This body of work is currently part of Relationships: Spheres of Influence on exhibit Jan 10 -May 6, 2012 at Brunnier Art Museum, Iowa State University, Ames, IAOpening Reception, Thursday, January 19, 4:30-6:00 pm Special presentation by Chris will be Tuesday, February 28 at 7:00 pm

You're invited to come visit us and see the show in person!

The final few hours of our journey home took place on August 16th. Over two years ago we made our exit within a kicked-up dust cloud of activity; completing a bathroom remodel, sorting and donating mountains of stuff, insurance, finances, powers of attorney, checking i’s for dots and t’s for crosses, then finally passing off the keys, and praying we had remembered to pack the necessities.

Although it all worked out well, after having left in a bit of chaos, we were a little unsure of what we would find upon our arrival back. Would our house be a mess? Would it still be standing?! The scheduled week of our return Ames had been making the national news. The on-line photos of campus showed Iowa State Center in the middle of what appeared to be a beautiful reflection pool. Unfortunately this “lake” was where landscaping, parking lots, and lower levels of buildings were supposed to be. While trying to ignore all this news, we had also heard how the flooding broke water mains resulting in the need to have water trucked in and/or treated. Not that treating water would be unusual for us. But we were really hoping to have the luxury of clean running water once we got home.

Happily, the evening we pulled into our driveway, we found our house to be not only standing and dry but well cared for as well. In fact we found our neighbor friend inside flushing the pipes since the boil order had been cancelled. Thanks to our fabulous leasers and wonderful neighbors who all obviously watched over things for us and took care of whatever needed to be done (without so much as a peep!) it seemed almost as if we had never left. The path had been laid that would make it easy for us to just settle back in.

They say that readjustment to life back home is the toughest part of the Peace Corps experience. So it might have made sense for us to unpack our bags and try to relax for the very few days remaining before Chris had to report back to work. Instead, the very next day (despite the fact that everything had been so well taken care of) we began ripping up carpet, repainting walls, and remodeling again! I guess not everyone handles the readjustment process in the same way.

As of today progress has been made on the home improvement projects but we still haven’t gotten our things unpacked, not even the bags we carried home with us! Chris is back at work and we’re both staying busy and we’re catching up with friends and generally life is good. Actually it’s marvelous! When I turn on the tap the water runs (cold AND hot)! When people speak I can understand what they’re saying. Business offices are so very efficient. It’s easy (and painless) to get around. Most tasks can be accomplished – and - in less than a day. Tasty recognizable food is everywhere (gain winter layer of fat—check). And it’s hard to believe I never realized until now that the Hy-Vee grocery store is one of the most beautiful places in the world!

So anyway, if you’re still reading this blog you have obviously noticed that I’m still writing it. And I think I will continue to do so for a while. One reason being that if readjustment is one of the hardest parts of the Peace Corps experience, (whether or not that holds true for me personally); I feel I should cover it. But as I mentioned before, I want to go back and record or finish writing about some compelling stories and interesting subjects that I didn’t get posted during service, even if only for selfish reasons. And the time to do it is now before I get too caught up in and distracted by American life and while I still have a fighting chance at capturing the moments which are still somewhat fresh in my mind.

In the mean time Chris and I will be playing the role of RPCV and taking part in several presentations including the one announced above.

Ahhh…it’s good to be home again!

Ok, so it’s been a while since our last blog entry. Yes, too long. The past several weeks have been a flurry of activity. In fact I am still caught up in the whirlwind. But I’ll do my best to summarize parts of it now.
I am writing this as I sit on U.S. soil! Actually I’m not sitting directly on the dirt. Instead, I’m in the luxurious comforts of my sister’s home in Wisconsin; a stopping point on the final leg of our journey home. We touched down a few days ago and are now happily adjusting to life in America.



Our enthusiastic welcoming committee

But I need to back up---Back to Ghana---and tell you about those projects we were working to complete. Since many of you were players in the school library project, let me jump into that one first.

School Library:

You all were so supportive that we quickly received the necessary funding. The actual work was slow going at first, but quickly picked up steam once the contractors had done their part.



The project begins…



The pace picks up…

Much more than just wall paint, Chris led the visual arts students in creating World and Ghana map murals…



Bringing in the books (so eager to have a library, the kids were reading as they carried them in)…



And finally the greatly anticipated library is reborn!!

On behalf of everyone at DASHS, thank you for your support!

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STARS:

Friends and family of Peace Corps volunteers from across the U.S. contributed so that kids from every region in Ghana could attend this year’s student leadership conference. Chris and I were able to take four student participants, two junior group leaders (top students from last year’s attendees), and my faculty counterpart. It was another fantastic event for everyone. In fact our young return leaders said it was even better than last year! Best of all, our kids have already begun to follow up with peer education sessions on topics ranging from goal setting to HIV/AIDS education.



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Invest in Our Future Scholarships:

The Invest in Our Future scholarship kids are well on their way to completing their senior high school education. The funds (which will see most students through another full academic year) have been distributed, and the students along with their families are strategizing as to how they can fill any remaining gaps. One student has even started his own micro-enterprise rearing rabbits to raise money for his future education. Two of my friends/colleagues, Gifty and Elorm, will faithfully oversee this project until these kids finish their schooling at DASHS. I am looking forward to receiving their and sharing their progress reports.



Knowing the kids are in good hands made saying “goodbye” just a little bit easier



Art Show:

There simply was not enough time in the shortened academic calendar for the art show to come off this year, but the plans and proposal are in place for next year.

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Water Sachet Project:

By leading a project that turns trash into income for the school (see “Made in Ghana” blog entry from March), Chris was able to enhance the visual arts program at DASHS and jump-start construction of a new canteen that will serve the entire school. When we left, there were outstanding requests by people who wanted to purchase more products, so it is clear that the project has great potential. There was also a lot of talk and enthusiasm among the faculty and students for the continuation of the project. But initiative and leadership were sorely lagging and we left feeling very uncertain about the project’s future. Now just this week we received word that 200 pieces were produced and delivered. So hope prevails.

There are many topics that we have not yet covered and I still hope to add those things here on this blog retrospectively. Our lives as Peace Corps Volunteers may have officially come to a close. But that doesn’t mean our service is over. In fact a new and exciting chapter as RPCV’s (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer’s) has only just begun!

Several of you have asked me if the people here are into the World Cup. The answer is a yeah--in a big way! For the past two weeks there has been little talk of much else. Our school has changed is schedule (starting classes at 6 am) so that students and teachers can be done in time to see the matches. The newspapers and radio talk of nothing else. Interviewers are constantly asking government officials how they feel now that the hopes of all Africans are now resting on Ghana. Might this all be a bit dysfunctional? Perhaps!

Lets back up for those of you who are not following the “action”; the World Cup is the championship tournament for international football (soccer) and is held every four years in a different country, similar to the Olympics. This year it happens to be in South Africa, its first time on African soil. It started with 32 teams and is now down to 16. Six of them were from Africa; South Africa, Cameroon, Cote D’ Ivoire, Algeria, Nigeria, and of course Ghana. All of the African teams were eliminated in a disappointing first round – all except for Ghana. And so Ghana pretty much represents the entire continent now. If only I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard “All Africa’s hopes now lie with Ghana.”



Every visible television (including this one at the shop next to our favorite spot) draws a crowd

So as chance would have it, the Ghana Black Stars are set to play the U.S. The big match will be at 18:30 GMT and to say Ghanaians are frothing at the mouth would not be an over statement. Let’s discuss how we got to where they are now, and before I get going forgive me, for I am a bit jaded and have experienced too much here not to react.

During the first World Cup round each team plays 3 games in their assigned group and you either win lose or draw getting 3 points for a win, 1 for a draw, and 0 for a loss. In the end the two teams with the highest point counts in each group advance. The Black Stars grouping included Serbia, Germany and Australia. They won their first match against Serbia, the first win (and if I’m not mistaken the only win for an African team), then played to a draw with a weaker Australia, setting them up to play Germany in their last match of the first round. On the final day of round 1, Serbia played Australia while the Black Stars played Germany. In order to advance to the final 16, Ghana had to either win or draw against Germany…that is, if Serbia won their match as expected. Well Serbia did not win. By a miracle of all miracles Serbia lost to the weak Australian team, saving Ghana’s butt.

Tammi and I along with another friend watched this event unfold in Ho, and upon hearing of Serbia’s loss, (the games were being played simultaneously) mayhem ensued. There were impromptu street parades, yes lots and lots of vovozellas (obnoxious horn distings) being blown, yelling, cheering and car horns blearing well into the night. Now I do not have a problem with celebrating a win, but… they didn’t win! They played a lackluster game and lost 1 to nothing. I think the thing that really set me off was at the end of if it when the Ghana players (again-after losing the match) tore their shirts off and ran around the field waving the Ghana flag. Did I mention that Ghana LOST THE GAME?! Yet they were acting as if they had won the entire championship when they had only lucked out enough to advance.

So you’re wondering what my take on it is? Sadly I find that this is a perfect metaphor; yet again an African country is bailed out by someone else and they take what they can get with little or no modesty or pride. Ghana was perfectly capable of winning their match. They are a good team with great potential. They had many opportunities where they could have risen to the occasion and scored a goal, earning their place in the tournament. But apparently they preferred to sit back, keep an ear on the other match that was taking place, and let somebody else put them into a position to play on. Typical…

I was angry and still am. I am sorry I am venting this on you but you know sometimes I feel things need to be said that ain’t so nice. If Australia had not had a big surprise win, Ghana would have been sent home. The team and its fans cared little of the fact that they failed to win. What would we have done in the U.S. if this had happened? (By the way, the U.S. earned their presence in the second round with 2 wins and a draw). How I see it is we would have shook hands with our fellow competitors, retired to the locker room, wiped our brow, breathed a sigh of relief, and counted or blessings. But not here, instead there is the typical air of entitlement.

One of these fans is not like the others...Where's Chris?

I did the sermon at our school’s church service last Sunday (believe it or not) and one of the main points I spoke on was anything worth having is worth working for. And I think my message may have even got through to a few. Then this event comes along and my message is flipped on its backside by Ghana’s greatest idols. It drives me crazy! Solutions? It’s not simple. The way I see it is that this is a culture that is ruled by entitlements. People here seem to strive to greater positions so that they can enjoy greater entitlements but without putting in the work. The government throws out benefits to the various heads such as new cars, TVs, even air conditioners, seemingly to pacify them. I have shared my frustrations about leadership here many times because it seems that those in positions of power reap all the benefits but seem not to know how to or do not want to do what it takes to be real leaders. It needs to start somewhere. And it might get started if we stop simply handing people things and instead encourage them truly earn it. Stop the aid and make them trade. This country is chuck full of resources and manpower but as long as they keep getting handouts there is little or no incentive to utilize either.

There are several other discussion points I could include here such as why African teams have not fared well even though they have some of the best players in the world. There is also the point of “All the hopes of Africa are upon the Black Stars” or the one that really gets me, “God is on the side of the Black Stars.” But these would just force me to rant of even longer and trust me you wouldn’t want that.

So I’ll finish by saying that while I hope the U.S. team does well, in the end I honestly hope for the best team to win. I would actually love to see the Ghana play well as a team, play with passion, and earn a victory over the U.S. Then during the post game interviews I would want to see Black Stars team members talk about how great it feels to have accomplished something that they have worked so hard together to achieve. This would indeed be a small way in which the Black Stars could genuinely help their fellow Africans.

Today marks a huge milestone for me. As I write this evening I celebrate the anniversary of our second year in Ghana. Two whole years! This is the goal I have been striving to reach and I made it! We arrived in Ghana on 10 June 2008. And a lot has happened since. And maybe nothing at all has happened. I have mentioned before that this experience has been like swinging on a pendulum – up one minute and down the next. Maybe the bright side is that I can now empathize with people having bipolar disorder. Two years on this ride and I’m ready to get off it. Or not… Or something.

Ok, so I’ve been a little moody lately. It kind of reminds me of the time back in high school as graduation was approaching. I started having dreams – dreams of frustration, dreams of the future, dreams of sorrow for what would be left behind, a mixed bag. I remember sometimes crying in my sleep- as if I had some emotions that I was unable to place, unable to vent, unable to understand. So instead of dealing with it in my waking hours the tears came in dreams like a volcano puffing smoke. You know there is something going on under the surface but you’re not sure what it is.

The situation is kind of similar to what I am going through now. I am so excited to see the finish line right there in front of me, but what happens when I cross it? I guess now is the time when a person should do some reflecting. So I’m sorry if this blog entry seems disjointed but so are my thoughts. I’ll take this opportunity just to look back at today’s activities. I was just saying to Chris that in many ways today is a reflection of our entire time here in Ghana.

This morning I awoke from a fabulous night’s sleep. I took a Benadryl last evening and that combined with the cool night air and a breeze from our ceiling fan (yeah electricity!) was almost heavenly. It was better than a few mornings ago. Earlier this week Chris and I had returned home after being away for 8 days. Travel in Ghana is grueling and after a weeklong conference with students and bunking in a room full of PCV’s Chris and I were ready to sleep in and have a little quality time to ourselves. But it was not to be. At 6:07 a.m. a visitor came to our front door (which is exactly adjacent to our bedroom window). And the visitor was persistent. So I had to get up, get dressed, answer the door, and establish there was no emergency before simply dismissing the student and requesting that she come back at a more reasonable hour. It was a bit of a buzz crusher, but the funny thing is that it’s not unusual in Ghana to show up at someone’s door before 6:30. There are some things I will miss about living here. Others I will not. But I digress…

I stretched my way out of bed this morning, had a lovely cup of coffee, but then swung into a bit of a funk. Apparently I hadn’t shaken my mood from yesterday. Yesterday I was tired--so very tired. I was tired of the heat and tired of the humidity. Tired of being mocked, tired of being laughed at, tired of still being the Obruni freak show even after two years of living and working here. I was questioning the whole thing. Has it all been pointless, has it been a waste of time, have I only served as an object of peculiarity and a resource to tap, steal from, and/or suck dry?!

I told myself to shake it off. Today was laundry day (remember there is only hand wash here) and I was actually looking forward to it. It’s something that I can do quietly, on my own without too many spectators or critics, and actually achieve some small feeling of accomplishment. By the time the clothes were hung to dry I was feeling a little better.

Then I went to teach my mid-morning class. I was thinking this would be easy since it is my one and only small class. But when I arrived at the classroom there were no students at all. So since being on time here constitutes being early, I decided I’d kill a little time and do a fly-by of the computer lab and the teacher’s lounge.

In the computer lab, my counterpart commented that some students were abusing their ICT privileges and purposely screwing up the computers that we have been working so hard to maintain. I trudged out of there thinking “Ungrateful ignorant F*^#ing students! Don’t they know they are lucky to even have computers? I don’t know why they bother coming to school at all. They should stop wasting our time”. I didn’t fare much better at the teacher’s lounge. Another colleague (one of the few teachers who really cares) commented on how things went for him last week as Master on Duty. Basically he said he would be happy to get a transfer to well…anywhere else! As long as the students showed some respect & followed at least some of the rules, and school administrators at least pretended to care about the school and showed a little leadership now and then. Hmm…I can’t disagree with that. Twenty minutes later I decided it was time to return to the classroom… it was still empty. I didn’t feel like talking to the blackboard or to myself, so I tossed the students’ graded homework assignments on a vacant desk and went home.

Escaping this world by hiding inside the house and tucking my nose in a schlocky novel for the rest of the day seemed to be my best bet, but Chris’s pendulum was on a different swing cycle and he convinced me to join him on a trip to town. Thursday is market day and we had supplies to purchase for the school library project, a pantry to re-stock, some people to see, and a few other errands to run. So I agreed to go along and promised not to be too much of a lead weight.

Today was another hot and stupid humid one. So I was NOT looking forward to the walk into town. Luckily, one of the three school vehicles is currently operational (the other two are broken down somewhere) and since we had some heavy items to purchase for the school we were entitled to a ride. As we were waiting for the truck, the Bursar called to me and said he had my reimbursement for the computer parts I purchased. Wow! I figured I’d have to kiss that 100 Cedis goodbye. So things were really starting to look up!

At the market, part way through our shopping I felt we were making some progress and was pulling out of my protective shell when we crossed paths with my real life hero Rev Anaba. It’s always so good to see him. But today he had some sad news to share. One of the children at the orphanage had died. Just prior to her 1st birthday little Ama became very ill and did not recover.

Everyone in our area had been getting increasingly worried that this season’s lack of rain was going to be devastating. Afram Plains is comprised mainly of subsistence farmers - people who are already marginalized. But less than 2 weeks ago, thank God, the rains finally returned. With the rain, however, comes an increase in the mosquito population and with that an increase in cases of malaria. If we understand it correctly, Ama’s respiratory pneumonia was brought on by a case of malaria. And despite the loving care she received at the home and in the hospital, she lost the battle and was laid to rest just yesterday.

When we mentioned to Rev Anaba that we were on our way to the hospital to visit a friend, he informed us that another one the Spartanburg children was there being treated for malaria. We could sense his compassion, frustration, and worry. The home takes all the available precautions, like having the kids sleep under the prescribed bed nets. But kids are kids. They are active. They are active in the morning and they are active in the evening and those are times when malaria carrying mosquitoes are also active. (And it’s not just kids. Malaria is the most common illness in both children and adults who are treated at our local hospital). At 8 ½ years, Yao is one of the ‘senior’ residents at the orphanage. He is also one of the very brightest, most engaging 8 year olds I have ever met.

Hospitals here do not provide things like soap, t-roll, or even food. Patients depend on their friends and family for those things. So we added a few juice boxes for Yao to our purchases and set off to visit the hospital. We could recognize the children’s’ ward because the sidewalks were filled with concerned mothers including two house moms from the orphanage. They were outside sitting with Yao and called to us when they saw us coming. Yao certainly was not his charismatic self, but thankfully he seemed to be on the mend. He was working on a plate of food that the mothers had brought him. And despite the fact that Chris tried to steal said plate of food from this poor sick orphan child (be sure to tease him about that), we detected a little smile when I mentioned we would play football the next time we see him.

Our other visit was to the men’s ward to see Chris’s counterpart. Mr. ABC has been in the hospital for several days for treatment of what was finally diagnosed as pneumonia. Chris visited a couple of days ago. But this was my first time to visit patients at the hospital. At first I found the conditions to be sadly dizzying. This was not like your typical 2 bed patient rooms divided by a curtain with a private bath and TV all surrounded by modern medical equipment. No, this was a small single room with eight beds (including some temporary cots) with a urinal off to one side, no privacy, and standing room only for visitors. Our friend occupied the first bed. He seemed to be a bit week but based on his frequent wise-cracks we could tell that he was on his way to recovery.

We visited with ABC for a while and since there was no way to even fake privacy, we soon had the guy in the next bed engaged in our conversation and laughing along with us. It was then that I really started to adjust to this foreign hospital environment. Upon closer inspection I could see that the surroundings were actually kept pretty clean and although dated, the equipment and supplies were probably adequate. Then I realized that there really was something different about this place - a feeling of camaraderie.

On his prior visit, Chris had learned to go around to each bed in order to greet each and every patient in the room. If one person gets a visitor, then everybody has a visitor. We greeted the middle-aged man on an oxygen tank as he labored for breath. Then we greeted an elder who seemed ill but relaxed and content. On another bed, partially curled up, laid an emaciated version of a young man. His eyes showed gratitude for our greetings and simple words of encouragement, and contained a spark that will likely be there until his life light is prematurely extinguished- presumably by AIDS. Some locals believe there is magic in the touch of white people. They think that it will bring good fortune or good luck. Of course I don’t believe that myself, but if a few words and a handshake or a touch on the shoulder helps to provide a small amount of hope, Chris and I are not about to deny such an indescribably simple gesture.

After making our rounds, we returned to ABC to ask our leave. It turned out that the neighbor man is the father of one of our students. He was proudly talking about his daughter just before she arrived to visit. Although his daughter looked terrified to be there (it doesn’t take too many years of experience to know that death is all too close to life in this particular part of the world) I could feel the father’s positive attitude radiating throughout the room. Based on his outlook I know he is going to get well and maybe even pull some of his comrades toward wellness with him.

After all the shopping and visiting in town was done, Chris and I rewarded ourselves by going to Ross’s spot (bar) for a nice cold beer. Then we headed for home where I was looking forward to a refreshing shower and a bite of supper. A small boy who Chris and I refer to as our ‘artist in residence’ was here working on his latest carving. He hangs out at our place for hours nearly every day, picking up pointers and techniques from Chris along the way. Then a few minutes after stepping in the door, another one of my students arrived on our doorstep.

Grace is one of the Invest in our Future scholarships students that is benefitting from contributions from you, our friends and family. She had come for her progress meeting with me. This is the time when I meet individually with each of the scholarship kids to check up on them personally, see what their challenges are, advise them on academic or personal matters and praise them on areas of progress. In the beginning the kids were reluctant to come. Now they seem eager and somewhat possessive of their privileged time for these meetings. I also felt a little awkward in the beginning. Now it’s the highlight of all my Peace Corps experiences. It has been so very special to connect with these kids, to see them struggle and then see them achieve things they doubted were possible. When they get excited I get excited. When they glow with pride, I beam!

Once our company departed, Chris and I finally sat down to a nice bowl of guacamole and plantain chips. Chris looked over at me and said “You know we have made more of an impact here than we are aware of and we have affected a hell of a lot more lives than we’ll know.” Yeah, he’s probably right. I certainly hope so.

It has been two freaking years, (48 months/730 days). Just this morning I wanted throw up my hands, run home to America, eat cheeseburgers and grow fat & happy. It might have been easier for me to do that when I was mentally cursing my students and generally pissed off at the entire Ghanaian population.

This evening I’m racking my brain as to how I can possibly secure that the world will been saved in the little time I have left here. Now I’m sad and worried thinking, Who will take care of “my” kids? Who will stick up for Kwame? Who will worry about Rosemary passing her Math exam? Will my friends keep in touch? Will the little breakthroughs I made remain after I’m gone? And what of my friends back home? Their lives have been as active as mine. How will they react to my being present again?

