Indeed, the holidays are here in Ghana. It's been a surprising couple of days so far. How? Let me use a list (as always) to express the surprises:
A. Remember all those Christmas songs in the US that play when its cold outside? they still play here; its odd to be sweating in 85 degree weather outside and hear "Chestnuts, roasting on an open fire..."
B. I am staying with a Ghanaian family for Christmas and New Year's (I stayed with them last NY as well). Let me say: I am being spoiled with fans, a Wii, and a spectacular house.
C. I've thought about staying (extending) for another year, but I don't know if things will come to fruition. Even being in Accra for the holidays, people I've never met pleasantly shock me and come to talk to me about being in Saviefe and the work I'm doing there (nice/rewarding); but its one more year.
D. I am going to the beach today! Outlook: ~82 degrees, slightly hazy, and I'm not sure if I want to swim in water so close to Accra (sewer drainage from the big city).
E. There were some little kids (Ages 12, 8, 7, & 4) that were here: its an impressive thing to hear children that small speaking excellent English after living in the village where even kids at 15 have a hard time expressing simple thoughts and actions.
F. I received a small box of Ferrero-Rocher for Christmas (two thumbs up).
G. Some other Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) and I started a book club. Our first book was East of Eden by John Steinbeck - recently completed by Mike Shoup and book #101 finished since Sept. 15 2010.
H. I think I'm really going to miss Ghana whenever I leave - the people are extremely friendly and will go out of their way simply to ensure you are salubriously comfortable and verily relaxed. Examples: I was offered the nicest seat from a person while riding on a tro (the person got out of the seat to offer it!); at the house in Accra, all of my whims are thought of (drinks? food? [I didn't realize I was thirsty, but since you ask..]); "Do you want breakfast, Mike?", "Ye..", "Let me make you something!".
I. Everyone is my mother - "Mike, eat more food and feel free. I want you to be happy" (happy is sometimes equated to being fat and large, a symbol of wealth and beauty).
Anything else? I suppose a happy New Year's is in order... ok.
Oh! We PCVs in Volta have a girl's camp coming up on January 9-13. Its a leadership camp for girls in the equivalent of 8th grade (here, JHS Form 2) to educate them about leadership, HIV/AIDS awareness, career options, and to motivate them to study hard and succeed in their schooling.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Yes?
Successful completion of Taking-students-to-Ho-and-skyping-with-Americans, iteration II!! But now I'm exhausted so its time to read and bed. 8:45 never felt so late...
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Volta Verbalizations
If you,
YES YOU!!
are interested in a blog about some of my students, check out: http://voltaverbalizations.blogspot.com/
I've just added a post about local food.
YES YOU!!
are interested in a blog about some of my students, check out: http://voltaverbalizations.blogspot.com/
I've just added a post about local food.
No Updates? Here's One
No real updates in a while? Tired of not knowing how your son/brother/nephew/friend/acquaintance is managing? It's time to remedy the situation!
Harmattan has started, so nights are cool (maybe lows around 65) and daytime highs approaching 80, though the air is super-dry. The sun sometimes is visible not as a bright blob in the sky, but as generally bright section of the sky - sometimes its impossible to even tell where the sun is. Why? Because trade winds blow dust from a part of the Sahara desert over West Africa, instead of the normal monsoon-esque route from the ocean. A soon-to-not-be-so-thin layer of dust has covered all unprotected things, so I've had a student come to clean my house a few times (not as slave labor - I'm helping him pay some school fees). I went to the north (Tamale) for Thanksgiving, which 1) is far 2) is costly and 3) I had a good time.
Let's see what other random updates are happening:
I. I just found out there is a gym complete with concrete weights not even thirty feet from my bedroom - I just never thought to go to said secret area.
II. Exams have started for school, so I'm busy catching students cheating on tests (seizure count = 3). I make them come and do work for me at the house too.
III. Been trying to get some exercise, at least an hour a day... knowing that a gym is available to use (though it only has 3 weights) may help.
IV. I went to Kpando to help a friend out with a football tournament to educate people about HIV/AIDS - it was a great success! Though my part was small, and I mostly stood around looking intimidating and telling kids to be quiet and go away.
V. My normal routine is = wake up, coffee, school, exercise, eat, sit by the road and talk to people, read, sleep
VI. PALM WINE SEASON IS HERE! So a special friend is bringing me sweet delicious delectable palm wine nearly everyday.
VII. Speaking of adventures, I've been going with my rasta-friend out to people farm's to eat and drink some fresh palmie (palm wine).
VIII. Days in Africa = 554
IX. Days left in Ghana = 241
X. Average number of bananas eaten in a given day: ~6
XI. Number of days each week I eat bananas with beans, red oil, and peppers (aka redred): 5
XII. Number of days I wish I was eating something besides redred since I've been in Ghana: 0
XIII. Amount of weight my friend claims to have gained from being in the US for 2 weeks: 25 pounds
XIV. Books read to date: 100
XV. Approximate number of free akpoteshie shots offered to me on a given day: 2
XVI. Days since last malaria attack: 331
Harmattan has started, so nights are cool (maybe lows around 65) and daytime highs approaching 80, though the air is super-dry. The sun sometimes is visible not as a bright blob in the sky, but as generally bright section of the sky - sometimes its impossible to even tell where the sun is. Why? Because trade winds blow dust from a part of the Sahara desert over West Africa, instead of the normal monsoon-esque route from the ocean. A soon-to-not-be-so-thin layer of dust has covered all unprotected things, so I've had a student come to clean my house a few times (not as slave labor - I'm helping him pay some school fees). I went to the north (Tamale) for Thanksgiving, which 1) is far 2) is costly and 3) I had a good time.
Let's see what other random updates are happening:
I. I just found out there is a gym complete with concrete weights not even thirty feet from my bedroom - I just never thought to go to said secret area.
II. Exams have started for school, so I'm busy catching students cheating on tests (seizure count = 3). I make them come and do work for me at the house too.
III. Been trying to get some exercise, at least an hour a day... knowing that a gym is available to use (though it only has 3 weights) may help.
IV. I went to Kpando to help a friend out with a football tournament to educate people about HIV/AIDS - it was a great success! Though my part was small, and I mostly stood around looking intimidating and telling kids to be quiet and go away.
V. My normal routine is = wake up, coffee, school, exercise, eat, sit by the road and talk to people, read, sleep
VI. PALM WINE SEASON IS HERE! So a special friend is bringing me sweet delicious delectable palm wine nearly everyday.
VII. Speaking of adventures, I've been going with my rasta-friend out to people farm's to eat and drink some fresh palmie (palm wine).
VIII. Days in Africa = 554
IX. Days left in Ghana = 241
X. Average number of bananas eaten in a given day: ~6
XI. Number of days each week I eat bananas with beans, red oil, and peppers (aka redred): 5
XII. Number of days I wish I was eating something besides redred since I've been in Ghana: 0
XIII. Amount of weight my friend claims to have gained from being in the US for 2 weeks: 25 pounds
XIV. Books read to date: 100
XV. Approximate number of free akpoteshie shots offered to me on a given day: 2
XVI. Days since last malaria attack: 331
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Ghana's Longest Serving Chief
http://www.ghanaculture.gov.gh/index1.php?linkid=65&archiveid=1165&page=1&adate=20/12/2007
Ghana's Longest Serving Chief is also the chief of my traditional area (Saviefe). I met the chief last year at Agokpo, and he's pretty old (now, 94) and has been the Paramount chief of the area for 74 years.
Ghana's Longest Serving Chief is also the chief of my traditional area (Saviefe). I met the chief last year at Agokpo, and he's pretty old (now, 94) and has been the Paramount chief of the area for 74 years.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Shafted...
I've been Ghana'd. Some colleagues of mine and me were supposed to meet in a town called Hohoe to plan for our upcoming girls camp, so we set the time for 12 noon. Of course, I live pretty far away, and on a good day it will take about 2.5 hours of strict travelling just to get there (not counting free time waiting for tranports arrivals). I allowed myself an extra hour for waiting, and in case something happened (its Africa, after all). 8:30 I was roadside waiting for a vehicle. And waiting. And waiting some more. Two hours pass – not a single car going the direction I'm going (only 1 passed the other way during this time). Since as a PCV we aren't allowed to ride motorcycles, and by now its too late to walk two towns over to catch a vehicle from there – I cancelled my trip. Boo.
The sad part is, I tried to take a shortcut today, that is, take a route that cuts about an hour off transit time. After being repeatedly assured by multiple people that I would get a car going the new direction (and one person who said it was foolish to go that way), I deluded myself into beleiving that a car would come. Alas, Ghana won, Mike zero.
So a few days ago at school the students were erecting a bamboo tent, of sorts, to block out the sun (which, let me remind you, since we are on the equator, its hot!) for our upcoming sports day at the school. This by itself isn't too exciting (more a common occurance), but then all the extra bamboo they collected, poked hole to make them pipes of varying lengths, and then started to pound them on some excess cement area. The overall effect was a hypnotizing methodical melody (sounding a lot like a drum circle, but with bamboo sticks!) that put me to sleep under a mango tree. Only in Africa will students spontaneously create their own music when they are bored and develop songs to sing in response to the day.
Other interesting tidbits:
1.Playing volleyball with other teachers and townsfolk is now happening (thanks Mom!)
2.Thanksgiving is approaching, and I'm going to the northern nether reaches of Ghana
3.Went to a small town nearby and slaughtered a chicken
4.Sports day happened, and my town (Gbogame) won for both boys and girls football
5.I got sunburned for the first time in three months (thanks volleyball)
6.Starting to somehow prepare for Foreign Service Officer's Test (FSOT) to take sometime next year.
The sad part is, I tried to take a shortcut today, that is, take a route that cuts about an hour off transit time. After being repeatedly assured by multiple people that I would get a car going the new direction (and one person who said it was foolish to go that way), I deluded myself into beleiving that a car would come. Alas, Ghana won, Mike zero.
So a few days ago at school the students were erecting a bamboo tent, of sorts, to block out the sun (which, let me remind you, since we are on the equator, its hot!) for our upcoming sports day at the school. This by itself isn't too exciting (more a common occurance), but then all the extra bamboo they collected, poked hole to make them pipes of varying lengths, and then started to pound them on some excess cement area. The overall effect was a hypnotizing methodical melody (sounding a lot like a drum circle, but with bamboo sticks!) that put me to sleep under a mango tree. Only in Africa will students spontaneously create their own music when they are bored and develop songs to sing in response to the day.
Other interesting tidbits:
1.Playing volleyball with other teachers and townsfolk is now happening (thanks Mom!)
