By popular demand, for the non-Facebook users, here are links to my web albums:
Album 1: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=153841&id=641571969&l=d48395ca70
Album 2: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=159702&id=641571969&l=8245d9d3bf
Album 3: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=159965&id=641571969&l=a01d4b96e4
It’s been awhile since I’ve posted; I’ve had a hard time thinking of things I want to write about. Today, however, I remembered something that they told us in our training in Toronto: There will be a point in your placement when things stop being crazy and totally new and start to become normal. Share these things! To someone who is not there, they are interesting. I guess this is true, only I will replace the common definition of the word ‘normal’ with ‘an acceptance that abnormal and totally strange when measured by Canadian standards’ is now the norm in your life.
And so, here is a collection of small anecdotes, of which the common theme is laughter. It seems that I bring a lot of laughter to Lawra. When I try to do things the Ghanaian way, they laugh. When I do things my way, they laugh. When I am just plain shocked about things, they laugh. When I get incredibly confused about things, they laugh.
Polys
There are many things in my mind that are being inseparably linked to the memories I’m forming of Ghana: the beep-beep of motos, the bleeting of goats, red dust, smell of charcoal fires and the omnipresence of the poly, a thin black plastic bag that more often than not, is near breaking point by the time you get home.
Last week I was out with several agric officers. It was a great day. Our district received funding to drill five automatic/pumped bore holes for irrigation/livestock purposes. The government funding covers 90% of the cost, while the beneficiary farmers are expected to cover the remaining 10%. I went around with the district officers as they delivered the good news to the farming communities that were selected (based on their current dedication to successful farming). After our first three communities, we stopped briefly in town briefly so they could pray at 1pm (a large portion of my office is Muslim), and to grab some lunch. Each lunch was packaged in a poly.
I watched as the first officer threw his bag out the truck window. Then then next officer. Then a few pure water sachets went out the window too. I wanted to say something, but I wanted to wait and see if the last one would do it. Out the bag went. I then commented that I was very disappointed in all of them for littering. Here we were driving down a beautiful rural road, and they all just threw garbage on the road. They explained to me how it was ok, that in a few months all this brush would burn and the garbage would go with it. They asked if there was not garbage on the ground in Canada. Ignoring what Toronto looked like during the garbage strike, I said not very often. In some of the bigger cities you will find garbage, but in many places in Canada, especially in rural areas you would be hard pressed to find any. And in our provincial and national parks, I think it it is even illegal to litter. They smiled at me politely. About twenty minutes later, one officer turned to me holding up his empty water sachet: “I’m going to throw this out the window, but remember, it’s ok, it will burn later.” Sigh …
A week later I was was being escorted home by two young boys. Ghanaians don’t like to see a white lady walking alone after dark, so a few always insist on walking me home. With some I insist I’ll be ok (it’s really not that far, and before 10pm my road is super busy, and I really don’t want you knowing where I live …), but I’ll usually cave if it’s children and let them walk me home. I was eating FanIce (an edible oil product/ice cream substitute) and when I finished I placed it back in its poly and rolled it up. After walking for about 30 seconds one of them asked me if I was not going to throw it away, meaning, onto the ground. I responded that no, I couldn’t. I’m from Canada, and that means I can’t throw my garbage on the ground. They asked if I was going to carry it all the way home and put it in a bin. I said yes. And then I started thinking about what happens to the garbage I put into the bin outside my house. Children go through it looking for food or treasures, the wind might blow the lid off. Most of the time the garbage ends up strewn all over the ground anyway. Maybe I am fighting a battle I will never win, but at least I’m not actively throwing the garbage onto the ground.
Yes, I am Afraid of Fowl
This story takes place on the same agric bore-hole visit as the previous story. As we visit farmers, it is common to be given gifts of appreciation or tokens of commitment. The first community we visited, as a symbol of their commitment to paying the 10% of the cost, presented the director with a chicken. So, we tie up its feet, and one of the officers holds it while we travel on to the next community. We conducted our official visit, and this time were given a large bag of ground nuts. As I was stepping back into the truck, one officer was stepping into the truck on the other side, the side where the chicken was sitting. This scares the chicken who starts squawking and flapping towards me. Being the un-animal lover I am, I gave a small squeal and jumped backwards. Unfortunately, everyone saw and I was subsequently asked “are you afraid of fowl?” There was no point in denying it, my actions clearly showed it, so I stated, “Yes, I am afraid of fowl. I prefer them dead and on my plate.” After we were all settled in and on our journey, the teasing began.
