Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
top ten ghanaian phrases and other observations
Top Ten Ghanaian Phrases
1. Obruni how are you? Everyone says this, from night market ladies, to young children, to professors and vendors calling to you on the street, and always with an emphasis on the “un” in Obruni.
2. What do you want? A polite and completely routine way of asking “what would you like?”. You hear this in every stall at a market.
3. Please I’m coming. Said when a Ghanaian wants you to wait for him. Assuring you that he will come back.
4. No Please. Used just like yes please is. I always laugh when I hear this one.
5. You go and come. Meaning, you will leave and then come back later. For example, if you don’t have enough money to pay the night market lady 50 pesewas for a bag of pineapple, you can go get the change and come back later.
6. Somehow. Used by my favorite taxi driver, Nuridean. “Somehow, I am tired.” “Nuridean, will you go to tema later?” “yes, somehow”. Always with the emphasis on “how” and the “some” in an unnaturally high pitch.
7. It is finished. There is no more. Usually you are told this when you want something the most, like fanchoco at the ISH market.
8. Small small. Used to describe a small amount. “You only speak small small twi”
9. I like it= I want it. It’s nice= I like it.
10. Ai! More of a noise than an expression, a high-pitched squeal of surprise or disapproval. Used by taxi drivers when you suggest a price that is “not good” or by the ladies at the market when you knock over an entire table of pens, rulers and notebooks with your huge, American backpack (not that I’ve had personal experience or anything).
I have also found that it’s very difficult to explain hypothetical situations. For example, when in a taxi and you want to know how far a certain place is and you ask “How long would it take to go to Adabraka?” The taxi driver always responds “Oh, you want to go to Adabraka? We go to Adabraka.” You have to say, “No, no no, how long WOULD it take?” You usually get the answer after several rounds of this.
Another thing that Ghanaians do to catch your attention is hiss. To produce this hiss, close your teeth and push your tongue up to the front of your teeth and make an “ssss” noise. I am constantly being hissed at. Ghanaians do not yell “Hey!” or even make a noise when they want to catch your attention, they just hiss. Once, I saw a university student, laden with three or four bags chasing down a tro-tro that he clearly needed to be on very badly, hissing after it. He did not yell, “Stop the tro-tro!” or “Hey!” or even “AHHHHH”, he just kept on hissing as though his life depended on it. I watched incredulously, completely sure that the tro-tro was not going to stop for the running hisser. Miraculously, the tro-tro stopped and began to back up to let him on. I think they can hear hissing through walls.
1. Obruni how are you? Everyone says this, from night market ladies, to young children, to professors and vendors calling to you on the street, and always with an emphasis on the “un” in Obruni.
2. What do you want? A polite and completely routine way of asking “what would you like?”. You hear this in every stall at a market.
3. Please I’m coming. Said when a Ghanaian wants you to wait for him. Assuring you that he will come back.
4. No Please. Used just like yes please is. I always laugh when I hear this one.
5. You go and come. Meaning, you will leave and then come back later. For example, if you don’t have enough money to pay the night market lady 50 pesewas for a bag of pineapple, you can go get the change and come back later.
6. Somehow. Used by my favorite taxi driver, Nuridean. “Somehow, I am tired.” “Nuridean, will you go to tema later?” “yes, somehow”. Always with the emphasis on “how” and the “some” in an unnaturally high pitch.
7. It is finished. There is no more. Usually you are told this when you want something the most, like fanchoco at the ISH market.
8. Small small. Used to describe a small amount. “You only speak small small twi”
9. I like it= I want it. It’s nice= I like it.
10. Ai! More of a noise than an expression, a high-pitched squeal of surprise or disapproval. Used by taxi drivers when you suggest a price that is “not good” or by the ladies at the market when you knock over an entire table of pens, rulers and notebooks with your huge, American backpack (not that I’ve had personal experience or anything).
I have also found that it’s very difficult to explain hypothetical situations. For example, when in a taxi and you want to know how far a certain place is and you ask “How long would it take to go to Adabraka?” The taxi driver always responds “Oh, you want to go to Adabraka? We go to Adabraka.” You have to say, “No, no no, how long WOULD it take?” You usually get the answer after several rounds of this.
Another thing that Ghanaians do to catch your attention is hiss. To produce this hiss, close your teeth and push your tongue up to the front of your teeth and make an “ssss” noise. I am constantly being hissed at. Ghanaians do not yell “Hey!” or even make a noise when they want to catch your attention, they just hiss. Once, I saw a university student, laden with three or four bags chasing down a tro-tro that he clearly needed to be on very badly, hissing after it. He did not yell, “Stop the tro-tro!” or “Hey!” or even “AHHHHH”, he just kept on hissing as though his life depended on it. I watched incredulously, completely sure that the tro-tro was not going to stop for the running hisser. Miraculously, the tro-tro stopped and began to back up to let him on. I think they can hear hissing through walls.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
village on stilts
True to Ghanaian traveling form, we headed out of Accra on Friday morning, November 6, after a week full of classes- our second to last week of instruction before finals!
Our destination: Nzulezo, the 500-year old village on stilts, situated on the fresh-water Lake Amansuri at the westernmost point of Ghana, almost to Cote d’Ivoire. Legend has it that refugees driven out of present-day Nigeria by another tribe built the raised village. The refugees were tricked by spirits into building their village in a wetlands area and now their village hovers above the black waters of Lake Amansuri.
We began our long journey (we heard about 10 hours long) with a three and a half hour tro-tro to the coastal town of Takoradi, one of Ghana’s largest cities. After dinner and an early night, we got up the next morning and trudged to the tro-tro station and began our three-hour ride to Beyin, another town along the coast. The drive was bumpy but beautiful. We could see the palm-tree lined beach almost the entire way, and in between highways were picturesque villages with women carrying baskets on their heads and half-clothed children running around the dirt roads.
Once we finally reached Beyin, we had to check in with the Ghana Wildlife Commission, who organizes all of the trips to Nzulezo. They definitely know how to profit off tourists: after paying a student fee to visit the village, a canoe fee, an overnight fee and a camera fee, I was 20 cedis poorer and ready to see this famed village.
The only way to get to Nzuelzo is by dugout canoe, paddled and punted expertly by our guide, Eben, an Nzuelzo resident and employee of the GWC. On the hour-long canoe ride, he pointed out fish traps that the locals use to catch tilapia, catfish and mudfish. We rowed peacefully past beds of water lilies, green overgrown forests and narrow passageways reminiscent of Pocahontas until we reached an open expanse of a lake that reflected all of the surrounding trees on its surface. It was so beautiful. The water was so dark and still, and as Eben rowed us towards the stilted wood and raffia structures on the edge of the lake I felt like I was in a Discovery Channel show, exploring the furthest reaches of Africa. The lake, as it turns out, is part of the Amansuri Wetlands, which is the largest stand of intact swamp forest in Ghana. Our canoe pulled up to the raffia walkway and we unloaded our backpacks onto the somewhat precarious structure. The walkway was already crowded with Ghanaian tourists; mostly middle school students dressed in uniforms on field trips.
Eben told us that we could set our things in our rooms and then have a tour of the village and meet the chief. He also told us that we would need to buy the chief a bottle of gin, made at the nearby distillery, or give him 7 cedis, the equivalent price. We opted for the 7 cedis option as another Nzuelzo resident in charge of the guesthouse showed us our rooms. The rooms were made entirely out of wood and raffia, with the thin walls covered with old German and Italian newspaper and magazine ads. No lights, just a small window that looked out on the outskirts of Nzuelzo and the expansive lake.
The grand tour took all of 10 minutes. Eben showed us the typical Nzulezo houses, which looked exactly like our guesthouse rooms, except the walls were not covered with paper. The kitchens were located far from the houses, in open air, because of previous experiences with fires. I got the feeling as we were led down the wood dock lined with houses that we were not exactly welcome. Women looked up at us from their cooking disapprovingly and children shouted the routine, “Obruni! Obruni!” as we passed by. The friendly ones, as usual, were the boys. They all wanted to shake our hands, know where we were from and how we liked Nzulezo. Eben showed us the two stores- one containing crackers and water and the other selling small carved wooden canoes as souvenirs.
We reached the chief’s arena, a roofed porch with plastic chairs in rows facing a large wooden desk at the front, where the chief was seated. We learned that the actual chief was in Accra “receiving treatment”; for what, we weren’t sure. So in the meantime, they had an interim chief with bloodshot eyes and a blank expression. We sat in four plastic chairs closest to his desk, expecting to receive the promised 400-year history of Nzulezo in exchange for our 7 cedis. Instead, we got more blank stares from the questionable-looking chief and lots of questions from the young men of Nzulezo. They started out with the routine questions,
‘Where from?’
‘How long in Ghana?’
‘How do you find Ghana?’ (meaning what do we think of Ghana)
And then the conversation takes an inevitable turn- ‘Obama!’ And we discuss how great of a man Obama is, an opinion with which all Ghanaians seem to be in agreement.
We tried to turn the questions on them, asking how long the village had been there, whether they hosted any festivals, what their main source of income was. All questions we posed to the chief but he either couldn’t speak English or just didn’t want to talk to us, because our answers came in symphony form- from about four young adult aged males and a 30ish teacher visiting with his class on a field trip. We learned that the village had been there for 500 years, and no they did not have any festivals, and that income consisted of gin and fish. After a few more questions, Eben told us the chief was tired and done with questions so that we needed to move on with our tour.
He showed us the Roman Catholic Church, a precariously leaning structure with a colorfully decorated altar and adorned with pictures of crosses, hearts on fire and Jesus that you can buy at any tro-tro station for less than 3 US dollars.
