I'm encountering new people everyday. Some are friends, some are not. Some are young, some are old. Some are poor, some are well-off (by Ghanaian standards). But there's one population that has overwhelmed me more than any other because it is both familiar and utterly alien: the children.
If an American child worked as hard as an African child, I think he would die. I don't think I'm lazy (for the most part) but these children put me to shame. My host family has five girls. The eldest, Precious (age 11), is up every morning between 4:30 and 5 and the first thing she does is sweep the house and the compound surrounding it. Everything here is dusty. And she doesn't use one of those industrial brooms that clears a room with a few sweeps. The brooms here are bunches of little reeds tied together. Since it's only about a foot-and-a-half long, you have to stoop to use it. I usually wake up to the sound of her sweeping outside.
Meanwhile, Aminiampong (age 9), the second eldest, is taking care of Michelle, the infant daughter. She is often going about her business with Michelle tied to her back. She also fetches water from the spigot outside so her mom can use it while cooking. I've seen children do some serious heavy lifting whether it's buckets of water or stacks of chairs or piles of books. And they carry these things on their heads ... something I want to try one day but I'm too embarrassed to. During school, teachers always ask students to carry books from one class to another. They also stay after class to sweep the rooms clean. Who needs a janitor when you have children around?
Children are not coddled here. They are tough little people who work hard and have an amazing tolerance for physical discomfort. Even little five-year-olds have calloused hands from who-knows-what. They are also super-jacked. I envy the little girls and their shapely arm muscles. I have decided that when I have children, I will teach them the African work ethic.
But I'm conflicted about one particular aspect of African child-rearing: the cane.
Every teacher has a cane that s/he uses during class to keep the children in order. I've seen some serious lashings on the bum, the head, the hands, the shoulders, wherever. But the children accept it; it's just the way it is. In fact, children will only respect the cane when it comes to discipline. I've tried shouting, I've tried guilt-tripping, I've tried sending them to Time Out. But nothing works. When I yell at one group of students, another group will advise me, "Madam! You must beat them. Beat them, Madam!" (Yes, they call me Madam Katrina.)
The children can be monsters if they decide to misbehave. I substituted in Stage 1 (first grade) and they were screaming, running, hitting each other, stealing bags and dumping its contents and wreaking general havoc. I won't lie, I wanted so badly to hit them all. Since then, I've decided to stick with the older classes that are a smidge easier to control. Usually if a teacher can hear another class misbehaving, it's assumed that it's my class and he will come in - with his cane - and reinstate order for me. I can't decide if these moments are a relief or an embarrassment.
In the end, however, I love the children - demons or angels they may be - and they are the ones who make my work worthwhile. They're just so freakin' cute. It's always rewarding when I walk around town on errands and students come out from their homes to greet me, "Madam Katrina! Hello Madam! How are you?"
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Visual evidence.
Hooray, the internet today seems to be working much faster than normal so I'm going to post some pics. But as luck would have it, I'm here while 'on the clock'. The school director pulled me from class and sent me on an errand to the internet cafe to print some stuff for the school. So I'm only going to spend as much time here as my conscience affords. When I have more time, I will post more pics.
Here is my school, American Co-operative.
Some of the nursery students.
At the market in Kumasi (ref. March 1 post).
The lead male in the parade for March 6 (ref. March 8 post).
We just found out we won the marching competition.
Here is my school, American Co-operative.
Some of the nursery students.
At the market in Kumasi (ref. March 1 post).
The lead male in the parade for March 6 (ref. March 8 post).
We just found out we won the marching competition.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Proud to be an American
Saturday, March 6, was Ghana's Independence Day. Just as we celebrate July 4 with fireworks, Ghanaians celebrate their independence with a parade. The parade is a competition among all local schools and their marching brigades. Winning first place is not only a recognition of hard work and practice, but it is also a school's ticket to bragging rights for the rest of the year. My school's brigade had been training for weeks in preparation for this day. The students arrived at the school at 6am in cleanly-pressed uniforms. The girls had their hair done and donned matching earrings and socks. The boys shined their shoes and straightened their ties. Everything had to be perfect. Last year, American Cooperative (ACS) got third place and this year, we would settle for nothing less than first.