I realize that even as I prepare to go home, I am still learning, still adjusting, still swinging on that pendulum. Stupid pendulum! And the ride is almost over – like it or not.

We took a few nice pictures on our visits to a neighboring village. It’s about 18 km away from Donkorkrom, 15 km from the nearest pavement, and 10 minutes down a dirt walking path. The photos look better as full size images, but you’ll get the idea. If Africa is half a world away from the U.S., Ghana a whole different world than Iowa, and Afram Plains a land all its own, then this Fulani village is like its own world within a world, within a world…
With no Twi or English speakers among them even conversation as simple as yes & no was impossible. But there was enough communication to learn that the Fulani are a proud, determined, and beautiful people. In their traditional role as cattle herders, they are also our sole source of a fresh cheese called wangashee! Think fresh mozzarella. Really wished we had discovered them much sooner!

After nearly 2 weeks of air conditioning, catered food, and swimming pools, Chris and I have returned to site. We have been away at a Peace Corps all-Ghana-volunteer conference which was immediately followed by our education sector Close of Service (COS) conference. It was a nice respite except for the fact that we’ve been reminded of all of the work we have left to do with such little time remaining.

Shortly after returning, we learned there would be a funeral in town. We could tell because a truck load of revelers dressed in black and red clothing came tooling down the road whooping and hollering (much like you would see before a college football game). After nearly 2 years, many things have started to feel routine in our lives here in Ghana. So sometimes when I see, hear, or experience certain things, I try to think back to how I would have viewed them when I first arrived. I remind myself of these feelings in order to maintain an appropriate perspective for when I return to the U.S, to remind myself how special my experience here is, and to cue me in on what to put in this blog. In the process, I am sometimes also reminded of just how far away from home we actually are.



Men in traditional funeral dress

In Ghana, it is fashionable for funerals to last about 4 days. For Chiefs and dignitaries they may last a week or much longer! One could write an entire book about funerals in Ghana (in fact I think some have already been written) but in a nutshell, they go something like this: On Thursday, canopies are erected, plastic chairs placed in rows, the biggest sound systems in town are hooked up, and visitors travel from far & wide to the specified town or village. On Friday, the body is displayed, music is blasted, there is gospel karaoke, drumming, dancing, and drinking. On Saturday, there is usually a morning service while the body lies in state, followed by more of the Friday activities. And on Sunday there is a final service (and also the burial if it did not take place on Saturday). I have broken these activities down by day, but in actuality the music typically goes on continuously throughout the night and one day runs into the next. Collections are taken throughout. Close friends or family members staff the donation table and write receipts for each amount given. Depending on the level of donation, you might receive a memorial t-shirt, a full-color funeral brochure, or for more modest donations you might receive a handkerchief with a picture of the deceased, or some type of trinket (i.e. yesterday, we saw that people were sporting a cord of red & white yarn with a black plastic ball attached).

Scenes from a chief's funeral

On our way to buy eggs yesterday, we noticed at least 20 people dressed in their specially made funeral garb hanging around the police station. It seemed a bit odd but we greeted one another and passed on our way as usual. We later learned that this weekend’s funeral turned into a brawl, and that those people hanging around at the station were there because they had been arrested. We’re not sure what the main cause was, but the formula for the fight included the local brew, a lack of license or purchased permit to hold the event, and a village/family feud.

When we inquired further with friends and neighbors, we learned that the funeral was for a young man of 25 years. He was a student at DASHS before Chris and I arrived and had been working at the district hospital in town. Why he died is a bit of a mystery. The victim’s sister died only 6 months ago apparently under similar circumstances. It seems that each of the siblings simply fell ill and never recovered. We were told that this young man ironically did not seek treatment at the hospital where he worked, but instead went to a prayer camp. When we probed as to the reason why an educated man would shun conventional medicine for prayer alone (wouldn’t both be a good idea?) we were told that some months ago there was a quarrel between the children’s mother and their grandmother. After said falling out, the grandmother cursed her daughter claiming that her children would be taken from her one at a time as punishment. The grandmother, we were told, is a witch. Until yesterday I had never heard of the wicked witch of Afram Plains.

God willing, Chris and I will be back in the States in precisely 90 days. And while parting from Ghana will bring such sweet sorrow, I sometimes find myself tapping my heels and thinking: There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.

Why would a middle-aged woman drop everything and leave behind her friends and family, the comforts of her home, and a great job? Mid-life crisis? I don’t really think so since the idea of joining Peace Corps had been brewing since my childhood school days. I think committing to the 2+ years of volunteer service is better described as a leap of faith, a calling to which I finally decided to respond. So it shouldn’t come as too much surprise that in celebration of the Easter holiday I found it most suitable to jump off a cliff – literally! The dream of soaring like a bird has also been in my mind since childhood, so why not try that as well?! Chris (who shares my same ‘sensibilities’) agreed that was a great idea. So off we went to the top of Kwahu Ridge to go paragliding.

After some typical developing country travel trials and tribulations, Chris and I still managed to be among the first few dozen people to arrive at the jump site. We paid the fee, put some basic information on a single sheet of paper (no release form required) and then we waited to be called. This year the event was sponsored by the Ghana Tourism Board, which added a lot of pomp and circumstance but left much to be desired in the realm of logistics and organization. So we had to keep waiting and checking and waiting some more. Each time Chris or I checked our status, we were told “you will go today”. And then “today” ended. But the next morning, our time finally came.

Today I am still basking in the glory of the most righteous 15 minutes I could possibly spend strapped to a man who is not my husband. It was my very first experience paragliding and I don’t think it possible to find a better pilot for the experience than Frode, an expert Acro-paragliding pilot from Norway. (Chris flew tandem with Nick, who is a journalist/extreme sports enthusiast from the U.S., and claims his experience was the most magnificent). Anyway, let there be no doubt that it was absolutely wonderful for each of us. Mine went something like this.

After about a 2-minute orientation Frode strapped me up and hooked us together and when he gave me the word, we pulled forward, took a few running steps toward the precipice of the cliff, and were airborne! Then instead up gliding down, Frode harnessed the wind and we went up and up some more. We sailed back and forth for a while just enjoying the view…soaring with some friendly vultures…leaving the noise and chaos below…and trading the equatorial heat for cool exhilarating breezes…Ahhh! It was a beautiful escape; just the wind and the sky and the glider – and for the duration of our flight all was well in the world, there was no need for me to save it. Then judging that I was comfortable in my new environment, Frode asked if I’d like to do some wing dips. I didn’t exactly know what that meant but I was so elated with the whole thing I answered “Sure, sounds great to me”!

As a child my favorite playground equipment was the merry-go-round and the swings. I loved to get the merry-go-round spinning so fast that I knew I would fly right off into oblivion if I didn’t hold tight enough. And on the swings I liked to reach the height where I could feel as if I were high diving as I swooped down the pendulum of the swing. I quickly learned that wing dips are something like both of these things combined, thrown into the air, and multiplied tenfold. As we say here in Ghana they are “Sweet Paa”, maybe even sweeter than a double dip of frozen custard. I whooped and laughed even when my eye caught a glimpse of the sail nearly lateral to us.

After that we took a relaxing cruise around the sky combing the ridge, taking in the sights of the rock outcroppings and the trees that appeared broccoli-like from this perspective. I would have been happy to play in the sky all day and I’m sure Frode had the skill to keep us there. But all good things must come to an end (and many others were waiting their turn to enjoy such an experience). So we started our descent toward the soccer field below and Frode threw in some really awesome mind numbing spiral spins before bringing us in very lightly for our landing. My instructions for landing were that we would run together for a few feet to absorb the momentum as we touched down. But I barely had 3 steps in before I found myself seated comfortably on the ground. (I guess I hadn’t quite recovered my land legs after pulling 3 ½ G’s in the sky). But I didn’t care. My head was still high in the clouds.

Chris and I can easily see how a person could become ‘addicted’ to paragliding. How lovely it would be to spend our days hiking up mountains and flying back down. But since we’ll soon again be living in Iowa, a land of few mountains, we may be able to keep the appetite at bay. But let me give you a warning: If ever you’re tempted to tell either of us to go take a flying leap, think twice. We’d most likely respond “Sounds great to me, let’s go leap together”!

Check back for photos and possibly video of the above events. If you read “The Excursion” (not here on the blog but available by special request) you know that our little camera disappeared a few weeks ago. But snapshots taken by our friends are forthcoming. And in-flight video snippets may soon be available via our pilots’ websites (if so we’ll provide links as well).

As we round the bend toward the home stretch of our volunteer service, Chris and I want to inform as many people as possible about the projects we’re striving to complete. We want to involve those of you who are interested in our activities here, without being burdensome. But we do need your help! So we’re providing this summary of projects so you know what’s up and what’s coming, to help you decide if or how you’d like to contribute.



Our current library

School Library:

Our students need a library and the school needs money to get it done. This project is currently posted on the Peace Corps website and is open for donations of any amount. This link should take you right to it: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=641-293 . In addition to a description of the project, you can see our status in relation to having the project funded (we need a total of $2,838). Donations to this project are tax deductible and are needed ASAP.



Kids at STARS 2009

STARS:

You may remember our blog entry about this last year. This is an educational leadership conference for our most promising senior high students from rural Ghanaian schools. We found it to be a very worthwhile event last year so we’re working to make it happen again this year. This project is also currently posted on the Peace Corps website: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=641-291 . Once again, donations to this project may be tax deductible. (A total of $3,765 is needed).

Current year’s Invest in our Future scholarship recipients

Scholarship Fund:

If you are not already familiar with this, let me try to explain it by saying-

This is an officially unofficial scholarship program that works through friends & family, their faith in me, and my personal connections here in Ghana. I initially tried to set this up through the standard Peace Corps channels but because of monitoring difficulties (believe it or not, corruption does exist in the GES - Ghana Education System) I was told by Peace Corps Ghana that they could not facilitate a scholarship through the on-line system. Regardless, we have been able to keep 15 students in school so far by covering all their standard boarding fees. If we can add about $4,500 to our coffers we can keep these kids in school next year as well. Depending on how GES and the government of Ghana respond to the former administration’s decision to change high school from 3 to 4 years, this amount might see the students through to graduation. At the very least they’ll be one step closer. If you want more info on this I have plenty, plenty. Just ask and I’ll send more info to you. This project is not tax deductible for you, but it is invaluable to the scholarship kids.



At the 2009 Art Show

Art Show:

Currently Chris is helping to organize the 13th Annual Peace Corps Art Show. This includes a week-long exhibition and series of workshops. As in past years, each volunteer who teaches visual arts will bring his or her top female and male student to participate, along with a sampling of their student’s work to share. Because the represented schools are spread across different regions of the country and because half of our visual arts teachers are stationed at deaf schools, this event offers a unique and very important opportunity for integration and socialization. This year’s event will be hosted at Dzodze (pronounced; Joe 'J) Senior High School in the Volta Region and will coincide with another festival which celebrates the importance of visual arts and crafts in Volta. Hands-on workshops will include traditional ceramics and kente weaving. Participants will also visit a kente weaving village and one of the most dynamic traditional markets in West Africa. An educational and creative HIV & AIDS event will also be included. Once this project is posted and ready for donations via the Peace Corps website, we will send out another quick notice. (We anticipate that approximately $3,000 to $4,000 will be needed).

Please don’t think that we’re a couple of slackers and that these are the only things we’re doing to save the world. Rather these are the only things that we need financial support for. So thanks in advance if you are able to help. It’ won’t be long now and we’re looking soooo forward to seeing our dear friends, family, (and things like cheeseburgers, garden veges, Iowa chops, sweet corn…) when we return home in August!

In Ghana safe filtered drinking water is most readily available in clear plastic bags or sachets with a company name printed on them. It costs 5 pesewas, the equivalent to 3 cents. These are the primary source of safe drinking water for the majority of Ghanaians so it is a good and affordable thing. The problem is that there is a VERY serious issue with how the empty sachets are disposed of. For the most part they are simply tossed on the ground.

Nearly 300 tons of plastic waste is discarded in Ghana – every day! The greatest amount comes from various forms of plastic bags (boy do they have plastic bags) and most of this plastic waste is the direct result of safe drinking water. It sounds strange to say it that way, but what makes for a convenient, sterile, affordable, portable container for purified water also makes up for over 80% of the plastic trash.

Before the movement toward “modernization” in Ghana many of the food products purchased were served in say a banana leaf or corn husk, some still are, and people would consume the food and toss the wrapper on the ground for one of the millions of sheep or goats to eat, or it was left to simply biodegrade. Then along came well meaning foreigners to help with sanitation issues and they taught the people that plastic is clean, safe and good. But they never taught them that animals can’t eat plastic and plastic does not biodegrade. They were not trained in the proper disposal of non-biodegradable products so after the introduction of plastic they continued the same habit of tossing their rubbish on the ground and therein lay the problem. This is an entire conversation in itself and I really want to focus on our sachet project but suffice it to say sadly there seems to be little or no initiative on anyone’s part to address the serious issue of rubbish control here.



Typical beach in Ghana

I wrote in my journal toward the beginning of training how intriguing drinking water out of a bag was and how it seemed to in some ways make more sense than the ubiquitous plastic bottles. But I was distresses by the sight of millions (and I mean millions) of sachets scattered everywhere and I was going to put it on myself to figure out some creative way to use them. Well here we are a year and a half later and we have the Made @ DASHS sachet project.

The Girls; Priscilla & Joyce

Every year the visual arts teachers hold the Peace Corps Art Show where we gather with our top students to do workshops and show off our work. This is where the seed was planted for me. I started working with my students on product design and had them concentrate on what could be made from the sachets. Suggestions included everything from pencil, book bags and wallets, to rain coats and umbrellas. Many different designs and ideas were thrown around but we decided on a couple of different wallet designs and a woman’s hand bag to be made for the Art Show. We produced several of each of the designs along with a few decorative mobiles of cranes folded from sachets (resulting from a lesson on origami). All the products were quite well received and we sold most of what we took.

Flush with success we returned to DASHS and I proceeded to map out a plan for the future of the project. At the beginning of the next term we would start production in earnest in hopes of producing enough products to send to the US for the holiday season. We reworked the designs to simplify the process and we added a new design; a small zippered pouch. We decided against making any more of the hand bags do to its complexity. I worked with the students not only on the sachet products but also on setting goals, working efficiently and schemes on staying organized. I talked to them about the demands, expectations, and responsibilities of running a small business. Honestly like everything else most of this went in one ear and out the other but it was obvious that some of the information stuck. I also worked with my students and continue to work with them on educating the rest of the school on why we should keep Ghana clean and how we could use DASHS as a model. To this end we made some receptacles for sachet disposal and they were placed around central campus and I “tried” to train the students in their use. Consider that many of these kids are from the rural villages and they have never seen a rubbish bin let alone used one. It worked for about two weeks and there was a profound difference in the appearance of campus. But after that interest waned and many students decided it took just too much energy to walk the 10 meters to one of the receptacles. I continue to wrestle with this issue.

A sachet receptacle/ playground equipment

I was originally hoping to have 600 pieces ready to ship within 2 months from the start of school. Well as you have heard us complain previously, school doesn’t really start when it is suppose to so in the end we had barely a month to produce what was to be shipped for the holidays. We made a large chart, kind of like the United Way, and we updated it at the start of each week and in the end we surpassed our goals resulting in 260 wallets and pouches being shipped to the US via Ghana postal and a prayer.

Well the wallets did arrive and they seem to be a great hit. Along with some donations we earned around $700 for the school. This was all thanks to several dedicated volunteers including our parents, Tammi’s sister and nieces Rachel and Jessica, and our friend Jean back in Ames.

Sampson folding dividers

Every bit of the proceeds after shipping costs and quite minimal material expenses (after all we are using rubbish) will go directly into school improvements. I am hopeful that our initial “infrastructure” project will be the construction of a school canteen. At present food is served in a rather unsanitary environment, bare ground open to whatever animals choose to stroll through. Also the students presently have nowhere to sit and eat. I decided on this as the first project not only because the students and staff have been wanting it improved for a long time, but also in hopes that due to its high visibility, students and staff will readily recognize the benefits of the sachet project.

MTN sewing a wallet

We just returned from an excursion with the visual arts students and it was made entirely possible by the sachet sales. We took students to see various craft villages and expose them to some of their heritage. More on the excursion later.

Josh hot cutting parts

Other things we are considering doing wiht the monies are the purchase of more books for the hopefully soon to be refurbished library, the purchase of cisterns to retain rain water, and perhaps some of the monies will go into the scholarship fund. My vision is that all the proceeds will go toward improvements to the school. But at the end of the day it will not be my say as to where the proceeds go. I must say presently this worries me. You see it seems everyone has distinct ideas as to where the money should go and sadly most of the ideas are self serving. It is an issue that Tammi and I have profound frustration with and I don’t see it being resolved any time soon.

Josh cleaning sachets

So where do we go from here? That is the million dollar question. My plan is to serve as the distributer in the US and to have a teacher here at DASHS manage the program. I would work with the teacher and students on designs and form a representative committee to make collective decisions on how the monies should be spent. This would all happen in a perfect world but we’re definitely not in a perfect world.



Actual Made in Ghana @ DASHS sachet products

We have just finished 120 small and large zippered pouches; (a new design thanks to suggestions from you all) and have shipped them to our niece in Milwaukee to sell as a fund raiser for her Amnesty International club. We now plan to start producing wallets and pouches for the local market here along with working up an inventory I can bring back to the states at our close of service. But what happens after that? What happens to the money I send back? I honestly do not know.

You see I have managed to stumble into one of the greatest issues I feel Peace Corps Volunteers deal with; most of the time we start projects when we really should be overseeing the starting of projects and we end up running them because it requires much less pain and mental anguish. People here seem to be much happier if you do it for them. I have been working on the premise that if I got the project off the ground and they saw actual tangible benefits they might take it and run… Not so much.

In the end I feel this is a very positive project that holds a great deal of potential but all this is left up to the folks over here. I cannot and will not micro manage it, they must learn to do for themselves and I feel I have given them a pretty good tool to work with. We’ll see…

Yes there is always hope!

ECG-That’s supposed to stand for Electricity Company of Ghana. But many say it more accurately stands for “Electric Comes and Goes”. Lately it’s been doing a lot more going. It doesn’t help that people set bush fires this time of year and those fires don’t discriminate between burning down the bush and burning down the power poles.

Chris looks on as flames from a recent bush fire lap against the walls of my ICT lab at school

The flow of running water seems to be taking its cue from ECG. It has been gone a lot lately as well. Plus it’s been miserably hot (even the locals are complaining) and it doesn’t do the best things for my motivation or general psyche. I get particularly cranky I wake in the night bathed in sweat because the power has gone again and taken our ceiling fan with it. It’s at times like these that I try to remind myself to be thankful for these luxuries in the first place. But it’s a challenge to be chipper all the time. Having our phone and internet services crash this week has added another interesting dimension. Although friends and family may be grateful that they have not heard from me, since my primary thoughts have been; I hate ants, I hate this heat, Stupid ants, Those %*#@ goats!, It’s so stinking hot…I’m melting! I hate F-ing ants! (You get the idea).

Anyway, a change in scenery might help. So it could be fortunate that later this week Chris and I will be chaperoning an overnight excursion. The visual art students who have been working on the water sachet project (Chris has a blog spot coming about this) are being rewarded with a field trip. The original plan included a visit to the most successful Ghanaian textile factory but that part of the trip had to be cancelled since the factory is temporarily shutting down (after unexpectedly running out of one of its primary production supplies). With any luck, however, the students will still get to visit a bead making village and bead market, a kente weaving village, a store that specializes in Ghanaian handicrafts, and the Akosombo dam which is where our electricity comes from – at least sometimes.

When meetings start late if they come off at all, when progress seems impossible, when it feels like we’re the only ones who care, it’s nice to be part of a newly formed group.


Not only do the members show up for meetings, but they are often times waiting outside the gate just in case Chris or I might happen to get things started early! New members are constantly showing up wanting to take an active role. Participants are so proud of their achievements they ask when we will meet again and if we can meet sooner. And when you remind them, We will meet tomorrow, they squeal, clap, and jump up and down with delight (literally)! This is the response we have gotten to our new book club.

But I suppose you would say it’s a special kind of book club…



It's a coloring book club!

Now if we can just figure out a way to bottle up some of this motivation and spread it to our other project groups we can probably save the world by our close of service!

One…

We spent Christmas night camped out in style on the Serengeti Plain.

Our Tanzania safari was incredible, and did we see the big 5?

Oh yeah!...

And then some...!

This is for you, Cyn

What made it all really special is that we were able to share the experience with family.

No one can express it quite like our guide, Mussa,

but the best way to summarize the trip is to simply say “Wow!”

Two…

Since we were going all out, Chris and I decided on an once-in-a-lifetime twofer. After parting with the Frittses in Nairobi on New Year’s Day, Chris and I flew to Rwanda.

The genocide museum in Kigali was a moving reminder of the human atrocities that took place in this beautiful country in the not so distant past. After being so warmly welcomed by such kind, gentle, people it was especially difficult to grasp the events that took place. At the same time this emphasizes the need for every child in Rwanda to visit this place (which is thankfully happening) as well as the need for all people around the world to visit similar sights at least once. Unfortunately being human is not always something to be proud of. Memorials around the globe like these serve as important reminders of the past in hopes that our ugly history not be repeated.

After paying our respects in Kigali we were off to seek our next once-in-a-lifetime experience in Volcanoes National Park.

Tour package, $ 750 pp

Park entrance, $ 500 pp

Spending 1 hour with a family of endangered mountain gorillas...$ Priceless!

Now that we’re feeling refreshed and incredibly blessed, we’re ready to tackle the final six months of our Peace Corps Odyssey.

I think that which I will miss most from my time here in Ghana are my evening walks. When the sun drops down in the sky and its intensity reduces to the somewhat sane mark, I’m willing to venture out of hiding. Today, as is typical on evenings in which I walk up the road, I meet and am greeted by many people returning from farm. (After laboring in the fields all day they are making their arduous way home. After lying under my ceiling fan escaping the heat I am out strolling for pleasure).

