Day 134.
We crossed the border at 8:36pm on Sunday night. Lots of paperwork and stamps but mostly a breeze. It was apparent immediately that we were in a different country. We were approached by men asking us in French if we wanted a moto taxi, which we understood by their motorcycle hand motion, and we simply replied, “Non merci” as if we knew what we were doing. Soon, we found a cheap hotel, set down our bags, and went for a walk.
The streets of Lome near the border are sand roads lined with neatly addressed houses and outdoor restaurants and bars. Very low key, however, we were told this area was dangerous so we stuck together in search of a Fan Milk man. Fan Milk is a company that makes frozen treats that come in bags (weird right?..but also amazing). In Ghana there is only Fan Ice, Fan Choco, and Fan Yogo but in Togo there is Fan Joy, Fan Coctail, Fan Xtra, Fan Yogo Maxi, Fan Icy, and Vanille Lait. We were on a mission to try all the flavors before leaving the country. Fan Cocktails in hand, we wound our way through the streets to lose a couple of guys who were following us and made it safely back to our hotel.
The next morning, after a bomb avocado, onion, and tomato sandwich on a fresh baked baguette, and an exciting moto ride to the tro tro station, we boarded a car for Kpalime. Kpalime is a small city right along the Togo/Ghana border adjacent to the Volta Region: lush vegetation, mountainous terrain. We spent the day walking the streets, eating Fan Joy and avocado baguettes, playing cards, and speaking French (or at least trying to). Unexpectedly that evening, we ran into Matt and Nikos, played a few rounds of Psoi and made plans to visit Kpime falls the following day.
At 8:30am we were in search of four moto taxis who would take us to the falls for a reasonable price. After some bargaining in broken French/English we agreed on a price and were on our way (moto taxis are one of my new favorite things). The falls were visible from a distance and very inviting. At the bottom, we found out we could do a 4km hike to the top for a great view of the entire region. Sounded great, problem being our moto drivers would have to wait for us as it is an isolated place where we wouldn’t see any motos. After significant bargaining without success, we decided their prices were too high and we would just walk back. “Au revoir, Au revoir”. We began the walk to the falls with our guide and before we knew it, our moto drivers were following suit. They decided our price was good and instead of waiting for us at the bottom they would just come with us. Two hours later after taking pictures with the falls and climbing the steep trail to the top to see a beautiful view of Togo from above, hawks circling, an old Portuguese dam, and laughing with our drivers, we were back on the motos on way back to town. The day was a success.
The next morning we woke up and made the journey back to Lome where we planned to stay one more night. We arrived with our giant backpacks on and walked around the Grand Marche for a few hours, slightly shopping but mostly looking for a place to stay. The Grand Marche is much different from markets in Ghana because as there are far less cars in Togo, the market just takes place along the streets, and in the streets, motos winding their way through the crowds. Hopelessly looking for a hotel within our budget, we found a Lebanese man who lives in Lome. We showed him in the guidebook which hotels we were looking for and he responded, “You go there, they kill you!” With that (and rejecting his offer to stay at his house) we headed for the border ending our trip a day early. A hop, skip, and a few stamps away, we were back in Ghana…no more avocado baguettes, but safety and familiarity.
This week: two more tests, a few last trips to the market, Carmen’s last performance, goodbyes, and a 24-hour bus ride to Burkina Faso. I’m ready...and I'll be careful.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The North
Day 126.
We arrived in Tamale at 3:30am after a 13-hour bus ride. It was dark out and surprisingly cold. Hoping to get a ticket for the 6am bus to Larabanga, we walked to the MMT station. The station was busy for such an early hour: women selling bread, pure water, knives; men riding motorbikes in Muslim smocks; toddlers sitting on the ground playing with rubbish. To find out if there were tickets, we had talk to the conductor. He wasn’t around so we sat. And waited. Brushed our teeth. Watched our bags. Hours passed. No conductor. Finally, we were told the tickets were finished. We bought tickets for the 1:30pm bus, found a place to sit, and slept. Hours passed…slowly. After a strange interaction with foreigners wanting to take us to their hotel, interrupted sleeping, buying a few pairs of Ghanaian sandals, and eating plantain chips with peanut butter it was time for the bus to arrive. A hot, long, bumpy four hours later, we arrived in Larabanga.
Larabanga: population 4,000, 100% Muslim. Mud houses, dirt roads, minimal electricity, so many children. We stayed at the Salia Brothers Guesthouse, a simple room and a simpler bathroom (a hole in the concrete with an intoxicating ammonia scent). The coolest part was we could sleep on the roof! Up a small branch ladder to the flat roof, we could not only see much of the village but we could see all of Mole National Park in the distance. It was freezing but we made it through the night, waking up to Muslim prayer on the loudspeaker at dawn …melodic and calming, nothing like the amplified Christian praise we wake up to in Legon. By 6am the town is awake and beginning the day’s work: rhythmic pounding of fufu, collecting of firewood, and the setting up of small food stands. For a long time I watched from above the life that the people of Larabanga live everyday. A life of hard work and simplicity. A life that I am envious of until I hear their stories: husband killed in a car accident just before her son was born, father shot and killed at Mole for hunting antelope, the only of four brothers who wasn’t able to go to school can hardly read or write, a classroom full of children with no teacher, kids drinking water out of a tank with bugs swimming in it.
That morning we rented bicycles. Old, single-speed, squeaky, rusty, drop-bar bicycles. Mole is 10km from Larabanga on a dirt road. The road was relatively flat with a few hills to climb and potholes to avoid. It felt great to be riding again. We arrived at the park and realized there were 5 hours until the start of the tour so we biked back to get out books to read while we waited. Hot and tired after the second 10km, we napped instead. 10km back during the hottest part of the day and we were ready for the safari. No toes allowed so we rented big rubber boots and headed into the bush following D.K., our armed guide. Walking safaris are rare in Africa because of the danger involved so we lucked out. 5 minutes into the safari we were 50 feet away from a 54-year old male savanna elephant. He was casually shaking a tree and eating the fruits that fell from it as we watched in amazement. Through the binoculars, I could see every wrinkle in his face. He walked around the tree, sneezed, and then started coming towards us. D.K. told us to back up slowly to avoid him charging, he wasn’t coming for us, we were just in his way. With mighty steps, he passed us, ignored the baboons all around, and went to dig a hole to reach a salt lick…his dessert. Now only 30 feet away, we stood in awe. It is amazing the difference I felt seeing an elephant in the wild where it belongs as compared to a zoo. Just like elephants, that moment I will never forget.
The rest of the safari was great: antelope running, baboons grooming each other, warthogs walking, birds chirping. The sun was setting over the watering holes, a giant orange African sun, and I was happy. This is Africa. We returned to our bikes at sunset and tried to peddle back as fast as we could to avoid darkness. Before we knew it, we couldn’t see the path in front of us. Passing a few pairs of cows and fireflies on the way, we made it back to Larabanga safely but hungry. This is when we met Satau.
At a small egg sandwich stand on the side of the road, a woman stood waiting for customers. We ordered two sandwiches and waited for them while we talked with the local children that came to say hello to us. The sandwiches were amazing and as we ate them, we talked to Satau. She told us that about her husband who died, her father who was shot, and her 16-month-old son, Mohammed, who was sick. She was only 24-years-old. She told us she wanted to make us banku in the morning and teach us to pound fufu, so we decided we would be back to meet her at 10am. Afterward, we followed a girl named Ama to her house where she was going to take dinner and then escort us back to our guesthouse. At her house we were met by at least 20 other children who were so excited to see us, and even more excited for us to take their pictures. The most striking thing about the scene was the 16-year-old girl who sat in the middle of all the children butchering the better part of a cow with a machete. This was completely normal. So many pictures later, we returned to the guesthouse to find that we had been slightly robbed. 30 cedi missing from my bag, 10 from Carmen’s. Was it one of the Salia brothers? Was it the small girl who came in when we were napping? One of the boys in town who was in and out of the guesthouse often? Who knows…I just hope they really needed it.
The missing money limited our activity the next day: no morning safari, no bikes, minimal food. Despite the run in our plans, I had an amazing day. Banku in the morning (fish in the pepe but I put on a smile and ate around it), pounding fufu with Satau, a tour of Larabanga, including the 600-year-old mosque, hanging out at local school, visiting with Satau at her grandfather’s house, egg sandwiches, and more playing and taking pictures with the children at night. We were the only Obrunis in the town and I felt at home.
4:30am the next morning we awoke to the bus approaching Larabanga. Lightening fast and laughing, we packed our things and ran to the stop, just in time. A hot, long, bumpy four hours later, we arrived in Tamale. Tamale lays in stark contrast to Accra: hotter, drier, Muslim, less crowded, more friendly, and the best part is everyone rides motorbikes or bicycles. The most impressive thing I saw was a motorcycle transporting (in this order, front to back) a toddler, a man, a goat, a woman, and a baby (on her back)…Now that’s efficiency. We spent the day exploring Tamale: the Center for National Culture, the central market, the side streets. After 5 days of dirt we finally took a bucket shower and went to bed satisfied with our journey to the North, alarms set to catch the 6:30am bus in the morning.
13-hours, the most unexplainably complicated traffic jam, and too many bananas later, we were home.
Traveling to Togo tomorrow.
More adventures to come.
We arrived in Tamale at 3:30am after a 13-hour bus ride. It was dark out and surprisingly cold. Hoping to get a ticket for the 6am bus to Larabanga, we walked to the MMT station. The station was busy for such an early hour: women selling bread, pure water, knives; men riding motorbikes in Muslim smocks; toddlers sitting on the ground playing with rubbish. To find out if there were tickets, we had talk to the conductor. He wasn’t around so we sat. And waited. Brushed our teeth. Watched our bags. Hours passed. No conductor. Finally, we were told the tickets were finished. We bought tickets for the 1:30pm bus, found a place to sit, and slept. Hours passed…slowly. After a strange interaction with foreigners wanting to take us to their hotel, interrupted sleeping, buying a few pairs of Ghanaian sandals, and eating plantain chips with peanut butter it was time for the bus to arrive. A hot, long, bumpy four hours later, we arrived in Larabanga.
Larabanga: population 4,000, 100% Muslim. Mud houses, dirt roads, minimal electricity, so many children. We stayed at the Salia Brothers Guesthouse, a simple room and a simpler bathroom (a hole in the concrete with an intoxicating ammonia scent). The coolest part was we could sleep on the roof! Up a small branch ladder to the flat roof, we could not only see much of the village but we could see all of Mole National Park in the distance. It was freezing but we made it through the night, waking up to Muslim prayer on the loudspeaker at dawn …melodic and calming, nothing like the amplified Christian praise we wake up to in Legon. By 6am the town is awake and beginning the day’s work: rhythmic pounding of fufu, collecting of firewood, and the setting up of small food stands. For a long time I watched from above the life that the people of Larabanga live everyday. A life of hard work and simplicity. A life that I am envious of until I hear their stories: husband killed in a car accident just before her son was born, father shot and killed at Mole for hunting antelope, the only of four brothers who wasn’t able to go to school can hardly read or write, a classroom full of children with no teacher, kids drinking water out of a tank with bugs swimming in it.
That morning we rented bicycles. Old, single-speed, squeaky, rusty, drop-bar bicycles. Mole is 10km from Larabanga on a dirt road. The road was relatively flat with a few hills to climb and potholes to avoid. It felt great to be riding again. We arrived at the park and realized there were 5 hours until the start of the tour so we biked back to get out books to read while we waited. Hot and tired after the second 10km, we napped instead. 10km back during the hottest part of the day and we were ready for the safari. No toes allowed so we rented big rubber boots and headed into the bush following D.K., our armed guide. Walking safaris are rare in Africa because of the danger involved so we lucked out. 5 minutes into the safari we were 50 feet away from a 54-year old male savanna elephant. He was casually shaking a tree and eating the fruits that fell from it as we watched in amazement. Through the binoculars, I could see every wrinkle in his face. He walked around the tree, sneezed, and then started coming towards us. D.K. told us to back up slowly to avoid him charging, he wasn’t coming for us, we were just in his way. With mighty steps, he passed us, ignored the baboons all around, and went to dig a hole to reach a salt lick…his dessert. Now only 30 feet away, we stood in awe. It is amazing the difference I felt seeing an elephant in the wild where it belongs as compared to a zoo. Just like elephants, that moment I will never forget.
The rest of the safari was great: antelope running, baboons grooming each other, warthogs walking, birds chirping. The sun was setting over the watering holes, a giant orange African sun, and I was happy. This is Africa. We returned to our bikes at sunset and tried to peddle back as fast as we could to avoid darkness. Before we knew it, we couldn’t see the path in front of us. Passing a few pairs of cows and fireflies on the way, we made it back to Larabanga safely but hungry. This is when we met Satau.
At a small egg sandwich stand on the side of the road, a woman stood waiting for customers. We ordered two sandwiches and waited for them while we talked with the local children that came to say hello to us. The sandwiches were amazing and as we ate them, we talked to Satau. She told us that about her husband who died, her father who was shot, and her 16-month-old son, Mohammed, who was sick. She was only 24-years-old. She told us she wanted to make us banku in the morning and teach us to pound fufu, so we decided we would be back to meet her at 10am. Afterward, we followed a girl named Ama to her house where she was going to take dinner and then escort us back to our guesthouse. At her house we were met by at least 20 other children who were so excited to see us, and even more excited for us to take their pictures. The most striking thing about the scene was the 16-year-old girl who sat in the middle of all the children butchering the better part of a cow with a machete. This was completely normal. So many pictures later, we returned to the guesthouse to find that we had been slightly robbed. 30 cedi missing from my bag, 10 from Carmen’s. Was it one of the Salia brothers? Was it the small girl who came in when we were napping? One of the boys in town who was in and out of the guesthouse often? Who knows…I just hope they really needed it.