One of the officers was kind enough to point out that I am also afraid of fish. “Remember when you almost wouldn’t get on my moto because we had a load of fish?”. Well, it’s not that I’m afraid of fish, it’s just that I can’t stomach the smell of them, and I don’t enjoy sharing my moto seat with them.
Later that week, we were visiting another area in preparation for Farmer’s Day and we were given two guinea fowl. In this instance, we were 6 passengers + driver in the cab of the truck, so I was precariously perched in the middle of the front. Behind me, two guinea fowl. At one point they flapped, despite being held upside down. Knowing that all eyes would be on me, I only jumped slightly when I felt the wing against my backside, and I continued to make a conscious effort to ignore the fowl for the remainder of the journey. (Although I was continually thinking ‘What if he wakes up and bites my butt?)
Jump to Stop
The brakes on my bicycle squeak really loud if I apply them too quickly. I suppose I could probably get them fixed, but I seem to have adopted a “use it until it is dead” approach to life here in Africa. I think this is in part due the fact I just don’t know where to get some things fixed, and sometimes get tired of asking questions. Thus, instead of always announcing my arrival, I have adopted a new style of disembarking from my bicycle. If I am going slow enough, and if I am wearing pants, I have discovered that I can just slow down and then jump off to the side. When my feet hit the ground, the bike stops. One morning I was going to the provisions store to buy some more phone units, and since I was happily just wearing jeans and a t-shirt I chose to apply my “jump to stop” technique. What I didn’t realize was that I had an audience. (Well, when don’t I have an audience here?) Two girls who looked to be about my age were standing there, and broke into hysterics. The commented that the liked my style, and proceeded to re-enact it for me, laughing. I explained that hey, if I’m wearing pants, why not?!? I went into the store, made my purchase, and came out. As soon as they saw me emerge, the laughter started again. I shared this moment with them, and then proceeded onto work, laughing the whole way.
Two Legs
Agric Officer: “Good morning! How many lengths did you sleep last night?”
Elizabeth: (quickly rationalizing that lengths = hours) “Um … I’m not sure, 8 or 9 maybe.”
Agric Officer: “Are you sure?”
Elizabeth: “No, not really. I’m not really sure. I don’t usually keep track.”
Agric Officer: “I will ask again. How many lengths did you sleep?”
Elizabeth: “I honestly don’t know. What is the answer?”
Agric Officer: “It’s either two legs or four legs.”
Elizabeth: “Oh, legs, I heard lengths. But what does that mean?”
Agric Officer: “Four legs is when you have a boyfriend or a husband. Two legs is when you are alone. You said you didn’t know how many legs, what are you trying to tell me?”
Elizabeth: “Oh, two legs! Two legs! It is always two legs!”.
Agric Officer: Hysterical laughter.
He now asks me on a regular basis how many legs I slept. To which, I always reconfirm that it is just two.
1,000,000 Ghana Cedis
One Friday afternoon, not too long ago, I decided to help one of my friends harvest ground nuts. As we were chatting, I asked her where would she travel too if someone were to give her GHC 1,000,000. She responded that she wouldn’t travel anywhere, that she would stay right here in Lawra. The first thing she should do was to ensure that her four children had all their education paid for and had allowances set up so they would be taken care of. Once that was done, it was her responsibility to then make sure that the needs of her church we met. They need a building to meet in, and there are people in her congregation who could use some money.
We had spent some time talking about the differences between different countries and the areas of the world, so I really wanted to know where she would travel too. I changed the question a little: “Ok, the GHC1,000,000 took care of your children and church, and so they gave you another GHC200,000 to travel. Where would you go?”
She very emphatically stated to me again that she wouldn’t travel, asking me if there were so many people around her who’s life or salvation depended on just getting a little bit of money, or something that could be the result of her money, how could she be justified in spending money on the pleasure for only herself? I tried to press her a little bit more, but then gave up, realizing that perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here …
Greetings
A greeting is simply a short telephone conversations in which your Ghanaian friend will say hello and enquire how you are doing. When you start trying to engage them in a longer, deeper conversation, they will quickly cut you off, “I just wanted to greet you”.
They are showing they care about you by spending a few of their cell units to call you; in the beginning, I was thinking, why waste my time with a short, insignificant phone call.
