Hey sorry I've been seriously slacking on the blog front. I'll begin with the Indepedence celebrations of early March. On the night before Independence Day (March 5th) we went to another concert and fireworks show, essentially a countdown to Independence. For the concert, they'd blocked off one of the main streets of Accra and set a stage up at one end, a massive glowing set behind a quarter mile of people filling the road. Zach and I arrived at 10 pm or so and, unable to see much, we bypassed the crowd using a dirt path that ran parallel to the road and was less crowded. We ended up about 20 ft. from the stage, on the side. President Kufour was holding a private reception in the Nkrumah Mausoleum, a building behind the stage, and from our viewpoint we could see various motorcades of diplomats and dignitaries entering the compound's gates. There was an almost palpable excitement in the air, fueled by the sleek black and flashing lights slipping behind the stage and the massive crowd. The entire crowd were waiting to be galvanized; there was so much potential energy. Everything seemed to be building to midnight. Eventually, a bit bored with the concert, we snuck backstage and made our way to the gate of the compound, where armed soldiers held the crowd back. We could see the building behind the gates, where Kufour was giving his speech. We tried to convince the guards to let us in but by the time we did, the speech was over. We were standing just inside the wall when midnight struck. Fireworks launched from within the compound into the night sky as motorcades began leaving, passing within feet of us. Even the soldiers turned around and watched the fireworks show; it was pretty spectacular. As everyone gazed skyward at the fireworks, I could really sense the pride that they all felt in their country. It was a time to forget their problems and just celebrate Indepedence, a time for everyone to be part of something bigger, to be a part of the liberation. It was really nice to be a part of it.
The next morning, Independence Day, we woke up at 5 am in the morning and made our way in the early morning light towards Independence Square, a flat concrete expanse bordered by bleachers and with the ocean as a backdrop. Indepedence Square was where the official indepedence celebrations were to take place. Driving through Accra on a tro-tro, all the storefronts had Ghanaian flags hanging from the windows. As we neared Independence Square, even in the early morning hours, the sidewalks became filled with Ghanaians draped in flags walking briskly towards the Square, clapping, chanting and waving flags. We got out and joined the crowd. Soon the street widened and there was Independence Square. The crowd broke into a run and photographers and video crews huddled on the periphery, capturing the scene. Running for our lives and getting a tad bit nervous, we climbed over the Square's fence with the rest of the mob and sprinted towards the bleachers to get a seat. The Square itself was where the parade was going to occur, so it was blocked off and the crowd gathered around the outside. In the square was a formation of Ghanaian tanks so sneaking onto the square was thrown out as an option. The next hour was spent walking around the massive circumfrence of the Square trying to find a seat. But even early in the morning, the big concrete grandstands were completely filled. So we eventually stood on a slight hill near the back of the Square, unable to see much except the tops of the tanks and the rising bleachers filled with people, feverishly waving the paper flags they were distributing. We stayed for about two hours, waiting for the festivities to begin as the viewing areas became more and more packed. There was a row of large trees along the back of the square and they became so filled with people that the entire tree began swaying. By nine the celebration still had not begun and we were already exhausted, since we'd gotten about two hours of sleep the night before. Since we couldn't see anything anyway and had already accumulated a thin film of dust, we decided to head back and watch it on TV. Walking toward the tro-tro station, against the procession of people heading towards the square, taxi's and other cars screeched by dangerously, passengers hanging out the windows waving flags. Back at home, I watched the parade on TV, which was an endless procession of military personnel and equipment followed by a long, somewhat uninspiring speech by President Kufour. Soon after, I fell asleep. So the Independence Day itself was a bit anticlimactic, though the morning was intense.
Gwen visited later in the month and it was an awesome, packed four days. The house received her very warmly, considerably more warmly in fact than they received Zach and I. Zach and I were amazed at how much some of the female members of the house like Ablanyo and Mama opened up to Gwen, actually engaging her in conversation, asking her questions, and expressing general interest in her, attention that we are utterly deprived of. We like to think that, rather than us being uninteresting, their reserved manner is culturally dictated. But who knows. At any rate it was really fun to see that side of them and to have them be so welcoming to Gwen.
Gwen and I spent some time in the batik, where we stamped and dyed t-shirts and skirts (hers came out much better than mine). Then we left with some friends to Senya Beraku, a coastal town about an hour west of Accra. We arrived at dusk, turning off the main road onto a red dirt road that wound through the coastal plain. It was dark by the time we reached the outskirts of town and soon the road ahead was filled with figures, eerily gray from the harsh headlights. The little wooden shacks along the road all had candles or lanterns hanging out front. We arrived where we'd be staying; an old slave fort on the beach converted (by Ghanaians) into a hotel of sorts. We soon went in search of food, up the main street. As we neared the town's center, the road became filled with people mingling. The candles on the vendors' tables lining the street made up for the lack of street lights. Little children were everywhere, darting in and out of the dark alleys between shacks. Soon we were surrounded by probably fourty kids screaming, "How are you? How are you?" It was fun but made being inconspicuous difficult. Perhaps I've mentioned this in the blog before, but the community feel of these towns is really impressive. Because people often don't have electricity, much less televisions, people mingle and interact with their neighbors instead of being holed up in their house. One of the effects of this is how socially at ease Ghanaians are; they can really talk with anybody. I'm always amazed when I with a Ghanaian friend and he or she meets another Ghanaian and before you know it, they're talking and joking like old pals. Anyway the next day we went to a beach and relaxed then headed home. That night Gwen and I went out to dinner and had a great time then returned so Gwen could pick out some fabrics from Grace's shop then off she went to the airport.
That week I got quite sick and went to the hospital to get checked out. To my dismay, soon I was admitted and hooked up to an IV. By that point I was feeling better and did not like the prospect of spending the night in the hospital. My discontent and boredom grew until around 9 pm when, after careful planning and consideration, made a somewhat feeble escape attempt. I unhooked the IV and stood, finding myself not quite as strong as I thought I was. I got as far as the hallway when a nurse yelled and asked what I was doing. Mumbling excuses, I hobbled back to bed. As I told Gwen later, I felt like an old man who was trying to escape the nursing home.
I still wasn't feeling 100 percent when Zach, Arielle and myself traveled up north to Mole National Park. The bus ride up to Tamale was about 14 hours in extremely cramped, smelly nearly suffocating quarters. We spent a day in Tamale, a predominantly Muslim, courteous and dusty city. A plump, jovial teenager named Mohammed took us around Tamale, first into a large, covered market. The beautiful, wrinkled faces of the old women vendors glowed from the light filtering through holes in the roof. After that we walked outside under the burning sun and walked in an outdoor network of alleys and huts. As we got farther from the road, I felt more and more like I'd stepped back in time. Goats wandered around the rough dirt paths past huts with thatched roofs and cookfires. It was quite odd to be in a place where everything was made from natural components; from the houses to the benches to the tools, I didn't see plastic once. Unfortunately, my ailment resurfaced and I became increasingly overheated and light-headed. Then Mohammed, whose idea of cultural sensitivity was different from ours, took us to the city's mosque to pray. Zach, with his dark skin, black hair and beard, was an infinitely more convincing Muslim than myself and I was dubious that they were going to believe Mohammed's story that I was a visiting Muslim also named Mohammed. We did the ritual bathing across the street from the three story, pink mosque, washing each limb three times as well as our face and head. Especially in my overheated state, the bathing was a very pleasant ritual. Then Mohammed led us into the first floor of the mosque, a quiet open space with prayer mats arranged in rows on the concrete floor. Lounging Muslims in the back eyed us with curiosity. We knelt on prayer mats and began the praying, me watching frantically out of the corner of my eye for the next move. I then realized that I was wearing the Christmas boxer shorts my mom had bought me and that they were exposed every time I knelt towards Mecca. I tucked my shirt in but Mohammed hissed at me to untuck it. Luckily the praying was soon finished and, after touring the roof, we departed for Mole National Park. As our bus bounced through the increasingly barren and dry savannah I began to feel sicker and hotter. The complete lack of infrastructure would've been interesting under normal circumstances, but as I was feeling sicker and sicker it was the last thing I wanted to see. By the time we got to Mole I couldn't stand for more than thirty seconds or so at a time and couldn't let any body part touch another because they were so hot. Being a good ten hours from the nearest decent hospital, I was terrified. I've never had such a bad fever in all my life and it just kept getting worse. All types of worst-case scenarios were running through my head. It was one of the first times in my life when I actually thought I could die. It was a very long night of dousing myself with water and wrapping towels around my head but by morning I really felt a great deal better and that day went on a game walk into the savannah with a small group and a guide. We stood on the banks of a watering hole where elephants bathed then saw antelope hiding in the brush and warthogs fearlessly grazing. At one point, while walking on a path through some brush, we stumbled across some more elephants and one of the elephants raised its ears and made all types of grunting sounds. The guide looked nervous and shouldered his rifle and told us to get back. Many, seeking a good photo, were reluctant. I think if the elephant had charged, half the group would've kept filming and snapping photos right up to the bitter end. Things just look like a movie through the viewfinder of a camera. Anyway we returned to the motel and took a nap. We were awoken by a somewhat frantic housekeeper who explained that the oranges we'd left outside had been shredded. "The baboons! The baboons!" she yelled at a bleary-eyed Zach who could only reply, "OK." We were dubious but as we stepped outside to head to the pool, a monkey dashed around the corner. We pursued it around the building onto the porch on the other side, which overlooked miles and miles of flat, green savannah. At the edge of the drop down to the savannah, more monkeys, were perched on branches and fallen logs, including a mother and baby monkey. We watched them intently and were thrilled initially when two drew closer. They spread out and walked towards the porch, where we were standing. Suddenly two very small hands grabbed onto a board of the porch's fence and a small, angry monkey's face appeared shortly thereafter, staring right up at us with beady, angry eyes. We all shrieked and turned to the right, but another monkey blocked our path. We sprinted towards our room as the monkeys pursued, me grabbing a large, unwieldly branch for self-defense. We got into the room and slammed the door. One monkey jumped up on the screen window. We stayed in the room for a good hour or so until finally leaving, armed with sticks. We didn't see any monkeys on the way to the pool but there were plenty of baboons strolling around, with their pretty, black, solemn faces and weird butts. The next morning we headed back to Tamale, where we had dinner on the roof of a large building, watching the tro-tro station gradually settle as the sun set. Then we counted down to my birthday with two Germans we'd met by drinking and playing cards at a table outside of our hostel. While they had few card games to teach us, they had plenty of drinking games with great names, including "carten-blasten" where you lay a deck of cards on top of a full glass of beer and try not to blow the last card off. The next morning we boarded a bus back to Accra.
