May 29, 2009 - Working on working

Today, being Friday, there was at a meeting at the office with most of the Mofa staff and we worked out that next week I’ll accompany the AEA’s to meet with their farmer groups. It’s been a couple weeks but with some issues going on at work like the director loosing his mother, the former director passing away after being in the hospital for a while, as well as some trouble with securing tractor owners and operators to plow a certain amount of acres for a rice expansion project funded by Mofa at the national level. With this in mind, I haven’t quite found my niche within Mofa as some things are out of my control, and I’ve been trying to put myself out there as ready and willing to contribute but with little success so far. Maybe I’m used to the work setting in Canada where you start a new job and things are clear as to what your responsibilities are and other’s expectations become clear pretty quickly usually.

However, at the director set the tone and told the AEA’s that I’ll be working with them next week and then I set up the dates where I’ll go with them to meet farmer groups to introduce myself, ask some questions, and give the heads up about the AAB program that we’re piloting in this district, which means future meetings with farmer groups to discuss the AAB curriculum facilitated by AEA’s. Once the momentum picks up I’ll explain Agriculture as a business (AAB) in more detail.

I’m not entirely sure of my audience, i.e. who is following along and reading, therefore I’m trying to cater to a diverse audience and cover many different aspects of my experiences in Ghana. I also just realized that a blog setting may have prevented people from commenting – apparently you had to have a blog account to do so – but I changed it so anyone can comment. Hopefully I’ll receive some input from readers so I can answer some questions and describe specific things in more depth.

I was given the opportunity to attend an important meeting in Bolga that concerned the entire Upper East Region though. It was the launching (or sensitizing as they say here) of the Northern Rural Growth Program (NRGP) which is a 100 million (US$) project designed to help develop the three northern regions of Ghana mainly funded by the African Development Bank and the International Fund for Agriculture Development? (I think that’s what IFAD stands for). Anyways, the program looks like it’s taking a good approach and the potential is exciting. I’m not naïve and remain critical and skeptical but I don’t know enough to judge and I’m remaining positive and thinking about how EWB can fit into this project which overlaps a bit with AAB. In fact, Roy is the program coordinator who used to be the regional director of Mofa and helped develop AAB in collaboration with EWB. Meghan (my coach/colleague) and I chatted with Roy after the meeting about how the funds will be made available to the districts through what they’re calling the Commodity Business Plan. Stakeholders from the district like farmer groups, land owners, Mofa, banks, town planners, and so on will come up with a business plan based on the commodity they are planning on producing, which will be based on the demand and market. This approach seems pretty interesting: looking at markets and demand before actually producing a commodity.

For instance, one can look at how Guinness here in Ghana is only obtaining about 10% of its sorghum needs locally while importing the rest. A district could then come up with a business plan and apply for funding so it can improve infrastructure like roads and irrigation, in order to produce sorghum for this particular market. Although the stats here are factual, I came up with a simplified example trying to illustrate the approach. Of course many other factors and issues around the production of sorghum exist and I’m not entirely sure how the business plan process will be carried out. I was actually talking to the accountant here at Mofa about this issue and we both had a number of questions about how the funding will be disbursed. For example, how can they ensure that farmers’ voices will be heard as much as bank managers and investors or wealthy land owners? Who will decide which representatives will be involved in the process of creating the business plan? Will some people from certain districts have the upper hand by gaining access to certain market information that is not widely available? The district I’m in, Kassena-Nankana West, was formed only about a year ago and I can say with some level of certainty that it’s an underdog district lacking basic funds, so these questions literally hit close to home – seeing as how I live across from the Mofa office.

Struggling with white privilege or lack of independence?

I never seem to know whether people are being very kind and welcoming and sometimes going out of there way to assist me, or I’m being privileged because I’m white/a westerner. I think both cases apply to different situations but I can’t quite decipher the two. But if someone from another country was my neighbor and was clueless due to the new environment, then I’d go out of my way to help them on their feet. On the other hand, I can tell that in some situations I get the same treatment as a prominent older male Ghanaian. Maybe I’m worrying too much about “white privilege”, I’ve only been here in Paga for about two weeks and I’ll eventually figure out the difference between feeling dependent and being privileged. But I’m still uncomfortable with people always do things for me and would like to be more independent. However, when I do ‘go-it-alone’ I usually mess up and people even say ‘why didn’t you ask one of us?’ I guess I’m so used to being capable of taking care of myself it’s a difficult shift to having to depend on people for many things, even food and water.

For example, the other day I was walking about and decided to look at how much a used bike costs. I ended picking one up but it wasn’t very good, and a couple days later a guy at my compound who I’ve started to talk with said I was cheated (ripped off). He came with me to try to get my money back, and after he argued for about a half hour, we left because the guy didn’t have the money so I’m pretty much stuck with the bike. On the walk back he said that I should have asked him to help me find a bike, or asked one of them at the compound. I know he helped me out because he’s a good guy who doesn’t want to see people get cheated regardless if you’re foreign or local, and I’m lucky the guy who sold me the bike was an older man (50’s) because he said he probably would have knocked him out otherwise.

This instance got me thinking, and I thought that I had better learn something from this affair. Since no one can change the past, I believe that we can change the future by focusing on the present. With that in mind, the lesson I gathered from this instance is: ask for help when you need it! Something I struggle with regardless of what continent I’m on. I also think that I’ll do what I can to fix up the bike, which means going back to the place where I bought it, probably getting laughed at (which is becoming the norm) and facing the fact that I was naive and paid too much for a used bike. Oh well, I’ll just have to add it to the uncomfortable list and suck it up, I’ve got it easy.

