Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Things You Can Buy without Getting Out of a Car

Wednesday, September 27

Since the holiday weekend, things have been slow. Slow is good, though. I needed a break. Nothing really to speak of. Pizza Tueday was solid as always. I feel so good after eating all that pizza, crappy as it is.

One class today: the one I like -- Organization Theory. Gov got cancelled, thank God.

Considering I have nothing of substance to say and because I like to keep my blog fresh (ahem Joe and Ryan hahahahahha), I've decided to put this up.

One of the charming, and sometimes annoying things, about Ghana is that everybody has something to sell. The cool thing is that you don't even have to make an effort to get them; they just bring their item up to you while in a tro-tro, taxi or bus.

So without further ado, here is the list of things you can buy without getting out of a car:

Combs, tissues, apples, toilet paper, plantain chips, broom, mop, chocolate, water, ice cream, yougurt, mentos, fried doughballs, meat pie, newspaper, map, sunglasses, gum, oranges, groundnuts, ashfoam, pens, watermelon, spring rolls, remotes controls, pineapple, tampico, papaya, soap, matches, washclothes, crackers, socks, sandals, q-tips, candles, notepads, bread, cheese, mosquito coils, soymilk, popcorn, carrots, car mats, flags, make-up, palm wine, flashlights, fans, shrimp, eggs, kerosine lamps, bandanas, magazines, plungers, car freshners, cell phone units, watches, sugar cane.

And more I'm sure.

Wow.

LDG

Monday, September 25, 2006

So This is the New Year...

Thursday, September 21 –The Adventure

At 10 AM Ghanaian Time, I was greeted by Penina, Elissa, Sheanna and Shelby. This was just part of the group that would be heading out to Sefwi Wiawso for Rosh Hashanah; we would be meeting others in the town.

We promptly grabbed a tro-tro from Legon to Circle, and then from Circle to Kumasi. In an almost appropriate twist, we had a preacher on our tro-tro for the first hour. I slept through most of it, thankfully. Our tro-tro was packed, and the rows of seats were very close together. After the first couple of hours I decided to stand for the rest of the trip. We arrived in Kumasi in five hours, the fastest trip I’ve had going either way. We asked around for a tro-tro to Sefwi Wiawso. Finally, someone says to come on his tro-tro. We climb in, and after some time, we reach the end of the route – in Safo, not Sefwi. Oy. Because we are taking up seats going the other way, we must pay the tro-tro fare again. The driver says that he will drop us in Sipi. Okay. Sipi is just a Danish construction site. Apparently because we were white, and in the area, we were Danish. We would have been left high and dry if it weren’t for Collins. Collins got off the tro-tro with us, and found us a hotel. While he was gone, we spoke with some very nice security guards, one of whom played soccer all over West Africa in his day.

After 45 minutes or so, Collins returned with a taxi. He joined us for a ride to a “hotel.” The manager, or whoever was working, told us it would be 20,000 for a room for a few hours, or 50,000 for the night. The five of us concluded that it must be a brothel. We got 3 rooms, costing each of us 30,000 for the night. Not too bad. Collins told us to be awake at 5AM, and he would take us to Kumasi.

Friday, September 22 – The Arrival

5 AM, and no Collins in site. By 6AM, we decide to leave. A very nice man named Wilson picked us up and took us into a local town, where, by some twist of fate, we were met by Collins. Collins took us down to Racecourse tro-tro station in Kumasi and helped us find a tro-tro to Sefwi (not Safo). We gave a bit of money to Collins for all of his kindness and his help.

Walking down to Racecourse, a random man getting a haircut started speaking in Hebrew. This confused and surprised us, for sure. Penina spoke with him for a moment, and then we dashed off to the tro-tro

So we’re on our way. Again. The ride to Sefwi is smooth and beautiful, going through the lush, green Western Region. The ride lasts about 2 hours. As we pulled up into the tro-tro station, we are greeted by Alex Armah, the leader of the Jewish community in Sefwi. He flashes a big smile and shakes all of our hands. We load into a taxi, which has already been paid for, for a quick 15 minute ride to his house.

