Accountability is one of the biggest frustrations here. You can see it anywhere you go, from small shops to big corporations to government agencies. One of the most frustrating places is in the small stands on the side of the street and taxi drivers and their inability to produce change. As a foreigner, you take money out of the ATM quite frequently, and it never comes in very small increments. Every week when I take out money it comes out in 10 cedi increments, which would be fine in the US but makes it impossible here. IT IS SO DIFFICULT TO TRY TO BREAK A 10, AND EVEN A 5 HERE. You might as well be broke if all you have is a 10 cedi. And then the frustrating thing is that when you attempt to buy something and the seller can't make change with it, it is presumed to be YOUR FAULT. This is when the issue of accountability comes in. If I'm the consumer, and want to purchase something, it should be the responsibility of the seller to accept my money and give me proper change. Or that's what we're taught in the States. But here, sellers refuse to accept accountability, because essentially there is nothing they can do either.
This translates into much more important issues, like the National Health Insurance plan. Of the 180 districts in Ghana, each has their own health insurance scheme. When they run out of money to reimburse the hospitals and doctors, they petition to the government. This makes sense, but is yet another way of diverting accountability from the source. If each district argues that they should have the authority and sovereignty to create their own program, they should be held accountable for its shortcomings and provide what it claims to provide. If the higher government is unresponsive to the district's petition for funding, then whose fault is it? NO ONE.
So when hospitals and community clinics in smaller and poorer districts of the country aren't being reimbursed for the services they provide to their poor community members, who can they turn to? NO ONE. So rather than being able to pinpoint the source of the dilemma, services are withheld from the patients that need them. Because of this, many Ghanaians who belong to the National Health Insurance program are often rejected JUST FOR BEING A MEMBER, REGARDLESS OF THE KIND OF THE TREATMENT THEY NEED. Therefore, the system created to help them has disadvantaged them.
In addition to issues of payment are resource distribution. While the National Health Insurance program has increased the number of Ghanaians who are able to access the health care they need, nothing has been done to maintain an appropriate ratio between patients and doctors. So a clinic that used to see 10,000 patients a year and now sees 20,000 patients a year as a result of the insurance plan, does not obtain any new doctors, new machines, or new pharmaceuticals. The ratio of doctor to patient becomes even more distorted, and the resources are spread even thinner.
Essentially, the idea for the National Health Insurance program was very progressive and addresses the issue of access, but lacks the proper infrastructure and resource system to support it. So a country like the US, which has a substantially more developed infrastructure for health care should be able to adopt a revised but similar program and make it work right?
Eh.
On a brighter note, I get to see impoverished and very ill Ghanaians come into the clinic I volunteer at and receive the ARVs and other HIV/AIDS treatments they need, which normally cost hundreds and even thousands of dollars, for just 5 cedis a month. Maybe it pays to live in capital region where there is sufficient funding for the insurance program. But if only 1 or 2 regions out of 10, and within those only a couple dozen districts out of 180 can afford to properly conduct the insurance program, how effective is it?
And whose fault is it when it doesn't work?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Ashaiman
I had an amazing day at my internship today. I went with Belinda, my head supervisor, to Ashaiman, about a 20 minute ride away. We visited the Worldwide International Youth Organization, which consisted of a two-room building with an outdoor toilet and about 3 employees. They are an organization working in partnership with WAAF and we supervise their activities and spending. We spoke for a while about the programs they had been working on for the month, which included peer educator programs in schools, community durburs to teach people about HIV/AIDS and how to avoid pregnancy and STIs, distributing condoms to various at risk communities, and offering testing in some of the largest slums in Accra. We spoke about the challenges of getting people to show up to events concerning HIV/AIDS because of the stigma surrounding it, and how difficult it can be to convince people to use condoms. We looked through a bunch of their materials and I came across a booklet that had terribly explicit pictures of sexually transmitted infections and what they looked like on penises. I don't really know how to explain what those pictures were like, but it was heartbreaking knowing that the people with those infections were likely still having sex and spreading it, and had very little chances of getting the medical care they needed. But if you ever want to scare someone out of having sex for the rest of their life, USE THAT BOOKLET.
After we spoke for a while and had lunch together (yams and plantain chips, very nutritious) we walked to the Solidarity School, where the WIYO has established a HIV/AIDS awareness club. We spoke to the French teacher, who is the primary leader of the club, and he told us about how the program was going. At one point he mentioned that he thought the club was very beneficial to the children because many of them felt uncomfortable talking to their parents about issues dealing with sex and diseases. He then told us that last week a child in Form 4 (4th grade) said to him that she had been having sex and she wanted to stop but didn't know how to. Yikes. When Belinda and I talked about it later, we talked about the possibility that she had been assaulted in the home and had either become so accustomed to it that she didn't know how to stop it, or was now voluntarily having sex. Either way, it really shakes up your perception of the innocence of childhood when you hear about children dealing with those issues. I've noticed here that a lot of children grow up incredibly fast, learning to take care of the house before they're 12, caring for their siblings all the time, and selling on the streets in order to make money before they have graduated from elementary school. It's part of the reason why a lot of Ghanaian women always look older than they actually are. I have endless respect for the women here and the things they go through.
After leaving the school we walked to a slum in Ashaiman to speak with the collection of commercial sex workers who live there. I don't think I could have mentally prepared myself for that. The slum was very similar to others I have been in, but as soon as I saw a woman walking by in full blue eye shadow but bright lipstick and very skimpy clothes, I knew that we were in the realm of sex workers. We walked down a back alleyway and immediately saw a string of "houses" (basically rooms with enough room for a bed and a dresser with a television). The women sat outside of their rooms in full make up and skimpy clothes, hoping to seduce men into their rooms. Inside the rooms there was a television where the women would play pornography for the men, and then have sex. The women were shocked to see an obruni, and started chanting at me in Twi, which I pretended to understand and replied with some of the phrases I have learned. They were overjoyed that I knew even the slightest bit of Twi, and one woman came and congratulated me with a handshake and said she would like me to come there all the time and she would teach me Twi. I was surprised by how upbeat they seemed considering their surroundings and their work, but it's obvious that they are so used to the horror of it that all they can do is try to laugh.
As we finished distributing condoms to the women, a man walked into my back from inside one of the rooms, and I moved so he could leave the room. The entire time we had been standing there chatting, I had been leaning on a curtain with a man and a sex worker having sex on the other side. As he opened up the curtain zipping up his pants, we could see the women pulling up her underwear. I think that was the most shocked I had been all day, and I didn't understand how it had been going on less than 5 feet away from us and we were unaware. It has become such a natural thing in that part of the slum.
We walked to the next block of sex workers and found them in much worse shape than the others. The woman closest to the entry way was about 25 and looked about 50, and was lying on her side with a really pained look on her face. Her child sat next to her. The woman had contracted an infection and was unwilling to go to the hospital because she couldn't afford not to work for a day. Belinda explained that her 3-year-old, who sat outside the room and didn't go to school, was usually in the room or right outside when his mother was having sex. I can't even imagine the ideas he is going to grow up with in his head. Belinda and I talked about how much therapy he would need to go through to understand what his childhood had been like, and that he had very little chance of ever getting that help. The WIYO women distributed the condoms and promised to come back on Monday to take the woman to the hospital because she needed to get tested and get treatment for whatever she had. She agreed reluctantly. A woman a few stalls down came out and began complaining that last night a man that had had sex with her had stolen her television, DVD player, cell phone, and all of her money. She had no way of getting her things back and no way of buying new things. The other women were helping to keep her in the housing for another few nights but she was unsure what to do after that.
The way it works is that each woman pays 20 cedis a day to stay in the room. They charge 3 cedis per man to have sex, and therefore have to have sex with AT LEAST 7 MEN in order to come out with any kind of profit. It used to be that there were two separate rates; one for using a condom (which cost less) and one for not using a condom. They had recently established a set rate implying that women would always use condoms, but Belinda explained that if the women were desperate enough they would accept extra money from men who wanted to have sex without a condom. It made me wonder if any of the women knew who their childrens' fathers were. I asked Belinda if any of the women had been tested for HIV, and she said that surprisingly most of the women tested negative. This is probably a result of the new set rate that includes using condoms, but it's difficult to know what other diseases the women could have contracted.