After the bike incident I felt pretty down and out, and fell into a negative mood feeling stupid for having been ripped off and causing some drama. Luckily today is a holiday here, African Union Day, so there were some people around the compound to help me out of my rut (probably unknowingly). Sophia - my senior sister, she says, since she’s 3 years older than me – had the day off from her job at the bank and she thankfully showed and helped me hand wash my clothes. Not easy; for me at least. She washes clothes better than a machine. My unfit hands and arms were no match to Sophia’s, but at least I learned and tried so that next time I hopefully won’t need her help (for one thing at least).

Sunday clothes washing, with no help this time! I'm learning small small.

“White man! Are you going to see the crocodiles?”

I’ve heard this phrase a number of times walking around in Paga, and on Sunday I became that tourist that many people thought me to be. Another volunteer came and visited with her host brother from Zuarungu, near Bolga, the place I was originally supposed to be living. We hit the 3 tourist destinations and contributed to the local economy by visiting the old slave camp, the crocodile pond, and some older style buildings with artifacts from a time long since past.

I’m hoping this post gives the pics I previously posted a little context.

The slave camp wasn’t what I expected, but then again basically everything has been different from what I expected since I landed in Accra. The site was very rocky which I found odd in this flat landscape, and dates back to the 18^th century but peaked in the 19th when slave raiders would send their captives from areas where Mali and Burkina-Faso are now found on the way to Cape Coast to be shipped off to the Americas. The guy, who worked there, our guide, said the slave camp was like a hub where African Slave owners would sell their slaves who would then be forced to walk to the coast. Although slavery was found in Africa and elsewhere before Columbus and colonialism, it never reached such severe levels and millions were rounded up to meet the high numbers demanded by Europeans to be sent to the plantations and mines of the Americas.

After leaving the slave camp the three of us traveled on a single moto to the Chief’s Pool Crocodile Pond! I don’t know too much about this place except that it’s an eco-tourism spot and some of the crocodiles are very old. Now, some of you might not agree with this next part, and to me it didn’t seem too ethical, but who am I to make that judgment. We bought a “sacrificial chicken” which they lure the crocodiles out with and then feed to them. I don’t know if I’m just trying to justify this or not, but the chickens are going to die either by knife and then end up cooked in my bowl, or down a croc’s throat, basically they have no chance. Anyways, an older guy working there was really friendly and informative and could tell you the name of each croc and the crocs actually listened to him, and when he assertively snapped at them, they stopped moving. We had a lot of fun and snapped some good pics of the crocs, us on the crocs, and yes the feeding (which will be showed upon request only):

Finally, across the road we went to see some small buildings that are characteristic of an old village with the friendly guide (sorry I’m horrible with local names, but I’ll be visiting this guy again so stay tuned). He showed us the old mud and dung huts with about a foot and half sunken in roof were people slept when it was too hot and also hid from slave raiders. You could access the roof with a wooden carved latter. We went inside and he showed us some pretty old looking artifacts, good ‘ol archeology! Then ended the short tour by showing us some good looking locally made tourist-type gifts like wallets, jewelry, cloth, all hand made which will end up in some of your hands when I return. Here's fun one:

Picture Party!!!

(some old artifacts that been dug up in the area)

(Aline, Meshach, and myself at Chief's Pool crocodile pond)

(waiting for lunch)

(I think the guide said that this one is about 80-90 years old)

(The big one is coming to eat...)

(When slaves would try to escape or revolt they were forced to sit on the rock and their hands and legs were chained around the bottom, then they were beaten and left in the sun to die)

(Grave sites where the slave masters would bury about 4 people at a time, a few metres from the Punishment Rock)

(The lookout rock)

(This is the view from the lookout rock at the Pikworo Slave Camp. It's where the slave masters used to stay perched to spot anyone from attempting to escape)

(My Ghanaian staple foods: Mangos, malk n milk cookies, groundnuts, and purewater)

(This is behind my compund where I relax from time to time under the tree and converse with an old man named Alagi Baba Mamudu - probably spelled his name wrong)

(Here's the compound I'm staying at, what I'm calling "Home" for the summer)

(The weight bench at my compound. I lifted some weights with some of the guys at the compound the other night, they got a kick out of me lifting for they are pretty built)

Ok so for those of you who haven't struggled with internet overseas, I hope you enjoy these pics as they took a long time to upload - over 5mins per pic, I've been on the net for almost 3 hours. I'll keep them coming though, and once I get to know people a little better and get settled in more I'll get some people pics.

Chief's Palace

My friend Dolbert also brought me to the Chief's Palace upon my request. He said we might not be able to see the chief right away but we can ask the elders, I asked if it's ok to be doing this and he said it wasn’t a problem. I later read in a travel book on Ghana that I have here that the Chief's Palace is a tourist attraction, and although there is a sign indicating the place, it sure doesn't seem like one. But from what I've heard chiefs like to meet foreigners, at least in some places in Ghana. Anyways, when I think of chiefs and chief palaces I think of traditional attire, maybe some kind of different customs or ways of greeting, maybe mud huts with thatched roofs (that are common in villages here), drumming and dancing also come to mind. Basically some of the "exotic" things found in movies, television, cartoons, books, pictures, and so on. I won't get into an anthropological discussion around the problems with what this implies but just close your for a couple seconds and imagine what a chief in Northern Ghana looks like. What comes to mind?

