Saturday 8th August
More patience required this morning for our 9.00am meeting. Firstly Ahmed popped round when I was getting ready to pick up the office keys as he wanted to ‘get in early’… bit frustrating therefore that I then had to wait locked outside the office until he turned up at 9.15! Although that was a better showing than Helen (9.45), and Paul (10.20)…
In the meeting Helen was pushing for us three volunteers to travel up to the Tiyah project in Yendi in the North of Ghana. It’s a hell of a journey up there – a good six hours to Tamale, and another two-three on to Yendi without much to see at the other end (the project isn’t up and running yet, so there’s only a building to look at). My natural cynicism alert is warning me that the unspoken motivation for wanting us to travel is to ask for more funds to help get the project up and running. I honestly don’t mind being asked for money – and have no qualms about saying no if needed, I just don’t much like the thought of being manipulated… we shall see.
In any event the trip will be worth making as it will give us a chance to see the North, and enable us to spend a weekend at Mole National Park with its elephants and monkeys.
After a bit more sitting around waiting for Small Paul, we went into the National Cultural Centre to hang out with Beth, Eva, Annalot and Anouk again. Over the weeks I’ve made a few friends from the stall holders in the cultural centre – in fact I’ve never been so popular. I’m realistic though, it’s not necessarily my winning personality, but rather a potent cocktail of my white skin and the notion that I’ve got money to spend that makes me such an attractive proposition.
Spent the evening with Beth so had managed to swing us an invite through a friend to the opening of a new sports bar at Yegoala, the hotel owned by one Tony Yeboah.
The place was as swanky as anywhere I’ve been in Ghana with prices to match, but it was superb to back in what I would call an English style sports bar – even with highlights of Arsenal on the TV when we entered. After a beer I go the chance to meet the big man himself, and he’s certainly big man. I remember form his playing days that Yeboah was always a strong powerful figure but he looks like he’s been enjoying retirement, and with a bit of middle aged spread is looking like one huge unit, but very friendly and welcoming all the same. Couple of – unbeaten - games of pool later it was time to head back.
Sunday 9th August
All about footy today. We’d been planning to watch the Asante Kotoko cup match in a big group, but with Beth, Annalot and Anouk dropping out it ended up with just Eva and I going to the game.
The stadium was probably only one third full for the game between Kotoko and Hearts of Lions, from the Volta region, with the home side going down 2-0 – a late breakaway goal sealing the defeat and sending the locals home dejected.
Earlier on I’d gone into town to use the internet – Ashes series back to 1-1 – and attend to the important business of selecting my fantasy football side for the 09/10 season. It also meant I was able to catch some of the Charity Shield game between Man Utd and Chelsea. I’d seen a sign on the street advertising the game for 50 peswars entry, so followed the directions, paid my money and found my way around the back of a house into what was essentially someone’s back yard. At one end was the TV – no more than a 24” screen in front of which must have been 100-120 Ghanaians crammed onto a series of wooden benches and shouting at the box. The place was absolutely jumping with the two most popular teams in Ghana on show, with a roughly 50/50 split between the two sides it was a great atmosphere – certainly more passionate than the live match later on.
Sundays are a good day to walk through Kumasi centre as it’s much quieter than during the week. I also really enjoy the time spent on my own as you have a much greater chance of meeting some interesting individuals. Just today I met a man who wants me to work with him from the UK helping to help secure recruits to his volunteer organisation – part of what he runs is HIV / AIDS based so I think I’ll pay him a visit at least.
After that I was eating my lunch and chatting to two nice young church singers, it was all very reverential, “God bless you” this, “thank the Lord” that – until they found out I was single and one of them offered me his sister! Before enquiring after mine…
Monday 10th August
I like to think that I came to Ghana with my eyes open and was mostly prepared for what was in store, but one thing I just hadn’t considered was the smell. In short, Ghana stinks.
Of course I was aware that it would be dirty, but I just hadn’t thought about the smell – and it’s pretty bad. All roads here are flanked by open ditch sewers, ranging in depth from about one foot to four feet, and stinking to high heaven. While it doesn’t pay to study them too closely, they contain all manner of waste, sewer water, rubbish, rotting food… all with the occasional added bonus of a chicken or two rooting around for something to eat.
The smell follows you everywhere and in a way I’ve kind of got used to it now, under a sudden gust of wind hits and you get a great big lungful of contaminated air.
The other related thing is the litter – much like London stations, but presumably for differing reasons – the main towns and cities don’t seem to have any rubbish bins, so everybody ends up dropping their waste where they stand in the street, or into the fragrant sewers. This all means the streets are always strewn with water bags, decomposing fruit and the small black plastic bags that shops or stalls insist on using for even the tiniest purchase.
Out in the villages the only method of waste disposal is to pile up all of the rubbish with a mountain of dry leaves and burn it, which doesn’t smell great either, and leaves half incinerated bottles, cans etc floating across the dirt roads and walkways. It isn’t too hot for the environment either, but as Westerners it probably isn’t our place to be lecturing too much on carbon footprints.
Sticking rigidly to a theme the meeting started late – with Paul over an hour late, Ahmed and I were left to have a quick catch up. Ahmed’s plan for the week is to start going back to our communities with the new topic of Hepatitis B.
Predictably when Paul turned up – after Ahmed had left for work – he didn’t agree, feeling that the people aren’t quite ready to grasp the topic yet, and I kind of agree. There’s a huge job to be done with HIV education still, and think our focus would be better spent exhausting every avenue with that focus.
Still on my own for most of the day with Bridie and Laura traveling back from the coast, so I took in a bit of sunshine before a mammoth session at the fastest internet connection I’ve found to date.
Tuesday 11th August
It just ended up as Small Paul and I for the community visits today, with the girls too tired after their traveling exploits, and we popped into Asoufua – my favourite of the local communities for a few presentations.
It was instructive to go back to a couple of places that we’d visited previously and challenge them to remember what we talked them through on the prior occasion. Mostly they were scratchy at best when it came to the definition of HIV and AIDS, and the differences between the two, but more significantly they’d taken in what we had to say about causes and preventative measures of the virus. They’d even grasped the intricacies of mother to baby transmission which I hadn’t thought had gone across all that well. All in all it was encouraging.
In the afternoon, Beth and I went back to the cultural centre for a bit of present shopping. All the ground work I’d put into building friendships with the stall holders came to fruition when it came to haggling on prices. If we didn’t quite get ‘mates rates’, I reckon we at least managed to part paying locals prices rather than inflated ‘obroni’ prices.
After that I had a superb dinner back at Vic Baboos – a near as dammit ‘authentic’ ruby. Spicy beef curry, steamed rice and a chapatti, and of course a couple of cold lagers. A full six weeks after my last curry back in the UK, it was welcomed like an old friend.
Wednesday 12th August
Preparing for another early start for the trip oop North tomorrow. It’ll be a long day, but should be interesting. By all accounts Northern Ghana is very different to South and Central areas that I’ve visited to date. The town of Yendi that we’re visiting is one of the poorest in the country, and has been suffering from conflict as recently as 2003.