The house is incredible. There would be nine of us staying there tonight, plus his family. The Armah’s fed us immediately – typically Ghanaian rice and beans. After dining, we were taken on a quick tour of Sefwi with a teenage kid named Joseph. On the way, we sang some songs in Hebrew, which made all of us left. Upon returning, with a few hours to spare, we broke out some cards, and played some Hearts and Spar.

Then the rains came. Hard. Hard enough that we were able to take showers in the rain. It was all rather funny.

6 PM rolls around, and its time for dinner. More good food: yams with sauce this time. Then Shabbat. Shabbat was beautiful. There is someone in Sefwi who makes challah covers (which you can see in the pictures). Alex led a short service. Candles, blessing over “wine” – we used Fanta and Coke – and challah –just a standard loaf of bread. To cap it all off, we sang Eliahu Hanavi, Hineai Matov and Oseh Shalom.

After,Joseph, Alex’s father told us that there would be a midnight service in the Synagogue to kick of Rosh Hashanah.

Saturday, September 23 – Rosh Hashanah

So we missed the midnight service. We were told later that Joseph or Alex tried to wake us, but we were all out cold. We were all somewhat disappointed to miss the service.

Morning service was at 8. The service was beautiful. The Jewish community is about 80 people. About 35 showed up. The community is very young; most of the people in the synagogue were small children, who were absolutely adorable.

The service begins with a couple of Ghanaian songs in Sefwi, the local language which is very close to Twi. All of this service was done in Sefwi. The bulk of the service was the reading from the Bible. Alfred, a young man, translated his English Pentateuch into Sefwi, and then Alex expanded on Alfred’s reading after every verse. The service concluded with prayers for the nation, for Israel, and for peace, along with some more songs in Sefwi.

After a quick lunch, we returned to synagogue around 2. The afternoon service started around 3. With the exception of the three opening songs in Sefwi, the whole service was done in English. They did many of the main prayers: Amidah, Kadish, Aleinu and Mourners Kadish. This service closed with Psalm 27.

We returned to the Armah residence to have a sit-down with Alex. We did a rapid-fire of questions and answers, which I know for me would have been very intimidating. He answered questions until we were out of them.

Around 6, we dined again. All typically Ghanaian food again. Nothing new. Then we had a brief Havdalah service. Alex asked me to lead the service. Uhhhh, okay. We lit candles (not a Havdalah candle), did the blessing for wine over a glass of Coke, and blessed the spices, which was a flower ironically called “Christmas Tree Flower.”

For the remainder of the night, we were joined by the children and Joseph to play lots of Spar.

I know I didn’t adequately describe the experience. There really is no way to. Hopefully the pictures below will help.

To sum up in one word: amazing.

Shana Tova.

LDG

----

The one mezuzah on the Armah house
Close up of mezuzah
Challah cover made in Sefwi
Synagogue 1
Synagogue 2
Synagogue 3
Alex on the "bimah"
Alex on the "bimah" 2
More Alex
Alfred reading from Genesis
Shelby and a couple of the girls in the synagogue
The Armah Residence
Precious and David
Apples and Honey -- Yum
Precious and David as frogs
Rachel -- I want to take her home with me





Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Cards, Clinic and Clothes

Monday, September 18

After the exhausting weekend of a lot of travel and little to do, I was welcomed with an obligation-free Monday. I slept late, later than usual, which was much needed. For the better part of the day, I lazed around, played Hearts on the computer, and played Spar with Duncan.