So I talked with one of the chief's elders (I presume) and I told him why I was in Paga, who I'm working for, and this and that. I didn't know at the time but the chief was standing right beside him. He translated that I should come back with the District Director (basically my boss) because the chief was just on his way to a meeting. The chief was wearing a cap that is common around here with no rim, I see a lot of Muslims wearing them, and he was wearing a sort of poncho-like garment that's also not uncommon called a smock. He also had on some regular pants and shoes. Now what caught my attention were the huge gold watch and the nice cane he had, along with the nice looking Mercedes that pulled up with a leather interior. When I think of it, it's really not that unusual. Important people like political leaders tend to have money, nice watches, and are driven around in expensive cars all over the world, and the Chief of Paga is of no exception.

Health Conscious

I friend that I met the other day in the market named Dolbert, showed me around town. I don't remember how we got to the topic but I asked him to show me where the clinic was as well as the police station. I probably should have looked into finding these places as soon as I arrived but since my health and safety have been fine and it felt like a thousand other things were going on I didn't think of it. A couple days later as I write this, I'm thankful I looked into finding the clinic because I went there yesterday feeling pretty sick. I think it might be something I ate, but I got some medicine so I should be feeling better soon. One thing I realized that I take for granted is my health and availability of medical care. The clinic was good here, I'm not comparing it to Canada, but what I realized is that because I have money, i.e. a privileged westerner, I can buy any medication or medical care I need, in fact, worst comes to worst I have health insurance through EWB that will fly me to the nearest ‘western’ hospital if needed.

Now that's privilege. And for what reason do I have this privilege? What did I do to deserve such luxury? Well, I don’t actually. I won the lottery of birth and was born in Canada into a white middle class family, had I been born here in Paga I may or may not have enough money to afford medical care or might/might not have to sell something or go without something in order to pay for it. I'm just guessing because I don't know the realities people face here, but I know there's plenty of people living hand to mouth, day by day, week by week, month by month. I guess the reason I brought this up is because while I was at the clinic I had a malaria test done, which turned out negative but I was showing all the symptoms. I'm not worried at all because again I'm privileged: I have money. I'm thankful, but not proud of this privilege. About a meter away from me lie a box of pills that will kill the parasite and cure malaria. It's so common for EWB volunteers to get malaria that it's kind of a joke to get it, mind you an uncomfortable, eye-opening, and regrettable one. Maybe joke is not the best choice of words, but it's talked about as not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things because at the end of the day we can afford the cure.

Now what blows my mind and upsets, discourages, depresses, yet ultimately motivates me into some sort of action are the stats I've read stating that 3,000 people die every day from Malaria (I don't know the accuracy of the stat, and I don't have access to high or med speed internet, but I'm sure anyone can look it up on google). It's just astonishing how so many people, whatever the number, die everyday from a curable and moderately preventable disease. I'm sure bed nets like the one I'm under right now significantly reduce the rates, and they're not very expensive. I remember a while back seeing a bed net campaign from (of all people) Rick Mercer, I think it was promoted like 10$ can save a life, or something along those lines. I didn’t think much of it at the time and I can't remember if I donated or not, but hearing how many people die from malaria, being in a high risk area, and hearing how horrible it feels, brings a little more perspective and reality.

Kind of changing gears, I'm thinking about the approach of encouraging Canadians to buy an inexpensive tangible item like a bed net or a goat or seeds to assist someone who could use a hand. I think it's a great idea and I encourage everyone to chip in if they can. I also think it appeals to most people back home because we can relate to direct cause and effect things like buying something and an immediate result coming from that purchase, no questions asked, simple. Maybe not the case with bed nets but I have read and heard first person accounts of this type of approach being too simple. Like building a well/borehole and assuming people will automatically benefit, while not taking into account a plethora of other variables and factors that could inhibit the potential benefits.

Now contrast this previous example to donating the same amount to a 5 year plan that focuses on attitude and behaviour changes among the field staff at MoFA so they can sustainably improve their assistance/service without direct outside intervention and rural farmers can gain access to opportunities and overcome some of the challenges they face on a regular basis. And this project may or may not succeed, the results will take some time and are not as clean-cut. Now we can up-scale the small individual donation to a large donation from the Gates Foundation, Oxfam, or CIDA (Canadian International Development Agency). This is a fragment of the complexity of development, in my opinion: trying to obtain funding from large donors to fund projects where the people involved are in control over the use and implementation of the project and ultimately are in control over their own development, but without easily measurable, concrete results that look great on an excel spreadsheet or financial report.

Making Friends

Day by day or what you would say here “in short time” I’m feeling better about being here in Paga. I’ll just go through some randomly selected examples of my experiences here so far. Along the lines of my last post, I’ve starting talking more with the people living in the compound and made some friends. There’s mainly one lady Sophia, who’s been a world of help for me and a really friendly person to talk to. She’s kinda like my mom here in Paga so far. We have a couple good conversations about the lifestyle here in Paga and she’s taught me some valuable things like an easy way to wash my hands, how to greet people properly, and also helped me out by giving me water and a couple cooked meals so far. I was very hesitant to ask her or any of the other women for water or food because it didn’t feel right asking to be basically waited on. I talked to her about this the other day and told her how I lived alone back in Canada and did all my own cooking and cleaning so it didn’t feel right to have someone do it for me. I gave in a couple days ago and asked a small boy if I could pay him to wash my clothes because for one I’m clueless as to where the water source is, and second I don’t have large pales/basins to do it. Also, when Sophia gave me a warm meal I offered money and she refused and said it was taboo. She said that we are all one family in this compound and everyone helps each other and shares water, food, or whatever. But I persisted and tried to find another way to contribute and found out that I could buy some uncooked food in the market or other supplies to help chip in. So tomorrow I’m going to ask her what I can pick up from the market when I head out. On the whole, the more I step out there, swallow my pride and make the effort to talk and ask questions, regardless of the embarrassment and uneasy feeling, the better I feel. Ghanaians aren’t lying when they frequently say “you are welcome”, I just have to believe it.

