The End

We are leaving Ghana today. So crazy to think about. While I am really excited to get home and enjoy being with my loved ones again and everything about winter and Christmas, I do have quite a few things that I am going to miss about being in this little town. Let me just discuss a few of them.

Mornings.

I never thought I would actually love waking up at 5:30 am on a regular basis. But I do. I love it. There is just something so peaceful about waking up just as the sun begins to rise, getting out of bed, unlocking all the doors, opening the courtyard doors wide open, and taking in the morning. Watching the mist floating around the trees, listening to the roosters crowing everywhere (to be fair, this happens throughout the night and the day, not just in the morning). We always have a banana and tea or coffee in the early morning, chat, and then set about chores that we may have to do like laundry, dishes, garbage. But all that is pretty much done by 8! I guess I have always been a morning person at heart, and it is really easy to be a morning person in a town where everyone is up by 6! In fact, I think that people think we are lazy for not getting up at five and being out by 6. Funny right? So, what I am really saying is, I will miss waking up at 530.           

Walks.

Okay, okay I can still go for walks in Canada, I know this. It just will not be quite the same. Yes, I know I have made quite a few comments about the heat here. And no, it is not the most pleasant thing to have it dripping all down your neck constantly. But there is something pretty satisfying about it not even mattering. I mean, I could never just sweat this much and then enter a store in Canada and not get some crazy looks. Here, nobody cares. Granted, we still get looks because we are the only white people, but not because of the sweat! Ok this is about the walks, not the sweat. It is just nice to walk around when lots of other people are outside as well; to pass by the same shops with the ladies that we know and wave to and ask how they are. There is something so comforting about the community here, and I like being a part of it.

Sun.

Again, I know I talk a lot about the heat. And I am so excited to come home with snow on the ground and to be able to wear winter coats and boots. But there is nothing quite like the hot sun searing your skin. It really just makes me a little bit happier every time I step out into the day and feel it. That lasts about fifteen minutes, and then I just long for a bucket of water. Seriously though, the sun just doesn’t hit you in the same way during the winter. So yes, I will miss it.

Rain.

Like the sun, the rain is not exclusive to Asamankese. But the storms are phenomenal. Watching a storm is wonderful, depending on where you are as you watch it. We have been in a few different situations, and I have decided that from the comfort of your own home is the best option. Others include: hanging out under the shelter of the nearest shop you were walking past as it starting to pour (a close runner up), in a stranger’s home waiting to meet someone, at a small restaurant, standing on the side of the road with no shelter trying to get a taxi, or in a tro-tro trying to get home before dark.

People.

The women that we have spent so much time with here really do hold a special place in my heart. They are so genuine, kind and generous. I love how excited they get when we see them around town, and they practice their best English. Just watching them learn and grow and feel accomplished is so beautiful. I am going to miss their huge smiles and funny sayings. I admire their strength so much. I hope that the things I have learned from how they live their lives will have a lasting impact on my life.

Sky.

I love the African sky. There just isn’t anything like it. Paired with the beautiful landscape in Ghana with the greenery and rolling hills and baobab trees, it takes my breath away every time. Ok not literally but it makes driving in a tro tro worth it because you are just driving through constant beauty. It makes me feel really small when the expanse of sky is so huge and visible. Not in a bad, ‘insignificant’ way, though; in a way that makes me feel like I am part of something way bigger than I can even realize.

Alright well, I am signing off. There is so much more to tell about this trip, I hope I can remember it all when I eventually talk about it with everyone!

Love.

Tasks and Tro Tros

A lot of people are wondering what I am actually doing here, so I wanted to talk about my actual project for a bit. The vision has been changed somewhat, but I am pretty excited about the direction it is going. Initially I was going to be doing a lot of research via surveys and observations, and at the end of this time period I would write up all of my findings in a comprehensive manner. I still did the research, but my final project is going to look a little different. Now I am writing a business plan for our program. Heather and I are working together to create a detailed manual that outlines the steps that are necessary to continue and improve this project in the long run. Currently we offer only simple English literacy skills for the women, but we hope to expand the program to include other classes that will differentiate them in the marketplace. Most of these women are selling things that can be found anywhere; they have no advantage over the other lady selling bananas for the exact same price. They have no strategy to attract customers or grow their businesses. The result is stagnant development and the inability to pay for simple things like their children’s school fees or health insurance.

