Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Living at Twindrase
I have decided to write about individual experiences and observations I have rather than write this blog chronologically. To begin with let me paint a picture of my lifestyle out here in the countryside:
I live with 30 other volunteers at one of three volunteer houses in Ghana. Mine is in Twindrase. The many amenities include no running water, no air-conditioning, electricity which is iffy at best, 3 inches of nasty foam to act as a mattress, and bizarrely, satellite tv (although it is very weather dependant.) I have 3 other sweaty grown men in my room who also share the burden of not having a washing machine or shower.
You may be asking yourselves, how do I keep clean and wash my clothes then? My initial answer would be with great difficulty. There is one tap where we get dirty water from a water tank. (Leaves and bugs are common sights in the water) Using this dirty water, a combination of buckets and whatever soap is on hand, we manage to have cold showers and wash our clothes. I must admit that I have yet to wash my clothes. When looking at the veterans who’ve been here a while, you can tell washing your clothes hardly makes a difference. Our greatest ally against smelling completely savage is deodorant at the moment.
Every morning we are supposed to leave the house at 8:00am and head off to our projects in multiple Tro-tro’s or taxi’s depending on the number of people. (A post will deal with transport in Ghana – it’s crazy) However due to Ghanaian efficiency we tend to leave between 8:15 and 8:45. Ghana runs by GMT. However, unlike in England where this means Greenwich Mean Time, in Ghana, this acronym stands for Ghana Maybe Time. Similarly, my phone network MTN is really an acronym for “Most Terrible Network” offering coverage only in very specific and hard to find spots around Ghana.
After our projects, we tend to arrive back to the house by 3:30. Washing, napping, cooking, the occasional film then lead us to bed after what always ends up being an exhausting day.
I live with 30 other volunteers at one of three volunteer houses in Ghana. Mine is in Twindrase. The many amenities include no running water, no air-conditioning, electricity which is iffy at best, 3 inches of nasty foam to act as a mattress, and bizarrely, satellite tv (although it is very weather dependant.) I have 3 other sweaty grown men in my room who also share the burden of not having a washing machine or shower.
You may be asking yourselves, how do I keep clean and wash my clothes then? My initial answer would be with great difficulty. There is one tap where we get dirty water from a water tank. (Leaves and bugs are common sights in the water) Using this dirty water, a combination of buckets and whatever soap is on hand, we manage to have cold showers and wash our clothes. I must admit that I have yet to wash my clothes. When looking at the veterans who’ve been here a while, you can tell washing your clothes hardly makes a difference. Our greatest ally against smelling completely savage is deodorant at the moment.
Every morning we are supposed to leave the house at 8:00am and head off to our projects in multiple Tro-tro’s or taxi’s depending on the number of people. (A post will deal with transport in Ghana – it’s crazy) However due to Ghanaian efficiency we tend to leave between 8:15 and 8:45. Ghana runs by GMT. However, unlike in England where this means Greenwich Mean Time, in Ghana, this acronym stands for Ghana Maybe Time. Similarly, my phone network MTN is really an acronym for “Most Terrible Network” offering coverage only in very specific and hard to find spots around Ghana.
After our projects, we tend to arrive back to the house by 3:30. Washing, napping, cooking, the occasional film then lead us to bed after what always ends up being an exhausting day.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Mpraeso - Rural Ghana the BBQ kids
I've managed to find a little dinky internet cafe in town over from Mpraeso (a 20 min drive and a $1.50 taxi ride) I'm not gonna comment on the speed of the internet but i think a suitable metaphor would be a dead animal.
I've been taking notes on my laptop so I can recount what has been going on. Since I do not have these notes (or the pictures) I will make this short and only give you one story.
We had a barbecue last night to celebrate peoples last night before leaving back to civilization. We had "Rasta" catering the BBQ (at a total cost of $3 each) with this came a huge set of speakers. The Ghanaian children flocked.
Ghanaian children are innately the most amazing dancers. They all seem to naturally be able to move their bodies to the beat. Not a single Obrouni (White person) could compare. The kids were mainly ages between 2 and 5 and had no stage fright whatsoever. My favorite part in Ghana so far has been interacting with these cute little buggers.
On Monday I start teaching properly. I have a class with students between the ages 12 and 15. We shall see how it goes. I taught 10yr olds today and found it so rewarding. I hope these older chaps are equally fun.
I've been taking notes on my laptop so I can recount what has been going on. Since I do not have these notes (or the pictures) I will make this short and only give you one story.
We had a barbecue last night to celebrate peoples last night before leaving back to civilization. We had "Rasta" catering the BBQ (at a total cost of $3 each) with this came a huge set of speakers. The Ghanaian children flocked.
Ghanaian children are innately the most amazing dancers. They all seem to naturally be able to move their bodies to the beat. Not a single Obrouni (White person) could compare. The kids were mainly ages between 2 and 5 and had no stage fright whatsoever. My favorite part in Ghana so far has been interacting with these cute little buggers.
On Monday I start teaching properly. I have a class with students between the ages 12 and 15. We shall see how it goes. I taught 10yr olds today and found it so rewarding. I hope these older chaps are equally fun.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Ghana Day 1 - everyone is related?