Wow. I wish I had more to say than that but I haven't really figured it out yet. I wanted to write about it before I forgot all the details though.
After leaving the school we walked to a slum in Ashaiman to speak with the collection of commercial sex workers who live there. I don't think I could have mentally prepared myself for that. The slum was very similar to others I have been in, but as soon as I saw a woman walking by in full blue eye shadow but bright lipstick and very skimpy clothes, I knew that we were in the realm of sex workers. We walked down a back alleyway and immediately saw a string of "houses" (basically rooms with enough room for a bed and a dresser with a television). The women sat outside of their rooms in full make up and skimpy clothes, hoping to seduce men into their rooms. Inside the rooms there was a television where the women would play pornography for the men, and then have sex. The women were shocked to see an obruni, and started chanting at me in Twi, which I pretended to understand and replied with some of the phrases I have learned. They were overjoyed that I knew even the slightest bit of Twi, and one woman came and congratulated me with a handshake and said she would like me to come there all the time and she would teach me Twi. I was surprised by how upbeat they seemed considering their surroundings and their work, but it's obvious that they are so used to the horror of it that all they can do is try to laugh.
As we finished distributing condoms to the women, a man walked into my back from inside one of the rooms, and I moved so he could leave the room. The entire time we had been standing there chatting, I had been leaning on a curtain with a man and a sex worker having sex on the other side. As he opened up the curtain zipping up his pants, we could see the women pulling up her underwear. I think that was the most shocked I had been all day, and I didn't understand how it had been going on less than 5 feet away from us and we were unaware. It has become such a natural thing in that part of the slum.
We walked to the next block of sex workers and found them in much worse shape than the others. The woman closest to the entry way was about 25 and looked about 50, and was lying on her side with a really pained look on her face. Her child sat next to her. The woman had contracted an infection and was unwilling to go to the hospital because she couldn't afford not to work for a day. Belinda explained that her 3-year-old, who sat outside the room and didn't go to school, was usually in the room or right outside when his mother was having sex. I can't even imagine the ideas he is going to grow up with in his head. Belinda and I talked about how much therapy he would need to go through to understand what his childhood had been like, and that he had very little chance of ever getting that help. The WIYO women distributed the condoms and promised to come back on Monday to take the woman to the hospital because she needed to get tested and get treatment for whatever she had. She agreed reluctantly. A woman a few stalls down came out and began complaining that last night a man that had had sex with her had stolen her television, DVD player, cell phone, and all of her money. She had no way of getting her things back and no way of buying new things. The other women were helping to keep her in the housing for another few nights but she was unsure what to do after that.
The way it works is that each woman pays 20 cedis a day to stay in the room. They charge 3 cedis per man to have sex, and therefore have to have sex with AT LEAST 7 MEN in order to come out with any kind of profit. It used to be that there were two separate rates; one for using a condom (which cost less) and one for not using a condom. They had recently established a set rate implying that women would always use condoms, but Belinda explained that if the women were desperate enough they would accept extra money from men who wanted to have sex without a condom. It made me wonder if any of the women knew who their childrens' fathers were. I asked Belinda if any of the women had been tested for HIV, and she said that surprisingly most of the women tested negative. This is probably a result of the new set rate that includes using condoms, but it's difficult to know what other diseases the women could have contracted.
Wow. I wish I had more to say than that but I haven't really figured it out yet. I wanted to write about it before I forgot all the details though.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Ugh
So. Getting sick sucks.
I got back from Mole last Monday and felt fine so I went to class the next day. When I came home my roommate was really sick and we decided to take her to the hospital because she had a very high fever and looked terrible. While at the hospital (she eventually found out she had malaria) I started getting chills and went home with a fever. I went to the student clinic the next day, where they told me I had malaria, and sent me to get a blood test at the hospital, WHICH TOOK FOREVER. The blood test for malaria came back negative but I had all the symptoms so they put me on the medication because if it goes untreated it can be really bad. The medicine does terrible things to your stomach and makes it hard to do anything other than lay in bed for days at a time. I was finally at the end of the course of medication when I had dinner with my family, and woke up 6 hours later vomiting.
FOOD POISONING!!!
So fun.
BUT I've been able to watch some fantastic movies and laze around which is something I haven't done since I've been here. Mama and I tried to make it seem like it was just another necessary African experience, but I'm not really seeing it that way yet...
I'll never complain about getting a cold again!!!
I got back from Mole last Monday and felt fine so I went to class the next day. When I came home my roommate was really sick and we decided to take her to the hospital because she had a very high fever and looked terrible. While at the hospital (she eventually found out she had malaria) I started getting chills and went home with a fever. I went to the student clinic the next day, where they told me I had malaria, and sent me to get a blood test at the hospital, WHICH TOOK FOREVER. The blood test for malaria came back negative but I had all the symptoms so they put me on the medication because if it goes untreated it can be really bad. The medicine does terrible things to your stomach and makes it hard to do anything other than lay in bed for days at a time. I was finally at the end of the course of medication when I had dinner with my family, and woke up 6 hours later vomiting.
FOOD POISONING!!!
So fun.
BUT I've been able to watch some fantastic movies and laze around which is something I haven't done since I've been here. Mama and I tried to make it seem like it was just another necessary African experience, but I'm not really seeing it that way yet...
I'll never complain about getting a cold again!!!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The Best Weekend of My Life
This last weekend was by far one of the most amazing of my life. We had been making plans to go to Mole National Park up in northern Ghana for about a month, and when classes were cancelled Monday because of the national holiday for Kwame Nkrumah's birthday, we were able to extend our trip by a day. I don't know HOW we thought we were going to do the entire trip in 3 days originally, because it was still the most ridiculous trip ever in 4 days.
Our trip began on Friday morning at 4 am when our group of 7 met at Okponglo to catch a taxi/tr0-tro to Kaneshie station. When we got to the corner, a man drove up in a wonderful sized car for 7 people and asked if we wanted a ride.. Of course we said yes (sorry Mama!) and he took us to the STC station near Kaneshie market for FREE!! We also cut out about an hour of travel time because he was an absolute speed demon. Originally we were aiming for the 6 am bus, but we got there with just enough time to board the 4:30 bus, and began our 6 hour journey to Kumasi. The bus was wonderful, and AT THE TIME we all complained about how cold it was. That was silly. We had no idea what we had coming.
When we got to Kumasi, we went to the STC ticket counter to buy tickets for the next trip to Tamale. The bus had just left and there were no more for the day. We hadn't planned for that. So we took taxis across town to the MetroMass station and waited in a line of super aggressive, pretty smelly people waiting to buy tickets. They don't let you actually buy the tickets until the bus arrives, so even though we were the first in line, by the time the bus got there we had a bunch of men scrunching against us and pushing us around. EVENTUALLY we got the tickets (after lots of pushing, and sunburning, and frustration, and outbursts by mentally ill men in the market). We boarded the bus, and shortly after a man who had just purchased a chicken from the market got in the row behind us and put his tied up chicken under the seat. So the chicken sat for the entire 7 hour bus ride underneath Leah and Lindsay's seat, pecking at them occasionally and sliding around whenever we hit a bump or went down or uphill. We have tons of great pictures of that. After one of the most uncomfortable bus rides of our lives, we got to Tamale and made it to the Catholic Guesthouse. It was very nice accomadations for just 8 cedi a night, and we went out to dinner at a nice little place called Swab, had a beer and some good food, and then went back to the Guesthouse. OF COURSE at that point the water wasn't working, so we had to bug the hotel attendant to help us out. Not great. Eventually we all got showered and ended our first big day of travel, thinking nothing else could really go wrong.
