Last Day

Makola, Arts Centre, Beach, walking around Accra, Fan Choco, plantain chips and pure water.

Great last day, hands down. Printing boarding passes now, going home to haphazardly pack, and then the flight takes off. Excited, nervous, sad - all sorts of emotions.

Home soon :)

Monday

It's Monday. Leaving on Saturday. Here's what I know:

I'm going to freeze. It's 93 degrees right now and I'm happy about it.
I need to go to the beach every day until Saturday....PENNSYLVANIA IS LANDLOCKED!!!!!
I need to get my friend's phone numbers that will work on next Monday when we're all cold and confused without 50 pesua rice down the street.

That's all for now. Shortest post ever? Yes.

Time - There, Here, Now and Then

I. [There]

Use it wisely,

Don’t waste.

Manage, master and mind

That time. Fill the day

Rise to rest.

Walk fast, head down,

Don’t look, don’t talk.

Be on time, never late.

What’s your schedule?

Pencil me in.

II. [Here]

It’s time is not yet.

“I’m coming” [pause] (as she walks away)

Leave when it’s full,

Start when professor comes,

Leave when lecture ends.

Depart when driver awakes.

Speak to me, learn Twi,

Good afternoon my friend.

III. [Now]

5 hours late

            Met a stranger, talked about life

Filled up in 40 minutes

            Fan ice and plantain chip break

4 hour lunch

            Where else did we have to be?

Class out early

            Extra Tawala time

Delayed professor

            Email to mom

Friend late to meet

            Amateur philosophy, advanced billiards and familiar strangers

IV. [Then]

Turn off the alarm,

Trust the sun.

Go when I am ready.

Walk slow,

Say hello.

Revel in the moment,

Pay homage to the idle minute,

Delight in the surprise of solitude.

Embrace the fluid second and

Stop worshipping perfect, rigid structure.

Reject obsession with control.

Relax;

Let the universe dictate when it is ready

Read the signs of yes or no.

Listen to the breathing clock of life.
 

Spirit

I really have time to write a little bit tonight (finals are coming up…I’ll use that as my excuse for not having posted, and the likely infrequent postings over the next few weeks) so here we go.

This past weekend we traveled to Northern Ghana staying in Tamale, and visiting both Bolgatanga and Paga. We learned about Islam and were able to visit a Mosque, because there is a prominent Muslim community in the northern region.

 I don’t really remember in what order all of this occurred, so I’m just going to skip around as I see fit/recall.  We went to see a clinic run by Dr. Abdallah; possibly the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s a Ghanaian, and was trained to be a doctor in the U.S., but came back to practice (a rarity, I assure you – brain drain) in the relatively poor northern part of the country. He runs a free clinic treating malaria, fistulas, hernias, leprosy and pretty much whatever else he can. He doesn’t offer maternal or pediatric care, because that is provided for free by the government. He does however, do C-Sections (not covered by the government), and any other operation that comes his way. He runs an outpatient clinic, has an in-patient ward/bungalow neighborhood where the ill AND their families can stay for the duration of the illness, and also offers social support for HIV/AIDS patients. He is able to do preliminary testing for HIV/AIDS, but then refers patients to a government hospital for medication.  This is all pretty amazing, right? Yeah, we think so too – but it gets better. First of all, preference is given to patients that are the most destitute, poor and out-casted – noble indeed. Second, he has housing available for “destitutes”. Third he feeds the poor, and whoever needs food, especially HIV/AIDS patients, Fourth, he distributes clothing to those in need. Five he runs a microfinance program supporting local women. Incredible right? There’s more. Many of his staff are untrained, some even illiterate – he teaches men and women to do a certain job, or they figure it out, and then they stay there and work as nurses or surgical assistants – this is not that uncommon in Africa in general, especially in not-for-profit hospitals -  obviously there is a lot less regulation, especially for NGOs here. Also – he never solicits funds. This man is awesomely humble and has the biggest smile, but he doesn’t solicit funds. He believes in, and has been thus far entirely supported by ‘divine intervention’.  Though faith is very important to the Doctor, he makes it clear that there isn’t any expectation or attempt at conversion or pressure from one religion or another. He has Christian, Arabic and even Jewish (not common in Ghana) sayings around the buildings – he said they welcomed any faith with respect.

He told us the story of a time when his wife said they were out of food and wouldn’t have any to feed the people. He said that it would work out, or it was God saying they should rest from cooking food for a while. That same day an woman handed him a check for enough money to feed everyone for a month – he said this happens all the time – that donations come in just when they are most needed. Like I said – absolutely incredible man.

Later that day ( I think) we went to a widow’s community. Widows who refuse to be married to their dead husband’s brothers are essentially excommunicated along with their children. This group of women and children in particular weave baskets to survive. They were so welcoming and cheerful. We had a great afternoon, playing with the kiddos, watching them weave, learning to weave a little, dancing, singing and buying baskets. Great fun.

Spirit. That’s what comes to mind in describing Dr.Abdallah and the widows in that community. Strenght of spirit. They all faced immense hardships, emotional and physical, but they had a smile and a willing heart. I was moved by the happiness and air of barreling right on through hardship. I’m going to remember that sense of movement the next time I face a road block – nothing is impossible. There is always a way to be happy, or at least to put a smile on, or find the peace in a moment. It may not be easy, but that’s why it takes a strong spirit.

I’m going to try to keep writing more. As for pictures, I’m really quite bad about them – I’m going to make up for it with a bangin slideshow and a bunch of facebook albums (which I’ll link here or upload to photobucket for public view)when I return to an internet connection that cooperates. So, please be patient. I’m coming. (ß this is a Ghanaian phrase that gets muttered or yelled (depending on the circumstance) that really means “I’m walking away now, as I’m speaking, but I’ll be coming back in a little bit”)

I’m going to do some homework and head to sleep (these posting times aren’t correct, if you haven’t figured that out, but I don't really know how to change them, and I'm vastly unconcerned about it), but I do apologize for the fairly long hiatus - with any luck I'll be able to post regularly for a little bit.

:)

The Last Thing I Expected

One of our professors is the daughter of the former president of Ghana.  He ousted Nkrumah, and then was ousted by Nkrumah, but still – he was president. This professor, Dr. Busia, is a wonderfully dynamic woman. She is a full time professor at Rutgers University of English and specifically African Literature.  Her mother died in late January – the wife of the former president (now 30 years deceased), and we were invited to the funeral. Let’s keep in mind that Professor Busia is of royal lineage on both her mother’s and father’s side. This means that Nana Busia (her mother) was Ga royalty, and the family she had been married into for 60 years was Asante royalty. This subsequently means that it was a chief heavy funeral.

In Ghana, funerals are celebrations. Huge, gigantic, enormous celebrations. There is definitely an aspect of mourning and grief, but the point is to honor the dead in every way imaginable. So funerals often turn into whole neighborhood parties with food, drinks, music, dancing and various rituals. Everyone is invited.  This funeral was no exception, excepting that her and her husband’s family are all royalty. There was a whole tent for “chiefs” and literally entire pods of elders and ethnic leaders were chillin out watching one of the three groups of traditional drummers and dancers.

It was a great afternoon. Nisha and I had traditional print (white with black symbols, because the person who died was over 70) dresses made, and then we tro-tro’d to the event (miraculously…we were really lucky with some of the mates we encountered). It started at 1, so naturally we showed up at 2 and people were just beginning to get settled in. There were traditional proceedings, and a lot of shaking hands. Each group of people (kind of? Maybe? We couldn’t actually determine) got introduced over the loudspeaker (tons of huge speakers set up all over the place) and then went around and shook hands with everyone. Neat experience indeed. On our loop around, I stopped and talked to some women, and a couple that had a daughter going to school in Villanova.  Overall it was just a really awesome  event – we were lucky, in a way, to be able to see what goes on at such an epic traditional funeral of a really well loved first-lady. There was an air of sadness, but also an intent to remember with grace and happiness. It’s difficult to articulate, but Ghanaian views about death and mourning are very different from those in the West. Maybe more on that later.

Oh yeah. And Stevie Wonder was there. Legitimately sitting in the family section; apparently he’s a friend of the family. He didn’t sing – he was on the phone most of the time – but it was still pretty bizarre and cool. Yeah. I go to Ghana, go to the funeral of a royal former-first-lady, and see Stevie Wonder. These are the times I question just what else the universe has in store for me.

Comment, question – anything. Emails are also always appreciated J

Tree Time

This is the story we can't stop re-telling and laughing over - so I thought I'd share.