Spar is a Ghanaian game which is something like War, but requires a lot of thinking. I really can’t explain it well, but I’ll do my best. First, all of the twos, threes, fours and fives are taken out of the deck. Aces are high and sixes are low. Each player is dealt five cards. A player (the person who lost the previous hand) opens with a card. The opposing player must play a card of the same suit if he or she has one. If the card played by Player 2 is larger, then that person takes control, and plays a card. Otherwise, Player 1 remains in control and plays another card. If Player 2 doesn’t have a card in the same suit, he or she can play any card, but Player 1 remains in control and plays another card. This goes back and forth through the five cards.

This is where points come into play. On the last card, if Player 1 plays a card and it is bigger than Player 2’s same suit card or unsuited card, then Player 1 gets a point. However, a player gets two points if their last card is a 7 (the second lowest card) or three points if a 6 is the last card played and goes unbeaten. Further, multiple point cards are additive, so if Player 1’s final two cards are a 7 and a 6, the player gets 2+3 = 5 points. (Duncan and I have recorded 8 a piece in our own games. Duncan got 9 playing someone else). Player 2 can steal a point if their final card is larger and in the same suit as Player 1’s cards.

In all, it’s an easy game to learn, but it does take a lot of game planning and analytical thinking. Duncan and I learned the game the first week here, but now we’re taking a much more analytical approach to the game. We’ll play the same hands out a couple times to see how it can be played out differently.

Anyways, back to reality. Monday was Orion’s birthday so we did a little drinking to celebrate. Upon returning, Orion and Duncan learned that their key was with the porter and the porter was out for the night. Oops. Luckily for the two of them, our rooms connect. I went into my room, went out my back door, and climbed over my balcony and onto theirs (by the way, we’re four floors up. Don’t worry Mom). Sadly, their back door was locked, so I ripped the screen off their window, reached my hand through and unlocked the door from the inside. It made me realize how easily our rooms can be broken into.

Tuesday, September 19

Apparently, international students have mandatory medical examinations, which no one told us about. Luckily, I saw the posting for it the night before, and made my roommate Francis aware of it. We went to the clinic and waited. And waited. And waited. This was not the most organized operation by any means. While we waited and complained, we started talking with people from other abroad groups. I met three Jewish girls who were planning to go to Sefwi for the holidays, which was perfect. They clearly had a better contact than I had and got the okay to go a while ago. So, I latched on to their group, and will be going with them. Anyways, three hours of waiting resulted in 5 minutes of procedures. Totally worth it. Right.

For the afternoon, Devereau, Duncan and I started to hit up some travel agencies looking for flights to Egypt. We found one for 708 – 100 dollars cheaper than the airline quoted. It appears that my trip to Egypt is on. I’m really looking forward to it. It will be a good break and a great opportunity to see some history.

Wednesday, September 20

Back to clinic today. Another couple hours of waiting. Blah blah. Everything is okay with me. I guess I’m healthy – at least by Ghanaian standards, I am. I ended up missing a class, which didn’t break my heart because I hate the class.

Today was one of those rare days where we had both electricity and water for some period of time (wow!). I was able to shower and shave, which was long overdue. I’ve learned to shave with cold water, which is painful, but I deal with it. It’s nice to get clean every once in a while.

I also picked a super-sweet pair of shorts that I had made. Check em out.

Still Alive in Ghana

Finally, finally, going to Sefwi for the weekend for the High Holidays. I’ll post on Sunday or Monday, hopefully with pictures and definitely with a new idea of how the High Holidays are celebrated.

Have a great weekend. And to all the Jews, L’Shana Tova.

LDG.

Pictures -- Takoradi

Sunday, September 17, 2006

A Weeekend in Decline, yet a Weekend Worthwhile

Sunday, Septermber 17th

One third of the way through my stay here in Ghana, I decided it was time for some independent traveling. I was hoping to meet up with David Ahenkora – the leader of the Jewish community – but considering my prior luck with him, my hopes were not high.