Once we got to the parade grounds, we waited for over three hours as other schools arrived. The school that lined up next to us was the Muslim school and all the girls wore headscarves. Apparently we were next to them last year as well and the teachers joked about how the Americans and Iraqis can't seem to get away from each other. (Aside: I also met a guy nicknamed Bush as in George W. I asked why everyone calls him Bush and his friends said, "Because he's crazy.") As we waited, anticipation mounted then dwindled as the students became impatient and hungry. Some teachers and I snuck off to 'take something' (Ghanaian euphemism for drinking). Upon our return, the drumming had started and the stands were full. Our time had come to march.
And march we did. With perfection. First place perfection. When they announced that we won, the teachers, students and I ran around like fools, cheering and waving our Ghanaian and American flags. We then boarded our school bus and drove around town, singing loudly and announcing our winnings to all the neighbors. We were probably really obnoxious. Our chant was something along the lines of "We are the Americans. Mighty mighty Americans. Champion Americans. Super Super Americans." The irony is that I was the only American. But whatever.
This weekend was indeed one of new experiences because I went to an African church for the first time yesterday. The service was over 4 hours long and nearly everything was in Twi, the local language. It was sufficiently awkward and, at some points, the boredom was nearly intolerable (sorry God), but it was still nice to go to church. Everyone here goes to church. It makes the Bible Belt look pagan. I've never been to a place where strangers get excited to hear that I'm a Christian.
But I will save my religious/philosophic ruminations for a separate post.
Just know that this weekend was a lot of fun. I spent a lot of it hanging out with the other teachers. It helped that we had something to celebrate. And I have friends now. Yay.
FYI - Black, green, yellow and red are the colors of the Ghanaian flag. Apparently it is also harder to read but thanks for reading anyway.
Once we got to the parade grounds, we waited for over three hours as other schools arrived. The school that lined up next to us was the Muslim school and all the girls wore headscarves. Apparently we were next to them last year as well and the teachers joked about how the Americans and Iraqis can't seem to get away from each other. (Aside: I also met a guy nicknamed Bush as in George W. I asked why everyone calls him Bush and his friends said, "Because he's crazy.") As we waited, anticipation mounted then dwindled as the students became impatient and hungry. Some teachers and I snuck off to 'take something' (Ghanaian euphemism for drinking). Upon our return, the drumming had started and the stands were full. Our time had come to march.
And march we did. With perfection. First place perfection. When they announced that we won, the teachers, students and I ran around like fools, cheering and waving our Ghanaian and American flags. We then boarded our school bus and drove around town, singing loudly and announcing our winnings to all the neighbors. We were probably really obnoxious. Our chant was something along the lines of "We are the Americans. Mighty mighty Americans. Champion Americans. Super Super Americans." The irony is that I was the only American. But whatever.
This weekend was indeed one of new experiences because I went to an African church for the first time yesterday. The service was over 4 hours long and nearly everything was in Twi, the local language. It was sufficiently awkward and, at some points, the boredom was nearly intolerable (sorry God), but it was still nice to go to church. Everyone here goes to church. It makes the Bible Belt look pagan. I've never been to a place where strangers get excited to hear that I'm a Christian.
But I will save my religious/philosophic ruminations for a separate post.
Just know that this weekend was a lot of fun. I spent a lot of it hanging out with the other teachers. It helped that we had something to celebrate. And I have friends now. Yay.
FYI - Black, green, yellow and red are the colors of the Ghanaian flag. Apparently it is also harder to read but thanks for reading anyway.
Monday, March 1, 2010
And I thought I was a city girl.
I love cities. I can do the trail mix outdoors-y vacations, sure, but in the end, I'd much prefer visiting a city. Or so I thought.
This weekend I went to Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti Region and Ghana's second-largest city after Accra. It was a 45min tro-tro (bus) ride from Effiduasi. There, I finally met Douglas, my ICYE contact and go-to guy in Kumasi. He's been calling/texting to check on me ever since I arrived. He has worked with volunteers for years and has answered all my random questions including "Where do I get a bus to Ejisu?" and "Are there homosexuals in Ghana?" (Answers: 'Roman Hill' and 'Not openly'). Fellow volunteers Sally and Katharina also came to Kumasi from Accra so we could be tourists together.
Saturday was packed with sightseeing and a lot of wandering. We started at the National Cultural Centre, a walled-in, serene area nestled in the Bantama neighborhood. It had some shops with traditional African ware as well as a tourist office which was closed on Saturday morning (because that makes a lot of sense). Next came the massive Kejetia Market composed of ramshackle stalls hawking goods ranging from butchered animal parts to tailored clothing to kitchen supplies. We, of course, managed to enter at the meat section - a rank, stinky, fly-riddled area that we unfortunately had a hard time escaping. My traveling buddies were thoroughly horrified, but thanks to my many experiences in Chinatowns across America, I was only mildly disgusted.
