Dearest friends,
I have returned to Accra safe and sound after traveling for the past 52 days. This will most likely be the final post on the blog, so I will do my best to tell you about Burkina as well as talk a little bit about the trip as a whole.
I believe I went through three phases during this trip. The first phase involved being a tourist as I visited mountains and waterfalls in Togo, the Route of Slaves in Ouidah, and the Safari I took in Natitingou. I then began the next phase as a student of the world, where I wanted to do everything off the tourist track; to learn about different ways of life, different cultures and histories, different regional languages. This was when I stayed with a couchsurfer in Niamey, a peace corp volunteer in Malbaza, took the long pinasse ride to Tombouctou on a cargo boat, and stayed in the desert with a Tuareg friend of mine. When I arrived in Burkina, I reached a third phase that at first was difficult to categorize.
It took me two days to reach the capital of Burkina Faso, Ouaga. I departed Tombouctou at 3am, even though the 4 by 4 driver told me 4am and rudely awoke me an hour early. Regardless, a rough trip through the desert commenced at 5am and we finally reached Bandiagara in the afternoon. In Bandiagara we waited for a while for a "bus", which was essentially the back of a cargo van with the seats taken out and wooden benches lining the sides. I opened the back door to find that the bus was completely full except for the space on the ground on top of the tire, so thats where I sat for the next couple hours struggling to find a place to put my feet among the bags on the ground. It was nonetheless a funny image, a white person sitting in the midst of 20 or more Africans sitting on benches. I heard the click of a cameraphone from the women in front of me, so which I responded "Photo, cadeau cadeau" as all the little African children do. This much amused the rest of the bus. Nonetheless, I spent the night sleeping on the ground in Koro waiting for the bus the next day and finally arrived in Ouaga late the next day after about 2 days of travel.
Having finally reached Ouaga, I was tired. I had been traveling for quite some time to reach it. I wasnt really in the mood to go to the touristy areas of Bobo and Banfora which offered touristy things very similar to Kpalime, Togo and neither did I feel like staying in a small village in line with my second phase. Instead I spent the days in Ouaga, relaxing. I went to see movies at the French Cultural Center, meet up with Peace Corp volunteers to celebrate 4th of July, took myself out to a really nice dinner with steak marinated in bourbon. The third phase of my trip was very much like summer vacation. I had gone from tourist to student of the world and now just wanted to stay in one city and live the life as if I was on vacation. So to be honest, I dont have that much to tell you about life in Burkina or culture and history or really crazy experiences.
Nonetheless, my last night in town I went with a friend of mine to listen to his African drum band play. We arrived in this compound with a house and covered area with chairs. We sat and listened as 6 people enthusiastically played the drums. As they played, neighborhood children came and danced in front of the drummers. The older children banged their tomato cans that they use to collect cadeaus and the younger kids danced. Unfortunately, the conversation afterwards was interrupted by a large storm which came. The two french people that were there watching with me got out in time, but I didnt get to leave before the winds came so I was stuck in this tiny room with 8 other people to wait out the storm. As we came out after the storm, we were sad to discover that the covered area had all blown down and was now a mix of straw and wood on the ground. Such is the African rainy season!
Coming back into Ghana, I was amazed to be riding on the STC bus with air conditioning and a TV. It had been a long time since I had such amenities on a bus. Arriving in the country, I started seeing little things that to me are only in Ghana. Here are a couple:
1. 4 seats, 4 people: In Ghana you can take a tro tro in which four seats will actually be for four people. In every other country I went they would stuff as many people as possible into the small space. A taxi cab for 4 people in Ghana would fit 10 in Niger, the bed of a pick up truck sits 18 on wooden benches.
2. Wokaw hen: In Ghana its common for people to ask where you are going out of curiousity or to help you. In no other country did people ask me where I was going, the first comment was usually cadeau or do you need X.
After being here for so long I started to miss things that I didnt expect to miss. I have really missed understanding side conversations. Its frequent that I will be on a taxi or bus and everyone starts laughing or yelling about something I dont understand why or something strange happens and everyone starts talking about what happens but I cant understand the explanation even if its in French. I also miss not being the center of attention, everywhere I go because I am white everybody watches me or is curious, if I do something out of the ordinary everyone nearby notices. It will be nice to go back to being just a member of the crowd again.
This whole trip has really been a learning experience. Although it hasnt necessarily helped me figure out what I will do with my life, I have picked up some important life skills like knowing who to trust, trusting my instincts about a person or a situation, knowing how to get myself out of difficult situations in a foreign language, getting around in a brand new city and country. I have made some really good, life-long friends around the world. I have picked up some words in Hausa, Bambara, Tamasheq, and Dogon. I have some understaning of the life of nomads, of villagers in Niger, of the religion of Voodoo, of the African concept of time.
This journey has been a landmark in my life and I thank all of you for following me on this journey. I will see you all soon and I cannot wait to tell you all of my stories.
Best always,
Ben
Friday, July 10, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Mali-Diverse and exciting
Dearest friends,
I have so much to say about Mali that I actually had to outline this entry before writing it so Id be able to fit the important points. Mali is a huge country with Mopti as the capital of its heavily touristed section.
My trip began with the first night in an unusual hotel. Searching around for the cheapest hotel in Mopti, a generally very expensive place for tourists, I was given the name Bar Mali which wasnt in the guide book. Going there I found an extremely dirty and dark hotel, but with pleasant people. I was guided to my room in which the hall had a half broken wooden door which I was told to close when I came buy. The door divided about 6 rooms from the rest of the hotel and was about 6 feet high. I didnt quite understand its purpose because the other block of rooms didnt have a similar door. Regardless, the room had a working fan and a lock so it was great. I returned to the hotel around 8 or 9 and found the rooms in the hallway without the wooden door had a chair outside of every room with the door open and a nicely dressed woman sitting at the door. Apparently at night, half the hotel doubles as brothel for thirteen women that pay for the rooms until 1am. Obviously, nights there were a little noisy but it was a funny experience.
The next piece of the voyage was to Dogon country. This heavily touristed site is described by the guide book as being one of the top 10 places to see before you die. Its the home of the very culturally interesting Dogon people. Nonetheless, I wasnt particularly impressed. The location is quite beautiful because its nestled into the side of about a 1000 foot high cliff. I spent four days walking from one village to the next learning about Dogon culture, and learning a little bit of the language but this activity is heavily touristed. I did not really enjoy this experience that much and dont have too much to report about it, but because every single tourist that goes to Mali goes to Dogon, I had to at least tell you my thoughts.
Onto more interesting things. After Dogon, I took a pinasse ride up to Tombouctou, or as we spell it Timbuktu. I dont think Ive ever had such a mix of emotions. The whole trip was beautiful; watching herds of birds fly across the river at sunset, women and children washing bowls and clothes in the river, and bathing children who all shouted Toobaboo and waved excitedly as we passed. I went with my Spanish friend Millan who I mes in Dogon. The trip was to take 3 nights 4 days and we were in this maybe 20 meter long boat with hundreds of boxes of tea, bags of millet, and about 20 other people. Nights we slept on the boxes and bags. Our movement was about one meter between where we slept and the front of the boat where we sat for the best view except when it was too hot. As we traveled the water would frequently be too shallow so the crew, a family, would get out and push the boat in a circle until we could continue again. The small motor that powered the boat went about 35-50km per day perhaps.
The difficult part of the experience was being patient. You have no idea what is patience until you are at the whim on nature on a slow moving boat for a 300km journey without much time to spare. Especially considering that when we asked the captain how far it was he would respond with a distance that didnt make sense and there were dozens of incomprehensible stops. After 3 days on the boat it started to get to me because we had no idea where we were and it could be 10 days before we arrived given the wind, shallow water, stops, and slow speed. Not only that there was no way out because the villages we stopped at had no cars to Tombouctou to take. So we were stuck for who knows how long. On day 4, when we thought we were a couple hours from the end we were transfered to another boat because our boat ended its journey in Tonka. With this new driver and crew with an unknown number of days left it was challenging to be patient. In addition I started to get sick of eating a large portion of rice three times a day and only moving about 2 meters a day. So in essence this was the biggest test of my patience Ive ever had.
Nonetheless, there were funny experiences and good experiences. One night on the new boat while we were sleeping we felt something crawl over us multiple times, it was quite large and I felt 8 legs. I assumed it was a camel spider which can be about one foot or two feet large, telling Millan this he started to panic while I went back to sleep. I started to think about why it was called Camel Spider perhaps because it kills camels? So then I thought it wasnt a good idea either. Moving to the bamboo roof or the boat at 3 am we couldnt sleep anymore. We scanned the boat with a flashligh and about 10 minutes found out it was just a rat. Only in Africa would I remark, Oh Thank God Its Just A Rat, and go back to sleep, but we did.
Finally we heard the beautiful word Kouriome, the port for Tombouctu, on day six at about 2pm. I had overall clocked 120 hours on this small boat and was so glad to finally arrive. We really felt like explorers the whole way. tombouctou has a history of explorers who traveled fearing their lives and never made it to the fabled city. So having traveled similar to explorers I have quite an appreciation for how remote a place this is and how difficult it is to reach.
Meeting up with a friend of a friend, I arranged to spend 4 days in the desert with a nomadic people called the Taureg. The next morning, Al Halifa, my good friend for the next four days arrived with his two camels and took me to his house. This travel was not touristy as I stayed with Al Halifa and worked during the day with him, ate the same food, pumped water, and didnt pay for the extra tourist stuff. Al Halifa lives in a temporary house made of sticks and mats which stands up quite well to the Sahara dust storms and rains. Each day was similar and went something like this: wake up aruond 530, take two cups of tea and elewa for breakfast, locate the camels, feed the animals, break for the heat of the day to eat lunch, around 3 feed the animals again and come back in time for dinner. Now feeding the animals is not how it sounds. Halifa has 14 goats that roam the desert near the village. The first day we walked through the desert to some spot and sat down. Halifa lets out a high pitched EO multiple times and a kilometer in the distance I hear the response of goats. As he keeps calling they come to him at which point he takes his axe and cuts down part of a small tree and pulls it onto the ground for the animals to eat.
Now whats interesting is that because the Taureg are nomadic, they dont keep track of their ages or have birthdays. So one afternoon I had the strange experience of explaining to Halifa his age and birthday. He hands me a voting card that is in French, which he cannot read and barely speaks. I see the phrase date du naissane 12/31/80 and spend the afternoon explaining in broken French that this was his premiere jour, first day and that he is 28 and on this day hell be 29. He doesnt know the phrase birthday in English or French or Tamasheq so this was quite a strange experience for me, but particularly interesting.
Tombouctou, although synonomous with the end of the earth is actually the sister city of Tempe, AZ!!! When I got there and people asked me where I was from, I said Arizona and they said, do you know Tempe. I said, yes I am from there, how do you know Tempe! Voila!
Well, its down to the last week or so in Burkina Faso so I will keep you posted.
Best,
Ben
I have so much to say about Mali that I actually had to outline this entry before writing it so Id be able to fit the important points. Mali is a huge country with Mopti as the capital of its heavily touristed section.
My trip began with the first night in an unusual hotel. Searching around for the cheapest hotel in Mopti, a generally very expensive place for tourists, I was given the name Bar Mali which wasnt in the guide book. Going there I found an extremely dirty and dark hotel, but with pleasant people. I was guided to my room in which the hall had a half broken wooden door which I was told to close when I came buy. The door divided about 6 rooms from the rest of the hotel and was about 6 feet high. I didnt quite understand its purpose because the other block of rooms didnt have a similar door. Regardless, the room had a working fan and a lock so it was great. I returned to the hotel around 8 or 9 and found the rooms in the hallway without the wooden door had a chair outside of every room with the door open and a nicely dressed woman sitting at the door. Apparently at night, half the hotel doubles as brothel for thirteen women that pay for the rooms until 1am. Obviously, nights there were a little noisy but it was a funny experience.
The next piece of the voyage was to Dogon country. This heavily touristed site is described by the guide book as being one of the top 10 places to see before you die. Its the home of the very culturally interesting Dogon people. Nonetheless, I wasnt particularly impressed. The location is quite beautiful because its nestled into the side of about a 1000 foot high cliff. I spent four days walking from one village to the next learning about Dogon culture, and learning a little bit of the language but this activity is heavily touristed. I did not really enjoy this experience that much and dont have too much to report about it, but because every single tourist that goes to Mali goes to Dogon, I had to at least tell you my thoughts.
Onto more interesting things. After Dogon, I took a pinasse ride up to Tombouctou, or as we spell it Timbuktu. I dont think Ive ever had such a mix of emotions. The whole trip was beautiful; watching herds of birds fly across the river at sunset, women and children washing bowls and clothes in the river, and bathing children who all shouted Toobaboo and waved excitedly as we passed. I went with my Spanish friend Millan who I mes in Dogon. The trip was to take 3 nights 4 days and we were in this maybe 20 meter long boat with hundreds of boxes of tea, bags of millet, and about 20 other people. Nights we slept on the boxes and bags. Our movement was about one meter between where we slept and the front of the boat where we sat for the best view except when it was too hot. As we traveled the water would frequently be too shallow so the crew, a family, would get out and push the boat in a circle until we could continue again. The small motor that powered the boat went about 35-50km per day perhaps.
The difficult part of the experience was being patient. You have no idea what is patience until you are at the whim on nature on a slow moving boat for a 300km journey without much time to spare. Especially considering that when we asked the captain how far it was he would respond with a distance that didnt make sense and there were dozens of incomprehensible stops. After 3 days on the boat it started to get to me because we had no idea where we were and it could be 10 days before we arrived given the wind, shallow water, stops, and slow speed. Not only that there was no way out because the villages we stopped at had no cars to Tombouctou to take. So we were stuck for who knows how long. On day 4, when we thought we were a couple hours from the end we were transfered to another boat because our boat ended its journey in Tonka. With this new driver and crew with an unknown number of days left it was challenging to be patient. In addition I started to get sick of eating a large portion of rice three times a day and only moving about 2 meters a day. So in essence this was the biggest test of my patience Ive ever had.
Nonetheless, there were funny experiences and good experiences. One night on the new boat while we were sleeping we felt something crawl over us multiple times, it was quite large and I felt 8 legs. I assumed it was a camel spider which can be about one foot or two feet large, telling Millan this he started to panic while I went back to sleep. I started to think about why it was called Camel Spider perhaps because it kills camels? So then I thought it wasnt a good idea either. Moving to the bamboo roof or the boat at 3 am we couldnt sleep anymore. We scanned the boat with a flashligh and about 10 minutes found out it was just a rat. Only in Africa would I remark, Oh Thank God Its Just A Rat, and go back to sleep, but we did.
Finally we heard the beautiful word Kouriome, the port for Tombouctu, on day six at about 2pm. I had overall clocked 120 hours on this small boat and was so glad to finally arrive. We really felt like explorers the whole way. tombouctou has a history of explorers who traveled fearing their lives and never made it to the fabled city. So having traveled similar to explorers I have quite an appreciation for how remote a place this is and how difficult it is to reach.
Meeting up with a friend of a friend, I arranged to spend 4 days in the desert with a nomadic people called the Taureg. The next morning, Al Halifa, my good friend for the next four days arrived with his two camels and took me to his house. This travel was not touristy as I stayed with Al Halifa and worked during the day with him, ate the same food, pumped water, and didnt pay for the extra tourist stuff. Al Halifa lives in a temporary house made of sticks and mats which stands up quite well to the Sahara dust storms and rains. Each day was similar and went something like this: wake up aruond 530, take two cups of tea and elewa for breakfast, locate the camels, feed the animals, break for the heat of the day to eat lunch, around 3 feed the animals again and come back in time for dinner. Now feeding the animals is not how it sounds. Halifa has 14 goats that roam the desert near the village. The first day we walked through the desert to some spot and sat down. Halifa lets out a high pitched EO multiple times and a kilometer in the distance I hear the response of goats. As he keeps calling they come to him at which point he takes his axe and cuts down part of a small tree and pulls it onto the ground for the animals to eat.
Now whats interesting is that because the Taureg are nomadic, they dont keep track of their ages or have birthdays. So one afternoon I had the strange experience of explaining to Halifa his age and birthday. He hands me a voting card that is in French, which he cannot read and barely speaks. I see the phrase date du naissane 12/31/80 and spend the afternoon explaining in broken French that this was his premiere jour, first day and that he is 28 and on this day hell be 29. He doesnt know the phrase birthday in English or French or Tamasheq so this was quite a strange experience for me, but particularly interesting.
Tombouctou, although synonomous with the end of the earth is actually the sister city of Tempe, AZ!!! When I got there and people asked me where I was from, I said Arizona and they said, do you know Tempe. I said, yes I am from there, how do you know Tempe! Voila!
Well, its down to the last week or so in Burkina Faso so I will keep you posted.
Best,
Ben
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Niger-A different kind of traveling
Dearest friends,
Ina Uni, Hausa for Good Afternoon.
Niger is not a typically touristed country. Its on the bottom of the Human Development Index and is one of the poorest countries in the world; its main tourist attraction, the incredible Air Mountains, is off limits due to civil war. Arriving in Niger it is pretty much assumed that I am Peace Corps because almost no other Americans travel into Niger, even my French friends have been frequently asked if they were Peace Corps. Nonetheless, the country has some of the nicest people in the world and a very rich country in terms of history and culture.
My trip began in the capital city of Niamey where I tried this website called Couch Surfing and got set up with terrific French Sanitation Consultant who was my host for the next couple days. I spent a day at the market in Boubon, an area famous for its weekly market. Arriving around 9, I was greeted by a huge dirt area filled with hundreds of animals ranging from goats to horses to cows to donkeys. I jumped out of the way of an incoming cart being pulled by a donkey that was being directed by a distracted boy. It was incredible, tradition Hausa men bartered with Tuareg men over animals. I sat under a tree watching the interactions in a language I did not yet understand but was impressed by the calmness amidst the chaotic market. After a little while I walked through the market of palm frond stalls supported by large sticks where market women sold everything from spices to cloth and men sold everything from CDs to meat. Unlike most markets this one lies along the Niger river so lines of pirogues were docked along the shore with dowens of people waiting in the hot sun or under umbrellas waiting for their pirogues to be loaded with the large sacks of rice and millet they purchased. Nonetheless, different from Benin and Togo every single kid that saw me asked for a cadeau. I dont think I had a conversation beyond Bonjour that the response wasnt cadeau, but nonetheless it was a fascinating little market.
A couple days later I headed to Konni to stay with a Peace Corps volunteer in the village of Malbaza. I rested there for 5 days going everywhere with Sarah a new volunteer in the area that had been evacuated from Madagascar. I was close friends with the village chief and several other extremely charismatic people in the village. I watched American music videos with one person who had been in the US for three months, played soccer with Sarah and her girls soccer team, and picked up a fair amount of Hausa in five days.
I stood up with the village chief after he had just finished a ruling on Shariya, Islamic law, and went to pray. The chief, Hakami, had taught me how to pray and what to say so I walked up towards the prayer spot. Nearly 100 men lined the wall having taken off their shoes waiting to pray. Eventually a man dressed in traditional Hausa attire but all white began speaking in Arabic. The chief turned to me and would say the words one by one to me that I was to repeat. On occasion we would raise our hands and say something and after about 10 minutes it was finished.
I had a very charismatic friend named Na Galmi who was teaching me Hausa and inviting us over for tea everyday. One day he came back from the bush after work in a terrible fright saying that he was almost caught by an Aljini that tried to grab his arm. Sarah looked in her Huasa dictionary unsure of this word, and didnt find an adequate explanation. Apparently, this village as well as much of Niger believes that there are these genies which cause harm to people and live in piles of trash or in the bush. We spent a couple days learning about the whole practice. In Malbaza, people dump their trash in certain areas because they know it is the home to a genie and so Sara and I talked about the possibility of a trash clean up program by utilizing the fear of genies and their residence in these trash piles. It was interesting because it was a very culturally appropriate solution to this problem, and perhaps Sarah will continue with it for some results.