2.Thanksgiving is approaching, and I'm going to the northern nether reaches of Ghana
3.Went to a small town nearby and slaughtered a chicken
4.Sports day happened, and my town (Gbogame) won for both boys and girls football
5.I got sunburned for the first time in three months (thanks volleyball)
6.Starting to somehow prepare for Foreign Service Officer's Test (FSOT) to take sometime next year.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Sasadu
Sasadu is the festival involving four towns in the area - Saviefe, Akrofu, Sovie, and Alavanyo, hence S, A, S, A, or Sasa. The festival will be in the town, Saviefe, this weekend. Sasadu is an ancestral festival to remember when the people moved away from a wicked king called Agorkoli in the modern day Togo/Benin area. They use four colours to decorate the festival. Those colours are green, white, red and blue. Saviefe is green; Akrofu is red; Sovie is blue; Alavanyo is white. People will be performing traditional rituals. When they were on the way coming, the people from Akrofu, Sovie and Alavanyo will meet at Bame. Then they met at cemetery at Bame. Then they will all come together and come to Saviefe. When they are coming, and they know that they are reaching Saviefe they will stop at the way and make traditional ritual after they have finished making the ritual. They drink palm wine in bamboo cups and fetch water and pour it in basket. They wear different dresses. All the chiefs from each town will come with their queens and reach the dabar ground. They will carry all their chiefs and their queens in a palanquin and they will dance in it.
This post was created by the form 3 pupils at Saviefe Gbogame JHS.
This post was created by the form 3 pupils at Saviefe Gbogame JHS.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The Internets
I received a call from someone in Switzerland who is reading my blog the other day (its okay, I know her), so this is now a trinational blog. Get it Right.
We just had our first intercontinental interconnect between students from my JHS and kids from a school in the US! Hooray! Fortunately, everything went off (relatively) smoothly. With some help from one Chris Massie, and a surprise appearance by another Bryan Dodd, we got 16 kids set up with some email accounts, and face-to-face time with some American students. Not too shabby for leaving the town at 12 noon and arriving at 6:30.
During the ride after the Skyping event back to the village (one student said he doesn't live in a village, he lives in a 'community'! Hilarious), I'm spacing out because the engine is loud and all my students are singing songs. Thats what they do after something fun: they clap and sing and have a good time; we could learn from them. Anyway, after some Ewe songs and a few improvised verses (part of the singing), I hear the following gem:
Mister Mike,
We love you so,
and when you go,
remember us!
(repeat and sing with clapping and rhythms)
There were also songs in English and Ewe, but with the rhythm its hard to hear what exactly is audibly coherent versus jibberjabber.
Good News is that I think everyone had a lot of fun, learned, and it was a 'character building experience'. Bad News is that some people in my school feel left out about not going. Too bad for them. Additionally, I'm back to teaching math recreationally (and almost like its my job!) for the boys and girls, and thankfully the social studies department is in abeyance. Yahoo. Which incidentally is everyone's new email host. And since the pupils have unique names (Approx. Ex. Komla Caeser, Osei Shine, etc.) everyone's address is like unique.newyork at yahoo.com. No Numbers, Just Letters.
We just had our first intercontinental interconnect between students from my JHS and kids from a school in the US! Hooray! Fortunately, everything went off (relatively) smoothly. With some help from one Chris Massie, and a surprise appearance by another Bryan Dodd, we got 16 kids set up with some email accounts, and face-to-face time with some American students. Not too shabby for leaving the town at 12 noon and arriving at 6:30.
During the ride after the Skyping event back to the village (one student said he doesn't live in a village, he lives in a 'community'! Hilarious), I'm spacing out because the engine is loud and all my students are singing songs. Thats what they do after something fun: they clap and sing and have a good time; we could learn from them. Anyway, after some Ewe songs and a few improvised verses (part of the singing), I hear the following gem:
Mister Mike,
We love you so,
and when you go,
remember us!
(repeat and sing with clapping and rhythms)
There were also songs in English and Ewe, but with the rhythm its hard to hear what exactly is audibly coherent versus jibberjabber.
Good News is that I think everyone had a lot of fun, learned, and it was a 'character building experience'. Bad News is that some people in my school feel left out about not going. Too bad for them. Additionally, I'm back to teaching math recreationally (and almost like its my job!) for the boys and girls, and thankfully the social studies department is in abeyance. Yahoo. Which incidentally is everyone's new email host. And since the pupils have unique names (Approx. Ex. Komla Caeser, Osei Shine, etc.) everyone's address is like unique.newyork at yahoo.com. No Numbers, Just Letters.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Social Studies Teacher
It's true! I'm now teaching social studies for form 1 and 2. You may ask extraneous questions like "But Mike, aren't you teaching Math?" and "Are you qualified to teach social studies?". The answer to both is no. But why not try my hand at teaching different subject? If I don't teach it, no one else will (lack of teachers at the school and people just dont want to teach SS). Also, I'm trying to start a penpal program of sorts, where students in my school will make a trip down to Ho (destination: Internet Cafe) and skype with students from the US. Hopefully this week or next week we will start implementing our action plan. Halloween is fast approaching, and I will be traveling for a bit to enjoy the holiday, albeit on a bad road to the destination.
Vodafone modem inoperable (to connect to the Internet from my town), and Voda is refusing to give me cash-back (only vouchers to spend at Voda). Lame. So it may be another few weeks before I can get access for my ICT students to the Internet from the village. Woe.
This about sums up the weeks. 10 months to go, but time is going by quickly!
Vodafone modem inoperable (to connect to the Internet from my town), and Voda is refusing to give me cash-back (only vouchers to spend at Voda). Lame. So it may be another few weeks before I can get access for my ICT students to the Internet from the village. Woe.
This about sums up the weeks. 10 months to go, but time is going by quickly!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Year Two. Begin!
Its the start of Year Two for my service. How do I feel about it? I'm a little ambivalent about knowing that everything is over half over: I will miss the people here, but I'm also a little frustrated with 'the system' as a whole (educationally speaking). It came to me after reading about an experience Richard Feinman had in Brazil. The education isn't teaching real, tangible things in subjects like Math and Science. It teaches how to change numbers in base ten (our number system) to base two (binary): what on earth is the point? How many school kids will be honestly asked, in real life, to physically change numbers into different number systems? Also, the word problems are completely extraneous as well – Tell people how to say such and such a number in a different language you will never hear. For ICT, I have to teach about some information processing cycle and how it pertains to a computer, when most children have no idea how to even use a mouse to point and click. Is this Information Cycle what we want to pass on in our tests? Its as if someone in the education service decided "Our kids need to learn computers". "We should test them on if they know computers or not". "Let's make a test to test knowledge, but it has to be on paper". Then there is a feedback loop where tests are based on textbooks and textbooks are based on the tests. It ends up that the mundane and worthless information is what is memorized (In what year was email invented? Name one advantage of the Internet. What does CPU stand for?) as opposed to more relevant topics (Typing, Navigating a computer desktop). Its like those who are in charge set questions, but what real world is knowledge is transferred? Only how to memorize and regurgitate facts, and not critical thinking (in very short supply!). People get degrees in education, but that only enables them to move to a higher institution to teach and earn more, all the while practicing the same techniques of information transfer – memorization! If someone has an abundance of knowledge in irrelevant information, and teaches it to a younger disciple, what can you say the disciple is educated in? Perhaps 'learning the system'.
On a different stream of consciousness way of thinking, I decided to do P90X to get into shape. Not that I was in bad shape, but when villagers comment "Kofi, you are looking large!" or "Obolo Kofi", its time for a change. My fellow teacher just called me "extra large". So, every morning for 90 days (almost, except for saturdays which is a rest day) I get up at 5:30 and exercise for an hour. As I am only about 2 and a half weeks in, I can't comment on the effectiveness yet in the weight trimming area, but I can see an upper body difference. Also since I've been here for a year, people are used to seeing me. Consequently, and nearly every night I walk around my town, I get invited to people's houses for drinks and sometimes food. Not that I don't like the local moonshine to drink, but last night there was an exceptionally strong (70%?) drink that I had. Even the locals made faces at it: that's how you know its good.
On a different stream of consciousness way of thinking, I decided to do P90X to get into shape. Not that I was in bad shape, but when villagers comment "Kofi, you are looking large!" or "Obolo Kofi", its time for a change. My fellow teacher just called me "extra large". So, every morning for 90 days (almost, except for saturdays which is a rest day) I get up at 5:30 and exercise for an hour. As I am only about 2 and a half weeks in, I can't comment on the effectiveness yet in the weight trimming area, but I can see an upper body difference. Also since I've been here for a year, people are used to seeing me. Consequently, and nearly every night I walk around my town, I get invited to people's houses for drinks and sometimes food. Not that I don't like the local moonshine to drink, but last night there was an exceptionally strong (70%?) drink that I had. Even the locals made faces at it: that's how you know its good.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Vacation!
So I took about a month of to travel to Kenya, around Ghana, and chill in Accra to take a break from site, and to see family. I'm still composing a complete correspondence of the months travels, so I'll wait on that. But, school will be starting next Tuesday; also no other teachers are in my town. I showed up at my town and people asked "Kofi, where have you been? And why are you here? School doesn't start for another week!". At least I'm getting back in the groove of village living. Vacation was good though... the food alone probably added about 10 pounds to my frame. So to counterbalance that, its time to exercise!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
July
Greetings! Its finally time for another blog update. This term at school is still ongoing; we are on a trimester system here, so this is the third term (but uninformed students consistently misspell it as 'terd'), and I've decided to start playing football (soccer) with my students on Fridays. Another teacher, who could play semi-professionally, is on the opposite team as me. Now I played soccer (football) when I was younger and was decent, but simply put this teacher puts me to shame. Even the students, at 13-17 years old are good. Take my school of about 100 students, and pit them against regular middle school in the US... these kids would dominate (assuming they had working-condition footwear!) I am better than most of the kids, however I dont have cleats (a major disadvantage, including this past time when we played through a major rainstorm.); ergo three times running now, my fellow teacher's team has beaten my team (though we are closing the gap).
The semester is almost over, and the coming term break means vacation!! Seeing family again, travelling, hooray!!
The semester is almost over, and the coming term break means vacation!! Seeing family again, travelling, hooray!!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
So recently I went to a small town called Saviefe Gbedome. My town is Saviefe Gbogame (Gbogame meaning big town), but Gbedome is an extremely small town situated about a 2 hour walk away (FYI - the initial G is silent, so Gbedome is sounds like beh-do-meh). Through fields, bushes, and a river we made it to Gbedome. I know a man who has two wives (one in Gbogame the other in Gbedome.. maybe to prevent fighting?) and is from Gbedome, so I at least had a guide and a person to stay with while I was there. Among the other interesting things about the town, it had a town map like this: --|--|--|--|--|-----|------| where everyone lives along one road, and isn't clustered like a traditional town. I find this funny because even though the town is only about 200 people large, it takes 8 minutes to walk from one side of the town to the other! I met multiple people with multiple wives (a status symbol), had multiple libation ceremonies (always a crowd favorite), had multiple talks about how to develop the town, and met many, many men who were trying to give their daughters to me (either to wed or...). Overall, the town was idyllic: in addition to sweeping the entire town everyday, there is not a speck of trash to be seen, or goat poop to be had for such a large area.
