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

Awake My Soul

So I may have mentioned Mumford & Sons already (the band), but now I am going to semi-force a song upon you. It is hard for me to pick a favourite song by them, but this is up there for me. And since I have not been particularly inspired this week for a new post about our life (even though a lot has happened), I will leave you with this taste of aural beauty. I also recommend listening the song as you read the lyrics.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHWsKTSdS74
(might not be the best quality, I couldn't watch the whole thing because of our internet)


Awake My Soul - Mumford & Sons

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free
Har har, har har, har har, har har

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker
Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker
You were made to meet your maker

 

I tried to capture the sky. Gorgeous.

"Intense..." "Just like camping!" thanks Heather

Our program has really been established now and we have somewhat of a routine. Heather looks after the larger level 2 class and I look after the small level 1 class. My class moved into the kindergarten building which is still on the church premises. I had such a surreal experience with that though. Here we were, in a dimly lit room, with tiny tables and tiny chairs fit for 4 or 5 year-olds, but the women just sat in them with no complaining or moving around. They couldn’t have been very comfortable but learning is so much more important to them. Then, it started raining so hard on the tin roof that you could barely hear the teacher. I thought we might just pause class for a while until it let up. Auntie Julie (the teacher) kept teaching, however, and the ladies kept their attention as though they couldn’t hear anything else. And then it started to rain even harder. I could not hear a word she was saying. Furthermore, there were leaks in the roof, so some of the ladies were getting dripped on. They just nonchalantly moved their books over so they wouldn’t get wet and didn’t make a fuss or anything. I couldn’t help compare it to a classroom in Canada. Maybe younger kids can be excused for bad behaviour and attention span because of their age, but even in university students don’t put the same amount of effort into our studies. Heather and I were talking and if the power went out for 5 minutes, our profs would probably cancel the rest of class, even though it came back on ten minutes later. It’s just a different world.

I am getting pretty excited about the program. I know that my part isn’t  really the literacy program, but I love helping out and interacting with the women. I have built some relationships and next week I will begin interviewing them about their trades and their jobs. It is honestly just such a cool way to learn. I just hear some sort of new information every day. Like the other day I found out that health insurance for the year in Ghana is 14 cedis, or around 11$. Then they don’t have to pay for doctor visits or medication. The sad thing is that many people cannot afford that seemingly miniscule amount, so when they do get sick, they somehow have to pay the 50 cedi or more for whatever treatment they need. I just want to find out who doesn’t have health insurance and buy it for them! Gah!

Ok another thing I learned is that at the one school there are too many kids so half of them come from 7-12 and half from 12-5. We were walking home from class and like 15 kids were following us on their way home. They walk about 5 miles to school every day. That’s pretty far, especially for a young child about 7 or 8 walking on a busy road with no sidewalk. My mom would have a heart attack if I did that when I was that age. But there is no other choice for these kids really.

Did I ever mention that we met two British boys (Dan and Max) whilst in Kokrobite? We got to talking, a lot about development, and found out that they are filming a documentary about volunteers in Ghana. They actually asked us if they could interview us for their film. We didn’t think anything would really come of it, but Monday night Dan called me and said “so how does Wednesday work for you?”. So they came all the way from Accra (2.5 hour tro tro ride) to our small town of Asamankese. We asked the ladies in the class before they came if it would be ok, and they all got really excited. When we arrived with them on Wednesday, all the ladies were in nice clothes and a few of them had gotten their hair done for the occasion. It was really endearing. They did really well though, concentrating hard on their studies even though they knew there was a camera watching them. I know it’s just a small documentary, but it will still be cool to send to the women so they can see themselves in a real movie. My favourite part was that they interviewed one student, Alberta. They asked her about how the program was affecting her after 2 weeks and what she thought of it. Hearing directly how she is benefiting was so promising. She said she can already see how they are improving and the new things they are learning (like past participle). Dan also asked her what she would think if the program continued all year. She said “like school? I think everyone would love that.” That is mine and Heather’s big goal, we’ve discussed it a bunch of times. Mostly because we aren’t even the actual teachers, we just provide some capital, lesson plans (Heather does that), and other teaching materials. We also mark the workbooks and make sure classes run smoothly. The teachers ask us questions from time to time. But really we would love to see that if we left money here, they could continue the program in January when we aren’t here. We still have to figure out the logistics of it all, but that is our dream.

