A recent dialogue with my Ghanaian friend, Julie, a 29 year-old woman with a farm and 6 children:
"...It pains me to think about you people from other countries. You have no farms. You have to buy EVERYTHING. Me, if I am hungry, I go to my farm and dig cassava to pound fufu or I take maize to make banku or kenkey. But for you... every small thing, you must leave your house to go and buy. If you have no job, you will die because you cannot afford food. So I see that life is very difficult for you. Even my sister in Accra...even though she has money and can buy a big bag of rice and a gallon of oil, I don't like visiting her because she does not have a farm. Me, I like food pa-pa!" (a lot)
First of all – Happy belated new years to everyone! My apologies that the greeting is arriving so late but I have been quite busy lately. As I mentioned before, my boyfriend Kevin visited me over the Christmas holidays. After a cancelled flight and many delays, the airline finally put him on a flight from New York to Ghana in first class! Although this would be a great treat and delight to the average person, the fact that he went from seats large enough to lay down and roll around to the cramped, congested and pungent heat of the Ghanaian tro-tros made the transition a little more difficult than what would otherwise have been the case.
Indeed, coming from a cold, snowy climate to the hot and dry Ghanaian Harmattan is not an easy transition, especially when tro-tros are involved. After one particularly painstakingly long and hot journey, we alighted from the vehicle and I expected Kevin to be somewhat less than cheery. Instead, he had a weird, leering twinkle in his eye as he whispered “I'm sorry to tell you this... but I just died an hour ago.” I'm still not entirely sure what he meant by that, but I guess after being tortured for so many hours, there's no where to look but up. He was quite optimistic about tro-tros after that instance.
Some highlights of the trip included having a pre-Christmas celebration at Julie's house (complete with delicious pineapple, fufu, fresh chicken and presents sent by my mom), spending Christmas day on the beach (I have to be quite honest when I say that it didn't really feel much like Christmas, and it was really only half-way through the day that I actually recalled what day it was), surfing (for the second time in Ghana and in my life – Kevin was not so strong with this activity), a visit to Wli Falls (the largest waterfall in West Africa – very lovely), dodging VERY shifty Ghanaian fireworks on a rooftop bar with Malian volunteers for New Years Eve, and watching Kevin (a pretty flexible and acrobatic guy by Canadian standards) get outdone at his own sport by 7 year-old Ghanaian children at Kokobrite Beach.
Currently, I have to admit that I am feeling just a teensy bit homesick - the first time that I have really felt this way since being in Ghana. This feeling came about, I'm sure, after Kevin left, since he was really the first truly familiar thing I've seen in Ghana, and it made me more sensitive to the other things I'm missing now that he's gone. Other than that, somehow the days are STILL getting hotter, work is slow and in a state of confusion at the moment, my research still has not been approved andddd... well, I will stop complaining there.
Anyway, I hope everyone is doing well. Thank you to everyone who sent me Christmas cards and well-wishes for the New Year... and to everyone who sent their words of encouragement when I had malaria. (By the way, malaria is not pleasant, but it's seriousness is about equivalent to the flu in Canada – everyone gets it, complains, deals with it, and moves on with their lives.)
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Receiving Compliments in Ghana
The vast differences in cultural understanding can be neatly identified in the ways in which Ghanaian people give compliments. So many times during my stay here, I have been accosted by statements to which I often initially take offense. However, upon noticing my disgruntled or confused expression the complimenter generally insists that what they've said is actually a GOOD thing.
Example #1: “Madame Becky, your earrings are killing me!” Upon hearing this, my immediate mental image was the slow, painful death that would ensue if trying to murder someone with an earring. But maybe that's just my sadistic mind. As it turns out, it's not that far off from Western expressions of saying something is “sick” or “cool.”
Example #2: “You are growing BIG!” or, even more delightful... “Ghana is making you FAT!” I receive these remarks on at least a weekly basis, if not more frequently. Generally, when these statements occur in shorter intervals of time, I become driven to go jogging for maybe one or two mornings and stop eating fufu for 3 or so days. But exercising in this country is just way too difficult, as is avoiding fufu or other foods in the form of carbohydrate-rich balls. Nonetheless, saying someone is “fat” or “big” is a compliment here because Ghanaians like big people, especially women. It is desirable to be big/fat because it demonstrates that you come from a family wealthy enough to fill your belly to the brim with food everyday, you have children to work for you, and you are fertile and womanly.
Example #3: One particularly startling 'compliment' that I received yesterday was “You look like you've just given birth!” This confused me greatly, to say the least, as in my mind, I imagined a woman laying on the birthing table covered in sweat and baby residue. I, on the other hand, although sweating an average amount for Ghana, was sitting quietly at a table, not exerting myself at all. But, as it turns out, she was actually just referring to the clothing I was wearing – a white top and blue skirt and, in her words “my bright smile and expression” that would doubtlessly match the beaming face of a woman who just brought a child into the world. This again reflects the cultural priorities in the country, since giving birth to a plenitude of children is generally a very desirable thing to do, and doing so is a major source of pride and happiness for the mother and family. Basically, why would someone NOT want to look like they've just given birth?
