. He rushes again and gets a better hold of me and this time manages to tear the straps on my purse. I watch the straps fall on the ground while the rest of the purse runs off with the two men towards to beach. Then I scream, because that's what you're supposed to do. That's when I realize how fast everything has just happened. Marta and Julia don't actually understand what's gone on. They think I've been stabbed or something! Poor girls.
The police station is close by and we wander down there with the help of a young boy. There's a female police officer on duty sitting outside with another woman and I'm silently relieved because the women in Ghana are far easier to deal with than the men. But alas, when we tell her what's happened she actually laughs. Stupid tourists, what were you doing out after dark, hm? This isn't your country, you have to be careful, you're in Africa now.
She doesn't want to file a report or make any notes, but Marta convinces her otherwise so she takes some notes on a scrap of paper that I'm sure was thrown away. They make jokes the entire time, pointing to a man standing in the station, "Was this him? Could you even tell? Don't we all look the same to you? Maybe he stole your purse." More laughter. The door the the holding cell is made of only bars and you can see right in. It's packed. People are sick. People are drunk. They're calling for the white woman. I'm exhausted. The female officer tells us to come back in the morning and visit Sergeant Jacob to file a report and we leave.
Back at the hotel we get shitfaced, stay up far too late and make too much noise. It was essentially amazing and what everybody needed. I'll always remember that as one of the better nights I've had in Ghana.
Visiting Sergeant Jacob goes as expected. He sits me down for my report and I have to rewrite everything I gave last night because the woman didn't keep the paper. He's laughing at us and so is everybody else in the office. More talking about this not being my country and me being a moron. What makes it worse is that I can't disagree. I just want to file the report, I'm not claiming that I wasn't a moron but they aren't hearing that point. They've been confronted by so many moron tourists over the years and we've formed into one unchanging person. Jacob tells me there's nothing to be done. Tells me he doesn't actually believe it happened because I have no witnesses. I point to Marta and Julia but he snickers and tells me they don't count because we're all the same color. He needs a Cape Coast witness to legetimize my claim and I didn't think to bring one. He also doubts that I even had a camera and cellphone in the purse because I'm not carrying a receipt for them. Apparently I've come all the way to Cape Coast to file a faulty claim for about $400. Does he have any fucking idea of how much money I spent to get here?
He lectures me for about 30 minutes on being a tourist in Africa and then finishes his report. I ask for a copy to give to my insurance but he refuses to give me any written confirmation because he doesn't believe I was really robbed and somehow things that if he gives me proof that I visited him he'll be implying that he believes my story. Marta asks and restates the need for a non-partial report about thirty times but we just receive the same, "That's not how we do it here." speech in about thirty variations. The meeting deteriorates and we leave.
After we met with Jacob we walked over to the castle and took the $7 guided tour. You're lead through dungeons where hundreds of thousands of men died. You're lead into the killing chamber which was designed to cut off the air supply for its inhabitants. The people that died there suffered so much that there are indentions in the walls and floors from fingers: clawing, screaming, hurting so much that you can literally make a mark on stone with your bare hands. We stood inside of it paralyzed. I've never shaken so much, it was almost a vibration. We walked through the door of no return that leads out to the beach and, in the past, the awaiting ships. We were shown a lookout area above the tunnel leading from the dungeons to the beach where the British sat and sniped sick people on their way to deportation. All for the better really, if you were sick and made it all the way to the ship and somebody noticed you're illness they'd throw you overboard while still alive.
The whole time that I was walking through the castles I'm thinking of all of the people that have died there. These walls were the last sight for so many. Did they have any inclination of what would happen next? That within a century the very decedents of their captors would be walking these empty halls crying? Their decendents would be returning from abroad to walk the same halls? The disapora. Does it make anything better? Sure, I'm crying, Julia's crying but then there's the guy from Texas with us that's complaining of the heat the entire time and leaves early to hit an air-conditioned bar.
And that was my Halloween.
Last weekend I took a break from traveling, but this weekend I'm traveling to Kumasi with Julia. I'll try to scoop some pictures of Cape Coast and Kumasi from Julia as my camera was in my purse when it ran down to the beach.
Be home in two weeks.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Intermission
I've decided now would be a good time to take a break from my adventures of late October and tell a story about the good side of Ghana. I came to this realization after talking to a friend back home for a few minutes and quickly realizing that she'd somehow come to the conclusion that I am totally fed up after all of the mishaps. But, honestly, I'm not at all. Not much has really happened that's of negative note. I've learned a good deal through making some typical first-time-in-Africa mistakes, but otherwise this is the life.
That being said, here's a positive story conveyed to me via some fellow yevu colleagues at VEG. It represents the best part of Ghana: the people. The continuous laughter, smiling and mostly friendly bickering and insults and the hospitality and almost frightening dedication to being helpful.
These two friends of mine have been in Ghana for just over a year and have spent many weekends traveling to different regions of Ghana and countries in West Africa. On one of these trips the ended up being continuously delayed in transit and the trip took hours more than predicted. When they reached their destination they were turned away from every hotel in town because they were booked up for the night. It was already dark and they were in a strange town looking pale and carrying backpacks... this is equivalent to shouting, "Please, come rob me. I have all these valuables I want to get rid of!"
After getting turned away from another hotel and starting to feel desperate they're greeted by a young man, probably about 18 years old. He offers to help and they tell him it's not necessary because it's been a long day and you never know what somebody really means when they offer you help in a foreign country. But, he's persistent and they're exhausted so they cave. By this time it's raining and he tells them to wait it out in the lobby and that he'll go try and find them a place on his bicycle. He heads out in the rain and actually returns 30 minutes later. He's checked all the hotels and they are all booked.
He offers them a place to stay at his place and because there are no other viable options they accept. Then he piles their belongings onto his bicycle and pushes it back to his place with them trailing behind. It's his first place and consists of one or two bug littered rooms and communal showers, etc. To make it more accommodating he actually leaves and goes to stay with his mother leaving these two complete strangers, alone, in his house.
This is an extreme example, but in general the people of the Volta Region in my experience will drop almost anything to escort you places, give detailed directions or answer any question you can imagine. Get lost in the rain and run under the awning of a nearby house for shelter? It's likely that the inhabitants will invite you in and cook you a meal. Waiting for a taxi that just doesn't seem to be coming? Somebody in a private vehicle will inevitably stop and offer you a ride. Sitting on the tro-tro near somebody that's eating and they'll share. I'm continuously surprised by how above and beyond people here will go to be helpful. At least in Ho...
That being said, here's a positive story conveyed to me via some fellow yevu colleagues at VEG. It represents the best part of Ghana: the people. The continuous laughter, smiling and mostly friendly bickering and insults and the hospitality and almost frightening dedication to being helpful.
These two friends of mine have been in Ghana for just over a year and have spent many weekends traveling to different regions of Ghana and countries in West Africa. On one of these trips the ended up being continuously delayed in transit and the trip took hours more than predicted. When they reached their destination they were turned away from every hotel in town because they were booked up for the night. It was already dark and they were in a strange town looking pale and carrying backpacks... this is equivalent to shouting, "Please, come rob me. I have all these valuables I want to get rid of!"
After getting turned away from another hotel and starting to feel desperate they're greeted by a young man, probably about 18 years old. He offers to help and they tell him it's not necessary because it's been a long day and you never know what somebody really means when they offer you help in a foreign country. But, he's persistent and they're exhausted so they cave. By this time it's raining and he tells them to wait it out in the lobby and that he'll go try and find them a place on his bicycle. He heads out in the rain and actually returns 30 minutes later. He's checked all the hotels and they are all booked.
He offers them a place to stay at his place and because there are no other viable options they accept. Then he piles their belongings onto his bicycle and pushes it back to his place with them trailing behind. It's his first place and consists of one or two bug littered rooms and communal showers, etc. To make it more accommodating he actually leaves and goes to stay with his mother leaving these two complete strangers, alone, in his house.
This is an extreme example, but in general the people of the Volta Region in my experience will drop almost anything to escort you places, give detailed directions or answer any question you can imagine. Get lost in the rain and run under the awning of a nearby house for shelter? It's likely that the inhabitants will invite you in and cook you a meal. Waiting for a taxi that just doesn't seem to be coming? Somebody in a private vehicle will inevitably stop and offer you a ride. Sitting on the tro-tro near somebody that's eating and they'll share. I'm continuously surprised by how above and beyond people here will go to be helpful. At least in Ho...
Thursday, November 6, 2008
How I Met the Ho Municipality Police Chief
Continued from "Negative Culture Shock"
If you recall, my SIM card turned up stolen on a Monday. This is the same day that I went down to the cellphone shop to yell and generally raise hell like the uppity white woman that I apparently am. After lodging my complaint the shop owner asked for a few days to deal with the situation. I left him my bill with the phone numbers dialed from Ghana and the promise that'd I'd call the police myself if something wasn't done.