These blogs just seems to get out of hand. I start typing and I just keep going and I don’t even feel like I scratch the surface of telling you about what is happening here. Oh well, all I can do is try right. Today we are going to meet an American girl who is also living in Asamankese, working for an organization called Flower that works to empower women. So that will be interesting and good to talk to someone new. Saturday is looking to be a pretty eventful day. I am going to go see a cocoa farm! Many of you know that this is a soft spot for me and holds a lot of interest, so I will get to see if there are indeed child slaves working there. Although I’m pretty sure there won’t be because it won’t be one of those massive farms. Regardless, I am excited to see the process, maybe buy some cocoa beans and grind them with a mortar and pestle. Yeah, I am that hardcore. Also on Saturday Belinda is going to show us how to make donuts. And yes I do realize that this is possible to do in Canada. But it’s somehow still cooler in Ghana right? At 4 on Saturday on of our students, Juliana K, is coming for extra help. Really we are going to go over Wednesday’s lesson. She can never come on Wednesdays because she has to go to Accra to purchase her fish to sell in the market here in Asamankese. Saturday is full, and I love full days. I’m pumped.

So it’s killing me that I can’t just add pictures that correspond to each of my stories. At the internet café, I can only upload one picture each time and it takes 15 minutes to do so. But hopefully our internet situation will improve soon and I can share with you some visual aids of what my life is like here. A picture is worth a thousand words, after all. Alright, shout out to everyone who is in midterms… not the best, sorry about your luck, but study hard! It is your second last semester, after all. Also I thought I was missing out on a lot because people are getting engaged and married while I am gone, but those things seem to pale a bit in comparison because Heather’s sister went into labour last night. New niece = winner. Until next time…

Sun, Sand, and Shoprite

Wow, a lot has happened even in 4 or 5 days. It’s funny, each individual day seems to hold a weeks worth of information and new experiences. I am never really prepared for what it ends up bringing. I guess my new motto should be ‘expect the unexpected’. That just seems so cliché though.

I will start at the beginning, with a general overview of our weekend and the events that transpired. We set out on Thursday morning for our beach ‘resort’ getaway. We took the 3 hour tro-tro ride to Accra and from there went to a small village called Kokrobite. Turns out Accra isn’t actually set on the ocean, its more inland.

So we arrived, dusty and sweaty, to the beautiful sight that the ocean almost always is. I’m not sure, but I always take such comfort in watching the waves come in and out, constant and true at every shoreline they touch. So although I do not live on or anywhere near the ocean, it felt like a bit of home halfway across the world. The beach is familiar. What wasn’t so familiar was the small commune of Rastas planted just outside the gate of our abode. But I will get more into that later. Lets just say we drank in the view and felt the delicious sea breeze on our skin and knew this was exactly what we needed.

On Friday our friend, Michael Duah, came to visit us. His family actually lives in Ghana, in a town called Kasoa not too far from Kokrobite. We know him because he goes to Redeemer with us in Canada. Lucky for us he has been in Ghana since May and came out to see us in Asamankese last week and came to visit us again. So we hung out all day, watched the drum show that they have every Friday night, and went to bed (much earlier than all the other expats, I might add).

Saturday Duah came back to visit and take us out for a bit. We saw the inside of a grocery store! Shoprite, it was called. Who knew that Nutella was available in Ghana? Not I, that’s for sure. Only for 18 Cedi, no less (about $15). So that was interesting. We got to see a part of Ghana that we hadn’t really gotten a chance to yet. The more wealthy parts I would say. Huge houses that sit atop huge hills, and a beautifully paved toll highway with few potholes. I felt a world away from Asamankese with its few paved main roads and rocky dirt paths used as roads. We also got to see the church and new school that Duah’s father is building, so that was pretty cool.