The missing money limited our activity the next day: no morning safari, no bikes, minimal food. Despite the run in our plans, I had an amazing day. Banku in the morning (fish in the pepe but I put on a smile and ate around it), pounding fufu with Satau, a tour of Larabanga, including the 600-year-old mosque, hanging out at local school, visiting with Satau at her grandfather’s house, egg sandwiches, and more playing and taking pictures with the children at night. We were the only Obrunis in the town and I felt at home.
4:30am the next morning we awoke to the bus approaching Larabanga. Lightening fast and laughing, we packed our things and ran to the stop, just in time. A hot, long, bumpy four hours later, we arrived in Tamale. Tamale lays in stark contrast to Accra: hotter, drier, Muslim, less crowded, more friendly, and the best part is everyone rides motorbikes or bicycles. The most impressive thing I saw was a motorcycle transporting (in this order, front to back) a toddler, a man, a goat, a woman, and a baby (on her back)…Now that’s efficiency. We spent the day exploring Tamale: the Center for National Culture, the central market, the side streets. After 5 days of dirt we finally took a bucket shower and went to bed satisfied with our journey to the North, alarms set to catch the 6:30am bus in the morning.
13-hours, the most unexplainably complicated traffic jam, and too many bananas later, we were home.
Traveling to Togo tomorrow.
More adventures to come.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
music and football
Day 115.
Last weekend, Carmen played in three shows at the Music Department...I went all three nights it was that good. Line up: Yerekorossi (from Burkina Faso), Pure Water, Obrubini, and Big Shot. Each night was a little bit different and so much fun. On Friday night, Prophet Fish, Big Shot’s lead singer, invited me on stage to sing “Tunamensa” with them! As I had gone to a few of Carm’s rehearsals I knew the song, and as my only part was singing the word “Tunamensa” is was not so difficult.
Sunday: Ghana v. Mali FIFA World Cup Qualifier in Kumasi…this time everything went according to plan. The area surrounding the stadium was packed with football fans and hawkers, wearing and selling anything and everything with a Ghanaian flag on it: key chains, necklaces, noisemakers, hats, visors, scarves, flags, jerseys . I wore red, yellow, and green beads in my hair and waved a small Ghanaian flag, I thought that would be enough spirit, nope.
We arrived in Kumasi five hours before the game was to start, so we did some exploring. Elle, Karen and I wandered around what seemed to be a friendly area. The further we got from the stadium, the quieter it was, which I enjoyed but soon enough we were back near all of the excitement. Somewhere along the way we decided to make up fake names and where we were from. This is something I would do when I was little and I don’t think I ever pulled it off, but here it was a cinch and so much fun. Most of the time I decided to be German so I could say “Ich mag schwerkroft”, which means “I like gravity”.
The game was much more exciting than the last as Mali is a far better team than Sudan. Last time we had VIP tickets so we were in a chill section. This time we had middle range tickets so the crowd was more rambunctious and noisy -constantly yelling at the field in Twi and Pidgin. They scored. Half time. We scored. They scored. We scored! Satisfied with a 2-2 finish, we left the stadium for the long ride home.
The road from Accra to Kumasi is one of the most dangerous in Ghana as the majority of it is not paved and covered with potholes. The bus driver, who said a prayer before we left, drove like a maniac and didn’t seem to adjust his driving to the conditions, other than swerving determinedly around the potholes and the vehicles without slowing down a bit. Miraculously, we made it back to Accra safely.
Lectures are finished. I’ve taken my dance and Twi exams. Four more finals and I will be officially done with my undergraduate education.
I’m so excited to start traveling.
Last weekend, Carmen played in three shows at the Music Department...I went all three nights it was that good. Line up: Yerekorossi (from Burkina Faso), Pure Water, Obrubini, and Big Shot. Each night was a little bit different and so much fun. On Friday night, Prophet Fish, Big Shot’s lead singer, invited me on stage to sing “Tunamensa” with them! As I had gone to a few of Carm’s rehearsals I knew the song, and as my only part was singing the word “Tunamensa” is was not so difficult.
Sunday: Ghana v. Mali FIFA World Cup Qualifier in Kumasi…this time everything went according to plan. The area surrounding the stadium was packed with football fans and hawkers, wearing and selling anything and everything with a Ghanaian flag on it: key chains, necklaces, noisemakers, hats, visors, scarves, flags, jerseys . I wore red, yellow, and green beads in my hair and waved a small Ghanaian flag, I thought that would be enough spirit, nope.
We arrived in Kumasi five hours before the game was to start, so we did some exploring. Elle, Karen and I wandered around what seemed to be a friendly area. The further we got from the stadium, the quieter it was, which I enjoyed but soon enough we were back near all of the excitement. Somewhere along the way we decided to make up fake names and where we were from. This is something I would do when I was little and I don’t think I ever pulled it off, but here it was a cinch and so much fun. Most of the time I decided to be German so I could say “Ich mag schwerkroft”, which means “I like gravity”.
The game was much more exciting than the last as Mali is a far better team than Sudan. Last time we had VIP tickets so we were in a chill section. This time we had middle range tickets so the crowd was more rambunctious and noisy -constantly yelling at the field in Twi and Pidgin. They scored. Half time. We scored. They scored. We scored! Satisfied with a 2-2 finish, we left the stadium for the long ride home.
The road from Accra to Kumasi is one of the most dangerous in Ghana as the majority of it is not paved and covered with potholes. The bus driver, who said a prayer before we left, drove like a maniac and didn’t seem to adjust his driving to the conditions, other than swerving determinedly around the potholes and the vehicles without slowing down a bit. Miraculously, we made it back to Accra safely.
Lectures are finished. I’ve taken my dance and Twi exams. Four more finals and I will be officially done with my undergraduate education.
I’m so excited to start traveling.
Monday, November 9, 2009
one day
Day 107.
Aburi Botanical Gardens. An hour north of Accra in the hills just beyond the Accra Plains. From the entrance, you turn around to see a panoramic view of Ghana’s capital and its surroundings – from there everything looks small and clean. Directly in front of you are houses made out of cement bricks or scrap wood with tin roofs in need of repair, if there is a roof at all.
The Gardens are small and not so well organized but they are well maintained. The place was full of Ghanaians enjoying the fresh mountain air and cool weather – drumming, singing, dancing, running, laughing, and even some students copying down scientific names! Walking in the shade of unique trees covered in vines felt like a fairy tale, especially when we stumbled upon kids playing in The Strangler Ficus Tree, a Ficus Elasticoides that strangled an Afzelia Africana killing its host and creating a hollow interior…perfect for climbing.
Thunder. Suddenly, it started to rain and people from all directions went running for cover. Kids laughing, tripping, yelling, parents right along side them. When it let up, we left the Gardens and walked towards the station. Carmen bought a coconut on the side of the road and just after the man hacked it open with a machete, it started to pour. Quickly, we hid under a truck until the coconut man showed us to an overhang where we stood crowded with about twenty-five Ghanaians also waiting for the rain to stop. It was pouring harder than I’ve ever seen it pour. Then it stopped.
Exhausted, we returned to campus, ate banku at night market, and came back to our room. A dance and drumming group from the Volta Region was performing at the drama studio on campus this weekend and in return for them performing for us, we were supposed to perform for them. Carmen and my dance classes were asked to participate – people from her class performing Gown, people from mine performing Kpatsa. I couldn’t do it on Friday night but signed up for Saturday. Expecting there to be four other Obrunis and ten Ghanaians as there had been the night before, I arrived to find nobody from my class. Ten minutes before we were supposed to go on, seven Kpatsa dancers showed up, all Ghanaians. Ten minutes later, I was the only Obruni on stage in front of one hundred plus people performing a Ghanaian traditional dance. Despite my worrying that it was going to be terrible, I had so much fun.
Aburi Botanical Gardens. An hour north of Accra in the hills just beyond the Accra Plains. From the entrance, you turn around to see a panoramic view of Ghana’s capital and its surroundings – from there everything looks small and clean. Directly in front of you are houses made out of cement bricks or scrap wood with tin roofs in need of repair, if there is a roof at all.
The Gardens are small and not so well organized but they are well maintained. The place was full of Ghanaians enjoying the fresh mountain air and cool weather – drumming, singing, dancing, running, laughing, and even some students copying down scientific names! Walking in the shade of unique trees covered in vines felt like a fairy tale, especially when we stumbled upon kids playing in The Strangler Ficus Tree, a Ficus Elasticoides that strangled an Afzelia Africana killing its host and creating a hollow interior…perfect for climbing.
Thunder. Suddenly, it started to rain and people from all directions went running for cover. Kids laughing, tripping, yelling, parents right along side them. When it let up, we left the Gardens and walked towards the station. Carmen bought a coconut on the side of the road and just after the man hacked it open with a machete, it started to pour. Quickly, we hid under a truck until the coconut man showed us to an overhang where we stood crowded with about twenty-five Ghanaians also waiting for the rain to stop. It was pouring harder than I’ve ever seen it pour. Then it stopped.
Exhausted, we returned to campus, ate banku at night market, and came back to our room. A dance and drumming group from the Volta Region was performing at the drama studio on campus this weekend and in return for them performing for us, we were supposed to perform for them. Carmen and my dance classes were asked to participate – people from her class performing Gown, people from mine performing Kpatsa. I couldn’t do it on Friday night but signed up for Saturday. Expecting there to be four other Obrunis and ten Ghanaians as there had been the night before, I arrived to find nobody from my class. Ten minutes before we were supposed to go on, seven Kpatsa dancers showed up, all Ghanaians. Ten minutes later, I was the only Obruni on stage in front of one hundred plus people performing a Ghanaian traditional dance. Despite my worrying that it was going to be terrible, I had so much fun.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
day 101
power is back to normal.
water is being rationed (volta = tuesdays and saturdays).
dance class is great. lessons anyone?.
it's still hot.
mosquitoes are out.
bug spray is on.
laptop is broken.
birkenstocks have holes.
i love banku.
i miss burritos.
in 64 days i'll be home.
water is being rationed (volta = tuesdays and saturdays).
dance class is great. lessons anyone?.
it's still hot.
mosquitoes are out.
bug spray is on.
laptop is broken.
birkenstocks have holes.
i love banku.
i miss burritos.
in 64 days i'll be home.
Monday, October 26, 2009
funerals. nature walk and small things
Day 93.
Traveling on Saturdays is always a trip because in Ghana, Saturday is reserved for funerals. On a short trip (outside of Accra), you are likely to see at least one funeral, and on longer trips, it is not uncommon to see four or five. Funerals in Ghana, though largely Christian ceremonies, incorporate cultural elements that would never be see in the States. In America, people generally wear black to a funeral; in Ghana, people wear the most amazing fabric, a dark slightly shiny black with brown adinkra symbols or white with small black patterns, both with red accents. Older men simply wrap the cloth around them. Women have it made into outfits with a long skirt and matching top. A funeral can be spotted from a mile away because hundreds of people attend every one. Another difference is that during a part of the ceremony, the casket is carried by people though the streets as friends and family members crowd around clapping, singing, dancing. Unlike at home where funeral ceremonies are centered around mourning the dead person, in Ghana, funerals truly are a celebration of life.
Saturday (and exactly three months since I left): Day trip with Carm to Boti Falls in the Eastern Region. Nature hike with a guide named Frank: descended a rainforest valley emerging into a partial cave that was once the home of the natives of Koforidua, climbed vertically arriving in a savannah landscape, relaxed in the shade of Umbrella Rock eating fresh coconut, followed by small children to the three-trunked palm tree, sat on a stone that is thought to make the sitter the bearer of twins (I sat on it twice, thought it might reverse the first time, but maybe I’m having quadruplets), swam in the pool below Boti falls. It rained.
Small things:
All the women here have fake hair. Sometimes it falls out and single braids are found disembodied on the side of the road (Andrew: gross right?).
Because they all have fake hair, the women change their hairstyles monthly, sometimes making it impossible to recognize your friends.
People here sweep all day long. If there is 100 leaves they sweep. If there are 10 leaves they sweep. If there is one leaf they sweep.
My new favorite meal is banku with pepe. Banku is a traditional Ghanaian dish made from cassava and corn that essentially tastes like unbaked sourdough bread. Pepe is a combination of tomatoes, peppers, and onions – spicy. No utensils allowed.
It is so hot now that I don’t even leave the room in the morning before I start sweating.
Last night I realized that I am really going to miss Ghana.
Traveling on Saturdays is always a trip because in Ghana, Saturday is reserved for funerals. On a short trip (outside of Accra), you are likely to see at least one funeral, and on longer trips, it is not uncommon to see four or five. Funerals in Ghana, though largely Christian ceremonies, incorporate cultural elements that would never be see in the States. In America, people generally wear black to a funeral; in Ghana, people wear the most amazing fabric, a dark slightly shiny black with brown adinkra symbols or white with small black patterns, both with red accents. Older men simply wrap the cloth around them. Women have it made into outfits with a long skirt and matching top. A funeral can be spotted from a mile away because hundreds of people attend every one. Another difference is that during a part of the ceremony, the casket is carried by people though the streets as friends and family members crowd around clapping, singing, dancing. Unlike at home where funeral ceremonies are centered around mourning the dead person, in Ghana, funerals truly are a celebration of life.
Saturday (and exactly three months since I left): Day trip with Carm to Boti Falls in the Eastern Region. Nature hike with a guide named Frank: descended a rainforest valley emerging into a partial cave that was once the home of the natives of Koforidua, climbed vertically arriving in a savannah landscape, relaxed in the shade of Umbrella Rock eating fresh coconut, followed by small children to the three-trunked palm tree, sat on a stone that is thought to make the sitter the bearer of twins (I sat on it twice, thought it might reverse the first time, but maybe I’m having quadruplets), swam in the pool below Boti falls. It rained.