It's about 5:45pm, and dusk is near approaching. We have a very limited amount of time to reach the road where we should be able to call a taxi driver to come drive us back into town. We're resting on the rocks at the top of the mountain we just navigated and are discussing how to get down as we take the first few steps toward the bottom. Straight down. Instead of zig-zagging down, or finding the path of least resistance, we decide to opt for the most direct route. We travel in line down the mountain. I'm leading, bashing down vegetation to create some sort of path or passageway for the following two, calling out instructions as I go along, hoping to make a smooth journey down. Most of the instructions consist of "um..I'm slipping down facing backwards...grab onto the grass, it'll hold you" or "crab walk style for this part" with the one-time-only-special of "grab onto this tree and swing on it like a fire pole to this rock" - which is exactly what needed to be done. 

So we're making our way down the mountain with only a minor tumble taken by the ever persevering Nisha, when I realize we might have a problem. I wasn't on the ground. I was pushing through some really dense bush and I couldn't see the ground. I was just standing on bran--and I fell...into a tree. 

I looked down just before I fell and realized I wasn't being supported by anything except a thick layer of bush and tree, and the next thing I see is sky and Nisha. "I'm in a tree". They didn't believe me, and didn't quite know what to do. I was laying what should have been parallel to the ground, but really I think my body was forming a triangle with the mountain. Then they saw - "You're actually in the tree!" Yep. Yes, I was in a tree, facing the sky, and I couldn't get up because my legs were higher than my head. Whoops? I manage to flip myself over and tramp the bush down securely enough that I could keep moving forward - so what do Liza and Nisha do? They follow me into the tree. We decided on a direct route, so that's what we did. Thankfully that was the last tree we encountered on our otherwise smooth, rocky and highly vertical descent. 

As an extension of this story, we get to the bottom, and get our backpacks (we took our cameras, money, and my phone on our persons and left our bags behind some rocks and trees at the base of the mountain) and start to book it out. It's nearly nightfall, and we really want to get to the road. We know the general direction, but it's not like there's real paths anywhere, and we only have the flashlight on the phone for a torch. We drink one of our last two water sachets, thinking we'll drink the other when we've called the taxi to come retrieve us. I reach for my phone with the taxi driver's number in it and find, much to my dismay, that my phone has inconveniently vacated my pocket; probably currently residing in a tree. 

So. We start walking. We don't have the phone number now of the person that was to drive us to town, nor the great people we met before setting off that were going to find us a place to sleep, and we don't have water, and it's getting dark, and we're three girls, with all our stuff alone. Super. 

We get to the main (I use this term loosely, by the way. It was paved, but very infrequently traveled) road just as it falls dark and start to walk, because there's no sense just standing there. A yam truck (huge, dilapidated, tractor-trailer sized truck piled wayyy over the open top with bags of yams and yellow plastic oil containers) drives by, and we half flag it down, it half stops for us. We look to see if there's anyplace for us on the back. Negatory. A guy jumps out and asks where we're going before telling us to hop in. My bag, me, Liza & Nisha's bags, then Liza and Nisha. I climb into the balcony seating a level up from the front bench seat, while Liza and Nisha smush into the front seat. Awesome. We have a lovely conversation with the driver, who tells us his brother is in the US, in Virginia. He calls him, and hands me the phone. Turns out the guy is driving on 81 in Pennsylvania heading back to VA. Cool, right? 

So, that's actually three stories - falling into a tree, losing my phone, and hitchhiking on a yam truck. 

:) 

One Step at a Time: Easter Break

Easter Break.

 Motto: One step at a time.

Plan of Action: Go to Eastern Region of Ghana where there is a huge celebration and Paragliding festival for Easter around and on the Kwahu Platau with Liza and Nisha

What Actually Happened (in super brief format – I’ll outline the weekend, and then as I feel like it, and have time I’ll toss little stories into my blog entries. Feel free to ask questions)

Friday:

Circle (main station in Accra)

Got on a bus going to “Easter”

Atibie

Taxi to top of Kwahu Platau

Bought tickets

Taxi to Mpreaso

Shared taxi to Kwahu Tafo

Met Louis, Prince, Raymond, Albert

Taxi to Buruku

Hiked the mountain

Fell into a tree

Lost phone

Back to the road by sunset

Hitchhiked to Tafo in full Yam Truck

Met Ross and Astrid

Stayed in overpriced hotel [but it DID have running water]

Saturday:

Mini hike to Mini-but-awesome-Waterfall with Ross

Taxi to Adowso

Motor/fishing boat/canoe across one river of Lake Volta

Tro-tro from Ekye to Donkorkrom

Taxi to Agordekye

Looked at Lake Volta again

Bananagrams

Taxi to Donkorkrom

Met Sam

Great fufu and soup

Hung out with the whole town, little boys and live music

Slept in small, but super perfect room in Genesis hotel

Sunday:

Tro-Tro to Ekye

Ferry across river/lake volta

Boat to waterfall in Oworobong

Waterfall too far away; saw Oworobong village instead

Boat back, stop in Sambhia village on the way

Shared taxi to Mpreaso

Follow Ernest to Mpreaso high school

Rent tent

Get water, get clean

Hang out with what must have been all of Ghana in the streets of Mpraeso

Monday:

Taxi to top of Platau again

Jump off a cliff attached to a pilot and parachute

PARAGLIDE

Land.

Ride in the back of a pick up truck with a South African pilot, Nisha and a bunch of chutes up the mountain

Shared taxi down the mountain with mysterious ex-fed, ex-pat from New York living in Achimota

Eat rice

Tro-tro from Mpraeso to Nkawkaw

Stairwell of a bus from Nkawkaw to Koforidua

Shared taxi from Koforidua to Madina

Tro-Tro from Madina to Circle (in Accra)

Taxi from Circle to home

The. Best. Adventure. Ever.

We had a great, whirlwind of a time – we literally didn’t have a plan, and it couldn’t have worked out better!

Easter Break

This is clearly a miniature hiatus from the Spring Break posts, because I'm SO incredibly behind that I've now reached Easter Break before I've finished telling you about the first one. Curious. I do promise to finish the Spring Break story, but I'm going to keep posting regularly until that project reaches its conclusion (it does have an unusually good ending, so I should really hurry up with tht).

So, we have Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday off for Easter this weekend. Nisha, Liza and I decided to go to the Eastern and Volta regions of Ghana and bumble around. We don't have a plan. We don't have hotel reservations. We have a guidebook, a piece of notebook paper with some numbers on it, phone credit and a vague idea of things we'd be super cool with doing. We're aiming to get to THE major Easter celebration in Ghana - apparently it's just an amazing festival/carnival/para-gliding event. We're leaving tomorrow morning around six, and we'll figure on starting to make our way back on Monday. Like I said. No plan. This is probably the smallest amount of planning that I've ever set off with - literally the knowledge that a festival is happening in this region, and that there's a ferry across a river, and there's cool stuff to do in a town close-by ish.

I'm stoked. I'm going to go home, pack up a backpack with who knows what, and go to sleep. I'll let you know how it goes. For real, this time though. We may wind up doing nothing, or doing so much it's going to take another month for me to post about it. Who knows? (that's half the fun!)

oh. and I don't have to speak french on this adventure. I dig.

Monday

Ok, before I start talking about Monday, one omission from Sunday's adventures must be noted. On our walk, we encountered an elephant. The elephant was snacking on a tree by the watering hole beside the main road we were walking on. We were about 100 yards away and it turned around and looked at us, then went back to eating it's tree. No big deal. Apparently what is a big deal is when the eleph. ant turns around again and four pi-peds are now 40ft away. Oh. So, Kaivan runs from the front of the line of us, leaving Nisha in front, me behind her and Liza quite a bit behind all of us. When an elephant moves toward you, you're supposed to stand your ground, call it's bluff. Kaivan ran, and the elephant began to gallop. It didn't take many steps because Nisha and I literally screamed at Kaivan to stop running, and he did. When Kaivan stopped, so did the galloping elephant.

Crisis Averted.

Now, on to Monday. We slept in just a little bit, although I found it impossible to sleep past dawn, which happens right around 6:30am. I went to the observatory to wait for the others to wake up - that became our standard meeting place. If you were looking for people right after you woke up, best bet was the observatory. That morning I finished the book Purple Hibiscus. Liza Nisha and I had two novels with us between the three of us (plus another book of Nisha's) that we all finished. It was a good book, about a B+. It could have been great if it hadn't glossed over some vital details, and tied the ending up like there wasn't another option. Anyway. I finished that, and started Devil in the White City, which was a historical fiction about the Columbian Exhibition, or World's Fair in Chicago in the early twentieth century. Great read if you like character studies. I've clearly been distracted by books. What else is new? So. Burkia Faso, right. After everyone was up, we watched the elephants for a bit, and then went to the dining hall for breakfast/spaghetti.