We left on Sunday, hoping to avoid the chaos that might ensue in Accra because there was a Ghana football match that afternoon. The actual match was in Kumasi, but I guess everyone watches it and gets right into it, so riots can break out in Accra as well.

Now we are back in our guest house, back in the swing of things and it’s oddly comforting to have a home away from home to come back to, with familiar faces that we know.

Throughout this overview I have been dying to offer small anecdotes of details of what happened, but for ease of reading I have decided to attempt the bulleted list approach once again. I will try to go in order of sequence.

• I am not sure if I will ever get used to the blatant relieving of oneself on the side of the road here. Especially the school boys who literally reach up their shorts to arrange themselves rather than using the zipper. Do they know it could be easier?
• I have conceded to the sad truth that I will be generally filthy until I go home and have a good long shower. Even after I scrub and scrub, I still feel like there is a layer of dirt permanently etched on my skin. Tro-tro rides do not help this cause very much. I made the mistake of wearing a white shirt… the outside of which is just caked in dusty dirt. Mmmm.
• Our ‘resort’ consisted of a collection of tiki huts. Ours, luxuriously, had a washroom attached to it. An outdoor washroom. No lie, there was no ceiling. Furthermore, the shower (which was a pipe that came over the wall) was about 3 feet away from the toilet, in the same area, nothing dividing it. So if you take a shower, the toilet gets soaked. It was interesting to say the least. Also it may sound really earthy and exciting, but it isn’t the best in the pitch black of night when ants litter the toilet seat and you can’t really see what is going on.
• The bar in the center of the tiki huts started playing music at 8 in the morning and continued until about 2 or 3 in the morning. I haven’t listened to that much consecutive Bob Marley in a long time. Some other treats were Ja Rule, Tupac, and my favourite which was a song that went “Obama, Obama, Barak, Obama” over and over again. What a gem.
• Rastas smoke a lot of marijuana. A lot. We were made painfully aware of this fact when we would sit atop the lounge looking out at the ocean and wafts of the scent would constantly drift toward us. All they did all day was smoke, drum, and try to sell their overpriced goods to unsuspecting tourists. Ok that is a huge generalization of Rastas, but that is what I experienced.
• Duah visiting us was a huge blessing. It was so nice to see a familiar face and hear first hand of his honest opinion about his country, what he thought of fufu, and to talk about Redeemer. He seemed to genuinely care and wanted to make sure we had a good time in Ghana, which was really comforting. Also, I tried this stuff called fan milk, purchased from someone on the side of the road. It’s basically a vanilla milkshake in a bag. Like it used to be ice cream but since its so hot all the time, its just cold liquid deliciousness. You just bite a hole in the bag and suck it out, like you do with the bags of water here. Best thing ever, and now it is all I can do to restrain myself from buying one every day.
• The last thing I wanted to talk about was the fishing boats that were on the beach. It was really cool to watch. Every morning a boat would go out and drop fishing nets. Then everyone, men, women, and children, would help pull the nets in. They all worked together beforehand too, organizing and untangling the nets. Then when all the fish came, the kids would pick up the small ones that escaped from the net and the ladies would put them in their big bowls on their heads and prepare them for smoking. It was really cool to see everyone doing their part and taking their fair share to live off of. Inspiring, even.

So now it’s already Wednesday and so much more has happened but again I will just post this blog now and try to keep up better! Also, remember that time I made bullet points but they were really just paragraphs? My bad. 

"Everyone in Ghana loves Weezy"

Every once in a while at night we hang out with Belinda and Kwaiku who work for their grandmother on the compound that we are living in. We live in a guest house on the property of a lady we call “Auntie Jo”. Older women are usually referred to as Auntie here. Anyways we play music that we brought for Belinda and Kwaiku and see if they like it or know it. I, of course, being a no-so-secret Lil Wayne fan (guilty pleasure artist) decided it was fitting (Kwaiku loves Jay-Z and other rappers…) so I started up some Lil Wayne (a.k.a. Weezy). Kwaiku immediately recognized it and said “Weezy! Everyone in Ghana loves Weezy!” This was great news for me to hear. P.S. Not really sure if it is Wheezy or Weezy. I don’t think it really matters too much… Just saying.

