A Canadian Couple Relishes Acronyms

2010-01-01T00:01:00.000Z

Marta and I lived in Ghana from September 2006 until May 2007, and we recorded much of the trip on this blog. We still post things here, occasionally, such as these two articles I wrote on the experience that were published after returning home, and Marta's report on the trip for the University of Calgary.

Feel free to peruse the whole site. For a quick taste of what the experience was like for us, here is a selection of our favourite posts:

September 10th - "Mr. Barfy" (Our first day/night)
September 11th - "I don't want to live a fufu life" (Marta's first day of work)
September 23rd - "Clap for Jesus Enterprises" (My first game of basketball)
October 8th - "Before Before Shopping Centre" (After a visit to Nkrumah's Mausoleum)
October 17th - "(Boyz-Boyz) Blue Cheese Rice Restaurant" (Featuring: The debut of the Obruni Factor [O.F.])
October 25th - "Happy Yourself Tailoring Shop" (Featuring: Bees)
November 11th - "Powerful Jesus Ventures Video Rental + Comm." (Crash Course on all things Ghanaian)
November 21st - "Untitled" (Thanksgiving and football)
December 23rd - "Happy Holidays!" (Our Christmas Card)
January 10th - "The Confident Urge (Final Version?)" (Visa fun)
February 13th - "Don't Mind Your Wife Chop Bar" (Mosquito hunting)
February 19th - "Tamale Update" (Marta's report from the north)
March 6th - "Happy 50th Anniversary Ghana!" (Marta's photo collage of the celebrations)

If we can't go back to Ghana...

2009-03-15T22:43:00.003Z

Ghana will come to us!

Go Snow Leopard, go!

Finally Canadian documentaries get the kick in the butt they need

2009-01-28T00:54:00.001Z

Nollywood style. Sharp-sharp, let's go-let's go!

The Greatest Ad (and Catchiest Jingle) in Ghanaian History

2008-02-12T08:51:00.001Z

Glossy Tourism Ad

2008-02-12T08:50:00.001Z

Dwarf - 1,000 years

2008-02-11T01:57:00.000Z

We have a scanner now - what a great opportunity to bring an aforementioned gem of tro-tro lit straight to you. From the back pages of "Biography of Ghana Leaders" (click on it to expand it):

"We'll work and work and work and by the time we are Ghana @ Diamond we will just be a country"

2008-01-03T09:13:00.000Z

KSM, Ghana's top comedian, gave this performance in Accra while we were in town - though we weren't about to throw around the money needed to attend...

You can listen to it free here - it's good stuff:

BBC World Service Posting on KSM
Just the Audio

U of C Article

2007-10-04T03:18:00.001Z

As you may recall, the whole reason Rob and I were in Ghana was because I was doing a CIDA funded internship that was coordinated by the University of Calgary, my implementing organization. The U of C has recently added an article that I wrote for them to their website. The article summarizes some of my thoughts and reflections on the whole professional and personal experience of being in Ghana. If you'd like to read it, you can find it here!

Stop, Collaborate and Listen!

2007-09-27T03:26:00.003Z

King Ayisoba at Labadi Pleasure Beach

2007-09-27T03:26:00.001Z

Pitiful Calls

2007-09-27T00:05:00.000Z

Ah, flashing...phone calls that are immediately cut off - either from credit-low friends who want you to call them back or from people who are letting you know they are thinking about you (whether or not you only met them once for two minutes, in a bus station on the other side of the country, five weeks previously). Of course, you are never quite sure which, and can waste quite a few phone credits trying to differentiate between the two.

Finally, this curse is making the media splash it so rightly deserves (Thanks, Aaron, for the link):

Phone credit low? Africa goes 'beeping'

new blog

2007-09-21T17:17:00.000Z

Terry and Erin, a couple of our good friends from our time in Ghana (who recently came to visit us in Vancouver) are back in Ghana for another six-month stay - and this time they have a blog! Check out all their tomfoolery at: bewisedonturinate.blogspot.com!

How international agricultural policies affect Ghana

2007-09-05T02:40:00.000Z

Farmers Decry Lack of Government Support

Last Friday, a cross section of Ghanaian farmers, matched through the principal streets of Accra and converged at the premises of the Ministry of Finance and Economic planning and held a minute silence in protest against the government's unwillingness to protect them against dumping of cheap goods on the market. In an enactment, akin to a tribute for a lost soul, the peasant farmers, numbering over two hundred, hung down their placards with hats off their heads and remained mute for a couple of minutes in front of the finance ministry and in the presence of the Ministry's Head of Communication, Mr. Kwaku Kwarteng, demonstrating how the death of agriculture symbolizes their own deaths.

With the backing of civil society activists and fair trade campaigners from the Ghana Trade and LivelihoodsCoalition, the farmers told the government through the finance ministry that they did not have anything more to say, save to mourn their plight in their presence. Chanting war songs, the farmers, mainly rice, cotton, tomato and poultry producers, said a month earlier they had presented a petition to the ministry in which they catalogued their demands. They therefore did not see the need repeating what they had told the government just weeks earlier. Their presence at the ministry on Friday was just to sing dirges. The farmers are bitter that the dumping of cheap goods, coupled with western hypocrisy and their own government's inaction have combined to kill their sources of livelihoods. As a result, their children have dropped out of school, wives, husbands and kinsmen have died in hospitals because they cannot pay fees.

Mr. Ibrahim Akalbila, the Coordinator of the Ghana Trade and Livelihoods Coalition (GTLC) re-echoed the theme of the farmers match: "Protective Policies; the Best Way to Reward farmers" and reminded the government that the Farmers Day is recognized and superficially celebrated in recognition of the contribution of farmers but the best reward to farmers would have been to protect them against the influx of cheap imports. "We are calling for a better reward system where every farmer in Ghana benefits. That is a system where policies and support mechanisms that benefit thousands of farmers and improve their livelihoods are passed and implemented. That, we think, would be a better way to recognize the contribution of Ghanaian farmers."

Mr. Kwarteng who received the farmers said the concern of farmers ought to be the concerns of all citizens because it is when farmers are able to feed themselves that every one is fed. He therefore promised the farmers that the government is critically examining their concerns. Precisely the same date in 2005, the farmers had told the government that they were not happy that the multilateral free trade arrangement had whittled the fortunes and source of livelihoods of many food crop farmers in the country, but the government is yet to resist the liberalization drive.

The farmers noted with regret, the results of trade injustice on the people of Ghana, particularly the closure of the Bolgatanga Rice Mill, the Pwalugu Tomato Factory, and the difficulties facing the Pusunamongo Cotton Ginnery, among others and had wanted civil society groups to team up with governments, to influence decisions at the Hong Kong round of trade talks in favour of peasant farmers. Though the Hong Kong trade talks have stalled and the Doha round, where development was promised has collapsed, these do not signal the end of the farmers struggle. At the backyard within ECOWAS, the European Union is spiritedly trying to smuggle EPAs, which will, all but kill indigenous business. "We will resist the powers, because it is a struggle to survive." And that is what Ghanaian peasant farmers have set for themselves as mission accomplishable, said one farmer.

Earlier in the week these sentiments were made at a durbar to mark the first farmers' week organized by the Ghana Trade and Livelihoods Coalition, (GTLC), which comprises over fifty non-governmental organisations, farmer groups and other civil society organisations nationwide. The maiden farmers' week at Okyereko in the Central Region was on the theme, "Protective Policies, The Best Way to Award the Farmer." The Chief of Okyereko, a rice producing area in the Central Region, Nana Ntsiful Ababio XI at a durbar appealed to government to help them get buyers for their produce to improve their lot. Currently, the Okyereko Farmers Cooperative, (OFC) has about thousand five hundred mini bags of locally produced rice and 750 maxi bags stacked at the town's rehabilitated irrigation plant waiting for buyers.

According to the Vice President of the OFC, Mr. Emmanuel Amoaku, the group hopes to install a mill by next month to enable it bag its produced rice. The farmers say their dream of engaging in vegetable farming were dashed when government failed to honour its 15% responsibility to develop the idle land in the area to cultivate vegetables, even though JICA was ready to support 85% of the project. The Director of Christian Aid, Mr. Daleep Mukarje described as unfair the worsening poverty situation in Ghana, where children are out of school, given the enormous resources the country has.

He noted that debt cancellation and aid can never take people out of poverty but only make them dependent. "Countries must be allowed to do what is right to take them out of poverty. They must be given the right to make choices but not forced to implement policies imposed by Breton woods institutions such as the IMF and the World Bank." Mr. Mukarje emphasized that Christian Aid's campaign for Trade Justice is necessary to make the developed world aware of the need to develop sound trade policies to eradicate poverty in third world countries and not aid. "We are asking the European Union and the rich countries of North America and elsewhere to look at their policies that do not enhance the lives of people."
The Ghana Trade and Livelihood Coalition hopes to make the farmers week celebration an annual affair that would precede the National Farmers Day.

The Coordinator of the GTLC, Mr. Ibrahim Akalbila said the coalition is apprehensive about the present trend of reward of a few hardworking farmers on the farmers' days where cutlasses, household electrical equipment, tractors and vehicles are presented. The coalition suggests the best way to reward farmers is for government to guarantee access to their national markets, to be given targeted investment, to ensure strict implementation of policies, have access to favourable credit facilities and supported to add value to their produce. Mr. Akalbila conceded that government cannot solely solve the numerous challenges faced by farmers. However, he stated that the coalition is convinced government has the singular role of ensuring that the environment is not detrimental to the development of the small farmer as an economic unit.

He argued that with better economic circumstance the Ghanaian small scale farmer can contribute their quota not just to food security but also to the overall economic development. "The GTLC thinks that the present low level of production of small farmers, value addition and the declining livelihood situation of small farmers and producers, is an indictment on the quality of leadership by successive governments." The Coordinator regretted that leaders and public officials have become guardians and defenders of the World Bank and IMF liberalization policies rather than being torch bearers of national development. He emphasized that civil society must directly and indirectly bear the consequences of the ineffective policy and influence the substance and implementation of the national agriculture and trade policies that affect our lives.

The Minister for Food and Agriculture failed to honour the invitation as guest speaker for such a laudable programme. He also failed to send a representative.

Video Tour of Elmina Castle

2007-08-20T07:37:00.001Z

"Pick-Up" in Ghana

2007-07-14T01:00:00.000Z

5:10 PM. I'm late. Unlike at home in Canada, I don't have to worry about scrambling into my soccer gear - in Ghana the heat forces you to wear shorts and a t-shirt at all times, and shin pads or cleats would get you laughed off the pitch. I burst out the door and wind my way along dusty roads to the pitch, past my neighbour's ramshackle houses and humble streetfront shops. A few people wave on the way, though the site of a lanky, sweating obruni ("foreigner" in a local language) no longer surprises as it did only a few months before. I round the corner and the game has already started. The players know that there is only a brief moment each day when the temperature is low enough (under 35°C) to play, and they aren't about to waste a minute of that time. I squat on a concrete block on the sideline, waiting to be subbed in. The ball, a dull orange, half-deflated "sports ball", is already caked in its usual thick layer of grime, as three sides of the pitch are lined with open sewers.

5:15 PM. Arriving late often results in an evening on the sideline, as the subs can sometimes outnumber the players five-fold. Today, however, I'm in luck, and the numbers are low. "Crouch! Crouch!" yells one of the players, waving me into the game. (Soon after my arrival in Ghana, I acquired the nickname “Peter Crouch,” after the Liverpool striker, a name which they assured me referred only to my pasty whiteness, and not to my facial features. I pretended to believe them.) The pitch is small and the pace is frenetic. A cloud of dust whirls around the ball as it is chipped into the air, then travels off the feet, chests and foreheads of three players before bouncing off the cinder-block goal post and in. I flail about in my attempt to keep up, though this proves impossible. There is no time to stop and think; there are no set plays in this game. It is all speed and imagination, two things which I was left lacking in from my Canadian soccer training.

When finally the ball arrives on my foot, three voices are already shouting. Everyone is always open, and every pass is possible. I move the ball conservatively back to the keeper, much to the chagrin of my three streaking teammates. The keeper, in turn, lobs the ball deftly down the length of the pitch, as if to show me how to do it. One of our strikers quickly gathers it in and drills it through the goalposts. Generously, they give me partial credit for the goal as they trot back, grins slathered across their faces.

5:35 PM. Twenty minutes in and already two goals. I am half-blind from the sweat and dirt. My legs and arms are covered with a thick layer of sewage and dirt. My skin is still white enough, however, to get the occasional “Crouchy!” call from the primary school kids who line the edges of the pitch. They come every week to watch and hope, though they rarely play. I am gasping for air and sub one of them in – eleven years younger and two feet shorter than myself, I’m still rather confident that he’ll outperform me. His name is Peter, and though slightly bitter that I showed up and stole his nickname, he forgives me a little more every time I sub him in. Immediately, he is off and running, throwing himself against opponents and chasing down every loose ball. He knows that, as a twelve-year-old amongst adults, he has little time on the pitch to prove his worth, and he takes advantage of what’s given to him.

5:45 PM. I sub back in. Miraculously, Peter is still on the pitch, beaming like a headlight. The crowd ripples with laughter, as our team’s offensive attack now consists of the two Crouches – a white guy and a child. The opposition whets their lips with anticipation; they have been waiting all game for a goal, and now see it all but ensured. Peter, though, has other plans. Lifting the ball onto one foot, he flips it over the head of his six-foot defender and slips past him. Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I stumble after the play. Three defenders converge on little Peter – they’ve clearly decided who the offensive threat is on our team. Cornered, he butts the ball off his heel, back to my waiting foot. I’ve learned my lesson, and go straight for the goal. The kick is clumsy, but it gets the job done. 3 – 0. Peter’s face explodes, all white, chiclet teeth. The celebration is abbreviated, though. Peter is subbed out and the ball is tossed back into play, the opposition more determined than ever. Peter doesn’t seem disappointed, he knows he’ll be able to play a few more minutes tomorrow.

6:00 PM. The sun has almost disappeared over the horizon. The score is 3-1, and our opponents agree, begrudgingly, to call the match. Almost immediately, the pitch is empty; the lack of streetlights encourages quick exits. The sun will be back tomorrow, though, and the pitch will be waiting.

For now, we return, contented, to our homes. I take an ice-cold shower; watch as clods of dirt spin and dissolve in the drain. Peter lays in bed, his head swirling with possibility. Slowly, the city, the continent, goes to sleep.

from the July 2007 issue of Free Kick Magazine

In The Globe and Mail?

2007-07-11T19:49:00.000Z

I just found this article on the inaugural issue of "Free Kick" soccer magazine, which references my story on football in Ghana that is featured therein. Something clearly got lost in translation, as neither of the details "pulled" from my story are accurate. Anyway, still pretty cool. Take a read here.

I'll post the full story soon. If you live in BC, though, you should be able to pick up a copy at a Skytrain station.

Awesome Tapes from Africa

2007-07-08T00:56:00.000Z

This blog is really great, with quite a number of Ghanaian musicians featured. Check it out:

Awesome Tapes from Africa

And while talking about blogs, I've upgraded One Ghana, One Voice's web address. It's now:

http://oneghanaonevoice.com

Blogtastic!

Kangaroo!

2007-05-28T19:22:00.000Z

Tic Tac Kangaroo

Happy Birthday Brian!

2007-04-28T04:22:00.000Z

Brian attempts to hum "Hit me with your Best Shot" during a game of Cranium one late night in Ghana.

Obruni Trotro Mate: YESSSSS!

2007-04-24T18:25:00.001Z

King Ayisoba: YESSSSS!

2007-04-24T18:24:00.001Z

Last Larium

2007-04-11T21:43:00.000Z

Today I took the last of my Malaria medication. Marta is flying in to Calgary from Poland tomorrow. I guess the trip is over. Strange.

In retrospect, here are my favorite posts from this blog:

September 10th - "Mr. Barfy" (Our first day/night)
September 11th - "I don't want to live a fufu life" (Marta's first day of work)
September 23rd - "Clap for Jesus Enterprises" (My first game of basketball)
October 8th - "Before Before Shopping Centre" (After a visit to Nkrumah's Mausoleum)
October 17th - "(Boyz-Boyz) Blue Cheese Rice Restaurant" (Featuring: The debut of the Obruni Factor [O.F.])
October 25th - "Happy Yourself Tailoring Shop" (Featuring: Bees)
November 11th - "Powerful Jesus Ventures Video Rental + Comm." (Crash Course on all things Ghanaian)
November 21st - "Untitled" (Thanksgiving and football)
December 23rd - "Happy Holidays!" (Our Christmas Card)
January 10th - "The Confident Urge (Final Version?)" (Visa fun)
February 13th - "Don't Mind Your Wife Chop Bar" (Mosquito hunting)
February 19th - "Tamale Update" (Marta's report from the north)
March 6th - "Happy 50th Anniversary Ghana!" (Marta's photo collage of the celebrations)

I suppose this blog is finished, then. Or at least it will get to sleep for a little while. Maybe when it returns it will have a new anagram. Who knows.

Until then, we will blog valiantly on elsewhere:

One Ghana, One Voice: http://oneghanaonevoice.blogspot.com
Marta's photos: http://martai.blogspot.com
Rob's poetry: http://rollofnickels.blogspot.com

Thank you from both of us for reading, writing, and generally supporting us throughout this incredible experience.