We went back to our rooms, exhausted from our travel and all the time spent in the sun. I couldn’t help but wonder, although this village was sponsored by the GWC and was really interesting and beautiful, was it all a big hoax? It seems so unlikely that such a small village of 450 residents could compete with huge fishing industries like in coastal Accra and Tema. Also, why couldn’t the chief tell us any kind of history about his village? The village structures themselves were decrepit and run down, I had to be careful which part of the dock I stepped on because some of those boards looked pretty loose to me.
As we relaxed, the children played and splashed in the water, jumping into the black lake from the back of their houses. As it got dark, we ate fufu and learned that the bathroom was a hole carved in the deck above the water surrounded by three walls and a thin curtain.
Then the music started. All over Ghana, no matter if it’s Cape Coast, Hohoe, Accra, or apparently Nzulezo, Ghanaians love to play music really, really loudly. As the proprietor Daniel put in a cassette tape of Ghanaian raggaeton-like music, all of the children, most of them half-clothed, ran to the guesthouse bar and began shaking their hips and jumping to the music. The seemingly fragile structure shook above the water and more Nzulezo residents piled into the sweaty room, drinking gin and dancing long into the night. They demanded we dance with them, grabbed our hands and led us to the crowded center of the room. Outside, the air was still and cool, the lake still and the sky above was scattered with bright stars. It was absolutely perfect.
Although, just to make sure that we didn’t forget we were in Ghana, my night was relatively sleepless thanks to the scuttling of cockroaches underneath the thin newspapered walls.
After each of these trips, it’s hard for me to qualify them in one word, but I will try. For Nzuelzo, I would call it arranged authenticity. While I don’t doubt that the people of Nzulezo live exactly the way we saw, the constant demand for money is tiresome and sometimes makes me doubt the genuineness of it.
Our destination: Nzulezo, the 500-year old village on stilts, situated on the fresh-water Lake Amansuri at the westernmost point of Ghana, almost to Cote d’Ivoire. Legend has it that refugees driven out of present-day Nigeria by another tribe built the raised village. The refugees were tricked by spirits into building their village in a wetlands area and now their village hovers above the black waters of Lake Amansuri.
We began our long journey (we heard about 10 hours long) with a three and a half hour tro-tro to the coastal town of Takoradi, one of Ghana’s largest cities. After dinner and an early night, we got up the next morning and trudged to the tro-tro station and began our three-hour ride to Beyin, another town along the coast. The drive was bumpy but beautiful. We could see the palm-tree lined beach almost the entire way, and in between highways were picturesque villages with women carrying baskets on their heads and half-clothed children running around the dirt roads.
Once we finally reached Beyin, we had to check in with the Ghana Wildlife Commission, who organizes all of the trips to Nzulezo. They definitely know how to profit off tourists: after paying a student fee to visit the village, a canoe fee, an overnight fee and a camera fee, I was 20 cedis poorer and ready to see this famed village.
The only way to get to Nzuelzo is by dugout canoe, paddled and punted expertly by our guide, Eben, an Nzuelzo resident and employee of the GWC. On the hour-long canoe ride, he pointed out fish traps that the locals use to catch tilapia, catfish and mudfish. We rowed peacefully past beds of water lilies, green overgrown forests and narrow passageways reminiscent of Pocahontas until we reached an open expanse of a lake that reflected all of the surrounding trees on its surface. It was so beautiful. The water was so dark and still, and as Eben rowed us towards the stilted wood and raffia structures on the edge of the lake I felt like I was in a Discovery Channel show, exploring the furthest reaches of Africa. The lake, as it turns out, is part of the Amansuri Wetlands, which is the largest stand of intact swamp forest in Ghana. Our canoe pulled up to the raffia walkway and we unloaded our backpacks onto the somewhat precarious structure. The walkway was already crowded with Ghanaian tourists; mostly middle school students dressed in uniforms on field trips.
Eben told us that we could set our things in our rooms and then have a tour of the village and meet the chief. He also told us that we would need to buy the chief a bottle of gin, made at the nearby distillery, or give him 7 cedis, the equivalent price. We opted for the 7 cedis option as another Nzuelzo resident in charge of the guesthouse showed us our rooms. The rooms were made entirely out of wood and raffia, with the thin walls covered with old German and Italian newspaper and magazine ads. No lights, just a small window that looked out on the outskirts of Nzuelzo and the expansive lake.
The grand tour took all of 10 minutes. Eben showed us the typical Nzulezo houses, which looked exactly like our guesthouse rooms, except the walls were not covered with paper. The kitchens were located far from the houses, in open air, because of previous experiences with fires. I got the feeling as we were led down the wood dock lined with houses that we were not exactly welcome. Women looked up at us from their cooking disapprovingly and children shouted the routine, “Obruni! Obruni!” as we passed by. The friendly ones, as usual, were the boys. They all wanted to shake our hands, know where we were from and how we liked Nzulezo. Eben showed us the two stores- one containing crackers and water and the other selling small carved wooden canoes as souvenirs.
We reached the chief’s arena, a roofed porch with plastic chairs in rows facing a large wooden desk at the front, where the chief was seated. We learned that the actual chief was in Accra “receiving treatment”; for what, we weren’t sure. So in the meantime, they had an interim chief with bloodshot eyes and a blank expression. We sat in four plastic chairs closest to his desk, expecting to receive the promised 400-year history of Nzulezo in exchange for our 7 cedis. Instead, we got more blank stares from the questionable-looking chief and lots of questions from the young men of Nzulezo. They started out with the routine questions,
‘Where from?’
‘How long in Ghana?’
‘How do you find Ghana?’ (meaning what do we think of Ghana)
And then the conversation takes an inevitable turn- ‘Obama!’ And we discuss how great of a man Obama is, an opinion with which all Ghanaians seem to be in agreement.
We tried to turn the questions on them, asking how long the village had been there, whether they hosted any festivals, what their main source of income was. All questions we posed to the chief but he either couldn’t speak English or just didn’t want to talk to us, because our answers came in symphony form- from about four young adult aged males and a 30ish teacher visiting with his class on a field trip. We learned that the village had been there for 500 years, and no they did not have any festivals, and that income consisted of gin and fish. After a few more questions, Eben told us the chief was tired and done with questions so that we needed to move on with our tour.
He showed us the Roman Catholic Church, a precariously leaning structure with a colorfully decorated altar and adorned with pictures of crosses, hearts on fire and Jesus that you can buy at any tro-tro station for less than 3 US dollars.
We went back to our rooms, exhausted from our travel and all the time spent in the sun. I couldn’t help but wonder, although this village was sponsored by the GWC and was really interesting and beautiful, was it all a big hoax? It seems so unlikely that such a small village of 450 residents could compete with huge fishing industries like in coastal Accra and Tema. Also, why couldn’t the chief tell us any kind of history about his village? The village structures themselves were decrepit and run down, I had to be careful which part of the dock I stepped on because some of those boards looked pretty loose to me.
As we relaxed, the children played and splashed in the water, jumping into the black lake from the back of their houses. As it got dark, we ate fufu and learned that the bathroom was a hole carved in the deck above the water surrounded by three walls and a thin curtain.
Then the music started. All over Ghana, no matter if it’s Cape Coast, Hohoe, Accra, or apparently Nzulezo, Ghanaians love to play music really, really loudly. As the proprietor Daniel put in a cassette tape of Ghanaian raggaeton-like music, all of the children, most of them half-clothed, ran to the guesthouse bar and began shaking their hips and jumping to the music. The seemingly fragile structure shook above the water and more Nzulezo residents piled into the sweaty room, drinking gin and dancing long into the night. They demanded we dance with them, grabbed our hands and led us to the crowded center of the room. Outside, the air was still and cool, the lake still and the sky above was scattered with bright stars. It was absolutely perfect.
Although, just to make sure that we didn’t forget we were in Ghana, my night was relatively sleepless thanks to the scuttling of cockroaches underneath the thin newspapered walls.
After each of these trips, it’s hard for me to qualify them in one word, but I will try. For Nzuelzo, I would call it arranged authenticity. While I don’t doubt that the people of Nzulezo live exactly the way we saw, the constant demand for money is tiresome and sometimes makes me doubt the genuineness of it.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
lately
After last weekend, I can now say that I have been to two african countries!
After hearing of the frenchness that is Togo, we decided we had to see for ourselves. Heather, Grace, Andi and packed our backpacks (we have become experts at packing light), boarded a tro-tro and set off for the border town of Aflao. We arrived at around 8 pm, and had to apply for Visas at the border office. We paid the 48 cedis for a week-long visa to Togo, got some really cool-looking stamps on our passports, received marriage proposals from all of the immigration officers, and crossed the border to Togo!
Immediately as we stepped into the new country, we were surrounded by motorcycles, baguettes and french-speaking people. We made our way to a hotel, had dinner and slept well until the next morning.
We heard rumors about the motorcycles-as-taxis, so we decided to see if they were true. Indeed, when we stepped out of our hotel the next morning the streets were bustling with motorcycles; the drivers all Togolese, and each moto with room on the back for one passenger. We hailed four taximotos (we are getting good at hailing -cabs now- and also at negotiating the price) and told them- in french, no less- to take us to a busy market. We figured from there we could get a feel for the capital city of Lome and find a restaurant. We all held on for dear life as our taxi drivers weaved through the car traffic, cut close corners and yelled for pedestrians to get out of their way. (don't worry, mom, i am alive and that's all that matters!) That's something universal about Africa: cars DO NOT stop for pedestrians, even if they are in the middle of the road. Coming from a place like California where pedestrians can walk out in the middle of oncoming traffic and cars will screech to a stop, it's quite a shock to learn that's not how they do things here.
We pulled up to a bustling market where people sold goods like huge, straw hats, leather belts, fruit, vegetables. We walked for a long time through this market, and as we walked, the vendors yelled "Ca va?" at us.