When I returned on Wednesday it was to discover that he'd tricked a woman from the number list into giving up the identity of the person using my card. The person turns out to be a young man that can't be over the age of 19. I know this because I've met him. I've met him because the police arrested him Monday afternoon and left him to sit in a cell until I returned because Lawrence (store owner) had lost my phone number and couldn't find me.
After arriving at the police station and meeting this kid I watch a series of detectives yell, "I know you have the chip! You stole it from Lawrence!" at him while he responds "I threw it away when it stopped working. I found it on the ground." It's a movie about a drug bust gone horribly wrong.
I was shuffled upstairs to the police chief's office with Lawrence. Mind you, all the way through the police station Lawrence is stopping to chat with friends, investigate cellphones and taking orders for future cellphones. It quickly becomes apparent that he's practically best buddies with every police officer in Ho. The same is true with the police chief.
The police chief plops me down in a chair directly in front of his desk. His office is packed with huge pictures of him with crowds of white people. It appears that he's been to many, many UN sponsored training sessions. Later I will discover that this has made him bitter towards us yevu.
Immediately after sitting down he starts to talk over my shoulder and address only Lawrence who is sitting behind me. He's talking in Che, which I don't understand, obviously. He's complaining about volunteers and how we only come here for sight-seeing and to smoke cigarettes. I know this because Che borrows many words from English including sight-seeing and because he gestures with his hands more than you would believe. (Ghanaians, in general, are horrible at being clandestine.) Next he starts in on my tattoos. Not as people typically do in the US, but as in "Why are you stealing black culture? Tattoos are black culture." I've no idea of how true this might be, but I answer him with some nonsense about it being part of my Native American culture which he gladly accepts and comments that I do, in fact, look Native American. Next he moves on to discussing my love life. I tell him I'm married, which I often do, and show him the ring I wear around my neck on a chain- which is technically my father's, but whatever. He tells me that regardless, if I'm here for 2 whole months I need a Ghanaian boyfriend. He goes even further as to say that I need to "taste black flavor," before returning home. You've got it, the chief of the motherfucking police has just said this to me while supposedly investigating a theft case.
But wait, there's more. After our introduction he invites the parents of the boy they arrested for the card up to the room. He exchanges some sentences with the mother in Che. She cries a lot and leaves the room. I ask him what the hell they had just talked about as this is my case and I'd like to stay informed and he scoffs and tells me that he doesn't have time to translate for me, I'd better ask my, "friend Lawrence" later and shoves us out of the room.
I ask my buddy Lawrence and he explains that the police chief has given the family less than 24 hours to come up with 400 GHc. Mind you, these are farmers in a country where rent in the villages rarely exheeds 3 GHc per month. Mind you, I'm here as an aid worker. I may not be deluded enough to think I'm saving anybody, but I'm certainly not here to extort some poor farmers because a rich business owner that happens to be friends with the police doesn't want to compensate me for his stupid mistake. I explain this to Lawrence on the way out but he reminds me that this isn't my case anymore, it's his. He says we'll just wait until the money arrives tomorrow and give it back if need be.
Thursday, 12:00. I return because the chief told me to come at 11:30 and nobody in Ghana is ever on time. He giggles and says "Oh who told you to come at noon? The detective for this case won't even be in until 2. Come back later." I can't come back later because I'm traveling to Takoradi so I leave it with Lawrence who promises to drop charges and take care of things while I'm gone. I don't exactly trust Lawrence, but nobody at the station listens to me anyhow so I'm not sure what else was to be done.
When I made my final visit on Monday things appeared to have been resolved. The mother of the culprit was very happy as she'd been unable to sell her farm to get the 400 GHc anyhow. Lawrence is supposed to set up a meeting, which I would normally avoid but I think I'll go through with it just to be sure he didn't take the 400 from her and tell me it'd been settled.
I've gotten very used to be a minority to the extreme in this town. I've lived here now for six weeks and when you're fully immersed in something you get used to it, no matter how strange. Besides, I hail from Durham, NC not the Great White North ;) Even so, on the streets of Ho I'm a novelty or something silly. I'd yet to experience being a minority when I want to be taken seriously in a culture already lacking in appreciation for the independent woman. I can be witty about it now but at the time it felt like nothing I've experienced before. Not that I've ever not respected being such a visible minority in the United States, but now I can much better respect the anger that comes along with it. I'm not angry, but if this happened every time I attempted to visit the police for my entire life I can't say I'd feel the same.
But worry not, I'm still having the time of my life. I adore this country and the people here. I'm just at the point where you start to better appreciate the complicated relationship between Africa and Westerners.
I got an even better understanding of that during my trip to Takoradi by getting my purse stolen right off of my arm directly behind a castle where more then 300,000 slaves died during the slave trade. The police in Cape Coast make the chief here seem far more manageable, and as luck would have it I got to visit both of them in one day. I'll update about that later. For now there's work to be done. I've still got people to save through my generous work at the NGO, afterall.
If you recall, my SIM card turned up stolen on a Monday. This is the same day that I went down to the cellphone shop to yell and generally raise hell like the uppity white woman that I apparently am. After lodging my complaint the shop owner asked for a few days to deal with the situation. I left him my bill with the phone numbers dialed from Ghana and the promise that'd I'd call the police myself if something wasn't done.
When I returned on Wednesday it was to discover that he'd tricked a woman from the number list into giving up the identity of the person using my card. The person turns out to be a young man that can't be over the age of 19. I know this because I've met him. I've met him because the police arrested him Monday afternoon and left him to sit in a cell until I returned because Lawrence (store owner) had lost my phone number and couldn't find me.
After arriving at the police station and meeting this kid I watch a series of detectives yell, "I know you have the chip! You stole it from Lawrence!" at him while he responds "I threw it away when it stopped working. I found it on the ground." It's a movie about a drug bust gone horribly wrong.
I was shuffled upstairs to the police chief's office with Lawrence. Mind you, all the way through the police station Lawrence is stopping to chat with friends, investigate cellphones and taking orders for future cellphones. It quickly becomes apparent that he's practically best buddies with every police officer in Ho. The same is true with the police chief.
The police chief plops me down in a chair directly in front of his desk. His office is packed with huge pictures of him with crowds of white people. It appears that he's been to many, many UN sponsored training sessions. Later I will discover that this has made him bitter towards us yevu.
Immediately after sitting down he starts to talk over my shoulder and address only Lawrence who is sitting behind me. He's talking in Che, which I don't understand, obviously. He's complaining about volunteers and how we only come here for sight-seeing and to smoke cigarettes. I know this because Che borrows many words from English including sight-seeing and because he gestures with his hands more than you would believe. (Ghanaians, in general, are horrible at being clandestine.) Next he starts in on my tattoos. Not as people typically do in the US, but as in "Why are you stealing black culture? Tattoos are black culture." I've no idea of how true this might be, but I answer him with some nonsense about it being part of my Native American culture which he gladly accepts and comments that I do, in fact, look Native American. Next he moves on to discussing my love life. I tell him I'm married, which I often do, and show him the ring I wear around my neck on a chain- which is technically my father's, but whatever. He tells me that regardless, if I'm here for 2 whole months I need a Ghanaian boyfriend. He goes even further as to say that I need to "taste black flavor," before returning home. You've got it, the chief of the motherfucking police has just said this to me while supposedly investigating a theft case.
But wait, there's more. After our introduction he invites the parents of the boy they arrested for the card up to the room. He exchanges some sentences with the mother in Che. She cries a lot and leaves the room. I ask him what the hell they had just talked about as this is my case and I'd like to stay informed and he scoffs and tells me that he doesn't have time to translate for me, I'd better ask my, "friend Lawrence" later and shoves us out of the room.
I ask my buddy Lawrence and he explains that the police chief has given the family less than 24 hours to come up with 400 GHc. Mind you, these are farmers in a country where rent in the villages rarely exheeds 3 GHc per month. Mind you, I'm here as an aid worker. I may not be deluded enough to think I'm saving anybody, but I'm certainly not here to extort some poor farmers because a rich business owner that happens to be friends with the police doesn't want to compensate me for his stupid mistake. I explain this to Lawrence on the way out but he reminds me that this isn't my case anymore, it's his. He says we'll just wait until the money arrives tomorrow and give it back if need be.
Thursday, 12:00. I return because the chief told me to come at 11:30 and nobody in Ghana is ever on time. He giggles and says "Oh who told you to come at noon? The detective for this case won't even be in until 2. Come back later." I can't come back later because I'm traveling to Takoradi so I leave it with Lawrence who promises to drop charges and take care of things while I'm gone. I don't exactly trust Lawrence, but nobody at the station listens to me anyhow so I'm not sure what else was to be done.