Shouts and Murmurs

2007-03-22T08:55:00.000Z

Over the weekend Aaron and I went to visit our co-worker, Olivia, and her family. I got to play with her kids, a very cute baby and 2 year old. It was nice to spend some time together as I hadn't really seen her since she left for maternity leave in December. I posted a few photos of our visit.

I've been unable to sleep for the past few days due to the heat. Last night I finally fell asleep around 5 am...
But funny articles like this keep me somewhat awake for my workday ;) :

Shouts & Murmurs
The Wisdom of Children
by Simon Rich March 2007
The New Yorker

I. A Conversation at the Grownup Table, as Imagined at the Kids’ Table

MOM: Pass the wine, please. I want to become crazy.

DAD: O.K.

GRANDMOTHER: Did you see the politics? It made me angry.

DAD: Me, too. When it was over, I had sex.

UNCLE: I’m having sex right now.

DAD: We all are.

MOM: Let’s talk about which kid I like the best.

DAD: (laughing) You know, but you won’t tell.

MOM: If they ask me again, I might tell.

FRIEND FROM WORK: Hey, guess what! My voice is pretty loud!

DAD: (laughing) There are actual monsters in the world, but when my kids ask I pretend like there aren’t.

MOM: I’m angry! I’m angry all of a sudden!

DAD: I’m angry, too! We’re angry at each other!

MOM: Now everything is fine.

DAD: We just saw the PG-13 movie. It was so good.

MOM: There was a big sex.

FRIEND FROM WORK: I am the loudest! I am the loudest!

(Everybody laughs.)

MOM: I had a lot of wine, and now I’m crazy!

GRANDFATHER: Hey, do you guys know what God looks like?

ALL: Yes.

GRANDFATHER: Don’t tell the kids.

II. A Day at UNICEF Headquarters, as I Imagined It in Third Grade

(UNICEF sits on a throne. He is wearing a cape and holding a sceptre. A servant enters, on his knees.)

UNICEF: Halloween is fast approaching! Have the third graders been given their little orange boxes?

SERVANT: Yes, your majesty!

UNICEF: Perfect. Did you tell them what the money was for?

SERVANT: No, sir, of course not! We just gave them the boxes and told them to collect for UNICEF. We said it was for “a good cause,” but we didn’t get any more specific than that.

UNICEF: Ha ha ha! Those fools! Soon I will have all the money in the world. For I am UNICEF, evil king of Halloween!

SERVANT: Sir . . . don’t you think you’ve stolen enough from the children? Maybe you should let them keep the money this year.

UNICEF: Never! The children shall toil forever to serve my greed!

(He tears open a little orange box full of coins and rubs them all over his fat stomach.)

UNICEF: Yes! Oh, yes!

SERVANT: Wait! Your majesty! Look at this! Our records indicate that there’s a kid out there—Simon—who’s planning to keep his UNICEF money this year.

UNICEF: What?! But what about my evil plans? I was going to give that money to the Russians so they could build a bomb!

SERVANT: (aside) I guess there’s still one hero left in this world.

UNICEF: No!

(He runs out of the castle, sobbing.)

SERVANT: Thank God Simon is keeping his UNICEF money.

SECOND SERVANT: Yes, it’s good that he’s keeping the money.

THIRD SERVANT: I agree. Simon is doing a good thing by keeping the money from the UNICEF box.

SERVANT: Then we’re all in agreement. Simon should keep the money.

III. How College Kids Imagine the United States Government

THE PRESENT DAY

—Did you hear the news, Mr. President? The students at the University of Pittsfield are walking out of their classes, in protest over the war.

—(spits out coffee) Wha— What did you say?

—Apparently, students are standing up in the middle of lectures and walking right out of the building.

—But students love lectures. If they’re willing to give those up, they must really be serious about this peace thing! How did you hear about this protest?

—The White House hears about every protest, no matter how small.

—Oh, right, I remember.

—You haven’t heard the half of it, Mr. President. The leader of the group says that if you don’t stop the war today they’re going to . . . to . . . I’m sorry, I can’t say it out loud. It’s just too terrifying.

—Say it, damn it! I’m the President!

—All right! If you don’t stop the war . . . they’re going to stop going to school for the remainder of the week.

—Send the troops home.

—But, Mr. President! Shouldn’t we talk about this?

—Send the troops home.

THE NINETEEN-SIXTIES

—Mr. President! Did you hear about Woodstock?

—Woo— Woodstock? What in God’s name is that?

—Apparently, young people hate the war so much they’re willing to participate in a musical sex festival as a protest against it.

—Oh, my God. They must really be serious about this whole thing.

—That’s not all. Some of them are threatening to join communes: places where they make their own clothing . . . and beat on drums.

—Stop the war.

—But, Mr. President!

—Stop all American wars!

—(sighs) Very well, sir. I’ll go tell the generals.

—Wow. It’s a good thing those kids decided to go hear music. ♦

I'm back in Vancouver

2007-03-19T17:50:00.000Z

That's about all I've got to say. If you are also in Vancouver, you should be my friend. Marta only has a week left in Ghana. You should be her friend, too, if only a long-distance friend at this point.

Photos!

2007-03-16T16:41:00.000Z

So there's nothing worth noting except that it rained today! Yes, this may sound utterly unimpressive to you Vancouverites but it has been a while since I saw or felt any rain! I'm well aware I will be sick of it after a few days back home, but as for today, it was quite refreshing :)

Other than that, I posted a bunch of photos from Independence Day, a visit to Tema's Port, and our trip to Wli Falls!

"Actually, Jerry is a Voltarian"

2007-03-12T20:36:00.000Z

I'm leaving in two days for Ottawa. I'll be home in Vancouver in a week. Ak! Marta will tarry behind for ten days, spend 2.5 weeks in Poland, and a few days debriefing in Calgary before finally making it home by mid-April.

Things are pretty hectic here with packing and repacking and worrying about packing and worrying about the amount of time we are spending packing and worrying about the amount of time we are spending worrying about packing, etc. Also, saying many goodbyes.In the midst of all this, Marta and I found the time to take a quick trip to the one corner of the country we hadn't yet visited (together, at least): the Volta region. The biggest draw of the region (and the only thing we had time to visit) was Wli Falls ("the highest waterfall in West Africa").

Seeing it was neat and rather uneventful (though our entire 2 hr. hike to and from the falls was filmed for the Park's promotional video - if you ever head to Wli Falls, look for us). What was eventful was this:

Within 48 hrs:

10 hrs of sweaty trotro rides
+
5 hrs of sweaty sitting in trotros waiting for them to fill up and leave the station
+
1 hr of very sweaty nine-person taxi ride*
+
4 hrs of sweaty walking
=
20 hrs (out of 32 waking hrs) of trip spent in (sweaty) discomfort in transit

This has produced an effect I would have thought otherwise impossible: I'm feeling ok with leaving.

It won't last long. Soon I'll be missing kelewele and back-street soccer and tilapia and kenke and hissing and raising-my-eyebrows-as-greeting and clothes-drying-in-a-couple-of-hours and music music music and hand-snapping and Fan-Ice-when-I-want-it-where-I-want-it and bathtubs full of bananas and being able to respond to people who call me "white man" by calling them "black man" without being beaten and lizards and monkeys and hearing people call Marta "white man" (which never stops being funny). But still, if I can fool myself for a couple days - atleast until I'm in the air - then it should make the rest of my time here go a little smoother.

See everyone in Vancouver soon. And put the heat on Marta to keep posting. I'll be a passive reader of this blog soon enough, too!

* How do you fit nine people in a five person taxi? Five in the back and four in the front (with the driver sitting on another man's lap). Oh, and while you're at it, throw 300 pounds of rice and three baskets of tomatos in the trunk.

Happy 50th Anniversary Ghana!

2007-03-06T23:00:00.001Z

(you can click on the photo to see a larger version)

new project

2007-03-02T19:54:00.000Z

check it out. and spread the word. we need lots and lots of writers and (more importantly) readers.

One Ghana, One Voice

What it is without having to click on anything (from the "About our Project" page):

Ghana has a long history of producing excellent poets (Kobena Eyi Acquah, Atukwei Okai, Kwesi Brew, etc. etc. etc.). These poets have in the past been supported by local magazines, such as Legon University's The Legacy, and international magazines like Black Orpheus (which has recently been revived). At this moment, however, little exists to support the next generation of Ghanaian poets and expose them to a broader audience of readers.

Likewise, Ghana itself is "underexposed" in contemporary literature, and the writings by many poets from around the world on Ghana, its people, culture and history, often goes unnoticed.

This site, then, is a small attempt to address both issues: to provide a venue to promote both Ghanaian poets and poetry on Ghana.

The format is simple. Every Saturday a new poet will be profiled with one of their poems posted alongside a personal biography.

Our hope is that, over time, a community can emerge through and amongst these writers, and that this site can serve as a place where diverse voices from different corners of the world can converge to create a collective image of a country.

One Poet, One Poem, One Ghana, One Voice.

Ghana @ 50

2007-02-27T12:57:00.000Z

The following article of mine was published in this week's issue of The Peak. The article can also be read online here. The print version includes a bunch of Marta's photos, and can be viewed as a .pdf here (pages 13 and 14).

Here's the fulltext:

Ghana at 50

On March 6, 2007, Ghana will be turning the big five-oh. If Canada’s national media does its job, you’ll hear a little about Ghana’s 50th. This is because Ghana’s anniversary is also Africa’s, as Ghana was the first African country to overthrow its colonial occupier post-WWII. With such historical weight behind it, this positive story out of Africa just might land a 30-second blurb at the end of a newscast. The image will probably be one of celebration: crowds gathering in the streets of Ghana’s capital, Accra, waving flags and cheering, as they did at independence in 1957. For many, this coverage will come as a needed respite from the flies-in-the-eyes reports on wars, plagues, and famines that usually dominate global reporting on Africa.

What you most likely won’t see in the news report is the space between those two contrasting images of Ghana — the place between jubilation and desolation where most Ghanaians live. More specifically, you won’t get a sense of the strange mixture of pride and shame that resides in the citizens of Accra during the lead-up to the Golden Jubilee celebrations.

Accra is ‘cleaning’ itself up, with the Accra Metropolitan Association (AMA) leading the charge. Taxi drivers, who often barely scrape together a living wage, are being ordered to wear uniforms. Traffic conductors in starched white hats are popping up all around the city, and police officers rove the streets demanding pedestrians walk only on the overcrowded sidewalks, not the street, and that they cross at designated crosswalks. Theirs is an impossible task, but they do it with determination, often sending people back across the street and ordering them to cross again, this time via the ‘proper’ route.

These changes are frivolous at worst. The real assaults, though, are being directed against those working in the “informal sector,” those whose jobs fall outside the realm of worker’s rights, minimum wages, and any sort of state-defended standard of living. Most notably, street vendors, who over the years have set up wooden-plank stalls from which they sell everything from vegetables to car batteries to running shoes, are being served eviction notices. Many areas of Accra have already been cleared of vendors, revealing the most criminal aspect of this practice: where their stalls once stood you can now make out the white lines the city once painted to designate the area as being authorised for street vending. In other words, people who built their stalls with the city’s blessing are now finding them torn down because the political tides (and some of the world’s television cameras) have, at least temporarily, shifted.

Hundreds of stalls have been shut down and thousands of people have lost what limited employment they formerly had. To make matters worse, unexplained fires have ravaged a number of Accra’s largest slums over the past few months. What caused the fires, and why they weren’t responded to quickly enough to save most of the buildings, are questions that are open for debate. There is no doubt, however, that the AMA’s refusal to let anyone rebuild in the slums in the name of ‘public safety’ is a direct assault on the city’s poorest.

And in the midst of this, average citizens find themselves more than a little torn between the wish to portray themselves and their city in the best possible light and the harsh actions that appear necessary to do so.

This temporary under-the-rug-sweeping of poverty, of course, is not unique to Ghana, or Africa, or the ‘Majority World’ in general. It is a pattern that repeats itself over and over again in some of the richest cities of the world — hopefully it is a pattern Vancouver will avoid in the lead up to the 2010 Olympics, though that seems doubtful.

Western ‘empire’

Where, then, should the blame lie for these aggressive actions against Accra’s poor? Granted, the federal government and the AMA should shoulder a good deal of it, as must the global trading systems that ensure that the city, country, and continent remain in a state of poverty. But even with the regularly sighted ‘villains’ of Africa — corruption, bad-governance, and trade abuse — hauled out for their usual tongue-lashing, a piece of the explanation for what is happening on the streets of Accra is still missing. After all, the richest cities in the world, with less poverty and (theoretically) better, more accountable governments, do virtually the same things whenever the world’s attention is drawn to them.

To me, then, there is something bigger at play here: our constant striving for something that I will refer to here as ‘empire.’ What I’m referring to is our constant individual and collective desire to fulfill a limitless potential, to ‘be all we can be.’ This concept isn’t monopolised by any one part of the political or social spectrum, but is held by everyone: as corporations seek forever-rising profits, so too homelessness advocates will settle for nothing short of the ‘eradication’ of poverty. It lies at the heart of Western capitalism, and the societies that embrace it. In these societies, the word enough all but disappears from the national vocabulary, with debates between those holding opposing views becoming endless tug-of-wars, full of violence and rhetoric, in which the notion of compromise appears laughable, at best.

Indeed, Canada and the rest of the West are so overcome with this notion of ‘empire’ that many living in the West, including, until recently, myself, have never known of an alternate mindset. When I moved to Accra in September 2006, though, I sensed something different rumbling under the surface here.

Ghana’s ‘empire’

The pace of life and work in Ghana is notably slower than in the Western world. Foreign governments and aid agencies regularly voice frustration with their difficulty in getting anything done within a meaningful timeframe. As work days move slowly, so does corporate initiative. Dan, a Ghanaian friend of mine (who works for a government agency and sells satellite dishes on the side), once told me a story about a Chinese businessman he met who said that if all his global competitors were Ghanaian, the competition would be so limited that “he would never have to work another day in his life.” This does not mean that the people are lazy, or that an enterprising spirit does not exist in Ghana; I have never seen a country with more small-scale and family-owned businesses. Instead, it means that that enterprising spirit is tempered. Once people reach a certain level of material comfort and security, they seem satisfied, preferring to devote further energies to their family and community rather than to ever-increasing profits.

Obviously, this is a gross overstatement. Many Ghanaians, including my satellite-dish-selling friend, have caught the ‘empire’ bug as much as anyone in the West. And who can blame them, when such striving yields new televisions, cars, and sprawling mansions, such as those that can be seen dotting the hills on the outskirts of Accra. Accra is filled with educated, eager young professionals, and also highly motivated, if under-educated, young people working in the informal sector as vendors, day labourers, et cetera, who are always looking for that next leg up. These people stand as Ghana’s future.

Here and now, however, these ‘empire’-minded individuals, though they dominate the political and economic spheres, do not completely control society (as they do in the West), allowing for the light of an alternative lifestyle, and an alternative state of mind, to slip through the cracks. And in that alternative, I find a great deal of hope. Western crisis

We all know that Western societies are in trouble. I could repeat all the stats about North American crime and incarceration rates, depression levels, suicides, et cetera. We’ve had it explained to us a million times over. The conclusion is that Western, capitalist societies are good for the wallet, but bad for the soul.

The material gains we have garnered through our ‘empire building’ should not be taken for granted, but should equally not lead us into complacency. Life in the West is good on many fronts, but it is achingly obvious that it can be much better if we learn lessons from those outside our societies who still understand the meaning of enough. More urgently, perhaps, it doesn’t seem a stretch to suggest that the ultimate solution for our unsustainable consumption, and the resulting rampant pollution and environmental damage, must come in the form of our embracing some concept of social and economic ‘contentment.’ The problem is we don’t have much time.

Ghana’s crisis

The local government’s campaign to clean up Accra, and its subsequent attack on the city’s poor, is a strong sign that Ghana is going the way of the West. The plan here is not to honestly celebrate both the city’s flaws and its virtues, but to apply a thick layer of concealer over its perceived blemishes. It is a quick, substantively meaningless, and costly performance motivated by that strange brew of pride and shame that lies at the core of insecurities held by all ‘empire’-minded people: pride in the successes and vibrancies of the city, but shame in all those places where the city still does not measure up to its peers.

That this is happening in Accra reveals not only that Western, ‘empire’-based ideas are dominating the city’s political discourse, but also that the conquest of an ‘empire’-based state of mind over a state of mind based on contentment is not simply being played out in the hearts and minds of the city’s inhabitants, but is physically being forced upon them in the streets. What can be the result of this, other than the further invasion of a sense of inadequacy and shame? Gha na’s street-clearing campaign should be viewed, therefore, as one small step in the long march towards the Westernisation of both the country and the spirit of its people.

A celebration

A vital caveat should be made here: the point of this report has not been to argue that any of this should not be happening. While I do oppose the street-clearing in Accra, I cannot argue against the larger process at play: the adoption of a Western ‘empire’-based economy and state of mind. I do not feel it is my place or my right to tell anyone they should not strive for, or be granted, any of the luxuries of the West. To ask another society to remain content living in a state of relative poverty, while next door they see people living in affluence, is as absurd as it is outrageous. In coming years, with its young professionals leading the way, Ghana will become as ‘empire’-minded as the rest of us, and in response only irresponsible global citizens will complain.