And there we sat from 8am to 3pm. It was an absolutely fantastic day of relaxation and activity, conversation and quiet. All of us brought things to do - homework, books, string (to make bracelets!) journals, cards and bananagrams. So that's what we did, all the while watching the elephants romp in the watering hole. We talked while Liza taught us how to make string bracelets (yep...like we were ten at day camp), and then just spent some time hanging out, reading, writing, whatever. All of a sudden it was lunch time, so we ate around one, and went back to our bungalows to sleep at three. Around 4, I was semi-asleep and I heard someone walking outside. I thought this was kind of weird because the camp had been really empty all day. I was right. I look out the window of our bungalow and see the back half of an elephant. I yell to Nisha (repeatedly) to come that there was an elephant, right now. We got our cameras, and went onto the porch to see this huge elephant just strolling by. We wanted to get Kaivan and Liza, in the other bungalow to make sure they saw it...but we couldn't walk those 20 feet because there was an elephant in the way! We soon heard and saw them being excited about the huge grey critter that looked about to chomp on their roof. It passed by and snacked on a nearby tree before lumbering to the water to cool off. We couldn't get over it. We're STILL not over it - that elephant walked right next to our place of residence...it's footsteps woke me up from a nap. Absolute madness, I tell you.

The rest of the evening was pretty normal - we ate dinner, charged up our batteries on the few hours of electricity, played cards and went to sleep. I think this was the day that we taught Alhassan (the guy who ran the dining hall) how to play the card game ERS. This was quite a feat considering we speak limited french, and he doesn't speak English. We really befriended this guy - he seemed to like us a lot, and we figured it was probably because most people don't stick around too long. Most people in the camp just stay for one nigh - safari in the morning, and then out. We stayed for five days, four nights. There was one other party doing much the same as us, except they had a car, so they headed out to the bush to set up their table and chairs to drink and play cards. Anyway, we got to be as good of friends with Alhassan as we could, considering our communication was incredibly limited.

So that was Monday.

I do apologize for the gap/delay/lack in postings. It was a busy week, and we don't have internet at our house anymore, so I need to make more time at the Academic Center (where internet is surprisingly reliable) to make sure these get up. Thank you for your patience!

Sunday

So, official day one of Spring Break. The night before, if you've been keeping up, we managed to communicate with the front desk guy that we wanted a safari in the morning, with a car, driver and guide. Funny side note. None of the four of us know how to drive stick shift. I've driven it once, through a parking lot for about fifteen minutes. Because of this situation, and the fact that we were unsure of what exactly our transportation accommodations would include, I thought it prudent we educate ourselves to the nuances of stick shift. So I wikihow'd it. Yep. Thursday night before we left I went to the Academic Center and printed out a French grammar primer and the steps to successfully driving a manual car. This was the extent of our preparation, so (as you can imagine) we were happy the car for the safari came with a driver. [I have to say though, the wikihow was pretty thorough - I feel that with my minute previous experience and extensive written directions, I would have been fine...ok...fine may not be the word...I think we probably wouldn't have crashed. Decreased the lifespan of the transmission? Definitely.] Sunday morning, 6:20 am, we roll out of our Bungalows and traverse the 30 feet to the reception center, where we find waiting a pickup truck with a board across the back. Super - exactly what we were hoping for. Neither the driver, nor the guide spoke English, but it was gestured to us (we did a lot of gesturing - surprisingly effective method of communication, I must say) that he had an illustrated book of the animals that he would use for us. Sweet.

We set off. African sunrises are the best I have ever seen. It gets nearly totally light out, and then this perfectly circular ball of fire just appears. That morning, it simply appeared and then rose high in the sky, transforming from a bright white into a blazing yellow. On this safari, we saw water buck, roan antelope, gazelles, warthogs, baboons and this beautifully blue-colored bird called an absynian roller. Every time we, or our guide or driver saw an animal, we stopped the Land Cruiser and watched, while the guide handed back the book to Kaivan to show him what we were looking at. The four of us were sitting in the back on the board, facing forward. Nisha and Kaivan sandwiched Liza and I - Liza and I had to hold on to the metal bar fixed right behind the glass window of the pick-up, while Nisha and Kaivan braced themselves in with their legs. They also had to dodge foliage, which was pretty funny. Out of this constant need to duck or get out the way of branches, trees and assorted grasses, the phrase "tuck and roll" was born. This turned into a great continuing joke throughout the week - all you needed to do was tuck and roll out of any situation. As we looped back around the camp and wound up on the main road we traveled the day before, the sun was getting hotter and we could see our bungalows. Liza and I had been standing up, enjoying the wind in our face and the dust coating our skin, mostly because it was a bumpy ride to take on a wooden plank, and because we felt absolutely super-cool. Just before entering the reception area, just about where the bungalows began, and just past the watering hole and baboon lair, we had to stop. Why did we have to stop, you may wonder? Because there were elephants crossing the road. No joke. We stood in the back of this white truck while about a dozen elephants crossed the road less than 40 feet in front of us. There were some little ones in the group (relatively speaking of course), and then a whole lot of really large, dopey looking elephants. We took pictures like it was the last time we would see them, and we did wind up with some really cool shots. They just kept coming across the road, completely unperturbed at the car chillin so close by. Thus we arrive at 8:30 am Day 1 of Spring Break, Burkina Faso. Score.

The rest of the day is really spent watching elephants. We went to the observatory (round stone hut that jutted onto a peninsula slightly into the watering hole with tiered benches for [get this] observing the animals) where the rest of the visitors of the camp were already gathered (about 20 people or so, definitely no more). We sat there for a long time and just watched the elephants. There were between 20 and 24 (it's remarkably difficult to count looming grey critters when they're playing and half submerged in water) elephants in this watering hole. They were cooling off, playing and bothering one another. The old ones were just sort of hanging out alone, not really moving and not really caring what was going on around them. The ones that looked like full adults were all together, much as you would expect parents at a play ground to gather on the outside of the fence to converse and enjoy adult company. Then the young and adolescent ones (it's pretty easy to get a read as to how old an elephant is in terms of size and skin texture) were seriously just playing around. They were wrestling, dunking each other, walking over one another and tugging their playmates underwater. It was fantastic to watch, an absolute ball. This is not the last time I'll make a note of how much like humans the elephant interactions were - it was uncanny.

We got hungry, so we went to the dining hall/restuarant for breakfast. Petit Dejuner (breakfast) consisted of a lot of baguette, cheese, jam, butter, tea and coffee. Kaivan usually got spaghetti, Liza and Nisha usually went for the p.d. and I split my time. The cool thing was that because the dining area overlooked the watering hole as well, we could watch elephants as we sat there and ate. Wonderful.

We ate snacks for lunch, and then napped and went for an exploratory walk in the afternoon. We saw some warthogs chasing gazelle, and some other deer like creatures. It was cool to just walk around - we stopped about every 20 minutes for a water break, and walked for about an hour and a half. Liza and Kaivan stopped as we were walking about the watering hole to break up and bottle some dried mud. We figured we could add water to it and make it into clay - this turns into a great story for the next post, so stay tuned. Super. We thought dinner ended at seven, so we went back (having skipped lunch, save for some plantain chips and peanut butter sandwiches) around 5:30. Well, we were wrong. Dinner is served at seven. This makes sense - they make all the food at once, because there isn't enough people at the camp at any one time, and there aren't that many choices to warrant making each dish by itself - they cooked all the food and served it at generally around 7 pm. So, hence began our period of regression. We brought cards, bananagrams, our books and string to nearly every meal, in some combination, from that point on. We really felt like we were five, needing to be entertained while waiting for food to be served, but we got to be ok with it relatively quickly. It was actually a great way to enjoy the passing of time. We watched elephants, talked, laughed and played games as we waited for the food.

After eating, we went back to one of our Bungalows and all hung out and played more bananagrams, until 9:30 or so when we retreated to shower and get ready for bed with the luxury (and light) of electricity. It was an exhausting, and early day, so I think we mostly all just fell right asleep. We planned to allow ourselves time to sleep in the next morning, because we weren't going on a safari until Tuesday. Monday we decided we would just hung out, which turned out to be an awesome decision. We thought we would sleep in, watch elephants all day, and then take an afternoon walk, since we hadn't done that yet. It was a great day one (technically speaking), but I assure you, the best is yet to come.

