This will be my last post from Ghana. Tomorrow I am taking (or hoping to take) a 7AM coach bus to Accra, where I will check into a bed-and-breakfast hotel. I will spend the day/night there and charter a taxi to the airport around 6:30AM on Saturday. My flight is scheduled to depart at 9:55AM, and I am not going to miss it for the world. If all goes according to plan, I will be in DC by 10:45 on Saturday night! I'll just share two more experiences before I quit for the day.
I felt poorly earlier this week and thought I would get a malaria test, just in case. I went to a medical laboratory close to ProGhana. No one was waiting, so I was admitted to the attendant right away. He pricked my finger (without wearing medical gloves), smeared my blood on a slide, and sent me out to wait. After about 20 minutes, I was handed a slip of paper with the results: negative. The entire thing was done in less than half an hour and cost only 2 cedis. I think the US could learn something here...
I had one last bad experience to send me off, unfortunately. I got into a cab yesterday, and the man in the middle seat leaned over to fiddle with the window/lock. I thought nothing of it. I now realize that he had locked my door so when I tried to get out at my stop, I couldn't. He then pretended to help me open the door without unlocking it. While he "struggled", the people in the front reached back to help as well. In all the commotion, I believe the instigator slipped his fingers into my bag and stole 60 cedis that were supposed to pay for my transportation for January, because I had it when I got in the cab but not when I got home. Moral of the story is that while many Ghanaians are genuinely just trying to help you, you cannot let your guard down because there are thieves in every country who will take advantage of you!
I hope you have all enjoyed the chronicles of my time in Ghana. I am going to save final thoughts and reflections on my experience for when I am home and have had time to digest everything.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me. Despite all the challenges and frustrations, every minute has been worth the struggle.
Goodbye, Ghana!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
10:53AM, on a Tuesday
*This entry was written on Tuesday, January 12, but due to technical difficulties it is being posted today.
I can't believe I will be in America in just a few days! This has been an amazing, eye-opening, invaluable experience...but I do feel ready to get back to the comforts of home (and start making money, as I am completely broke now).
On Saturday, Sarah and I met at 7:30 to begin our trip out to Nzulezo, the stilt village. We took a tro-tro from Cape Coast to Takoradi, which took an hour and a half because of traffic. Then we made our way to another tro-tro which went straight from Takoradi to Beyin, where the canoes launch. Unfortunately we waited almost two hours for that tro-tro to fill and spent another two hours careening over potholes and speedbumps at a frightening clip. Finally we reached Beyin, paid our fees to the Ghana Wildlife Society (7 cedis for volunteers, 1.5 cedis per camera to be used), and got into our canoes. The boatride to the village was beautiful. Because it's the dry season, the water is too shallow in many points to paddle; instead, the guides use poles to push the canoe along like gondoliers. We traveled along one waterway, which opened onto a small lake, then along another waterway which finally deposited us onto the main lake. We paddled across to the stilt village.
The history as told to us by our guides was that the original settlers came from Mali, where they were attacked relentlessly, in the 1400s. After so many displacements due to these attacks, the people decided God was telling them never to settle on land. Instead, they migrated until they found this particular lake and built the village on stilts. It is made mostly of bamboo and raffia, with some wooden planks forming the main walkway between houses. They have their own churches (4), schools, stores, medicine, etc. Anytime they want to go somewhere, they have to paddle in dugout canoes and back. The population is somewhere between 400 and 500 people. The only power comes from car batteries. They have one speedboat for emergency use only; because the surrounding area of the Amansuri Wetlands is protected, motorboats are generally forbidden because of the pollution they cause. Most of their money comes from farming nearby lands, but they also fish some.
Unfortunately, our trip was somewhat clouded by intense pressure to donate to the chief and to tip the boatmen. Considering we already paid 8.25 each just to get there and take some pictures (not of the people, they don't like it), I was a bit turned off by these inducements.
Getting back to Cape Coast was incredibly difficult. We were instructed to take a tro-tro to a certain village, get off, and wait for another that would take us straight to Takoradi. As soon as we disembarked and the bus drove off, we were told that there would be no more tro-tros to Takoradi that day. So we hired a private car to take us 20 minutes to another village, where there was a bus to Takoradi waiting. Between traffic and the constant stopping to let passengers on and off, the ride took almost 3 hours. Once we got to Takoradi, we had to wait another hour for a tro-tro to Cape Coast, which took almost 2 hours because of the numerous stops we made. I finally got back to my house around 10:30PM. LONG DAY!