We then cabbed our way to Manhyia Palace where the current Ashanti king lives. We toured the museum and learned Ghanaian and Ashanti history. For being a king's palace, I found Manhyia very unassuming and rather modest. After lunch, we wandered to a supermarket to buy water. Our next stop was Kumasi Fort and since Kumasi is nearly devoid of streetsigns, we resorted to taking cheap cab rides rather than venturing it alone. We told the driver "Kumasi Fort" but his acknowledgement was dubious. When we arrived, he insisted it was the place so we got out and it immediately became obvious that we were NOT at Kumasi Fort. After much confusion with three different drivers, we finally got another cab ... that brought us to Kumasi Fort about two blocks away from the supermarket we just visited.
Ultimately, I had fun in Kumasi, but I realized a few reasons why a large Ghanaian city may not be the best for me:
1. As mentioned, Kumasi has no street signs and some streets do not appear on my map. This makes navigating the city on foot very difficult. And I believe walking a city is the best way to explore.
2. People are seedier. Though expected, I hate being overcharged for something just because I am a foreigner. I also do not like being touched or grabbed by men as I'm walking down the street.
3. Some givens in Western cities just do not exist in Ghanaian ones. For example, we had to hunt down a coffeeshop which was on the other side of town. No Starbucks imperialism here. Also, I was in Kumasi for less than 48 hours and the hotel lost power twice and the water stopped running about halfway through. At least in Effiduasi, something like that is expected.
4. The city is noisy all the time. There was some kind of parade, complete with drums and shouting, that went right under my window ... at 6:30am on Sunday.
Nevertheless, I will have to befriend Kumasi one way or another as it has a number of resources that Effiduasi does not. I expect each trip to be just as eventful. In fact, I am finding that everything is an adventure here.
On another note, I've received a few questions about my general living standard and what modern conveniences I am doing without. Here are a few that I can think of right now:
1. I do not have toilet paper. Instead, we use old newspapers.
2. I do not have a pillow but I think that's just me. Ghanaians have pillows, I just didn't get one with my bed. But I'm still sleeping well.
3. I do not have a washing machine. I do laundry by hand which means that the cleanliness of my clothes is questionable. I did find out, however, that my family hires a woman to do the wash and I'm welcome to add my stuff to the load.
4. The house doesn't have a functioning sink so I brush my teeth and wash my face in the shower.
5. Tampons are not sold in Effiduasi. To find them, I have to go to Accra or Kumasi.
And then, of course, there are the heavy-hitters that you should have figured out if you've been reading my blog:
6. I do not always have running water.
7. I do not always have electricity.
8. I do not have internet at home.
9. I do not have AC.
This is not to be confused as a list of complaints. In fact, I really like living here and I've adjusted swimmingly. I've sacrificed some in terms of hygiene and comfort, but overall, my life is simple and pleasant. It's very liberating to learn what I can live without.
(I know I've promised pictures, but my connection here is so slow that I don't think I'll be able to put them up. They will have to wait until the next time I go to Accra or Kumasi where the internet is faster. Apologies.)
This weekend I went to Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti Region and Ghana's second-largest city after Accra. It was a 45min tro-tro (bus) ride from Effiduasi. There, I finally met Douglas, my ICYE contact and go-to guy in Kumasi. He's been calling/texting to check on me ever since I arrived. He has worked with volunteers for years and has answered all my random questions including "Where do I get a bus to Ejisu?" and "Are there homosexuals in Ghana?" (Answers: 'Roman Hill' and 'Not openly'). Fellow volunteers Sally and Katharina also came to Kumasi from Accra so we could be tourists together.
Saturday was packed with sightseeing and a lot of wandering. We started at the National Cultural Centre, a walled-in, serene area nestled in the Bantama neighborhood. It had some shops with traditional African ware as well as a tourist office which was closed on Saturday morning (because that makes a lot of sense). Next came the massive Kejetia Market composed of ramshackle stalls hawking goods ranging from butchered animal parts to tailored clothing to kitchen supplies. We, of course, managed to enter at the meat section - a rank, stinky, fly-riddled area that we unfortunately had a hard time escaping. My traveling buddies were thoroughly horrified, but thanks to my many experiences in Chinatowns across America, I was only mildly disgusted.