I woke up early, hoping to catch an early bus to Kumasi. When I asked if there was anything available, I received a common answer here in Ghana: “It is finished.” I knew that I could get to Sefwi from Takoradi, which is on the west coast of Ghana, so I took a ticket there. My bus was scheduled to leave at 7:00; naturally, if left at 9:00. It’s what I have come to expect.

The ride to Takoradi was silky. The ride was less than four-and-a-half hours, most of which was on smooth pavement. I managed to sleep most of the trip.

Takoradi reminded me a lot like home: a nice downtown, not so difficult to get to the beach, but not a lot to do. I decided to dive into the market, hoping to buy some cloth for some clothing, and boy, did I hit the jackpot. I bought 4 different cloths, at 2 yards each, for under 100,000 cedis – 11 dollars – total. Sweetness. Soon enough, I’ll have some one-of-a-kind clothing.

Going through a market is always an interesting experience. Being white means being wealthy, so everybody tries to pitch their product. A market has all the aromas and odors of Ghana. The sweet smell of oranges and fresh vegetables is quickly overpowered by the rancidness of days-old (and freshly caught) fish. In all, Takoradi was the most open and most organized market I’ve experienced.

By 3PM, my hunger had caught up to me. I walked up Monkey Hill, wanting to grab some chow and hoping to see some monkeys along the way. I ordered some banku and beef soup. The banku (Fermented corn/cassava dough) dipped in the soup was delicious; the beef: not so much. Luckily, two lovely young ladies saved me and bought me some beef and vegetable sauce, which was just right.

Being 4:00, I had a decision to make: I could either wait for the monkeys around 5 or 6, or I could catch the sunset over the beach. I formed a gameplan: catch sunset, take the overnight train from Takoradi to Kumasi, then go north to a different monkey sanctuary.

I flagged down a taxi and asked for Joy Chinese Restaurant. Idiot Cab Driver (the first of many) took me to a different Chinese restaurant. (Who figures that there would be more than one Chinese joint in Takoradi?!?). Finally we arrived at the correct restaurant. I ordered a Star, Ghana’s Favorite – and by far crappiest – beer, and started my brick of school reading as the sun started to drop.

It became quite apparent that the sun would not set over the sea – thanks a lot Lonely Planet Guidebook – so I went wandering down the beach. While the sun still didn’t set over the sea, it was still a lovely, calming view. Being nearly on top of the equator, the sun drops quickly and drops right around 6 in the evening.

Post-sunset, I made my way over to the train station, which had no electricity. Scheduled to leave at 8:30, it should take no more than 12 hours to get to Kumasi.

While we waited for the train, I spoke with a man named Samson. One thing I’ve learned here is that its not about the places you go, or the sites you see, but about the people you meet. Samson is an elementary school math teacher. His dream is to teach statistics in university, but he can’t afford to go to university anymore. Two years ago, his father, at age 85, died of malaria. Being the fourth of five children, Samson received very little after his father’s death – not nearly enough to finish tertiary education. So for now, Samson will teach, until he has enough money to go back to school, if he gets lucky.

The train left close to on-time – 9PM. My digs were small but comfortable – a room 4 by 6 feet with a set of bunk beds which were far to small for me. Being the only person in my room, I took the paper-thin mattress that lay on the top bunk and lay it on the paper-thin mattress of the bottom bed. It made an almost comfortable bed. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep much, so I kept myself humored by the fact that I was riding in a World War II – era, German train through Ghana.

The charm quickly wore off as my 12 hour trip slowly turned into a 19 hour trip. Arriving at 3 PM, my gameplan was officially busted and I was extremely tired. I kept myself entertained for a while by continuing my brick of reading, until two little, “portable” (cute) girls found their way into my room.

The train station runs through Kejetia Market, which is the largest in Ghana, and one of the largest in West Africa. This was not nearly as nice as Takoradi, so I boogied out.

I took a 2 mile stroll to the STC station, where I purchased a return ticket to Accra. I wanted to buy a late afternoon ticket, so I could see the monkeys in the morning. The latest available was 1:30. I took it and grabbed a cab, trying to find the Menkah Hotel.