The classes that we plan to offer would be modeled after a program that is already being run in Accra by our friends Mike and Suzanne, with whom we spent a weekend with up in the mountains at their house. They expressed to us how important it is for the women to be motivated and to feel a sense of ownership for the courses. Then they are more dedicated to the cause and work harder to achieve big things. This gave us a lot to think about. Really we have been thinking about tons lately. I am pretty nervous because a business plan entails a lot of work, and I just want it to be really good because it will hopefully be used in the future. So I am nervous but really excited at the same time and things are going well so far. I just believe in sustainable development and this seems to be a really good way to start it here in Asamankese. Our goal is to have it pretty much run by Ghanaians for Ghanaians. In some ways I feel like we are being too optimistic, but in others I can see how practical it really could be. It will just take time for the program to actually look like what we envision, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Moving on to some lighter subject matter: another weekend road trip! The biggest journey we have undertaken yet. I am not sure if I have said this before, but every tro-tro has its own story. It’s true! Something substantial happens to us on every tro-tro ride we go on. And our journey this past weekend involved 3 tro-tro’s. That’s right, 10.5 hours to our destination. We left our house at 6 am and arrived at 4:30 pm. More to the point, let me tell you a little story about each of these 3 tro-tro’s:

1. The first one we went out on was a minibus, so it can really fit 11 passengers and the driver. The advantage of the minibus is that if you are lucky, you actually get enough space for yourself so the whole side of your body is not pressing up against someone else’s side body. Really, we never get to take the minibus, so Heather and I thought we had scored big. We were even in the front row and there was a convenient ledge in front of us to put our sacks. Boy were we fooled. Suddenly, right as we were about to leave, 2 extra people piled into OUR ROW. 5 people on a 3 person bench. It was a fun 2 hours to say the least. The 2 highlights: when we were stopped at a police barrier and the police pointed out that he was only supposed to have 11 and then laughed heartily as we drove past; every time Heather and I would get our hopes up because someone would get off the tro-tro, only to have them smashed because 2 minutes later another person came on. At one point there was someone facing backwards sitting on the ledge I previously referred to, and then 5 of us on the seats. Really good.
2. Our next lag was taken on a large bus that can seat 26 people. Much more squished. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was pretty regular. Until halfway through the trip when all of a sudden a man in the row in front of me produced a chicken from somewhere under his seat and passed it to the woman sitting behind him (she was at the opposite end of my row). I guess she dropped it? Oh yeah, did I mention it was alive and squawking? Because it was. I hope that you can see the look of horror that was imprinted on my face when the chicken was passed down the row to the man who was sitting directly beside me. Remember when I told you we were in super close quarters? The chicken was almost on my lap. Trying to flap its wings. The man then proceeded to tie up the chicken with some sort of cloth, and then stuff it into a plastic bag, and pass it back to the woman. She put it in her lap and there it stayed the rest of the ride. Oh man.
3. The last tro-tro took a while to fill up because we were going to a remote place. Yes, contrary to popular belief, tro-tros do not leave at scheduled times, but when they are full. So you may leave 30 minutes after you get to the station, or 3 hours. Anyways this one was not full yet so I thought we would be there a while. Then to my shock (and delight) we left before it filled! Yay! More breathing space and earlier arrival time! My delight was short lived. We pulled over to a gas station and 5 barrels of what smelled like oil were put into the van. This meant all the passengers were moved in to the front 2 rows to make room for the barrels. Furthermore, at the police barrier, we got stopped for half an hour because the driver was trying to sneak the oil without paying taxes or something along those lines… surprises always happen on tro-tros. You just have to learn to go with it.

So after the long journey, we arrived at a paradise that was truly away from it all. Just simple living on the beach. Nothing too fancy, but clean and peaceful. We got to see baby turtles shuffle their way to the sea right after they hatched (amazing!) and watch the tide come in and out. There was also an amazing storm that we experienced while eating lunch in an outdoor dining room… we got soaked but it was kind of nice to feel cold for once!

Anyways we repeated the long tro-tro journey yesterday and now we are home safe and sound. On to another week of work! I am excited to continue working on my project… my goal is to have it completely finished by December 8, because we are traveling from the 9^th-16^th and I don’t want to have to worry about it over Christmas.

Love

Sunrise on the beach.

One of 42 little guys who made their way into the vast ocean.