Other exciting things going on: there was a funeral two weeks ago, and besides having a great time dressing up in my traditional dress, I met some other white people in my town! Turns out they are working in the town next to me, but commuting from Ho (~40 minutes) everyday to help build a school. Cool. So occassionally I ride my bike down (when I'm not teaching, of course) to their place to say hi and help with a few small things, like carrying cement on my head.
Temperature right now is pretty lax... still about mid 80's highs and mid 70's lows.
Also of notice: The guy who has one wife in my town and the other in the Gbedome recently had a 'bush accident'. I came to school one day and I hear "Sir! Sir! Mr Holy has been shot! He shot himself in the face!". He was making gunpowder for a gun (because bullets are about a dollar... too expensive), but the gunpowder ignited and went off in his face. I went to see him - not a pretty sight. I've been reassured that he will, in fact, be able to see again but I'm not as certain as others that this is the case.
I went to a wedding... which really is a treat, because like most Ghanaian celebrations there exists a veritable cornucopia of potentially edible substances. I stocked up and only ate one meal that day, with banku, okro stew, and some rice. I suppose thats all. Next weekend there is an 'excursion', as termed by my fellow teachers at the school, and we will be travelling to a national park.
Other exciting things going on: there was a funeral two weeks ago, and besides having a great time dressing up in my traditional dress, I met some other white people in my town! Turns out they are working in the town next to me, but commuting from Ho (~40 minutes) everyday to help build a school. Cool. So occassionally I ride my bike down (when I'm not teaching, of course) to their place to say hi and help with a few small things, like carrying cement on my head.
Temperature right now is pretty lax... still about mid 80's highs and mid 70's lows.
Also of notice: The guy who has one wife in my town and the other in the Gbedome recently had a 'bush accident'. I came to school one day and I hear "Sir! Sir! Mr Holy has been shot! He shot himself in the face!". He was making gunpowder for a gun (because bullets are about a dollar... too expensive), but the gunpowder ignited and went off in his face. I went to see him - not a pretty sight. I've been reassured that he will, in fact, be able to see again but I'm not as certain as others that this is the case.
I went to a wedding... which really is a treat, because like most Ghanaian celebrations there exists a veritable cornucopia of potentially edible substances. I stocked up and only ate one meal that day, with banku, okro stew, and some rice. I suppose thats all. Next weekend there is an 'excursion', as termed by my fellow teachers at the school, and we will be travelling to a national park.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Coping Strategies
Living in Ghana there are a few tricks of the trade to survive day to day life. Maybe not day to day in my village, but travelling around where I'm just another foreigner, coping strategies are a necessity. I talked about last time how if a small child stares at me I stare back at them until they get embarassed and look away. Some of these coping strategies are benign (long-term psychological impact of staring at small kids are inconclusive), but some are a little more malicious... I tend to gravitate toward playful banter.
Clarifications resolved via a question and answer format, GO:
Q: What do you do when someone asks you for money, beer, or food?
A: You flip back on them by accepting their nonexistent offer of money, beer, or food.
Q: What happens if you're feeling especially conversant that sunrise?
A: Ask unknown people to dash (give a small amount) you random things. (this has worked for yours truly with beer, soda, liquor, meat, and market transactions)
Q: What if you get thirsty waiting inside a vehicle for it to fill up?
A: Shuffle cries of 'pure wata', 'hey!', and hissing in a cacophonous symphony to emphasize your thirst. Alternatively, saying what you want to a seller or driver will cause them to cease all other willpower-related functionings and single-mindedly search for your designated item of interest.
Q: Do you go to an unknown person when they call you to come over?
A: No! Say you are coming to them and walk away. Really, people appreciate this joke (You are fooling me!).
Q: How can one build relationships in a village quickly and easily?
A: Buy rounds of moonshine!
Q: What is the easiest way to force people to smile?
A: Greeting them in the local language
Q: Fastest way to get introduced to sisters, nieces and daughters?
A: Me le sro di. (I am looking for a wife)
Now, onto the less-friendly retorts. I tend to find going to certain areas of the country I get harassed more, and these (unfortunately) become more standard.
Q: How do you react to someone is hissing and saying 'White person!' while you know they possess absolutely nothing of interest?
A: Ignore them and pretend you are deaf.
Q: In the big big cities (repitition for emphasis), when young children ask for money, how can you survive?
A: Transform into a freight train that runs beggar kids over for breakfast.Very effective.
Finally, as is common in many parts, people constantly ask
Q: "Where are you going?"
A: "Crazy!"
I know some people coming may find this short list of coping strategies beneficial to the spotlight that will shine upon them during their glorious adventure to Ghana.
Clarifications resolved via a question and answer format, GO:
Q: What do you do when someone asks you for money, beer, or food?
A: You flip back on them by accepting their nonexistent offer of money, beer, or food.
Q: What happens if you're feeling especially conversant that sunrise?
A: Ask unknown people to dash (give a small amount) you random things. (this has worked for yours truly with beer, soda, liquor, meat, and market transactions)
Q: What if you get thirsty waiting inside a vehicle for it to fill up?
A: Shuffle cries of 'pure wata', 'hey!', and hissing in a cacophonous symphony to emphasize your thirst. Alternatively, saying what you want to a seller or driver will cause them to cease all other willpower-related functionings and single-mindedly search for your designated item of interest.
Q: Do you go to an unknown person when they call you to come over?
A: No! Say you are coming to them and walk away. Really, people appreciate this joke (You are fooling me!).
Q: How can one build relationships in a village quickly and easily?
A: Buy rounds of moonshine!
Q: What is the easiest way to force people to smile?
A: Greeting them in the local language
Q: Fastest way to get introduced to sisters, nieces and daughters?
A: Me le sro di. (I am looking for a wife)
Now, onto the less-friendly retorts. I tend to find going to certain areas of the country I get harassed more, and these (unfortunately) become more standard.
Q: How do you react to someone is hissing and saying 'White person!' while you know they possess absolutely nothing of interest?
A: Ignore them and pretend you are deaf.
Q: In the big big cities (repitition for emphasis), when young children ask for money, how can you survive?
A: Transform into a freight train that runs beggar kids over for breakfast.Very effective.
Finally, as is common in many parts, people constantly ask
Q: "Where are you going?"
A: "Crazy!"
I know some people coming may find this short list of coping strategies beneficial to the spotlight that will shine upon them during their glorious adventure to Ghana.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Nothing in particular but Ghana
So being in Ghana is quite different than being in the United States, and there are some (surprising!) things that I miss about good ol' USA. They range from the ordinary (un-potholed roads, pizza) to the not-so-surprising (air conditioning, cold drinks) to the ridiculous (on-demand food, meals where starch isn't the central colorie provider). The food is one of the biggest things. Disclosure: I love to eat. And I'll eat everything. But food here can taste the same and carries the same character (carbs with a soup or stew as a side). Pizza in the village? Nonexistent. The only time people reliably eat spaghetti or pasta is when making a variant of a Ghanaian dish, Waakye (or Watsi [wah-chi]).
Another thing I miss about the US is simple radio programming (and a radio for that matter – I guess I could buy one here) like NPR. Science Friday, This American Life, Marketplace... these mystical programs can only be descibed as exotic and are found wanting in my soul.
Sports – this one is a combination of sports on television like football and tennis and also playing sports like racquetball or disc golf. Sure, I suppose I could build a 40 ft x 20 ft x 20ft box in my village and teach people how to play, but the difficulties involved would be too easy to overcome. Since I am more of a sports guy than an endurance person (like running – ick) I can tell that part of me is getting out of shape and underused. So I started doing P90X (the X is for Xtreme!!). Then I accidentally deleted the workout videos and am currently back to square one.
Finally, I suppose interacting with people that I can relate more with than just the weather or apkoteshi is something I do miss as well. Real Conversations? They can occur, but usually it goes like this when I try and talk about something serious, like amending the school discipline techniques: "Its our culture, and we need this."
A final difference is that there are a few people who don't agree with consuming any acohol at all, and visibly show that other people shouldn't either. These people mystify my imagination. If this person has seen me drink a single beer, I am accused of 'boozing' and being drunk (after one beer? Negative). This is different than abstainers in present-day US, and reminiscent of prohibition-era teetotallers. To cope with this phenomena, outdoor bars (called 'spots') usually have a optical-blocking scheme of some kind, like vertical wooden slats (or, as is more common in my village, spots are located in someone's living room behind closed walls).
I'm not ready to go back to the US yet, but I think I will be by the end of my service here. I can tell I make a difference in people's lives, and to spread word about American culture and its differences with Ghanaian culture, but there are simply things that I want to enjoy. Why do laundry by hand when I can have a washing machine do the same thing with far less effort? It builds character.
Being a white person in a black country has its ups and downs. Case and point is attention received when I'm doing absolutely nothing interesting. Small children enjoy staring at me, so I turn it into a game: I stare at them in the eyes until they feel shy and look away. I like to think of it at practice for staring down students in the classroom environment. On the flip side, people are almost always respectful and accommodating to my needs (or, I daresay, whims).
NOTES:
There's a song here that is from Nigeria, but contains a line "It's all about the benjamins baby"... are there $100 bills in Nigeria? I didn't know 'benjamins' was a common system of currency.
People have no reservations about stating truths in a straightforward manner ("Mike! You are looking fat! Ghana is good for you!" and "You always eat groundnuts, so I will call you groundnut man").
Another thing I miss about the US is simple radio programming (and a radio for that matter – I guess I could buy one here) like NPR. Science Friday, This American Life, Marketplace... these mystical programs can only be descibed as exotic and are found wanting in my soul.
Sports – this one is a combination of sports on television like football and tennis and also playing sports like racquetball or disc golf. Sure, I suppose I could build a 40 ft x 20 ft x 20ft box in my village and teach people how to play, but the difficulties involved would be too easy to overcome. Since I am more of a sports guy than an endurance person (like running – ick) I can tell that part of me is getting out of shape and underused. So I started doing P90X (the X is for Xtreme!!). Then I accidentally deleted the workout videos and am currently back to square one.
Finally, I suppose interacting with people that I can relate more with than just the weather or apkoteshi is something I do miss as well. Real Conversations? They can occur, but usually it goes like this when I try and talk about something serious, like amending the school discipline techniques: "Its our culture, and we need this."
A final difference is that there are a few people who don't agree with consuming any acohol at all, and visibly show that other people shouldn't either. These people mystify my imagination. If this person has seen me drink a single beer, I am accused of 'boozing' and being drunk (after one beer? Negative). This is different than abstainers in present-day US, and reminiscent of prohibition-era teetotallers. To cope with this phenomena, outdoor bars (called 'spots') usually have a optical-blocking scheme of some kind, like vertical wooden slats (or, as is more common in my village, spots are located in someone's living room behind closed walls).
I'm not ready to go back to the US yet, but I think I will be by the end of my service here. I can tell I make a difference in people's lives, and to spread word about American culture and its differences with Ghanaian culture, but there are simply things that I want to enjoy. Why do laundry by hand when I can have a washing machine do the same thing with far less effort? It builds character.