The rest of the day was spent in a similar fashion. We discovered the beach, a beautiful, sandy expanse of land right on the outskirts of Lome. The water was a picturesque azure blue. We felt a little disoriented in this new place. It was so different from Accra. It felt very European: wide streets, french-style street signs (they actually have street signs!) and french everywhere. It was exciting to be able to communicate with people and actually use my french!
that night, we went to a restaurant where we could watch the football game: under 20 world cup finals, ghana vs. brazil. Even in Togo, everyone was rooting for ghana! As the game came to an end, and there were two intense rounds of shoot-offs (no idea what they're called) and finally ghana won! The entire place erupted in screams, chanting and songs. It was such a cool thing to witness: the first time an African country has ever won a world cup, and we were there! We all felt a swell of Ghana Pride as we watched the game, and it occurred to me that Ghana has become my home away from home. We were all homesick for Accra, and wanted to return soon.
The next morning we got up early and took taximotos to the Fetish market. In Togo, something like 60 % of the population practices the Vodun religion, which is basically Voodoo. It's not associated with "black magic" and creepy things like that. It's a legitimate religion that many Togolese practice. One aspect of Vodun that is unique is its use of fetishes for cures to diseases and other ailments. we pulled up to the market, which was a large dirt patch lined with stalls. In front of the stalls were tables filled with dead, dried out animals. Some were skeletons and skulls: horses, lizards, birds, cats. Some were entire animals: huge snakes, whole bugs, birds with wings still on them. Other tables had parts of animals: elephant tusks, cow horns, gorilla feet. Everywhere I looked there were parts of animals dried out by the african sun. A man from the market took us on a short tour, explaining what each animal part was used for (ground up elephant tusks were used to cure elephantitis, similarly dog is used to cure rabies from dog bites)- all in french. So he told me in french, and then I translated to my friends. After our tour, we went into the hut of the fetish priest to be blessed by him. After he blessed us with good health, happiness and safe travels, he explained the various fetishes and what they are used for. There is a talisman used to ward off evil spirits, one to protect travelers, and another to bless the family home. It was one of the coolest experiences I've had and unlike anything I've ever seen. It was all very mystical and spiritual.
On the way home from Togo, after we crossed the border and were three hours into
We left Togo with a different taste of Africa. I am so lucky that I am able to experience all these new places and meet amazing people, but I was equally as happy to return to Accra.
After hearing of the frenchness that is Togo, we decided we had to see for ourselves. Heather, Grace, Andi and packed our backpacks (we have become experts at packing light), boarded a tro-tro and set off for the border town of Aflao. We arrived at around 8 pm, and had to apply for Visas at the border office. We paid the 48 cedis for a week-long visa to Togo, got some really cool-looking stamps on our passports, received marriage proposals from all of the immigration officers, and crossed the border to Togo!
Immediately as we stepped into the new country, we were surrounded by motorcycles, baguettes and french-speaking people. We made our way to a hotel, had dinner and slept well until the next morning.
We heard rumors about the motorcycles-as-taxis, so we decided to see if they were true. Indeed, when we stepped out of our hotel the next morning the streets were bustling with motorcycles; the drivers all Togolese, and each moto with room on the back for one passenger. We hailed four taximotos (we are getting good at hailing -cabs now- and also at negotiating the price) and told them- in french, no less- to take us to a busy market. We figured from there we could get a feel for the capital city of Lome and find a restaurant. We all held on for dear life as our taxi drivers weaved through the car traffic, cut close corners and yelled for pedestrians to get out of their way. (don't worry, mom, i am alive and that's all that matters!) That's something universal about Africa: cars DO NOT stop for pedestrians, even if they are in the middle of the road. Coming from a place like California where pedestrians can walk out in the middle of oncoming traffic and cars will screech to a stop, it's quite a shock to learn that's not how they do things here.
We pulled up to a bustling market where people sold goods like huge, straw hats, leather belts, fruit, vegetables. We walked for a long time through this market, and as we walked, the vendors yelled "Ca va?" at us.
The rest of the day was spent in a similar fashion. We discovered the beach, a beautiful, sandy expanse of land right on the outskirts of Lome. The water was a picturesque azure blue. We felt a little disoriented in this new place. It was so different from Accra. It felt very European: wide streets, french-style street signs (they actually have street signs!) and french everywhere. It was exciting to be able to communicate with people and actually use my french!
that night, we went to a restaurant where we could watch the football game: under 20 world cup finals, ghana vs. brazil. Even in Togo, everyone was rooting for ghana! As the game came to an end, and there were two intense rounds of shoot-offs (no idea what they're called) and finally ghana won! The entire place erupted in screams, chanting and songs. It was such a cool thing to witness: the first time an African country has ever won a world cup, and we were there! We all felt a swell of Ghana Pride as we watched the game, and it occurred to me that Ghana has become my home away from home. We were all homesick for Accra, and wanted to return soon.
The next morning we got up early and took taximotos to the Fetish market. In Togo, something like 60 % of the population practices the Vodun religion, which is basically Voodoo. It's not associated with "black magic" and creepy things like that. It's a legitimate religion that many Togolese practice. One aspect of Vodun that is unique is its use of fetishes for cures to diseases and other ailments. we pulled up to the market, which was a large dirt patch lined with stalls. In front of the stalls were tables filled with dead, dried out animals. Some were skeletons and skulls: horses, lizards, birds, cats. Some were entire animals: huge snakes, whole bugs, birds with wings still on them. Other tables had parts of animals: elephant tusks, cow horns, gorilla feet. Everywhere I looked there were parts of animals dried out by the african sun. A man from the market took us on a short tour, explaining what each animal part was used for (ground up elephant tusks were used to cure elephantitis, similarly dog is used to cure rabies from dog bites)- all in french. So he told me in french, and then I translated to my friends. After our tour, we went into the hut of the fetish priest to be blessed by him. After he blessed us with good health, happiness and safe travels, he explained the various fetishes and what they are used for. There is a talisman used to ward off evil spirits, one to protect travelers, and another to bless the family home. It was one of the coolest experiences I've had and unlike anything I've ever seen. It was all very mystical and spiritual.
On the way home from Togo, after we crossed the border and were three hours into
We left Togo with a different taste of Africa. I am so lucky that I am able to experience all these new places and meet amazing people, but I was equally as happy to return to Accra.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
the best things in life are free
it's been awhile!
lately, my life in ghana has consisted of: a much-needed movie night at the Accra Mall to see Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs; classes becoming much more interesting- even got a few paper assignments; got and then promptly quit an internship at the University Hosptial, which consisted of me sitting around for three hours, watching the nurses of the empty children's ward watch the television, got an internship at the New Horizon Special School; began volunteering at the Beacon House Children's Home; found a hot dog stand called Hot On Wheels- YES; reading A LOT- currently on The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand (for the second time); saw pentecostals roaming the fields at night speaking in tongues; went to a dance performance on campus, very good!; movie nights in our room where six of us crowd around a tiny computer screen just to get some american entertainment; traveled spontaneously to Kokrobite, a charming and beautiful beach town where we discovered a great Italian restaurant and hung out with amazing people and slept in tents; picked up an entire funeral party on our bus on the way back to Accra; found a great market with unique crafts and paintings; made great Ghanaian friends and had them over for burrito night- they were confused, we talked them through the constructio and consumption of the enigmatic burrito; bought a world map, a Ghana map and an Accra map to document our past and plan our future travels; embarked on a failed trip to Benin to see a soccer game- we were rejected at the Togo border; fed the messiest baby ALIVE at the children's home, came home with rice-covered clothes...
Needless to say, life moves fast here! This weekend, we are planning on traveling back to Togo, this time to the capital Lome. Apparently it is quite french! I've heard rumors of baguettes, covered sewers and motorcycles as public transportation.
It's amazing to be able to pick up and travel wherever and whenever we want. I've never experienced this kind of freedom and it is invigorating! School is not that demanding (a 65 percent is an A) and there is just so much to see...how can I not travel?
Peace and love from ghana.
lately, my life in ghana has consisted of: a much-needed movie night at the Accra Mall to see Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs; classes becoming much more interesting- even got a few paper assignments; got and then promptly quit an internship at the University Hosptial, which consisted of me sitting around for three hours, watching the nurses of the empty children's ward watch the television, got an internship at the New Horizon Special School; began volunteering at the Beacon House Children's Home; found a hot dog stand called Hot On Wheels- YES; reading A LOT- currently on The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand (for the second time); saw pentecostals roaming the fields at night speaking in tongues; went to a dance performance on campus, very good!; movie nights in our room where six of us crowd around a tiny computer screen just to get some american entertainment; traveled spontaneously to Kokrobite, a charming and beautiful beach town where we discovered a great Italian restaurant and hung out with amazing people and slept in tents; picked up an entire funeral party on our bus on the way back to Accra; found a great market with unique crafts and paintings; made great Ghanaian friends and had them over for burrito night- they were confused, we talked them through the constructio and consumption of the enigmatic burrito; bought a world map, a Ghana map and an Accra map to document our past and plan our future travels; embarked on a failed trip to Benin to see a soccer game- we were rejected at the Togo border; fed the messiest baby ALIVE at the children's home, came home with rice-covered clothes...
Needless to say, life moves fast here! This weekend, we are planning on traveling back to Togo, this time to the capital Lome. Apparently it is quite french! I've heard rumors of baguettes, covered sewers and motorcycles as public transportation.
It's amazing to be able to pick up and travel wherever and whenever we want. I've never experienced this kind of freedom and it is invigorating! School is not that demanding (a 65 percent is an A) and there is just so much to see...how can I not travel?