Small things:
All the women here have fake hair. Sometimes it falls out and single braids are found disembodied on the side of the road (Andrew: gross right?).
Because they all have fake hair, the women change their hairstyles monthly, sometimes making it impossible to recognize your friends.
People here sweep all day long. If there is 100 leaves they sweep. If there are 10 leaves they sweep. If there is one leaf they sweep.
My new favorite meal is banku with pepe. Banku is a traditional Ghanaian dish made from cassava and corn that essentially tastes like unbaked sourdough bread. Pepe is a combination of tomatoes, peppers, and onions – spicy. No utensils allowed.
It is so hot now that I don’t even leave the room in the morning before I start sweating.
Last night I realized that I am really going to miss Ghana.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
a walk in the dark and no power
Day 87.
Saturday: Carmen and I left Legon at 6:45am for an overnight trip to the Volta Region. We went to Wli Falls since Carmen couldn’t come the first time. Though there wasn’t as much water this time, the sky was clear and there was a rainbow at the base of the waterfall that was almost too perfect. We went in the water and worked our way backward towards the falls, fighting the winds. The water got deeper as we got closer and though we were a little scared, we couldn’t stop laughing.
It was getting dark, but Carmen and I wanted to stay the night at the Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary for the 6am tour. We took a tro from Hohoe that we thought would drop us at the sanctuary. At 90kph, I saw the sign “Tafi Atome, 5km” with an arrow pointing right. Realizing that we weren’t stopping, I said, “Mate, Mate! We need to get off”.
Standing alone on the side of the road, in unfamiliar surroundings, we realized that our only option was to walk. It was pitch black by this time and we were on a dirt road flanked by dense vegetation on either side. At first, we were using our cell phone flashlights to guide the way but we turned them off when we realized we were surrounded by fireflies. Looking up it seemed as if the sky was a mirror – the stars stationary reflections of the fireflies below. It was quiet except for the insects and we felt safe. Up ahead, we could see the lights of a town. It wasn’t the sanctuary so we continued on. Almost out of town we were stopped by a very kind man offering us a place to stay if we didn’t want to walk. We thanked him and said we were fine, but asked how much further it was. “Oh, not far, just a stone’s throw, just a stone’s throw”. An hour later, we were there. Apparently, Ghanaian’s can throw stones far.
We have only had running water for about 5 hours in the last month. This week, the power has been off and on all over campus. This means we can’t charge our phones, laptops, or cameras, use internet (or a computer for that matter), lectures that require televisions or powerpoints are cancelled, and all the ice cream is melted. Despite all of that, it is nice when the lights are off, because when the power is out, there is no noise. Everyone retires early and speakers don’t work. I miss the quiet. Last night, I remembered that I had birthday candles, so I stuck three in a piece of bread and Carmen and I watched in silence as they slowly burned, flickering in the wind coming in through our window. After five perfect minutes of thought lost in flame, Carmen noticed that they left the shape of a heart burned into the bread.
Saturday: Carmen and I left Legon at 6:45am for an overnight trip to the Volta Region. We went to Wli Falls since Carmen couldn’t come the first time. Though there wasn’t as much water this time, the sky was clear and there was a rainbow at the base of the waterfall that was almost too perfect. We went in the water and worked our way backward towards the falls, fighting the winds. The water got deeper as we got closer and though we were a little scared, we couldn’t stop laughing.
It was getting dark, but Carmen and I wanted to stay the night at the Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary for the 6am tour. We took a tro from Hohoe that we thought would drop us at the sanctuary. At 90kph, I saw the sign “Tafi Atome, 5km” with an arrow pointing right. Realizing that we weren’t stopping, I said, “Mate, Mate! We need to get off”.
Standing alone on the side of the road, in unfamiliar surroundings, we realized that our only option was to walk. It was pitch black by this time and we were on a dirt road flanked by dense vegetation on either side. At first, we were using our cell phone flashlights to guide the way but we turned them off when we realized we were surrounded by fireflies. Looking up it seemed as if the sky was a mirror – the stars stationary reflections of the fireflies below. It was quiet except for the insects and we felt safe. Up ahead, we could see the lights of a town. It wasn’t the sanctuary so we continued on. Almost out of town we were stopped by a very kind man offering us a place to stay if we didn’t want to walk. We thanked him and said we were fine, but asked how much further it was. “Oh, not far, just a stone’s throw, just a stone’s throw”. An hour later, we were there. Apparently, Ghanaian’s can throw stones far.
We have only had running water for about 5 hours in the last month. This week, the power has been off and on all over campus. This means we can’t charge our phones, laptops, or cameras, use internet (or a computer for that matter), lectures that require televisions or powerpoints are cancelled, and all the ice cream is melted. Despite all of that, it is nice when the lights are off, because when the power is out, there is no noise. Everyone retires early and speakers don’t work. I miss the quiet. Last night, I remembered that I had birthday candles, so I stuck three in a piece of bread and Carmen and I watched in silence as they slowly burned, flickering in the wind coming in through our window. After five perfect minutes of thought lost in flame, Carmen noticed that they left the shape of a heart burned into the bread.
Monday, October 12, 2009
fake money for a fake country
Day 79.
Friday.
6:00pm: meeting to pay for Benin trip to support the Black Stars. 30 Ghana Cedis for international students. Paid. Told to meet at Central Cafeteria at 2am on Sunday to depart. Excitement is high!
Saturday
5:30pm: Meeting finalizing the details of the trip to Benin. International students are told we do not need visas as the organizers have received clearance from the Ministries for us to pass through the Togo and Benin borders with an escort for one day only. All we need to bring is our student id card; bring your passport if you have it. Time change: eet at Central Caf at 11pm, leaving at 12am.
10pm: Time change: text message received stating that the time we are to leave for Benin has been moved from midnight to three am, no reason given.
Sunday
12am: Nap until 2:30am.
2:45am: Walk to Central Caf to find other obrunis and some Ghanaians waiting in the dark. There is a bus but no one in it. I lay in the grass and wait.
3:45am: More people have shown up. Coordinators cannot be reached. We wait.
4:10am: We load the bus, however half of us don’t fit. They stay behind to wait for bus two. We wait in the bus. Many people haven’t slept. Coordinators show up.
5:30am: Bus one leaves UG campus. Bus two is still M.I.A.
9:45am: Arrive in Aflao, the border town. Exchange money from cedis to CFAs. We wait.
10:30am: At the border. The escort has left, as we were supposed to have arrived by 8am. Told by men in uniform that the obrunis will not be permitted to enter Togo or Benin without a visa. $20 in to Togo, $30 into Benin, $20 back in to Togo. No one has enough money or would be willing to pay even if they did. We must wait for bus two so that a bus of Ghanaians can proceed to the game and the obrunis head back to Accra. People are bummed but accept it and keep their cool.
11:30am: Bus two is still behind. We backtrack to meet it.
11:45am: We make the switch. The Ghanaians apologize for us not being able to go. We wish them a great time. Lots of handshakes, snaps, and smiles.
3:00pm: After a long, uncomfortable and hot bus ride, we are back at school. 30 Cedis and 12 hours down the drain.
4:30pm: The Black Stars lose to Benin.
The best part of the day was in Aflao, where Togolese women cross the border to sell baguettes (!) full of avocados, tomatoes, onions, and lettuce. Amazing, not quite worth 30 Cedis and 12 hours, but amazing nonetheless. Despite that fact that we weren’t able to see the game (or even step on Togo soil), the coastal drive to and from the border was beautiful, in an imperfect world, what more could we ask for?
anecdote: When we finally got off the bus, I asked Sauce if he was hungry (which he always is) and he said, jokingly serious, "yeah, but I only have that fake money for that fake country that we never went to". I laughed, then we walked to the traveling market where I bought him lunch in exchange for his fake money that I will use in Senegal. 1,000 CFA will probably get me quite a few more guacamole baguettes (fingers crossed that they have them there).
Friday.
6:00pm: meeting to pay for Benin trip to support the Black Stars. 30 Ghana Cedis for international students. Paid. Told to meet at Central Cafeteria at 2am on Sunday to depart. Excitement is high!
Saturday
5:30pm: Meeting finalizing the details of the trip to Benin. International students are told we do not need visas as the organizers have received clearance from the Ministries for us to pass through the Togo and Benin borders with an escort for one day only. All we need to bring is our student id card; bring your passport if you have it. Time change: eet at Central Caf at 11pm, leaving at 12am.
10pm: Time change: text message received stating that the time we are to leave for Benin has been moved from midnight to three am, no reason given.
Sunday
12am: Nap until 2:30am.
2:45am: Walk to Central Caf to find other obrunis and some Ghanaians waiting in the dark. There is a bus but no one in it. I lay in the grass and wait.
3:45am: More people have shown up. Coordinators cannot be reached. We wait.
4:10am: We load the bus, however half of us don’t fit. They stay behind to wait for bus two. We wait in the bus. Many people haven’t slept. Coordinators show up.
5:30am: Bus one leaves UG campus. Bus two is still M.I.A.
9:45am: Arrive in Aflao, the border town. Exchange money from cedis to CFAs. We wait.
10:30am: At the border. The escort has left, as we were supposed to have arrived by 8am. Told by men in uniform that the obrunis will not be permitted to enter Togo or Benin without a visa. $20 in to Togo, $30 into Benin, $20 back in to Togo. No one has enough money or would be willing to pay even if they did. We must wait for bus two so that a bus of Ghanaians can proceed to the game and the obrunis head back to Accra. People are bummed but accept it and keep their cool.
11:30am: Bus two is still behind. We backtrack to meet it.
11:45am: We make the switch. The Ghanaians apologize for us not being able to go. We wish them a great time. Lots of handshakes, snaps, and smiles.
3:00pm: After a long, uncomfortable and hot bus ride, we are back at school. 30 Cedis and 12 hours down the drain.
4:30pm: The Black Stars lose to Benin.
The best part of the day was in Aflao, where Togolese women cross the border to sell baguettes (!) full of avocados, tomatoes, onions, and lettuce. Amazing, not quite worth 30 Cedis and 12 hours, but amazing nonetheless. Despite that fact that we weren’t able to see the game (or even step on Togo soil), the coastal drive to and from the border was beautiful, in an imperfect world, what more could we ask for?
anecdote: When we finally got off the bus, I asked Sauce if he was hungry (which he always is) and he said, jokingly serious, "yeah, but I only have that fake money for that fake country that we never went to". I laughed, then we walked to the traveling market where I bought him lunch in exchange for his fake money that I will use in Senegal. 1,000 CFA will probably get me quite a few more guacamole baguettes (fingers crossed that they have them there).
Thursday, October 8, 2009
the market
Day 75.
Makola Market in Accra must be one of the largest in Ghana. It is a maze of stands, stalls, and so many people selling everything imaginable: flags, fabric, flip-flops, fan yogo, frying pans, fish, fruit …and those are just the things that begin with “f”. It is easy to get lost in the labyrinth and asking for directions usually just ends you up in the same place. Following someone is the only way to actually get to where you need to go. Winding through tro-tro stations, vegetable markets, clothes stalls, seamstress booths, and endless masses of people, who are all there doing the very same thing. The aromas are sometimes overwhelming; a combination of the best and worst scents possible (though worst takes the cake). Surrounded by vendors saying, “buy something from me!” “what do you want?” “America, I love you” “What is your name?” “Obruni, obruni, obruni”. Most just want to say hi and maybe touch your arm, others are aggressive but usually easy to handle but just walking away intently. Some just laugh. It is easy to get frustrated with all the attention but I have to keep in mind that I will never fit in here and sometimes I have to laugh at myself too. Despite the layer of dirt I was covered in and the exhaustion I felt after four hours of this, I left Makolaadfs with a smile…really looking forward to a nice cold bucket shower.
Makola Market in Accra must be one of the largest in Ghana. It is a maze of stands, stalls, and so many people selling everything imaginable: flags, fabric, flip-flops, fan yogo, frying pans, fish, fruit …and those are just the things that begin with “f”. It is easy to get lost in the labyrinth and asking for directions usually just ends you up in the same place. Following someone is the only way to actually get to where you need to go. Winding through tro-tro stations, vegetable markets, clothes stalls, seamstress booths, and endless masses of people, who are all there doing the very same thing. The aromas are sometimes overwhelming; a combination of the best and worst scents possible (though worst takes the cake). Surrounded by vendors saying, “buy something from me!” “what do you want?” “America, I love you” “What is your name?” “Obruni, obruni, obruni”. Most just want to say hi and maybe touch your arm, others are aggressive but usually easy to handle but just walking away intently. Some just laugh. It is easy to get frustrated with all the attention but I have to keep in mind that I will never fit in here and sometimes I have to laugh at myself too. Despite the layer of dirt I was covered in and the exhaustion I felt after four hours of this, I left Makolaadfs with a smile…really looking forward to a nice cold bucket shower.
Monday, October 5, 2009
...and I'm feeling good.
day 72.
last week: traditional dance performance. contemporary dance performance. paper writing. dance party. school play. pool party.
this week: paper writing. picture taking. bollywood film festival. market shopping.
this weekend: (fingers crossed) traveling to Benin to watch the Black Stars (again!)!
I feel refreshed. Almost as if I just arrived but this time in familiar settings. I love Ghana and I still have so much to look forward to: Boti Falls, botanical gardens, Mole National Park, Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary, rock shrines, the mysterious tree that moves around, Togo, Benin, Senegal!
last week: traditional dance performance. contemporary dance performance. paper writing. dance party. school play. pool party.
this week: paper writing. picture taking. bollywood film festival. market shopping.
this weekend: (fingers crossed) traveling to Benin to watch the Black Stars (again!)!