WRONG. The next day we woke up, had a nutritious breakfast of crackers and bread dipped in peanut butter/spicy almond paste and set out with the man Frederick who had offered to drive us in his tro-tro the night before. We could get to Larabanga for about 30 cedi, but he was probably going to pick up other people on the way. It sounded good so we set off on the 3 hour trip. After about 45 minutes, Freddy pulled over to check the tire pressure, and when he got back in to start the car, it wouldn't start. Because that would be too reasonable. After a few minutes of confused silence, he asked if we can get out and start pushing the tro-tro, to see if he could start it in 2nd gear rather than 1st. So all 7 of us get out of the tro-tro and start pushing it down the highway in the middle of northern Ghana. We got it pretty far before we realized that just wasn't going to work. Freddy then called his "mechanic friend" who said he would come help us. But Freddy wanted to make sure he could find us, so we got out of the tro-tro once again, and began pushing it backwards around the corner we had just pushed it forwards on, so that the mechanic would see us. ????????? After Freddy was satisfied with our location, we walked out into the bush to sit and relax in the shade for a while, and ended up telling riddles and playing games. Ridiculous. Tons of people walked by, looking at the broken down tro-tro, then looking into the bush and seeing 7 obrunis and 1 Ghanaian man.
I guess we thought the mechanic would show up in something like a AAA truck ( I don't know how we got that idea), but about 2 or 3 hours later he showed up on a tro-tro with a small baggy of tools. Cool. He went to work and within 15 minutes had fixed whatever the problem was and we drove to the next little village to drop him off. We figured the trip would get MUCH better after that, but as soon as we got to the next town, about 8 more people piled into the tro-tro (it doesn't fit that many people) and for the rest of the ride we were once again squished in a super hot, dirty bus with a ton of Ghanaians.
When we got to Larabanga to check into the Salia Brothers Hotel, we were slightly surprised by the accomodations. The rooms were pretty basic, but the toilet room consisted of a platform with a hole in it, and the shower room was a room with a bench and a bar of soap on it, and a lone bucket. After the bus ride we had just had I'm not sure we could have handled that. We were told we could sleep on the roof if the weather stayed nice so we considered that a plus and packed up our stuff to go to Mole National Park, about 15 minutes away. When we had all arrived, and after eating lunch next to baboons and warthogs (!!!!!!) we decided to do a canoe safari, and all piled into the back of this adorable man Michael's "wagon type thing" and started on our ride to the lake. We stopped at a small eco-village on the park property to pick up the oars and met some adorable little kids who ran from their huts to greet us, dance for us, and play with our cameras. We have a TON of adorable videos and pictures from that encounter. We then got to the lake and waited for the canoe to arrive after transporting people across the lake. We talked to Michael for a while and he told us that when Obama had come to Ghana this summer he had been able to shake his hand, and how that had been one of the best moments of his life. Very cool.
On the canoe we floated across the river looking at trees and birds. To be honest there wasn't much to look at, and we were hoping for a crocodile but it was the rainy season so the river was overflowed, and crocodiles generally like to stay on the banks and in shallow water. The canoe ride was beautiful though, and we drove back on the wagon to go jump into the swimming pool before it closed. I felt a little guilty about all the sunscreen, bug spray and overall just dirt I put into the swimming pool just by putting my body in it...but decided it was completely worth it. We then found out that the Mole Motel (where we had originally wanted to stay) had an opening, and decided to cancel our reservation at Salia Brothers and move all of our stuff to the park. This was definitely a difficult decision because we had already moved into the Salia place, and had befriended Mr. Salia, who had agreed to help us with transportation back to Tamale once we were done at the park. We called him and explained the situation, and he understood completely and only asked that we pay half of the cost of our reservation, which equaled about 2 cedi each (an amazing deal). After being accompanied yet again by baboons and warthogs for dinner, a few of us went back the Salia Brothers and scooped up all of our stuff and moved back to Mole Motel. After we showered, the 7 of us sat in one of the rooms, drinking a much deserved beer, swatting mosquitoes away and talking for quite a while. End of day 2.
The next day we woke up at 6 am to get to the walking safari, and met with our tour guide to head out. He was the sweetest old man, and had been working at the park for 30 years. He led us all throughout the park, showing us red moneys, baboons, tons of warthogs, antelopes, waterbucks, and other little stuff. Our main goal was an elephant, and we saw a ton of fresh elephant footprints all over the place, but could never find the real thing. Slightly disappointing, but at this point we had decided that the best part of the trip was just getting there.
We ate lunch and packed up our stuff to head back to Larabanga, where we were hoping to catch a ride back to Tamale. This was a little harder than we thought. Most of us had run out of money, and there were no ATMs, so we were a little strapped for how much we could pay to get there. There were a ton of men in the village trying to help us figure out how to get to Tamale, but they all wanted ridiculous amounts of money, so we had to refuse most of their offers. During this whole waiting process, a few of us walked over to the Larabanga mud huts. They were the first mud huts built in Ghana and West Africa, and welcomed over 4,000 people every Friday night to worship. They were absolutely beautiful. We walked through the village to get back and saw dozens of children playing soccer and running around, most looking incredibly malnourished. The guide told us about a Peace Corp worker who had come to Larabanga a few years earlier and built a school. It's hard to see that even if these kids have a school to go to, they still can't get the proper nutrition, and most have all the signs of Kwashiokor. That has definitely been a difficult thing to deal with.
We eventually got on a bus going to Damongo, where were hoping to pick up another bus to go all the way back to Tamale. There were huge arguments surrounding how much we would pay for a bus. We got the impression that only tourists go through that town, so the drivers believed they could rip us off completely and we would have no idea. Not to say that we know that much, but we've been here long enough to know when we're being ripped off and know how to argue it now, which made the process much harder. We had to deal with being ripped off because we had no other options, and eventually paid too much to get back to Tamale. 3 hours later, after being once again smushed in a bus with a ton of Ghanaians, we got back to Tamale and went back to the Catholic Guesthouse. We went out to the same restaurant and had an amazing meal, and a huge conversation about absolutely everything. After showering, we shared a bag of my favorite gummybears and called it a day.
The next morning we got up at about 4:30 to get to the STC station. By now all of us were super dirty, tired, cranky, running low on money, tired of eating crackers, and overall just wanting a nice shower. I think it was amazing how we were all able to acknowledge that despite all of that, it was still one of the best weekends we had ever had and we were really proud of ourselves for sticking it out. We climbed on the bus and 14 hours later arrived in Accra to be bombarded by taxi drivers once again.
It's impossible to describe how ridiculous this weekend was. Nothing worked the way it was supposed to, and everything was so much harder than it needed to be, but it still ended up as the most fun I've had in my entire life. I think we put together an amazing travelling group, and everyone was able to contribute their own bit to the trip. Overall I think we were just all able to suck it up and laugh, which is exactly what you have to be able to do here.
Our trip began on Friday morning at 4 am when our group of 7 met at Okponglo to catch a taxi/tr0-tro to Kaneshie station. When we got to the corner, a man drove up in a wonderful sized car for 7 people and asked if we wanted a ride.. Of course we said yes (sorry Mama!) and he took us to the STC station near Kaneshie market for FREE!! We also cut out about an hour of travel time because he was an absolute speed demon. Originally we were aiming for the 6 am bus, but we got there with just enough time to board the 4:30 bus, and began our 6 hour journey to Kumasi. The bus was wonderful, and AT THE TIME we all complained about how cold it was. That was silly. We had no idea what we had coming.
When we got to Kumasi, we went to the STC ticket counter to buy tickets for the next trip to Tamale. The bus had just left and there were no more for the day. We hadn't planned for that. So we took taxis across town to the MetroMass station and waited in a line of super aggressive, pretty smelly people waiting to buy tickets. They don't let you actually buy the tickets until the bus arrives, so even though we were the first in line, by the time the bus got there we had a bunch of men scrunching against us and pushing us around. EVENTUALLY we got the tickets (after lots of pushing, and sunburning, and frustration, and outbursts by mentally ill men in the market). We boarded the bus, and shortly after a man who had just purchased a chicken from the market got in the row behind us and put his tied up chicken under the seat. So the chicken sat for the entire 7 hour bus ride underneath Leah and Lindsay's seat, pecking at them occasionally and sliding around whenever we hit a bump or went down or uphill. We have tons of great pictures of that. After one of the most uncomfortable bus rides of our lives, we got to Tamale and made it to the Catholic Guesthouse. It was very nice accomadations for just 8 cedi a night, and we went out to dinner at a nice little place called Swab, had a beer and some good food, and then went back to the Guesthouse. OF COURSE at that point the water wasn't working, so we had to bug the hotel attendant to help us out. Not great. Eventually we all got showered and ended our first big day of travel, thinking nothing else could really go wrong.