When I made my final visit on Monday things appeared to have been resolved. The mother of the culprit was very happy as she'd been unable to sell her farm to get the 400 GHc anyhow. Lawrence is supposed to set up a meeting, which I would normally avoid but I think I'll go through with it just to be sure he didn't take the 400 from her and tell me it'd been settled.
I've gotten very used to be a minority to the extreme in this town. I've lived here now for six weeks and when you're fully immersed in something you get used to it, no matter how strange. Besides, I hail from Durham, NC not the Great White North ;) Even so, on the streets of Ho I'm a novelty or something silly. I'd yet to experience being a minority when I want to be taken seriously in a culture already lacking in appreciation for the independent woman. I can be witty about it now but at the time it felt like nothing I've experienced before. Not that I've ever not respected being such a visible minority in the United States, but now I can much better respect the anger that comes along with it. I'm not angry, but if this happened every time I attempted to visit the police for my entire life I can't say I'd feel the same.
But worry not, I'm still having the time of my life. I adore this country and the people here. I'm just at the point where you start to better appreciate the complicated relationship between Africa and Westerners.
I got an even better understanding of that during my trip to Takoradi by getting my purse stolen right off of my arm directly behind a castle where more then 300,000 slaves died during the slave trade. The police in Cape Coast make the chief here seem far more manageable, and as luck would have it I got to visit both of them in one day. I'll update about that later. For now there's work to be done. I've still got people to save through my generous work at the NGO, afterall.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Grafitti in Ho
The only piece of graffiti I've ever seen in Ghana. This is written on three walls of the building. I found it across the street from one of our small-to-medium enterprise (SME) client's establishment.
Negative Culture Shock
Four days before coming to
Here's what happened. Upon arriving in
I called Cingular and they're looking into why there was no block in place beforehand. I charged into the phone place (Gods and Sons on
To make matters even more comical, on the way home from this escapade I hail a taxi and sit in the back with another passenger. We're driving down main road when we see a fight in the street. Fights in
Travels - Wli Falls
First! This was the best trip so far! I thought Akosombo was beautiful but I've once again been becharmed by this county and forced to adjust my exceptions of just how beautiful a place can be, once again.
Here's another nice tourist shot of me with our tro-tro. I picked it based on it's price, seating and obviously colour.
During hiking you cross the river flowing from the waterfall a total of nine times on bridges at various levels of architectural soundness. You pass villages, children bathing, abandoned schoolhouses, cocoa trees, pineapple “shrubs,” etc. etc. There are these strange sloping mountain/hills surrounding you on all sides- it's almost like being in an incredibly green crater. Butterflies are everywhere and incredibly friendly! It's like being in a butterfly garden, but once again, it's for real.
After racing after Albert, a very fit and fast walker, we found the falls in about 40 minutes. They come upon you suddenly. You're rounding a corner thinking “Hmm... there is water vapor in the air,” and before you can vocalize the sentence, “We must be getting close,” you're there.
Yours truly feeling anxious because I want to go ahead and start swimming.
It gets better, when you look up from the base you can see hundreds of fruit bats flying around their nesting area. In the perfect noontime sunshine peeping over the mountain top they look more like tan colored birds than flying mammals and they are stunning. The whole effect had Marta and I hopping up and down in the wind and waves, looking up at the sky, laughing and whooping. Intoxicating. I've never felt that kind of release.
The rest of the trip went well. Our taxi driver was napping when we returned, I bought some gifts for friends, we lunched at a beautiful hotel restaurant with a view of the higher falls to kill. We quickly found a tro-tro back to Ho from Hohoe and were back in time for a big dinner. I have now, officially, made my own way in West Africa.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Learning the Ropes
Finally after being here for almost 4 weeks I've got the work situation mostly under control. I have a few major areas of focus and I will hopefully be able to make real changes before heading home next month. The lack of leadership and dedication here is frightening, but I'm doing my best not to let it deter me. The idea of ownership here is much different than back home. There is an expectation that decisions will be made for you and you'll just be in charge of manifesting them but little else. There's a constant struggle with the foreigners that either work here or volunteer here as to how to handle it: you either think you need to rehaul the entire system and start from scratch or get disenfranchised by what really appears to be a lack of interest on the part of many of the Ghanaian employed here and stop trying. Either way, nothing gets done. I'm dangerously close to falling into the second camp, but luckily there are other expats here that are in the first and they keep me right.
For instance, myself, another volunteer and two fulltime staff members were supposed to meet this morning to discuss the five year business plan we're attempting to build. It's 1pm. The project officer in charge has spent all afternoon chatting with the other workers in the house and apparently doing little else. Not even reviewing the basic business plan template we gave him this morning. It's frustrating, to say the least. I miss Pechan!
Anyhow- enough complaints. There's plenty of good as well. I have two main projects under way at the MFI. The first is to help develop a basic business plan (they don't have one!!!) and use it to develop 5-year projections for the fund (also doesn't exist!!!). Luckily- Marta, another volunteer, has an extensive finance background and it tackling the lead role for this project. Dave and I are to provide support. The project that I have more leadership on is developing or finding software to manage our loan portfolio and accounting system. We have an Excel spreadsheet to track our cash flows now but it's rudimentary and given that $10,000 loan we've just received, it's time to upgrade. We've partnered with the University of Pennsylvania's Microfinance Club to help do some of the grunt work and will be sending out their first list of tasks this afternoon.
Aside from the work at the MFI I've also started working to complete the application process for membership in the Fair Trade Federation for the Lady Volta Beads operation. This project is closer to my heart and more of an extracirricular activity. I've worked with fair trade producers far longer and more intimately than microfinance and I'm really excited to work with them in county. I'll be managing the application process and will soon start developing wholesale connections, prices, procedures, etc. with the beads project officer- Julie.
All-in-all, plenty of work. I wanted to work part-time but I've ended up working 30+ hours a week and most Saturdays since I've been here because there's so much going on. In the end it's better, though- helps pass the time! Ho is a very small town after all.
For instance, myself, another volunteer and two fulltime staff members were supposed to meet this morning to discuss the five year business plan we're attempting to build. It's 1pm. The project officer in charge has spent all afternoon chatting with the other workers in the house and apparently doing little else. Not even reviewing the basic business plan template we gave him this morning. It's frustrating, to say the least. I miss Pechan!
Anyhow- enough complaints. There's plenty of good as well. I have two main projects under way at the MFI. The first is to help develop a basic business plan (they don't have one!!!) and use it to develop 5-year projections for the fund (also doesn't exist!!!). Luckily- Marta, another volunteer, has an extensive finance background and it tackling the lead role for this project. Dave and I are to provide support. The project that I have more leadership on is developing or finding software to manage our loan portfolio and accounting system. We have an Excel spreadsheet to track our cash flows now but it's rudimentary and given that $10,000 loan we've just received, it's time to upgrade. We've partnered with the University of Pennsylvania's Microfinance Club to help do some of the grunt work and will be sending out their first list of tasks this afternoon.
Aside from the work at the MFI I've also started working to complete the application process for membership in the Fair Trade Federation for the Lady Volta Beads operation. This project is closer to my heart and more of an extracirricular activity. I've worked with fair trade producers far longer and more intimately than microfinance and I'm really excited to work with them in county. I'll be managing the application process and will soon start developing wholesale connections, prices, procedures, etc. with the beads project officer- Julie.
All-in-all, plenty of work. I wanted to work part-time but I've ended up working 30+ hours a week and most Saturdays since I've been here because there's so much going on. In the end it's better, though- helps pass the time! Ho is a very small town after all.
Travels - Akosombo
The internet is back for now as is the power! Things here are going extremely well. It's been almost a month and I feel completely at home in Ho. Not to say that I'm not counting the minutes until I'm back in Durham, but the homesickness has lifted.
Let us take a moment to catch up. First on travels and next I'll blog separately about how well work is going.
In an effort to get out and see more of Ghana and to pass the time more swiftly I've decided that I should be traveling every weekend that I'm here. This was weekend number 2, destination: Akosombo at Lake Volta.
Lake Volta is the largest manmade lake in the world. It was created by damming (sp?) the Volta River in the 1970s and the project of the first president of Ghana (see Accra post for details on him). The dam provides ALL of the electricity for ALL of Ghana and even exports to Benin and Togo. It was apparently built with the help of an American company hoping to use the tremendous power generated there to mine bauxite- but the company has since ceased operations and now the dam operates at only half capacity.
We hopped a tro-tro from the market at Ho towards Accra and were dropped about an hour later in Akosombo right after the huge and beautiful bridge that crosses Volta on the main road. We were dropped at night and the power was out for almost all of the region. Total darkness and stars like you've never seen before. It was exactly like being at the planetarium, but it was real. I'm pretty convinced I even glimpsed a bit of the Milky Way itself, but if you know about the Milky Way you know how easy it is to confuse it for a light cloud coverage.