This afternoon we erected a roadside sign directing passers by to Tiyah Development Centre – a huge metal board compete with almost obligatory typos. Still it does look good, and judging by the amount of cement mix we poured into the holes it should stand the test of time for many, many years to come.
Thursday 13th August
Food, accommodation, medical care? No, after today I’ve decided if there’s only one thing that I’m going to pay a little bit extra for – from now on I’m going to indulge myself with ‘luxury’ travel.
We left the compound at 4.30am and spent the entire day either wedged into a series of increasingly more unlikely and uncomfortable positions on public transport, or waiting as patiently as possible for the various buses to depart. We eventually settled down in our hotel and sought out an urgent medicinal Star at 9.30 that evening.
I’ve had my run-ins with the Mass Metro bus before, but forewarned isn’t necessarily forearmed. The MM can’t be pre-booked so it works on a first come, first served basis, (or more accurately first push into the front of the queue, first served basis). With Bridie at home sick, Laura, Small Paul and I were greeted with a huge line of early-bird Ghanaians when we arrived at the bus station at about 4.45, eventually boarding the second bus to leave which rolled out at 7.05, and set off on the long trip to Yendi.
While uncomfortable, the first leg of the trip – seven hours to Tamale, including a couple of leg-stretches on the way - was just about bearable, and my backside went to sleep, even if the rest of me couldn’t.
Things started to grate a little more after reaching Tamale (circ. 400kms). After such a long trip I was hoping for the chance to jump off and grab some food, but instead we re-loaded immediately and set off again after around half an hour of noise and pushing. With the driver stopping to run several personal errands we eventually got moving properly to Yendi with me starting to lose my sense of humour. The two hour drive felt like a lot more.
We got to the end of our journey, and the purpose of our trip – the Tiyah school / orphanage building in Yendi, and spent all of ten minutes looking at the half finished site before heading back to find a tro-tro back to Tamale because, according to Helen, it’s too dangerous here to stay for any longer. Thanks for that!
Our tro back to Tamale was the straw that broke the camel’s back and then used to tickle his nose as he lay in total agony. We boarded around 5.30, and waited for the tro to fill. And waited. Eventually with the driver satisfied he’d stuffed as many people as humanly possible into the back of his truck we left just after 7.00, looking like one of those 1970s Guinness World Record attempt to stuff as many students as possible into a phone box.
We finally pitched back into Tamale at 9.30 – a full seventeen hours after setting off from home, having spent under 15 mins at our main destination. A colossal waste of time. More than a little eggy, I challenged Paul over a beer and a Chinese and he conceded what I’d already guessed, that the main reason for us traveling was to give us the opportunity to invest in the project.
That’s not to say there was nothing of interest however, traveling North we could see the landscape of Ghana change before our eyes. It was green all the way, but became flatter as we progressed, the mostly arable farmland of the south changing into more sparsely vegetated pasture land.
This is more the authentic Africa that I had been expecting with rural villages consisting of small, round mud huts with thatched roofs, the buildings often arranged in blocks of four or six in a kind of snooker table formation with small walls connecting the individual huts to form an external central courtyard.
Passing by in the bus these villages look like very close knit communities that probably haven’t changed in hundreds of years.
To date, the Ghana that we’ve seen has been mostly Christian, but the North is predominantly Moslem, so the usual proliferation of churches is replaced by mosques. Otherwise the north feels more sub-Saharan, it’s dry, hot and dusty, and everyone seems to be getting about on two wheels – motorized or pedal powered.
Friday 14th August
Another epic journey today, ending sleeping under the most amazing night sky that I’ve ever seen at Larabanga on the edge of Mole National Park.
After the excursions of the day before we made a slow start to the day, getting up late after a huge storm followed by a leisurely wander around Tamale, a town which doesn’t seem to have a huge amount to offer the casual tourist, other than being a staging post for more exciting journeys.
Bridie came to join Laura and I on the same bus as we’d caught the day before, so after meeting up we grabbed a quick lunch and set about the mission of getting to Larabanga – something that is much more difficult than you would expect for a major tourist route.
Luckily mistaken we’d assumed that we had missed the 2.00pm Mass Metro bus to Lara when we hit the typically chaotic bus/tro station at around 4.00, but somehow through a combination of sheer fluke and flashing a bit of cash managed to get bundled on the still waiting bus. One particular large Ghanaian made it his personal quest to get us on board sorting out our tickets and holding off a hoard of locals trying to get on the bus ahead of us in return for a fistful of Cedi.
We were standing but, fortunate to be on at all, weren’t complaining. The bus eventually left Tamale at 4.20, and pulled into Larabanga at a little after 8.30. All of the guidebooks warn of a slow, often dangerous journey to Mole, but that looked misleading when an hour into the trip we’d gone more than halfway and were breezing it… then we turned off the main road and it all started getting a bit hairier.
The next three and a half hours was spent on little more than a dirt track – typical of the small rural villages, but unfathomable for the only route to possibly the most rewarding tourist spot in Ghana. Standing up we were thrown from side to side dramatically as the driver tried to steer a path for his huge, over-populated bus. On several occasions I felt the need to lean against the titling angle of the coach in the vain hope my shifting weight might help keep the bus on four wheels. We made it in the end, but you could suddenly see why so many Ghanaians are religious – there were more than a couple of times when I was looking round for a spare set of rosary beads.
Larabanga is smaller than I was expecting with only 4,000 people in the community. Luckily we’d had the foresight to cal ahead to reserve space with the Salia Brothers Guest House, and one of them met us from the bus – Larabanga is notoriously hassle prone for tourists, especially those arriving in the dark.
The guesthouse again was smaller than I’d imagined, but homely and cheap at five Cedi each for the night – after dropping off our bags one of the brothers became our unofficial tour guide and took us on the short walk through the dark alleyways between the traditional mud huts to the main reason for visiting Larabanga – the mosque. Accepted as the oldest building in Ghana (but exact dates vary wildly), and equipped with enough myths and legends to satisfy the most demanding tourist, the mosque is the focal point of the exclusively Moslem village. The locals here are immensely proud of the white clay building, and although we weren’t actually permitted to enter the building it was an admittedly impressive sight.
As it’s Friday night, the club next door to Salia Brothers was in full swing, so with no chance of sleep anytime soon we climbed a rickety ladder to the roof of the guesthouse where we enjoyed a chilled out, and much needed lager. With a total darkness that’s never possible in the UK and a perfectly clear sky, we marveled at the million and one stars in the night sky. I’ve heard people talk about the sky in these terms before but never seen it for myself.
Charmed by the view and stung a little by the romanticism of it (partly fuelled no doubt by the 5.7% Stone Beer) I decided to take up the option of sleeping on the roof under the night’s canopy. With my mattress moved to the roof and just under my cotton sleeping bag it was an unforgettable experience to drift off under the stars, and wake up again to the noises of the small village waking up and setting about a day’s work.
Monday 31 August 2009
Friday 21 August 2009
Week Five
Saturday 1st August
After the dramas of the previous evening we made a bit of a later start to the day than planned, but set off for Kakum National Park, where the main attraction is the suspended canapé rope walkway – 40 meters high through the trees in the dense Ghanaian rainforest.