After two months of still being somewhat baffled by this concept, this past weekend I decided to experiment. I went through my contact list and called several people, just to greet them. The end result? They were all very excited that I took the time to call them, and I actually ended up feeling pretty good about the evening too.
We live in a world where most communication occurs electronically: texts, email and Facebook. It somehow seems safer to not have to make that actual contact with the person, heaven forbid you might be required to have an actual conversation with them. I know that I am as guilty as any in this regards, especially if I have to ask for something.
Tonight, almost as if he knew I was going to be writing a short piece on greetings, John (not his real name) called to greet me and gave me one of the strangest greetings yet:
Me: Look at caller id. Read: John. Hmmm. Do i really want to answer this one? “Hello”
Caller: “Good evening”
Me: “How are you"?”
Caller: “Fine. It is fine. Are you sleeping?”
Me: Did I hear right? “Sorry?”
Caller: “Are you sleeping?”
Me: “No”
Caller: “Ok, fine. Tomorrow then?”
Me: “Are you …”
Caller: “Tomorrow.” Click.
I am left wonder what his “tomorrow” meant.
Possible Definition #1: “Later.“ As in “I’ll talk to you later”; tomorrow, being an ambiguous word describing any future time or date.
Possible Definition #2: I will call you tomorrow.
Possible Definition #3: I will see you tomorrow, potentially meaning he will stop by my house on his way to work to greet me (which is pretty much the same sort of conversation), which he sometimes does.
“Life is filled with experiences, it's a journey for us to explore. If we don't explore all the paths, we might regret it. If we do, someone can get hurt but we have to keep ourselves open and vulnerable to that. If we didn't get hurt in life, we wouldn't grow and learn; we wouldn't progress on to a new level, a new path, a new journey. However, if we take the path that we're unsure of and break through our comfort levels we could experience joy, ecstasy and things that we never believed possible.”
- Marion Licchiello
Who needs a gym membership when you can thresh millet by hand?
After 40 minutes of threshing I had two hands full of blisters, but was happy. The sun was setting and I knew Sam’s mother wanted to get it done before the sun went down so I insisted on helping. Plus, I love hearing her laugh and there is nothing that makes her laugh harder than watching me perform the tasks of a Ghanaian woman.
Gratitude requires awareness and effort, not only to feel it, but to express it … so often we are not grateful … Gratitude is a spirit-filled principle. It opens our minds to a universe permeated with the richness of a living god. Through it we become spiritually aware of the wonders of the smallest things, which gladdens our hearts ... when we communicate gratitude we can be filled with the spirit and connected to those around us … gratitude inspires happiness … - Bonnie D. Parkin
I have always understood that I have been richly blessed in my life, and have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this over the years as I’ve experienced various things in my life. But, as one would expect living in a developing country gives one cause to think about this a little more. I’ve tried to write such a post for some time, but have struggled to find the words to do so. I’m still not sure that I can adequately express what I feel, but now that I have reached the halfway point of my time in Ghana, I feel that I have been able to set aside some of the shock of living in a new and vastly different world and think about this a trifle more objectivity than maybe I could have in August. Coincidentally, this half way point falls in the season of Canadian Thanksgiving. And so, as is tradition around many Thanksgiving tables, I would like to express gratitude for many things.
Water: I’ve lived with just a dirty well as a water source, and I am now staying in a hotel that has run out of water. I am grateful I live in a city in Canada which has abundant clean water.
Telecom: My town has been without phone cards for a week at a time. The cell networks go down in the Upper West daily. Lawra district only ridiculously slow internet on occasion (it took me 40 minutes to send one email last week, I gave up). I am grateful for the telecommunications networks of Canada, that enable me to connect with anyone or anything whenever I want.
Food: I’ve watched children rummage through my garbage looking for food: I am grateful that I have never had to do that, or even question whether or not I would eat that day. Some days I struggle to ensure enough nutrients, and panic if I realize on the way to work I forgot to take my vitamins that morning. I am grateful that my diet in Canada naturally allows me to receive proper nutrition with minimal effort. I am grateful for fruits, vegetables and dairy products.