The days in the village of Malbaza were filled with greetings and conversations. In Hausa there are about 8 different greetings which you go through you meet someone that all have ritualized responses. Sometimes greetings are a couple seconds like "Sanu", "Yawaa" similar to Hello or longer like "Ina Gida" "Lahiya Lau" translates to How is your house and In good health. Days were spent building friendships over slow made cups of tea, eating local dishes, or learning local dance moves from the Master of Dance, an 80 year old agile woman. Niger although its not a hotspot for tourism really has some of the kindest and most friendly people on earth.
Sai Enjima-See you soon in Hausa,
Ben
Ina Uni, Hausa for Good Afternoon.
Niger is not a typically touristed country. Its on the bottom of the Human Development Index and is one of the poorest countries in the world; its main tourist attraction, the incredible Air Mountains, is off limits due to civil war. Arriving in Niger it is pretty much assumed that I am Peace Corps because almost no other Americans travel into Niger, even my French friends have been frequently asked if they were Peace Corps. Nonetheless, the country has some of the nicest people in the world and a very rich country in terms of history and culture.
My trip began in the capital city of Niamey where I tried this website called Couch Surfing and got set up with terrific French Sanitation Consultant who was my host for the next couple days. I spent a day at the market in Boubon, an area famous for its weekly market. Arriving around 9, I was greeted by a huge dirt area filled with hundreds of animals ranging from goats to horses to cows to donkeys. I jumped out of the way of an incoming cart being pulled by a donkey that was being directed by a distracted boy. It was incredible, tradition Hausa men bartered with Tuareg men over animals. I sat under a tree watching the interactions in a language I did not yet understand but was impressed by the calmness amidst the chaotic market. After a little while I walked through the market of palm frond stalls supported by large sticks where market women sold everything from spices to cloth and men sold everything from CDs to meat. Unlike most markets this one lies along the Niger river so lines of pirogues were docked along the shore with dowens of people waiting in the hot sun or under umbrellas waiting for their pirogues to be loaded with the large sacks of rice and millet they purchased. Nonetheless, different from Benin and Togo every single kid that saw me asked for a cadeau. I dont think I had a conversation beyond Bonjour that the response wasnt cadeau, but nonetheless it was a fascinating little market.
A couple days later I headed to Konni to stay with a Peace Corps volunteer in the village of Malbaza. I rested there for 5 days going everywhere with Sarah a new volunteer in the area that had been evacuated from Madagascar. I was close friends with the village chief and several other extremely charismatic people in the village. I watched American music videos with one person who had been in the US for three months, played soccer with Sarah and her girls soccer team, and picked up a fair amount of Hausa in five days.
I stood up with the village chief after he had just finished a ruling on Shariya, Islamic law, and went to pray. The chief, Hakami, had taught me how to pray and what to say so I walked up towards the prayer spot. Nearly 100 men lined the wall having taken off their shoes waiting to pray. Eventually a man dressed in traditional Hausa attire but all white began speaking in Arabic. The chief turned to me and would say the words one by one to me that I was to repeat. On occasion we would raise our hands and say something and after about 10 minutes it was finished.
I had a very charismatic friend named Na Galmi who was teaching me Hausa and inviting us over for tea everyday. One day he came back from the bush after work in a terrible fright saying that he was almost caught by an Aljini that tried to grab his arm. Sarah looked in her Huasa dictionary unsure of this word, and didnt find an adequate explanation. Apparently, this village as well as much of Niger believes that there are these genies which cause harm to people and live in piles of trash or in the bush. We spent a couple days learning about the whole practice. In Malbaza, people dump their trash in certain areas because they know it is the home to a genie and so Sara and I talked about the possibility of a trash clean up program by utilizing the fear of genies and their residence in these trash piles. It was interesting because it was a very culturally appropriate solution to this problem, and perhaps Sarah will continue with it for some results.
The days in the village of Malbaza were filled with greetings and conversations. In Hausa there are about 8 different greetings which you go through you meet someone that all have ritualized responses. Sometimes greetings are a couple seconds like "Sanu", "Yawaa" similar to Hello or longer like "Ina Gida" "Lahiya Lau" translates to How is your house and In good health. Days were spent building friendships over slow made cups of tea, eating local dishes, or learning local dance moves from the Master of Dance, an 80 year old agile woman. Niger although its not a hotspot for tourism really has some of the kindest and most friendly people on earth.
Sai Enjima-See you soon in Hausa,
Ben
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Benin, fascinating!
Dearest friends,
I have come to the end of my journey in Benin and it has been such an enlightening experience. Benin, much like Ghana has an educated population thqt loves to discuss politics as I have found out on at least three different bush taxi rides. Nonetheless, Benin is a unique place as a center of the slave trade, the Dahomey kings, and Voodoo.
My journey began with the small town of Ouidah. With its multitude to sights and monuments, unusually friendly people, and cobblestone streets it reminded me of historic Philadelphia. About 30 minutes after arriving we had walked nearly a kilometer with our backpacks so mine decided it was time to break. As I sat dejected next to my broken, I got a mango for consolation. Covered in the juice and hqving tied my pack back together, I was refreshed but was so happy to be greeted by a local woman who brought me water to wash off the mango juice. Ouidah is well known for the Route Des Esclaves, the 4km wlk that slaves took to the beach which is now decorated with voodoo symbols and other monuments. On the route to the ocean the slaves walked around The Tree of Forget, sorry I cant recall the exact name, but they walked around it three times to forget their homeland. Peppered with local parks I spent a lot of time sitting and hanging out. Apparently kids all the way across the world play very similar to how I did at a kid, it was nice to observe.
Abomey was the next stop, and will definitely be one of my favorite cities. Entering the village the first night I was surprised to see a procession of masked men beating drums with children following behind but not too close. Apparently this was part of a voodoo ceremony where the dead are returning back to the grave and if the children are touched by one of the masked men, they too will die. I had a unique opportunity to see the second part of the ceremony as well which consisted of a dancing free for all. Groups of some 5 people took turns dancing in front of a band. One of the things unique about the Voodoo religion is that it doesnt reject midgets or twins, but rather worships them. During the ceremony there were two female midgets who would dance as well as the swerving of their hips and subsequent falls would greatly amuse the crowd. They would pick out boys from the onlooking crowd and bring them to the center to dance on them so all the boys ran when they started dancing, but two unlucky ones got caught and were the centerpiece of the crowds enjoyment for some 15 minutes as they couldnt move while being danced on. Voodoo is a very complex religion very denigrated by Hollywood to the idea of Voodoo dolls. In actuality, Voodoo is composed of a supreme God and many lesser gods and the hr,ful voodoo dolls are actually pqrt of fetish which broke off from voodoo years ago. Voodoo and fetish are opposites. For instance if you wanted to cause harm to a person you would go to a fetish priest who would give you a prescription like the tail of a robin, skin of a hippo, head of viper, skull of crocodile and youd go to the fetish market and buy it. The priest would then take the ingredients grind them or burn them and put them inside a doll with a picture of the person. Now if you wanted to protect yourself fro, the harm the priest would cause by jabbing a needle into the doll, you carry a VOODOO doll. Voodoo is actually the counterbalance, in this case it protects you from fetish. Different than what I thought!
The next stop was Natitingou in Nothern Benin. The bus ride up nonetheless took quite a bit longer than expected because my bus didnt work so well. We would be crawling along the road passed by semi trucks competing with the goats walking along side the bus. Multiple times the bus broke down and wed get out and wait in the shade while they fixed it. At one point the bus started working as it was on top of the hill and so many of the passengers myself included ran alongside the bus to jump inside, much like Little Miss Sunshine style. Eventually the bus broke down entirely and we completed the last 200km in bush taxi which was also interesting because my driver decided he wanted to fit seven people rather than the typical six by adding a person next to him in the drivers seat.
After a 12 hour trip I finally arrived in Nati, as its called by the locals. I arranged to take a day long SAFARI in the nearby park of Pendjari. I met up with my driver at 5am and spent the day spotting baboons, antelopes, warthogs, some other species I couldnt identify. After a couple hours I was getting tired of it and frustrated because I hadnt seen any lions or elephants and I had paid enough to pet one. As we were driving along my driver turns to me and whispers, Les Elephants! Sure enough, there was a group of nine elephants trolling through the Savannah within 10 meter of the car. We just sat for a while and watched the fascinating creatures that on a one day Safari are only a slim chance to see. By then, the trip was worth it.
Theres a community of people in Northern Benin called the Somba that had resisted both the slave traders and Dahomey kings. Theyre houses are fascinating and are mainly composed of mud and rock but built in two or three levels. I stayed for a night with a Somba family and their house had two floors. The first was for cattle and chickens as well as defense mechanisms then there was a Y ladder made out of a tree branch with slivers cut out for foot holds that reached to the second level. On the second level was a small hut that you sleep in that you get into by lying on the ground and scuttling backwards until you can touch your feet to the ground by bending your waist. The whole to get in is just large enough for your shoulders. On the roof as well is large grain stores made of mud that look like teardrops with removable palm fronds as the cover. I spent the afternoon hoeing in the field with the children who do that every day after school. The kids were also a huge fan of the Uno game I brought with me which broke the ice immediately. I am sure that in just one day I played uno for 7 hours with 15 different kids!
The ride from Nati to Parakou, where I am now was a very typical Africa experience. Obviously, the car is packed with four people in the back and two people in the front seat. About two hours into the ride the car runs out of gas so our driver quickly driver to a nearby town and fills up while we wait under a tree along the road. Then were off again our trunk completely overloaded and tied closed and packed with passengers. We stop at the next village and two people in the car buy large white blobs of cheese but the sachets theyre in are not keeping out the water. So of course, the driver puts five large blobs of cheese on the hood of the car by the windsheild wipers and were off. Even though I wasnt a cheese owner I kept an eye on them to make sure they didnt fall off. Everything seemed to be in the clear until the only problem that could disturb the cheese game, the windsheild wipers started and didnt stop. I reached out my arm and grabbed a wiper to stop if from hitting two of the cheeses but it was still wiggling in my hand. We pulled over and unscrewed the wipers and were on our way. The cheese was safe and we arrived with little other trouble. C'est La Vie En Afrique!!
So next stop is Niger for the next week and a half. I will really miss Benin. Here I learned about the fascinating culture of the Tota Samba and the religion of Voodoo. I have decided that I am not really a tourist at this point. I am not staying in fancy hotels and avoiding locals, rather I am looking for culture and history. Therefore I see myself now as a Student of the World. Traveling to learn about different cultures, different ways of life, and the history of countries most Americans have never heard of.
Until next time,
Ben
I have come to the end of my journey in Benin and it has been such an enlightening experience. Benin, much like Ghana has an educated population thqt loves to discuss politics as I have found out on at least three different bush taxi rides. Nonetheless, Benin is a unique place as a center of the slave trade, the Dahomey kings, and Voodoo.
My journey began with the small town of Ouidah. With its multitude to sights and monuments, unusually friendly people, and cobblestone streets it reminded me of historic Philadelphia. About 30 minutes after arriving we had walked nearly a kilometer with our backpacks so mine decided it was time to break. As I sat dejected next to my broken, I got a mango for consolation. Covered in the juice and hqving tied my pack back together, I was refreshed but was so happy to be greeted by a local woman who brought me water to wash off the mango juice. Ouidah is well known for the Route Des Esclaves, the 4km wlk that slaves took to the beach which is now decorated with voodoo symbols and other monuments. On the route to the ocean the slaves walked around The Tree of Forget, sorry I cant recall the exact name, but they walked around it three times to forget their homeland. Peppered with local parks I spent a lot of time sitting and hanging out. Apparently kids all the way across the world play very similar to how I did at a kid, it was nice to observe.
Abomey was the next stop, and will definitely be one of my favorite cities. Entering the village the first night I was surprised to see a procession of masked men beating drums with children following behind but not too close. Apparently this was part of a voodoo ceremony where the dead are returning back to the grave and if the children are touched by one of the masked men, they too will die. I had a unique opportunity to see the second part of the ceremony as well which consisted of a dancing free for all. Groups of some 5 people took turns dancing in front of a band. One of the things unique about the Voodoo religion is that it doesnt reject midgets or twins, but rather worships them. During the ceremony there were two female midgets who would dance as well as the swerving of their hips and subsequent falls would greatly amuse the crowd. They would pick out boys from the onlooking crowd and bring them to the center to dance on them so all the boys ran when they started dancing, but two unlucky ones got caught and were the centerpiece of the crowds enjoyment for some 15 minutes as they couldnt move while being danced on. Voodoo is a very complex religion very denigrated by Hollywood to the idea of Voodoo dolls. In actuality, Voodoo is composed of a supreme God and many lesser gods and the hr,ful voodoo dolls are actually pqrt of fetish which broke off from voodoo years ago. Voodoo and fetish are opposites. For instance if you wanted to cause harm to a person you would go to a fetish priest who would give you a prescription like the tail of a robin, skin of a hippo, head of viper, skull of crocodile and youd go to the fetish market and buy it. The priest would then take the ingredients grind them or burn them and put them inside a doll with a picture of the person. Now if you wanted to protect yourself fro, the harm the priest would cause by jabbing a needle into the doll, you carry a VOODOO doll. Voodoo is actually the counterbalance, in this case it protects you from fetish. Different than what I thought!
The next stop was Natitingou in Nothern Benin. The bus ride up nonetheless took quite a bit longer than expected because my bus didnt work so well. We would be crawling along the road passed by semi trucks competing with the goats walking along side the bus. Multiple times the bus broke down and wed get out and wait in the shade while they fixed it. At one point the bus started working as it was on top of the hill and so many of the passengers myself included ran alongside the bus to jump inside, much like Little Miss Sunshine style. Eventually the bus broke down entirely and we completed the last 200km in bush taxi which was also interesting because my driver decided he wanted to fit seven people rather than the typical six by adding a person next to him in the drivers seat.
After a 12 hour trip I finally arrived in Nati, as its called by the locals. I arranged to take a day long SAFARI in the nearby park of Pendjari. I met up with my driver at 5am and spent the day spotting baboons, antelopes, warthogs, some other species I couldnt identify. After a couple hours I was getting tired of it and frustrated because I hadnt seen any lions or elephants and I had paid enough to pet one. As we were driving along my driver turns to me and whispers, Les Elephants! Sure enough, there was a group of nine elephants trolling through the Savannah within 10 meter of the car. We just sat for a while and watched the fascinating creatures that on a one day Safari are only a slim chance to see. By then, the trip was worth it.
Theres a community of people in Northern Benin called the Somba that had resisted both the slave traders and Dahomey kings. Theyre houses are fascinating and are mainly composed of mud and rock but built in two or three levels. I stayed for a night with a Somba family and their house had two floors. The first was for cattle and chickens as well as defense mechanisms then there was a Y ladder made out of a tree branch with slivers cut out for foot holds that reached to the second level. On the second level was a small hut that you sleep in that you get into by lying on the ground and scuttling backwards until you can touch your feet to the ground by bending your waist. The whole to get in is just large enough for your shoulders. On the roof as well is large grain stores made of mud that look like teardrops with removable palm fronds as the cover. I spent the afternoon hoeing in the field with the children who do that every day after school. The kids were also a huge fan of the Uno game I brought with me which broke the ice immediately. I am sure that in just one day I played uno for 7 hours with 15 different kids!
The ride from Nati to Parakou, where I am now was a very typical Africa experience. Obviously, the car is packed with four people in the back and two people in the front seat. About two hours into the ride the car runs out of gas so our driver quickly driver to a nearby town and fills up while we wait under a tree along the road. Then were off again our trunk completely overloaded and tied closed and packed with passengers. We stop at the next village and two people in the car buy large white blobs of cheese but the sachets theyre in are not keeping out the water. So of course, the driver puts five large blobs of cheese on the hood of the car by the windsheild wipers and were off. Even though I wasnt a cheese owner I kept an eye on them to make sure they didnt fall off. Everything seemed to be in the clear until the only problem that could disturb the cheese game, the windsheild wipers started and didnt stop. I reached out my arm and grabbed a wiper to stop if from hitting two of the cheeses but it was still wiggling in my hand. We pulled over and unscrewed the wipers and were on our way. The cheese was safe and we arrived with little other trouble. C'est La Vie En Afrique!!
So next stop is Niger for the next week and a half. I will really miss Benin. Here I learned about the fascinating culture of the Tota Samba and the religion of Voodoo. I have decided that I am not really a tourist at this point. I am not staying in fancy hotels and avoiding locals, rather I am looking for culture and history. Therefore I see myself now as a Student of the World. Traveling to learn about different cultures, different ways of life, and the history of countries most Americans have never heard of.
Until next time,
Ben
Friday, May 22, 2009
Togo, the journey begins
Bonjour Mes Amis,
I am sitting in a internet place in Togo, struggling to grasp the French keyboard which has all the letters in different places, so this entry will be shorter than it would be if I had an English keyboard, lol.
First I spent three days in Kpalime, Togo. Kpalime is a naturally beautiful village with dozons of NGOs and therefore a multitude of Yovos, or white people in the local language of Ewe. Within 5 minutes of arriving at my hotel I met two European girls who I met up with later that night to play Uno, a game apparently played outside of the US as well. I met a nice guide named Yanique who only spoke French. At first it was quite difficult to communicate, but I am getting the hang of speaking in French, so it got better over the next couple days. On Tuesday I hiked Mt. Agou, the tallest Mountain in Togo.
We started by taking taxi motos from Kpalime and up the Mountain, when I realized that we seemed to be going all the way to the peak on a moto, I somehow communicated to my driver to stop and my interest in hiking to the top with Yanique. I thought Yunique said "Doux kilometres" to the top, but it was actually douze, meaning 12. So it was a long walk! Halfway I got really tired because it was all up hill, but I was somehow able to reconcentrate my energy by singing in my head so I was not tired. It was really strange because I don't much believe in the power of focusing energy, but I guess now I do because somehow I hiked other 4 kilometres before taking a break. We reached a village about 2 km from the top that was nestled into the side of the Mountain and had a gorgeous view of most of Southern Togo. After a stair master like trek through the village, I was forced to take a break. Nonetheless, the view from the top was magnificent minus the 1000 CFA I had to pay the gaurd to be allowed entry. On the way back I sang simple songs in French with Yanique like the French version of she's comin' round the mountain.
That afternoon, after a short break we headed to Kpime falls, which was very picturesque. Nonetheless, as we stood by the Falls, the thunder first and then a hard rain came. We gunned it out of the Mountainous area around the falls and took shelter with some nice old men in the Hydroeletric Center. The next day I went to Kloutu, a local village in the Mountains well known for butterfly walks. I arrived at Auberge Du Papillons and shortly afterwards hiked through the forest towards a small waterfall with two Danish girls and our guide. On the way I caught three butterflies myself with the guide's net, which for me was quite exciting.
Yesterday I took a bush taxi to Lome. There are multiple types of bush taxis, the one I took at that point was like a minivan with several extra seats on cushions in the spare space. The one I took today was a regular taxi where they pack 2 people into the front seat and 4 into the back. Now, we complain about the b**** seat in the US, but that's nothing like siting on the gear shift in the front seat. Not knowing what to expect I sat in the front, and was blessed with the most "comfortable" seat on top of the gear shift.