As I journey out, the image I see is truly African. I watch the sun dripping down the horizon behind the haze of a pale dusty blue Harmattan sky. Salmon pink, bright orange and amber hues radiate from the sky’s huge glowing disc. A ridge gently rises in the distance carpeted with dry high grass, palms, and the feminine curves of tall autonomous acacia trees.

There is much to see on my little adventures. To my right on the bank of the ditch I catch a glimpse of an impressive skink. His sides mimic the pinks and blues of the sky, and other lizards of the black and yellow-orange “push up” variety scurry in response to my approach. A little further along my walk I step to one side to avoiding a giant millipede cruising along the warm black pavement. And a few steps later skip over the remains of a big black scorpion. As I try to watch my step I also keep an eye above me and on the surrounding trees. You never know when you might catch sight of a green feathered parrot, the comical beak of a hornbill, the brilliant crest of a turaco, or the fantastic elongated flight feathers of a nightjar.

In the center of this evening portrait are silhouettes of the people. The first to pass by me is a man on a bicycle, a twig pen strapped on the back of the frame contains a bewildered young goat. A distance beyond, a woman wrapped in worn but colorful cloth balances a huge aluminum bowl on her head and a baby on her back. The contents of the bowl are uncertain except for a cutlass whose handle protrudes from the top. She is flanked by four children. A medium sized boy is shrouded by an unruly bundle of leafy branches which he wrestles to keep on his head, food for the goats at home. A young girl is topped with a bucket of maize. Another boy is capped by a giant stubby-fingered tuber, (tonight’s dinner will no doubt center on this true yam). And the final young boy is topped with an unwieldy dry branch at least twice as long as he is tall, fuel for his mother’s cooking fire.

Still at a bit of a distance, I notice the small boy with the big branch zigzagging down the road in a rather odd way. A little giggle travels the distance between us, and then I see a big white smile emerge from the shadow of his mother’s face. Now I’m close enough to this little entourage to understand what’s happening and I can’t help but to smile myself. I have seen this family before.

We had crossed paths earlier in the year but that time we were walking in the same direction. As I was returning from my evening stroll I had come up on them as they were setting off after a short break from their walk towards home. They were on one side of the road and I on the other. And so we walked on together (but separate). After the usual greetings, my Twi vocabulary was pretty much exhausted. So we walked along in silence; awkward silence (at least for me). I wasn’t sure how to break free of my uncomfortable social predicament, so I took a lesson I learned from my father. I started acting goofy.

First I voiced that I was tired (a little something I was able to pull from my limited Twi) and I started walking at a slower pace. This did not solve my problem, however. The kids copied my steps and slowed down as well. So then after a little bit I picked up the pace and started walking briskly. This did not go unnoticed by the children either who also picked up their pace. So I gave in and added some animated arm movements as if I were in a fake run which went over quite well. And then something akin to Monte’ Pythons’ silly walks ensued all the way to my driveway where I graciously made my exit. They continued on down the road satisfied with their evening’s entertainment.

As I approach the group tonight the boy has spied me first and is egging me on with his antics. We share a fun little exchange and continue in our separate directions. I am thankful for this evening’s walk and this pleasant encounter especially since I was in a bit of a “mood” for most of the day.

Playing Peace Corps volunteer is not always a walk in the park (or in our case a walk in the bush). Not so long ago I was at a crossroads. Reaching the half-way mark in one’s service is a great mile stone and cause for celebration. But it is also a time for reflection and setting new goals. What have I accomplished in my first year? What do I hope to accomplish in my second? Little questions – big burdens!

There were times during the first year when I thought I would be happy to simply survive! That wasn’t really my mind set when I first started out. Sure, I knew I SHOULD keep my expectations down and I SHOULD focus on the little successes, and yeah it’s great to say “If I have affected just one person in a positive way I can consider my service successful”. Blah, blah, blah…bunk. Those things sound great, and I think they really are great – just maybe not for me. I simply could not resist the temptation to have higher aspirations.

At least I had the sense (or lack of vision) to not assign anything specific to those aspirations. In the general sense my mind was and still is open as to where this journey will take me and as to what I might achieve. But it was tough reaching the half way point and realizing that mostly what I had to show for my efforts was…well…what do I have to show?! Survival – check. Now what?

There is a pretty big gap between survival and saving the world. And I spent most of the day today thinking about that, dwelling on that. I have been riding on a pendulum since I stepped off the plane. First the upswing; a great inspiration comes to mind and I start to work. Then the downswing; Plan A falls through followed by plan B and plan C. And just when I’m about to give up…a breakthrough! Then I’m cruising along with great momentum on the upswing then– WHAM! “Whoa, where did that wall come from”?!

There are times I would like to scream, “That’s it, I’m through, I don’t have the energy to care anymore!” But for some reason I keep on keepin’ on. Maybe it’s the spark in the eye of an 8 year old orphan. Maybe it’s the initiative I see building in my young counterpart. Maybe it’s the fact that every time I’m about to throw in the towel and walk away, someone slips in just under the wire and takes up the charge.

Before arriving and during training I heard variations of the same bit of advice several times; never doubt that the work you are doing is making a difference. Since the advice came with sincerity and from people I know and respect I feel there must be some truth in it. So when one of ‘those days’ comes along I try to remind myself of this and try to believe that my efforts are not in vain.

As I continue on my walk this evening I feel that things are on the upswing again. I break from the road and make a detour on a trail that leads past the borehole, through campus, and then on toward home. As I round the bend to the bore hole I hear the voices of two young ladies and then recognize the neighbor girls as one of them pumps water and the other fills her container.

I greet them first, “Maa Jo”!

They are delighted that I’m speaking Twi and giggle “Yeh niah”!

“Mo ho tu sen”? I continue.

“Eye! No won swe”? they reply testing my toddler level Twi.

“Menso me hoye” I throw back to them.

“Nowo ko he”? They prod testing my vernacular.

“Me ko sukuu ana me ko fia” I reply in stride.

“Oh Madam! Wayah di ye!” (You have done well), they shriek in response to our volley of basic words.

Had I been in a foul mood I may have interpreted their remarks as condescending and taken offense. But I take a bow instead, which spurs their delight and I smile happily all the way down the trail toward home. Life is what we make of it.

It might be a stretch to say that I joined Peace Corps in order to obtain the rank of Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) and feel like I’ve earned my seat at the monthly social gatherings, but it was a factor.

Long before I ever volunteered for the Peace Corps, I noticed that there was something that all Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs) have. I’m not sure where or how they got it. But I like it. And I’d like to have it to. If only I can put my finger on exactly what it is.

I can’t remember when I first heard about Peace Corps or who the first RPCV was that I met, but it left an impression. Maybe it was the work the person had done. Maybe it was the concept and mission of Peace Corps itself. Maybe it was the exotic image I had in my head. Maybe it was something I ate. But whatever it was, I noticed that each RPCV I met possessed something. No matter where each person served or how long it had been since they served, they had it. I’m not sure if the RPCV’s are even aware that they have this thing. But to me it’s quite evident albeit ever-so-difficult to get my hands on.

When I first began seriously entertaining the idea of volunteering I started asking a lot of questions to RPCVs I knew. This is when I started to get a better glimpse of the mysterious it. No matter how naïve I may have been with my questions, no RPCV was ever condescending. In fact, I felt they each showed great understanding, respect, and compassion. As I pressed on with my interrogations, the RPCV would patiently answer my questions the best they could. But I got the feeling they were leaving something out. Although at the same time I didn’t feel they were trying to hide anything from me. I think maybe the RPCVs responded to my inquiries much like a parent does with a child. It was like a pat on the head. No matter how much you try there are some things in life that cannot simply be explained.

In the end I decided that there must be only one way that I could get it. I volunteered. Now after a year+ in Peace Corps, I don’t believe I necessarily have it, but maybe I’m beginning to grasp it. The slogan says that Peace Corps is “The toughest job you’ll ever love”. While this is proving to be true, there is a lot more to it. It’s not just a job (or just an adventure). It’s a level of growth and a mindset.

Peace Corps is kind of like spring cleaning. First you clear out all you have accumulated. Then you knock off the dust, analyze each thing, and decide what’s worth holding on to, what’s superfluous, and what needs to go. First I did this physically while preparing to leave home. Then upon arriving at my assigned location I started to go through the process again. But this time psychologically. This has led me to believe that it might not be something that RPCVs have, but rather it might be something they have given up or decided to leave behind.

In my mind RPCVs reside on a pedestal. And like a child, I would like to emulate my heroes. As I continue on through the second year of my Peace Corps odyssey, I realize that what I have experienced so far has made an irrevocable impact on my life. But I can’t know if when I return home I will have acquired what those RPCVs possess. I hope I’m getting closer… still working on it.

Pictured: A few of the latest from Ghana to obtain the rank of RPCV

I dug into my stash of blogspot drafts this week and pulled out this one:

Inside the boys' dorm privy

After my tours of Southeast Asia I was a little concerned that when I came to Ghana I might be dealing with a potentially tedious “potty” situation for 27 months. I was relieved to learn, however, that a toilet in Ghana very closely resembles our American toilet. Thankfully, my preparations in moving to Ghana did NOT have to include daily workouts of thigh-numbing squat exercises.

Having said this, however, there are certainly differences in the types and availability of facilities. Water is a precious commodity, and most people in Ghana have to haul their daily water supply from the local well or bore hole. The water source may be a 20 minute trek one way. And as you might imagine, carrying a large container of water on one’s head, up a hill, under the African sun, can be a workout. So with the lack of conveniently piped water, there are more urinals and pit toilets in Ghana than flush toilets.

School urinal (with designated areas for boys on one side, girls on the other side, and teachers in the middle)

I have learned some things about water consumption in the time that I have been living here. First, it’s amazing how much water it takes to flush a toilet! Second, it takes much less effort to collect rain water from a roof than it does to pull buckets of water from a well. Third, conservation.

Do you remember when you used to leave the faucet run all the while that you brushed your teeth? (I hope none of you do that anymore). To me it now seems equally ridiculous to do this when you shower! I can take a very respectable bucket bath with less than 1/3 the amount of water it takes to flush just once. And when we have running water for a shower I can use even less. If you are one of those people who are now in shock due to your knowledge of my showering habits in a “former life”, please take this moment to pick your jaw up from the floor. I’m serious! Admittedly it may also be that my new behavior is encouraged by our lack of a hot water heater. But I’m hoping to take my water conserving habits home with me nonetheless.

A great experiment for the American public would be for everyone to haul their own water for just a few days. I’ll bet our water consumption (or water waste) would plummet as a result.

Primary and junior high students hauled water to mix cement for a new building addition. The small stream is over ¼ mile away.

Back to toilets-

Pit toilets-common Flush toilets-not necessarily uncommon unless you are traveling and really need to find oneUrinals-hmmmUntil I moved to Ghana, I did not know that women use urinals. The urinals here are typically flat cement slabs (or bare ground) with ¾ height partitions around the sides. Some have a men’s side and a women’s side. Some are unisex. But it doesn’t matter because all are constructed the same way – just a cement slab with a hole that opens to the outside at the base of one wall. That’s it. They vary a little bit. Sometimes the “privacy” partitions are cement and sometimes plywood or woven palm fronds. And sometimes the really fancy ones have a shallow trough built into the floor to help guide the yellow river to the drain hole. Regardless, you don’t normally want to be downwind from these “structures” on a hot day and suffice it to say that washing of shoes is a regular chore in Ghana.

Another girls' room on campus

Inside a newer urinal

I’ve learned to fast on travel days and am in awe of myself that I can go all day without a potty stop. On long tro-tro rides, sometimes other passengers will request a pit stop at which point the driver will pull to the side and a few people jump out and relieve themselves roadside. I’ve seen more johnsons in Ghana alone than I thought I’d ever see in a lifetime. And No, it’s NOT because I’m trying to look. In fact it’s hard to avoid catching a glimpse when you are surrounded by so many free-ranging wankies.

Fellow PCV, Toby, steps a few feet away from our table to relieve himself in the "privacy" of the establishment’s urinal.

Of course it’s easy for the men. But I’ve also seen some women that have adapted to the difficult circumstances. I am here to tell you that some Ghanaian women can pee standing up! Once I got over the initial shock of seeing that maneuver, I found it to be enviable. But for so many reasons I’m not about to try it myself.

A word you hear quite often maybe too often here is “somehow.” It is used during discussions about the progress of something or the hopes of progress; “The computer lab will be finished by God’s grace…somehow.” “The government will by all means get us the monies they owe us…somehow.” I believe it is more of a disclaimer or optimistic version of “or maybe not.” Sadly too often discussions on progress and development end with “somehow.” (By the way neither has happened yet. It may, somehow…someday.)

Our hope for the future

BUT! Yes but I have swung back into the optimist’s camp and I see hope for things here. Why? Well as often as I hear “somehow,” I hear phrases like “I know” and “We want to do it.” And I hear less and less, “Will you do it for us?” and more “how can we help?” This is a small step but very exciting! Far too long I have stewed in anger after watching Ghanaians accept their place and not hoping for better. I was overlooking the ones who were saying, “Enough already, let’s change things, let’s take control of our destinies.”

The major project I am unveiling this year at school is The Campus Pride Initiative. I happened upon its new motto at the first Sunday church service at school this past week. Rev. Kwarteng gave a sermon on making a difference, something the students needed and I really needed. I took a bit of poetic license and have decided the Campus Pride Initiative will have the motto; Effect Positive Change. I hope that it will have an effect on just a few and that effect in turn will go far beyond DASHS. I want these students to have hope, to be the change agents that Ghana so desperately needs.

More hope

Anyway I really want to talk about a couple of stories we heard recently, one on BBC and one on NPR. The BBC story was called “Why is Africa Poor?” and the more Tammi and I listened, the more spot on we felt they were with their observations. As I have said before one of the amazing things about Peace Corps is we are here for over two years which grants us the ability to get a real sense of what is happening in a place though I could never say we can completely understand, our context just does not work here. It is very important to remember this when considering how to “help.” We have seen too often when a well meaning NGO drops in, shells out a bunch of money, maybe puts up a building or two and then leaves without ever spending the time to find out what or where the real need is. I would argue the most important need is “ownership.” People need to be able to say, “I worked for this.” or “I earned that.” These phrases are used far too little here and when they are sadly it is the corrupt politicians and civil servants justifying their chopping (skimming off the top for themselves) of budgets. One of the best lines from the BBC story states, “Africa is not poor, it is poorly managed.” I find this to sadly be so very true. As I see it, we well meaning people and governments of the west have created a continent of aid junkies who believe that someone else will do it for them, and that they will be taken care of no matter what. The heartening thing is that most of the people here we have spoken with realize this and recognize that it isn’t good. But just like drug addiction it isn't that easy to kick the habit especially when western governments and companies continue to profit from the addiction.

Ghana's future military...

We stay in a region called Afram Plains and I would guess it is about the size of two or three counties in Iowa, around 500 square miles. The US Government under the guise of the Millennium Challenge Account has put almost $250 million into the development of Afram Plains via the Ghanaian Government. After everyone is finished dipping their hands in the jar it is hard to see a single change for the better here. One now sees is a new fleet of pickup trucks with the MCA logo on their doors and a nice new half empty building in Donkorkrom which houses a few of their offices complete with air conditioning throughout! Imagine if 250 million dollars was spent on 3 rural counties in Iowa.

Anyway it is very easy to be angry and jaded but I know that there is hope, great hope and I remain angry but not jaded. The folks around here want to see change. They want to see a better future for their children, and they love their country. They simply do not know how to do it or they feel powerless and sadly it breeds complacency. In my humble opinion what they need from us is more Peace Corps or something like it and less throwing of guilt money at the problems. They need assistance, good education and training, and friendship, not more money. We need to oversee/guide not do. We cannot continue to come to the rescue every time someone breaks a nail. Teach them to mend it themselves. For example, I see far too many bits and pieces of perfectly good road machinery lying along the unfinished road from here to Etche because something broke down. And from experience, if something goes wrong the “obruni” (white man) will come and give them a replacement. Why not? After all, we bought the machinery to begin with. If we want to truly help, we need to continue and expand the Peace Corps style model. A model where assistants integrate into the community as much as possible and are make the time to identify what really needs to be done. Then provide assistance. Don’t do it for them.

...or maybe not

I have come to see the people in my community as friends and family, not a project. And I will very much miss them when we leave in some ten months. I have come to truly care. I go as far as saying I have come to really love these people and I pray for only the best for them. If you want to help, encourage our government to not only continue but enlarge the Peace Corps. And when giving money to any development organization, look closely at how those organizations function. The Peace Corps is not perfect and there is plenty of room for improvement. But I think that when JFK and General Shriver conceived of this brilliant idea almost 50 years ago, they were really on to something.

A great challenge for us is that our view of the world is tied to our own context. For instance, how do we define poor? I can say with confidence it is not the same as how Ghanaians would define it. The other night Tammi and I were on a walk and decided to see what was down a trail that went off the main road. We came to a clean attractive little area surrounded by plantain and banana trees and a tidy little mud walled hut with no running water or electricity. There was a friendly woman with her healthy happy children, including one of the more pleasant young ladies I have ever met who attends the JHS just down the road. Are they poor? Why? What more do they need?

Most beautiful smile in the world!

I can’t help to think that there are far worse situations in the world. Shouldn’t the aid go to those situations? Or better yet, be directed to prevention of those situations instead of playing triage. We cannot continue to apply our western sensibilities to the issues over here. We simply must take the time to develop relationships that will help us to gain the understanding needed to make better decisions about international aid.

There are three directives to the Peace Corps mission. One is “to educate the host country’s people about the people of America.” There recently was a group from Scotland visiting and helping at the school. We were told that there was a very negative image of Americans in Scotland and getting to know us they were surprised how different we were from their preconceived perception. I trust I don’t need to go there… Ok I will, “Bush loving war mongers.” I know they weren’t Ghanaians but it really illustrates the point. I hope that we are having the same effect on our Ghanaian friends and colleagues.

Please listen to these podcasts and let me know what you think. It is important for the peoples of Africa that we shift our thinking toward aid. APR’s Speaking of Faith; “Ethics of Aid” http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2009/ethicsofaid-kenya/ BBC: “Why is Africa Poor?” Part 1: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p003zt3q

I feel the most important thing you need to take especially from the BBC series is at the end of the day the people not just here but everywhere need to do for themselves. We all want ownership of something and the pride that goes with it.

So somehow we WILL get it done. We ALL will get it done…somehow.

I look forward to continuing this conversation…

Sometimes I wonder how often in the course of African history, peoples’ lives have changed after a meeting of minds under a mango tree. It may seem quite insignificant in the greater scheme of things, but this week our neighborhood women’s group gathered together to learn about family planning.

For the past few months my friend and fellow faculty member, Gifty, and I have been going around visiting the homes of women in our area. We have been learning a little bit about the ladies, their families, what they enjoy in life, and what is difficult for them. We listen for things that make each woman unique and we listen for things that they have in common. The first common issue that bubbled to the surface of our conversations was family planning. The ladies wished to learn more. So with Gifty’s connections at the hospital, our first group meeting was arranged.

Two representatives came from the hospital’s family planning center and provided information regarding the use, benefits, and drawbacks of all types of birth control from implants and IUD’s to the rhythm method and how breast feeding technique can affect fertility. I thought I was fairly knowledgeable on the subject, but even I learned something despite the fact that the whole presentation was in Twi.

Personally, I have really enjoyed this women’s group project and I’ve been hoping that I’m not the only one benefiting. So after the meeting when the group asked with anticipation “Can we have another event like this next month?” my spirits flew to the highest branches of the mango tree.

To be continued...

There is an orphanage in town. When we first came to Donkorkrom our headmaster was going to take us there for introductions. But somewhere between the obligatory district assembly, chief’s palace, police station, administrative offices, etc., etc., that particular stop got missed. So Chris and I decided that we should probably go there on our own some day.

The orphanage was established about 5 years ago with the assistance of the Presbyterian Church. I’m not sure what Donkorkrom would look like without the Presby Church. For one thing, the church itself stands quite prominently on one end of town and its congregation is one of the largest in the area. It is flanked on one side by the Presby grade school, and just around the corner and down the street is the Presby hospital and dental clinic. The church is quite progressive and active in the community. In fact the assistant pastor recently invited me to attend a meeting in a nearby village where the Presby’s are helping to set up an agricultural community for women living with HIV/AIDS. The Presbyterians among you should be quite proud.

At first we weren’t sure if visiting the orphanage was a good idea. I know it’s not the same, but I kept thinking back to the time when Chris and I decided to go “just to look” at the Great Pyrenees puppies and came home with Jazper! But armed with a conviction to our child-free lifestyle and a Ghanaian law that forbids adoption to foreigners, we felt it would be safe for us to go. A warm reception by the house mothers and children made us feel immediately welcome and now we make regular stops there every couple of weeks. Thanks to those of you who have sent books, colors, etc., we are able to arrive with some type of planned activity complete with your donations to leave behind. Despite the fact that other white voluntourists occasionally visit the orphanage, Chris and I have become regular enough that as soon as we start up the driveway we here little voices calling “Kwamie Tenten!, Sister Adwoa!”, which of course motivates us to keep going back.

At present there are 17 children, ranging from infant to primary school in age. All of them are from our Afram Plains area. According to the house mothers the children have come from mother’s who died at childbirth, are mentally unstable, and/or from destitute families who cannot or will not provide for their children. Having never been to another orphanage Chris and I have no basis for comparison. But the facility seems clean enough and loving enough and the children are provided with decent education and health care (which are luxuries that not all children here have). I’m sure it’s not all rosy though. We are beginning to know the individual children well enough to identify those who will likely have greater mental and physical obstacles to overcome. But as they say here in Ghana, “They are trying”.

Instead of helping to propagate our species, I’ve made a vow to try and make this world a little better place for those who are already here. I’m not sure if our visits to the orphanage are helping to achieve this goal. But hopefully providing a little exposure to Dr. Seuss can’t hurt!