My only point, then, is that on that day when the last vestiges of a ‘content’ Ghana disappear, it will be a significant loss for the planet. We ‘empire builders,’ who are missing a large portion of what it means to be healthy, happy humans, will have driven to extinction the key to a potential solution. For now, however, 50 years in, there still exists in Ghana a potent alternative to our current social and economic state of mind. We have time, however fleeting, to learn from it, and in so doing so, find a middle ground between pride and shame, between skyscrapers and slums, where we can live together, sustainably. That, before anything else, seems like something worth celebrating.

Because I am too lazy to even look up a humorous title for this post in my little pocketbook of potential blog titles...

2007-02-21T15:09:00.000Z

...an account of Brian, Jay and my trip to Akosombo (during which the Mosquito Massacre occured) can be read here. Thank you, Brian, for being a more dedicated blogger than myself. Perhaps one day I will teach you how to rotate your photos.

P.S. He grossly exaggerates how competitive the bread competition was. I wiped the floor with him.

Tamale Update

2007-02-19T13:58:00.000Z

Photos from my trip to Tamale can be seen here.

The purpose of my trip was to meet with my Canadian supervisor (Francis) and do some fieldwork on the Northern Region’s response to HIV and AIDS. We (Francis, Aaron, and I) met with regional and district HIV/AIDS focal persons, Chief Executives and Coordinating Directors of District Assemblies, a Support Group for people living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHAs), a clinic with residential facilities for PLWHAs, an orphanage, and board members of a network organization comprised of HIV/AIDS NGOs. We also met with Francis’ group of rural women on whom he is conducting research. We led an informal HIV/AIDS educational session with them, answering their questions, and finding out what some of their challenges are in regards to safe sex, marital equity, and open discussions on HIV/AIDS. There is still a long way to go in terms of awareness levels, let alone, behavioural change. A statistic often quoted here in Ghana, is that the country has achieved 99% awareness level. At first, I was impressed with this figure, only to learn that awareness is operationalized as having heard of HIV/AIDS, but not necessarily what it is, how it is transmitted, treated, etc. In other words, a rather empty statistic, one that is consistently praised, and one we heard every time we interviewed a government representative in the North. A recent research study from Ghana that I summarized for my boss reported that 80% of those interviewed for the study thought that HIV positive persons should be quarantined, while only 20% recommended care and support. Respondents also expressed fears of contracting HIV through harmless exchanges such as sharing food and cutlery. The stigma around HIV/AIDS is a strong force that scares people from getting tested or seeking treatment. People are continuously learning about antiretroviral therapy and this is providing some with the necessary incentive to get tested. ARV’s are now available for around $5 USD/month, an amount that despite being heavily subsidized is still proving prohibitive for many Ghanaians. The women living at a clinic we visited reported difficulties in paying this monthly fee, an obstacle made more difficult by virtue of being disowned by their families. The stories of these women were an instructive lesson on the large gap that prevails between what is being done and what needs to be done to stop the epidemic and to care for those already impacted.

"I've seen him grow from a cat, to a lion, to a dragon, to a force"

2007-02-16T16:13:00.000Z

2 poems:

The first is from a Valentine's Day card I bought for Marta. It cost me 80 cents and was worth every penny. I'm not sure whether the card is saying that I love her or that I am stalking her, but either way, it packs a punch:

Front:

Just to let you know
MY VAL
the funny things I do
when you're not there...

Inside:

I must confess to you that
in your absence I always
think of you more
especially your flanked
and exotic steps.
Coupled with your soft
spoken voice.
Your pictures become an
invisible person.
Your old letters reveal the
need to be with you
But my pillow comforts me.

Please I need you for each day and
every hour of the day.

The second, vastly inferior, poem is one I wrote last November after an unforgettable (and unforgettably painful) bus ride to Mole National Park. It was published in High Altitude Poetry in January, at which point I posted it on my blog, but forgot to link it here. Here, belatedly, is the link:

five hours from Tamale, back of the bus

Don't Mind Your Wife Chop Bar

2007-02-13T19:29:00.003Z

The Akosombo Mosquito Massacre:

The sound is delayed. Don't know why. Closed captioning is therefore supplied for the hearing impaired and unimpaired alike (reads far more dramatically than the reality, anyway):

Brian: Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh.
Rob: C’mon, track it, track it.
B: Oh oh oh oh oh.
R: I see it!
B: Over here!
R: Where?
(Slapping noise)
R: Did you get it?
B: I don’t know…maybe.
R: Too many shadows in the room…maybe…oh oh! It dive bombed passed me.
(Extended pause, followed by slapping)
R: I heard that fucker. Did I get it? I should have got that one. I don’t think I did…
(Laughter)
R: Oh oh oh…oh oh oh…over there.
B: Oh yeah, I just saw it.
R: Where? Where?
B: Oh!
(Slapping)
B: There’s two of them!
(Slapping)
B: Oh my god!
(More slapping)
R: I got ‘em, I got ‘em.
B: Dude, there’s three of them!
R: I got one.
B: There’s three of them. I just saw two more.
R: Ok Brian, they’re panicking because of the…the…the thing. They can’t handle it. They’re going insane. I killed one. Did you see? I killed one.
B: That was good.
R: And it hadn’t bitten us yet. That’s a victory…non-bloody ones.
B: Oh!
(Slapping, then laughter)
R: You had such form.
(Crosstalk)
R: I was quite impressed with it.
B: Shit. Oh….Oh!
(Slapping)
B: Aah! I got it. Nope.
R: Yeah, yeah. What’s that?
(Screaming)
R: What?
B: It was stuck in between my fingers.
(Laughter)
B: That was weird.
(More laughter)
B: Uck. That…I definitely got that one.
R: Ok, that’s only two, though. You said you saw…
B: Oh! Here’s another one! There’s one behind your head. Oh, there’s two of them! Shit. There’s two more…
(Slapping)
R: Oh! Oh, look at that!
B: Oh, there’s still two more. There’s one by the light…
R: Do you see this fucker? I’m just going to smash him into the wall a lot…
(Slapping)
R: It’s paste. I’ve made it paste. I’ve fallen…fallen into a rage. Did you see the paste? Ok, give us some more. Gimme…
B: There’s definitely another one or two.
(Crosstalk)
R: Oh! Right over your head! Right…oh two, two right over your head! One…there, there, there, there, there, there. Track it with me.
(Slapping)
R: Nope…missed it. Did I!?
B: Oh, there’s another one.
R: I got some on my finger…
B: Or maybe you can…get that one. It’s going for the light.
R: Where? Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh.
B: Fudge. Two of them.
(Slapping)
R: Oh look at the fan…look at the fan…(gasp)
(Slapping)
R: Oh oh oh oh!
(Slapping)
R: Aaaaaaaaagh!
B: Nice. There’s another one in here…
B + R: Oh!
(Crosstalk)
R: There’s one on the roof.
B: Fuck.
R: They’re not all mosquitoes…(laughter)…they’re…they’re not all mosquitoes, some of them are like…that’s a mosquito. You see him stuck on the roof?
B: Yeah.
R: Ok, he’s on the move again.
B: There’s a chair right there.
R: Watch him…oh…it’s moving. Keep him…don’t…if there’s others, we’re going to let them get away for a minute, this one is going down. I’m going to kill you…
(Laughter)

Tata Views

2007-02-07T17:44:00.000Z

Ghana Black Stars 4 - Nigeria Super Eagles 1

First win over Nigeria in 15 years!!!

AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Abbort Refrigeration

2007-02-06T18:59:00.001Z

In my time in Ghana, I have learned a number of things. Only three of those things are relevant to this post:

1. I only write blog posts
        a) to vent frustration,
        b) for comedic effect, or, most fruitfully
        c) both

2. Because of this, my posts often portray a lopsided view of the country, with only the truly absurd slices of Ghanaian life making it onto the blog.

3. When I’m this aggravated, I don’t care!

The frustration of the week:

Upon arriving in Ghana, one of my top goals was to play a good amount of basketball, as a way to both meet new people and to keep in shape. As you may recall from one of our earliest posts, my friend Kweku found me a court to play on in Tema. The only drawbacks were that it was an hour trotro ride away from our place and that it was home to the Tema Basketball Association (read: talented, giant guys whose main challenge when facing me as a defender was avoiding accidentally crushing me). In other words, it was far from an ideal setup.

A couple of weeks later, though, Marta and I were out walking when we came across a basketball court…a mere 10 minute walk from our house! It was in pretty rough shape, but it would certainly do. Excited, I went out and bought a basketball the next day and returned to the court, only to find it padlocked. I asked a man sitting near the court what was going on, and he said they were upgrading the court, and the construction would be done in a week.

Anxious to play, I spent the day wandering around town asking in vain if anyone knew of another court. It looked like I would just have to wait.

We had already been in Ghana for a month by this point, so I wasn’t all that surprised when I returned a week later and the court was still locked up. Also, considering that the state of the “construction” had not seemed to advance at all since I was last their, I concluded it would probably take at least a month before the work would be finished.

Thus began my bi-weekly ritual of walking down to the court for a status report, basketball in hand. Every time I would talk to someone in the vicinity about the progress of the construction, and every time I would be told it would be finished at any moment. The usually response was either “this week” or “tomorrow.”

Now, I was not naïve. I knew there was a chance it still wouldn’t be completed by the time I had to fly home in March. Truthfully, though, the trips back and forth checking on the court had quickly become the best form of exercise I was getting during my week, as I began jogging the route and taking more and more elaborate detours on the way.

I had all but resigned myself to a basketball-less fate. But then, out of the blue, at the beginning of January….progress! They had re-tarred and painted the court. Could it be? Again, workers and neighbours assured me the court would open within days, but this time I almost believed them. One month later, I went by and WHAMO! the court was finished. And it was beautifully painted and restored! It almost seemed worth the wait. Strangely, though, the court was not being used for a basketball game, but a volleyball game. It was Saturday, so I supposed that some sort of court-sharing was in effect. No troubles, I thought, and planned to return during the week.

Which brings us to today. After finding someone who could re-inflate my ball (which had now been gathering dust for over four months), I returned to the court. Sure enough, it was open, but those damn volleyballers were there again! I asked one of them when they would be finished, and he said 5:30 (the court has no lights and the sun sets at 6:00). I enquired as to whether they would be there tomorrow and he said that they would be there every weekday from 1:30 – 5:30 PM. I said something along the lines of “Wow, you must be very good, then,” to which he replied, “We better be. We’re the national team.” That’s right…this whole time the basketball court was being refurbished for use as the training grounds for the Ghanaian National Volleyball Team. I tried to keep a positive attitude in regards to this setback. I told him I would just come in the morning before they arrived. “That’s when the women’s team practices,” was his reply. I HAD FOUND THE ONLY SPORTS COMPLEX IN THE COUNTRY THAT WAS IN USE FROM SUNRISE TO SUNSET EVERY WEEKDAY. And during all those visits over the past five months, no one had ever bothered to tell me this! I’m sure many people were in the dark as much as I was, but some must have known.

Oh well. I can now play basketball on Sunday afternoons (when it’s a good 38 degrees out, with no shade) and from 7:00 – 7:30 in the morning and 5:30 – 6:00 in the evening, which is something. I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if they lock the court when they aren’t using it, just to spite me. Or if they take down the basketball hoops entirely. Or if they all come over to my house and take turns punching me in the stomach. Hopefully, thought, it will take them months to actually put their plan into action…

Jesus I Know Fasion Ent.

2007-02-05T17:46:00.000Z

Ever wonder what my posts would be like if I wrote them for a church congregation composed mostly of old ladies? Well, wonder no more! Here's my "postcard" I sent to my church, Como Lake United, which was just printed in their February newsletter. It recounts our church-related Christmas activities:

Greetings from Ghana! I thought people back home might be interested in learning how the Christmas holiday season is celebrated here, so I've whipped up a little report. Be sure to double check with John Elandi and his family whether what I say is accurate or not!

My partner, Marta, and I are living in Accra, the capital of Ghana. Accra, a coastal city with a population of over two million people, lies in the predominately Christian south of the country. Christmas here remains relatively free of the commercial elements that have come to plague the Christmas season in North America and Europe, with far less flashing lights and Christmas trees and mile-long lines to buy presents. It's evident that this is slowly changing, as a few plastic Christmas tree vendors have begun popping up, among other things, but generally speaking the holiday is still, to say the least, a quieter (and warmer!) one than the version we celebrate at home. The one exception to this rule is the abundant use of fireworks on Christmas Eve and Day!

On Christmas Eve, Marta and I attended a nearby Presbyterian church. The service was almost entirely in Twi and Ga, the most widely spoken languages in Accra, but, upon seeing two white congregants in the pews, the minister was more than happy to recite his sermon three times: in Twi, Ga, and, for us, English. We were more than a little embarrassed by this, as we didn't want anyone to go to any trouble for us, but everyone seemed quite willing to accommodate the "Obrunis" (Twi for "foreigners"). The service was quite long (just under two hours), as it was really two services squished into one with every prayer and scripture reading being delivered in both Twi and Ga.

A typically generous Ghanaian man volunteered to translate what was being said for us, and helped us stumble our way through the Twi and Ga hymns. Near the end of the service, he leaned over and translated to us, "The Minister is saying that you are welcome." How nice, I thought, he is welcoming us all to gather after the service. "No, no," said our translator, "He is speaking to you. He wants you to stand up." Alright, I thought, we do this all the time at Como Lake. We'll stand up and wave and that will be that. As soon as we sat down, our translator continued, "No, no. He wants you to go up there." After a moment of disbelief, Marta and I finally acquiesced and went to the front of the church, where we were asked to explain who we were and how we had come to arrive at the church. Though a little intimidated by it all, we talked about ourselves for a bit before returning to our pew. After the service, a good half of the congregation came by us to personally say hello. I can only hope that most visitors to Como Lake feel as welcomed as we did that day.

Christmas Eve, however, was only a lead-up to the biggest holiday celebration for Ghanaian Christians: New Year's Eve. This time, Marta and I were traveling, and staying in Busua, a small town on the Western Coast of the country. The New Year's service at the town's lone church started at 9:30 PM and lasted until around 1:00 AM! Almost the entire town was in attendance, and it was clear that the New Year's Eve service was not only a religious occasion, but also a community celebration. The service featured many prayers, sermons and scripture readings, but was dominated by music. Traditional hymns were sung, children and youth performed musical solos, and a band kept the congregation jumping. At times, everyone in the church (including us) would stand up and march around the entire church singing and clapping to the beat. Once again, Marta and I were welcomed (this time, though, our welcome was the only thing said in English during the service), but we didn't have to make a speech!

In the moments before midnight, the lights were dimmed and everyone began saying, out loud, personal prayers for the New Year. The whole building buzzed with the sound of hundreds of separate whispered prayers. No "countdown" took place, but at the stroke of midnight the prayers stopped, the lights came back on, and everyone began dancing and singing again. It was an unexpected and refreshing experience, and a vastly more satisfying way to ring in the New Year than most.

A couple of weeks have passed since then, and, upon reflection, this has been a remarkably rewarding Christmas season for Marta and me. I hope that Christmas at Como Lake was equally meaningful for everyone back at home. A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!

Odumase Shower

2007-02-01T14:20:00.000Z

I am in Tamale, safe and well.
I will write about it later, but in the meantime, here is a poem I wrote during my 2 week stay in the Manya Krobo region.

Odumase Shower

I am naked within
the concrete and dust
of these barren walls

The flame of the candle hovers
above the sink
through which no water ever flows

I breathe in the freshly boiled water
simmering in the big bucket
and gaze at the green pail
that will dish out
a finite number of pours
over my sticky body

Above me,
clinging to the ceiling,
is a baby gecko
It hasn't moved since I entered
believing itself to be invisible
if frozen in motion.

Other creatures crawl the floors
and walls
moving their stick legs
to the sound of sheep bleeting
and crickets singing

The falling warmth of water
feels heavenly
though I have suffered the heat all day

I relish these few moments -
clean and pure -
before the dust
settles and grasps
to the growing moistness of my skin,
the heaviness of the world
waiting outside
the washroom door.

Still Brains At Work

2007-02-01T00:18:00.000Z

A quick update with minimal content:

Why? Because Marta has left town for a couple of weeks, the power has been out at our place for the past 36 hours, it's 38 degrees outside, I've discovered that every millimetre of my back is capable of producing gallons of sweat, and the internet cafe has a generator and air conditioning.

Yes, so, update:

Marta has arrived in Tamale. We thought it was an 11-hour bus ride, but it turns out it took her 16. I'm terribly jealous. She says the place she's staying in is nice (and I'm sure it's more comfortable than our place is now) and it sounds like her first day of work went well.

As for me, I've finally started volunteering at the WEB DuBois Centre, helping to organize a symposium of sorts for local eighth graders on themes related to the 50th Anniversary celebrations. And I just may be nearing success on the "Get together a game of Ultimate" goal I set for myself back in Vancouver. We'll see... (Really, Brian is nearing success, but I'm going to mooch a little of the credit, mainly because Brian doesn't actually know how to play Ultimate)

Well, I have to get back to the hot-box. Maybe I'll get a few hours of sleep tonight...

AHAHAHAHAHAHA!