The next morning Mom arrived and we had a really nice week. She brought a tape of various friends and family saying happy birthday. It was a lot of fun to listen to, thank you all for your contributions to that. It was excellent to see her and to catch up; we had some really nice talks. We walked around Jamestown (the colonial center of Accra) taking in the sights and smells of the fishing port and went to Ada Foah, the place at the mouth of the Volta River mentioned earlier. She also spent some quality time with the family, who, like with Gwen, took an instant liking to her. One night we went took Alex (my host brother) out to dinner and had an awesome time; Alex seemed to really enjoy himself. The last night she was here we went to dinner at Ama's sister's house (Ama and Kwaku are our Ghanaian friends from home). It was a very pleasant dinner, we sat outside as chicken grilled on the barbeque and the late-afternoon light filtered through the leaves and chatted with them for a good two or three hours. Ghanaians are so sociable they can really talk to anybody and make anybody feel at home. One thing I noticed about when my Mom visited was how much more respectful people were. There were fewer shouts of "obruni" and people were much more courteous in general. Age is really much more respected here than in the States; it must be nice to live in a culture where respect and societal recognition are something that's ahead of you and are accessible to virtually all instead of something that is fleeting and rare. Another thing that's much more common here is three-generation households, where the grandparents, children and grandchildren all live together or in close proximity. The grandparents thus play an important role in raising the kids and their acquired experience and wisdom are more accessible to the kids. It certainly seems to me like a model to emulate.
The day Mom left the CIEE group departed for the neighboring country of Togo. We stayed in the capital of Lome, which had been described somewhat generously as the Paris of Africa. It had the odd feel of a European city left to decay. Crumbling colonial mansions and buildings faced the palm tree-lined beaches and well-planned boulevards had developed massive cracks and potholes. The French influence was unmistakeable, baguettes replaced sugar and tea bread and motorbikes were all over. It was very fun to practice my French in a setting where it only had to be good enough for people to understand. Also, since French is also the second language for the Togolese, they speak it slower and are more understanding of mistakes than I hear the French are. Anyway, some highlights were going to a fetish (voodoo) market where tables around a dusty square were covered with chimpanzee and dog heads, horse skulls, dead, enormous snakes, and elephant feet. All the various body parts, if crushed to a powder and ingested, supposedly cure ailments. Some of the claims were dubious, such as crushing and ingesting an elephant's foot to cure elephantiasis, but who knows, perhaps it does work. After that we toured the Grand Marche then Molly, Dan I strolled around the streets for a bit, eventually finding a very tall hotel and taking an elevator to the 37th floor where there was an incredible view. Lome, squeezed onto a strip of land between the ocean and the marshy Lake Togo, stretched ahead for miles, and plumes of smoke rose from a large fire to the North. Quite a sight. Then we rode motorbike taxis around for a bit which was a blast.
OK that's all the trips undertaken as far as I can think of. Some other developments... Maownefea, another of our host brothers, recently got a harmonica so we've had a couple jam sessions which have been fun, me playing chords and him soloing on top. Also, I've been actually doing work at the Dodowa Health Center which has been satisfying. Perhaps I've already mentioned this but I've been working primarily in the lab. One day, after just sitting there for two hours, I went up to the head of the lab and demanded to be given something to do. He responded really well and now I actually feel like I'm making a contribution. Directness is really important here; sublety doesn't get you too far. While it can be exhausting and frustrating to have to lay everything out perfectly clearly, there are benefits. For example, transgressions at the house at dealt with immediately with clear, verbal confrontation. A short argument ensues then the matter is finished. Such a communication system, which doesn't ask one person to try to read the mind and body language of another, prevents small disagreements from building into impasses.
Recently at Dodowa, I did some home visits with Pascal, a lab tech. We went to a village to check up on a patient. The village was only accessible by a series of increasingly narrow and rough dirt roads. By the end the Toyota 4Runner was bouncing over ditchs and rocks with branches scraping the side. The path eventually opened to a small clearing with three or four huts. The patient was a teenage, single mother who was quite sick with what appeared to be malaria combined with something else. The thing that really struck me was how concerned her parents were; they could've easily been parents at an Emergency Room in the States. For some reason, I'd callously assumed that people here were more desensitized to death because of its increased frequency. But finding that this was not case made the poor state of the healthcare system even more disturbing. I really wanted to be able to help more but like I've done most of my life, I just observed, unable to assist.
Life at the house has been about the same. I set up a basketball hoop using a cardboard box and rope and me and the two young girls Abigail and Stephanie and their friend played a very fun though highly dramatic game of basketball. While I may be technically part of the house, I still feel and am treated as a guest and outsider and sometimes get the impression they're thinking, "Don't you have your own family?" It will nice to return to a family that actually cares about me. I'm close with Alex and we often go across to the bar across the street to have deep, philosophical conversations, yelling over the blasting Celine Dion music.
OK that's it for now, I try to fill in some of the holes and add reflections one exams are finished. All's good though I'm starting to itch for the comfort and familiarity of home! Hope all's well!
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
ada foah, etc.
hi everyone. well a magical time to recount. this past weekend our travel group of 6 friends headed off to ada foah, a town near the mouth of the volta river, the largest river in ghana. To get to Ada Foah, it's necessary to take a boat from Ada (on the river) downstream towards the coast. We ate in Ada then boarded a long, thin wooden boat and headed for the coast. As we chugged down the wide river, hugging one bank, the sights on land were incredible. large, colorful fishing vessels were beached on the sand, and behind them a lazy forest of palm trees in which were small, grey huts with palm leaf roofs. Kids played in the water and often the bank would open to a shaded cove with more activity. in the soft afternoon light, it almost seemed unreal, as if this place should only exist in movies. we were all giddy, laughing, breathing in the air, our eyes wide. eventually we reached the strip of beach that separated the river from the ocean and pulled into a cove with the strip of beach on one side and a shaded fishing village wrapping around the rest of it. we passed the inland point of the cove and on it there were villagers lying in hammocks tied between palm trees and chopping up coconuts. the place we were staying was a series of rustic beach huts right on the beach ($3 p/night). when we pulled up to shore, we could hear the ocean crashing but couldn't see it over the rise in the sand. we eagerly hopped off the boat and dug out feet into the sand. we'd landed in paradise. after dropping off our stuff we climbed up over the hump in the beach and ran down to the ocean. the beach stretched as far as i could see in either direction, the beach framed by palm trees and the ocean. the undertow was actually pretty vicious and two of our group were nearly sucked out to sea so we didnt go back in but opted instead to swim in the cove. afterwards, i sat in a chair facing the cove and river beyond and read for awhile, often glancing out at the various watercraft that passed by, from dinghy's with bed-sheets as sails to large rowboats with eight or so rowers. as the sun slowly set, a thin mist settled over the volta river and soon i could only see the dark outlines of these boats. after reading about three pages in my book, i went down the beach with arielle and mollie to a cluster of palm trees to buy some coconuts then we headed back and we all had dinner under a thatched roof. after dinner zach arielle and i ran out into the dusk and onto the eerie beach and just jogged down the beach awhile. when we returned we met some brits on their gap year and hung out with them for awhile then the owner of the huts built a bonfire on the beach and some teenagers from the village came over and did this great dance performance. after we sat on the sand near the flickering light of the bonfire and looked up at the sky. i eventually took a short walk on the beach and it was incredible. it was very dark so i could only see the outline of the huts, the bonfire in the distance and the gray sand immediately surrounding me. i could see the full expanse of the sky, from one horizon to another and as the wind whipped down the beach i felt like i was in some desert.
anyway the next morning we woke up very early to see the sunrise so we walked out onto the beach and stared at the grey sky, waiting for about an hour. some fisherman walked by and stared at this dumb group of white kids waiting for the sun rise. soon one of us spotted the sun, but it was already a good ways up in the sky and had just poked through a gap in the clouds. a little disappointing. that day we took a boat to a rum village where they make rum from smushing sugarcane. it was a very fun trip and i really began to feel comfortable with the group. i had a good talk with zach about how i didnt feel comfortable or natural with other members of the group and his idea was that if you dont feel comfortable with new people, instead of avoiding contact with them, spend more time with them. sounds incredibly simple and obvious but i needed it. also, spending excessive time alone can sometimes cause me to obsess over my faults and magnify them out of proportion until i feel that i cant relate to other people, when in fact i can. so ive found all this quite helpful and have really been trying harder to bounce ideas and feelings off people to get fresh perspectives, cause i can work myself into a mental frenzy if i dont.
anyway, in other news, ghana (finally) passed a bill outlawing domestic violence against spouse and kids, though there is still some confusion here whether it's still legal to rape your wife. also, everyone here is very excited about the upcoming 50th anniversary of ghana's independence from britain. it is this tuesday, march 6th and celebrations are already beginning. last night (saturday) me and three friends went to a "highlife to hiplife" concert on the parking lot in front of the national parliament building. hiplife is a combination of the more traditional highlife music and hip hop. an artist called abrafuor (probably butchered the spelling) performed and was really good and got the crowd really going.