It’s a real tourist trap, but well worth a visit for a unique perspective on the sights and sounds of the forest, the rope walkways have a tendency to swing alarmingly and creak from time to time, leaving those without a head for heights somewhat perturbed.
We also took up the option of a one hour guided walk through the forest – in hindsight perhaps flip-flops weren’t the most appropriate footwear – where we so little or no wildlife, although our guide was able to point out notable trees, including some humungous centuries old cotton trees with a base the size of an average house.
On the way back to Cape Coast we stopped off at Hans Cottage Botel, another tourist must see, that features a restaurant built over a small lake housing many fish, birds, and most notably fresh water crocodiles. Enjoying lunch less than ten yards from a basking croc was a new experience for me, although I chose not to join the groups queuing up to touch one of them being of the firm opinion that these boys are just too hard to mess about with.
A nap, dinner of fresh barbequed snapper in a seafront restaurant and back to the old Oasis haunt for a final evening of fun and games with the Rasta boys. I also got the chance to catch up with Johnny again and we all spent the night back in the Panafest… shots, beers, 7.5% bottled Guinness… the recipe for another late night.
Sunday 2nd August
In a moment of madness Duncan, Becky and I agreed to meet King Bobo on the beach for a morning workout at 8.30, so we dragged ourselves from our slumber and spent an hour or so running on the beach and performing various contortions, stretches and exercises under the King’s instruction, followed with a refreshing dip in the sea. Apparently the King trains people up to five times a day on Accra beach – no wonder there’s not an ounce of fat on his body as I was shattered afterwards, although three consecutive late, boozy nights probably weren’t the ideal preparation.
After that we set about traveling back to Kumasi and managed to get a seat on the Mass Metro bus – a budget alternative to the usual STC coaches. I now know why it so cheap (4 cedis ride instead of ten). Crushed into the middle of a ‘3 man’ seat next to a woman with a stereotypically huge African backside, with Bridie on the isle seat the journey was hot and uncomfortable. Already tired and a little hungover, four hours of bumping along left me more than a little grouchy!
But still a fantastic weekend, where I go the chance to meet some brilliant characters.
Monday 3rd August
A nervous Small Paul was clearly working up to something in our Monday meeting this morning, and in his roundabout way he finally got round to broaching the subject of funding for Tiyah. As a fairly recently created NGO they’re very short of cash for their projects (both the one here in Kumasi, and the two programmes in the North). As well as kitting out the office here, which is basic to say the least and funding the community work that we deliver, both Paul and Ahmed work for Tiyah with no recompense.
There are some obvious things that we can do to help, but all of us volunteers are in a similar position – we’d love to be able to help more, but are all having to fund our trips here whilst not working back at home, so the riches just aren’t there for all the will in the World.
I think for me it will be about the little things I can do while here, including seeing if I can help with appeals for funds/grants elsewhere, then seeing what my position is when I finish… although with no job to return to I can’t afford to be too generous. Maybe some ongoing funding work from back in the UK is the answer.
This week should be fun, we’re going to be teaching correct condom use in the communities, so Small Paul and I visited the National Cultural Centre to buy two black wooden penises as props (I guess they’re used as some kind of fertility symbol) – we opted for large rather than extra large. Not an uncomfortable experience at all then.
Tuesday 4th August
Paul showed once again the capacity to surprise today when he admitted, a little sheepishly, that he believes it’s possible for HIV to be transmitted spiritually. It demonstrated once again how far we have to come when an educated, articulate and religious man like Paul still believes this hogwash…and he’s one of the people supposed to be educating about HIV. A bit scary really.
We had a very entertaining session in Barekese this morning, breaking out the wooden penises in a ladies hair salon to demonstrate condom use. Lots of girly giggling, and I let Laura and Bridie take the lead, but to be fair the girls in the hairdressers weren’t too shy at getting involved.
Otherwise we had two other very good community presentations – which is pretty much all we’re able to do at the moment while the schools are still on vacation – which incidentally also has the knock on effect that any time we pitch up to deliver a presentation in the street we’re instantly surrounded by kids out to see the Obronis.
Result at dinner tonight – dinner wasn’t tomato sauce, so took advantage and stocked piled with two massive rice balls to go with the spicy peanut soup and beef.
Wednesday 5th August
Johnny was in Kumasi on his travels today, so met up with him, his director Mr Aziz and Kumasi guide Jacob at Vic Baboos – having traveled into town with Big Paul. As always in the travelers’ haven I bumped into someone I knew – Beth from Wales, and Eva a Dutch girl from our orientation week were already there when I arrived.
We all spent a happy few hours blowing the froth off a couple of Stars and catching up on life in Ghana in general. It’s good to talk to people sharing the same experience from the same perspective.
Mr Aziz seems like a good man, and his volunteer projects throughout Ghana an interesting option – missing out on the middlemen (SYTO/Bunac) so saving a fair bit of money in the process. We’re all planning to meet up and visit the Ashanti King’s Palace tomorrow afternoon.
While in town I also dropped into the supermarket to pick up some treats from home; Kioara squash and a tiny jar of Marmite for 7.50 cedi – very expensive, but worth it for a taste of England.
When I got back I found my ‘whites’ wash which I’d left soaking to try and get something other than dirty brown had been cleaned to an alabaster sparkle and hung up to dry. Either our friendly neighbour student Kwame took pity on me, or I’ve discovered a new kind of voodoo.
Community work in Adankwame this morning on basic HIV/AIDS information – we had been planning to get the penises out again, but there were just too many kids milling around, so felt it just wasn’t appropriate. There might be a tough session on Friday, one of the men I was talking to with Small Paul wants to come and see us for a 1-2-1 session – he’s clearly got a few worries, so we’ll see what happens.
Not sure what tomorrow holds, we’re due to visit one of the local hospitals, but found out today that our contact there has been fired. Cest La Vie in Ghana.
Thursday 6th July
I was vaguely aware that I’d be traveling to Ghana in the ‘rainy season’ but didn’t in truth think much of it. After all it’s still Africa, right? Well the last couple of weeks haven’t been especially hot, and it’s rained on or off at least every other day – not what I was really expecting.
Until this evening today was a bit of a non-event – our planned hospital visit was cancelled and my plans to get some office admin were hindered by the hoards of kids that descend on the office as soon as unlock the door. It’s like a treasure trove in there for them, they can’t resist getting their hands on anything and everything which makes it a mission to get anything achieved.
After giving up on that the afternoon was mainly spent at a loose end in the compound dodging the showers and prepping for the radio session this evening (the one postponed from last week).
By this stage all three of us know the topic and our lines off by heart so I was pretty relaxed about the whole thing. The radio station in Achiase is in effect a huge loud speaker system supported by a ramshackle studio, reminiscent of the service radio station set up in M*A*S*H. The benefit being that with the speaker turned up full blast everyone in the village has little option but to listen.
We had an hour booked from 7.30, so ran through the usual material with translations from Paul and Ahmed, and then fielded a few questions texted in at the end. At one stage we needed a little padding to get through the time and Ahmed went into overdrive – I’ve no idea what he was saying, but it sounded great, and was delivered with genuine passion. All things considered I think it was a successful session.
Bridie and Laura are off to Green Turtle Lodge (a popular tourist beach resort) early tomorrow morning, so I should have the compound to myself this weekend – I’m quite looking forward to it.