Education: I am grateful for the education I have received, from Kindergarten to my Master’s degree, and for all the “extras” (books, computer software, lessons, etc.) my parents gave me. I have often tried imagine what my life would be like if I was illiterate; I can not. My life is centered around the fact that I can read and write. One of the agric officers related to me a story of when he was trying to convince some of his farmers that the beautiful butterfly started out as the menacing caterpillar, but he could not do so successfully. While I can appreciate the abstractness of metamorphosis, it seems like something I always knew. There are two fabulous ladies in my office, each single-handedly raising their families. They tell me of the sacrifices they make because they want each of their children, daughters and sons, to not only be able to complete secondary school, but to go onto university.
The Beauty of the Earth: I appreciate the beauty of Canada. I purchased a small coffee table book of Canadian scenery to share with my new friends and neighbors in Ghana. I have spent much time looking through this book myself, each time with increased appreciation and awe for the diversity of our country and the unique beauty of each province. When I am feeling especially homesick, I watch an episode of a TV show set in Calgary and surrounding areas. More often than not, scenes are filmed to highlight views of the Bow River valley and the Foothills, the sun setting over the Rockies, or the vastness of Alberta plains, reminding me of what I have in my own backyard.
I am also grateful for the beauty of Africa, the vastness of the land and the hugeness of the skies. I can look up at the moon and stars, and know that they are the same moon and stars that my family and friends are looking at.
Technology: Modern conveniences such as the oven, multi-element ranges, washing machines, dish washers give us back so much time. Refrigerators, which allow us to reduce the time spent going to market and allow us to stock-up on food. Electricity, especially electricity that is consistent in it’s delivery, that enables us to work at our own pace, and not have our days regulated by the sun.
Transportation: If you’ve read my tro blog, then you know why. I love my truck, and am grateful I have always been able to afford my own transport in some shape or form.
Friends: The older I get, the more I realize the importance of having a network of strong people as friends. I’m grateful for the many people who have supported me through the last year, and continue to send encouraging (and sometimes just ridiculously funny) emails while I’m here in Ghana. I am also grateful for the many friendships I have made in Ghana, both with other expats and with Ghanaians. There are amazing people everywhere in the world, waiting to teach you something and be your friend. We just need to make the effort to find them.
Family: Of everything I could possibly miss in Ghana (and that is a lot of things), there is nothing I miss more than my siblings. Well, hot showers are up there, but because of my many siblings, I don’t always get the warmest showers anyway. They provide me with continual support, and I know that they will always do so. I am grateful that our parents encouraged us to be friends, because there are not 5 other people in the world I would rather spend more time with than them. Parents and grandparents are definitely included in this, but really, I’d be lost without my sisters and brother.
My Journey in Life: I feel like I’ve been through a strange, winding journey over the past few years. I’m sure we all feel that way. But in the end, when I step back, without it, I wouldn’t be who I am today, and progressing towards who I will be tomorrow.
Happy Thanksgiving!
The best Thanksgiving celebration I’ve ever been to! Next year we’re kicking up Canadian Thanksgiving a couple of notches!
Highlights of the two days include:
“I wish the country had fewer lawyers and more engineers.”
- Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope, page 10
It was sooooooo exciting to meet up with the other JFs. They’ve seen each other numerous times since August, but this was my first time seeing some of them again. It was awesome to be with them again.
While we were waiting for Sarah to arrive, had impromptu African drumming lessons. Jody had met an instructor at the Damongo Drumming Centre when she arrived in town and was invited to stop by later. So, we called them up and they agreed to meet the five of us for the afternoon. As always, we quickly became the center of attention, and had probably 30 kids, and many adults hanging around and laughing with us. An old lady even challenged Carissa to a dance-off!
Four out of five JFs had a birthday within a month’s time, so it was only fitting we had birthday cake, complete with chocolate frosting and strawberry filling. I think we all know how happy this made me! But just in case you weren’t …
The retreat gave us an opportunity share where we were in our community, our work and our lives. We spent time discussing our successes, challenges and goals of our placement. Claire, Jody, Carissa and Nadia are four amazing women. I don’t think we could have asked for a better combination of JFs; the five of us compliment each other very well, leading to very insightful and productive discussions. Additionally, Sarah took time to share more information about EWB strategy and organizational structure, so we could be reminded of where we fit into the picture. From this discussion, there were two ideas that really stood out for me:
I might elaborate more on these two ideas later on, but for now, I’ll let you ponder on them alone.