Being a white person in a black country has its ups and downs. Case and point is attention received when I'm doing absolutely nothing interesting. Small children enjoy staring at me, so I turn it into a game: I stare at them in the eyes until they feel shy and look away. I like to think of it at practice for staring down students in the classroom environment. On the flip side, people are almost always respectful and accommodating to my needs (or, I daresay, whims).
NOTES:
There's a song here that is from Nigeria, but contains a line "It's all about the benjamins baby"... are there $100 bills in Nigeria? I didn't know 'benjamins' was a common system of currency.
People have no reservations about stating truths in a straightforward manner ("Mike! You are looking fat! Ghana is good for you!" and "You always eat groundnuts, so I will call you groundnut man").
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Local School for Witchcraft and Wizardry
So here's a little parable about the spiritual conflicts of a society. During our term break, there was some motor oil spilled outside of the teacher's lounge and the headmaster's office at our school. My thought process = Hmm that's odd, but whatever. Local teachers' reaction = we will not teach until the perpetrator is found and brought to justice because the oil may be a sign of a curse.
Ok.
We just had a meeting about this situation at the school. Until we had this meeting, where it was revealed that the local church and church members came to pray to Jesus to counteract this lesser traditional belief, the staff members refused to enter either room. Since all of the log books and grade books were in the rooms, who went into the danger zone to collect them? Students. Thankfully, the belief that spirits exist are compatible with Christianity (according to the Bible, from locals vehemently protesting "it's true!") is widespread. It is the opinion that Jesus is, in a sense, the supreme spirit with power over all other minor spirits; therefore praying to Jesus gives power over minor spirits. Also, pouring libation in the form of local gin is the same as Jesus in driving out evil spirits.
From a historical perspective, Christianity was only introduced about 120 years ago. People had their traditional beliefs and deities before then, and when they converted to Christianity the easiest way for people to accept it (and convert) was simply to keep many traditional beliefs but put Jesus and God at the top of the Tower of ethereal Power.
Sad News: I got cut from a piece of glass and it started to become infected. While still oozing pus, I no longer have a fever.
Avg daytime high:84
Avg nighttime low:74
Ok.
We just had a meeting about this situation at the school. Until we had this meeting, where it was revealed that the local church and church members came to pray to Jesus to counteract this lesser traditional belief, the staff members refused to enter either room. Since all of the log books and grade books were in the rooms, who went into the danger zone to collect them? Students. Thankfully, the belief that spirits exist are compatible with Christianity (according to the Bible, from locals vehemently protesting "it's true!") is widespread. It is the opinion that Jesus is, in a sense, the supreme spirit with power over all other minor spirits; therefore praying to Jesus gives power over minor spirits. Also, pouring libation in the form of local gin is the same as Jesus in driving out evil spirits.
From a historical perspective, Christianity was only introduced about 120 years ago. People had their traditional beliefs and deities before then, and when they converted to Christianity the easiest way for people to accept it (and convert) was simply to keep many traditional beliefs but put Jesus and God at the top of the Tower of ethereal Power.
Sad News: I got cut from a piece of glass and it started to become infected. While still oozing pus, I no longer have a fever.
Avg daytime high:84
Avg nighttime low:74
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Term break!
Check it out: The past few weeks I've been traveling around Ghana enjoying a variety of activities. First, I went to a paragliding festival in Mpraeso, Eastern Region. Besides possessing cool weather (always a bonus!) I went paragliding for thirty minutes! Pretty cool stuff. Also the scenery is fantastic with rolling hills, forests, sheer rock faces. Next I took a ferry to see some friends in Donkorkrom, in the middle of Volta Lake. The Afram Plains area in which they live has some real pretty sights, more typical of what you would expect of 'Africa' – some open spaces, fairly flat, and very rural. From Donkorkrom, I went with a buddy across a different ferry and to Hohoe in Volta Region, and in the same day went to Wli waterfalls. Wli is an awesome (and supposidly largest) waterfall in West Africa, with an intense hike to the upper falls. The next day, I went with two friends to Amedzofe, about a two hour hike from the road to the top of the mountain with some spectacular views. A quick roundup of the rest of my trip includes ubiquitious dashes:
-Jasikan in northern Volta (used a computer!)
-Dzita on the beach in southern Volta (great getaway spot and played bunches of board games)
-Aflao near the Togo border (delicious baugettes with avocado filling!)
-Ho, my market town
At Ho we had an All-Volunteer Conference for all Peace Corps Volunteers in Ghana, with most of PC staff as well. We had a poker tournament with about 20 people, and I ended up splitting the pot for first place! Tons of fun. AllVols taught about PEPFAR funding (President's Emergency Plan For AIDS Relief), and hopefully with a little determination and effort, there is a plan for a plan for a workshop about educating teenage girls about HIV/AIDS and gender empowerment. I do have a little bit of a hangover from seeing so many Americans the past few weeks; its nice to be back at my site but also sad to be away from friends I've reconnected with. School resumes Monday!!
Return/Outlook
-Jasikan in northern Volta (used a computer!)
-Dzita on the beach in southern Volta (great getaway spot and played bunches of board games)
-Aflao near the Togo border (delicious baugettes with avocado filling!)
-Ho, my market town
At Ho we had an All-Volunteer Conference for all Peace Corps Volunteers in Ghana, with most of PC staff as well. We had a poker tournament with about 20 people, and I ended up splitting the pot for first place! Tons of fun. AllVols taught about PEPFAR funding (President's Emergency Plan For AIDS Relief), and hopefully with a little determination and effort, there is a plan for a plan for a workshop about educating teenage girls about HIV/AIDS and gender empowerment. I do have a little bit of a hangover from seeing so many Americans the past few weeks; its nice to be back at my site but also sad to be away from friends I've reconnected with. School resumes Monday!!
Return/Outlook
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Small Differences
Because I seem to have an excess of disposable time, I'm trying to find things besides school (we are on term break) to do.
Exhibit A: I finally took some pictures of some people and places in the bush/farm, so you all can see the habitat. This is not the same brushland found on African safari shows, but its a low level jungle.
Exhibit B: Doing math problems from a GRE study book to keep my mind sharp.
Exhibit C: Finding pleasure in the mundane tasks of cleaning and washing. I know this may seem like an oxymoronic statement, but its the simple things that give us pleasure.
The average size of the Ghanaian is much smaller than the average American, and the little things in Ghanaian society, or should I say architecture, reflect this size paradigm. People in my village are about 5'8 at the most; consequently, architecture such as doorways, vendors' roofs, and hanging objects all hang much lower; ergo, I have to stoop when entering into most rooms and when I buy from the market (you only hit your head once, unless you've had some small small amount of the local gin, in which case behavioral learning is disabled). Walking in my regional capital/market town, Ho () can be hazardous because of low hanging tin roofs and also because of open sewers (not a wise idea to fall into).
Other byproducts of local stature and economics: legroom in trotros is severely lacking (to compensate, imagine riding sidesaddle all the way to your destination!); the backseats of taxis fit 4 people, "comfortably" (even the front seat can fit two people, should you be so inclined to try); personal space is an option on my Metrobus (charterbus) to the regional capital (but privelage is revoked when the number of people is more than twice the capacity of bus seats); even beds are, on average, too short for myself. Am I a giant? Perhaps.
Picture of the week: chickens, in a tree!
Last week's math question: I am 24. When will be the next time my age is the sum of two prime numbers AND also a prime number? Answer: 31 (29+2=31 and 31 is prime)
Trivia: What is the only flag in the world that is not a geometric shape?
Exhibit A: I finally took some pictures of some people and places in the bush/farm, so you all can see the habitat. This is not the same brushland found on African safari shows, but its a low level jungle.
Exhibit B: Doing math problems from a GRE study book to keep my mind sharp.
Exhibit C: Finding pleasure in the mundane tasks of cleaning and washing. I know this may seem like an oxymoronic statement, but its the simple things that give us pleasure.
The average size of the Ghanaian is much smaller than the average American, and the little things in Ghanaian society, or should I say architecture, reflect this size paradigm. People in my village are about 5'8 at the most; consequently, architecture such as doorways, vendors' roofs, and hanging objects all hang much lower; ergo, I have to stoop when entering into most rooms and when I buy from the market (you only hit your head once, unless you've had some small small amount of the local gin, in which case behavioral learning is disabled). Walking in my regional capital/market town, Ho (
Other byproducts of local stature and economics: legroom in trotros is severely lacking (to compensate, imagine riding sidesaddle all the way to your destination!); the backseats of taxis fit 4 people, "comfortably" (even the front seat can fit two people, should you be so inclined to try); personal space is an option on my Metrobus (charterbus) to the regional capital (but privelage is revoked when the number of people is more than twice the capacity of bus seats); even beds are, on average, too short for myself. Am I a giant? Perhaps.
Picture of the week: chickens, in a tree!
Last week's math question: I am 24. When will be the next time my age is the sum of two prime numbers AND also a prime number? Answer: 31 (29+2=31 and 31 is prime)
Trivia: What is the only flag in the world that is not a geometric shape?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Life's Little Victories when traveling
Travel in Ghana typically happens via one of three vectors: tro-tro, taxi, or moto. Since Peace Corps bans me from motorcycles (which is dangerous anyway, because they dont wear helmets, go on dirt roads around blind corners through rain, and drivers usually dont have a license), I tend to stick with semi-reliable forms of transit and supposed safety.There are some typically Ghanaian/African aspects to relocating your body around the country: Some tro-tros will, in a row designed for three people, fit four, five even six bodies to make more money or because transit options are scarce (economics explain it all!). The roads may even be paved, but that doesn't make it a good road if there are multiple potholes per foot of asphalt – parts of the dirt road that goes to my town is better than the main highway to a city of around 10,000 people (the pothole per foot ratio is very important). Traveling at night is not recommended because of two things: sometimes the headlights on a car doesnt work (or the driver wants to save money so he doesn't turn them on) and the potential for armed robbers. Also, cars and tro-tros dont leave until every nook in filled with a limb; no one wants to go to my town? I wait. Finally, much like a bar or a club, the bigger you are the more right of way you have. A small taxi will almost always yield to a Metrobus (think charter bus) because hey, if theres an accident the metrobus driver will be out of a job, but the taxi driver may be dead, much like my bar example. With this being said, life does bring some little victories to travelling:
Life's Little Victories
Being the last person to board a tro-tro/taxi that immediately leaves (Yes!!)
Riding a Metrobus and other vehicles will part like the Red Sea (Score!! Suckers!!)
Knowing the road ahead has no potholes (Time for a nap!!)
Sitting in the backseat of a tro and pretending to be fat so only three people will be on a three-person seat (When the door closes I stretch out, bonanza!!)
Not seeing a large person boarding the taxi to my town (Then I can steal the front seat while the other four people cram into the back seat of a compact car!!)