Other music that I am listening to on a consistent basis here is A Fine Frenzy – One Cell in the Sea. Two of the songs on it I have loved for a while but I only recently started listening to the whole album start to finish. I love it. Ray Lamontagne is a classic, and Mumford & Sons is a mutual love between Heather and I so they get a lot of play time. It makes me sad that I am missing out on three months of discovering new music (one of my favourite pastimes). I will have lots to catch up on when I get home!

We began the literacy classes with the ladies on Tuesday. It really rejuvenated my spirit because it was so interesting to hear all of their stories and why they want to be able to speak/read/write English. Many of their children are in school and come home speaking English but they cannot respond to them so their kids laugh at them. Almost all of them sell things whether in shops, on the road, or in the market, so when people come that only know English and no Twi, they cannot sell their goods or communicate how much things cost. Again, the English speaking people laugh at them. The freedom to travel around anywhere they want to go is also a big motivator for the women. Even in Ghana the official language is English so there are some areas that do not speak Twi. There are many more specific, heartbreaking stories but that is the summary. It was refreshing because they all are good humoured, bright, and eager to learn. I was so encouraged by their passion to learn.

Have I mentioned the generosity here? We have already been given gifts of bananas, pineapples, and papayas. The lady who brought us pineapple got them from Accra, which is a 3 hour tro-tro ride. I have no idea how to express my gratitude to them except to say thank you very much in their language. It does not seem sufficient, but I have nothing else to offer them! Or at least I have not thought of anything yet.

One of my challenges while I am here is to love everyone. It might seem like it would be easier to do when in Africa, however frustrations still come about with people and different cultures. Anyways I love the book of Romans and especially Romans 12. I want to leave you with Romans 12: 9-10.

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.”

There is so much more goodness after that, really I want to write the whole chapter, but attention spans are getting shorter and shorter these days I expect. Yeah, no bullet list today. Maybe I will have some short events to describe after this weekend! Heather and I are heading out of this village into a bit more of civilization and the beach! We are going to Kokrobite. It took me a while to learn how to say it, trust me. Anyways, until next time.

Awesome thing: Clean laundry. No matter where you are. It’s always awesome (but more than ever when you washed each item by hand). Ok maybe not the folding part so much. But you get the idea.

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving!

 

(my finished laundry)

Also I wrote this last Tuesday and didn't have internet until now... hence why some of this may seem very out of date. Love!

The Rains Down in Africa

Ghana is hot.

Knowing this, maybe I should have brought more simple cotton clothes. I have worn the same 3 skirts every day so far. I throw my one dress on whenever I get home and I know we are not going to leave the house again. Essentially, I brought too many clothes, thinking that I might, on the off chance, actually want to look stylish. False. I have a small amount of hope that I will get used to the heat and maybe then I will want to wear my cool new cotton pants I got super cheap at French Connection. Mostly I know that the first time I will wear them will be on the plane ride home. I have accepted my fate.

More on the weather. It is actually beautiful in the mornings before 9 am. Breezy and not too hot. However, between the hours of 9 and 3 the sun breaks through the clouds and makes me sweat right through my clothes. Gross, I know, too much information, perhaps, but c’est la vie. After 3 it starts to cool down again, to about 25 degrees. The humidity lingers though. The sun sets at about 6. Which makes for a long night but everyone goes to bed at 9 ish and gets up around 5. Such a different life, I have not quite adjusted. We usually go to bed around 10 and get up at 7. 9 hours of sleep… hmm... maybe sleeping too much?

Ok so the whole point of me explaining the weather to you was to tell you a story. The clouds come and go at a rapid pace here, it continuously looks like it is going to rain and then fails to. One blessed day however, the heavens released their splendor and we got a thunderstorm. Oh glorious pouring rain. Naturally, we stood outside in the courtyard and got soaked to the skin. It felt so good you don’t even know. It felt like God was literally washing away our frustrations and anxieties away with every drop. Beauty.