Anyway, so coming to Lome was interesting... At first we were driving around with this one man in a green shirt. We stopped at places all over town picking up passengers. Then we stopped at the gas station and the driver got down, and two men ran into the car and one got in the front, started the car and gunned it off. He was shouting something in Ewe, said something about "No Go Pay" and the other passengers were laughing. Several minutes later he got a call from someone, who I assume was the original driver to which he shouted a string of words in Ewe and hung up. I think the car might have been stolen by a friend of the driver but I have no idea. My friend Kevin who was traveling with me turns to me and says, "As long as we get to Lome I don't really care".
We arrived in Lome fine and so I spent the day exploring the town. I visited the Grand Marche, the beach and then headed to the national museum. The museum was closed because of V day but there was a long line in front of the nearby building so I went to investigate. Apparently, there was a concert going on and from my basic level of French I gathered it was religious. So in response to will you buy a ticket, I told her "why not" and got in line.
I don't think I've ever felt so out of place. There I was surrounded by nicely dressed people in colorful African attire as if going to church. I was the only white person in a line of 1,000 people and I was wearing a dirty white t shirt, shorts, and flip flops with sand still obviously on my legs from the beach. On top of it, I was waiting to enter a Protestant Concert while wearing my Chabad shirt with states clearly on the back "Center for Jewish Life on campus". After a long two hours of waiting in line, I went in and took a seat. At that point it didn't really matter any more because I wasn't the center of attention anymore but was still the only white person in the theater of some 4,000 people. There was a small stage in the front where after about 15 minutes an announcer came up and introduced the group. Subsequently groups of 1 to 3 persons would come on stage and sing a religious song of some sort. People were in the aisles dancing, shaking their hands, eyes closed in prayer-it was quite an interesting but fun experience. I, of course, was dancing as well, much to the amusement of my non-Yovo neighbors. Definitely an interesting experience to say the least.
Today I went to Togoville and the market in Vogan, but nothing particularly interesting to report there besides a nice church and the beginnings of fetish markets, a phenomenon I'll surely explain after visiting Benin.
Next stop Benin starting tommorow in Ouida.
Au Revoir,
Ben
I am sitting in a internet place in Togo, struggling to grasp the French keyboard which has all the letters in different places, so this entry will be shorter than it would be if I had an English keyboard, lol.
First I spent three days in Kpalime, Togo. Kpalime is a naturally beautiful village with dozons of NGOs and therefore a multitude of Yovos, or white people in the local language of Ewe. Within 5 minutes of arriving at my hotel I met two European girls who I met up with later that night to play Uno, a game apparently played outside of the US as well. I met a nice guide named Yanique who only spoke French. At first it was quite difficult to communicate, but I am getting the hang of speaking in French, so it got better over the next couple days. On Tuesday I hiked Mt. Agou, the tallest Mountain in Togo.
We started by taking taxi motos from Kpalime and up the Mountain, when I realized that we seemed to be going all the way to the peak on a moto, I somehow communicated to my driver to stop and my interest in hiking to the top with Yanique. I thought Yunique said "Doux kilometres" to the top, but it was actually douze, meaning 12. So it was a long walk! Halfway I got really tired because it was all up hill, but I was somehow able to reconcentrate my energy by singing in my head so I was not tired. It was really strange because I don't much believe in the power of focusing energy, but I guess now I do because somehow I hiked other 4 kilometres before taking a break. We reached a village about 2 km from the top that was nestled into the side of the Mountain and had a gorgeous view of most of Southern Togo. After a stair master like trek through the village, I was forced to take a break. Nonetheless, the view from the top was magnificent minus the 1000 CFA I had to pay the gaurd to be allowed entry. On the way back I sang simple songs in French with Yanique like the French version of she's comin' round the mountain.
That afternoon, after a short break we headed to Kpime falls, which was very picturesque. Nonetheless, as we stood by the Falls, the thunder first and then a hard rain came. We gunned it out of the Mountainous area around the falls and took shelter with some nice old men in the Hydroeletric Center. The next day I went to Kloutu, a local village in the Mountains well known for butterfly walks. I arrived at Auberge Du Papillons and shortly afterwards hiked through the forest towards a small waterfall with two Danish girls and our guide. On the way I caught three butterflies myself with the guide's net, which for me was quite exciting.
Yesterday I took a bush taxi to Lome. There are multiple types of bush taxis, the one I took at that point was like a minivan with several extra seats on cushions in the spare space. The one I took today was a regular taxi where they pack 2 people into the front seat and 4 into the back. Now, we complain about the b**** seat in the US, but that's nothing like siting on the gear shift in the front seat. Not knowing what to expect I sat in the front, and was blessed with the most "comfortable" seat on top of the gear shift.
Anyway, so coming to Lome was interesting... At first we were driving around with this one man in a green shirt. We stopped at places all over town picking up passengers. Then we stopped at the gas station and the driver got down, and two men ran into the car and one got in the front, started the car and gunned it off. He was shouting something in Ewe, said something about "No Go Pay" and the other passengers were laughing. Several minutes later he got a call from someone, who I assume was the original driver to which he shouted a string of words in Ewe and hung up. I think the car might have been stolen by a friend of the driver but I have no idea. My friend Kevin who was traveling with me turns to me and says, "As long as we get to Lome I don't really care".
We arrived in Lome fine and so I spent the day exploring the town. I visited the Grand Marche, the beach and then headed to the national museum. The museum was closed because of V day but there was a long line in front of the nearby building so I went to investigate. Apparently, there was a concert going on and from my basic level of French I gathered it was religious. So in response to will you buy a ticket, I told her "why not" and got in line.
I don't think I've ever felt so out of place. There I was surrounded by nicely dressed people in colorful African attire as if going to church. I was the only white person in a line of 1,000 people and I was wearing a dirty white t shirt, shorts, and flip flops with sand still obviously on my legs from the beach. On top of it, I was waiting to enter a Protestant Concert while wearing my Chabad shirt with states clearly on the back "Center for Jewish Life on campus". After a long two hours of waiting in line, I went in and took a seat. At that point it didn't really matter any more because I wasn't the center of attention anymore but was still the only white person in the theater of some 4,000 people. There was a small stage in the front where after about 15 minutes an announcer came up and introduced the group. Subsequently groups of 1 to 3 persons would come on stage and sing a religious song of some sort. People were in the aisles dancing, shaking their hands, eyes closed in prayer-it was quite an interesting but fun experience. I, of course, was dancing as well, much to the amusement of my non-Yovo neighbors. Definitely an interesting experience to say the least.
Today I went to Togoville and the market in Vogan, but nothing particularly interesting to report there besides a nice church and the beginnings of fetish markets, a phenomenon I'll surely explain after visiting Benin.
Next stop Benin starting tommorow in Ouida.
Au Revoir,
Ben
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Travel Itinerary
Dearest friends,
I will be backpacking around West Africa for the next two months and returning to the US on July 13th. Here is the itinerary for me trip!
Sunday May 17th: Depart Accra for Ho, overnight in Ho
Monday May 18th: Depart Ho for Kpalime
May 18-21 Kpalime, Togo, 3 nights
• May 19-Hike Mt. Aguo (20km S.E.)
• May 20-Day trip to Kloutu to have butterfly tour
-Return to Grand Marche to shop
• May 21- Kpime Falls, no need for guide
• May 22-Travel to Lome
May 22-24 Lome, Togo, 3 nights
• May 22- Friday market at Vogon
• May 23- Musee National, bike around Lome
• May 24- Day trip to Agbodrafo for water sports and Togoville (center of Voodoo)
• May 25- Leave for Cotonou
May 25- 27 Cotonou, Benin, 3 nights
• May 25- Grand Marche, get situated
• May 26- Day trip to Ganvie for Lake Nokoue stilt village
• May 27- Day trip to Ouidah for Route Des Esclaves, Sacred Forest
• May 28- Depart for Abomey (3 hours)
May 28-29 Abomey, Benin, 2 nights
• May 28- Musee Hitorique d’Abomey, get situated
• May 29- Day trip for Dahomey Trail, Ask at Hotel La Lutta
• May 30- Depart for Natitingou
May 30 Natitingou, Benin, 1 night
• May 30- Day trip to Boukoumbe, capital Samba country, buy smoking pipe
• May 31- Depart for Kandi
May 31-June 1 Kandi, Benin, 2 nights
• June 1- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 2- Depart for Malanville (wait bus to Niamey) or Gaya, Niger for taxis
June 2-6 Niamey, Niger, 3 nights
• June 2- Arrive and check-in
• June 3- Day trip to Boubon for Wednesday Market
• June 4- Muse National du Niger, Grande Mosque, Priogue ride at sunset
• June 5- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 6- Depart for Zinder (9-12 hours)
June 6-8 Zinder, Niger, 3 nights
• June 6- Arrive and relax
• June 7- Birni Quarter, Palais Du Sultan tour, Zengou Quarter
• June 8- Grande Marche, Cooperative du Village Artisanal
• June 9- Return to Niamey
June 10 Niamey, Niger, 1 night
• June 10- arrive and rest
• June 11- Depart for Gao, Mali to Mopti
June 11 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 11- arrive and relax
• June 12,13- Prepare Niger boat ride
June 14-16 Niger Boat Ride, Mali
• June 14- Depart Mopti
• June 16- Arrive Timbuktu
June 16-19 Timbuktu, Mali, 4 nights, 3 in hotel
• June 16- arrive and relax
• June 17- Dyingerey Ber Mosque, Ethnological Museum, Grand Marche
• June 18-19- Overnight trip by camel into desert
• June 20- Depart for Mopti, full day, 12,500 CFA
June 20-21 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 20- arrive and relax
• June 21- Prepare Dogon Country Trek
June 22-25 Dogon Country, Mali
• June 22- Nombori
• June 23- Ireli
• June 24- Tireli
• June 25- Up to Sanga
June 25 Mopti, Mali, 1 night
• June 25- Arrive and relax
• June 26- Depart for Ouga
June 26-27 Ouaga, Burkina Faso, 2 nights
• June 26- Arrive and relax; check out night life
• June 27- Musee De la Musique, Centre Culturel Francais concert
• June 28- Depart Bobo
June 28-30 Bobo, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• June 28-Arrive Bobo, Grand Marche, Grand Mosque, Kidibwe
• June 29- Hire moped for day,
• June 30- Day trip to Koro or Mare aux Poissons Sacres
• July 1- Travel to Banfora
June 30- July 3 Banfora, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• July 1- Arrive Banfora, Tengrela Lake
• July 2- Day trip to Karfiguela & Domes
• July 3- Day trip to Sindou Peaks
• July 4- Depart for Hamale from Banfora (4 hours) or Bobo to Wa
July 4 Wa, Ghana, 1 night (expensive, avoid if possible)
• July 4- Arrive Wa, explore Sahelian architecture
• July 5- Depart for Larabanga
July 5 Larabanga, Ghana, 1 night
• July 5- Arrive Larabanga, tour of Mosque
• July 6- 7am Safari in Mole
• July 7- 4am bus to Tamale to Makongo, ferry to Yeji
July 8-10 Ferry Boat Ride to Akosombo, Ghana
• Depart Yeji Wednesday at 4pm, check time
• Arrive Akosombo, Friday July 10
July 10-13 Homestay, or leeway time
• Arrive and relax
July 13 Flight to United States!
July 14-18 New York City, 3 nights
I'll do my best to keep you all updated on my travels by the blog but I will probably have less internet access than I have in Ghana. Miss you all and I can't wait to share my experiences with you when I get back!
All the best,
Ben
I will be backpacking around West Africa for the next two months and returning to the US on July 13th. Here is the itinerary for me trip!
Sunday May 17th: Depart Accra for Ho, overnight in Ho
Monday May 18th: Depart Ho for Kpalime
May 18-21 Kpalime, Togo, 3 nights
• May 19-Hike Mt. Aguo (20km S.E.)
• May 20-Day trip to Kloutu to have butterfly tour
-Return to Grand Marche to shop
• May 21- Kpime Falls, no need for guide
• May 22-Travel to Lome
May 22-24 Lome, Togo, 3 nights
• May 22- Friday market at Vogon
• May 23- Musee National, bike around Lome
• May 24- Day trip to Agbodrafo for water sports and Togoville (center of Voodoo)
• May 25- Leave for Cotonou
May 25- 27 Cotonou, Benin, 3 nights
• May 25- Grand Marche, get situated
• May 26- Day trip to Ganvie for Lake Nokoue stilt village
• May 27- Day trip to Ouidah for Route Des Esclaves, Sacred Forest
• May 28- Depart for Abomey (3 hours)
May 28-29 Abomey, Benin, 2 nights
• May 28- Musee Hitorique d’Abomey, get situated
• May 29- Day trip for Dahomey Trail, Ask at Hotel La Lutta
• May 30- Depart for Natitingou
May 30 Natitingou, Benin, 1 night
• May 30- Day trip to Boukoumbe, capital Samba country, buy smoking pipe
• May 31- Depart for Kandi
May 31-June 1 Kandi, Benin, 2 nights
• June 1- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 2- Depart for Malanville (wait bus to Niamey) or Gaya, Niger for taxis
June 2-6 Niamey, Niger, 3 nights
• June 2- Arrive and check-in
• June 3- Day trip to Boubon for Wednesday Market
• June 4- Muse National du Niger, Grande Mosque, Priogue ride at sunset
• June 5- Day trip to Parc De W
• June 6- Depart for Zinder (9-12 hours)
June 6-8 Zinder, Niger, 3 nights
• June 6- Arrive and relax
• June 7- Birni Quarter, Palais Du Sultan tour, Zengou Quarter
• June 8- Grande Marche, Cooperative du Village Artisanal
• June 9- Return to Niamey
June 10 Niamey, Niger, 1 night
• June 10- arrive and rest
• June 11- Depart for Gao, Mali to Mopti
June 11 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 11- arrive and relax
• June 12,13- Prepare Niger boat ride
June 14-16 Niger Boat Ride, Mali
• June 14- Depart Mopti
• June 16- Arrive Timbuktu
June 16-19 Timbuktu, Mali, 4 nights, 3 in hotel
• June 16- arrive and relax
• June 17- Dyingerey Ber Mosque, Ethnological Museum, Grand Marche
• June 18-19- Overnight trip by camel into desert
• June 20- Depart for Mopti, full day, 12,500 CFA
June 20-21 Mopti, Mali, 2 nights
• June 20- arrive and relax
• June 21- Prepare Dogon Country Trek
June 22-25 Dogon Country, Mali
• June 22- Nombori
• June 23- Ireli
• June 24- Tireli
• June 25- Up to Sanga
June 25 Mopti, Mali, 1 night
• June 25- Arrive and relax
• June 26- Depart for Ouga
June 26-27 Ouaga, Burkina Faso, 2 nights
• June 26- Arrive and relax; check out night life
• June 27- Musee De la Musique, Centre Culturel Francais concert
• June 28- Depart Bobo
June 28-30 Bobo, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• June 28-Arrive Bobo, Grand Marche, Grand Mosque, Kidibwe
• June 29- Hire moped for day,
• June 30- Day trip to Koro or Mare aux Poissons Sacres
• July 1- Travel to Banfora
June 30- July 3 Banfora, Burkina Faso, 3 nights
• July 1- Arrive Banfora, Tengrela Lake
• July 2- Day trip to Karfiguela & Domes
• July 3- Day trip to Sindou Peaks
• July 4- Depart for Hamale from Banfora (4 hours) or Bobo to Wa
July 4 Wa, Ghana, 1 night (expensive, avoid if possible)
• July 4- Arrive Wa, explore Sahelian architecture
• July 5- Depart for Larabanga
July 5 Larabanga, Ghana, 1 night
• July 5- Arrive Larabanga, tour of Mosque
• July 6- 7am Safari in Mole
• July 7- 4am bus to Tamale to Makongo, ferry to Yeji
July 8-10 Ferry Boat Ride to Akosombo, Ghana
• Depart Yeji Wednesday at 4pm, check time
• Arrive Akosombo, Friday July 10
July 10-13 Homestay, or leeway time
• Arrive and relax
July 13 Flight to United States!
July 14-18 New York City, 3 nights
I'll do my best to keep you all updated on my travels by the blog but I will probably have less internet access than I have in Ghana. Miss you all and I can't wait to share my experiences with you when I get back!
All the best,
Ben
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Lost Jewish Tribe in Ghana
Dearest friends,
This past weekend was a particularly interesting experience. For several months, I had heard obscure references to this Jewish community in Ghana. I was very surprised to hear about this given the outwardly Christian orientation of Ghana, and didn't know how a Jewish community could exist or thrive here. A friend of mine, Sagie and I ventured this weekend to a Jewish community in New Adiembra a community in the middle of no where, hours from the major city of Kumasi.
As we found out, this small community of New Adiembra had for centuries not worked on Saturday (Shabbat). Hundreds of years ago the chief would fine those who worked or exchanged money on Saturday. In 1977, a local pastor recieved a vision while staring at a wall that he should "Find the lost Jewish tribe in Ghana". He began preaching Jewish scripture to villages all over, and eventually found this town of New Adiembra that seemed to be living Jewish scripture but was predominately Christian. As he started sharing Jewish scripture, it became increasingly attractive to the members of this community who viewed it as making sense of their traditions and history. Now there is a synagogue, the only in Ghana, with about 50-90 members.
We arrived at the community at around 6:30 on Friday afternoon after traveling the entire day. We asked around for Joseph Armah, and immediately were taken to this large compound and walked right to a guest room. On the TV in the guest room was a Havdallah candle, candle sticks, a stuffed Torah, and a spices container. On the window was a small banner reading "Only One God". It was at that point that I knew we had reached a special community. Our host, Joseph had gone to a funeral that day and was ritually unclean and therefore didn't light the Shabbat candles. Nonetheless, we sat around after dinner and discussed the challenges of being Jewish in Ghana. Up until just 8 years ago, members of the synagogue were bothered by community members saying, "You don't believe in Jesus?". However, now the Jewish community is growing and doesn't face as much resistance from the surrounding community.
Saturday morning, we awoke and went to Shul. This was a phrase that I never imagined I'd say in Ghana. After riding on the bus to Kumasi and having a loud preacher lecture for about an hour, I never thought that I would find a Jewish community. We walked through the town to a small blue and white cement building. Inside we found 10 pews, 5 on each side with a table in the front with three chairs. Behind the table were three bookcases, the first with Torahs and Siddurim and the second and third with Jewish childrens and adult books. I found my Hebrew School learning hebrew book from 3rd grade! There were about 10 children and 2 adults present, the children were sitting reading the books to each other and the adults were chatting. We greeted the men sitting at the table in the front who said to us, "Shabbat Shalom". I noticed the room was divided with men on one side and women on the other separated by an aisle for walking, so we sat on the right side. I was amazed by the number of children present, it was about 80% children, directly contrasting with the elderly direction of my congregation at home.
The service began and the room filled up to it's capacity with about 50 people present. We read through most of the prayers in English starting with Ma Tovu all the way through the Torah service. The most powerful part was the only part that was in Hebrew and the only part that was sung: Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. At that point I was blown away by the entire experience. We had listened to English speaking and even prayers adopted into Twi songs, but this was the first words of Hebrew we heard. I couldn't believe that I was at a service of Jews in Ghana! As the leaders read the Torah, they read the verses of Parshat Emor in English, translated them into Twi and explained them as they went. Each verse was made applicable to the population and then the leaders turned to me and Sagie and asked, "Is America do the Cohens observe all this about not defiling themselves?" and other questions about the application of the readings in America. We answered to the best we could and the leader would translate for us. We explained the Mikvah as a source of purification and how the most religious, Orthodox Jews, may observe many of these customs but I as a Conservative Jew do not. In addition, we explained how the mourning process works after a death for Jews in America. As we learned, this community doesn't know whether they are Cohen, Levi, or Israelite. Nonetheless, they made an effort to apply the portion to their lives even though portion explains the laws for each of these groups. Throughout the service there were Twi songs, people got up and clapped, and the children were involved and participatory.