Walking to the roadside of my town and seeing a vehicle (I think I will go to the city!!)
Riding my bike to a neighboring town to catch a vehicle, and no one passes me on the way there (Complex decision = justified!!)
Finding a wageshi (fried cheese) seller right outside my vehicle ( I'll take THREE!!)
Riding my bike home and seeing the 'local gin' seller / Primary school teacher in my neighboring town, who indicentially offers free shots to all teachers (I've had a long journey, might as well treat myself to something nice...)
Life's Little Victories is a cartoon in the Funny Times (for those that dont know, it is a monthly political cartoon and humor newspaper – highly recommended by yours truly!). Additional information for you digestion: my birthday is April 16th! And for those than can't remember how old I am, I will be 24! I am 23 now, which is a prime number.
TEST: When will be the next time my age is the sum of two prime numbers AND also a prime number?
Answer: TBA
I think this question comes from me doing oodles of GRE/GMAT math problems. I find doing them is fun and relaxing; my correct answer rate is about 95%, but time constraints during the actual test will make it harder. Also, I'm thinking about going back to school a year or two after I return to the US. Will ponder over it.
Life's Little Victories
Being the last person to board a tro-tro/taxi that immediately leaves (Yes!!)
Riding a Metrobus and other vehicles will part like the Red Sea (Score!! Suckers!!)
Knowing the road ahead has no potholes (Time for a nap!!)
Sitting in the backseat of a tro and pretending to be fat so only three people will be on a three-person seat (When the door closes I stretch out, bonanza!!)
Not seeing a large person boarding the taxi to my town (Then I can steal the front seat while the other four people cram into the back seat of a compact car!!)
Walking to the roadside of my town and seeing a vehicle (I think I will go to the city!!)
Riding my bike to a neighboring town to catch a vehicle, and no one passes me on the way there (Complex decision = justified!!)
Finding a wageshi (fried cheese) seller right outside my vehicle ( I'll take THREE!!)
Riding my bike home and seeing the 'local gin' seller / Primary school teacher in my neighboring town, who indicentially offers free shots to all teachers (I've had a long journey, might as well treat myself to something nice...)
Life's Little Victories is a cartoon in the Funny Times (for those that dont know, it is a monthly political cartoon and humor newspaper – highly recommended by yours truly!). Additional information for you digestion: my birthday is April 16th! And for those than can't remember how old I am, I will be 24! I am 23 now, which is a prime number.
TEST: When will be the next time my age is the sum of two prime numbers AND also a prime number?
Answer: TBA
I think this question comes from me doing oodles of GRE/GMAT math problems. I find doing them is fun and relaxing; my correct answer rate is about 95%, but time constraints during the actual test will make it harder. Also, I'm thinking about going back to school a year or two after I return to the US. Will ponder over it.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Prices of Cheap, Cheap items
Hello! As you may know, Ghana is a country in Africa that is currently listed as 'underdevolped', but within the next 5 years it should be upgraded to 'developing'. Let's examine some of the advantages associated where the cost of living is consequently low from lack of capital. The prices of items can be extremely cheap compared to the US, but on average I would say they are about 1/5 of US prices.
• A pineapple the size of your head can be bought for about 1 dollar
• The cost of going from Ho, my regional capital to Accra, the national capital costs as little as 5 dollars for a 3 hour ride (compare THAT to Greyhound)
• I bought a knife for 50 cents. Granted, I have someone sharpen it quite often.
• Three tomatoes in the US can go for a dollar, but here its about thirty tomatoes/dollar
• The third-worlds' favorite snack, Obama Biscuits, sells for 15 cents a pack (comes complete with Obama's face on every wrapper!)
• For a mere 7 dollars, a meal can be prepared to feed 6 people handsomely.
With clearout prices like these, its easy to spend next to nothing while here! Especially for you all coming to visit me, prepare to spend more on a plane ticket than you would in a month here! I'm in the village, and essentially the African bush for food perspectives: My rasta-friend brings me avocados gifts every other day or so (usually about 5, but this past time I now have 10 avocados to eat before they all go bad... hello calories!). Speaking of calories, people in my village make some comments like "Kofi! You are becoming large, Africa is good for you!" and "Yevuga" (translation = big white person): understandably, the lack of organized sports (except soccer with 12 year olds) has taken its intended victim, Me. To counteract this balance of power, I purloined some P90X workout videos from a friend to stay in shape. Updates on whether this will have an discernable effect will follow in the future.
I just had a wonderful day the other day: The day after school finished for the term, I went out to the bush at 6am with my rasta-friend. After collecting (and partaking in) some palm-wine, we ate some banku, and later some fufu. Being the middle of nowhere in the bush was incredibly relaxing (minus the bugs). Then we went and collected some avocadoes from an avocado tree, checked a trap for some grasscutter (alas, meat is in short supply sometimes), took a long nap, and finally helped smoke palm trees ("set fire to" means to blow with a small tube to create a sweet palm wine and give it flavor). Coming back, some students were in school when they espied my body removing itself from the bushpath. "Sir! Sir! You've come from the bush!", and they started cheering for me. Good Times. All in all, it was the best day I've had in a long time; I spent exactly zero Ghana cedis and had a fulfilling day.
• A pineapple the size of your head can be bought for about 1 dollar
• The cost of going from Ho, my regional capital to Accra, the national capital costs as little as 5 dollars for a 3 hour ride (compare THAT to Greyhound)
• I bought a knife for 50 cents. Granted, I have someone sharpen it quite often.
• Three tomatoes in the US can go for a dollar, but here its about thirty tomatoes/dollar
• The third-worlds' favorite snack, Obama Biscuits, sells for 15 cents a pack (comes complete with Obama's face on every wrapper!)
• For a mere 7 dollars, a meal can be prepared to feed 6 people handsomely.
With clearout prices like these, its easy to spend next to nothing while here! Especially for you all coming to visit me, prepare to spend more on a plane ticket than you would in a month here! I'm in the village, and essentially the African bush for food perspectives: My rasta-friend brings me avocados gifts every other day or so (usually about 5, but this past time I now have 10 avocados to eat before they all go bad... hello calories!). Speaking of calories, people in my village make some comments like "Kofi! You are becoming large, Africa is good for you!" and "Yevuga" (translation = big white person): understandably, the lack of organized sports (except soccer with 12 year olds) has taken its intended victim, Me. To counteract this balance of power, I purloined some P90X workout videos from a friend to stay in shape. Updates on whether this will have an discernable effect will follow in the future.
I just had a wonderful day the other day: The day after school finished for the term, I went out to the bush at 6am with my rasta-friend. After collecting (and partaking in) some palm-wine, we ate some banku, and later some fufu. Being the middle of nowhere in the bush was incredibly relaxing (minus the bugs). Then we went and collected some avocadoes from an avocado tree, checked a trap for some grasscutter (alas, meat is in short supply sometimes), took a long nap, and finally helped smoke palm trees ("set fire to" means to blow with a small tube to create a sweet palm wine and give it flavor). Coming back, some students were in school when they espied my body removing itself from the bushpath. "Sir! Sir! You've come from the bush!", and they started cheering for me. Good Times. All in all, it was the best day I've had in a long time; I spent exactly zero Ghana cedis and had a fulfilling day.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
US as viewed from Ghana
Good Morning! Or Good Afternoon, or Good evening... these are the structured greetings in place all around Ghana. In your daily lives, think of a time when you said the wrong response to someone's What's Up or How are You. Maybe they said 'How are you' and you reply 'Not Much'. Embarrassing. That doesn't really happen here because its always
A: Good ______, How are you?
B: I'm fine.
The exception is What's Up (people respond "cool" which isn't really addressing the substance of the greeting – I dont know why either). To add some variety I change my intonation to mimic a boxing announcer with a nice GOOOOOOOOD MOOORRRRNINNNG!! Also, if I'm asked how I am, the monotony of 'fine' is too much, so I inject some personality into responses. Let's see:
How are you? I'm beautiful
How are you?
Also, this is the only place where "Yeah" and a wave of the hand is accepted as saying hello.
Today's post is about the US from the Ghanaian perspective. Much like when I was in Europe, many people only have movies and TV shows to tell them about daily life in the US. Except here in the village, where the US only occasionally shows up on the news. Also of note, the US is not the US; its either USA or America. I don't particularly like 'America' because it assumes the US is all of the Americas. Anyway, I was asked a bit ago about what my first language was. I tried to explain that it was English, but the person seemed to think that, much like Ghana, there is a tribal/local language and the national language.
Strange questions or other amusing things include:
*Ghanaian thought process: You have come to Ghana, so you can invite me to the US! The only real way to bring someone back personally [marraige] is not widely believed.
*Have I ever driven a car? (Yes, but people here rarely have a license to drive)
*I owned a car. (G: you mean you had a family car? M: My personal car. G: Why on Earth did you vanquish your family car??)
*What traditional beliefs are there in America? Witches, spirits ancestors? (All 3 are big beliefs here, coexisting with Christian beliefs in the same person; also of note is they read somewhere in print that someone believes in witches in the US, so everyone must believe in witches in the US)
*Where do you get your akpoteshi from? (apoteshi = moonshine)
*Does everyone own a gun? (people react with shock when I tell them I've fired a gun... then they ask 'Have you shot anyone?')
*How do you pound your fufu? (Widespread disbelief when I tell people my country does not have a lot of cassava, yams, plantains, palm trees, or cocoa; fufu is a local food where, contrary to all learned behaviors and Western expectation, you swallow unchewed food) Bonus fact: Instead of using a pizza to teach fractions to my students (dividing it into sections), I used a ball of fufu as an example.
*Do you have a farm in America?
I will say Accra, the capital, is quite different than the villages – akin to comparing NYC and small mountain town of 500 people.
There are a distinct class of locals that think money grows on trees in the US. I try to ask probing questions about who will provide them with funds to start a goat raising operation, and they respond 'The money is there; there are so many donors willing to donate freely'... IMO I dont think its true.
Unfortunately, there is about .5% of the population that either doesn't like foreigners and/or think every white person has a personal printing press of Ghana cedis (local currency) stored in their pockets. These are the people that try and help you for free, then demand 5 cedis after they help you... perhaps they assume that in your civic pride you will feel guilty for not giving them money. I just walk away.
Favorite tidbit from wikipedia on the Coliseum:
Pope Sixtus V (1585–1590) planned to turn the building into a wool factory to provide employment for Rome's prostitutes, though this proposal fell through with his premature death.
Parting Remarks: Sorry about not posting in a while, I've just been enjoying my town quite a bit. Some friends recently uprooted several palm trees (eg. Palm Wine) specifically for me!! I am pumped, especially because my birthday will be coming up soon. To celebrate, we will dine with a certain animal's meat; it may or may not have been a pet at one time.
A: Good ______, How are you?
B: I'm fine.