WRONG. The next day we woke up, had a nutritious breakfast of crackers and bread dipped in peanut butter/spicy almond paste and set out with the man Frederick who had offered to drive us in his tro-tro the night before. We could get to Larabanga for about 30 cedi, but he was probably going to pick up other people on the way. It sounded good so we set off on the 3 hour trip. After about 45 minutes, Freddy pulled over to check the tire pressure, and when he got back in to start the car, it wouldn't start. Because that would be too reasonable. After a few minutes of confused silence, he asked if we can get out and start pushing the tro-tro, to see if he could start it in 2nd gear rather than 1st. So all 7 of us get out of the tro-tro and start pushing it down the highway in the middle of northern Ghana. We got it pretty far before we realized that just wasn't going to work. Freddy then called his "mechanic friend" who said he would come help us. But Freddy wanted to make sure he could find us, so we got out of the tro-tro once again, and began pushing it backwards around the corner we had just pushed it forwards on, so that the mechanic would see us. ????????? After Freddy was satisfied with our location, we walked out into the bush to sit and relax in the shade for a while, and ended up telling riddles and playing games. Ridiculous. Tons of people walked by, looking at the broken down tro-tro, then looking into the bush and seeing 7 obrunis and 1 Ghanaian man.
I guess we thought the mechanic would show up in something like a AAA truck ( I don't know how we got that idea), but about 2 or 3 hours later he showed up on a tro-tro with a small baggy of tools. Cool. He went to work and within 15 minutes had fixed whatever the problem was and we drove to the next little village to drop him off. We figured the trip would get MUCH better after that, but as soon as we got to the next town, about 8 more people piled into the tro-tro (it doesn't fit that many people) and for the rest of the ride we were once again squished in a super hot, dirty bus with a ton of Ghanaians.
When we got to Larabanga to check into the Salia Brothers Hotel, we were slightly surprised by the accomodations. The rooms were pretty basic, but the toilet room consisted of a platform with a hole in it, and the shower room was a room with a bench and a bar of soap on it, and a lone bucket. After the bus ride we had just had I'm not sure we could have handled that. We were told we could sleep on the roof if the weather stayed nice so we considered that a plus and packed up our stuff to go to Mole National Park, about 15 minutes away. When we had all arrived, and after eating lunch next to baboons and warthogs (!!!!!!) we decided to do a canoe safari, and all piled into the back of this adorable man Michael's "wagon type thing" and started on our ride to the lake. We stopped at a small eco-village on the park property to pick up the oars and met some adorable little kids who ran from their huts to greet us, dance for us, and play with our cameras. We have a TON of adorable videos and pictures from that encounter. We then got to the lake and waited for the canoe to arrive after transporting people across the lake. We talked to Michael for a while and he told us that when Obama had come to Ghana this summer he had been able to shake his hand, and how that had been one of the best moments of his life. Very cool.
On the canoe we floated across the river looking at trees and birds. To be honest there wasn't much to look at, and we were hoping for a crocodile but it was the rainy season so the river was overflowed, and crocodiles generally like to stay on the banks and in shallow water. The canoe ride was beautiful though, and we drove back on the wagon to go jump into the swimming pool before it closed. I felt a little guilty about all the sunscreen, bug spray and overall just dirt I put into the swimming pool just by putting my body in it...but decided it was completely worth it. We then found out that the Mole Motel (where we had originally wanted to stay) had an opening, and decided to cancel our reservation at Salia Brothers and move all of our stuff to the park. This was definitely a difficult decision because we had already moved into the Salia place, and had befriended Mr. Salia, who had agreed to help us with transportation back to Tamale once we were done at the park. We called him and explained the situation, and he understood completely and only asked that we pay half of the cost of our reservation, which equaled about 2 cedi each (an amazing deal). After being accompanied yet again by baboons and warthogs for dinner, a few of us went back the Salia Brothers and scooped up all of our stuff and moved back to Mole Motel. After we showered, the 7 of us sat in one of the rooms, drinking a much deserved beer, swatting mosquitoes away and talking for quite a while. End of day 2.
The next day we woke up at 6 am to get to the walking safari, and met with our tour guide to head out. He was the sweetest old man, and had been working at the park for 30 years. He led us all throughout the park, showing us red moneys, baboons, tons of warthogs, antelopes, waterbucks, and other little stuff. Our main goal was an elephant, and we saw a ton of fresh elephant footprints all over the place, but could never find the real thing. Slightly disappointing, but at this point we had decided that the best part of the trip was just getting there.
We ate lunch and packed up our stuff to head back to Larabanga, where we were hoping to catch a ride back to Tamale. This was a little harder than we thought. Most of us had run out of money, and there were no ATMs, so we were a little strapped for how much we could pay to get there. There were a ton of men in the village trying to help us figure out how to get to Tamale, but they all wanted ridiculous amounts of money, so we had to refuse most of their offers. During this whole waiting process, a few of us walked over to the Larabanga mud huts. They were the first mud huts built in Ghana and West Africa, and welcomed over 4,000 people every Friday night to worship. They were absolutely beautiful. We walked through the village to get back and saw dozens of children playing soccer and running around, most looking incredibly malnourished. The guide told us about a Peace Corp worker who had come to Larabanga a few years earlier and built a school. It's hard to see that even if these kids have a school to go to, they still can't get the proper nutrition, and most have all the signs of Kwashiokor. That has definitely been a difficult thing to deal with.
We eventually got on a bus going to Damongo, where were hoping to pick up another bus to go all the way back to Tamale. There were huge arguments surrounding how much we would pay for a bus. We got the impression that only tourists go through that town, so the drivers believed they could rip us off completely and we would have no idea. Not to say that we know that much, but we've been here long enough to know when we're being ripped off and know how to argue it now, which made the process much harder. We had to deal with being ripped off because we had no other options, and eventually paid too much to get back to Tamale. 3 hours later, after being once again smushed in a bus with a ton of Ghanaians, we got back to Tamale and went back to the Catholic Guesthouse. We went out to the same restaurant and had an amazing meal, and a huge conversation about absolutely everything. After showering, we shared a bag of my favorite gummybears and called it a day.
The next morning we got up at about 4:30 to get to the STC station. By now all of us were super dirty, tired, cranky, running low on money, tired of eating crackers, and overall just wanting a nice shower. I think it was amazing how we were all able to acknowledge that despite all of that, it was still one of the best weekends we had ever had and we were really proud of ourselves for sticking it out. We climbed on the bus and 14 hours later arrived in Accra to be bombarded by taxi drivers once again.
It's impossible to describe how ridiculous this weekend was. Nothing worked the way it was supposed to, and everything was so much harder than it needed to be, but it still ended up as the most fun I've had in my entire life. I think we put together an amazing travelling group, and everyone was able to contribute their own bit to the trip. Overall I think we were just all able to suck it up and laugh, which is exactly what you have to be able to do here.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Cape Coast
This last weekend we left Accra and drove to the Central Region of Ghana to Cape Coast. We stayed in a nice hotel overlooking the ocean (!!!) and were all kinda hoping for our first hot showers in a month but most of us didn't get it...
On Saturday the program broke into 2 groups and visited either the Cape Coast or Elmina Castle. I chose to go to the Cape Coast Castle. Both of these historical sites were major slave trade centers during the Transatlantic Slave Trade, and "housed" slaves before they were taken on the ships to the Carribbean, South America, and the "New World." We started in the castle museum, which had displays about early Ghanaians, the rise of European power, and the subsequent slave trade that captured Africans from all areas of western Africa to be brought to designated shipping posts. The museum display that amazed me the most was of the actual chains and shackles used to capture and immobilize slaves as they were brought to the castles and kept there while awaiting deportation. The tour began in a dark dungeon, which housed all the male slaves, sometimes as many as 1,000 at once. Slaves were made to sleep, eat, urinate, and defecate in the same room, often without enough room to sit down. Several feet above the dungeon floor there are security windows, which allowed the guards to spy on the slaves at all times. All human excrements were pushed into a tiny canal that piled up in one of the walls, and at the time created a terrible smell. Conditions were very similar in the female slave dungeon.