I feel refreshed. Almost as if I just arrived but this time in familiar settings. I love Ghana and I still have so much to look forward to: Boti Falls, botanical gardens, Mole National Park, Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary, rock shrines, the mysterious tree that moves around, Togo, Benin, Senegal!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
little things
Day 68.
There are strange, small, unidentified bugs that live on the walls in the shower, along with camouflage geckos.
On the walk to my 7:30 class, there is an elderly man with one tooth who always asks me to share my breakfast with him. I do.
There is a new vegan (!) stand at the Night Market, owned by a vegan woman. I have yet to explore its options.
The library is my favorite building on campus, especially because everything in it is at least 20 years old and dusty.
The “Healing Jesus Crusade” is coming to campus on October 9-10. The flyer boasts the words “Miracle Power!” and Evangelist dag Heward-Mills holding up multiple pairs of crutches. The flyer also notes that there will be a “Jesus March” on October 3.
Uncle Ben, the head porter in Volta Hall calls Carmen and me “Lucycar” when we are together (For the record Uncle B, as we nick named him after he gave us ours, must be the most jovial man I have ever met. Always a smile on his face ready to make conversation and laugh, he makes Volta Hall that much more amazing...Oh, and he rides a metallic gold bicycle, a little precariously, but none the less he is rad).
Found out that I have to keep my January 15th flight home because the first two weeks of the new year are booked, but I am going to call every week hoping for cancellations.
Finally got our passports back today after the month it took to extend our visas. Mine still expires before I leave so I have to go through the whole process again.
I have a small crush on 70-year old Professor Emeritus (in the botany department) Ebenezer Laing.
Lucas, the night guard for our block in Volta Hall like bananas so sometimes I surprise him with a bunch.
Baobab trees (Adansonia digitata) are my favorite so far -- photosynthetic bark near the base and stegosaurus spikes.
I miss you.
Top ten Ghanaian phrases:
1. “Obruni, how are you?” – Everyone from children to market women to professionals say this, always in the exact same tone.
2. “I’m fine”. – Never I’m good, or I’m not good or anything else, just “I’m fine”… always.
3. “Where are you going?” – Everyone and their mom wants to know this.
4. “Go and come.” – Said when you are leaving somewhere but will be returning later.
5. “You are invited.” -- People (especially strangers) say this to let you know that they want to share their food with you.
6. “Please, I’m coming”. – Used in place of the American “hold on”.
7. “It’s finished.” – When a particular item is sold out.
8. “Oh, sorry.” – Strangers and friends say this after you trip or drop something.
9. “You are welcome.” – Heard when arriving somewhere not after a “thank you”.
10. “Is that not it?” and “Is it okay?” – Professors say this to get clarification that the students understand.
There are strange, small, unidentified bugs that live on the walls in the shower, along with camouflage geckos.
On the walk to my 7:30 class, there is an elderly man with one tooth who always asks me to share my breakfast with him. I do.
There is a new vegan (!) stand at the Night Market, owned by a vegan woman. I have yet to explore its options.
The library is my favorite building on campus, especially because everything in it is at least 20 years old and dusty.
The “Healing Jesus Crusade” is coming to campus on October 9-10. The flyer boasts the words “Miracle Power!” and Evangelist dag Heward-Mills holding up multiple pairs of crutches. The flyer also notes that there will be a “Jesus March” on October 3.
Uncle Ben, the head porter in Volta Hall calls Carmen and me “Lucycar” when we are together (For the record Uncle B, as we nick named him after he gave us ours, must be the most jovial man I have ever met. Always a smile on his face ready to make conversation and laugh, he makes Volta Hall that much more amazing...Oh, and he rides a metallic gold bicycle, a little precariously, but none the less he is rad).
Found out that I have to keep my January 15th flight home because the first two weeks of the new year are booked, but I am going to call every week hoping for cancellations.
Finally got our passports back today after the month it took to extend our visas. Mine still expires before I leave so I have to go through the whole process again.
I have a small crush on 70-year old Professor Emeritus (in the botany department) Ebenezer Laing.
Lucas, the night guard for our block in Volta Hall like bananas so sometimes I surprise him with a bunch.
Baobab trees (Adansonia digitata) are my favorite so far -- photosynthetic bark near the base and stegosaurus spikes.
I miss you.
Top ten Ghanaian phrases:
1. “Obruni, how are you?” – Everyone from children to market women to professionals say this, always in the exact same tone.
2. “I’m fine”. – Never I’m good, or I’m not good or anything else, just “I’m fine”… always.
3. “Where are you going?” – Everyone and their mom wants to know this.
4. “Go and come.” – Said when you are leaving somewhere but will be returning later.
5. “You are invited.” -- People (especially strangers) say this to let you know that they want to share their food with you.
6. “Please, I’m coming”. – Used in place of the American “hold on”.
7. “It’s finished.” – When a particular item is sold out.
8. “Oh, sorry.” – Strangers and friends say this after you trip or drop something.
9. “You are welcome.” – Heard when arriving somewhere not after a “thank you”.
10. “Is that not it?” and “Is it okay?” – Professors say this to get clarification that the students understand.
Friday, September 25, 2009
a cheif's head, a missing finger, and no water.
Day 62.
The festival didn’t happen. The five of us (from now on called the Superhero Five: Carmen, Travis, Matt, Sauce, and I) arrived in Busua on Friday night, and while eating dinner we were told why there would be no festival this year. The Chief of Busua, who was killed about 170 years ago, had his head taken away from the community by the Dutch when they were in power of the Gold Coast. The head was moved from place to place but was most recently kept in a museum in Accra. This year, the head was finally returned to the village where it is to be buried. In Ghanaian culture, there is never a festival the year of a chief’s burial as the community is mourning…even if more than fifteen decades have passed…and all you have is his head.
No festival meant relaxation. Relaxation on beautiful beaches in the friendliest place we have been yet. As we had been to Busua before, I felt comfortable finding my way around and venturing a bit on my own. Our days were spent in the sunshine and waves enjoying the quiet, reading, and playing games. My attempts at body boarding ended unsuccessfully and I got too sunburned on Saturday to try again on Sunday. Along the beaches there were many children yelling, “Picture, picture!” After every shot, they want to see what they look like just so they can laugh the same every time.
After staying at Sabina’s Guest House (where we stayed last time) for two nights, we decided to move to the Black Mambo Corner on our third and final night. To get to the place, we had to wade through the river that flows into the ocean. The owners of the place, a Rasta named Alex and his brother Joseph were great hosts and interesting to talk with. The accommodations were outrageous for the price – ocean-side octagonal guesthouse surrounded by native plants. A gazebo only ten yards away with a terrific view of Abokwa Island and the fishing boats coming back to shore. We fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing with great power against the rocks and this is what we woke up to in the morning. Amazing. After we checked out on Sunday, we heard from someone in the village that there is a rumor that Alex, who was married to a German woman that he told us “left him” two years ago, murdered his wife, and that is why he cut off all of his dreads…he was also missing his pinky finger on his left hand, a sign?
We returned from the weekend to school, sunshine (it's hot!), and celebration (Travis' birthday was on Tuesday so we splurged on 2 for 1 pizza and ice cream at Bonjour). This is the sixth week of instruction and as the semesters are only 13 weeks long, we are almost halfway done...then finals...then traveling...then home.
The water in Volta Hall has been out for over a week. The Polytanks (big black water reserve tanks that are located in every block) are all out too. This means all we have is sachet water. It is not so bad to not shower (though I can see dirt in the crease of my elbow), but not flushing the toilet when 10 girls use the same one is a problem. The halls located closer to the main gate have water more consistently because it doesn't have to be pumped as far. Maybe we will go there with our buckets to collect water and bring it back? I guess this is Africa...
The festival didn’t happen. The five of us (from now on called the Superhero Five: Carmen, Travis, Matt, Sauce, and I) arrived in Busua on Friday night, and while eating dinner we were told why there would be no festival this year. The Chief of Busua, who was killed about 170 years ago, had his head taken away from the community by the Dutch when they were in power of the Gold Coast. The head was moved from place to place but was most recently kept in a museum in Accra. This year, the head was finally returned to the village where it is to be buried. In Ghanaian culture, there is never a festival the year of a chief’s burial as the community is mourning…even if more than fifteen decades have passed…and all you have is his head.
No festival meant relaxation. Relaxation on beautiful beaches in the friendliest place we have been yet. As we had been to Busua before, I felt comfortable finding my way around and venturing a bit on my own. Our days were spent in the sunshine and waves enjoying the quiet, reading, and playing games. My attempts at body boarding ended unsuccessfully and I got too sunburned on Saturday to try again on Sunday. Along the beaches there were many children yelling, “Picture, picture!” After every shot, they want to see what they look like just so they can laugh the same every time.
After staying at Sabina’s Guest House (where we stayed last time) for two nights, we decided to move to the Black Mambo Corner on our third and final night. To get to the place, we had to wade through the river that flows into the ocean. The owners of the place, a Rasta named Alex and his brother Joseph were great hosts and interesting to talk with. The accommodations were outrageous for the price – ocean-side octagonal guesthouse surrounded by native plants. A gazebo only ten yards away with a terrific view of Abokwa Island and the fishing boats coming back to shore. We fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing with great power against the rocks and this is what we woke up to in the morning. Amazing. After we checked out on Sunday, we heard from someone in the village that there is a rumor that Alex, who was married to a German woman that he told us “left him” two years ago, murdered his wife, and that is why he cut off all of his dreads…he was also missing his pinky finger on his left hand, a sign?
We returned from the weekend to school, sunshine (it's hot!), and celebration (Travis' birthday was on Tuesday so we splurged on 2 for 1 pizza and ice cream at Bonjour). This is the sixth week of instruction and as the semesters are only 13 weeks long, we are almost halfway done...then finals...then traveling...then home.
The water in Volta Hall has been out for over a week. The Polytanks (big black water reserve tanks that are located in every block) are all out too. This means all we have is sachet water. It is not so bad to not shower (though I can see dirt in the crease of my elbow), but not flushing the toilet when 10 girls use the same one is a problem. The halls located closer to the main gate have water more consistently because it doesn't have to be pumped as far. Maybe we will go there with our buckets to collect water and bring it back? I guess this is Africa...
Friday, September 18, 2009
Shai Hills, favorite things, and things I miss
Day 55.
Tuesday. 7:30am: BOTN 427 Field Trip to Shai Hills Resource Reserve – a 52km2 protected area, home to monitor lizards, many species of birds, bats, kob – an African antelope species, and baboons. In the botany department vehicle, my professor, myself, and two other students (the third was left behind for being five minutes late… contradictory to Ghanaian time?) rode an hour and a half into the Accra Plains. Upon arrival, we were met by a truck-bed full of teenaged Ghanaians wanting to talk to us (“Obruni, bra bra bra bra”. “Bra” means, “come”) and the Reserve’s manager. After a meeting with the five head officers of the reserve, we were taken on a private tour by the chief of law enforcement. His job is to keep poachers out by any means necessary. While we were driving, I noticed from the backseat that there was a bullet shaped scar on the back of his right hand…..crossfire? Our tour consisted of driving through a grassland savannah spotted with hilly rock outcrops – reminiscent of The Lion King. We parked the old SUV at the base of one of the hills to visit a baobab shrine and climb the rocky hill to a bat cave. Damp and cold, the cave echoed with the sounds of bats and smelled of guano. Squeezing between two slanted rocks to the back of the cave where fragments of sunlight broke through, we reached their home. Through a crevice, we saw hundreds of bats flying agitatedly in circles, making the most unique screeching sound. After a few minutes of watching in awe and silence, we turned back, leaving the bats in peace. Only a few minutes after we returned to the reserve road, Professor Adomako spotted two kob about 300 meters away stopped dead in their tracks, staring directly at us. Seeing these animals in their natural habitat is a rare occurrence, even at the reserve…we were in luck. Not even a mile away, as we were passing the security guards’ housing, we were met by three adult baboons and two babies idly minding their own business…double luck.
A few weeks prior to this field trip, I had been feeling like I was in a little swamp. I wasn’t having a terrific time here because I got lost in my ideas of what I thought Ghana would be like. I hadn’t traveled in a while (not including Cape Coast) and I was feeling murky on campus. After talking to one of my favorite people from home, I felt much better. This trip was like a new beginning. It reminded me of why I came to Ghana in the first place – not to go on touristy adventures but to have once-in-a-lifetime experiences that I will never forget.
To keep on the positive side here are my favorite things so far: wli falls. nzulezo. kele wele. receiving letters. listening to the drums. traveling light. fresh pineapple. mount afadjato. rainforest trees.
For the sake of balance, here are the things I miss most: lying in the grass. tap water (hot water?). mexican food. fixed prices. fixed gears. mary’s napoletana pizza (with no cheese). pickles. Mlzs!(use the code, detective).
Traveling this weekend to Busua for their annual festival...crossing my fingers that it's more enjoyable than Cape Coast...