Peace and love from ghana.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
travel days two and three
We woke up Saturday morning with ambition to climb the lower and upper Wli falls. Wli is about a 30-minute tro-tro ride from Hohoe, but the thing about tro-tros is that you have to wait until one fills up before it leaves. There is no set departure time so sometimes it takes quite awhile to get somewhere.
this is a really bad tro-tro
We waited for about half an hour before we left for Wli. When we approached the tro-tro after paying our fare (1 ghana cedi), the very backseat of the van was facing outwards like in old Volvo station wagons. Andi, Heather, Grace and I screamed in delight when we realized we were going to be able to sit backwards! I remember being young and wishing so bad that my mom would buy a Volvo JUST so my sister and I could sit backwards; it was so different, new and exciting! Our own little space in the back of a car! Our excitement really confused the Ghanaians, and as the driver went to turn the seat back around to its normal position, we urgently stopped him. The four of us piled into the van, sitting backwards facing the market. Ghanaians laughed at us as they walked by and were so confused as to why we were so excited to sit the wrong way. I get the feeling a lot of times that Ghanaians see us as children, unaware of cultural customs and often breaking taboos. But we are earnest and well-intentioned so they just laugh, half amused at us and half embarrassed by us.
SO excited
We arrived at Wli, and went straight to the tourist center where we paid to visit the falls and climb the upper part, which required a guide. Alex was pretty excited that he got to lead four obrunis through the rainforest, and he stopped often to show us native plants and animals- there were colorful butterflies everywhere! As we neared the lower falls, we could hear the roar of the water. After a 40-minute walk, Alex signaled the turn off point to the steep upper falls hike. We changed from flip-flops into tennis shoes when we saw the narrow vertical trail and proceeded with enthusiasm and determination. It’s pretty safe to say that it was the HARDEST hike I have ever attempted in my LIFE! The trail was barely wide enough for one person and so steep that Alex outfitted all of us with long, smooth walking sticks to keep us from falling backwards down the mountain. Just to make us feel even more inadequate, Alex sprinted up the hill in long jeans and cheap sandals. As we panted up the overgrown trail, we tried to justify our slow progress: it was late in the day, we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, we are white?? Finally Andi and I fell so far behind and were so delirious with laughter that the other three had to stop and wait for us. We emerged from the green brush, sweaty and crying from laughing so hard, and Alex promptly informed us that he didn’t think the two of us “were fit to continue the hike”.
Cool, thanks, Alex.
Anyways we all agreed we would all be much happier swimming in the lower falls’ pool and taking pictures of how small we looked against the backdrop of the tall waterfall, so we somewhat reluctantly turned around and practically slid down the mountain as the rain came down. The canopy of trees completely protected us from the water.
Wli Falls
That night at dinner we decided that since we were so close to the Togo border (Wli is a border town), we should go there for the day. The next morning, we packed our things and took a taxi to the border, which consisted of a set of mud-walled houses painted bright colors on the Ghana side and two wooden posts with a string tied between them to indicate the physical border. We walked into the most populated office, weighed down by all our backpacks, to five doubtful looking Ghanaian immigration officials. We earnestly explained our desire to visit Togo for the day, and all simultaneously spit information at them about how we were students at the University of Ghana, from California, trying to impress them with a few Twi words, our Ghanaian names, dances, anything that would help us convince these straightlaced officials. They erupted into laughter and played our game with us, quizzing us on aspects of Ghanaian culture and indulging our showy performance before solemnly telling us that without passports we were definitely not going to Togo. We explained the problem: the US Embassy has our passports because they are in the process of granting us a six-month Multiple Entry Visa, and we did not have our passports back yet. I was pretty sure at this point that there was no way they were letting us into Togo. Finally after some begging, one officer got his superior, who summoned the “leader” to speak with him in his office (the other room of the office, separated from the main room by a lacy, mangled curtain). We pushed Andi into the other room, trusting her ability to charm almost any Ghanaian with her candid humor. Heather, Grace and I kept our conversation alive with the other officers, learning that some of them went to college and studied Political science, and that others had been trained and employed by the army and were placed at the border for a few years. Andi emerged from the curtain triumphant, later telling us that the man wasn’t really allowed to let us into Togo without passports, and that it would cost us 10 cedis each, which we gladly paid. He asked Andi leading questions like, “So, I hear you’re a student. Are you doing some kind of project in Togo?” (raises eyebrows meaningfully) To which Andi answered, “Ahhhh, yes, we are all students studying the cultural differences between Ghana and Togo.” (raises eyebrows back at him) We were to be smuggled into Togo! We would meet the “secrecy service” at the Togo border and we were not to speak, just smile and pretend we were visiting our friend in Ghana, who wanted to show us Togo.
Finally, we passed over the string border and into No Man’s Land! The four of us followed our assigned immigration officer, Mawuli, like little ducks. We trailed behind him excitedly, half expecting some kind of sign that we were about to cross into another country- like a time warp, or a ceremony at least. There was nothing of the sort- just a normal looking man on a motorcycle who shook our hands and welcomed us into Togo under another string border. Togo is absolutely beautiful. Just like the Volta Region of Ghana, it is green, lush and humid. It’s really a part of the Volta Region, but arbitrary European borders made it a different country. At the border there was a village with thatched roof huts, people sitting outside cooking and waving at us, and children staring at us. There were goats, turkeys, chickens and roosters everywhere making various noises. The rainy climate creates a golden, healthy glow over everything. Most people in Togo speak Ewe, the native language also spoken in the Volta Region, but they also speak French! It was the coolest thing to converse with the people in French- it really made me feel like I was in a different place, whereas in Ghana we speak English all the time. We walked through two more picturesque villages, all with equally beautiful scenery and people.
We stopped at the third village, called Yikpa Dzigbe, which was the busiest. All the kids followed us in a trail, begging us to take pictures of them. The adults wanted to talk to us- to tell us the history of their lives and their village. One man, Sylvanus, offered to take us on a hike up the nearby mountain, promising an amazing view of Togo and Ghana at the top. Given our previous hiking performance, we were hesitant but he promised it was short so we said ok. We all trailed through the village to the trail- Sylvanus with his three year old daughter on his back, Mawuli, another man from the village, his two sons, and us four, in rainbow sandals, skirts and carrying our purses. They led us straight up- it was really steep so of course Andi and I brought up the rear, panting and laughing uncontrollably, causing Mawuli to turn around frequently and say, “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” which just made me laugh harder. Our cosmopolitan group finally reached the top, and it was SO worth it. There was green as far as I could see, villages interspersed with the greenery, and on all sides we were surrounded by massive, majestic mountains. Then we saw the rain. It came towards us like a thick sheet, advancing quickly, so we turned around and started back down the mountain. The rain hit hard, pouring and monsooning, completely drenching all of us. It was definitely harder than any shower pressure I have experienced thus far in Ghana. And just when I thought the rain would let up, it would pelt down even harder as we slipped down the mountain in the mud. It was so much fun, traipsing down this crazy steep mudslide by a crazy barefooted village man, all of us trying to get down together.
We finally reached the village, and were met by screaming children welcoming us back and celebrating the obrunis’ triumphant survival. Sylvanus led us to his modest hut, where he presented us with towels and insisted that he help us wash the mud off our clothes and let them dry for a little while. In the meantime, we asked Sylvanus about his life- his mother is Ghanaian, his father Togolese, so he is a citizen of both places. He prefers Ghana because of their advanced democracy and modernization. Togo still has some problems with democracy to work out. He told us about his religion, that he is Christian and is not appalled when we told him we are not exactly religious as most Ghanaians do. Instead, he assured us that “God is in your heart” and that you don’t need a church to believe. He believes that his ancestors are always present, and that certain aspects of them can be reincarnated in young children. After the rain finally slowed down, Sylvanus made us promise we would all meet again someday, and we exchanged contact information. Walking back to Ghana was even more beautiful in the late afternoon post-rain sun shining on everything glazed with rainwater. Again, we had a parade to see us off back across the border. We were all tired but really happy.
We crossed back over the border to Ghana, and Mawuli took us to a nearby lodge run by a German couple- the Waterfall lodge, only 250 m from the tourist center. The four of us were shown to a four-bed rotund yurt-like hut, which we were ecstatic about. We said goodbye to Mawuli, thanked him endlessly for being our protector and hanging out with us for the day, and insisted that he visit us whenever he comes to Accra.
It was the most amazing experience I have had thus far in Ghana, and one of my favorite memories of my life. I love the humanity of it all, of meeting people at random and feeling so welcome, of forging unlikely friendships with people so different from yourself, and of the exquisite and humble beauty of rural Africa.
As we were driving back to Accra yesterday, leaving the green, I remembered a quote from the movie American Beauty: “its hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once and it’s too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold onto it. And then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid life.” That’s how I felt in Togo. It was so simplistically beautiful, and I felt I could not take enough pictures to do it justice. I wanted to remember it, to cement it into my mind and was panicked when I couldn’t. When I relaxed and just enjoyed the day and felt humbled, happy and fulfilled, I knew that I had.
this is a really bad tro-tro
We waited for about half an hour before we left for Wli. When we approached the tro-tro after paying our fare (1 ghana cedi), the very backseat of the van was facing outwards like in old Volvo station wagons. Andi, Heather, Grace and I screamed in delight when we realized we were going to be able to sit backwards! I remember being young and wishing so bad that my mom would buy a Volvo JUST so my sister and I could sit backwards; it was so different, new and exciting! Our own little space in the back of a car! Our excitement really confused the Ghanaians, and as the driver went to turn the seat back around to its normal position, we urgently stopped him. The four of us piled into the van, sitting backwards facing the market. Ghanaians laughed at us as they walked by and were so confused as to why we were so excited to sit the wrong way. I get the feeling a lot of times that Ghanaians see us as children, unaware of cultural customs and often breaking taboos. But we are earnest and well-intentioned so they just laugh, half amused at us and half embarrassed by us.