Example #4: Although not so culturally-specific or confusing, another rather cute compliment that I received was the following: “Sister Becky, today your beautyness has come.” Just like that. It's nice how beautyness happens sometimes.
I hope everyone is doing well. I have to say that I'm not yet really missing the whole “Christmas season” thing because it's difficult to fathom Christmas when it's 30+ degrees everyday. As most of you probably know, my boyfriend Kevin is coming to visit me December 20th, and we will be spending Christmas on the beach. I am excited!
Example #1: “Madame Becky, your earrings are killing me!” Upon hearing this, my immediate mental image was the slow, painful death that would ensue if trying to murder someone with an earring. But maybe that's just my sadistic mind. As it turns out, it's not that far off from Western expressions of saying something is “sick” or “cool.”
Example #2: “You are growing BIG!” or, even more delightful... “Ghana is making you FAT!” I receive these remarks on at least a weekly basis, if not more frequently. Generally, when these statements occur in shorter intervals of time, I become driven to go jogging for maybe one or two mornings and stop eating fufu for 3 or so days. But exercising in this country is just way too difficult, as is avoiding fufu or other foods in the form of carbohydrate-rich balls. Nonetheless, saying someone is “fat” or “big” is a compliment here because Ghanaians like big people, especially women. It is desirable to be big/fat because it demonstrates that you come from a family wealthy enough to fill your belly to the brim with food everyday, you have children to work for you, and you are fertile and womanly.
Example #3: One particularly startling 'compliment' that I received yesterday was “You look like you've just given birth!” This confused me greatly, to say the least, as in my mind, I imagined a woman laying on the birthing table covered in sweat and baby residue. I, on the other hand, although sweating an average amount for Ghana, was sitting quietly at a table, not exerting myself at all. But, as it turns out, she was actually just referring to the clothing I was wearing – a white top and blue skirt and, in her words “my bright smile and expression” that would doubtlessly match the beaming face of a woman who just brought a child into the world. This again reflects the cultural priorities in the country, since giving birth to a plenitude of children is generally a very desirable thing to do, and doing so is a major source of pride and happiness for the mother and family. Basically, why would someone NOT want to look like they've just given birth?
Example #4: Although not so culturally-specific or confusing, another rather cute compliment that I received was the following: “Sister Becky, today your beautyness has come.” Just like that. It's nice how beautyness happens sometimes.
I hope everyone is doing well. I have to say that I'm not yet really missing the whole “Christmas season” thing because it's difficult to fathom Christmas when it's 30+ degrees everyday. As most of you probably know, my boyfriend Kevin is coming to visit me December 20th, and we will be spending Christmas on the beach. I am excited!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
More than half-way through
As of Nov. 11, 2010, I was officially half-way through my IDS co-op placement in Ghana. The time has gone VERY quickly, and I imagine the upcoming 4.5 months will go even faster.
Frequently, on my daily excursions, I run into curious locals who pose the question “So how do you find Ghana?” Generally, I try to answer the question in the way that people expect me to respond: “Ghana is a niiiiiice place. A very cool place.” (“cool” as in the people are peaceful and non-threatening, the way that most locals describe their fellow Ghanaians).
But really, outside of this quick, impersonal banter, how do I find Ghana?
For the majority of (non-IDS) friends and family members back in Canada, I feel that I am expected to report great sufferings, near-death illnesses and a plea to return home. The “I-told-you-so” attitude, if you will. But, apart from some slight annoyances, I can essentially sum up my feelings for Ghana in three short words: I love it. I apologize in advance for anyone back home who may be disappointed by this statement.
Unfortunately, the rationale for this love is not quite so easily explained.
Upon reading my previous blog entries, I have come to realize that upon initial arrival, Ghana and I definitely went through a honeymoon phase. During this time, everything was new and wonderful. I was able to laugh off all annoyances and scamper about trying to etch a niche for myself. Next, came the adjustment phase. At this time, some things really began to get on my nerves, especially when my Canadian methods of problem-solving generally did nothing to resolve issues I encountered here. Now, I can safely say that I have reached the normalcy phase. The things that were once so new and exciting, or frustrating and difficult have both equalized to the extent that I am now just living a regular life. Indeed, many of my personal reactions to everyday events that arise are quite similar to those of most Ghanaians. An example of this is power outages. Upon first arrival in Ghana, I found power outages to be amusing: “ha ha ha ...oh silly Ghana.” Then, I found these power outages to be exasperating. They interrupted the showing of my well-planned powerpoint lessons, caused everything in my fridge to spoil and caused my fan to stop spinning, leaving me at the mercy of the smoldering afternoon heat. But now, the power going off is just something that is anticipated in everyday life. One finds alternative ways of doing things: preparing different forms of presentations, buying less perishable food, becoming increasingly used to the sun's heat.