2007-01-26T08:51:00.000Z

A quick recap of the past couple of months:

Photo highlights from the past month, as usual, can be found here

December came and Accra surprised me with how festive it became. Every other street vendor was selling tinsel, Xmas trees, decorations, and carol-singing lights. People were walking around in santa hats, putting Xmas songs as their ringtones on mobiles (embarrassingly, myself included), and making Xmas boxes with a slot for holiday dashing. Prices generally rose in the city as everyone was trying to earn extra cash for the holidays. We took the holidays to relax at home, and focus on making it a memorable first Christmas away from home. Robbie and I decided to host Xmas dinner for the crew, Aaron, Erin, Brian, and Katie, inspired by our friends, Terry and Erin, that had just returned to Chicago. We toiled nervously in the kitchen for a couple hours and came out with a very basic but edible meal followed by gifts, sparklers, and phone calls home. It was a warm and happy Christmas and certainly one we won't ever forget.

After Xmas we headed west across the coast of Ghana to stay at the some of the much praised beaches of the area. We spent three nights at Busua Beach, opting for one of the basic accommodation options, especially when compared to the exorbitant Busua Beach Resort situated nearby. Our days were spent eating banana pancakes, reading, playing frisbee on the beach, swimming, and relaxing. On New Year's Eve we went to the beach and sat by a large bonfire watching a traditional dance and drumming performance. At around 10pm, when the heat from the bonfire got to be too much, we left to see what was happening on the main street and ended up checking out the town church. The service had already started and was in full swing with exuberant singing and people snaking through the pews in dance. Following much encouragement, we joined in the celebration and stayed for the service. Approaching midnight, the lights were dimmed and everyone began praying aloud, voices rising with every passing minute, until midnight hit, the lights were turned on, and we all wished each other Happy New Year. The service continued until 1am with singing and dancing, the sleeping children growing in numbers. We left happy to bring in the New Year in such a unique way and glad to have been a part of the biggest party in town. January 8th was my first day back at work though I didn't go to the office as usual. I departed for a two week field visit to the Manya Krobo area, staying in the town of Odumase. I was tasked with working in conjunction with the Manya Krobo Queen Mother's Association and their orphan and vulnerable children programs. The deputy paramount Queen Mother, Manye Esther, took me around the region to visit schools, villages, vocational centres, and food aid distribution centres to see the different ways that orphans were benefiting from the programs as well as the large gap in funding and resources that still exists. I was impressed with the bravery and spirit of the affected children as well as the Queen Mothers who absorb up to six orphans into their care. I'm currently looking at possible funding sources for the continued support of the programs.

I've been back since last weekend, but this weekend I am off again, this time to Tamale for two weeks to visit my Canadian supervisor. Aaron and I will both go and take a look at our supervisor's research, the work of NGOs and community initiatives, and possibly give some presentations. When I come back there are only 6 weeks left in Ghana! The time is definitely passing quickly these days.

On March 6th, Independence Day, Ghana will celebrate it's 50th Anniversary with festivities and events being held across the country. The 50th celebration has already been launched and activities are ongoing and broadcast on local tv stations. Yesterday was one such event, the Inauguration of the Golden Jubilee Lecture Series. Kofi Annan, having arrived in Ghana a couple days ago, was asked by President Kufour to give the first lecture, and Kofi accepted. Despite the fact that this was an invitation only, formal dress function, somehow we managed to squeeze past the security, walk confidently into the International Conference Centre, and enjoy the evening. This was Kofi's first speaking engagement following his retirement, and I'm sure it was very special for Ghanaians that he was doing it in his home country.

OJ Easy Barbering . Com

2007-01-20T19:59:00.000Z

Things I’ve learned about Mysterious Dwarves in Ghana:

1. They are one-foot tall forest spirits with backwards feet which glow in the dark and inhabit the forests around Cape Coast, Ghana. (Source: Kakum National Forest Information Centre)

2. They live to be 1,000 years old. (Source: “Biography of Ghana Leader”, a book I bought on a trotro for 50 cents. What dwarf life expectancy has to do with the Biographies of Ghana’s Leaders is still beyond me)

3. They won the 1966 Ghanaian Premier League Championship (Source: Wikipedia)

4. Our friends, Brian and Katie, saw one while sleeping overnight in Kakum National Forest. (Source: Brian and Katie)

Hopefully more to come on the dwarf front. Will keep you posted.

P.S. In addition to dwarves, "Biography of Ghana Leader" also informed me that "Trees" and "Witch Craft" live 1,000 years.

The Confident Urge (Final Version?)

2007-01-10T12:18:00.000Z

THE COMPLETED EPIC, IN A MERE 82 STEPS!!!

How to feel at home in Ghana:

1. Realise three weeks into your stay that the border officials (who confiscated your passport for 15 minutes, asked you if your father was Ghanaian, and generally stared at you quizzically) had stamped your passport for a one month entry visa, as opposed to the normal two month visa.
2. Eleven (11) days before your visa expires, call the Immigration Department and ask to speak to the representative suggested by the Canadian High Commission.
3. Be told that he’s out of the office for a moment, and to call back in 10 minutes.
4. Call back in 10 minutes and be told that he’s now gone home.
5. Ten (10) days before your visa expires, call again and finally reach the representative.
6. Schedule to meet with him the following Tuesday, when he will be back in his office, five (5) days before your visa expires.
7. Nine (9) days before your visa expires, go to the third floor of the Presbyterian Book Service compound to get passport photos taken on a Polaroid camera from 1927.
8. Six (6) days before your visa expires, go to a bank machine and do two transactions (involving 80 bills of paper money) in order to have enough money to pay for your visa extension (about $60 US).
9. Five (5) days before your visa expires, go to the Immigration Offices and tell the receptionist you’d like to see your representative.
10. Be sent across the compound to his offices, only to be told that he has just gone out (“But if you can find him on your own, he’s wearing a brown shirt“). Then be told to return to reception.
11. Return to reception only to have them send you back to his office.
12. Be sent back to reception again.
13. Be told to wait in reception, and they’ll contact you when your representative gets in.
14. Sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes watching the Ghanaian version of American Idol.
15. Eventually get frustrated and ask the receptionist what’s going on.
16. Be told that…whoops…he’s gone home for the day (even though it’s only 1:15 and he said he’d be in until 5:00).
17. Ask if you can see another representative, and explain that you only want a visa extension.
18. Be told that you had no reason to see the representative who told you you had to see him, and that all you had to do was go next door and fill out a simple form.
19. Go next door and be told that applications are only accepted until 1:00 PM each day (note: you have been waiting next door, for a man who wasn’t there, since 12:30).
20. Practice silent mind-screaming as you walk home.
21. The next day, four (4) days before your visa expires, return to the Immigration Offices to hand over your completed forms.
22. Attempt to enter the compound using the large “car” entrance (as opposed to the small “people” entrance adjacent to it). Be scolded and forced to exit and re-enter the building, for no discernible reason.
23. Hand over your papers and watch the woman on the other side of the desk furrow her brow and shake her head.
24. Consider lunging over the plexiglass barrier and throttling her.
25. Have it explained to you that, because your extension request is for more than three months, you need to write a personal letter of request to the Director of Immigration Services explaining why you need the extension (even though, on the form you already filled out, there was a section in which you outlined this).
26. Ask if you can just handwrite the letter then and there, and finally be done with this.
27. Attempt to be surprised by the answer.
28. Ask whether, if you came back the next day with a letter, your visa would be processed in time, considering that it would then be only three (3) days before your visa expired.
29. Pretend to be reassured.
30. Be reminded on your way out about the importance of using the “people” entrance. Nod politely.
31. Go home, write the first part to what you hope will be a short blog post, and pray…
32. Three (3) days before your visa expires, return with your letter.
33. Experience the same brow furrow and urge to lunge.
34. Be told that you need a further supporting letter from your partner’s employer confirming her employment there.
35. Race across town in an attempt to get said letter and return before the immigration office closes.
36. Spend the next 3 hours negotiating between various directors at your partner’s employer, trying to get a letter that simply states that she is, in fact, working there.
37. Astonishingly, be told that such a letter can’t be provided, even though your partner herself will need an identical letter in a months time in order to extend her own visa.
38. Scramble about looking for some sort of official document outlining your partner’s employment status.
39. Finally, far after the 1 PM closing time, find some (somewhat) suitable documentation.
40. The next day, two (2) days before your visa expires, return - for the fourth (4th) straight day - with your new letters in hand.
41. Be told that this documentation most likely still isn’t adequate, but they’ll double check.
42. Stand just on the other side of the plexiglass barrier and watch as the entire immigration staff gather and discuss your case.
43. Eventually, be sent to another officer, who, after a good 10 minutes of analysis, fills out the paperwork and hands you a bill.
44. Walk triumphantly to the cashier and fork over an enormous wad of cash.
45. Be told you have to go back to the officer who processed you, and give him your documents and receipt.
46. Find that in this time, your officer has left and been replaced by a new officer.
47. Hand your documents to the new officer, who looks at them and says “he processed this for you!”
48. Feel a small part of you die inside.
49. Watch the new officer, clearly a level above your officer, walk over and berate your office for processing your visa. Become increasingly nervous as her shouts grow louder and louder until, finally, she storms out of the room in a fury.
50. Wait quietly for someone…anyone…to talk to you again.
51. Eventually have your officer, fresh from his scolding, come and process your receipt.
52. Hand him your passport and pray to a number of deities that you see it again.
53. Be told to return in two weeks to claim your passport and visa.
54. Walk…nay…run the hell out of there.
55. Just as you are leaving the compound, have a man run up behind you and tell you you have to return.
56. Feel a much larger part of you die inside.
57. Make the mistake of re-entering the compound through the “car” entrance. Be scolded yet again. Explain that you are only following the man who asked you to return. Be scolded for questioning them, and forced to exit and re-enter again.
58. Be told that you forgot to put your address on one of the letters. Fill it out and run for it again. Faster this time.
59. One (1) day after your via has expired, receive a call at 8 AM from a new, higher level, official, explaining that even though you have already paid and been given a receipt, they will not be able to process your visa unless your partner applies for her visa at the same time.
60. Explain how little sense that makes since her visa lasts a month longer than yours. Wonder why you are still relying on logic throughout these discussions.
61. Be told that both of you have to meet with this new, higher level, official in person at some point between 8 AM and 5 PM, Monday to Friday.
62. Explain how this will be difficult considering that your partner works from 9 ‘till 5, but that you may be able to come in that Thursday, three (3) days after your visa has expired, at 8 AM.
63.Two (2) days after your visa has expired, call to confirm the next day’s meeting. Be told that the new, higher level, official does not begin work until 9, even though the same man had called you at 8 AM the day before (and had specifically said he started work at 8 AM).
64. Explain that you would not be able to come in during office hours until the following Friday, eleven (11) days after your visa has expired (the day you were supposed to pick up your approved visa). Expect him to understand that you are in a predicament and propose an alternate meeting time.
65. Be told that he doesn’t care when you come. Consider not going until the day before your flight departs…
66. The following Friday, eleven (11) days after your visa has expired, arrive at immigration with your partner. Stop her just in time before she walks in through the car entrance.
67. Call your new, higher level, official and say that you are there and ready to meet with him.
68. Be told to go and process your partner’s application just like anyone else would, something you could have done at 8 AM any day during the past two weeks.
69. Ask again whether your new, higher level, official needs to meet with you, dumbfounded. Receive a confused look and be told that he’ll call you once your partner’s application has been processed.
70. Ten (10) days after processing your partner’s visa, and twenty-one (21) days after your visa has expired, receive a call from your new, higher level, official enquiring as to what your partner’s visa number is.
71. Ask him how you are supposed to know the answer, as she had handed in her passport and visa for processing ten days prior.
72. Attempt to comprehend how your new, higher level, official could not have been aware that your partner had already submitted her documents considering that HE WAS STANDING NEXT TO HER AND TALKING TO HER ABOUT IT AS SHE SUBMITTED HER APPLICATION.
73. After further questioning, explain to your new, higher level, official, that both you and your partner are from Canada and that you are both leaving the country at the same time. Wonder what the hell they thought your relationship was: did they think you walked around the plane on the flight to Accra asking, “Does anyone here want to live with me and financially support me for the next six months?”
74. Confirm the date that your partner submitted her application. Hear your new, higher level, official mutter “Oh” and tell you that he will call you back. But not today. Maybe tomorrow…
75. Ninety-eight (98) days later, and - are you keeping track at home? – one hundred and nineteen (119) days after your visa has expired, come to the conclusion that your new, higher level, official probably isn’t going to call you back.
76. Conclude that enough time has passed that you might be able to face the immigration building again, so long as your partner does all the talking.
77. Follow her courageously through the “people” entrance. Sit quietly as she approaches the desk and requests your passports. Try to avoid eye contact with the many enemies you have acquired. Hope that they might have forgotten you in the intervening three (3) months.
78. Watch the desk clerk slide your passports into your and your partner’s hands, no questions asked.
79. Clasp you passport in your bosom and run, dammit, RUN!
80. Once out of the building, review your new visa and find that it was stamped for approval on the day your partner brought her passport in for processing.
81. Realize that the “Oh” your new, higher level, official had uttered was in all likelihood in response to his coming across your approved and processed visas, after which he simply gave up on his harassment (without, of course, bothering to let you know you can pick them up). Laugh in that “it’s better than crying right now” kind of way.
82. Head off to a celebratory lunch, finally feeling fully welcomed to Ghana (just in time to leave again).

Hit + Miss Co. Ltd. Dealers in... Building Materials

2007-01-05T20:21:00.000Z

A (only somewhat atypical) day of travel:

The Plan:

7:00 AM - Wake up.
7:45 AM – Catch a trotro to the bus station.
8:00 AM – Arrive at the bus station.
8:30 AM - Leave, as scheduled, on the bus to Takoradi (4 hours away).
12:30 PM - Arrive at our destination.

The Reality:

7:00 AM – Wake up.
7:10 AM – Wake up again.
7:11–7:45 AM – Eat breakfast and pack.
7:45 AM – Leave the house.
7:55 AM – Catch a trotro to the bus station.
8:20 AM – Reach a station approximately 2/3rds of the way to the bus terminal and be told to disembark
8:23 AM – Finish shouting at the trotro driver for abandoning his route. Begrudgingly, disembark.
8:24 AM – Still a good 15 minute walk from the bus station, decide it would be a good idea to run the rest of the way.
8:33 AM – Arrive, exhausted, at the station. Learn that, as we should have predicted, the bus is running late. Sighs of relief.
9:30 AM – Still waiting…sighs of frustration.
10:01 AM – Note the moment when not one, but two busloads of passengers are waiting for a bus to Takoradi, as the 10:00 AM bus joins us in waiting for something…anything…with wheels to show up.
12:11 PM – A mere 3 hours and 41 minutes late, watch a bus arrives and load ourselves on, fending off the increasingly desperate, and still stranded, 10:00 AM passengers as we go.
12:33 PM – Following a good deal of shouting/10:00 passenger jostling, pull out of the station. Much rejoicing.
1:08 PM – After crawling through bumper-to-bumper Accra gridlock, and finally reaching the open road, watch the driver pull off to the side of the road, and hop out.
1:10 PM – See the driver return, nervously, and report that the bus has overheated and we should wait outside as another one is sent from the station. More premature disembarking.
1:13 PM – A mere three minutes into our improvised street party (read: frisbee), have the driver return to inform us that no new bus is coming to rescue us, and we have to get back in to our overheating bus and return to the station (through the half-hour of gridlock).
1:48 PM – Arrive back at the station (over 5 hours after we were to have first left). Half delusion, cheer and wave at the stunned 10:00 AM passengers, who are by this point visibly weeping.
1:50 PM – Disembark! Mill about the station with no clue when or if another bus is coming.
1:57 PM – Be informed that we are to re-board our old (overheating) bus and take it all the way to Takoradi.
2:04 PM – After a shouting/plotting session, send a band of passenger “negotiators” to the bus stations headquarters
2:04-2:10 PM – Oh so much shouting.
2:11 PM – Amazingly!!! hear the manager report that a bus has been found, and will be promptly brought to us for boarding.
2:16 PM – Upon boarding the bus (the 10:00 AM group, now weakened by the heat and demoralized, prove easier to fend off), find that its air conditioning system is not functioning. Normally this would be a triviality, but if the bus is not air conditioned then we’ve all been overcharged by 12,000 cedis ($1.50 Canadian). Straw, meet camel. Camel, straw.
2:17 PM – Begin a new plotting session (involving the bus depot manager, a tire iron, and excessive violence) amongst the passengers.
2:19 PM – To everyone’s relief (especially, unbeknownst to him, the bus depot manager’s), see the driver board the bus and turn on the “broken” air conditioner. Feel the urge to kill…falling…
2:35 PM – After being checked over extensively at the front gate of the bus depot (apparently its odd to have the same group of passengers leave twice), head back out on the road again (only 6 hours late!)
7:02 PM – Arrive in Takoradi. Pledge to hitch-hike home. Or bike. Or walk. Or live in Takoradi for the rest of our lives…

Happy Holidays!

2006-12-23T14:46:00.000Z

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Marta and Robbie!!

Sending lots of love to all of you!!!!