in the papers, there have been a lot of editorials questioning the fervor with which people are celebrating ghana's independence. one editorial worried that people are focused too much on the independence while losing sight of how far ghana still has to go. another said that ghana should have made more progress in the last fifty years towards true autonomy. for example, according to one of our lectures, much of the independence celebrations themselves are being funded by the united states and over 50% of the national budget comes from foreign aid (uganda's is over 90% from foreign aid). additionally, ghana has to import nearly everything. virtually nothing, even stuff that could be produced here, is made in ghana. even a lot of the cocoa beans are sold out then bought back as chocolate, though there is some domestically produced chocolate. but its quite disheartening how manipulated a lot of these countries are by large companies and even by our own government. the first leader of ghana, nkrumah, was overthrown by the cia-funded coup when he tried to make ghana more self-sufficient. for example, nkrumah built a tire factory so ghana wouldn't have to buy tires from outside. after the coup, the factory was turned over to firestone. also a lot of the multinational corporations operating here (like the gold industry) reap nearly all the profits of natural resources that are in ghana, simply because ghana doesnt (yet) have the technology to build its own mines. and the money that the ghanaian government does get from the industry doesnt seem to go to the average joe. the sad thing is im sure its far, far worse in a lot of the other countries in africa, as ghana is one of the most developed and democratic countries here.
anyway ive also begun work at a rural health clinic about 40 minutes away. the clinic, situated near the town of dodowa (a town known for its mangos), specializes in childrens health and nutrition. the first day i was there (monday) i went with several nurses on an outreach program into the village of dodowa to check on the young kids in the village. the nurses did physical exams and made sure all the kids had a full set of vaccinations, which, surprisingly, they all did. with the national health insurance plan here, adults pay $12 dollars a year ($2 for children) for health insurance. the outreach program was really interesting and the nurses were extremely helpful and talkative and translated a lot of the conversations, since my Twi language skills are still pretty primitive. they said the primary health concerns here for children are malnutrition and malaria. anyway it was very interesting walking through the scattered village and sitting outside mudhuts hearing mothers talk about their children. the nurses told the mom's how to realistically give their kids nutritional meals (like adding fish powder to pourridge) and i was really impressed. we also visited some more isolated huts and it was fun walking on these narrow paths lined with mango and banana trees.
on friday i returned and worked in the clinic's pharmacy. the pharmacist was not loving life. he had come here three years ago to do his year of compulsory national service but because of some glitch or mistake, he still had not been released or assigned elsewhere. all i could think of was milton from office space. but he was actually a very nice guy and was very interested to hear about the american health care system and was astounded that there are poor people in america.
ok well that's all for now, sorry it took me so long to write this, hopefully i will update again soon. gwen arrives in 9 days cant wait! the family is excited to meet her.
anyway the next morning we woke up very early to see the sunrise so we walked out onto the beach and stared at the grey sky, waiting for about an hour. some fisherman walked by and stared at this dumb group of white kids waiting for the sun rise. soon one of us spotted the sun, but it was already a good ways up in the sky and had just poked through a gap in the clouds. a little disappointing. that day we took a boat to a rum village where they make rum from smushing sugarcane. it was a very fun trip and i really began to feel comfortable with the group. i had a good talk with zach about how i didnt feel comfortable or natural with other members of the group and his idea was that if you dont feel comfortable with new people, instead of avoiding contact with them, spend more time with them. sounds incredibly simple and obvious but i needed it. also, spending excessive time alone can sometimes cause me to obsess over my faults and magnify them out of proportion until i feel that i cant relate to other people, when in fact i can. so ive found all this quite helpful and have really been trying harder to bounce ideas and feelings off people to get fresh perspectives, cause i can work myself into a mental frenzy if i dont.
anyway, in other news, ghana (finally) passed a bill outlawing domestic violence against spouse and kids, though there is still some confusion here whether it's still legal to rape your wife. also, everyone here is very excited about the upcoming 50th anniversary of ghana's independence from britain. it is this tuesday, march 6th and celebrations are already beginning. last night (saturday) me and three friends went to a "highlife to hiplife" concert on the parking lot in front of the national parliament building. hiplife is a combination of the more traditional highlife music and hip hop. an artist called abrafuor (probably butchered the spelling) performed and was really good and got the crowd really going.
in the papers, there have been a lot of editorials questioning the fervor with which people are celebrating ghana's independence. one editorial worried that people are focused too much on the independence while losing sight of how far ghana still has to go. another said that ghana should have made more progress in the last fifty years towards true autonomy. for example, according to one of our lectures, much of the independence celebrations themselves are being funded by the united states and over 50% of the national budget comes from foreign aid (uganda's is over 90% from foreign aid). additionally, ghana has to import nearly everything. virtually nothing, even stuff that could be produced here, is made in ghana. even a lot of the cocoa beans are sold out then bought back as chocolate, though there is some domestically produced chocolate. but its quite disheartening how manipulated a lot of these countries are by large companies and even by our own government. the first leader of ghana, nkrumah, was overthrown by the cia-funded coup when he tried to make ghana more self-sufficient. for example, nkrumah built a tire factory so ghana wouldn't have to buy tires from outside. after the coup, the factory was turned over to firestone. also a lot of the multinational corporations operating here (like the gold industry) reap nearly all the profits of natural resources that are in ghana, simply because ghana doesnt (yet) have the technology to build its own mines. and the money that the ghanaian government does get from the industry doesnt seem to go to the average joe. the sad thing is im sure its far, far worse in a lot of the other countries in africa, as ghana is one of the most developed and democratic countries here.
anyway ive also begun work at a rural health clinic about 40 minutes away. the clinic, situated near the town of dodowa (a town known for its mangos), specializes in childrens health and nutrition. the first day i was there (monday) i went with several nurses on an outreach program into the village of dodowa to check on the young kids in the village. the nurses did physical exams and made sure all the kids had a full set of vaccinations, which, surprisingly, they all did. with the national health insurance plan here, adults pay $12 dollars a year ($2 for children) for health insurance. the outreach program was really interesting and the nurses were extremely helpful and talkative and translated a lot of the conversations, since my Twi language skills are still pretty primitive. they said the primary health concerns here for children are malnutrition and malaria. anyway it was very interesting walking through the scattered village and sitting outside mudhuts hearing mothers talk about their children. the nurses told the mom's how to realistically give their kids nutritional meals (like adding fish powder to pourridge) and i was really impressed. we also visited some more isolated huts and it was fun walking on these narrow paths lined with mango and banana trees.
on friday i returned and worked in the clinic's pharmacy. the pharmacist was not loving life. he had come here three years ago to do his year of compulsory national service but because of some glitch or mistake, he still had not been released or assigned elsewhere. all i could think of was milton from office space. but he was actually a very nice guy and was very interested to hear about the american health care system and was astounded that there are poor people in america.
ok well that's all for now, sorry it took me so long to write this, hopefully i will update again soon. gwen arrives in 9 days cant wait! the family is excited to meet her.
Sunday, February 4, 2007
koforidua trip, osu visit
hi, lots to report. the internet cafe has been off and on and when it's been on it's not fast enough to access the blogger site. but they say they've fixed the problem so....
just to warn you, it's going to be a very long entry as a lot has happened.
last friday night several of us went to a club in downtown accra. The city streets were deserted on the cab ride there, an interesting contrast to the bustle during the day. but the club itself was a happening place, even if there wasnt much going on around it. there were sleek cars out front and enormous bouncers at the entrance. before getting there, we were planning to try to bargain down the cover charge but when one of the bouncers, who ressembled the incredible hulk, demanded $10 USD there was complete and immediate compliance. inside, the club was very bizarre, it was slightly reminiscent of a laser tag arena, but with worse music. it was an odd crowd, mostly aging expats though some ghanaians showed up later. i really was curious what they're stories were, how they ended up in accra, ghana. i can't say the club was really enjoyable, i don't think clubs are really my thing, it's kind of difficult to have a conversation with anybody when shakira is busting your eardrums, so people seem to just either dance or sit around trying to look suave. im bad at both.
last week four of us visited osu, a neighborhood in accra that catering to oburoni's (foreigners). there are still open gutters and trash strewn everywhere but the main street is lined with two story, air-conditioned "western" hangouts and food spots with clean tiled floors. we went at night and found an outdoor bar to sit at and watched these three incredible gymnasts, not older than 14 years old, performing on the street, dodging taxis and traffic while doing back flips and forming these human pyramids. when we sat down we were swarmed by very desperate-looking kids, dressed in rags, asking for money. here we were enjoying a beer and kids didn't even have enough to eat. it's strange, but it was really here, in the most Westernized and "developed" part of the city where i was first struck by the poverty here. everyday on my walk to school i pass shacks and huts but i dont get a sense of desperation, there appears to be some type of communal safety net. it's so cheap to live in that neighborhood that most people seem to at least have enough to eat. shop owners regularly give food away free, making us feel stingy for not indulging everyone person who asks for money. the generosity here is impressive, our house is an example, our host parents have taken in at least twenty people and are supporting them. but in a more western environment like osu, the poor seem much more vulnerable. i dont know whether it was simply the contrast of their situation to the relative affluence of osu (which would make them more aware of their own poverty) or if, in an environment where people are urged to strive to improve their material situation, they're less likely to give as generously. but anyway, we were all quite uneasy and headed back.
also this week we attended a cultural dance night at the university performed by a ghanaian dance troupe. it was held in this outdoor amphitheater surrounded by palm trees and looking up at the night sky through the palm leaves as the african drums beat, i really felt as if i was in africa! the dance groupe were all from northern ghana, which the exception of a 7 foot tall danish white guy who had joined the group a year ago. as you can imagine, he kinda stuck out and it was hard to watch anybody else. during one intermission, the m.c., a ghanaian student, called the danish dude to come to the stage and the m.c. interviewed him, asking him what country he was from, what he'd learned. the m.c. concluded by saying how this showed that oburonis could do african dances as well. it was quite awkward, as it seemed to unnecessarily mark this danish guy, and all of us in fact, as different and as outsiders. but zach pointed out that in the u.s. we do the same to african-americans, interviewing african american corporate execs or minority scholarship students. while it is done with usually the best of intentions, perhaps we are really only highlighting their outsider status.