The exception is What's Up (people respond "cool" which isn't really addressing the substance of the greeting – I dont know why either). To add some variety I change my intonation to mimic a boxing announcer with a nice GOOOOOOOOD MOOORRRRNINNNG!! Also, if I'm asked how I am, the monotony of 'fine' is too much, so I inject some personality into responses. Let's see:
How are you? I'm beautiful
How are you?
Also, this is the only place where "Yeah" and a wave of the hand is accepted as saying hello.
Today's post is about the US from the Ghanaian perspective. Much like when I was in Europe, many people only have movies and TV shows to tell them about daily life in the US. Except here in the village, where the US only occasionally shows up on the news. Also of note, the US is not the US; its either USA or America. I don't particularly like 'America' because it assumes the US is all of the Americas. Anyway, I was asked a bit ago about what my first language was. I tried to explain that it was English, but the person seemed to think that, much like Ghana, there is a tribal/local language and the national language.
Strange questions or other amusing things include:
*Ghanaian thought process: You have come to Ghana, so you can invite me to the US! The only real way to bring someone back personally [marraige] is not widely believed.
*Have I ever driven a car? (Yes, but people here rarely have a license to drive)
*I owned a car. (G: you mean you had a family car? M: My personal car. G: Why on Earth did you vanquish your family car??)
*What traditional beliefs are there in America? Witches, spirits ancestors? (All 3 are big beliefs here, coexisting with Christian beliefs in the same person; also of note is they read somewhere in print that someone believes in witches in the US, so everyone must believe in witches in the US)
*Where do you get your akpoteshi from? (apoteshi = moonshine)
*Does everyone own a gun? (people react with shock when I tell them I've fired a gun... then they ask 'Have you shot anyone?')
*How do you pound your fufu? (Widespread disbelief when I tell people my country does not have a lot of cassava, yams, plantains, palm trees, or cocoa; fufu is a local food where, contrary to all learned behaviors and Western expectation, you swallow unchewed food) Bonus fact: Instead of using a pizza to teach fractions to my students (dividing it into sections), I used a ball of fufu as an example.
*Do you have a farm in America?
I will say Accra, the capital, is quite different than the villages – akin to comparing NYC and small mountain town of 500 people.
There are a distinct class of locals that think money grows on trees in the US. I try to ask probing questions about who will provide them with funds to start a goat raising operation, and they respond 'The money is there; there are so many donors willing to donate freely'... IMO I dont think its true.
Unfortunately, there is about .5% of the population that either doesn't like foreigners and/or think every white person has a personal printing press of Ghana cedis (local currency) stored in their pockets. These are the people that try and help you for free, then demand 5 cedis after they help you... perhaps they assume that in your civic pride you will feel guilty for not giving them money. I just walk away.
Favorite tidbit from wikipedia on the Coliseum:
Pope Sixtus V (1585–1590) planned to turn the building into a wool factory to provide employment for Rome's prostitutes, though this proposal fell through with his premature death.
Parting Remarks: Sorry about not posting in a while, I've just been enjoying my town quite a bit. Some friends recently uprooted several palm trees (eg. Palm Wine) specifically for me!! I am pumped, especially because my birthday will be coming up soon. To celebrate, we will dine with a certain animal's meat; it may or may not have been a pet at one time.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Response to an anti-Ghana article
I am a Peace Corps Volunteer, and one of our goals is to educate Americans about our local culture. I want to address an issue my mother raised with me a few days ago. It seems an article was published in my hometown newspaper about how two men came to Ghana and rescued some children from slavery in Lake Volta, Ghana.
http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2011/02/18/2074161/rescued-from-slavery.html
While I do not dispute their facts, it is impossible to say that this is representative of all of Ghana. I have a student who was living in a fishing village, similar to those boys rescued, but at the age of 10 or so realized education was important. What did he do? He stopped fishing and left the lake. I have never heard of slavery in Ghana outside of this article. Ghanaian and Ghanaian culture have been fantastic to learn about, and while children are required to help around the house, farm, and fish, it is a neccessity in some areas: if the mother is doing chores all day, raising small kids, and the father is out at the farm making money, who will fetch the water? Who will go to the market to buy food? And, most importantly, when the family is spending all its money on food, clothes and shelter, who will pay for school books, pens, and pencils? If there is a choice between food and paper, children here will go and work to make money to purchase a notebook.
As for voodoo here in Ghana, most people I meet are Christian. In fact, I have never met or been involved in a conversation about how traditional beliefs trump monotheism. Muslims in the North (not on Lake Volta) and Christians in the South alike may believe in a small amount, but as a Ghanaian told me, its best not to discount any religion or traditional belief because: it just may be true. Better to play it safe.
The article describes a Ghana that I have never seen, heard, or even knew existed. It is easy for us Westerners to come in and decry "Aha! Kids are doing work! Child Slavery!" and be done with it. To gain a deeper understanding and obtain true meaning, you have to dig below the surface to distinguish simple poverty from slavery. I was extremely distraught to see this article was 'Liked' by many people, and comments were Ameri-centric with disparaging remarks about Africa, Ghana, and the character of people here. If I find a certain part of the US that is involved in sex trafficking, do I decry all Americans, North Americans, and Westerners as enslaving innocent young people for sex? Absolutely not, as there is an overwhelming majority that have decent, moral values and uninvolved in the trade. Ghanaians are similar: a simple, kind people that have a reverance for God (regardless of religion) and enjoy foreigners. I've been extremely happy and welcomed in my time so far here, and look forward to the future in my village. I think the lesson to take away from this article is that there are always two sides to a story, a people, a country, and a continent.Please do some research before making snap judgements about a culture based on a single source.
But let me move onto another topic: March 6th is Independence day for Ghana, and to practice for the parade all the students are doing marching drills for an hour each morning. An hour during school time, which coincidentally, is the entirety of my time teaching mathematics. I scrambled like eggs to get my classes taught and students learned, but for two and a half weeks there is marching. Why not do this marching outside of school? Perhaps I'm not experienced enough in Ghanaian culture to understand the answer, but as a teacher I've been conscripted to join the celebration.
I've been decoding some student names, and having a grand time with it. "God knows I will love him", "God loves", "He loves", "He touches me". He, of course, is God.
Alright, I'm going back to the bush tomorrow, but I do NOT want to see a cobra like last week! Also, as I was typing this my Rasta-man Mensah just came over and gave me two pineapples and three bunches of bananas. Great hospitality.
Also, I wrote a brief expose about the rest of the funeral that happened last month, and it should be just below this post.
http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2011/02/18/2074161/rescued-from-slavery.html
While I do not dispute their facts, it is impossible to say that this is representative of all of Ghana. I have a student who was living in a fishing village, similar to those boys rescued, but at the age of 10 or so realized education was important. What did he do? He stopped fishing and left the lake. I have never heard of slavery in Ghana outside of this article. Ghanaian and Ghanaian culture have been fantastic to learn about, and while children are required to help around the house, farm, and fish, it is a neccessity in some areas: if the mother is doing chores all day, raising small kids, and the father is out at the farm making money, who will fetch the water? Who will go to the market to buy food? And, most importantly, when the family is spending all its money on food, clothes and shelter, who will pay for school books, pens, and pencils? If there is a choice between food and paper, children here will go and work to make money to purchase a notebook.
As for voodoo here in Ghana, most people I meet are Christian. In fact, I have never met or been involved in a conversation about how traditional beliefs trump monotheism. Muslims in the North (not on Lake Volta) and Christians in the South alike may believe in a small amount, but as a Ghanaian told me, its best not to discount any religion or traditional belief because: it just may be true. Better to play it safe.
The article describes a Ghana that I have never seen, heard, or even knew existed. It is easy for us Westerners to come in and decry "Aha! Kids are doing work! Child Slavery!" and be done with it. To gain a deeper understanding and obtain true meaning, you have to dig below the surface to distinguish simple poverty from slavery. I was extremely distraught to see this article was 'Liked' by many people, and comments were Ameri-centric with disparaging remarks about Africa, Ghana, and the character of people here. If I find a certain part of the US that is involved in sex trafficking, do I decry all Americans, North Americans, and Westerners as enslaving innocent young people for sex? Absolutely not, as there is an overwhelming majority that have decent, moral values and uninvolved in the trade. Ghanaians are similar: a simple, kind people that have a reverance for God (regardless of religion) and enjoy foreigners. I've been extremely happy and welcomed in my time so far here, and look forward to the future in my village. I think the lesson to take away from this article is that there are always two sides to a story, a people, a country, and a continent.Please do some research before making snap judgements about a culture based on a single source.
But let me move onto another topic: March 6th is Independence day for Ghana, and to practice for the parade all the students are doing marching drills for an hour each morning. An hour during school time, which coincidentally, is the entirety of my time teaching mathematics. I scrambled like eggs to get my classes taught and students learned, but for two and a half weeks there is marching. Why not do this marching outside of school? Perhaps I'm not experienced enough in Ghanaian culture to understand the answer, but as a teacher I've been conscripted to join the celebration.
I've been decoding some student names, and having a grand time with it. "God knows I will love him", "God loves", "He loves", "He touches me". He, of course, is God.
Alright, I'm going back to the bush tomorrow, but I do NOT want to see a cobra like last week! Also, as I was typing this my Rasta-man Mensah just came over and gave me two pineapples and three bunches of bananas. Great hospitality.
Also, I wrote a brief expose about the rest of the funeral that happened last month, and it should be just below this post.
Funeral, part 2
Continuation of Funeral from a month ago! So on saturday at sunrise people parade around town from the wakening, and then go back to their houses to sleep (staying up all night has its downsides). At 9am (so, 10am Ghana Time) the church service starts for the eulogy and finally burial. Everyone wears their funeral best – meaning black and brown everything. I had a traditional Ewe funeral garb consisting of a fuzzy brown with black spotted fabric, draped about in a toga-esque fashion with the material used for my shirt and short (if spotted in the US in just my shirt and shorts, people ponder which mental asylum I had escaped from). Needless to say, so I will say it anyway, my townsfolk were pumped to see me decked out with a cape and undergarments; all day I heard "Mike! You are looking cute." from all the elders of the town (please remember cute is synonimous with handsome, and English is not the primary language here, and words take a different meaning here). Also, as being the village white person, I attracted a large amount of people from out of town who just wanted to talk to me – I view it as a game. Elders and out-of-towners want to monopolize my time with talk such as "Oh you just relax here in my house until the evening, then I will walk you back", even though it was only 2 in the afternoon. I can't spend 5 hours talking to one person; the game part comes in when I'm trying to leave... hmm which excuse can I give to not give out my phone number, avoid committing myself to visit someone a few hours away next weekend, and still get out of the conversation and back to my Ghanaian family. I digress.
Eulogy/Burial service was nice, even though they didn't talk in English (but in Ewe with a Twi translator). Afterwards, I heard of a buffett being held by some members of the Asafo family and like a ball rolling down a hill I naturally made my way over there with minimal interruptions. I ate one meal that day – and it was HUGE!!! So happy. Fried chicken, jollof (spicy) rice, cole slaw= yummy. During my personal waist enlargement procedure, elders met at my house to drink palm wine and help pay the family for the funeral. Fast Forward to Sunday with a brief recap – I went to my friends house and just relaxed for the night.