Although I don't exactly know when this transition occurred, upon arriving at this new stage of normalcy, I feel as though I am finally able to make a more educated comparison of my life in Ghana and in Canada. In Canada, on reflecting back, I feel that we are always anticipating what is to come, instead of living each day as we want Рas clich̩ as that may sound. But really, especially in the winter, everyone is always anticipating the summer, or, at the very least, the next upcoming long weekend. It is as though we only really become alive during select moments of life that are the most opportune for us.
I find that the opposite is true for Ghana. Although one could likely make the claim that the work ethic of many Ghanaians may not be up to par with that of the average Canadian, the extent to which life is lived in this country is so much greater than in my own. Indeed, upon initially meeting many Ghanaians, the level of enthusiasm observed from simple things such as greeting new people, chatting on a tro-tro or even watching a movie – exceeds the level of enthusiasm displayed by most Canadian adults in an entire month. In my opinion, the capacity for most Ghanaians to enjoy the most simple things in life (such as each other's company) far outweighs the luxuries often thought to be associated with increased levels of happiness in Canadian life.
Speaking more personally, even in Canada, I enjoy greeting strangers and making new acquaintances – despite the fact that there are generally unspoken (and very restricted) boundaries of where meeting new people is appropriate. For instance, using the TTC as an example, it is expected that one should enter the bus/subway and sit quietly in a seat the furthest from where everyone else is seated, without looking or speaking to anyone in the process. Myself, I love children, but even greeting young children in Toronto often causes the parent to look at me very suspiciously before forcefully and abruptly taking their child away from my sight and arms' reach – as if this 5-foot blonde girl is a major threat to their child's well-being.
On the other hand, on entering a tro-tro or taxi in Ghana, it is expected that you greet the person sitting next to you, if not the entire load of people present. From there, strangers spark up discussions about things happenings in the country, laugh or shout at things taking place outside of the tro-tro, and collectively scold the driver if he is driving unsafely. Phone numbers are frequently exchanged, laughs are shared and arguments are pursued. Indeed, an average ride on a tro-tro often feels more like a family vacation than a public transit ride with a group of strangers.
On a different note, some of my students began their first radio program on Sunday, on the topic of the importance of sending female children to school. We ran into a bit of a dilemma when trying to decide in which language to host the show, since Ghana is composed of a very diverse array of languages. The girls began the show very nervously in English (a second language, for all of them) and had trouble answering some of the questions that were brought forth. After they had whizzed through the hour's worth of questions we had prepared in about 8 minutes, we all started to panic and had to go to a music break. During the break, I told the girls to speak in Twi instead of English, and, on returning to the show, their level of confidence increased ten-fold. The rest of the show (although I couldn't understand much) went quite smoothly, with the girls attending to all questions brought forth by listeners calling in to the show. I was really proud of them, and yelled out excitedly after the hour when the DJ motioned that the show was finished. Unfortunately, I didn't realize the microphone was still on and that everyone could hear my shouting. The DJ laughed and apologized to everyone...it was just the silly Obruoni standing next to him at the station. He then proceeded to introduce me to all of the listeners.
In all, I am very excited for what the girls have accomplished and what they will continue to accomplish in the upcoming weeks. Tomorrow, I am taking a group of girls to meet with the Queen Mother of my village to discuss her opinions on issues that women in the community are facing and to get some ideas about ways that the students can help out in the community.
I just made some ground nut (peanut) soup with sweet potatoes and it is DELICIOUS. Also, it is mango season and I am quite happy about that. My tomatoes and basil are both growing quite nicely.
Ghana <3
Frequently, on my daily excursions, I run into curious locals who pose the question “So how do you find Ghana?” Generally, I try to answer the question in the way that people expect me to respond: “Ghana is a niiiiiice place. A very cool place.” (“cool” as in the people are peaceful and non-threatening, the way that most locals describe their fellow Ghanaians).
But really, outside of this quick, impersonal banter, how do I find Ghana?
For the majority of (non-IDS) friends and family members back in Canada, I feel that I am expected to report great sufferings, near-death illnesses and a plea to return home. The “I-told-you-so” attitude, if you will. But, apart from some slight annoyances, I can essentially sum up my feelings for Ghana in three short words: I love it. I apologize in advance for anyone back home who may be disappointed by this statement.
Unfortunately, the rationale for this love is not quite so easily explained.
Upon reading my previous blog entries, I have come to realize that upon initial arrival, Ghana and I definitely went through a honeymoon phase. During this time, everything was new and wonderful. I was able to laugh off all annoyances and scamper about trying to etch a niche for myself. Next, came the adjustment phase. At this time, some things really began to get on my nerves, especially when my Canadian methods of problem-solving generally did nothing to resolve issues I encountered here. Now, I can safely say that I have reached the normalcy phase. The things that were once so new and exciting, or frustrating and difficult have both equalized to the extent that I am now just living a regular life. Indeed, many of my personal reactions to everyday events that arise are quite similar to those of most Ghanaians. An example of this is power outages. Upon first arrival in Ghana, I found power outages to be amusing: “ha ha ha ...oh silly Ghana.” Then, I found these power outages to be exasperating. They interrupted the showing of my well-planned powerpoint lessons, caused everything in my fridge to spoil and caused my fan to stop spinning, leaving me at the mercy of the smoldering afternoon heat. But now, the power going off is just something that is anticipated in everyday life. One finds alternative ways of doing things: preparing different forms of presentations, buying less perishable food, becoming increasingly used to the sun's heat.