Friday 7th August
A quiet start to the day with the girls off on their travels at the crack of dawn, and with no specific programme I took it on myself to plough through a bit of admin in the office – and finally managed to get a fair bit done before the kids cottoned on to my presence… although the office computer switching itself off on a regular basis was infuriating.
Spent another hour twiddling my thumbs later in the office when the private meeting I’d scheduled with the man from Adankwame didn’t materialise, tediously predictable, but both Small Paul and the guest were no-shows. That’s just the way in Ghana, and I need to try and be philosophical and roll with it – but it’s frustrating when people won’t help us to help them.
A friend from the village has shown a particularly keen eye for a business opportunity opening a fried rice stall 30 seconds walk from our house, so I tucked into a large bagful of delicious fried rice, chicken and spicy pepper sauce for lunch - think he’s found himself a regular customer.
Then in the evening I headed into Bantama for a night on the strip with Beth and the Dutch girls Eva, Annalot and Anouk. Sitting at the roadside bar it was left to Beth and I to keep the British end up – the three Dutch girls managed one beer between them all night. Safe to say Beth and I managed to shift a few more than that. The four of them are off traveling next week and have a military minute by minute schedule to stick to, along with that, the tedious debates over each cedi spent and the lack of drinking action I’m not sure how much fun Beth’s going to have…
The bars in Bantama operate an interesting toilet policy in that they just don’t appear to have them, instead when nature called we had to make a five minute walk to a paid bathroom down the road. No wonder so many people (men, children and even women) end up urinating in the streetside gutters!
After the dramas of the previous evening we made a bit of a later start to the day than planned, but set off for Kakum National Park, where the main attraction is the suspended canapé rope walkway – 40 meters high through the trees in the dense Ghanaian rainforest.
It’s a real tourist trap, but well worth a visit for a unique perspective on the sights and sounds of the forest, the rope walkways have a tendency to swing alarmingly and creak from time to time, leaving those without a head for heights somewhat perturbed.
We also took up the option of a one hour guided walk through the forest – in hindsight perhaps flip-flops weren’t the most appropriate footwear – where we so little or no wildlife, although our guide was able to point out notable trees, including some humungous centuries old cotton trees with a base the size of an average house.
On the way back to Cape Coast we stopped off at Hans Cottage Botel, another tourist must see, that features a restaurant built over a small lake housing many fish, birds, and most notably fresh water crocodiles. Enjoying lunch less than ten yards from a basking croc was a new experience for me, although I chose not to join the groups queuing up to touch one of them being of the firm opinion that these boys are just too hard to mess about with.
A nap, dinner of fresh barbequed snapper in a seafront restaurant and back to the old Oasis haunt for a final evening of fun and games with the Rasta boys. I also got the chance to catch up with Johnny again and we all spent the night back in the Panafest… shots, beers, 7.5% bottled Guinness… the recipe for another late night.
Sunday 2nd August
In a moment of madness Duncan, Becky and I agreed to meet King Bobo on the beach for a morning workout at 8.30, so we dragged ourselves from our slumber and spent an hour or so running on the beach and performing various contortions, stretches and exercises under the King’s instruction, followed with a refreshing dip in the sea. Apparently the King trains people up to five times a day on Accra beach – no wonder there’s not an ounce of fat on his body as I was shattered afterwards, although three consecutive late, boozy nights probably weren’t the ideal preparation.
After that we set about traveling back to Kumasi and managed to get a seat on the Mass Metro bus – a budget alternative to the usual STC coaches. I now know why it so cheap (4 cedis ride instead of ten). Crushed into the middle of a ‘3 man’ seat next to a woman with a stereotypically huge African backside, with Bridie on the isle seat the journey was hot and uncomfortable. Already tired and a little hungover, four hours of bumping along left me more than a little grouchy!
But still a fantastic weekend, where I go the chance to meet some brilliant characters.
Monday 3rd August
A nervous Small Paul was clearly working up to something in our Monday meeting this morning, and in his roundabout way he finally got round to broaching the subject of funding for Tiyah. As a fairly recently created NGO they’re very short of cash for their projects (both the one here in Kumasi, and the two programmes in the North). As well as kitting out the office here, which is basic to say the least and funding the community work that we deliver, both Paul and Ahmed work for Tiyah with no recompense.
There are some obvious things that we can do to help, but all of us volunteers are in a similar position – we’d love to be able to help more, but are all having to fund our trips here whilst not working back at home, so the riches just aren’t there for all the will in the World.
I think for me it will be about the little things I can do while here, including seeing if I can help with appeals for funds/grants elsewhere, then seeing what my position is when I finish… although with no job to return to I can’t afford to be too generous. Maybe some ongoing funding work from back in the UK is the answer.
This week should be fun, we’re going to be teaching correct condom use in the communities, so Small Paul and I visited the National Cultural Centre to buy two black wooden penises as props (I guess they’re used as some kind of fertility symbol) – we opted for large rather than extra large. Not an uncomfortable experience at all then.
Tuesday 4th August
Paul showed once again the capacity to surprise today when he admitted, a little sheepishly, that he believes it’s possible for HIV to be transmitted spiritually. It demonstrated once again how far we have to come when an educated, articulate and religious man like Paul still believes this hogwash…and he’s one of the people supposed to be educating about HIV. A bit scary really.
We had a very entertaining session in Barekese this morning, breaking out the wooden penises in a ladies hair salon to demonstrate condom use. Lots of girly giggling, and I let Laura and Bridie take the lead, but to be fair the girls in the hairdressers weren’t too shy at getting involved.
Otherwise we had two other very good community presentations – which is pretty much all we’re able to do at the moment while the schools are still on vacation – which incidentally also has the knock on effect that any time we pitch up to deliver a presentation in the street we’re instantly surrounded by kids out to see the Obronis.
Result at dinner tonight – dinner wasn’t tomato sauce, so took advantage and stocked piled with two massive rice balls to go with the spicy peanut soup and beef.
Wednesday 5th August
Johnny was in Kumasi on his travels today, so met up with him, his director Mr Aziz and Kumasi guide Jacob at Vic Baboos – having traveled into town with Big Paul. As always in the travelers’ haven I bumped into someone I knew – Beth from Wales, and Eva a Dutch girl from our orientation week were already there when I arrived.
We all spent a happy few hours blowing the froth off a couple of Stars and catching up on life in Ghana in general. It’s good to talk to people sharing the same experience from the same perspective.
Mr Aziz seems like a good man, and his volunteer projects throughout Ghana an interesting option – missing out on the middlemen (SYTO/Bunac) so saving a fair bit of money in the process. We’re all planning to meet up and visit the Ashanti King’s Palace tomorrow afternoon.
While in town I also dropped into the supermarket to pick up some treats from home; Kioara squash and a tiny jar of Marmite for 7.50 cedi – very expensive, but worth it for a taste of England.
When I got back I found my ‘whites’ wash which I’d left soaking to try and get something other than dirty brown had been cleaned to an alabaster sparkle and hung up to dry. Either our friendly neighbour student Kwame took pity on me, or I’ve discovered a new kind of voodoo.