Pictures to follow; because you are required to pay per camera, we only paid for Sarah's -- so she has all the pictures at the moment.
The next day I somehow found the energy to be ready at 7:30 for Lawrence to pick me up. We retrieved a group that is here with ProGhana on an alternative winter break trip (11 students and 3 chaperones) and made our way to Kakum National Park, 45 minutes away, where we did the canopy walk and an educational forest walk. The canopy walk is a series of bridges made from wood and rope, suspended at the canopy level of the forest. The forest walk was guided by a park official who spoke about the uses of various trees. Pictures follow:
These signs are pretty common...
Tree urinal?
View of Kakum.
An elephant's skull; the tusks are fake (they had been taken by the time the skull was discovered).
The park entrance.
Some bamboo.
Twisty vines.
The canopy walkway from under.
More pictures of the walkway and platforms.
Views from the walkway.
Spider web with lots of prey.
This tree is a parasite tree; it grows on top of another and eventually takes over.
The wood of this tree is black ebony and was/is used for piano keys (it is now protected).
This tree is very soft when young, so it grows thorns at the approximate height of forest elephants to discourage them from leaning on it and breaking it. Evolution is amazing!
Termite mound (ew).
After Kakum, we went to a monkey sanctuary run by this vivacious Dutch lady and her husband. After the husband's trip to Ghana 6 or 7 years ago, he announced he was moving there to start an animal sanctuary and his wife agreed. They have not been back to Holland since!
Most of their animals are brought to them by hunters as babies. Normally, the hunters take the adults and leave the babies to die in the forest. The sanctuary proprietors pay them a bit of money to bring the babies to them instead. Currently, they have 11 monkeys, a bunch of crocodiles, a duiker, some small jungle cats, mongooses (mongeese?) and tortoises, all pictured below. They are also building a small cafe at the top of a hill with spectacular views in every direction. I think they would make a great reality show: www.monkeyforestresort.com.
Monkeys!
Cats!
Crocs!
Tortoises!
Bird nests!
Snake! I found out that Ghanaians are very afraid of/superstitious about snakes. My host mother wouldn't even look at this picture when I showed her!
Snail!
The small stools pictured here are made to catch dwarfs. Ghanaians believe that dwarfs live in the forest. They kidnap unsuspecting people and drag them into the forest, usually never to be seen again. If someone does make it back, they take with them all the knowledge of the dwarfs about nature and medicine, and they become powerful fetish priests. So, they are trying to attract the dwarfs with the small chairs, which will have glue spread on the seat to catch the creatures.
They really are Dutch -- wooden shoes!
The Dutch lady (in the middle).
After the monkey sanctuary, we went to Hans Cottage Botel which features a small lake, on which is built a restaurant and a gift shop. There is at least one live, adult crocodile living in the lake, of which I got a blurry picture:
We had lunch there and moved on to Cape Coast Castle. It was very similar to Elmina, but more features have been altered; I think I enjoyed Elmina far more. Anyway, here are some picture of the castle and views of the town and fishing boats:
Needless to say, it was a busy weekend. I am still exhausted since the power was out from 11PM to 8AM last night/this morning, and I could hardly sleep for sweating without the fan. In addition, the neighborhood dogs decided to join in a half-hour concert of howling and barking at 2:30AM this morning, and some drunks had a screaming match in the street outside my house immediately after. I can't deny I am looking forward to the quiet of my suburban apartment in Virginia...
I'll stop here, as this post is quite long enough. I'll try to write one more time before I leave for Accra on Friday!
I can't believe I will be in America in just a few days! This has been an amazing, eye-opening, invaluable experience...but I do feel ready to get back to the comforts of home (and start making money, as I am completely broke now).