Idiot cab driver #2 wanted 30,000 to go to the hotel, which was outrageous. I told him I would walk. I made my way from the station, until another cabby, Idiot #3, said he would take me for 15. Fine. Idiot 3 served in the military along side some Norwegians in Beirut in 1980 (what?). He expressed his hate for Beirut, and – as a Christian – his love for Bethlehem. Idiot 3 dropped me about a mile from the hotel. I walked to Menkah, got a room a for 11 dollars which had a shower with running water, a toilet, a television with one station, and a nice double bed. I took a shower – I was long overdue for one – watched some TV and went to bed.

I slept for almost 11 hours, which was fantastic. I had some crazy dreams. In one, I ran into Joe and Ryan in, of all places, Mozambique. In the second, I was with Joe and Steve, two of the guys on the trip, at some Olympic opening ceremony. In the third, I was playing tennis again some 12-year old tennis phenom in a tournament. For the record, I took no drugs the night before.

With not enough time to do anything of interest, I went to the bus station around 10:30. As I organized my thoughts for this post, I was humored by a “Tia and Tamara” movie. Wow. I purchased some plaintain chips, some water, and boarded the bus for a dreadful 6+ hour ride.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Where the Streets Have No Names

Tuesday, September 12

Today was my third trip to Buduburam Refugee Camp. I had scheduled a meeting with Jeremiah, the head of Self Help Initiatives for Sustainable Development (SHIFSD). This was the first time that I had gone up to SHIFSD, which is in the back of the refugee camp, by myself. I figured that I could get to the building with no problem. My memory, however, failed me.

Buduburam is a place where the streets have no names. You need to find landmarks and remember them to know where you are going.

The meeting went off without a hitch. I passed off our health curriculum to Jeremiah and he, as well as the other teachers seemed very pleased. Registration is up to 205 people, 50 more than we anticipated. We are committed to feeding everyone, even if it means giving everyone less.

Upon return, the majority of the school was without electricity. We were told that it would be out until tomorrow. But one of the things that I've learned here is that a person's word isn't exactly as good as gold. You can ask the same question to three people and get five different answers. I told Ryan that I was sure that the electricity would be on tonight, and lo and behold, here it is. We still have no running water though, which is nice.

Yesterday, I made my way over to the airport. I was on a mission to find flights to either Egypt or Tanzania. Amazingly,I was successful in both. The airport is about as organized as the rest of the country. Some of the airlines have agents there, some of them are scattered around Accra. Right now, it's looking like Egypt, which is very exciting. It's a trip that will be filled with awe, history, and relaxation -- if it works.

All for now. I'll probably post again after the weekend. Ciao.

LDG

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Mexican Food, American Football. What Country am I In Again?

Sunday, September 10th


The funeral we attended on Friday night was somewhat disappointing. We missed all the good stuff (the sacrifice, the casket, etc) so the night was just filled with dancing, singing and drumming. All of us obrunis – and there were a lot of us there – got called out to dance. My prior apprehension to dance at occasions like these has gone out the window for one – or all – of three reasons: I’m more comfortable doing the dance, I know I’m not being judged and it’s the effort that counts, and I was a little buzzed.

With the understanding that there was going to be nothing more than singing, drumming, and dancing, most of the obruni crew found its way back home.

The weekend has arrived, and things have been pretty lazy for the most part. Our running water came back on for a brief time. And I was overdue for both a shower and laundry. Feeling particularly lazy, I really didn’t want to wash the eight pairs of pants I have, so I paid Bernard, an “any-work boy” to was them, for just 2 dollars. Totally worth it. We also paid him to take a bench from another floor for us. Once again, totally worth it.