By the way - going back to school after spring break sucks. I love learning, and being in class - but after spending a week chillin' with elephants playing in a watering hole...lecture just doesn't quite cut it. It also isn't so cool that I have a quiz, midterm, paper proposal and a group presentation during the course of this week, either. Such is life - at least I'm enjoying what I'm learning about.

:)

Friday and Saturday, Traveling

We had tickets – thanks to Nisha’s endeavor on Thursday, we had tickets in hand that actually cost half the fare. Good work. The bus was set to leave at 12:30 – now, this system of transportation (who am I kidding – the entire country/continent) is notorious for running hours late. I go to class Friday morning (7:30-9:30, 40 minutes away) and return to pack. Liza comes over at around 11 and the four of us discuss what we’re bringing, remind each other of vital missing items and generally make sure we’re all on the same page. We’ve already exchanged our money into the African Franc, or CFA (see-fa), and we are set to go. We arrive at the bus station at around 12:30. The lady at the desk says the bus will leave no later than 2:30. Seven bags of 1Gh Cedi rice, three Fan Ice, 10 water sachets, and 10 bags of plantain chips later, we pull out of Accra at 5:42pm. We didn’t eat all of that food – most all of it got shoved into black plastic bags in the overhead storage compartment for later, which was definitely a useful idea.
So the journey went. The bus was much more comfortable than anticipated – good seats, leg room and a/c – we were definitely pleasantly surprised. On the TV, there were ridiculous Nigerian movies playing/blaring until about two am, at which point five popular Ghanaian Hip-Life songs began looping. Five songs looping over and over again – while we do love this music…that was a bit much. The four of us managed to get some sleep, at some point, though with varying degrees of success, throughout the night. As it became light outside, it was obvious the landscape was much different than in Accra. There were circular and square adobe huts with thatched roofs situated in small groupings of perhaps 10-20 or so, and sometimes smaller. There were also a lot of Mosques, indicating the increased Muslim population of Northern Ghana. At 7:15am, we pulled into St. John Station in Bolgatanga. After trying to determine if the bus was continuing to Paga, a town still closer to our destination and finding that this was indeed the last stop, a man came on the bus and offered to take us to Paga, and then the border. This was the ticket. He overcharged us – by a lot. We wound up paying twice what we realistically should have, but in our defense, we were tired, didn’t have a very steady plan of the next step and weren’t sure what other cars we could get to go where we were going.

Smo was the taxi driver’s name, quite a jovial young man. We were all snacking on our wonderful plantain chips, and he apparently felt left out. After asking for one to share, Liza continued to feed him chips for the duration of the half hour or so ride, which was just sort of bizarrely funny. We made it to the border, and went into the Ghanaian customs building. The officers there were awesome. They were really nice, joked with us and turned out to be really helpful. They hassled Kaivan because he was traveling with three ladies – they apparently thought he should be share. We filled out our forms, used their restroom and walked into Burkina Faso.

After crossing the border, it wasn’t long before we found that English really wasn’t spoken at all – it’s a Francophone country, but we weren’t sure if people living close to the border would be bilingual. Nope. We were lucky enough to meet this man who spoke enough English and understood enough of my French to convey that one of the customs guys had called him and told him we were going to Camp Nazinga. This is just a testament to how cool the Immigration guys were – one of them said he knew of Camp Nazinga, but when we went to find him to figure out if he knew how to get there, he had vanished – he had called this guy, and told him to take care of us. Sweet. So anyway, we pay much less than we planned on for Mahamo (sp?) to drive us in a small, white Volvo to Camp Nazinga. This turned out to be a full two hour drive through Po and the park. Po was a neat little border town, but we didn’t wind up getting to spend any time there. Most of the journey (about an hour and half or so) wound up being down the main road of the Camp. This was a bumpy, dusty, hole- filled road – we’re still not sure how that little car survived, but it did. Along the way, we saw warthogs, a gorilla and elephants. Seriously. Before we had even gotten to the actual camp, we saw elephants in the watering hole.

Upon arrival at the camp, we checked in, were shown to our Bungalows and realized it was a really good thing that I a) spoke a little French b) brought a French in West Africa Vocabulary book along. There really was very little to no English spoken, so it was an interesting experience.  The bungalows were awesome. We had to rent two because only three people were allowed to stay in one of them, and we were traveling with four. It worked out well. They each had beds, dressers, a table and a bathroom with running water, which was extremely comfortable and much more than I had expected. A pretty cool thing about the camp was that the electricity only turned on from 6-10 at night. We think it may have been on around noon as well, but we never wound up being able to confirm that. Since no one was around the camp during the day, the electricity was only turned on when they needed it to cook, or in the evening when people would need to see. Great idea for decreasing expenses, and it wasn’t any sort of inconvenience.

There was a restaurant at the camp, which was good, because the next closest place that we could have secured food was two hours away in Po. The prices were really reasonable, and the food was absolutely delicious. They had great rice that came with a delicious, flavor rich vegetable stew with cabbage, carrots, peppers and various squash, spaghetti with a fresh, water based sauce and chicken. The chicken was probably the best chicken I’ve ever had – incredibly fresh and perfectly done. More about that later in the week. So, we eat, watch the elephants play in the watering hole right in front of the dining hall, and take a walk around the camp. We just eat some snacks for dinner because we’re full from lunch, and find that the man at the front desk and I communicated well enough to get us a Safari tour for the next day at 6:20 am. Success! We were all exhausted and managed to fall asleep even before the fan turned off at ten.

So this was day 1 and 2, but they were mostly travel. The rest of the posts will probably be just one day, except for the last one, which will just be all the travel.

Lazy Sunday

When you’re in school, some things never change. We’ve returned from an epic Spring Break, and are currently indulging this day as a lazy Sunday. It’s pretty dreary out, and as the rainy season approaches, we think there are going to be more and more overcast, cloudy dim days to come. So Nisha and I are sitting in our pajamas tackling a fairly large amount of homework, reading and studying punctuated by Bananagrams and Fan Ice runs (and blog writing). For those of you unfamiliar, Bananagrams is a word game similar to scrabble with a free-form twist. It’s a blast to play, and great for rounds between readings. It’s also good for playing for hours and hours on end, as we’ve discovered in the past week (and yesterday). As for the Fan Ice runs – these are just fun. So, Fan Ice, if you’ve forgotten, is a delicious ice cream like substance that is packaged in a small bag that you tear open and kind of suck/push/drink out of. In addition to the vanilla ice cream, they have Fan Choco, which is frozen chocolate milk and a fantastic addition to any breakfast. The Fan Ice vendors (they push little ice box carts with Fan Ice inside, and pastries and muffins on top) have what amounts to a bicycle horn that they blow as they walk or ride around. From our room, we can hear when they get close…and we sometimes feel the urge to go buy Fan Ice, which turns into a nice little snack and cute little jaunt around our street hunting the guy with the ice cream. It’s a good time. Presently, I’m between readings, eating a Fan Choco and preparing to continue working.

A few things, first though. Spring Break. In order to really give you all the details and amazing things that happened, I’m going to write a blog for each day, and hopefully post them one or two days apart. There isn’t really any other way to capture or explain what happened, so I hope you don’t mind bearing with me as I continue to make posts. I’ll hopefully have the first one up today, and if I get them all written later this evening, I can post one a day for the next week. Sound good?

Also, this weekend we happened to meet a great group of kids from NYU. The CAS Scholars Program brought a group of sophomores to Ghana for the week. They flew in, did a whirlwind tour of Accra and Cape Coast and flew back out last night. Nisha, Kaivan and I got to hang out with them, share our experiences and hear their reactions. It was interesting to hear what they had to say, because their experience was very different from ours – they were driven around in a bus, stayed in the nicest hotel in Ghana and rarely got to venture out on their own; such is the nature of a one week visit. I wonder how they are going to process everything that they saw and learned once they get back to new York, or if it’s just going to be a mash-up of the lectures, market and food they had. Interacting with this group really made me appreciate the experience of living for an extended period of time in a different country – I’m not a tourist – this is my home. Although I’m glad the Scholars got to see Ghana, I really hope the trip piqued the interest of at least one or two of them that they will come here to study for a summer or semester, because it really is a life-changing, invaluable experience.

Alas, it’s time to keep working. I’ll post at least the first day of our journey today, if possible, and then the rest will be short in following. Feel free, as always, to drop me a line, comment or email – facebook messages are hard to access most of the time, so email is your best bet for a speedy reply. Enjoy the day!