On Saturday, Sarah and I met at 7:30 to begin our trip out to Nzulezo, the stilt village. We took a tro-tro from Cape Coast to Takoradi, which took an hour and a half because of traffic. Then we made our way to another tro-tro which went straight from Takoradi to Beyin, where the canoes launch. Unfortunately we waited almost two hours for that tro-tro to fill and spent another two hours careening over potholes and speedbumps at a frightening clip. Finally we reached Beyin, paid our fees to the Ghana Wildlife Society (7 cedis for volunteers, 1.5 cedis per camera to be used), and got into our canoes. The boatride to the village was beautiful. Because it's the dry season, the water is too shallow in many points to paddle; instead, the guides use poles to push the canoe along like gondoliers. We traveled along one waterway, which opened onto a small lake, then along another waterway which finally deposited us onto the main lake. We paddled across to the stilt village.
The history as told to us by our guides was that the original settlers came from Mali, where they were attacked relentlessly, in the 1400s. After so many displacements due to these attacks, the people decided God was telling them never to settle on land. Instead, they migrated until they found this particular lake and built the village on stilts. It is made mostly of bamboo and raffia, with some wooden planks forming the main walkway between houses. They have their own churches (4), schools, stores, medicine, etc. Anytime they want to go somewhere, they have to paddle in dugout canoes and back. The population is somewhere between 400 and 500 people. The only power comes from car batteries. They have one speedboat for emergency use only; because the surrounding area of the Amansuri Wetlands is protected, motorboats are generally forbidden because of the pollution they cause. Most of their money comes from farming nearby lands, but they also fish some.
Unfortunately, our trip was somewhat clouded by intense pressure to donate to the chief and to tip the boatmen. Considering we already paid 8.25 each just to get there and take some pictures (not of the people, they don't like it), I was a bit turned off by these inducements.
Getting back to Cape Coast was incredibly difficult. We were instructed to take a tro-tro to a certain village, get off, and wait for another that would take us straight to Takoradi. As soon as we disembarked and the bus drove off, we were told that there would be no more tro-tros to Takoradi that day. So we hired a private car to take us 20 minutes to another village, where there was a bus to Takoradi waiting. Between traffic and the constant stopping to let passengers on and off, the ride took almost 3 hours. Once we got to Takoradi, we had to wait another hour for a tro-tro to Cape Coast, which took almost 2 hours because of the numerous stops we made. I finally got back to my house around 10:30PM. LONG DAY!
Pictures to follow; because you are required to pay per camera, we only paid for Sarah's -- so she has all the pictures at the moment.
The next day I somehow found the energy to be ready at 7:30 for Lawrence to pick me up. We retrieved a group that is here with ProGhana on an alternative winter break trip (11 students and 3 chaperones) and made our way to Kakum National Park, 45 minutes away, where we did the canopy walk and an educational forest walk. The canopy walk is a series of bridges made from wood and rope, suspended at the canopy level of the forest. The forest walk was guided by a park official who spoke about the uses of various trees. Pictures follow:
These signs are pretty common...
Tree urinal?
View of Kakum.
An elephant's skull; the tusks are fake (they had been taken by the time the skull was discovered).
The park entrance.
Some bamboo.
Twisty vines.
The canopy walkway from under.
More pictures of the walkway and platforms.
Views from the walkway.
Spider web with lots of prey.
This tree is a parasite tree; it grows on top of another and eventually takes over.
The wood of this tree is black ebony and was/is used for piano keys (it is now protected).
This tree is very soft when young, so it grows thorns at the approximate height of forest elephants to discourage them from leaning on it and breaking it. Evolution is amazing!
Termite mound (ew).
After Kakum, we went to a monkey sanctuary run by this vivacious Dutch lady and her husband. After the husband's trip to Ghana 6 or 7 years ago, he announced he was moving there to start an animal sanctuary and his wife agreed. They have not been back to Holland since!
Most of their animals are brought to them by hunters as babies. Normally, the hunters take the adults and leave the babies to die in the forest. The sanctuary proprietors pay them a bit of money to bring the babies to them instead. Currently, they have 11 monkeys, a bunch of crocodiles, a duiker, some small jungle cats, mongooses (mongeese?) and tortoises, all pictured below. They are also building a small cafe at the top of a hill with spectacular views in every direction. I think they would make a great reality show: www.monkeyforestresort.com.
Monkeys!
Cats!
Crocs!
Tortoises!
Bird nests!
Snake! I found out that Ghanaians are very afraid of/superstitious about snakes. My host mother wouldn't even look at this picture when I showed her!
Snail!