We met a woman at the bridge crossing- she was selling some sort of produce- and she walked us down to the Akosombo Continental Hotel and was extremely friendly (as are all Ghanains). The hotel was luxurious to say the least and located right on the river. My travel companions right now are significantly higher budget than I am and the moderate hotels were all booked. Air conditioning, television, huge bed, lovely resturant with contintental menu, multiple bars (I counted at least 3), hot water in the shower, etc. etc.
The grounds were even more amazing. There is literally a ZOO at this hotel. A zoo! A sad, pathetic, unhappy zoo, but a zoo all the same. The zoo contains monkeys, crocodiles, an osterich, a chipmunk, ducks, three boas and some other small dog-like animal that slept all day. The hotel also had a lovely swimming pool that we spent much time lounging about.
After getting some good rest on Saturday night we got up and tanned/swam/read at the pool (wait until you see me in December, I have such an awesome tan). Then we hired a speedboat to take us out on the river and all the way up to the dam. The speedboat was ~$30, but between three people it was worth it. The trip was stunning. The lake lies in the middle of all of these valleys of the signature Volta Region hill-mountain-hybrids. Everything is green green green and lush. There are fishmen in large traditional rowed fishing boats spotted all over the lake. Villages dot the shores and you see children bathing, men getting read to go out fishing, traditional huts. Stunning, like I said. I've honestly never seen anything like it. Being out on the boat I had to step back and readjust the level of natural beauty I could accomodate. I will always remember Akosombo for being a moment where I realized how limited your view of the natural world is from home.
After making it out to the dam we rode back and docked at another hotel Afrikiko and ate lunch at a lakeside resturant that had a buffet and fresh fruit. The grounds there were also beautiful, but we didn't stay long. We headed back to the continental for more sun and then to the bridge to flag down a tro-tro. Given that it was Sunday evening, we weren't able to flag that tro-tro and ended up spending too much money to take a taxi all the way back to Ho. Next time we travel on Sunday we'll leave earlier.
But being stuck at the bridge was wonderful in it's own right. There are maybe 30 women that work at the bridge selling various snacks, produce, breads, etc. It's set up so that tro-tros and cars can enter from one side, ride through this crowd of women, shout out the window what they'd like and purchase it without having to stop for long. It's a comedy to an outsider. Everytime a tro-tro pulls up the women RUN. They run fullspeed while balanacing whatever they're selling on the tops of their heads to greet the tro-tro. I've stopped here before in a car, but never had the chance to spend much time there. The women were amazing. By the end of our wait Julia had at least 15 of them yelling "Ho? Ho? Ho?" at every passing tro-tro.
Now for the photos:
Cheesy tourist shot at Afrikiko in front of Lake Volta!
View from Akosombo Continental Hotel, next time I want to rent a paddle boat and paddle around the lake.
Picture from the same area, but this one has the speedboat we took to the dam and the beautiful bridge that crosses the lake at the main road. It's right by this bridge that we tried to catch our tro-tro.
Picture of the dam. It's HUGE. Impossible to catch in a photo, but I did my best.
Let us take a moment to catch up. First on travels and next I'll blog separately about how well work is going.
In an effort to get out and see more of Ghana and to pass the time more swiftly I've decided that I should be traveling every weekend that I'm here. This was weekend number 2, destination: Akosombo at Lake Volta.
Lake Volta is the largest manmade lake in the world. It was created by damming (sp?) the Volta River in the 1970s and the project of the first president of Ghana (see Accra post for details on him). The dam provides ALL of the electricity for ALL of Ghana and even exports to Benin and Togo. It was apparently built with the help of an American company hoping to use the tremendous power generated there to mine bauxite- but the company has since ceased operations and now the dam operates at only half capacity.
We hopped a tro-tro from the market at Ho towards Accra and were dropped about an hour later in Akosombo right after the huge and beautiful bridge that crosses Volta on the main road. We were dropped at night and the power was out for almost all of the region. Total darkness and stars like you've never seen before. It was exactly like being at the planetarium, but it was real. I'm pretty convinced I even glimpsed a bit of the Milky Way itself, but if you know about the Milky Way you know how easy it is to confuse it for a light cloud coverage.
We met a woman at the bridge crossing- she was selling some sort of produce- and she walked us down to the Akosombo Continental Hotel and was extremely friendly (as are all Ghanains). The hotel was luxurious to say the least and located right on the river. My travel companions right now are significantly higher budget than I am and the moderate hotels were all booked. Air conditioning, television, huge bed, lovely resturant with contintental menu, multiple bars (I counted at least 3), hot water in the shower, etc. etc.
The grounds were even more amazing. There is literally a ZOO at this hotel. A zoo! A sad, pathetic, unhappy zoo, but a zoo all the same. The zoo contains monkeys, crocodiles, an osterich, a chipmunk, ducks, three boas and some other small dog-like animal that slept all day. The hotel also had a lovely swimming pool that we spent much time lounging about.
After getting some good rest on Saturday night we got up and tanned/swam/read at the pool (wait until you see me in December, I have such an awesome tan). Then we hired a speedboat to take us out on the river and all the way up to the dam. The speedboat was ~$30, but between three people it was worth it. The trip was stunning. The lake lies in the middle of all of these valleys of the signature Volta Region hill-mountain-hybrids. Everything is green green green and lush. There are fishmen in large traditional rowed fishing boats spotted all over the lake. Villages dot the shores and you see children bathing, men getting read to go out fishing, traditional huts. Stunning, like I said. I've honestly never seen anything like it. Being out on the boat I had to step back and readjust the level of natural beauty I could accomodate. I will always remember Akosombo for being a moment where I realized how limited your view of the natural world is from home.
After making it out to the dam we rode back and docked at another hotel Afrikiko and ate lunch at a lakeside resturant that had a buffet and fresh fruit. The grounds there were also beautiful, but we didn't stay long. We headed back to the continental for more sun and then to the bridge to flag down a tro-tro. Given that it was Sunday evening, we weren't able to flag that tro-tro and ended up spending too much money to take a taxi all the way back to Ho. Next time we travel on Sunday we'll leave earlier.
But being stuck at the bridge was wonderful in it's own right. There are maybe 30 women that work at the bridge selling various snacks, produce, breads, etc. It's set up so that tro-tros and cars can enter from one side, ride through this crowd of women, shout out the window what they'd like and purchase it without having to stop for long. It's a comedy to an outsider. Everytime a tro-tro pulls up the women RUN. They run fullspeed while balanacing whatever they're selling on the tops of their heads to greet the tro-tro. I've stopped here before in a car, but never had the chance to spend much time there. The women were amazing. By the end of our wait Julia had at least 15 of them yelling "Ho? Ho? Ho?" at every passing tro-tro.
Now for the photos:
Cheesy tourist shot at Afrikiko in front of Lake Volta!
View from Akosombo Continental Hotel, next time I want to rent a paddle boat and paddle around the lake.
Picture from the same area, but this one has the speedboat we took to the dam and the beautiful bridge that crosses the lake at the main road. It's right by this bridge that we tried to catch our tro-tro.
Picture of the dam. It's HUGE. Impossible to catch in a photo, but I did my best.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Checking In
I know I've been horrible at updating/answer email. The internet's been down in Ho for the last four days and I'm not sure when it'll be back up. There are shortages of power and water throughout Ho so those are both also unreliable, but the internet is the worst. Apparently this is very normal for the end of the year, so please don't worry. We have plenty of other sources of light and water as to not be uncomfortable.
I'll write more soon. I had an amazing weekend and the microfinance work is taking off.
I'll write more soon. I had an amazing weekend and the microfinance work is taking off.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Jewelry Making
Yesterday we all went down to the center to learn to make some simple beaded necklaces. Tomorrow we'll have visitors from the UN coming to town to learn about our beadmaking process, meet the girls and make and buy their own necklaces. Here are a couple of action shots from the practice session yesterday as I've realized how bad I am at posting photos of myself here instead of just the sights.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Photos, Part 4
Another small installment of misc. photos.
You can see this hill/mountain from our house (as in, I'm looking out the window at it at this very moment), but on Friday I went to a village right at the base- Helekpe (hel-ek-pay). The trip was to go over business assessments with THIRTY prospective loan clients and help them fill in other paperwork. We'll only be giving out 10 loans to the village just yet due to our process, but it looks good that the others will benefit if the first 10 loans are repayed according to plan. We met in an open-air church, this is the view right after walking out the front doors. I'm not a religious person, but damn fine planning on someone's part. I found myself walking out of the church and being stunned.