It was no surprise when calls and texts came flooding into the Peace Corps Ghana office very shortly after it was announced that President Obama would visit the country. Eager volunteers wanted to know when they would get to meet him. The standard response line was “There has been no itinerary given for President Obama’s visit. When we find anything out we will let you know.” We were saddened when we were finally told that Pres. Obama had no plans to meet with PCVs for he would only be here for a day.

Three days before his arrival, however, we all received a text via the PCEBS, Peace Corps Emergency Broadcast System. Ok, so I made up this name. But we do have a communication chain established should something occur that we all needed to be aware of. It is most often dangerous situations but in this case we were informed that all PCVs were invited to Accra for the sending off event for the President and his family. Needless to say the texting became furious; “Are you going” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” “What do you think will happen?” “I heard we will be having lunch with him.” And so on. The PC rumor mill manages to spread truths and falsities like wild fire. While we were down at the Obama event I actually even heard that Tammi and I were being transferred to the Upper West Region. Purely rumor, though we do plan to visit at the end of this month.

It just so happened that we were scheduled to be in Accra for mid service medical, or as we fondly call it “Poop in a Cup,” so the Obama visit fit into our schedule perfectly. We likely would have gone one way or another but there would have been doubts as anyone who has visited us can vouch for me when I say that traveling in this country is rarely fun. We were up a 4 am to walk the mile and a half into town to catch the Metro Mass bus that goes just past our house but is always full at that time and will not stop to pick us up.

After a reasonably uneventful trip, save the expected horrible roads and maniac tro-tro drivers, we made it to Accra in time to learn we had only 45 minutes to get to the embassy to pick up our invitations/security passes. I managed to talk a PC driver into taking a group of us over saving us a 30+ minute walk. We arrived thinking that since we were at the American Embassy then we would be on American Time; “When we say 2 pm we mean 2 pm.” I was wrong. We arrived only to stand around in front of the embassy for an hour waiting for something to happen. American Embassy or not we had been reminded that we are still in Ghana. This did give us time to do a little catching up with fellow PCVs many whom we had not seen since December. Everyone received their commemorative tickets suitable for framing and we were hustled onto one of 20 or 30 busses and hauled off to the airport under police escort. We arrived at the airport and the place was swarming with fully outfitted Ghanaian soldiers with automatic weapons (I’m sure these were loaded), Ghanaian police with automatic weapons (maybe or maybe not loaded) and lots of white guys with sunglasses and bulges under their suit jackets. With suit jackets, ties, temps pushing 90° and not a drop of sweat to be seen, these guys were scary cool customers and were more unnerving than the machinegun toting soldiers.

We cued and waited yet again in the equatorial sun (did I mention I did not bring water or a hat) for a good while and were finally allowed in. As we walked toward the gate to the tarmac we were afforded a wonderful view of Air Force One and with a bit of trepidation cameras started clicking. No one was tackled by Secret Service so we figured it was ok. We got up to the gate only to find out we would have to wait a bit longer while the metal detectors, or as one of our Secret Service handlers called them “the magnetometers”, were assembled. Now for the low point; I suddenly realized that I had a pocket knife, which a dear friend had given me, in my left pocket. “Shit! What am I going to do? I’m not giving up the knife. It means a lot to me.” We decided I should just wait and see what was said at the detectors. It was NOT PRETTY. Secret Service are not who they are for their friendly personalities and forgiveness. I was short of thrown out on my ear and said to get rid of it or not to come back. So while the others went on ahead (including my stand-by-your-man wife), I literally ran (expecting to be tackled) back towards the busses where a lot of other PCVs and embassy staff were still waiting in the cool air conditioned comfort of their coaches where I deposited my knife in hopes of seeing it again someday and ran back up toward the gate. Upon my return to the first gate I was immediately informed nicely but assertively that “No one else is permitted in at this time. You have to wait”. So I did.

Scary Secret Service guys

Scary Peace Corps Guy

Finally another group of PCVs & Embassy people started to cue and I also fell into line. At the same time to all of our amazement a group of Ghanaians started to line up, (as is the case in so many developing countries, the act of properly cueing in not something Ghanaians are particularly good at). The handler for our section decided we would go in first and she started to march us toward the gate. The Ghanaians did not like this idea at all and the way I saw it all hell broke loose. It was a scene right out of the evening news typically ending with a body count. I kept involuntarily running through my mind the story about all the soccer fans that had died at the stadium in Cote’ D’Ivoire in a similar situation just a few months before. Being mildly claustrophobic, I spent the next half hour talking myself down and wondering why no one would do anything. It continued to get uglier and uglier so suffice it to say I was WIGGED OUT!! But I finally got through and I swore to myself that next time I have a chance to see the President of the United States on the tarmac of an airport in an African country; I will not carry a pocket knife.

Notice the dress...

During my wait in the mob scene, I had received a few texts from Tammi and other friends wanting to know if the waterboarding was finished and had I broken under the pressure. I responded with similar snide remarks and wondered if anyone was intercepting these cellular exchanges and if I might be getting myself into a whole mess of new trouble. I know; paranoid. Once I had rejoined my original group I told them the whole horrible story and that was that. We were here to see Obama and Air Force One was being moved into place on the tarmac as a back drop for his speech. WAY COOL!! (Bear with me for there are going to be a number of WAY COOL moments from here on).

There we were, all in festive moods, all dressed up in our best Ghana fashions, some in commemorative Barack Obama cloth, including Tammi. We waited, and we waited. We took pictures of the big ass plane, we took pictures of the commandos on the roof tops, we took more pictures of the secret service guys and we took pictures of each other posing in front of the “big ass plane”. Then the helicopters came. Three or four of them swept the landing strip in preparation of Obama’s arrival. Then Marine One (the helicopter you often see sitting on the White House lawn) arrived with Barack and his family. (How cool would it be to be a kid and get to fly around in a helicopter, let alone Marine One)? Then the Obamas were all swiftly swept away… but to where? We later learned that they had gone back to the hotel to shower before their departure and wondered aloud, “Don’t they have a freakin’ shower on the big ass plane?” Finally the moment we had been waiting for was about to arrive and I was thinkin’ “Damn, this camera sucks for taking pictures in the dark”. And it was getting darker.

The presidential limousine arrived and a traditional drum and dance troop was there to greet them as President Obama climbed out with Michelle on his arm (an imposing and beautiful woman by the way). Barack shared the grand stand with Ghana’s President John Atta Mills and it was pretty obvious that Mills was humbled by the experience. When they climbed the steps to the podiums the crowd was going nuts, lots of pictures were being taken, and it was an amazing moment for me when I realized that we are really here in Africa seeing the first African American president standing side by side with an African President for the first time ever. This was far beyond a way cool moment.

President Mills spoke for a few moments and we couldn’t understand a thing he was saying because we were standing so close to the stage that we were in front of the PA speakers (only about 30 feet away). But when we heard the crowd behind us erupt into applause we followed suit. It was then President Obama’s turn and again we could hardly hear anything he said but we did hear the words “Peace Corps” which caused the front rows of all 160+ Peace Corps volunteers to erupt into hysterics. Then we calmed down just long enough to allow him to say those words again and off we went again.

When the speeches were finished the moment that most people were hoping for had come; handshakes with the crowd. Being so dang tall, I was resigned to the back row and wasn’t about to push my way to the front of the crowd to touch him (or get tackled by secret service). Tammi also decided not to push (there are some cultural norms we have chosen not to adopt). But I actually really enjoyed getting to see fellow PCVs shake hands with our President or First Lady and hear how excited they were afterwards.

Now the end, and highlight for me, was near; Barack with Michelle on his arm walked up the steps of Air Force One and in a photogenic moment turned around and waved goodbye- a way cool moment! The door shut and that was it. Except we did get to see the big ass plane take off (even though I didn’t get a picture of it cause as I mentioned before our camera sucks at taking pictures in the dark).

Bye bye Oh...

Recap of the best parts: Being here in Africa for this truly historic moment, knowing that Peace Corps is on the President’s mind, sharing the moment with a group of people whom I love and have profound respect for (even though every one of us is out of our minds). You have to be a little crazy to do what we are doing here but in my humble opinion Peace Corps is the greatest model for development anyone has ever conceived. I know I would not trade any of these experiences for the world, especially this one.

BTW - We learned later that the limos, Marine One & all the other helicopters and other forms of transport were hauled over on giant transport planes ahead of time. The day after the big event, we saw the cargo planes fly over and let me tell you those are really big ass planes!

Oh I almost forgot; the ubiquitous navy blue podium from which you always see the president giving his speeches was also sent. The presidential seal was placed on the front of it just prior to arrival of the President himself (which also received great applause)…Another WAY COOL moment.

Oh and one last thing; after a lot of running up down rows of buses, you will all be relieved to know that I did finally retrieve my knife. All's well that ends well…

June 10, 2009. July 6, 2009. While these dates may mean little to most, they have great significance to a small group of Peace Corps volunteers (PCV’s) here in Ghana. June 10th marked 1 year in country and July 6 signified that we had completed 50% of our service commitment. So I thought we should take time for some reflection. Like how have we changed? What have we accomplished? What have we learned? And maybe most significantly how has our view of the world changed?

Chris and I will attempt to answer these questions in a series of blog entries by sharing some of our reflections of the first year. Here is the first one:

When I first arrived here I have to admit (at great risk of sounding like a very un-P.C. PCV) that everyone kind of looked the same.

Now before you judge me too harshly, let me add a few things to my defense. First, everybody, everyplace, and everything was new. I had a lot of mental sorting to do. Next, is a little obvious; everyone it seems has dark skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. Then add to this my primary project as a school teacher. All Ghanaian schools have a uniform code. Not only are the poorly lit classrooms typically packed with 40-60 students, but all of those students must wear the same dress, same color shoes, and the same cropped hair, the last item being regardless of gender. The girls must also even wear the same type of earrings – no identifying accessories are allowed at all! So while I know how bad it sounds, I have to admit that in the beginning to me they all looked the same.

Since then, of course, my perception of things have changed. I still don’t know half of my students’ names, but I at least I now recognize them for the individuals that they are. (And being teenagers, most of them are becoming very individual).

The first time I had to step into the classroom I was terrified! I’m in a foreign land. I stand out like…well like white on black. I’m a woman thrust into a male-dominated society. I have chosen not to have children of my own and I have never claimed “I want to be a teacher when I grow up”. And now the mission at hand was to deliver a lesson on HIV/AIDS to a room packed with over 60 teenagers that I had barely been introduced to and who think I talk funny. Yikes! What was I thinking when I volunteered to do this?!

Well, my first experience actually went fairly well and now I have survived my first full year as a teacher. I have pretty much gotten over the things that scared me then. There are plenty of other things that scare me now but they’re much different, like NOT being able to spend adequate time with the students in the classroom. I hate to admit it, but I even catch myself feeling a bit bored without the students around and almost miss those annoying pains-in-the-arse while we are on break. There are still a few students around right now though. And it seems that our home has become a magnet for some of them. For a couple without any kids, it sure seems like we have kids around a lot of the time.

The other day, one of Chris and my visitors was Victor. Victor is one of the four STARS students who traveled to Kumasi with us for the conference. He is extremely bright and a natural-born leader. He’s respectful and helpful, and a good-hearted kid. As is typical with visits, we sat on the sofa in our hall (living room) and chatted about several different things that were on our minds. We learned that over the school break, Victor planned to take an extra summer class and also help his mother at the little shop she runs in town.

The other day Victor showed his mother a photo from STARS in which our group of six was posed together. It took her by surprise. The two teachers in the photo were white! Learning that his mother’s shop was located on a main road in town I commented that surely his mother would have seen Chris and me before. We must have passed by dozens of times during our year here. While there may be an occasional short term volunteer at the hospital or orphanage, or even a rare tourist, we are the only obrunis that live in town. “Yes”, Victor politely explained, “this may be true. But to us you all kind of look alike”.

STARS 2009

We might not have gotten off to the best start: First, the STARS students that Chris and I had invited (DASHS’s top students) didn’t show up in time for our school bus to take them to town. We did end up arriving at the conference together though. Upon which Chris and I gave our students a little pocket money and sent them out to find a snack. Twenty minutes later we learned there was a conference rule that no students are to leave the site without an escort. Whoops…

Thankfully everyone showed up prepared for the opening event (and on time) and we were off to a good start after all.

Me, Chris, and our four shining STARS

It was an active week for us middle-aged curmudgeons. Our daily schedule went from breakfast at 7 am to lights out at 10 pm. Then I slept in the girls’ dorm and Chris in the boys’. Each day was filled with a host of activities:

Monday-Youth Leadership Day

Tuesday-HIV/AIDS Education Day

Wednesday-Careers Day

Thursday-Tertiary Education Day

Friday-Guest Speaker Day

We had small and large group discussions, Ghanaian guest speakers, role playing, counseling, and an assortment of leadership and team building activities. The students got to tour the college campus and visit the computer lab. We also had nightly events including debate, drama, movies, a talent show, music and dancing.

There were 60 STARS students in attendance representing every region in Ghana. For nearly all of the student participants, this conference was a first time experience in many ways: first time to travel outside of their home area, first time to visit a big city complete with multi-story buildings, first time to see a college campus, first time to mix with such a large diverse group of other top students, and most importantly first time to be heard and respected by their adult supervisors.

So how did it all go?

On the last day Chris and I sat down with our four students to summarize the week. We were impressed by the list of clubs and events they plan to implement at our own school: How to plan and study, HIV/AIDS peer education, Leadership seminars, goal setting workshop, workshop on how to develop your potential, and a weekly posting on food for thought.

To assist students with taking ideas and lessons learned back to their individual schools, we were provided with a kit of materials (including a bag of condoms and a wooden penis). Next school year will most certainly be an interesting one.

Chris reports that the highlight of the week for him was pretending to poke students in the eye. Ok, before you jump to any conclusions you must first know that Chris served as the “Activities Man”. He was the guy in charge of organizing those fun, goofy, team-building activities. One of those included blindfolding most of the participants. To make sure there was no cheating, he and some of the other organizers went around to each blindfolded person acting as if they were about to poke, punch, etc. The tactic proved quite affective. It was of great amusement to those who could see and with the way the instructors carried on, nobody with an insufficient blindfold could possibly keep from cracking up at their “threatening” antics.

It's all fun and games...

His other highlight was the last night when people wore the traditional dress of their area to the closing dinner and dance. He says “I was absolutely blown away by the beauty and diversity of the dress. This is in a country smaller that the state of Oregon. I find one of the most profound things I will take home from this entire PC experience is how amazing and inspiring diversity really is”.

For me, the highlight was a break-out session with a group of girls on HIV/AIDS day. This was their opportunity to ask candid questions in a safe environment. And ask they did. It was a positive, productive session. My only regret is that it seemed to end too soon. The off-shoots of that discussion could have kept us busy for weeks. (Periodically throughout the event a voice was popping into my head. It said “Is this really me doing this”? Who would have thought?)!

At the close of the event, our STARS said they wished they could stay. They also eagerly volunteered to return next year as Junior Group Leaders.

Its moments like these that make it all worth it

Yes, we’d say that the event was a success. Thanks to all of you who helped make it possible. And for those who did not get a chance to contribute this year…next year will be here before you know it!

So I made it to and back from the 12th annual Peace Corps Art Show, two students in tow. We all had a wonderful and enriching time. It was held in Cape Coast the city famous for its slave castle and a must stop for any visitor to Ghana. A matter of fact while we were there they were busily painting and cleaning up the castle in anticipation of a visit from President Obama when he comes in July. We were housed and fed at the school for the deaf there called “Cape Deaf”.

To those who contributed to the PCPP, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! Without you it would have never happened.

At the openning with Country Director Mike

Mingling

It was a week of young energy (sometimes too much), new friendships, exploration of new art forms, and for many learning a new language. I was admittedly a bit concerned about how the hearing students would react to the deaf students. But I was profoundly touched by their acceptance of each other from the very beginning. There was no trepidation what so ever. The hearing students took to learning sign with fervor and it became the overriding activity of the week. I guess in retrospect I should not be surprised because we have chosen the visual arts as our vocation of choice and sign is a visual language. Some of the highlights were a cultural performance by the blind & deaf students; blind students playing the drums and the deaf dancing. All of it done so beautifully until it was brought to a stop after it was learned that the chief does not allow drumming and dancing on Wednesdays (no one really knows why). We paid our 50 cedi fine to the chief and moved on. I’m just glad we didn’t have to give him a goat!

Deaf student cultural troop

Both students and PCVs took part in day long screen printing and batik workshops producing many beautiful things suitable for wearing. On the last day we took the students to Elmina Castle (a Dutch castle just up the shore from Cape Coast) and Kakum National Park (the place with the canopy walk). Oh and we had an art show. It was really nice to see what other PCVs and their students are doing and it varied as much as the regions do in Ghana.

Priscilla learning batik

The gang at Elmina Castle

Canopy walk at Kakum

The travel was long but well worth it and I look forward to next year’s event which I have agreed to lead. Again thank you all for your support. You can look forward to hearing from me in a year about the 13th annual PC Art Show…

If you are wondering what we have been up to the past couple of months (besides that little garage incident that I mentioned in my last entry) here are some snippets to get you up to speed---

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First, we want to extend a big “Thank You” to those who made donations for the two upcoming youth events. Both programs have been fully funded. The kids who have been selected to attend are very excited, and their families very proud. We will post some photos and give a recap of the events once they take place. The part you played in making it all possible is very much appreciated.

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At the end of last term, Chris and I spent some evenings down the road working with students at the junior high school on a World Aids Day poster contest.

It was a rewarding experience for both us and the students. The students felt very special being able to participate and some walked quite a distance to and from school after dark in order to take part in this free-will project. It was the first opportunity that many of the students had had to paint!

Peace will soon learn that her submission won a prize!

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We went to Egypt!

That stuff is REALLY old! The pyramids were cool, but the artwork in the temples really blew us away. It’s amazing how these things have withstood the test of time.

Egyptians refer to Africa as if it is a different continent and indeed Ghana did seem worlds away. It was "interesting" transitioning back from a luxury floating hotel on the Nile to Peace Corps bungalow in Donkokrom. It was also kind of weird being in Egypt and seeing how advanced the culture was in ancient times, and then returning here to Ghana and realizing how far we have to go. But it felt good to be back home, and a refreshing change from Egypt’s culture of constant baksheesh and relentless hawkers.

John & Nancy sail the the Nile

Between Egypt and Ghana we spent a very pleasant month with Chris’s parents. It was wonderful having visitors but the time flew by very quickly. In the end, we sent John & Nancy home with some memorable moments, food for thought, a big bag of purchases, (and unfortunately giardia)!

Nancy presents a booklette created by her school kids in Iowa

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Chris’s “workshop” has become quite the popular hangout for some of the neighborhood boys. Jonas (left below) wants to be a doctor and Stephen (right) is our budding young artist.

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Chris and I have been meeting with our school administrators to identify and prioritize needs and to create action plans for meeting those needs. The top priority of the school right now is to mechanize the bore hole. (As it is now, students spend many hours of the day simply fetching water to meet basic needs. This is time that could be better spent in a learning environment).

Fetching water from the bore hole

Earlier this year we submitted a proposal asking for assistance with this (and three additional school projects) from Engineers Without Borders (EWB). We recently received good news that our proposal has passed the initial review stage and has been approved to be posted for adoption by any of the EWB chapters in the U.S. Now we could use your help with an added push. If you know anyone who is associated with this fine organization, please encourage them to consider adopting our project. We would love to see this collaboration come into fruition!

www.ewb-usa.org

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Primary project: Teaching

Primary result: Frustration!

Term II did not end on a high note

Students were cheating on their examsTeachers were allegedly being paid by the students not to noticeMany students received failing grades anyway (only 35% is required to pass)Term III did not start on a high note

Classes began more than two weeks late due to the fact that so few students and teachers bothered to reportChris and I missed the term’s first staff meeting. (As is typical the meeting was arranged less than 90 minutes before it was to take place with no written, verbal, or any other type of communication inviting us to attend).Nearly 2 weeks after classes actually resumed, the entire timetable was changed, (again WIHTOUT NOTICE). The affect of this change for me was not only a change in my scheme of work, lesson plans, and schedule but nearly 230 of my students have switched. A more significant affect was yet another week of disruption and lack learning.As one might expect, I have been spending a goodly amount of time stomping around campus, voicing my complaints to anyone who will listen, and even offering solutions. However, our Headmaster has heard little if any of it.

If I had only one word to describe our headmaster – Absent!

Chris and I have been entertaining ourselves with the fantasy of a coup. He would play headmaster and I would take over the office. We would do crazy things like planning, organizing, communicating, delegating, and making people accountable for their actions & responsibilities. Yes, crazy CRAZY thoughts!

It's hard to plan when you don't know what to expect from one day to the next. (It’s Sunday and I don’t even know who my students are or what classes I am expected to teach tomorrow).

I’ve been having dreams that I am working on various projects and as I am trying to carry them out, it all starts falling apart. It’s boring having dreams with literal meaning. Now Chris is having the same type of dreams. I much prefer the Meph induced adventure dreams.

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Secondary Projects:

Activities that have the potential of being a positive distraction from our primary frustration

I'm so excited! I just got my women's community organizing project off the ground. Another woman who teaches at DASHS and I are hitting the neighborhood, meeting and getting to know other women, and learning from each of them what is good, bad, or needs improvement in their lives. I’m not sure where this project will take us, but that’s a big part of the fun. We’ll see what bubbles to the surface and go from there. At the very least we’re making new friends and forming new alliances. My biggest highlight so far came during a planning discussion between me and my colleague when she offered “…and I will continue this project even after you return to America”. I wanted to dance around and shout “Hallelujah”! (I have learned that we need to celebrate life’s little successes).

village women

If a coup d'état is unrealistic, why not start a revolution! Chris is doing just that, complete with manifesto, in the form of his Campus Pride project. He had his second meeting yesterday with the Student Representative Council. They are brainstorming ideas on what can be done for and by the students to promote pride in our school. So far they have had some real good ideas with real good potential. And the new student president is exhibiting an incredible level of energy and leadership in mobilizing the “troops”. Hopefully the momentum will continue once the faculty advisors are brought into the picture.

Is something lurking…?