The small stools pictured here are made to catch dwarfs. Ghanaians believe that dwarfs live in the forest. They kidnap unsuspecting people and drag them into the forest, usually never to be seen again. If someone does make it back, they take with them all the knowledge of the dwarfs about nature and medicine, and they become powerful fetish priests. So, they are trying to attract the dwarfs with the small chairs, which will have glue spread on the seat to catch the creatures.
They really are Dutch -- wooden shoes!
The Dutch lady (in the middle).
After the monkey sanctuary, we went to Hans Cottage Botel which features a small lake, on which is built a restaurant and a gift shop. There is at least one live, adult crocodile living in the lake, of which I got a blurry picture:
We had lunch there and moved on to Cape Coast Castle. It was very similar to Elmina, but more features have been altered; I think I enjoyed Elmina far more. Anyway, here are some picture of the castle and views of the town and fishing boats:
Needless to say, it was a busy weekend. I am still exhausted since the power was out from 11PM to 8AM last night/this morning, and I could hardly sleep for sweating without the fan. In addition, the neighborhood dogs decided to join in a half-hour concert of howling and barking at 2:30AM this morning, and some drunks had a screaming match in the street outside my house immediately after. I can't deny I am looking forward to the quiet of my suburban apartment in Virginia...
I'll stop here, as this post is quite long enough. I'll try to write one more time before I leave for Accra on Friday!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
5:52PM, on a Thursday
Now that I am down to my final two weeks, I’ve made a resolution to blog with the frequency and enthusiasm that I did in the beginning.
I had no plans for New Year’s Eve and thus was reading in bed when the church service started, 15 feet from my window. The building in which it was held is less than half finished; it is missing a roof and several walls, with iron rods and wiring still exposed. But the God-fearing people of Cape Coast don’t let a little thing like structural incompletion stop them from worshipping – which they did for FIVE HOURS. From 8:30PM to 1:30AM, my room literally vibrated with the sounds of their live band blaring through the speakers and their preacher screaming into the microphone. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled.
The next day, I went with Lawrence to the airport in Accra to pick up ProGhana’s new volunteer. We left at 4:30PM and arrived just after 7PM – and had two and a half hours to wait, as her plane was not scheduled to arrive until 9:30PM. So we had dinner and sat in the waiting area watching soccer. Finally just before 10PM, we began to see people filtering through the last stage of customs with bags in tow. We waited...and waited...and pretty soon the entire flight crew had passed and there were no more people. Plus almost everyone who had been waiting with us was still there, looking as confused as we felt. It turned out that the plane had been delayed by almost two hours in Amsterdam because some passengers had changed their minds and demanded to be allowed to disembark and be given their luggage. We learned this from Sarah when she finally got to us around 11:30PM. Then we had to drive the two hours back to Cape Coast! But I shouldn’t complain; the poor girl was coming from British Columbia and had been traveling for 30 hours by the time she hit Accra.
Anyway, Lawrence slept most of the way back and Sarah and I chatted. She will be working on economic development and women’s empowerment projects in the more rural areas surrounding Cape Coast. She is 23, graduated with an undergraduate degree in global studies and a minor in media, and wants to find some direction for her next steps. I’m very happy to have some company again. We went to Anamabo Beach on Sunday, my favorite spot in Ghana, and had a lovely time. Oh, and she has been reading my blog! Now that I know my writing can actually be useful, I have even more incentive to keep going with it.
On that note, I’m going to share some more miscellaneous cultural remarks that I haven’t touched on yet.
-Dress/Appearance: Ghanaian ladies generally wear skirts; the younger women sometimes wear jeans or other pants. You will very rarely see a woman in a skirt above the knee; it’s considered rather slutty and frowned upon. However, you can feel free to wear spaghetti-strap camisoles to your heart’s content. Ghanaian men keep their hair quite short, unless they are “Rasta,” the sort of counter-culture movement here. From what I understand, the connotations generally associated with Rastafarian are also attributed to this group, and they are looked at with disapproval, although they are perfectly nice people. Men also generally wear pants; shorts seem to be mostly reserved for boys and soccer players. Shoes are quite important; men wear dress shoes and women wear dressy sandals almost every time they leave the house.