We were planning to leave on Saturday afternoon. When the leader asked us during the service how long we planned to stay he commented, "This community has not granted you permission to leave as we do not travel on Shabbat". It was quite surprising, but we adopted our schedules to stay for the rest of the day and leave the following morning. The rest of the day we spent touring around the village, reading Mishnah with the leader, and talking with the training Rabbi. Alex joined the congregation in 1990 as he saw in a dream that he should support the Jewish people. He used to be a pastor but began to study Judaism and is now training in Uganda to be a Rabbi. He told us that he spends about 90% of his time on the Jewish community through teaching members Hebrew, leading classes on Saturday afternoon, and being there to support community members. After his 4 year program to train as a Rabbi, Alex is going to work on researching the history of this community and continuing to build it.
One of the girls that had been guiding us around and who had been obsessed with Sagie's camera told us to stop and "Video". At which point we turned on the video and she started singing the Aleph-Bet song and other Jewish songs in Hebrew. It was quite funny, because this could have been a Hebrew school kid in the US but it wasn't it was a small Jewish community in the middle of Ghana surrounded by very Christian influences.
Overall it really got me thinking. For a while I've thought that I was Jewish by culture and by tradition, but didn't necessarily study the laws or know the scripture. I didn't think Judaism was more inherently right than other religions. But now I think that there is something right about Judaism. It was something strong enough to push members of a very Christian country to become a struggling Jewish community in the middle of Ghana. This community existed stripped of what I thought was essential for Judaism. Even in an area where it's not possible to buy Kosher foods at the store, it's not yet prevalent to have Bar Mitzvah's, and there's no parents that have raised you Jewish. Nonetheless, this community saw the value of what was written in the scripture and the power of living Jewishly. They have adopted the laws to themselves and keep Kosher even to the extent of slaughtering the animals properly. This was a pure form of Judaism that had to battle against Christian dominance, where everyone involved chose to be involved because they viewed it as right, where the text mattered just as much as living the Jewish culture. I've always seen myself as a cultural Jew and didn't think that there much more of a sensible way to live for me. But now, I feel that there is so much to be gained from studying Jewish scripture and knowing the text. I guess there's more to Judaism for me now than being a cultural Jew.
Best,
Ben
This past weekend was a particularly interesting experience. For several months, I had heard obscure references to this Jewish community in Ghana. I was very surprised to hear about this given the outwardly Christian orientation of Ghana, and didn't know how a Jewish community could exist or thrive here. A friend of mine, Sagie and I ventured this weekend to a Jewish community in New Adiembra a community in the middle of no where, hours from the major city of Kumasi.
As we found out, this small community of New Adiembra had for centuries not worked on Saturday (Shabbat). Hundreds of years ago the chief would fine those who worked or exchanged money on Saturday. In 1977, a local pastor recieved a vision while staring at a wall that he should "Find the lost Jewish tribe in Ghana". He began preaching Jewish scripture to villages all over, and eventually found this town of New Adiembra that seemed to be living Jewish scripture but was predominately Christian. As he started sharing Jewish scripture, it became increasingly attractive to the members of this community who viewed it as making sense of their traditions and history. Now there is a synagogue, the only in Ghana, with about 50-90 members.
We arrived at the community at around 6:30 on Friday afternoon after traveling the entire day. We asked around for Joseph Armah, and immediately were taken to this large compound and walked right to a guest room. On the TV in the guest room was a Havdallah candle, candle sticks, a stuffed Torah, and a spices container. On the window was a small banner reading "Only One God". It was at that point that I knew we had reached a special community. Our host, Joseph had gone to a funeral that day and was ritually unclean and therefore didn't light the Shabbat candles. Nonetheless, we sat around after dinner and discussed the challenges of being Jewish in Ghana. Up until just 8 years ago, members of the synagogue were bothered by community members saying, "You don't believe in Jesus?". However, now the Jewish community is growing and doesn't face as much resistance from the surrounding community.
Saturday morning, we awoke and went to Shul. This was a phrase that I never imagined I'd say in Ghana. After riding on the bus to Kumasi and having a loud preacher lecture for about an hour, I never thought that I would find a Jewish community. We walked through the town to a small blue and white cement building. Inside we found 10 pews, 5 on each side with a table in the front with three chairs. Behind the table were three bookcases, the first with Torahs and Siddurim and the second and third with Jewish childrens and adult books. I found my Hebrew School learning hebrew book from 3rd grade! There were about 10 children and 2 adults present, the children were sitting reading the books to each other and the adults were chatting. We greeted the men sitting at the table in the front who said to us, "Shabbat Shalom". I noticed the room was divided with men on one side and women on the other separated by an aisle for walking, so we sat on the right side. I was amazed by the number of children present, it was about 80% children, directly contrasting with the elderly direction of my congregation at home.
The service began and the room filled up to it's capacity with about 50 people present. We read through most of the prayers in English starting with Ma Tovu all the way through the Torah service. The most powerful part was the only part that was in Hebrew and the only part that was sung: Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. At that point I was blown away by the entire experience. We had listened to English speaking and even prayers adopted into Twi songs, but this was the first words of Hebrew we heard. I couldn't believe that I was at a service of Jews in Ghana! As the leaders read the Torah, they read the verses of Parshat Emor in English, translated them into Twi and explained them as they went. Each verse was made applicable to the population and then the leaders turned to me and Sagie and asked, "Is America do the Cohens observe all this about not defiling themselves?" and other questions about the application of the readings in America. We answered to the best we could and the leader would translate for us. We explained the Mikvah as a source of purification and how the most religious, Orthodox Jews, may observe many of these customs but I as a Conservative Jew do not. In addition, we explained how the mourning process works after a death for Jews in America. As we learned, this community doesn't know whether they are Cohen, Levi, or Israelite. Nonetheless, they made an effort to apply the portion to their lives even though portion explains the laws for each of these groups. Throughout the service there were Twi songs, people got up and clapped, and the children were involved and participatory.
We were planning to leave on Saturday afternoon. When the leader asked us during the service how long we planned to stay he commented, "This community has not granted you permission to leave as we do not travel on Shabbat". It was quite surprising, but we adopted our schedules to stay for the rest of the day and leave the following morning. The rest of the day we spent touring around the village, reading Mishnah with the leader, and talking with the training Rabbi. Alex joined the congregation in 1990 as he saw in a dream that he should support the Jewish people. He used to be a pastor but began to study Judaism and is now training in Uganda to be a Rabbi. He told us that he spends about 90% of his time on the Jewish community through teaching members Hebrew, leading classes on Saturday afternoon, and being there to support community members. After his 4 year program to train as a Rabbi, Alex is going to work on researching the history of this community and continuing to build it.
One of the girls that had been guiding us around and who had been obsessed with Sagie's camera told us to stop and "Video". At which point we turned on the video and she started singing the Aleph-Bet song and other Jewish songs in Hebrew. It was quite funny, because this could have been a Hebrew school kid in the US but it wasn't it was a small Jewish community in the middle of Ghana surrounded by very Christian influences.
Overall it really got me thinking. For a while I've thought that I was Jewish by culture and by tradition, but didn't necessarily study the laws or know the scripture. I didn't think Judaism was more inherently right than other religions. But now I think that there is something right about Judaism. It was something strong enough to push members of a very Christian country to become a struggling Jewish community in the middle of Ghana. This community existed stripped of what I thought was essential for Judaism. Even in an area where it's not possible to buy Kosher foods at the store, it's not yet prevalent to have Bar Mitzvah's, and there's no parents that have raised you Jewish. Nonetheless, this community saw the value of what was written in the scripture and the power of living Jewishly. They have adopted the laws to themselves and keep Kosher even to the extent of slaughtering the animals properly. This was a pure form of Judaism that had to battle against Christian dominance, where everyone involved chose to be involved because they viewed it as right, where the text mattered just as much as living the Jewish culture. I've always seen myself as a cultural Jew and didn't think that there much more of a sensible way to live for me. But now, I feel that there is so much to be gained from studying Jewish scripture and knowing the text. I guess there's more to Judaism for me now than being a cultural Jew.
Best,
Ben
Monday, May 4, 2009
A Deer Hunting We Will Go
Dearest friends,
The following entry tells the story of my experience with the Deer Hunting Festival, Aboakyer, this past weekend. The deer hunting festival is one of Ghana’s most famous and brings people from all over Ghana as well as all over the world.
This morning I was thankful that the taxi was waiting at America House for me, making my favorite sound “Legon 1, Legon 1” meaning that as soon as I sat down the shared taxi would set off to campus. I stared out the window of the car imagining what this festival was going to be like, perhaps we’d get to help hunt the deer or maybe I’d get to witness native dances and songs. Considering that I had been waiting since the beginning of the semester for a festival, I couldn’t wait to get to Winneba.
I met up with Dana on campus and we headed down to Kaneshi Station to catch a tro-tro to Winneba. We arrived at the last stop to see a line of tro-tros along the road as well as a large dirt patch off the road filled with at least a hundred tro-tros going to different places. “OK, now the fun part of finding the Winneba tro begins,” I told myself. Dana and I walked along the road asking, “Winneba, Eye Hen” (Winneba, it is where?). Every person just pointed us to walk farther along the road, urging us to go to front. Eventually we reached the tro-tro in the front, which would drop us at Winneba junction, but it was empty. Anticipating that we might get a more full tro-tro inside the station, we ventured into the station itself. Walking among piles of refuse and over overflowing gutters, we got to the dirt patch that characterized tro-tro stations. Again we asked “Winneba, Eye Hen” and we were directed to a man under a tent that told us that the Winneba car was not yet here. So we walked back to the roadside and sat down in the now filling tro-tro headed to Winneba junction.
After about an hour, the mate shouts out Winneba junction and Dana and I alight. By the roadside are several shared taxis that will take us to Winneba for 40 pesuasas, says the Bradt guide. Spotting a taxi, we sat down and headed towards Winneba. Driving into the city we saw banner after banner with Aboakyer Festival in large letters, some with a deer and men hunting in the background. Loud music was blasting from every corner, and all the restaurants and hotels were festivally dressed with banners and streamers. Unfortunately, neither Dana nor I had brought the Bradt guide with us so I had written down some names of hotels and numbers. We asked the taxi to drop us near Sir Charles a very large hotel that we hoped would have space. We alighted at a junction and walked towards Sir Charles. A pleasant run-down hotel right on the beach, but unfortunately no one was at the reception to greet us or tell us if there was a room. There’s tons of other places, we told ourselves. Walking down to the Lagoon Lodge, a nice hotel the Bradt guide described as essentially “Budget, but beautiful”, we came across this very fancy hotel by the side of the lagoon that costed 30 cedis per night, well out of our range. Walking back towards Sir Charles, we wanted to check again at the reception. This time we met someone who told us, sorry it’s full. Walking along the roadside we began to get concerned as every hostel we stopped at was booked for the night. Frustrated and hot, we stopped at Halo Halo Drinking Spot to get some water and ran into a wonderful lady. She didn’t know a place for us to go but she hailed down a friend of hers that was a taxi driver and asked him to take us to a hotel of a friend of hers for one cedi. We stopped at that hotel, but it was also full. What then occurred was driving to every hotel, hostel, and motel in the area only to find they were full. We even pulled into one hotel that was half-completed. The whole front of the hotel was still under construction but there were a few rooms in the back that were finished, even this hotel was booked. Out of frustration we called back Lagoon Lodge, but even this was full. Crap!
Seeing our frustration the taxi driver noted that he knew the owner of Royal Beach and that it would probably be fine for us to sleep there. At that point sleeping on the beach sounded like a great option to ending this stupid hopeless chase. We arrived at Royal Beach and paid our three cedis at the gate to gain entrance. We were greeted by a dancing party of at least 20 men next to the bar. One interesting thing about this country is that a group of 20 dancing men is not strange to see, even if they seem to be almost grinding, it’s nothing sexual. Regardless, we grabbed ourselves a beer a sat on the beach, “At least we have somewhere to sleep”. We drank our beer and ventured into the ocean. This beach was aweful! Filled with trash and rocky on the bottom. We ventured cautiously over sharp rocks and occasionally were hit by either a diaper or a floating bra. Dana spotted a strange bungalow in the distance and we set out to go check it out. We crossed a lagoon and walked along the beach to this structure. We found a half completed structure with no walls and only the bottoms of the toilets. The left side was missing half the floor, but at least there was a roof. We looked at each other and decided, “It’s better than the beach itself”. This abandoned bungalow would be our home for the night.
Wanting to get setup before dark, we trekked back to where we had left our bags with two nice old men. Thankfully the bags were still there, so we grabbed them and they asked us, “Have you found a place to sleep?” And we responded, yes we have. Not wanting them to know where we were actually sleeping, we headed walked behind them towards the structure. In order to reach the bungalow we’d have to cross the lagoon with our bags. Putting them on top of our heads, we ventured into the chest deep lagoon, much to the amusement and confusion of the Ghanaian family on the shore. We trekked back across the beach and set up camp in our home for the night. We took our valuables out and buried them underground in plastic bags in the fear that armed robbers might come by at night. As it got dark, we set up pillows our of towels for ourselves and talked until we fell asleep. Barely an hour later, it started raining and only half of the bungalow had a roof that could sustain the rain. Dana woke up in a wet blanket, so we moved to the otherside of the bungalow and slept uncomfortably on the wooden floor.
The alarm went off, “Thank God”, I told myself. I had been rolling all night trying to stay comfortable on the hard wood floors. It was 5am and it was time to head to the actual festival which was starting at 6am. We awoke by moon light and crossed the cold lagoon with our bags. Changing by the bushes, we were ready to tackle the day, but really had no idea what was to come.
We walked out of the beach and followed the large group of people headed toward the center of town. Passing by goats along the way and a large pile of trash with both people and a cadre of pigs looking for valuables. Arriving in town, the streets were lined with people as if waiting for a parade. Suddenly, a group of 10 men marched by chanting, banging drums, and waving planks of wood and sticks. Another group marched by with their entire bodies painted in red. Another group of blue and white men and women walked by as the women in front held wooden swords and the men behind yellow planks and wooden deer antlers. This was the parade of people heading to the bush. Asking where to go, a small girl joined up with us to show us around. It seemed that most of the people were heading one direction so we decided to follow. Through the crowds lining the streets we walked through the town with the parading hunters. We asked our friend where they were going and she said to the Bush, so we decided we wanted to go to. We walked among a large group of individuals wearing red towards the mountains. This was the red team. For the Deer Hunting Festival there is a red group and a white group and every individual in the down is in one of the two groups based on family descent. We were following the hunters and members of the red group in pursuit of a Mountain way in the distance. Both the red group and white group send hunters into different parts of the bush to catch a live antelope. The first group to return with two live antelopes to the chief is pronounced the winner.
Most of the group stopped beside a large lake, that only a few were crossing. “Only men can go into the Bush, “ our friend told us. Wanting to get pictures and see the actual hunting, Dana and I agreed that I should still go. I gave her my backpack and all my valuables and ventured through the lake. At times it became deep and the mud below made you sink an additional two feet. Nearly falling several times, I leaned on the man next to me for support. Reaching the other side I realized that I had also left my sandals with Dana. Nonetheless, I walked with a group of men wearing red that were heading to the Bush. Walking over sea shells and mud without shoes was not comfortable, but I was excited as we inched closer and closer to the Bush. Suddenly, within a hundred yards of the bush I heard the loud beating of drums and whistling as a parade of over 400 people emerged from the woods. In the front was a man with a live antelope held in both of his hands. I stood to take pictures and was pulled into the excited mob. Marching and shouting with the other hunters, I was frequently smiled at and encouraged. “You are a real man,” some said, “Not many Obrunis come all the way to the bush” said others. Some took a more physical encouragement and took the red paint from their sweaty faces and wiped it on mine. By the time we came to the large lake again I was covered in red paint and sweating like crazy! Those on the other shore line saw we were arriving with the antelope and excited ran to the bank to meet us, realizing that we must hurry to meet the chief before the white group we ran the entire way through the lake and all the way back to the town. I broke off from the group trying to find Dana in this mob of over 2,500 people chanting and running. She wasn’t where I had left here and she unfortunately had my phone.
A friend I had made in the mob and I went around asking where the Obruni with red hair was. Most said she had left with the crowd. We ran from the very back of the line through marchers who laughed as they saw I was covered in paint from the Bush. As I stood on top of a large hill, I spotted her and sprinted towards her. The rest of the march back to the village we made together.
As we returned to the town of Winneba we paraded through the streets with the proudly held antelope in the front. It was an incredible feeling. Being pushed forward by this huge mob of excited dancing people that were chanting in Fante. I caught on with a couple of the chants and yelled as well. We marched through town as a mob for at least 30 minutes before we reached the Queen Mother’s house and then the chiefs house. As we marched toward the chief’s house, the chants became less powerful so I started loudly shouting the last chant “Yanim Soldja”. Hearing that an Obruni was chanting, people began responding “Kwasi Bruni” and the chant continued. As I continued the same chant I got closer and closer to the front until I was shouting the the entire procession and those in the front who could hear were responding.
All the kids in the crowd found this amusing, and ran up to the front to shout “Kwasi Bruni” when I shouted “Yanim Soldja”. As I continued chanting the group of kids grew to about 50 and we marched through the streets ahead of the group chanting on our own. The people along the streets seeing an Obruni leading kids and chanting were laughing and cheering me on. As we continued in the direction of the chief’s house and the ceremony for the Antelope/Deer, I was stopped by a TV station and a microphone was stuck in my face. “How are you enjoying the festival…What do you think of Ghana…How long have you been here…” I did my best to respond as I was sweating and was loosing my voice from shouting all morning.
After about half an hour of shouting at the top of my lungs leading these kids I was tired. My voice was gone, I had been running barefoot through the town for about 2 hours over rocky streets, and I was drenched with sweat. I waited for my wife (Dana)-she was my wife for the day just for simplicity and so I wouldn’t get so many marriage proposals and neither would she. When Dana arrived we sat, ate, and just relaxed to recover from what was an extremely crazy morning.
Best,
Ben
The following entry tells the story of my experience with the Deer Hunting Festival, Aboakyer, this past weekend. The deer hunting festival is one of Ghana’s most famous and brings people from all over Ghana as well as all over the world.
This morning I was thankful that the taxi was waiting at America House for me, making my favorite sound “Legon 1, Legon 1” meaning that as soon as I sat down the shared taxi would set off to campus. I stared out the window of the car imagining what this festival was going to be like, perhaps we’d get to help hunt the deer or maybe I’d get to witness native dances and songs. Considering that I had been waiting since the beginning of the semester for a festival, I couldn’t wait to get to Winneba.
I met up with Dana on campus and we headed down to Kaneshi Station to catch a tro-tro to Winneba. We arrived at the last stop to see a line of tro-tros along the road as well as a large dirt patch off the road filled with at least a hundred tro-tros going to different places. “OK, now the fun part of finding the Winneba tro begins,” I told myself. Dana and I walked along the road asking, “Winneba, Eye Hen” (Winneba, it is where?). Every person just pointed us to walk farther along the road, urging us to go to front. Eventually we reached the tro-tro in the front, which would drop us at Winneba junction, but it was empty. Anticipating that we might get a more full tro-tro inside the station, we ventured into the station itself. Walking among piles of refuse and over overflowing gutters, we got to the dirt patch that characterized tro-tro stations. Again we asked “Winneba, Eye Hen” and we were directed to a man under a tent that told us that the Winneba car was not yet here. So we walked back to the roadside and sat down in the now filling tro-tro headed to Winneba junction.