We then cabbed our way to Manhyia Palace where the current Ashanti king lives. We toured the museum and learned Ghanaian and Ashanti history. For being a king's palace, I found Manhyia very unassuming and rather modest. After lunch, we wandered to a supermarket to buy water. Our next stop was Kumasi Fort and since Kumasi is nearly devoid of streetsigns, we resorted to taking cheap cab rides rather than venturing it alone. We told the driver "Kumasi Fort" but his acknowledgement was dubious. When we arrived, he insisted it was the place so we got out and it immediately became obvious that we were NOT at Kumasi Fort. After much confusion with three different drivers, we finally got another cab ... that brought us to Kumasi Fort about two blocks away from the supermarket we just visited.
Ultimately, I had fun in Kumasi, but I realized a few reasons why a large Ghanaian city may not be the best for me:
1. As mentioned, Kumasi has no street signs and some streets do not appear on my map. This makes navigating the city on foot very difficult. And I believe walking a city is the best way to explore.
2. People are seedier. Though expected, I hate being overcharged for something just because I am a foreigner. I also do not like being touched or grabbed by men as I'm walking down the street.
3. Some givens in Western cities just do not exist in Ghanaian ones. For example, we had to hunt down a coffeeshop which was on the other side of town. No Starbucks imperialism here. Also, I was in Kumasi for less than 48 hours and the hotel lost power twice and the water stopped running about halfway through. At least in Effiduasi, something like that is expected.
4. The city is noisy all the time. There was some kind of parade, complete with drums and shouting, that went right under my window ... at 6:30am on Sunday.
Nevertheless, I will have to befriend Kumasi one way or another as it has a number of resources that Effiduasi does not. I expect each trip to be just as eventful. In fact, I am finding that everything is an adventure here.
On another note, I've received a few questions about my general living standard and what modern conveniences I am doing without. Here are a few that I can think of right now:
1. I do not have toilet paper. Instead, we use old newspapers.
2. I do not have a pillow but I think that's just me. Ghanaians have pillows, I just didn't get one with my bed. But I'm still sleeping well.
3. I do not have a washing machine. I do laundry by hand which means that the cleanliness of my clothes is questionable. I did find out, however, that my family hires a woman to do the wash and I'm welcome to add my stuff to the load.
4. The house doesn't have a functioning sink so I brush my teeth and wash my face in the shower.
5. Tampons are not sold in Effiduasi. To find them, I have to go to Accra or Kumasi.
And then, of course, there are the heavy-hitters that you should have figured out if you've been reading my blog:
6. I do not always have running water.
7. I do not always have electricity.
8. I do not have internet at home.
9. I do not have AC.
This is not to be confused as a list of complaints. In fact, I really like living here and I've adjusted swimmingly. I've sacrificed some in terms of hygiene and comfort, but overall, my life is simple and pleasant. It's very liberating to learn what I can live without.
(I know I've promised pictures, but my connection here is so slow that I don't think I'll be able to put them up. They will have to wait until the next time I go to Accra or Kumasi where the internet is faster. Apologies.)
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sink or swim.
I've nearly completed my first week as a teaching assistant at the American Cooperative International School (ACIS). Here's a sketchy outline of my days so far:
4:30 My host family wakes up, blares the radio and gets ready for the day.
5:00 I groggily get out of bed.
6:00 I board a clunky old school bus with Thomas, the driver, for the morning rounds.
8:00 I arrive back at the school under a massive pile of schoolchildren.
8:15-3:00 I shadow teachers during different sessions to get a feel for how to teach.
3:30 I walk into town to run errands and/or visit the internet cafe.
5:30 I take supper that my host mom, Madam Hega, has prepared.
6:00 I play with my five host sisters, the oldest of whom is 11, the youngest is less than 1.
8:00 I bathe and retreat to my room where I try to stop sweating before going to bed.
9:30 Bedtime.
So obviously this whole experience is different from anything I've done before. I like the routine of it but the children keep everything interesting. They have names like Shadrach, Augusta, Anastasia and Samuella. And they find different ways to act out in class which can be both nightmarish and endearing.