Although I don't exactly know when this transition occurred, upon arriving at this new stage of normalcy, I feel as though I am finally able to make a more educated comparison of my life in Ghana and in Canada. In Canada, on reflecting back, I feel that we are always anticipating what is to come, instead of living each day as we want Рas clich̩ as that may sound. But really, especially in the winter, everyone is always anticipating the summer, or, at the very least, the next upcoming long weekend. It is as though we only really become alive during select moments of life that are the most opportune for us.
I find that the opposite is true for Ghana. Although one could likely make the claim that the work ethic of many Ghanaians may not be up to par with that of the average Canadian, the extent to which life is lived in this country is so much greater than in my own. Indeed, upon initially meeting many Ghanaians, the level of enthusiasm observed from simple things such as greeting new people, chatting on a tro-tro or even watching a movie – exceeds the level of enthusiasm displayed by most Canadian adults in an entire month. In my opinion, the capacity for most Ghanaians to enjoy the most simple things in life (such as each other's company) far outweighs the luxuries often thought to be associated with increased levels of happiness in Canadian life.
Speaking more personally, even in Canada, I enjoy greeting strangers and making new acquaintances – despite the fact that there are generally unspoken (and very restricted) boundaries of where meeting new people is appropriate. For instance, using the TTC as an example, it is expected that one should enter the bus/subway and sit quietly in a seat the furthest from where everyone else is seated, without looking or speaking to anyone in the process. Myself, I love children, but even greeting young children in Toronto often causes the parent to look at me very suspiciously before forcefully and abruptly taking their child away from my sight and arms' reach – as if this 5-foot blonde girl is a major threat to their child's well-being.
On the other hand, on entering a tro-tro or taxi in Ghana, it is expected that you greet the person sitting next to you, if not the entire load of people present. From there, strangers spark up discussions about things happenings in the country, laugh or shout at things taking place outside of the tro-tro, and collectively scold the driver if he is driving unsafely. Phone numbers are frequently exchanged, laughs are shared and arguments are pursued. Indeed, an average ride on a tro-tro often feels more like a family vacation than a public transit ride with a group of strangers.
On a different note, some of my students began their first radio program on Sunday, on the topic of the importance of sending female children to school. We ran into a bit of a dilemma when trying to decide in which language to host the show, since Ghana is composed of a very diverse array of languages. The girls began the show very nervously in English (a second language, for all of them) and had trouble answering some of the questions that were brought forth. After they had whizzed through the hour's worth of questions we had prepared in about 8 minutes, we all started to panic and had to go to a music break. During the break, I told the girls to speak in Twi instead of English, and, on returning to the show, their level of confidence increased ten-fold. The rest of the show (although I couldn't understand much) went quite smoothly, with the girls attending to all questions brought forth by listeners calling in to the show. I was really proud of them, and yelled out excitedly after the hour when the DJ motioned that the show was finished. Unfortunately, I didn't realize the microphone was still on and that everyone could hear my shouting. The DJ laughed and apologized to everyone...it was just the silly Obruoni standing next to him at the station. He then proceeded to introduce me to all of the listeners.
In all, I am very excited for what the girls have accomplished and what they will continue to accomplish in the upcoming weeks. Tomorrow, I am taking a group of girls to meet with the Queen Mother of my village to discuss her opinions on issues that women in the community are facing and to get some ideas about ways that the students can help out in the community.
I just made some ground nut (peanut) soup with sweet potatoes and it is DELICIOUS. Also, it is mango season and I am quite happy about that. My tomatoes and basil are both growing quite nicely.
Ghana <3
Thursday, October 28, 2010
What have I accomplished so far?
(For those of you looking for a quick, entertaining read – turn away now, this blog is going to bore you. This means you, Hridi Chowdhury!)
If I had been one of those 3-month “Leave for Change” volunteers, I would have left Ghana last month wondering what I had accomplished. Things move so slowly here that accomplishing anything substantial in three months is really a feat, in my opinion.
Thankfully though, things are finally beginning to pick-up with my work. I am actually busy during the day and I go to sleep at night feeling pleasantly exhausted. I am the type of person that needs a busy schedule to motivate me, so having long, extended periods of time to accomplish something means that I will probably never get that thing done (ie: research proposal).
So - what have I been doing? It seems like everyone in IDS has done an official “work update blog;” but I have been avoiding that for the past 4 months until I could muster up anything substantial to say. Finally, that day has come.