O Come Let Us Adore Him

Call me crazy, but I love Christmastime. Everything just feels so warm and cozy, the best food is out, and people do nicer things for one another. Not to mention the cheesy decorations everywhere and the bad music constantly on the radio. Far too many Jessica Simpson covers of every Christmas carol you can imagine, am I right? Although I realize that these things are hyped up way too much, and department store displays might be premature (September, Dollarama, really?), I too, indulge in the earlier celebrations of Christmas. I am guilty of dragging the season out much longer than is really necessary. Really though, from the end of fall to December, what is there to look forward to? November is a dreary month, and I don’t think it really harms anything to spice it up a little with some cheery festive tunes. Yes, I love to play Christmas music starting November 1^st. I think that maybe even last year my roommate Sarah and I started in October? Maybe not. Regardless, it gets me excited and adds some extra ‘pep to my step’ if you will. I hadn’t thought about this that much while I have been in Ghana, because it feels like the farthest thing from Christmas here: hot weather, thunderstorms, palm trees, dusty roads. After a conversation with my sister Anna on Sunday, however, I was reminded of the glory that I was semi missing out on. She had already begun the listening process, and was looking to expand her playlist of holiday hits. This saddened me for a while, but I quickly forgot about it because again, I am not reminded of the season very often while I am here. Everything changed when to my delight, as I was sitting in observing a grade ten class; I could hear children belting out “O Come Let Us Adore Him” somewhere else in the school. Yes my friends, even in Africa they begin the Christmas carols prematurely.

Heather and I have been at this school all week (in Obuasi), observing classes and taking notes on teachers. We are specifically noting the differences between this privately run school and the public government-funded school in Asamankese. Let me tell you, the differences are quite drastic. The odd thing is that at first I thought it must be because they use different curriculum, and that is why the students receive a better education. Then on Thursday we were speaking with the headmaster and found out that they get their curriculum from the Ministry of Education in Ghana. So it is the same as the public school! The only difference is who runs the school. With a private school, there is the owner, or proprietor, who pays the salaries and hires all the teachers. The public school is not watched very closely, and the teachers are freer to do as they wish. The private school, however, has one person running the show that carefully selects the teachers and makes sure that they come on time and stay until the end of the school day. The change in the atmosphere that this creates is extreme. Students are better behaved, lessons have structure and flow to them, and real learning actually seems to be taking place. Students are not afraid to ask questions because their teachers are not arrogant. They push themselves and study and copy out notes during free periods. Teachers correct errors kindly and politely, not making a fool of the student, but patiently guiding them along. There are still some flaws in the system, but this way of implementing education actually gives me hope for the future of Ghana and what the next generation will accomplish. I believe that education is at the basic level what really transforms a society, and it is so promising to me that solid education really does exist here.

As an addendum to my previous post I wanted to mention a few things about fair trade again. I was not saying that I am giving up on eating only fair trade chocolate or that everyone else should stop buying fair trade. I just want myself and others to actually think about what we are doing and what more we can do instead of simply choosing the easiest option. Maybe to change the government, and how they operate, the best way is for everyone to buy fair trade so that they will see the profits in implementing better working standards. If big companies like Cadbury and Hershey are only buying fair trade cocoa, it might make a substantial impact. If that is the case, great, and everyone should buy fair trade. I just think that it is very important for us to research the causes that we are supporting and to not just throw money at a problem, hoping that it goes away. As I said, I want to be intentional about my actions and believe in what I do, and I hope that this will be a goal for others also.

P.S. You should check out the comment on my last entry: a response and an interesting way to understand fair trade.

Does buying fair trade ‘stick it to the man’ or just hurt the small farmer that is trying to survive?

            I have this thing with cocoa. About 60-70% of the whole world’s cocoa supply comes from West Africa. Apparently the majority of that cocoa is farmed by underpaid workers or child slaves living in horrible conditions. The fact that something like this is still going on in the 21^st century and we support it by buying Nestle chocolate bars seemed outrageous to me when I first heard about it in January. It was enough to get me to stop eating chocolate that was not fair trade. My logic was as follows, the small bit of control I have is over my own actions and my own purchases, so I could do my part by buying fair trade. It has been about ten months now, and after living in Ghana for a month, discussing cocoa farms a lot, and listening to what people here have to say, my mind has perhaps been changed (sorry Ben!).

            Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire are the largest cocoa producing countries in the world. Perfect for me then, to live in Ghana and to be able to do a little bit of first hand research on an issue that is near and dear to my heart. What I have learned is that cocoa production here is completely controlled by the government. Each town has a central cocoa station and farmers can only sell their beans to them. The government buys the beans from the farmers at a low price, brings it into factories to refine and package, and then sells the powder to make a huge profit. Now my question is, by not buying cocoa that was farmed in Africa, am I really making it harder for the corrupt government, who will evidently always find a way to profit from the less fortunate, or am I really just depriving the small farmer of the little that they had to feed their family?