We had great hope for the evening. A formidable posse of Duncan, Rags, Francis, Kevin and I rolled into Champs Sports Bar, hoping to catch the Notre Dame – Penn State game. Sadly, the sports bar didn’t get any college football, so we settled for watching the Roddick – Youznhy U.S. Open Semi-final match and a recording of the Steelers – Dolphins football game. Champs has the only Mexican food in Accra, so most of us enjoyed the Mexican food, as well as the pitcher of Castle Stout. For 5 of us, we paid about 35 dollars, rather expensive for Ghana.

I also finished a compilation of stories by Peace Corps Volunteers about their time in their respective countries. It was inspiring, and most of the stories showed how one person can truly make a difference in a community. It has only reinforced my beliefs in civil service and the idea of making some contribution to the world, no matter the size.

Today has been slow. Just about to catch the A’s game. Zito is pitching again – just our luck.

Out for now.

LDG

Friday, September 08, 2006

Class, the Ghanaian Way

Friday, September 8

I wish my days in school were as interesting as my "weekends" but the simple fact is, school is school, no matter what continent you are on. Luckily for me, my afternoon class on Wednesday was cancelled. It's the one class that I really don't like, but I'm sticking with it anyway. I think it will help explain why some things in this country are so odd.

Lecture on Thursday was a little more interesting, in an interesting sort of way (just follow me here). I got little sleep the night before, and woke up early to make things worse. The first class, Conflict in African States, is taught by a professor who has a very wry sense of humor. The class was pretty well packed. Easily 400 people, and tons of obrunis. I sat as far away as possible from them. In general, then obrunis sit in groups, which is comforting and all, but I'd rather just blend in -- well as much as white kid in a black sea of faces can blend in.

The second lecture was where things got interesting. It was in the same room, which is quite convenient. And as normal, he showed up about 25 minutes, and it looked like he was well drenched in sweat. And then, he starts to ramble, so much so that the Ghanaian students -- who literally will right down every word of a lecture -- are paralyzed. I have no trouble keeping up, as I'm used to professors going a thousand miles an hour. About 25 minutes into his lecture, he stops and says, "Okay, let's try to right something down." And he goes through his lecture, almost verbatim, three or four words at a time so the Ghanaians can write everything. Odd. I half-way paid attention, writing something when a new point was made, but for the most part, I wrote very little.

Instead, I filled the remaining time in class by reading "Forrest Gump." As it is one of my all-time favorite movies, I greatly anticipated this read. I started it on Wednesday night, and finished it this afternoon. It was a good read, all in all, but I like the movie better. The movie was just a bit more believable. I'm also in the middle of reading a compilation of stories written by Peace Corps Volunteers. It's very interesting, and I can relate to a lot of the stories on some level.

This afternoon, after finishing "Gump," Diane and I went to lunch. We were joined by a man named Hermann, who is an Ivoirian (Ah-vwah-rian: hes from Ivory Coast). I'm glad to say that things in Ivory Coast have somewhat settled, and I'm going to try to go there when their elections take place, which are, "by the grace of God" as Hermann said, in October.

Once again, no water, no electricity. This is the last time that I'm going to say there is no running water. Just assume that the water is off, and when it's actually on, I'lll post it. I think we are going to do a study to see if the water is off more than on or vice versa. We did get a little lucky though, in that it has been raining all day, and my hair really needed a rinsing. Desparate times call for desparate measures.

Weather pending, Duncan and I are going to a funeral for a fetish priest. If we go, it will be unreal. In the words of "Anchorman," this guy is "kind of a big deal." In fact, we heard that they were going to sacrifice TWO bulls at this thing, so you know he must be important. If we do go, there will be many a-picture, which will be posted as soon as possible.

Stay well.

LDG

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Home, Home, and Hope

Tuesday, September 5


The last few days have been uneventful for the most part, yet at the same time, they have been two of the most fulfilling days I’ve had here.

Monday was Monday – naturally lazy and slow. But we had a technological breakthrough. My parents and I mutually discovered that we had microphones on our webcams. I was able to talk to my parents and see them for the first time, which was such a thrill. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for a good couple of hours.