SO excited
We arrived at Wli, and went straight to the tourist center where we paid to visit the falls and climb the upper part, which required a guide. Alex was pretty excited that he got to lead four obrunis through the rainforest, and he stopped often to show us native plants and animals- there were colorful butterflies everywhere! As we neared the lower falls, we could hear the roar of the water. After a 40-minute walk, Alex signaled the turn off point to the steep upper falls hike. We changed from flip-flops into tennis shoes when we saw the narrow vertical trail and proceeded with enthusiasm and determination. It’s pretty safe to say that it was the HARDEST hike I have ever attempted in my LIFE! The trail was barely wide enough for one person and so steep that Alex outfitted all of us with long, smooth walking sticks to keep us from falling backwards down the mountain. Just to make us feel even more inadequate, Alex sprinted up the hill in long jeans and cheap sandals. As we panted up the overgrown trail, we tried to justify our slow progress: it was late in the day, we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, we are white?? Finally Andi and I fell so far behind and were so delirious with laughter that the other three had to stop and wait for us. We emerged from the green brush, sweaty and crying from laughing so hard, and Alex promptly informed us that he didn’t think the two of us “were fit to continue the hike”.
Cool, thanks, Alex.
Anyways we all agreed we would all be much happier swimming in the lower falls’ pool and taking pictures of how small we looked against the backdrop of the tall waterfall, so we somewhat reluctantly turned around and practically slid down the mountain as the rain came down. The canopy of trees completely protected us from the water.
Wli Falls
That night at dinner we decided that since we were so close to the Togo border (Wli is a border town), we should go there for the day. The next morning, we packed our things and took a taxi to the border, which consisted of a set of mud-walled houses painted bright colors on the Ghana side and two wooden posts with a string tied between them to indicate the physical border. We walked into the most populated office, weighed down by all our backpacks, to five doubtful looking Ghanaian immigration officials. We earnestly explained our desire to visit Togo for the day, and all simultaneously spit information at them about how we were students at the University of Ghana, from California, trying to impress them with a few Twi words, our Ghanaian names, dances, anything that would help us convince these straightlaced officials. They erupted into laughter and played our game with us, quizzing us on aspects of Ghanaian culture and indulging our showy performance before solemnly telling us that without passports we were definitely not going to Togo. We explained the problem: the US Embassy has our passports because they are in the process of granting us a six-month Multiple Entry Visa, and we did not have our passports back yet. I was pretty sure at this point that there was no way they were letting us into Togo. Finally after some begging, one officer got his superior, who summoned the “leader” to speak with him in his office (the other room of the office, separated from the main room by a lacy, mangled curtain). We pushed Andi into the other room, trusting her ability to charm almost any Ghanaian with her candid humor. Heather, Grace and I kept our conversation alive with the other officers, learning that some of them went to college and studied Political science, and that others had been trained and employed by the army and were placed at the border for a few years. Andi emerged from the curtain triumphant, later telling us that the man wasn’t really allowed to let us into Togo without passports, and that it would cost us 10 cedis each, which we gladly paid. He asked Andi leading questions like, “So, I hear you’re a student. Are you doing some kind of project in Togo?” (raises eyebrows meaningfully) To which Andi answered, “Ahhhh, yes, we are all students studying the cultural differences between Ghana and Togo.” (raises eyebrows back at him) We were to be smuggled into Togo! We would meet the “secrecy service” at the Togo border and we were not to speak, just smile and pretend we were visiting our friend in Ghana, who wanted to show us Togo.
Finally, we passed over the string border and into No Man’s Land! The four of us followed our assigned immigration officer, Mawuli, like little ducks. We trailed behind him excitedly, half expecting some kind of sign that we were about to cross into another country- like a time warp, or a ceremony at least. There was nothing of the sort- just a normal looking man on a motorcycle who shook our hands and welcomed us into Togo under another string border. Togo is absolutely beautiful. Just like the Volta Region of Ghana, it is green, lush and humid. It’s really a part of the Volta Region, but arbitrary European borders made it a different country. At the border there was a village with thatched roof huts, people sitting outside cooking and waving at us, and children staring at us. There were goats, turkeys, chickens and roosters everywhere making various noises. The rainy climate creates a golden, healthy glow over everything. Most people in Togo speak Ewe, the native language also spoken in the Volta Region, but they also speak French! It was the coolest thing to converse with the people in French- it really made me feel like I was in a different place, whereas in Ghana we speak English all the time. We walked through two more picturesque villages, all with equally beautiful scenery and people.
We stopped at the third village, called Yikpa Dzigbe, which was the busiest. All the kids followed us in a trail, begging us to take pictures of them. The adults wanted to talk to us- to tell us the history of their lives and their village. One man, Sylvanus, offered to take us on a hike up the nearby mountain, promising an amazing view of Togo and Ghana at the top. Given our previous hiking performance, we were hesitant but he promised it was short so we said ok. We all trailed through the village to the trail- Sylvanus with his three year old daughter on his back, Mawuli, another man from the village, his two sons, and us four, in rainbow sandals, skirts and carrying our purses. They led us straight up- it was really steep so of course Andi and I brought up the rear, panting and laughing uncontrollably, causing Mawuli to turn around frequently and say, “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” which just made me laugh harder. Our cosmopolitan group finally reached the top, and it was SO worth it. There was green as far as I could see, villages interspersed with the greenery, and on all sides we were surrounded by massive, majestic mountains. Then we saw the rain. It came towards us like a thick sheet, advancing quickly, so we turned around and started back down the mountain. The rain hit hard, pouring and monsooning, completely drenching all of us. It was definitely harder than any shower pressure I have experienced thus far in Ghana. And just when I thought the rain would let up, it would pelt down even harder as we slipped down the mountain in the mud. It was so much fun, traipsing down this crazy steep mudslide by a crazy barefooted village man, all of us trying to get down together.
We finally reached the village, and were met by screaming children welcoming us back and celebrating the obrunis’ triumphant survival. Sylvanus led us to his modest hut, where he presented us with towels and insisted that he help us wash the mud off our clothes and let them dry for a little while. In the meantime, we asked Sylvanus about his life- his mother is Ghanaian, his father Togolese, so he is a citizen of both places. He prefers Ghana because of their advanced democracy and modernization. Togo still has some problems with democracy to work out. He told us about his religion, that he is Christian and is not appalled when we told him we are not exactly religious as most Ghanaians do. Instead, he assured us that “God is in your heart” and that you don’t need a church to believe. He believes that his ancestors are always present, and that certain aspects of them can be reincarnated in young children. After the rain finally slowed down, Sylvanus made us promise we would all meet again someday, and we exchanged contact information. Walking back to Ghana was even more beautiful in the late afternoon post-rain sun shining on everything glazed with rainwater. Again, we had a parade to see us off back across the border. We were all tired but really happy.
We crossed back over the border to Ghana, and Mawuli took us to a nearby lodge run by a German couple- the Waterfall lodge, only 250 m from the tourist center. The four of us were shown to a four-bed rotund yurt-like hut, which we were ecstatic about. We said goodbye to Mawuli, thanked him endlessly for being our protector and hanging out with us for the day, and insisted that he visit us whenever he comes to Accra.
It was the most amazing experience I have had thus far in Ghana, and one of my favorite memories of my life. I love the humanity of it all, of meeting people at random and feeling so welcome, of forging unlikely friendships with people so different from yourself, and of the exquisite and humble beauty of rural Africa.
As we were driving back to Accra yesterday, leaving the green, I remembered a quote from the movie American Beauty: “its hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once and it’s too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold onto it. And then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid life.” That’s how I felt in Togo. It was so simplistically beautiful, and I felt I could not take enough pictures to do it justice. I wanted to remember it, to cement it into my mind and was panicked when I couldn’t. When I relaxed and just enjoyed the day and felt humbled, happy and fulfilled, I knew that I had.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
traveling the volta: day one
five-day weekends mean one thing in ghana: travel. this time, andi, heather, grace and i set off on thursday afternoon for the eastern Volta region, named for its proximity to the Volta River. We took a tro-tro there, arrived at 9 pm at Taste Lodge in Hohoe (pronounced ho-hoy)where a seemingly friendly family got us situated into two rooms. The next morning, during breakfast, the large and somewhat intimidating mother/owner/manageress sat down with us at our table and asked when we were planning on leaving. we told her we intended to stay two nights, and she said, "well, that's going to be a problem." it turns out even though we had reserved two rooms for two nights she had more important guests coming who needed our rooms and we needed to leave within half an hour.
WHAT??
We were a little shocked and then a little angry but we couldn't really do anything except agree to leave. It didn't help that she kept saying "I feel so so sorry" with a huge grin on her face. So as we were leaving we left a cracker on the bed, took the soap and purposely didn't put the pillows back inside just to show taste lodge that we were not happy that they were kicking us out.
so, the four of us started down the dirt road of Hohoe, homeless and annoyed, in search of a new hotel. we found the grand, which was more central, nicer and cheaper. score.
we took a tro-tro to the nearby small town of kpando in search of a women's pottery co-op we had read about in our ghana guidebook. from kpando, we took a taxi 5 minutes to a village called Fesi. The best thing about the Volta Region is how amazingly green everything is! All the plants look so healthy from the rain and the green color is unlike any I have ever seen before. The village was the first real village I have been to- it had thatched roof mud huts surrounded by green, tangled trees and children ran around excitedly as we arrived. We walked through the maze of huts to a clearing where a woman and three children were sitting. We asked them where the potters were, and the mother motioned for her three-year old daughter to show us the way. it was the funniest sight: four 20 year old girls being led down a mossy, green, tropical path by a local toddler. She led us to another clearing where we saw a huge building with a large porch and a smaller hut next to it. There were about five or six women on the porch, smoothing pots, adding designs to them or molding clay to start their next project. their pottery was absolutely beautiful and every piece is one of a kind because they are all hand made by the 30 or so women who work at the co-op. inside the building was a small warehouse featuring all of their handiwork. Their pieces are a beautiful black color, smooth and almost opal from drying in the kiln and in the sunlight. they are all amazingly talented; creating pots, vases, bowls, figurines, beads. there was a peace corps volunteer at the shed who is there teaching the women how to effectively run a small business- how to save their money and make a profit. I talked to one of the women for a while, and she showed me how she does her work- it is so meticulous! It takes her a long time to finish a small tea pot- because there are so many intricate designs on the exterior of the sculpture and also because she has to let it dry in the sun partially, and then fire it in the kiln. it was a great experience, and i loved getting an insight into the lives of these women and the Fesi residents. It painted a very different picture from Accra and I love it!
