Happy New Year! I'm not big on New Year's resolutions, but this year I've mad two. One of them is to not post on this blog again (after this one). There are always more stories to tell about Ghana, but my interest in telling them has waned. Thank you for reading over the past 18 months. It's been gratifying that you have been interested enough in what I'm doing to check this site and read my stories.

Until this year, schooling in had Ghana progressed from six years of primary to three years of junior secondary and finally to three years of senior secondary. About one-third of Ghanaians made it as far as finishing secondary school (according to official stats). The system has changed. Under new educational reforms, senior secondary school (where I teach) will henceforth be four years for incoming students. The other big change is that ICT (what I teach) joins English, math, social studies, and science as required subjects. In theory, this change dramatically increases my teaching load. Second-year students have ICT once a week and third-years have it twice, meaning that I teach a total of only twelve periods a week not including the first-years. Under the new curriculum, first years have ICT six times a week, which, in theory, would increase my teaching load from sixteen periods last year to thirty-six. Yikes. Luckily for me, we don't have many first-year students. Because education usually stops at the junior secondary level (JSS), choosing a senior secondary school (SS) is a big deal. I don't know how the system used to work, but last year it went digital. JSS students select four preferred schools when they register for their final exams. They then get assigned to one of those schools based on their results. Schools in the cities have competitive admissions, so only students who score well on their final exams will get admitted by the computerized system. I teach at a rural school, and apparently no one wants to come here. Our incoming class is only half full (or half empty?). There are other unofficial ways of getting into schools. Practices no doubt vary by school, but it seems that headmasters have some leeway in admitting students not assigned by the computerized system. I don't know if money changes hands in these transactions or if decisions are based on other factors. The national government has also outlawed headmasters admitting students except for recruiting athletes (at least that's what I'm told). Regardless, there is no line of students waiting to get into my school. Not only are we a rural school, but we also do not have a business program, which is apparently popular. We only offer home ec, general arts, and technical (woodworking, building and construction, and technical drawing). As far as I can tell, my school does not do any recruiting. So, in case you're looking for a secondary school in Ghana's Central Region, here are a few regions to come to my school: 1. We now have white wipey boards in almost all classrooms (replacing the unusable blackboards) 2. Our school is conveniently located…from our district capital; go towards Oda and take the first (paved) left, branch left at the filling station, take the right at the top of the hill; turn left at the T-junction, go straight through the 4-way junction, make your first left at the signboard and you're there! (Note: these are the real directions. Street names, if we had any, would only make things more confusing) 3. Our uniform colors are off-white and burgundy, so if you're into that… 4. There is minimal asbestos in our roofing 5. For a limited time only, the school has a white computer teacher (from America!) 6. We're consistently ranked among the top 5 secondary schools in the district (yes, there are only 5 total) 7. Our school is getting a significant upgrade. When completed, we will have new facilities and programs (or programmes)! 8. We have pretty flowers around campus. 9. Our science lab is filled with dangerous chemicals. 10. Come for the Christian Religious Studies. Stay for Religious and Moral Education (two subjects taught in most schools in Ghana). 11. The students! The teachers! The administration!

I am still alive and well in Ghana. Since I last wrote anything here, many things have happened. I went to America (the embassy in Accra to take the LSAT), school fully re-opened, the new students have begun to show up, another group of Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Ghana and another group went home, I've almost entered my 18 th month in Ghana, the first supermarket in Ghana opened, construction has been delayed all over town, and I saw something funny. First, the construction delays. Sometime in April/May, workers started digging ditches in the part of town where I live for a new drain system. They created much havoc. Apparently the drains had to be situated where people already had various sheds, fences, and even walls of their houses. Much property had to be destroyed. About six months later, the drains are still under construction. Workers don't show up for weeks at a time. Mounds of dirt and concrete have been left in the middle of my street making it impossible for cars to maneuver (it was fairly difficult before the construction). Also in April, the street light outside of my house went out. I assume it still works and only needs a new bulb. Six months later, it has yet to be replaced. There is a major construction project happening at my school. It's a $500,000 renovation that will build new classrooms, a new computer lab, a new administration building, new toilets, and more. They are also scheduled to renovate some existing buildings. The project has come to a halt due to lack of financing. Eighty percent was to be paid by the African Development Bank and the rest was coming from the Ghanaian national government. Apparently, ADB stopped sending money, so work has been stopped for more than a month. No one here seems to know when/if it will continue. The entire project was scheduled for completion in June. Side note, my house is surrounded by three half-built houses. One has sat in its current state since I arrived. One has seen little improvement. The other is actually progressing. The mostly-built house across the street is most upsetting because it has sat unoccupied since I moved in. If it did not exist I would have a beautiful view of the town and the surrounding lush hills. Instead, I get to look at a concrete block. Now for the funny thing I saw.

Second-hand clothing from the developed world is pervasive in Ghana. There are designer shirts from Armani, apparel from Nike, licensed jerseys, and I've even spotted bar mitzvah shirts and a London 2012 tee. I assume, and I think this is backed up by the scant evidence I've collected, that most people have no idea what their clothing "means." In other words, the Nike Swoosh, recognized by the vast majority of Americans, is meaningless here. And it goes without saying that no one knows what a bar mitzvah is. I'm not sure how Ghanaians choose which second-hand clothing to buy, but I would guess it has a lot to do with price and color. I was recently in a tro. The man sitting next to me had a pair of locally made khaki pants and a brown shirt. Maybe it clashed, but I'm not sure. Regardless, on top of the brown shirt he was wearing a royal blue vest (I'm almost certain it clashed). The vest had two red stripes across the top. In one of the top corners there was a large patch. It was the Rite-Aid logo. The man sitting next to me was wearing the Rite-Aid employee vest. I have no real issue with Rite-Aid or with people who work there. I just would not expect anyone, employee or not, to wear their vest around town. In all likelihood, he has no idea what the Rite-Aid patch means. For all he knows, Rite-Aid could be the most fashionable and expensive designer in Europe. I imagined that he was some businessman and was traveling to America for some meeting. He walks into a meeting full of Americans with his Rite-Aid vest on. If you were to try to explain to him what a Rite-Aid is, he probably would not quite get it. Stores like that just don't exist here until... The supermarket! Something called the Accra Mall is slowly opening. The first store, called Game, opened in May. It's like Target or K-Mart. Since I make about $200 a month, I don't have a lot of money to spend on the kind of things that one buys at a big retailer like that. It was entertaining to walk up and down the aisles, but that's about it. Other equally useless smaller stores have opened. There's a Sony Store, a cell phone store, a hair salon, a shoe store, etc. Last week Ghana's first supermarket opened. Of course, Ghana has places to buy food, but stores are small, cramped, and do not have many products for sale. This is the first real supermarket – 25 aisles, a bakery, butcher, fruits/vegetables, etc. They don't carry American brands. Mostly, I think, products are made in Africa and Asia. I bought a bag of ziti and a soya mince (aka textured vegetable protein)…

My school has a bus. It's all white and has the school name and logo neatly painted on the side. It's about the size of a mini-bus in America. Comfortably it seats twenty or so, but when it's actually transporting students (which is rare) it's usually packed to twice its capacity. Mostly the school bus serves as a private gas guzzler for the headmaster, but it also helps out with various school errands. One such errand would be transporting the school's new computers from the port back to the school. A few days before the ship arrived at the port, I told my headmaster to reserve the school bus. The computers would soon be arriving and there could be no delay in getting them. He said that the school bus had broken down (something about the flux capacitor), but it was being fixed and would be ready on time. Right. My agents at the port told me that it once the ship arrived, it would take a few days for the container to actually be removed and ready to be opened. I waited for their call, and when it never came I followed up. No later than next Tuesday I was told. Tuesday came and went, and I still had not heard anything. I called again. We'll call you when it's ready, I was told. That Friday my father called me. He had been dealing with the shipping agent in New York since this saga began. He sounded strained (note that the American Heritage Dictionary has four definitions for strained. I am using the word here to mean, "having been passed through a strainer"). He had just talked with the New York shipping agent who told him that the container had indeed arrived at the port in Ghana, but…(pause here for dramatic effect)…US Customs ordered it to be immediately returned to the US without being opened. US Customs had informed the shipping line which had confiscated the container and was storing it at the port. No explanation was given nor was anyone even supposed to inform us. I've only thought about US Customs as it relates to two issues. The first is port security, which Democrats used to bring up as evidence that Bush was not "protecting America." Charles Schumer launched an investigation, I'm sure, and probably held a press conference at a port with several large color charts). The second issue is the importation of horses and guns for use at the 2012 Olympic Games. From these two mental flirtations I have inferred that a) US Customs is tied up with homeland security so their job is somehow serious; b) US Customs follows, or at least is supposed to follow, strict government rules; and c) if you want them to change any of those rules it's best to ask them at least seven years in advance. I assumed that trying to get US Customs to reverse its decision was a lost cause, but I suppose it's doesn't hurt to try. The New York shipping agent appealed to the local customs office. The agents at the port in Ghana asked the local authorities to intervene. A Ghanaian Minister of Parliament, who has a car in the same container, also asked the local customs authorities for help. Meanwhile, I visited a local fetish priest and asked him to make the director of US Customs turn into a frog (they have powers, I'm told). Three weeks later, the container is still supposedly sitting at the port in Ghana. Apparently the problem was that the shipping line put the container on the ship before US Customs properly inspected it. From what I'm told, any container with a car inside is supposed to sit in the port for 72 hours before being loaded onto the ship. The shipping company may dispute this explanation and may try and blame the shipping agent. I'm kind of out of the loop. And that's all I have to say about that… Addendum #1: School has reopened.