The tour guide led us through tunnels that slaves were forced to travel through to the ships that would take them away from Africa, and eventually led us to the "Door of No Return." This is the door that allowed slaves to get from the castle to the ship. When the guide led us into the condemned cell (where slaves were sent to be killed), he showed all of our tour (about 60 people) into the small, suffocatingly hot, and completely dark dungeon, and then turned off the lights. He told us that numerous slaves were taken into the dungeon at a time, and none of the corpses were removed until every last person had died. We spent about 5 minutes in there before everyone wanted to get out, and were told that some slaves had spent several months there.
The setting of the castle is deceiving. It's a beautiful, well-constructed white castle that sits on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean and looks out onto the town of Cape Coast and the boating regions. It's absolutely beautiful. When we travelled to the top of the castle to see the Governor's Office (where women were taken to be sexually assaulted and raped) it was weird to see the amazing quarters he had and his view of the Atlantic. It was completely contradictory to the true nature of the castle, and had a very eery feeling about it.
Following the visit, our program held a debriefing conversation to allow people to talk about their experiences and anything they felt while they were in the castles. The entire group was exhausted by the end but I think everyone took something very meaningful from the experience.
On Sunday we drove to Kakum National Park to do the canopy walks!!! By far one of the best things we've done in Ghana. There are 7 canopy walks probably about 100 feet off of the ground in the middle of the rainforest, and from the walkways you can see miles away. That was definitely an Africa moment, when you realize exactly where you are and how vast and beautiful it is. The adrenalin during that walk was amazing, and we even got to see a monkey running through the trees. We have some ridiculous pictures!
This weekend a bunch of us are making the looonng trip up to Mole National Park to see the elephants!!! (and a ton of other animals but I'm really excited about the elephants!!!) I'm trying to avoid all the transportation of coming home and just pick one up and ride it back to Accra. I hope that works.
*** I just read a travel warning that said that warthogs often raid the trash cans at the campsites, so we should be careful about the food we discard. AHHHHH THAT'S AMAZING!!!
On Saturday the program broke into 2 groups and visited either the Cape Coast or Elmina Castle. I chose to go to the Cape Coast Castle. Both of these historical sites were major slave trade centers during the Transatlantic Slave Trade, and "housed" slaves before they were taken on the ships to the Carribbean, South America, and the "New World." We started in the castle museum, which had displays about early Ghanaians, the rise of European power, and the subsequent slave trade that captured Africans from all areas of western Africa to be brought to designated shipping posts. The museum display that amazed me the most was of the actual chains and shackles used to capture and immobilize slaves as they were brought to the castles and kept there while awaiting deportation. The tour began in a dark dungeon, which housed all the male slaves, sometimes as many as 1,000 at once. Slaves were made to sleep, eat, urinate, and defecate in the same room, often without enough room to sit down. Several feet above the dungeon floor there are security windows, which allowed the guards to spy on the slaves at all times. All human excrements were pushed into a tiny canal that piled up in one of the walls, and at the time created a terrible smell. Conditions were very similar in the female slave dungeon.
The tour guide led us through tunnels that slaves were forced to travel through to the ships that would take them away from Africa, and eventually led us to the "Door of No Return." This is the door that allowed slaves to get from the castle to the ship. When the guide led us into the condemned cell (where slaves were sent to be killed), he showed all of our tour (about 60 people) into the small, suffocatingly hot, and completely dark dungeon, and then turned off the lights. He told us that numerous slaves were taken into the dungeon at a time, and none of the corpses were removed until every last person had died. We spent about 5 minutes in there before everyone wanted to get out, and were told that some slaves had spent several months there.
The setting of the castle is deceiving. It's a beautiful, well-constructed white castle that sits on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean and looks out onto the town of Cape Coast and the boating regions. It's absolutely beautiful. When we travelled to the top of the castle to see the Governor's Office (where women were taken to be sexually assaulted and raped) it was weird to see the amazing quarters he had and his view of the Atlantic. It was completely contradictory to the true nature of the castle, and had a very eery feeling about it.
Following the visit, our program held a debriefing conversation to allow people to talk about their experiences and anything they felt while they were in the castles. The entire group was exhausted by the end but I think everyone took something very meaningful from the experience.
On Sunday we drove to Kakum National Park to do the canopy walks!!! By far one of the best things we've done in Ghana. There are 7 canopy walks probably about 100 feet off of the ground in the middle of the rainforest, and from the walkways you can see miles away. That was definitely an Africa moment, when you realize exactly where you are and how vast and beautiful it is. The adrenalin during that walk was amazing, and we even got to see a monkey running through the trees. We have some ridiculous pictures!
This weekend a bunch of us are making the looonng trip up to Mole National Park to see the elephants!!! (and a ton of other animals but I'm really excited about the elephants!!!) I'm trying to avoid all the transportation of coming home and just pick one up and ride it back to Accra. I hope that works.
*** I just read a travel warning that said that warthogs often raid the trash cans at the campsites, so we should be careful about the food we discard. AHHHHH THAT'S AMAZING!!!
Visiting the slums
Last week was by far the most mentally exhausting. During my internship last Monday, Maria (my supervisor), Fifi, and I drove to 2 schools located in the Accra area. At the first school we spoke to Frank and told him about the girl we are sponsoring to attend his school. When we visit these schools we're instructed not to say we are from the West African AIDS Foundation, but rather the International Health Care Center, so as to avoid any stigma or discrimination towards the kids. When I was told this on the ride there they told me of times in the past when school administrators found out that some of the kids we sponsor are HIV positive, or even just associated with an AIDS foundation, and immediately kicked them out, or created restrictions on their activities and interactions with the other children. It was crazy to me that there could be so much hostility directed at a child that, by no act of their own, had contracted the disease. It's as if the mistakes, or even similar situations, of their parents were a determinant for how they would be treated. After the first visit we travelled to the second school. It's so interesting getting from place to place here because all of these locations rarely have an address. Most organizations, schools, houses, etc are denoted by a P.O. Box and a neighborhood region, which tells you little to nothing about where it is. The process of finding these schools is usually driving to the region and then asking various people where the school is, often getting completely different directions from different people. Yikes.
On Thursday, Maria, Fifi and I drove across town to visit an Islamic school located in Zongo, which is the predominantely Muslim slum in Accra. The school was in the middle of the slum, so we walked through nearly the entire thing to reach it, seeing all the houses, people, and little shops. I have never seen poverty like that, even in Ghana. It amazed me how most of the houses were seperated by only half a foot of space, each house approximately the size of my bedroom, but housing around 10 people. No electricity, no running water, and communal bathrooms that act as a breeding ground for disease and harassment. And the people all looked so happy. The children here are amazing in the way they seem to be able to ignore so many circumstances and find ways to just be children. They play soccer with rolled up socks, play games I would never have been creative enough to make up, and run around the smallest and most confined areas as if they were wide open fields. I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of the kids living in these slums are happier than many of the children in the US, who have access to nearly everything they need. It's just a completely different emphasis in life, and materials are just so immaterial.
At the school we met Luwisatu, who is a very shy girl who hid behind the legs of her mother as she spoke to me about what she likes to do in school. I told her that I would be visiting her at school every couple of weeks to hang out, see how school is going, make sure she has everything she needs, and to talk to her teachers about her progress. She said almost nothing as I talked to her, but when I left she ran up and gave me a huge hug, and smiled and waved as I left. I don't really know how to describe what that feels like.
We visited another slum a few miles away that I think is referred to as Adabraker. We met with Sadik, who lost both of his parents to AIDS and is now living with his aunt and his 9 cousins. There were 12 people living in his house, so he spends the majority of his time hanging out with his friends on the makeshift soccer field and fixing electronics. He has never liked school, and as of late hasn't been putting in the necessary energy for the organization to feel good about investing in him. I sat and talked to him about what he likes to do outside of school, and he said he loves fixing computers and televisions, etc. We then spoke to his aunt, who said he was acting up around the house and refusing to eat the food she makes. We told Sadik that it's completely fine that he wants to work in electronics, but that he has very little future in it if he doesn't at least have his basic degree. As somewhat of an incentive, he was told that if he can keep his grades up until he graduates in 4 years, the organization would consider paying for his technical school so he could be a certified electronic repairman. We got little response from his as well, but so it's always hard to know how much you're getting through to someone.