So, it's been a while...

It has been a while, I realized. Time is flying here. The days are long (they start around 6:30 with the sunrise, include a nap between 5:40 and 6:40 before dinner while the sunsets, and then continue until usually eleven or twelve at night), but the weeks have become incredibly short. The past few weeks have been really occupied with Spring Break. Naturally, college students are all trying to figure out what they are doing for that week of respite in the middle of the semester. While most students are deciding between Florida or the Outer Banks, or which European countries to hit, we've all been discussing the plights of African air travel, safaris, elephants and sleeping on roofs under the stars.

Our group (consisting of Nisha, Kaivan, Liza and myself) has planned four complete spring breaks, and three of them have fallen through, all in a pretty big way. We've finally pulled one together in an impressive three days. We have reservations, bus tickets and ... well, that's all we've got, but we think that's all we need. We're headed to Burkina Faso to stay at Camp Nazinga. Google it. It looks cool, and I promise another Animals post afterward.

In other news, I've started volunteering at a nursery school (or creche) for the kiddos of women who sell goods in the street. This is a charity organization that provides really really reduced and cheap (but still not necessarily affordable, unfortunately) childcare/nursery school for women who might not otherwise be able to swing it. This is important not only for the child to be taken care of during the day, but because in order to gain entrance into a primary school in Ghana, you have to had been enrolled in a nursery school. We go and just kind of help manage kids - lots of crying ones - for about two hours before they start school. Today Nisha and I went and played/comforted/took care of kids for about an hour and a half and then helped feed them breakfast before their lesson. It's a lot of fun, but also a lot to take in - there are probably about at least 70 kids and less than 10 adults - I don't know how accurate my numbers are, but there are a lot of little people, and not so many big ones. It's definitely an adventure.

We literally leave for Burkina Faso in about 13 hours (supposedly...these buses are notorious for being wayyy late. Like, four hours late) and I have a class at 7:30 in the morning before that, in about 8 hours. The week of midterms and  spring break planning has finally caught up with me. As much as I would love to blog real time about our animal adventure (that's all we really want to do...see animals), we're not going to have access to internet (or phones) while we're at the camp (in our Bungalows...isn't that cool?!), but I'll be sure to post a full update upon my return.

Comments, requests and general hellos are always welcome!

Refugee Camp

I haven’t told you yet about the Budumburam Refugee Camp. Referred to in Ghana as Liberia Camp, and situated about 2 hours (give or take an hour, depending on traffic and time of day), this is a settlement of at least 42,000 people from all over West Africa, including Togolese, Cote d’Ivoirians, Nigerians, Ghanaian (we’ll get to that later), and last and most prevalent, Liberians. The camp was established originally in 1990 as a refuge for Liberians during the conflicts there in the 1990’s, and then 2000’s as well. Most of the inhabitants of the settlement are Liberian.  The camp was sponsored from 1990 to 2007(ish) by the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission on Refugees), but since the conflict in Liberia ended, they have since begun to pull their support. We’ll come back to this. The camp is situated on Ghanaian land leased by the UNHCR, and has a designated Ghanaian government official that has an office there and is responsible for all the workings of the camp, but obviously non-citizens don’t have access to the public education that is available in Ghana. There is a Government Social Welfare office that operates in the camp, but they seem to have little resources, and honestly, there isn’t much they can do.

So, Question One: How did I end up at a Liberian Refugee Camp two hours away from where I live? Answer: An organization called WISE. Women’s Initiative for Self Empowerment is an organization that works in Accra as primarily a domestic-violence combatant. It provides counseling and help with finances (micro-loans and business planning) for women (and men) that are survivors of domestic violence. WISE has developed a network of partners all over the area that includes the police, doctors offices, hospitals and lawyers that they work with, both to find women who might be in need of services, and to provide those services. A woman referred to WISE through the police station because of a shady story or report of violence would be provided counseling and medical care through WISE’s partners. They have several new initiatives they’re working on as well, including mentoring programs for boys (to address the root of the problem, before it’s a problem) and aid for youths in difficult or abusive situations. Awesome organization, for sure. One of the places they work is the Camp. They have counselors there three days a week available for residents of the camp to come in and receive help. These clients can walk-in, or be referred by the clinic or social welfare office.

The problem, however, is the social situation of the camp. Psycho-social counseling aims to address the psychological impacts of a situation, and also the social aspect of their life. Well, a person living in a refugee camp encountering a domestic violence situation has more to deal with than simply that horror and difficulty; they probably need food, access to clean water, and a way to educate or take care of their children. Keith, a Liberian who began working for WISE almost five years ago said it best, in that counseling can meet their psychological needs, but they literally can’t do anything about the social deficits. The World Health Organization (WHO) calls this the Social Determinants of Health. The theory is that even if you can treat someone’s medical problems, sending them back to the social situation in which that problem began will likely end with the same result, again. It’s the idea that the environment is highly influential of health, both mental and physical. Case in point; Liberia Camp.

Keith was saying that WISE was having trouble getting people to come in for counseling. This isn’t exactly surprising; while I definitely understand the importance of counseling and concentrated mental health, especially in instances and situations involving domestic violence, how likely is it that a person who can’t eat or feed their children will come in to talk about their emotional issues. They literally have more important things to worry about, or at least that would seem to be the case. Maslow’s hierarchy rates physical needs above emotional ones – shelter, food – these are necessary for survival.
Question Two: What goes on in the camp, and how do people survive? These are questions that we asked (five of us are attached to WISE, and four of us will be working at the Camp) as well, and I’ll give the best answer I can. From what we can gather, (and this has been pieced together from the five of us talking to different people), Liberians produce and Ghanaians buy, remittances are sent from family abroad, and some of the Liberians charge rent for spaces they acquired in the early stages of the camp. So there is money, just not enough of it. Ghanaians are in the camp (which is weird, right? That Ghanaians would be living in a refugee camp in their own country) because it’s cheap living space, and there’s a market to sell to. So, in addition to buying goods from the refugees, they supply their own market as well.

Question Three: What does it mean that the UNHCR is pulling out of the camp? Well, I think it’s going to continue meaning more and more as time progresses. The UNHCR was the main funder of the camp, and it’s overarching organizing force. This is not something to take lightly, because it is a huge amount of people – at least 42,000. One implication of the UNHCR’s withdrawal is the lack of recognition for the refugees. Because the UN ran a Voluntary Organized Repatriation operation back to Liberia, and it is considered now a peaceful state, the UNHCR doesn’t recognize anyone new coming into the camp. Previously, they would be issued a UN ID, and be granted official refugee status. Now people who repatriated are coming back to the camp, and more people continue to flow in, both from Liberia and other nations in turmoil. Any newcomer after 2009 was not recognized, and is not included in the 42,000 number that’s often tossed around. Another implication of the UNHCR’s withdrawal has been seen at the clinic. There is a Catholic Clinic on the camp (the only medical facility) that lost it’s funding for drugs and supplies, and is now having to find alternate sources of funding. Also, the HIV/AIDS clinic at the camp was funded by the UNHCR, but since funding is being cut, they are integrating into the Ghanaian government, with the understanding that they will now provide services to not only the camp, but surrounding Ghanaian communities. I’m not sure what else will happen, but eventually it stands to reason that the UNHCR won’t rent the land from the Ghanaian government, and then these people will either need to integrate, or move on from their home of 20 years.

Something I realized, and it’s part of the reason I haven’t written about this yet, is that there is no solution. Massive, systemic change impacting political and international law is needed to adequately solve the problem of displaced persons. Sadly, this is not the only congregation of people alienated from their destroyed homes and forced into a stable-temporary exile; it is occurring all over the continent. Services are needed, yes; medical care, food, clean water, bathing and toilet facilities – but ultimately there needs to be a solution. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to go about it. I have absolutely no idea. Right now, all any of us can do is try to help who we can; education, supplies, materials – whatever they need. A few of us are working on potentially setting up a donation drive or some such fundraiser – rest assured the details will be here.

On that note – think about what you have, and what we take for granted. It’s easy to think about situations like these; much harder to walk into them and realize that there is absolutely no solution. Comments, thoughts and insight are welcome.

Friday (note that this is the fourth post this week...applause is appreciated!)

So, let me tell you about my Friday, from start to finish.

