So, apparently in the evening while we’re not at the office goats come inside to use the washroom. It seems as if they know which room is the washroom, but they haven’t quite yet figured out how to use the toilet.
Note: This has happened on more than one occasion!
Today Mariko and Dangana went to check-up on our dry-season vegetable farming. I usually go on these visits too, as this project was part mine as well. This week, the new National Service person was to take my seat on the back of Dangana’s moto, so I was axed from the trip. To be entirely honest though, I wasn’t heartbroken. Heading out to field at 630am is not exactly my favorite thing to be doing.
Last week when we went to visit many of the seedlings were wilting and facing imminent death. The rains have officially stopped in the north now, and it appears that the farmers were not remembering to water. We spoke with the farmers and once again explained the importance of watering early each morning, and then in the evening. Even if they were busy with their harvest, they needed to take time to tend to their nursery.
This week, everything was dead. Dry season farming project: over. At least in this community, at least for now. We invested a lot of time into supporting the farmers. We invested seeds. The farmers pooled GHC20 and purchased more seeds and started a second phase of their nursery. Now, everything is dead.
What could we have done differently? Why couldn’t they remember to water?
The farmers cleared land for the nursery, tended the seedlings, cleared land for the farm, built a wall, invested their own money, and yet they couldn’t remember to water once harvest got busy.
So frustrating. So disappointing.
Last week: seedlings starting to wilt …
Wednesday: Oh, Wa!
On Wednesday I travelled to Wa, so that I would be able to catch my very early morning bus on Thursday to Kumasi. I almost missed the bus to Wa because, well, it was almost on-time, and I was operating on Ghanaian-time! Fortunately, I rounded the corner just as it was beeping its horn for last call. This was my first time taking the MetroMass to Wa (my schedule usually puts me on a tro), and it such a great experience (i.e. breathing space and slightly less dust).
Once I arrived in Wa, I made my way to Kunateh Lodge, where I was greeted enthusiastically by the owner. It’s nice to be a regular, and to be welcomed as a friend. Next on the agenda was to connect with Allison (the Canadian VSO in Lawra), who was in Wa already for meetings, and was kind enough to pick up my bus ticket for me (for most long-hauls you need to buy the ticket at least a day in advance). While I was waiting for her, I headed to Trends Internet to download the big files I don’t dare try on my modem. Shortly after I arrived, Allison and Melanie (an Australian VSO in Wa), walked through the door of the cafe. They hadn’t yet received my message indicating that I was there, but the good Ghanaian fate that seems to be in abundance here led them right to me. The network was down (of course), so we spent time chatting together, and with the girls who work at/hang out at Trends. Turns out we’re all friends through each other. Allison and Melanie had to run to a movie, but I stuck around in hopes that the network would come back up, chatting and laughing with Hamida (my best “Wa” friend) seemed like a better alternative than aimlessly wandering the city. And, in good time service came back up, and I was able to take care of some business, finishing just as it was “Lights Out!”. Hamida asked if I was ok to walk back to my lodging in the dark, I assured her I was.
I was wrong.
Most of Wa’s intersections are traffic circles or multi-point junctions, which, even in the daylight, get the best of me. With no street lights, no stars, no moon, and no flashlight I found myself going up and down every street but the right one. I would make my way back to the District Assembly each time, where I knew the street I needed branched off from, but for some reason I just couldn’t find the right one.
I called Hamida. She couldn’t stop laughing at me, but said she’d come and meet me. While waiting for her I figured out what road I really should be walking down, and called to tell her she could turn back.
Thursday: Gluttony and Love
I knew Wa was a Muslim city, but I didn’t fully realize how dominant Islam was until I was up at 430 am, and simultaneously heard about 10 different “Calls to Prayer” in the area right around my lodge. Hearing this, I was retrospectively amazed that I’ve always slept right on through during all my other stays in Wa.
I made my way to the bus station, catching a ride with someone headed that way. (Note to self: don’t take rides from strangers in Canada).