also, we went to this place nearby called the living room, which is a really cool idea for a movie theater that i'm surprised hasn't caught on in the u.s. anyway it consists of a lot of smaller viewing rooms which fit maybe ten to twenty people so you go with a group and rent a room and pick from a list of movies. on the walk back, it was late and it was a full moon and the streets were empty save for feral dogs skulking around. these two guys emerged from a dark gap between two shops and started following us speaking in hushed voices and walking quickly and nervously, with straightened legs as if to conceal that they were trying to catch up with us. all our hearts started pounding as we were pretty sure we were going to get mugged. as i was looking at the road in front of me, i swear i could see every single pebble and grain of sand. all i could think of was how well my sympathetic nervous system was kicking in. but i didnt need it as i guess they decided against the mugging as there were four of us. or maybe they were just trying to scare us.
on a more upbeat note, im starting to get to know to know the neighborhood better. there's an elementary school around the corner with a dirt soccer field and apparently on monday afternoons a group of retired and current professional soccer players play on this school field just for fun. unfortunately ive got twi language class during that block but im definitely going to skip the class at least once to check it out. a lot of professional footballers live in east legon, including Pele, whose name sounds familiar. he actually lives two houses down from ours and our host father is good friends with him. i'll have to google him.
on the subject of football, the whole country got all geared up for an international friendly match between ghana's national team, the black stars, and their archrival nigeria, who ghana has not beat in 14 years. we went to jerry's (the outdoor patio bar across the street) and watched the game. since this was the only place nearby with power, the whole neighborhood crowded onto the patio and crowded at the gaps of the lattice partitions which seperate the patio from the street. a vendor cooked kabobs on the street and everyone passed around star beers. people came wearing the green, yellow and red Ghanaian flag draped over their shoulders. ghana scored 4 goals in the second half and after each goal people got up and danced ecstatically and uncontrollably, just out of pure joy. it was almost like being at an evangelical church service, everyone was being touched by the football gods and practically speaking tongues. ghana ended up winning and afterwards cars sped down lagos avenue honking their horns and holding the flags out the window.
also this week, i was eating lunch at the night market, (an outdoor collection of vendors situated on the edge of campus, overlooking an expanse of dry, shrubby land) and all of a sudden a woman started screaming and ran out of one of the cooking tents about twenty feet away. a crowd gathered and two guys holding clubs ran into the cooking tent. a very long, skinny green snake promptly slithered out and started booking it for the brush. they caught up to it and killed it then held it up, it was probably around 4 or 5 feet long but quite thin, certainly the biggest snake ive ever seen. from then on i've stuck to the paths.
this past saturday, zach, myself and five other CIEE kids (mollie, dan, ariel, lauren and sabrina) headed off to Kofidura, a city about two hours inland from Accra. We'd heard that there was a very nice waterfall near the city and we were all itching to get away from the chaos of Accra. We took a tro-tro (van) there and soon we left the mutilated, chaotic landscape of the metropolitan area and after about forty minutes reached some large hills which just seem to spring up suddenly from the flat coastal plain. the ride up these hills was great, passing herds of cattle and overlooking the dotted plain below. as we got further inland, the landscape became more lush, hilly and rural. we passed by several villages with mud huts, shaded by palm trees. the scenery was incredible, distant green hills formed the backdrop to closer plains with the occasional, enormous, top-heavy tree. african xylaphone music played on the radio and as we bumped along in the crowded van, I felt quite exhilirated by the complete newness of the experience. at one point, we heard sirens around a bend in the road and a second later a police motorcycle flew around the corner, nearly clipping our trotro. the trotro driver swerved off the road just as a police suv came around as well. the police cars kept coming, all going ridiculously fast then came some luxury suvs with small ghanaian flags flapping from the hood, tinted windows and tires screeching. according to the tro tro driver, it was the president of ghana, kufour. i hope he was wearing his seatbelt.
eventually we rolled into kofidura, a city surrounded by hills. we pulled into the busy trotro station and after walking through some narrow streets packed with wooden shacks selling things, we got some lunch. after lunch we decided to try to get to the waterfall, where there was supposed to be a hotel. the city and surrounding hills were sunny but behind the hills the sky was black. i almost felt like i was in some holy city or something. as we hunted for a tro tro that would take us to this obscure waterfall, the clouds moved in and the wind picked up. all the vendors' wares which were hanging from the trees began to blow off so soccer jerseys and wind pants were flying everywhere as the vendors tried to grab them. we approached an empty tro tro and asked if they were headed towards the fall and they initially said no. but as we walked away the driver and his friend exchanged some words then said, "get in." usually trotros have designated routes and you just hop on, they dont usually do charters so we were a little suspicious but since it began to pour we started to pile in. two more guys arrived, who appeared to be friends of the driver. they talked in twi for a bit. we were all in the trotro, feeling a bit uneasy and vulnerable. then they told the biggest guy in our group, dan, that he had to sit in the back of the trotro, which also seemed odd. the driver and his friend got in front, then the two large friends got in with us, sitting in a backward facing seat at the front, which most trotros dont have. at this point i had a really uneasy feeling, a kind of charged restlessness, as did everyone else in the group. they closed the sliding door and we realized all the windows were latched shut. before we got going one kid in our group said, "we forgot something at the restaurant, we need to go get it. can you let us out?" a couple people outside were looking at us so after some more unintelligible conversation, they let us out. who knows what they were up to but we'd been warned of robbings of oburonis.
we eventually bit the bullet and took a taxi, which are more expensive, to the waterfall, which was a half hour out of town on a windy, remote road through a misty valley. it was late afternoon by the time we arrived, at which point we were informed that there was a funeral in the village and so all the rooms of the hostel were taken. just wanting a place to crash we inquired further and they said there was a large utility closet where the seven of us could stay. we checked it out, it was a concrete floor with stacks of plastic chairs, a bicycle and a few bags of concrete but we said we'd take. the rate was reasonable, $5 USD total for the seven of us. after dropping our stuff off, a tour guide took us from the campsite down a couple hundred stone stairs through the jungle to the swimming hole at the base of the waterfall. since the waterfall wasn't actually running since it's the dry season, the swimming hole was actually a stagnant, shallow pool. but zach and dan were determined to make the most of the experience and so we climbed up underneath the massive ledge where the water would fall if there was water. the waterfall must be a couple hundred feet up and really must be really impressive during the rainy season. standing well below the ledge, if you looked straight up at the overhang there was a real sense of vertigo. looking out from our perch we could see the thick canopy off the distance. it was a really beautiful and almost mystical area, but i was too tired and thirsty to really appreciate it. on the way down we saw a snakeskin. good lord, the thing was at least six feet long! one of the girls in our group, lauren, who is from the mountains of colorado, said that the skin probably belonged to a rock python. i asked how she knew this. "because i have one," she replied. so we learned a little about lauren on this trip. anyway, after returning from the falls i took a nap and when i awoke it was time for dinner. it was dark and we brought our lantern to this tin-roofed lean-too with a picnic table and a women from the small village across the street from the campgrounds brought us rice and stew. huddled around the picnic table in our lantern-lit leantoo (the park didnt have power), outside was pitch black, I felt as if I was in the middle of nowhere. the campgrounds were deserted save for the campground manager and the campgrounds were surrounded by wilderness except for the small village across the street. we began to hear the beats of music coming from the darkness in the direction of the village. we asked the park manager, a recent graduate from the university of ghana who was doing his year of civil service, if the music was from the funeral and he said yes. dan asked if we could go to the funeral and the manager initially said that it wasn't safe as a lot of random and questionable people showed up to these funeral parties but then said that he and the tour guide would accompany us there but that we shouldn't stay for long. the park manager grabbed a flashlight and our waterfall tourguide brought up the rear with the lantern and we left the park grounds into the steamy darkness. the tourguide, who was in his sixties, stopped at a makeshift bar across the street to take a couple shots then we proceeeded down the country road. i could barely make out the silver of the pavement, everything else was pitch black. lauren, mollie, sabrina and ariel all held hands and all talked in nervous whispers but i honestly wasn't that nervous, just excited and alive. every so often a dark silhouette would emerge immediately in front of us on the road (we couldnt see very far) and it would startle us. as we neared the music, there were more and more people standing on the road, all staring at us for even in the dark they could tell there was something different about us. we turned off the road onto a narrow path through some vegetation towards the music. the music was quite loud now and we could hear shouts and laughs. i caught glimpses of light and fires through gaps in the trees and almost felt like i was on treasure island or something. we passed more people on the path, solemnly staring at us, and i certainly felt a bit out of place. i was also a bit worried that we were going to be intruding on something and taking the focus away from the deceased. the path opened to a clearing, revealing a dirt dance floor packed with kids and old women. lamps, powered by a generator, hung from the thatched roof above the dance floor and provided light, as did a couple fires at the edges of the clearing. there were a lot of plastic chairs set up going up the hill to the right and probably about twenty men sat in them, facing the dance floor. the camp manager had us greet some of them though the loud, upbeat pop music made introductions difficult. we were then pulled onto the dance floor and started dancing with the women and kids. the beat of the music was incredibly fast and i pretty much was just flailing about awkwardly but it was still fun and the little kids were great dancers and everyone made us feel quite at ease. after awhile, we left and headed back. by now the moon had risen above the ridge to the left (east?) and was a very dark orange. it was quite a sight, as were the clear stars above and we got all felt pretty fine.
the next morning around seven we awoke and the village spokesmen came to greet us. he took us through the bright morning to the clearing again to meet the elders of the village, a customary practice for visitors to a funeral. he took us through the village, past the mudpacked huts, to meet the elders and the village chief. the village chief was dressed in a traditional robe but the other elders were in t-shirts and shorts. we thanked them then the village chief wanted us to have our picture taken with him then we had breakfast back at the campground. after breakfast our tourguide took us through the jungle, past a cave filled with massive spider skeletons, then up a steep hill to "umbrella rock,"which is a massive, flat rock perched on a smaller rock situated at the peak of a grassy hill. from the top we had a nice view of the hills and valleys around. in the valley to the west we could see a couple red roofs in the midst of the dense vegetation and could hear music coming from here. apparently it was a church service. dan wanted to see the church service, which again i thought was a little intrusive, but the tour guide said no problem so off we went to this new village. we got to the village, which was dug out of a hill, and we were ushered into the church which was packed, the women in colorful dresses and head wraps and the men in shirts and ties. the sermon was in twi but it was interspersed with songs, which were led by a band with an electric guitar, a drum set and a bass. we made a donation to the church then they warmed up to us quite a bit and wanted us to dance in the aisle and the band stared playing and there we were dancing in the aisle surrounded by smiling faces and clapping hands. we eventually danced on out of the church. i felt very bad about intruding on their church thing but they really didnt seem to mind. after that we took a trotro back to accra.