6:00 Wake up

6:30 Leave, take a taxi (bartered down, of course) to University of Ghana, Legon for my 7:30 AM class

8:05 The professor shows up and says we won’t be having lecture today. The rest of the classes starting in two weeks will be seminar style, with a group of students presenting a topic each week. The groups will be posted on the notice board later that afternoon; he would have had them up earlier, but he can’t get a complete class list from the registrar’s office, because some software crashed. The groups will be 15-20 person in size (this follows, because it is at LEAST a 400 person lecture), have to write at least a three page paper TOGETHER, present it seminar style and field questions on the topic for a grade. Also, all of this presented information is exam-able at the end of the term. We get graded on participation in the group work as well; we’re to find our group by writing our number on the notice board next to our name and then calling everyone else. They did say it would be a different style of education; they were right.

8:30 Lecture is released, and I go mail letters and find the examination time for the class (7 AM the day before I fly out)

10:30 Gym to run with Nisha

1 pm At WISE (Women’s Initiative for Self-Empowerment) for a case conference that occurs every week with a psychiatrist from Military Hospital 37 named Erica Dixon. We hear cases from each counselor and discuss them, courses of action and potential issues. There’s also a lot of laughter and frank discussion of sex as it relates to the cases. Never before have I been in a room with so many women who could be my mother talking and laughing uproariously about sex. Great experience, I tell you what.

3 pm Fan Ice at Fan Plaza (right next door to WISE) with Lizzie and Nisha (there is a Lizzie, Liza and Elizabeth/Liz [the last one is me] and Lizzie and I ALWAYS wind up next to each other, usually introducing ourselves to confused looks) – we had a vanilla Fan Ice, a Fan Yogo, and a tropical fruit drink that was super sugary and definitely supbar. Better luck next time.

3:45 pm Sitting at a table at Tawala Beach overlooking the ocean, having a drink (Fanta’s in a glass bottle – so good!), and almost doing homework. We talk for a while before reading for class and then napping. Shaggy was playing from the “bar”, that also has an incredibly and obviously slanted pool table, yet it’s never really free. We sat there, looking at the ocean, and really seriously wondering how we got there – sitting on the West Coast of Africa, reading about Pan-Africanism and African philosophy and legitimately living in Ghana. Thank you, Study Abroad.

6 pm Nap before dinner

7 pm Dinner at Tante Marie’s, on the upper deck because of another group below (in our usual spot). They served rice, pasta, salad, chicken kebabs, some sort of maise and palm oil paste (great though), boiled/seasoned vegetables and keiley-weilly (Kelly welly, I don’t really know the spelling) which are seasoned/fried plantain cubes, with mixed fruit for dessert.

9 pm Reading Kurt Vonnegut and hanging out with Nisha and Kaivan in our room, listening to some music

10:15 pm Going to Osu with Nisha to meet a Ghanaian student at a sushi place/bar/club place called Monsoon. They played (amongst some other songs: Mambo No. 5, No Satisfaction, I Gotta Feeling, I’m Blue (yeah, Eiffel 65?), YMCA and some Ghanaian hit songs. It was an interesting, eclectic mix.

12:30 am We got tired and went home, bartering for a taxi again, after two different cabbies deliberately tried to way overcharge me – I got them down though (taxi fares are not fixed here. There’s kind of an understanding of how much one should be, but it can really vary depending on distance, time of day, traffic and the amount of people. By now I know how I can bargain with the drivers, when to just say “keep moving, I’ll get the next one” and when to quit and take the price. It’s a lot of fun, actually – I’m enjoying myself) and we went home.

1 am Sleep?

So that’s a day – oddly enough, Friday’s are really busy – start early and end late (usually) – every now and then when I’ve had a great day, I’ll post one of these, just for a little insight. 

Part III of III

Ok. Part III of III. This clearly won’t be as charged as Part I, and probably not as weird as Part II. Some of you have reacted to the information included in Part I, and I encourage that. Talk about it with your friends, with colleagues, do research on it, and think about it. Don’t brush it aside; let it hurt and sting a little bit, because it should. Part of coming to Ghana for me was to learn about another culture, and in addition to that, I’m learning history that shouldn’t be ignored, not only because it is true, but because it has contemporary implications. As I continue on my trip, I’m  going to keep using this medium to share the knowledge that I’m learning, and the experiences I’m having; both the fun and the serious. I hope you’re enjoying the updates so far, and I invite you into discussions about the topics I’m seriously talking about – they really do deserve it.

Canopy Walk, the Beach and Cape Coast(I guess I should have come up with some clever, witty transition from serious “think about life!” spiel to an airy, jealousy-inspiring description of palm trees and the ocean, but alas…)

So, after we saw the crocodiles on Saturday, we went as a group to what everyone kept calling a Canopy walk. We didn’t really know what that meant, but we arrived at Kakum National Park and began walking through the rainforest. There were so many crazy trees, absolutely gigantic patches of bamboo and just really cool looking branches and such. Next came the canopy walk. What they mean is that you walk along a series of bridges rigged between trees over the canopy of the rainforest, so above a majority of the trees. When I say ‘bridge’ I mean literally an aluminum, horizontal ladder about ten inches wide covered with wood boards with rope sides rigged between iffy wooden platforms between huge trees. We started low, and everyone was commenting on how they thought the bridge would be higher off the ground…they only had to wait about five minutes for that to be realized. All of a sudden, we were walking across this swaying structure of a bridge high above the tops of trees we knew had to be stories tall and yet there were still ones towering over our own heads. Looking out, all we could see was the misty top of the rain forest, with a lone tree poking out once in a while across the horizon. It was really amazing. We kept walking and crossed about six bridges before winding up close to where we started. It must have crossed out over a valley, and we came back to the ridge. It was just really really awesome. Kind of scary, but really cool.

That evening, we had dinner at the place we stayed right on the beach, and then watched as three guys lit a bonfire with a cardboard box, matches and a bottle of palm oil until the pile of stacked wood blazed by the ocean. It was a really relaxing night, though we were exhausted emotionally and physically from the day. Many of us used the evening to talk and process about what we had seen and learned earlier in the day; we continue to do that in small groups and classes throughout the week as well.

We could see stars! Where we live in Accra, because it is a city, the stars are usually shrouded in clouds and smog. Here though, on the coast, and isolated from any major metropolitan area, we could see stars as they faded into the black of the ocean.

This was an absolutely beautiful beach, and I’ve realized the ocean at night is one of the most calming experiences. Nisha and I got up the next morning to watch the sunrise, and were told that it goes from about 5 to 6. From five fifteen to six we hung out on the beach as most people slept, the sky got lighter and the ocean just kept on keepin’ on. The sun didn’t show itself until about 6:45, but it was totally daylight out by 6 or so, which was kind of weird. When the sun did finally show up, it just appeared out of the fog that had settled on the coast in a really eerie, silent manner. It was a great way to start the day.

Later that afternoon, we went into Cape Coast town, just a half hour down the road from Elmina, where we were staying. We walked around, talked to people, and played with little kids, and generally took in the scene. Most people were out and about, doing chores, laundry, cooking or just sitting and talking. The kids wanted nothing more than to get our attention and play and practice their English. Their parents smiled at us. Their grandparents, and clearly the elders of the town simply stared as we walked by. This is an interesting, but unsurprising observation. Ghana is an incredibly young country – it declared independence in the late 1950’s, so many people living in Ghana today were not born in “Ghana” because it was still under British colonial rule. Obviously there are different attitudes held by the new generations indoctrinated in a western-idealizing world where globalization and the West are valued above local goods and those born into colonial rule that have lived through the independence movement, four republics and three coup d’états. This is something that I often neglect to think about, coming from a country that is relatively much older than Ghana; America even considers herself a “young” nation, in comparison to the European empires established so many centuries ago.

So there we go. Part III of III. If you’ve managed to bear with me for the whole series, congratulations to you, I realize it was long. Feel free to comment, or email me – I’m always open to feedback, questions and general discussion.

Part II of III (Animals!)