-Manners: It is considered quite disrespectful to cross your legs in any formal setting (work meetings, church, fancy dinners, etc.) or in front of your elders (like when I go to visit Fred or Peggy’s parents). This also includes crossing your ankles. As I always wear a skirt here, I find it difficult to remember this. Also, it’s impolite to launch into any kind of conversation without the proper greetings of hello and how are you. This applies to any social situation from shopping to phone calls to restaurants, no matter how well you know the other person. Ghanaians will always start with a friendly greeting and asking how you are, and you are expected to do the same. Lastly, and I don’t know how universal this is, but the Ghanaians I have met do not volunteer their names when meeting for the first time. You are required to ask them their names, and I think they consider it rude if you don’t.
-Sanitation: Without coming off as offensive, I want to comment on this because I find it very, very different from what I am used to. Litter, as I mentioned, is everywhere. So are animal urine and feces since livestock roams freely. People spit left and right, and bathrooms are quite unnecessary for urination; any outdoor spot will do. I get the feeling that many people do not wash their hands after passing waste, which is especially disconcerting as they tend to eat exclusively with their hands. Food is left sitting out for hours without concern for hygienic storage or the consequent attraction of a multitude of insects. In short, I think people here simply have a very different concept of what is clean; they are obviously not the germaphobes that many Americans are.
-Children: The attitude towards children is a little confusing for me. The families I have met show nothing but love and kindness to their kids, but I have also seen children being physically abused quite openly on the street. From what I understand, the teachers’ use of physical punishment in the classroom is readily accepted, if not expected. I don’t know quite what to make of it. However, I love the way the women carry their babies. The baby is placed with its belly on the mother’s back and secured in place by a sheet wrapped around her torso. That was, the baby is nice and snug (which they like since it reminds them of being in the womb) and its body is in direct contact with the mother’s while she has her hands free.
That’s all for now. I should have lots more to write in the next couple of weeks as I am planning a visit to Kakum National Park, where they have a 40-meter-high canopy walk, and Nzulezo village, which is “one solid construction raised above the water, consisting of a central wood and raffia walkway with perhaps two dozen individual houses on either side,” according to the Bradt travel guide to Ghana. The only way to get to the village, the guide says, is by taking a canoe for one hour along a river that eventually joins the lake above which the village sits. They both sound awesome and are close enough to Cape Coast to make each into a daytrip.
I had no plans for New Year’s Eve and thus was reading in bed when the church service started, 15 feet from my window. The building in which it was held is less than half finished; it is missing a roof and several walls, with iron rods and wiring still exposed. But the God-fearing people of Cape Coast don’t let a little thing like structural incompletion stop them from worshipping – which they did for FIVE HOURS. From 8:30PM to 1:30AM, my room literally vibrated with the sounds of their live band blaring through the speakers and their preacher screaming into the microphone. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled.
The next day, I went with Lawrence to the airport in Accra to pick up ProGhana’s new volunteer. We left at 4:30PM and arrived just after 7PM – and had two and a half hours to wait, as her plane was not scheduled to arrive until 9:30PM. So we had dinner and sat in the waiting area watching soccer. Finally just before 10PM, we began to see people filtering through the last stage of customs with bags in tow. We waited...and waited...and pretty soon the entire flight crew had passed and there were no more people. Plus almost everyone who had been waiting with us was still there, looking as confused as we felt. It turned out that the plane had been delayed by almost two hours in Amsterdam because some passengers had changed their minds and demanded to be allowed to disembark and be given their luggage. We learned this from Sarah when she finally got to us around 11:30PM. Then we had to drive the two hours back to Cape Coast! But I shouldn’t complain; the poor girl was coming from British Columbia and had been traveling for 30 hours by the time she hit Accra.
Anyway, Lawrence slept most of the way back and Sarah and I chatted. She will be working on economic development and women’s empowerment projects in the more rural areas surrounding Cape Coast. She is 23, graduated with an undergraduate degree in global studies and a minor in media, and wants to find some direction for her next steps. I’m very happy to have some company again. We went to Anamabo Beach on Sunday, my favorite spot in Ghana, and had a lovely time. Oh, and she has been reading my blog! Now that I know my writing can actually be useful, I have even more incentive to keep going with it.
On that note, I’m going to share some more miscellaneous cultural remarks that I haven’t touched on yet.