ok that's all for now, i'll try to post some reflections on my trip so far and fill in some of the gaps with another blog entry soon but right now im kind of tired of writing. hope alls well, i miss you all!
just to warn you, it's going to be a very long entry as a lot has happened.
last friday night several of us went to a club in downtown accra. The city streets were deserted on the cab ride there, an interesting contrast to the bustle during the day. but the club itself was a happening place, even if there wasnt much going on around it. there were sleek cars out front and enormous bouncers at the entrance. before getting there, we were planning to try to bargain down the cover charge but when one of the bouncers, who ressembled the incredible hulk, demanded $10 USD there was complete and immediate compliance. inside, the club was very bizarre, it was slightly reminiscent of a laser tag arena, but with worse music. it was an odd crowd, mostly aging expats though some ghanaians showed up later. i really was curious what they're stories were, how they ended up in accra, ghana. i can't say the club was really enjoyable, i don't think clubs are really my thing, it's kind of difficult to have a conversation with anybody when shakira is busting your eardrums, so people seem to just either dance or sit around trying to look suave. im bad at both.
last week four of us visited osu, a neighborhood in accra that catering to oburoni's (foreigners). there are still open gutters and trash strewn everywhere but the main street is lined with two story, air-conditioned "western" hangouts and food spots with clean tiled floors. we went at night and found an outdoor bar to sit at and watched these three incredible gymnasts, not older than 14 years old, performing on the street, dodging taxis and traffic while doing back flips and forming these human pyramids. when we sat down we were swarmed by very desperate-looking kids, dressed in rags, asking for money. here we were enjoying a beer and kids didn't even have enough to eat. it's strange, but it was really here, in the most Westernized and "developed" part of the city where i was first struck by the poverty here. everyday on my walk to school i pass shacks and huts but i dont get a sense of desperation, there appears to be some type of communal safety net. it's so cheap to live in that neighborhood that most people seem to at least have enough to eat. shop owners regularly give food away free, making us feel stingy for not indulging everyone person who asks for money. the generosity here is impressive, our house is an example, our host parents have taken in at least twenty people and are supporting them. but in a more western environment like osu, the poor seem much more vulnerable. i dont know whether it was simply the contrast of their situation to the relative affluence of osu (which would make them more aware of their own poverty) or if, in an environment where people are urged to strive to improve their material situation, they're less likely to give as generously. but anyway, we were all quite uneasy and headed back.
also this week we attended a cultural dance night at the university performed by a ghanaian dance troupe. it was held in this outdoor amphitheater surrounded by palm trees and looking up at the night sky through the palm leaves as the african drums beat, i really felt as if i was in africa! the dance groupe were all from northern ghana, which the exception of a 7 foot tall danish white guy who had joined the group a year ago. as you can imagine, he kinda stuck out and it was hard to watch anybody else. during one intermission, the m.c., a ghanaian student, called the danish dude to come to the stage and the m.c. interviewed him, asking him what country he was from, what he'd learned. the m.c. concluded by saying how this showed that oburonis could do african dances as well. it was quite awkward, as it seemed to unnecessarily mark this danish guy, and all of us in fact, as different and as outsiders. but zach pointed out that in the u.s. we do the same to african-americans, interviewing african american corporate execs or minority scholarship students. while it is done with usually the best of intentions, perhaps we are really only highlighting their outsider status.
also, we went to this place nearby called the living room, which is a really cool idea for a movie theater that i'm surprised hasn't caught on in the u.s. anyway it consists of a lot of smaller viewing rooms which fit maybe ten to twenty people so you go with a group and rent a room and pick from a list of movies. on the walk back, it was late and it was a full moon and the streets were empty save for feral dogs skulking around. these two guys emerged from a dark gap between two shops and started following us speaking in hushed voices and walking quickly and nervously, with straightened legs as if to conceal that they were trying to catch up with us. all our hearts started pounding as we were pretty sure we were going to get mugged. as i was looking at the road in front of me, i swear i could see every single pebble and grain of sand. all i could think of was how well my sympathetic nervous system was kicking in. but i didnt need it as i guess they decided against the mugging as there were four of us. or maybe they were just trying to scare us.
on a more upbeat note, im starting to get to know to know the neighborhood better. there's an elementary school around the corner with a dirt soccer field and apparently on monday afternoons a group of retired and current professional soccer players play on this school field just for fun. unfortunately ive got twi language class during that block but im definitely going to skip the class at least once to check it out. a lot of professional footballers live in east legon, including Pele, whose name sounds familiar. he actually lives two houses down from ours and our host father is good friends with him. i'll have to google him.
on the subject of football, the whole country got all geared up for an international friendly match between ghana's national team, the black stars, and their archrival nigeria, who ghana has not beat in 14 years. we went to jerry's (the outdoor patio bar across the street) and watched the game. since this was the only place nearby with power, the whole neighborhood crowded onto the patio and crowded at the gaps of the lattice partitions which seperate the patio from the street. a vendor cooked kabobs on the street and everyone passed around star beers. people came wearing the green, yellow and red Ghanaian flag draped over their shoulders. ghana scored 4 goals in the second half and after each goal people got up and danced ecstatically and uncontrollably, just out of pure joy. it was almost like being at an evangelical church service, everyone was being touched by the football gods and practically speaking tongues. ghana ended up winning and afterwards cars sped down lagos avenue honking their horns and holding the flags out the window.
also this week, i was eating lunch at the night market, (an outdoor collection of vendors situated on the edge of campus, overlooking an expanse of dry, shrubby land) and all of a sudden a woman started screaming and ran out of one of the cooking tents about twenty feet away. a crowd gathered and two guys holding clubs ran into the cooking tent. a very long, skinny green snake promptly slithered out and started booking it for the brush. they caught up to it and killed it then held it up, it was probably around 4 or 5 feet long but quite thin, certainly the biggest snake ive ever seen. from then on i've stuck to the paths.
this past saturday, zach, myself and five other CIEE kids (mollie, dan, ariel, lauren and sabrina) headed off to Kofidura, a city about two hours inland from Accra. We'd heard that there was a very nice waterfall near the city and we were all itching to get away from the chaos of Accra. We took a tro-tro (van) there and soon we left the mutilated, chaotic landscape of the metropolitan area and after about forty minutes reached some large hills which just seem to spring up suddenly from the flat coastal plain. the ride up these hills was great, passing herds of cattle and overlooking the dotted plain below. as we got further inland, the landscape became more lush, hilly and rural. we passed by several villages with mud huts, shaded by palm trees. the scenery was incredible, distant green hills formed the backdrop to closer plains with the occasional, enormous, top-heavy tree. african xylaphone music played on the radio and as we bumped along in the crowded van, I felt quite exhilirated by the complete newness of the experience. at one point, we heard sirens around a bend in the road and a second later a police motorcycle flew around the corner, nearly clipping our trotro. the trotro driver swerved off the road just as a police suv came around as well. the police cars kept coming, all going ridiculously fast then came some luxury suvs with small ghanaian flags flapping from the hood, tinted windows and tires screeching. according to the tro tro driver, it was the president of ghana, kufour. i hope he was wearing his seatbelt.
eventually we rolled into kofidura, a city surrounded by hills. we pulled into the busy trotro station and after walking through some narrow streets packed with wooden shacks selling things, we got some lunch. after lunch we decided to try to get to the waterfall, where there was supposed to be a hotel. the city and surrounding hills were sunny but behind the hills the sky was black. i almost felt like i was in some holy city or something. as we hunted for a tro tro that would take us to this obscure waterfall, the clouds moved in and the wind picked up. all the vendors' wares which were hanging from the trees began to blow off so soccer jerseys and wind pants were flying everywhere as the vendors tried to grab them. we approached an empty tro tro and asked if they were headed towards the fall and they initially said no. but as we walked away the driver and his friend exchanged some words then said, "get in." usually trotros have designated routes and you just hop on, they dont usually do charters so we were a little suspicious but since it began to pour we started to pile in. two more guys arrived, who appeared to be friends of the driver. they talked in twi for a bit. we were all in the trotro, feeling a bit uneasy and vulnerable. then they told the biggest guy in our group, dan, that he had to sit in the back of the trotro, which also seemed odd. the driver and his friend got in front, then the two large friends got in with us, sitting in a backward facing seat at the front, which most trotros dont have. at this point i had a really uneasy feeling, a kind of charged restlessness, as did everyone else in the group. they closed the sliding door and we realized all the windows were latched shut. before we got going one kid in our group said, "we forgot something at the restaurant, we need to go get it. can you let us out?" a couple people outside were looking at us so after some more unintelligible conversation, they let us out. who knows what they were up to but we'd been warned of robbings of oburonis.