After about an hour, the mate shouts out Winneba junction and Dana and I alight. By the roadside are several shared taxis that will take us to Winneba for 40 pesuasas, says the Bradt guide. Spotting a taxi, we sat down and headed towards Winneba. Driving into the city we saw banner after banner with Aboakyer Festival in large letters, some with a deer and men hunting in the background. Loud music was blasting from every corner, and all the restaurants and hotels were festivally dressed with banners and streamers. Unfortunately, neither Dana nor I had brought the Bradt guide with us so I had written down some names of hotels and numbers. We asked the taxi to drop us near Sir Charles a very large hotel that we hoped would have space. We alighted at a junction and walked towards Sir Charles. A pleasant run-down hotel right on the beach, but unfortunately no one was at the reception to greet us or tell us if there was a room. There’s tons of other places, we told ourselves. Walking down to the Lagoon Lodge, a nice hotel the Bradt guide described as essentially “Budget, but beautiful”, we came across this very fancy hotel by the side of the lagoon that costed 30 cedis per night, well out of our range. Walking back towards Sir Charles, we wanted to check again at the reception. This time we met someone who told us, sorry it’s full. Walking along the roadside we began to get concerned as every hostel we stopped at was booked for the night. Frustrated and hot, we stopped at Halo Halo Drinking Spot to get some water and ran into a wonderful lady. She didn’t know a place for us to go but she hailed down a friend of hers that was a taxi driver and asked him to take us to a hotel of a friend of hers for one cedi. We stopped at that hotel, but it was also full. What then occurred was driving to every hotel, hostel, and motel in the area only to find they were full. We even pulled into one hotel that was half-completed. The whole front of the hotel was still under construction but there were a few rooms in the back that were finished, even this hotel was booked. Out of frustration we called back Lagoon Lodge, but even this was full. Crap!
Seeing our frustration the taxi driver noted that he knew the owner of Royal Beach and that it would probably be fine for us to sleep there. At that point sleeping on the beach sounded like a great option to ending this stupid hopeless chase. We arrived at Royal Beach and paid our three cedis at the gate to gain entrance. We were greeted by a dancing party of at least 20 men next to the bar. One interesting thing about this country is that a group of 20 dancing men is not strange to see, even if they seem to be almost grinding, it’s nothing sexual. Regardless, we grabbed ourselves a beer a sat on the beach, “At least we have somewhere to sleep”. We drank our beer and ventured into the ocean. This beach was aweful! Filled with trash and rocky on the bottom. We ventured cautiously over sharp rocks and occasionally were hit by either a diaper or a floating bra. Dana spotted a strange bungalow in the distance and we set out to go check it out. We crossed a lagoon and walked along the beach to this structure. We found a half completed structure with no walls and only the bottoms of the toilets. The left side was missing half the floor, but at least there was a roof. We looked at each other and decided, “It’s better than the beach itself”. This abandoned bungalow would be our home for the night.
Wanting to get setup before dark, we trekked back to where we had left our bags with two nice old men. Thankfully the bags were still there, so we grabbed them and they asked us, “Have you found a place to sleep?” And we responded, yes we have. Not wanting them to know where we were actually sleeping, we headed walked behind them towards the structure. In order to reach the bungalow we’d have to cross the lagoon with our bags. Putting them on top of our heads, we ventured into the chest deep lagoon, much to the amusement and confusion of the Ghanaian family on the shore. We trekked back across the beach and set up camp in our home for the night. We took our valuables out and buried them underground in plastic bags in the fear that armed robbers might come by at night. As it got dark, we set up pillows our of towels for ourselves and talked until we fell asleep. Barely an hour later, it started raining and only half of the bungalow had a roof that could sustain the rain. Dana woke up in a wet blanket, so we moved to the otherside of the bungalow and slept uncomfortably on the wooden floor.
The alarm went off, “Thank God”, I told myself. I had been rolling all night trying to stay comfortable on the hard wood floors. It was 5am and it was time to head to the actual festival which was starting at 6am. We awoke by moon light and crossed the cold lagoon with our bags. Changing by the bushes, we were ready to tackle the day, but really had no idea what was to come.
We walked out of the beach and followed the large group of people headed toward the center of town. Passing by goats along the way and a large pile of trash with both people and a cadre of pigs looking for valuables. Arriving in town, the streets were lined with people as if waiting for a parade. Suddenly, a group of 10 men marched by chanting, banging drums, and waving planks of wood and sticks. Another group marched by with their entire bodies painted in red. Another group of blue and white men and women walked by as the women in front held wooden swords and the men behind yellow planks and wooden deer antlers. This was the parade of people heading to the bush. Asking where to go, a small girl joined up with us to show us around. It seemed that most of the people were heading one direction so we decided to follow. Through the crowds lining the streets we walked through the town with the parading hunters. We asked our friend where they were going and she said to the Bush, so we decided we wanted to go to. We walked among a large group of individuals wearing red towards the mountains. This was the red team. For the Deer Hunting Festival there is a red group and a white group and every individual in the down is in one of the two groups based on family descent. We were following the hunters and members of the red group in pursuit of a Mountain way in the distance. Both the red group and white group send hunters into different parts of the bush to catch a live antelope. The first group to return with two live antelopes to the chief is pronounced the winner.
Most of the group stopped beside a large lake, that only a few were crossing. “Only men can go into the Bush, “ our friend told us. Wanting to get pictures and see the actual hunting, Dana and I agreed that I should still go. I gave her my backpack and all my valuables and ventured through the lake. At times it became deep and the mud below made you sink an additional two feet. Nearly falling several times, I leaned on the man next to me for support. Reaching the other side I realized that I had also left my sandals with Dana. Nonetheless, I walked with a group of men wearing red that were heading to the Bush. Walking over sea shells and mud without shoes was not comfortable, but I was excited as we inched closer and closer to the Bush. Suddenly, within a hundred yards of the bush I heard the loud beating of drums and whistling as a parade of over 400 people emerged from the woods. In the front was a man with a live antelope held in both of his hands. I stood to take pictures and was pulled into the excited mob. Marching and shouting with the other hunters, I was frequently smiled at and encouraged. “You are a real man,” some said, “Not many Obrunis come all the way to the bush” said others. Some took a more physical encouragement and took the red paint from their sweaty faces and wiped it on mine. By the time we came to the large lake again I was covered in red paint and sweating like crazy! Those on the other shore line saw we were arriving with the antelope and excited ran to the bank to meet us, realizing that we must hurry to meet the chief before the white group we ran the entire way through the lake and all the way back to the town. I broke off from the group trying to find Dana in this mob of over 2,500 people chanting and running. She wasn’t where I had left here and she unfortunately had my phone.
A friend I had made in the mob and I went around asking where the Obruni with red hair was. Most said she had left with the crowd. We ran from the very back of the line through marchers who laughed as they saw I was covered in paint from the Bush. As I stood on top of a large hill, I spotted her and sprinted towards her. The rest of the march back to the village we made together.
As we returned to the town of Winneba we paraded through the streets with the proudly held antelope in the front. It was an incredible feeling. Being pushed forward by this huge mob of excited dancing people that were chanting in Fante. I caught on with a couple of the chants and yelled as well. We marched through town as a mob for at least 30 minutes before we reached the Queen Mother’s house and then the chiefs house. As we marched toward the chief’s house, the chants became less powerful so I started loudly shouting the last chant “Yanim Soldja”. Hearing that an Obruni was chanting, people began responding “Kwasi Bruni” and the chant continued. As I continued the same chant I got closer and closer to the front until I was shouting the the entire procession and those in the front who could hear were responding.
All the kids in the crowd found this amusing, and ran up to the front to shout “Kwasi Bruni” when I shouted “Yanim Soldja”. As I continued chanting the group of kids grew to about 50 and we marched through the streets ahead of the group chanting on our own. The people along the streets seeing an Obruni leading kids and chanting were laughing and cheering me on. As we continued in the direction of the chief’s house and the ceremony for the Antelope/Deer, I was stopped by a TV station and a microphone was stuck in my face. “How are you enjoying the festival…What do you think of Ghana…How long have you been here…” I did my best to respond as I was sweating and was loosing my voice from shouting all morning.
After about half an hour of shouting at the top of my lungs leading these kids I was tired. My voice was gone, I had been running barefoot through the town for about 2 hours over rocky streets, and I was drenched with sweat. I waited for my wife (Dana)-she was my wife for the day just for simplicity and so I wouldn’t get so many marriage proposals and neither would she. When Dana arrived we sat, ate, and just relaxed to recover from what was an extremely crazy morning.
Best,
Ben
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
A day in the life
Hey everyone,
I spent the last entries giving you a sense of the crazy stories and interesting things I've been up to, but this time I want to give you an idea of what it's like to live here day to day in Accra, Ghana. This entry is a combination of different stories, so this didn't all happen in one day, but it'll help you see what life is like.
I wake up, it's exactly 5:58am, somehow I've managed to wake up right before my alarm now as I wake up at 6am everyday. Every night I'm asleep by 10pm because that's when everyone else in the house goes to sleep. The luke-warm water of the bucket shower is a welcomed wake-up as I use my imported bar of soap to lather up. When finished, I head over to the table and slice myself two pieces of bread and prepare some miloh (Ghanaian hot chocolate). Now it's off to America House, about a 10 minute walk-I pass by my friend Abigail at the corner and greet her with "Ehti Sen" (how is it?). Upon arriving at America House, I realize the taxi to Legon isn't here yet, so I sit and wait. Getting to class is always variable because I take a shared taxi and it doesn't normally arrive until about 7:15 when I have a 7:30 class and it can take anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes to fill up with other passengers. I can never be sure of when I'll get to campus regardless of how early I leave. Thankfully, this morning it's here in time to get me to campus in time. I drop off by the front gate and wait for the train of goats to finish crossing my path. Up ahead I spot the newscorner, a spot of sidewalk where a man has set out the newspapers. Like more pedestrians, I hover over the papers reading the front page until the man comes over and says, "Are you going to buy that", then it's time to shake my head and leave.
I arrive in my POLI 306: Africa and the Global System class and sit next to my friend Rachel. Right on time, the lecture begins with todays topic being The Affect of Globalization on Africa. He begins, "Despite the affects...the affects of colonialism...Despite the affects of colonialism on Africa...", unfortunately, he is reading pages 24-26 of our reading word for word as the entire class copies it down. Somehow, my classmates don't make copies of the reading and so have no idea that he's reading word for word or that the past 4 weeks have been just chapter one of this book word for word. Nonetheless, the class perks up with questions every once in a while which are mainly, "Can you say that again", "How do you spell that word". Overall, it wasn't interesting as I just followed along in the book underlining the paragraphs he read verbatim. Many classes in the University proceed in this fashion of people copying down the lectures words without critical analysis or questions.
Nonetheless, it's only 9:30 and I have the whole day ahead of me. My mission for the afternoon is to find for myself a pair of decent quality sandals to use as I prepare to travel for 6 weeks by myself through West Africa (more about this later). I decide to head down to Makola Market in downtown Accra. Walking out of the university, I stand at the tro-tro station by campus waiting for a car to say "Accra, Accra, Tema Station". After nearly thirty minutes one arrives overpowering the calls of "Circ Circ Kaneshi Station". I push and chove my way onto the tro-tro competing with other people standing at the roadside for the rare tro-tro. On the way on board, I loose my flip-flop and have to push my way back to pick it up, and thankfully am still able to get on the tro-tro. Soon after getting on the tro-tro the mate turns around and collects 45 pesuas (approx 30 cents) from everyone on board. I'm stuck between two large ladies and the one on my left keeps asking me to move over so people can get behind her, but because of the size of the lady on my right I can't move anywhere. It's starting to get hot, so sitting in the middle away from the windows, I sweat up a storm that I continuously dry off with my shirt.
The tro-tro stops at Tema station and I alight. I walk through crowds of people and small stalls by the road selling everything from bags to Okra to snails. Finally I arrive at the market, which is essentially an endless maze of alleys with stands lining both sides selling food, imported goods, bags, Chinese shoes, Fufu pounding sticks, pots and dishes. I walk through the maze realizing that there's a slight pattern to each section and some areas have more shoes than others. I start walking down an alley with alot of sandals and stop at at least 4 tables to view the sandals. They're mostly poor quality, mainly held together by glue and nothing like the quality of Teva. I actually see two shoes labeled with Timberland and Teva, but they are obvious knock-offs illegally named. I'm left with a choice between Tita, Sport, or the aptly named "Made in China" sandal with no brand name. At the fifth stall I decide that I can't find a shoe that will last me 6 weeks so I buy a cheap Sport brand for about 5 cedi ($3.50). I am amazed to see how much of the Ghana population works in this informal sector. Given the few businesses I see, it's almost as if 70% of people in Accra are in the informal business of selling something.
On the way back to Tema Station I weave my way through the crowds to the hackles of Whiteman and Obruni. Some are a little more desperate and try everything, one man calls out "Hey Whiteman...Obruni...Second Jesus". Eventually I turn around laughing at the fact that he called me second Jesus, most likely because of my longer hair and the facial hair I've been growing. I eventually return to Tema Station and stop at a large cart of bootlegged movies. Ghana has a very active sales scene of Hollywood movies that are bootlegged. In fact my host brothers' favorite movies are Matrix and Batman, we just watched Batman this weekend for the second time in a month. Regardless, I am particularly admiring of the sets of Will Smith, Bruce Willis and Denzel Washington. For the cost of 6 cedis ($4), I got about 30 movies ranging from Will Smith's MIB, Enemy of the State, Independence Day to Willis's Die Hard series, Sixth Sense, and Lucky Number Slevin to Washington's Deja Vu, Training Day and Remember the Titans.
Attempting to find the America House car in the jungle of tro-tros I ask mates who directly with their fingers mainly telling me which way to walk. Directions in Ghana are mainly hand pointing, there's no street names, no turn left here and right here, just "go that way". When you do give directions it's more like "Take a right at the Adenta billboard, a left at the big red crate, and look for the house with the red gate". Finally, I find the America House car and take a sit. I'm surrounded by Ghana's business people that have stocked up at Makola for their own sales. Under my legs I have a set of unidentified boxes belonging to the person behind me and under the seat in front of me is an Army's ration of brown tubes called Bayere (yams). My feet are mainly immobile as I can't spread forward due to the yams or backward due to the boxes. As the car is filling, business people stop by the car selling Yogurt, Pure Water, flashlights, steering wheel covers, miracle drugs, and bible verse books. I've already bought my items for the day, so I don't need anything, but I do buy a pure water for about 3 cents. Everyone in the capital drinks water from small sachets that have 500ml that are 5 pesuas (about 3 cents). Finally the car fills up and we are ready to leave. As if wanting to break the wonderful silence, a baby in the back starts crying. Attempting to block out the annoying sound of the baby behind me, I stare out the window. I take note of the "Ghanaian bumper stickers"-essentially every tro-tro and taxi has put a phrase on the back window with some yellow stickers. Some of the more interesting have been "Clap nice for Jesus", "Cry your own cry", "Oh friend, why?". It's interesting to observe how open religion is in this country. Most tro-tros say something from the bible or praise Jesus, whenever I get on a bus going long distance a preacher stands up and blesses the bus before we go, for meetings at my internship we'd pray before beginning. Christianity is a definite part of life and involves itself in so many different ways.
Thankfully, this tro-tro doesn't have any problems getting home. In a different story, my tro-tro yesterday had broken down in traffic so the mate paid everyone back the money and we had to find a new ride. Of course we were on a corner with literally 100 other people waiting so it took nearly an hour to get a new ride and even then I had to push and chove to get on it. I get down at America House with most of the car an walk home. It's right around 6:00 so it's time for dinner. I knock on the front gate and my host sister Ama opens the door. I greet her in Twi "Maadwo, ehti sen?" and site down outside the house. Seeing Jen, I let her know that I'm here and ready to eat so she warms up my dinner. Tonight it's Banku and Okra Stew. The banku is a large ball of fermented Kassava and corn dough that is your silverware for the stew. I dip my hand into the banku, take a small piece with my hand, dip it into the stew and eat it below the stew slips out of my hands. It's a struggle at first, but eventually you master the technique.
After a tiring day, it's time to sit down for the big family activity: watching our favorite TV station VIASAT 1: Your Number One Entertainer. As is the case for every Monday through Friday the nightly lineup is Hanging with Mr. Cooper, Cosby Show, Friends, and then CSI. In between the shows, this station offers very few commercials and tend to spend more time advertising its own shows and movies. As a result, we know what movie is on at any day of the week because we've seen the commercial at least 5 times. Nonetheless, we get sick of the commercials advertising Oprah which is on at 5pm and the movies as a whole which is easily a 2 minute segment. By the beginning of CSI at 9pm, the family gradually peters out. Some members start heading to bed during the show and other hold out to the end. Typically it's me and my host mother and maybe my host sisters that last until the end of the show. Jen and Ama lock up the house around 10 and we all head to bed.
So in between the crazy stories that I've shared with you the past couple months, there are those little things that are interesting that happen everyday. I hope that this entry has helped you understand some interesting things about Ghana and what's it's like to live here.
All the best,
Ben
I spent the last entries giving you a sense of the crazy stories and interesting things I've been up to, but this time I want to give you an idea of what it's like to live here day to day in Accra, Ghana. This entry is a combination of different stories, so this didn't all happen in one day, but it'll help you see what life is like.
I wake up, it's exactly 5:58am, somehow I've managed to wake up right before my alarm now as I wake up at 6am everyday. Every night I'm asleep by 10pm because that's when everyone else in the house goes to sleep. The luke-warm water of the bucket shower is a welcomed wake-up as I use my imported bar of soap to lather up. When finished, I head over to the table and slice myself two pieces of bread and prepare some miloh (Ghanaian hot chocolate). Now it's off to America House, about a 10 minute walk-I pass by my friend Abigail at the corner and greet her with "Ehti Sen" (how is it?). Upon arriving at America House, I realize the taxi to Legon isn't here yet, so I sit and wait. Getting to class is always variable because I take a shared taxi and it doesn't normally arrive until about 7:15 when I have a 7:30 class and it can take anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes to fill up with other passengers. I can never be sure of when I'll get to campus regardless of how early I leave. Thankfully, this morning it's here in time to get me to campus in time. I drop off by the front gate and wait for the train of goats to finish crossing my path. Up ahead I spot the newscorner, a spot of sidewalk where a man has set out the newspapers. Like more pedestrians, I hover over the papers reading the front page until the man comes over and says, "Are you going to buy that", then it's time to shake my head and leave.
I arrive in my POLI 306: Africa and the Global System class and sit next to my friend Rachel. Right on time, the lecture begins with todays topic being The Affect of Globalization on Africa. He begins, "Despite the affects...the affects of colonialism...Despite the affects of colonialism on Africa...", unfortunately, he is reading pages 24-26 of our reading word for word as the entire class copies it down. Somehow, my classmates don't make copies of the reading and so have no idea that he's reading word for word or that the past 4 weeks have been just chapter one of this book word for word. Nonetheless, the class perks up with questions every once in a while which are mainly, "Can you say that again", "How do you spell that word". Overall, it wasn't interesting as I just followed along in the book underlining the paragraphs he read verbatim. Many classes in the University proceed in this fashion of people copying down the lectures words without critical analysis or questions.