You can see this hill/mountain from our house (as in, I'm looking out the window at it at this very moment), but on Friday I went to a village right at the base- Helekpe (hel-ek-pay). The trip was to go over business assessments with THIRTY prospective loan clients and help them fill in other paperwork. We'll only be giving out 10 loans to the village just yet due to our process, but it looks good that the others will benefit if the first 10 loans are repayed according to plan. We met in an open-air church, this is the view right after walking out the front doors. I'm not a religious person, but damn fine planning on someone's part. I found myself walking out of the church and being stunned.
Weekend in Accra and the Clinic in Ho
Sorry for the slight delay, but after I finished up my oh-so-fun and oh-so-cosmopolitan weekend in Accra I promptly came down with a bad case of food poisoning and have spend the last four days either at the clinic or asleep in my netted bed. Figures, I live out in rural Ghana and eat everything with no problem- I weekend in the big city where they are supposed to be accustomed to dealing with the fragile Western stomach and I'm poisoned.
That being said, the clinic in Ho (Healthy Life, it's called) is superb. Very clean, amazingly helpful and friendly staff, cheap as all hell and professional. I paid $4.50 for my appointment and another $4.00 to get tested for malaria and typhoid (just in case). Finally, an additional $20 for two injections, a regiment of pills and nutrient syrup designed to build up strength. The wait wasn't bad either- about three hours from start to finish. Not bad given there's no way to make an appointment before hand and Mondays are very busy days for the clinic, which is closed on Saturday and Sunday.
Moving along.. Accra!
Accra was refreshing, but I'm glad I life in Ho. Accra is so much like any other large international city that you forget you're in Africa within the first 20 minutes of arriving. There are tons of Westerners and Asians about, fancy AIR CONDITIONED restaurants, stop lights, grocery stores, etc. I appreciate living in Ho where it's undoubtedly Africa 24/7, but also completely comfortable almost always.
The trip there was my first tro-tro ride. A tro-tro is like a minivan and is a big part of public transport in Ghana. They get you around larger cities like Accra and between all the other cities in the country. To catch one you go to the station in the center of town and following the men yelling "ACCRA!" Then you pay them $4.50 for a seat in the tro-tro- a small seat. You know when you see travel shows about Africa on National Geographic and there are forever those vans packed too full of people flying by in the background? That's a tro-tro.
Our first stop after dropping in Accra was a coffee shop to get a real cup of coffee (all coffee in Ho is instant) and fancy pastries. Then we checked in at the Salvation Army where we'd be staying all weekend. The accommodations were good- $6 a night gets you a room to share with 6 others and access to the bathroom, which includes a shower. The water was out the entire weekend so we could only take bucket showers and had to carry around bottled water for brushing teeth and washing hands, but bucket showers have a certain romantic woodsy appeal if you ask me.
Later we went out for drinks at a place called Venus and ran into some friends Julia has in Accra. We ended up tagging along with them to a spot to have some more drinks. This is when I realized that the expats that live in Accra see the expats that live in Ho as folk heroes. They want to hear about what happens when we run out of water at the house and how we handle not having access to fresh veggies and fruit (which is a myth- we have plenty of both). And, oh really? Almost no one in Ho has their own car!? You've been to a real-life village? I will admit a certain sense of pride during these exchanges. No, I may not live in a village, but at least I don't live in Accra.
Following that set of drinks we headed to an expat Karaoke bar and actually watched some Yevus sing "Don't Stop Believin'" in the middle of Ghana. Then we played pool with a bunch of cellphone workers from South Africa. All of it- bizarre.
The following day was the best. We went to the memorial for the first president of Ghana: Kwame Nkrumah (pronounced kroo-mah). The memorial includes some great architecture (see photos below), the mausoleum for both Nkrumah and his wife, a museum in his honor and a large garden. There are two things that make Nkrumah and this memorial so significant (Julia and I both got goosebumps during the tour). First, Ghana was the first independent Africa country. So the first president of Ghana is by definition the first president of any African country, EVER. Second, the memorial is built AT THE VERY SAME SITE used by Nkrumah to declare Ghana's independence. Meaning? Yes, I've stood at the exact location where the first independent Africa county to ever exist gained its independence. Now the photos.
Statue of Nkrumah pointing "always forward, never backward," at the location of his speech. Behind him is the mausoleum memorial. It is modeled to look like a tree that has started growing, but has yet to finish and grow into a full tree. This represents the need for further progress in Ghana, and Africa as a whole, after Nkrumah's initial help.
The gardens in the background and some more statues that represent traditional Africans supporting independence. There are 7 of these in the pool surrounding Nkrumah. Each represents a day used by God during creation.
His museum in the background and an older statue of him in the foreground. This statue stood at a different location in Accra until the 1970s when it was looted and broken during a military coup!
Finally, that night we made a trip to the casino. My first casino trip ever, but I have to document that we won big! We each put in $5 and Julie walked away with $10 while I managed $9. Almost double our profits and we made it entirely by betting on 3 and 33 at the roulette table. If you know me at all, you know much happy anything dealing with luck and the number 3 makes me.
That being said, the clinic in Ho (Healthy Life, it's called) is superb. Very clean, amazingly helpful and friendly staff, cheap as all hell and professional. I paid $4.50 for my appointment and another $4.00 to get tested for malaria and typhoid (just in case). Finally, an additional $20 for two injections, a regiment of pills and nutrient syrup designed to build up strength. The wait wasn't bad either- about three hours from start to finish. Not bad given there's no way to make an appointment before hand and Mondays are very busy days for the clinic, which is closed on Saturday and Sunday.
Moving along.. Accra!
Accra was refreshing, but I'm glad I life in Ho. Accra is so much like any other large international city that you forget you're in Africa within the first 20 minutes of arriving. There are tons of Westerners and Asians about, fancy AIR CONDITIONED restaurants, stop lights, grocery stores, etc. I appreciate living in Ho where it's undoubtedly Africa 24/7, but also completely comfortable almost always.
The trip there was my first tro-tro ride. A tro-tro is like a minivan and is a big part of public transport in Ghana. They get you around larger cities like Accra and between all the other cities in the country. To catch one you go to the station in the center of town and following the men yelling "ACCRA!" Then you pay them $4.50 for a seat in the tro-tro- a small seat. You know when you see travel shows about Africa on National Geographic and there are forever those vans packed too full of people flying by in the background? That's a tro-tro.
Our first stop after dropping in Accra was a coffee shop to get a real cup of coffee (all coffee in Ho is instant) and fancy pastries. Then we checked in at the Salvation Army where we'd be staying all weekend. The accommodations were good- $6 a night gets you a room to share with 6 others and access to the bathroom, which includes a shower. The water was out the entire weekend so we could only take bucket showers and had to carry around bottled water for brushing teeth and washing hands, but bucket showers have a certain romantic woodsy appeal if you ask me.
Later we went out for drinks at a place called Venus and ran into some friends Julia has in Accra. We ended up tagging along with them to a spot to have some more drinks. This is when I realized that the expats that live in Accra see the expats that live in Ho as folk heroes. They want to hear about what happens when we run out of water at the house and how we handle not having access to fresh veggies and fruit (which is a myth- we have plenty of both). And, oh really? Almost no one in Ho has their own car!? You've been to a real-life village? I will admit a certain sense of pride during these exchanges. No, I may not live in a village, but at least I don't live in Accra.
Following that set of drinks we headed to an expat Karaoke bar and actually watched some Yevus sing "Don't Stop Believin'" in the middle of Ghana. Then we played pool with a bunch of cellphone workers from South Africa. All of it- bizarre.
The following day was the best. We went to the memorial for the first president of Ghana: Kwame Nkrumah (pronounced kroo-mah). The memorial includes some great architecture (see photos below), the mausoleum for both Nkrumah and his wife, a museum in his honor and a large garden. There are two things that make Nkrumah and this memorial so significant (Julia and I both got goosebumps during the tour). First, Ghana was the first independent Africa country. So the first president of Ghana is by definition the first president of any African country, EVER. Second, the memorial is built AT THE VERY SAME SITE used by Nkrumah to declare Ghana's independence. Meaning? Yes, I've stood at the exact location where the first independent Africa county to ever exist gained its independence. Now the photos.
Statue of Nkrumah pointing "always forward, never backward," at the location of his speech. Behind him is the mausoleum memorial. It is modeled to look like a tree that has started growing, but has yet to finish and grow into a full tree. This represents the need for further progress in Ghana, and Africa as a whole, after Nkrumah's initial help.
The gardens in the background and some more statues that represent traditional Africans supporting independence. There are 7 of these in the pool surrounding Nkrumah. Each represents a day used by God during creation.
His museum in the background and an older statue of him in the foreground. This statue stood at a different location in Accra until the 1970s when it was looted and broken during a military coup!
Finally, that night we made a trip to the casino. My first casino trip ever, but I have to document that we won big! We each put in $5 and Julie walked away with $10 while I managed $9. Almost double our profits and we made it entirely by betting on 3 and 33 at the roulette table. If you know me at all, you know much happy anything dealing with luck and the number 3 makes me.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Photos, Part 3
For my mother: the house dogs. Mango is at left and Yevu (because he's pale, like me) is at right.