Sunday: Thanksgiving church service was at 9, but I had to wash clothes so I didn't go. I took a nap because I had some sweet palm wine (deha vivi in Ewe), but when I came out to go and bucket shower, the church had relocated the entirety of their sound equipment to my house. From 3 until about 7, singing, dancing, and one exceedingly loud keyboard pumped out the gospel jamz in my courtyard area. I ate some fufu during this time at another house, just to get some respite from the constant barrage of musical notes entering my ears.
End of funeral.
One of my students, 12 years old, favorite word is: focking. But he doesn't know what it means, and neither do other Ghanaians. I tried to give a rough estimation of the American English translation (replacing the O with U), but my plan backfired: my students then asked what other words meant: bullsheet, sheet, and damn, to name a few.
Eulogy/Burial service was nice, even though they didn't talk in English (but in Ewe with a Twi translator). Afterwards, I heard of a buffett being held by some members of the Asafo family and like a ball rolling down a hill I naturally made my way over there with minimal interruptions. I ate one meal that day – and it was HUGE!!! So happy. Fried chicken, jollof (spicy) rice, cole slaw= yummy. During my personal waist enlargement procedure, elders met at my house to drink palm wine and help pay the family for the funeral. Fast Forward to Sunday with a brief recap – I went to my friends house and just relaxed for the night.
Sunday: Thanksgiving church service was at 9, but I had to wash clothes so I didn't go. I took a nap because I had some sweet palm wine (deha vivi in Ewe), but when I came out to go and bucket shower, the church had relocated the entirety of their sound equipment to my house. From 3 until about 7, singing, dancing, and one exceedingly loud keyboard pumped out the gospel jamz in my courtyard area. I ate some fufu during this time at another house, just to get some respite from the constant barrage of musical notes entering my ears.
End of funeral.
One of my students, 12 years old, favorite word is: focking. But he doesn't know what it means, and neither do other Ghanaians. I tried to give a rough estimation of the American English translation (replacing the O with U), but my plan backfired: my students then asked what other words meant: bullsheet, sheet, and damn, to name a few.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The Bush!
This post was supposed to finish up my blog about the megafuneral at my house, but I've decided to throw every convention out the window and talk about: THE AFRICAN BUSH!
For those of who don't know or might otherwise misconstrue the word bush, it means anything that is far away from towns, roads, and semblence of civilization. Now, sit down and let me regale you with tales from the Bush.
The first time I went to out, I woke up at 5:30 to meet my friend Gazale, or Rasta-man (the name probably arises out of his religion, Rastafarianism) at his house. We went out to the bush to collect some palm wine (for teetotallers, palm wine in the morning is only about 1-2% alcohol) with a few guys and a hunter, complete with rifle and hunting dogs. I tried my hand at harvesting and setting up the palm wine collections, but it turns out I was only good at standing around and watching the other guys do work. Why standing, do you ask? In fact, walking in the bush is difficult because you have to look where your feet are going, look up to see where you are going, and look around from the dirt path for mushrooms (quite a tasty treat!). I almost fell several times, and ended up with some nicks and cuts on my feet from walking around. After we had collected some palm wine, I saw where they make apoteshi (moonshine), and of course I promised to come back when they were distilling it in a few weeks. As we were returning to town, the hunter's dogs found some grass-cutters, rodents about two feet long that resemble giant rodents of unusual size (ROUS). It was great to see the dogs herd the animals toward the hunter where he shot two dead. Later, they made a stew and invited me over to enjoy it with them. End of Trip 1.
Trip 2 – This trip started the same way; collected palm wine (and by collected I mean I stood there and walked around with them while they did the work), found some mushrooms. I collected some cocoa pods to eat later, ate some palm fruits and bananas. So we were coming back from palm wine watching, and my friends stopped and pointed at a hole. It turns out there was a hole in the ground that they covered with leaves: if the leaves were disturbed the next day, it meant a rat had its den underground there. The rats here are clever; maybe its the tropical climate, but a rat has two entrances to its lair so that if a predator comes through one way the rat runs out the other side. Fine. So the hunter gets a machete and starts digging to find said rat, while the other guys are clearing the area to find the other entrance to the den. They find the other entrance, and the dogs are still sniffing around the hole and trying to dig and find the rat. I should pause here and say that this is not your black stereotypical rat, but a large white rat maybe two feet long including the tail: it provided enough meat for a good size meal for all of us. Back to the story – we finally dug (I watched with rapt attention) enough for Rastaman to cut off a branch and use it to push the rat out of the hole, like a pushrod used on cannons to pack gunpowder. So he's pushing the branch as far as he can and the rest of us gather and gawk at the other end for the rat. Dogs are waiting, ready to pounce; the hunter has his machete's dull edge ready to pummel the rat to death; I'm waiting 5 feet away to see what this suppossed rat looks like. Does the rat come running out to its doom? Nay, my dear children. Instead a black spitting black cobra snakes its way out, hood flared and fangs ready. Everyone, myself included, screamed and ran away into the bush. The video documentary of this would have provided some nice entertainment and showing that yes, in fact, I do get scared – next time I'll bring the camera men.
Later in the day, we found another rat, killed it, at some fufu with rat soup, drank some nice sweet palm wine, then went to sleep like a baby. I think I dreamed of cobras, like Raiders of the Lost Ark-style, but the palm wine and heat make it hard to recall specifics. Needless to say, I will be going back to the bush next weekend if possible!
Live snakes seen: 1
Dead snakes seen: 5
Electronic devices broken in Africa: 3
Average high, according to my thermometer: 94
Rats eaten: 2
For those of who don't know or might otherwise misconstrue the word bush, it means anything that is far away from towns, roads, and semblence of civilization. Now, sit down and let me regale you with tales from the Bush.
The first time I went to out, I woke up at 5:30 to meet my friend Gazale, or Rasta-man (the name probably arises out of his religion, Rastafarianism) at his house. We went out to the bush to collect some palm wine (for teetotallers, palm wine in the morning is only about 1-2% alcohol) with a few guys and a hunter, complete with rifle and hunting dogs. I tried my hand at harvesting and setting up the palm wine collections, but it turns out I was only good at standing around and watching the other guys do work. Why standing, do you ask? In fact, walking in the bush is difficult because you have to look where your feet are going, look up to see where you are going, and look around from the dirt path for mushrooms (quite a tasty treat!). I almost fell several times, and ended up with some nicks and cuts on my feet from walking around. After we had collected some palm wine, I saw where they make apoteshi (moonshine), and of course I promised to come back when they were distilling it in a few weeks. As we were returning to town, the hunter's dogs found some grass-cutters, rodents about two feet long that resemble giant rodents of unusual size (ROUS). It was great to see the dogs herd the animals toward the hunter where he shot two dead. Later, they made a stew and invited me over to enjoy it with them. End of Trip 1.
Trip 2 – This trip started the same way; collected palm wine (and by collected I mean I stood there and walked around with them while they did the work), found some mushrooms. I collected some cocoa pods to eat later, ate some palm fruits and bananas. So we were coming back from palm wine watching, and my friends stopped and pointed at a hole. It turns out there was a hole in the ground that they covered with leaves: if the leaves were disturbed the next day, it meant a rat had its den underground there. The rats here are clever; maybe its the tropical climate, but a rat has two entrances to its lair so that if a predator comes through one way the rat runs out the other side. Fine. So the hunter gets a machete and starts digging to find said rat, while the other guys are clearing the area to find the other entrance to the den. They find the other entrance, and the dogs are still sniffing around the hole and trying to dig and find the rat. I should pause here and say that this is not your black stereotypical rat, but a large white rat maybe two feet long including the tail: it provided enough meat for a good size meal for all of us. Back to the story – we finally dug (I watched with rapt attention) enough for Rastaman to cut off a branch and use it to push the rat out of the hole, like a pushrod used on cannons to pack gunpowder. So he's pushing the branch as far as he can and the rest of us gather and gawk at the other end for the rat. Dogs are waiting, ready to pounce; the hunter has his machete's dull edge ready to pummel the rat to death; I'm waiting 5 feet away to see what this suppossed rat looks like. Does the rat come running out to its doom? Nay, my dear children. Instead a black spitting black cobra snakes its way out, hood flared and fangs ready. Everyone, myself included, screamed and ran away into the bush. The video documentary of this would have provided some nice entertainment and showing that yes, in fact, I do get scared – next time I'll bring the camera men.
Later in the day, we found another rat, killed it, at some fufu with rat soup, drank some nice sweet palm wine, then went to sleep like a baby. I think I dreamed of cobras, like Raiders of the Lost Ark-style, but the palm wine and heat make it hard to recall specifics. Needless to say, I will be going back to the bush next weekend if possible!
Live snakes seen: 1
Dead snakes seen: 5
Electronic devices broken in Africa: 3
Average high, according to my thermometer: 94
Rats eaten: 2
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Second FUNeral
So a few weeks ago there was a funeral in my town. Maybe, thats not quite correct: the funeral was in my house for someone who died about a month prior. Being at the epicenter of the funeral action was an event in itself, especially being the white person in town. So let's begin the recap!
Friday: The body arrived at about 6:30 via ambulance to the town from the morgue. The ambulance stops on the outside of town, to 'ask permission' from the chief to enter the town with a dead person. Also, a large number of people (150?) escorted the remains to our house amidst much (select three of the following) singing/dancing/rejoicing/mourning. Then, the dress the body for viewing. Viewing in America? In the casket. Viewing in Ghana? Well, in order for the person to look as lifelike as possible they put on what appears to be a wedding dress (all white and very large) and sit the person up in a chair like they are still alive!! I wonder how one applies to be a dressing consultant for dead people: is it an inherited profession? The experience of seeing someone upright, clothed, not in a casket, but still very, very dead was like finding out people in Ghana, eating with no utensils, wash their hands with soap and water AFTER they eat – it doesn't make sense to me and in both instances is fairly disturbing. There were viewings from different families coming to pay their respects, but the most interesting part was the aftermath of what I'll call 'Deceased Dressing'.
Tradition here dictates that the body arrives on Friday and buried Saturday, so from when the body arrives in evening until the next morning, they have 'wakening', which is essentially an all-night party of music, food and dancing to keep the corpse company until it is buried... analogous to a going away party, just for a dead person. The music they play is LOUD; I'm talking KISS-concert wattage with a DJ blaring gospel music for 12 hours – in my courtyard. I tried to sleep for a bit from 12 until 6, but in every dream I dreamt I was in either at a bar, or like Inception there was background music warning my dreaming consciousness that I was about to wake up due to ear-drum damage.
Hmm, I won't be able to post all of this in a single day, so to conclude, at dawn on Saturday the party is over. At sunrise everyone left at the party goes and parades around the town with music. In my dream, I dreamt that every living person disappeared and, once again like Inception, I was stuck in a place like limbo where I was the only living person in my dream; I felt very alone so I woke up.