Although the donation was secured in March/April, the computers did not actually leave the US until July. I can only speculate about the cause of the delay, but it turned out to be a useful setback (sort of). Because the computers are for a school, I went to the ministry of education to get an exemption on duties, taxes, and VAT. Actually, in Ghana education falls under the auspices of the Ministry of Education, Science, and Sports, abbreviated MoESS because they recognize that using the acronym MESS would be silly. I submitted a bunch of paperwork (including something called a "bill of lading" from my shipping agent in New York) to the ministry. The ministry would write a cover letter and forward it all to the Ministry of Finance. Then Finance would write a letter to the VAT office. VAT would follow that with a letter to the customs authority, which, finally, would issue the exemption letter. My contact at MoESS told me that this whole process would take a week. I laughed. "A week?!" I said to him, "Yeah, right. It probably takes you a week to put your pants on in the morning!" (I didn't really say that to him). I gave it about a week and then called him. He said he would check on it and get right back to me. He didn't. So I called again the next day and pretty much the same thing happened. We repeated this process several times over the course of a month, and each time there was another excuse. "I'm out of the office. I'll call you later." "Let me check on that and get right back to you." "You'll have to speak up. I'm wearing a towel." Etc. After about five weeks, I went to see him at his office. He insisted that the letter had gone to finance weeks ago. So, I went with one his subordinates to the appropriate office at finance. They had never received the letter, they claimed, and proved it by opening a composition book wherein the secretary keeps a handwritten log of all such requests they receive. Nothing says authority like a composition book, so that was that. Next we went to the office at MoESS that was supposed to have written a cover letter to finance. They too claimed to have never seen anything. All of my paperwork had been lost. Apparently I spent weeks calling about nothing. This was a frustrating setback, particularly since the computers had now left New York and were on their way to Ghana. If the exemption letter was not ready by the time the computers arrived, I would have to pay fees for storing them in the port until I had the letter. So I started over. I called my new contact at MoESS almost daily. He would check on the progress by literally walking to the office at Finance and asking the secretary. After just a few days, she had typed the letter (it's a standard form letter), but the letter still needed her boss's signature. It took a week (a whole week) for him to sign this letter, and it would have taken longer if not for my new best friend at MoESS sitting in the finance office until 7:30 pm on a Friday holding the letter, waiting for it to be signed. We similarly pestered the VAT and customs people, and to their credit, they acted rather quickly. Meanwhile, my shipping agent in New York emailed me to tell me that the computers would arrive in a matter of days. He also casually attached a new bill of lading to the email with some corrections. I hoped this would not present any problems. Finally, I went to pick up the exemption letter from customs and saw that the old bill of lading number was featured prominently. I asked the customs official if they could correct the letter because I had a new bill of lading with a new number. No, I was told, because the letters from finance and from VAT also referenced the old bill of lading number so I would have to start from the beginning. But couldn't customs just issue a new letter and copy it to finance and VAT? Finance is a freakin' black hole! Please don't make me go back there! No, I was told, customs' slogan is something like "assume everyone is trying to commit fraud" and they need to be extra careful (actually, a second customs official interjected, that's no longer the slogan). In addition to restarting the process, I would also have to go to the port and retrieve a copy of the now worthless exemption letter. Both the original and the copy sent to the port would have to be returned before I could get the new exemption letter. Finance was, undoubtedly, thrilled to see me and my new best friend from MoESS again. But they were understanding of my situation and completed the letter (and signed it) that same afternoon. The next week I took my exemption letter to the port to claim the copy. I have a contact there called a clearing agent. This is the person (or business) that "processes" the shipment and has the authority to remove items from the port. My clearing agent brought me to the appropriate customs office. We were told that no such letter had arrived. So I left the exemption letter with the clearing agent who said he would come get the letter for me. Three days later, I received a call from him. In fact, the original exemption letter is fine. The "corrected" bill of lading sent by my shipping agent had been a mistake. In other words, my third round with the ministries had been for nothing. The next day I went back to customs to confirm that the old letter was still "in the system" and would still be OK at the port. Yes, it still was. Finally, this confusing and frustrating process was finished. My computers were set to arrive and I would be able to bring them to my school without paying any taxes. Or would I? Find out in the exciting final chapter of the Adventures in Importing Trilogy…

Several months ago my father was able to get twenty computers donated to my school. They come from a corporation in New York whose annual revenue exceeds Ghana's gross domestic product, probably by about a factor of two. This company was moving offices, and I suppose when a corporation of that size moves offices they discover that they have a bunch of computers that need a new home. So, for me, getting the donation was relative easy. (Step 1 – send an email to my father. Step 2 – wait for a reply.) The real challenge was figuring out how to get them from Manhattan to my school. I searched the internet for shippers to Ghana, but my efforts were futile. Shippers do indeed have websites, but ships going from New York to Ghana are massive and require that you send at least a forty-foot container. Luckily, there's a man in my town that lived in the US (Teaneck, NJ of all places) for about thirty years and he brought several items to Ghana , such as a car. I figured he must have experience in this sort of thing. Turns out that a Ghanaian he used to live with in the Bronx ships containers from New York to Ghana and divides up the container among several clients. Perfect. There's a phrase in Twi that literally translates into 'you have done something.' Seems like a trivial observation, but this phrase is used in practice to mean 'nice job' or something to that effect. However, 'you have done something' seems more appropriate here because it can be such a hassle to get anything done. Some challenges are due to lack of infrastructure or technology. For example, sending an email or making a photocopy, tasks that would be practically instantaneous in an American office, require equipment that simply is not widely available here. You have to go somewhere with an internet connection, for example, and that requires transportation (see lack of infrastructure). And if the electricity isn't working (see lack of infrastructure), well then you'll just have to come back another day. Other challenges are due to a somewhat different attitude or expectations towards work. I'm sure that economic development is a complicated thing. Some claim that culture matters. Others say it doesn't. All I know is that Ghana is home to the six-hour meeting, a real productivity killer. Actually, the meeting itself only lasts about four hours, but it always starts two hours late. I ask other teachers at my school why we're always starting two hours late and the standard response is that we're on 'African Time.' I've come to see 'African Time' as an unfortunate remnant from the past when there was no modern infrastructure and before watches and other modern conveniences make it possible for most people to come on time most of the time. It's something that could easily be ended if only people, specifically the leadership (school headmaster in my case), decided to do it. But they don't and African Time persists. In my experience, I've seen a generally more relaxed view of work. Granted my only comparison is to New York where it's perhaps a bit intense. We are repeatedly told during training, and I think it's true, that Peace Corps Volunteers can't change a culture. It's not something that possible to do nor is it something that should be done. All you can do is do your job as best as you can and people may or may not pick up on it. But it's easy for volunteers to look at what's going on around them and not live up to their own expectations. Things can be de-motivating or frustrating, and some volunteers may tend to follow the examples of others. The challenges of living in Ghana can compound the problem either by providing a sense of achievement merely for succeeding at day-to-day activities or by consuming too much time and energy. Somehow that all relates to my recent adventures in importing. In part 2, I'll go into too much detail about what it's like to work with government ministries in Accra and look forward to the surprise twist at the end/middle (no one knows??) that no one expected! Addendum #1: More pictures added. Addendum #2: The electricity situation has suddenly improved. The electricity still goes off but for far fewer hours. The downside is that the schedule is unpredictable. Previously, the 12 hour blackouts were like clockwork (and not a clock on African Time). Lights went off exactly as expected. Now, I'm sitting at my computer in fear that it can go off at any time.

The hype started more than a year ago. Towards the end of my Peace Corps training I traveled to what would soon be my new home for a four day visit. I arrived about two weeks before the town's annual festival, but unfortunately I was back in training during the festivities. This festival attracts people from all over the world, I was told by people in town. It's world famous, I learned. The men dress up as women and parade around the town. There is much rejoicing. Much of the excitement actually came from the school typist. She had been assigned to take me around town during my visit. She was a good guide and occasionally dispensed random advice such as, "fornication is a sin" and told me the story of how her husband proposed to her over the phone before they had met or even had a single conversation. Throughout the next year she would occasionally bring up the festival saying things like, "you will go and your mother will be happy." Indeed. The owner of my house, a kindly old man named Papa Eidu, is also enthusiastic about the festival but in a different way. He told me the Akwanbo Festival celebrates the warrior heritage of the people. It was originally a three-day festival (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday) but has more recently been expanded to an entire week. On the first three days, different groups of people parade through town, apparently somehow recalling how people used to come back from war. The big day is Saturday when the town gathers at Victoria Park, a big field in the middle of town. My final source of information leading up to the festival was one of the construction workers who live with me. He comes from Accra and had never heard of Akwanbo before. I never really thought it was world famous, but I thought at least maybe it was Ghana famous. From what I know about celebrations in Ghana, I expected a lot of drinking, dancing and some sort of official ceremony that would start late, drag on for too long, and be conducted entirely in Twi. Akwanbo for me started on Tuesday (I wasn't in town on Monday). There were a lot of people parading through town, including a few men dressed as women, as well as some more traditional drumming. Wednesday featured a small group of old men sort of dressed as warriors singing and parading through town. I invited some other Peace Corps Volunteers (aka whites) to come on Saturday. Keeping with local tradition (although this is more applicable to funerals), we started drinking early and then headed into town to see what was going on. As predicted by Papa Eidu, the town had indeed gathered in Victoria Park in the traditional Ghanaian fashion, sitting in plastic chairs under canopies that are arranged in a rectangle. This is the standard arrangement for all official ceremonies, such as funerals, weddings, and graduations. The dais canopy was empty upon our arrival, and it seemed that we just missed the parade of chiefs who are traditionally carried in by their respective entourages. Oh well. You've seen one chief parade you've kind of seen them all. Then two teams of "warriors" (the only real warrior element was the guns) each danced in the middle of the rectangle. There were also a few men dressed as women. Then we left to do more drinking. When we returned, the Dick Cheney of Ghana (aka the vice president) had just rolled up in his motorcade. The dais was now full of various officials who were being introduced. We can only guess what happened next since we left, but all signs pointed to long speeches in Twi. Till next year…(actually, I'll probably be in America) Addendum #1: Grading is harsh at my school. I kind of curved my final grades so as not to fail 90% of the class, but it seems that most teachers have no problem failing a significant percentage of their students. Addendum #2: Mike, I think the reason I can't poop and scoop is because the toilet is not a sanitary environment. So, for example, if the previous person had worms then perhaps those worms would also show up in my sample. Just a guess…