we eventually bit the bullet and took a taxi, which are more expensive, to the waterfall, which was a half hour out of town on a windy, remote road through a misty valley. it was late afternoon by the time we arrived, at which point we were informed that there was a funeral in the village and so all the rooms of the hostel were taken. just wanting a place to crash we inquired further and they said there was a large utility closet where the seven of us could stay. we checked it out, it was a concrete floor with stacks of plastic chairs, a bicycle and a few bags of concrete but we said we'd take. the rate was reasonable, $5 USD total for the seven of us. after dropping our stuff off, a tour guide took us from the campsite down a couple hundred stone stairs through the jungle to the swimming hole at the base of the waterfall. since the waterfall wasn't actually running since it's the dry season, the swimming hole was actually a stagnant, shallow pool. but zach and dan were determined to make the most of the experience and so we climbed up underneath the massive ledge where the water would fall if there was water. the waterfall must be a couple hundred feet up and really must be really impressive during the rainy season. standing well below the ledge, if you looked straight up at the overhang there was a real sense of vertigo. looking out from our perch we could see the thick canopy off the distance. it was a really beautiful and almost mystical area, but i was too tired and thirsty to really appreciate it. on the way down we saw a snakeskin. good lord, the thing was at least six feet long! one of the girls in our group, lauren, who is from the mountains of colorado, said that the skin probably belonged to a rock python. i asked how she knew this. "because i have one," she replied. so we learned a little about lauren on this trip. anyway, after returning from the falls i took a nap and when i awoke it was time for dinner. it was dark and we brought our lantern to this tin-roofed lean-too with a picnic table and a women from the small village across the street from the campgrounds brought us rice and stew. huddled around the picnic table in our lantern-lit leantoo (the park didnt have power), outside was pitch black, I felt as if I was in the middle of nowhere. the campgrounds were deserted save for the campground manager and the campgrounds were surrounded by wilderness except for the small village across the street. we began to hear the beats of music coming from the darkness in the direction of the village. we asked the park manager, a recent graduate from the university of ghana who was doing his year of civil service, if the music was from the funeral and he said yes. dan asked if we could go to the funeral and the manager initially said that it wasn't safe as a lot of random and questionable people showed up to these funeral parties but then said that he and the tour guide would accompany us there but that we shouldn't stay for long. the park manager grabbed a flashlight and our waterfall tourguide brought up the rear with the lantern and we left the park grounds into the steamy darkness. the tourguide, who was in his sixties, stopped at a makeshift bar across the street to take a couple shots then we proceeeded down the country road. i could barely make out the silver of the pavement, everything else was pitch black. lauren, mollie, sabrina and ariel all held hands and all talked in nervous whispers but i honestly wasn't that nervous, just excited and alive. every so often a dark silhouette would emerge immediately in front of us on the road (we couldnt see very far) and it would startle us. as we neared the music, there were more and more people standing on the road, all staring at us for even in the dark they could tell there was something different about us. we turned off the road onto a narrow path through some vegetation towards the music. the music was quite loud now and we could hear shouts and laughs. i caught glimpses of light and fires through gaps in the trees and almost felt like i was on treasure island or something. we passed more people on the path, solemnly staring at us, and i certainly felt a bit out of place. i was also a bit worried that we were going to be intruding on something and taking the focus away from the deceased. the path opened to a clearing, revealing a dirt dance floor packed with kids and old women. lamps, powered by a generator, hung from the thatched roof above the dance floor and provided light, as did a couple fires at the edges of the clearing. there were a lot of plastic chairs set up going up the hill to the right and probably about twenty men sat in them, facing the dance floor. the camp manager had us greet some of them though the loud, upbeat pop music made introductions difficult. we were then pulled onto the dance floor and started dancing with the women and kids. the beat of the music was incredibly fast and i pretty much was just flailing about awkwardly but it was still fun and the little kids were great dancers and everyone made us feel quite at ease. after awhile, we left and headed back. by now the moon had risen above the ridge to the left (east?) and was a very dark orange. it was quite a sight, as were the clear stars above and we got all felt pretty fine.
the next morning around seven we awoke and the village spokesmen came to greet us. he took us through the bright morning to the clearing again to meet the elders of the village, a customary practice for visitors to a funeral. he took us through the village, past the mudpacked huts, to meet the elders and the village chief. the village chief was dressed in a traditional robe but the other elders were in t-shirts and shorts. we thanked them then the village chief wanted us to have our picture taken with him then we had breakfast back at the campground. after breakfast our tourguide took us through the jungle, past a cave filled with massive spider skeletons, then up a steep hill to "umbrella rock,"which is a massive, flat rock perched on a smaller rock situated at the peak of a grassy hill. from the top we had a nice view of the hills and valleys around. in the valley to the west we could see a couple red roofs in the midst of the dense vegetation and could hear music coming from here. apparently it was a church service. dan wanted to see the church service, which again i thought was a little intrusive, but the tour guide said no problem so off we went to this new village. we got to the village, which was dug out of a hill, and we were ushered into the church which was packed, the women in colorful dresses and head wraps and the men in shirts and ties. the sermon was in twi but it was interspersed with songs, which were led by a band with an electric guitar, a drum set and a bass. we made a donation to the church then they warmed up to us quite a bit and wanted us to dance in the aisle and the band stared playing and there we were dancing in the aisle surrounded by smiling faces and clapping hands. we eventually danced on out of the church. i felt very bad about intruding on their church thing but they really didnt seem to mind. after that we took a trotro back to accra.
ok that's all for now, i'll try to post some reflections on my trip so far and fill in some of the gaps with another blog entry soon but right now im kind of tired of writing. hope alls well, i miss you all!
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
more updates
I've had one class so far that actually met, which was Medical Sociology. Apparently professors rarely show up for the first week of classes. The one class I did have it was quite difficult to understand the professor since the lecture room has open sides and back and is right next to a road so there was a lot of noise. So I'll try to get closer to the front. We've also had lectures that CIEE organizes just giving us a general introduction to different aspects of Ghana. The one we had on Tuesday was about Religion in West Africa and was fascinating. While it was probably just skimming the surface of things it touched on traditional beliefs and how these have influenced how Christianity is interpreted (Ghanan is over 60 percent christian). Very interesting way of seeing the world! They believe that there are Gods behind nearly every natural phenomenon, for example the River God is responsible for making the rivers flow. Nothing is purely physical. Even tradecrafts have Gods. For example there could be a carpentry God and if you do a bad carpentry job then you offend this God. All these subservient Gods answer to a Supreme God, who people rarely address directly, except in case of emergency. Then we also learned about the role of ancestors in villages, how people who live lives according to the morals and beliefs of the village join a community of ancestors after they die that looks after the village and protects against evil spirits. Anyway, I found it interesting.
Yesterday was our day to lose power (everybody loses power once every 5 days to conserve) so, after dinner, Zach and I hung out at the house and sat with a lantern in the kitchen talking with Ayaow and Ablenyo, two of our "sisters" (both in their twenties) as well as with Stephanie, Abigail and Jaden, three of the small kids in the house. Stephanie and Abigail did performances for us, singing everything from Shakira to christmas carols, all with syncronized dances, using flash lights for microphones. they tried to teach me some shakira dances, and everyone got a kick out of that, watching the "obruni" or foreigner dancing terribly. Jaden, the five-year old, is fascinated by the guitar so earlier in the day we spent some time playing, me fingering the chords and Jaden strumming away. I think he has better rhythm than I do. I feel that the family is gradually warming up to us, at least the younger members. Grace, our host mother, came into our room a couple days ago and said, "hello, I am going to Kenya." Surprised, we asked, "when?" She said, "Now." So Grace is off in Kenya, coming back sometime in February. Part of the reason for the liveliness last night was that Charlie was gone. Charlie, the elderly head of the household, is a large man with a deep, intimidating voice. He sits and yells for Ablenyo or Ayaow to come and get something for him. Eating with him is quite an experience, as he eats incredible portions and expects you to do the same, shoveling food on your plate, all the while yelling for people to get him various things. Its not the most relaxing thing in the world. But since it's his house and he supports everyone who's there, they all wait on him quite loyally. And I think he's a nice guy deep down. But when he leaves, people come out of the woodwork and can finally relax and the house livens up a bit.
The food so far has been mostly good, with a couple exceptions. Usually for breakfast we'll just have some bread and maybe fruit from across the street along with Milo, a hot-chocolate-esque energy drink. But we've tried a couple more traditional dishes for supper and those have been a little iffy, particularly since I don't like fish. We tried fufu, which is gooey, tasteless dough made from plantains covered with palm nut soup. Sounds better than it is, unless you really like fish. But pretty much anywhere you can get fried chicken with jollof rice, which is kind of like spanish rice and that's always a safe bet. While initially I was a little worried, I'm starting to be very glad I got a homestay. We are also becoming friends with Alex, one of our host brothrs who is also a student at the university.
On Sunday, Zach and I took a tro-tro into Accra to explore. Tro-tros, as I think I mentioned earlier, are big vans with odd biblical quotes in bright yellow letters stuck on the front and rear windows. Anyway, they drive along and the "mate" or drivers assistant leans out the window yelling the destination. There are a variety of hand signals that people on the side of the road make to indicate where they want to go and the right tro tro will pull over if there's space. Anyway, tro-tros are incredibly cheap at 3000 cedis which amounts to about 30 cents. Anyway, in Accra, which, without traffic, is about 20 minutes from where we live, we walked towards the coast, through Jamestown, the old colonial center of Accra. We soon got to this huge covered market with filled with people selling vegetables from booths. There were chickens and goats all over and a lot of people just sitting around, some playing checkers, some listening to the radio. It being Sunday, we passed a couple church services, held under tents with all the women on one side in matching black and white dresses and all the men on the other side, listening to music played on the stereo. The covered market opened to a wide dirt street filled with kids playing and adults sitting on the sides. Kids would run up to us and hold our hand which was nice but I also felt a little uneasy with it feeling like "why do we deserve their affection more than anyone else?" But i guess they were just curious, us looking so different and all. Eventually the dirt road came out on High Street, right by the old Jamestown Fort and lighthouse. These are both perched high above the ocean and, standing next to old rusted cannons pointing seaward, we looked down at the fishing market and harbor below. In the harbor, there were probably a hundred of the long wooden fishing boats mored around a long pier. The ocean was quiet and faded into the haze after about half a mile. It was quite a sight but almost didn't seem real, it was like I was watching a movie. My cousin Emily gave me some very good advice which I am trying to follow and that is not to be too introspective and try to revel in simply being here. Anyway, we walked along High Street which follows the ocean until it came to the sign for a bar that had been recommended to us by another CIEE kid. To get there you walk towards the ocean past a couple dirt soccer fields with kids playing then down some stone steps to a patio built into the seaside cliffs. You can sit just above where the waves break on the rocky cliffs and sip a beer or have some food. On the right is the fishing harbor and on the left the coast curves first in then out. Very cool place. Afterwards we headed back.