Heather and I have been to the market three times this week. Each time is a unique experience. Mondays and Thursdays are market days. This is code for insanely busy and loud. Initially I thought this meant that the market was only open Mondays and Thursdays. Not true, it’s open every other day as well. So you can get everything you need any day. I guess there are a greater variety of vendors on market days.  So part of my job while I am here is to interview the ladies selling goods at the market. For some reason, I naively thought that this would be a simple task. I sort of pictured a farmer’s market in Canada, but a bit more hectic. Again, I was very mistaken. Everything is so loud and crazy the first time I went I was so overwhelmed because I could see no method to the madness, any organization, or way to navigate. Inside I was panicking, how was I to find these women, let alone take fifteen minutes of their time to do my silly questionnaire that they probably will not appreciate? After going a couple of more times, my thoughts have settled. I have time here to learn where everything is in the market and to meet the ladies. I just won’t be asking them any probing questions my first few weeks here.

Oops, so much for bullet points. Here are a few simple things:

-          Men walk around with machetes all the time and it is completely fine so just stay cool and stop staring…

-          I suck at pounding Fufu. It’s tiring!

-          I am also the worst at mashing tomatoes with a mortar and pestle. Everyone straight up laughed at me. Nbd.

-          It is helpful to have a boyfriend back home and proof of it because everyone asks you and if you say no they inevitably think its ok to suggest that you marry someone from their country.

-          Women here love gold earrings that have words on them such as “Nike” or “Hot Girl”

-          Handkerchiefs are legit to wipe sweat off your face. That’s how everyone does it. (This is in contrast to handkerchiefs being used in place of tissues for blowing your nose. Not legit.)

-          Listening to Lauryn Hill seems so much more fitting when you are in Africa

Alright that’s all for now. Much love!

Awesome thing: blasting The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (or some other classic late 90’s album) and still knowing all of the words.

In the Sun

Ok where on earth do I begin?

We do not have steady internet out here so that is why my first post isn’t until now. Honestly I wish I could have written from the first day because I feel like so much has happened already that I want to write about but now there will just be no time slash long blog entries are boring to read!

So I found out that really we are going to be here for 12 weeks. I could have sworn it was 13, but call me a liar. We start with English classes for the women on Tuesday (Oct. 5).

We arrived in Accra, the capital of Ghana, on Saturday night. Dr. Ashun (the coordinating professor for the project) took us to a guest house to stay the night. We slept from 11 to 11. It took a while to get used to the time change, but we skipped church. I know, heathens. But church starts at 7:30, which means not enough sleep after being awake for more than 24 consecutive hours. Yes, I don’t feel like doing the exact math. But I did not manage to sleep on the plane. Worst. Ok so more to the point, when we woke up we could here singing from the church down the street. It was pretty cool. Mostly because the church is not very close and it was so loud.

We finally reach our new home Sunday afternoon. Asamankese is a town about 70 km outside of Accra. It took us about 2 hours to get there from our guest house which was outside of town so we didn’t have to deal with much traffic which was really nice.

Since we have been here, there have been many events that are worth mentioning, and I will list them so as to make this simpler to read:

-          Being presented at the front of the church the first day we got here to meet all the ladies and having a long speech said about us and what we will be doing. (We sat at the front of the sanctuary in a row of 4 chairs… felt a false sense of importance.)

-          Going to the crazy busy market on Monday and constantly hearing “Obruni, Obruni!” (which means white person), and not fully understanding how to navigate around the numerous vendors with stalls and the other ladies that had their goods balanced on their heads. It looks as though they are one with the large tower on their head, how smoothly they move and yet nothing budges.

-           Going to the local Presbyterian primary school which is home to about 500 students between the ages of 5 and 15. They wear blue uniforms and have an assembly each morning where they sing songs. It was a bit of an oxy moron because it was beautiful to see the children and hear them singing hymns with the brilliant sun shining and feeling the breeze, but the school buildings are battered and the teachers carry around sticks to discipline the kids and there is not much organization of the classes or lessons.