(P.S. I’m going to take my camera out soon, maybe this week, if not then definitely next week. I just want people to be somewhat familiar with me so they don’t think I’m just another tourist who made the trek up to Paga to see the tourist attractions: the crocodile pond and the old slave camp. I want to start off on the right foot. Patience is a virtue, trust me. And I just tried to upload some pics with no luck, I'll try again next week in Navrongo )

What you give is what you get…

After getting some tasty breakfast (the usual) and talking with some of the guys hanging around there about where they play football (soccer) in town, I headed home and sat in my room for a bit. From time to time I feel pretty lonely having my own place and not really knowing anyone too well, and I sense myself slipping into one of those negative moods. This was staring to happen so I took a deep breath and ventured out in the town. After picking up a couple things I noticed a couple people I met before hanging out under a large tree behind my compound so I grabbed my book that I’m reading The Alchemist and my little notebook and joined them. I’m finding that when I’m feeling culture shock and isolated and falling into a “I just don’t care” mood, the hardest step is that first one, where I have to pull yourself together and make a decision that inevitably leads to uncertainty. Yet, it’s always the most rewarding because you live and learn. Even negative or uncomfortable experiences are learning blocks, but this time it was all good.

Under the tree there was an old man lying on a mat with a pillow just relaxing-half-napping in the shade, and a 25-35yr old woman sitting and reading as well as a couple kids. Because the main water pipe that's being installed had the valve open and clean water available, there was a small of army of kids mostly in there underwear carrying various sized pots and bins of water on their heads and then running back to the water source. Even little toddlers with small cooking pots wanted in on the action and were walking to and from. Since the tree we were under was right along a path and near a couple barrels for water storage, I had a front row seat.

After I sat down, an older woman who I met before came out to join - she could probably hear me bec her place wasn’t too far away - and through translation she asked me why I didn’t come and greet her. This is one of the cultural differences I’m having trouble remembering to do, greet people all the time. Sometimes I just forget I don’t think of it but it’s pretty much a rule of thumb to great everyone you know especially if they’re nearby. But she is very friendly and like everyone else I’ve encountered she gets a kick out of my attempts to speak the local language. She helped me learn a lot more today and taught me a number of expressions and words that I quickly scribbled in my notepad. After the older woman left I continued to learn from the younger woman who was reading. She speaks English quite well and really helped me learn some more Cassin (I still have no idea how to spell it but I’ll make it goal to get the spelling down). Looking back at it all, it seems incredible that so much can happen and how much you can learn and how much better you can feel when you make that decision and take a chance.

Day 3 - Meet the AEA’s

Friday was my first semi-official day at work because the director in this district MoFA holds a meeting with all the AEA’s and staff each Friday. He basically just introduced me and I talked for about 2mins introducing myself and mentioning why I’m here, to help get the program Agriculture as a Business up and running. It went ok, I didn’t know what to expect because I’m still trying to figure things out here. I even have to work at fully understanding people because of the different accent and expressions. I think next week when I run a workshop explaining in depth who I am, why I’m here, and the what the program is all about I’ll hopefully break the ice. But I did get to talk to a couple people after the meeting and I think I’ll be able to go with one of them to their meeting with a farmer group next week. While a couple of us were talking outside the office, a funeral procession was making it’s way down the street. Now I’m not sure if any of you have heard about funerals in Northern Ghana but you can probably guess that they’re nothing like funerals in Canada. This is what I saw. There was a group of about 25-30 guys from old to young dressed in different outfits, what we would probably call costumes, and at the front there were drummers (the medium size hand drums) and at the front there was a man leading the way. They were sort of dancing or marching to the rhythm which stopped frequently at the call of the leader, and most of them had fake weapons like bow and arrows, or spears. It almost seemed like the leader was leading them into battle or something, because they would mimic the use of the pseudo weapons at certain times. Anyway, they came right up to us and performed for us, and the man to my right gave a little money, which apparently is the custom.

I’m hesitant to label this funeral procession as “traditional” because it evokes meaning that can be misleading. For instance, traditional is often used in comparison to “modern”, and traditional usually refers to something of the past. Now I don’t know much about the cultures up here in Paga, but I do know that the majority of the people dressed up in the funeral were more than likely carrying cell phones, and some of them were going to hop on their motos after it finished and might head home to watch the football game on tv. The funeral performance may have some links to the past but I’m guessing remains tied to modern life in Paga. Nevertheless, it was an interesting activity to witness, and next weekend there’s a funeral in the neighbouring town of Navrongo which I was invited to and will taking many pics and videos of, so keep an eye out for a future post of the funeral/party!