Funeral in Ghana from the Resource Center. I know, it's a little odd that I took a photo of a funeral procession, but it's such a big deal in Ghana. They happen each Friday and take the form of a giant parade: marching band, color guard-esque rifle twirling, groups of singers, signs and everywhere people smiling and enjoying themselves.
Funeral in Ghana from the Resource Center. I know, it's a little odd that I took a photo of a funeral procession, but it's such a big deal in Ghana. They happen each Friday and take the form of a giant parade: marching band, color guard-esque rifle twirling, groups of singers, signs and everywhere people smiling and enjoying themselves.
Starting Work
I honestly didn't get much work done my first week here, but this week has been far more productive. I've been working with the microfinance project officers to QC the existing loan portfolio. It was a good exercise and we finally discovered why the loan portfolio balance wasn't matching the bank statements. From here I'll be working to redevelop the loan portfolio software and prepare information for end-of-the-year financial reports. The existing portfolio is well-developed, but difficult to manipulate has almost no built-in QC which made for some interesting discoveries when I went through all of the pre-existing entries.
Today we finally received the $10,000 loan promised by a supporter in the US. Given that our average loan is ~$150, image how much we can get out of $10,000, especially if we manage to secure the high margin of paybacks that we have now. Even conservatively that's a positive impact on at least 25 women and families.
Tomorrow Seth and I will head to a nearby village to make contact with a group of 10 women interested in securing loans. We'll go over screening forms, business assessments and a pre-loan standard of living assessment to measure the impact of our work. Seth will go through the process with 5 of the women and myself and a translator will go through it was the remaining 5. It should be an interesting, though frustrating, morning. Discussing business through a translator with a woman who has very little exposure to formal business. Seth is confident that we'll get it done in 30 minutes per participant, but I'm likewise confident that he'll end up finishing long before I do.
Oh well, we have to be done by noon to get the VEG car back to Ho for a trip to Accra. I'll spend the weekend there with friends from the organization. Accra is the capital of Ghana and I was only there for a few minutes when my flight arrived and still far too wide-eyed and shocked to see anything but the mass of people in the streets. This time I'll still be overwhelmed, but at least better prepared. I'll take pictures!
Today we finally received the $10,000 loan promised by a supporter in the US. Given that our average loan is ~$150, image how much we can get out of $10,000, especially if we manage to secure the high margin of paybacks that we have now. Even conservatively that's a positive impact on at least 25 women and families.
Tomorrow Seth and I will head to a nearby village to make contact with a group of 10 women interested in securing loans. We'll go over screening forms, business assessments and a pre-loan standard of living assessment to measure the impact of our work. Seth will go through the process with 5 of the women and myself and a translator will go through it was the remaining 5. It should be an interesting, though frustrating, morning. Discussing business through a translator with a woman who has very little exposure to formal business. Seth is confident that we'll get it done in 30 minutes per participant, but I'm likewise confident that he'll end up finishing long before I do.
Oh well, we have to be done by noon to get the VEG car back to Ho for a trip to Accra. I'll spend the weekend there with friends from the organization. Accra is the capital of Ghana and I was only there for a few minutes when my flight arrived and still far too wide-eyed and shocked to see anything but the mass of people in the streets. This time I'll still be overwhelmed, but at least better prepared. I'll take pictures!
A Dash of Reality
I met a man on the street outside the house a few days ago. I greeted him, as you always do in Ghana, and he promptly fell to the ground in front of me and started praying. Not in any remotely humorous way, but in a way that made it obvious that he was mentally unstable.
He was carrying a bowlful of cooked rice, covered in scars, missing most of his teeth but clearly in no immediate danger. Once he'd finished praying he got up and started talking to me in Ewe. I told him I didn't understand and he started just repeating "Help me. If you don't help me I die." I went back to telling him I couldn't understand him and making confused hand gestures- to which he responded with more of "Help me." Apparently my response wasn't good enough so he dropped again to his knees, this time putting his head on ground and crawling after me as I backed away. Then I apologized to him and went back to the house and he left.
Mind you, I didn't feel unsafe at any point. The man was clearly not dangerous. He never even tried to touch me except for near my ankles. There were tons of people about that would have intervened had he made me really uncomfortable. These same tons of people speak his language and had he really been in danger he would likely have gone to them for help.
It was just a moment of realizing that even though I'm here, and even though I'm completely comfortable in Ho and understand the standard of living it's still far removed from the standard for so many other people here- very close. It's better than locking myself in Accra and pretending to have an "authentic Ghanaian experience" and I'll see far more as I spend more time in the villages, but I'm still, undeniably, sheltered.
Speaking of villages- I did visit a village called Takla yesterday to sit in on English classes. Takla itself is a good village, nothing particularly different from my lovely safe Ho, but the road to Takla is marked by many smaller, less developed villages full of poorly clothed children and even more goats and chickens than here. Here it's much more fascinating to be a Yevu, even just taking the taxi through the villages with no stops the children would call to me in the car. I wave back but I can't help but feel at odds with the whole situation. I travel through the villages like a celebrity, and I keep telling myself I'm here to help. But who am I helping? The incredibly self-sufficient and capable residents of Ho, not these kids chasing my taxi through a village. Luckily, I didn't come into this with any sort of intention to be much of a valuable resource beyond being Excel savvy and having the ability to take 2 months off to be here. More than anything I want to learn about things I'd normally overlook from the US, and beleive me there is no shortage of learning even in my sheltered Ho!
He was carrying a bowlful of cooked rice, covered in scars, missing most of his teeth but clearly in no immediate danger. Once he'd finished praying he got up and started talking to me in Ewe. I told him I didn't understand and he started just repeating "Help me. If you don't help me I die." I went back to telling him I couldn't understand him and making confused hand gestures- to which he responded with more of "Help me." Apparently my response wasn't good enough so he dropped again to his knees, this time putting his head on ground and crawling after me as I backed away. Then I apologized to him and went back to the house and he left.
Mind you, I didn't feel unsafe at any point. The man was clearly not dangerous. He never even tried to touch me except for near my ankles. There were tons of people about that would have intervened had he made me really uncomfortable. These same tons of people speak his language and had he really been in danger he would likely have gone to them for help.
It was just a moment of realizing that even though I'm here, and even though I'm completely comfortable in Ho and understand the standard of living it's still far removed from the standard for so many other people here- very close. It's better than locking myself in Accra and pretending to have an "authentic Ghanaian experience" and I'll see far more as I spend more time in the villages, but I'm still, undeniably, sheltered.
Speaking of villages- I did visit a village called Takla yesterday to sit in on English classes. Takla itself is a good village, nothing particularly different from my lovely safe Ho, but the road to Takla is marked by many smaller, less developed villages full of poorly clothed children and even more goats and chickens than here. Here it's much more fascinating to be a Yevu, even just taking the taxi through the villages with no stops the children would call to me in the car. I wave back but I can't help but feel at odds with the whole situation. I travel through the villages like a celebrity, and I keep telling myself I'm here to help. But who am I helping? The incredibly self-sufficient and capable residents of Ho, not these kids chasing my taxi through a village. Luckily, I didn't come into this with any sort of intention to be much of a valuable resource beyond being Excel savvy and having the ability to take 2 months off to be here. More than anything I want to learn about things I'd normally overlook from the US, and beleive me there is no shortage of learning even in my sheltered Ho!
Friday, October 3, 2008
Photos, Part 2
Somebody (name beginning with a and ending with labama) once told me that she had no faith in my keeping my camera charged and empty of pictures. In response here is my SECOND post of photos- and my camera has plenty of space.
These are from the Lady Volta Resource Center- a community center run by VEG. As far as I can tell so far the focus is providing a place for pre-teens and teens to come with questions about sexual awareness, use computers, read books and play games. It also provides outreach focused on life skills and sexual health to women in the community at large- particularly young single mothers. Once I get a better handle on my work here I hope to use the center to host classes for the Youth Business Start-Up Competion.
I spend most afternoons here because the internet connection at the house doesn't work with Windows Vista but it works fine here and because I'm going to be working with some of the skills classes starting next week. Just so happens they are learning English next week. Right now I'm sitting in the welcome area greeting students as they arrive.
Here's the view from the front room:
And, one of our posters to better explain our mission. STIs are sexually transmitted infections- same as STD in the US.
These are from the Lady Volta Resource Center- a community center run by VEG. As far as I can tell so far the focus is providing a place for pre-teens and teens to come with questions about sexual awareness, use computers, read books and play games. It also provides outreach focused on life skills and sexual health to women in the community at large- particularly young single mothers. Once I get a better handle on my work here I hope to use the center to host classes for the Youth Business Start-Up Competion.