I checked out the buses that were boarding; they were both Tamale buses. The dark bus was mine, so I found myself a nice waiting spot. While I was waiting several people came up to me to check and make sure that I wasn’t supposed to be going to Accra or Tamale, that I was really sure that the empty bus was mine, that yes, I was going to Kumasi. While I was waiting I debated whether or not I should have breakfast. There was a lady making egg-bread, and I was kind of hungry, but decided against the food since I didn’t know when the first bus stop would be, and I didn’t want to impair my sleeping ability. At this point it was about 530am.
Once on the bus, I realize I was fortunate enough to be sitting next to a very nice lady and a cute little baby. She was incredibly well behaved, and spent most of the ride just staring at me, or playing with the handles of my purse.
The further south we headed, the more amazed I was at the differences in the landscape. Green! Lush! Palms! Ferns! Green! I am not exaggerating to say that I was filled with complete joy and happiness just by watching the countryside change. It was a form of beauty I have not seen since my arrival in August.
As we drove into Kumasi I was awed by what I was seeing. Home building centres (Ghanaian equivalents of Rona or Home Depot), engineering firms, tall buildings, houses and houses and houses, people, cars (and nice ones too!) …
Do I believe in love at first sight? I do now. I LOVE Kumasi. I was filled with a sense of excitement and happiness, that well, I can’t explain. I love, love, love, love, love Kumasi. I understand that part of this love comes simply from the fact that this is the first city that I’ve stepped foot in since August (I was only in Accra for 12 hours, most of which was spent sleeping, and Tamale doesn’t really do anything for me). But I am convinced that part of it was really just that I love Kumasi. Through my eyes, Kumasi is a hybrid of Maadi, Egypt and Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, that is situated in a rain forest type environment.
I got off the bus and realized I had no idea where I was supposed to go. No messages from Carissa. There were two members from the UWR MoFA Regional Office on the bus as well, and they were hesitant to leave with no plan. I decided to just make a plan: Chose a direction, start walking. Africa has definitely changed my concept of “planning”.
Carissa eventually called me and confirmed where we were staying (she had sent a text, but in Upper West style, I never got it). So, I jumped in a taxi, and headed to the Guestline Lodge. I was able to secure us two rooms, and headed upstairs for a shower and some post-bus relaxation.
My stomach eventually realized it had eaten very little, so I decided to venture out some food. I wound up at a supermarket, where I proceeded to purchase anything but a nutritious lunch. Chocolate cookies, KoolAid, shortbread …
I am NOT exaggerating when I say that the first bite of all-butter, Scottish shortbread almost brought tears to my eyes. I don’t think eating a cookie has ever been such a full-bodied experience for me. (Note: this same experience was had by both Nadia and Claire when they tried the shortbread a few hours later.)
It was at this point I discovered that the family living next door to the hotel had unsecured wireless internet, which, ironically enough, was faster than the broadband in Wa. Go Figure.
Claire and Nadia arrived. I was ecstatic to see them. We headed out for dinner, Carissa, who had come to Kumasi a day earlier to do some work at KNUST, joined us. We had an awesome dinner and an awesome catch-up.
Friday: Kuapa Kokoo - Fair Trade Cocoa
Friday’s agenda was the true purpose for our visit. Claire decided she wanted to put together a little documentary on fair trade, and arranged a visit for us with Kuapa Kokoo, Ghana’s only Fair Trade Cocoa company, based in Kumasi. In 1995, the Ghana Cocoa board underwent liberalization, opening up the market, allowing for the formation of additional cocoa companies, one of which was Kuapa Kokoo, which decided to target the market through fair trade channels.
On the way to Kumasi Claire called the man at Kuapa who she had been communicating with, only to learn that he was called out of town last minute. She was given the name of another individual, who we weren’t able to touch base with. Thus, Friday morning we headed to the office, fingers crossed.