Double Dragon Chinese Curtain Shop

2006-12-18T17:05:00.000Z

Weekend report:

As yet another example of my brilliant foresight and planning, we learned on Friday night (after buying our non-refundable bus tickets the day before) that the BIGGEST FOOTBALL MATCH OF THE YEAR was happening a week later than we thought it was. Woo. The National Forest wasn’t going anywhere, though, so the weekend in Cape Coast still promised to not be a total wash.

AND A TOTAL WASH IT WAS NOT. After the standard 2-hour delay at the bus station, we arrived at Kakum shortly after 4 PM, only to learn that the park “closes” at 3:30. Nonetheless, a group of Guinean students were being given an after-hours tour of the famed canopy walk, and so, feigning our best French accents, we attempted to blend in. I have a feeling they picked up on our glaring whiteness, but they tolerated us nonetheless. After the tour, we returned to the Forest Headquarters where we had been assured we would be met by a guide who would take us to the campground we were to spend the night in.

Sure enough, he was there, $1 flashlight in hand. He was clearly the last employee left in the park, and didn’t seem particularly excited about that fact as he all-but audibly grumbled his way through the jungle, the two of us scampering behind him as accommodatingly as possible.

When we arrived at the campground, we found that we were going to be camping alone that night. No other campers, no guides, no bear-spray, nothing. “We’ve camped near bears and cougars plenty of times,” we convinced ourselves, “we can handle elephants and leopards.” And, despite a few freaky bird calls and animal snorts, we survived just fine, thank you. In fact, it was one of the best sleeps we’ve had in Ghana.

Our guide was to return at 5:30 AM to give us a forest tour, but he never showed, allowing us to sleep steadily from 8:00 PM until 10:00 AM the following day. Having not seen or heard from another human being for 18 hours, Marta and my assumption that our grumpy guide had failed to tell anyone that we were camping in the park was confirmed when we started walking down the trail back to the Headquarters and came upon a tour group. The group’s guide’s eyes bulged in their sockets as he stumbled out, “Where…where did you come from!?” (apparently, you aren’t allowed to walk anywhere in the park without a guide). We told him we were sleeping, and this seemed to satisfy him – which is a little odd, but also a helpful lesson: whenever you are caught out-of-bounds in a park or forest or something like that, just tell the authorities that you were sleeping.

After our hair-raising brush with the law, we slowly made our way home (one taxi, three trotros, four hours). Upon reflection: weekend without big football game = still awesome.

Phobians Never Say Die (Until the Bones are Rotting)

2006-12-14T11:27:00.000Z

Mom’s gone and life has slowed down a bit…but not for long! Monday was my birthday – thanks for all the e-mails and the 8 telephone calls I missed because I left my phone at home (genious). We went out for a dinner of tilapia (fish) and kenkey (rotten corn) with our pals (very delicious – not the friends, the meal, though the friends are quite nice, too, justt not for eating). Then, Marta and I were treated to birthday ice cream (thanks Terry and Erin!).

Marta’s birthday is on Saturday, but it looks like we won’t be in town to celebrate (the “but not for long!” part). We’re off to Cape Coast (five hours round trip on a bus – I like it so much that I’ve done it thrice) for a weekend of birthday fun! Marta gets to go on the Kakum canopy walk, and then, on Sunday, I get to take in THE BIGGEST FOOTBALL MATCH OF THE SEASON. Or, you know, a pretty good one. My boys, the Accra Sacred Hearts of Oak, will be taking on their arch-rivals, Kumasi’s Asante Kotoko. Terry (of the ice cream) and I went and loaded up on Hearts gear earlier this week, so Marta and I will be all decked out for the game. Hurrah!

So I get football and Marta gets trees (truthfully, she secretly likes football and I secretly fantasize about trees, so everybody wins). (Brackets!)

Buttless Corner

2006-12-07T15:38:00.000Z

A few hours from now, my mom should be landing back in (snowy?) Vancouver after completing the 5 city, 3 plane, 36 hour Accra-to-Vancouver marathon (or, more accurately, the “Accra-to-Lagos-to-Frankfurt-to-Montreal-to-Vancouver marathon).

Marta and I are enjoying getting a chance to rest again after a whirlwind tour of the country. Hopefully, Mom will be able to do the same soon. Here are some of the highlights of our three-week tour o’ fun:

Nov. 16th – Mom arrives at 8 PM. By 11 PM she’s ridden her first trotro, drunk her first Ghanaian beer, got in her first fight with a taxi driver, and been to her first Ghanaian Mexican-themed British sports bar. Can’t say it was the prototypical welcome, but it was certainly memorable.

Nov. 19th – While walking through Jamestown, Mom and Marta got to witness me being lifted up in the air by a drunk funeral attendee, and then jumped on by another (the latter being funny, the former being quite painful [disconnected wang]).

Nov. 20th – Watched the Grey Cup at the aforementioned Mexican-themed sports bar on a one-day tape delay. The audience: 7 Canadians and 2 Americans. 7 of the 9 were cheering for the Lions (my powers of persuasion are formidable), and we cheered much louder than the two (lame) Allouettes fans. Am I saying that we somehow swayed the results of the game, which had concluded 24-hours prior, through our overwhelming show of support for the Lions? Yes, yes I am. Without question, that and the Geroy is Mr. Lube campaign brought our boys the Cup.

Nov. 21st-23rd – Mom and I gave Marta some peace and quiet by heading to Cape Cost for a few days where we visited two slave castles, went on a rainforest canopy walk, and got pinched by a child (Mom only).

Nov. 28th–29th – After a number of days of often painful (or painfully lengthy, or – if lucky – both) travel from the very south of the country to the far north, the three of us finally arrived in Mole National Park. This meant warthogs and baboons and giant lizards and funny little monkeys and antelope and sneak-attack crocodiles and…something else…oh yeah…ENORMOUS ELEPHANTS. In conclusion: neat. Oh, and FYI, Northern Ghana during the Harmattan is freezing cold at night. Much toothly chattering.

Dec. 2nd – The one day of travel that was my big idea: go to Ejisu (a half-hour from Kumasi) and steep ourselves in the history of Yaa Asantewaa, the Queen Mother of Ejisu who, in 1900, led an Asante revolt against the British (known, creatively, as the “Yaa Asantewaa War”). Not to say Marta and Mom weren’t interested in going, but they were mostly interested because of my constant declarations re: Ejisu’s awesomeness. Well, after a bumpy half-hour trotro ride through a construction zone, and a 45 minute walk down a rural road, we finally came upon a burned and abandoned building in the place where the Yaa Asantewaa Museum was supposed to stand. Walking around in the rubble of a museum that burned down during a grass fire is fun and all, but not quite what we had in mind. But our spirits were high! Yaa Asantewaa’s family house was back in town (only a 45 minute walk away!), and there we would find all the Yaa Asantewaa info we could ever ask for! Or maybe just an old lady who would claim to be Yaa’s great-granddaughter and show us a picture of the Queen Mother, then charge us an inflated fee for seeing nothing! Yeah, it was that second thing! For all that, it actually was a pretty interesting day. Strangely enough, though, they never let me determine the day’s activities on my own again…

Dec. 6th – Back to the airport with Mom. No fight with the cab driver = dull.

In the middle of those thrilling events we also managed to do heaps of other things, including seeing a thwack of museums; attending a concert, a dance show, and a football game; walking through a Botanical Garden; and visiting a Kente cloth weaving village.

It was a great time, and very nice to see Mums. That she brought us birthday presents didn’t hurt either…

In other words, if anyone else wants to visit, come on over! Just make sure you bring us presents.

Freaky Car Wash

2006-11-30T13:45:00.000Z

Picture to follow...

We are in Tamale, waiting for a bus to take us to Techiman (read: monkeys). We are using this time to take pictures of football stadia (picture to follow) and teach my mum how to post comments on a blog. She's going to leave a comment on this post. It will be awesome.

Also, mum is here to explain to those of you who have been wondering just how to get a hold of us from Canada. As noted, Marta's phone number is 0246713211. To dial it from home, though, you need to dial 011-233-246713211. Get it? Got it? Super.

Now away with us! Monkeys await!

2006-11-23T18:16:00.000Z

A quick note to remind all you faithful readers that we will be away for 12 days and will probably not post anything while away. Hope you all have a fantastic week ahead :) I've heard from a few people that calling my phone has not been working...I'm not sure what the problem is, I assume my network is crappy, but I have had international calls come through, so I can only say keep trying, please ;)

ps - If anyone wants to upgrade me to Pro Flickr, so I have more room for photos after our travels, I won't object ;)

2006-11-21T11:02:00.000Z

This morning Mary Jane and Rob left for Cape Coast and Elmina. They will try to see both castles as well as Kakum National Park (widely known for its canopy walk) and come home in time for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. That’s right our good American friends, Terry and Erin, are hosting Thanksgiving at their place (yes, we will be having turkey!), and we get to make up for our non-eventful Canadian equivalent. I’m charged with contributing to the dinner, but it will probably be something easy like store-bought dessert and frozen vegetables. Though, even if I did know how to cook, it would be tricky as the propane that our stove runs on is out and our landlady has been insisting for the past week that there’s a shortage of it on the market and therefore has not bought us any. Also, our oven looks like it’s full of rat poo.

Yesterday Mary Jane and Rob went to Aburi Gardens while I went to work. After confirming that we would be able to watch the Grey Cup at Champs Sports Bar on 24 hour tape delay that evening, everyone was ordered (by a scarily impassioned Robbie) not to check email, news, or radio on monday. We couldn’t even give friendly smiles to obrunis we passed on the street in case they would feel compelled to discuss Canadian sports results with us. I’m surprised we even had the gall to step outside our house that day…but anyways, we arrived at Champs with no hints of the outcome (thank you all for your cooperation). There were about 10 of us that came to watch the game and in fact, we were the only ones in the bar following it, with the contingent of BC fans outweighing the 2 Montreal supporters. We cheered loudly and sang the Roar You Lions Roar song obnoxiously. Good luck created from such hardcore fans like us must transcend time, as we obviously gave the Lions the extra boost to win, even if it was 24 hours later.

On Sunday we explored Accra by going to the Kwame Nkrumah mausoleum, taking a stroll through Jamestown and up the lighthouse, and visiting the Arts Centre. Mary Jane has quickly adapted to Ghana as she is already consuming all the “bagged” products like water sachets, fan yogo, and fan ice as well as staples like grilled plantain, plantain chips, and Club. On friday we are departing for our extended trip for which I have gotten vacation time. We will be heading north to see Tamale, Mole National Park (elephants!), Buabeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary, and Kumasi among other things.

Oh, and I'm going for my first drumming lesson today! I'm excited. It's held in a barbershop. Also I received an invitation in the mail today for a reception with Michaelle Jean at Canada House! Unfortunately we will have left for our trip to the North by then so I can't schmooze with the Governor General.

We've had power outages for periods of 12 hrs+ for the past 3 days and it's starting to drive me insane. Surely everything in our fridge has gone bad now and the novelty of sleeping with no fan, if it ever existed, has worn out. I have a headlamp as a permanent fixture on my scalp, no propane to cook food, and no power to boil water. Yes, the daily realities of living in Africa can be frustrating sometimes. The power outages have been unusually frequent, as they're supposed to be *only* every 5 days. But really, we've got it pretty easy here - I can't really complain. Especially with the recent delivery of 20 boxes of Kraft dinner ;) One down, 19 to go...

2006-11-18T21:22:00.000Z

Hello!

It's been a while since I wrote. This past week I was in Akosombo on a work retreat. Basically people decided that the only way we would finish this document we're working on is if we went into hiding for 4 days. So we went to a town 2 hours away from Accra, stayed at a nice hotel right on the Volta river, ate like kings (I'd say, 'and queens', but I was the only female, and really, I ate like a king), and worked from morning till dark. Although I didn't get to do too much sightseeing, I was able to see the Volta dam and a bit of the town. Mainly though I wandered around the hotel grounds slightly bewildered and saddened by finding various birds, monkeys, and crocodiles caged up for hotel guests' viewing pleasure. I have no idea if these animals are in good care or not, the crocodiles did have quite a spacious area, but generally, I don't enjoy seeing animals in captivity. I posted a couple of photos on flickr from my stay. On the drive home we stopped by the side of the road, I opened my window and bought a huge bag of mangos from one of the several stands! Yes! They are now in season and I'm very excited, as I've started getting tired of eating papaya every day.

On thursday we welcomed Mary Jane (Rob's mom) to Ghana! It was very exciting. In her first few hours she experienced the crazy airport scene, a taxi driver trying to pull a scam, a tro-tro ride where she met some Liberian refugees, her first Ghanaian beer, and the amusement of watching me, Rob, and a bunch of our friend hosting a quiz night at Champs bar. I'm embarrassed to say that she was such a trooper that I was more tired at the end of the night than she appeared to be (she only got 1 hour of sleep on the long long journey).

Today we went into Tema to catch a football game and went out for Tilapia fish at a Ghanaian restaurant. We also spent a good half of our day in very sweaty traffic.

More updates soon!

Mobile Phone People Soccer Academy

2006-11-17T22:14:00.000Z

OK. This is important:

WE ARE WATCHING THE GREY CUP ON MONDAY ON A 24 HOUR DELAY. MR. LUBE IS GOING TO BRING IT HOME FOR US. WE WANT TO BE SURPRISED BY EACH OF HIS DASHING MANEUVERS.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? COMPLETE RADIO SILENCE. NO EMAILS, NO PHONE CALLS, NO PSYCHIC TRANSMISSIONS, UNTIL TUESDAY.

NO. IT WOULDN'T BE FUNNY. I WOULD LITERALLY END YOUR LIFE.

Thanks for your attention, and we'll be back to speak with you again soon.

Powerful Jesus Ventures Video Rental + Comm.

2006-11-11T09:53:00.002Z

BONUS EXTENDED EDITION!

My mom’s coming to visit us for 3 weeks starting next Thursday. I figured I should write her a brief overview of life in Accra to help her mentally prepare for what she’s getting herself into:

Mosquitoes: Not many. I’ve had about 4-5 bites over the first two months.

Generic Bugs: Many. Often crawling on you. Ticklish fun.

Monkeys: No.

Coconuts: Yes.

Lizards: Yes.

Fire-breathing lizards: Sadly, no.

Temperature: Hot. Very hot. But not the crazy, skin-melting hot you imagine. Just your average hot day at home except that it never, ever, ever stops.

Sleeping habits: Most people seem to go to bed around 10 PM and wake up around 6 AM, if not earlier. We know this because every noise imaginable starts emanating from our landlady’s house starting around 5:30. Noises like shouting, doors slamming, dogs barking, people hammering things, excessive sweeping of the same patch of concrete, etc. Strangely enough, we have come to adopt similar sleeping patterns, if only to fend off exhaustion/not murder that stupid woman with her own broom.

Directions: Technically most streets have names, and the occasional building even has an address. In reality, though, directions are told via landmarks, which are usually large businesses or roundabouts or street junctions or maybe a tree or, in one case, that place where those people always tie a horse. (That’s where the new U.S Embassy is, by the way. So if you want to get there, ask for the place where those people always tie the horse. Easy, no?)

Sound effects: Every emotional state can be conveyed in Ghana by modifying your tone when grunting or gasping. Also, by yelping “oh!“ a lot. This may mean something is surprising, of funny, or offensive, or, if you are lucky, all of the above.

Transportation: The main way to get around town is via modified minibuses called ‘trotros’. Each trotro has a mate, a guy who opens and closes the minibus’ door, collects the money, and shouts out the name of his destination (like a subway train, they yell their final destination - a business or a roundabout or that place those people always tie a horse - and you figure out whether that means they’ll pass where you are wanting to go). All mates, whose ages range from 14 - 60 (tho most appear to be in high school), have the same low, gravelly voices. All of the destination they shout out are utterly incomprehensible to the untrained obruni ear. Hand signals are also used to communicate stops. These too are often head-scratchers. You get the hang of it, though - usually after standing on the side of the road waving your arms desperately for a few hours.

Tema Station: One trotro destination needs to be explained in greater detail. Tema is a town 45 minutes east of Accra. Tema Station is not in Tema. It is in Accra. Trotros do go to Tema from Tema station, but most of them stay inside the city. I still haven’t quite figured out why the station is named after another town. It would be confusing, of course, for trotro mates to shout “Tema” when they are really going to a station in the middle of Accra. It would also be confusing because there are already many trotro mates shouting “Tema” who are actually going to Tema, the town 45 minutes away. Aware of this, the mates heading to Tema Station decided to come up with a different name to shout that would be less confusing for the general public. The name they chose? Accra. That’s right. They decided that it would be less confusing if they named the station after the entire city. So going to “Accra” doesn’t mean going to the city of Accra, it means going to Tema Station, which isn’t in Tema, but is actually in Accra. It’s simple, really.

“Obruni!”: If you are white, you are usually fairly aware of it. I mean, you’ve probably walked past a mirror a few times in your life. Maybe you noticed that your bangs needs a trim, or that you looked good in those new jeans you bought. You probably also noticed that your skin was rather pale and deathly. It‘s not a big deal, you were born with it. It’s one of those things you’ve come to accept as the truth.
The people of Ghana are a sensitive bunch, though, full of keen observations and an eagerness to help their fellow man. One of the best ways they show this is by letting you know that you are white, in case it has slipped your mind. They do this by shouting out “Obruni!” (foreigner) when you pass them. Children, of course, being the most sensitive and considerate demographic, are always the first to point this out. Some small children just stand before you chanting “Obruni, obruni, obruni” over and over again, with a glazed look in their eyes. The children are not alone, however, as many adults shout “Obruni!” also, sometimes merely as a sign of affection, sometimes to encourage you to buy some mud flaps. Such is the Ghanaian determination to help keep us abreast of our current melatonin levels.