WHAT??
We were a little shocked and then a little angry but we couldn't really do anything except agree to leave. It didn't help that she kept saying "I feel so so sorry" with a huge grin on her face. So as we were leaving we left a cracker on the bed, took the soap and purposely didn't put the pillows back inside just to show taste lodge that we were not happy that they were kicking us out.
so, the four of us started down the dirt road of Hohoe, homeless and annoyed, in search of a new hotel. we found the grand, which was more central, nicer and cheaper. score.
we took a tro-tro to the nearby small town of kpando in search of a women's pottery co-op we had read about in our ghana guidebook. from kpando, we took a taxi 5 minutes to a village called Fesi. The best thing about the Volta Region is how amazingly green everything is! All the plants look so healthy from the rain and the green color is unlike any I have ever seen before. The village was the first real village I have been to- it had thatched roof mud huts surrounded by green, tangled trees and children ran around excitedly as we arrived. We walked through the maze of huts to a clearing where a woman and three children were sitting. We asked them where the potters were, and the mother motioned for her three-year old daughter to show us the way. it was the funniest sight: four 20 year old girls being led down a mossy, green, tropical path by a local toddler. She led us to another clearing where we saw a huge building with a large porch and a smaller hut next to it. There were about five or six women on the porch, smoothing pots, adding designs to them or molding clay to start their next project. their pottery was absolutely beautiful and every piece is one of a kind because they are all hand made by the 30 or so women who work at the co-op. inside the building was a small warehouse featuring all of their handiwork. Their pieces are a beautiful black color, smooth and almost opal from drying in the kiln and in the sunlight. they are all amazingly talented; creating pots, vases, bowls, figurines, beads. there was a peace corps volunteer at the shed who is there teaching the women how to effectively run a small business- how to save their money and make a profit. I talked to one of the women for a while, and she showed me how she does her work- it is so meticulous! It takes her a long time to finish a small tea pot- because there are so many intricate designs on the exterior of the sculpture and also because she has to let it dry in the sun partially, and then fire it in the kiln. it was a great experience, and i loved getting an insight into the lives of these women and the Fesi residents. It painted a very different picture from Accra and I love it!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
if you want to learn about culture, raise your hand...
Finally, my schedule is set! After four weeks of classes, my schedule is as follows:
English: Literature of the African Diaspora
taught by a politically correct former Cornell professor, African American woman. Likes to call on people at random to summarize the stories we have read. OF course, she called my name on the first day. Luckily I had read. Studying W.E.B. DuBois (who died in Ghana as a Ghana citizen), Toni Morrison, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Malcom X, etc. Interesting mix of white americans, african americans, europeans and ghanians that makes for fascinating discussions. a ghanaian asked, "why is the color of peoples skin so important in america and is that the only basis for racism?"
Poli Sci: Political Economy of Colonialism
Taught by a lively indian-ghanaian man who talks REALLLY fast! Loves political economy and says it 100 times per class. The class is a mix between him dictating from a polisci book just slow enough for us to copy it down (and everyone does) and discussion and explanation. The concepts range from extremely basic (political economy is the intersection of politics and economics) to really challenging (the radical vs. materialist interpretations for the economic motivations for imperialism...what??)
French: Francophone African Literature
Prof. is a flamboyant, very French ghanaian man who has an accent that is really easy to understand. Our reading list looks great, featuring authors from Cote d'Ivoire, Sierra Leone and Senegal, but so far the class is moving slow. For example, we discussed "what is literature?" for the entire first two hour class and "what are forms of literature" in the second class. things are picking up and that is the only class where group projects are required. I am the only obruni in that class, and everyone is eager to help me figure out where the readings can be picked up and logistics like that.
religion: religion in ghana
fascinating look at traditional african religion and how it morphed into christianity and islam in ghana. great mix of old traditions and explanations of new religious fervency. the teacher is a large old grandpa of a ghanaian man who ends every other sentence with "and so forf".
polisci: ghana from colonialism to independence
the teacher still has yet to show up for a lecture. i do have the syllabus though!
dance
LOVE THIS CLASS! every night when i go i get so energized and am so happy for the rest of the night. we dance and look like total idiots, but it's okay because as oni says, "we will laugh at you, you will laugh at us, and then you will laugh at yourself". we sweat A LOT (100 people in a pretty tight room) and the six-drum-band keeps us going for an hour and a half!
we just returned from cape coast for the afahye festival, which is a traditional festival celebrating the new year. So it was pretty much like new years at home- a HUGE parade with all the chiefs and queen mothers, dancing everywhere, drinking beginning at 10 am, music, parties on the street all night. The chiefs were sitting in couch-like chairs that were so beautifully decorated and the couches were held up in the air on stilts, supported by younger men below. As regal as they looked, the chiefs were still dancing up there in their chairs. At one point, our group had to walk IN the parade to get somewhere and I'm sure we were quite the spectacle. 50 obrunis walking awkwardly as everyone around us danced and had the best time. The old ladies bumped hips with us and the young men grabbed our hands, trying to get us to dance. which we did. it was so much fun and such a cool insight into a really authentically ghanaian experience.
peace and love
English: Literature of the African Diaspora
taught by a politically correct former Cornell professor, African American woman. Likes to call on people at random to summarize the stories we have read. OF course, she called my name on the first day. Luckily I had read. Studying W.E.B. DuBois (who died in Ghana as a Ghana citizen), Toni Morrison, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Malcom X, etc. Interesting mix of white americans, african americans, europeans and ghanians that makes for fascinating discussions. a ghanaian asked, "why is the color of peoples skin so important in america and is that the only basis for racism?"
Poli Sci: Political Economy of Colonialism
Taught by a lively indian-ghanaian man who talks REALLLY fast! Loves political economy and says it 100 times per class. The class is a mix between him dictating from a polisci book just slow enough for us to copy it down (and everyone does) and discussion and explanation. The concepts range from extremely basic (political economy is the intersection of politics and economics) to really challenging (the radical vs. materialist interpretations for the economic motivations for imperialism...what??)
French: Francophone African Literature
Prof. is a flamboyant, very French ghanaian man who has an accent that is really easy to understand. Our reading list looks great, featuring authors from Cote d'Ivoire, Sierra Leone and Senegal, but so far the class is moving slow. For example, we discussed "what is literature?" for the entire first two hour class and "what are forms of literature" in the second class. things are picking up and that is the only class where group projects are required. I am the only obruni in that class, and everyone is eager to help me figure out where the readings can be picked up and logistics like that.
religion: religion in ghana
fascinating look at traditional african religion and how it morphed into christianity and islam in ghana. great mix of old traditions and explanations of new religious fervency. the teacher is a large old grandpa of a ghanaian man who ends every other sentence with "and so forf".
polisci: ghana from colonialism to independence
the teacher still has yet to show up for a lecture. i do have the syllabus though!
dance
LOVE THIS CLASS! every night when i go i get so energized and am so happy for the rest of the night. we dance and look like total idiots, but it's okay because as oni says, "we will laugh at you, you will laugh at us, and then you will laugh at yourself". we sweat A LOT (100 people in a pretty tight room) and the six-drum-band keeps us going for an hour and a half!
we just returned from cape coast for the afahye festival, which is a traditional festival celebrating the new year. So it was pretty much like new years at home- a HUGE parade with all the chiefs and queen mothers, dancing everywhere, drinking beginning at 10 am, music, parties on the street all night. The chiefs were sitting in couch-like chairs that were so beautifully decorated and the couches were held up in the air on stilts, supported by younger men below. As regal as they looked, the chiefs were still dancing up there in their chairs. At one point, our group had to walk IN the parade to get somewhere and I'm sure we were quite the spectacle. 50 obrunis walking awkwardly as everyone around us danced and had the best time. The old ladies bumped hips with us and the young men grabbed our hands, trying to get us to dance. which we did. it was so much fun and such a cool insight into a really authentically ghanaian experience.
peace and love
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Church with Louisa
some kids in Kumasi
There is a woman named Louisa who sells baked goods outside of my dorm. She is somewhat of a celebrity, partly because she is a fixture on the bench, but also because she is very energetic and loves interacting with the students. She makes banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, pineapple pie, mango pie, and tuna pizza. (I’m not quite sure how successful the tuna pizza is…it looks and sounds terrible). She promises that her baked goods are “tantalizing” and that they will help us get A plusses in class. My friends and I started talking to her one night and she told us about her family who lives in the Volta region, her daughter, and her former job as a cook for a rich government family. We got the feeling that she had endured some hard times that caused her fall from that job to selling food independently on a college campus. We talk to her every night that she visits, and she calls us her “sweet ladies” and tells us that she wants to take us to meet her family in the Volta region. One night we asked her if she would take us to her church (she is roman catholic). Her face lit up and she said, “Of course!” So this morning we went to church with Louisa.
We met her outside campus at the tro-tro station. She was wearing a beautiful traditional outfit, made out of traditional African cloth. All of the ladies wear them; it’s a fitted shirt with a matching floor-length skirt. We rode the 35 peswas (comprable to cents) tro-tro to the Christ the King church. There was a mass before ours, so Louisa got busy introducing us to all of her friends who had just finished their service. She paraded us around before and after the service, introducing us to everyone and telling them we were students at Legon. The mass was pretty similar to the other catholic masses I’ve attended in America. There were some different prayers that I did not recognize, but the mass included communion, a sermon and hymns… except African drums accompanied the organ and a choir led the songs.