When we arrived, the staff who were in that day knew of our visit, but not the purpose of it. At first it seemed like we weren’t going to be able to go visit the village, but the staff were amazingly cooperative and supportive. While they were figuring out what to do with us, one lady, Regina, gave us a detailed presentation on the structure of Kuapa and how they fit into the cocoa market. Meanwhile, the staff found us a truck, a driver, and a volunteer guide, so off we went.
On our way to the village we stopped at a loading station, where a flat-bed was being loaded with 600 bags of cocoa headed for Tema, Ghana’s port city. Each bag is inspected, weighed, and re-weighed, and then sealed with the official Ghana Cocoa seal. The drive out was amazing. So beautiful. So green. So pristine.
After our interviews, Juliet and Richard (sister and brother) took us through their farm. The main focus was on cocoa farming, but interspersed throughout were plantains, oranges, cassava and palm. The tallness of the plantain trees provided shade for cocoa seedlings, while the combination provided diversification: additional food and cash crops and improved soil fertility. As their smiles show, they were amazingly sweet, generous and kind people, who appreciated the fact that we were continually amazed by the fact we were standing in a cocoa plantation. It was pretty neat to be standing next to a cocoa tree, to taste the fruit (which tastes like a super fruity Jolly Rancher), to taste the dried seed (in which you can taste the beginnings of super dark chocolate), and then to fantasize about what chocolate would taste like.
We asked the farmers if they had ever tasted chocolate. They had. Once. The wanted us to send some to them. To them, cocoa is just a crop. They don’t know the multi-million-gazillion dollar market chocolate is. If they fully understood, maybe they would want more than just the little added bonus they get due to fair trade. I don’t know.
There’s a lot more to the co-op and to fair trade, but I’ll just let you wait for Claire to assemble her video. I was paying attention, but not enough to accurately capture it all here. I’ll let you wait for Claire’s video for that. However, I will comment that, to me, the existence of fair trade premiums, the need to essentially give a financial handout to farmers so that they can ‘survive’, indicates that there is something askew in the way global commodities markets operate. There seems to be a huge imbalance between the commodities and consumer markets, and while I’m not an economist, this is something I need to think about further.
Anyway …
After we passed back to the office, and said our thanks that paralleled an elephant in size, we returned tired and happy to our hotel. The day was closed with a healthy dose of internet and pizza. How perfect.
Saturday: Shopaholic in Ghana
Saturday morning we were lazy. We slept in. We did nothing. We enjoyed it.
A marching, brass band passed down the street. Whoa! Where am I? There was a real garbage truck out side. Really? Wow. Evidence of being in a city!
I know that I have openly confessed my dislike of markets, yet for some reason I was very excited to go shopping. I came to Kumasi with the intent of going shopping (well, and to see cocoa). I had one goal: pre-fabricated, very cute dress.
As we headed to the market I continued to be wowed and in love with Kumasi. Seriously, don’t know what it is about the city. It was almost the same way I felt when I was in Paris last year, and yet they are so different.
I came away with: a hefty supply of necklaces, two dresses and 11 yards of fabric. I could have, would have kept buying fabric, but I told Claire to cut me off. She did a good job of enforcing the policy. Little does she know I’m planning to buy more at Lawra Market this week and/or head to Wa on the weekend.
Overall, the market was insanely busy, crowded and just plain crazy. If I wasn’t there for a purpose, I would have probably assumed my usual market freak-out, but fashion and textiles soothed me. In 1995 a good portion of the market was destroyed by fire. I hope that this happened when it was closed, because if fire broke out during the day, I don’t even want to imagine what the stampede would have been like/how many people died/were trampled.
After market we went back to the hotel to continue being lazy. We eventually went out to dinner, followed by more laziness that night. Nice!
Sunday: Church and Christmas Music
I’ve attended church in Lawra a couple of times, but nothing is ever quite as sweet as attending your own church. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which is in Ghana, but only in the south (for now). Consequently, I haven’t attended one of “my own” services since July. I was seriously excited for this opportunity to attend! Funny, because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this much excited for church in my entire life.