Last week I was in Accra for mid-service medical, a quick check-up mandated by Washington for every Peace Corps Volunteer who has completed one year of service. The major activity of the week was pooping into a cup, which I did three mornings in a row. The task is a bit intimidating at first. Never having pooped into a cup before, I was uncertain about the technique (how to sit, where exactly to position the cup) and what to do with my delicious sample once I finished. My first time was awkward and uncomfortable, but by the third time I felt like I could poop into any cup, any time, anywhere. This is a skill I will use again when I have another check-up before I leave the country. When in Accra, volunteers stay in a room at a hotel. The room has four bunk beds, AC, hot water (in theory), a refrigerator, and a TV/DVD player. With the exception of a bed, I live with none of those things (unless it's a really hot day and the water tank outside my house has heated up in the sun). Open drains notwithstanding, the hotel's neighborhood is one of the cleanest and most upscale in Ghana. It's also in a great location, just a short ride from Peace Corps office (free Internet access) and within walking distance to many restaurants. In other words, staying in Accra is a poor simulation of staying in the US. And once I've settled into the western-style accommodation, other western comforts soon follow. For example, I spend about 10 to 20 times as much money on a dinner in Accra compared to a dinner in my town (although I rarely eat out in my town). That kind of cash ($5 to $10) allows me to eat at the Ghanaian equivalent of Pizza Hut, a tex-mex sports bar, or the local Chinese restaurant that everyone suspects has a suspicious health record. These dining options would inspire little excitement in the US, but American-style fast food is a luxury to Peace Corps Volunteers because it tastes good and it reminds us of home. When I first arrived in Ghana I found this craving, and even the presence of fast food, to be an unfortunate. Of all the things that Ghana may need, consumerism and consumption of fast food would seem to rank far below clean drinking water and just slightly above head lice or a civil war. After a year of living in Ghana, I've come to regard these concerns as legitimate and silly. If I could make all decisions without regard for my gut, I would probably end up with different results. But at this point, my gut has powerful sway. A new "fun" thing to do in Accra is to go shopping at the Accra Mall. In theory, the mall opened in May, but only one store has been completed. The mall seems to be similar to a mall in the US, complete with glass doors that automatically open and full air conditioning. It's the sort of place that defies Western expectations for what Africa is supposed to be like. After all, isn't everyone here supposed to be poor? But this is where the other half (or really the other 1%) will come to shop. The one store is called Game. It's based in South Africa and also has stores in Nigeria and perhaps other African countries. It sells everything from flat panel televisions to patio furniture. There are not many recognizable American brands, but the prices and store layout are what you'd expect if I told you it is the African equivalent of Target. I ended up buying a Snickers, two pencil sharpeners, and a pack of gum, but I studied the store aisle by aisle like I was at a museum ( e.g.: "They sell cricket bats and baseball bats here. Fascinating.") Previously, two Lebanese-owned, three-story shopping centers had been among the few stores to cater to western buying habits. The first floor is groceries (although far smaller than an American supermarket), and the top two floors feature house wares, electronics, toys, and a café. Everything that's imported is expensive (like a can of ShopRite asparagus for $6), but it's the only place in Ghana where you can get those things. There's another tier of luxury in Accra that's beyond my normal budget. It includes 5-star hotels, a few restaurants that are perhaps forty to sixty times more expensive than a typical meal in my town, and a bowling alley (pricey at $5 a game). Yet another reason why Peace Corps is two years… Addendum #1: Staying in Accra has allowed me to catch up on some American movies, including Reno 911, Shrek 3, Borat, Nacho Libre, and Knocked Up. Supposedly there is one "movie theater" in Accra that projects DVDs, but I watched all of these off bootleg DVDs on a TV. It's difficult to find any American movies other than bootlegs of the latest major Hollywood releases. Addendum #2: How long does it take to change in light bulb in my town? So far about two months and counting. There is light pole outside my house. It has the unfortunate effect of attracting undesirables (noisy children), so I'm glad the bulb went out. In theory, the District Assembly is responsible for replacing the bulb, and someone may or may not have put in a request for them to do that.

Although my official end date here is more than a year away, I figured out that I only have about 125 days of actual teaching left, and many volunteers who came over with me have just over 100 days to go. The school year is divided into three 13-week terms. The last two weeks of the term are exams, so there is no teaching. The students never show up during the first week of each term, so that leaves ten weeks of teaching per term. Then there's mid-term break, which knocks off another few days, and there are other interruptions such as holidays and sports days, and so many excuses, such as quiz competitions, campus cleanings, and teacher meetings, which cause students not to come to my class. I estimate that these miscellaneous distractions eat up about another week of teaching. That leaves me with three terms of 8.5 weeks each, or about 127 days of teaching. Most teachers are supposed to have one day off per week (I have it this term but did not the other two), meaning that most of the volunteers in my group have only 102 days of teaching to go in their 2-year service. In reality, I will probably teach no more than 120 days in the next year, but will show up to school about 160 times in the next 400+ days. It's tough to complain about free time, especially when tropical beaches are so close, but I could. Addendum #1: I set a new personal record by waiting on line at the bank for 3 hours and 45 minutes just to make a withdrawal. Amazing.

On July 1, the government will introduce a new currency, sort of. The currency now in use is called the Cedi, and it comes in various coins ranging in value from 50 to 500 and bills ranging from 1,000 to 20,000. Because of super-inflation of years past, the current exchange rate is about 9,300 cedis to the dollar. For potential foreign investors, this exchange rate apparently does not inspire confidence. What sort of economy would maintain a currency at an exchange rate of 10,000 to 1? Also, according to the government, its budget is now in the trillions, a number so large that computers (I've actually heard this argument) can not handle the calculations (I think what they're really saying is they have no idea how to use Microsoft Excel...Format-Cell-Use comma separator!!). It is also a hassle to buy anything of value. For example, given that the most valuable bill is worth two dollars, one may need hundreds of bills to purchase, say, a refrigerator or a television. And when I go to an ATM, my $90 withdrawal (the max at any machine) may come out as forty or eighty bills. It's a bit much for my wallet. So the government (technically the independent national bank) has decided to "re-denominate" the cedi by chopping off 4 zeroes. In other words, 10,000 cedis is now 1 Ghana Cedi. It insists, to the point of it becoming a national joke, that this is not a revaluation, but a re-denomination. Tons of money has been spent on public education campaigns to hammer home this point. The value is the same. The value is the same. The value is the same. Every Ghanaian has heard this slogan, but ask someone the difference between a redenomination and a revaluation and you'll get a blank stare. (OK, I haven't actually asked a random person this question, but my sense is that the information awareness campaigns have overused the meaningless word re-denomination. The real message is, "don't worry, we're not stealing your money. Even though you had 10,000 cedis and now you have only 1, it's worth the same and we're not pocketing any of it.") The "new" currency will come in bills worth 1, 5, 10, 20, and 50 Ghana Cedis. There will also be pesawas worth 1, 5, 10, 20, and 50 (100 pesawas = 1 Ghana Cedi). A Ghana Cedi will be worth a few cents more than a dollar. In theory, the old cedi and the new Ghana Cedi will exist together until the end of the year. For the wealthy, which I imagine represent a tiny fraction of Ghanaians, it will be convenient to have a bill worth more than 2 dollars. This redenomination may also give potential investors more confidence in the country's prospects, and the government's computers won't be blowing quite as many vacuum tubes with the smaller numbers in the budget. But most Ghanaians are not wealthy. In fact, they are poor farmers or small-time traders and are not regularly involved in transactions worth more than a few dollars. I don't have statistics to back this up, but I would guess that millions of people go weeks or even months without spending more than $5 in a single day. This group of the population is essentially being transferred to a coin-based economy. People's daily needs, such as food, soap, and other commonly bought items usually cost less than a dollar, or one Ghana Cedi. These people have no need for a 5, 10, 20 or 50 Cedi bill, and, in fact, if they were to use one, the small-time rural traders they are buying from probably will not have change. There are only a few places in my town where I will even try using a 20,000 ($2) bill, so I won't even bother with a 5 Ghana Cedi ($5) bill. Paying for something in my town with 10 Ghana Cedis ($10) would be like buying a newspaper on the street with a $100 bill. People like me live in both the wealthy, urban Ghana and the rural, poor Ghana. I use ATMs and occasionally travel to Accra and other places, but I also buy vegetables from the market in my town and fish from the 10 year old girl who walks by my house with a tray of it on her head. I'm part of Ghana's "middle class." We are totally screwed. In my town, I'm in the same boat as the poor when it comes to the currency I can use. I will have to use coins and 1 Ghana Cedi bills. There just won't be change for anything larger. But when I go to the ATM to withdraw my Peace Corps money, I suspect it won't be spitting out 1's. So I will either have to wait 2 hours in line at the bank and ask for a giant stack of singles, thereby making the new currency no more convenient than the old, or somehow convert whatever the ATM gives me to a more usable form. The new, larger bills will not benefit me at all. Also, I hate coins. I lose them, I can't keep them in my wallet, and they make noise when I walk. In the US I could collect them and bring them to a coin-counting machine at Commerce Bank. In Ghana I collected them guilt-free knowing that in total I probably had all of $6 idling in my room. But now coins mean something. You'd be surprised how much Chinese manufactured soap you can buy with 50 pesawas (50 cents). Or with 50 pesawas I could buy 10 fresh oranges (although I could probably bargain for 12), or one really big delicious pineapple, or so many bananas that I won't poop for a week (although I suspect my banana lady is giving me a good deal because she thinks it will inspire me to take her to America). The redenomination also has the potential to cause mass confusion, and I suspect that some people will try and capitalize on it by raising prices. Chopping off four zeroes is not so easy, especially when there are decimals involved. Using scientific notation makes the calculation a lot simpler, and I really think the government has missed an opportunity to teach the general population about exponents. But because this is about people's money, and what could be more important, I think people will get it pretty quickly...