I spend most afternoons here because the internet connection at the house doesn't work with Windows Vista but it works fine here and because I'm going to be working with some of the skills classes starting next week. Just so happens they are learning English next week. Right now I'm sitting in the welcome area greeting students as they arrive.
Here's the view from the front room:
And, one of our posters to better explain our mission. STIs are sexually transmitted infections- same as STD in the US.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Bar vs. The Spot
In the US we go to the bar. In Ghana we go to the spot. I've visited two spots as of yet (good to know I've fallen in with a group with similar interests).
Other differences:
Like everything else, spots are outdoors.
There are not shots, but tots instead.
There are not cocktails but tots next to bottles of club soda and sprite instead.
There are not restrooms but uncovered, outdoor gravel pits (i.e. human litterboxes) instead. Particularly pleasant when raining. It made me decide very firmly to never be drunk in Ho. At least never drunk enough to fall backwards into the pit of rocks.
There ARE animals. Last night we spent an hour battling an overly-friendly baby chicken/duck. It yelped around our table jumping into our chairs and pecking at our feet until finally a local came and took him elsewhere. Not that he wasn't adorable...
Cigarettes are cheap- about $0.95/pack. PallMall too, nothing off the beaten path.
Drinks are cheap- less than $5 for three 21oz beers (I did not drink them all myself!).
Beer comes in large 2l oz bottles. There are five regional varieties- all of which apparently taste like BudLight which is a-okay by me. You can also order Guinness.
In order to get the attention of the waiter you hiss.
Don't get me wrong, I'm positively loving every second of it.
Other differences:
Like everything else, spots are outdoors.
There are not shots, but tots instead.
There are not cocktails but tots next to bottles of club soda and sprite instead.
There are not restrooms but uncovered, outdoor gravel pits (i.e. human litterboxes) instead. Particularly pleasant when raining. It made me decide very firmly to never be drunk in Ho. At least never drunk enough to fall backwards into the pit of rocks.
There ARE animals. Last night we spent an hour battling an overly-friendly baby chicken/duck. It yelped around our table jumping into our chairs and pecking at our feet until finally a local came and took him elsewhere. Not that he wasn't adorable...
Cigarettes are cheap- about $0.95/pack. PallMall too, nothing off the beaten path.
Drinks are cheap- less than $5 for three 21oz beers (I did not drink them all myself!).
Beer comes in large 2l oz bottles. There are five regional varieties- all of which apparently taste like BudLight which is a-okay by me. You can also order Guinness.
In order to get the attention of the waiter you hiss.
Don't get me wrong, I'm positively loving every second of it.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Photos, Part 1
I'm no gifted photographer and I'm still getting over my embarrassment of looking like a tourist. I know! As if the camera would give it away. Either way, maybe they'll get better with time. Right now I'm still too busy staring to pause for good photos.
First, the VEG house (my home away from home):
From the road.
From within the garden, in front of the cabana.
The cabana itself. The dogs love relaxing here during the day.
My bedroom/bed. I have a room to myself, but may get roommates as more volunteers show up.
And for my mother, our cats. Both are very charming and love attention. They have Ewe names but I'm not sure how to type either of them. In English the names are Frog and Chair. Chair sounds like zk-pee. Frog is more advanced and I can't even say it yet. And yes, mother, I will post pictures of the dogs soon!
A few from my first weekend:
A performance at the Yam Festival.
Julie's family. From left: Patience, her younger sister, her father and herself. All school children regardless of gender have to shaves their heads while in school. This is why every single young girl in Ho has Patience's haircut.
Ho, in general:
One of the busier streets in Ho. Most of the city has unpaved roads surrounded by small market huts, but two of the roads are far more modern with recognizable buildings. Notice though the unusual traffic behavior all the same- i.e that Toyota randomly driving the wrong lane.
Another picture from the same street. I'm trying to show off the beautiful hills/mountains that surround Ho. Notice also a market hut to the left- this one is actually double the size of the usual shop. I will try to get photos next week during market day when things really get crazy in the dirtier parts of town :)
First, the VEG house (my home away from home):
From the road.
From within the garden, in front of the cabana.
The cabana itself. The dogs love relaxing here during the day.
My bedroom/bed. I have a room to myself, but may get roommates as more volunteers show up.
And for my mother, our cats. Both are very charming and love attention. They have Ewe names but I'm not sure how to type either of them. In English the names are Frog and Chair. Chair sounds like zk-pee. Frog is more advanced and I can't even say it yet. And yes, mother, I will post pictures of the dogs soon!
A few from my first weekend:
A performance at the Yam Festival.
Julie's family. From left: Patience, her younger sister, her father and herself. All school children regardless of gender have to shaves their heads while in school. This is why every single young girl in Ho has Patience's haircut.
Ho, in general:
One of the busier streets in Ho. Most of the city has unpaved roads surrounded by small market huts, but two of the roads are far more modern with recognizable buildings. Notice though the unusual traffic behavior all the same- i.e that Toyota randomly driving the wrong lane.
Another picture from the same street. I'm trying to show off the beautiful hills/mountains that surround Ho. Notice also a market hut to the left- this one is actually double the size of the usual shop. I will try to get photos next week during market day when things really get crazy in the dirtier parts of town :)
Famous in Ho!
Kanako, Julie and I went to the Yam Festival on Saturday. The Yam Festival is a big deal in Ho, there were many government officials at the ceremony. I was lucky to arrive the day before the big cultural events. There were some beautiful performances of traditional dances. Kanaku and I got to sit up right front with one of the Ewe community groups with the aid of some of our Yevu luck (read: Ghanaians are so polite to us that even when we're being rude they will accomodate us, so when we're friendly doors fly open). Since it's such a big event there were cameras from Ghana tv stations taping the activity and the audience. Yesterday, one of Kanakos friends called to tell her he'd seen us on TV! The only two Yevu in the whole crowd, impossible to miss.
How to Catch a Taxi in Ho
Travel by taxi is the dominant form of transportation within Ho and to surrounding villages. People do plenty of walking and bike riding but personal car ownership is very rare. It's easy to hail a taxi here though because there are hundreds. I've never waited more than a minute before being able to catch one going the right way.
I navigated my first solo taxi trip today! I used all of the lessons I've learned from riding with Kanako and Julie
over the weekend. First, to hail you stand on the curb, wait for the approach, give a slight wave and point to the ground in front of you. Once you've hailed the taxi you lean into the window and announce your destination. He considers
it and will usually nod you in if he knows where it is and is headed that way. You never get a taxi to yourself in Ho, instead you get in with people already headed in a similar direction and get dropped of on the way or afterwards. Our house is at Alai Rd. which is all you need to say to get to the right place. After getting in you greet the driver. Kanako uses the standard Good Morning, Good Afternoon or Good Evening and I've stolen this from her. Next do everything possible to be friendly and initiate conversation. Nothing major due to the language barrier but "It's going to be hot today!" or "Do you own this taxi?" are pretty solid. It is far less likely that they will overcharge you if you're nice. Just before you reach your location you give them 40p. Don't let them set a price. If they ask for more you remind them that every other taxi takes you to Alai Rd. for only 40p. I gave my driver 60p today but that's because I missed the house and we had to drive around a bit to find it and he was very friendly about it.
I also walked through town by myself for the first time today. Full emersion is an excellent way to get yourself used to
unusual situations. Four days ago I couldn't even talk to Moses in the car because I was so overwhelmed and already I'm learning to deal with life as a Yevu. It just involves much smiling and laughing and saying Hello and Yo.
I navigated my first solo taxi trip today! I used all of the lessons I've learned from riding with Kanako and Julie
over the weekend. First, to hail you stand on the curb, wait for the approach, give a slight wave and point to the ground in front of you. Once you've hailed the taxi you lean into the window and announce your destination. He considers
it and will usually nod you in if he knows where it is and is headed that way. You never get a taxi to yourself in Ho, instead you get in with people already headed in a similar direction and get dropped of on the way or afterwards. Our house is at Alai Rd. which is all you need to say to get to the right place. After getting in you greet the driver. Kanako uses the standard Good Morning, Good Afternoon or Good Evening and I've stolen this from her. Next do everything possible to be friendly and initiate conversation. Nothing major due to the language barrier but "It's going to be hot today!" or "Do you own this taxi?" are pretty solid. It is far less likely that they will overcharge you if you're nice. Just before you reach your location you give them 40p. Don't let them set a price. If they ask for more you remind them that every other taxi takes you to Alai Rd. for only 40p. I gave my driver 60p today but that's because I missed the house and we had to drive around a bit to find it and he was very friendly about it.
I also walked through town by myself for the first time today. Full emersion is an excellent way to get yourself used to
unusual situations. Four days ago I couldn't even talk to Moses in the car because I was so overwhelmed and already I'm learning to deal with life as a Yevu. It just involves much smiling and laughing and saying Hello and Yo.