Since my class schedule and lesson plans had been all shot to shit, (another story in and of itself), I decided to do something semi-productive. I was planning to go out to buy bread. There were a few clouds in the sky keeping the sun at bay enough to make the mid-day temperature bearable for the short bike ride. So I mustered up the energy and went to the shed for my bicycle.

I unfastened the padlock, and swung open the door. As I took a few steps toward where my bike was leaning, my eyes adjusting to the dim light, and something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I knew right away it was not one of the lizards that commonly share our quarters, but something else. The figure tried to conceal itself on the far side of an old bag of cement, but its slate colored tail was still visible sticking out from behind. More curious than alarmed, I drew closer. Not only did I wish to identify this mystery creature, but it had positioned itself between me and the bike which I intended to ride. Cautiously, I took hold of a handlebar and jiggled the bike a little bit. This proved to be enough provocation for the snake to stand up and take notice. Based on the color, I was not sure what type of snake I might be looking at. But when it raised its head and spread its hood, I quickly confirmed it was a cobra. “Wow, a cobra”, I thought. “Are those stripes on its neck”? Leaning a bit closer, I confirmed that those were fine markings indeed. But when the snake responded by spitting a warning shot of venom at me (and it traveled at least as far as he was long), I decided that this little snake with a big attitude should not be toyed with. I stepped back, rattled the garage door a little bit and looked on from a safe distance as the snake slithered away to the back of the shed where it could find a nice hiding place behind all the stuff.

Ok, so I will admit now that it was only a foot long. But after the way it acted toward me I had to consider it less than friendly. (And whether it comes from a big or little cobra, a venom filled bite could cause the recipient a fair amount of physical discomfort to say the least). Chris was over at school, so before I pedaled off on my errand I sent a text message warning him of our new occupant. I did not want him or one of the visiting small boys to reach into a box of tools and come out with fang marks.

When I returned home about 30 minutes later there were seven cutlass-carrying men, including my husband, huddled around the garage. “Ut oh”, I thought. “I hope I did not come off as the damsel in distress”. As it turns out, this was not the case. “Ashanti’s fear snakes paah” the men exclaimed, which is apparently why they sent in the cavalry! As the men took turns clearing away the jumble of shed contents in search of the 12 inch threat, one man found entertainment in sneaking up behind the other and pinching the back of his leg. This made for a most animated response, or course. (The man doing most of the teasing was the one who jumped the highest when someone snuck up on him). In the end, the cobra hunters completed their mission and the snake was “removed”. Now if something can be done about those scorpions in keep showing up in Chris’s art office at school…

After a lot of the heavier blogs I felt that maybe we should take a break and do something simple.

I have always been that kind of guy that will only shoot pictures of the landscape and natural scenery but not people… until now. Since we’ve come to Ghana I can’t help it, I want to take pictures of everyone, especially the kids and I have made it into somewhat of a sport. You sneak up on them, not that the kids would catch you but that the adults would catch you and want to also be in the picture or want to “compose” the picture for you. While we were in Old Tafo during training, we happened upon two young girls, one of them with a baby doll strapped to her back. Tammi asked to take their picture (as we always do) and they were quite excited, then an adult decided the picture would be better composed if she were holding the doll. It was not. I also enjoy taking these pictures because the Ghanian people are simply beautiful.

What follows is a series of portraits and I was told to make you all aware that Tammi took all the good ones. Actually I think I can take credit for all of these...

One disclaimer: It may seem that all these people are unhappy having their pictures taken, well for some reason most Ghanaians do not smile for pictures. I have asked many time why this is but no one can really tell me why.

Enjoy:

A JHS student

Girls with additude

Playing hide n seek

Mafeekopee

Primary students marching during Independence Day celebrations

One of the neighbor kids

Village elders

It’s almost 9 months to the day that Chris and I arrived in Ghana. I’m sitting on the couch reading by “torch light” (flashlight) and Chris is in the shower room taking a bucket bath. This morning we had both running water and electricity. Tonight we do not and it’s funny how little thought we give to this set of frequent facts. We don’t even break stride. The boxed wine from the fridge is still cool and between pages of Truck A Love Story, I take a moment to squeeze some CheezWhiz (courtesy of dear friend’s care package) on a piece of bread.

Today, life is good. It’s the first time in weeks that the temperature has dropped below 80 degrees. A cool breeze is coming in from the open door and I’m loving it.

For the past several weeks the weather has been miserable. March came in like a lion, but not in the sense that a Midwesterner would conjure. It was in like a panting, sweaty, passed out under the nearest Baobab tree kind of lion. A can’t muster up enough gumption to even look at a wounded antelope, much less chase it kind of lion.

Quote of the quarter-

With the look of epiphany drawn on his face, Chris stares at me and conjectures, “I’ve never seen you sweat as much as you do here”.

“Thanks Einstein. Why the *$#^ do you suppose that is?!” I reply. My husband has moments of brilliance. This was not one of those moments.

I try to keep it as cool as possible in the house. I strategically open and close louvers and curtains, and turn ceiling fans off or on (when the electricity is working). But the last few weeks my attempts have been futile. The other night a few hours after the sun went down and the temperature started to “cool”, I checked the thermometer beside the bed as I attempted to go to sleep. It read 90.4 degrees.

Apparently when we first came here it was the “cool” time of the year. I’d go to bed wearing a t-shirt and cover up with a sheet. Now we strip off our clothes and flop on an open mattress. But trust me, there’s nothing sexy about this. It reminds me of the song lyrics “I’d like to sleep with my baby tonight, but it’s too darn hot”!

Back to Chris’ scientific observation- Maybe you have heard the adage, Women don’t sweat. They glisten. In Africa we glisten our asses off! The slightest effort and I’m dripping…no, make that streaming with sweat. Walk to the store to buy t-roll and sweat pours down my front and back. Write on the blackboard during class lecture and the sweat drips down my leg. Simply sit in a chair and watch the world go by…dare to stand up and the puddle of sweat makes it seem as though I’ve wet myself. And I’m not even what you would call a sweater! Back home I don’t perspire readily. But here the difference between breaking and sweat or not is the difference between survival and ceasing to exist! To put existentially, I exist simply. Which is to say, I simply sweat (my balls off)!

Chris celebrates one of the first cooling rains of the season

First a side note: Thanks to those of you who sent words of encouragement after my last blog entry. I never expected this to be easy, but it was good to vent a little bit anyway. Not much has changed, but my spirits are more my own again anyway. There are still many times when Chris will catch me in a mood, look sternly at me and say “Attitude”?! Then I respond, “Yes, and there is more where that came from”! But as they say here in Ghana, “We’re managing”.

Recently, I have had some email correspondence with my cousin Kelly. In her last email, she had a few questions. It occurred to me that if she has these questions, then others probably do as well. So here it is---Cousin Kelly’s Questions, Answered:

What did you guys eat yesterday?

6:15 AM-first breakfast-“Tea and Biscuits”

What this actually means is that we had coffee and cookies. The coffee was real, good, fair trade coffee that was shipped to us from the U.S. by friends and family. (Thank God for friends and family)! The only coffee available within many hours of Donkorkrom is Nescafe instant coffee. It will do in a pinch if you fluff it up with some additives, but there is nothing like the real deal. On the other hand there are several kinds of “biscuits” available here that are quite nice with coffee. Yesterday, we had Vega brand Malt’n’Milk Biscuits which are a product of India. Tomorrow we’ll likely switch it up a bit with Good Luck Crackers made in China. First three ingredients in both are wheat flour, sugar, and palm oil. (Let me take this moment to apologize to my Primary Care Physician back home in Ames; Sorry Dr. Molian, I know that a starchy diet along with palm oil is bad for my cholesterol, but my options here are very limited).

10:30 AM-second breakfast-waakye

Yesterday it was Waakye (sounds like watch-ee), from the school canteen. Waakye is a conglomeration of rice, beans, pasta, tomato paste, gari (dried & ground cassava-the texture of cornmeal), topped with two types of hot sauce and the ubiquitous red palm oil. Normally we take it topped with an optional hard-boiled egg. (Again-Sorry Dr. Molian). Think Wisconsin hot dish meets Ghanaian village.

School Canteen

Mrs. Wiredu, the Assistant Headmaster’s wife, makes a mean batch of Waakye. She prepares a big 5 gallon vat of it every school day to sell on campus. Chris has a real weakness for Mrs. Wiredu’s waakye and he typically buys it a few times per week. (At the equivalent of 45 cents for an all-you-can-eat meal we can afford for him to do this even on a volunteer salary). Assistant Headmaster, Mr. Wiredu, is a smallish man who seems a bit serious when you first meet him, but is one who quickly shows his, soft, kind, good-natured side. In contrast, Mrs. Wiredu is not small, maintains a stern front, and generally speaking is not someone who I would want to “mess with”! Two days ago, while Mrs. Wiredu was asleep on the bench behind her waakye table, Chris decided to diversify and purchased Red-Red (red beans served with fried ripe plantains) from another food lady instead of getting his usual. It was scandalous!

It was the hot topic when I stopped by the school food vendors on my way home after class. I was purchasing some fruit to bring home for our pantry and overheard some chattering between the ladies. My Twi is not good enough to catch it all, but combined with a little power of observation I was able to decipher what the gossip was about. As the ladies chided her about it, even Mrs. Wiredu could not help but to reveal the slightest Mona Lisa smirk in response to the whole situation even as she was thinking “How could he buy red red instead of my waakye?”!

Mrs. Wiredu cracks a smile 2:30 PM-snack-fruit and crackers

After a heavy second breakfast, lunch was pretty much overlooked. I think I snacked on a banana, an orange, and some Soda Milk-Salt Crackers (manufactured in Beijing). It is noteworthy to mention the fruit. There are several varieties of bananas here in Ghana. The ones we had yesterday are small. One would have to eat two or three of these bananas to amount to one of the bananas that we see in the States. But what these little guys lack in size, they make up for in flavor. These jazzy little bananas put their big brother bananas to shame.

The oranges on the other hand leave a bit to be desired. First, the color is not orange. They are more greenish-orangeish-yellow when they are ripe. (Open and orange colored orange, and it is most likely spoiled). The oranges have good flavor though. But like so many other things here in Ghana, they are thick skinned. Even the membranes dividing the inner fruit are thick and fibrous. Ghanaians consume oranges by first using a knife to shave off the outer skin down to the thick pith. Then they slice off the top of the orange and suck the good stuff out. Removing the skin makes the orange pliable enough to massage the pulp and juice up and out the top as you go. I have not mastered this technique. My attempts result in pulp all over my face and juice dripping down my elbows. So I avoid eating oranges in public. Instead, I bring them home, section them and chew out the edible parts the best I can before hosing myself down afterwards.

6:00 PM-Supper-Corned beef hash and eggs with toast (breakfast for dinner)

Canned corned beef, imported from Argentina, is readily available in our village. It makes for a tasty hash. The emaciated cows we have in Ghana do not have the easiest of lives, and the taste and texture of the beef reflects this sad story. As a big fan of red meat, I’m here to tell you that Spam is gourmet compared to “fresh” meat in my neck of the woods! From now on, I will eat steak only from happy cows who dreamed of lush green grass and grain while they slept and feasted on it while they were awake.

Potatoes are rare in Ghana. What they do have is yams-real yams. I have never seen a real yam in the U.S. What we have in the U.S. are actually sweet potatoes. Yams are huge tubers. One yam is about 10 times the size of a potato, (a long, somewhat skinny potato). There are even multiple varieties of yam. Right now water yams are in season. I don’t understand why water yams come into season during the dry, hot time of year, but apparently that is the case. Most things we do with potatoes back home can be done with a yam in Ghana. Last night we turned part of a yam into hash.

A water yam

Onions are grown here and are available year round. The onions have wonderful flavor. You may cry a river in the process of cutting one up, but they don’t taste as strongly as they jerk tears.

The eggs we ate were from guinea fowl. Up until the end of the year we had been purchasing most of our eggs from the lady at the little poultry farm just beyond the teachers’ village. When we went to buy eggs after the holidays we learned that the eggs were “finished” and that it would be several weeks before they would have more eggs. When we inquired as to why this was the case, we learned that they had sold all of their laying hens for meat over the holidays. Now it’s March. They still do not have chicken eggs, but we were able to buy a few guinea fowl eggs. That works.

In our village several women bake white bread. Sugar bread and butter bread are the most common. Tea bread, which is a little less sweet, is also often available. But lately we have not been able to find any tea bread, probably because it is our preference. (Whoops there I go with the attitude again). In order to find the exotic and illusive whole wheat variety, one must take a full day to travel over the river and through the woods (literally). So suffice it to say, that while we are thankful for our daily bread, it is most often of the standard white variety.

Normally we buy from the nice bread lady who lives just around the corner from the egg lady. When we went to her house to buy bread this week, we learned that she had traveled over the weekend to attend a funeral (attending funerals is all the rage in Ghana, but that’s a whole separate story). When she returned, she was understandably too tired to bake. So after trekking the rest of the way into town, we were able to buy bread and make toast to go with our hash.

We washed it all down with some Crystal Light (courtesy of a care package).

Our friend Stephen in front of his typical “super market”

About our diet:

Given the levels of saturated fat and starch in the above menu, you might think we are turning into a couple of Goodyear Blimps! Personally, I don’t get it. When Mom and Dad came to visit, they went on and on about how we looked. “You’re so skinny!”, “Don’t you eat?” “Are you sick?” “Do you have worms?” Mom asked. Mom’s comments slowed down shortly after we arrived at a favorite restaurant in Accra and she witnessed me pounding down three entrees in addition to sharing some appetizers and desserts. I guess she decided I was not starving myself.

A student recently backed my mother’s observation when she saw me in a family photo taken last Christmas. Upon recognizing me in the photo she exclaimed, “Madam, you were fat!” (Ahhh, kids say the darndest things). But it’s true, and to say a person is fat is akin to a compliment here in Ghana. So I found her comment really funny.

Before I came to Ghana, I was mindful of and worked hard to maintain a healthy diet. I also exercised regularly. Now I have no exercise regiment and I eat whatever I can get my hands on that sounds appetizing. As most have witnessed, I never have been a slave to fashion. But here is the real kicker- I was fat in a fashionably skinny country and now I’m “skinny” (as Mom put it) in a fashionably fat country. Figures! Oh well. When, or by the time I return to the U.S., I’m certain I’ll be fat again. But this time it will be different. I don’t think I’ll care. I have too many visions of cheese curds and red meat dancing in my head! (And maybe Dr. Molian will need my business).

Are there snakes there?

One of the standard issue items that we received while in training was a copy of West African Snakes by G.S. Cansdale. The contents include descriptions of many snakes broken down by their family groupings of python, back-fanged, cobras and mambas, vipers, and harmless snakes. There are in-depth descriptions that include everything from color, diet, scale patterns on the underbelly, mating behavior, and construction of the fangs, to snake bite treatment. The lesson that I took away from this 69 page publication is that if you can observe all of these qualities of a snake, you are most likely way too close!

I personally have seen just a few snakes – all dead. Chris says he saw a big cobra in the back yard. Luckily it was searching for an escape route. A few weeks ago on campus, some students hacked the head off of a big snake which was about the diameter for Chris’s forearm. This poor creature had been flushed from its home by the brush fires that were lapping against the walls of our school buildings. Other snakes probably took shelter underground. This snake ended up as a meal for two families.

So, yes, there are definitely snakes about. But they seem to prefer avoiding people. And that’s just fine by me.

How far do you have to walk to use the internet?

Use of the internet is a sore subject with me right now so I’ll try to be brief with my answer.

There is an internet café which is a sweltering 25 minute trek into town on a good day. The computers are crappy and the service is painfully slow, especially for the price that they charge.

Cell phones, however, are prevalent in Ghana. As a result, internet service is available through some cellular service providers-“somehow”. For a few glorious months, Chris and I were splurging for what we thought was an exorbitant luxury - internet access via my GPRS capable cell phone for 40 cedis/month (about $35). This means that we had internet access from our own home or anywhere we traveled with my cell phone and laptop in Ghana. Then one day it stopped without notice. After many arduous calls and frustrating broken English conversations I found that we can still get internet access by pre-paying at a rate of 3.005 pesua per kilobyte uploaded and downloaded. Translation – Stinking Expensive! Until (if/when) we can get something different in place (which believe me is not going to be easy to do in a developing country) we will not be doing any “surfing”, opening or forwarding those fun little emails with photo attachments, or doing anything else on line that we once took for granted.

This makes me frumpy! (I’m sure that part of the attitude that may have been detectable in my last blog entry can at least be partially attributed to this).

When you go into the "village/city" are there armed men walking around like I've heard about in other places?

I do have to admit that initially the sight of automatic weapons was a bit unnerving. We often see local police officers with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. Most times, though, you don’t see them with any weapon at all. Not even a night stick. It’s probably not in their budget. But you do see the guns often enough that you get used to it. You also get used to seeing everyone from grandmas to small children carrying machetes. It’s not unusual to see shot guns strapped to bicycles like you would see rifles in the rack of a pickup truck on a frosty Wisconsin morning. Here machetes and shot guns are typical farming tools. It’s akin to seeing farmer Smith in striped overalls with a screwdriver in his pocket.

Tammi handing out candy canes to armed officers guarding ballot boxes before the last election

Do your parents send packages or mail to you or is it impossible to receive things like that there? If so, how long does it usually take to get to you?

The postal service seems fairly reliable for things like standard letters and cards. In fact, Mom reported sending out a few Valentines, and we apparently received ours before Uncle Bill got his! Regular mail is delivered to us via the school where we teach. It practically comes to our doorstep! Anything bigger than your standard letter, however, is a bit trickier and more expensive.

Some friends and family have sent care packages, (bless their hearts). I think that priority mail reaches the post office in Accra in about 2-3 weeks time. We have a perfect track record so far in that all packages sent have been received (and very few bribes have been paid). Due to customs crap, however, we have to travel at least one full day to retrieve packages. It’s not an easy routine so we combine it with other travel tasks and typically are able to pick things up about every 6 weeks or so. (As you can deduce, sending anything a bit perishable is out of the question).

There is actually a FedEx office in Donkorkrom! It cracks me up and makes me think of Tom Hanks in the movie Castaway. One might have to take out a second mortgage to ship something here FedEx but it has been done. Somehow it gets through the customs process without us having to be there in person and comes right to the house strapped to the back of a “motto” (motor bike). It’s a beautiful thing!

It's great to hear about your adventure! (Better yours than mine)

It’s great to hear from you to, Kelly. Not only do I think that others share your questions, but some likely share your sentiment as well :)

Teachers at Ghanaian schools are referred to as Masters. As a woman teacher I am referred to as Madam.

I am Madam Martin. I am also Madam Tammi, Madam Iowa, Madam Adwoa (my Ghanaian name based on the day of the week I was born), Madam Toffee (because I have been known to reward students with candy) and Obruni (because I am white). I am more appreciative of some names than others. Students use the first four to address me in class or playfully great me on campus. On campus, I refuse to respond to the last one.

Madam Martin is uncertain that she should be attempting to teach at all. This is not due to the seemingly insurmountable circumstances that my mother made reference to in the previous blog entry. Poor facilities, lack of equipment and supplies, etc. –those are just things. My reasons are more personal and my feelings about it swing like a pendulum. I wonder if Ghana is making me bi-polar. Take for instance last Monday.

It’s nearing 7a.m. and I’m 1 of 2 “Master’s on Duty” this week, so I head across the street for morning assembly. (I am supposed to be a lot of places as Master on Duty, but what exactly I am supposed to accomplish by being at these places eludes me). For assembly we all stand outside. The students stand in sections, more or less in rows, based on which year they are. Many students filter in late, and many more are presumably absent altogether. After listening to the school song, the pledge, a few announcements and a few reprimands from the Senior Housemaster, the 7:20 a.m. bell sounds and it’s time for the first period to begin.

This morning I meet with my Form II (second year) business track students. My objective is to review the End of Term I exam so that all of the students understand the correct answers before we delve into new subject matter. (This is something that I really appreciated as a student and something that I think will interest the students.)

I do my best to engage the class. But I soon find that I am no competition for the distractions of other students wandering outside the windows, classmates inside the classroom chattering with one another after being apart for 3 weeks, or the multitude of students who wander and out of the class late. (There are no hall monitors or passes. In fact, there are no hallways). After about 35 minutes, having had enough of the teenage attitude; I clench my jaw, write a homework assignment on the blackboard, calmly announce that this is a waste of time, pack up my things and walk out of the room leaving the students to their own devices. Unfortunately this is not the first time that I, (or other teachers), have done this. And unfortunately it is not unusual for classes to be without teachers for all kinds of reasons. After being here for one term I find that it is more shocking when I walk by a classroom block in the middle of a period and see that almost every class has a teacher in it, than it is to walk by the classrooms and see that there are no instructors.

So anyway, I tramp away thinking: “This is a bunch of crap. I don’t know why I was assigned to do this anyway. Of all the things that I actually have to offer the Peace Corps, why did they ask me to teach?! I have no formal teaching experience, no teacher’s education, no kids of my own, (or any interest in having kids of my own), and I only deem myself to have basic computer literacy! So why on earth I am here trying to teach ICT to 55 uninterested teenagers? This is CRAZY”!

I pace about campus busying myself with various things until the 8:40-9:10 breakfast break. As Master on Duty I’m supposed to check up on the kitchen to make sure that food is prepared for the boarding students and see that the students are “taking” (eating) their breakfast. What I’m supposed to do if this is not happening, I have no idea! But I go through the motions for good measure.

My second class begins after the break. I am scheduled to meet with my Form I (first year) students. I consider this chalkboard lesson on basic software to be dry and boring. But the students are engaged and responsive. They even seem to be learning something and enjoying it! At the end of the 80 minute session, I leave the classroom thinking, “I totally rock! I am the best teacher ever."

So as you can see, this ride on the pendulum is a bit extreme. But I think that my pendulum may be leaning to one side. Maybe it’s the weather.