I think I really lucked out with this internship. I had no idea what I was getting into, but after hearing about how other people in my program are writing grants, doing data entry, or aren't given any actual tasks, I think I'm spending my time in the best possible way.
On Thursday, Maria, Fifi and I drove across town to visit an Islamic school located in Zongo, which is the predominantely Muslim slum in Accra. The school was in the middle of the slum, so we walked through nearly the entire thing to reach it, seeing all the houses, people, and little shops. I have never seen poverty like that, even in Ghana. It amazed me how most of the houses were seperated by only half a foot of space, each house approximately the size of my bedroom, but housing around 10 people. No electricity, no running water, and communal bathrooms that act as a breeding ground for disease and harassment. And the people all looked so happy. The children here are amazing in the way they seem to be able to ignore so many circumstances and find ways to just be children. They play soccer with rolled up socks, play games I would never have been creative enough to make up, and run around the smallest and most confined areas as if they were wide open fields. I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of the kids living in these slums are happier than many of the children in the US, who have access to nearly everything they need. It's just a completely different emphasis in life, and materials are just so immaterial.
At the school we met Luwisatu, who is a very shy girl who hid behind the legs of her mother as she spoke to me about what she likes to do in school. I told her that I would be visiting her at school every couple of weeks to hang out, see how school is going, make sure she has everything she needs, and to talk to her teachers about her progress. She said almost nothing as I talked to her, but when I left she ran up and gave me a huge hug, and smiled and waved as I left. I don't really know how to describe what that feels like.
We visited another slum a few miles away that I think is referred to as Adabraker. We met with Sadik, who lost both of his parents to AIDS and is now living with his aunt and his 9 cousins. There were 12 people living in his house, so he spends the majority of his time hanging out with his friends on the makeshift soccer field and fixing electronics. He has never liked school, and as of late hasn't been putting in the necessary energy for the organization to feel good about investing in him. I sat and talked to him about what he likes to do outside of school, and he said he loves fixing computers and televisions, etc. We then spoke to his aunt, who said he was acting up around the house and refusing to eat the food she makes. We told Sadik that it's completely fine that he wants to work in electronics, but that he has very little future in it if he doesn't at least have his basic degree. As somewhat of an incentive, he was told that if he can keep his grades up until he graduates in 4 years, the organization would consider paying for his technical school so he could be a certified electronic repairman. We got little response from his as well, but so it's always hard to know how much you're getting through to someone.
I think I really lucked out with this internship. I had no idea what I was getting into, but after hearing about how other people in my program are writing grants, doing data entry, or aren't given any actual tasks, I think I'm spending my time in the best possible way.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Internship!
I began my internship on Tuesday at the West Africa AIDS Foundation. It is partnered with the International Health Care Center (IHCC) and consists of the NGO and the clinic. I met Belinda, my supervisor, and she took me on a tour of the facility. The NGO is like most typical offices in Ghana, while the clinic is pretty much straight out of the movies of hospital wings in the 1950's. It used to be a hospice but due to the increased availability of HIV/AIDS medications to Africa in the last decade, they have worked hard to make all their patients self-sufficient and able to live in a home.
I work specifically under Maria, is a Dutch woman who moved to Ghana 26 years ago to be with her husband and has recently started working at WAAF. She is the Clinic Manager, but also supervises my project, which is called OVC (Orphans and Vulnerable Children). The program has 29 children, ages 2-16, both HIV positive and negative. It was created to help serve the "vulnerables," who are children that have lost one or both parents to HIV/AIDS. Many of these children became infected with HIV through birth, and since have been displaced as a result of their parent's inability to care for them. The program offers the children school supplies, pays their tuition, distributes basic food supplies, provides medication (for both HIV and other diseases) and acts as an overall counseling center.
My primary job will be to create detailed profiles of each of the children (age, school attended, HIV status, primary caregivers, academic strengths and weaknesses, and any other relevant information). Every week I will be travelling to different schools within Accra (most likely by tro-tro) in order to check in with the kids, speak to their teachers about their progress, receive reports from the headmasters, and make sure they have all the necessary supplies. I'll also be in charge of going to the markets and purchasing the school supplies, including cloth to make school uniforms. The cloth will then be brought to the Almond Tree, which is a small shop on the WAAF premises that offers the patients a business to sell their products (jewelery, clothes) from.
Wow.
I am so grateful that I am in a position to do both administrative and client based services. It's interesting to watch the systems they have come up with and also watch how these decisions affect the patients. It should be an amazing experience, and I'll be able to do a lot of travelling in Accra in the meantime!
This weekend I am attending the funeral of a Ghanaian friend's father. On Sunday the Ghana Black Stars (national soccer team) are playing Sudan and we have found tickets to go! I can't even imagine how raucous that is going to be. I'll attempt to put pictures up of the craziness soon!
I work specifically under Maria, is a Dutch woman who moved to Ghana 26 years ago to be with her husband and has recently started working at WAAF. She is the Clinic Manager, but also supervises my project, which is called OVC (Orphans and Vulnerable Children). The program has 29 children, ages 2-16, both HIV positive and negative. It was created to help serve the "vulnerables," who are children that have lost one or both parents to HIV/AIDS. Many of these children became infected with HIV through birth, and since have been displaced as a result of their parent's inability to care for them. The program offers the children school supplies, pays their tuition, distributes basic food supplies, provides medication (for both HIV and other diseases) and acts as an overall counseling center.
My primary job will be to create detailed profiles of each of the children (age, school attended, HIV status, primary caregivers, academic strengths and weaknesses, and any other relevant information). Every week I will be travelling to different schools within Accra (most likely by tro-tro) in order to check in with the kids, speak to their teachers about their progress, receive reports from the headmasters, and make sure they have all the necessary supplies. I'll also be in charge of going to the markets and purchasing the school supplies, including cloth to make school uniforms. The cloth will then be brought to the Almond Tree, which is a small shop on the WAAF premises that offers the patients a business to sell their products (jewelery, clothes) from.
Wow.
I am so grateful that I am in a position to do both administrative and client based services. It's interesting to watch the systems they have come up with and also watch how these decisions affect the patients. It should be an amazing experience, and I'll be able to do a lot of travelling in Accra in the meantime!
This weekend I am attending the funeral of a Ghanaian friend's father. On Sunday the Ghana Black Stars (national soccer team) are playing Sudan and we have found tickets to go! I can't even imagine how raucous that is going to be. I'll attempt to put pictures up of the craziness soon!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Police Adventures
We had some exciting/funny experiences with the police this weekend...
On Saturday, we drove up to Aburi Gardens, passing by Bob Marley's wife's house (!!!), stopping in a wood carving village to watch how everything is done and then exploring and buying crazy gifts, visiting the first cocoa plantation in Ghana, and finally touring the botanical gardens. The trip was amazing, and it was great to get out of the city and see more green than red and brown. As we drove back from the trip, traffic was slowed as we passed one of the many police checkpoints you see in Ghana (I still can't really figure out what they're looking for; Ghanaians have told me guns, drugs, criminals, etc.). Being the tourists that we are, one of the people in my program was taking pictures out the window of the bus at a small child waving, and the police immediately pulled us over and yelled at the driver. One of the program guides grabbed the camera and went outside to talk to the policeman, who claimed that we were taking pictures of the police (which is apparently illegal) and insisted that he confiscate the camera. The guide flipped through the pictures, proving that we were not taking pictures of the police, but rather of the children, and the policeman still insisted he take the camera. This resulted in a lot of yelling and crazy gestures, which eventually ended with something holding our program guide back from the policeman and pushing him back in the van. After that, we were allowed to go.
It's weird to be surrounded by police that believe bribery to be a completely normal part of life. At any given police check, you can be pulled over, told there is something illegal in your car (even if there isn't) and charged cash money on the spot to avoid anymore trouble. It's pretty unsettling, and kind of a double edged sword for white people. While they know that foreigners are too afraid to resist the police or commit any crime (for fear of ending up in jail without a fair trial), they also know that most foreigners come from countries where police bribery is strictly forbidden, and that they are unlikely to hand money over willingly.