It was getting “late” but I wasn’t quite tired enough to sleep. Duncan, Rags and I decided that a game of Hearts was what we needed. I ended up shooting the moon to win the game, which was pretty cool.

Victory in hand, I was preparing to go to bed. That is, until we heard what sounded like a brawl on the fifth floor. My curiosity piqued to say the least. I asked what was happening upstairs: “fresher initiation.” Now I was humored to say the least.

I took the walk upstairs to meet the fine fellows handing out the punishment to the freshmen. We stayed up until 3 or 3:30 in the morning just talking, getting to know each other, cracking jokes, doing the things that college kids should do. It was a great feeling to be a part of something, to feel like I was welcomed into their little community. It was probably the first time that I’ve felt that I was at home and comfortable here. For most of the time, it’s been mutually recognized that we Americans are outsiders. In one night, though, a lot of that went away. I would have talked with them all night, but I had to get up early to go to Buduburam Refugee Camp.

Prior to leaving for Camp, I had a meeting with my advisor, Rev. Abraham Akrong, for my independent study project. Our meeting was scheduled for 11. I showed up on time, as I usually do; he showed up at 11:30. Whatever. I was glad to get the meeting done so I could spend a little time on camp.

Joe, Haley, and I convened in front of school to take our route to Camp: Legon to Circle, Circle to Kineshi, Kineshi to Kasoa, Kasoa to Camp. Our choice of vehicle was tro-tro. Taking a tro-tro is a truly Ghanaian experience. I don’t think there is anything like it anywhere in the world. A tro-tro is full-size van with 4 or 5 rows of seats. In the United States, this would comfortably fit 12-15 people. In Ghana, they pack anywhere between 20 and 30 people into the van. You haven’t had your personal space violated until you have been in a tro-tro.

The tro-tro is operated by two people: the driver and the “mate.” The mate has two responsibilities: collecting the money from people and yelling out the window where the tro-tro is going. Usually, the name is said 3 times in quick succession and the name is usually shortened. For example Accra would be “CraCraCra,” Circle is CircCircCirc.” It’s always a good chuckle.

After 2 hours of tro-tro rides, we arrived at camp. I was eagerly anticipating a meeting with Jeremiah, the Executive Director of SHIFSD, the organization on the camp which AfricaAid works with. It was a perfect meeting – short, sweet, and to the point – but more than anything, it gave me great hope that the program which we put so much time into is actually going to fly. Jeremiah informed me that 170 children had enrolled for school, more than the 150 we were anticipating. And the best part is that the children don’t know about the school lunches – they want to go to school on their own volition. They will be so surprised when they receive a mid-day meal.

After my meeting, I met some of the teachers and volunteers at the school. These are the people that are responsible for teaching the curriculum that Ryan, myself, and many others at San Diego put together. They were absolutely thrilled to meet me; I had to keep insisting that the pleasure was mine.

We jetted out early, knowing that traffic through Accra would be hell. It would be rush our by the time we hit Accra. We were able to catch a tro-tro straight to Kineshi, which was nice; one less step. Then we hit Circle, and sat there. And sat there. After a substantial amount of time, we started moving. Three hours after leaving, we arrived in Legon, primed for two-for-one pizza night. All I can say was that it was perfect.

Don’t really know what’s in store for the weekend. My plans to go to Sefwi were, again, cut down, because they are dealing with some legal issue. Hopefully, I can make it next weekend. It’s an experience I can’t wait for.

Oh, yes. Today was also the first day since we got back from Cape Coast that I've had running water. I have never been so grateful for a cold, weak stream of water.

All for now. Stay well.

LDG

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Patience and Sacrifice (and pictures)

Thursday, August 31 -- Cape Coast

Our last piece of our orientation was a trip to Cape Coast, sight of one of the slave castles, for a festival. Festivals are very common in Ghana, occurring on a near monthly basis. This particular festival is a yearly festival to cleanse the city of Cape Coast.