Weekend Recap 1
Every day here I find myself doing something completely new. I'm going to have stories from this experience for the rest of my life. My first weekend turned out to be great. I was a bit nervous when I first arrived because all of the volunteers were out of town except one - Kanako. Kanako's English is very good, but not fluent. Turns out the concern was misplaced. Kanako and I get along very well. I truely admire the way she interacts with the people here and her sense of adventure. I feel like sticking with her will ensure a more authentic experience and she seems to have a very good heart. Unfortunately, she's leaving VEG on Sunday. So I'll learn what I can from her now and wish her well on her next adventure.
Sidetracked.... to the weekend. I stuck with Kanako and Julie, a VEG staff member and local of Ho, for most of the weekend. On Saturday we went to the Yam Festival which is the biggest annual event in Ho and something my neighbor on the flight here told me about. After that we made a quick trip to town- my first. It was hugely overwhelming but easy to adjust to. Shops here consist of small boxed wooden structures with tin roofs. The front side is left open when the shop is doing business so the structure only appears to have three sides. There are hundreds of these throughout town selling everything from cellphones to traditional fabric to fresh produce.
Then we went to see Moses at his apartment and he cooked us a delicious lunch of Banku (sp) and fish stew. Banku is mostly corn flower and water mixed together to create a very thick paste which you eat with your right hand. They bring out a bowl of water before eating and you wash up the hand and then break little pieces of the Banku off and scoop up stew. I hadn't had fish in more than 8 years, it's still not worth eating. I was very happy that Moses cooked for us, but will do my best to avoid fish from here on out. His apartment was nice and well-kept but very small. One room, smaller than my bedroom but only slightly. But, he has an amazing stereo, television and computer as well as a double-bed (luxury in Ghana). We went from Moses' to Julie's place to meet her family and learn to make Fufu (more food).
Julie's apartment was bigger than Moses'. She has at least two rooms, but didn't give us a tour so I'm not sure about the details. She also has her own kitchen/storage area out in the courtyard. Her family was incredibly friendly and Kanako took pictures of all of us together which I will post soon. At Julie's we learned to peel cassava and pound Fufu. Although it easily takes me ten times longer to peel cassava because cutting boards are unheard of in Ghana and you cut things while holding them in your hand. I'm too clumsy for this behavior. Fufu is similar in presentation to Banku, but it's made from pounding yam and cassava (similar to potatoes) until you break the starch bonds and it becomes stretchy, light and tasty. Julie served this with chicken stew and it was very good but hard to finish as we'd just eaten a heavy meal a few hours before. Julie's neighbors all came out to prepare their own dinners and were very friendly with us. They got a kick out of the Yevu trying to pound Fufu. One of the women even instructed us to call her Mama and offered to bring us chilled water. Have I mentioned yet how insanely friendly the residents are?
Sunday was more low-key. I hung around the house while Kanako and Julie went to church and then went with them to a football (soccer) game played by our very own Moses! There are something like 10 teams in Ho, which is crazy given how small the town is. I'm assuming every able-bodied man is on at least one team. The game was at the police depot and against a team of police recruits. when we approached the depot to get to the field a police officer stopped us. He was friendly but he was also waving his bobby stick around. He asked Julie what the Yevu wanted with the police and we said we were going to the game and he brightened significantly and welcomed us in. Julie explained later that the police go out of their way to protect the Yevu in town (i.e the rich tourists) he was probably just anticipating that we had something to report.
The football game was a blast! I don't think I've ever been to one before. Moses was so happy that we'd come to cheer him on. In the end, though, his team lost 3-0, despite the pep talk Kanako and I gave him during halftime. Given the language barrier our pep talk consisted of repeating "Score more points," and "Kick the ball." But on the same day Ghana's national team beat Gambia 2-0. We listened the radio coverage while watching Moses play :)
The House
VEG houses both the volunteers and the office in one house a little bit outside of the main town. Currently there are five volunteers living here. Kanako- a short term volunteer from Japan studying social business and microfinance in university. Harini- an American financial analyst from Arizona. Julie - a Brazilian journalist with a background in female/youth empowerment. Haraku- a member the Japanese equivalent to the Peace Corps.
The house is rather unapologetically luxurious. I'm a little conflicted about living in a such a wonderful home, but also grateful. Admittedly I'm unsure of the standard of living for the typical resident of Ho. I've only been to the apartments of Moses and Julie and they were both very nice, but I can't say if that represents the norm or not. Our house is a huge place: 5 bedrooms, 3+ bathrooms, office space, living room, dining room, kitchen and another central room that we use to mostly store fridges (just like home!). We've got running water (via a polytank as the sewer infrastructure isn't developed here), electricity and unreliable but existent internet. No air conditioning but it's hardly necessary with all the fans around. It's much more bearable in this house, built to breath, than the stuffy non-air conditioned house Luke and I shared last summer.
We have a massive and beautiful garden/yard full of flowers, an absolutely huge mango tree and even a summer thatch-roofed cabana.
We also have 4 pets: 2 dogs and 2 cats. The dogs are Yevu and Mango and the cats Zkpee (sp) and another Ewe word which is I can't yet pronounce.
VEG employees a full staff to take care of the house and the volunteers: a house manager/landscaper, housekeepers, cooks, laundry lady, driver and security guards. It's very literally a step up from my place in Durham. Not at all what I was expecting, but I am grateful to have it. Soon I'll do a homestay in a nearby village where the standard of living is much lower. I've heard stories about the homestays and I'm honestly glad that I landed in such nice accommodations on my first visit to Africa. There are plenty of other things to get used to without learning to bath in a bucket and sleeping on a bedbug infested straw mattress for two months. Maybe next time.
Ho Basics
After four days in Ho I've come up with a list of Ho quirks that I find particularly endearing.
People here have a tremendous problem pronouncing and remembering v-eye-ola but I've discovered they can master v-ee-ola on the first try. Ironic given how often I've corrected people in the US on the correct pronunciation of my name.
There are goats and chickens everywhere. Once, I even saw a chicken riding on a goat. No lie.
There is no sense of business hours or business days. Banks are open on Saturdays! Markets are open almost always. Though, I'll admit things are less active on Sundays because church is a very big part of the culture.
You cannot pass through a market or public area without the children trailing you and calling Yevu! Yevu! It essentially means white person, but they tend to use it for all non-African looking folk. It's not an insult. It is almost more of a game. They are laughing and giggling as they do it and so are you. Adults will occasionally call out the same and it's
likewise not an insult but just to get your attention. I've run into two other Yevu since I've been in town and only from a distance so it's not like we don't know they're shouting at us.
People here are soft-spoken. I've not heard many Ho residents shout, even when call across a courtyard. When they speak directly to you it's also done in a soft voice. I've only heard yelling from Moses and taxi drivers while driving- road rage is international.
Despite how soft-spoken the people of Ho are, the city is noisy. You are never without at least singing and drum beats. The taxis blare music, the spots (i.e. bars) blast it into the streets, the churches are always swinging with it. Late into the night even I can always hear it in my bedroom and I don't even live in town. This combined with the roar of the birds life makes it difficult to sleep at first.
I'll add some more certainly. I imagine it will be entertaining looking back at this list once I've been here for a couple of months.
People here have a tremendous problem pronouncing and remembering v-eye-ola but I've discovered they can master v-ee-ola on the first try. Ironic given how often I've corrected people in the US on the correct pronunciation of my name.
There are goats and chickens everywhere. Once, I even saw a chicken riding on a goat. No lie.
There is no sense of business hours or business days. Banks are open on Saturdays! Markets are open almost always. Though, I'll admit things are less active on Sundays because church is a very big part of the culture.
You cannot pass through a market or public area without the children trailing you and calling Yevu! Yevu! It essentially means white person, but they tend to use it for all non-African looking folk. It's not an insult. It is almost more of a game. They are laughing and giggling as they do it and so are you. Adults will occasionally call out the same and it's
likewise not an insult but just to get your attention. I've run into two other Yevu since I've been in town and only from a distance so it's not like we don't know they're shouting at us.
People here are soft-spoken. I've not heard many Ho residents shout, even when call across a courtyard. When they speak directly to you it's also done in a soft voice. I've only heard yelling from Moses and taxi drivers while driving- road rage is international.
Despite how soft-spoken the people of Ho are, the city is noisy. You are never without at least singing and drum beats. The taxis blare music, the spots (i.e. bars) blast it into the streets, the churches are always swinging with it. Late into the night even I can always hear it in my bedroom and I don't even live in town. This combined with the roar of the birds life makes it difficult to sleep at first.
I'll add some more certainly. I imagine it will be entertaining looking back at this list once I've been here for a couple of months.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