Still Day 2 - Thursday Night: The rains have come

The night before I could barely fall asleep due to the intense heat and humidity, but now I had a fan! Aha! Turns out I didn’t really need it that night because it rained and cooled off quite a bit (very-rough guess: 37 to 27???) And when it rains it pours! It’s dry up here in the Upper East Region, and there’s only about 3months of steady rainfall that people’s lives really depend upon. I was glad to see the rain on my second night in Paga. You can imagine the sound of a thunderstorm on a metal roof, therefore I ventured out on the patio-type enclosure outside of my door catch the action of my first storm in Ghana. One of the women residents was filling up buckets of water at one of the corners where the rain drained off and transported then into a large barrel where the water is kept for later uses like bathing, and washing dishes. I though to myself, that’s a great idea! It’s not like you’re drinking the rain water, it’s being pretty resourceful and efficient I thought. I proceeded to place my bucket at the end of the roof where it would have filled up very slowly, but the woman quickly grabbed one of the buckets she was filling and poured the water into mine. I felt kind of stupid and useless because it was another thing I couldn’t get right, but I thanked her and was grateful that I had enough water to clean myself with tomorrow morning. One step at a time…

Day 2 - Thursday

At this point I’m still clueless and have to ask everyone about just about everything, where to find this and that like water to bathe and cooked food, this can take a while when people tell you to go one place then they tell you another and so on until I found what I was looking for. Luckily, some people have been helping me out filling my bucket up with water from the borehole that I still don’t quite know the location of. Again, I felt awkward, uncomfortable, unsure…..culture shock. The past 24 hours felt as long as days So I talked with the director for a bit before he left early to visit a relative in the hospital, and then asked around to find out how I can get to Bolga. Luckily, there was group of administrative teachers (I later learned) who were heading out to Navrongo which is where I needed to go to get to Bolga, free ride with nice people, awesome.

I hope by this point in my blogging, I’m not boring you with too many details and I’m even leaving some out, I swear, but I’m trying to keep everyone informed enough so they can sort of get a feel for what’s been going on with me in Ghana. Anyways, enough insecure reassurance fishing, here’s what happened next.

So I arrived at the taxi station in Bolga, which is also a market - I’ll do my best to describe it. Compared to Paga, it’s pretty busy, with taxis, tro-tros, buses, motos, cows, goats, chickens, women, men and children, stationary venders, mobile venders, women and girls walking around with bowls, platters, and many other things balanced on their heads, drivers yelling the name of town their vehicle is heading, and one white guy all going in multiple directions with multiple things to do. I guess in one word I’d say hectic. I roamed around looking for things I needed and wrote down on my ‘shopping list’ and actually managed to find just about everything after doing a couple laps and zig-zaging. After meeting with Aline for a mineral (pop) which took quite a while even though Bolga isn’t very large. I got a ride from her host brother to the taxi station where I waited for a bit until the taxi had enough people then off to Paga. I arrived just after dark so the women in the market had finished cooking, and since the road isn’t too lighted I settled for bread and groundnuts (peanuts) for dinner at a stand near my place. The lack of a good meal didn’t really matter though because now I had a light bulb that wasn’t going to drive me insane and a good fan to put me asleep, so I was happy.

First day in Paga - Wednesday

So up to this point I’ve been under the care and guidance of Canadians who’ve been in the country for much longer than myself, in other words they’ve been taking care of me because I’m clueless of how things work here in Ghana. Well all that changed in an instant when Ryan took off back to Bongo on his moto and I was in Paga at the MoFA office. It was an interesting day, a long interesting day, and to completely honest it was probably the toughest day and the most unpleasant so far. So the landlord to my place was in Bolga when I arrived so I had to wait, first at the MoFA office with the Director (my new boss, real nice guy), then we had to take off, I was sent to the border where there’s an office that deals with agriculture import inspections and such. So I waited there for a while in the shade with some of the people who worked at the border. By now I’m feeling some anxiety, feeling out of place, awkward, and so on. Finally after a while Solomon, who is a director there, showed up and drove me back to my new place.

As I’m typing this now I’m laughing but I wasn’t on this day I’m describing. So, we get to the place which is a compound (a rectangle set up of rooms with a courtyard in the middle) but the room wasn’t ready, that is, they had to install the (only) light. So seeing as how there was nothing in the room except concrete walls/floor, a window, light switch, and outlet, Solomon was kind enough to take me to the neighbouring town of Navrongo (15min) to pick up some things like a couple buckets, foam mattress, chair, and a mat. So here I am expecting to be welcomed by a host family and get settled in, have a local meal, and relax. Nope, that would be too easy hahaha. So try to picture it, I just get to the place I’ll be staying at for the next 3 months and there’s nothing there but an empty room without a light, I just met the people I’m with, there’s very few white people who come up here and I’m new so just about everyone stares at me (not exaggerating), can’t speak the local language that everyone is speaking but the majorty know English, and I don’t know where anything is located like food or the main water source. In EWB there’s a lot of talk about “getting outside your comfort zone”, well I was flying past the line of that zone at record speed.

But I’m lucky, Solomon really helped me out, he took time out of his day to drive me to Navrongo and back, then brought me to his home for a hearty meal of rice balls and stew. Here’s another thing that threw me off: I felt like I was back in Canada in his house. It was like a standard middle class home in Canada, tile floor, nice couches, entertainment center, average sized TV with the dvd “Madagascar” playing, nice dishes, and not too hot. So he took me in, fed me, helped me buy things (which sounds simple but is pretty tough freshly on your own in a foreign country), and drove me from place to place. This one of my expectations that has not fallen through so far, the warm welcoming by Ghanaians, everyone I meet here almost always says “you are welcome”. But when I was comfortable and full I headed back to my place, which was finally finished, Solomon dropped me off after asking if everything was ok and I had everything I needed and hahaha I was alone in my new room with a neon-blue light shining on touquiose greenish walls. So I went out to find water, and I bought a big bag of clean water satchets but not without breaking a couple bags by not carrying it properly, and feeling ridiculous as people stared. I laugh now, but at the time I thought to myself ‘just get through the night and tomorrow I can get a new light and a fan’ and everything will be ok. And of course everything was ok.