The teachers have been super gracious and hospitable so far. I'm trying my best to be friendly and outgoing but apparently I'm still too introverted. They keep asking why I'm so quiet. Um .. maybe because I have no idea what I'm doing?! I talked to Mr. Alex, the man who started the school, and he is asking that I help with the English curriculum. Not a problem. I was an English major after all and I've tutored reading for years.
But he also asked that I teach 'American' things. This is the American Cooperative School after all. Suddenly, I am an expert on all things American and I have to be able to teach 500 students at the same time. A teacher asked me to sing the national anthem ... and I couldn't! I would venture to say that the average American does not know all the lyrics of the Star-Spangled Banner.
So that's what I've been doing at the internet cafe today. I googled the lyrics to our national anthem and America the Beautiful. And now I'm re-learning our pledge of allegiance.
This'll be interesting.
4:30 My host family wakes up, blares the radio and gets ready for the day.
5:00 I groggily get out of bed.
6:00 I board a clunky old school bus with Thomas, the driver, for the morning rounds.
8:00 I arrive back at the school under a massive pile of schoolchildren.
8:15-3:00 I shadow teachers during different sessions to get a feel for how to teach.
3:30 I walk into town to run errands and/or visit the internet cafe.
5:30 I take supper that my host mom, Madam Hega, has prepared.
6:00 I play with my five host sisters, the oldest of whom is 11, the youngest is less than 1.
8:00 I bathe and retreat to my room where I try to stop sweating before going to bed.
9:30 Bedtime.
So obviously this whole experience is different from anything I've done before. I like the routine of it but the children keep everything interesting. They have names like Shadrach, Augusta, Anastasia and Samuella. And they find different ways to act out in class which can be both nightmarish and endearing.
The teachers have been super gracious and hospitable so far. I'm trying my best to be friendly and outgoing but apparently I'm still too introverted. They keep asking why I'm so quiet. Um .. maybe because I have no idea what I'm doing?! I talked to Mr. Alex, the man who started the school, and he is asking that I help with the English curriculum. Not a problem. I was an English major after all and I've tutored reading for years.
But he also asked that I teach 'American' things. This is the American Cooperative School after all. Suddenly, I am an expert on all things American and I have to be able to teach 500 students at the same time. A teacher asked me to sing the national anthem ... and I couldn't! I would venture to say that the average American does not know all the lyrics of the Star-Spangled Banner.
So that's what I've been doing at the internet cafe today. I googled the lyrics to our national anthem and America the Beautiful. And now I'm re-learning our pledge of allegiance.
This'll be interesting.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
My new home.
After a four-hour bus ride from Accra, I have finally arrived at my host project. It's in a city called Effiduasi, which is about 60km from Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti Region in Ghana. I also now have the 411 on what my situation will be for the next six months. (Btw - I can't even use the word 'situation' without thinking of Jersey Shore. Thanks MTV. Thanks a lot.)
First things first. Here's my contact information for those who want it.
Mobile: +233 05467 03716
Mailing Address:
Katrina Liu
American Cooperative Int'l School
P.O. Box 143
Effiduasi, Ashanti
Ghana
Effiduasi 411:
The city has all the amenities including a bank, post office, supermarket and two internet cafes. From what I can tell, the weather is a bit cooler too. At this time in Accra, I would be drenched in sweat. But currently in Effiduasi, my skin is only slightly clammy. Since it was Saturday, everyone was outside, lounging and hanging out. White people (obroni) do not come to Effiduasi so I got a ton of attention. Nevermind the fact that I'm not actually white, as long as I'm not black. Kids would follow me, calling, "Obroni! Obroni!" The girls couldn't believe that my hair could be so soft and real (i.e. no weave) at the same time.
Living 411:
My host family is the school director, Sekyere Boateng, and his family of five girls. I can't help but think of the Bennett sisters. Their home (and mine) is in a building right on the school premises so I have a short commute. I have my own room, complete with a full-size bed and mosquito net. My host mom cooks my meals. Yesterday I had fufu, a popular local dish. It's a spicy stew with different meats, accompanied by a sticky dough ball. It's good, but I'm still uncomfortable eating with my hands. Another teacher, Michael, was the one showing me around and I made him leave the room while I ate, haha.
But the best part is that I have running water in the house! This means there's a flushing toilet and working showerhead. No more lugging water back and forth in buckets. I am probably making my fellow volunteers in Accra jealous. (Hello Kath and Sal if you're reading this!)