MOST of the students are now back in school – after a 2 and a half month delay. It's nice to start off the year fresh. As a “career and guidance counselor” (that term should be taken lightly) I don't really have a whole lot to do during the day since students are in class, and my school has a major space deficiency, which means I really don't have a quiet, private place where students can come talk to me, if they want. So, instead, I have invested my time in starting MANY school clubs – including a Writer's Club, Debate Club, a community Radio Program, Tuseme (a girls' empowerment club), a choreography club and a school choir. (don't worry – I'm not actually leading the school choir and choreography).
I have been given about $3000 to start the clubs and plan club activities, which is pretty awesome. So, I've got some pretty big plans. For the Writer's Club, our focus is going to be on both creative writing and journalism. The girls will have the chance to go into the community to interview community members about issues that women are facing in the community, region and country. We will also be doing some creative work like writing poems about what it means to be a woman, an African, etc. All of these things will be published in a school newspaper, that will be distributed monthly to the community.
For the community radio program, some of the students will have the chance every Sunday afternoon to host and lead a panel discussion on the local radio station about a variety of topics that they have chosen, many of which go hand-in-hand with my Life Skills class schedule. I'm excited because it gives them the chance to really reflect on some of the issues and to receive feedback from community members as they call-in to the radio program.
The girl's empowerment club, called “Tuseme” (which means “Let us speak out” in Swahili) is a club focused on promoting girls' empowerment and community awareness about gender issues through the use of dramatic arts. The club is also receiving money for the purchase of wireless, internet modems so that the girls will be able to start an email exchange with some African-American girls living in the Bronx, NY. This will not only give the girls valuable learning experience as they learn to use the internet, but will also hopefully be empowering to build friendships and learn about the difficulties and accomplishments of life in another culture. I have also recently received money to purchase bicycles for the school (none of the girls can ride bicycles, but ALL boys can) so I am going to teach the girls to ride. I feel that this is a “direct” way of combatting gendered stereotypes, instead of the traditional, over-done workshop method.
Another note on acting – these girls are AMAZING. We are supposed to be hosting an “important American visitor” (that no one knows anything about) this Friday, and I've been told that all of the clubs have to prepare SOMETHING to show this “visitor.” After stressing about it all week (how am I possibly going to prepare a program for 6 clubs by Friday?), I met the Tuseme girls with the most pessimistic attitude: “I want you to divide into three groups and work as a group to come-up with a play that depicts issues faced by girls or women in Ghana.” I stressed that it only had to be 3-5 minutes, and that I wasn't expecting anything elaborate. WELL, 30 minutes later, I called the groups back to perform what they came up with....and I couldn't believe what I saw. Each group managed to include all of the group members into their play (about 12 students per group), no one was shy, no one needed paper to remember their lines, everyone worked together so well... and each play was quite complex and actually about 20 minutes in length! I was beaming the whole time – these girls, that are so often timid, reserved and afraid to contribute to group discussions – absolutely excelled at acting and creative expression.
It really made me wonder – teachers here often have such low expectations of their students. They give them the most detail-oriented assignments, exam questions, etc... and the students do not do well. But, simply giving them open-ended assignments where they have the ability to be creative and free... the results, as far as I've seen, are beautiful. And so – I've come to approach my job as a “counselor” in a completely new light. In Ghanian culture, “counseling” is essentially an adult lecturing a 'child' while the child quietly sits nodding and saying “thank you Sir/Madam.” Myself, coming from a North American background, tried to establish a more egalitarian relationship with the girls – but in most instances, they don't understand this method of communication, and I feel that they think that my indirect problem-solving and advice-giving is because I am incompetent about how to solve issues they are facing. However, giving the girls the freedom of expression through drama and art allows them that opportunity to really say what they are thinking, without being accused of being “disobedient” or “disrespectful.” I feel like I've been enlightened.
On that note, I should also briefly mention what I've been working on in terms of my research proposal. Firstly, doing research here is ridiculous. I have encountered SO many barriers – mainly due to unreliable internet connections, unreliable electricity, smotheringly hot working conditions, complete lack of available online resources, and unreliable internet cafe hours. Needless to say, things have been difficult in the research department.
Nonetheless, I have managed to come up with an idea.
The Ghanian Education Unit, several years ago, implemented a goal to bring guidance counselors into all public schools in the country by 2005. Since that time, I have found no documentation to demonstrate how successful that goal has been, or the extent to which these counseling programs are actually assisting students. The reason that I am so keen to research whether these programs have been helping students is because Career and Guidance Counseling is actually an American intervention. That said, counselor training courses and textbooks most often emphasize individualist, Western ideals of how a counselor should assist his “client.” Essentially, the aim of counseling sessions is to assist that client in self-reflection, with the ultimate goal being the personal empowerment of that client to find her or her own solutions to the issues he or she is facing.
The problem, however, is that the traditional, hierachial social structures found in Ghana and throughout many African countries means that it is very difficult to form that egalitarian relationship, especially between someone “older” or “more elite” (like most counselors) and someone young/poor or uneducated like most students. In this regard, young people are expected to receive and accept advice and solutions from adults in their society, without much questioning.