Since the other girls had to head back to Tamale/Bolga Sunday morning, a friend kindly came up from Accra came up to keep me company/safe in the big city. So, we said goodbye to Nadia, Carissa and Claire, and headed to church. We didn’t want to be late, so instead we ended up really early. We sat outside the building for awhile listening to the prelude music (playing automatically from the keyboard), then went for a short walk around the area. Beautiful area!
The meetings were in a combination of Twi and English. So, I understood some parts, others I understood by intuition, and others, well, no clue. As it turns out, one member of the ward actually attended University of Toronto, while a good friend of the missionary from Las Vegas is currently serving a mission in Calgary. It is a small world indeed!
I needed to collect some materials from the missionaries, so it meant we had to stick around for the baptism after church too. Three people were getting baptized. I did feel kind of bad for adding another 45 minutes onto the church experience for my friend. But hey, he got to experience something new.
When I was taking the photo of the two missionaries below, the third missionary (there are a total of 6 based in this ward) I was walking with laughed. I explained to him the universal appeal / comfort of this picture to me. It is true. One of my American (non-Mormon) friends from Arizona has commented to me that even to him there is a sense of “home” in seeing the Elders walking around Ghana.
After church we headed back to our area of town, in a mad search for food. In Ghana, most things are closed on Sunday. Fortunately we found a fast food stall (don’t think North American fast food, think rice, pasta, sauces) and greedily ate our first meal of the day (still not quite sure why we didn’t take breakfast on the way to church). After a short rest we decided to wander the city. We didn’t have a plan, but it was kind of fun to just walk, randomly choose left or right at each junction. (Hmm, seems to be a common approach to my travels these days).
At one point a group of small boys ran up to us for a snap. These boys spied us from across a 4-lane divided road, and raced over, jumping the median barricade, just get a picture.
As the sun set we neared the Kejetia Market area. I wasn’t sure what to expect as it was a Sunday evening. I was thinking it would be empty. Nope. Just as busy as on Saturday afternoon! The streets were lined with sellers operating by candlelight. On more than one occasion we passed by a music seller playing reggae Christmas music; awesome!
Once we were safely out of the market area, my friend informed me that he thought there was a guy who had been tracing us, which is why he led us on a winding path and we crossed the street multiple times. The market, particularly at night, is known for thieves and pickpockets. We had made sure our small money, camera and phones were carefully stowed away in front pockets. (Don’t worry, if I was alone, I wouldn’t have ventured out at night, especially not to Kejetia). I’m glad he had noticed this, because I hadn’t.
Monday: Back to the North I Go
5 am alarm. Sigh.
Taxi to Metromass Station.
Wait for 2nd bus. First bus already left. Sigh.
650 am. Get on bus. Sigh.
Leave city. Sigh.
Watch the green fade into brown and bush fires. Sigh. Cough. Achoo.
Switch buses in Wa.
More bush fires. Achoo.
410 pm. Walk into my home. (Good) Sigh.
Missing Kumasi, but it’s always nice to be home again (and to take that post-travel shower).
Tuesday: No Place Like Home
800 am: Alarm goes off (a little sleep-in to recover from my travels)
815 am: Lights go out
900 am: Cell network goes down.
Yup, I’m back in the Upper West.
Note: For more photos from this weekend, please see the previous post “Photos from Kumasi”
Link to album from my weekend in Kumasi (aka The Garden City of Ghana/West Africa, that completely stole my heart) … a more detailed post to follow at some point, although not quite sure when…
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=172521&id=641571969&l=923cdd6c9d
It’s hard to believe I only have two more weeks left in Lawra, and SO much to do! Reports (procrastination is BAD!), shopping, packing, goodbyes …
Slowly but surely, I’m winning the battle for posting photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=172164&id=641571969&l=19f5394038
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=171959&id=641571969&l=8a6bfd5959
“Are you having <a product?> – Example usage: “Are you having coco?” said to a lady with a giant pot at the side of the street, meaning, “Are you selling coco (porridge)?”
“How?” – “How are you?” I guess in a hot climate it takes too much energy to finish the sentence.