Nonetheless, it's only 9:30 and I have the whole day ahead of me. My mission for the afternoon is to find for myself a pair of decent quality sandals to use as I prepare to travel for 6 weeks by myself through West Africa (more about this later). I decide to head down to Makola Market in downtown Accra. Walking out of the university, I stand at the tro-tro station by campus waiting for a car to say "Accra, Accra, Tema Station". After nearly thirty minutes one arrives overpowering the calls of "Circ Circ Kaneshi Station". I push and chove my way onto the tro-tro competing with other people standing at the roadside for the rare tro-tro. On the way on board, I loose my flip-flop and have to push my way back to pick it up, and thankfully am still able to get on the tro-tro. Soon after getting on the tro-tro the mate turns around and collects 45 pesuas (approx 30 cents) from everyone on board. I'm stuck between two large ladies and the one on my left keeps asking me to move over so people can get behind her, but because of the size of the lady on my right I can't move anywhere. It's starting to get hot, so sitting in the middle away from the windows, I sweat up a storm that I continuously dry off with my shirt.
The tro-tro stops at Tema station and I alight. I walk through crowds of people and small stalls by the road selling everything from bags to Okra to snails. Finally I arrive at the market, which is essentially an endless maze of alleys with stands lining both sides selling food, imported goods, bags, Chinese shoes, Fufu pounding sticks, pots and dishes. I walk through the maze realizing that there's a slight pattern to each section and some areas have more shoes than others. I start walking down an alley with alot of sandals and stop at at least 4 tables to view the sandals. They're mostly poor quality, mainly held together by glue and nothing like the quality of Teva. I actually see two shoes labeled with Timberland and Teva, but they are obvious knock-offs illegally named. I'm left with a choice between Tita, Sport, or the aptly named "Made in China" sandal with no brand name. At the fifth stall I decide that I can't find a shoe that will last me 6 weeks so I buy a cheap Sport brand for about 5 cedi ($3.50). I am amazed to see how much of the Ghana population works in this informal sector. Given the few businesses I see, it's almost as if 70% of people in Accra are in the informal business of selling something.
On the way back to Tema Station I weave my way through the crowds to the hackles of Whiteman and Obruni. Some are a little more desperate and try everything, one man calls out "Hey Whiteman...Obruni...Second Jesus". Eventually I turn around laughing at the fact that he called me second Jesus, most likely because of my longer hair and the facial hair I've been growing. I eventually return to Tema Station and stop at a large cart of bootlegged movies. Ghana has a very active sales scene of Hollywood movies that are bootlegged. In fact my host brothers' favorite movies are Matrix and Batman, we just watched Batman this weekend for the second time in a month. Regardless, I am particularly admiring of the sets of Will Smith, Bruce Willis and Denzel Washington. For the cost of 6 cedis ($4), I got about 30 movies ranging from Will Smith's MIB, Enemy of the State, Independence Day to Willis's Die Hard series, Sixth Sense, and Lucky Number Slevin to Washington's Deja Vu, Training Day and Remember the Titans.
Attempting to find the America House car in the jungle of tro-tros I ask mates who directly with their fingers mainly telling me which way to walk. Directions in Ghana are mainly hand pointing, there's no street names, no turn left here and right here, just "go that way". When you do give directions it's more like "Take a right at the Adenta billboard, a left at the big red crate, and look for the house with the red gate". Finally, I find the America House car and take a sit. I'm surrounded by Ghana's business people that have stocked up at Makola for their own sales. Under my legs I have a set of unidentified boxes belonging to the person behind me and under the seat in front of me is an Army's ration of brown tubes called Bayere (yams). My feet are mainly immobile as I can't spread forward due to the yams or backward due to the boxes. As the car is filling, business people stop by the car selling Yogurt, Pure Water, flashlights, steering wheel covers, miracle drugs, and bible verse books. I've already bought my items for the day, so I don't need anything, but I do buy a pure water for about 3 cents. Everyone in the capital drinks water from small sachets that have 500ml that are 5 pesuas (about 3 cents). Finally the car fills up and we are ready to leave. As if wanting to break the wonderful silence, a baby in the back starts crying. Attempting to block out the annoying sound of the baby behind me, I stare out the window. I take note of the "Ghanaian bumper stickers"-essentially every tro-tro and taxi has put a phrase on the back window with some yellow stickers. Some of the more interesting have been "Clap nice for Jesus", "Cry your own cry", "Oh friend, why?". It's interesting to observe how open religion is in this country. Most tro-tros say something from the bible or praise Jesus, whenever I get on a bus going long distance a preacher stands up and blesses the bus before we go, for meetings at my internship we'd pray before beginning. Christianity is a definite part of life and involves itself in so many different ways.
Thankfully, this tro-tro doesn't have any problems getting home. In a different story, my tro-tro yesterday had broken down in traffic so the mate paid everyone back the money and we had to find a new ride. Of course we were on a corner with literally 100 other people waiting so it took nearly an hour to get a new ride and even then I had to push and chove to get on it. I get down at America House with most of the car an walk home. It's right around 6:00 so it's time for dinner. I knock on the front gate and my host sister Ama opens the door. I greet her in Twi "Maadwo, ehti sen?" and site down outside the house. Seeing Jen, I let her know that I'm here and ready to eat so she warms up my dinner. Tonight it's Banku and Okra Stew. The banku is a large ball of fermented Kassava and corn dough that is your silverware for the stew. I dip my hand into the banku, take a small piece with my hand, dip it into the stew and eat it below the stew slips out of my hands. It's a struggle at first, but eventually you master the technique.
After a tiring day, it's time to sit down for the big family activity: watching our favorite TV station VIASAT 1: Your Number One Entertainer. As is the case for every Monday through Friday the nightly lineup is Hanging with Mr. Cooper, Cosby Show, Friends, and then CSI. In between the shows, this station offers very few commercials and tend to spend more time advertising its own shows and movies. As a result, we know what movie is on at any day of the week because we've seen the commercial at least 5 times. Nonetheless, we get sick of the commercials advertising Oprah which is on at 5pm and the movies as a whole which is easily a 2 minute segment. By the beginning of CSI at 9pm, the family gradually peters out. Some members start heading to bed during the show and other hold out to the end. Typically it's me and my host mother and maybe my host sisters that last until the end of the show. Jen and Ama lock up the house around 10 and we all head to bed.
So in between the crazy stories that I've shared with you the past couple months, there are those little things that are interesting that happen everyday. I hope that this entry has helped you understand some interesting things about Ghana and what's it's like to live here.
All the best,
Ben
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
My weekend in Volta and other things
Dearest friends,
We arrived in Volta at about 10am after having been on the bus for about 3 hours. We arrived at a hotel and pulled up to the building which was marked with the name "The Brick House". Mr. Gyesi got off the bus only to come back a few minutes later to say, "Umm...the president of Ghana will be here in 30 minutes". About an hour later, 5 police motorcycles, 5 police cars, and 5 SUVs drove by in a procession. He drove through a gate marked on both sides by policemen and given the parade of reporters walking through we decided to do the same. We walked through the gate, Me, Billy, Dana, Talia, and Mary and stood up near the crowd. The cameras crowded around the man that emerged from the large black SUV wearing a hard hat. The president had come to the hotel because the manager was building a mall and the President decided it was a good stop on his encouraging development tour. So there I was, standing in this big crowd near the President of Ghana. We inched closer and closer and evenutally go within a foot of the President, close enough to shake his hand. However everything was recorded and we weren't respectfully dressed to shake his hand, so we didn't. The President finished his speech and walked over to the building site, looked the plans, and shook the hands of a large group of visitors from a church in Scotland & Germany that had arranged to meet him. Me and Tali rushed to the end of the line to try and get a handshake as he went around, but we were just a couple seconds too late. Nonetheless, I was within a foot of the President of Ghana and that was pretty dam cool!
Later that afternoon we traveled down to Wli falls, the tallest waterfall in West Africa. It stands at a height of nearly 200 feet and pounds onto the lagoon below with massive force. Almost our entire group walked into the water and bravely trekked through the waterfall. The next day we visited the Tofi Atome Monkey Sanctuary and I fed small monkeys bananas. We made loud kissing noises and the monkeys started coming from throughout the trees. As we held onto the bananas strongly, the monkeys would reach out from the trees and peel the bananas right from our hands!
At my internship, I've been spending the past couple of weeks evaluating the organization's Micro-credit program. I've traveled all over greater Accra meeting with GHAFUP groups to conduct group interviews about the successes and failures of the micro-loan program. The work has given me key insight into the challenges of grassroots development work. Microfinance is a very tricky business. Although it's not the key of People's Dialogue, it tends to be main reason for members joining the Federation. From what I could tell, repayment has been a significant problem for a number of reasons. The first is that many people use the loan to buy materials for their business (i.e. Fish mongers buy fish to smoke, store owners buy provisions) and use the income generated by the selling of these products for immediate needs. The primary needs are school fees, food, and emergencies (i.e. relative sick). After these immediate needs are met a small portion of the original loan is invested in the business so the impact of the loan significantly diminishes rather than increases over time. When there aren't complementary programs that alleviate the press of these immediate needs, this is a common occurrence. So after several months the impact of the loan is gone and they are left to repay it. In addition, some members of the Federation have joined primarily for the possibility of loans and will pay back the loan if they know a new one is coming. Some individuals have the capital to pay the loan back, but would rather use it for other things like feeding kids, if a new loan is not coming. Without a new loan coming there's no incentive to pay it back. Because PD is not an MFI, there isn't always money available to make loans for everyone who received a first loan, so repayment level is hurt. Nonetheless, there has been a significant impact of the loans on individuals as they're able to start businesses when they were doing nothing before, put their kids through education, provide for families as widows, and build there businesses from a table on the side of the street to a store. This is part of what I'll be putting into the evaluation I'm preparing for the office. I'd be glad to talk more about what I've learned, but most of it I don't want to put up online.
Overall, I've learned a great deal about grassroots community development work, mobilizing individuals for self-help, the difference between on the field and in the office work, and the potential of the poorest of the poor in Ghana to improve their lives.
All the best,
Ben
We arrived in Volta at about 10am after having been on the bus for about 3 hours. We arrived at a hotel and pulled up to the building which was marked with the name "The Brick House". Mr. Gyesi got off the bus only to come back a few minutes later to say, "Umm...the president of Ghana will be here in 30 minutes". About an hour later, 5 police motorcycles, 5 police cars, and 5 SUVs drove by in a procession. He drove through a gate marked on both sides by policemen and given the parade of reporters walking through we decided to do the same. We walked through the gate, Me, Billy, Dana, Talia, and Mary and stood up near the crowd. The cameras crowded around the man that emerged from the large black SUV wearing a hard hat. The president had come to the hotel because the manager was building a mall and the President decided it was a good stop on his encouraging development tour. So there I was, standing in this big crowd near the President of Ghana. We inched closer and closer and evenutally go within a foot of the President, close enough to shake his hand. However everything was recorded and we weren't respectfully dressed to shake his hand, so we didn't. The President finished his speech and walked over to the building site, looked the plans, and shook the hands of a large group of visitors from a church in Scotland & Germany that had arranged to meet him. Me and Tali rushed to the end of the line to try and get a handshake as he went around, but we were just a couple seconds too late. Nonetheless, I was within a foot of the President of Ghana and that was pretty dam cool!
Later that afternoon we traveled down to Wli falls, the tallest waterfall in West Africa. It stands at a height of nearly 200 feet and pounds onto the lagoon below with massive force. Almost our entire group walked into the water and bravely trekked through the waterfall. The next day we visited the Tofi Atome Monkey Sanctuary and I fed small monkeys bananas. We made loud kissing noises and the monkeys started coming from throughout the trees. As we held onto the bananas strongly, the monkeys would reach out from the trees and peel the bananas right from our hands!
At my internship, I've been spending the past couple of weeks evaluating the organization's Micro-credit program. I've traveled all over greater Accra meeting with GHAFUP groups to conduct group interviews about the successes and failures of the micro-loan program. The work has given me key insight into the challenges of grassroots development work. Microfinance is a very tricky business. Although it's not the key of People's Dialogue, it tends to be main reason for members joining the Federation. From what I could tell, repayment has been a significant problem for a number of reasons. The first is that many people use the loan to buy materials for their business (i.e. Fish mongers buy fish to smoke, store owners buy provisions) and use the income generated by the selling of these products for immediate needs. The primary needs are school fees, food, and emergencies (i.e. relative sick). After these immediate needs are met a small portion of the original loan is invested in the business so the impact of the loan significantly diminishes rather than increases over time. When there aren't complementary programs that alleviate the press of these immediate needs, this is a common occurrence. So after several months the impact of the loan is gone and they are left to repay it. In addition, some members of the Federation have joined primarily for the possibility of loans and will pay back the loan if they know a new one is coming. Some individuals have the capital to pay the loan back, but would rather use it for other things like feeding kids, if a new loan is not coming. Without a new loan coming there's no incentive to pay it back. Because PD is not an MFI, there isn't always money available to make loans for everyone who received a first loan, so repayment level is hurt. Nonetheless, there has been a significant impact of the loans on individuals as they're able to start businesses when they were doing nothing before, put their kids through education, provide for families as widows, and build there businesses from a table on the side of the street to a store. This is part of what I'll be putting into the evaluation I'm preparing for the office. I'd be glad to talk more about what I've learned, but most of it I don't want to put up online.
Overall, I've learned a great deal about grassroots community development work, mobilizing individuals for self-help, the difference between on the field and in the office work, and the potential of the poorest of the poor in Ghana to improve their lives.
All the best,
Ben
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Passover in Ghana
It was back-breaking lifting brick after brick carrying them towards the inside of the school. For about an hour we lifted 20 pound cement bricks and carried them into the insides of the 3 foot high walls of the school we were building. We were on a volunteer trip that morning to build the library and computer lab for a small school outside of Accra. The objections I have to the short-term mission trip mentality aside, it was an interesting way to begin the Passover day. We sweated in the hot sun, plastered mortar on the walls of the school, and lifted bricks onto the walls. Although we completely very little and the masons had to do much of the work, it was an ironic experience to be doing hard labor on the day before the passover seder. Although it was for a very different purpose and we surely won't building Pithom and Raamses, it was still a connecting experience to my Jewish history.
We returned to campus at around 2:00 and it was time to prepare for the seder. The weekend before Naomi and I had bought most of the ingredients including South African sweet wine, plates, forks, cups, etc. The Tuesday before the seder I had traveled all over America House getting ingredients to make the mail meal: Yams and Tomato Stew. That afternoon, me and Dave cut tomatoes and onions while our host sister prepared the yams and our host Mom combined the ingredients into a delicious stew. While we prepared the meal, Naomi and Abby were active on campus preparing the seder room. The seder took place in the 3rd floor TV room of the International Students Hostel, where the TV was broken so we didn't have to compete with the Liverpool-Chelsea Champions League game that was going on at the same time. Our seder table was two white tables put together with a white table cloth and comfortable chouches surrounding it. We had set up about 20 settings. On the table were our plastic cups of salt water, Elijah's cup (which was composed of the top-half of a water bottle wrapped in Kente cloth), a plate of Spinach (our green vegetable since Parsley was not available), Shitaw (a spicy Ghanaian spice that we used because we had no Horse Radish or Maror). Our seder plate used spinach, a raw egg, Shitaw, very delicious Charoset, and a smelly chicken bone that I saved from my dinner on that previous Sunday that we had to keep in it's own plastic bag because it smelled awful.
The seder was a cross-cultural sharing experience. We had about 20 people there including Esther and her parents who had come to Ghana for about a week. We had around 10 Jews total and the rest of the people were interested people from our program who wanted to experience a Jewish seder. The experience of leading a seder, for myself, was very unique. We began by explaining the items on the seder plate, dipped the very bitter spinach in the salt water to symbolize the tears of the Jewish slaves in Egypt (the spinach was bitter because it had accidentally frozen in the fridge and defrosted), retold the story of the Exodus through the children's Hagada as we passed it around the table. We joined in rousing songs of Dayenu which Naomi as part of her family tradition lead in Baptist retorhic and we all sang the chorus together. We ate our Matzah that Abby and I had amazingly managed to get through a Chabad group that was conducting seders with some Israeli companies in Accra. We ate our Matzah and Charoset sandwiches which was a favorite item for most people in the seder-the recipe I copied off the internet and the sweet wine we had got worked out excellent. We drank our cup of wine, four sips rather than cups because we didn't have enough wine. It was unique to reflect on the fact that this seder was occuring in the one of the slave capitals of Africa. That the history we experienced was not distinct just to Jews. Conducting the seder barely 2 hours from Elmina Castle, a huge hub of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade was a unique experience. Then came time for the meal, a very traditional Ghanaian dish that was a huge hit. After the meal we sang Hag-Gadya and Who Knows One in English together. Both songs were enjoyed by all, especially those who weren't Jewish. Hag-Gadya tells the story of the awesomeness of God through a later of one item destroys another, all of which you are meant to say in one breath. The song of Who Knows One recounts each number one to thirteen and what's important in Jewish history about each number, all of which you are meant to recite in a single breath at the end. Two of my non-Jewish friends turned to me and Naomi, my co-leader, and said, "This was probably one of my favorite nights in Ghana".
Conducting the seder is an empowering experience, having a seder in Ghana is an insighful experience, and sharing the cultural of Judaism with you non-Jewish friends is priceless.
Best,
Ben
We returned to campus at around 2:00 and it was time to prepare for the seder. The weekend before Naomi and I had bought most of the ingredients including South African sweet wine, plates, forks, cups, etc. The Tuesday before the seder I had traveled all over America House getting ingredients to make the mail meal: Yams and Tomato Stew. That afternoon, me and Dave cut tomatoes and onions while our host sister prepared the yams and our host Mom combined the ingredients into a delicious stew. While we prepared the meal, Naomi and Abby were active on campus preparing the seder room. The seder took place in the 3rd floor TV room of the International Students Hostel, where the TV was broken so we didn't have to compete with the Liverpool-Chelsea Champions League game that was going on at the same time. Our seder table was two white tables put together with a white table cloth and comfortable chouches surrounding it. We had set up about 20 settings. On the table were our plastic cups of salt water, Elijah's cup (which was composed of the top-half of a water bottle wrapped in Kente cloth), a plate of Spinach (our green vegetable since Parsley was not available), Shitaw (a spicy Ghanaian spice that we used because we had no Horse Radish or Maror). Our seder plate used spinach, a raw egg, Shitaw, very delicious Charoset, and a smelly chicken bone that I saved from my dinner on that previous Sunday that we had to keep in it's own plastic bag because it smelled awful.
The seder was a cross-cultural sharing experience. We had about 20 people there including Esther and her parents who had come to Ghana for about a week. We had around 10 Jews total and the rest of the people were interested people from our program who wanted to experience a Jewish seder. The experience of leading a seder, for myself, was very unique. We began by explaining the items on the seder plate, dipped the very bitter spinach in the salt water to symbolize the tears of the Jewish slaves in Egypt (the spinach was bitter because it had accidentally frozen in the fridge and defrosted), retold the story of the Exodus through the children's Hagada as we passed it around the table. We joined in rousing songs of Dayenu which Naomi as part of her family tradition lead in Baptist retorhic and we all sang the chorus together. We ate our Matzah that Abby and I had amazingly managed to get through a Chabad group that was conducting seders with some Israeli companies in Accra. We ate our Matzah and Charoset sandwiches which was a favorite item for most people in the seder-the recipe I copied off the internet and the sweet wine we had got worked out excellent. We drank our cup of wine, four sips rather than cups because we didn't have enough wine. It was unique to reflect on the fact that this seder was occuring in the one of the slave capitals of Africa. That the history we experienced was not distinct just to Jews. Conducting the seder barely 2 hours from Elmina Castle, a huge hub of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade was a unique experience. Then came time for the meal, a very traditional Ghanaian dish that was a huge hit. After the meal we sang Hag-Gadya and Who Knows One in English together. Both songs were enjoyed by all, especially those who weren't Jewish. Hag-Gadya tells the story of the awesomeness of God through a later of one item destroys another, all of which you are meant to say in one breath. The song of Who Knows One recounts each number one to thirteen and what's important in Jewish history about each number, all of which you are meant to recite in a single breath at the end. Two of my non-Jewish friends turned to me and Naomi, my co-leader, and said, "This was probably one of my favorite nights in Ghana".