My research would be to examine methods used by counselors in Ghanian schools and to find out if both counselors and students perceive these forms of counseling to be effective. From the most positive responses, along with my own work as an experimental counselor, I hope to draw conclusions about effective counseling practices within the cultural context of Ghana.
So that's that.
Anyone who actually read through this long, boring blog entry – please let me know what you think about this research idea! I have yet to receive much feedback on it.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Ghana: Ten Lessons learnt so far
Hello everyone,
Just a quick update to share a few of the unexpected cultural lessons that I've learned here in Ghana so far....
Before traveling ANYWHERE outside of your home, make sure you are armed with toilet paper and Imodium.
Always ask for directions at least three times before going somewhere new. Ghanians love to help and direct, even if they don't exactly know where you're going.
The only way to measure distance here is “far” and “not far.” Traffic, weather and bad road conditions play a major role in the establishment of whether something is “far.”
Even if someone nods frequently and says “Ah, okay” several times during a conversation, that does not mean that they understand you. It is very rare for people to admit that they don't know what you're saying.
If you give out your number, people WILL call you several times a day at all hours of the day and night. Unfortunately, some cellphone companies in Ghana offer free calling between midnight and 4am, so people often take advantage of this.
Do not plan things more than a few days in advance, at best. Situations arise that will disrupt your plans. These can take a variety of forms depending on the plans, but frequently include: power outages, no water, people not showing up (or showing-up very late), lack of understanding or consensus on particular happenings, rain (yes – rain is a legitimate excuse), random public holidays, random government decisions to extend school holidays, late/incomplete construction projects, unexpected (and unpleasant) illnesses, district-wide shortages of essential things like fuel, printer ink, paper, etc.
Being a young, white, female foreigner ensures it is very easy to make acquaintances and potential husbands, but very difficult to make genuine friendships.
On that same note, being a young, white, female foreigner (without a real degree) gives me very little credibility as someone who is capable of looking after herself, let alone assisting others. “This girl can't do her own laundry, pound fufu, carry heavy things on her head, run alongside of cars on the highway selling things, or speak Twi. What CAN she do?” (Fortunately, I can do some of those things now, so I've earned at least some degree of street credibility.)
If you are anything other than Christian or Muslim, it's better to just say that you are either one or the other to avoid direct, confrontational, conversion attempts.
If you witness some sort of petty crime (ex: pick-pocketing) it's often better to just turn your eyes away, since calling it out may result in the criminal (even a youth) being beaten (sometimes to death) by a crowd of people and/or the police.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sorry for the Delay...
Dear Readers,
I just wanted to make a quick note about something. Quite obviously, my blog does not detail everything that I have done during my time in Ghana. Instead of briefly accounting events, I hope to paint pictures of specific memories that are meaningful to me exactly as they happened. As such, taken as an entirety, what you are reading is a memoir of my Ghanian experience with very little real transition between the entries. So, if you would like to have the blanks filled-in, please speak with me directly!
Several weeks ago, instead of going to work, I went to the “saloon.” Now, before you jump to the conclusion that Becky has become an alcoholic due to the immense affordability of Ghanian alcohol, please permit me to explain. In actuality, Ghanians call beauty salons beauty “saloons.” This confused me greatly for the first couple of weeks, as I wondered why so many women were telling me about all of the hours they passed in the saloon. It didn't seem like something that would be spoken about so liberally in a highly-Christian society. Nonetheless, I eventually figured it out and adjusted my only-in-Ghana vocabulary accordingly.
So, as I said – I took the day off work to go to the saloon. (On a side note – only in Africa can you take the day off work to get your hair done and have no one question you). I decided that I wanted to get my hair braided – mainly as a way to keep cool in the hot Ghanian climate. I was told beforehand that I needed to purchase hair extensions to make the braids “nice,” and, surprisingly, I was actually able to find some extensions similar to my hair colour in the little village of Fotobi.
Julie, the lady that took me to church in a previous blog entry, decided to take me to her sister-in-law, a local hairdresser to get my hair done – promising that she would not over-charge me. This sounded like a very good plan to me. And so I went, and sat for 6 hours while 1-3 women worked on my hair. As they worked, they spoke in Twi. I knew they were often talking about me, despite having no idea what they were saying. I have become accustomed to this however, over the past couple of months. And so, 6 hours later, I walked out of the saloon with about 5 times more hair I had when I went in. Overall, I quite liked my new African-style hairdo. However, since washing the braids is impossible, combined with the hot and humid Ghanian climate, the braids lasted only a little over 2 weeks before I had to remove them. One little-mentioned component of getting your hair done like this is that when you remove the braids, you lose about 50% of your original hair. No exaggeration. I was horrified by the thought that I was going bald as handfuls of my hair came out as I combed it with my fingers.