It’s really interesting to think about how devout many Ghanaians are. The country is about 60% Christian, and EVERYONE goes to church. In America, I feel like a lot of people associate themselves with a religion but rarely go to church (myself included). In Ghana, people actually practice their proclaimed religion. What’s strange to me is how Christianity is so engrained into the culture here. It’s not a traditional African religion, and I know that colonizers worked hard to convert the Ghanaians, but I would think that some elements of traditional religions would be apparent. This is not the case at all. Western customs of religion are so weaved into the culture.
After church, Louisa invited us to her sister Eugenia’s house for lunch. We all got back on a tro-tro and headed to her sister’s home. Mid-ride, Eugenia called Louisa and told her that she actually could not have us over for lunch because she had to go to a wedding. Just like that, she left for the wedding. (Another example of the casual nature of the culture). So Louisa called the other sister, Kate, who was happy to have us over. We took two tro-tros and walked through unmarked roads to finally arrive at her sister’s house. The house was very nice, with ceiling fans, a television, running water and a full kitchen, similar to an American home. Kate is a seamstress and her husband (whose name I could not understand) is an accountant who travels frequently to the UK. They have three children- two boys and one girl. Even though the family had already eaten lunch, they wasted no time getting our lunch ready. They made us fried plaintains, a salsa-like red sauce, and an entire fish each. The fish still had all the skin on it, complete with eyeballs and a tail. It was soo good. The entire time we were there, the family was so hospitable and welcoming. The husband chatted with us about politics, telling us how much he loves President Obama because he’s a “man of the people”. He told us about plans to modernize Accra roads (many of which are VERY bumpy and unpaved), including an overpass that they are building in front of the university. When we left, Kate offered to have us back any time to have her make us a dress, and the husband reinforced her invitation by saying, “you sisters are welcome to our home any time”. Their hospitality really touched me. They did not know us at all, and it must have been a little strange having three obrunis come into their house to be fed. We were so appreciative of how welcome they made us feel. It was a really wonderful experience.
School is interesting. A lot of the lectures are really basic material, like for my polisci classes we are discussing motivations for colonialism, and that can be frustrating. I have a great English class, though, and it's really fun being in class with Ghanaians and other international students. As for entertainment, my friends and I have to be pretty creative when it comes to fun things to do during the week. We try out lots of new restaurants, have movie nights in our dorm rooms, and play cards. it kind of reminds me of camping in a way- there is not a whole lot to do, but we always have fun. On weekends, there is great nightlife in Accra! The bars and clubs are really fun.
Classes are in full swing and our EAP group is going to cape coast this weekend for the Panfest! I'll be celebrating my birthday on the bus.
Friday, August 28, 2009
A few things...
this is my dorm, called ISH 2 (International Students Hostel)
the night market, which has local food stands, fruit and vegetables. right across from my dorm!
some things I have learned in Ghana:
1. I am the only obruni in two of my 200 person french classes and it's a really weird role reversal!
2. this country is HIGHLY christian, but I did not forsee prayers before english class, thanking god for the opportunity to study and also thanking him for good grades...
3. It is culturally unacceptable to use your left hand to give things to people. A woman accidentally handed me a water bottle with her left hand, and said, "excuse my left, please pray for me". she was clearly very embarrassed.
4. there are lots of different kinds of desks and chairs in the lecture halls
5. all the students here are bilingual! they speak english, their mother tongue (or their native language) and a lot of them are learning other languages like french, spanish and arabic. in my french class we had an exercise where we had to translate a french sentence into english and then into your mother tongue. everyone laughed when it was my turn because english is my mother tongue...
one of my good friends got sick and had to go to the hospital to get her blood drawn to test for malaria. it was a crazy experience. she waited for 3 hours to see the doctor, and she was very sick. there was one doctor for 32 patients. once the doctor finally saw her, she was moved to a different ward because there wasn't enough room where she originally was. there was a total lack of communication between doctors (my friends and i had to be messengers) and a confusion over what medicines to give her. there was also no soap anywhere in the hospital. regardless, the nurses were really kind to her and tried to make her as comfortable as possible. three of us stayed the night with her and she was released. it was crazy being in an african hospital and even though it's right across the street from the university, in one of the biggest cities in west africa, it was still very understaffed and undersupplied.
more pictures coming soon, the internet just slowed down on me.
peace and love
Friday, August 21, 2009
Classes
Classes started this week, and the whole process of school starting is completely hectic but also refreshing. Students typically sign up for classes in one or two departments only, and because my major is International Relations and is interdepartmental, my personal registration process involved A LOT of walking. From my dorm, it's about a 20-minute walk to the center of campus. From there, departments are scattered around... my furthest class is a 30 minute walk from my dorm. Classes technically started this week, but a lot of professors don't bother showing up until next week since there are so many students adding and dropping. Last week, I walked around to all the departments I wanted to take classes with, filled out a registration form at each one (each deparment had a different form) and wrote down which classes I wanted to take. When you register, there is no timetable. The times of classes are released after registration. I registered with five departments: political science, english, french, dance and sociology. I registered for about 12 classes, which is twice as many as I want to take, but the students here register for more classes than they can take in case of time conflicts. The whole process has really taught me so much more about Ghanaian concepts of time. Sometimes it's frustrating that professors don't show up, or that people are over one hour late, even for One gear Katie (right, Dad?)!
My schedule ended up consisting of three polisci classes, three english classes, four french classes and a dance class. My favorite class so far is the french class. It's called french translation and there are two professors: one for french to english translation and another for english to french! Most of the professors and lecturers are Ghanaian, and sometimes it's really hard to understand them through their thick accents, but I am getting better at hearing what they are saying. My other favorite class is the dance class! We are learning three dances this semester and my teacher is Oh Nii, the man who taught us dance at the very beginning of my trip! He teaches with such energy and inspiration and I love that everyone really gets into the dancing instead of being embarrassed. The class is about half Americans and half Africans, which means that we can really learn well because most of the Africans already know the dances.
I am still loving it here, and trying to immerse myself into every aspect of the culture. I'm looking forward to volunteering somewhere and also joining the swim team!
Pictures are coming soon, the internet here is mind-numbingly slow.
peace and love from ghana.
My schedule ended up consisting of three polisci classes, three english classes, four french classes and a dance class. My favorite class so far is the french class. It's called french translation and there are two professors: one for french to english translation and another for english to french! Most of the professors and lecturers are Ghanaian, and sometimes it's really hard to understand them through their thick accents, but I am getting better at hearing what they are saying. My other favorite class is the dance class! We are learning three dances this semester and my teacher is Oh Nii, the man who taught us dance at the very beginning of my trip! He teaches with such energy and inspiration and I love that everyone really gets into the dancing instead of being embarrassed. The class is about half Americans and half Africans, which means that we can really learn well because most of the Africans already know the dances.
I am still loving it here, and trying to immerse myself into every aspect of the culture. I'm looking forward to volunteering somewhere and also joining the swim team!
Pictures are coming soon, the internet here is mind-numbingly slow.
peace and love from ghana.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Vacation on a vacation
After being in
As obrunis, we are a constant spectacle. I have to prepare myself for the barrage of hassling as I walk down the streets with my EAP friends. Everyone wants us to buy something from them, and each seller promises the best price. Sometimes it is really draining but I have tried to adopt a Ghanaian attitude about it; smile, say hi and walk on. I think the main reason why so many people try to make us buy their goods is that white skin is associated directly with America, which is associated directly with money.
That being said, I have had some great experiences with individual people that really demonstrate what a kind culture this is. After some friends and I traveled for the weekend, we took a tro-tro (a public transportation van that is really cheap but somewhat difficult to use- as in, not always sure where the tro-tro is going, mad rush to get on it and the possibility of getting left behind, etc.) back to the university. The tro-tro let us off at a really busy intersection in downtown Accra. We didn’t know that this was our stop, so in a mad rush to get off, my cell phone dropped out of my bag and into the back area of the van. Apparently a man grabbed my phone and tried to run off with it. Another man, whose name I later learned is Pastor Robert, stopped the man and took my phone back from him. Pastor Robert came up to me and my three friends and asked if the phone was one of ours. I told him it was mine, and he proceeded to lecture me for ten minutes about how careful we need to be about our personal belongings and how easily they can get stolen. We all were in shock at the chaos of the situation and at how adamant he was about our safety. Then he hailed us a cab, got us a good price for it and took down my phone number. We all got into the cab, still in shock. 30 minutes later, Pastor Robert called me to make sure we had gotten back to campus safely. At first his call struck me as creepy and weird, but when all he wanted was to make sure we had returned safely, I had a different view. He didn’t know us at all, but he saw how overwhelmed and helpless we were in the middle of this busy intersection and tried to help. Most people that I meet in Ghana are friendly and are genuinely interested in knowing you and what you’re all about. In turn, they can offer you an interesting glimpse into their lives. I really enjoy this openness. It is expected that when you walk past someone on the street, you greet them instead of just ignoring their existence like we often do in the US. In customer interactions, before you tell the cashier what you want, you ask how they’re doing. The label “obruni” is another extension of this openness. It literally means “white person” and doesn’t really have a negative connotation; it’s just a physical observation. In turn, the term “obebedi” means “black person” and can be used just as freely. Instead of attaching stigma and connotations to these terms, they are common terms of identification. I find this practice refreshing and much healthier than the US tendency to tiptoe around labels of race.
Last weekend we went to Kakum National park in Cape Coast. The national park is a rainforest that is really rich in biodiversity. Our entire group of 50 people did the canopy walk, which is seven rope bridges tied between talllll trees 40 meters above the rainforest canopy. It was so beautiful seeing everything from up that high. Next we went to the Elmina Slave Castle, where we learned that between 8 and 12 million slaves passed through the castle under Portuguese and Dutch rule. It was a moving experience to be in the same cells the slaves lived in for months with minimal food and extremely harsh treatment.