Sometimes Ghanaians can't think of the disting that they're trying to say. English is at best a second disting for them, so it's understandable when they occasionally forget a word. But at times it gets out of disting. The student I live with is a repeat disting. When he's talking in English, it often seems that he can't think of every other word in a disting. He often speaks with a bit of disting, so you can tell he's trying to think of the right word but just can't. Other people use it seamlessly without any disting, as if nothing is wrong. Recently in a class of first-year students, I had the class change the disting in a Microsoft Word document. Only one student was able to do it, so I asked him to stand up and explain what he did to the rest of the disting. He said, and I quote, "I clicked on the disting." I asked him how he could just "disting" the most important word in the sentence, especially when it was not obvious to the rest of the class what he was talking about! Such is disting. Teachers at my disting have similar problems. Some of them speak fluently, but there are a few whose disting is so broken that I wonder if they're having a positive influence on the students. Some of them also talk Pidgin disting, which I find difficult to understand. But I think they only use it when they talk among themselves, so it's not too disting. This linguistic disting is consistent across large parts of the country. I've heard disting used in multiple regions of Ghana, and I wonder if it has spread to other countries. Maybe it's a West Africa disting. I've started to occasionally use disting as well. For example, I wrote this in my computer lab and then saved it to my disting. Then I took it to the Internet café and I'm now posting it on my disting. It's a catchy word, and it applies to so many distings…

Addendum #1: Ghana struck oil! A few days ago the government announced that a delicious oil reserve was discovered off the coast. They have not officially announced how big it is, but I've heard numbers ranging from 300 to 600 million barrels. Ghana now becomes part of an exclusive African club that includes Nigeria, Angola, Libya, Guinea, and Sudan, although I think Ghana has less oil than any of those countries (certainly far less than nearby Nigeria which produces 2.5 million barrels a day). In theory, oil could be a real boon to the economy and do a lot to alleviate poverty….in theory. Addendum #2: I posted a few new pictures. Why not look at them? Addendum #3: I don't have any big plans for my 6-week break because I'm planning on taking the LSATs in September, so I want to study for that. There is a park in the north of the country that has elephants, hippos, baboons, and other animals, but apparently it's best to go in the dry season, which is what you might call the "winter." I also hope to see the Sahara at some point in the next year.

On June 9 at about 7:30 PM I hit my one-year mark in Ghana. That's one full calendar year. 12 months. 365 days. Nearly 4% of my life. Since Peace Corps is technically a 27-month commitment (although easily reducible to 26 for the well-behaved), I won't hit the halfway point until some day in July. Nonetheless, it's all down hill from here, hopefully the coasting and not the depressing kind of downhill. Last week I was sick for a few days with what I could only assume was malaria, typhoid fever, or some other tropical disease. People here get malaria all the time, or at least they assume they have it (use more blood tonic – it cleans "dirty blood"). And a friend's neighbor recently claimed to have typhoid. These things happen. Turns out, I had a mild cold and I was cured in two days, but that doesn't change the fact that it could have been dengue fever or sleeping sickness, among others. But, in a little over a year, or about 432 days, I plan on being back in the US and won't have to consult a book titled "Where There Is No Doctor" every time I sneeze (that I know that number has more to do with the fact that I have a lot of free time in a computer lab than anything else, and I almost never sneeze here). And I'm quite certain that won't be the only thing that changes once I get back to the US. But I'll go and Ghana will stay. Though it and everyone I know here will continue to exist, it will only survive somewhere in the back of mind. (It's fun to think about how far in the back it will go.) But leaving is still a long way away. A lot could happen between now and then. I could even sign up for a third year… Addendum #1: For the first time, I heard a Ghanaian make fun of Bush. It was great. A morning show on one of the country's big radio stations had a segment of stupid Bush quotes. After the segment, the host moved on to a news item about a man being suffocated to death by elephant poop. This show is a keeper. Addendum #2: The rainy season is in full effect, and it's one of the best things that's happened since I got here. It's now normally cloudy, and it's rarely unbearably hot. And, true to the name, it rains several times a week, sometimes multiple times in a single day. This wonderfulness should last until August or September, and then it's back to hellish unless some side-effect of global climate change kicks in to make it somehow different. Addendum #3: Another term is nearly finished. I think there will only be 4 more weeks of teaching followed by exams. The coming break is 6 weeks long. 6 weeks!

On June 12, a new group of Peace Corps Volunteers will land in Ghana. They will be the first group of teachers to arrive since I came last year. Their landing is amusing to me because it means there will be about 30 Americans running around who don't have a clue, just like me one year ago. And for about the first month or two I can think about how ridiculous they are, what with their complaining, confusion, silly questions, and whatnot. "Ha," I will laugh to myself, "You've only been here for 5 weeks or some such insignificant period of time. You know nothing! I am master of Ghana !" But most of them will catch on quickly (the rest will freak out and go home), and I won't be able to laugh at them anymore. Alas, the joke will be over and they will be in the same boat I'm in now. Recently, someone in this new group posted a comment on this site asking about things to bring to Ghana. I think his name is Dave. Anyway, his post raised the disturbing and amusing possibility that there are other members of this new group reading this site. Peace Corps sends each new volunteer-to-be information about Ghana. Included in this packet are letters from actual volunteers about life in Ghana . They'll probably never get a letter from someone who is sick with Dengue Fever, had his house broken into, and is feeling lonely and depressed. I suspect Peace Corps' censorship is not the only issue. Volunteers who choose to take their time to write welcome letters for a Peace Corps publication are a self-selecting group, and the sick, lonely crime victim seems less likely to do so. As for me, I just tend to avoid the Peace Corps office (the business pace of Ghana combined with the bureaucracy of Washington, from what I've heard). But the Internet is powerful! I can communicate with this so-called new group and tell them all the important things they really need to know about Ghana. So here they are: Things to bring: A few books to read during training A stuffed animal – it will soon become your best (only) friend Shampoo and deodorant (They're hard to find. Soap and toothpaste are not) Lots of underwear and socks, although socks are generally optional; I do highly recommend underwear At least two bags of Fritos and a bag of textured vegetable protein for me (see your local health food store) Two years supply of water (unless you're planning on having diarrhea constantly) USB memory thumb pen drive things can be helpful, even if you're not a computer teacher Clothing: Don't stress too much about this. There's no dress code for school, but you're expected to look presentable. You can always get clothing made here. You won't have money for it when you first arrive, but by the time you start teaching you'll have plenty of money to get a few pairs of pants and shirts. You really only need to bring enough clothing for training. The training dress code is pants and a shirt, preferably with a collar, but I don't think they were too upset with t-shirts (I have no idea what women wear). Also, see the note above about socks and underwear. Hobbies: We tend to have more time here in Ghana than we did in the US. One person in my group brought an obo thinking that he might learn how to play it (he hasn't). Someone else I know learned a foreign language (not one spoken in Ghana). You may want to consider getting a hobby and bringing whatever gear it requires (note: model trains is a bad choice). As for me, I've started writing short stories. They're about relationships I develop with members of the new group of PC teachers. My stories always end the same: one day my new friends come to visit me and I kill them all in their sleep. Electronics: I made the mistake of not bringing my iPod. Don't be like me. It would be nice to have a cheap laptop to store pictures and write things like this in my house, but I don't have one. Bring a digital camera and a cell phone that works in Ghana if you can. The cheapest phones here (that work) are about $50. You may be able to buy something online that will work in Ghana for cheaper, and you won't have to spend your precious cedis on a phone. Also, $50 for a used phone in America gets you a far better phone than $50 for a "new" phone here. LED Headlamp: I've written before about this, so I won't repeat myself. Studies show that volunteers with an LED headlamp are 68% more likely to look silly while wearing a headlamp than volunteers without one. My non-stick pan: You can't bring MY non-stick pan because it's mine and it's already here. You can buy your own non-stick pan in many parts of Ghana, but I'm still glad I brought mine because it's probably of better quality. And, again, don't ask me for mine because it's mine. I think that's about all the advice I can offer about what to bring. Enjoy your last two weeks in America. Also, keep in mind that there's usually one person in each group that's doing exactly what you're doing now: moving out of an apartment, quitting a job, selling all worldly possessions, saying good-bye to friends and family, etc. Then this person lands in Ghana, realizes that a horrible, terrible mistake has been made, and is on the next flight back to the US. But I'm sure that won't happen to you… Addendum #1: I was kidding about the water. It's fine. (As long as you filter it…unless it comes from a river in which case you'll want to do more than just filter it. For example, pretend you're drinking apple cider. That way the brown color won't bother you as much.)