It’s hot! I stated on my application and in an interview with the Peace Corps that I do not function very well in hot weather especially when there is no relief in sight. So…now I am in Africa. I keep our bungalow as cool as possible via my strict heat management program. This means that I open and close the louvers and curtains at various times to keep the hotter air out and the cooler air in the best I can. By doing this, I am able to keep our bedroom at least 10 degrees cooler than the outside temp during the day. When I went to bed last night it was 88 degrees in the bedroom. It was nearly dawn before the temp “cooled” to 81 and then the sun started coming round to heat things up again.

Seriously though, I am very happy to be in Africa. I truly think it is great, (albeit there are cooler places in Africa where we could be). But if I were serving on another continent, I would surely be thinking, “I wonder what it’s like in Africa? I want to go there”.

Many of my co-volunteers are here to gain teaching experience. When they return home they plan to either start or resume careers in teaching or something closely related. When they describe their trials and tribulations, I hear them say things like, “The education system is messed up, but I love the kids”. I must admit that sometimes I find the students quite appealing. On an individual basis, I’d even venture to say that I like and enjoy nearly every one of them. But when you stick them in a dysfunctional institution and pack them together in a classroom, it seems to me that they somehow become sub-human. There also appears to be an undocumented rule regarding the teacher/student relationship. Apparently there is some kind of game whereby the student’s have the mission of cheating and tricking, and the teacher has the mission of catching and beating. This does not work for me. Homey don’t play that game! So what am I to do?

Take my most recent dilemma for one example: All students take end of term exams. At least 70% of their grade is dependent on this exam. While one of my classes was taking the recent ICT term exam, the senior master who was invigilating went around to each student to check their fee card. If the student had not paid their school fees (or failed to produce evidence that he/she had paid), he pulled their exam and sent them out. Eight of my students were sent out, and as a result they had to receive a zero for their test score.

To me, this seems completely unfair. Even if the fees have not been paid it is an entirely separate issue from the students’ knowledge of the subject matter. So I stuck my neck out for them. After multiple discussions with the Academic Headmaster, I decided to do two things. First, I made a promise to the students that this will never happen again. At the very least not while I’m around. (I’m sure that there will be some “interesting” staff meetings prior to the term II exams as a result). Second, because changing the term I grades was not an option, I provided another opportunity for the affected students. If they wished, they could choose 1 of 2 assignments to complete. If they performed very well, I would add up to 30% to their second term exam scores. Ample time was given so as not to interfere with other class work.

This week, 6 of 8 students opted to hand in the assignment more or less on time. Five of those students chose the option of interviewing a person in the community who has a career that is associated with ICT. Unfortunately I found that not only are most of the reports generally lacking effort, but few students, (if any at all), actually spoke to a real person! I handed them a special opportunity. They handed me a pile of bull #%$@!

It is times like these that really make me doubt why I am trying to do this at all.

I spend a lot of time laboring over lesson plans, (probably too much), trying to foresee every potential problem and playing out what-if scenarios so I am ready to flex the plan and flow with the students’ needs as the lesson progresses. So when things like this happen I can’t help but to think that instead I could be spending time working on other projects. I fantasize about small enterprise development, community action, and eco tourism projects. I fantasize about collaboration with NGO’s, funding sources, and how together we could tap into the great potential of Afram Plains.

Unfortunately I do not believe the Peace Corps is as flexible as my belabored lesson plans. My primary assignment is teaching (this is my mission, which I chose to accept). So far I have not self-destructed. I still go to bed at night with hope for tomorrow. And I still wake up in the morning ready to give it another shot. But the swing of the pendulum is uncertain. And I’m not sure how long the momentum will last.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be a fly on the wall…?

Here is your chance. Following is an email that my mom sent out to a few friends and family just after arriving home from visiting here. The previous blog entry was “authorized”. We’ll simply call this one “the rest of the story”. To lighten things up a little, I have added an email that I sent home just after my parents’ departure. Hope you enjoy it!

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(21 Jan 2009)

There are lots of things you CAN'T tell about a school by visiting an empty campus. Wish we could have been there when classes were in session but, after seeing DASHS and visiting with Tammi and Chris, we'd like to share our impressions about their primary job assignment.

DASHS is an agricultural high school so the campus is large. We saw no ag projects but some of the teachers who live on campus have plots which supplement their income.

There are seven educational buildings and all are either unfinished or in need of repair. One of the things I noticed in a pretrip perusal of the guidebook is the frequency of the word "crumbling." In the tropical climate buildings which aren't constantly cared for crumble.

The only furnishing in most of the rooms is a chalk board made from plywood painted black with "cooked" batteries. The school supposedly has a small library but it's in storage (part of the refurbishment process).

The proposed computer lab is in an unfinished building. The present lab has eight computers operable to some degree. There are no window screens and the ceiling fan doesn't work. The air entering the room during the present dry season is smoky and dirty; during the wet season it will be extremely damp, both conditions bad news for computers and uncomfortable for teacher and students.

Tammi in front of future computer lab

The dining/assembly building has a powdery dirt floor and sheep, goats and chickens were wandering around inside. They'll be ejected when classes start but meanwhile feces is being mixed with the dust. There's an outdoor kitchen and a tin-roofed, open eating area for day students. Sanitary facilities are bucket showers and pit toilets. Piles of trash are scattered about campus.

Inside the dining/assembly hall during term break

Curriculum is set by the Ghanaian school system. The school doesn't have the equipment for all the visual arts units Chris is supposed to teach but his class sizes are small and he can substitute for what's lacking.

Tammi's assignment is to take classes of 40-60 students with limited English language skills and no keyboarding experience and turn out students proficient in MS Word, Power Point and Excel. Sound a little difficult? To me, it's pie-in-the-sky. She says most of her students, if asked their goals for computer training, would like to become knowledgeable on the internet to send out SPAM. In their defense, we didn't notice a lot of possibility for computer jobs in Donkorkrom and vicinity, which is as far as most of these students have been.

A passing grade is 35 percent. By the time some of the families scraped up tuition for the fall semester the students were so late in arriving that there was no possibility of passing. During Tammi's finals testing a proctor entered the room and removed tests from students because of unpaid fees. Hopefully, Tammi will find a way to alleviate that situation.

Students aren't alone in high absenteeism. Teachers fail to report to classes, sometimes for a couple weeks at a time, leaving students sitting in an empty classroom; there are no substitute instructors.

How do you measure success? None of us knows what we do that makes a difference in others' lives, either good or bad. In my opinion, though, Tammi is forced to set her own goals because the classroom goals she's given are impossible. Already she's faced co-ed classes (as has Chris), shown them both male and female condoms and talked to them about HIV/AIDS, probably their first sex education.

If Chris and Tammi can initiate clean-up projects which would in turn foster pride it would be a big step forward. Supposedly funds have been earmarked for building construction, renovation and new computers. Where are the contractors? Where are the computers? They're Ghana get it done...maybe...in their own good time.

Sound pessimistic? At the very least, we suffered culture shock.

Venturing into the community, however, was lots of fun. It's a short walk into town and interacting with residents at street level is an opportunity typical tourists seldom enjoy. The word akwaaba (welcome) characterizes the country. We heard it frequently as folks came across the road to shake hands and bid us good day. They seemed to get a kick out of exchanging courtesies in Twi with Tammi and Chris, who comprise two-thirds of the abruni (white) population of Donkorkrom (a Dutch nun completes the trio).

As we get caught up on chores at the Thirsty Horse I'll probably put fingers to keyboard to record more general impressions about Ghana. One thing about receiving them via e-mail, you're not a captive audience.

Later,

Marlene & Don

School “Kitchen”

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Hello from Ghana! (19 Jan 2009)

It was really luxurious having private transportation home from Accra. (We missed the ferry by just a few minutes which added about 3 hours to our journey but it all turned out fine). We were happy to arrive at home with our purchases and perishable groceries in fine condition. We got the yogurt in the fridge, the meats in the freezer, and most of our things unpacked before the power went out. Our spirits started to drop as the temp in our little fridge started to rise. We were still without power nearly 48 hours later when we started implementing our plan:

We prepared and ate as much meat as we could and I cooked the rest to extend its shelf life. We devised a low-tech evaporative system that we thought should work fairly well since right now the nights are cool and the air is dry. We decided to put the cooked meat in zip-lock bags, suck the air out, and wrap the bags in damp towels. We would then use our battery powered "nurf" style personal fan (a purchase that Terri highly recommended) to circulate the air around the meat and hopefully cool it enough to inhibit the meat from spoiling too rapidly. (I also decided that it would not be a bad idea to pray about it). Genius, right?!!

Well, while the meat was cooling and as we were trying to figure out how to "dry" our yogurt to preserve the live cultures for future use, the electricity came back!

1 Kilo of sausage- $ 7

Car, driver and gas for private transport-$230

Eating good meat for dinner at the end of the day in a developing country-PRICELESS!

As far as how school is going, students were scheduled to return to school last Thursday. Chris and I reported to morning assembly on Monday. We were the only ones who reported. Classes "somehow" resumed yesterday.

The headmaster was here for a day before he traveled again. He's back now though. We got in a little conversation in the yard between comings and goings though. We seem to have a lot of the same ideas for improving this school. So if we can get some commitment and follow through maybe...just maybe something will get accomplished.

Hope you are quickly recovering from your journey. I know that things could have gone a little more smoothly. But then it probably would have given you the wrong idea about life in Ghana.

t.

GOING TO SEE THE KIDS—that’s what geezers and geezerettes do, but our kids have made it an eXtreme sport. First our eldest daughter, Terri, and her family moved to Budapest for three years so it was off to Europe. As they were packing to return to the U.S., Tammi and Chris took off for Ghana. We’re starting to feel like Amazing Race contestants.

“Going To See The Kids” involves certain things. You’re installed in the guest room, you go out to eat together, take in the local sights and maybe meet the neighbors. Same in Ghana…well, sort of.

Ghana Gothic

Tammi and Chris’s new digs are pleasant enough—a two-bedroom apartment attached to the high school headmaster’s home, a nice yard…except the yard is surrounded by a high fence with a built-in guardhouse manned 24 hours a day to remind them that, though they make about $5 per day on Peace Corps salary, they’re among the elite in Donkorkrom and their possessions may be coveted. There’s a goat pen in the corner of the yard where table scraps are disposed of and cashew and lime trees, not exactly common in Ames, Iowa.

Don helping out with the chores

The house has electricity and running water—at least most of the time. The electricity cut out only twice momentarily during our stay but when Tammi and Chris returned home bearing sausages after seeing us off they had an anxious two days trying to preserve their rare treat without refrigeration. The electricity is also really nice to have because it runs the ceiling fans, providing cooling in this sweltering climate.

Our stay was during the dry season so I quickly learned to shower first thing in the morning, when the water was most likely to be running. When it wasn’t you could still shower and flush the toilet by getting a bucketful of water from a barrel in the kitchen or shower.

In tourist areas of Ghana restaurant dining can be pretty ordinary if you order off the continental menu—you just have to remember that chips are fries. In Donkorkrom there ARE no tourists, hence no tourist menu, but there are several places to eat out.

The first thing I noticed when we were seated at one of the local establishments is that there was a squeeze bottle resembling dishwashing liquid on the table. The waitress brought individual wash basins and towels, substituting for the lack of restroom facilities. The menu for the day consisted of rice, light soup and chicken. We each ordered all three. The chicken went in the light soup, a spicy, tomato-flavored broth, and the rice came alongside.

The next day we tried patio dining at a spiffy new restaurant/bar/guest house. This time instead of the chicken we each ordered grass-cutter, the most popular bush meat (probably because it’s about the only one available). The Ghanaians can’t afford to be finicky so our serving of grass-cutter (otherwise known as cane rat) included skin (remarkably thick and chewy) and tail (toothpick-size bones). It’s never going to earn a place on the menu at Hickory Park. To add insult to injury the kids made us try fufu which is basically a large goo ball made of cooked cassava and plantain served at the bottom of the bowl of soup.

After that, the kids seemed to realize that the geezers wouldn’t survive long on restaurant fare and, besides, their Peace Corps salary doesn’t allow such extravagance on a regular basis. They’ve adjusted local specialties to the western palate and their home cooking suited us better but it’s not like whipping up a bite in a hurry.

Chris grinds the coffee with a pestle (only Nescafe is available locally). He also roasts ground nuts (peanuts) and makes their own peanut butter. An all-purpose condiment is shitto, a spicy homemade red sauce. My personal favorite and the dish I’ll attempt to fix at home is kelewele, which is made with plantains flavored with lime juice, fresh ginger and pepe, Ghana’s version of cayenne.

Although we saw beautiful vegetables and fresh fruit in markets as we traveled around the country, Donkorkrom’s dry climate apparently doesn’t produce them in abundance. Carrots were more expensive than in our super markets and not nearly as nice. Tomatoes were tasty but small. Greens aren’t much in evidence. Meat is a luxury Tammi and Chris can’t often afford and when they do splurge choices are limited. The meat shop butchers one animal a day so if you’re hungry for goat on a beef day, you’re out of luck. Signs which say “cold store” mean they have freezer food. The kids went all out and bought four chicken fryer quarters. After two hours of cooking, Chris’s and my chicken fell off the bones. Don and Tammi couldn’t gnaw theirs off. After another two hours on the stove it made a flavorful addition to the next day’s pasta salad.

One of those "special" mother-daughter experiences

Clothes are washed in tubs, wrung out by hand and hung on the clothesline to dry. A broom with no handle substitutes for a vacuum cleaner. For entertainment there’s a small TV and one government channel with poor reception. Entertainment is provided by the ipod or pirated DVDs, which are available locally. Without labor-saving devices, entertainment isn’t such a priority.

The Martins see lots more of their neighbors now. Instead of waving as your cars pass, you have time to visit as you meet on the road. Greetings are more prolonged. Though Tammi and Chris’s knowledge of Twi doesn’t allow for involved conversations, the locals seem to get a kick out of exchanging pleasantries.

Neighborly gestures seem more meaningful in a subsistence economy. When we were introduced to a shopkeeper he gave Don and I each a one-liter bottle of water. We stopped to admire the yams a neighbor was bringing in from his farm plot to sell in the local market and he gave us one big enough for a meal. We went to visit a member of the school’s art department faculty and were accompanied home by his daughters carrying a picnic basket with our dinner already prepared. When the paw paws (papaya) ripened, quantities appeared at the door, lots like zucchini does in Iowa.

We’re glad we went to see the kids. It costs lots more and it’s way more uncomfortable than going from Colorado to Iowa and back but you can’t put a value on time together. We’re glad we got to see where and how they lived and to go road tripping together to see Ghana up close and personal.

We’re going to be happy too when they’re back home in Iowa. Waiter, make mine a saucy southerner and a peppermint patty sundae.

Happy New Year!

A lot has been going on and as a result we have fallen behind on the blog. We have many topics in the works though. You can look for "About Food", “About Bathrooms”, “About Transportation”, “The Truth about the Ghana Education System”, “A Baboon Soiled my Panties” and others in the near future. In the mean time you will find questions and answers from a recent interview with a writer from the Ames Tribune. The resulting article "ISU couple serving Peace Corp in Ghana" by Kathy Hanson was printed in Special to The Tribune on 28 December 2008.

Exploring Ghana with Mom & Dad over Christmas break

The interview:

Q: I read Teddi Barron's story, written before you left. Now I wonder if some of the ideas you had for re-integrating this experience with your life and careers are gelling in a different way, or has the experience reinforced them?

Tammi’s Response: For the most part I think my ideas are being reinforced, but probably not in the same way(s) that I might have imagined they would be. However, I think it’s probably too soon to tell.

Chris’s Response: I would agree with Tammi I think it is too early to tell but; I was just thinking tonight as we were out for an evening walk how my concept of poverty has changed. The people here who seem to be doing “ok” in the states would be considered to be living in abject poverty. While the ones that are barely getting by are so far beyond anything I could have conceived 6 months ago. Again even with such insurmountable obstacles to simply live they still find joy in life. Another thought; We were talking about working with farmers to plant more sustainable crops & how difficult it is to convince them to think long term instead of just for tomorrow. I realized that for them to take a chance on a new idea and have it fail can literally be the difference between life & death.

Q: Do you feel connected to the news here, or does it feel abstract and far away?

Chris’s Response: A lot of it does feel quite far away. The financial thing especially because the people in Afram Plains are so far removed from any effects here and I don’t think that is a bad thing. In a way it supports the concept of return to the commons which is the system that we pretty much live in where we are. There is the baker, the butcher & the farmers raising various crops & they greatly depend on each other. Everyone is needed to make the community run. With that, we have seen the prices of a lot of the food go up at the market, though I don’t know if they are related. I think that Accra has been affected at a higher level because it is more closely connected to the western world.

Tammi’s Response: I think that it depends on the type of news item and the filters it sifts through. I am referring to both my own filters and those filters that are imposed by our distant location. For instance, I am aware of the financial crisis, but am happy to mentally keep it at arm’s length. On the other hand I felt starved for news when election time drew near.

It’s absolutely amazing how much media we have at our disposal in America! Here in Ghana we can only regularly view one (struggling to appear professional) television channel, and rarely attempt tuning in to one of the two radio stations with semi-ok reception. There are two Ghanaian national newspapers that reach our area almost daily and once they have arrived here they are already about a day old. But they do offer a few of the international headlines.

Print materials are incredibly expensive here. I’m not what one would call an avid reader but I am a big fan of book stores. Before moving here I never could have fathomed how beautiful and incredible American book stores and libraries are! There are more print materials available in Ames than there is an all of Ghana! Seriously! You can probably count the number of book stores in this country on your own fingers. And not even one of those stores offers the quality of content you can find in your typical chain store in Ames. Print materials are simply out of reach financially for most people here. The daily newspaper costs about 70 cents (a splurge for most Ghanaians) and one issue of National Geographic goes for over $20.00!

Unlike your typical Peace Corps volunteer (or Ghanaian), Chris and I have the luxury of internet access. We’re not talking about high-speed broadband here, but at least we HAVE it! It feels like a lifeline for our connection with the outside world. Via our cell phone GPRS connection we can catch most of the BBC headlines (as our reception blips in and out). We are even able listen to WOI streaming fairly regularly which is a real treat.

Q: Being conscientious in terms of supporting fair trade, personally adopting sustainable practices, etc, can seem like lofty ideas suitable for satire on blogs like "Things White People Like." How do you feel about these things now that you're among people who live at a subsistence level?

Tammi’s Response: More than ever, I feel that the principles of fair trade are attainable. During my 5 year tenure as store manager at Worldly Goods, I felt it was my duty to test the validity of fair trade. I was very fortunate to have had the opportunity to participate in two learning tours where I traveled to 4 different developing countries to meet fair trade artisans and see first-hand if the work that we were doing was worthwhile. Those experiences reaffirmed my notion but my current situation really drives the point home! Maybe it’s because I tend to look at things from a logistical point of view. Being here at the grass roots level helps me to better visualize how the process should and can work from this standpoint. I truly believe that fair trade is sustainable. But those who live life at the subsistence level are most vulnerable (and susceptible) to practices that are short-sighted. I think the biggest pie in the sky hurdle to overcome is Man’s tendency to fall into the greed trap, (which I believe is also one of the big reasons behind the current financial crisis in the U.S.).

Chris’s Response: One of the bigger problems on Afram Plains is the production of charcoal. Many of the farmers in addition to sustenance farming will cut trees down to make charcoal. They will sell a large sack (50lbs+ or -) to a middle man for 1 or 2 cedis and he will in turn sell that sack for 8+ cedis. This is exactly why fair trade is not only good but a necessary system. The people here are seeing their environment slowly destroyed as they continue to work very hard for such a pittance. Many of the rural farmers see little other choice and they need to be presented alternatives, support, training, and follow-up. Often they will get one of these but rarely all of them. Sustainability in all phases is the important thing.

Q: Are you celebrating the holidays? If so, how?

Tammi’s Response: It has felt so strange approaching the holidays this year. Catching the tune of an occasional Christmas song, or seeing a glimpse of a holiday decoration, makes me think “That’s odd”, as I wipe the sweat from my brow. “The holidays are so far away”. And then I realize the date and think “yikes”, it sure doesn’t feel like that time of year!

We attended dinner at the U.S. Ambassador’s house for Thanksgiving. That was a real treat. As far as Christmas, there is a group of ISU Ag students coming to Ghana over the break and we plan to meet up with them on Christmas Eve or day to share a meal or something. The big treat is that my mom and dad are flying in Christmas night. Maybe it will actually seem like Christmas when mom unpacks a few homemade Christmas cookies! We plan to show my parents around our home area and then travel and explore Ghana together, see the sights, and learn what we can from the tourist perspective.

We feel quite bad for many of our fellow Peace Corps volunteers. Due to the run-off elections to be held in Ghana on Dec 28, we are being put on “stand fast” for security reasons. This means that we are not allowed to leave our sites and most volunteers will have to be alone on both Christmas and New Years, which will make being away from home even more difficult.

Chris’s Response: As far as how they do it here; there are not Christmas trees and it seems like it will be celebratory but on a more somber level. Christmas has not been commercialized here yet, but I’m sure in the near future… We were in town shopping the other day and say a few of the typical trappings for sale in one of the shops. We were in Accra over Thanksgiving and saw a great deal of the Christmas schlock. As I understand it families will not exchange gifts on Christmas but rather on Boxing Day (the 26th) they may exchange one or two small gifts with the children getting the lion’s share.

We attended our school’s Christmas ceremony on Wednesday. It lasted almost 3 hours and included many bible readings which I wondered how many of them related to the Christmas story. It also included songs from various choirs and many instances of spontaneous and spirited song and dance by the student body and faculty.

Q: Are loved ones and friends staying in touch with you?

Tammi’s Response: We are able to keep in touch fairly well with many of our friends and family due to our access to email. We feel very fortunate to be Peace Corps volunteers in this place at this time. Those volunteers that came before us as well as many who are out there right now do not have the luxuries of communication that we do. Phone reception can be touch and go and can also get expensive, but the occasional text message can brighten one’s day. Who would have thought that it would take moving to a developing country for Chris and me to finally break down and get our own cell phones and wireless internet access?!