Tuesday. 7:30am: BOTN 427 Field Trip to Shai Hills Resource Reserve – a 52km2 protected area, home to monitor lizards, many species of birds, bats, kob – an African antelope species, and baboons. In the botany department vehicle, my professor, myself, and two other students (the third was left behind for being five minutes late… contradictory to Ghanaian time?) rode an hour and a half into the Accra Plains. Upon arrival, we were met by a truck-bed full of teenaged Ghanaians wanting to talk to us (“Obruni, bra bra bra bra”. “Bra” means, “come”) and the Reserve’s manager. After a meeting with the five head officers of the reserve, we were taken on a private tour by the chief of law enforcement. His job is to keep poachers out by any means necessary. While we were driving, I noticed from the backseat that there was a bullet shaped scar on the back of his right hand…..crossfire? Our tour consisted of driving through a grassland savannah spotted with hilly rock outcrops – reminiscent of The Lion King. We parked the old SUV at the base of one of the hills to visit a baobab shrine and climb the rocky hill to a bat cave. Damp and cold, the cave echoed with the sounds of bats and smelled of guano. Squeezing between two slanted rocks to the back of the cave where fragments of sunlight broke through, we reached their home. Through a crevice, we saw hundreds of bats flying agitatedly in circles, making the most unique screeching sound. After a few minutes of watching in awe and silence, we turned back, leaving the bats in peace. Only a few minutes after we returned to the reserve road, Professor Adomako spotted two kob about 300 meters away stopped dead in their tracks, staring directly at us. Seeing these animals in their natural habitat is a rare occurrence, even at the reserve…we were in luck. Not even a mile away, as we were passing the security guards’ housing, we were met by three adult baboons and two babies idly minding their own business…double luck.
A few weeks prior to this field trip, I had been feeling like I was in a little swamp. I wasn’t having a terrific time here because I got lost in my ideas of what I thought Ghana would be like. I hadn’t traveled in a while (not including Cape Coast) and I was feeling murky on campus. After talking to one of my favorite people from home, I felt much better. This trip was like a new beginning. It reminded me of why I came to Ghana in the first place – not to go on touristy adventures but to have once-in-a-lifetime experiences that I will never forget.
To keep on the positive side here are my favorite things so far: wli falls. nzulezo. kele wele. receiving letters. listening to the drums. traveling light. fresh pineapple. mount afadjato. rainforest trees.
For the sake of balance, here are the things I miss most: lying in the grass. tap water (hot water?). mexican food. fixed prices. fixed gears. mary’s napoletana pizza (with no cheese). pickles. Mlzs!(use the code, detective).
Traveling this weekend to Busua for their annual festival...crossing my fingers that it's more enjoyable than Cape Coast...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Cape Coast Fest, Football, and Sewage
Day 45.
On Thursday of last week, we all (EAP students) travelled to Cape Coast for their annual festival. We arrived at night in just enough time to search for dinner. A group of us followed Kofi, one of the EAP facilitators, to find food. We were surrounded by street food but Kofi said that we shouldn’t eat it – he would but we shouldn’t. It was dark out and very noisy. It is typically noisy here, but in preparation for the festival, there were huge industrial speakers stacked every few hundred meters….playing the same six songs…over and over and over. After a long walk weaving through crowds of unfamiliar people wanting to talk to us, we ended up at Castle Beach restaurant – one look at the menu (4.5 GH cedi for a plate of chicken and rice) we left…to go eat street food.
Friday. We woke up to bad news. The hotel had been broken into and Travis’ very expensive professional camera, 150 GH cedis, and 2 backpacks were missing. The backpacks were found but the money and the camera were long gone. The rest of the day we spent enjoying Cape Coast: we had pancakes made by a Rastafarian named Stone, climbed to the top of a fort overlooking the whole city, ate at a vegetarian (!!) place for lunch (Avocado sandwich – bomb), and Carmen and I accidentally slept through the sacrifice of a bull (they hacked his head off with a machete and dragged him through the streets with it barely attached…part of me is glad I missed it). The day was great, but come nighttime I found that I really do not have a taste for Cape Coast, at least not during festival time. There were far too many people looking at us to see what they could steal and grabbing us as we walked by. As compared with other places we have been in Ghana, Cape Coast is currently low on the list.
Saturday. The day of the festival. Thousands of people were in the streets dancing and celebrating underneath their Chiefs or Queen Mothers who were carried on people’s heads like in Roman times. As each chief passed, he danced to the beating of drums following him, smiling at the crowd and his people below. Everybody was full of energy and excitement. There were people dressed up in all kinds of costumes (nurses, monkeys, stilt walkers, only underwear, clowns, regalia, drag, matching outfits) and it was very colorful. The procession lasted a few hours and it was hot. Working our way through the crowd was not easy as people would stop us and say “Obruni, dance!” and then laugh as if they’ve never seen a white person dance before.
That evening, Marlon, Alex, Nikos, Sauce, and I went looking for dinner. Sauce spotted a sign for a street stand that said “Special Soup”. Being an adventurous eater, he walked over to check it out; we followed. He lifted the lid of the soup to see pieces of unfamiliar looking meat floating in it. He asked the women selling the soup, “What kind of meat is that?” One woman replied what sounded like “kaat”. Not understanding, he asked again, “What kind of meat is that?” Again she replied, “It’s kaat”. We still didn’t understand so she asked a man near by to help explain. He said, “It’s kaat. You know, we have dogs and we have kaats.” The three women behind the stand proceeded to meow. Sauce said, “I’ll take it!” I left.
Sunday. We woke up still tired from the previous day to take the three-hour bus ride back to Accra. Despite our exhaustion, we had our friends from Tufts buy us tickets to the Fourth Round FIFA World Cup Qualifiers: Ghana Black Stars vs. Sudan – my first real soccer game. It was amazing. The stadium was packed with Black Stars fans wearing Appiah and Essien jerseys, waving Ghanaian flags, blowing noisemakers, and covered head to toe in body paint. We had VIP seats: third row, center field. Though there was a pane of glass between us and the action, we got to sit right behind the players. The Black Stars scored once each half making the scores Ghana 2, Sudan 0. The final whistle was blown by the Vice President of Ghana, who then officially stated that Ghana has qualified for the World Cup…and the crowd goes crazy.
Today: this deserves a blog post of it's own but I am going to add it here and make it brief. Just a few hours ago, I went on a field trip for my Conservation and Environmental Studies class. We were going into Accra to see how they manage liquid waste (sewage). The "high tech" facility that cost 22 million pounds that began running in 2002 broke down in 2004 and all of Accra's sewage has been diverted to the Atlantic Ocean ever since. We literally saw sewage trucks pull up to the beach and release all of their sewage then drive away. Devastating for so many reasons. Maybe I will write more later, after I have had time to process what I saw.
On Thursday of last week, we all (EAP students) travelled to Cape Coast for their annual festival. We arrived at night in just enough time to search for dinner. A group of us followed Kofi, one of the EAP facilitators, to find food. We were surrounded by street food but Kofi said that we shouldn’t eat it – he would but we shouldn’t. It was dark out and very noisy. It is typically noisy here, but in preparation for the festival, there were huge industrial speakers stacked every few hundred meters….playing the same six songs…over and over and over. After a long walk weaving through crowds of unfamiliar people wanting to talk to us, we ended up at Castle Beach restaurant – one look at the menu (4.5 GH cedi for a plate of chicken and rice) we left…to go eat street food.
Friday. We woke up to bad news. The hotel had been broken into and Travis’ very expensive professional camera, 150 GH cedis, and 2 backpacks were missing. The backpacks were found but the money and the camera were long gone. The rest of the day we spent enjoying Cape Coast: we had pancakes made by a Rastafarian named Stone, climbed to the top of a fort overlooking the whole city, ate at a vegetarian (!!) place for lunch (Avocado sandwich – bomb), and Carmen and I accidentally slept through the sacrifice of a bull (they hacked his head off with a machete and dragged him through the streets with it barely attached…part of me is glad I missed it). The day was great, but come nighttime I found that I really do not have a taste for Cape Coast, at least not during festival time. There were far too many people looking at us to see what they could steal and grabbing us as we walked by. As compared with other places we have been in Ghana, Cape Coast is currently low on the list.
Saturday. The day of the festival. Thousands of people were in the streets dancing and celebrating underneath their Chiefs or Queen Mothers who were carried on people’s heads like in Roman times. As each chief passed, he danced to the beating of drums following him, smiling at the crowd and his people below. Everybody was full of energy and excitement. There were people dressed up in all kinds of costumes (nurses, monkeys, stilt walkers, only underwear, clowns, regalia, drag, matching outfits) and it was very colorful. The procession lasted a few hours and it was hot. Working our way through the crowd was not easy as people would stop us and say “Obruni, dance!” and then laugh as if they’ve never seen a white person dance before.
That evening, Marlon, Alex, Nikos, Sauce, and I went looking for dinner. Sauce spotted a sign for a street stand that said “Special Soup”. Being an adventurous eater, he walked over to check it out; we followed. He lifted the lid of the soup to see pieces of unfamiliar looking meat floating in it. He asked the women selling the soup, “What kind of meat is that?” One woman replied what sounded like “kaat”. Not understanding, he asked again, “What kind of meat is that?” Again she replied, “It’s kaat”. We still didn’t understand so she asked a man near by to help explain. He said, “It’s kaat. You know, we have dogs and we have kaats.” The three women behind the stand proceeded to meow. Sauce said, “I’ll take it!” I left.
Sunday. We woke up still tired from the previous day to take the three-hour bus ride back to Accra. Despite our exhaustion, we had our friends from Tufts buy us tickets to the Fourth Round FIFA World Cup Qualifiers: Ghana Black Stars vs. Sudan – my first real soccer game. It was amazing. The stadium was packed with Black Stars fans wearing Appiah and Essien jerseys, waving Ghanaian flags, blowing noisemakers, and covered head to toe in body paint. We had VIP seats: third row, center field. Though there was a pane of glass between us and the action, we got to sit right behind the players. The Black Stars scored once each half making the scores Ghana 2, Sudan 0. The final whistle was blown by the Vice President of Ghana, who then officially stated that Ghana has qualified for the World Cup…and the crowd goes crazy.
Today: this deserves a blog post of it's own but I am going to add it here and make it brief. Just a few hours ago, I went on a field trip for my Conservation and Environmental Studies class. We were going into Accra to see how they manage liquid waste (sewage). The "high tech" facility that cost 22 million pounds that began running in 2002 broke down in 2004 and all of Accra's sewage has been diverted to the Atlantic Ocean ever since. We literally saw sewage trucks pull up to the beach and release all of their sewage then drive away. Devastating for so many reasons. Maybe I will write more later, after I have had time to process what I saw.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
my monday through friday
day 32.
My class schedule is finalized (let's hope). So here is the breakdown:
Mondays:
11:30-1:30 Traditional Dance. The teacher's name is Babaqueue (he told us to call him Barbecue). There are about 50 people in the class, half of them are obrunis and we all have to wear white shirts and black bottoms. There is live drumming and we are learning Ghanaian dances from the various ethnic groups. The dancing involves jumping, bouncing, bending, clapping, stepping (right-right-left-left), and something that resembles closely what doing "the chicken" would look like back home. The room gets hot and we sweat, it's great!
1:30-3:30 Environmental Ecology. The first lecture was extremely basic, about the level of fourth graders not fourth years (what is the environment? what is ecology? what is: a cell, an organism, an organelle, a population, a community, the biosphere?). Despite the elementary material thus far I am going to stay in the class. I feel like even if it is all review, it can't hurt and I am really curious as to how the academics of the class will progress. The professor seems to be a nice guy and we are going to do group projects. (p.s. all energy comes from the sun, in case you didn't know).
3:30-5:30 Introduction to Twi (the primary language of the Accra Region). The first lesson basically consisted of teaching us how to pronounce the word "Twi." To say it correctly you have to whistle a little. Don't make a "T" sound or else everyone will laugh at you. After class I went back to Volta Hall. My neighbor asked, "Where from you?" I told her that I just came from Twi lessons, trying my hardest to pronounce it right. She laughed and said "How are you going to take that class when you can't even say it right?" Darn.
Tuesday:
8:30-9:30 Traditional Dance again. clap-clap-clap (to the right). clap-clap-clap-clap-clap (twice as fast to the left).
9:30-12:30 Conservation and Environmental Science Lab, in the botany department. Throughout the semester, we will look at environmental issues specifically as they apply to Ghana and West Africa. The teacher is only going to lecture for the first three weeks then the students choose topics and make presentations (this could be great or really terrible). There are four field trips (rad!). On the first day I arrived (a bit late and sweating from dance class) to find only two other students in the room. The professor arrived and said, "Good morning, it looks like we're only missing three people. Maybe they have dropped because that would make it much better for us". This is going to be the smallest class I've ever taken. I'm super excited.
Wednesday:
7:30-9:30 Conservation and Environmental Science, Lecture. One more person showed up today, that makes four. Oh yeah, the reading list has 13 books, that is one for each week. They are not sold at the book store but rather have to be checked out from the professor and returned. There is only one copy of each. None of the books were published after 2000.
11:30-1:30 African Indigenous Religion. I just decided to switch to this today so I haven't had class yet. I was going to take Rural Development Theory at this time but in class today the teacher had us write down everything he said word for word. No thanks.
3:30-5:30 Introduction to Twi. Today we learned greetings. Maakye means good morning ("ky" is pronounced "ch"). Maaha means good afternoon. Maadwo means good night. I think I've got these down.
Thursday:
7:30-9:30 Advanced Taxonomy Lecture (botany department: plants, not animals). This is the class I am most looking forward to. Botanizing in Ghana. Yes please.
Friday:
11:30-1:30 Music of West and Central Africa. I have not yet had this class either but my roommate,Carmen, went last week and said it was really good. She is an ethnomusicology major at UCLA. I am excited to listen to and learn about the different types of traditional and popular music. I will post music recommendations often.
1:30-4:30 Advanced Taxonomy Lab. There is an amazing botanical garden on campus. I want to live there.
That leaves Saturdays and Sundays to travel, study, sleep, explore, and read. Let the adventures continue....