Teaching 411:
The school is called The American Cooperative International School and is Kindergarten through Grade 5. It is the initiative of Alex Kamoa, a Ghanaian-American (or American-Ghanaian, not sure which), but he is currently in the States. The school follows an American syllabus with courses in math, reading and science. There's even a little computer lab, which is a big deal here. There are roughly 500 students with a student-teacher ratio of 50:1. It's obvious, then, why they need teaching assistants.
Retraction: Before coming, I thought this was an orphanage but it turns out my project description was incorrect. The students are indeed disadvantaged, but most have homes to go to. I also said there's a farm. There is, but women traditionally do not do manual labor so I probably won't be working in that capacity. Too bad, since I was kind of looking forward to building up my ploughing muscles.
Note: I have pictures to accompany this post but somehow the connection here isn't letting me upload them. I'll add them at a later time so stay posted.
First things first. Here's my contact information for those who want it.
Mobile: +233 05467 03716
Mailing Address:
Katrina Liu
American Cooperative Int'l School
P.O. Box 143
Effiduasi, Ashanti
Ghana
Effiduasi 411:
The city has all the amenities including a bank, post office, supermarket and two internet cafes. From what I can tell, the weather is a bit cooler too. At this time in Accra, I would be drenched in sweat. But currently in Effiduasi, my skin is only slightly clammy. Since it was Saturday, everyone was outside, lounging and hanging out. White people (obroni) do not come to Effiduasi so I got a ton of attention. Nevermind the fact that I'm not actually white, as long as I'm not black. Kids would follow me, calling, "Obroni! Obroni!" The girls couldn't believe that my hair could be so soft and real (i.e. no weave) at the same time.
Living 411:
My host family is the school director, Sekyere Boateng, and his family of five girls. I can't help but think of the Bennett sisters. Their home (and mine) is in a building right on the school premises so I have a short commute. I have my own room, complete with a full-size bed and mosquito net. My host mom cooks my meals. Yesterday I had fufu, a popular local dish. It's a spicy stew with different meats, accompanied by a sticky dough ball. It's good, but I'm still uncomfortable eating with my hands. Another teacher, Michael, was the one showing me around and I made him leave the room while I ate, haha.
But the best part is that I have running water in the house! This means there's a flushing toilet and working showerhead. No more lugging water back and forth in buckets. I am probably making my fellow volunteers in Accra jealous. (Hello Kath and Sal if you're reading this!)
Teaching 411:
The school is called The American Cooperative International School and is Kindergarten through Grade 5. It is the initiative of Alex Kamoa, a Ghanaian-American (or American-Ghanaian, not sure which), but he is currently in the States. The school follows an American syllabus with courses in math, reading and science. There's even a little computer lab, which is a big deal here. There are roughly 500 students with a student-teacher ratio of 50:1. It's obvious, then, why they need teaching assistants.
Retraction: Before coming, I thought this was an orphanage but it turns out my project description was incorrect. The students are indeed disadvantaged, but most have homes to go to. I also said there's a farm. There is, but women traditionally do not do manual labor so I probably won't be working in that capacity. Too bad, since I was kind of looking forward to building up my ploughing muscles.
Note: I have pictures to accompany this post but somehow the connection here isn't letting me upload them. I'll add them at a later time so stay posted.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Embassy Escapade.
Of course one of the first things on my To Do list was to go to the US Embassy to register myself. I don’t really know how it works, but I imagine that if Ghana suffered a major catastrophe and the jungle was burning down, an official US black hawk helicopter would swoop into Effiduasi and rescue me in epic glory. You know, because I’m registered and all.
So yesterday after lunch, I went to the US Embassy with my ICYE escort, Annie. We took one bus (trotro) and a group taxi and walked several blocks to get to the Embassy gate. The guard politely but unapologetically informed us that the Consular Office was closed for the day and I have to return the next morning.
Strike 1.
This morning started with Twi language lessons with our teacher Morgan. After class, I jetted out, hoping to make it to the Embassy before noon. This time I went by myself, which was both nerve-wracking and empowering. I took two trotros and walked the rest of the way. Dripping sweat, I arrived at the Consular Office where the attendant told me that all registrations are done through the internet. I couldn’t register in person if I wanted to.
Strike 2.
The trip wasn’t an epic fail, however. At one of the bus stops, a woman approached me and we started talking. She knew a few Chinese words and I wondered how. It turns out that she knew some people from Ghana Textiles, a company that employed many Chinese workers including, at one time, my grandfather.
Hit.