Into the Upper East

I haven’t posted in about a week because things have been pretty hectic, traveling from here to there and trying to get settled into to my new home in Paga right near the border to Burkina Faso, about a 5min drive to the border.

I guess I’ll try to keep with the chronological posts, and continue from where I left off in Tamale. From the guest house there I went with Ryan (a long term volunteer) and Aline (another JF) to Bolga via the tro-tro. Now for those of you who are unfamiliar with the tro it’s one of the more interesting ways to travel in Ghana. I think I sort of explained what a tro-tro is before, but it’s basically a van crammed with people. There’s really not too much space left for anything, especially what we might think of as comfort, but the trip to Bolga really wasn’t too uncomfortable with 2 people to chat with about development, the environment, charity, movies, and plenty of other things. By this time I’ve started to get used to sweating constantly, so a van full of people isn’t so bad, and it’s the cheapest way to travel.

We stopped by the MoFA regional office when we arrived in Bolga and dropped our stuff off, Aline stayed there and I grabbed enough for a couple days and headed to Bongo with Ryan where he’s been living for 6 months - my place wasn’t ready in Paga quite yet. I stayed with him and his host family who were very kind and welcoming; I think I even made a pretty good impression with his host grandfather (the owner/head of the house) by greeting him in Frafra which gave him a few laughs and smiles. I love the food here in Ghana, and in Bongo it was delicious as usual! We had millet TZ (doughy goodness) with bito (leafy green with bean soup for dipping) and also some whatche I probably didn’t spell that right but its beans and rice. A don’t forget the fried egg, Ryan’s on a six month streak of eating one everyday, impressive.

Anyways I was feeling great in Bongo, bucket bathing feels great in this heat, and it’s not too hard to figure out, here’s the method I learned: splash water on yourself, soap and lather, pour bucket of water all over yourself to rinse. Simple yet refreshing. I also got some work done at the Bolga office the next day while Ryan and Meghan (my JF coach) were in a meeting all day.

But then came the “fun” part of my travels….riding on the back of Ryan’s motorcycle (from here on referred to as moto) with my big heavy backpack strapped to my back. Of course I had no idea how far Paga was from Bolga so I thought “ahh its not too far, lets save some money and time and go for it”. Not the best idea. Wearing a 40lb+ backpack on a moto for about 45mins is not a good idea, please don’t try this at home, and the roads can be a little bumpy with occasional potholes that may or may not be large, and don’t forget the roaming cattle, goats and fowl. Don’t worry mom Ryan is a good driver, and it may sound a little odd but it was probably safer than getting in a tro-tro or taxi judging by how and what they drive around here, but that’s another blog post in itself trying to explain it and then discussing the reasons why like public funding for roads, employment rates, incomes, regulations, plenty of large trucks heading to Burkina, etc. Anyways, I made it to Paga alive, safe, healthy (a little sore), and happy.

Last Minute Change of Plans

One last thing I though I’d share before retreating to my bed net to sweat myself to sleep (ok I’m exaggerating but it’s pretty hot in here). So here’s a good example of ‘rolling with it’ and how things sort-of work here. I talked with my coach tonight who’s setting up my placement and she asked if I wouldn’t mind staying in a different district other than Bolgatanga. Apparently with a little miscommunication on EWB part and also some timing on the part of our partners, they are not ready for me in Zuarungu, but there’s a placement near the Burkina border just north of Bongo where another JF who’s leaving Canada in 3 weeks because he’s writing exams due the strike at York University. So Aaron was supposed to go north of Bongo but they are ready and expecting a volunteer, and already set up a place to stay, unlike in Zuarungu. So come Monday I’m heading north, which has its ups and downs, the downs would be living closer to desert ie: hotter, the ups being a new district EWB hasn’t worked in (as far as my knowledge goes) and with partner that is very motivated and excited to have an extra set of hands from what I’ve heard. I'll post up the details as soon as I can, probably later this week.

Confusing….check. Complicated…check. Last minute changes…check. Stress….nope, that’s optional. Well looks like my placement is turning out to be pretty normal after all, Did you really think that all the preparing, blog posting, trying to contact my coach and others who’ve been to the region, trying to learn the language, getting excited and comfortable about where I’ll be staying with its close internet access and proximity to other volunteers was all going to be nicely packaged awaiting my arrival? Nope, this is development. You just have to roll with it.

The Amazing Race – Tamale edition

I’m not sure how chronological these post are perceived, I’ve tended to write them all at once and post about the past several days. I figured that breaking them up and adding pictures might be a little more pleasing than a 4 page post to read. And you might get tired of me asking this, but if you have any input I’m ready and willing to shape this blog to fit the interests of whoever is reading it.