My class schedule is finalized (let's hope). So here is the breakdown:
Mondays:
11:30-1:30 Traditional Dance. The teacher's name is Babaqueue (he told us to call him Barbecue). There are about 50 people in the class, half of them are obrunis and we all have to wear white shirts and black bottoms. There is live drumming and we are learning Ghanaian dances from the various ethnic groups. The dancing involves jumping, bouncing, bending, clapping, stepping (right-right-left-left), and something that resembles closely what doing "the chicken" would look like back home. The room gets hot and we sweat, it's great!
1:30-3:30 Environmental Ecology. The first lecture was extremely basic, about the level of fourth graders not fourth years (what is the environment? what is ecology? what is: a cell, an organism, an organelle, a population, a community, the biosphere?). Despite the elementary material thus far I am going to stay in the class. I feel like even if it is all review, it can't hurt and I am really curious as to how the academics of the class will progress. The professor seems to be a nice guy and we are going to do group projects. (p.s. all energy comes from the sun, in case you didn't know).
3:30-5:30 Introduction to Twi (the primary language of the Accra Region). The first lesson basically consisted of teaching us how to pronounce the word "Twi." To say it correctly you have to whistle a little. Don't make a "T" sound or else everyone will laugh at you. After class I went back to Volta Hall. My neighbor asked, "Where from you?" I told her that I just came from Twi lessons, trying my hardest to pronounce it right. She laughed and said "How are you going to take that class when you can't even say it right?" Darn.
Tuesday:
8:30-9:30 Traditional Dance again. clap-clap-clap (to the right). clap-clap-clap-clap-clap (twice as fast to the left).
9:30-12:30 Conservation and Environmental Science Lab, in the botany department. Throughout the semester, we will look at environmental issues specifically as they apply to Ghana and West Africa. The teacher is only going to lecture for the first three weeks then the students choose topics and make presentations (this could be great or really terrible). There are four field trips (rad!). On the first day I arrived (a bit late and sweating from dance class) to find only two other students in the room. The professor arrived and said, "Good morning, it looks like we're only missing three people. Maybe they have dropped because that would make it much better for us". This is going to be the smallest class I've ever taken. I'm super excited.
Wednesday:
7:30-9:30 Conservation and Environmental Science, Lecture. One more person showed up today, that makes four. Oh yeah, the reading list has 13 books, that is one for each week. They are not sold at the book store but rather have to be checked out from the professor and returned. There is only one copy of each. None of the books were published after 2000.
11:30-1:30 African Indigenous Religion. I just decided to switch to this today so I haven't had class yet. I was going to take Rural Development Theory at this time but in class today the teacher had us write down everything he said word for word. No thanks.
3:30-5:30 Introduction to Twi. Today we learned greetings. Maakye means good morning ("ky" is pronounced "ch"). Maaha means good afternoon. Maadwo means good night. I think I've got these down.
Thursday:
7:30-9:30 Advanced Taxonomy Lecture (botany department: plants, not animals). This is the class I am most looking forward to. Botanizing in Ghana. Yes please.
Friday:
11:30-1:30 Music of West and Central Africa. I have not yet had this class either but my roommate,Carmen, went last week and said it was really good. She is an ethnomusicology major at UCLA. I am excited to listen to and learn about the different types of traditional and popular music. I will post music recommendations often.
1:30-4:30 Advanced Taxonomy Lab. There is an amazing botanical garden on campus. I want to live there.
That leaves Saturdays and Sundays to travel, study, sleep, explore, and read. Let the adventures continue....
Sunday, August 23, 2009
a baby goat ate my banana peel
day 29.
School was supposed to start last week. It didn't. I went to two classes, one in which nobody showed up except me and one where hundreds of people showed up and they had us wait for hours to finally tell us to go home and come back the next day. Not wanting to stick around for more of this, we decided to use last week as an excuse to travel. Carmen had rehearsals and Sauce had malaria so it was just me, Travis, and Matt. We left on Wednesday.
Wednesday. Destination: Ada Foah, the small village where the Volta River meets the Atlantic Ocean. We arrived around dinner time, options were sparse. The boys ate fufu, I ate rice. We met some funny people and had long conversations about "The Revolution". Stimulating. When Travis asked Nii Ana, "What is the one thing that you think Ghana needs to change to progress as a country?" he replied, "We need to stop criticizing! We are all one." (He also was telling us how 9/11 was an inside job, as if we didn't already know...Mom you would have liked him).
Thursday. Slept in until 8:30. Ate bread with ground nut paste. Took a two-hour walk along the dirtiest beach I've ever seen (covered in plastic bags, bottles, wrappers, nets, empty water sachets, dead fish, and shit, human shit). Despite the filth, the waves were incredible as we walked in the hot sun and watched the fishing boats. When we reached the point where the Volta meets the ocean we sat and watched. The two bodies of water are in constant contact but retain very individual natures. Magnificent. We watched the colorful fishing boats come in with fisherman arguing loudly and birds in their wake.
Our next destination was Hohoe. At the tro-tro station after much commotion, we boarded a tro-tro that we thought was on its way to Ho, the capital of the Volta Region. A few hours into the journey we realized that we were headed to Aflao instead. Aflao is essentially on the Ghana/Togo border and really far out of our way. At Aflao station we bought fresh bananas and boarded yet another tro-tro to Ho. After many hours and a third tro-tro ride, we made it to Hohoe. Long day.
Friday. Destination: Mount Afadjato and Wli Falls (the highest mountain and waterfalls in West Africa). Alarm went off at 5:15, we snoozed it until 6:15, though in Ghana everyone is up by then and it is often hard to sleep through the noise from outside. We waited at the tro-tro station for a while waiting for a taxi accompanied by a one-legged chicken. Around 9:30 (after taking a taxi meant for five people but filled with eight) we were at the base of the mountain At 885 meters, it is a small mountain by California standards but the hike was tough, 30-45 degree incline the whole time. At the top, we could see all of the Volta Region. Spectacular (worth the sweat).
We walked for an hour with some village children carrying corn flour on their heads to the next village to catch a taxi. Our driver emerged from the forest wearing a uniform and carrying a big gun. While we were waiting for him to change, a baby goat ate the banana peel off of my banana. To get to Wli Falls we walked for a half hour with a guide. Within 100 meters of the Falls we could feel the mist. We put on our bathing suits and went for it. The falls were amazing. We swam under them and fought our way towards them against the 30-40 mile per hour winds they were generating. It was definitely one of the most awesome natural experiences I have ever had. Again we spent the night in Hohoe. Tired.
Saturday: Destination: Legon. After only three days of traveling we were beat. It takes a lot of energy to get places here and often communication and interactions are not easy. At the tro-tro station we were caught in the most intense battle over us by two tro-tro drivers and the people who they pay to help get passengers (yelling on both sides, and grabbing us to come with them to their tro-tro). After about ten minutes, we decided on one of them. I think we mad the wrong choice because our driver was an idiot. After bribing three police officers, passing one accident and five funerals, and getting stopped by immigration police (who wanted our passports and visas which we didn't have on us) we made it back to campus.
I'm realizing that as amazing as my experience has been so far, it is not easy to be here. Everyday I am challenged in some way. I can feel that I am learning more that I am able to process. A few months before I left, I met a homeless man on my stoop in Berkeley. He approached my singing an African song. I stopped him to ask where he was from. Rwanda. I told him that I was going to Ghana for school. He sat down on the step next to me and told me slowly, "You will pass a life test". I can still hear his voice and see his face. Now I know what he meant.
School was supposed to start last week. It didn't. I went to two classes, one in which nobody showed up except me and one where hundreds of people showed up and they had us wait for hours to finally tell us to go home and come back the next day. Not wanting to stick around for more of this, we decided to use last week as an excuse to travel. Carmen had rehearsals and Sauce had malaria so it was just me, Travis, and Matt. We left on Wednesday.
Wednesday. Destination: Ada Foah, the small village where the Volta River meets the Atlantic Ocean. We arrived around dinner time, options were sparse. The boys ate fufu, I ate rice. We met some funny people and had long conversations about "The Revolution". Stimulating. When Travis asked Nii Ana, "What is the one thing that you think Ghana needs to change to progress as a country?" he replied, "We need to stop criticizing! We are all one." (He also was telling us how 9/11 was an inside job, as if we didn't already know...Mom you would have liked him).
Thursday. Slept in until 8:30. Ate bread with ground nut paste. Took a two-hour walk along the dirtiest beach I've ever seen (covered in plastic bags, bottles, wrappers, nets, empty water sachets, dead fish, and shit, human shit). Despite the filth, the waves were incredible as we walked in the hot sun and watched the fishing boats. When we reached the point where the Volta meets the ocean we sat and watched. The two bodies of water are in constant contact but retain very individual natures. Magnificent. We watched the colorful fishing boats come in with fisherman arguing loudly and birds in their wake.
Our next destination was Hohoe. At the tro-tro station after much commotion, we boarded a tro-tro that we thought was on its way to Ho, the capital of the Volta Region. A few hours into the journey we realized that we were headed to Aflao instead. Aflao is essentially on the Ghana/Togo border and really far out of our way. At Aflao station we bought fresh bananas and boarded yet another tro-tro to Ho. After many hours and a third tro-tro ride, we made it to Hohoe. Long day.
Friday. Destination: Mount Afadjato and Wli Falls (the highest mountain and waterfalls in West Africa). Alarm went off at 5:15, we snoozed it until 6:15, though in Ghana everyone is up by then and it is often hard to sleep through the noise from outside. We waited at the tro-tro station for a while waiting for a taxi accompanied by a one-legged chicken. Around 9:30 (after taking a taxi meant for five people but filled with eight) we were at the base of the mountain At 885 meters, it is a small mountain by California standards but the hike was tough, 30-45 degree incline the whole time. At the top, we could see all of the Volta Region. Spectacular (worth the sweat).
We walked for an hour with some village children carrying corn flour on their heads to the next village to catch a taxi. Our driver emerged from the forest wearing a uniform and carrying a big gun. While we were waiting for him to change, a baby goat ate the banana peel off of my banana. To get to Wli Falls we walked for a half hour with a guide. Within 100 meters of the Falls we could feel the mist. We put on our bathing suits and went for it. The falls were amazing. We swam under them and fought our way towards them against the 30-40 mile per hour winds they were generating. It was definitely one of the most awesome natural experiences I have ever had. Again we spent the night in Hohoe. Tired.
Saturday: Destination: Legon. After only three days of traveling we were beat. It takes a lot of energy to get places here and often communication and interactions are not easy. At the tro-tro station we were caught in the most intense battle over us by two tro-tro drivers and the people who they pay to help get passengers (yelling on both sides, and grabbing us to come with them to their tro-tro). After about ten minutes, we decided on one of them. I think we mad the wrong choice because our driver was an idiot. After bribing three police officers, passing one accident and five funerals, and getting stopped by immigration police (who wanted our passports and visas which we didn't have on us) we made it back to campus.
I'm realizing that as amazing as my experience has been so far, it is not easy to be here. Everyday I am challenged in some way. I can feel that I am learning more that I am able to process. A few months before I left, I met a homeless man on my stoop in Berkeley. He approached my singing an African song. I stopped him to ask where he was from. Rwanda. I told him that I was going to Ghana for school. He sat down on the step next to me and told me slowly, "You will pass a life test". I can still hear his voice and see his face. Now I know what he meant.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
first solo venture and confusion
day 22 (three weeks!)
First Solo Venture: On Friday, I had to go in to Accra to return the phone that I purchased on Wenesday. Carmen had rehearsal (she is playing flute with a Ghanaian pop band). I didn't have a phone to get in touch with anyone else, so I went solo.
I walked to the tro-tro station that is right outside the main gate of campus, as I have done many times before with others. I listened for a mate calling out "Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra" meaning that tro-tro is headed towards Accra. I got on, paid my fare (20 pesewas for the 10 minute ride) and got off at the right place. I got off at the mall stop and despite being followed by chilren wanting money, it went smoothly. Once I was in the mall, or the wrinkle in time (because it is like a completely different universe in there), I bought a few things at the main store called Game (a bread knife, some colored pencils, cleaning spray, toilet paper, and birthday candles) I proceeded to find the bank. Twenty minutes and five sets of directions later I found it and bought a working phone.
I then left the mall and waited for a tro-tro to take me back to school. During more trafficky times, the tro-tro change their route. Not knowing this, I begin to realize on the tro-tro that it was not taking hte normal route to school. We were suddenly driving on a pot-holed dirt road in the middle of corn fields. Thinking I had made yet another mistake in Ghana I planned on getting off at the next stop and starting over. To my surprise, the next stop was just across the street from campus. Success.
Confusion: Each day, registration becomes more and more complicated. Looks like a have to refigure my schedule yet again. Classes that I am not going to sacrifice: Botany 419 Advanced Taxonomy, Botany 411 Fungi and Lichen, Geography 429 Environmental Ecology, Study of Religion 423 Ecological Ethics, Music 317: Intro to West and Central African Music.
Classes are supposed to start tomorrow. I'll bet on next week...Ghana time.
First Solo Venture: On Friday, I had to go in to Accra to return the phone that I purchased on Wenesday. Carmen had rehearsal (she is playing flute with a Ghanaian pop band). I didn't have a phone to get in touch with anyone else, so I went solo.
I walked to the tro-tro station that is right outside the main gate of campus, as I have done many times before with others. I listened for a mate calling out "Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra" meaning that tro-tro is headed towards Accra. I got on, paid my fare (20 pesewas for the 10 minute ride) and got off at the right place. I got off at the mall stop and despite being followed by chilren wanting money, it went smoothly. Once I was in the mall, or the wrinkle in time (because it is like a completely different universe in there), I bought a few things at the main store called Game (a bread knife, some colored pencils, cleaning spray, toilet paper, and birthday candles) I proceeded to find the bank. Twenty minutes and five sets of directions later I found it and bought a working phone.