In Search of the Elephant
For the second day of our retreat we went to Mole National Park. We spent our safari tracking spoor, but in the end, the elephants were too elusive for us. (I will return!). However, after reading so many Wilbur Smith books growing up, I loved trekking through the African brush hunting elephants just the same. A highlight was when a stampede of warthogs came out of a dilapidated shed in the middle of the reserve and scared the bajeebers out of Carissa and Claire. I also had the pleasure of accidentally stepping on a colony of soldier ants and experiencing the true meaning of “ants in my pants”.
Above: (L) James, our safari leader. LOVED HIM! Totally out of a Wilbur Smith book. (R) Elephant footprints.
Below: (L) Elephant dung. (R) Momma and baby baboon.
Left: A Bad Monkey! They warn you to not leave bags or food around the pool and restaurant area and so I was on edge all day. We were eating lunch. I had my hands on the food, dividing it with the person I was sharing with when a monkey swoops in out of nowhere and reaches over my hand and grabs the lid to my burger, flinging the rest of the burger across the bottom across the table. He made off with the lid, and the waiter brought us extra toast. Nadia and I stared at it for a little bit, then added a new lid, cut it in two and ate it. A little later on he came back for more food; I threatened him with a fork. When I was showering off after swimming (in the pool!) a baboon came up and growled at me.
After our lazy pool afternoon (livened by the occasional monkey or baboon, of course) the 6 of us jumped in a little cab and embarked on a very bumpy and dusty three hour ride to Tamale where we were to join with the other EWB Ghana volunteers and staff for our country and sector meetings.
Last Monday (September 28) Sam called me to tell me he was coming back to Lawra that evening just for one day. My birthday! Well, he wasn’t coming back for my birthday specifically … Metro TV (or maybe TV Africa, I’m not really sure) is currently working with the Ghanaian Cultural Ministry (or whatever they are officially called) putting together a documentary showcasing artisans and cultural programs around Ghana. They would be stopping by the Xylophone Learning Centre to film some brief footage there, and Sam wanted me to be there. Unfortunately, I was scheduled to start my week of meetings and travel Tuesday morning, but, as African fate would have it, just after Sam called I received another call saying my Tuesday meeting would have to be postponed.
Thus, first thing Tuesday morning I headed over the workshop with birthday Bo Froote (in lieu of cake) and pineapple juice to start the day off right. The TV people were scheduled to arrive at 1pm, so after a short visit I headed home and to do some work while Sam got the workshop ready. At 1pm, I headed back over, only to then have the TV people call and say they weren’t going to be there until 4pm. Oh Africa…
Instead of heading home again, I stayed and we made birthday fu-fu. If Sam’s chicken had been around he wanted to kill it so we could have birthday chicken too. It’s kind of funny to hear someone say “if the chicken wanders back in the next 20 minutes we still have time to kill it so we can eat it for dinner”. At 4:30 pm we called the TV people since they had not yet arrived; they were still en route. Thus, filming was going to be delayed until Wednesday morning.
After they had taken footage of xylophone production and completed an interview with Sam, the director decided they should also interview me. I hesitated, unsure what I what to offer, but they were insistent.
A paraphrased version of my interview looks something like this:
Q: Can you tell us your name and why you are in Africa?
A: … Elizabeth Logan … Engineers Without Borders …
Q: How did you become involved with the Xylophone Centre?
A: … opportunity to learn about the community I am living in … Centre is an important cultural focal point …
Q: As an engineer, what do you think of the processes used to build the xylophones?
A: … something about organic materials and natural processes … sustainability … traditional techniques which are often undervalued in today’s fabrication processes …
Q: As an engineer (he loved this phrase), do you think there is room for mechanization to improve productivity?
A: I’m sure there is a way, but by doing so you would loose your market, especially any potential international ones. The value of these xylophones is that each one is hand crafted and unique, but still of high quality. If they were mass-produced, the cultural significance of the xylophones would decrease.
Q: What sort of market opportunities do you see in Canada?
A: Canada is a country that is based on the coming together of many nations … Canadians are interested in a broader global community … all major cities have many cultural organizations and cultural festivals …
The director loved the interview that I gave, hopefully I didn’t make too much of a fool of myself. I hope to get my hands on a copy of the final cut, or at least see be able to watch it when it airs in Ghana.
After filming was complete we travelled to Wa, where we met briefly with some of the cultural coordinators there, and then the film crew drove me to Damongo for retreat (yay for no bus!).