Conducting the seder is an empowering experience, having a seder in Ghana is an insighful experience, and sharing the cultural of Judaism with you non-Jewish friends is priceless.
Best,
Ben
Monday, March 30, 2009
A very crazy weekend in Kumasi
My dear friends,
This past weekend was perhaps one of the craziest I've had since coming to Ghana. We went as a whole group to Kumasi in central Ghana for a three day trip. Here are some of the highlights.
We had just arrived at the Kente Cultural Center. Walking into this large building we were hawked by dozens of sellers that noticed an entire bus of Obrunis just disembarked. Inside the building were about 20 Kente weaving machines with an aisle around the outside where the sewers were displaying their work for sale. You couldn't go a foot without being pulled in one direction or another, called by a salesperson saying "My friend", "Come see", "two cidi", or something of the like. Along the outskirts of the building many salespeople tried to get out attention through the small windows as we walked past. After purchasing a couple things I left the building and headed back to our bus. We had attracted quite a bit of attention and there were at least 50 people standing by the bus waiting for us to return. Many were sellers, others were kids who would say "give me money" or "can I have some money for food". After a few minutes the bus opened and we got on. About 12 people were on the bus meaning a big portion of the group was still inside. As we sat on the bus, people outside were banging on the windows and shouting trying to get our attention. It was quite stressful, but we decided to just close the shades so it limited the amount of space they could use to shout at us. My friend Clara had been asked what her name was as she had gotten off the bus in the first place by a man with a diamond ear stud that looked about 19 years old. When she got back on the bus this man was thre waiting for her with a bracelet that said Sara and asked her to pay the ridiculous fee of 14 cidi (worth about 1 cidi), so she refused to buy it. The man had written her name in the bracelet, I suppose, and he was visually displeased. He poked his head through the bus door several times trying to get her to buy it, but it wasn't her name and it was way overpriced. Rachel got up to the door and put her back onto it to keep it closed so he couldn't keep popping his head through to bother her. As this was going on the banging and shouting of people outside trying to get our attention continued, and Billy aptly described it like we were in Jurassic Park. So, Mary spotted a man selling bags and she thought he was gesturing 2 bags for 5 cidi so she called him to the door to bargain and buy. When she got to the door, Rachel opened it and she found out it was one bag for 7 so she wasn't interested. Nonetheless, our diamond-eared friend was at the door and let out a stream of curses saying "F****** white girl, you f****** white chicken" referring to Clara. Mary was not pleased with how he was trying Clara and trying to force his way into the bus while cursing. She remarks, "You can't talk to my sister like that" and knees him in the chest. He is not quite pleased with this turn of events and leaves. 5 minutes later he comes back with a 4 foot long, thick tree branch and starts hitting the windows of the bus. We are quite freaked out, but realize that he cannot break the windows. Nonetheless, for 10 minutes we saw him angrily circling the bus shouting at Mary to "Come out and fight like a man". It was quite an interesting experience as you can tell, but in the end we left and no one was harmed.
For the weekend we were staying in the same hotel as the Black Stars, the Ghana National Football Team who on Sunday competed with Benin in a World Cup qualifying game. While in the hotel on Saturday night I met several of the black stars and even got a picture with Appiah, the team captain.
Yesterday was the Ghana-Benin qorld cup qualifying game. We arrived at the stadium around 1, unneccessarily early for the 5 game, but just wanted to make sure that we'd all get seats. About an hour after arriving, Stephanie and I got bored of sitting around. We saw a large section of about 300 colorfully dressed people that were up and cheering and banging sticks, so we decided we wanted to join. We approached this section of what we later learned were the National Supporters Union, a group that travels to all the Ghana games to support the team, and were immediately welcomed. We started clapping with them to the beat of their own small band they had in the back and they even gave us seats. For several hours before the game we were dancing in a coordinated fashion lead by four people who were facing the group from the front all doing the same moves so that we copied. We put our hands over each others shoulders, all 8 rows in a line, and jumped 5 steps to the right and five to the left; we made swimming motions with our hands; we shouted Amen in unison and waved our white handkerchiefs. It was like sitting in the ASU student section but with 10 times more coordination and enthusiasm. By the time the game started I was already tired. Nonetheless, in the first 60 seconds of the game, Ghana scored on Benin, the person who scored was named Prince (one of the people I met and took a picture with). As he scored, the section passed up a huge flag that covered the whole section and we all jumped up and down. The dancing and coordinated cheering continued to half time and I was completely exhausted at the half. I had made some nice friends with the people next to me, and my friends Molly and Liz had been there with me the entire time, Stephanie had some time before. After the half, even the leaders of the cheering seemed tired. I mentioned to Liz how crazy it would be if we could get the whole group to do the chicken dance. So I being in the second row made eye contact with the main leader and tried to teach him the chicken dance, he missed a couple of the steps but people did alright with it. I was heavily thinking about going up in front of this group to lead a couple dances so started talking with Liz and Molly and Kristen about dances to do. As the leader tried again to do the chicken dance, I worked up the courage and went down to the front row. I turned around and was facing a group of nearly 300 jumping fans who I had never met and who were ready to copy my every move. It was quite an adrenaline rush! So, I started doing the chicken dance and the other leaders caught on and did it with me. Soon nearly 250 Ghanaians were doing the chicken dance to the accompaniment of the drum band in back-their favorite part was wiggling the but and getting lower. After doing the chicken dance for a little, it was time for a new dance so I lead the Macarena. This was a huge hit! Everyone was sticking their hands out, across their chest, on their waste, on their butt, and then wiggling the butt and clapping. I looked to my friends for inspiration to a new dance, Liz suggested the YMCA hand scan, so I did it. There I was in front of 300 fans who were scanning their hands and bobbing their head. I did a couple of other moves, but after about 15 minutes I was flush out of ideas and went back to my spot. I was welcomed with dozens of back pats, smiles; I had made 150 friends in about 15 minutes!! :-). Liz and Kristen also lead several dance moves as the game went on and then it ended as Ghana won 1-0. The crowd was ecstatic as we through up the flag again and jumped around waving our white handkerchiefs. After waiting for most of the crowd to clear, I headed back to the rest of our CIEE group. I was immediately stopped by a couple members of our group who had seen me up on the "jumbo tron" several times. Right afterwards I was stopped by a member of the CIEE staff who informed me that she had just gotten a call from Mr. Gyesi who had gotten a call from one of the CIEE staff at another program in Ashesi who recognized several CIEE people on TV. Apparently, I was on TV during the qualifying match!! How crazy is that! During that game I commanded 300 people in the chicken dance, screamed my lungs out in Twi songs, and was on international television as one of the Obrunis in this very enthusiastic crowd of Ghanaians that cheered the entire game. As you can guess, it was probably one of the funniest and most ridiculous moments I've ever had.
As you can tell it was quite a trip. I met two men that are doing a documentary on African football and I'm in the documentary now. I met a group of regular supporters of the Black Stars who have made me an honorary member and I will be going to their meetings in Accra. What a crazy weekend!
Miss you all!
Best,
Ben
This past weekend was perhaps one of the craziest I've had since coming to Ghana. We went as a whole group to Kumasi in central Ghana for a three day trip. Here are some of the highlights.
We had just arrived at the Kente Cultural Center. Walking into this large building we were hawked by dozens of sellers that noticed an entire bus of Obrunis just disembarked. Inside the building were about 20 Kente weaving machines with an aisle around the outside where the sewers were displaying their work for sale. You couldn't go a foot without being pulled in one direction or another, called by a salesperson saying "My friend", "Come see", "two cidi", or something of the like. Along the outskirts of the building many salespeople tried to get out attention through the small windows as we walked past. After purchasing a couple things I left the building and headed back to our bus. We had attracted quite a bit of attention and there were at least 50 people standing by the bus waiting for us to return. Many were sellers, others were kids who would say "give me money" or "can I have some money for food". After a few minutes the bus opened and we got on. About 12 people were on the bus meaning a big portion of the group was still inside. As we sat on the bus, people outside were banging on the windows and shouting trying to get our attention. It was quite stressful, but we decided to just close the shades so it limited the amount of space they could use to shout at us. My friend Clara had been asked what her name was as she had gotten off the bus in the first place by a man with a diamond ear stud that looked about 19 years old. When she got back on the bus this man was thre waiting for her with a bracelet that said Sara and asked her to pay the ridiculous fee of 14 cidi (worth about 1 cidi), so she refused to buy it. The man had written her name in the bracelet, I suppose, and he was visually displeased. He poked his head through the bus door several times trying to get her to buy it, but it wasn't her name and it was way overpriced. Rachel got up to the door and put her back onto it to keep it closed so he couldn't keep popping his head through to bother her. As this was going on the banging and shouting of people outside trying to get our attention continued, and Billy aptly described it like we were in Jurassic Park. So, Mary spotted a man selling bags and she thought he was gesturing 2 bags for 5 cidi so she called him to the door to bargain and buy. When she got to the door, Rachel opened it and she found out it was one bag for 7 so she wasn't interested. Nonetheless, our diamond-eared friend was at the door and let out a stream of curses saying "F****** white girl, you f****** white chicken" referring to Clara. Mary was not pleased with how he was trying Clara and trying to force his way into the bus while cursing. She remarks, "You can't talk to my sister like that" and knees him in the chest. He is not quite pleased with this turn of events and leaves. 5 minutes later he comes back with a 4 foot long, thick tree branch and starts hitting the windows of the bus. We are quite freaked out, but realize that he cannot break the windows. Nonetheless, for 10 minutes we saw him angrily circling the bus shouting at Mary to "Come out and fight like a man". It was quite an interesting experience as you can tell, but in the end we left and no one was harmed.
For the weekend we were staying in the same hotel as the Black Stars, the Ghana National Football Team who on Sunday competed with Benin in a World Cup qualifying game. While in the hotel on Saturday night I met several of the black stars and even got a picture with Appiah, the team captain.
Yesterday was the Ghana-Benin qorld cup qualifying game. We arrived at the stadium around 1, unneccessarily early for the 5 game, but just wanted to make sure that we'd all get seats. About an hour after arriving, Stephanie and I got bored of sitting around. We saw a large section of about 300 colorfully dressed people that were up and cheering and banging sticks, so we decided we wanted to join. We approached this section of what we later learned were the National Supporters Union, a group that travels to all the Ghana games to support the team, and were immediately welcomed. We started clapping with them to the beat of their own small band they had in the back and they even gave us seats. For several hours before the game we were dancing in a coordinated fashion lead by four people who were facing the group from the front all doing the same moves so that we copied. We put our hands over each others shoulders, all 8 rows in a line, and jumped 5 steps to the right and five to the left; we made swimming motions with our hands; we shouted Amen in unison and waved our white handkerchiefs. It was like sitting in the ASU student section but with 10 times more coordination and enthusiasm. By the time the game started I was already tired. Nonetheless, in the first 60 seconds of the game, Ghana scored on Benin, the person who scored was named Prince (one of the people I met and took a picture with). As he scored, the section passed up a huge flag that covered the whole section and we all jumped up and down. The dancing and coordinated cheering continued to half time and I was completely exhausted at the half. I had made some nice friends with the people next to me, and my friends Molly and Liz had been there with me the entire time, Stephanie had some time before. After the half, even the leaders of the cheering seemed tired. I mentioned to Liz how crazy it would be if we could get the whole group to do the chicken dance. So I being in the second row made eye contact with the main leader and tried to teach him the chicken dance, he missed a couple of the steps but people did alright with it. I was heavily thinking about going up in front of this group to lead a couple dances so started talking with Liz and Molly and Kristen about dances to do. As the leader tried again to do the chicken dance, I worked up the courage and went down to the front row. I turned around and was facing a group of nearly 300 jumping fans who I had never met and who were ready to copy my every move. It was quite an adrenaline rush! So, I started doing the chicken dance and the other leaders caught on and did it with me. Soon nearly 250 Ghanaians were doing the chicken dance to the accompaniment of the drum band in back-their favorite part was wiggling the but and getting lower. After doing the chicken dance for a little, it was time for a new dance so I lead the Macarena. This was a huge hit! Everyone was sticking their hands out, across their chest, on their waste, on their butt, and then wiggling the butt and clapping. I looked to my friends for inspiration to a new dance, Liz suggested the YMCA hand scan, so I did it. There I was in front of 300 fans who were scanning their hands and bobbing their head. I did a couple of other moves, but after about 15 minutes I was flush out of ideas and went back to my spot. I was welcomed with dozens of back pats, smiles; I had made 150 friends in about 15 minutes!! :-). Liz and Kristen also lead several dance moves as the game went on and then it ended as Ghana won 1-0. The crowd was ecstatic as we through up the flag again and jumped around waving our white handkerchiefs. After waiting for most of the crowd to clear, I headed back to the rest of our CIEE group. I was immediately stopped by a couple members of our group who had seen me up on the "jumbo tron" several times. Right afterwards I was stopped by a member of the CIEE staff who informed me that she had just gotten a call from Mr. Gyesi who had gotten a call from one of the CIEE staff at another program in Ashesi who recognized several CIEE people on TV. Apparently, I was on TV during the qualifying match!! How crazy is that! During that game I commanded 300 people in the chicken dance, screamed my lungs out in Twi songs, and was on international television as one of the Obrunis in this very enthusiastic crowd of Ghanaians that cheered the entire game. As you can guess, it was probably one of the funniest and most ridiculous moments I've ever had.
As you can tell it was quite a trip. I met two men that are doing a documentary on African football and I'm in the documentary now. I met a group of regular supporters of the Black Stars who have made me an honorary member and I will be going to their meetings in Accra. What a crazy weekend!
Miss you all!
Best,
Ben
Friday, March 20, 2009
Too interesting to wait
Dearest friends,
So there I was, on the back of a motorcycle with a nice man who was the Assemblyman for the village of Abotoase, gliding through the town on our way to a meeting. It had been a very busy morning. Mr. Kumaa, the leader of GHAFUP and myself had traveled on Tuesday to Abotoase a town about 4 hours from Accra on the Northern shore of the Volta Lake. The Klagbokorpe group of GHAFUP had submitted a proposal to the office for a 10-seater KVIP toilet facility and it was our job to assess the situation on the ground and my job to take the information and make a proposal to submit to our partners for funding. The previous weeks I had spent developing questions for meetings with the GHAFUP group, the WATSAN (water & sanitation committee) and focus group discussions one of just men and one of just women.
The night before we arrived at about 5 and were surprised to immediately be greeted by the very important and hospital Assemblyman for the district. Unexpectedly, he thought our arrival was to assess a water project that was beginning in Abotoase in April so he had scheduled meetings for us with Abotoase GHAFUP and the WATSAN under that premise. After a short discussion, we resolved the problem and agreed to meet with both groups about both issues. In the afternoon we toured around Abotoase, saw sets of clogged KVIPs, overwhelmed boreholes. The town of Abotoase has 5 boreholes for about 5,000 people, and so they are very slow of overwhelmed by long lines of anxious women and children waiting to go to school. Frequently fights break out of water and 80 buckets surround the slow moving water waiting to be filled.
The day began as Mr. Kumaa and prepped for the meeting with Abotoase GHAFUP that we hadn't originally prepared for. We arrived at the site and after about half an hour, about 20 people were sitting on benches waiting for the people from the office to "talk about the water project". I was the main representative of the office, a big responsibility and Mr. Kumaa was the representative of the federation GHAFUP. I talked about the specific activities of the project and asked them how they saw the project as well as what benefits it would bring to the community and the group. The response was overwhelming. The project itself was a mechanized borehole with pipes to 15 distribution points, vastly expanding the speed and capacity of the water supply in the town. People sited benefits like more trust and awareness of the GHAFUP group, finally something is happening after complaining at the district assembly for water for several years, better health for the community. I walked out of the meeting very happy about the potential thisproject was bringing to he community. Plus it was an idea proposed by the people themselves who were affected and will be maintained by the people themselves through user fees. It's a real grassroots solution.
Then came the meeting with the WATSAN committee. It was a very productive meeting as I began to see that there were many actors doing different things in the community (i.e. District Assembly, NGOs, WATSAN) all of which had different projects, but when some fell apart no one was coming to fix them. So they fully supported our proposal for a KVIP in Klagbokorpe and I was fortunate to meet a very nice man who has worked as a sanitation officer for Danish International Development Agency (DANIDA) for the past 13 years who was greatly helpful in me understanding toilets and sanitation. After the meeting with met with the Paramount Chief of Tapa district, meaning the most important chief of nearly 100,000 people to inform him of the project. At that point I was amazed at what I was doing and what responsibility I held as a representative of the office.
I hopped off the motorcycle and sat down in some chairs behind the table under a large tree. The Klagbokorpe group was meeting today, amazed that a whiteman had come all the way from the office to talk with them about their little toilet project. After about half an hour there were 40 people sitting under that tree waiting anxiously for Mr. Kumaa and I to begin. The Assemblymen introduced us and our purpose, Mr. Kumaa stood up and explained the values of the Federation, and then it was my turn to lead. I stood up in front of 40 people I didn't know and spoke the little Twi I could to introduce myself: "Yefre me Fo Kwasi. Mefi Amerika aburokyire na meye mi internship waw PD..." (My name is Grandfather Kwasi, I am from America overseas and I'm in an internship with PD). At that point it was onto the discussion, I explained the purpose of my being there the project itself and asked them to explain to me how this idea came about and they thought the benefits would be. We then broke off into smaller discussion groups and I conducted a discussion first of men with 4 GHAFUP members and 4 community members and then a discussion of 4 GHAFUP women and 4 community women. What I learned was extremely interesting.
In Klagbokorpe, a town of nearly 3,000, there isn't a single public toilet facility. As a result, people use the bush or Lake Volta to make toilet. The problem is that there are big problems with both. While going toilet in the bush several complained about getting bit by snakes, one person's relative died because they couldn't get tothe hospital in time. Another danger is that small children may encounter a dangerous animal and not know what to do so either run or will get attacked by it. For women, many are shy and it isn't proper for a man to see you when you've declothed yourself to shit. In the bush, women will frequently run into men or men will be waiting there to see them naked. The other option for shitting (sorry pardon my language, in Ghana shitting is a very acceptable term not derogatory in any fashion) is using Lake Volta. The main problems with this are that the water is also used for washing, bathing, and cooking. Community members complained of many problems like Cholera, blood in stool (Bilharzia), diahrea, and other things as a result of drinking or using the polluted water. In addition, the crap sinks to the bottom of the lake but is flushed up again during the rainy season when it washes back into the town.
After these meetings, we saw that it was necessary to set up two KVIPs 10-seater each because of the number of people in the village. The group them took us to the two sites, which were approved by the DANIDA sanitation officer to be appropriate for the facility. The important factors were that it was more than 150 yards from the water and that the facility be water tight. This means that the tanks into which the excrement falls must be cement on all sides so that it can be pumped out by a truck when it is full. The small user fees that will be charged by the GHAFUP group who will be maintaining the facility will pay for periodic cleaning and waste removal as well as be contributed back to a revolving fund for other projects. People's Dialogue projects act like somewhere between a loan and a grant, there isn't full cost recovery, but much of the initial cost is paid back into a fund which will be used for other projects. In addition, the community members also take a portion of the funds as their profit as they are running the business. It's a very effective and community-based and led strategy.