            Furthermore, I have yet to see a giant cocoa farm with underpaid workers in Ghana. Yes, the children do work on the farm. Yes, they may be forced to and not make any money. But it is a family business and they are helping out their parents. Is it really all the different from our parents who worked in the orchard or our friends who help milk the cows on the weekend? Not from my point of view. Yes they are younger than we may like or agree with, but it is also a different culture and way of life. I do not know if I can really look down my nose at that. Western standards cannot always be simply applied to non-Western societies. Life is much more complex than that.

            Ok, so you may be thinking “This is just an easy way out so she can eat the good part of Dairy Queen ice cream cake again.” But truly it is not. I am not going to give it up just yet. Everything I have told you about is based on what I have actually seen and different people I have spoken with, but there is so much more to learn. I want to find out where those so-called slave farms are, and what the workers actually think of their jobs. I think that all too often I see a situation as sub-standard with my Western standard goggles on. I do not take the time to dig deeper and obtain the necessary context to see the situation clearly. One cannot pick a single thing out of an environment and evaluate it from that angle when so many issues are so complex and interwoven with one another.

            Even if all the farms in Ghana were ‘fair-trade certified’, the government would still be controlling profits and wages. They would still find some way to exploit and take advantage of the farms. I just don’t think that the solution lies in charging farms a large fee to obtain the certification. It could easily turn into a situation where the big, rich farmers are able to bribe and pay for certification, while the small farmers who cannot afford this, and really need the sales, are left behind in the dust. What I am really trying to get at here is that when the government seems to be the root issues, maybe we should try to do something about that, rather than buying fair trade so we feel better about ourselves.

            I must admit that my abstaining from chocolate was mostly because it was all I really wanted to do. I knew that it is definitely not the solution to the problem at hand, but it was the easy way to feel like I was at least making a small difference. Because a small difference is still something right? Wrong. Not when it is with the wrong attitude. Deep down I knew the truth. I could devote my spare time, even my life to a cause, trying to influence the government and strive to get check and balances put in place, or I could just do without the warm chocolate brownie. Easier choice = no brownie. In my head, buying fair trade justifies taking no other action. This is a severely flawed and dangerous mindset, which I have been made painfully aware of. I told myself that I would stop eating that chocolate until I really found out what kind of action I would take. Now ten months later I still have not actively searched for a solution. Embarrassing to admit, yes; completely honest, yes; wholly necessary, absolutely. I thought that after this long of sticking to a principle so strictly I would feel like I have accomplished something, but now I realize all I’ve really accomplished is 10 months of apathy.  I’m not sure what the next step is, but I know it must be intentional.

A cocoa tree on the farm I visited.

 My cocoa beans in the sun!

“What time will we leave?” “Mmm… When the sun shines, then we go.”

I have learned that Ghana time is different than my time. I know that everyone says that there is time, and then there is African time. But I experienced this on a much larger scale on Friday and Saturday. Friday we went to Accra Mall for a few hours, because we needed some supplies for teaching, and other stuff for our house that you cannot get in Asamankese. Anyways on the way home we took a taxi to the crazy crazy tro-tro station. It’s called ‘Circle’ because it is on the corner of a huge roundabout in town. We had been there once before, but Mr. Anim-Addo was with us and he could easily navigate through the maze of hundreds of tro-tros going to various towns all over the region. This time, it was Heather and I versus the world. Oh man was it ever overwhelming. Here’s the thing, it’s not your typical bus station per se. There are no signs pointing you in the direction of your ‘platform’ or a huge board detailing which bus leaves at which time. Some tro-tros have signs on the top of them that say which town they are going to, but mostly everyone just knows where they are going so they don’t need signs. We, not being native to the country and area, have no idea where stations are. We may have gotten lost in a sea of tro-tros, vendors, stalls, and taxis. Heather managed to keep her head about her and just kept asking people for our town name, and with continuous pointing, we finally got there. So we paid our fee (2.20 Ghana Cedis, or roughly $1.5) and got on the tro-tro. And proceeded to wait in the steamy van (by this time it was 3 in the afternoon) for an hour. An hour. A part of me thinks it would have been better had we known it would be an hour. This was one of those times where you think you could leave in 5 minutes, which turns into 15, and so on and so on. So, that was one experience with Ghanaian time.