Running: Don’t do it. People will point and laugh. It’s hot out, dammit.

Pointing and laughing at people who are running: It’s fun. Try it some time. Call them “Obruni” while you’re at it.

Power: In the 1960s Kwame Nkrumah created one of the largest man-made lakes in the world, Lake Volta, by constructing the Akosombo Dam on the Volta River. He did this to provide power for the growing population and economy of Ghana. Since then the population (and, at times, the economy) has continued to grow, while the number of power plants has stayed pretty much the same (read: corruption, World Bank, military coup, ineptitude, puppet regimes, corruption, CIA, military coup, IMF, corruption and…oh…one more thing…what was it…oh yeah…corruption). Anyway, Lake Volta’s reservoir is now reaching it’s minimum level as the Akosombo Dam strains to meet the nation’s growing energy demands. And we all know what you get when you mix the energy industry with massive corruption, right California? That’s right! Rolling blackouts!
They started in August of this year, and were only supposed to last a month. Instead, they are running at least until the end of November, though they will probably still be around when we leave in March. So far, they have been occurring every three days for 12 hours at a time, rotating between daytime and nigh time blackouts. In an exciting update from today’s paper, however, they will now be moving to a five day rotation with power off only during the night. Hurrah?
In other words, headlamps are not optional. In fact, if you can bring a portable diesel generator, I strongly recommend it.

Pure Water: Water can be bought in bottles for about half the rate of bottled water at home - which is quite a bit (84 bananas for 5 dollars, remember). The affordable alternative, however, is bag water. That means just what it sounds like: water in sealed bags, which are plastered with meaningless slogans like “Pure Spring Water” or “Heavenly Flavour” or whatever. “Not filled with fecal matter” would do it for me, but the sloganeers like to shoot for the moon. A 500 ML bag of water costs around 3 cents, and, while far from heavenly, tastes almost as good as the bottled stuff.

Hissing: Man, there are some things you don’t even want an explanation for. Instead of yelling “Hey you!” to get someone‘s attention, people here hiss at each other. Whereas back home there is the potential for confusion if the person you are yelling at does not speak English (or is standing next to former UN Secretary General U Thant), here there is the potential for confusion if the person you are hissing at has even a moderate fear of snakes. I swear that I’ve become so used to it that I could run into a giant, deadly snake in the forest, assume it is trying to sell me something (mud flaps?), and keep on walking. In fact, if I had to put money on the way I would die in this country, that would be it (and the mud flaps would prove to be garish and impractical).

People: Incredibly friendly. As noted above, they like to let you know that you are a foreigner even if you don’t ask them. This is how much they care. Seriously, though, Ghanaians are certainly up there as some of the friendliest people around, and are always out to help you if you are in need (if, say, you are lost trying to find that place where those people always tie the horse). Often, though, they don’t smile immediately if they do not know you yet. After a quick introduction they usually lighten right up. Not knowing this, for the first weeks I was here I thought most people despised me. Now, I am much better at differentiating the people who like me from those who genuinely despise me - a small, but determined group, mostly comprised of people I’ve schooled via my mad basketball skillz.

“Smack That”: OK, I’m writing this one in the internet café, just before I post it. There’s a 10 year old boy at a computer across from me and he keeps singing along with the song “Smack That, Smack That, Smack That”. I’m losing it a bit. Just needed to share.

As always, a note on my mad basketball skillz seems a good place to end things.

Ballin’ and shotcallinly yours ,

Rob

P.S. We just found out that our housemate, Brian, has a blog, too. Nothing nasty said about us…yet: ghanago.blogspot.com

Graceland Splashin' (Spices)

2006-11-07T09:34:00.000Z

A teaser:

Go to the pictures link on the sidebar to see photos from Aburi Gardens, Ada and Keta, the HIV/AIDS and Human Rights International Conference, and a football match.

I’ve been absent from the blog as Robbie has been doing such a good job reporting on everything. I will mention some things about the international conference though. It was an interesting experience to be part of the planning and organizing of it. Even though there was a sub-committee to compile and create the conference brochure (conference abstracts, biographies, program, etc) I was the one who ended up doing the whole thing, including writing many of the abstracts and biographies, and coming in on a Saturday to create a document that would be ready for publishing (compiling, editing, and formatting the brochure). At the conference I was the rapporteur so I had to pay close attention and take notes on all the proceedings and presentations. However, I got to relax for the opening ceremony because I was so involved in the planning of it that I knew it like the back of my hand. The keynote address was made by the Vice President of Ghana (whose speech I helped write and edit). The most entertaining part was the Liberian Dance Troupe, who are from Buduburam Refugee Camp and are sponsored by War Child Canada. They were an amazing group of youth who did an HIV/AIDS drama, drumming and dance performance. At the closing of the opening ceremony, the VP was leaving the high table and started coming in my direction followed by all his security and the media. I grew alarmed, as I didn’t want to block his path, so I leapt out of the way, only to see him continuing to advance towards me with an outstretched hand. I looked behind me to see who he was wanting to greet and how I could get out of the way, and only after looking like a total fool did I realize he was coming to shake my hand along with all the other people in the front row. So, I got to shake the VP’s hand AND look like an idiot, Aaron had a good laugh at me as he was in the second row and got to witness it all. Anyways, the conference overall was described as a disaster by some of my co-workers…mainly due to the very low numbers in attendance. It was held at the fanciest and most expensive hotel in the country, and therefore the facility and rental fees were the same as they would be in Canada, so the committee made the decision to charge people $150 USD to cover costs. This was problematic as that is a whole lot of money here, especially if you’re targeting people working in civil society or people affected/infected with HIV/AIDS. Hopefully they will be a little more strategic next time they plan this conference (they want to make it an annual event).
Right now I’m working on the programme of work for 2007. This is the document that informs all the programmatic activities and budgetary spending over the following year. Recently I started working in Access to fiddle around with the budget. So I’m getting some insight into the accounting and budgeting aspects.
In other news, Robbie’s mom, Mary Jane, is coming to visit us from November 16 – December 6. She is a brave woman as we will do a whirlwind tour of Ghana, including going up to the north where we have not yet been ;) So, if there’s anything small you were planning on mailing, this is another option. Also, if anyone would like to call us, my mobile number (when calling from Canada) is 011-233-21-246-713-211 (keep in mind the 7 hour difference).
This past weekend we went to an amazing drama/dance/musical performance at Legon University with a cast and crew of 120 people. It was so well done and a great cultural experience. I wish I had brought my camera to try to capture it. We also went to Fort Ussher and got a tour from a local who we met on the street on our way to the fort. The fort was turned into a prison and closed only recently. It had an interesting atmosphere because we were the only people there and got to take our time walking through it.
Hope all is well wherever you are :)

Hello...Business Centre Flower Pots Phone Cards Etc.

2006-10-31T13:26:00.000Z

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! My pill bottle beard is going to have to do this year…

Now, the weekly weekend report:

Friday night: Anniversary dinner at fancy hotel. Paid almost 20 bucks for a meal. Limbs went numb from the shock. Other than that, very nice (good company).

Saturday: Aburi Gardens. About 45 minutes from Accra, if you can get a trotro…which we couldn’t for around 3 hours on the way back. Waiting is fun! The gardens were nice though. Climbed the inside of a wicked hollow tree. Stood on a helicopter blade. You know, the usual botanical garden stuff.

Sunday: Went to the park (actually, the yards of a big European hotel, because public park = public dumping grounds). Still free, and the same grass and palm trees as anywhere else, just no garbage. Watched lizards run around, which we found entertaining for far longer than we should have. Then we went to the University and watched a student play which was awesome/hilarious. Best moment: when it looked like the father might be caught by his wife while trying to seduce the maid and the woman sitting behind us shouted out, with a clearly genuine panic in her voice, “I’m scared!”

P.S. I realised that in the last post it wasn’t efficient to take time talking about how efficient I was going to be, so I didn’t do it this time. Damn.

Assa Ware

2006-10-27T15:27:00.000Z

Marta, Aaron and I won 200,000 cedis (about $25) last night by coming in second place in a trivia contest at a local pub. It was sort of ridiculous, as the prize was in credit at the bar, and we’d only spent 40,000 cedis on drinks. Most people just use their prize winnings to cover the cost of their bill. Also, most groups have 6-8 people in them (often more). I sort of felt like we were hustling them. Well, not all of us, mostly Aaron with his disturbing mastery of Dracula trivia (Who the hell is Christopher Lee?).

We had a 3 point lead going into the final round, but choked in the homestretch. Marta and Aaron were moderately crushed, but I was ecstatic, as the winning team from one week has to host the next week’s quiz, which takes a surprising amount of work. And you only get an extra 100,000 cedis.

They are determined to win one week. I’m determined not to be there (or to conveniently disappear, or turn into a bat, or Christopher Lee).

Happy Yourself Tailoring Shop

2006-10-25T12:35:00.000Z

Hmm…I seem to be terribly inefficient in my posts lately. This one will demonstrate my newfound BLISTERING EFFICIENCY:

Monday was the last day of Ramadan, which here is a national holiday, so Marta had a three day weekend, which aligned conveniently with my perma-weekend. We went away (with our buddy Aaron).

Saturday:

Caught a 2.5 hr. trotro to Ada, a coastal town East of Accra, that sits on a peninsula between the Volta River and the Atlantic. Took a canoe ride down the Volta to a thin stretch of beach right where the Volta and Atlantic merge (called “Estuary Beach”, strangely enough), where we stayed the night. Very isolated, refreshing, beautiful, etc. No mosquito net + palm leaf walls = unpleasant sleep. Oh, also: Hammocks = Fun.

Sunday:

Realized Ada was a dusty whistle-stop on the best of days, let alone Sundays, when the whole country is a dusty whistle-stop. Decided to get out and caught a trotro to Keta, another hour further east (you could see Lome, the capital of Togo, in the distance). The town is rapidly disappearing via erosion (from the ocean on one side and Keta Lagoon on the other). Visited the slave castle (only half of which had already collapsed into the sea). Walked around town. Ate biscuits for lunch at the one open pub (this everything-is-closed-on-Sunday-you-foolish-and-alarmingly-pasty-white-people thing does put a cramp in our weekend excursions). Found a hotel that both had mosquito netting and had not fallen into the sea. Much rejoicing.

Monday:

Went to see the “oldest lighthouse in Ghana” in Woe, near Keta. Discovered, after an hour of walking, that the lighthouse was probably built in the 60s or something, as it sits on large metal supports (oh, and is potentially the ugliest lighthouse I‘ve ever seen). Started climbing it and realised that there wasn’t even a good view from the top, as it was fairly overcast. Then we had a guy come and tell us:

1. We needed to pay him to go up the lighthouse, and
2. The top of the lighthouse was full of bees.

We didn’t believe him on either front, but didn’t want to test the bee thing. Another man came along and cleared up that #1 was untrue. Still not sure about the bees. But, man, who lies about bees?

After spending a while on the beach watching large groups of fishermen at work, we headed back to Woe to eat in the town’s one restaurant (which had only the same two menu items - fried chicken and a local fish - available for breakfast, lunch and dinner). Blandly satiated, we hopped on a trotro home.

Ok, you must admit that was pretty efficient (other than the bee part). And the best thing? We missed a scheduled blackout at home. It’s like it never happened at all. Woo! A full day and a half ‘till the next one…

(Boyz - Boyz) Blue Cheese Rice Restaurant

2006-10-17T13:59:00.000Z

Marta is swamped this week with work for a big, important, fancy, disaster of a conference that is happening on Wednesday and Thursday. She is part of the organizing committee - though she joined late and can hardly be blamed for the impending failure - and she is also in charge of filing the conference’s final report. Why does this matter to you? Because it means I have to write the “what we did this weekend” post.

Before the weekend, however, I’ll note an important Ghanaian “first” that happened to us last week: our first drenching in a flash storm. It doesn’t rain here like it does back home. For one thing, during the entire month and a half of supposed “rainy season” that we’ve been here, it’s rained maybe five or six times (as opposed to at home, where the rainy season means two months with rain every day!). Also, instead of a light drizzle that lasts the whole day (days?), each of these sessions of rain has lasted no more than twenty minutes. What is similar about rain in Accra and Vancouver? The sheer amount of it. I tell you, when the rain gods decide to pay a visit, there’s no dismissing them by saying that the house is a mess, and asking them to come back later. And there is no point in hoping they won’t bring the whole family (the kids, the pets, the grandfather with the elaborate hearing aid). In other words, when it rains here, it rains fast and it rains hard.

Marta and I learned this the hard way when we were about half-an-hour from home, playing frisbee with a bunch of kids next to a soccer pitch (where forty or so young guys were playing soccer). I suppose they picked up on a smell in the air or a distant rumbling or something, but all of a sudden Marta and I looked around and everyone was gone. So we started walking home briskly. Then we broke into a light jog. Then we began desperately flailing our arms trying to flag down a cab. By the time we got home, we were thoroughly drenched and Marta’s poor bed sheet, which had been drying on the clothesline, was, well, no longer a practical choice for bedding that evening. Once again, the rain stopped within half an hour of starting, as though it was making fun of us.

But I digress…now, the weekend! This weekend was a strange one. Our Saturday was held up a bit because Marta had to go into work on Saturday for five hours to do some last minute work on a certain doomed project (see above), but eventually Marta, myself and our housemate (Brian) and neighbour (Aaron) headed off to a fancy hotel to go for a swim. You see, there aren’t any public pools here, and the ocean is filled with industrial toxins, rip tides, and those nasty stingrays that killed Steve Irwin (too soon?), so if you want to go for a swim you have to go to a fancy hotel and pay an outlandish fee (about 5 dollars US, which would buy you about 85 bananas. 85!!!!). Sometimes, though, when you are tired of the dirt and chaos of a large, industrial, capital city, and the thought of rolling around naked in a bed full of 85 bananas just isn’t doing it for you (as it usually does), you just need to fork out the cash for a day of relaxation.

The pool was a nice break, though I always get nervous when the “Obruni Factor” (% of a group that is white) rises much above the normal 1--2%. This pool had an O.F. of at least 50%, which was still better than other, more expensive, hotels we had scoped out, where I think there was a rule that the O.F. was never allowed to fall below 75% . So, in that sense, the O.F. at our pool made it a post-colonial paradise. But I digress, again…(see, I’m really not good at this).

The next day, we unintentionally balance out our O.F. for the weekend by doing something which, surprisingly, it appears no Obrunis do: go to a soccer match. The reason for the low O.F. is probably because Accra’s top team, the Hearts of Oak (whose motto is “Never Say Die Until the Bones are Rotten,” for you quiz masters out there), have been kicked out of there home stadium as it undergoes serious renovation in preparation for its hosting the African Cup in 2008. So, the Hearts have moved their home games from a downtown stadium with big bleachers, score clock, etc. to a field in Tema, a town 45 minutes to the East, with no bleachers, score clock, or well, anything but some grass and a large fence (to keep us from assaulting the oppositions’ keeper). But, for about a third of those in attendance, they do have little wooden benches that can be carried to wherever you’d like to sit. The rest of the fans stand behind the benches or sit on the tops of the cars (that somehow, mysteriously, have driven inside the stadium). Beyond the relocation to a far away, difficult to find, and far less attractive venue, the other major barrier to foreigner attendance is the random rescheduling of games (this one was supposed to take place a week before, then on Saturday, and then again rescheduled for Sunday). The only way we managed to get in was because of our good friend, football fan and Tema resident, Kweku, who poked around and figured out the date and time (oh yeah, they post dates on the league website, but not times…) of the game, and helped guide us to the stadium. In the end, these hindrance helped lead to an O.F. of...well…let’s pull out the calculator:

4 Obrunis / 3000 (approx.) in attendance = An O.F. of 0.13%

This averages our weekend out as:

(50% + .13%) / 2 = 25. 07% O.F. for the weekend.

Still frighteningly high. But, if we calculate it this way:

(25 swimming Obrunis + 4 soccer Obrunis) / (50 total swimmers + 3000 total soccer fans) = 0.95%.

Below the day-to-day average of 1-2%! See, it’s all in how you crunch the numbers. Ah, but again with the digressing…

The game itself was about as thrilling as a 0-0 draw could be. African soccer is much more exciting, acrobatic and free-flowing than European or North American, but still, PUT A SHOT ON NET YOU DWEEBS! The post game celebration was probably more entertaining, as the road team (from the Asanti region) partied as though they has won the thing (apparently, home-field advantage is terribly important here, and even a draw on the road is a major victory). It was neat to watch, but over the last month I have become intensely loyal to the Hearts, and cast the celebrants nasty glares to make sure they understood where my allegiance lay. Then I got scared and ran away.

Those are the big events of the weekend, I’m sure Marta will put up pictures at some point, most likely post-apocalypse and subsequent nuclear winter (see above). Also, I’m working on yet another update for the Visa saga. Here’s a sneak preview:

“60. One (1) day AFTER your visa has expired, be phoned at 8 in the morning and told that they will not process yours until they’ve processed your partner’s (which still doesn’t expire for a month), despite the fact that you’ve already been approved, paid you fee, and told which day to come and pick your passport up.”
“61. Smash your head against a wall for 45 minutes.”