It happened again on Saturday night when Ama, a Ghanaian friend of ours, took us to a Chinese restaurant. When we made a wrong turn, we ended up in a heavily guarded parking lot, and were immediately pulled over. They asked for the driver's license, which (sorry Mom!) she doesn't have. They weren't speaking in English, so I'm not sure exactly what was said, but when they realized she would not produce the license, they demanded she give them money. In the car, Mallory, Julie, Lindsay and I are stressing out because in the States if you don't have a license you are in a ton of trouble. However, Ama was able to convince the officers that she shouldn't have to pay them, and we drove off with them in a huff. Ama laughed about the whole thing, and told us that the man that had pulled us over was a "baby police" and he was just trying to feel big and important. About 5 minutes later the whole situation was funny, but in the car not so much. I'm guessing we can probably expect a lot more experiences like that in the future.
I've started taking more pictures of my house and family, so once I can put pictures up on Wednesday I'll be sending them out!
On Saturday, we drove up to Aburi Gardens, passing by Bob Marley's wife's house (!!!), stopping in a wood carving village to watch how everything is done and then exploring and buying crazy gifts, visiting the first cocoa plantation in Ghana, and finally touring the botanical gardens. The trip was amazing, and it was great to get out of the city and see more green than red and brown. As we drove back from the trip, traffic was slowed as we passed one of the many police checkpoints you see in Ghana (I still can't really figure out what they're looking for; Ghanaians have told me guns, drugs, criminals, etc.). Being the tourists that we are, one of the people in my program was taking pictures out the window of the bus at a small child waving, and the police immediately pulled us over and yelled at the driver. One of the program guides grabbed the camera and went outside to talk to the policeman, who claimed that we were taking pictures of the police (which is apparently illegal) and insisted that he confiscate the camera. The guide flipped through the pictures, proving that we were not taking pictures of the police, but rather of the children, and the policeman still insisted he take the camera. This resulted in a lot of yelling and crazy gestures, which eventually ended with something holding our program guide back from the policeman and pushing him back in the van. After that, we were allowed to go.
It's weird to be surrounded by police that believe bribery to be a completely normal part of life. At any given police check, you can be pulled over, told there is something illegal in your car (even if there isn't) and charged cash money on the spot to avoid anymore trouble. It's pretty unsettling, and kind of a double edged sword for white people. While they know that foreigners are too afraid to resist the police or commit any crime (for fear of ending up in jail without a fair trial), they also know that most foreigners come from countries where police bribery is strictly forbidden, and that they are unlikely to hand money over willingly.
It happened again on Saturday night when Ama, a Ghanaian friend of ours, took us to a Chinese restaurant. When we made a wrong turn, we ended up in a heavily guarded parking lot, and were immediately pulled over. They asked for the driver's license, which (sorry Mom!) she doesn't have. They weren't speaking in English, so I'm not sure exactly what was said, but when they realized she would not produce the license, they demanded she give them money. In the car, Mallory, Julie, Lindsay and I are stressing out because in the States if you don't have a license you are in a ton of trouble. However, Ama was able to convince the officers that she shouldn't have to pay them, and we drove off with them in a huff. Ama laughed about the whole thing, and told us that the man that had pulled us over was a "baby police" and he was just trying to feel big and important. About 5 minutes later the whole situation was funny, but in the car not so much. I'm guessing we can probably expect a lot more experiences like that in the future.
I've started taking more pictures of my house and family, so once I can put pictures up on Wednesday I'll be sending them out!
Friday, August 28, 2009
My Address
Alright I've finally figured out the OFFICIAL address you can send mail/packages to if you are so inclined...
Hilary Armstrong c/o Kwasi Gyasi-Gyamerah
Private Mail Bag 31
University of Ghana
Legon, Ghana
West Africa
No pressure or anything..but candy, granola, bars, and trail mix are greatly appreciated :-)
Hilary Armstrong c/o Kwasi Gyasi-Gyamerah
Private Mail Bag 31
University of Ghana
Legon, Ghana
West Africa
No pressure or anything..but candy, granola, bars, and trail mix are greatly appreciated :-)
Ghanaian Families
So for the past few weeks I've been trying to figure out the way family trees work around here. In my house there is a huge assortment of relatives, some siblings, cousins, aunties, uncles, etc. But I could never figure it all out. A bunch of people from my program went out to our favorite bar, Jerry's, last night and I finally got a bit more of an answer to the way families work. I spent most of the night talking to my host brother, Alex, who just graduated from the University of Ghana and is living with us until he goes off to graduate school is the US next year. I asked him about the two little girls living at the house, Stephanie and Pookie, who I know to be sisters. The other day I found out that a woman who comes to visit almost every night, Edith, is their mom, and she lives about a 20 minute walk from our house. I asked why the girls don't live with their mom, and he explained that she works late hours, and the girls would be lonely if they lived at the house. So the mom moved them into their grandmother's house a few minutes away, and now she just goes to visit every night for a bit. That still seems a little weird to me but it's all part of their concept of extended family.
Apparently, when a child is born they are immediately placed in a network of moms, dads, aunties, uncles, and grandparents. It becomes pretty irrelevant who their biological parents are, because each older person acts as a parental figure. The way Stephanie and Pookie see it, they don't just belong to their mom, they belong to their 20 something aunties, uncles, and cousins, and it doesn't really matter that they see them more often than their actual parents.
I asked Alex about his situation, and he said he had met his mom briefly when he was 12, and saw his dad maybe once every 2 weeks. He has always lived with grandparents, and because of it has been able to lead a very stable life and graduate from the university. His parents knew that they would not be able to provide the same life for him in the village, and therefore had no qualms about sending him away to be with his wealthier grandparents (the parents we live with). I asked if he ever felt abandoned and he seemed confused, not sure how he could feel that way if he had so many people around him that loved him.
It's a different way of looking at things and it's really refreshing. I don't know that it could ever be like that in the US because of the notions of marriage and nuclear families that are so ingrained in everyone's minds, but it seems slightly more functional than a lot of the relationships I see at home.
On another note...everything here is great! We are going on our first day trip tomorrow to Aburi Gardens, taking a tour of the botanical gardens, a cocoa farm, and a wood carving factory. It should be really fun and I'm looking forward to getting out of the city for a day. Hopefully I'll figure out how to put some picture up!
Apparently, when a child is born they are immediately placed in a network of moms, dads, aunties, uncles, and grandparents. It becomes pretty irrelevant who their biological parents are, because each older person acts as a parental figure. The way Stephanie and Pookie see it, they don't just belong to their mom, they belong to their 20 something aunties, uncles, and cousins, and it doesn't really matter that they see them more often than their actual parents.
I asked Alex about his situation, and he said he had met his mom briefly when he was 12, and saw his dad maybe once every 2 weeks. He has always lived with grandparents, and because of it has been able to lead a very stable life and graduate from the university. His parents knew that they would not be able to provide the same life for him in the village, and therefore had no qualms about sending him away to be with his wealthier grandparents (the parents we live with). I asked if he ever felt abandoned and he seemed confused, not sure how he could feel that way if he had so many people around him that loved him.
It's a different way of looking at things and it's really refreshing. I don't know that it could ever be like that in the US because of the notions of marriage and nuclear families that are so ingrained in everyone's minds, but it seems slightly more functional than a lot of the relationships I see at home.
On another note...everything here is great! We are going on our first day trip tomorrow to Aburi Gardens, taking a tour of the botanical gardens, a cocoa farm, and a wood carving factory. It should be really fun and I'm looking forward to getting out of the city for a day. Hopefully I'll figure out how to put some picture up!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Back to the basics...
So apparently I'm the only person who doesn't have a blog and also isn't writing in a journal. All the pressure to document everything that happens is finally getting to me, so here it is!
I arrived in Ghana on Saturday August 8th and spent my first night alone in the Salvation Army Hostel. I met some amazing girls from Canada and England who had been volunteering in Ghana for about 3 months and they took me under their wing and showed me all the cute places to eat and hang out in Osu. The hostel was slightly less sanitary and equipped than I am acustomed to in the US, so that was a quick adjustment.