Ghana's got it! When I arrived in the country almost a year ago, Ghana claimed that it did not have it. However, all of the neighboring countries had reported it, so we assumed that Ghana had it but just wasn't telling anyone about it. But as of two weeks ago, it's official. Ghana has tested positive for bird flu. It has only been reported among the country's chickens. The disease is also only in one place, the city of Tema. It's one of the country's major ports and is about three hours from my town. Thousands of birds have been killed there for fear that they may have been exposed. In response to the announcement, Peace Corps handed down some sensible medical advice, such as: · "Wash your hands frequently with soap and water" · "Cover your nose and mouth when you cough and sneeze" · "Avoid contact with those who are sick" Preventing bird flu is that easy! Nothing to worry about! (Note: Several months ago Peace Corps distributed Tamiflu to all volunteers. My understanding is that this medication is effective against the disease, although there is evidence that the virus is becoming resistant. And if there's ever a pandemic there won't be enough of it to go around. But it's the best we got!) I recently heard a report on BBC about bird flu in Egypt. The reporter went to a village where someone had fallen ill from the disease. He described the place as full of "nothing more than small, dirty huts." A house he visited had a "roof made of a thin tin sheet that barely keeps out the rain." He described the children as "wearing dirty tattered clothing" and claimed that "animal droppings and rubbish are strewn about." (Note: I made up the quotes, but they were something like that.) All of the reporter's observations may be factually accurate, but he painted a picture of nothing but despair. His tone and word choice indicated that he was describing something that seemed new and shocking. But these conditions are normal for millions of people. That doesn't make them OK, but his descriptions were insulting and unnecessarily depressing. Perhaps listeners will infer that there is nothing but misery and desolation in this town. It would probably help if people who reported from developing countries were actually from those countries. Anyway, getting back to bird flu, the reporter then went to a nearby market where, in clear violations of WHO guidelines, live chickens were being sold. The reporter sounded as if he had uncovered a scandal. How could these people act with such disregard for international mandates!? After all, these regulations are for their own safety. These "violations" will undoubtedly continue and are happening right now in Ghana and elsewhere. There aren't enough resources to inspect, and people like the chicken seller in Egypt have too much at stake to care. Americans have been warned about avian flu for years. One day, we're told, it will be a pandemic. Maybe it will and maybe it won't. Or maybe it will all start in Ghana. But I'll be fine. I'm washing my hands with soap… Addendum #1: I am going to start a weekly radio show in New York. Each week it will be hosted by a different person from some part of rural Ghana . The host will visit someone's Manhattan apartment. He'll describe it. He'll talk about how tiny it is and how he has to walk up seven flights of stairs just to unlock the front door. He'll talk about the isolation of living in a little box in the sky compared to the openness of the village and what it's like to have your only window open up to a brick wall two feet away. Then, our host will have to guess the rent. Couldn't be more than a few dollars a month for this little room, he'll say. The apartment renter will then hand him one month's rent, all in $5 bills. Because it's radio we won't see his face as he counts the stack of cash, but in Ghana people can be very expressive. We'll hear his shock. We'll even feel it. Then the host will get to keep the money, and here's the best part, he'll stand there and laugh at the New Yorker who spends $2000 a month for a studio in whatever part of the city is currently most outrageously priced. Addendum #2: Note to female members of my family – no need to freak out. If Bird Flu ever spreads to people in Ghana, Peace Corps will freak out for you and take all sorts of unnecessary precautions. The odds of me getting bird flu in Ghana are just slightly higher than the odds of you getting bird flu in America. So if you don't worry about it for yourself, there's no need to worry about me.

I've described my house before, but I'll just repeat that it has a lot of rooms (about 15). You walk into the Sitting Room which leads into the Great Hall. The Great Hall is surrounded by doors to about ten rooms. The Great Hall also leads to My Special Outdoor Area, which is a small courtyard that also has doors to about six more rooms. When I first moved in I was told that the only residents of the house would be me and Kwame, a student of mine and nephew of the house owner. The other rooms would only be used in the case of a major event in the family that owned the house. In September, the girl moved in. Her name is Ama and she's a student and is related to the kindly old man who owns the house. At the time, this intrusion into my space was upsetting because she was living in one of the rooms off of My Special Outdoor Area. BuT I learned to get over it, largely by pretending that she didn't exist. Then in January two men who are doing construction work at the school moved in. They also stay in rooms off of My Special Outdoor Area, so now "my" house has four permanent residents (plus my cat), and My Special Outdoor Area is neither mine nor special anymore. More recently, guests have been arriving. At first, it would be a random relative. They generally stayed a night or two on the weekends and were mostly harmless. Some guests attract more attention. For example, a niece of the owner of my house is now visiting from the UK. She is a former resident of the town and she seems to have quite a following. From the time I wake up until past my bedtime various town residents come to greet her. This is mildly annoying, but tolerable. A couple of weekends ago, I was blindsided by the worst types of guests imaginable: people in town for a funeral. A reminder that Ghanaian funerals are a celebration of life, so these people were here to have a good time. And that means food, drinking, lots of noise, and no sense of responsibility (because who's responsible at a party??). A few bad things about guests in general: 1. They often call me "white man" or its local language equivalent. Even the most offensive person in New York would recognize that calling someone out by the color of their skin is absurd and unacceptable, but here it's considered normal. In my town I take the time to teach people my name, but I have learned to grit my teeth and deal with it (although not well) outside of my town. However, in my house, this is totally unacceptable behavior. 2. They use my water. I have gone weeks without running water, which means I rely on water that is fetched and dumped into my water barrel. Guests use this water, and then I either have to fetch more water or ask other people to fetch it for me. 3. They're noisy. This is a cultural thing. I would think that if you're a guest in someone's house you would try and refrain from screaming, particularly at night. But apparently this does not occur to many Ghanaians. This observation is based on repeated trials in multiple locations in Ghana, so I'm fairly confident about this generalization. I think it may be related to larger issues about public/private space and property. The notable exception is my current guest from the UK. She seems to get it, which further convinces me that this is a cultural thing. (Another cultural difference is views on the musical group Westlife. While I consider them the creation of record executives to cater to some teen/preteen demographic, a teacher at my school passionately explained to me that their vocal talents are unmatched.) 4. They steal my personal space. It would be nice to have a house of my own, as many Peace Corps Volunteers do, because it would be a place to retreat from Ghana and perhaps have some peace and quiet (plus I could walk around naked, if I wanted to). I have no peace and quiet in my house in general, and certainly not when there are guests around. On this particular weekend, I had about 25 (!!) guests in my house. To make matters even worse, they were not directly related to the house owner, so no one was able to tame them. They were loud, ate smelly food at odd hours, quickly consumed all of my water, and they called me white man. And at least one of them peed on the seat. At about 11:15 on Friday night, I decided I couldn't take it anymore, so I went for a walk in my town. No people are out at this hour, so it was just me, cats, and goats. I played in my computer lab for a while and headed home at about 1:30 AM determined to kill one of their small children in the hope that this would scare them into submission. Luckily, they had all gone to sleep, so I didn't have to put my plan into effect. The next night I ran away to a friend's house and by Sunday night they had mostly tired themselves out from two days of being noisy. My house has also hosted three weddings (although I was not around for two of them) and I'm sure that there are many more simchas to come. And if anyone ever asks me, "Hey, have you ever shared a house with thirty Ghanaians?" I can look them in the eye and say, "You know what…as a matter of fact I have." Addendum #1: Last weekend was the "world famous" Aboakyer Festival (pronounced A-bo-ah-chair) in the nearby coastal city of Winneba. I t commemorates the people's migration from the north down to their current home. Here's the tourist guidebook version of what happens: two teams dress up in traditional warrior garb. A deer (or antelope?) is released into the bush and the two teams go and chase it. A team wins by capturing the deer. There is much rejoicing. Here's what really happened: Only one team showed up because of longstanding disputes over land, money, etc. There were threats of violence but a large police presence kept things quiet. The animal was released and the single team, which mostly consists of children wearing secondhand clothing and white face paint, go after it. The children are loosely organized by similarly dressEd men in their 20s and 30s. The bush is open grassland with random patches of bushes. The team surrounds a bushy area and hacks away with big sticks (I spotted a golf club too) in an attempt to scare out the animal. Eventually, they surround the right bushy area and capture it. There is much drinking. And the president of Ghana showed up too. Overall, I would go next year because who doesn't like drinking at 9 AM, but I'm not going to plan my life around it.