-Dress/Appearance: Ghanaian ladies generally wear skirts; the younger women sometimes wear jeans or other pants. You will very rarely see a woman in a skirt above the knee; it’s considered rather slutty and frowned upon. However, you can feel free to wear spaghetti-strap camisoles to your heart’s content. Ghanaian men keep their hair quite short, unless they are “Rasta,” the sort of counter-culture movement here. From what I understand, the connotations generally associated with Rastafarian are also attributed to this group, and they are looked at with disapproval, although they are perfectly nice people. Men also generally wear pants; shorts seem to be mostly reserved for boys and soccer players. Shoes are quite important; men wear dress shoes and women wear dressy sandals almost every time they leave the house.
-Manners: It is considered quite disrespectful to cross your legs in any formal setting (work meetings, church, fancy dinners, etc.) or in front of your elders (like when I go to visit Fred or Peggy’s parents). This also includes crossing your ankles. As I always wear a skirt here, I find it difficult to remember this. Also, it’s impolite to launch into any kind of conversation without the proper greetings of hello and how are you. This applies to any social situation from shopping to phone calls to restaurants, no matter how well you know the other person. Ghanaians will always start with a friendly greeting and asking how you are, and you are expected to do the same. Lastly, and I don’t know how universal this is, but the Ghanaians I have met do not volunteer their names when meeting for the first time. You are required to ask them their names, and I think they consider it rude if you don’t.
-Sanitation: Without coming off as offensive, I want to comment on this because I find it very, very different from what I am used to. Litter, as I mentioned, is everywhere. So are animal urine and feces since livestock roams freely. People spit left and right, and bathrooms are quite unnecessary for urination; any outdoor spot will do. I get the feeling that many people do not wash their hands after passing waste, which is especially disconcerting as they tend to eat exclusively with their hands. Food is left sitting out for hours without concern for hygienic storage or the consequent attraction of a multitude of insects. In short, I think people here simply have a very different concept of what is clean; they are obviously not the germaphobes that many Americans are.
-Children: The attitude towards children is a little confusing for me. The families I have met show nothing but love and kindness to their kids, but I have also seen children being physically abused quite openly on the street. From what I understand, the teachers’ use of physical punishment in the classroom is readily accepted, if not expected. I don’t know quite what to make of it. However, I love the way the women carry their babies. The baby is placed with its belly on the mother’s back and secured in place by a sheet wrapped around her torso. That was, the baby is nice and snug (which they like since it reminds them of being in the womb) and its body is in direct contact with the mother’s while she has her hands free.
That’s all for now. I should have lots more to write in the next couple of weeks as I am planning a visit to Kakum National Park, where they have a 40-meter-high canopy walk, and Nzulezo village, which is “one solid construction raised above the water, consisting of a central wood and raffia walkway with perhaps two dozen individual houses on either side,” according to the Bradt travel guide to Ghana. The only way to get to the village, the guide says, is by taking a canoe for one hour along a river that eventually joins the lake above which the village sits. They both sound awesome and are close enough to Cape Coast to make each into a daytrip.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
5:18PM, on a Tuesday
I could lie to you about why I haven’t been blogging. I could say I’ve been busy with work and grad school applications. I could say the internet has been spotty. I could even say that I don’t have much worth writing about. All of these things are partially true, but the real reason is that I’ve turned into an addict. That’s right, I’m a total junkie. I just can’t stop! Someone needs to take away my stash before it’s too late. I’m addicted...to “Lost.” (The TV show, for those of you that haven’t flicked the idiot box on in a few years.) I never watched it while it was running, and some evil mastermind at ProGhana put seasons 1-5 in the office library. A couple of weeks ago, I made the mistake of borrowing the first disc. Since then, I could not put my laptop away. It’s a sickness, really. Thankfully, I have watched every single disc now so the madness is over.
Anyway, it’s true that I have been on the busy side. I have finished all of my surveys and based on the results, it seems that there are two problems with children’s protein intake. The first is that meat, the obvious source of protein, is far too expensive for many families. The second is that the mothers don’t seem to recognize other sources of protein. So the intervention I am designing is two-fold. The first part is the fortification of gari, a local cassava product that is cheap and ubiquitous but devoid of nutrients. Sympathy International owns gari processing equipment and actually used to run a production program as an income-generating activity for poor women, but the funds have dried up. Therefore, I not only have to work out the fortification system, but I also have to raise funds and rehire workers for the processing plant.