A few Fridays ago, I had the experience of attending a Ghanian-style fundraiser at the school. Essentially, our school is fundraising for a school bus as participating in field trips is currently next to impossible due to the rurality of the school's location and the less-than-ideal transportation systems in-place in Ghana. The fundraiser was set to begin at 10am. No one began arriving until 11am. During the event, some of the students sang and danced, and then came the “Appeal for Funds” segment. During this occasion, various groups appeared in front of the audience and danced until people give them money. So, each class of students danced until their parents came forward to give them a few cedis. Then, everyone thought it would be HILARIOUS to have the Obruni girl (ie: me) go up and dance too. I told them that this was not a good idea, but still I was dragged forward in front of everyone and told to dance.
And so, once again in Ghana, I swallowed the small shreds of my remaining pride and danced until people threw money at me. Over all, we raised about 1800 Cedis – a far cry from the 30 000 that we need for a school bus, but not too bad for such a small school in a small village.
For those of you who have seen my facebook pictures, you will know that I recently acquired a cute little orange kitten. Although you may assume that I did so to counter feelings of loneliness, that is not entirely true. In Ghana, everything is different. And I mean EVERYTHING. The food, language, weather, people, houses, water, electricity, clothing, transportation, sanitation, furniture, houses, shopping, etc. etc. In all of these things, I just wanted one thing to be familiar to me. And fortunately, I found this through Koko, my new kitten. He speaks a language that is familiar to me, and is the only one that doesn't treat me differently for being an outsider, or have presumptions or expectations of how I should act or what I am capable of. I love him for that. (Sorry for the cheesiness, but it's true.)
In the past 10 days, I have been supervising a Girls' Empowerment Camp in Accra. Essentially, 257 girls from the most impoverished areas of Ghana were selected to attend the camp. Ten of the students from our school were selected to participate, and I was chosen to accompany them. Those ten days were possibly the longest 10 days of my life. After attending summer camp on various occasions as a child, I had certain expectations of what this camp would be like. But, as I should have known, things in Ghana never happen as I expect they will. First of all, the students had to wake-up every morning at 5am to go jogging for one hour. For those of you who have never tried it, motivating 10 teenagers to wake-up ten days in a row for jogging at 5am is almost an impossibility. It felt like bootcamp. After jogging, everyone was expected to bathe together in a communal shower room. Ghanians have no problem with this, or nakedness in general, but being the only Obruni girl made me a major object of attention during these procedures. And so, I had a bucket bath while 50 young girls and their accompanying Ghanian chaperons stared relentlessly at me. Fortunately at this point though, upholding my dignity is no longer one of my major priorities.
Secondly, everyday at the camp was spent indoors being lectured at for about 6 hours. Actually, let me correct that – probably about 2-3 of those hours were spent WAITING for the people who were supposed to be lecturing us. It was very frustrating how poorly organized everything was, and how poor leadership and zero communication are just accepted norms here. Of course, the only people that appeared frustrated by this fact were myself and the two other Canadian volunteers who were working at the camp. In all, the campers had the opportunity to “play games” only twice and completed only one craft during the ten days. There were no talent nights, roleplaying, funny skits or attempted humour of any kind. At the end of the 10 days, my students declared they were more than ready to go home. It was sad that the camp COULD have been so wonderful, had the leadership been different.
Well that is about it for now. As I said, many other things have been happening, but I have decided to only share the things that really stand out in my memory. My apologies for not updating my blog sooner – I have had several half-written entries stored on my desktop, but there is usually about a 70% chance that my internet is not working when I am ready to post an entry.
Hope everything is going well! It feels strange that for the first time in 16 years, I am not preparing to go back to school right now.
I just wanted to make a quick note about something. Quite obviously, my blog does not detail everything that I have done during my time in Ghana. Instead of briefly accounting events, I hope to paint pictures of specific memories that are meaningful to me exactly as they happened. As such, taken as an entirety, what you are reading is a memoir of my Ghanian experience with very little real transition between the entries. So, if you would like to have the blanks filled-in, please speak with me directly!
Several weeks ago, instead of going to work, I went to the “saloon.” Now, before you jump to the conclusion that Becky has become an alcoholic due to the immense affordability of Ghanian alcohol, please permit me to explain. In actuality, Ghanians call beauty salons beauty “saloons.” This confused me greatly for the first couple of weeks, as I wondered why so many women were telling me about all of the hours they passed in the saloon. It didn't seem like something that would be spoken about so liberally in a highly-Christian society. Nonetheless, I eventually figured it out and adjusted my only-in-Ghana vocabulary accordingly.
So, as I said – I took the day off work to go to the saloon. (On a side note – only in Africa can you take the day off work to get your hair done and have no one question you). I decided that I wanted to get my hair braided – mainly as a way to keep cool in the hot Ghanian climate. I was told beforehand that I needed to purchase hair extensions to make the braids “nice,” and, surprisingly, I was actually able to find some extensions similar to my hair colour in the little village of Fotobi.