Pigs, goats, dogs, lizards, chickens, crocodiles, bugs, horses, cats, bats, fishies, crabs. So this is the wildlife I’ve come in contact with so far in Ghana. Goats actually just roam free, grazing where they can; by the side of the road, in gutters – wherever. They’re big ones, little ones, grey ones, black, brown and spotty ones. So many goats! We were sitting on the beach on a Friday afternoon and all of a sudden, out of nowhere (sounds like a horror movie, right?) a really big pig comes jogging along the shoreline. No kidding. It was a good size porker too – as big if not bigger than the ones caged up in pens in good old PA. Not long after, a little one trotted after it – curly-cue tail and all. I don’t know where they came from, or where they were going, but we saw pigs on a beach. There are lizards everywhere here. Purple and orange ones, greet ones, and ones that waddle and ones that sorta hop/skip/jump from place to place. Super cute and adorable, I kid you not. Chickens, dogs and cats all roam free – most are mangy looking, kind of skinny, but generally peaceful, not scrappy at all. Some dogs are pets; I’ve yet to determine about the status of the cats. The dogs are pretty cute – I think it’s too hot for them to do much besides lay around, and they do that quite well. Crocodiles – we see them in the lagoon we pass everyday on the way to school. Just kidding. J We went to a crocodile sanctuary type place this past weekend – it was really really cool. We saw a baby croc, and then two big ones. One of the big ones was sunning itself by the path – we actually thought it was dead….and then it’s head moved, and we booked it. Craziness, I tell you. We’ve seen some pretty trippy bugs – lots of bright colors and cool wings and such. We also have mosquitoes. These are straight up pests. They carry disease and leave uncomfortable bites – think midsummer at home, except all the time here. Bleght. We have this stuff called Odomos that keeps them away better than anything you’ll find in the states. At 1GHC a tube, I’ll take orders to bring some back should anyone so desire. Horses, crabs and fish we found at the beach. Well, horses are everywhere and tend to just kind of roam – most are thin, but they seem to be happy and have the run of the place, which is nice I guess. Kind of disconcerting at first, but still neat. Fish and crabs are pretty much exclusive to the beach, as you can imagine. Hard to catch, but fun to watch; especially the crabs. They would run along the beach dodging upcoming waves – sometimes being not-so-successful. Bats are just everywhere. There’s actually a place in Accra where they all congregate for no particular reason. While bats are nocturnal and usually find dark places to roost during the day, some of these bats roost in these tall, sunny mahogany trees while others fly around. Super weird, and no one really knows why this happens. So there you go. An overview of  the animals and wildlife so far in Ghana. I’ll keep you posted. J Monkeys and elephants are on my list to see as well. Any other requests or challenges? 

Part I of III

Introduction:

This past weekend was too incredible, interesting and indescribable to fit into one entry that you will all actually pay attention to. So I’m going to break it up into three. I’d love to say they’ll all be posted by this weekend, but I refuse to make any promises. Part one will talk about Elmina Castle, my frustrations with the world, and some historical facts you may not know that may change how you look at things. These facts will be incorporated from what I am learning in classes (Yes, I am attending those here, for the record), as well. This entry will not be fun to read, but please do so anyway. Part two will talk about all the animals (this one IS fun)! Part three will recount the beauty of the ocean and a canopy walk through the rainforest, which should pique your interest, even if you’re going to skip the one about the animals (which you shouldn’t; it promises to be entertaining, at least). So. Bear with me and enjoy. As always, comments are welcome and appreciated, especially if you have ideas for posts, or if there are certain things you want to know about, feel free to let me know.

Part I

Elmina slave castle is on Cape Coast; Elmina means “The Mine”, because of the potential riches (gold) to be exported at this site. Exports turned from gold and goods to human beings. Portuguese, Dutch and English slave traders used this Castle as the largest of many outposts from which to hold and transport slaves to the West, mostly Brazil, the Caribbean and the United States. [Fact: 6% of Africans traded in the Atlantic Slave trade wound up in the United States.] Aesthetically, this is a beautiful structure. White washed walls, wood floors, overlooking a dark blue ocean, palm trees thriving in sandy beds by the water; there is nothing beautiful about Elmina, however. There is nothing pleasant about what happened in the confines of those whitewashed walls. Separate dungeons for men and women; both without windows for light or ventilation, not to mention the blatant lack of sanitation facilities. There was a minor trench along the edge of the dungeon wall for the human waste of hundreds of people. This was a chamber used to force survival of the fittest. Those without the ability or will to live through excruciating, humiliating and inhumane conditions died; starved; became infected with diseases of filth and malnutrition. Those that did survive were loaded like cargo into a ship to be sold as goods to purchasers across the ocean through a short narrow door called the Door of No Return.

           Words cannot do the inhumanity justice. Even walking on the ground these people sold into slavery stepped on, lived on, and died on could not do the inhumanity justice. 60 million Africans were sold as commodities during the slave trade. 20 million of them died before they reached the Castle, on the treacherous journeys from their homes to the coast. 20 more million would die before they reached the West. The slave trade existed for approximately 200 years – 60 million lives were lost; either to death or to enslavement. This is a sombering thought, something that is impossible to change, but nearly impossible to reckon with as well.

          Visiting the Castle was a lot to take in, a lot to think about; I encourage you to do research and find out more, although it isn’t a popular subject of history. Africans who were enslaved (using the word ‘slave’ applies their state of captivity to them as a person; while they were slaves, it is important to remember it was not their choice, and not their only identity) helped build the United States, although no one likes to admit it. Often our success is attributed to our isolation from potential attackers, raw materials for trade and expansive crop lands. Ommitted is the immense contribution that slave labor had in the development of this nation. Let’s think about how the wealthy entrepreneurs accumulated enough wealth to start the industrial revolution; it’s easy to get rich when you don’t have to pay workers. Did you know there is an African Burial Ground in New York City? I didn’t either, but there is - right under the financial district, stretching for acres and acres. Slave labor physically helped build New York City, a metropolis seen as one of the most progressive, liberal and opportunity-rich places in the world. Have you ever read about that in History text books? Have you ever been taught that slave labor was a primary reason for the economic success of the United States? Have we taught our children that the largest trans-Atlantic migration ever was the forced relocation of 60 million Africans? Have we taught them that this still goes on today? Slavery is not over. Child slave labor and human trafficking for labor and sex work still exist today, and companies and individuals are profiting. This isn’t easy to think about either. We want to say we would never let slavery happen again; but we do. People are sold into situations, stripped of their rights and exploited with our permission. We give permission by buying goods, by being complacent with a system that prosecutes and criminalizes people who are being trafficked.

Like I said. Not an easy day, and quite enough thinking for one blog post. I encourage you to ask questions, to read and research and find out what we can do today. Humanity is not something to be taken lightly. Regardless of the color of your skin, background, religion, ethnicity, sexuality or gender – you are a human being. We all are. 

Adventure Time

First of all – Dad, I always thought it was gross when you opened bags with your teeth. No longer – this shall be explained in due time. (see how I give you a little tid-bit to keep you reading? Strategies, strategies…)

So, yesterday Nisha, Kaivan and I went on an adventure. We were tired of staying in Labone (fairly ritzy neighborhood right outside of Accra) and wanted to take a tro-tro (vanish bus type things that transport loads of people between designated spots. I use ‘designated’ loosely – the only maps we had were the gracious words of locals bestowed on three lost-looking Obrunis [term for white person/foreigner]. Think 1960’s hippie van – most are Mercedes-Benz or Volkswagens – and think of something that looks like it’s from the 60’s) to explore the greater Accra area. Explore we did! We took the first tro-tro that showed up to a place we now know to be New Town. Here we just started walking – there were little street stands and plenty of people, until we came across the mobile phone district, apparently. Then there were a bazillion people and phones everywhere. We just kept walking down streets that looked interesting. We stopped at a chop bar (little, really cheap food place) for a drink and a break from the sun. We drank fanta and sprite out of glass bottles (that’s almost all that’s served here, and you leave the bottles) for 75 pesuos [pess-oo-ays] (kind of like cents) apiece. We walked for a while longer and then decided to take a tro-tro to somewhere new. We came across one going to Accra and got on. These first two tro-tro trips were fine experiences. The bus was nice, not too cramped or crowded and the three of us rode for less than a dollar each time. Arriving in Accra, we went to find a place to eat, and were successful – all three of us had fried rice and chicken plus a drink we thought was juice but was actually just high fructose corn syrup with food coloring. Had to be. Ew. We kept moving and exploring – we found more markets, but best of all, we found Fan Ice.

Here’s the bit about the bags. So, Fan Ice is this ice cream type substance that is packaged in bags. Nisha and I quite enjoy the stuff, and purchased a package of it for 40 pesuos each. The only way to open the bag is to tear it open with your mouth – good life skill in Ghana, I tell you what. Water is also sold in plastic pouches on the street; again, the only way to effectively access this thirst-quencher is to tear the corner off with your teeth. So, Dad – no longer a gross practice.