Chris’s Response: They are staying in touch and to be honest it is pretty important to me. We are in a very “alien” place to what we are use to and it is so nice to be able to “touch base” with what & who is familiar or comfortable to us. It is always good to hear from anyone. I have just recently been realizing how different Ames, Iowa, and America is going to be upon our return. Not just because of how we will look at things after our experience here but also with all the changes on all levels, many for the good & some for the not so good. The university will physically be quite different & I’m sure that it will be a very interesting readjustment to teaching there again.

Q: What's the most surprising thing you've learned about teaching in a different culture?

Tammi’s Response: Unlike Chris, this is my first time “formally” teaching. A few years ago if someone would have told me that I would be teaching Information and Communications Technology in Africa to classrooms packed with high school students, I would have brushed them off and laughed hysterically in disbelief! Now I’m not quite sure what to think!

Chris’s Response: Well the first thing I would say is that we don’t have it near as bad as we think in the states. The system here (how can I say this tactfully) could stand some reworking. There are a LOT of issues that I could rant about but I don’t want to do that on the record. As far as teaching, I hear this from all the other education volunteers and I concur; I love my students but the system drives me nuts. They are much like students in the states, one day you think they are great the next you’re ready to strangle them.

There are also the obvious things, we have to talk slower (difficult for me) and constantly making sure they are understand you. We also continue to develop our Ghanaian English; English with the accents placed differently than what we are use to. It also involves a bit of an accent. We have adopted some Ghanaian phrases such as “I am coming” which translates as “I’ll be right back” and instead of saying “fetch that for me” you would say “fetch dis ting” or one of my favorites; instead of “little” you would say “small small.” There are also several hand gestures (only one rude one and you would never want to use it) that we have acquired. Most importantly I would say is we have learned to annunciate far better than what we are use to. You can’t be lazy with your speech.

One thing that I used to pride myself on was a fairly decent ability to multi-task. Occasionally I might even have a temporary moment of brilliance juggling several different tasks at once like a well-oiled machine. Then I moved to Ghana.

Last week we attended an all-volunteer conference. It was a great opportunity to talk to fellow volunteers, share ideas, successes and hardships. In one conversation I had, I mentioned to a more seasoned colleague that I seem to have lost my ability to multi-task. In fact, I find it difficult to concentrate on even one thing! She came back with what I hope is a very valid point. “Are you sure you have lost it”, she asked? “Chances are good that you ARE multi-tasking, even when you do not realize it”. She went on to point out that things that were previously “routine” may require a great deal of cognitive attention now. Those issues of culture, language, environment, etc. affect our everyday decision making abilities. And even though they are slipping to the background as I make the adjustment to my volunteer life here, they are still factors.

I am hoping she is right. Especially since I have a trip to plan, have hundreds of student grades to mark, have a house to clean…

Tammi and Chris with their dates to the unofficial Peace Corps Prom

Theme “Ghana Fabulous!”

It’s something that really needs to be discussed, but I am in NO MOOD to broach the topic of the education system in Ghana. Instead I will present a different distraction for the day…

A moment of attentiveness in my temporary Form I ICT classroom

I realize that it’s now cold and wintery for most of you who are reading this. But you know that feeling you sometimes get when you are outside on a hot August day doing some gardening or are out for a brisk walk? I’m talking about that faint but obvious tickle in your shirt or on the back of your neck-one that makes you wonder “Is that really a bead of sweat dripping down my chest or could it be some multi-legged creature traveling to places where it has not been invited”? Here in Ghana I get this sensation repeatedly day in and day out. And I have found that the answer to that question is most often “yes”. Yes, it is a trail of sweat. And, yes, that is a bug--squish!

Some cool bugs that were thankfully NOT found in my shirt!

When it is not sweat &/or a bug, my own hair seems to be the culprit. Several weeks after moving here, my hair started driving me crazy. It was everywhere! It accumulated at an alarming rate in the shower drain, the sofa, the floor, etc. I felt as if my late, Great Pyrenees was teasing me from the doggy heaven beyond. He was saying, “See. It’s no fun to shed so profusely that you can create multiple small, fuzzy, creatures from what you have left behind”. But also like the coat on my beloved dog, it seemed that the amount of hair on my head did not dwindle. I have noticed some seasonal shedding back in the States but this was ridiculous. If my body was trying to cool itself down by alleviating some coverage, it was not working. You just can’t beat the African heat.

Look closely for the bug in the second phtoto. He is very, very clever.

At this point the shedding hair has slowed down significantly. I don’t know if it was a seasonal weather thing, a stress thing (volunteers endure a lot of stress, but I don’t think my stress level is coinciding with my shed rate), if my hair is growing at a much faster rate in this climate, or if the most likely candidate was my shampoo. After a trip where I splurged on some American brand shampoo made for white person hair types, the situation seems to be under control. But even with a full head of hair that sensation continues. So I’m making a little game of it. Instead of playing “Rocks, Paper, Scissors”, my game will be “Bugs, Hair or Sweat Drips”. And I’m sure I will guess it right at least 1/3 of the time!

What do we mean when we talk about perspective? I would define it as how I view things around me in relation to what I am accustomed to. Will I see and react to things in the same way when I return to my life in the states? Absolutely! How could I not? But to what extent I don’t know. Tammi & I had a conversation about just this recently and we came to a couple of conclusions.

First, as you all have ascertained from our blog entries, we do live a much “simpler” life in many ways and we are surrounded by people living even more simply then what we are use to. The phrase “hand to mouth” takes on its true meaning here. I can never deny that we live much better than most the people around us but our lives are quite different/ simpler than what we had in the states. Much of the change I see as for the better; No credit cards to deal with, no house or car payments to worry about, no car to fuel or drive, no crazy meeting schedules (we are informed of most meetings we have here about 2 hours ahead), and no need to keep up with the Joneses. Sadly, we are the Joneses. There are so fewer trappings here and the people here, as with the rest of the developing world, equate trappings with wealth which they in turn equate with happiness. I would agree with them on the first two points but I beg to differ on the happiness issue. But that is a discussion for a different time. I have had numerous conversations about this issue with my students and I hope to get through to them at least a little. Then again, who am I to deny them what I already have in abundance?

Chris teaching his students graphic Design

It is true that the whole conversation is hypocritical on a lot of levels. And that leads into what I really want to discuss: how will we choose to live upon our return to the states? I find it hard to believe that I won’t be affected by what I experienced after living two years in Africa when I am making decisions on which bottle of wine to buy, the $15 or the $25 one, both extravagant. Or do I really need that new pair of shoes even though the pair I have is fine?

A quiet day at Kumasi's central market

Will we live more simply? I would love to say yes. In many ways I am sure we will, but in other ways…it’s just too easy not to and admittedly I’m weak. We all have become overly comfortable with our positions in society and the world and it is really easy to remain that way. Presently Tammi & I live in West Africa, our access to the conveniences and comforts we have grown accustomed to have been greatly reduced. I really miss air conditioning. But we still do very well in perspective. Peace Corps gives us a monthly stipend and expects us to live at the same level as the people around us but they are realistic and know that most Americans couldn’t do that. We stick to the stipend and it is plenty enough to feed, cloth, and house us, but it allots us very little latitude for luxury. This is where Tammi & I are different from most of our fellow PCVs, and believe me there is no small amount of guilt attached. I am on sabbatical from university, and with that is the comfort in knowing that my salary is there just in case we “need” a bit of luxury (even though the money is difficult to get and the luxury is hard to come by here).

We will live more simply in many ways but... I see a couple of scenarios; the first, we return and book trips to Vegas, Disney World, and any other place that is a cliché example of American over indulgence while eating a McDonalds quarter pounder or a piece of pizza. The second scenario is we return and deny all the luxuries, ride the bus or bike and become completely altruistic giving our time and money to various causes while living a very simple life. I think what will really happen is somewhere in between. The first scenario is possible after being denied luxuries for 2 years I will feel compelled to indulge to the extreme. The question is; how much self discipline have I gained? Eventually I will work it out of my system and settle into a simpler life. The second scenario will happen, but again perhaps not to the extreme. I do expect to return and take a more active role in causes I strongly believe in. If nothing else, what I have gotten with my PC experience so far is an understanding of what is really important and what’s BS. I am coming to realize how much BS we proliferate in the states and how little of it is really necessary. I might complain about the system here but the one thing it has going for is that it is straight forward. They seem to run into problems when they try to be more western (try to complicate things) and it just doesn’t work.

One thing I hope happens upon our return is that we are far less dependent on all the trappings we have become accustomed to. Do we really need two vehicles or a bigger house? What about all those kitchen appliances? We don’t have a toaster, a blender, food processor, or coffee maker here. We don’t even have a can opener! The Leatherman becomes very necessary here. We have no appliances and we are making some of the best tomato sauces I have ever tasted (trust me it is not due to the “fresh” produce acquired here). The lack of kitchen gadgets and preprocessed foods has forced us to improvise and be creative with our cooking. We strained coffee through a bandana before we got our French press. We grind various things in an iowa; grinding bowl (see automatic coffee grinder picture in 1st blog). It serves as a perfectly adequate food processor/blender though it would be difficult to make a margarita in it. I have taken to making chunky peanut butter; I buy raw ground nuts roast them on the stove add a bit of salt & sugar and grind away. It is the best peanut butter we’ve ever had. I have come to thoroughly enjoy chopping onions & garlic which we seem to use in practically every meal. I do miss a quality chef’s knife though.

All sorts of critters

We have been told numerous times that readjusting to the US is often more difficult than adjusting to your host country. It has everything to do with perspective. Those who have traveled and spent a goodly amount of time in another culture especially one very different than ours, see that there are different ways to live. There are different customs, different ways of doing things, different ways of looking at things, and no single way is always the right one. We cooked what we felt a very “American” meal of hotdogs and mac &cheez for our home stay family. They loved the hotdogs but hated the mac & cheez. In most parts of Ghana, the idea of drawing milk from an animal’s mammary glands is strange enough, let alone letting it ferment to be turned into cheese. At the same time I can’t understand why they would let corn meal ferment in water so it is sour and stinky, but they love it. The phrase “To each their own” seems pertinent here.

It has been said many times before that if everyone in the world could walk in the shoes of their enemies for just a day… Especially at this point in our history it is so important for everyone to better understand how others live, to gain a broader perspective. We can get a feel for what it is like to live in Ghana but we can never ever TRULY understand what it is like to live AS a Ghanaian. With the profoundly spoiled status I have been given as a white American male, I simply and knowingly couldn’t hack living as most do here. I understand that and it humbles me. It also gives me profound respect for the people here. In the end, I pray it helps me to be less selfish and I hope to be more sympathetic and understanding of the people and things around me.

Finally, on a bit of a lighter note, I thought I would give you a few anecdotes on perspective. They come in 3 categories;

1) What, doesn’t that happen everywhere?

2) Geese I wished I’d taken a picture, &

3) Haven’t you had to

I do hope this will become a regular feature.

A month or so back we were walking through our local market when we passed a woman topless with her breasts & face painted white. She proceeded to throw everything she was carrying into the air and ran off screaming. We were later told she’s a priestess and she was taken by a spirit… Doesn’t that happen everywhere? Just tonight I had a pack of small children run with me for a good 200-300 yards while out on an evening run. I know it was the highlight of their day and it made my day much brighter also.

A drummer taken by the spirit

Ohum festival in Old Tafo

A couple of weeks ago they shut the school down for 2 days of intramural sports. Imagine the star player of the schools’ football (soccer) team, a 20 year old man standing on the sideline in the best macho pose he can muster, sweat glistening on the ripped muscles of his shirtless back (Terri, that one’s for you) and a powder blue diaper bag slung over his shoulder. I wished I had a camera. Another of the other players wore Christmas themed woman’s socks pulled up over the knees. I wished I had a camera. We were in Koforidua a while back where we saw a guy in quite an attractive pair of zebra striped bright pink hot pants. They looked very nice on him but I don’t think they quite achieved the look he was after. Again, I wished I had a camera. They have no clue what theses clothing items are for, to them they’re western and that simply means they’re cool. It is quite common to see children wearing tee-shirts as skirts which I think are genius. There is a big market here in second hand western cloths which they call “obruni wawo” literally translates as dead white man’s cloths. In the beginning I guess they literally thought that these cloths were from dead westerners because why would someone just get rid of perfectly usable cloths?

Public Transportation

Have you ever had to help to push-start your taxi or had your taxi stop to pick up a piece that fell off? Better yet have you had to wander down a road looking for the part that fell off? Have you ever had to have a stranger’s child sit in your lap on public transportation or simply have a stranger hand you their infant?

A few of the neighbor kids

Lastly in the “what’s up with that?” category; We have a cobra, yes a cobra in our back yard! What’s up with that?

Chris blending in with the locals

Sometimes I get to thinking that I should update the blog. Then I try to think of what I have to say that might be interesting to others. Sadly good ideas do not always come easily. As we are getting used to our routine here, life seems busy, tedious, and boring all at once. While my original intention was for the blog to kind of serve as my personal journal, I don’t want to bore the crap out my friends and family. But I have also recently come to realize that I really must consider perspective. We all need to take a step back now and then and self-reflect from an outside perspective the best we can. It hit me just the other day, “OMG my perspective has really changed over the past few months!” So here is a little window into our lives that may (or may not) be of interest:

Market lady (NOT possessed) with her husband

Every Thursday is market day in Donkorkrom. It’s the kind of day where one might be able to find really rare, exotic things like honey or a plastic dish drain rack (neither of which I was successful at finding this day). So anyway, Chris and I went to town to the market. We visited a few of the stalls and were crossing the main drag when we happened to notice a bare breasted woman. While it’s not uncommon to see an exposed breast here and there, Ghanaian women typically venture out fully and nicely dressed. So it was not the dangling boobs that drew our attention so much as the fact that the woman’s dark arms and torso were whitewashed with a floury looking substance. Ok, fine to each her own. It’s not like I’m making any great fashion statements either. Then just as we were passing by, the woman hurled the basket of things she was carrying down onto the street, screamed, and with arms (and breasts) flailing about, went running in the direction that she had just come. Well, that’s different Chris and I each thought to ourselves. Apparently noticing our slightly perplexed looks, the Ghanaian coworker with whom we were walking offered the simple explanation, “That woman is a priestess and she was taken by the spirit”. Duhh! Of course! That it explains it…priestess, temporarily possessed. We should have realized that. So no big deal, nothing to write home about…Or is it?!

Buying beef from the butcher shop

Monday morning I went to school to teach my ICT class and found that 2 of the 3 sockets that we have in the lab had almost entirely melted. There were little brown burn marks around the receptacles so I guess I should be glad that the lab was at least still standing. Such is the way of life (and electricity) in Ghana.

Speaking of electricity, on Sunday we were on our way home from Kumasi, about to reach the ferry crossing to Afram Plains when we noticed that there had been brush fires since we had passed this way two days ago. Brush fires are often set this time of year to clear an area for planting or to flush out animals making them easier targets for bush meat. Despite the forestry service pleas and education sessions, these fires continue to be set during the dry season and often burn beyond the control of those who set them. This time, we observed that the fire took out 5 power poles while it burned. When we finally arrived at the house after 11 ½ grueling hours of travel under the African sun, we found that we had no electricity. Hmmm…I wonder. At least we have running water. No, make that “HAD” running water. No problem, though. The assistant headmaster says that the piped water will return - sometime around March. (Thank goodness for water barrels and able-bodied students)!

Junior high and grade school students hauling water to their school

One last tidbit for now - Earlier this week a cow was slaughtered, butchered, and roasted just outside my kitchen window. I must admit that I do not recall that ever happening in our back yard in Ames. One might even think it unusual here in Donkorkrom. At least I have not seen that happen. Well, not since the goat was butchered and roasted in our yard a few weeks ago anyway.

No goats were harmed in the taking of this photo

P.S. Today the electricity is on and the water is flowing through the pipes. You would hardly know we're in the Peace Corps!

We woke very early this morning to text messages from fellow PCVs who along with us were overwhelmed and filled with a feeling of great pride and joy! Barack Obama will be our next president. We do not say this as a sound bite. There is genuine hope. We have regained some of the confidence that we had lost with our fellow Americans. The fact that we awoke on the continent of Africa gives this historic event special significance to us. Our local colleagues, who follow the news, have questioned us about the status of blacks in America and how our racial views might play into U.S. politics. As white Americans living in Ghana, describing prejudice to our African friends is a bit unsettling. We hope that this victory speaks for itself. We now feel that we can hold our heads high and once again proclaim that we are proud to be American!

One-man campaign rally

So I figured with the U.S. election just moments away (GO BARACK!!!) and Ghana’s just over a month away, I should try and give you all a primer on Ghanaian politics.

I am absolutely NOT an expert on politics let alone Ghanaian politics so what follows is merely my observations combined with a bit of light research.

Ghana’s as with all other African countries pre-colonial political history was based on clan and tribal groups. The colonizers came in and established arbitrary national boarders based on nothing more than how large an area they could claim and possibly the occasional natural boundary i.e. river or mountain ridge. Tribal boundaries were never considered which arguably doesn’t help with the alleviation of strife across the African continent. On March 6th 1957 Ghana declared its independence from England becoming the first African country to free itself from colonial rule.

Between then and now Ghana has had its fair share of coups. One of the more prominent and “popular” political figures that even to this day influences Ghanaian politics is Jerry Rawlings who came to power via a coup in 1981 and ruled until 1992 when he was then elected president by popular vote. He was reelected again in 1996 and gave up the presidency in 2001 due to term limits. There was concern that Rawlings would be reluctant to give up power after having led Ghana for so long. Yet to his credit free and fair elections were held and in 2000 John Kufour was elected as Ghana’s new president.

Campaign band in Accra

President Kufour’s term has run out and now for the first time in 8 years Ghana will elect a new president. There are (from what I understand) 7 or 8 parties vying for the presidency; the NDC, CPP, PNC, (sorry, Ghanaians love their acronyms) the DFP DPP, RPD, and the NPP. Another party, the NRP is not fielding a presidential candidate this year. I suppose you’d like to know what these all stand for. Well, so would I. The ones I am sure of are the NPP-New Patriotic Party, the NDC- National Democratic Congress, the PNC- People’s National Convention, CPP- Convention People’s Party, the DFP-Democratic Freedom Party, and the NRP- National Reform Party. The rest I would love to tell you but I am not confident I would correctly identify them correctly.

I am sure that soon you will all start to hear about the elections over here. Ghanaians will not only elect a new president but also an all new parliament and Regional heads (like our governors). The reason you will hear about these elections first of all is because Ghana stands on the brink of a very important event. They have operated with relative peace longer than any other African country and the world is hoping that it will remain that way. Secondly, due to the violent events that have taken place on the continent during recent elections, i.e. Kenya and Zimbabwe, everyone is holding their breath. Thirdly in recent months a number of violent outbreaks have occurred related directly to political campaigning.

Why the violence? It would be a huge understatement to say “it’s complicated”. First of all, and again from what I understand, all the political party’s’ platforms are relatively similar. By our standards they all resemble the democrats with strong social programs and education taking priority. Also, as with all of Ghanaian life, all the parties have very strong Christian leanings. So I have a hard time seeing how such violence could erupt based on disputes over party platforms that are so similar. The people here are very passionate about their politics and they love to discuss/argue about it endlessly and I suspect often it gets out of hand and sometimes completely out of control. What I have heard and concluded is a good deal of the violence is largely based on clan and tribal disputes that go way, way back. Many of these parties by default have tribal roots simply because their candidates were born of one tribe or another and this makes some people like or hate this or that candidate. There is also a strong concern by many that if the NDC which is the party John Rawlings created should win, it is a back door way of putting him back into power and there is no love lost for Rawlings by many Ghanaians who were persecuted during his 18 year tenure.

They are doing a lot of PSAs (public service announcements) on the importance of a peaceful election. They talk about avoiding the use of inflammatory speech aimed at opponents, American politicians should take note. I really wished we could record some of these PSA’s. But let’s just say that the production quality is… well. They are darned entertaining though. We heard that they are even taking a little film festival around to all the villages showing the movie Hotel Rwanda, which I assume is to scare people into behaving themselves.

campaign revelers at a rally in Donkorkrom

I have heard our PC Country Director, Bob Golledge, speak of his concern about violence during the elections on a number of occasions and felt he was overly concerned. Then a month or so ago two different parties planned rallies in the town of Gushegu on the same day, violence erupted and several people were killed and a great deal of property was burned and destroyed. I no longer feel he is being overly concerned.

From December 5th to the 10th Peace Corps will hold an “All Volunteer Conference”. The Ghanaian elections are to be held on December 7th. This is not a coincidence. The Peace Corps and US government want all the PCV’s in one place at election time so that if God forbid there are problems we will be more easily evacuated. In order for a party to win the election, it must take a majority of the votes (over 50%). Well since there are seven parties vying for the presidency, the chances of one party getting the majority is not good. This means a run-off and if that happens there is an even greater concern for unrest. The plan for us PCVs is that we will be put on what they call “stand fast” mode which means that we must stay in a designated location until the elections are over and a winner has been declared. The run-off would probably be held just after Christmas.

So some final thoughts on politics over here; The other day Tammi and I were talking and I had goose bumps when I came to the realization that we are living in a country that could possibly erupt into civil war over an election. The goose bumps were for a couple of reasons, first the obvious, fear. It is a very scary thought that at any moment large scale violence could break out (I do truthfully doubt it though). I also know that all the PCVs will be well taken care of and kept out of harm’s way, but I worry for the Ghanaians that can’t simply be evacuated. Secondly what might be harder to explain is that I truly realize how delicate, profound, and fleeting democracy really is. I am saddened at the apathy of my fellow Americans toward politics and government but I will save that rant for some other time. I am impressed that over 70% (it may be higher) of eligible Ghanaians will cast a vote, and often the voter will have to overcome serious adversity in order to perform their duty. I was speaking to a fellow teacher about the number of people that will vote. He gave me the 70% number but he was upset that not more would vote. He was shocked when I told him that in America we would be lucky to get 50%. I would say violence not withstanding America could take a lesson from Ghana about the preciousness and importance of participatory democracy.