Community work in Adankwame this morning on basic HIV/AIDS information – we had been planning to get the penises out again, but there were just too many kids milling around, so felt it just wasn’t appropriate. There might be a tough session on Friday, one of the men I was talking to with Small Paul wants to come and see us for a 1-2-1 session – he’s clearly got a few worries, so we’ll see what happens.
Not sure what tomorrow holds, we’re due to visit one of the local hospitals, but found out today that our contact there has been fired. Cest La Vie in Ghana.
Thursday 6th July
I was vaguely aware that I’d be traveling to Ghana in the ‘rainy season’ but didn’t in truth think much of it. After all it’s still Africa, right? Well the last couple of weeks haven’t been especially hot, and it’s rained on or off at least every other day – not what I was really expecting.
Until this evening today was a bit of a non-event – our planned hospital visit was cancelled and my plans to get some office admin were hindered by the hoards of kids that descend on the office as soon as unlock the door. It’s like a treasure trove in there for them, they can’t resist getting their hands on anything and everything which makes it a mission to get anything achieved.
After giving up on that the afternoon was mainly spent at a loose end in the compound dodging the showers and prepping for the radio session this evening (the one postponed from last week).
By this stage all three of us know the topic and our lines off by heart so I was pretty relaxed about the whole thing. The radio station in Achiase is in effect a huge loud speaker system supported by a ramshackle studio, reminiscent of the service radio station set up in M*A*S*H. The benefit being that with the speaker turned up full blast everyone in the village has little option but to listen.
We had an hour booked from 7.30, so ran through the usual material with translations from Paul and Ahmed, and then fielded a few questions texted in at the end. At one stage we needed a little padding to get through the time and Ahmed went into overdrive – I’ve no idea what he was saying, but it sounded great, and was delivered with genuine passion. All things considered I think it was a successful session.
Bridie and Laura are off to Green Turtle Lodge (a popular tourist beach resort) early tomorrow morning, so I should have the compound to myself this weekend – I’m quite looking forward to it.
Friday 7th August
A quiet start to the day with the girls off on their travels at the crack of dawn, and with no specific programme I took it on myself to plough through a bit of admin in the office – and finally managed to get a fair bit done before the kids cottoned on to my presence… although the office computer switching itself off on a regular basis was infuriating.
Spent another hour twiddling my thumbs later in the office when the private meeting I’d scheduled with the man from Adankwame didn’t materialise, tediously predictable, but both Small Paul and the guest were no-shows. That’s just the way in Ghana, and I need to try and be philosophical and roll with it – but it’s frustrating when people won’t help us to help them.
A friend from the village has shown a particularly keen eye for a business opportunity opening a fried rice stall 30 seconds walk from our house, so I tucked into a large bagful of delicious fried rice, chicken and spicy pepper sauce for lunch - think he’s found himself a regular customer.
Then in the evening I headed into Bantama for a night on the strip with Beth and the Dutch girls Eva, Annalot and Anouk. Sitting at the roadside bar it was left to Beth and I to keep the British end up – the three Dutch girls managed one beer between them all night. Safe to say Beth and I managed to shift a few more than that. The four of them are off traveling next week and have a military minute by minute schedule to stick to, along with that, the tedious debates over each cedi spent and the lack of drinking action I’m not sure how much fun Beth’s going to have…
The bars in Bantama operate an interesting toilet policy in that they just don’t appear to have them, instead when nature called we had to make a five minute walk to a paid bathroom down the road. No wonder so many people (men, children and even women) end up urinating in the streetside gutters!
Wednesday 19 August 2009
Week Four
Saturday 25th July
Woke up with a hangover. Not a real stinker, all-day-in-bed, hurts to move your eyelids type of hangover, but I definitely felt like I’d had a drink, and in a way that gentle headache was welcome because it meant I’d had a good evening out. I’d missed just going out to the pub and getting slowly tipsy. Happy Days.
I still did my Saturday duty and attended the optional weekly meeting with Helen, Ahmed and Small Paul, although to be honest, we didn’t get that much achieved. We are though sending letters to all of the local churches to offer our services. .. Which made me realize just how many various places of worship there are in Achiase – it’s like the ‘People’s Front of Judea’ scene from A Life of Brian.
Spent the afternoon in Kumasi with Laura and Bridie – internet & lunch in Vic Baboos, which was fairly standard until a fight broke out between two Indian men on the table next to us. I’ve no idea what it was about, but there were raised voices, then a scuffle, and punches thrown. Both men were in their 30s, one skinny, the other fat (think Bal vs. Roop for those in the know – sorry Vohra, you got dominated this time). Never a dull moment.
We bumped into Enoch on the trotro on the way home who was carrying a live rooster which he’d been sent to collect – the family’s lunch for tomorrow – just one of the unusual sights that are becoming second nature now.
Sunday 26th July
Took the Sunday, day of rest, mantra to heart today and did very little indeed. It was extra quiet at the compound as all of the Jehovah Witnesses were off at a God convention in central Kumasi (including Big Paul & Theresa, as well as the whole of Bernice / Ahmed’s family).
Ended the day with a bit of a sad and uncomfortable conversation with Big Paul who showed something of a new side to himself and opened his heart about his problems with Theresa to me… I listened, but didn’t really know what to say in response, although I suppose it’s nice that he feels he can confide in me…
Monday 27th July
We’ve been warned several times, both before setting off, and on arrival in Ghana that we can all expect to feel sick at times, especially early on in our stay, as our bodies get used to the change in conditions. And I’m pretty much expecting to get hit with malaria at some stage (some people I speak to claim to have had malaria multiple times, although given the tendency for doctors to treat anything more than a sneeze upwards as malaria ‘just in case’ I’m sceptical about the authenticity of many of these cases).
That said I managed to convince myself in the middle of the night last night that I’d come down with the disease. I was hit by a strong fever – one minute boiling hot, the next shivering with the cold – plus some interesting visits to the bathroom, and constantly feeling only a couple of breaths away from vomiting.
After a fitful night’s sleep, I woke up ready to drag my sorry behind to the hospital, but actually felt a little better so decided to ride it out and see what happened. In the end I slept most of the day, missing work but getting up in time to force some dinner down my neck, finally getting back to sleep feeling washed out but a lot more like myself.
Tuesday 28th July
Feeling much better today, I woke up slightly weak, but put that down to hardly haven eaten the day before. I decided that since it clearly wasn’t malaria and that I was feeling pretty much back to full health, to put the episode down to a bug of some sort. Not that surprising really given the hygiene levels here (which isn’t something that I’m used to complaining about), but with the propensity of flies around the food, and the questionable cleanliness of the kids – who you see handling ‘rabid’ dogs, playing in the dirt, or relieving themselves by the street seconds before running up to you for a big hug, hold hands, or worse help you with your plate – even the most diligent are going to get hit from time to time.
It’s partly being an Obroni I’m sure, but as soon as you’re ill here the entire community rallies round – I imagine like pre-war Britain. I was visited yesterday by Small Paul, Eugene, Big Paul, Helen and Fresh – all to see how I was, if I needed anything, and to persuade me to go to the hospital. It’s very nice to be cared about, but sometimes when you’re ill and trying to sleep it all gets a bit much.