Continuation will occur next week: Same Ghana time, Same Ghana Channel.
You may have noticed me always talking about music. Present everyday (especially Sundays), music may occur from a soccer match, singing at school assembly, church, funerals, weddings, and when the boys from the schools play football (soccer) the girls then proceed to run around the field singing and clapping tunes from church.
Some of my colleagues want me to teach them how to talk like an American, so I've started to use larger words (draconian, ginormous), slang "What's up?" (A common misperception here is the response to "Whats up" is "Cool" – I dont know why either), and interjections of various expletives into my Ghanaian speaking style. Funnily enough, little kids as small as 5 know "sheet", but my students haven't figured out any other bad words through age 18.
Final Notes:
I read "Stiff: The life of human Cadavers" about the same time as my funeral. Great book.
About 60 students from my school were caned (google if unfamiliar) for attending wakening.
Punishments given out by me are now to carry water ¼ mile to my house, on a bucket on their head.
Two other teachers and I ate an entire box of Oreos in one night.
Book Count Since September 15th – 53 books completed. Next up: Animal Farm, 1984, Sphere.
Friday: The body arrived at about 6:30 via ambulance to the town from the morgue. The ambulance stops on the outside of town, to 'ask permission' from the chief to enter the town with a dead person. Also, a large number of people (150?) escorted the remains to our house amidst much (select three of the following) singing/dancing/rejoicing/mourning. Then, the dress the body for viewing. Viewing in America? In the casket. Viewing in Ghana? Well, in order for the person to look as lifelike as possible they put on what appears to be a wedding dress (all white and very large) and sit the person up in a chair like they are still alive!! I wonder how one applies to be a dressing consultant for dead people: is it an inherited profession? The experience of seeing someone upright, clothed, not in a casket, but still very, very dead was like finding out people in Ghana, eating with no utensils, wash their hands with soap and water AFTER they eat – it doesn't make sense to me and in both instances is fairly disturbing. There were viewings from different families coming to pay their respects, but the most interesting part was the aftermath of what I'll call 'Deceased Dressing'.
Tradition here dictates that the body arrives on Friday and buried Saturday, so from when the body arrives in evening until the next morning, they have 'wakening', which is essentially an all-night party of music, food and dancing to keep the corpse company until it is buried... analogous to a going away party, just for a dead person. The music they play is LOUD; I'm talking KISS-concert wattage with a DJ blaring gospel music for 12 hours – in my courtyard. I tried to sleep for a bit from 12 until 6, but in every dream I dreamt I was in either at a bar, or like Inception there was background music warning my dreaming consciousness that I was about to wake up due to ear-drum damage.
Hmm, I won't be able to post all of this in a single day, so to conclude, at dawn on Saturday the party is over. At sunrise everyone left at the party goes and parades around the town with music. In my dream, I dreamt that every living person disappeared and, once again like Inception, I was stuck in a place like limbo where I was the only living person in my dream; I felt very alone so I woke up.
Continuation will occur next week: Same Ghana time, Same Ghana Channel.
You may have noticed me always talking about music. Present everyday (especially Sundays), music may occur from a soccer match, singing at school assembly, church, funerals, weddings, and when the boys from the schools play football (soccer) the girls then proceed to run around the field singing and clapping tunes from church.
Some of my colleagues want me to teach them how to talk like an American, so I've started to use larger words (draconian, ginormous), slang "What's up?" (A common misperception here is the response to "Whats up" is "Cool" – I dont know why either), and interjections of various expletives into my Ghanaian speaking style. Funnily enough, little kids as small as 5 know "sheet", but my students haven't figured out any other bad words through age 18.
Final Notes:
I read "Stiff: The life of human Cadavers" about the same time as my funeral. Great book.
About 60 students from my school were caned (google if unfamiliar) for attending wakening.
Punishments given out by me are now to carry water ¼ mile to my house, on a bucket on their head.
Two other teachers and I ate an entire box of Oreos in one night.
Book Count Since September 15th – 53 books completed. Next up: Animal Farm, 1984, Sphere.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Traveling
Transportation in Ghana is quite different than the United States. For one thing, the country is small that you don't need to fly anywhere. Instead of Greyhound buses like we do in the US, they have tro-tros here, which are like 16-passenger vans that transport people long distances.
First of all, to hail a car when you are by the side of the road you can do one of two things. To hitch a ride (hitch hike), you hold out your hands like taking communion (for catholics) and smack your hands together; this is especially useful on my road, as sometimes there are absolutely no commercial vehicles going by and I can hitch a ride with private vehicles. Or, if you are hailing a taxi in town and want to go a short distance, you point down at the ground with your right hand. Should you want to go a long distance, you point up. Guess where you point to go a medium distance? That's right, you point about shoulder level. BUT, what if there is a fork in the road a little ways down? Easy, simply point the way you want to go at the fork. Sometimes it can get complicated, like if you want to go a long distance but there are two sets of forks in the road. It's really funny to see a person point up, point right, then point left, and repeat frantically attempting to stop an uninsured, twenty year-old rusting tro already sardining 20 people into 15 child-sized seats.
Taxis. They resemble Americans taxis in name only. There are no meters (too expensive), so you have to negotiate a price based on how far you travel. Of course, this assumes you know how far it is, which is really a fallacy since prices are also increased being a white person; one person may give you a ride for 2 cedis while another, after hard bargaining will only go down to 4 cedis -at this point I pretend to huff off to see if they make a final offer... typically to no avail – I continue to walk away. There are also 'line-taxis' that take a predetermined route, but there aren't any maps to see where they go – trial and error works best in this situation. Bargaining is funny – at the airport in Accra, to get there is maybe about 4 cedis from a certain destination, but leaving directly from the airport the taxi driver charge 20 cedis.
United States = Price gouging
Ghana = Leverage
On a more cultural note, there was a funeral in my compound this past weekend. It was planned for months ahead of time so everyone in the family could make it. My landlord (Michael Asafo) is the patriarch of the family, so hundreds of people descended upon my house for a weekend of festivity and mourning. Since it only ended yesterday, I haven't had time to write about it and will post about it in full next blogupdatetime.
First of all, to hail a car when you are by the side of the road you can do one of two things. To hitch a ride (hitch hike), you hold out your hands like taking communion (for catholics) and smack your hands together; this is especially useful on my road, as sometimes there are absolutely no commercial vehicles going by and I can hitch a ride with private vehicles. Or, if you are hailing a taxi in town and want to go a short distance, you point down at the ground with your right hand. Should you want to go a long distance, you point up. Guess where you point to go a medium distance? That's right, you point about shoulder level. BUT, what if there is a fork in the road a little ways down? Easy, simply point the way you want to go at the fork. Sometimes it can get complicated, like if you want to go a long distance but there are two sets of forks in the road. It's really funny to see a person point up, point right, then point left, and repeat frantically attempting to stop an uninsured, twenty year-old rusting tro already sardining 20 people into 15 child-sized seats.
Taxis. They resemble Americans taxis in name only. There are no meters (too expensive), so you have to negotiate a price based on how far you travel. Of course, this assumes you know how far it is, which is really a fallacy since prices are also increased being a white person; one person may give you a ride for 2 cedis while another, after hard bargaining will only go down to 4 cedis -at this point I pretend to huff off to see if they make a final offer... typically to no avail – I continue to walk away. There are also 'line-taxis' that take a predetermined route, but there aren't any maps to see where they go – trial and error works best in this situation. Bargaining is funny – at the airport in Accra, to get there is maybe about 4 cedis from a certain destination, but leaving directly from the airport the taxi driver charge 20 cedis.
United States = Price gouging
Ghana = Leverage
On a more cultural note, there was a funeral in my compound this past weekend. It was planned for months ahead of time so everyone in the family could make it. My landlord (Michael Asafo) is the patriarch of the family, so hundreds of people descended upon my house for a weekend of festivity and mourning. Since it only ended yesterday, I haven't had time to write about it and will post about it in full next blogupdatetime.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Harmattan!
Harmattan! It means that everything is dusty and dry. I have some mountains that are about 2 miles away from me that I can't even see now because there is so much dust in the air. The dust reminds me of an overcast day in the US, except its always overcast and foggy. Its dry - a stream next to my village has completely dried up.
Unfortunately, all of my stuff is covered in dust as well - If I go out to my market town, my pants and shirt look like I decided to roll around in a dirt field for an hour. The upside - its pretty cool here at night and the sun is mild (for Ghana), but the sky is just all gray... there is no blue sky to be seen.
Teaching is just starting up again, so I am really excited to try out new teaching techniques and ways of getting students to care about learning. I went to church for the New Years with Ghanaians, and it was really different. Do they stay up until midnight? Yes. Do they celebrate with friends and family? Yes. Do they stay at home or go out to friend's houses? Neither, in fact Ghanaians all cluster in their churches to bring in the new year. Actually NYE is a larger holiday than Christmas (when no one goes to church unless its Sunday) because EVERYONE goes to church and prays for a successful new year. I think the strangest thing was not going to church, or having a 3 hour long church service, but between 11:30 and midnight, everyone is praying (some silently, some barely audible, some talking loud). No talking from the pastor, except to mark the time (15 minutes left!), and then all of a sudden its HAPPY NEW YEAR! and everyone cheers and breaks out into song and dance. An interesting experience... but one I probably won't redo next year - Ill be watching it on tv!
Days since last rain: ~30 days
Money spent for a 2-egg omelet on toasted bread: ~60 cents
Fuel price increase in one day, as determined by gov't: 20%
Extra ICT classes taught at my house: 20
Unfortunately, all of my stuff is covered in dust as well - If I go out to my market town, my pants and shirt look like I decided to roll around in a dirt field for an hour. The upside - its pretty cool here at night and the sun is mild (for Ghana), but the sky is just all gray... there is no blue sky to be seen.
Teaching is just starting up again, so I am really excited to try out new teaching techniques and ways of getting students to care about learning. I went to church for the New Years with Ghanaians, and it was really different. Do they stay up until midnight? Yes. Do they celebrate with friends and family? Yes. Do they stay at home or go out to friend's houses? Neither, in fact Ghanaians all cluster in their churches to bring in the new year. Actually NYE is a larger holiday than Christmas (when no one goes to church unless its Sunday) because EVERYONE goes to church and prays for a successful new year. I think the strangest thing was not going to church, or having a 3 hour long church service, but between 11:30 and midnight, everyone is praying (some silently, some barely audible, some talking loud). No talking from the pastor, except to mark the time (15 minutes left!), and then all of a sudden its HAPPY NEW YEAR! and everyone cheers and breaks out into song and dance. An interesting experience... but one I probably won't redo next year - Ill be watching it on tv!
Days since last rain: ~30 days
Money spent for a 2-egg omelet on toasted bread: ~60 cents
Fuel price increase in one day, as determined by gov't: 20%
Extra ICT classes taught at my house: 20
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