The next one comes with Auntie Jo. So I was very excited to see a cocoa farm in action on Saturday, I have never seen a cocoa tree before and for some reason I am just super interested. Saturday morning around seven Auntie Jo came into our house to say good morning, so I asked what time we would be going to the cocoa farm. Her answer? “Mmmm, when the sun shines, then we go.” Really Auntie Jo? When the sun shines? It’s already shining as far as I am concerned, it has risen into the sky… So we left at 9. Lesson learned: always be ready to leave your house at a moment's notice.

Monday I went for a very long walking tour around the town. I generally know the layout from going to the market and trips to Accra, but I haven’t weaved in and out of every street. Part of my job is to make a directory of all the banks and loan companies in Asamankese, so I began by taking picture of all of the locations and making a primitive map with their names on it. Needless to say, many things can happen to you on one walk here. Let me just list a few:

• Random guy insisting on walking with me for about 20 minutes down the street, asking for my phone number, asking if I wanted him to buy me a lollipop, and proceeding to sing me the song Lollipop. Worst. Ever.
• Discovering that stopping every few minutes and taking a picture of a building is very odd in Asamankese and everyone will point and stare and laugh at you if you choose to do so.
• Women in the market helping you find sweet potatoes (or ntomo), to the point of actually leading you out of the market, down and across the street to a vendor quite far away. Success.
• Most women really do like it if you speak English with their daughters so that they can have the practice. I was trying to speak some Twi to obtain groundnut paste (natural peanut butter), but I was told “No, speak English with her.”

I began my individual interviews with the women from our classes yesterday and for the most part they are going really well. It is so interesting to hear more details about their lives and to get a bit off topic. It is also cool to see the trends and form ideas about what the main issues are here. One thing I have noticed is a stark difference in levels of wealth. Some women seem to be dirt poor with no husband and 5 children to take care of. They might make 2 Cedis a week and they need to feed everyone and send everyone to school. The numbers just do not really add up. I am not sure how they manage, but they say they do. I also feel a little bit awkward asking them such blunt questions like “How much money do you make?” or “Do you have a bank account?” or “If you do not have a bank account, where do you keep your money?” (I always get lots of giggles with that question). Really, most of them don’t have bank accounts, because there would be no point. They put the minuscule amounts that they make right into their purse because they will have to spend it soon enough on something else. My heart is breaking for these women, especially because with their joyful demeanor you would never know that this struggle plagues them each day.

On another completely different note, Heather and I head out to the mountains this weekend. It is supposed to be a bit colder there so we’re bringing sweaters! Yes, this is wildly exciting to me, if you can imagine. So I will leave you with another attempt at a bullet list, because there are many more things I want to tell you about but time is of the essence I suppose.

• I have created a document titled ‘useful things Heather tells me that I will want in the future’ because Heather continuously tells me about fabulous places I must go or things to do and I know once we leave I will immediately forget them all.
• Each night we have a bit of a tradition of Trivial Pursuit and Tea Time. Not the best title but it is pretty self explanatory. We will have all the cards memorized by the end of this trip. I now know who Kevin Keegan is, so my IQ is already rising. Yes, we do get stuck at the end of the game on the orange piece (sports) and resort to giving mad clues.
• New favourite snack: banana with groundnut paste. The bananas are small and delightful and the groundnut paste is just so nutty. Mmm.
• You should never give your phone number out when living in a foreign country such as Ghana. Even if it is to the nice girl that you pass by every day on the way to the market. I know this. I have gotten 4 phone calls from boys since then. One of which, I might add, was at 6:10 in the morning! Probably my biggest mistake since coming here.
• The kindness of people still amazes me. Example: we got out of a cab, walked across the street, down a little bit, and got on a tro tro. A lady came up to the window of the tro tro we were on because she had picked up the nickel that Heather had dropped when getting out of the cab. She had followed us and given it back. Yeah. Insanity. She would not take it when Heather offered it to her.
• Our house got hit by lightning today. We freaked out. There was the loudest popping/crashing/exploding sort of sound, our bedroom light bulb went out, and I screamed. Heather screamed. Nothing else happened.

Ok lengthy, yes, but what else did you expect? I have not been one known to keep my stories short and to the point. I blab on until the whole point of the story is lost. But I hope that the trees are beautiful and the pumpkins are orange and the air is crisp.

Love