The next day I took a cab ride (and bargained down the price!) to the Coconut Grove Regency Hotel, which was the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of the hostel. Air conditioning, hot showers, television, and wireless internet. It was like going to Ghana for one night and then going back to the US for the next 2 nights. Most people had just arrived so their first experience was with that hotel, and I felt slightly ahead for having experienced what I did. We spent the next few days at the hotel doing orientation activities, and that following Tuesday we drove to the University of Ghana, registered as international students, and went to our homestays. Immediately I met my host parents, Grace and Charlie, and soon after met the assortment of 6 to 10 siblings/cousins/other relatives that rotate in and out of my house on a regular basis. Currently there are about 13 people living in our house, so needless to say I am never alone and there is always someone to hang out with.
I share a room in the house with Gwen, a girl from Boston who goes to Colorado College. We each have queen size beds and our own dresser, with our own bathroom. I must say that when I first got to the house I was incredibly surprised at how nice it was, and was nervous that I wouldn't get the kind of experience I was thinking I would. You quickly realize that Ghana isn't all about having dirt floors and no running water, and that it has so much more to do with the attitude, the language, the food, and the family.
We walk to the university every day, about a 30 minute walk. It feels like it gets shorter every day. Along the walk we pass at least 100 small stores, with grocery supplies, automobile parts, small goodies, and small children running around. We greet nearly everyone, either with "Good morning," "Hello" or a wave and are usually greeted with a huge smile. Generally you hear the word "Obruni," meaning white person, but it isn't used in a derogatory fashion, and just takes time to get used to. Along the way we probably see about 60 cabs and tro-tros, each honking to see if we want a ride (because Americans are generally perceived to be useless and therefore can't walk).
At the university, all the students are very well dressed, most of the men wearing dress shirts and ties, while the women wear modest yet beautiful clothes. They are by far the best dressed people I have ever met, and constantly put us Americans to shame in our clothing choices. The food is very cheap and mosly delicious, costing less than the equivalent of 50 cents for a full meal of vegetables, rice, and chicken. Another staple in the Ghanaian diet is Milo, the equivalent of hot chocolate, and quickly my favorite habit.
The food is delicious, though very spicy. Most meals consist of spicy rice (when mixed with meat and vegetables it is called jollof), chicken, plantains, and banku. Banku is a dough that is dipped in soup and swallowed whole, and took me quite a while to get used to. We have also recently discovered FanIce, an amazing ice cream that comes in several flavors (unfortunately not chocolate chip cookie dough). We're trying very hard to halt the addiction to this new discovery.
We've been to a few markets, which are the most overwhelming experiences yet. They are jam packed with hundreds of vendors selling all kinds of goods, each yelling at you to visit their shop. If you finally do decide to buy something, it then becomes a game of bargaining, where they offer a price (usually way above actual price because you are a foreigner and they think they can trick you) and you must politely yet aggressively bargain, sometimes cutting the price by as much as half. It can be super stressful, but we are told that vendors expect us to bargain. It's difficult sometimes though trying to reduce the price, knowing that they need the money a lot more than I do. But I knew coming on this trip that there was going to be alot of guilt associated with it.
On to the fun stuff, the clubs and bars here are hilarious. We live down the street from Jerry's, a bar that's open every night blasting Ghanaian and American music. Jerry is amazing, and immediately befriended us and treats us like his daughters. On my runs in the morning I often go by the bar, and he waves and shouts hello every time. We've also gone to some bars in Osu, an amazing bar on the beach, and the most ridiculous circus strip club looking bar called the Roxbury. It's actually modeled after the club from the Night at the Roxbury, and we had one of the most ridiculous nights there this last Saturday. The previous night, we had been invited to the birthday party for the former Miss Ghana 2000, which took place at her house, and was yet another unforgettable Ghanaian experience.
Alright, now that I've given the basics I can start talking about all the hilarious stuff that happens here as it happens. My internet is failing on me, so I'll have to save it for another day, but I hope this answered alot of the questions from emails I've been getting.
Bottom line: I'm having an amazing time!
I arrived in Ghana on Saturday August 8th and spent my first night alone in the Salvation Army Hostel. I met some amazing girls from Canada and England who had been volunteering in Ghana for about 3 months and they took me under their wing and showed me all the cute places to eat and hang out in Osu. The hostel was slightly less sanitary and equipped than I am acustomed to in the US, so that was a quick adjustment.
The next day I took a cab ride (and bargained down the price!) to the Coconut Grove Regency Hotel, which was the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of the hostel. Air conditioning, hot showers, television, and wireless internet. It was like going to Ghana for one night and then going back to the US for the next 2 nights. Most people had just arrived so their first experience was with that hotel, and I felt slightly ahead for having experienced what I did. We spent the next few days at the hotel doing orientation activities, and that following Tuesday we drove to the University of Ghana, registered as international students, and went to our homestays. Immediately I met my host parents, Grace and Charlie, and soon after met the assortment of 6 to 10 siblings/cousins/other relatives that rotate in and out of my house on a regular basis. Currently there are about 13 people living in our house, so needless to say I am never alone and there is always someone to hang out with.
I share a room in the house with Gwen, a girl from Boston who goes to Colorado College. We each have queen size beds and our own dresser, with our own bathroom. I must say that when I first got to the house I was incredibly surprised at how nice it was, and was nervous that I wouldn't get the kind of experience I was thinking I would. You quickly realize that Ghana isn't all about having dirt floors and no running water, and that it has so much more to do with the attitude, the language, the food, and the family.
We walk to the university every day, about a 30 minute walk. It feels like it gets shorter every day. Along the walk we pass at least 100 small stores, with grocery supplies, automobile parts, small goodies, and small children running around. We greet nearly everyone, either with "Good morning," "Hello" or a wave and are usually greeted with a huge smile. Generally you hear the word "Obruni," meaning white person, but it isn't used in a derogatory fashion, and just takes time to get used to. Along the way we probably see about 60 cabs and tro-tros, each honking to see if we want a ride (because Americans are generally perceived to be useless and therefore can't walk).
At the university, all the students are very well dressed, most of the men wearing dress shirts and ties, while the women wear modest yet beautiful clothes. They are by far the best dressed people I have ever met, and constantly put us Americans to shame in our clothing choices. The food is very cheap and mosly delicious, costing less than the equivalent of 50 cents for a full meal of vegetables, rice, and chicken. Another staple in the Ghanaian diet is Milo, the equivalent of hot chocolate, and quickly my favorite habit.
The food is delicious, though very spicy. Most meals consist of spicy rice (when mixed with meat and vegetables it is called jollof), chicken, plantains, and banku. Banku is a dough that is dipped in soup and swallowed whole, and took me quite a while to get used to. We have also recently discovered FanIce, an amazing ice cream that comes in several flavors (unfortunately not chocolate chip cookie dough). We're trying very hard to halt the addiction to this new discovery.
We've been to a few markets, which are the most overwhelming experiences yet. They are jam packed with hundreds of vendors selling all kinds of goods, each yelling at you to visit their shop. If you finally do decide to buy something, it then becomes a game of bargaining, where they offer a price (usually way above actual price because you are a foreigner and they think they can trick you) and you must politely yet aggressively bargain, sometimes cutting the price by as much as half. It can be super stressful, but we are told that vendors expect us to bargain. It's difficult sometimes though trying to reduce the price, knowing that they need the money a lot more than I do. But I knew coming on this trip that there was going to be alot of guilt associated with it.
On to the fun stuff, the clubs and bars here are hilarious. We live down the street from Jerry's, a bar that's open every night blasting Ghanaian and American music. Jerry is amazing, and immediately befriended us and treats us like his daughters. On my runs in the morning I often go by the bar, and he waves and shouts hello every time. We've also gone to some bars in Osu, an amazing bar on the beach, and the most ridiculous circus strip club looking bar called the Roxbury. It's actually modeled after the club from the Night at the Roxbury, and we had one of the most ridiculous nights there this last Saturday. The previous night, we had been invited to the birthday party for the former Miss Ghana 2000, which took place at her house, and was yet another unforgettable Ghanaian experience.
Alright, now that I've given the basics I can start talking about all the hilarious stuff that happens here as it happens. My internet is failing on me, so I'll have to save it for another day, but I hope this answered alot of the questions from emails I've been getting.
Bottom line: I'm having an amazing time!
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