After breakfast, I was then taken on a tour of the estate by the two most mischievous 13 year old boys I've ever met. Aaron and Jasper. They are fraternal twins. At one point on our walk Aaron hopped onto the back of a passing truck driving by to get a lift in a very street urchin like manner. However after Jasper and I didn't follow suit, he hopped off again 30 yards down the road only to realise he now had grime all over his hands. (i suppose there is a moral in there somewhere) After the tour, I ended up spending the whole day with this boys and began wondering if they were related to everyone in Accra. Together we went in an almost futile search for a sim card for my phone. Every store we went to, the boys would say "Auntie, can we register a sim card here?" and then after some benign chatter, we'd be assured the next place would have them. 30 years and 400 shops later, we finally managed to procure and register a sim card although by now I thought Jasper and Aaron had at least 50 aunts and uncles.
Earlier in the morning, I was introduced to "Auntie Leonora" who was a lovely Ghanian lady. Perplexed, I began asking questions. From what I understand so far, that instead of being called Mr or Mrs, Ghanians are called Auntie and Uncle. As well as that, Lesley said that "Mommy" was becoming fashionable too. I'm still unsure what all these things mean but i've also heard "cousin" and "brother" used when referring to people who are not even remotely related by blood. (Aaron and Jasper referred to an "Uncle Hanz" who it turns out is german for example and defiantly not related.)
After securing our sim card, Aaron spotted a group of boys dancing so promptly, in a very cocky 13 year old manner, said he will go challenge them to a dance off. Sadly on arrival, they refused. It turns out these boys were refugees from Cote D'Ivore and had arrived last month due to the unrest. My french came in handy since only one of them spoke english. They were 3 brothers. 18, 17 and 15. I am so glad my Middlebury education is coming in handy.
On arriving back to the house, we played with the cutest five year old boy called Emmanuel. Emmanuel speaks only a dialect called Ewe which no-one but his father understands. I am told his only words in English are "I'm fine, thank you" although he decided to only spoke Ewe to me. Interacting with him has made me really look forward to the teaching i'm going to be doing out in the rural areas starting wednesday or thursday.
Things I learnt/did otherwise:
1. The colours in the flag: Red for the blood spilt to gain independence, Yellow for the gold, Green for the vegetation, and the black star for the colour of their skin.
2. Went to Accra's "Oxford Street"
3. Lots of small things which I can't begin to explain.
Earlier in the morning, I was introduced to "Auntie Leonora" who was a lovely Ghanian lady. Perplexed, I began asking questions. From what I understand so far, that instead of being called Mr or Mrs, Ghanians are called Auntie and Uncle. As well as that, Lesley said that "Mommy" was becoming fashionable too. I'm still unsure what all these things mean but i've also heard "cousin" and "brother" used when referring to people who are not even remotely related by blood. (Aaron and Jasper referred to an "Uncle Hanz" who it turns out is german for example and defiantly not related.)
After securing our sim card, Aaron spotted a group of boys dancing so promptly, in a very cocky 13 year old manner, said he will go challenge them to a dance off. Sadly on arrival, they refused. It turns out these boys were refugees from Cote D'Ivore and had arrived last month due to the unrest. My french came in handy since only one of them spoke english. They were 3 brothers. 18, 17 and 15. I am so glad my Middlebury education is coming in handy.
On arriving back to the house, we played with the cutest five year old boy called Emmanuel. Emmanuel speaks only a dialect called Ewe which no-one but his father understands. I am told his only words in English are "I'm fine, thank you" although he decided to only spoke Ewe to me. Interacting with him has made me really look forward to the teaching i'm going to be doing out in the rural areas starting wednesday or thursday.
Things I learnt/did otherwise:
1. The colours in the flag: Red for the blood spilt to gain independence, Yellow for the gold, Green for the vegetation, and the black star for the colour of their skin.
2. Went to Accra's "Oxford Street"
3. Lots of small things which I can't begin to explain.
My Arrival into Ghana
My first taste of Ghanaian culture was while the plane still on the ground at Heathrow Airport terminal 5. I must have looked confused while trying to find a place for my bag in the overhead locker because before I knew it, 3 Ghanaian ladies were all telling me where to put it as though they were taking care of me. Then after sitting down, one of them offered me a pack of crisps. The Ghanaians were shockingly friendly. For someone who has been used to plying the route between JFK and Heathrow where passengers shuffle around each other with complete indifference, this was a very welcome change.
One amusing thing I found during the flight was the fervour with which Ghanians attacked the duty free. While disembarking the plane, each of them to a person must have been carrying a filled duty free bag along with their normal hand-luggage. I never thought people actually bought things on planes unless they needed a last minute present to give to someone on arrival.
It was a humid 29 degrees Celsius (at 8:30pm) when we landed at Accra. Lesley picked me up and ushered me into the welcome air-conditioned car after an almost two hour wait to get through the confused Ghanaian security. It was then a short ride to Lesley's beautiful house situated in the lovely gated community of Trasaco. After a quick meal with Lesley and Emily, I headed off to bed.
My Ghanaian adventure had begun.
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