I uploaded a few new pictures...see link to the right ---->

I'm quickly approaching the one-year milestone in Ghana. So it's time to reflect, American style, by looking back at the stuff I brought with me. Peace Corps gave us strict guidelines for how much we were allowed to pack. At the time, eighty pounds and bags whose height, length, and width measured no more than 100 or so inches (I don't remember the exact number) did not seem like a lot. After all, I was going to Ghana and I wasn't even sure if they had toilet paper there (I didn't bring any with me because if I brought any I would have had to bring enough for 2 years). As it turned out, I brought more than just about anyone else in my group of 32, and almost everything I brought is available in Ghana (and they do sell toilet paper here). This makes choosing my Most Valuable Item a bit tricky, especially given the following criteria from the MVI Committee (me and my cat, but he was pretty quiet at the meetings). Criteria for the annual and one-time-only Most Valuable Item Award are as follows:

1. Item must be something listed in my packing list in the first post on this site

2. Item must be difficult or impossible to buy in Ghana

3. Item must make life better/easier/enjoyable After the votes were counted, it ended up being a two-way tie. LED Headlamp: I use my headlamp (aka headlight) everyday. It would have been the clear winner except for the fact that I recently saw one for sale in Ghana, which was a big points deduction. It's useful for several reasons. First, the power goes out at least once every four nights in my house, as mandated by the government. Second, light in Ghana is generally weak, and my headlamp is strong-o (the 'o' at the end is for emphasis. It's a useful linguistic tool here). Even during the day it can be difficult to read indoors. Third, it's really handy when traveling. Fourth, it's got LEDs, and in college I built an LED-based system for detecting whether a baseball/softball pitch is a ball or a strike. That's not really related to the above criteria, but I am a bit sentimental about LEDs. Unfortunately, wearing a headlamp makes me look really silly. This used to bother me, but now I figure it doesn't really matter. I'm already white and that's silly enough here. Cotton Boxers from Old Navy: Although I have not gone underwear shopping in Ghana, I can infer that it would be difficult to find boxers of the quality I bought at Old Navy. First of all, most clothing here is either custom-made by a tailor or bought from one of the zillions of people who sell donated clothing from America/Europe. Custom-made underwear sounds absurd and used underwear sounds unappealing at best. Second of all, I live with one of my students and I have only seen him wash two pairs of boxer-like underwear. They're sort of like boxer briefs but not exactly. Third, the Peace Corps manual told me so. I won't go into why underwear is useful. It's mostly for the same reasons it's useful in America except there's a lot more sweat to absorb here. (Note: I have seen packages of briefs for sale in Accra, but briefs aren't boxers. Nonetheless, this led to a small deduction in the scoring). The LVI Award goes to my Least Valuable Item. The first two criteria are the same and the third criterion is that the item must be absolutely useless. Again, it's a two-way tie. Hiking Boots: Shortly before I left, I went to a camping store and bought a brand new pair of hiking boots. I explained to the outdoorsy looking guy in the shoe department that I was going to Ghana (I probably said 'Africa') for two years and I needed a lightweight (because of the heat) and waterproof shoe. He recommended something that cost on the order of one million cedis. I figured joining the Peace Corps seemed like the kind of activity that required a rugged shoe. Turns out, I was wrong. My $100 boots, which are probably more technologically advanced than most everything in my town, have sat idly under my bed. Luckily, I think my Mother paid for them, and I'm sure they'll be more useful for the snows of America when I return (does it still snow there? I've heard rumors it doesn't.). Solar-Powered Battery Charger: This is still theoretically a good idea, but it's been completely useless. I use electronic devices that require batteries (radio, headlamp, camera). Rechargeable batteries would save me money and would be better for the environment. And there are plenty of volunteers who don't have electricity in their towns. But I am not one of volunteers. A charger that plugs into the wall would have been a far better purchase. Well it's been a lovely MVI/LVI ceremony. You'll have to excuse me as I have an afterparty to attend now, which will mostly consist of me eating a tuna fish sandwich by myself, as long as the ants who call my house their home haven't eaten my bread… Addendum #1: Thank you to Sara Timen and my Father for finding computers for Ghana! Addendum #2: Welcome Adjowa Hadar Aviv Adler! That's the name of my new niece who was born on Monday, April 23. To most people (aka non-Jews), the Adjowa part probably sounds just as foreign as the Hadar Aviv part. But trust me, it's a very lovely name with or without the Adjowa part (which is the Ghanaian name given to girl born on Monday, although I think only in the southern half of the country). Addendum #3: Happy birthday Shalhevet! Addendum #4: A retro craze is sweeping my town! First it was the used clothing from America, than it was the Tigo taxis with 300,000 miles on them, and now here comes throwback construction! The road that runs in front of my house is being flattened but not paved. You may be picturing large machines moving dirt and whatnot, but no! So far, it's men with pickaxes and shovels and women hauling away dirt on their heads. The folks in charge here sure do hold on to their traditions… Adddendum #5: The danger in posting something on the Internet is that there is a possibility that someone may read it. Unfortunately, an unknown number of Peace Corps Volunteers in Ghana have stumbled upon this webpage. It's kind of embarrassing. Mostly I imagine that people in America not related to me who read this site are bored at work and looking for something to take their minds off of the office. I'm not sure why someone actually living in Ghana would want to waste precious moments on the Internet reading this site. But, if you are here, why don't you greet me? Leave a comment and let me know you were reading...

Although Peace Corps policy is to pay volunteers quarterly, budget wrangling in Washington has forced Peace Corps to pay us monthly. This means that we have to go to the bank at the beginning of each month. For me, this trip to the bank is a disaster as are most things I do at the bank. I bank with Ghana Commercial Bank (GBC), which has the most branches of any bank in Ghana, It operates at the typical slow pace of Ghanaian business, almost setting the tone for the rest of the country. With seemingly endless and repetitive paperwork, I opened my account in July. The bank gives all account holders a book of withdrawal slips, each printed with the accountholder's name and account number. This book is supposed to arrive a month or two after the account is opened, as is the ATM card I paid for. Needless to say, neither arrived after a month or two. After about six months of asking about my withdrawal book, the bank folks decided to check on the computer to see if the book had ever been ordered. I have to give credit here to a new bank employee who thought of doing this. Way to cut through the red tape. No, I was told, it had never been ordered, but now it should really arrive in a few more months. In the meantime, I would have to continue purchasing generic withdrawal slips for 3000 cedis per withdrawal. I pointed out the absurdity of this policy – clearly the bank had made a mistake by not ordering my book. In fact, the bank admitted that this was a mistake. Why should I have to pay 3000 cedis per withdrawal, essentially rewarding the bank for its own incompetence? Each slip costs 3000 cedis, I was told. Nothing is free in Ghana, but it's usually because no one can afford to give anything away. GBC could easily sacrifice the 3000 cedis, but there's a bureaucratic rigidity there, something that's common in Ghana, although I suppose it's probably almost universal in the world of banking. Sometimes it seems that everything in this country is either a free-for-all or dominated by lumbering and repetitive bureaucracy with little in between. The whole withdrawal slip problem could have been avoided if I had my ATM card. Last time I asked about it I was literally laughed at by two bank employees. But in fact, my card has arrived. Twice. The first time it arrived, several months late and printed with the name Jacob Ari, the local GBC had just installed an ATM. Unfortunately, I was issued an "old" card and this was a "new" machine. The two were incompatible, so I had to fill out some forms, return my card, and wait a few months for a new "new" card to arrive. When it did, it was somehow faulty. This happens, I was told. A certain percentage just don't work. This was nothing that a few more forms and months of waiting could not fix. (note: with everything, the bank mistakes how long something will actually take. I don't think they're lying. Rather, I think they either have no idea or like many people in this country, they simply have no sense of time.). It's normal for me to wait two hours to make a quick withdrawal (I refuse to pay off the security guards as another nearby volunteer does). There's the line outside and then the line inside which is done on couches. This means each time I move up in the line, I have to awkwardly and uncomfortably shuffle a butt-width down the couch. Because of the long line, I tend to nearly empty my account each month. Peace Corps living allowance is about 1.5 million cedis per month, or 150 ten thousand cedi bills, the second largest denomination (ever walk out of a bank with a pocket-wad of cash? Makes me feel like I robbed the place). Paying with twenty thousand cedi bills, the largest denomination, is often problematic, like buying a pack of gum with a $100 bill. People just don't have change. But many things are changing. My withdrawal book has finally arrived. Peace Corps living allowance is jumping by nearly 20% starting next month. This summer the currency is being "re-denominated," so I will not have to fill my pockets with cash. Maybe I'll even have a working ATM card. This is why Peace Corps is two years. Addendum #1: Imus was fired for saying something offensive? Isn't that his job?