Also on Sunday we washed laundry by hand for the first time. I was a failure. After two hours I'd finished a pair of pants and three t-shirts.
There are times where I love it here and also times when I really want to be back home. It's getting hotter and hotter as the hamatan is lifting, making the sun more direct. As I'm getting more settled I find I have less and less desire to hang out with the CIEE group. There are definitly some kids who I enjoy spending time with and want to take some trips with but I definitely don't feel like I have to spend every waking minute with them. I think the people are more likely to engage you if you're by yourself and personally it's sometimes nice not to have to worry about making conversation with anybody and just taking it all in. Anyways hope wells with everyone
love
Phil
Yesterday was our day to lose power (everybody loses power once every 5 days to conserve) so, after dinner, Zach and I hung out at the house and sat with a lantern in the kitchen talking with Ayaow and Ablenyo, two of our "sisters" (both in their twenties) as well as with Stephanie, Abigail and Jaden, three of the small kids in the house. Stephanie and Abigail did performances for us, singing everything from Shakira to christmas carols, all with syncronized dances, using flash lights for microphones. they tried to teach me some shakira dances, and everyone got a kick out of that, watching the "obruni" or foreigner dancing terribly. Jaden, the five-year old, is fascinated by the guitar so earlier in the day we spent some time playing, me fingering the chords and Jaden strumming away. I think he has better rhythm than I do. I feel that the family is gradually warming up to us, at least the younger members. Grace, our host mother, came into our room a couple days ago and said, "hello, I am going to Kenya." Surprised, we asked, "when?" She said, "Now." So Grace is off in Kenya, coming back sometime in February. Part of the reason for the liveliness last night was that Charlie was gone. Charlie, the elderly head of the household, is a large man with a deep, intimidating voice. He sits and yells for Ablenyo or Ayaow to come and get something for him. Eating with him is quite an experience, as he eats incredible portions and expects you to do the same, shoveling food on your plate, all the while yelling for people to get him various things. Its not the most relaxing thing in the world. But since it's his house and he supports everyone who's there, they all wait on him quite loyally. And I think he's a nice guy deep down. But when he leaves, people come out of the woodwork and can finally relax and the house livens up a bit.
The food so far has been mostly good, with a couple exceptions. Usually for breakfast we'll just have some bread and maybe fruit from across the street along with Milo, a hot-chocolate-esque energy drink. But we've tried a couple more traditional dishes for supper and those have been a little iffy, particularly since I don't like fish. We tried fufu, which is gooey, tasteless dough made from plantains covered with palm nut soup. Sounds better than it is, unless you really like fish. But pretty much anywhere you can get fried chicken with jollof rice, which is kind of like spanish rice and that's always a safe bet. While initially I was a little worried, I'm starting to be very glad I got a homestay. We are also becoming friends with Alex, one of our host brothrs who is also a student at the university.
On Sunday, Zach and I took a tro-tro into Accra to explore. Tro-tros, as I think I mentioned earlier, are big vans with odd biblical quotes in bright yellow letters stuck on the front and rear windows. Anyway, they drive along and the "mate" or drivers assistant leans out the window yelling the destination. There are a variety of hand signals that people on the side of the road make to indicate where they want to go and the right tro tro will pull over if there's space. Anyway, tro-tros are incredibly cheap at 3000 cedis which amounts to about 30 cents. Anyway, in Accra, which, without traffic, is about 20 minutes from where we live, we walked towards the coast, through Jamestown, the old colonial center of Accra. We soon got to this huge covered market with filled with people selling vegetables from booths. There were chickens and goats all over and a lot of people just sitting around, some playing checkers, some listening to the radio. It being Sunday, we passed a couple church services, held under tents with all the women on one side in matching black and white dresses and all the men on the other side, listening to music played on the stereo. The covered market opened to a wide dirt street filled with kids playing and adults sitting on the sides. Kids would run up to us and hold our hand which was nice but I also felt a little uneasy with it feeling like "why do we deserve their affection more than anyone else?" But i guess they were just curious, us looking so different and all. Eventually the dirt road came out on High Street, right by the old Jamestown Fort and lighthouse. These are both perched high above the ocean and, standing next to old rusted cannons pointing seaward, we looked down at the fishing market and harbor below. In the harbor, there were probably a hundred of the long wooden fishing boats mored around a long pier. The ocean was quiet and faded into the haze after about half a mile. It was quite a sight but almost didn't seem real, it was like I was watching a movie. My cousin Emily gave me some very good advice which I am trying to follow and that is not to be too introspective and try to revel in simply being here. Anyway, we walked along High Street which follows the ocean until it came to the sign for a bar that had been recommended to us by another CIEE kid. To get there you walk towards the ocean past a couple dirt soccer fields with kids playing then down some stone steps to a patio built into the seaside cliffs. You can sit just above where the waves break on the rocky cliffs and sip a beer or have some food. On the right is the fishing harbor and on the left the coast curves first in then out. Very cool place. Afterwards we headed back.
Also on Sunday we washed laundry by hand for the first time. I was a failure. After two hours I'd finished a pair of pants and three t-shirts.
There are times where I love it here and also times when I really want to be back home. It's getting hotter and hotter as the hamatan is lifting, making the sun more direct. As I'm getting more settled I find I have less and less desire to hang out with the CIEE group. There are definitly some kids who I enjoy spending time with and want to take some trips with but I definitely don't feel like I have to spend every waking minute with them. I think the people are more likely to engage you if you're by yourself and personally it's sometimes nice not to have to worry about making conversation with anybody and just taking it all in. Anyways hope wells with everyone
love
Phil
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
a week in ghana
first, thank you very much for all the emails and comments i received. i can't tell you how much it meant to me.
anyway today i finally moved into my homestay along with zach, another ciee kid who is living in the same house. i was initially a bit disappointed that we were both going to be living there as it had the potential to perhaps lessen the degree of immersion i'd feel. but we get along well so far its actually been nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of and to talk with about our experiences. another plus is that we are within walking distance of the university. the walk takes us through a small market and past several small shops run out of shacks. im hoping to eventually start to recognize some of the residents. we are also only about a ten minute walk from the ciee house, which is a house that ciee rents which ten ciee kids share. it's like real world accra. we've been there a couple times and its become kind of the communal hangout for ciee kids. so while i was worried about being isolated from ciee kids, i dont think that is going to be a problem.
as for our homestay house, it's quite big and luxurious. im not sure im getting the typical ghanaian experience in terms of living conditions. there's ac and power and the house is seperated from the surrounding neighborhood by a tall white wall. my host mother, grace, runs an adjacent textile mill, batique (sp?) shop and clothing store. so although all my host parents children are currently in the US studying (one's at gw) the compound is always bustling. often the driveway is covered with colorful fabrics drying in the sun. additionally, my host parents have taken in a bunch of neices and nephews and other relatives so there are plenty of kids around. there's a big fruit stand across the street which sells mangos, papayas, bananas, pinepples and other stuff that i dont recognize. also there's a small supermarket down the street a bit run by a friendly guy named jerry.
we got a tour of the university the day before yesterday and began registration yesterday. the campus is enormous and spacious, home to 27,000 students. it is really its own little town, with markets, vendors, a bank, food court, etc. the buildings are white with red roofs. im pretty sure they were built during colonial times (which ended 50 years ago) so they are elegant though a bit tired and neglected. the library similarly has some nice courtyards and open balconies but relatively few books and the ones they have are very outdated. all the buildings are very open with lots of open windows and doors so there's always a breeze. large trees provide plenty of shade. everything is pretty dry because of the time of year. the main road gradually climbs a hill that circles around a big lecture hall at the top. while the view from the top isnt great at the moment because of hamatan (dust from the sahara), it's got potential, with the increasingly rural landscape to the north.
the registration process is interesting, you have to go to each department, look at bulletins for what classes are being offered, wait in line, then sign a book to get a class. luckily english, history and philosophy weren't particularly popular so i didnt have to wait in line for too long. our director recommended signing up for more classes than you plan to take since the quality of lecture apparently varies quite a bit. at the moment im signed up for Intro to African Literature, African philosophy, history of western medicine in ghana, medical sociology, a polisci class called africa and the global system and a twi language class. i'll probably drop one of these. each class meets for a two hour block once a week, so i think i'll have plenty of free time. i plan on finding at least one place to volunteer once i finalize my schedule.
many of the ciee kids seem like very interesting people. some people ive met so far are zach, who's from wolfeboro NH and goes to vassar. mollie, whose brother went to middlesex school and dated harry's sister, and lauren who goes to the university of colorado. im trying to figure how to balance developing friendships with ciee kids while still getting the full ghanaian experience. i think part of the interesting aspect of travel for me is being isolated from my own culture. i think this helps me uncover which parts of my personality and identity are real and which are a result of trying to conform to societal expectations. anyway, im not sure that can happen to the same extent if im surrounded by americans. at the same time, i dont want to miss out on making friends with some seemingly neat people. it is very nice to have people who you feel comfortable with and this is much more easily accomplished with people who are at least in some way similar. but all the emails i have gotten have reminded me that ive got people back in the states so its not the end of the world if no friendships develop. that was a very big reassurance. so thanks again
just some general observations on ghana so far. ive obviously not been hear long so these may be completely inaccurate. it's quite a patriarchal society and it seems kind of rare for friendships to exist between guys and girls that aren't romantic. the girls in our program get endless catcalls and even frequent marriage proposals from guys. some of the girls bought cheap wedding rings to deflect some of the attention. anway its getting late and my coherence is decreasing so im going to call it quits.
thats all for now, im sorry its very difficult to fully describe what its like here, love phil
anyway today i finally moved into my homestay along with zach, another ciee kid who is living in the same house. i was initially a bit disappointed that we were both going to be living there as it had the potential to perhaps lessen the degree of immersion i'd feel. but we get along well so far its actually been nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of and to talk with about our experiences. another plus is that we are within walking distance of the university. the walk takes us through a small market and past several small shops run out of shacks. im hoping to eventually start to recognize some of the residents. we are also only about a ten minute walk from the ciee house, which is a house that ciee rents which ten ciee kids share. it's like real world accra. we've been there a couple times and its become kind of the communal hangout for ciee kids. so while i was worried about being isolated from ciee kids, i dont think that is going to be a problem.