I then left the mall and waited for a tro-tro to take me back to school. During more trafficky times, the tro-tro change their route. Not knowing this, I begin to realize on the tro-tro that it was not taking hte normal route to school. We were suddenly driving on a pot-holed dirt road in the middle of corn fields. Thinking I had made yet another mistake in Ghana I planned on getting off at the next stop and starting over. To my surprise, the next stop was just across the street from campus. Success.
Confusion: Each day, registration becomes more and more complicated. Looks like a have to refigure my schedule yet again. Classes that I am not going to sacrifice: Botany 419 Advanced Taxonomy, Botany 411 Fungi and Lichen, Geography 429 Environmental Ecology, Study of Religion 423 Ecological Ethics, Music 317: Intro to West and Central African Music.
Classes are supposed to start tomorrow. I'll bet on next week...Ghana time.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
registration
day 19.
I miss telebears. To register for classes at the University of Ghana, you must first look through the course catalog. All classes with odd numbers are offered in Fall (they say). Then you have to have passport photos taken because you have to submit one (they say) to each department you would like to take a class in. Next you have to walk around to each department to see which classes are actually offered. Due to lack of professors, many are canceled. Once you see which classes are offered you have to register with the department, even though the days and times when the classes are offered is not available yet. To register with a department you need to fill out a minimum of one form, maximum of eight, and turn in a passport photo. Sounds easy enough, however, the forms that you need to fill out are often located in two or more places that must be seeked out. My botany registration experience: went there at 1:15, they were still on lunch, came back at two, told to go to chemistry department to get another form, went to chemistry filled out a form to get the form, filled out that form brought it back to botany, filled out six more forms which required 3 passport photos, told to come back in one hour to bring a form back to the chemistry department, came back in one hour 15 minutes and they were closed. More to look forward to tomorrow.
On other notes: It rained again today, but the rain here is never more than a drizzle (at least that is all we have experienced) and it happens periodically throughout the day. I washed some of my clothes for the first time today. It was actually really fun, but I don't know if the clothes will ever dry in this weather. Today I tried to upload photos but with such a slow internet connection I think it might take all day. I am starting to feel at home here in a lot of ways but I also never really knew what homesickness was until I got here.
I miss telebears. To register for classes at the University of Ghana, you must first look through the course catalog. All classes with odd numbers are offered in Fall (they say). Then you have to have passport photos taken because you have to submit one (they say) to each department you would like to take a class in. Next you have to walk around to each department to see which classes are actually offered. Due to lack of professors, many are canceled. Once you see which classes are offered you have to register with the department, even though the days and times when the classes are offered is not available yet. To register with a department you need to fill out a minimum of one form, maximum of eight, and turn in a passport photo. Sounds easy enough, however, the forms that you need to fill out are often located in two or more places that must be seeked out. My botany registration experience: went there at 1:15, they were still on lunch, came back at two, told to go to chemistry department to get another form, went to chemistry filled out a form to get the form, filled out that form brought it back to botany, filled out six more forms which required 3 passport photos, told to come back in one hour to bring a form back to the chemistry department, came back in one hour 15 minutes and they were closed. More to look forward to tomorrow.
On other notes: It rained again today, but the rain here is never more than a drizzle (at least that is all we have experienced) and it happens periodically throughout the day. I washed some of my clothes for the first time today. It was actually really fun, but I don't know if the clothes will ever dry in this weather. Today I tried to upload photos but with such a slow internet connection I think it might take all day. I am starting to feel at home here in a lot of ways but I also never really knew what homesickness was until I got here.
Monday, August 10, 2009
travels, tro-tros, the most beautiful beach
day 16.
On Friday, we went to Kakum National Park and the Elmina Castle with our entire EAP group.
At Kakum, we went on the canopy walk where we were dozens of feet (120ft at the hightest point) up in the air walking on a rope bridge overlooking the rainforest. The trees in Kakum were marked with scientific names (finally some botanizing!) and were like nothing I had ever seen. The whole forest was covered in vines and the many roots were exposed and snaking across the forest floor. On the rope bridge, we could see what looked like endless rainforest in every direction. It was an overcast day (as all but today have been so far) which created a light mist over everything and made it that much more exquisite, though I imagine a sunny day would be spectacular too.
From Kakum, we went to the Elmina Castle (or St.George Castle). It was the largest of the slave castles in West Africa and while it was used for that purpose 12-14 million slaves passed through it on their way to the U.S. We went on a guided tour of the castle where we learned about it's history and walked though most of the rooms. At one point the guide locked half of our group in a tiny room that had a skull and crossbones over the door. This was the room where slaves that had misbehaved (resisted rape by the governor, refused to do as told, etc) would be put. They would be kept in there until the last one had died and then every one of them would be taken out and thrown into the ocean. The room was completely dark and eerily silent.
We left the castle and the bus dropped those of us who wanted to travel for the weekend off at a tro-tro station. Matt, Matt (who we call Sauce), Travis, Carmen, and I had a plan. We wanted to make it to Nzulezo, the stilt village 30 minutes from the Cote d'Ivoire border. We wanted to make it as far as we could the first night so we boarded a tro-tro to Takoradi. It was going to be dark in about 45 minutes and the mate told us it would only take 25 minutes so we figured it would be fine. This is how we accidentally took our first tro-tro ride at night (sorry Mom, won't do it again, believe me). Let me say a few words about tro-tros: no seatbelts, always broken speedometers, 15-20 people, no a/c, speedbumps mean speed up, double lines in the road are just decoration as passing happens almost constantly, drivers slow down for nothing but police so honks are used to alert other cars, pedestrians (children too), bikers, goats and chickens...despite all of that they are actually good drivers as we have hit nothing or crashed yet. It is frightening during the day and so much worse at night. I have found that sleeping is the best option or else I am constanly gasping at all of the close calls. We luckily survived the hour and 20 minute ride and make it to Takoradi where we stayed in a cheap hotel.
The next day we boarded another tro-tro early in the morning and make the 4 hour trek to Beyin. In Beyin we had to wait a few hours for our canoe to be ready to take to the stilt village so we played cards and watched the local children climb coconut trees. Soon enough the canoe was ready and the five of us along with the guide and his mate made the 1 hour canoe ride to the village, singing songs most of the way. The ride was incredible, we were surrounded by some of the last remaining wetlands in Ghana paddling our way to a 500 year-old village. The village is indescribable. About 500 people live there each family in their own house constructed of rafia trees. Each house is about 5 feet above the water and there is one main "road" that runs through the whole town. We stayed there for the night, they fed us dinner, we met the chief's son, and played cards with the locals. At 7 the next morning we took the canoe ride back to Beyin on our way to Busua, home of the nicest beach in Ghana.
After another long and frightful tro-tro ride, we made it to Busua where we checked into the cheapest hotel since we realized we were all almost out of money (though we did splurge and eat Ghanaian pancakes from Dan the Pancake Man for lunch). To conserve money, we spent the majority of the day on the beach: sunbathing, body surfing, and again making friends with the locals. It was the warmest ocean water I had ever been in and the most beautiful beach. We ate dinner for 1 cedi each and breakfast was a shared loaf of bread.
Somehow we made it back to Legon today all in one piece, without having showered in days, with no money, and with smiles on our faces. This was really our first "find your way home" experience and we made it successfully. Double high-five to us. Now it is back to the real world: registration for classes and meeting the new students. School starts in one week.
On Friday, we went to Kakum National Park and the Elmina Castle with our entire EAP group.
At Kakum, we went on the canopy walk where we were dozens of feet (120ft at the hightest point) up in the air walking on a rope bridge overlooking the rainforest. The trees in Kakum were marked with scientific names (finally some botanizing!) and were like nothing I had ever seen. The whole forest was covered in vines and the many roots were exposed and snaking across the forest floor. On the rope bridge, we could see what looked like endless rainforest in every direction. It was an overcast day (as all but today have been so far) which created a light mist over everything and made it that much more exquisite, though I imagine a sunny day would be spectacular too.
From Kakum, we went to the Elmina Castle (or St.George Castle). It was the largest of the slave castles in West Africa and while it was used for that purpose 12-14 million slaves passed through it on their way to the U.S. We went on a guided tour of the castle where we learned about it's history and walked though most of the rooms. At one point the guide locked half of our group in a tiny room that had a skull and crossbones over the door. This was the room where slaves that had misbehaved (resisted rape by the governor, refused to do as told, etc) would be put. They would be kept in there until the last one had died and then every one of them would be taken out and thrown into the ocean. The room was completely dark and eerily silent.
We left the castle and the bus dropped those of us who wanted to travel for the weekend off at a tro-tro station. Matt, Matt (who we call Sauce), Travis, Carmen, and I had a plan. We wanted to make it to Nzulezo, the stilt village 30 minutes from the Cote d'Ivoire border. We wanted to make it as far as we could the first night so we boarded a tro-tro to Takoradi. It was going to be dark in about 45 minutes and the mate told us it would only take 25 minutes so we figured it would be fine. This is how we accidentally took our first tro-tro ride at night (sorry Mom, won't do it again, believe me). Let me say a few words about tro-tros: no seatbelts, always broken speedometers, 15-20 people, no a/c, speedbumps mean speed up, double lines in the road are just decoration as passing happens almost constantly, drivers slow down for nothing but police so honks are used to alert other cars, pedestrians (children too), bikers, goats and chickens...despite all of that they are actually good drivers as we have hit nothing or crashed yet. It is frightening during the day and so much worse at night. I have found that sleeping is the best option or else I am constanly gasping at all of the close calls. We luckily survived the hour and 20 minute ride and make it to Takoradi where we stayed in a cheap hotel.
The next day we boarded another tro-tro early in the morning and make the 4 hour trek to Beyin. In Beyin we had to wait a few hours for our canoe to be ready to take to the stilt village so we played cards and watched the local children climb coconut trees. Soon enough the canoe was ready and the five of us along with the guide and his mate made the 1 hour canoe ride to the village, singing songs most of the way. The ride was incredible, we were surrounded by some of the last remaining wetlands in Ghana paddling our way to a 500 year-old village. The village is indescribable. About 500 people live there each family in their own house constructed of rafia trees. Each house is about 5 feet above the water and there is one main "road" that runs through the whole town. We stayed there for the night, they fed us dinner, we met the chief's son, and played cards with the locals. At 7 the next morning we took the canoe ride back to Beyin on our way to Busua, home of the nicest beach in Ghana.
After another long and frightful tro-tro ride, we made it to Busua where we checked into the cheapest hotel since we realized we were all almost out of money (though we did splurge and eat Ghanaian pancakes from Dan the Pancake Man for lunch). To conserve money, we spent the majority of the day on the beach: sunbathing, body surfing, and again making friends with the locals. It was the warmest ocean water I had ever been in and the most beautiful beach. We ate dinner for 1 cedi each and breakfast was a shared loaf of bread.
Somehow we made it back to Legon today all in one piece, without having showered in days, with no money, and with smiles on our faces. This was really our first "find your way home" experience and we made it successfully. Double high-five to us. Now it is back to the real world: registration for classes and meeting the new students. School starts in one week.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Hurry Up and Wait!
We spent last weekend in Kumasi. The drive was incredible, solid lush vegetation for hours. Kumasi is a lot like Accra: tons of people, advertising, trash, cars, tro-tros, vendors, and dust. We went to a craft village and got to see Kente cloth (look it up, it is quite amazing) being made and we me the "master weaver". I bought an old cloth that the guy selling it to me said his grandfather had made (probably not true, but I'm going to believe it anyway). We did a lot of bargaining for the first time and I am getting better at it however, sometimes it seems a bit silly since we are haggling over 70 cents usually.
My biggest frustration so far is the phenomenon we are calling "hurry up! and wait". There are days when we have to get up so early to do something and when we get there there is a lot of commotion to get things straightened out and then we end up waiting for hours. It's a definite patience test (patience my friend, patience). I still do not have a cell phone and haven't uploaded any pictures. Everything just takes longer here and things keep getting pushed back. I am trying to not let it get to me because I want to enjoy each day.
Tomorrow we are going to Kakum National Park near Cape Coast. We have the option to stay and travel for a few days after that and I think most of us are going to. We may return on Sunday or a week from today, who is to say? We're just going to see where our travels take us.
My biggest frustration so far is the phenomenon we are calling "hurry up! and wait". There are days when we have to get up so early to do something and when we get there there is a lot of commotion to get things straightened out and then we end up waiting for hours. It's a definite patience test (patience my friend, patience). I still do not have a cell phone and haven't uploaded any pictures. Everything just takes longer here and things keep getting pushed back. I am trying to not let it get to me because I want to enjoy each day.
Tomorrow we are going to Kakum National Park near Cape Coast. We have the option to stay and travel for a few days after that and I think most of us are going to. We may return on Sunday or a week from today, who is to say? We're just going to see where our travels take us.
Friday, July 31, 2009
find your way home
Yesterday on our schedule from 1:30-5:00 is said "find your way home/shopping". None of us really knew what it meant but we soon found out. We were escorted to the market by the student guides in the afternoon and were supposed to find our way home afterward. Luckily the guides ended up staying with us the whole time (maybe they didn't think we could do it ourselves?).
The market we went to was called Medina Market. I wish I could show you all a video of walking through it because I feel like it is too hard to describe in words, but I will try: crowded, people, hot, trash, food, fabric, music, honking, sewage, people, flies, fish, balancing, buying, selling, bargaining, noisy, hectic, confusing, exciting, and foreign. The aisles of the market are very small and people are traveling both ways on them with no logic. It is amazing to me how the women can balance really heavy things on their heads flawlessly while walking through the crowd. There are children all around yelling "Obruni" which means white person, but here that is a friendly term. I made a mistake and left the house without water and almost fainted from hunger, dehydration, and sensory overload. The women at the fabric stand were very friendly and gave me water and a place to sit until I felt better. They said I looked white as a sheet. That's the last time I forget water.