The rest of the day we spent touring the area. I encountered one image that I think will always stick with me. We came to the main KVIP for Abotoase, and it was completely full. For almost a year there hasn't been money to empty the tanks and replace the stolen pipes. I went totake pictures to notify the office so maybe we could issue a loan to repair the facility. Every stall door I opened, I was met by a completely full toilet, filled to the brim with crap and covered in a layer of moving white maggots. After seeing the decay of the main facility for many of our members, Mr.Kumaa wisely decided (out of the passion he has for other GHAFUP members) that we should figure out a way to repair it. We talked with the assemblyman for quite some time about what is needed to fix it and developed a cost outline of a 750 GHc loan (about $600) that could completely rennovate the facility. Because they will be charging for the use of the facility and there are thousands that need it but have nothing now, they will be able to make back the full cost in about 14 months. So we will take with the People's Dialogue office about making a micro-loan to the group for that amount to undertake this business venture. Once completed, it will be the groups job to maintain the facility and recieve the profit after the loan is paid back.
Now I am left with all this information, charged with the mission to create a proposal for a toilet in Klagbokorpe and a micro-loan proposal to rennovate the KVIP in Abotoase. It was a very interesting couple days and I grew immensely as I became empowered by the work and the potential I saw in the ability of people to solve problems themselves. I think it's key to invest in the people to solve the problem, to build the facility and maintain it so they will make sure it is kept in order and the benefit is fully within the community. I saw many other toilets that broke down after being built by an NGO and then were neglected, but I actually have faith that this one will stay for generations. It's a thrilling thing to see the difference that I as one person can make just by helping people translate a small, ineffective proposal they sent the office telling us about the issue, to using their stories to make a full scale proposal for an international donor, to guiding them in how to complete this project. The impact on the community will be enormous. Klagborpe has been around for many many years and has clamoured for toilets to NGOs and the District Assembly, but no one has come. The fact that the Federation, a group of 35 community members themselves can bring the project to the community themselves is a crowning and empowering achievement. I only pray that there is a funder out there willing to consider the project.
Just thought it was too important not to share!
Best,
Ben
So there I was, on the back of a motorcycle with a nice man who was the Assemblyman for the village of Abotoase, gliding through the town on our way to a meeting. It had been a very busy morning. Mr. Kumaa, the leader of GHAFUP and myself had traveled on Tuesday to Abotoase a town about 4 hours from Accra on the Northern shore of the Volta Lake. The Klagbokorpe group of GHAFUP had submitted a proposal to the office for a 10-seater KVIP toilet facility and it was our job to assess the situation on the ground and my job to take the information and make a proposal to submit to our partners for funding. The previous weeks I had spent developing questions for meetings with the GHAFUP group, the WATSAN (water & sanitation committee) and focus group discussions one of just men and one of just women.
The night before we arrived at about 5 and were surprised to immediately be greeted by the very important and hospital Assemblyman for the district. Unexpectedly, he thought our arrival was to assess a water project that was beginning in Abotoase in April so he had scheduled meetings for us with Abotoase GHAFUP and the WATSAN under that premise. After a short discussion, we resolved the problem and agreed to meet with both groups about both issues. In the afternoon we toured around Abotoase, saw sets of clogged KVIPs, overwhelmed boreholes. The town of Abotoase has 5 boreholes for about 5,000 people, and so they are very slow of overwhelmed by long lines of anxious women and children waiting to go to school. Frequently fights break out of water and 80 buckets surround the slow moving water waiting to be filled.
The day began as Mr. Kumaa and prepped for the meeting with Abotoase GHAFUP that we hadn't originally prepared for. We arrived at the site and after about half an hour, about 20 people were sitting on benches waiting for the people from the office to "talk about the water project". I was the main representative of the office, a big responsibility and Mr. Kumaa was the representative of the federation GHAFUP. I talked about the specific activities of the project and asked them how they saw the project as well as what benefits it would bring to the community and the group. The response was overwhelming. The project itself was a mechanized borehole with pipes to 15 distribution points, vastly expanding the speed and capacity of the water supply in the town. People sited benefits like more trust and awareness of the GHAFUP group, finally something is happening after complaining at the district assembly for water for several years, better health for the community. I walked out of the meeting very happy about the potential thisproject was bringing to he community. Plus it was an idea proposed by the people themselves who were affected and will be maintained by the people themselves through user fees. It's a real grassroots solution.
Then came the meeting with the WATSAN committee. It was a very productive meeting as I began to see that there were many actors doing different things in the community (i.e. District Assembly, NGOs, WATSAN) all of which had different projects, but when some fell apart no one was coming to fix them. So they fully supported our proposal for a KVIP in Klagbokorpe and I was fortunate to meet a very nice man who has worked as a sanitation officer for Danish International Development Agency (DANIDA) for the past 13 years who was greatly helpful in me understanding toilets and sanitation. After the meeting with met with the Paramount Chief of Tapa district, meaning the most important chief of nearly 100,000 people to inform him of the project. At that point I was amazed at what I was doing and what responsibility I held as a representative of the office.
I hopped off the motorcycle and sat down in some chairs behind the table under a large tree. The Klagbokorpe group was meeting today, amazed that a whiteman had come all the way from the office to talk with them about their little toilet project. After about half an hour there were 40 people sitting under that tree waiting anxiously for Mr. Kumaa and I to begin. The Assemblymen introduced us and our purpose, Mr. Kumaa stood up and explained the values of the Federation, and then it was my turn to lead. I stood up in front of 40 people I didn't know and spoke the little Twi I could to introduce myself: "Yefre me Fo Kwasi. Mefi Amerika aburokyire na meye mi internship waw PD..." (My name is Grandfather Kwasi, I am from America overseas and I'm in an internship with PD). At that point it was onto the discussion, I explained the purpose of my being there the project itself and asked them to explain to me how this idea came about and they thought the benefits would be. We then broke off into smaller discussion groups and I conducted a discussion first of men with 4 GHAFUP members and 4 community members and then a discussion of 4 GHAFUP women and 4 community women. What I learned was extremely interesting.
In Klagbokorpe, a town of nearly 3,000, there isn't a single public toilet facility. As a result, people use the bush or Lake Volta to make toilet. The problem is that there are big problems with both. While going toilet in the bush several complained about getting bit by snakes, one person's relative died because they couldn't get tothe hospital in time. Another danger is that small children may encounter a dangerous animal and not know what to do so either run or will get attacked by it. For women, many are shy and it isn't proper for a man to see you when you've declothed yourself to shit. In the bush, women will frequently run into men or men will be waiting there to see them naked. The other option for shitting (sorry pardon my language, in Ghana shitting is a very acceptable term not derogatory in any fashion) is using Lake Volta. The main problems with this are that the water is also used for washing, bathing, and cooking. Community members complained of many problems like Cholera, blood in stool (Bilharzia), diahrea, and other things as a result of drinking or using the polluted water. In addition, the crap sinks to the bottom of the lake but is flushed up again during the rainy season when it washes back into the town.
After these meetings, we saw that it was necessary to set up two KVIPs 10-seater each because of the number of people in the village. The group them took us to the two sites, which were approved by the DANIDA sanitation officer to be appropriate for the facility. The important factors were that it was more than 150 yards from the water and that the facility be water tight. This means that the tanks into which the excrement falls must be cement on all sides so that it can be pumped out by a truck when it is full. The small user fees that will be charged by the GHAFUP group who will be maintaining the facility will pay for periodic cleaning and waste removal as well as be contributed back to a revolving fund for other projects. People's Dialogue projects act like somewhere between a loan and a grant, there isn't full cost recovery, but much of the initial cost is paid back into a fund which will be used for other projects. In addition, the community members also take a portion of the funds as their profit as they are running the business. It's a very effective and community-based and led strategy.
The rest of the day we spent touring the area. I encountered one image that I think will always stick with me. We came to the main KVIP for Abotoase, and it was completely full. For almost a year there hasn't been money to empty the tanks and replace the stolen pipes. I went totake pictures to notify the office so maybe we could issue a loan to repair the facility. Every stall door I opened, I was met by a completely full toilet, filled to the brim with crap and covered in a layer of moving white maggots. After seeing the decay of the main facility for many of our members, Mr.Kumaa wisely decided (out of the passion he has for other GHAFUP members) that we should figure out a way to repair it. We talked with the assemblyman for quite some time about what is needed to fix it and developed a cost outline of a 750 GHc loan (about $600) that could completely rennovate the facility. Because they will be charging for the use of the facility and there are thousands that need it but have nothing now, they will be able to make back the full cost in about 14 months. So we will take with the People's Dialogue office about making a micro-loan to the group for that amount to undertake this business venture. Once completed, it will be the groups job to maintain the facility and recieve the profit after the loan is paid back.
Now I am left with all this information, charged with the mission to create a proposal for a toilet in Klagbokorpe and a micro-loan proposal to rennovate the KVIP in Abotoase. It was a very interesting couple days and I grew immensely as I became empowered by the work and the potential I saw in the ability of people to solve problems themselves. I think it's key to invest in the people to solve the problem, to build the facility and maintain it so they will make sure it is kept in order and the benefit is fully within the community. I saw many other toilets that broke down after being built by an NGO and then were neglected, but I actually have faith that this one will stay for generations. It's a thrilling thing to see the difference that I as one person can make just by helping people translate a small, ineffective proposal they sent the office telling us about the issue, to using their stories to make a full scale proposal for an international donor, to guiding them in how to complete this project. The impact on the community will be enormous. Klagborpe has been around for many many years and has clamoured for toilets to NGOs and the District Assembly, but no one has come. The fact that the Federation, a group of 35 community members themselves can bring the project to the community themselves is a crowning and empowering achievement. I only pray that there is a funder out there willing to consider the project.
Just thought it was too important not to share!
Best,
Ben
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Hello!
Dearest friends,
Life as always has been exciting the past two weeks! Yesterday, I went on an adventure with my host family to Akosombo Dam-the largest Dam in Ghana. On route to the dam, we saw two monkeys perched on the side of the road, a very rare sight. On the way to the dam we stopped at my host mother sisters house, which was very much what I percieved all of Ghana to be. The houses were rectangular, mud-made with palm fron roofs. When we arrived in the village we started touring around a nice man named Joseph showed us around his home and fed us Womentausen, the smalled fish I've ever seen with a sweet corn meal called Abolo. After sitting with the family for a while, we headed off the to Dam and recieved a tour. Wahab, my host brother is afraid of heights so we had a good time making fun of him for that on the way to the dam. The Aksombo Dam is on the Volta River and created the Volta Lake, the largest man-made lake in the world. The dam itself creates about 161kvolts I believe and supplies electricity to much of Ghana as well as Togo and Benin. After recieving a tour we headed back towards the town of my mothers sister and stopped along the Volta river at a fishing village to buy fish. At the fishing village I was adamantly followed by a fishing women who told me I should take her as my wife. When I said no, she said "But I love you, but I love you...say you love me too". The next fve minutes of conversation was me saying "No, No, I don't love you, sorry". At the fish market we bought the largest fish I've ever seen that had to have weighed about 25 pounds, it was like a small shark. So we headed back to the village and picked up a chicken that Auntie's mothers sister had provided to us as a gift. Armed with a chicken, a mini-shark, and a dozen small fish we headed home. On the way home we killed 40 birds with one stone and picked up mangoes, nkruma (Okra), onions, a large sack of rice, dried clams, and crawfish. So it was a very loud and full car. Nonetheless, there was a true feeling of family and we laughed and joked in the tro-tro.
My internship has really kept me busy. I've visited Old Fadama, the largest slum in Ghana, to sit it on three of the group meetings and conduct a interview session about the success of micro-business loans. I helped Philip, the emerging leader of GHAFUP, to develop a report about his travels auditing project loans. I am now working on evaluating People's Dialogues HIV/AIDS program that is funded by none other then AJWS-it's a small world. The work I'm doing with this is extremely interesting as I'm starting to understand the perceptions of slum dwellers towards HIV/AIDS. So far I can tell that many percieve it to be caused by witchcraft, a curse, or a result of past transgressions. Many percieve it to be transmitted by touch and that they should isolate persons with HIV so that others won't get infected. I'm learning a ton about self-help and about this organization's work in Ghana.
Last weekend was also particularly interesting as I traveled to Kumasi with a friend of mine named Dranaya. We left Accra at about 6pm and arrived in Kumasi at midnight, we got on a tro tro at 12am that was the most sketchy ride I've been on. We stopped along the route so people could get out and pop a squat by the side of the road. Within 5 minutes of getting on the tro there was a huge argument that spurred as one women paid the fair but lost the ticket-so one row was shouting at another and then the back joined in and the whole car was shouting for 15 minutes at least. Finally it stopped. At one point we stopped for what I thought was a bathroom break and a man and a women got off together and went behind a building, but then the mate noticed and ran after them and shouted at them for 5 minutes, I'm pretty sure whe was a prostitute and was servicing him. My view was supported as they both came back zipping and buttoning their pants. So we stayed in Guosu in a nice appartment that Dranaya owned. The next day we wondered around the time as Dranaya and I socialized with many of his friends-this was where he grew up. Eventually we made our way to the local hopsital where I recieved a tour. Then we headed to Mim and got a tour of Mim's water production facility. This was very interesting because Dranaya, having worked for the Identification service of the government, told them he was from the Identification Service and asked for a tour, after whipping out his card they agreed. It was fascinating! So then we took a walk through the bush to the timber production facility but didn't get a tour because it was closed. So we headed home and the guys (3 of us) cooked dinner for ourselves-Banku and Okra soup, my favorite. The night was a little interesting as there was a Ghanaian girl that Dranaya wanted to link me up with who later offered to wash me. When I looked at her confused she said "Are you scared, are you shy", so I said "no fine, let's go". She asked me to wait, but eventually told me "Go shower, tommorrow I will wash you". It was quite funny. So the next day we headed to Lake Bosomtwe, a very beautiful large lake that apparently is very far from Kumasi. We took one tro after another and eventually ended up in a town of Dranaya's friend who went with us to the lake, but we took three more tro-tros. Finally arriving, we spent about 2 hours at the lake as we ate lunch, drank palm wine, and I went on a small walk to a secluded spot where I could sit and reflect. It was a beautiful lake. Getting on a bus at about 4 I headed back to Accra. I got into Circle tro-tro station pretty late around 9:30 and it was quite intense. It was loud and hectic. A man pounded on the tro-tro I got in claiming I had insulted him and wanting to fight me. Thank God I was in a tro-tro already.
So as you can tell things have stayed interesting. This past week I finished my Twi class, hopefully I did well. My drumming class is very interesting as we are now studying our third song. And of course my internship will stay interesting as I start the evaluation and attending a workshop on HIV/AIDS for slum community members sometime soon.
Much love to all of my friends and family. I wish that I could be there to celebrate all the joys with you and be there for all of you during your hard times. I miss you all very much.
Yebehyia Bio,
Ben
Life as always has been exciting the past two weeks! Yesterday, I went on an adventure with my host family to Akosombo Dam-the largest Dam in Ghana. On route to the dam, we saw two monkeys perched on the side of the road, a very rare sight. On the way to the dam we stopped at my host mother sisters house, which was very much what I percieved all of Ghana to be. The houses were rectangular, mud-made with palm fron roofs. When we arrived in the village we started touring around a nice man named Joseph showed us around his home and fed us Womentausen, the smalled fish I've ever seen with a sweet corn meal called Abolo. After sitting with the family for a while, we headed off the to Dam and recieved a tour. Wahab, my host brother is afraid of heights so we had a good time making fun of him for that on the way to the dam. The Aksombo Dam is on the Volta River and created the Volta Lake, the largest man-made lake in the world. The dam itself creates about 161kvolts I believe and supplies electricity to much of Ghana as well as Togo and Benin. After recieving a tour we headed back towards the town of my mothers sister and stopped along the Volta river at a fishing village to buy fish. At the fishing village I was adamantly followed by a fishing women who told me I should take her as my wife. When I said no, she said "But I love you, but I love you...say you love me too". The next fve minutes of conversation was me saying "No, No, I don't love you, sorry". At the fish market we bought the largest fish I've ever seen that had to have weighed about 25 pounds, it was like a small shark. So we headed back to the village and picked up a chicken that Auntie's mothers sister had provided to us as a gift. Armed with a chicken, a mini-shark, and a dozen small fish we headed home. On the way home we killed 40 birds with one stone and picked up mangoes, nkruma (Okra), onions, a large sack of rice, dried clams, and crawfish. So it was a very loud and full car. Nonetheless, there was a true feeling of family and we laughed and joked in the tro-tro.
My internship has really kept me busy. I've visited Old Fadama, the largest slum in Ghana, to sit it on three of the group meetings and conduct a interview session about the success of micro-business loans. I helped Philip, the emerging leader of GHAFUP, to develop a report about his travels auditing project loans. I am now working on evaluating People's Dialogues HIV/AIDS program that is funded by none other then AJWS-it's a small world. The work I'm doing with this is extremely interesting as I'm starting to understand the perceptions of slum dwellers towards HIV/AIDS. So far I can tell that many percieve it to be caused by witchcraft, a curse, or a result of past transgressions. Many percieve it to be transmitted by touch and that they should isolate persons with HIV so that others won't get infected. I'm learning a ton about self-help and about this organization's work in Ghana.
Last weekend was also particularly interesting as I traveled to Kumasi with a friend of mine named Dranaya. We left Accra at about 6pm and arrived in Kumasi at midnight, we got on a tro tro at 12am that was the most sketchy ride I've been on. We stopped along the route so people could get out and pop a squat by the side of the road. Within 5 minutes of getting on the tro there was a huge argument that spurred as one women paid the fair but lost the ticket-so one row was shouting at another and then the back joined in and the whole car was shouting for 15 minutes at least. Finally it stopped. At one point we stopped for what I thought was a bathroom break and a man and a women got off together and went behind a building, but then the mate noticed and ran after them and shouted at them for 5 minutes, I'm pretty sure whe was a prostitute and was servicing him. My view was supported as they both came back zipping and buttoning their pants. So we stayed in Guosu in a nice appartment that Dranaya owned. The next day we wondered around the time as Dranaya and I socialized with many of his friends-this was where he grew up. Eventually we made our way to the local hopsital where I recieved a tour. Then we headed to Mim and got a tour of Mim's water production facility. This was very interesting because Dranaya, having worked for the Identification service of the government, told them he was from the Identification Service and asked for a tour, after whipping out his card they agreed. It was fascinating! So then we took a walk through the bush to the timber production facility but didn't get a tour because it was closed. So we headed home and the guys (3 of us) cooked dinner for ourselves-Banku and Okra soup, my favorite. The night was a little interesting as there was a Ghanaian girl that Dranaya wanted to link me up with who later offered to wash me. When I looked at her confused she said "Are you scared, are you shy", so I said "no fine, let's go". She asked me to wait, but eventually told me "Go shower, tommorrow I will wash you". It was quite funny. So the next day we headed to Lake Bosomtwe, a very beautiful large lake that apparently is very far from Kumasi. We took one tro after another and eventually ended up in a town of Dranaya's friend who went with us to the lake, but we took three more tro-tros. Finally arriving, we spent about 2 hours at the lake as we ate lunch, drank palm wine, and I went on a small walk to a secluded spot where I could sit and reflect. It was a beautiful lake. Getting on a bus at about 4 I headed back to Accra. I got into Circle tro-tro station pretty late around 9:30 and it was quite intense. It was loud and hectic. A man pounded on the tro-tro I got in claiming I had insulted him and wanting to fight me. Thank God I was in a tro-tro already.
So as you can tell things have stayed interesting. This past week I finished my Twi class, hopefully I did well. My drumming class is very interesting as we are now studying our third song. And of course my internship will stay interesting as I start the evaluation and attending a workshop on HIV/AIDS for slum community members sometime soon.
Much love to all of my friends and family. I wish that I could be there to celebrate all the joys with you and be there for all of you during your hard times. I miss you all very much.
Yebehyia Bio,
Ben
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