as for our homestay house, it's quite big and luxurious. im not sure im getting the typical ghanaian experience in terms of living conditions. there's ac and power and the house is seperated from the surrounding neighborhood by a tall white wall. my host mother, grace, runs an adjacent textile mill, batique (sp?) shop and clothing store. so although all my host parents children are currently in the US studying (one's at gw) the compound is always bustling. often the driveway is covered with colorful fabrics drying in the sun. additionally, my host parents have taken in a bunch of neices and nephews and other relatives so there are plenty of kids around. there's a big fruit stand across the street which sells mangos, papayas, bananas, pinepples and other stuff that i dont recognize. also there's a small supermarket down the street a bit run by a friendly guy named jerry.
we got a tour of the university the day before yesterday and began registration yesterday. the campus is enormous and spacious, home to 27,000 students. it is really its own little town, with markets, vendors, a bank, food court, etc. the buildings are white with red roofs. im pretty sure they were built during colonial times (which ended 50 years ago) so they are elegant though a bit tired and neglected. the library similarly has some nice courtyards and open balconies but relatively few books and the ones they have are very outdated. all the buildings are very open with lots of open windows and doors so there's always a breeze. large trees provide plenty of shade. everything is pretty dry because of the time of year. the main road gradually climbs a hill that circles around a big lecture hall at the top. while the view from the top isnt great at the moment because of hamatan (dust from the sahara), it's got potential, with the increasingly rural landscape to the north.
the registration process is interesting, you have to go to each department, look at bulletins for what classes are being offered, wait in line, then sign a book to get a class. luckily english, history and philosophy weren't particularly popular so i didnt have to wait in line for too long. our director recommended signing up for more classes than you plan to take since the quality of lecture apparently varies quite a bit. at the moment im signed up for Intro to African Literature, African philosophy, history of western medicine in ghana, medical sociology, a polisci class called africa and the global system and a twi language class. i'll probably drop one of these. each class meets for a two hour block once a week, so i think i'll have plenty of free time. i plan on finding at least one place to volunteer once i finalize my schedule.
many of the ciee kids seem like very interesting people. some people ive met so far are zach, who's from wolfeboro NH and goes to vassar. mollie, whose brother went to middlesex school and dated harry's sister, and lauren who goes to the university of colorado. im trying to figure how to balance developing friendships with ciee kids while still getting the full ghanaian experience. i think part of the interesting aspect of travel for me is being isolated from my own culture. i think this helps me uncover which parts of my personality and identity are real and which are a result of trying to conform to societal expectations. anyway, im not sure that can happen to the same extent if im surrounded by americans. at the same time, i dont want to miss out on making friends with some seemingly neat people. it is very nice to have people who you feel comfortable with and this is much more easily accomplished with people who are at least in some way similar. but all the emails i have gotten have reminded me that ive got people back in the states so its not the end of the world if no friendships develop. that was a very big reassurance. so thanks again
just some general observations on ghana so far. ive obviously not been hear long so these may be completely inaccurate. it's quite a patriarchal society and it seems kind of rare for friendships to exist between guys and girls that aren't romantic. the girls in our program get endless catcalls and even frequent marriage proposals from guys. some of the girls bought cheap wedding rings to deflect some of the attention. anway its getting late and my coherence is decreasing so im going to call it quits.
thats all for now, im sorry its very difficult to fully describe what its like here, love phil
Sunday, January 14, 2007
In Ghana
I arrived the night of the tenth and crashed at a hostel in downtown Accra. It's quite warm here and the air smells like a mix of fires and palm trees. Anyway, the next day I took a walk around downtown Accra. Upon leaving the hostel, I immediately felt quite out of place. Everyone on the busy sidewalks stared at me and every taxi that went by honked at me, assuming I was lost. I felt quite self-conscious. Almost every group of people I passed tried to engage me in conversation, something that I found exhausting. Most people when I made eye contact with them smiled and greeted me very kindly but there was occasional hostility as well, as one guy said to me, "This is a black man's country." Yikes.
Anyway, the sidewalks were packed with vendors sitting on the ground selling everything from onions to plantain (grilled bananas) to shoes. Few of the buildings here are above two stories therefore palm trees are often the highest point on the horizon, silhouetted against the perpetually hazy sky. The main roads are paved but alleys and sidestreets are dirt so the air is filled with a mix of dust and exhaust. Pedestrians mix with traffic in the crowded streets selling things to cars. I saw a bunch of men and women walking around balancing sacks on their heads.
Completely overwhelmed, I soon got lost and it was a couple hours before I found my way back to the hostel. When I arrived, they informed me that I'd have to find another place to stay, as someone had reserved my room. I looked through my guidebook and took a taxi to a beach-front hostel that's in the suburbs, about 30 minutes from Accra. Upon arriving, I walked down from High Road, past several huts situated on the sand dunes until I came to the entrance of a shaded compound. I was greeted with complex handshakes by the two rastifarians who run the place. They are also reggae musicians in a local band. Anyway the place was nice, with a patio overlooking the ocean. Unfortunately you can't go swimming on most of the beaches here cause they double as toilets for the locals. But there was no smell and it was a nice view. In the morning you can see pirogues, or the long sleek traditional fishing boats, slipping by at the edge of the fog. The rest of the day I hung out at the hostel, watching TV with the rastifarians. It's a lot to take in and I get tired pretty quick.
The next day, rejuvenated, I set out to explore Accra again. I took a taxi to the Osu neighborhood, which was a bit more touristy than the area I'd been in before. I then walked to a public beach and had lunch on the beach. Walking back along the coastal road, I helped a couple guys push their car to a local mechanic. By the evening the sun was a bright orange ball in grey sky and the haze had thickened. When I returned to the hostel, the rastifarians were watching Lord of the Rings. Lying on my bed, I could hear a nearby outdoor church service with the whole congregation singing.
It was nice but I felt, and still feel, a bit homesick, much more than I do at college. I miss my family and friends from back home quite a bit and feel a very long way from them. While I'm awkward at home, here the gap in cultures magnifies this extraordinarily. I dont want to have to start over making friends and getting to know people, but I suppose I'll have to. But at the moment Im feeling quite lonely.
Today, people from CIEE started showing up. I went out to lunch with the first four to a nearby chinese restaurant (chinese restaurants are everywhere here). they all seemed nice though, them being girls, the pace of conversation was incredibly fast and I could barely keep up with it. After lunch, Kwaku's son (Kwaku is a friend from the states who's from ghana), Raymond, came by and took me to meet some of their relatives in the area. I first met Ama's (Kwaku's wife) sister and her daughter then to Kwaku's brother. They also helped me get a Ghanaian cell phone. They were all quite friendly and welcoming.
By tonight, many of the CIEE people have arrived. It feels like the first week of freshman year all over again. We have an orientation dinner tonight at ten and I think tomorrow we'll go see the university.
I will post again soon,
love
Phil
Anyway, the sidewalks were packed with vendors sitting on the ground selling everything from onions to plantain (grilled bananas) to shoes. Few of the buildings here are above two stories therefore palm trees are often the highest point on the horizon, silhouetted against the perpetually hazy sky. The main roads are paved but alleys and sidestreets are dirt so the air is filled with a mix of dust and exhaust. Pedestrians mix with traffic in the crowded streets selling things to cars. I saw a bunch of men and women walking around balancing sacks on their heads.
Completely overwhelmed, I soon got lost and it was a couple hours before I found my way back to the hostel. When I arrived, they informed me that I'd have to find another place to stay, as someone had reserved my room. I looked through my guidebook and took a taxi to a beach-front hostel that's in the suburbs, about 30 minutes from Accra. Upon arriving, I walked down from High Road, past several huts situated on the sand dunes until I came to the entrance of a shaded compound. I was greeted with complex handshakes by the two rastifarians who run the place. They are also reggae musicians in a local band. Anyway the place was nice, with a patio overlooking the ocean. Unfortunately you can't go swimming on most of the beaches here cause they double as toilets for the locals. But there was no smell and it was a nice view. In the morning you can see pirogues, or the long sleek traditional fishing boats, slipping by at the edge of the fog. The rest of the day I hung out at the hostel, watching TV with the rastifarians. It's a lot to take in and I get tired pretty quick.
The next day, rejuvenated, I set out to explore Accra again. I took a taxi to the Osu neighborhood, which was a bit more touristy than the area I'd been in before. I then walked to a public beach and had lunch on the beach. Walking back along the coastal road, I helped a couple guys push their car to a local mechanic. By the evening the sun was a bright orange ball in grey sky and the haze had thickened. When I returned to the hostel, the rastifarians were watching Lord of the Rings. Lying on my bed, I could hear a nearby outdoor church service with the whole congregation singing.
It was nice but I felt, and still feel, a bit homesick, much more than I do at college. I miss my family and friends from back home quite a bit and feel a very long way from them. While I'm awkward at home, here the gap in cultures magnifies this extraordinarily. I dont want to have to start over making friends and getting to know people, but I suppose I'll have to. But at the moment Im feeling quite lonely.
Today, people from CIEE started showing up. I went out to lunch with the first four to a nearby chinese restaurant (chinese restaurants are everywhere here). they all seemed nice though, them being girls, the pace of conversation was incredibly fast and I could barely keep up with it. After lunch, Kwaku's son (Kwaku is a friend from the states who's from ghana), Raymond, came by and took me to meet some of their relatives in the area. I first met Ama's (Kwaku's wife) sister and her daughter then to Kwaku's brother. They also helped me get a Ghanaian cell phone. They were all quite friendly and welcoming.
By tonight, many of the CIEE people have arrived. It feels like the first week of freshman year all over again. We have an orientation dinner tonight at ten and I think tomorrow we'll go see the university.
I will post again soon,
love
Phil
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)