I spent last weekend at a guesthouse in the hills of the Volta Region (eastern part of Ghana) called Mountain Paradise Lodge. There were a surprising number of American Jews there (generally more than just me is surprising). Apart from the Jews, the nice thing about Mountain Paradise Lodge is that it's isolated and it gets chilly at night. The change in temperature is really a novelty. Anytime that it's not hot enough to make me sweat I take notice. The compartmentalization of sweat is a phenomenon that I had never noticed before. For millions of people in the US, Canada, Europe, and elsewhere, sweat is a choice and not a way of life. For many months of the year, people can carry on with their daily routines without fear of sweat and can choose whether or not to engage in activities that will lead to sweat. Not so for me in Ghana. Everything makes me sweat and there is little respite. The worst is traveling. Mountain Paradise Lodge is a couple hundred miles away, so the journey home was sure to be sweaty. It began at about 10:20 in the morning when me, two Jews, and two non-Jewish NYU students (they have a campus in Accra) left Mountain Paradise Lodge. It's situated on the top of a mountain and unless you have a car the only way out is to walk down the mountain. The walk took more than an hour, which translates into more than an hour of continuous sweating. Once we made it to the bottom, we had to take a tro-tro (packed mini-van) to someplace to take another tro-tro to Accra. It goes without saying, but I'll say it, that tro-tros are not air-conditioned. Open windows and the movement of the vehicle can create a pleasant cross-breeze that makes the journey tolerable. But once the tro stops, either to pick up, drop off, or because of traffic, the vehicle heats up like an EZ Bake Oven. More sweat. The first tro wasn't terrible, and once we stepped out into the blazing sun (more sweat) we were lucky enough to soon get on a tro headed to Accra . When traveling in remote parts of the country, it's not unusual to wait hours for the right car. This tro was a bit roomier, but by now my clothing is already soaked with my drying sweat while new moisture accumulates on my body. And then we got a flat tire at around 2 PM or so, which means more standing in the sun while it's being repaired (and more sweating). This could have really been a disaster since we were in the middle of nowhere, but luckily this tro had a spare and the driver flagged down another tro to get a jack and whatever else he needed to change the tire. Less than 30 minutes later, we were moving again (and sweating slightly less). By 4 PM we were in Accra drinking lattes at an American-style shopping center. Then, two more tros (more sweat) to get to one of the city's larger tro stations where I said goodbye to my new friends and headed home. Recently I have made a lot of weekend friends. That is, people that I meet on a Friday and say goodbye to on a Sunday (or in this case Monday) and then never see ever again. Sometimes this process can last a bit longer – for example volunteers who are in the country for a few months that I may see half a dozen times. It is a good way to build a database of people from around the world, but also a bit unsettling. By 5 PM, I am sitting in the way back of the worst kind of tro. It's more like a bus than a minivan with eight rows of five across. And it's tight. Some people buy one ticket for two people and sit one on top of the other. I sat in the back right corner with my large bag on my lap, as if I'm trying to make the journey as uncomfortable as possible. The man next to me tries to make small talk using what little English he knows and me testing out my Twi. He seems harmless until about 10 minutes into the journey when he puts his arm around me and tries to lick my face. This behavior is as inappropriate in Ghana as it is in the US and I gave him an elbow to the chest and told him to stop. Other passengers noticed what was happening and the man next to me got the message. Unfortunately, we then got caught in some serious traffic. Luckily, the sun was going down so there wasn't too much sweating, although by this point I have been sweating all day and would have barely noticed. What should have been less than a two hour trip took almost three while I'm awkwardly ignoring the man seated next to me.

I got out of the tro sometime after 8 PM, or about ten hours after I left the Lodge. My last stop before home was the taxi station where I hoped to get a car going to my town. Ghanaians aren't big on waiting in lines, so when a taxi pulls up and the driver announces where he's going, a full contact sport breaks out as people struggle to get one of the precious seats. I tend to forget about this, so I missed the first car but got the second (although I did yell at a guy claiming that I was there first. He replied, "It's not about that."). It was just about 9:00 by the time I opened the door to my house. Eish seemed happy to see me, but I smelled like I had been sweating for about 11 consecutive hours (largely true). And I needed a bucket bath, which are apparently called sponge baths in America. My town has been having water issues recently, and there was no water in my house. Luckily, I had saved one bucket full and locked it away before I left. Electricity was working, so I was able to sleep relatively sweat-free with my fan… Addendum #1: Because of the lack of water, I went to fetch water yesterday from my local river. Unfortunately, river water is a bit dirty, sort of the color of apple juice (the "natural" kind). I put it through my water filter, but it still came out a bit dirty. The walk to the river is a few hundred yards, and it's uphill on the way back. Good thing I'm superstrong. Water is, in fact, not infinite.

Sydney, Australia shut off electricity at key sites today, such as the Opera House, to express concern over global climate change and encourage conversation. Here in Ghana, we are taking conservation to an extreme. Power is now off for one-quarter of the time and there's a chance that one day soon it will be off all the time. The electricity was supposed to improve this month when the rains were supposed to come and the country's oil/gas power plant generating capacity was supposed to be increased. Neither seems to have actually happened. The country gets 60% of its electricity from hydroelectric sources and 40% from oil/gas. The water level in the largest dam is very low, hence scheduled power-outs since August. Apart from the current crisis, Ghana's energy situation is a mess. There is not enough capacity, the authority is deep in the red, about one-third of the country still has no access, and the country's energy is being held hostage by rogue weather patterns in unstable parts of the atmosphere… Beware of Ghanaians with email addresses. I have long wondered why young Ghanaian males spend hours on sites like JewishFriendFinder.com and other singles' sites. Although I should not be looking at others' computers, I have read passionate emails written to European men about sex, marriage, and the joy of life together. I have seen a man using a translation website to turn his awkward English love letter into crisp German. I assumed it was all a bad joke. And then another Peace Corps volunteer let me in on the secret. The love letters, the suggestive images, and the longing for affection are all part of a scam! He saw a couple of guys celebrating outside of a local Western Union (yeah, we got those) because they were there to pick up money wired to them by some unsuspecting and gullible man who probably mistook them for a twenty-something, lonely beauty who just needs enough money to buy an airline ticket to go meet her Internet sugar-daddy. Addendum #1: Passover seder Monday night in Accra at the home of the same Israeli couple that hosted Megillah reading. The seder is a joint-venture with Chabad of the Democratic Republic of Congo. DRC has been one of the bloodiest places on the planet over the past ten years or so with an estimated four million people dead from a recently ended civil war. There was violence there again last week as supporters of the runner-up in the recent presidential election clashed with police (thank you BBC). And apparently there are enough Jews there that Chabad decided to dispatch some of its young soldiers.

This week I am one of two teachers on duty. As a teacher on duty, my responsibilities are broadly to be in charge of discipline in the school for the week. Practically, what it means is that I have to get to school at least two hours earlier than I normally do. So I'm very tired. The school day begins sometime before 6:30 when the students are supposed to report to clean the school. They sweep the classrooms and the campus and pick up litter. There are certain students, called prefects, who are there to organize and ensure that the work gets done. The masters on duty are there to supervise and enforce discipline, if necessary. Masters on duty also help with other disciplinary issues. For example, one teacher punished a class for misbehaving. The punishment was that they had to weed the school field, which is standard. So as the higher disciplinary authority in the school for the week, I had to accompany this teacher to the field as he assigned each student a particular plot of land to weed. I also have to walk around the campus after breaks and ensure that students are going back to class. According to the other master on duty who has also taught at other schools, behavior at this school is poor. The accepted response among faculty is to punish, usually with physical labor (weeding, cutting down a tree) or caning, both often preceded by threats of punishment, as in, "I will punish you!" Because discipline has not improved, I tell the teachers that it's obvious that these physical punishments are not working. But they don't seem to know anything else. Punish. Punish. Punish. The school generally lacks systems. In some ways it's a big free-for-all. Me and my western notions of accountability and order are somewhat foreign here, and have been greeted with comments like, "the African child only responds to the cane." This is also probably the first week that I'm really fed up with the school. Students are not showing up for class, and I'm starting to crack down. Enforcing discipline is no fun, and I've had too much of it this week. But I'm still thankful for the fact that I'm not sitting in some stuffy high-rise office working for some ineffective, overpaid, self-important boss.

Addendum #1: March Madness! Woooo!!! Go State! Addendum #2: Somehow, another term is over. Two weeks of exams and then it's official, but because my classes seem to rarely meet, I am only giving one exam for the year at the end of next term.

I am seeking a donation of at least twenty [used] computers for a secondary school in Ghana, West Africa. These computers will be used provide computer literacy training to students and faculty. The school's current working computers will be donated to either to a nearby school that does not have computers or to a new community center that will be used for students from several schools in the town. If you are interested, please ask your company/organization/university/etc if it is planning on replacing computers in the near future and what it intends to do with the old machines. Ideally, the school's goal of at least twenty computers can be reached with one or two suppliers, but if you can donate any machines please contact me. Please also forward this email to anyone you think may be able to help. I would also be happy to appeal directly to someone that You recommend.