After the lady left, a young man came to the bus stop. He was well dressed and heck, I’ll admit it, kind of cute. He said hi and asked where I was going. ‘Police Hospital,’ I said. He was going to the passport office, which is further out so instead of taking the trotro, he needed a taxi. One pulled up and he chatted with the driver for a bit. Before getting in, he turned to me and said, ‘I’ll give you a lift.’ I jumped in the backseat and scored a free ride.
Home run!
(Attention men! Take notes. I’ve never wanted to give my number to a guy. Ever. That is, until this well-dressed-passport-getting-Ghanaian-man let me mooch a free taxi ride.)
(Attention Daddy! Don’t worry, I didn’t actually give him my number. I know better than to hang out with strange men.)
Tomorrow I will leave Accra to go to Kumasi. From there, I’ll meet an ICYE volunteer who will take me to Effiduasi where my host project is. It’s a small village a little ways out of Kumasi. There, I’ll finally be meeting my host family and seeing where I’ll be living for the next six months. I can’t wait.
As promised, below are some pictures from my first days in Ghana. I’m not too camera-happy because I don’t want to be rude. The advice I’ve received is to live in a place for a bit, figure out its comings and goings and then take the camera out.
Welcome at the airport.
So yesterday after lunch, I went to the US Embassy with my ICYE escort, Annie. We took one bus (trotro) and a group taxi and walked several blocks to get to the Embassy gate. The guard politely but unapologetically informed us that the Consular Office was closed for the day and I have to return the next morning.
Strike 1.
This morning started with Twi language lessons with our teacher Morgan. After class, I jetted out, hoping to make it to the Embassy before noon. This time I went by myself, which was both nerve-wracking and empowering. I took two trotros and walked the rest of the way. Dripping sweat, I arrived at the Consular Office where the attendant told me that all registrations are done through the internet. I couldn’t register in person if I wanted to.
Strike 2.
The trip wasn’t an epic fail, however. At one of the bus stops, a woman approached me and we started talking. She knew a few Chinese words and I wondered how. It turns out that she knew some people from Ghana Textiles, a company that employed many Chinese workers including, at one time, my grandfather.
Hit.
After the lady left, a young man came to the bus stop. He was well dressed and heck, I’ll admit it, kind of cute. He said hi and asked where I was going. ‘Police Hospital,’ I said. He was going to the passport office, which is further out so instead of taking the trotro, he needed a taxi. One pulled up and he chatted with the driver for a bit. Before getting in, he turned to me and said, ‘I’ll give you a lift.’ I jumped in the backseat and scored a free ride.
Home run!
(Attention men! Take notes. I’ve never wanted to give my number to a guy. Ever. That is, until this well-dressed-passport-getting-Ghanaian-man let me mooch a free taxi ride.)
(Attention Daddy! Don’t worry, I didn’t actually give him my number. I know better than to hang out with strange men.)
Tomorrow I will leave Accra to go to Kumasi. From there, I’ll meet an ICYE volunteer who will take me to Effiduasi where my host project is. It’s a small village a little ways out of Kumasi. There, I’ll finally be meeting my host family and seeing where I’ll be living for the next six months. I can’t wait.
As promised, below are some pictures from my first days in Ghana. I’m not too camera-happy because I don’t want to be rude. The advice I’ve received is to live in a place for a bit, figure out its comings and goings and then take the camera out.
Welcome at the airport.
The street outside the volunteer house in Accra.
The shore.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
I'm in Africa. For real.
I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to say, "Oh my goodness. I'm in Africa."
I landed in Accra early Tuesday morning where I was greeted with an obscene amount of heat and humidity. I was picked up by an ICYE worker and taken to the volunteer house where I'll be staying until Saturday. During my few days in Accra, I'll be going through orientation. It's a helpful but small step to understanding the vast differences between the US and Ghana.
Here are just a few of my first thoughts in Ghana:
1. I am obroni. Meaning 'white person'. I am also from the United States. Meaning 'money'.
2. Life here is slower. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the life.
3. The language here is unlike anything I've heard before. I'm learning a few key phrases which really helps to break the ice. Usually people just stare at me.
4. Running water and electricity are amazing blessings that no one should ever take for granted. I am slowly but surely learning to bathe from a bucket.
5. This is awesome.
Pictures will come, as soon as I figure out the logistics of getting them onto a computer that's not my own (i.e. a computer with internet).