The second part is an advocacy campaign for better child nutrition. I am still designing this element, but I am working on incorporating facts and advice on protein supplementation on the gari packaging. I would also like to work with the schools to disseminate information to the parents. Something else must be done for the illiterate population; I am thinking of some kind of community ambassador program where we can train a small number of women about child nutrition and have them orally convey the information back to their family, friends, and neighbors. Of course, this all requires a good deal of money. I have identified a few foundations whose funding interests might align with such a program, and the rest of my time here will be spent creating grant proposals and calculating a master budget. Because of how long the grant processes can take, I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing happened for 6 months or more, but I plan to keep up with the project as best I can from the US. It would be so amazing to make this really happen.
JD, the baby in my homestay, came down with malaria last week. He was feverish, weak, and unwilling to eat. They took him to the hospital several times and came back with new medicines each time; it turned out that not only did he have malaria, he also had an eye infection, a sore in his mouth, and a new tooth coming in. Poor thing! He’s much better now, though he still has a cough and has started itching at his ear for some reason.
We missed the Christmas church service because of JD’s recuperation, but went on Sunday. It was three and a half hours long. One of the reasons was because everything was said in English, then immediately repeated in Fante. There was also a special collection having something to do with a cardinal (it was a Catholic church), a baptism, and a ritual for something they called Priest Appreciation Day. About 40 people processed up the aisle with gifts for the priest, ranging from envelopes stuffed with cash to a large crate of Cokes to a 12-pack of toilet paper. Because nothing says “I appreciate your religious instruction” like toilet paper...?
After the service, we went to my homestay father’s father’s house with the extended family; the party was probably around 20 people. I had a nice time, although I was sore from sitting on a hard wooden bench all morning. JD was very shy, with so many people he barely knew trying to hold him and talk to him. When his parents went inside to eat, he clung to me and cried when anyone else took him. I’ve discovered I feel the same way about babies as I do about dogs: I tend to like them on an individual basis, and I like them best when they belong to other people.
Things are even slower at work right now with so many holidays; apparently most business-people in Ghana take off two weeks for Christmas and Boxing Day and New Year’s. Boxing Day this year was funny because it fell on a Saturday, but was celebrated the following Monday so the Ghanaians wouldn’t be deprived of their hard-earned holiday! Another instance of their determination to enjoy life. Anyway I’ve been spending a lot of time working on a Fante handbook for future volunteers, which I presented to Lawrence today. He was incredibly pleased and told me he thinks we could sell it! I’m just happy that he feels his teaching has been worthwhile. I get the impression that not everyone is as interested in the intricacies of Fante grammar as I am.
I’m including pictures from a wedding to which my homestay family invited me. It was very interesting – especially because I’ve never even been to an American, or any other, wedding before! Both the wedding and the church service featured a live band with singers and a church choir. I think the singing and drumming and dancing (yes, dancing) help maintain the congregation's attentions for those long services!
Lastly, a shout-out to my brother David who just turned 26. Even though he won’t be reading this, Happy Birthday Dave! I love you.
The interior of the church, trimmed in purple for Advent.
Priest giving an opening speech on love and marriage.
A woman on her cellphone during the priest's opening speech.
The hats were spectacular: Western-style hats that would put the ladies at the Kentucky Derby to shame, and Ghanaian-style hats that looked as if they were made from wrapping paper.
The priest preparing the wafer and wine for communion.
The altar being blessed with incense.
The bride converted to Catholicism and took her first communion as part of the wedding ceremony. I gather this is not uncommon. Another note that my homestay mother told me: in Ghana, men "court" women up until the day of the wedding; they only get engaged on the morning of the blessed event.
The main duty of the maid of honor and best man were to mop the sweat from the brows of the happy couple.
Taking their vows.
I now pronounce you man and wife!
Sheep grazing in the front yard.
JD at the church and outside the house with his dad.
I couldn't resist: the live chicken in front of the ready-to-eat chicken!