Today we visited Amoumang, where we managed one community presentation to around twenty locals before calling on a friend to drink Pito (a maize based wine). We soon found ourselves getting through large calabashes of wine with the local Roman Catholic priest Eugene, despite it being only 10.30 in the morning. The quite un-priestly Eugene got himself to quote ‘a little bit tipsy’ which was very funny to watch, and lengthened the walk back to Achiase considerably.
I popped into the SYTO office to see Helen who was submitting an application form for a child support grant for the Tiyah project in Northern Ghana, and was pleased to be able to help correct the spelling and grammar, which was a bit of a shocker. Think I’ve found another area in which I can offer a bit of ‘added value’.
Wednesday 29th July
A slightly stressful day socially, and at Tiyah. I’ve kind of taken on the mantle of coordinating all of the travel arrangements for our trip to the Cape Coast starting tomorrow, which has been complicated no end by the only available bus leaving at 4.00 in the morning.
Somehow end up with Stacey and Becky staying with us, and having to arrange with the bus driver to pick up Duncan on the way through… lots of questions come my way that I really don’t have the answer to, but we got there in the end.
With Tiyah we were due to appear on the local Achiase ‘radio’ station tonight, but a bit of a breakdown in communications between Small Paul and Ahmed meant we didn’t give the presentation after all, which in turn led to a falling out between the two. Ahmed had set up the radio session and wanted us to go ahead, while Paul felt that we weren’t prepared enough – which considering we were talking through exactly the same topic areas as we’ve been delivering every day was way too cautious. All this was had out in raised, fast Twi whilst we all sat around like lemons and waited for them to sort themselves out.
With the tension in the air, maybe it’s for the best that we’re getting away from it for a few days in the Cape Coast – 3.00AM taxi ride awaits…
Thursday 30th July
What a day. Hard to know where to start. How can you be standing at a bar in a little know music festival in a medium sized Ghana town, and just bump into someone you know from London? Crazy, small world.
I know Johnny Fozard from three months freelance work at Exposure around 18 months ago, and then he turned up at the Cape Coast Panafest today – teaching and volunteering in the summer before resuming a law conversion course – and apparently we even flew over on the very sane flight!
The day started with our early morning bus ride meaning we hit the Cape Coast at about 7.30, when we discovered that we’d managed to coincide our visit with a music festival, Panafest which is linked into Ghana’s Emancipation Day celebrations and only takes place once every two years. An added bonus.
Cape Coast is a smallish town on the southern coast of Ghana which is quite well equipped for the tourist market with several beach resorts, guesthouses and sea-front restaurants. But the main focus here, and my main reason for wanting to travel is Cape Coast Castle – a large European built fort that was the main port of transit for the British slave trade out of West Africa (it was also the only place other than Accra that Obama came to in Ghana).
We did the tour of the World Heritage Site in the afternoon, and while it’s not something that you exactly ‘enjoy’, more endure, but it’s a very important place to visit sobering, harrowing and fascinating all at the same time. Emotionally it’s probably similar experience to visiting somewhere like Auschwitz in that it brought the full horror of the atrocities committed here to life in a way that no book or TV documentary ever can.
The numbers vary, but it’s believed that at least a couple of million slaves passed through Cape Coast Castle under British colonial rule, and it was probably most harrowing standing in a dungeon roughly the size of a tennis court with virtually no light or ventilation and be told this room housed 250 slaves for up to three months at a time – that’s eating, sleeping, urinating, vomiting – everything, until those that survived passed through the ‘door of no return’ and on to a fate of slavery in the new world. Symbolically two descendants of slaves recently became the first people to pass back through the door – renaming it the ‘door of return’.
In a bitter irony obviously not appreciated at the time, the Brits built their church – their place of worship – directly above the male dungeon… All in all the tour brought out expected feelings of horror and guilt – especially for the Brits in the party. It makes me feel even more humbled by the welcome we get here in Ghana as Brits. I for one wouldn’t blame them for much stronger feelings of bitterness and aggression.
While the rest of us were at the castle, Becky and Stacey stayed by the beach at the Oasis resort, making friends with some of the performers from the festival including King Bobo, X-Man and Skippy – dancers, singers and acrobats. King Bobo then hosted us into the festival, which was set up much like similar gigs in the UK; one big stage, with stalls, bars and fast food outlets scattered around. So we sank a couple of Stars and watched the various performances until King Bobo and his team of acrobats came on. They were nothing less than sensational, building all manner of human pyramids, performing outrageous flips and eating fire.
It was after that I bumped into Johnny at the bar, similarly to me, he was surrounded by locals plying him with shots of the rough local drink Bitters. High on excitement, the next few hours were spent in a haze, keeping up with the Ghanaians in the Bitters, and catching up. Steaming drunk I eventually crawled home and into bed at 3.30 – by far the latest and largest night in Ghana to date.
Friday 31st July
After the previous night’s escapades it was a bit of a slow start to the day, involving swapping hotel for a cheaper option and a hair of the dog over lunch at a rooftop guesthouse bar. We then took a trip to Elmina, the next town along the coast – the site of another slave fortress, although this one was used mainly by the Dutch and Portuguese.
It’s churlish to say, but after Cape Coast yesterday, the conditions whilst barbaric weren’t quite as horrific so the impact was lessened ever so slightly. Becky, who didn’t visit Cape Coast yesterday because of her claustrophobia did venture in this time and was rewarded with a panic attack when our guide locked us into the pitch black of the condemned slaves dungeon, then took his time to let us out again. Still not really our place to complain eh?
We followed this up with a quick stroll around Elmina’s busy fishing port and market, although the general atmosphere didn’t feel as welcoming as everywhere else I’ve been.
In the evening we went back to the Oasis resort and spent the night drinking and chatting. Again we were with King Bobo and the various other friends we’d made the previous evening. The more time spent with the King as he shall be known, the cooler this man gets. A true Rastafarian, he is also the chief in his village (hence ‘king’), he and his troop are the dance champions of Africa, and he’s a genuinely lovely man to boot. So quite why he seems to love hanging out with a white students from England is beyond me. Anyway, we’re already making plans to hook up again in Accra.
A very entertaining night rolled on with singing, dancing on tables, downing whisky and general frivolity into the small hours. We rolled back to our hostel at around 2.00AM after a fantastic night, and no doubt slightly off of our general guard. With most of the group further ahead and just about to reach the hotel two men came running out of nowhere, ran past Bridie and snatched her bag away, pushing her to the ground in the process. I gave chase, but starting from behind, and wearing only flip-flops it was a forlorn hope and they were gone in a trice.
Bridie lost her phone, a little cash and most upsettingly of all her camera with all the photos of her time in Ghana – as well as Laura’s phone, and was obviously extremely upset by the whole incident which tarnished an otherwise great day. I guess all she can do now is try not to let it hit her confidence going out and about, and we all need to be a bit more aware of our surroundings. Ghana has been such a friendly country so far it came as a huge shock.
Woke up with a hangover. Not a real stinker, all-day-in-bed, hurts to move your eyelids type of hangover, but I definitely felt like I’d had a drink, and in a way that gentle headache was welcome because it meant I’d had a good evening out. I’d missed just going out to the pub and getting slowly tipsy. Happy Days.