BACKGROUND: I am a Peace Corps Volunteer, serving as a computer teacher in Ghana. The school currently owns 18 computers, 80% of which generally work. The computers were either purchased by the PTA or donated. Some are quite old and outdated. THE OPPORTUNITY: The government of Ghana and the African Development Bank (ADB) are currently funding a significant upgrading of the school campus, including the construction of a new computer center. A donation of upgraded computers would provide the school with a respectable computer lab. The donation will also benefit the community as the school administration has agreed to donate its current computers either to a nearby school that does not have any or to a new community center that will be used by students from several schools in the town. Plans for this new community center are still in the early stages, but a donation of computers will (hopefully) help speed the process. TAX DEDUCTION: The school can provide a letter confirming the donation. Other arrangements can be made upon request. CUSTOMS: I will work with Ghana's national education ministry to bypass customs fees. SHIPPING: Lacking any information on the size of the shipment, I can not get a price quote, but after consulting another volunteer I expect shipping to be between $30 and $40 per computer (assuming the source is the US East Coast, but shipments come to Ghana from all parts of the world). The cost of shipping will either be a separate donation or will be paid for by the school. Shipping is obviously a critical detail. It will be worked out if and when I receive a commitment for a donation. HELP NEEDED: If your business/organization/etc is able to donate computers, I will need a contact person that would be willing to spend some time on this project, potentially boxing the machines and working with the shippers. TECHNICAL REQUIREMENTS: Donated computers should be Pentium3 or above. Pre-installed software is not required but helpful. Monitors are not necessary, unless they are inexpensive to ship, such as LCD flat panel. Keyboards, mice, and power cables are very helpful. A digital projector would be fantastic. SUSTAINABILITY/COMMUNITY INVOLVEMENT: There is a school of thought that says giving handouts to developing countries is the wrong approach. While I believe this thinking has a lot of merit, I also think a donation of expensive equipment to an educational institution can be appropriate regardless of where that institution is located. In addition, the school has agreed to donate its current computers and will likely play some role in shipping. Plus, this donation is designed to take advantage of an investment being made by the national government of Ghana and the ADB. I'd be happy to continue this debate (currently with myself) in separate and private emails. CORRUPTION: Unfortunately, it exists in Ghana and much of the rest of the world, including (oh my gosh!) the US. I have asked the administration whether computers are included in the budget for the school renovation and have been given a vague answer that a) these budgets are "flexible," meaning money can be moved around for different purposes within the budget, and b) just because the money is "guaranteed" today does not mean it will be there tomorrow. If I get a commitment for a donation, I will have the leverage to get a straight answer from the administration and will work to ensure that if there is money in the budget for computers it is re-purposed for something that Benefits the school and does not line someone's pockets. I'll try. I ONLY HAVE ONE OR TWO COMPUTERS TO DONATE: Thank you, but at this point I think the logistics will be much simpler if I can get all of the computers from one or two sources. I ONLY HAVE ONE DIGITAL PROJECTOR TO DONATE: Great! We'll take it! I HAVE THIRTY COMPUTERS. IS THAT TOO MANY?: Thank you. We will take them and distribute them to other schools and community centers. I HAVE 25 MACS: Ha. Lucky you. Thank you, but we'll pass…

March 6 was the 50th anniversary of Ghana's independence from Britain. To celebrate, Ghana hosted 20 Africa heads of state and spent millions of dollars on celebrations. I was at the beach. However, I did leave the beach at 6 in the morning to make a short trip to Accra's Independence Square. This is the country's main celebration area, and it is where the heads of state were hanging out. As its name suggests, Independence Square is a large concrete square with bleachers along three sides of the perimeter. One side was reserved for VIPs. The other two were for the public. I arrived at 8 AM and the seats were already packed. This many Ghanaians have never been this early to anything. There was also limited space to stand in front of the bleachers but the crowd was suffocating. I've never been so sweaty, surrounded by so many horrid bodily odors, and pushed by so many different people. I was pushed into an elderly woman who was trying to maneuver through the crowd with a walker. I don't know what she was thinking. After about 30 or 40 minutes of this, I decided to find a way out. I considered telling security that I was with the US embassy so they would let me into the VIP area. I think it would have worked, but with 20 heads of state around, the repercussions of failure could be dire (Ghanaian prison?). So I retreated back to the beach. Ghanaians were big on ID6 flair. It seemed that everyone who could afford it was either wearing a Ghana@50 t-shirt, hat, or something. Special hideous fabric was produced, and women had all sorts of clothing made from it. I sported a Ghana@50 t-shirt and was quickly labeled the white guy celebrating Ghana's big day. Strangely, Ghana's only surviving ex-President did not attend (he's the only one left because he had the others killed, at least that's what I was told). Jerry Rawlings was President for 40% of the country's history but chose to sit this one out because he doesn't like the current President. Ghanaian politics is unfortunate… Scott Garrett's Resume Voted for: a) Constitutional amendment to ban same sex marriages b) Constitutional amendment prohibiting flag desecration. Voted against: a) The reauthorization of the Voting Rights Act b) Child safety locks on handguns Rated: a) 100% by the National Right to Life Committee (0% by NARAL) b) 100% by the American Conservative Union c) 10% by the League of Conservation Voters Quote: "Evolution is the predominant theory right now, but intelligent design is one that is apparently growing in some scientific communities, in academia. ... It seems that a school board should at least consider being TOLERANT AND OPEN (!!!!) to discussing both theories." [Bergen Record, 9/30/05; caps and !!!! added by me] What???????? All of this is relevant because I recently received a "Certificate of Special Congressional Recognition" from my Congressman, Scott Garrett. In his letter, NJ Congressman Garrett quoted a recent statement from President Bush about the Peace Corps. Anyone who's quoting that guy is A-OK with me. Thanks Scott! The certificate is just lovely! (you can do a Google search of "Certificate of Special Congressional Recognition" to see others.) I think I have only voted in Pennsylvania and New York, but my "permanent address" according to the Peace Corps is my parents' house. Unfortunately, this guy is their congressman. For whatever reason, he thought it appropriate to send this certificate to all PCVs in his district. Although there are exceptions, we tend not to be uber-conservative, so he's probably not impressing anyone with his free certificates. I would send it back to him with a note of explanation, but it would probably only be seen by a mail-opening intern. Addendum #1: I went to Megillah reading at the home of an Israeli family in Accra. They said that there are about 100 Israelis living in Accra doing the kinds of things that Jews do (finance, construction, etc). Less than 10 people came to megillah reading, and apparently this is the extent of the "traditional" Jews in Ghana.

Although rainy season is not supposed to begin until April, the random interactions of air molecules forgot to check the calendar. It has rained almost every day for the past week, and when it rains it pours. I blame global climate change. I thought the rain would be a good thing because it cools the place down. It had been way too hot and muggy. I'm often drenched in sweat (luckily my own) by the time I walk to school in the morning. So much moisture. Overall the rain is a good thing, but it has a wild and unexpected (at least by me) consequence: flying insects. There could be several things about my house that are particularly conducive to flying insect breeding, but my own speculations about insect mating habits are unimportant and probably wrong. Here's what I know: the exterior of my house is covered in insects at night. I don't mean literally covered. I mean that it is impossible to go outside of my house at night without flattening a few bugs with each step. I mean that when I go outside at night I am attacked from all sides and angles. I mean that an hour later I am still finding bugs in my hair. Tonight I killed about 15 grasshoppers (or are they crickets?) in my house in 2 minutes. Really. At least they're easy to kill and at least only two made it inside my room. It's plague-like. In addition to the mutant grasshopping crickets, I also have flying ants. That's probably not the proper scientific classification, but that's exactly what they look like. The upside of all this is that Eish is very busy. I don't know if he "likes" chasing bugs (he probably doesn't really like anything), but I enjoy watching him chase stuff. It's only been two nights of this, but if it continues to be this bad, I may have to get the outside of my house sprayed with something horribly poisonous… Addendum #1: Solar powered Germans are still here. It was a two week conference for teachers who have no ability to purchase any of the solar powered lamps nor do they have any purchasing decision making powers. Brilliant. Addendum #2: Ghana Central Region Zone II Inter-Senior Secondary School Athletics competitions were held last week. It was a two-day event, so no classes for those days. Eleven schools competed and my school finished seventh overall. There is one school in the zone that actually recruits athletes. They offer scholarships to particularly fast junior secondary students. They dominate this local competition. Winners then go to a regional competition and presumably that leads to some national championship. Other schools in the area are considering recruiting. Addendum #3: Because of strong wind, a power line going from the grid to my town fell. It took about 2 days to fix. For whatever reason, the power has randomly gone off over the past few days. There are still scheduled 12-hour outages every five days. Addendum #4: After a month-long absence, running water is finally back in my house. Addendum #5: Megillah reading on Saturday night at the home of an Israeli couple in Accra. I'm dressing up as a white person.

March 6, 2007 marks the 50th anniversary of Ghana's Independence. Europeans first arrived here in the 1400s, and they liked it so much that they stayed in control until the British ceded power on March 6, 1957 . Ghana was the first country in sub-Saharan Africa to be granted independence by its colonial master (only two sub-Saharan countries never had colonists in control). Some people, particularly people in Ghana, therefore consider March 6, 2007 to be the 50th anniversary of Africa. After leading Ghana to independence, the country's first president, Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, quickly moved to socialism and then outlawed all opposition political parties, occasionally with violent repercussions. He is defended by some who say that these measures were taken to combat violence and were necessary to maintain order. Regardless, Nkrumah lost power in 1966. He was deposed with the help of the CIA because of his socialism and his status as a leading African figure. Really ( http://www.seeingblack.com/x060702/nkrumah.shtml). Ghana then had a couple decades of instability coupled with terrible poverty. Around 1980, Jerry Rawlings seized control and maintained power until 2000 when the current president, John A. Kuffuor won an election. Depending on how you count, Ghana had nine or ten heads of state in 50 years. But with Rawlings in control for 20 and Kuffuor for seven, so that's seven or eight in 23 years, or a new leader about every 3 years. There were coups, authoritarianism and other things that are not helpful to a country's development. Nonetheless, despite all of that as well as the numerous other challenges and thanks entirely to me (that's a joke), Ghana seems to be moving forward in many ways and is now finally seen as a model African democracy. According to the Ghanaian press, Ghana is spending $20 million on its celebrations and associated construction and cleanup. That's 200 billion cedis, which is a ton of money here. If there is any coverage at all of this in the American press, please send me it my way. Addendum #1: President Kuffuor was just elected head of the African Union. He will serve a one-year term. Addendum #2: What a game! Super Bowl XLI! Wow! My town was really excited for that one. Oh wait, no one cares about the Super Bowl here and I did not travel to Accra to watch it. Even though the NFL can probably include Ghana in its list of 200 countries or whatever the real number is that receive the broadcast (it's on satellite, which no one gets), no one watches it. In fact, the only foreign sport that seems to get any play is European football. Ghana's best player is on Chelsea, one of the top British teams. Besides, everyone here is seriously gearing up for the Oscars.