Julie, the lady that took me to church in a previous blog entry, decided to take me to her sister-in-law, a local hairdresser to get my hair done – promising that she would not over-charge me. This sounded like a very good plan to me. And so I went, and sat for 6 hours while 1-3 women worked on my hair. As they worked, they spoke in Twi. I knew they were often talking about me, despite having no idea what they were saying. I have become accustomed to this however, over the past couple of months. And so, 6 hours later, I walked out of the saloon with about 5 times more hair I had when I went in. Overall, I quite liked my new African-style hairdo. However, since washing the braids is impossible, combined with the hot and humid Ghanian climate, the braids lasted only a little over 2 weeks before I had to remove them. One little-mentioned component of getting your hair done like this is that when you remove the braids, you lose about 50% of your original hair. No exaggeration. I was horrified by the thought that I was going bald as handfuls of my hair came out as I combed it with my fingers.
A few Fridays ago, I had the experience of attending a Ghanian-style fundraiser at the school. Essentially, our school is fundraising for a school bus as participating in field trips is currently next to impossible due to the rurality of the school's location and the less-than-ideal transportation systems in-place in Ghana. The fundraiser was set to begin at 10am. No one began arriving until 11am. During the event, some of the students sang and danced, and then came the “Appeal for Funds” segment. During this occasion, various groups appeared in front of the audience and danced until people give them money. So, each class of students danced until their parents came forward to give them a few cedis. Then, everyone thought it would be HILARIOUS to have the Obruni girl (ie: me) go up and dance too. I told them that this was not a good idea, but still I was dragged forward in front of everyone and told to dance.
And so, once again in Ghana, I swallowed the small shreds of my remaining pride and danced until people threw money at me. Over all, we raised about 1800 Cedis – a far cry from the 30 000 that we need for a school bus, but not too bad for such a small school in a small village.
For those of you who have seen my facebook pictures, you will know that I recently acquired a cute little orange kitten. Although you may assume that I did so to counter feelings of loneliness, that is not entirely true. In Ghana, everything is different. And I mean EVERYTHING. The food, language, weather, people, houses, water, electricity, clothing, transportation, sanitation, furniture, houses, shopping, etc. etc. In all of these things, I just wanted one thing to be familiar to me. And fortunately, I found this through Koko, my new kitten. He speaks a language that is familiar to me, and is the only one that doesn't treat me differently for being an outsider, or have presumptions or expectations of how I should act or what I am capable of. I love him for that. (Sorry for the cheesiness, but it's true.)
In the past 10 days, I have been supervising a Girls' Empowerment Camp in Accra. Essentially, 257 girls from the most impoverished areas of Ghana were selected to attend the camp. Ten of the students from our school were selected to participate, and I was chosen to accompany them. Those ten days were possibly the longest 10 days of my life. After attending summer camp on various occasions as a child, I had certain expectations of what this camp would be like. But, as I should have known, things in Ghana never happen as I expect they will. First of all, the students had to wake-up every morning at 5am to go jogging for one hour. For those of you who have never tried it, motivating 10 teenagers to wake-up ten days in a row for jogging at 5am is almost an impossibility. It felt like bootcamp. After jogging, everyone was expected to bathe together in a communal shower room. Ghanians have no problem with this, or nakedness in general, but being the only Obruni girl made me a major object of attention during these procedures. And so, I had a bucket bath while 50 young girls and their accompanying Ghanian chaperons stared relentlessly at me. Fortunately at this point though, upholding my dignity is no longer one of my major priorities.
Secondly, everyday at the camp was spent indoors being lectured at for about 6 hours. Actually, let me correct that – probably about 2-3 of those hours were spent WAITING for the people who were supposed to be lecturing us. It was very frustrating how poorly organized everything was, and how poor leadership and zero communication are just accepted norms here. Of course, the only people that appeared frustrated by this fact were myself and the two other Canadian volunteers who were working at the camp. In all, the campers had the opportunity to “play games” only twice and completed only one craft during the ten days. There were no talent nights, roleplaying, funny skits or attempted humour of any kind. At the end of the 10 days, my students declared they were more than ready to go home. It was sad that the camp COULD have been so wonderful, had the leadership been different.
Well that is about it for now. As I said, many other things have been happening, but I have decided to only share the things that really stand out in my memory. My apologies for not updating my blog sooner – I have had several half-written entries stored on my desktop, but there is usually about a 70% chance that my internet is not working when I am ready to post an entry.
Hope everything is going well! It feels strange that for the first time in 16 years, I am not preparing to go back to school right now.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Address and Phone Number
EDIT: I made a mistake! I gave you the incorrect number before, but I have corrected it now. So, please note the correction.
I just wanted to do a very brief update to satisfy all of you who have been demanding a mailing address. The addresses in Ghana are a bit odd... as in, no one really has one. But hopefully this should work:
Nsaba Diaspora Girls' Senior Secondary School
PO Box 356 Nsawam,
Eastern Region, Ghana
Also, if anyone is feeling rich, they can give me a call at : 233-548-991-024 (Just like that, you don't need a 1 in front )
I am almost out of my supply of comforting Canadian food (ie: starbursts, skittles, chocolate, tea) so any care packages you may wish to send would be GREATLY appreciated!!
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