So exciting!!!!

P.S. I’ve revived the Geroy is Mr. Lube campaign, and could use your continued support.

Picture Update

2006-10-10T12:33:00.000Z

This weekend we decided to explore Accra and went to the majority of “tourist” sites. Saturday morning we went to the University of Ghana (http://www.ug.edu.gh/) to check out the bookstore and library. Rob and Aaron have been itching for a good bookstore, and we finally found one. We bought a number of books including ones on Ghanaian history, Ghanaian poets, and a sociological analysis of Ghana. Afterwards, we spent a while at the University library, a very calm, quiet, and old building. Rob found one of the few issues of a literary magazine produced by U of G students with some really interesting poetry. We went to eat at a university café, with much cheaper prices than you find around where we live. Due to a shortage of tables, we were later joined by a group of young guys celebrating matriculation. One of them invited us to the anniversary of the funeral of his mother. Funerals are a huge deal here, and they are celebrated with food, drink, music, and lots of partying. You can usually tell you are passing by a funeral celebration when you see masses of people in black and red outfits. The other most common event that you can witness is a wedding. We’ve yet to attend either, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we do go to one by the end of our stay. The university was a great place to walk around; the atmosphere was friendly, laid-back, and pleasant. There were lots of fountains, green space, and benches – things you don’t really see anywhere else. We walked around for a while, exploring the large and beautiful campus. [I got tired of writing this entry at this point, so the remainder of the post will be quick!] Afterwards we went to the Kwmae Nkrumah memorial, which Robbie has written about. We also went to the Arts Centre which is a big market for various crafts, paintings, masks, etc. It was nice except for the extremely pushy vendors who literally grab your arm to try to get you to look at their items. It’s all harmless, just tiring because you can’t quietly look at anything. The next day we checked out the National Museum. I have to say that it was a disappointment as it was really random and unimpressive. We took a walk over to Jamestown where we bargained with the family living under a lighthouse for how much we would pay for the privilege of going to the top of it. We were escorted by 3 hyper children to the top (a terrifying time for Robbie because of his fear of heights) and got to see the nice view which included a glimpse into Fort Usher (now a woman’s prison).
In conclusion, a fun busy weekend. Pictures of our weekend are posted on flickr.
Cheerio!

Before Before Shopping Centre

2006-10-08T20:51:00.000Z

Planning the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park and Mausoleum:

City Planner 1: Hmmm…the latest coup leader was pro-Nkrumah. We should probably do something to honour him. You know, as opposed to tarnishing his record and removing his statues, as we’ve been doing lately.
City Planner 2: Yeah, yeah. The people will love this new coup leader for that. Great idea. But what should we do?
1: I dunno, how about we disinter his remains from where they are buried in his birth city and relocate them here in Accra.
2: Alright, but if we do that, we’ll have to make the place we bury him very grand and impressive, or else people might just get angry that we are moving his body for a third time.
1: Right. So we’ll make a big mausoleum, and all around it we’ll put beautiful fountains and expanses of park space.
2: Yes! That would do the trick!
1: Except…
2: What?
1: Except every inch of park space we make in this city quickly devolves into public shitting grounds.
2: True. That wouldn’t look too good for Kwame, or for us!
1: Maybe we can do something to keep the riff-raff out. I know! We could charge an admission.
2: An admission? To see his body?
1: No, no. The guy has been buried and dug up two times already. He’s definitely not “display material.”
2: Even worse! They don’t charge to see Lenin or Mao, and you actually get to see those guys. How could we get away with charging people to see a slab of marble?
1: Um…we could…hmm…
2: See, this will never work…
1: No, wait! A museum! We could build a museum!
2: Behind the mausoleum! Yes! We could put all sorts of fascinating artefacts from Nkrumah’s life in there. Then we could charge admission at the gate to the park, not the entrance to the museum, and we are riff-raff proof!
1: Ah, but the National Museum has already grabbed up all the fascinating Nkrumah artefacts.
2: Crap.
1: We could always blow up some old pictures of him, and put his mirror and futon from college in there.
2: Do you think people would buy that as a museum?
1: Hell, they won’t know until it’s too late…

Very true, City Planner 1, very true. The park, which we visited yesterday, was actually very nice and worth the visit, but it was rather evident that a conversation such as this took place at some point in the planning process.

A better report on our weekend to come soon from Marta, I assume.

Oh, and if you are wondering about the results of the visa hassles, that post has been REVISED AND EXTENDED. Wowza!

Weekend Pictures

2006-10-05T09:44:00.000Z

Pictures from our trip are loading as I write. It takes forever, so hopefully it will work. To look at them, go to "Our Pictures" on the side bar.

The Confident Urge

2006-10-04T19:58:00.000Z

NEW REVISED AND EXTENDED VERSION

How to feel at home in Ghana:

1. Realise three weeks into your stay that the border officials (who confiscated your passport for 15 minutes, asked you if your father was Ghanaian, and generally stared at you quizzically) had stamped your passport for a one month entry visa, as opposed to the normal two month visa.
2. Eleven (11) days before your visa expires, call the Immigration Department and ask to speak to the representative suggested by the Canadian High Commission.
3. Be told he’s out of the office for a moment, and to call back in 10 minutes.
4. Call back in 10 minutes and be told that he’s now gone home.
5. Ten (10) days before your visa expires, call again and finally reach the representative.
6. Schedule to meet with him the following Tuesday, when he will be back in his office, five (5) days before your visa expires.
7. Nine (9) days before your visa expires, go to the third floor of the Presbyterian Book Service compound to get passport photos taken on a Polaroid camera from 1927.
8. Six (6) days before your visa expires, go to a bank machine and do two transactions (involving 80 bills of paper money) in order to have enough money to pay for your visa extension (about $60 US).
9. Five (5) days before your visa expires, go to the Immigration Offices and tell the receptionist you’d like to see your representative.
10. Be sent across the compound to his offices, only to be told that he has just gone out (“But if you can find him on your own, he’s wearing a brown shirt“). Then be told to return to reception.
11. Return to reception only to have them send you back to his office.
12. Be sent back to reception again.
13. Be told to wait in reception, and they’ll contact you when your representative gets in.
14. Sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes watching the Ghanaian version of American Idol.
15. Eventually get frustrated and ask the receptionist what’s going on.
16. Be told that…whoops…he’s gone home for the day (even though it’s only 1:15 and he said he’d be in until 5:00).
17. Ask if you can see another representative, and explain that you only want a visa extension.
18. Be told that you had no reason to see the representative who told you you had to see him, and that all you had to do was go next door and fill out a simple form.
19. Go next door and be told that applications are only accepted until 1:00 PM each day (note: you have been waiting next door, for a man who wasn’t there, since 12:30).
20. Practice silent mind-screaming as you walk home.
21. The next day, four (4) days before your visa expires, return to the Immigration Offices to hand over your completed forms.
22. Attempt to enter the compound using the large “car” entrance (as opposed to the small “people” entrance adjacent to it). Be scolded and forced to exit and re-enter the building, for no discernible reason.
23. Hand over your papers and watch the woman on the other side of the desk furrow her brow and shake her head.
24. Consider lunging over the plexiglass barrier and throttling her.
25. Have it explained to you that, because your extension request is for more than three months, you need to write a personal letter of request to the Director of Immigration Services explaining why you need the extension (even though, on the form you already filled out, there was a section in which you outlined this).
26. Ask if you can just handwrite the letter then and there, and finally be done with this.
27. Attempt to be surprised by the answer.
28. Ask whether, if you came back the next day with a letter, your visa would be processed in time, considering that it would then be only three (3) days before your visa expired.
29. Pretend to be reassured.
30. Be reminded on your way out about the importance of using the “people” entrance. Nod politely.
31. Go home, write a blog post, and pray…
32. Three (3) days before your visa expires, return with your letter.
33. Experience the same brow furrow and lunging urge.
34. Be told that you need a further supporting letter from your partner’s employer confirming her employment there.
35. Race across town in an attempt to get said letter and return before the immigration office closes.
36. Spend the next 3 hours negotiating between various directors at your partner’s employer, trying to get a letter that simply states that she is, in fact, working there.
37. Astonishingly, be told that such a letter can’t be provided, even though your partner herself will need an identical letter in a months time in order to extend her own visa.
38. Scramble about looking for some sort of official document outlining your partner’s employment status.
39. Finally, far after the 1 PM closing time, find (somewhat) suitable documentation.
40. The next day, two (2) days before your visa expires, return (for the fourth straight day, if you’re keeping track at home) with your new letters in hand.
41. Be told that this documentation most likely still isn’t accurate, but they’ll double check.
42. Stand just on the other side of the plexiglass barrier and watch as the entire immigration staff gather and discuss your case.
43. Eventually, be sent to another officer, who, after a good 10 minutes of analysis, fills out the paperwork and hands you a bill.
44. Walk triumphantly to the cashier and hand over an enormous wad of cash.
45. Be told you have to go back to the officer who processed you, and give him your documents and receipt.
46. Find that in this time, your officer has left and someone else is in his place.
47. Hand your documents to the new officer, who looks at them and says “he processed this for you!”
48. Feel a small part of you die inside.
49. Watch the new officer, clearly a level above your officer, walk over and berate your office for processing your visa. Become increasingly nervous as her shouts grow louder and louder until, finally, she storms out of the room in a fury.
50. Wait quietly for someone…anyone…to talk to you again.
51. Eventually have your officer, fresh from his scolding, come and process your receipt.
52. Hand him your passport and pray to a number of deities that you see it again.
53. Be told to return in two weeks to claim your passport and visa.
54. Walk…nay…run the hell out of there.
55. Just as you are leaving the compound, have a man run up behind you and tell you you have to return.
56. Feel a much larger part of you die inside.
57. Make the mistake of re-entering the compound through the “car” entrance. Be scolded yet again. Explain that you are only following the man who asked you to return. Be scolded for questioning them, and forced to exit and re-enter again.
58. Be told that you forgot to put your address on one of the letters. Fill it out and run for it again. Faster this time.
59. Make it home, write a blog post, and pray that two weeks from now the whole wonderful affair can be put to rest once and for all….

AAAAARGGGGGHHHHHHH…

I do feel at home, though, churning away in the bowels of a bloated government bureaucracy.

P.S. The answers to the quiz are:

1. H
2. B
3. G
4. D
5. A
6. J
7. I
8. E
9. F
10. C

Final Scores:
Jim 6/10
Chan 5/10
Ben 0/10

Hurrah!

Something Chemical Shop

2006-10-02T17:02:00.000Z

We are back home from a jam-packed, enjoyable, and tiring trip to Cape Coast! We left Saturday morning to catch the STC Bus (the state owned bus which is the safest transportation option in Ghana). We were there quite early and waited for about an hour before our bus came. When it did arrive, a fevered crowd started forming at the door, and I decided that I too will be assertive so as not to waste my chance at a good seat. So I elbowed my way into the crowd and stood my ground firmly only to realize that our tickets had assigned seats and the mad rush to the door by everyone was, I guess, just out of habit?

The bus ride out was very comfortable and we got to enjoy the scenic 3 hour drive. When we arrived at the Cape Coast STC station we went to buy our return ticket for the next day (you can't buy round trip tickets) to receive news that it was all sold out. We were disappointed but decided that we could take a tro-tro home, not as comfortable, but still a fine option. From there we approached the pack of taxis, with drivers eagerly approaching us as they always do. We just wanted to get to the town centre which was quite close to the STC station but the quotes we were getting were ridiculous. So we walked to the main road so that we could more easily catch a shared taxi or tro-tro and be away from the tourist haven of the STC station.

Our first task upon arriving at the town centre was to get some cash. On Saturday morning we had tried an ATM in Accra, but it was out of service. We determined we would be fine by using one of the five ATMs in Cape Coast town centre. Well, much to our horror, all five of the ATMs were broken or not to be found. All we needed was to last through the next 24 hours as Aaron was coming to Cape Coast the next day and could bring us money. Deciding that seeing the castle would be more worthwhile than having a large dinner, we set off for Cape Coast Castle. When we arrived at the front desk, the entrance fee bulletin was yet another setback as it was $7 US for an adult, not $4 as our guidebook said. Now you might think that this is not a large difference, but when you only have about $24 for the next 24 hours…it sure adds up. A student price of $4 was also listed, but it required a valid student id, which we did not have. So, I approached the guy at the desk and with my most innocent face asked if we could have the student price despite not having id. Luckily, he was convinced and we got in for the rate we were expecting. I will describe the castle later as it is quite sobering and requires special attention.

After viewing the castle, we went to look for a hotel that our housemate Brian had stayed in the previous week. The guy at the hotel told us that they were out of double rooms and only had singles. We asked to look at the rooms, despite his several attempts to convince us that we could not fit two people into the single bed. He insisted on showing us the more expensive room first (with a supposedly slightly larger bed) and the cheaper room. Being the resourceful and frugal people that we are, we opted for the cheap room with the single bed. It was not actually that small, since in our first week moving into our place in Accra the three of us (Robbie, Aaron, and I) shared a room, with Robbie and I sharing one of the single beds. I think that the hotel bed was actually bigger than what we had been sharing. Anyways, for $3.50 for the night, it worked just fine.

After feeling secure that we had somewhere to sleep, we kept exploring the town by walking up to Fort Victoria. Just as we were reaching the top of the hill, my breath was taken away by the sudden view of the town with a beautiful sunset as the backdrop. It was so quiet and peaceful so we lingered for a while, enjoying the view. Finally, our crying stomachs forced us to keep moving in search of food. But first we wanted to find the lagoon that we had seen from the top of the hill. We found the lagoon which was located very close to the shore so we went to the beach and sat on the sand till the sun settled behind the horizon. The ocean is so beautiful and it has such a different feel from home. In a sense, it seems more untamed and lively (in fact, it does have quite dangerous undertows). After leaving the beach, we decided to go to the restaurant on top of our hotel for convenience. Although it took far too long for our food to arrive, we had a nice view from where we were seated, and we relaxed after a long and tiring day.

It was quite noisy in the morning, as is customary in Ghana it seems, and roosters, children, and music started at around 5am. But since I was so tired, Robbie convinced me to sleep in till 9:30am, which was so refreshing! My first time sleeping in while in Ghana. We started our second day with a desperate trip to the ATMs, hoping by some miracle that one would be working. And one was! With huge relief, we set out to what we had planned to do, assuming we could get money, which was to go to Elmina, a nearby town home to another famous castle. We caught a shared taxi from Cape Coast to Elmina for 90 cents and arrived 30 minutes later. I had to do another performance to get the student rate for the castle, and we went through the tour. After the castle, we climbed up to Fort St Jago, as well as walked around town to see the Posuban shrines. After this we headed back home and I went to bed at 8:30pm and fell asleep shortly thereafter. Yes, my late night routine has died in this country, I'm now an early bird, dad, you should be proud ;)

Homos with Meat

2006-09-29T11:26:00.000Z

So I'm getting too stressed about work, and my parents told me to relax, so I will try to take their advice ;) To help me relax, we're planning a little weekend getaway to Cape Coast (about 2 hrs out of Accra). There is a famous slave castle there. We'll leave Saturday morning and come home on Sunday. I'm excited :) I hope to take some nice pictures!

Last night went to a cool outdoor restaurant and had pizza ;) It was kind of tasteless, but whatever. Menu also featured the title of this post...

*hugs*

2006-09-28T17:32:00.000Z

So I went to the office of the African Commission on Health and Human Rights Promoters today to work on the upcoming conference that we’re co-presenting. I spent most of my time waiting for the conference coordinator and his secretary as they did various things. I was asked to wait at his desk, where I played solitaire on his computer for a long time…when he finally came, we exchanged some information that we could easily have done over email, in fact, it would have been much more efficient. Then I waited around some more as they had to photocopy some documents for me. I wasted about 2.5 hours on what could have taken a few minutes…welcome to Ghana. They don’t really do email here (much to my extreme frustration).
More interestingly I sat in on a task team meeting with representatives from UNAIDS, USAID, the World Bank, and the Danish Embassy today to discuss funding for our Annual Programme of Work for 2007.
Robbie has spent all day on a conference call to Ottawa for Oxfam’s Board Meeting in a small room in the internet café close to our place. I think he’s going delirious…

2006-09-27T13:44:00.000Z

I'm having my lunch right now, red rice with beans, fish, cabbage salad, and noodles. It's pretty much the same thing everyday. I pay around one dollar for it and it's served in the office. So I choose convenience and cost over yumminess...

Last night we (Robbie, Aaron, and Brian - our housemate) went to a vegeterian restaurant for dinner (there are very rare). Aaron is a vegeterian and he's been having a hard time sticking to it over here. One time when he ordered a vegetable dish at a restaurant they basically said, you do realize that this dish has no meat in it, right??? I don't think anyone had ever ordered that dish before. Anyways, we got really excited because the veg restaurant had cheap spring rolls and samosas, which of course it turned out they had run out of. So our options were narrowed down for us, with Brian reluctantly getting the wheat kebabs in pita (they had run out of tofu kebabs, dont ask me how a vegeterian restaurant runs out of tofu...) which actually came in sandwich bread, not pita. Aaron ordered a pawpaw (papaya) shake to accompany his meal which tasted like really nasty soy and he could barely drink half of it. I had a rather tasty avocado sandwich and Robbie a veggie burger. The two of us ended up paying 50,000 C for it.