The afternoon was slow, and the evening got even slower, especially after a couple rounds of palm wine. Palm wine is a very unique drink. It smells like absolute shit, but the fresh stuff tastes very sweet. It's very low in alcoholic content, but once you've had a few, it's a quick buzz. We were drinking for Desmond's, our orientation leader's, birthday.

Post-drinking, we made our way over to the center of the city to check out the beginning of the festival -- a vigil full of fetish dancing. The even started 3 hours late, 11 o'clock, and we were all exhausted. Most of us bailed out before it really kicked off. Bummer for us I guess, but the sleep was more important.

Friday, September 1

September is here. We have hit the quarter-poll for the trip. I find the days go by slow, but collectively has gone very fast.

This day was probably the most interesting of all the days. The most bloody, that's for sure. Most of us made our way up to the castle in prepration for the slaughtering of a bull, a ritual to appease the gods and cleanse the city. But prior to this, we went into the castle -- where many slaves were held for weeks -- to watch a couple of fowls get slaughtered. I tried to look at the whole thing as objectively as possible, that its a tradition of theirs, and I can't really judge what they do. The chief held the love fowl on the shrine, then slit its throat, the blood dripping over the shrine. Then it was let go, and luckily for them, it landed on its back; this means that the gods accepted their offer. For celebration, wine was passed around. Nothing like drinking at 9:30 AM.

After this, the townspeople marched down to scene of the fetish dancing, just a couple kilmeters away. This bull got more than its fair share of abuse on the way down. After waiting for the chiefs to arrive, the bull was placed on a shrine, then, like the chickens, had its slit throat. Many of the locals drank some of the blood. It was fairly humane for what it's worth. Like the fowls, this was their tradition. The bull is sacrificed because it is the most valuable, both in monetary value and in use.

Appropriately, I had a hamburger immediately after watching this. While waiting, Duncan, Isis, Haley, Liz and I played Hearts and drank. We wasted most of our afternoon doing this, which proved to be a great plan. I ended up spending the majority of the night with Isis, who is a very beautiful girl, in a very platonic manner. We hadn't really talked much before, but it was very easy to talk to her, and she the same for me, I think. It was really the first time that I've been able to let my guard down and be myself. It was very relieving. Everybody here kind of has a facade on because we're still not entirely comfortable with each other. Most of our night was spent by the beach, just enjoying the smell of the ocean, the stars, and each others company.

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Saturaday, September 2

The main part of the festival is today. It was a very slow day, and very tiring, especially considering the hour at which we were up the night before. All of the local chiefs were paraded through the town, with plenty of awesome drum accompaniment. I wish I could post music here, because Will did some awesome recording. All in all, the day was very slow. It was very warm, people weren't moving fast, and I definitely got burned. By the end of the day, I was fried, and chose to make an early evening of it. Tomorrow, we'd be getting up early.

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Sunday, September 3

Last day in Cape Coast. With the festival over, the EAP crew headed over to Kakum National Park. Kakum has 1 of 4 canopy walks in the world, and the experience was spectacular. It was all very calming, being above the trees, "seeing the world in green and blue." The ride home was slow, and not that steady. A lot of the ride is on unpaved roads. We were constantly bouncing up and down, speeding up and slowing down. It felt like being on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland.

We got home safely, and arrived to a lovely surprise in Legon -- a rare trifecta: No electricity, no running water and pouring rain. A little rain couldn't keep us from Rich Love. Duncan and I slammed down some absolutely amazing chicken with pepper and tomato sauce and rice.

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All for now. Enjoy the pics. There are a few below that are kind of novelty items here in Ghana, that really need to come back to the states

Fan Ice -- The best Ice Cream in a bag for about a quarter
Bagged Water -- 3 cents per 500 ml. Awesome.
Ghanaian illiteracy: oops