Anyways, I’m still writing on Sat May 9th at like 12:30am. It’s been a long day but I’m not feeling too tired so here’s another post. So after arriving in Tamale at around 1:30am two overseas volunteer staff (OVS) picked us up from the bus station and herded us into cabs and off to our new home for 2 days the Catholic Guest House, again like a motel. After unpacking a bit and getting organized and hydrated me and my short term roommate Adam aka AFK his initials, crashed around 3:30am when prayers were beginning at the Mosque and the roosters were crowing. We slept in till 9, I had an awesome cold shower which feels amazing after the incredible amount of sweat one accumulates in this humidity, then breakfast was waiting for us in the middle of the compound

And yes, you guessed it, fried egg sandwiches, but this time with sliced mangoes and milo malt milk (kinda like hot chocolate). It was a great start to a great day, I gotta give it to Shamir, Gato, and Ryan for making us feel welcome, just like Mary and Kelly did in Accra. It was a pretty relaxed day, we sat around for a while and talked and asked questions, then went out to lunch where I had Banku (a doughy/starchy substance with sauce and fish) with an ice cold Fanta, again thanks to the OVS’s for leading our “field trip”, a good analogy our past Windsor JF Ashley told me was new JF’s are like puppies that are constantly learning and making mistakes, very cuirious, won’t stray because of fear of the unknown, and will pretty much follow you anywhere. After stopping by the bank we were off our leashes and the amazing race began! Well…..it wasn’t quite an amazing race but we were in groups roaming around Tamale on a scavenger hunt for things like Malaria meds, cloth, cell phones, the 2nd season of Lost (doing some chores for the OVS Ryan), and couple other things like Fanmilk (a tasty frozen ice cream treat). It was pretty fun talking to people in the market, or at least attempting to, which was pretty busy. If you don’t look where you’re going you easily run into someone or something. Everyone we talked to was pretty friendly and helpful often sending us to talk with someone else who might have what we’re looking for or know where to find it. Of course, being pretty ignorant and clueless our group ended paying thrice the actual price of some things, we didn’t know any better and didn’t know much about the Old Ghana currency which everyone tells prices in, and the new Ghana currency which everyone uses. On the whole it was a good day, learning how to interact and talk with a Ghanaian accent/different words to use among other things.

Another thing, although I’ve heard about it and seen pictures, it still amazes me how elegantly and gracefully women carry large items upon their heads without hold them with their hands. There’s so many new things to soak in it’s hard to cram it all into blog post without exceeding 20 pages, but I’ll do what I can. We ended the day by visiting the new house of 2 other OVS’s (Sarah and Wayne) and enjoyed some good food and drinks as well as good company.

The long and winding road

The title of my previous post is probably going to be a common theme throughout the rest of my time in Ghana, and most likely in Canada as well. One of the tips or words of wisdom I received before heading to Ghana was “be comfortable with ambiguity” – good advice indeed. For instance, on our bus ride to Tamale when we were about 7.5 hours along, about two hours outside of Kumasi, we pulled over because the driver said there was a problem with the engine. So we waited, and waited, and waited, and waited some more until just after dark for another bus to arrive, then reloaded that bus. Luckily it was a pretty nice spot to breakdown with beautiful thick green forest surrounding us, and redish-marron earth to compliment it.

It was pretty peaceful there, but by the time I began to get irritated by the humid heat, the other bus arrived. We stopped once and ate some good food: fried egg sandwiches, red plantains, and water - there was obviously more variety but at this point I’m still clueless about what to eat, how much it costs, how to interact with people, and so on. So I stuck with what works.

From what I’ve seen so far in the past two days is that people are friendly if you are. Everyone I talked to about Ghana said the people are friendly, even travel books, but one thing I noticed is that if you’re standoffish and not friendly than people aren’t going to jump through hoops to please you, and rightfully so. It will be interesting to look back on these initial thoughts near the end of my placement and see if my assumptions change, but so far I found that if you offer a smile 90% of the time you get one in return.

Don’t worry, I’ll be uploading pics hopefully within the week

Just Roll With It

So I’m at the Catholic Guest House (like a motel) in Tamale, Northern Ghana not too far north but far enough to feel the heat. We arrived here at about 2am on Saturday, and as I write this it’s about 11pm Saturday. A lot has happened in the past few days, but here’s a make shift itinerary of our travels, I didn’t bother with the time change:

Wednesday

Left EWB guest house: 12pm

Arrived at Toronto airport: around 1:45pm

Left Toronto: 6pm

Thursday

Arrived in Rome: 7:45am

Left Rome: around 3pm

Arrived in Accra (Ghana): 9pm

Friday

Left guest house: 6am

Left Accra on bus: 7am

Bus broke down (engine troubles): 3pm

New bus arrived: 7pm

Arrived in Tamale: 1:30am

Asleep around 3:30am

Ok, so the traveling didn’t exactly start off too smooth. At the Toronto airport there was a problem with my ticket because since the day of departure was changed a couple days before I hadn’t been re-issued a ticket, so I had to call EWB they called the travel agent and things were sorted out. At security, I had to go in and out because I had my water bottle filled with water, my mistake. And of course to complicate things I came down with a cold on Wednesday so the aches/stuffed sinus/headache didn’t help. But one thing I was told in advance by a number of people, and I had to put into practice before landing in Ghana, is “just roll with it”. Basically, when things don’t go as planned or things change at the blink of eye you have to take it in stride and deal with it, there’s no sense in getting upset or stressed out about things that have already happened and you can’t change. So the plane ride was alright, pretty good food on Alitalia, lay-over in Italy was fine, had some time to read at the airport. During the flight to Ghana we got a clear view of the Sahara, but other than that just had some time to read and think, and kind of relax.