Let me explain how money works here. The currency here is the cedi. There are about 8,000 cedi to one Canadian Dollar. When I exchanged $100 USD at the airport (as was suggested to me) I got two huge stacks of bills. It was all in the denomination of 5,000 to make a total of 900,000! Yes, that is a lot of bills. I always have a thick wad of cash in my purse, and I feel like a big spender because it goes so quickly, but really it's because I usually only have about 10 dollars on me!

That Rock is Jesus Drinking Water

2006-09-27T08:29:00.000Z

I answered the following questions posed by my mom, and thought I would post the answers here as well in case anyone's interested:

What's it like being a white person in Ghana?

Being white here...well, you do get noticed. People call you "obruni" which means foreigner. Sometimes people are excited to see you and they smile, say hello, etc, othertimes you don't get a very warm reception. I think being white we carry around a lot of history and its mostly not good. Walking through Osu, which is where we live and also the part of town that has a lot of expats and foreigners (also home to Koala, where you can buy Cheerios and canned soups, etc) you get called after a lot by people trying to sell you things. Sometimes its just people wanting to be friends with you, perhaps the novelty of having an obruni friend. But basically you cannot walk down the street without receiving some sort of attention. The children I find really cute, though I can see how other people may find them annoying. They're usually the ones calling out obruni. In Koforidua, where white people are less common, the children went nuts. Little naked children on the side of the road saw me and Aaron walking by and they started yelling obruni and waving madly all the way until we couldnt see them anymore. Everytime I turned around, there they were, still waving, and so excited that I turned around.

What is the work culture like?

Work is odd because where I work, my boss is very strict and she keeps everyone in line. We all work long hours (usually I arrive at 8am and leave at 5pm, plus I keep going on these workshops which require me to leave on sunday, so I only get a one day weekend). However, the work culture here is very much contrary to a typical Ghanaian one. Usually people are quite laid back, the work pace is slow, and people don't work full days necessarily. So, I am the lucky one that gets to experience this anomoly which is the closest thing to home work style as I probably could ever get here...oh well, it's also supposed to be one of the top internships in Ghana because of the high level of the organization and the fact that I'm actually kept really busy (a lot of interns don't really have any work to do and they get bored) so this way I am at least learning. I do wish though that the hours were better. Aaron and I have talked with our mentor and he will have a talk with my boss about the hours.
As for my co-workers, I often see them checking their email, playing spider solitaire, online word games, google earth etc. It's quite funny because no one tries to even hide it. Whenever I pass by anyone, I say hello, how are you? Even if I have already passed by them 10 times that day, you still ask, how are you, because it's essentially a part of the hello greeting. Also, hello is less common than good morning, good afternoon, etc. Instead of how are you, many people ask, how is it? Im slowly getting used to that one as it still feels unnatural for me to say it ;) Another common greeting is to shake hands and while releasing using both your and their middle finger to make a snapping noise. This is more often done between 2 guys, but I also do it a fair bit.

2006-09-26T08:26:00.000Z

PICTURES!!!!!!!

The anxiously awaited photos can be found here in my flickr account.

They are in an odd order, not sequential, so don't be confused.

A teaser:

Dry Mushroom with Stomach

2006-09-25T19:38:00.000Z

I'm back from Koforidua safe and sound. One of the chiefs was kind enough to ask me to be his Queen Mother. Though flattered, I had to tell him I already have a husband (no, don't worry, Robbie and I have not eloped, it's just easier to tell people that we're married while here). To this he said, "Oh, is that so? That is too bad...!" More on my trip tomorrow :D

Castro Communications, Barbaring and Popcorn

2006-09-23T11:24:00.000Z

Ok, let me clear two things up about Marta's latest post:

1. I was not terrified. I've been laughed at plenty of times in my life.
2. I did not play well. I was awful. But I suppose they expected little more from the flabby white guy.
3. I was the only person on the court with chest hair. That makes me manliest. Right?

And now, a contest for you, the dedicated blog reader (aka My Mom. Hi Mom!). Match the blog post titles so far with their origins (i.e. 1=C, 2=D, etc.). Post your guesses in the comment section. Winner gets a banana!

1. Castro Communications, Barbaring and Popcorn
2. Clap for Jesus Enterprises
3. Benign & B'ExotiQ
4. Coca Cola, Fear God
5. Never Say Die Until the Bones are Rotten
6. Donkey Surprise (with cherries)
7. I don't want to live a fufu life
8. Mr. Barfy
9. Patience Fast Food
10. 6/6 Optician

A. Soccer Team Slogan
B. Name of a hair salon
C. Name of an optician's store
D. Name of a mechanic's shop
E. Featured in a guide book
F. Name of a restaurant
G. Name of a clothing shop
H. Name of a barber shop where you can send faxes and buy popcorn (and marxist literature)
I. From a local TV Soap Opera
J. Ok, we just made this one up

NOW WIN THAT BANANA!

Clap for Jesus Enterprises

2006-09-23T11:05:00.000Z

Just a quick post about today so far.
Woke up at 5:30am to catch a tro tro to Tema, a suburb on the outskirts of Accra to meet up with a new Ghanaian friend we made. Robbie had been wanting to play some local basketball, so Kweku got us to come out to Tema to take us to a court in his neighbourhood. So, we're thinking, just a local basketball court, casual play right? Well, as we approach I see these huge Ghanaian guys with pecs too large to describe, super tall, fit, I mean, it was just crazy. And I look over at Robbie, who I think is trying not to look terrified. But we go to the court and Kweku gets Robbie on one of the teams (they alternate, play to 10 pts, winner stays on). When Robbie's team finally goes on, they're skins so he whips off his shirt with his glaringly pasty body next to all these dark, muscular, glistening ones. It was quite a sight. Robbie was one of the shortest there, but he did well, especially all things considered. But, wow, so funny...I wish I had brought my camera with me today!
Anyways, I just had to share, it's only 11am right now, so we still got a lot of day ahead of us. Might check out the National Museum, but maybe after a nap...

Benign & B'ExotiQ

2006-09-22T09:01:00.000Z

hello!

last night we endeavoured to make something very Ghanaian: fried plantains. robbie had boiled the plantains earlier in the day, and in the evening we fried them together. and you know what? it turned out really good! not the most healthy dinner...but it was exciting to make :) we didnt really use all the ingredients that are traditionally used, we made a "simplified" version.

this sunday i am off to Koforidua for another workshop with traditional leaders. Koforidua is the capital of the Eastern Region of Ghana and is about a 1-2 hour drive from Accra. I will be staying there overnight as there is another workshop there on monday that I will be attending.

even though i enjoy the comments about how adventurous we are, it's really quite an ordinary life we lead. I go to work every day, come home, have dinner, play cards or watch a DVD on the laptop (my co-worker Aaron brought a whole ton of shows, including Arrested Development! which we are going through really fast!). Robbie, though he has more freedom during the day, also does things like grocery shopping, cleaning, etc. I have to remind myself that I didnt come here to be a tourist, but rather that I came here to live a life for 6 months. It really is a totally different mindset. Right now we have so many new things to adjust to: new job, new work culture, new house, new culture, new food, and we are living together for the first time! (which has been going really well :P) Anyways, thought I'd share the more mundane side of our life, b/c I get too many comments of people being jealous ;)

oh! i just remembered a story from last night, which i guess partly goes against what i just said about everything being ordinary. last night the four of us were hanging out at our place (me, Rob, Aaron, and our housemate Brian - an American intern) when all of a sudden robbie yells, "there's a lizard in our house!". his outburst was followed by dead silence as the two guys were on their laptops and i was getting changed in our room. robbie, confused by the total disinterest, restated, "I said...there's a lizard in our house! Does nobody care??" well, eventually we cared, though lizards are everywhere. what ensued was the chase to capture the lizard - it was quite hilarious. robbie and brian were on the hunt and everytime robbie got close to catching the lizard in a plastic container, brian would yelp in fear. anyways, he finally caught it and released it outside. except then the lizard refused to leave the container and robbie had to shake it out. well, i much prefer lizards to spiders or other bugs...

*hugs*

Coca Cola, Fear God

2006-09-19T13:20:00.000Z

OK, so the past few days have been a whirlwind of activity. Some highlights:

- going to La Beach - really beautiful though it's hard to relax with all the vendors trying to get you to buy things. or in the case of robbie, trying to get you to smoke some weed together. wherever robbie goes, people think he's a druggie. but Robbie gave the guy a good scare when he told him he was in Ghana with an anti-drug coalition. I don't think I will make it a habit to swim on the beaches though...what I initially thought was seaweed, ended up being pieces of garbage bags, mmm.

*an addition:

Horses treading heavy hooves
through cool La Beach sand
I sit comfortably (at least in comparison)
on a wooden chair with blue paint flaking
and sand sticking
In front are two empty Fanta bottles
resting on a similar rusted blue wooden stand
Beyond the familiar there's a goat,
perhaps a sheep?
Children playing soccer with tattered nets,
running on the shore
with the ocean chasing at their feet
Dozens of vendors,
with offers of necklaces, DVDs,
paintings, lollipops, even puppies?
Some are young, with laughter in their eyes
even after, "No, thank you"
But the older women seem strained
from the heavy baskets of plantains
weighing on their minds
And in the distance
is the glow of breakers
jumping to touch the heavenly haze of sky.

- going to Ho's Regional House of Chiefs to meet the head Chiefs and Queen Mothers in the Volta Region. It was quite an interesting experience seeing all the leaders in their traditional dress. I had to smile when they served us lunch and I saw all these older traditional leaders drinking bottles of coke and fanta (normally they do not eat in public for fear of poisoning, but this was an exception). I got to stay in a swanky hotel - each staff got their own chalet. I enjoyed the evening by taking a long hot shower and watching tv in bed (not something I can normally do here).

- riding our first tro-tro. these are vans that act as public transportation. like a really bad version of community shuttles ;) they drive by you shouting their destination, though for us it's incredibly difficult to make out what theyre saying, so we generally have been waiting a while before we can ensure we;ve got the right tro tro. they also have hand signals that represent the route, but again, we have not mastered it yet ;)

- our new place. we were warned about the dog outside being absolutely atrocious in the night with its barking, but so far so good. only small intervals of barking and whining, this i can handle. i just hope it doesnt get much worse :P actually, what's been more intrusive is the phone ringing in the main house, apparently the landlady is very popular. robbie is on a quest to find earplugs in this city! but in general the place is good, it's the maid's house which means the small house behind the main house. the landlady is super nice and helpful, and the location is awesome.

-there's a lot more, but i can't think of it right now. hope all is well with you. thank you for the emails :)

Never Say Die Until the Bones are Rotten

2006-09-15T12:41:00.000Z

how to find housing in accra in 13 easy steps:

1. arrive knowing nothing about the housing market, only to be told that there is no housing market. no listings or postings or anything.
2. receive one offer for housing at twice the canadian rate ($1000 US a month), in a town where bottles of water are 15 cents and pineapples are 25 cents.
3. call every affordable hostel and hotel in the city.
4. learn that every affordable hostel and hotel phone number is actually the personal number of the owner of the establishment, who is confused as to who you are and why you are calling them, especially when all of their rooms are obviously full.
5. go to the canadian government and point out how they screwed you over and will never be forgiven.
6. subsequently forgive them and beg for help (the canadian way).
7. meet random people in lines and waiting rooms and ask them if they know anyone who can help you.
8. cry in a gas station.
9. go home and make popcorn and wait for the phone to ring...
10. ANSWER THE PHONE!
11. drive to a potential place in the middle of the night (and a power blackout) and explore the rooms with flashlights.
12. go back the next day and hope that the place is still available (and at the same price).
13. rub the good deal in the face of the lady who tried to rip you off in step #2.

note: this easy 13 step plan is only a draft. we will be trying out step #12 in a few hours. terribly excited about step #13. potentially more steps to come. hope not, though.

p.s. my violent hacking air conditioning-induced cold has almost passed. hurrah!

6/6 Optician

2006-09-13T20:28:00.000Z

hello! so we are on day 5 of our trip, and we've already done a lot of adjusting (a lot more still to come). today we had fried plantain, joll of rice, and other dishes whose names i dont remember. in the night there is a cacophony of really really odd noises, some of the ones we are able to identify: coconuts falling, airplanes flying SO close above our guesthouse that it feels like an airbomb (we're right by the airport), roosters that start at 1am, frogs, sweeping, mysterious pop music (mostly Shakira) super high-pitched squaking of birds, and the generator (when the power goes out every 3 days, on schedule). it's really hard to have an uninterrupted night of sleep, which i think may just be the norm. at work i've been assigned to help organize an international human rights conference held in october. there's quite a bit of work involved in this. i'm supposed to contact various human rights groups across africa to invite them. i'm also going on a day trip on monday to Ho to meet with Chiefs and Queen Mothers of the Volta Region. i'll be going with a group of staff from the office. tomorrow we are off to the canadian high commission to say hi and see if they have anything useful or fun for us. robbie has been lazy with posts, but to speak on his behalf, he has spent many hours walking around Accra, much to the amusement of local Ghanians. he's gotten lost enough that he knows his way around really well now ;) he's still struggling to find a useful map of the city. around here, people don't use street addresses. when we take a taxi home, we ask if they know the restaurant by our place, if they don't we ask for the next bigger location which is a large roundabout. the absence of addresses can make life really difficult when you're looking for something.
hope all is well at home :)

"I don't want to live a fufu life"

2006-09-11T16:17:00.000Z

So today was my first day of work. I was quite nervous. I am normally nervous any time I start a job, but this is particularly stressful as it is a new job in a new country. The first day was shorter than usual, I will normally be working 8:30am to 5pm (so long!), at least I get an hour for lunch. There is another intern who works at the same office, his name is Aaron and he is from Calgary. We did our orientation together.
Perhaps I should step back and explain what it is I'm doing anyways...I think I'm taking too much for granted. If you've already heard the details, pls skip this section. I am doing a CIDA internship with the IYIP program. These are overseas internships funded by the Canadian government to recent University graduates. CIDA funds Canadian "implementing organizations" to actually make the arrangements for these internships, and those are the organizations you apply to in order to get an internship. My implementing organization is the International Centre at the University of Calgary. My internship title is Youth and Community Support Officer and I am working on issues of orphans and vulnerable children, HIV/AIDS, and gender. Today I wrote my supervisor some talking points about what role traditional leaders can have in spreading messages about HIV/AIDS for a meeting she is having with the Queen Mother's Association. Did I have any previous knowledge of this? Well, no. But I looked it up on the internet, and boy, I sure am happy to have that as a resource!
Anyways, tomorrow we are being taken to a potential long term accommodation, as well as getting cell phones (everybody has them here). Robbie must make his own update as he was out and about today, and he has not yet come home! :)

Mr. Barfy

2006-09-10T21:23:00.000Z

first lesson:

1. staying up for 36 hours makes you go crazy.
2. don't plug your 120V surge protector into a 220V socket (flames).
3. what happened to all those "gulf war: support our troops" t-shirts the kids used to wear? they sent them here.
4. white girl = odd sight. white girl in a skirt and white tennis shoes = very odd sight. white girl in a skirt and white tennis shoes walking with a white boy in shorts and blue women's sandals (blister-related swap) = freakshow.
5. if every piece of paper money is 50 cents, you need a very large number of them to buy anything. like dinner for three people. and waiters think you are idiots when one of you has to run back to the hostel to get money. and you think you are too.
6. what will happen to those "9/11: always remember" shirts in a decade...? well, atleast someone will still be remembering.

marta does the sass, and i do the flash. sass and flash! (that one's for you, ben)

Patience Fast Food

2006-09-10T16:09:00.000Z

We have arrived in Accra, Ghana safe and sound. Our plane got in around 6pm yesterday after a long, long journey. We left home at 5:30am Vancouver time, flew to Montreal, Frankfurt, stopped at the Lagos airport (though we didn't get off the plane; we were'nt even aware of this until mid way through our travels), and then Accra where we were greeted by a couple of people that took us to our guesthouse. But before we got out of the airport, we had to pass security which went pretty smoothly for me, but the same cannot be said for Robbie. He was stopped, his passport taken away from him, and was asked whether his father was Ghanaian. It was only a minor delay, though I freaked out a little.
We are staying at the Ghana Institute of Linguistics Learning and Bible Translation Guesthouse (GILLBT for short). It is a pretty nice place with AC, a kitchen, shower, internet access (this is probably the fastest internet we will experience during our stay because it is just as fast as home; we got it for one week at $10USD), and a guard to the property. But the nice place comes at a price, $28USD per night for me and Robbie. We are going to begin our search for a place with a little bit more of an affordable price. Don't worry mom and dad, we will still get a very nice and safe place ;)
Anyways, we're off to dinner now (had an exciting lunch of burgers and fries earlier today....we'll get more adventurous soon I promise) Will post more later.
Lots of love to everyone. Thank you all for the warm goodbyes, letters, and calls :)

welcome

2006-09-08T02:13:00.000Z

there will be something on this blog soon. i promise. plane leaves tomorrow.