I landed in Accra early Tuesday morning where I was greeted with an obscene amount of heat and humidity. I was picked up by an ICYE worker and taken to the volunteer house where I'll be staying until Saturday. During my few days in Accra, I'll be going through orientation. It's a helpful but small step to understanding the vast differences between the US and Ghana.
Here are just a few of my first thoughts in Ghana:
1. I am obroni. Meaning 'white person'. I am also from the United States. Meaning 'money'.
2. Life here is slower. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the life.
3. The language here is unlike anything I've heard before. I'm learning a few key phrases which really helps to break the ice. Usually people just stare at me.
4. Running water and electricity are amazing blessings that no one should ever take for granted. I am slowly but surely learning to bathe from a bucket.
5. This is awesome.
Pictures will come, as soon as I figure out the logistics of getting them onto a computer that's not my own (i.e. a computer with internet).
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Arsenal.
I've been packing all day so I thought I'd take a break and blog. Half my bag is underwear and medications. The other half is my insect repelling arsenal:
1 mosquito net
1 pair insect-repelling pants/shorts (the kind with zip-off legs)
1 insect-repelling short sleeve shirt
1 insect-repelling long sleeve shirt
2 4oz. bottles Ben's repellent (30% deet)
4 1.25oz. bottles Ben's repellent (98% deet)
2 2oz. Ultrathon repellent cream (34% deet)
1 tube Odomos repellent cream
24 Moskigo adhesive patches with Citronella scent
1 bottle B-1 vitamins
1 tub Vicks Vaporub
1 2oz. tube Cortaid Intensive Therapy
1 1oz. tube Benadryl Itch-Stopping Cream
I will use all of this at once if I have to. Those mosquitoes won't know what hit 'em.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Lists are good for keeping thoughts straight.
Six days and I'm off. I'm so overwhelmed with emotions, plans, excitement and fears that I can't keep my thoughts straight. I hope this is normal.
Things I'm trying not to freak out over:
1. Loneliness and culture shock. It's inevitable so I'm building my stockpile of coping mechanisms now. Music, books, etc. And I need to overcome my introversion.
2. Language barrier. English is the national language but most people, especially older generations, speak local dialects.
3. My living space. I can handle no electricity and no running water. But if I can't find privacy and space, I'll go nuts.
4. My health. Even stuff that should keep me healthy, like my malaria medicine, could make me sick. Its side effects include hallucinations and vivid dreams. It doesn't help that I just listened to a This American Life podcast about a guy who lost his memory while using the same medicine.
Reasons why Ghana will be awesome:
1. New people! I can't wait to meet my fellow teachers at the school. I don't know if there will be any other volunteers there, but it would also be nice to meet other international workers.
2. Kids! Working with kids is good at revealing what's really important.
3. Warm Weather! Philadelphia is getting two feet of snow tomorrow. The high in Ghana today is 82 degrees.
4. Escape! Sometimes it helps to take a step away from normality in order to understand it. I'm looking forward to what I will learn about myself.
Aside: To all those who have supported me with well wishes and funding, I owe you a HUGE HUGE THANK YOU! It is both humbling and motivating to know that you all care about me that much. Many thanks.
Things I'm trying not to freak out over:
1. Loneliness and culture shock. It's inevitable so I'm building my stockpile of coping mechanisms now. Music, books, etc. And I need to overcome my introversion.
2. Language barrier. English is the national language but most people, especially older generations, speak local dialects.
3. My living space. I can handle no electricity and no running water. But if I can't find privacy and space, I'll go nuts.
4. My health. Even stuff that should keep me healthy, like my malaria medicine, could make me sick. Its side effects include hallucinations and vivid dreams. It doesn't help that I just listened to a This American Life podcast about a guy who lost his memory while using the same medicine.
Reasons why Ghana will be awesome:
1. New people! I can't wait to meet my fellow teachers at the school. I don't know if there will be any other volunteers there, but it would also be nice to meet other international workers.
2. Kids! Working with kids is good at revealing what's really important.
3. Warm Weather! Philadelphia is getting two feet of snow tomorrow. The high in Ghana today is 82 degrees.
4. Escape! Sometimes it helps to take a step away from normality in order to understand it. I'm looking forward to what I will learn about myself.
Aside: To all those who have supported me with well wishes and funding, I owe you a HUGE HUGE THANK YOU! It is both humbling and motivating to know that you all care about me that much. Many thanks.
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