“How is it?” – How are you?/How’s life? (The correct answer, of course, is “Fine.”)
“Garden” – Example usage: “Do you have a garden?” “How is your garden”. Not getting it? Don’t worry, neither did I at first. A metaphorical garden in Ghana is your collection of boyfriends or girlfriends on the side, outside of your primary relationship.
“How were you handled last night?” – Yeah, just let your mind wander where ever it wants to, that’s exactly what they’re asking you.
“Axe”, used as a verb – to become angry with and discarded as a friend. Example usage: Someone said to me, “I thought you axed me” after I failed to reply to a text message that may have been misinterpreted.
“No, please” – No, thank you. Note: If someone asks you if you want something and you just say please, they will look at you blankly. Because of the usage of “no, please”, you must distinctly say “yes, please” if you want it.
How many posts about birds can write in a week?
Saturday morning there was a knock at my door and I was told to bring my camera. I came outside and my neighbor is proudly holding a guinea fowl. He had been given the fowl by a friend and informed me that I was going to slaughter it. I agreed.
Tony helped me by arranging the bird on the ground, showing me where to place my foot on its wings. He (the bird, not Tony) started squawking and flapping a little. City-girl instinct: scream and jump back. I get recomposed and repositioned and take the knife.
Um … where do I cut? Tony holds the neck and guides my knife to the right position. After saying sorry to the bird, I tried, but couldn’t get the knife through the skin. Tony takes over, then admits that the knife was incredibly dull, as he struggle a little as well.
So, in the end, I failed to kill a bird yet again.
Note: This entire event was filmed, but unfortunately, I accidentally deleted the video (along with everything else on my memory card!)
Friday afternoon, 4:00 pm. I was tired of being at work for the day and decided it was time for me to leave.
I sit on my bicycle chatting with my colleagues, who were hanging out under the car park, for awhile. It is in these end of day conversations that I learn interesting things.
A mother bird started to chase her chicks around, leading them to swarm my feet (I was wearing sandals). I watched them intently, not realizing that I have now unconsciously raised my feet so just my toes are touching the ground.
Director: “You’re more interested in the birds than us now?” Probably recalling the time I was distracted by the newborn goats when I was supposed to be taking pictures of crops.
Me: “Umm …” still focused on watching the birds, not really able to form a proper sentence.
Director: “You’re afraid ?!?”
Me: “Um...”
So once again, I am teased about fowl … especially given that the veterinary officers was there.
Sigh …
Anyway, I told them that the first step to overcome a fear was admitting that it existed, and I have done so …
Director: “I think I might have to give you a special assignment. Next time Veterinary goes out to do poultry vaccinations, I think you’re going to have to go with him. You can chase the birds, grab them and give them their vaccinations”.
Me: Nervous laughter.
Veterinary: Genuine laughter.
I hope this doesn’t come to pass.
Ok, so I didn’t kill the chicken myself. My excuse was that it was getting dark and so my neighbor had to get the job done fairly quickly. (We live in a little strip of apartment-type housing, and really, don’t have anywhere to keep a chicken). And so, I watched from a safe distance. It was quite impressive the skill and speed from which the chicken went from the live state to being boiled in a pot. As he was gutting it, he paused to give me a quick biology lesson on all the innards. Laughing, I reassured him that this was the part I knew and understood.
My neighbors couldn’t believe that yesterday was my first day ever touching a live chicken (I’m pretty sure I never touched any of the animals at Butterfield Acres when I went as a child) or witnessing the death of one. It’s not that I’m traumatized by the process, I’m just not comfortable with things that have fur or feathers. Lizards and snakes are ok; goats and chickens are not. Don’t even like cats, dogs, rabbits or hamsters.
In the end, I was told that I should buy a chicken and kill it before I leave Ghana. I know Jody and Carissa did this. I know people in Canada who raise and kill their own chickens. I’m not sure though, I’m thinking I might just stick to Lillydale.
p.s. It tasted good.