I made another mistake as well. You are never supposed to greet people, take something from them, or give something to them with your left hand. A man walking past wanted to shake my hand but my camera was in my right so I shook with my left. He took his hand back and started shouting "Why? Why did you do that?". I apologized, shook with my right and kept walking, feeling terrible. From now on I am going to clench my left hand so I won't be tempted to use it.
After the market we took a tro-tro to the Accra Mall. Tro-tros are equivalent to mini vans but they seat 15 people, I'm sure you can imagine how crowded that is. The driver was very friendly and no one mentioned that the speedometer didn't work so the first tro-tro trip was a success. It was crazy to go from Medina Market to the Accra Mall because it was the starkest contrast I have ever experienced. The mall had a Nike store, a Puma store, cosmetic stores, a food court, cell phone stores, and so much more. It easily could have been anywhere in America. It really was telling of how much more intense the difference between rural and urban and high class and middle class is. I have so much to learn.
Today I stayed in bed all day for feeling sick, much worse than yesterday. It is no fun to be sick in an unfamiliar place. But everyone here is really thoughtful and helpful. I still am having stomach pains, but I hope it will be better tomorrow because we are going to a funeral then have a five hour bus ride to Kumasi.
Until Monday...
The market we went to was called Medina Market. I wish I could show you all a video of walking through it because I feel like it is too hard to describe in words, but I will try: crowded, people, hot, trash, food, fabric, music, honking, sewage, people, flies, fish, balancing, buying, selling, bargaining, noisy, hectic, confusing, exciting, and foreign. The aisles of the market are very small and people are traveling both ways on them with no logic. It is amazing to me how the women can balance really heavy things on their heads flawlessly while walking through the crowd. There are children all around yelling "Obruni" which means white person, but here that is a friendly term. I made a mistake and left the house without water and almost fainted from hunger, dehydration, and sensory overload. The women at the fabric stand were very friendly and gave me water and a place to sit until I felt better. They said I looked white as a sheet. That's the last time I forget water.
I made another mistake as well. You are never supposed to greet people, take something from them, or give something to them with your left hand. A man walking past wanted to shake my hand but my camera was in my right so I shook with my left. He took his hand back and started shouting "Why? Why did you do that?". I apologized, shook with my right and kept walking, feeling terrible. From now on I am going to clench my left hand so I won't be tempted to use it.
After the market we took a tro-tro to the Accra Mall. Tro-tros are equivalent to mini vans but they seat 15 people, I'm sure you can imagine how crowded that is. The driver was very friendly and no one mentioned that the speedometer didn't work so the first tro-tro trip was a success. It was crazy to go from Medina Market to the Accra Mall because it was the starkest contrast I have ever experienced. The mall had a Nike store, a Puma store, cosmetic stores, a food court, cell phone stores, and so much more. It easily could have been anywhere in America. It really was telling of how much more intense the difference between rural and urban and high class and middle class is. I have so much to learn.
Today I stayed in bed all day for feeling sick, much worse than yesterday. It is no fun to be sick in an unfamiliar place. But everyone here is really thoughtful and helpful. I still am having stomach pains, but I hope it will be better tomorrow because we are going to a funeral then have a five hour bus ride to Kumasi.
Until Monday...
Thursday, July 30, 2009
12pm in Ghana, 5am in California
day five.
We are all so tired. Yesterday was the first time someone went to the hospital. Brendon couldn't get out of bed. At the hospital they said it is too soon to tell if he has malaria. Last night Matt knocked on our door at 3 am because Travis was throwing up and needed water, we gave him the bottle and a half we had in our room. This morning he was feeling better but didn't get up for breakfast or morning lecture. Today I felt stomach achy but I drank three bottle of water and feel much better now. So far I only have one bite. I think it is a spider bite (surely not poisonous) though because it is a bit swollen. There are mosquitoes around but not nearly as many as I thought there would be.
For the most part we are all happy and healthy but each day we are realizing more and more what the challenges are going to be of living here. However, everyday I look around and see smiling faces and meet helpful people who remind me of the reason I am here.
Tomorrow we move in to our permanent rooms (which will be great since I really don't like living out of a suitcase) and this weekend we go to Kumasi, the second largest city in Ghana. It's crazy because we feel like we have seen so much but really we still have so much to see. More adventures to come.
We are all so tired. Yesterday was the first time someone went to the hospital. Brendon couldn't get out of bed. At the hospital they said it is too soon to tell if he has malaria. Last night Matt knocked on our door at 3 am because Travis was throwing up and needed water, we gave him the bottle and a half we had in our room. This morning he was feeling better but didn't get up for breakfast or morning lecture. Today I felt stomach achy but I drank three bottle of water and feel much better now. So far I only have one bite. I think it is a spider bite (surely not poisonous) though because it is a bit swollen. There are mosquitoes around but not nearly as many as I thought there would be.
For the most part we are all happy and healthy but each day we are realizing more and more what the challenges are going to be of living here. However, everyday I look around and see smiling faces and meet helpful people who remind me of the reason I am here.
Tomorrow we move in to our permanent rooms (which will be great since I really don't like living out of a suitcase) and this weekend we go to Kumasi, the second largest city in Ghana. It's crazy because we feel like we have seen so much but really we still have so much to see. More adventures to come.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
day four
Everyday we wake up for breakfast at 6:30am and we have lectures, classes, meals, and activities until 9pm. There is hardly a minute to think about anything else.
Tomorrow we have five hours to ourselves in Accra where the objective is that the guides help us get on the right tro tro then find our way home...practice (or training). Today we toured Accra in a University of Ghana sports complex tour bus (that has extra seats instead of a regular sized aisle). It was unbelieveable for so many reasons. We saw everything from the dirtiest slums to the most expensive homes in Ghana to the US Embassy. We can't wait to go back.
It is 11:14pm now and after this long of a day it is time for bed (...maybe a roound of catchphrase first!).
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
1 GH cedi per hour
We arrived in Ghana safely on Sunday at noon and it feels like we have been here for weeks. The campus is beautiful with trees everywhere and so many buildings (most of which are dorms to lodge the 30-40,000 students). There are six Ghanaian student guides that are really helpful, they eat meals with us and go to all of the activites. Speaking of meals, at each meal they are introducing us to new Ghanaian foods. So far we have had friend plantains, red-red (a bean and cassava dish), porrige and stew (a really good spicy eggplant dish with other stuff in it). There is also a special tomato sauce that we always eat with rice, and there is usually pineapple for dessert, the sweetest most amazing pineapple I have ever tasted. There are also a ton of markets and stores around campus where we can buy fresh fruit, fried plantains, sodas, crackers, candy, and other things. We met a woman yesterday names Louisa who is called "the muffin lady" (Andrew, I'm sure you would love her), she tries to get us to come to where she sits with her wicker basket selling banana bread, mango pie, and strawberry cookies by saying "come, come, my desserts are so tantalizing!".
We are all staying together for the first few weeks in Volta Hall, the girls dorm...which looks like a tropical paradise. It is the end of the rainy season right now, so we got some rain today and it has been overcast since we've been here (but I'm wearing sunscreen anyway).
We have orientation for the first three weeks in which we get to know the local area and we go on a few field trips. So far we have heard many lectures on topics that will be useful to us (Ghana history, land and people, safety, health, music). Last night we had a dance class with the professor who teaches the dance classes here. It was so much fun and funny! We have another class tonight (for which we are supposed to have practiced).
Right now I am in an internet cafe in Legon Hall where it cost one Ghanaian cedi per hour to use a computer (one of the dorms on campus). There seems to be not many places that have wireless so I won't be able to upload pictures as often as I'd hoped but I will as soon as I can. The electricity in the room takes a minute to turn on and the water in the bathroom goes out everyday. I took a bucket shower last night and plan on having to do that often, but hey, it definitely saves water!
I have a million more things to say but I'll leave you all with this. As we walk around here on the red dirt, we occassionaly encounter a smell that is so fruitful and indescribable. We have yet to find out what the smell is but I'm sure I will always remember it as the smell of Ghana.
We are all staying together for the first few weeks in Volta Hall, the girls dorm...which looks like a tropical paradise. It is the end of the rainy season right now, so we got some rain today and it has been overcast since we've been here (but I'm wearing sunscreen anyway).
We have orientation for the first three weeks in which we get to know the local area and we go on a few field trips. So far we have heard many lectures on topics that will be useful to us (Ghana history, land and people, safety, health, music). Last night we had a dance class with the professor who teaches the dance classes here. It was so much fun and funny! We have another class tonight (for which we are supposed to have practiced).
Right now I am in an internet cafe in Legon Hall where it cost one Ghanaian cedi per hour to use a computer (one of the dorms on campus). There seems to be not many places that have wireless so I won't be able to upload pictures as often as I'd hoped but I will as soon as I can. The electricity in the room takes a minute to turn on and the water in the bathroom goes out everyday. I took a bucket shower last night and plan on having to do that often, but hey, it definitely saves water!
I have a million more things to say but I'll leave you all with this. As we walk around here on the red dirt, we occassionaly encounter a smell that is so fruitful and indescribable. We have yet to find out what the smell is but I'm sure I will always remember it as the smell of Ghana.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
98 degrees at 6:30 in the morning
We made it to Dubai. It's hot.
We are all gathered together on the floor of the airport right now waiting for our flight to Ghana. There is wireless so everyone has their laptops out (we definitely stand out, I guess it's time to get used to that).
There are about 60 of us from all the UCs and a few from CSUs. Everything is going really well so far...time to board!
We are all gathered together on the floor of the airport right now waiting for our flight to Ghana. There is wireless so everyone has their laptops out (we definitely stand out, I guess it's time to get used to that).
There are about 60 of us from all the UCs and a few from CSUs. Everything is going really well so far...time to board!
Friday, July 24, 2009
fitting my life into 46 kgs.
Packing.
I leave for Ghana in fifteen hours and I cannot seem to make everything I will need fit into the weight limit. Sure, some of the things I am bringing are not essential (catchphrase, the complete Lewis Carroll, four family size bags of peanut butter m&ms, an aerobie flyer, and my iPod speakers, among others) but six months is a long time and I want to be prepared (I'm not sure what those things prepare me for, but whatever it is, I'll be ready). If I only had to ditch one thing to make weight that'd be one thing but I am at the point where I feel like I need to unpack everything and start over from scratch. I am trying really hard to think objectively and I'm sure that most of you could set me straight and tell me "Lucy, you don't need three mad libs books, how about one?". But at this time and after a really long day, I can't decide whether the one I should bring is "mad libs from outer space," "slam dunk mad libs," or "grab bag mad libs".
I am strongly wishing that I hadn't waited until the last minute to finish packing but the last few days I spent with my favorite people were well worth my current stress, and hey, the worst that can happen is I pay the $100 overweight fee, or ditch the non-essentials and say goodbye to my catchphrase-alice in wonderland-peanut butter-flying dance party.
Ghana here I come.
post script: please note that I am avoiding writing down my thoughts and feelings about being gone for so long...it's because it doesn't seem real yet. when it hits me, you will know.
I leave for Ghana in fifteen hours and I cannot seem to make everything I will need fit into the weight limit. Sure, some of the things I am bringing are not essential (catchphrase, the complete Lewis Carroll, four family size bags of peanut butter m&ms, an aerobie flyer, and my iPod speakers, among others) but six months is a long time and I want to be prepared (I'm not sure what those things prepare me for, but whatever it is, I'll be ready). If I only had to ditch one thing to make weight that'd be one thing but I am at the point where I feel like I need to unpack everything and start over from scratch. I am trying really hard to think objectively and I'm sure that most of you could set me straight and tell me "Lucy, you don't need three mad libs books, how about one?". But at this time and after a really long day, I can't decide whether the one I should bring is "mad libs from outer space," "slam dunk mad libs," or "grab bag mad libs".
I am strongly wishing that I hadn't waited until the last minute to finish packing but the last few days I spent with my favorite people were well worth my current stress, and hey, the worst that can happen is I pay the $100 overweight fee, or ditch the non-essentials and say goodbye to my catchphrase-alice in wonderland-peanut butter-flying dance party.
Ghana here I come.
post script: please note that I am avoiding writing down my thoughts and feelings about being gone for so long...it's because it doesn't seem real yet. when it hits me, you will know.
Friday, July 10, 2009
leaving in a fortnight
Two weeks from now I will be hundreds of feet above the ground on an Emirates Airlines Boeing 777. Twelve-thousand miles and two days later, I will land in Accra, Ghana.
Ghana:
geographic coordinates: 5 33 N, 0 13 W (closest country to the center of the world)
idependence: March 6, 1957 (from the UK)
population: 23,832,495 (I like people)
GDP per capita: $1,500 (compared to $48,000 in the US)
coldest ever: 64 degrees F (perfect amount of cold)
warmest ever: 102 degrees F (it gets hotter than this in California)
I will return in 15,120,000 heartbeats. 70 heartbeats per minute.
Ghana:
geographic coordinates: 5 33 N, 0 13 W (closest country to the center of the world)
idependence: March 6, 1957 (from the UK)
population: 23,832,495 (I like people)
GDP per capita: $1,500 (compared to $48,000 in the US)
coldest ever: 64 degrees F (perfect amount of cold)
warmest ever: 102 degrees F (it gets hotter than this in California)
I will return in 15,120,000 heartbeats. 70 heartbeats per minute.
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