Continuing on our journey, I bought a bag of tomatoes (about 15 small ones) for 1Ghana Cedi, and some garlic for 30 pesuos for Family Dinner tomorrow night (on Sunday nights, our house cooks and eats dinner altogether – last week was Quasi-Mexican night (we really just had rice, guacamole, plantain chips and French fries), but this week is Italian, and we’ve assigned everyone duties, so hopefully it works out. It was about three in the afternoon by this point, my shoulders were starting to redden (don’t lecture me on sunscreen, please) and we were ready to head home. Somehow. We knew we wanted a tro-tro to Labone. But that was where our knowledge/plan ended. We asked people and walked for about a half hour to another part of town (I think it was Nkrumah Cirlce) to find a tro-tro that would get us to Labone. We found a bunch of tro-tros, but none that were heading our direction until a driver pointed to a little purple one and said “Labone”. Yes! Success! We got in, and waited for about fifteen minutes for it to be sufficiently full enough to go.

This was the most unstable car I think I have probably ever been in. My head almost touched the cieiling, which had the metal bars exposed. We were sitting in the fourth row of bench seats…I’m not actually sure they were attached…as we shifted speeds, the whole car rattled – talk about an experience. It was great. We were safe; if that car was still together, it was going to last one more trip – and so it did. We paid our cedi to ride, played peek-a-boo with a tiny little girl, and got off where we started our adventure. Success! It was a great day – we bought food, took three tro-tros, were in three different locations, had lunch, found ice cream and drank water out of bags for the first time ever. So, so cool.

Makola Market (this is negligent of chronology, so it doesn't get a cool "number" label)

I want to describe the Makola market in intricate, mind-blowing detail. I’m going to fall short, but I really want to paint a picture of what this place is like. Critiques, questions and comments (as always) are welcome.

First step is getting out of the vehicle – no easy feat considering the crowds of people pulsating down the street and sidewalk, spilling into the open stands, pushing and shuffling to move towards their destination. It smells like fish, spices, sewer and auto fumes  - these all blend together to remind you that this is a market, not some clean, wax-floored shopping mall or fluorescently lit grocery store. There is a parking lot on the right with small groups of people selling mostly food – some are frying horizontally cut plantains on chicken-wire covered charcoal grills, others are sitting with jars of unlabled groundnut (peanut) butter and still others are selling shoes or scrap pieces of material. There are people standing as you walk down the street to enter the market – they have neon colored mesh material for sale, power outlets, toothbrushes, cans of soup, flip-flops in dingy looking plastic wrap all for sale. Women are caring loads of these goods on their heads – so
me selling to you, some transporting goods from one site to another.  As we get closer to the market, there is a space by the sidewalk that is full of food – people preparing it to sell immediately and openly behind where they are selling it. Chunks of meat lie on wooden boards, metal buckets with live, sand-dollar silvery gray crabs crawling and struggling up the slick sides for escape and whole pigs’ feet stacked for sale. Smoked, whole fish are neatly and efficiently shoved into buckets, with their brownish, grey, metallic skin that Is just darker than the bucket they occupy. 

Passing under the strung banner that reads “Makola”, it becomes a little more organized, though no less alive. Upon entry, there are a few women selling miscellaneous food items, rice, beans, simple spices and groundnut butter, but these goods will be more plentiful further in.  On the main path in on the left hand side, huge metal pans are stacked literally eight or nine feet high. Any cooking utensil imaginable is for sale – bundles of silverware, five gallon cooking pots, serving spoons, measuring cups, skillets – it’s all there, mostly oversize.  On the right, in addition to silverware, Tupperware and other kitchen supplies, there are clothes. All sorts of clothes, from baby bibs to men’s undershirts, bras, stacks of underwear for little boys and cute, pastel colored shirts of adolescent girls are found stacked high on tables. Further ahead, there are shoes. Mostly manufactured looking, pleathery sandals and shoes, these are stacked one on top of another about three feet
 deep. There are about six consecutive stalls of this sort, taking the first right hand side path deeper into the market. Somehow, we’re under cover now. It’s dark and we ‘ve passed the shoes, and the pather is narrower – barely single file. On either side, there is material. Small stalls absolutely full of beautiful fabric. Organized usually by price and set up for ideal and maximized display, the women selling are eager to show and sell. A print catches your eye;  you go and ask to see it. She pulls it out, and unfolds it so you can see the full, vibrant color of it and then asks how much you want. It is a bartering system – a give and take, a back and forth, an exchange of expectations and demands. The fabrics come in every conceivable color, pattern and combination. Blues, yellows, oranges, golds, purples, blacks, whites, metallic; traditional patterns, stripes, circular swirls, symbols and everything in between. Each stall has a different selection – it’s impossible to s
ee it all, so weaving back through the darkest part of the market, you must force yourself to continue moving. 

Emerging from the fabrics, directly ahead on the main path is the food. More fresh meat (chicken, beef, pork, pig parts), vegetables, rice, beans, fish and spices. They measure the rice from an old coffee can, and the vegetables are being cleaned as you walk by. The meat is cool and freshly butchered (for the most part) and the spices are haphazardly bagged and tossed in a bucket. Stands upon stands, people selling tomatoes, carrots, string beans, every imaginable kind of rice and bean – making a left turn, more stands are to be found with more obscure looking foods for sale. 

Passing potatoes, yams literally the size of footballs and tubs of hot peppers that will burn your skin, all of a sudden you’re on the street again. There was no loop, and you’ve certainly not seen the whole market, but all of a sudden it’s cars zooming past avoiding the people selling toiletries, underwear and hosiery from the tubs upon their heads. 

Full of flavors, tradition, and livelihood, the market is teeming with the vibrant essence of trade and survival – it’s nearly indescribable, and nothing but experience can do it justice – but being able to fully absorb all that takes place is just as impossible.

Number Three or So

So, two way cool things this weekend.

1) Worked a Haiti Benefit concert. Within a week, this good-size event was organized and promoted around the greater Accra area, with major stars lined up to perform, t-shirts featuring a prominent artist, and the joint efforts of community leaders. One of these leaders happens to be the associate director of the NYU in Ghana program, and she had us volunteer at the show. I worked with merchandise table with two great ladies, and then helped collect more money from the crowd, and then counted and recorded the totals. We made at LEAST $3,000 Ghana Cedis – this is an unofficial number, but still – it was a lot of money. It all went straight to the Red Cross fund for Haiti. This is the first of many events that will be going on – for all of you IN Ghana right now (we’ve established that in our program, more than several of us are blogging) text HIATI to 1962 – this will donate 1GhanaCedi from your phone card to the Red Cross. Talk about accessibly donating! So that was cool thi
ng number one.                 

2) This is cool thing number two. So, my roommate Nisha and I were walking to the local spot where we usually watch football games (think soccer, folks)   and this car pulls up alongside us. You’re thinking this isn’t going to end well, right? Wrong. The guy on the passenger side (side note: they drive on the same sides of the road as Americans, which I find just a little bit weird, since it was a british colony, and most things are spelled with a British tint) asked us if we liked soccer. We said yes, and he said we should go to this bar, Rockstone’s Office – we then realized (actually, Nisha realized) that the guy was actually Reggie Rockstone, promoting is own place. Reggie Rockstone also happens to be way famous in Ghanaian Hip Life culture. Wikipedia that (I’ve done it for you…click the link! [the wiki link was also Nisha’s idea. I’m definitely hijacking it]), and then realize how cool it is. But it gets better. It really does. He drives about ten feet away from us, stops again, and says he “forgot his gentlemanness” and offers us a ride there.  We took it. So we rolled into Rockstone’s Office with Reggie Rockstone. Yeah. It was cool. And THEN we got interviewed for live radio covering the match from the Office – Nisha knew way more about the game than I did, but still. It was quite an eventful afternoon, to say the least.

3) This is also cool – I just forgot about it during the intro. We had family dinner tonight! We all contributed food, and helped to cook/eat/clean! We made rice (a lot of rice), French fries, guacamole, plantain chips, a fruit salad/soup, and then had beans that weren’t quite ready for dinner, but they’re in the fridge and should be included. It was remarkably unplanned and surprisingly good. I’m impressed with us, and I have high hopes for our future endeavors. We were able to cook so much food because we have 3 stoves, 3 sinks and a ton of counter space. Believe me, we used it all. 

So, those are the highlights.

In other news, we have figured out our a/c situation. It was working SO well that we kept waking up in the middle of the night absolutely frozen. We are in Ghana. There is no reason for that! We finally figured out how to set it so it keeps it at one temperature by itself. Like I said. That’s just other news.

 As always, feel free to comment or drop me a line – I’d love to hear from you. If anyone knows anyone (at NYU or otherwise) who is thinking of studying abroad, send them this way – I’d be more than happy to talk to anyone!