Anyway, it’s true that I have been on the busy side. I have finished all of my surveys and based on the results, it seems that there are two problems with children’s protein intake. The first is that meat, the obvious source of protein, is far too expensive for many families. The second is that the mothers don’t seem to recognize other sources of protein. So the intervention I am designing is two-fold. The first part is the fortification of gari, a local cassava product that is cheap and ubiquitous but devoid of nutrients. Sympathy International owns gari processing equipment and actually used to run a production program as an income-generating activity for poor women, but the funds have dried up. Therefore, I not only have to work out the fortification system, but I also have to raise funds and rehire workers for the processing plant.
The second part is an advocacy campaign for better child nutrition. I am still designing this element, but I am working on incorporating facts and advice on protein supplementation on the gari packaging. I would also like to work with the schools to disseminate information to the parents. Something else must be done for the illiterate population; I am thinking of some kind of community ambassador program where we can train a small number of women about child nutrition and have them orally convey the information back to their family, friends, and neighbors. Of course, this all requires a good deal of money. I have identified a few foundations whose funding interests might align with such a program, and the rest of my time here will be spent creating grant proposals and calculating a master budget. Because of how long the grant processes can take, I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing happened for 6 months or more, but I plan to keep up with the project as best I can from the US. It would be so amazing to make this really happen.
JD, the baby in my homestay, came down with malaria last week. He was feverish, weak, and unwilling to eat. They took him to the hospital several times and came back with new medicines each time; it turned out that not only did he have malaria, he also had an eye infection, a sore in his mouth, and a new tooth coming in. Poor thing! He’s much better now, though he still has a cough and has started itching at his ear for some reason.
We missed the Christmas church service because of JD’s recuperation, but went on Sunday. It was three and a half hours long. One of the reasons was because everything was said in English, then immediately repeated in Fante. There was also a special collection having something to do with a cardinal (it was a Catholic church), a baptism, and a ritual for something they called Priest Appreciation Day. About 40 people processed up the aisle with gifts for the priest, ranging from envelopes stuffed with cash to a large crate of Cokes to a 12-pack of toilet paper. Because nothing says “I appreciate your religious instruction” like toilet paper...?
After the service, we went to my homestay father’s father’s house with the extended family; the party was probably around 20 people. I had a nice time, although I was sore from sitting on a hard wooden bench all morning. JD was very shy, with so many people he barely knew trying to hold him and talk to him. When his parents went inside to eat, he clung to me and cried when anyone else took him. I’ve discovered I feel the same way about babies as I do about dogs: I tend to like them on an individual basis, and I like them best when they belong to other people.
Things are even slower at work right now with so many holidays; apparently most business-people in Ghana take off two weeks for Christmas and Boxing Day and New Year’s. Boxing Day this year was funny because it fell on a Saturday, but was celebrated the following Monday so the Ghanaians wouldn’t be deprived of their hard-earned holiday! Another instance of their determination to enjoy life. Anyway I’ve been spending a lot of time working on a Fante handbook for future volunteers, which I presented to Lawrence today. He was incredibly pleased and told me he thinks we could sell it! I’m just happy that he feels his teaching has been worthwhile. I get the impression that not everyone is as interested in the intricacies of Fante grammar as I am.
I’m including pictures from a wedding to which my homestay family invited me. It was very interesting – especially because I’ve never even been to an American, or any other, wedding before! Both the wedding and the church service featured a live band with singers and a church choir. I think the singing and drumming and dancing (yes, dancing) help maintain the congregation's attentions for those long services!
Lastly, a shout-out to my brother David who just turned 26. Even though he won’t be reading this, Happy Birthday Dave! I love you.
The interior of the church, trimmed in purple for Advent.
Priest giving an opening speech on love and marriage.
A woman on her cellphone during the priest's opening speech.
The hats were spectacular: Western-style hats that would put the ladies at the Kentucky Derby to shame, and Ghanaian-style hats that looked as if they were made from wrapping paper.
The priest preparing the wafer and wine for communion.
The altar being blessed with incense.
The bride converted to Catholicism and took her first communion as part of the wedding ceremony. I gather this is not uncommon. Another note that my homestay mother told me: in Ghana, men "court" women up until the day of the wedding; they only get engaged on the morning of the blessed event.
The main duty of the maid of honor and best man were to mop the sweat from the brows of the happy couple.
Taking their vows.
I now pronounce you man and wife!
Sheep grazing in the front yard.
JD at the church and outside the house with his dad.
I couldn't resist: the live chicken in front of the ready-to-eat chicken!
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