I will be honest. I don’t like markets. I never have, I don’t think I ever will. I’ve never been to St. Lawrence Market, rarely to Kensington Market, and I avoid Chinatown at all costs. When travelling I’m not tempted by bazaars and kiosks. I even have a hard time handling department stores. I am looking forward to the anonymity and simplicity of shopping at Sobey’s once again.
That said, I have had a few good “market moments” in Ghana, some leaving me laughing, some leaving me mad, and some, well, just good lessons learned.
Market Moment #1
While Sam was still in Lawra we would go to market together each week. One week we were sitting small and taking some bean cakes (as I lapse into Ghanaian English …), he asked me if there was anything else I wanted to buy. Wanting to get some clothes made, I said, yes, fabric. And then, thinking nothing of it, I resumed eating. I vaguely took note of a lively conversation Sam has was having with women sitting nearby.
When we finished eating, Sam led me to an area of the market, pointed to a table which had a giant pile of socks and men’s underwear on it, and instructed me to look there. Confused, but not really getting what was going on, I said, no, I need fabric and then led him to where the cloth sellers were.
A few days later we were eating dinner and Sam started to randomly laugh. He asked me if I saw a lady hit him at the market while we were eating bean cakes. I said, no, but it looked like you were having a strange conversation. He responded, “Oh, ok, never mind then.” To which I chided him that he can’t start a story and not finish it. After several minutes of begging, he finally told me the story.
So, instead of hearing that I wanted to buy fabric, he somehow got that I wanted to buy a bra. But, in Ghanaian modesty, a – had no clue where in the market to do so, and b – was too embarrassed to ask. He was trying to ask the ladies where he could find one without using any words to directly describe what the product was, or where it was used, in either English or Dagaare. By indirectly describing the product, accompanied with a few gestures, I guess he got a couple of ladies laughing at him and hitting him.
Market Moment #2
When I go to market I take a reusable shopping back, to consolidate all my purchases into one, easier to manage parcel for my often precarious bike trip home. Despite attempting to shop from heaviest to lightest, I usually end up having to stop and take things out and reload with each purchase so as to not squish my tomatoes or burst a bag of groundnut paste. One day I was buying rice, and so squatted down to sort and rearrange my bag. Two ladies quickly rushed up to me, pulled me up and pulled down my shirt.
When I squatted down, my jeans were a little too low, my shirt a little too high. I was “showing off everything that was important”.
Market Moment #3
Because of my dislike of the market atmosphere, I have gotten it down to a system. I can be in and out with a bundle of food I can barely carry home in 10 minutes. Unfortunately, this is not how the Ghanaians do it. Market is a central piece of their culture, especially for the women. After several weeks in a row of my mad market dash, I ran into a few ladies on the street, and proceeded to get into a lot of trouble from them for failing to visit them at market. Alas, my market approach has been slightly modified now. I do a quick “visit circuit”, then an even quicker “shop” circuit …
Market Moment #4
In Canada I would often buy apples, to only have them sit in my fridge for far too long. Here, I can’t seem to get enough of them. Buying apples involves me going to Wa, and so when I go, I buy more than one. I know apples are 50 pesewa each, but I always ask the seller, just to make sure we are on the same ground. (There is the odd person who will try to sell them to you for 70psw). I ask for somewhere in the neighborhood of 40,000 (GHC4). Really, buying 8 apples shouldn’t be a big deal, but they never seem to understand that I actually want that many apples. If I ask for 40,000, they’ll usually put 4 in the bag, thinking the white lady doesn’t know what she’s asking. I encourage them to keep adding, more, and eventually, they realize that I was serious about buying 8 apples, and are happy with the sale.
I guess one positive thing about buying apples (or any produce) is that it is a price per unit, rather than pound. I’m sure we’ve all been surprised to get to the checkout and realize we mistakenly read the sign and the apples we selected were $1.99/lb, rather than $1.29!
… you get dropped off at home from work, with a live chicken, and you can knock on their door in a state of panic. Then, after they (sort of) finish laughing, they take it from you and say “Go shower, we’ll call you when it is time to kill it.”