-          Being interviewed and counted for the Ghanaian census. No word of a lie. We sat with two people that were official counters as they asked us questions like “How long have you lived in Ghana?” 2 days. “How old are you?” 21. “Are you married?” No. Followed by fits of laughter… But seriously, it took half an hour. At like 9 o’clock at night. It was quite the experience to say the least.

-          Traveling back to Accra via tro-tro. This is essentially a van filled with 23 people in it. At first I thought I might die when we got on it. Its pretty hot in there, no one really likes to open the windows for some reason, and you are shoved in between two other people, making you closer to them than you are with some of your facebook friends. But as we got moving it was ok. As long as we were moving, that is. The breeze comes in and its nice to look out the window at the amazing landscape (tropical with lots of hills). But when you are stopped in traffic, in the heat of the day, for hours, it gets a bit tiring. So it took us 3 hours to get into Accra. 70 km away, remember? Much different than Canada.

-          Doing my own laundry by hand! I actually didn’t mind it. I did it in the morning. So I was pretty hot, but nowhere near as hot as I would have been if it was in the middle of the day. I think I am still not very good at it. I will need to get some help the next time I do it. I was pretty proud of myself after though, and I am just glad to have clean clothes. I do have many more to wear, but I have quickly chosen the ones that are the coolest and most comfortable and appropriate.

Ok I know I have so much more to talk about, like the things that I have learned already about business here, and the schools, and tips on taking tro-tros. But for length’s sake, I will save all of those stories for other blog entries.

A few other things I have come to realize: living in Africa isn’t as romantic as it seems, roosters don’t only crow in the morning, and I sweat far more than the average African man. Mmmm.

PS. Awesome thing: sitting in front of a fan when you are super sweaty so that you feel cold.

Pre-Departure

So I've never written a blog before. Which means this could turn out to be a complete disaster... or it could be a beautiful thing! It just seems to be the most convenient way to keep everyone updated on my life. 


I am leaving in 3 days to go to Asamankese, Ghana. I am going to be there for 13 weeks. This will be the longest consecutive period of time I have been away from Canada. Needless to say, it will be a huge adventure. While I am super excited for all the unknowns that lie ahead of me, I am also pretty apprehensive  about them. I'm quite the control freak, and so much about this trip is out of my control. 


The program I am going with is an internship through Redeemer University College (my school). I am going with one other student, Heather. We will be working on separate but overlapping projects. Heather is going to be teaching women how to read English. Last year about 40 women were committed to the classes, and apparently this year about one hundred have signed up already. So that is pretty promising. The project that I am working on sort of goes alongside Heather's. Almost all of the women that come to these classes are traders or farmers. This is where my project comes in. Many of them expressed need for capital for travel to larger surrounding cities to purchase goods for their current small outfits. Also, they are unable to get loans because they do not have capital to invest. As a result, they do not experience any sort of growth in their businesses. My job is essentially to do a needs assessment of those women so that in the future we can put an economic development program into place to bring necessary resources to the people. 


Needs assessment sounds pretty simple, but from my understanding it can be quite time consuming. It involves a lot of work on the ground level interviewing people and doing research, finding out as much as I can about the potential for economic growth. It will also involve a lot of networking with nearby NGO's to see what sort of projects are already in place and how we will be able to work with that. I also need to compile all of the info that I collect into a comprehensive plan or report so that something can actually come of my work. I am so excited about the potential that this program has, but since its the first time I have done anything like this, naturally I am nervous. 


So this is a pretty long first post, but it is an explanation of a lot of things.  Most of you are probably wondering about the title of this blog... it may seem to not fit at all. The physical journal that I will be writing in for my whole trip is actually a re-bound old book cover. This company takes used books, uses the hard cover, and puts new paper in it so its like new and sells them as notebooks/journals. The one I bought has the cover of the book Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Blinking Eye. She's kind of like Nancy Drew. Anyways, I thought it fitting that my online journal would have the same name as my written journal. Mostly I just couldn't think of a good title on my own. 


Ok, next time I write I will be sweating my brains out in Africa. Here I go!