A couple people came and met us at the airport in Accra at night. It was kinda hectic at the time but kind of funny to look back at it. 13 westerners (or obrunis) jet lagged and clueless as two white younger women direct them like children on a school field trip into 4 cabs while other cabs try to get the business. Mary and Kelly were very nice to take the time to “hold our hands” and set us up in at the guest house, which is similar to a motel. So after a tasty fried egg sandwich from a nice street vender (equivalent to fast food but healthier I’d say), we hit the sack for about 4 hours before heading to the bus station in the morning.

Pretty much all of us volunteers have heard about the transit system of Ghana, which is affordable and will get you anywhere, but it may take a little longer than planned due to breakdowns. I’m not mechanically inclined with cars or buses or anything, but I’m sure the heat and humidity aren’t exactly helping. Anyways after some more confusion and awkwardness on my part at the bus station trying to sell an extra ticket our group had and buy something to eat for the trip (fried red plantains are amazing), we’re off to Tamale. So I’ve heard it’s about a 12 hour bus ride, but depends on the traffic, the driver, and breakdowns. It took us a little longer…….about 6 hours longer. But first some context, I’m sure this is similar to other countries, I witnessed it in Peru at least, but the roads are pretty crazy. Crazy in the sense that there is usually a furry of traffic going every which way on motorcycles, tro-tros (small mini-busses), buses, trucks, mopeds, and all. They drive fast and close, but unlike in Canada they use their horns and lights more as a function than as an expression of frustration or greeting. Like when cars are switching lanes all the time, they use their horns (at least from my perspective) to let the other car know they are their, they also use it when passing. I think someone referred to it before as “organized chaos”, organized because traffic flows pretty smooth with horns/lights and the bigger vehicles take charge and other smaller ones know their place. It’s easy to feel pretty nervous when in a vehicle because everyone drives a lot more aggressive than in Canada and the rules of road are lot more lax, but in my opinion when the bus you’re on is passing a truck at night up a hill and laying on the horn and flicking the bright to let potentially oncoming traffic know we’re passing, you just have to roll with it.

Ghana Tomorrow (after half a day in Rome of course)

Ghanadians

So we’re at the end of pre-departure training and getting all packed up for the long journey ahead tomorrow. It’s been a long week of early mornings and late nights with my brain working overtime. At the beginning of pre-departure we had a brainstorming session about what it takes to be an effective ‘development worker’, so as we’re about to leave Canada I thought I’d look back on some initial thoughts. Here’s some of the things we came up with: constantly aware, dealing with uncertainty, optimistic, positive, humility, reflection, empathy, asking questions, self awareness, knowing your limits, recognizing your own assumptions, building trust, and honesty. It looks great on paper, and these are great things to strive for, but I know it’ll be quite a challenge, a challenge that I feel ready for. Any other characteristics you can think of? One thing that comes to mind is something that Levi brought up. All of us heading to Ghana know we’re going to make mistakes, it’s pretty much a given, but the key is to minimize the time between making the mistake and realizing you made it.

My blog is your blog

In a workshop at UofT.
We were in this room all week, or what
Adam D. referredto is as 'the jail'

On the way home from school

We’ve had tons of workshops and discussions about a wide range of topics, some including rural livelihoods, culture shock, health and safety, gender issues, monitoring and evaluation, and communicating and messaging while overseas. The last one here, I’ve been thinking about more and more especially with this blog. I’m not exactly sure but I think people reading this blog are pretty different and interested in different things, so I’ll do what I can to keep that in mind so as to not focus only on one or two things like only work or only my home-stay. One of my goals of this blog is to keep everyone involved and hopefully feeling like they are a part of this experience. I understand that not everyone gets the opportunity to travel to Ghana, and I’m lucky to have been given this chance, so I’ll do what I can to illustrate one perspective of Ghana, but if anyone has any suggestions, ideas, questions, comments, or any feedback (positive or constructive) I’d really appreciate it. I don’t want this blog to only be about me, it would be great to get some of your perspectives and answer some questions about people and places in Ghana.

I guess I’ll leave off with a question that Parker (co-CEO) sent me via text message: should EWB work more with women or men farmers? What are the pros and cons of both?

Good Times Good People

Our days here in Toronto have consisted of some good times with pretty inspiring people. It feels like I’ve known these people for quite some time, and it may sound crazy but I’m sure I’ll miss living with 14 people. It feels like we’ve been roommates for years, and I’m getting used to the bunk beds and waiting lists for showers. Maybe it’s a nice change from living solo in a bachelor apt, to some good company 24/7.

In the beginning...

I arrived in TO on time and made it to the EWB house no problem, it was a good start to what I think will be a long summer. There’s only (what I call) “Team Ghana” or “Team G” here for pre-departure training to my surprise – I was expecting like 40 people crammed in a house sleeping on the floor. Apparently the other JF’s going to Burkina Faso, Zambia, and Malawi will be here the next week for training, so right now there’s only about 14 of us heading to Ghana.

I’m enjoying my time with everyone so far, sharing some initial feelings and talking about this and that, I’m sure that by the end we will become friends and get together once in a while in Ghana. Today we start our training sessions at the UofT with Levi (overseas program director) Alanna (JuniorFellowSuportStaff West Africa) and Melissa (JFSS Southern Africa). I already enjoy being around a group of like minded people and ‘talking development’ and everyone seems pretty friendly, so I’m really looking forward to this week of thinking and learning. I’m reading to find out what I know and what I don’t know, and find out if I really know what I think I know?