After these group activities, 12 of us decided to go on a weekend trip to a nearby beach resort called Safari Beach resort. It is right on the coast, with picturesque huts, an outdoor kitchen and lobby and white sand. It was so beautiful! Our group went on a canoe trip in the neighboring village, guided by three brothers who were 19, 20 and 22 and had never left their village. It was so fun talking with them. They told us about their Adventist church, the chief of their village and their relation to the queen mother (their aunt), and their schooling. Each village has both a chief and a queen mother. The queen mother is not married to the chief and is not the chief’s mother. She is the most senior woman in the village and is chosen based on her wisdom and fariness. She is the chief’s counterpart and chooses the successor to the chief. Because these boys are related to the queen mother, they are eligible to become the next chief of their village. The chiefs are represented in the national government and are not primitive, but are a form of local governance. It was really awesome how much we could relate to them. (They told us they love Rihanna, Beyonce and Akon.) The oldest brother is paying for his two younger brothers’ schooling, so his English was not as strong. We met the boys later that day to eat lunch at a taco stand on the beach (random, but we were craving California food!). They weren’t quite sure how to eat the tacos but I’m sure that having five American girls instructing them on how to do it all at once really helped. The owner of the taco stand is Paco, or Patrick. He is a multi-millionaire in America who has dedicated his life to starting sustainable communities in third-world countries. He has successfully completed communities in Papa New Guinea and elsewhere, and is currently starting a project in the boys’ village of Akwiida. He wants to implement solar and wind energy and have the village own 100% of it within the next 7 years. He gave us his email address and urged us to contact him if we were interested in helping out. It was so inspiring to see someone in the job of their dreams, living on the beach and helping the village modernize itself in a really environmentally conscious way.
Now we are back at the University for class registration! Last night we tried fufu, which is a traditional African dish that's basically a ball of dough in a bowl of spicy soup. You eat the dough with your hands, so it's totally normal to see people here picking pieces of dough off, eating it with their hands and then licking their fingers afterwards. The Ghanaian ladies laughed at us as we tried to eat it- there's totally an etiquette to eating with your hands that we definitely do not know yet. Today I walked around to all the different departments to sign up for my classes that I want to take. I won’t know the times of the classes until Monday so I’ll have to drop a few that conflict. Some friends and I are going to Salsa Night on the beach tonight- features a live band!
Peace and love from Ghana.
Katie
Friday, July 31, 2009
First Week In ghana!
After a 15 hour flight to Dubai, a 12 hour layover and another 5 hour flight to Accra, I finally arrived in Ghana on Sunday! Dubai was the cleanest place I have ever been. The airport was spotless, uncrowded and brand new. A few girls and I took a taxi tour around Dubai when we got to the hotel. We saw the tallest building in the world (it was so tall we couldn't see the top from inside the taxi) and a 7-star hotel that is shaped like a sail and costs $5,000/night. We also drove onto a palmtree-shaped island with multi-million dollar homes lining the island. These homes have double beach access and Michael Jackson owned a home there! The craziest thing about Dubai was how much of it was under construction. Everywhere we looked there were cranes and construction zones. The "main street" is more like a highway lined with tallllll buildings and American fast food chains and stores.
When we arrived at the Accra airport, there was an instant tropical, laid back feel. The airport is really small and the customs check was almost non-existent! The woman did not even check my passport or my bags, she just waved me through. EAP picked all 50 of us up at the airport and we took buses to campus which is about 20 minutes from the airport.
The campus is so beautiful! Ghana is so green and the soil is dark red. On campus, every building is white with red tiles. The campus is probably one and a half times bigger than Davis- so it's really big! Everyone walks here, and our guides told us that only international students ride bikes. Each department has their own building and there are six residence halls (they are building two more!). My dorm, the International hostel, is a little far from the main road of campus but it's close to the pool!
We are doing our orientation program for the next two and a half weeks and it counts for credit. In the mornings we go to lectures on Ghanaian culture, history, geography and Twi (the native language) that are taught by University of Ghana professors. They have such thick accents and sometimes it's hard to understand them, but they keep telling us it will get easier! They provide us with three meals a day. The food is delicious! It's a lot like Indian food; very spicy. It's mostly sauce/curry-type dishes always served with rice and meat.
My favorite activity so far has been the nightly dancing/drumming classes. The teacher is an old Ghanaian man named Oh Nii who hobbles around with a cane. He always tells us it's "time to boogie". When we "boogie" particularly well, he throws his cane to the side and shakes his hips just as well as his 20 year old dancers. They can all move their bodies in ways that americans just can't. It's really funny to see the african dancers next to our UC students- but everyone gets really into it and tries to do the dances right! I'm going to take a drumming class here. The teacher, who is one of Oh Nii's drummers, makes his own drums and has offered to make a bunch of students their own for his class.
Anywhere you drive in Ghana there are people standing in the middle of the traffic lanes selling goods like water, cheap toys and food. The women carry these goods in baskets on their heads. They stand in traffic waiting for people to buy their items and call to people to try to entice them. They are not scared of cars hitting them and will go up to random cars and wash their windows while they are stuck in traffic.
We went into Accra yesterday to a market called Medina. It was by far the most exciting and overwhelming experience thus far. It is a maze of dirt pathways lined with shacks of people selling old shoes, American goods and dried fish. The streets are lined with sewage in trenches and on the ground. Kids were running around the market barefoot, yelling "Obruni!" (white person) every time we passed. We definitely attracted a lot of attention. I felt like a celebrity because each road we went down people were trying to grab us to buy their goods and welcome us to Ghana. The people at the market were selling every single good you can imagine. They had everything ranging from raw pig's feet and dried whole fishes laying out on tables to toiletries, fabric to make dresses, and cell phones. One man held his baby out to my friend Andi because white people are considered precious and angelic and he wanted her to bless his child. Being in Medina was such a contrast with being at the University. It is clear that students who go to UG are among the upper middle class here. Everyone is dressed well in name brand clothes and can afford an education of $4,000 a year whereas the people in Medina were scraping by, living in dirty conditions selling used goods. It was an eye-opening experience and it really reminded me why I came to Africa in the first place. While I am here to go to school, I really can't wait to learn more about the NGOs in the area and how they are providing pure water for the exponentially growing population.
No matter where I go in Ghana, everyone is so friendly and welcoming. People here are excited and passionate about life. They are happy to talk to us and have really interesting stories to tell us. They love when we use Twi words in conversation! Time seems to move slower here, as events happen as people show up, not at a dictated time on the clock. A rule of thumb here is to add an hour or two to the announced time and you'll be on time. It's really amazing to experience this culture and I can't wait to live here for five more months!
peace,
katie
When we arrived at the Accra airport, there was an instant tropical, laid back feel. The airport is really small and the customs check was almost non-existent! The woman did not even check my passport or my bags, she just waved me through. EAP picked all 50 of us up at the airport and we took buses to campus which is about 20 minutes from the airport.
The campus is so beautiful! Ghana is so green and the soil is dark red. On campus, every building is white with red tiles. The campus is probably one and a half times bigger than Davis- so it's really big! Everyone walks here, and our guides told us that only international students ride bikes. Each department has their own building and there are six residence halls (they are building two more!). My dorm, the International hostel, is a little far from the main road of campus but it's close to the pool!
We are doing our orientation program for the next two and a half weeks and it counts for credit. In the mornings we go to lectures on Ghanaian culture, history, geography and Twi (the native language) that are taught by University of Ghana professors. They have such thick accents and sometimes it's hard to understand them, but they keep telling us it will get easier! They provide us with three meals a day. The food is delicious! It's a lot like Indian food; very spicy. It's mostly sauce/curry-type dishes always served with rice and meat.
My favorite activity so far has been the nightly dancing/drumming classes. The teacher is an old Ghanaian man named Oh Nii who hobbles around with a cane. He always tells us it's "time to boogie". When we "boogie" particularly well, he throws his cane to the side and shakes his hips just as well as his 20 year old dancers. They can all move their bodies in ways that americans just can't. It's really funny to see the african dancers next to our UC students- but everyone gets really into it and tries to do the dances right! I'm going to take a drumming class here. The teacher, who is one of Oh Nii's drummers, makes his own drums and has offered to make a bunch of students their own for his class.
Anywhere you drive in Ghana there are people standing in the middle of the traffic lanes selling goods like water, cheap toys and food. The women carry these goods in baskets on their heads. They stand in traffic waiting for people to buy their items and call to people to try to entice them. They are not scared of cars hitting them and will go up to random cars and wash their windows while they are stuck in traffic.
We went into Accra yesterday to a market called Medina. It was by far the most exciting and overwhelming experience thus far. It is a maze of dirt pathways lined with shacks of people selling old shoes, American goods and dried fish. The streets are lined with sewage in trenches and on the ground. Kids were running around the market barefoot, yelling "Obruni!" (white person) every time we passed. We definitely attracted a lot of attention. I felt like a celebrity because each road we went down people were trying to grab us to buy their goods and welcome us to Ghana. The people at the market were selling every single good you can imagine. They had everything ranging from raw pig's feet and dried whole fishes laying out on tables to toiletries, fabric to make dresses, and cell phones. One man held his baby out to my friend Andi because white people are considered precious and angelic and he wanted her to bless his child. Being in Medina was such a contrast with being at the University. It is clear that students who go to UG are among the upper middle class here. Everyone is dressed well in name brand clothes and can afford an education of $4,000 a year whereas the people in Medina were scraping by, living in dirty conditions selling used goods. It was an eye-opening experience and it really reminded me why I came to Africa in the first place. While I am here to go to school, I really can't wait to learn more about the NGOs in the area and how they are providing pure water for the exponentially growing population.
No matter where I go in Ghana, everyone is so friendly and welcoming. People here are excited and passionate about life. They are happy to talk to us and have really interesting stories to tell us. They love when we use Twi words in conversation! Time seems to move slower here, as events happen as people show up, not at a dictated time on the clock. A rule of thumb here is to add an hour or two to the announced time and you'll be on time. It's really amazing to experience this culture and I can't wait to live here for five more months!
peace,
katie
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