I still did my Saturday duty and attended the optional weekly meeting with Helen, Ahmed and Small Paul, although to be honest, we didn’t get that much achieved. We are though sending letters to all of the local churches to offer our services. .. Which made me realize just how many various places of worship there are in Achiase – it’s like the ‘People’s Front of Judea’ scene from A Life of Brian.
Spent the afternoon in Kumasi with Laura and Bridie – internet & lunch in Vic Baboos, which was fairly standard until a fight broke out between two Indian men on the table next to us. I’ve no idea what it was about, but there were raised voices, then a scuffle, and punches thrown. Both men were in their 30s, one skinny, the other fat (think Bal vs. Roop for those in the know – sorry Vohra, you got dominated this time). Never a dull moment.
We bumped into Enoch on the trotro on the way home who was carrying a live rooster which he’d been sent to collect – the family’s lunch for tomorrow – just one of the unusual sights that are becoming second nature now.
Sunday 26th July
Took the Sunday, day of rest, mantra to heart today and did very little indeed. It was extra quiet at the compound as all of the Jehovah Witnesses were off at a God convention in central Kumasi (including Big Paul & Theresa, as well as the whole of Bernice / Ahmed’s family).
Ended the day with a bit of a sad and uncomfortable conversation with Big Paul who showed something of a new side to himself and opened his heart about his problems with Theresa to me… I listened, but didn’t really know what to say in response, although I suppose it’s nice that he feels he can confide in me…
Monday 27th July
We’ve been warned several times, both before setting off, and on arrival in Ghana that we can all expect to feel sick at times, especially early on in our stay, as our bodies get used to the change in conditions. And I’m pretty much expecting to get hit with malaria at some stage (some people I speak to claim to have had malaria multiple times, although given the tendency for doctors to treat anything more than a sneeze upwards as malaria ‘just in case’ I’m sceptical about the authenticity of many of these cases).
That said I managed to convince myself in the middle of the night last night that I’d come down with the disease. I was hit by a strong fever – one minute boiling hot, the next shivering with the cold – plus some interesting visits to the bathroom, and constantly feeling only a couple of breaths away from vomiting.
After a fitful night’s sleep, I woke up ready to drag my sorry behind to the hospital, but actually felt a little better so decided to ride it out and see what happened. In the end I slept most of the day, missing work but getting up in time to force some dinner down my neck, finally getting back to sleep feeling washed out but a lot more like myself.
Tuesday 28th July
Feeling much better today, I woke up slightly weak, but put that down to hardly haven eaten the day before. I decided that since it clearly wasn’t malaria and that I was feeling pretty much back to full health, to put the episode down to a bug of some sort. Not that surprising really given the hygiene levels here (which isn’t something that I’m used to complaining about), but with the propensity of flies around the food, and the questionable cleanliness of the kids – who you see handling ‘rabid’ dogs, playing in the dirt, or relieving themselves by the street seconds before running up to you for a big hug, hold hands, or worse help you with your plate – even the most diligent are going to get hit from time to time.
It’s partly being an Obroni I’m sure, but as soon as you’re ill here the entire community rallies round – I imagine like pre-war Britain. I was visited yesterday by Small Paul, Eugene, Big Paul, Helen and Fresh – all to see how I was, if I needed anything, and to persuade me to go to the hospital. It’s very nice to be cared about, but sometimes when you’re ill and trying to sleep it all gets a bit much.
Today we visited Amoumang, where we managed one community presentation to around twenty locals before calling on a friend to drink Pito (a maize based wine). We soon found ourselves getting through large calabashes of wine with the local Roman Catholic priest Eugene, despite it being only 10.30 in the morning. The quite un-priestly Eugene got himself to quote ‘a little bit tipsy’ which was very funny to watch, and lengthened the walk back to Achiase considerably.
I popped into the SYTO office to see Helen who was submitting an application form for a child support grant for the Tiyah project in Northern Ghana, and was pleased to be able to help correct the spelling and grammar, which was a bit of a shocker. Think I’ve found another area in which I can offer a bit of ‘added value’.
Wednesday 29th July
A slightly stressful day socially, and at Tiyah. I’ve kind of taken on the mantle of coordinating all of the travel arrangements for our trip to the Cape Coast starting tomorrow, which has been complicated no end by the only available bus leaving at 4.00 in the morning.
Somehow end up with Stacey and Becky staying with us, and having to arrange with the bus driver to pick up Duncan on the way through… lots of questions come my way that I really don’t have the answer to, but we got there in the end.
With Tiyah we were due to appear on the local Achiase ‘radio’ station tonight, but a bit of a breakdown in communications between Small Paul and Ahmed meant we didn’t give the presentation after all, which in turn led to a falling out between the two. Ahmed had set up the radio session and wanted us to go ahead, while Paul felt that we weren’t prepared enough – which considering we were talking through exactly the same topic areas as we’ve been delivering every day was way too cautious. All this was had out in raised, fast Twi whilst we all sat around like lemons and waited for them to sort themselves out.
With the tension in the air, maybe it’s for the best that we’re getting away from it for a few days in the Cape Coast – 3.00AM taxi ride awaits…
Thursday 30th July
What a day. Hard to know where to start. How can you be standing at a bar in a little know music festival in a medium sized Ghana town, and just bump into someone you know from London? Crazy, small world.
I know Johnny Fozard from three months freelance work at Exposure around 18 months ago, and then he turned up at the Cape Coast Panafest today – teaching and volunteering in the summer before resuming a law conversion course – and apparently we even flew over on the very sane flight!
The day started with our early morning bus ride meaning we hit the Cape Coast at about 7.30, when we discovered that we’d managed to coincide our visit with a music festival, Panafest which is linked into Ghana’s Emancipation Day celebrations and only takes place once every two years. An added bonus.
Cape Coast is a smallish town on the southern coast of Ghana which is quite well equipped for the tourist market with several beach resorts, guesthouses and sea-front restaurants. But the main focus here, and my main reason for wanting to travel is Cape Coast Castle – a large European built fort that was the main port of transit for the British slave trade out of West Africa (it was also the only place other than Accra that Obama came to in Ghana).
We did the tour of the World Heritage Site in the afternoon, and while it’s not something that you exactly ‘enjoy’, more endure, but it’s a very important place to visit sobering, harrowing and fascinating all at the same time. Emotionally it’s probably similar experience to visiting somewhere like Auschwitz in that it brought the full horror of the atrocities committed here to life in a way that no book or TV documentary ever can.
The numbers vary, but it’s believed that at least a couple of million slaves passed through Cape Coast Castle under British colonial rule, and it was probably most harrowing standing in a dungeon roughly the size of a tennis court with virtually no light or ventilation and be told this room housed 250 slaves for up to three months at a time – that’s eating, sleeping, urinating, vomiting – everything, until those that survived passed through the ‘door of no return’ and on to a fate of slavery in the new world. Symbolically two descendants of slaves recently became the first people to pass back through the door – renaming it the ‘door of return’.