More Later on campaigning in Ghana…

I wished I had a recorder so I could share just a little of this joy with all of you…

As I am sitting here typing I am listening to a group of high school girls next door singing and it is literally bringing tears to my eyes. It isn’t that they are the greatest singers or that the song has moving lyrics (I can’t understand a word they’re singing). They are celebrating someone’s birthday and I do recognize the “Happy Birthday to you” tune and “how old are you” .

At the beginning of the school year we held an assembly to make announcements, to introduce new faculty, etc. At the beginning the students at 150 plus strong broke into an impromptu solo and respond song that went on for 10 minutes. Standing in front of all those students I had to fight to keep the tears back.

Not being musically inclined in any way, I am amazed at how effected I am by music, especially this music. As I said I have no idea of the meaning behind the lyrics but to me it sounds like pure joy. All day long I see how hard these people work just to feed themselves & their families and that they can simply break into a song will forever astound me. It is always loud and ruckus and beautiful. Eye ye fe! (It is beautiful)!

It is a requirement that all Peace Corps volunteers in Ghana maintain a malaria prophylaxis regiment. This regiment began the first Monday of training, and because many of us volunteers take the weekly pill Mefloquine, the beginning of each work week has become known as “Mef Monday”.

Mefloquine

Possible side effects: Stomach pain, diarrhea, difficulty concentrating, dizziness, headaches, lightheadedness, loss of appetite, nausea/vomiting, trouble sleeping, visual disturbances.

Hmmm…Let’s weigh out the drawbacks vs. the benefits-

First, stomach pain – I can’t say that I have had that (except maybe if I have not eaten enough before taking the pill or perhaps when I have eaten too much of something because it tasted so good).

Diarrhea-Ok, I live in Ghana. Let’s face it, a person is going to have diarrhea from time to time. There are so many possible causes that I don’t know which one to blame it on. (Actually I have been doing quite well in this department. My nail-biting husband has had his share of experience with this symptom though).

Difficulty concentrating- What was I saying?

Dizziness-The last time we were in Accra we visited the Koala Shopping Center which is what most Americans would consider a typical grocery store. Oh my gosh! They had so many beautiful things there. So many Western things. (So many things that I cannot afford on a Peace Corps “salary”). It was so exciting to walk around and just look at everything. I must admit that after only 4 ½ months living abroad, this experience actually made me dizzy!

Headaches-I occasionally got headaches in the States. Maybe the hot climate is forcing my muscles to relax. But considering the amount of stress, I’d say that I actually get headaches less often here.

Lightheadedness- Have not had that (except for maybe the euphoric Koala grocery store experience or the times when I was packed into a vehicle with too many other hot sweaty people).

Loss of appetite- Yeah right! Where are those Snickers bars that our dear friends and family sent us?

Nausea/vomiting- Thankfully, none so far.

It’s the last two side effects that are the most interesting. And they typically go together.

Trouble sleeping-

Visual disturbances-

It has been my theory that people claim to have “mefloquine dreams” simply because most are usually in a new environment when they take the pill, are traveling, are out of their typical routine, or all of the above. We all have crazy dreams under those circumstances. However, now that I am slowly adjusting to my new routine, I have started to notice a pattern. It’s not the night that I take my weekly pill, but the next night, Tuesday night. I feel that I sleep pretty well but that I’m very, very busy in my dreams. And those dreams are like vivid little movies. I would not call it a “visual disturbance”, but instead maybe cerebral adventures in R.E.M. I will not try to describe the dreams. They hardly make sense to me much less to anyone else. But there might be something to those side effects

listed on the side of my pill bottle.

The idea of contracting active malaria is not attractive to me. The symptoms of high fever, shaking chills, intense headache, profuse sweating, body ache, and delirium do not sound pleasant. Not to mention that there are potential long term affects and oh yeah, it can kill you! So the possible side effects seem a small price to pay. I will keep taking my pill on Mef Monday as directed without fail. But be sure not to call too late on Tuesdays. It’s a busy night for me. I’m going to bed early to enjoy the ride!

I find that when a helicopter lands on the school football field (a.k.a. soccer) it causes a bit of class disruption. It even disrupts the grade school and junior high school down the road. And it seems that some folks from town (about 1 ½ miles away) also feel it’s worth the cost of a ride down to our school to see the big chopper land and take off. Everybody wants to come and see (including Chris and I). This is what happened today-three times! I was told that the government helicopter was bringing and picking up forms for the new national identification program which is being implemented in Ghana. But who knows…I’m ignorant and confused about what's going on around me here most of the time.

Chris investigates

A few spectators gather

Chris's visual arts students

I am beginning to think of Raid as air freshener. As I sit here typing, I see there is a trail of tiny red ants coming from somewhere around the window and going to destinations unknown. Since I see them so frequently, I often wonder what these small annoyances do for a living. I’m not sure if they have a taste for sweets, mold, “meat”, moisture or if they simply just want to get into things-everything! Regardless of their career choice, I am plotting my next attack with my trusty “All Purpose Insect Killer” in the pretty purple can.

When we came to Ghana the first house-dwelling creature of that I observed was the very fast, often times large, flat, wall spider. While it looked creepy, we were told that spiders in Ghana don’t bite so we warmed up to them a little bit. In fact I named one of our larger wall spiders George. One day George seemingly disappeared. It was shortly thereafter (coincidentally?) that I noticed the gecko that had come to live with us. I felt it was only appropriate to name it George II.

The red ants march on, the occasional wasp makes its way in, gnats fling themselves at our light bulbs, an occasional termite drops by, and various other 6- and 8- legged creatures come and go. But I am happy to report the complete absence of cockroach sightings in our own home. We are careful to stow and secure our edibles in the “keep” in hopes that this will remain the status quo. As far as the little malaria-carrying-biting-bastard-mosquitoes, we have found that they are less prevalent here than in Iowa on a typical summer day. Rarely do we see one in the house.

Some of our fellow volunteers are not so fortunate. Home invasions of various degrees of have been reported. Their lists include scorpions, bats, mice, and snakes. So (happily) our indoor fauna is fairly boring.

Overall, bugs are not as problematic as I had anticipated. Regardless, I periodically engage in chemical warfare. While I make a point to avoid any geckos and I do not aim directly at the spiders, (they are on our side after all), I take responsibility for accidental casualties of war. I also understand that there may be possible human side effects if I use my weapon too often, too liberally, or too carelessly. Whatever-gotta go Raid the northeast border!

I believe it would be all but impossible to find a Peace Corps volunteer who did not think it from time to time. But last week is the first time that Chris or I said it out loud. Maybe it is because the thought is less threatening than it was earlier in our service and the difference between saying it and actually acting on it is now separated by a much safer margin than it used to be. “Of course I think about it”, I answered. “It crosses my mind nearly every day”. But as we casually discussed the sinful thoughts we all share of getting the heck out of here, I think we also stabilized our commitment to fulfilling our volunteer pledge in full.

Not surprisingly, life in a foreign land is challenging. Those who have lived abroad can tell you the difficulty of…well…EVERYTHING. I’m not just talking about a new home, a new job, a new language, new culture, and new environment. I’m talking about the (formerly) simple things that we do every day. Eating, drinking, bathing, sleeping, shopping, and commuting, and so on. It all takes a heightened level of energy to complete the common tasks, and for each task it takes a while to work up enough gumption to get the job started.

Our presence here falls somewhere between freak show and movie stars. It is impossible to step foot outside of our home compound without being called to, stared at, carefully ignored, or enthusiastically greeted by each and every passerby. Every small child craves a wave from the passing “obruni” (white person). And the children with greater vocabulary commonly ask for money (since it is assumed that all obunis are wealthy).

Combine the lack of anonymity and daily challenges with the heat and humidity and you find that the daily grind can really suck the energy out of you.

On the other hand, the daily grind makes the actual work feel like a welcome distraction. It’s fun to consider the possibilities of an eco lodge/artist community/national park tourism when it takes your mind off the fact that you have a pile of super stinky clothes in the corner that must be washed but the electric is down, the water pipes are only trickling, and maybe you shouldn’t wash anyway because it looks like it’s going to rain.

As an escape, Chris and I have always enjoyed going out for walks, bike rides, and generally getting out and exploring. Here, (once we psyche ourselves up enough to go beyond the gate), we typically assign a certain amount of time to our outings, “Let’s go down this path for 45 minutes and then turn around and come back”. Inevitably, when the allotted time is finished one of us will say “Let’s just go up around the next corner to see what’s there”, or “Let’s just keep going to the top of that hill so we can see what’s on the other side”.

Now, as we continue our Peace Corps Odyssey, I am guessing that both our commitment and curiosity will carry us through. Sure it takes some added energy, but it’s just too darn intriguing to discover what lies around the next bend!

School officially started on Monday, although it's kind of hard to tell. Today is Friday. No classes have been held yet. Only about 1/6th of the students have reported to our school. High school fees are about $75/term, (there are 3 terms), and many students will not be able to afford fees until the beginning of next month. Few of the first year students know which school to report to. The Ghana Education System (G.E.S.) is just now sending out the high school entrance test results and school assignments. Most high school students in Ghana are boarders and live on the school campus. Students typically have to travel 1-2 days to reach the school where they board.

Entrance to school campus

The students who have reported to school have spent their first week cleaning, sweeping out the classrooms, and “weeding” (mowing the lawn with machetes). Our school is very typical of schools in Ghana.

Just your typical school girls

The assistant headmasters started working on the class schedule yesterday. Before the class schedule can actually be developed, however, the masters need to know how many teachers are returning, the subject(s) they teach, and how many students are coming. These items of input are still quite vague.

Chris and Assistant Headmaster/art teacher, Mr. ABC

I have been assigned to teach Information and Communications Technology (ICT) to freshman and sophomores. Today I was issued a box of chalk, 1 red pen, 1 blue pen, and a notebook to write my lesson plans in. I have a textbook which I tracked down and purchased in Accra, a photo copy of the freshman syllabus which was provided by the Peace Corps, (the sophomore syllabus has not come out yet), and some misc electronic files that I have collected from other teachers. Yep, that should pretty much ensure my teaching success.

classroom block

We have a new school computer lab! However, said lab has been under construction for nearly 2 years (as are the admin offices, boys’ dorm, girls’ dorm, new classroom block, old classroom block, and assembly hall). The construction crew is supposed to be returning to work “any day now”. There are about 20 misc disassembled computers in various states of disrepair in a dirty (infested?) store room. If the school electrician is able to install electrical outlets in one of the designated classrooms today, I will be able to start setting up and testing the functionality of the computers over the weekend. The typical class size is 40-60 students. So if we are lucky enough to get most of the computers operational then each computer will have 3-4 students trying to use it during class. Last year G.E.S. promised 40 new computers to each high school. I’m guessing that these computers will actually reach our school sometime after the missing construction crew completes the campus building projects.

New computer building under construction (complete with sheep on porch)

Our fellow teachers and staff at the school have been delightful! The atmosphere of the school is very positive and the school seems to have a fine reputation. We are sad that our headmaster/neighbor will be moving in a week or two. But apparently being transferred goes with the territory as headmasters are transferred about every 5 years. We have grown quite fond of Headmaster Daniel and his family and are hopeful that the new headmaster and family will be as likeable.

Outgoing Headmaster Daniel with wife Madam Tina

Out for a walk

OK so I would love to say we are living in the bush of Africa taking turns at night beating off poisonous snakes and insects while the other tries to sleep but I can't. Don't get me wrong there are poisonous snakes including Cobras and Mombas, dangerous millipedes, and scorpions that sooner kill you then look at you. All big fun but we aren't living in a thatched hut sleeping on dirt floors, we live in what was/is the guest apartment attached to the back of the headmaster's house. It originally was a house built by Japan Motorworks to house an executive that was overseeing a tractor works that didn’t pan out. We have 24/7 security guards, though I question what these guys (who are very nice people) would do it confronted with any sort of danger.

The Headmaster's house is in the front. You can see our little abode sticking out on the back left.

The "hall" (living room)

Anyway we have 2 bedrooms, a living room (what they call a hall), a kitchen, a storeroom/pantry, a shower room, and toilet. We share it all with a myriad of innocuous bugs and spiders and several geckos who are a lot of fun to watch scurry around. It is not Shangri-La by any means but it is more than adequate. WE EVEN HAVE A TV! They were so excited to show us our TV and its one channel. We do try to catch the news on occasion but it is rarely turned on for I was looking forward to being away from TV after my serious TV addiction issues back in the states. We are far more excited to have a fridge, a cold beverage in Africa is a precious commodity. We had to buy a gas cooktop and a kitchen sink, we also had a carpenter make tables for the kitchen. I know what you’re thinking; why didn't I make them? Well I didn’t bring tools I haven't quite figured out how to track down materials or tools and until then there's a need and besides they were quite cheap. One table a 36"x 60"x 20" table made of all hardwood, all be it still wet (I think it’s Kapock wood) cost us the equivalent of $25.00. I do plan on making us some furniture as soon as I can track down some tools. I also hope to be doing some sculpture of which I already have some drawings of. I will keep you all apprised of my creative ventures.

"Automatic Washing Mashine"

"Coffee Grinder" (We are grateful for the beans sent from the States)!

We are in a pretty rural area of Ghana as I discussed earlier and it is not easy to find a lot of things in the market here, but a wise person said to me before we left the states, "When you start thinking you can't survive with what's available, look around and realize that these people have survived with far less for a very long time." Bottom line is we have everything we NEED, everything else is a luxury and to me sometimes it seems we are living in luxury comparatively…

The road between our home and town

Another pretty sunset from our doorstep

Here we are the swearing In Ceremony

We have been at site now for a little over 3 weeks having sworn in as actual Peace Corps volunteers on the 19th of August. Training was intense for someone who has not been on the learning end of a classroom situation in a very long time. I would say the language was the most difficult thing for me while Tammi had a little easier time of it. We were also required to pass a language competency test before we could be sworn in. I was truly terrified of it but passed on my first try and so did Tammi.

Our Twi language learning group -and - The now "famous" drumming troup

So here we are at site, in Donkorkrom, sometimes spelled Odonkawkram or Odonkawkrom. We just learned that it means "Slave Town". Donko is Twi for slave and Krom means town. I won't go into the history of the area just now. I also won't repeat all the statistics about Donkorkrom, just some observations;

Some call the Afram Plains, (of which Donkorkrom is the "capital"), the bread basket of Ghana. Back in the early 60's a dam was built on the Volta River or in the local language Esuten Frau and with the damming of the river system it flooded not only the Volta River to our east but also the Afram River (Esuten Afram) to the west and now Afrom Plains is virtually surrounded by water. Before the valleys were flooded this was a major cocoa growing region and after the flooding the climate was changed, the cocoa trees could no longer thrive and they died. 40 plus years later the Afram Plains has switched over to other crops including Yams (bayera) cocoa yams (mankane), casava (banchae) and maize. Most farming is done on a subsistence basis growing just enough to feed their families plus enough to sell at market to make a living. Some have tried larger scale agriculture but there is still a lot of work to be done there. Probably the largest export as well as largest environmental problem in Afram Plains is charcoal. Trees are being taken down at a dizzying rate to be made into charcoal. The government has tried to get the charcoal makers to at least replant the trees but they presently see little sense in that when there seems to be plenty of trees to cut down. They seem to have something in common with us westerners; shortsightedness. Traditions and people’s minds are very slow to change here, also something they have in common with us. So if any one has any brilliant suggestions...

Loading the pontoon for river crossing to Afram Plains

Our school sets on a one square mile piece of property but the actual school takes up a very small part of that. They along with several other places in Afram have planted plantations of Teak and Mahogany which offers a wonderful amount of shade on campus and potential profit generation for the future. They are thinking long-term which suggests the school is well run. Though as with a lot of things in Ghana it is by no means a well oiled machine;

Our school was to begin Monday Sept. 15th but no one is quite sure how many students will show up or even how many teachers will return for the next school year. Its run a bit differently here than what we're use to. We are told students will trickle in for the next couple of weeks, and the form 1's (freshmen) will show up quite a bit later. School is based on a 3 term school year. We will find out what we are actually teaching and when and classes will start in earnest by say the week of the 22nd. We call it GMT no not Greenwich Mean Time but Ghana Maybe Time. Everyone we have interacted with at school has been wonderful. They are as anxious to learn about the US as we are to learn about Ghana. Our head master is first class and sadly we are losing him and his family to a lucky school in the Kwaho Mountains. We hope that our new head person will be as good.

A Note from Tammi: You may have noticed that it's been a while since our last posting. We have been "recovering" from a hard drive crash, which is something that is hard enough to deal with when you live in a 1st world country! Anyway, we're back up. Sorry for the delay...

In our first 24 hours in Ghana we were greeted at the airport by a band of whooping Peace Corps reps, received a police escort to our first training site, had our arms injected with various vaccines, learned a little Twi (the local language), met with the Minister of Education, and attended a reception at the ambassador’s house. Then…things got busy.

Currently we are in what is called Pre-Service Training (PST). We trainees are living with host families in the communities near our training hub. The training hub is in the village of Kukurantumi , which is near the town of Koforidua in the Easter Region. Our days are filled with language learning, teaching practicum, and community integration activities.

We are currently in the rainy season. It rains almost daily for an hour or two – at times very heavy. Temperatures are in the 80’s. This is a fairly affluent part of Ghana. Not all locations have them, but ceiling fans provide a good level of comfort. Chris and I feel quite fortunate to have a fan in our bedroom. Here we have electricity most of the time. We had indoor running water for our first 4 days, but for reasons unknown (possibly repair or construction) the piped water has stopped. Our host family collects rain water in barrels which we use for cleaning and bucket baths. They also fetch water from the nearby bore hole which we use for cooking and drinking. Peace Corps provides volunteers with an easy to use, gravity fed ceramic water filter which we use to treat all of our drinking water. This helps to prevent a myriad of very “interesting” potential ailments. Despite the precautions taken with food and water, it is possible that we will not experience our next normal bowel movement until we return to the States in a couple of years. Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV’s) and retired people are similar. We both live on fixed incomes and we love to talk about bowel movements.

Chris and I really enjoy our training group. Our group of trainees is quite unique for two reasons. First, there are two couples in the group (Chris and I being the elder couple). Second, at age 84 we have the oldest Peace Corps Trainee (PCT) to date as part of our group! Peace Corps life is not easy. It wears down the young and old alike. We started in Philadelphia with 35 trainees. Two have already returned home. Chris and I feel that the couples are at an advantage since we have our own built-in support system. We are impressed at the tenacity and adaptability of our counterparts.

After MUCH anticipation, we have received our site assignment where we will spend our 2 years of service beginning mid-August: Donkorkrom.

I’m sure that the fact that we are a couple went into our site selection. It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere. We have to take a boat to get to it! I anticipate that it will take a full day of travel to reach our site from our present location and/or from the capital city of Accra. Donkorkrom is in the Afram Plains of the Eastern Region. It is a multi-ethnic society made up mostly of farmers, traders and a few Government workers. The district is said to have a vibrant and fast growing market. Donkorkrom has pipe born and borehole water that supplies the whole township. Electricity supply is from the national grid. As is common, the community is headed by a chief.

We will teach at Donkorkrom Agric Senior High School (DASS). DASS is located on approx 1 square mile of land with an enrolment of about 700. The school offers programs in Agriculture, Science, Business, General Arts and Visual Arts. Dormitories and classrooms comprise the campus. Apparently the school has about 20 computers. I do not yet know how many of them are actually functional. We will visit our site the first week in August.

Our living accommodations are described as a flat which is located about 50 meters from the school. There is a toilet and bath facilities and electricity. (Of course we do not yet know how reliable any of those utilities are).

Donkorkrom is of note as the southern administrative center for Ghana’s second-largest conservation area Digya National Park, which extends over 3,750 square km north of the Afram Plains and west of Lake Volta. According to Ghana Bradt Guide, Digya has never formally opened to the public due to difficulty of access, but its potential is enormous thanks to a remarkable diversity of habitats and a mammal checklist that includes red-flanked duiker, elephant, manatee, hippopotamus, buffalo, lion, leopard, bongo antelope, and half a dozen species of monkey. The Dowsetts recorded 236 bird species over a 9-day expedition in 2005 and a checklist of 300-plus seems probable.

We arrived in Ghana on June 10th. This is my first in-country blog posting because this is the first time I have had access to the internet. The internet café is located about 6 km away from where we are staying. Travel is always a bit of an adventure. And the first 3 times I attempted to use the café it was either closed or the internet was down. We are still working out how best to stay in touch and are looking into connectivity options. For the first time, however, Chris and I both have cell phones. I guess it took moving to Ghana to get that accomplished. I’ll be happy to share our phone numbers with friends and family if you zap me an email. Just be sure to keep the time difference in mind. Ghana is on Greenwich Mean Time (GMT), which is currently 5 hours ahead of CST. Ghana does not recognize daylight savings time.

Well I better get back to making lesson plans for my practicum teaching. Next week I am teaching follow-up lessons to the HIV/Aids and internet classes I taught at the local senior secondary school this week.

Observation of the day:

I was sitting in on an ICT class at the local high school. Without the aid of computers, the teacher lectured on how to set up an email account to 45 dark skinned students who had never even seen the internet function. With chalk and a well-worn blackboard, he wrote out the steps. A woman dressed in a pretty batik pattern dress passed by along the path leading to the back gate. With perfect posture, she easily carried a bowl full of porridge sachets on her head. As the teacher continued his lecture a chicken casually entered the doorway on one side of the room, and then pecked her way across picking up tidbits and little broken pieces of chalk before nonchalantly exiting through the other doorway. In the distance a kid goat bleated for its mother. A nice breeze kicked in, cooled the layer of sweat on my skin, and brought the first few drops of rain. Soon the rain was pouring down with such force on the un-insulated tin roof that the teacher’s voice became inaudible. Thus, the teaching paused. But nobody seemed bothered by it. After all, we’re on GMT (Ghana Maybe Time).

And I thought to myself – Wow, I live in Africa!

It's hard to believe that we started this whole process over a year ago. Now it's simply a matter of days before we are on our way! For a little background, see article at :

http://www.public.iastate.edu/~nscentral/news/2008/apr/martin.shtml