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.
Friday, May 27, 2011
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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