Just showered, stay tuned for more details …
A few more pictures to enjoy:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=169431&id=641571969&l=3bfe41ea90
Just as Canadians are known for their ever famous “Eh!” there are many little phrases and quirks in Ghanaian English, some which produce a few more giggles than others. These are a few I could think of at the time of writing:
“Just let me land” – You will hear this phrase used in a meeting by someone who is rambling, and other meeting participants are starting to interrupt or express frustration. The speaker will use “just let me land” to indicate, that yeah, (s)he is eventually going to get to their point, so just be patient and let them finish.
“I am coming” – Used similarly to “Just let me land”
“To come off” – To take place, as in an event or meeting
“Small-small” – Very little, referring to amount of time or material
“Two days” – A long time. Example: You run into someone on the street you have seen for several weeks, you would probably greet them to the effect of “Aah! Two days!”.
“Tomorrow” – Indicates some time in the future, could be literally tomorrow, or could be three weeks from now.
“Tomorrow next” – the day after tomorrow
“Do you know how to chop <type of food>?” – Do you like <type of food>?
“Can you take <type of food>?” – Do you like <type of food>?
“Fine” – This is the catch-all word, potentially meaning: “Mhm, hey, hi, ok, well, hello, fine, how are you?, nice”.
“Pass water” - Urinate
“Flash” – To quickly ring someone’s mobile and hang up, in a means to either give them your number, or to indicate to them that they should call you back (because you want them to pay for the call). (Side note: A couple of us enjoyed explaining to some Ghanaians on why they should never say “let me flash you” in Canada …)
“Spread” – During the process of dating and courtship, a man needs to be able to show that he can “spread a woman”, meaning, afford to take her out for lunches, dinners and buy her gifts. If he is unable to, there is the assumption that the woman will then tell all her friends that he “can’t spread”, meaning is poor, thereby limiting his potential to procure future dates.
“Let me help you small” – Most often said to you by a Ghanaian woman when you’re doing a lousy job at what you’re doing, or taking too long for their liking (e.g. cutting vegetables, laundry). Here, this phrase essentially means: Step aside, I’m going to take over now.
“Ssssshtt” (essentially a short hiss with a sharp ending) – Used in a restaurant to signal the waiter/waitress, or to tell someone passing on the street to stop and come over.
“Wheeewh” – A sound used to indicate familiarity and greetings when passing someone you know on the street.
“Wait small” – Just a minute (a Ghanaian minute, of course, which could be any amount of time)
“Go and come” – Example usage: “Wait small, I will go and come”. Pretty self explanatory, although I always feel like I’m speaking like a two-year-old when I use this phrase.
This past week we continued on many field visits conducting harvest monitoring & evaluation. At several points, I had officers turn to me, hold up their PureWater and state, remember, it will burn, before tossing it out the window. Alas!
On Friday we shared the leftovers of our lunch with some adorable kids who were hanging near us as we stopped for prayer break. One girl threw her biscuit wrapper on the ground. One of the officers called after her and told her to pick it up and take it to the bin (or at least through my interpretation of the gestures, I think that is what he was saying). She looked surprised, but proceeded to pick it up.
This weekend I had a conversation with one of my Ghanaian neighbors which gave me hope for the plastic future of this country. Someone near us tossed their PureWater satchel on the ground, he told her to pick it up, and quoted ZoomLion’s (the national waste disposal company) motto, to “Keep Ghana Clean”. We then had a discussion about the overabundance of polys and littering. He told me that he’ll usually carry a bag around with him, or simply refuse a poly, much to the shock of the other Ghanaians, unless it is a matter of necessity. He also expressed his sadness at how they just burn the bush and the garbage. Currently, the only recycling facilities are in Accra, which, given the poor infrastructure of the country, doesn’t make it an attractive alternative, especially for the north. However, he remained optimistic that through setting positive examples, and encouraging education, we could help keep plastic off the ground.