In a bitter irony obviously not appreciated at the time, the Brits built their church – their place of worship – directly above the male dungeon… All in all the tour brought out expected feelings of horror and guilt – especially for the Brits in the party. It makes me feel even more humbled by the welcome we get here in Ghana as Brits. I for one wouldn’t blame them for much stronger feelings of bitterness and aggression.
While the rest of us were at the castle, Becky and Stacey stayed by the beach at the Oasis resort, making friends with some of the performers from the festival including King Bobo, X-Man and Skippy – dancers, singers and acrobats. King Bobo then hosted us into the festival, which was set up much like similar gigs in the UK; one big stage, with stalls, bars and fast food outlets scattered around. So we sank a couple of Stars and watched the various performances until King Bobo and his team of acrobats came on. They were nothing less than sensational, building all manner of human pyramids, performing outrageous flips and eating fire.
It was after that I bumped into Johnny at the bar, similarly to me, he was surrounded by locals plying him with shots of the rough local drink Bitters. High on excitement, the next few hours were spent in a haze, keeping up with the Ghanaians in the Bitters, and catching up. Steaming drunk I eventually crawled home and into bed at 3.30 – by far the latest and largest night in Ghana to date.
Friday 31st July
After the previous night’s escapades it was a bit of a slow start to the day, involving swapping hotel for a cheaper option and a hair of the dog over lunch at a rooftop guesthouse bar. We then took a trip to Elmina, the next town along the coast – the site of another slave fortress, although this one was used mainly by the Dutch and Portuguese.
It’s churlish to say, but after Cape Coast yesterday, the conditions whilst barbaric weren’t quite as horrific so the impact was lessened ever so slightly. Becky, who didn’t visit Cape Coast yesterday because of her claustrophobia did venture in this time and was rewarded with a panic attack when our guide locked us into the pitch black of the condemned slaves dungeon, then took his time to let us out again. Still not really our place to complain eh?
We followed this up with a quick stroll around Elmina’s busy fishing port and market, although the general atmosphere didn’t feel as welcoming as everywhere else I’ve been.
In the evening we went back to the Oasis resort and spent the night drinking and chatting. Again we were with King Bobo and the various other friends we’d made the previous evening. The more time spent with the King as he shall be known, the cooler this man gets. A true Rastafarian, he is also the chief in his village (hence ‘king’), he and his troop are the dance champions of Africa, and he’s a genuinely lovely man to boot. So quite why he seems to love hanging out with a white students from England is beyond me. Anyway, we’re already making plans to hook up again in Accra.
A very entertaining night rolled on with singing, dancing on tables, downing whisky and general frivolity into the small hours. We rolled back to our hostel at around 2.00AM after a fantastic night, and no doubt slightly off of our general guard. With most of the group further ahead and just about to reach the hotel two men came running out of nowhere, ran past Bridie and snatched her bag away, pushing her to the ground in the process. I gave chase, but starting from behind, and wearing only flip-flops it was a forlorn hope and they were gone in a trice.
Bridie lost her phone, a little cash and most upsettingly of all her camera with all the photos of her time in Ghana – as well as Laura’s phone, and was obviously extremely upset by the whole incident which tarnished an otherwise great day. I guess all she can do now is try not to let it hit her confidence going out and about, and we all need to be a bit more aware of our surroundings. Ghana has been such a friendly country so far it came as a huge shock.
Monday 10 August 2009
Week Three
Sunday 19th July
Quite a full weekend, with a visit to the nearby beauty spot, Lake Bosumtwi, followed by an end of season Premier League game of football.
The weekend started in a typically unexpected fashion – as I’m beginning to get used to in Ghana. We met in the morning to paint the sign for Tiyah on the outside of the office, when a taxi pulled up outside the building with its engine smoking dramatically – the driver popped the bonnet to sure enough find his engine in flames. Out of nowhere eight or so guys appeared to help, and began throwing handfuls of soil onto the fire, naturally enough I got involved as well and between us we managed to tame the damage until a fire extinguishers was produced from the barbers to quell the flames.
There followed a slightly stressful couple of hours trying to meet up with our fellow travellers in Kumasi and moving on to the lake, which was less than an hour away from the centre, but still involved two tros and a taxi ride.
It was worth it when we arrived though, Bosumtwi is the largest natural lake in Ghana at seven miles across and is thought to have been created by a meteor strike. Set in lush green countryside and mountains it felt like a million miles away from downtown Kumasi rather than about 30ks.
After a couple of weeks roughing it, the resort we chose came as an absolute luxury, although it wasn’t too expensive. Lake Point resort is made up of individual huts built onto a hillside and with a private ‘beach’ out front. After what we’ve been getting used to they were a real treat. It was also good to catch up with the other Brits from our orientation week, and enjoy a bit of chat in English, although unfortunately some of the younger guys aren’t quite loving their placements as much as we are.
A few Gulders later and Duncan made a triumphant entry, escorted into the hotel by two armed policemen who had been officiating at the sports tournament D had been attending all week. With a big entrance, and a group of impressed Obroni girls to show off to, the cops got quite excited and enjoyed being the centre of attention and posing for pictures. Felt really relaxed for the first time in a while that evening, staying up late and sinking a few cold beers.
On Saturday we spent a couple of hours lounging by the lakeside, and pretty soon most of us agreed another night at the lodge was in order – but taking the cheaper option and staying in a dorm this time. After a short stroll the rest of the afternoon was spent lounging around and I worked on my first bout of African sunburn.
The lodge was fantastic, but the shine was taken off a little by the Basil Fawlty-esque Austrian owner – a large lady with a face like a big of spanners, and a permanent attitude. She managed to embarrass all of by accusing the sweet girl who waitressed and ran the bar of stealing form her in front of all of us. I don’t know how the poor girl wasn’t in tears.
A similar night in the bar followed, although this time we were joined at dinner by a million and one midges which managed to get everywhere including the food. Considering we’d been warned severely about the mossies at Bosumtwi because of the stagnant water we all seem to have got off fairly lightly, although for some inexplicable reason they are always drawn to my feet – not something that I’d really recommend in this hot weather!
Sunday was another scorcher, but the disappointment at having to leave our tranquil hideaway was abated by the afternoon at the footy. One of the local teams in Kumasi, Asante Kotoko were in with a chance of winning the league coming into the final game of the season just one point behind the leaders, their rivals from Accra. I’ve decided to adopt Kotoko as my team (red and white, and they play in Kumasi), and to add a little extra spice they were playing in a local derby against King Faisal. Duncan & I bought the tickets, the cheapest on offer at 3 Cedi for a title decider!
We took Fresh and Enoch from our host family to the match, and followed pre-match tradition by indulging in a couple of beers and some street food before the game – although it was fried rice eaten with our hands rather than a dirty burger this time.
The stadium was impressive, having been built for the 2008 African Cup of Nations, but I was a little disappointed by the size of the crowd – probably under 2/3 full for such an important game. However those that were there gave it plenty in terms of noise, colour and entertainment. The game itself was pretty good, Faisal twice leading before a late equaliser made it 2-2… not enough to win Kotoko the league to the disappointment of the crowd. Overall the standard and pace of the game was good, especially considering the weather.
I picked up bonus points with the locals, picking up plenty of shouts of ‘fabulous’ and handshakes for wearing the Kotoko shirt that I picked up before the match.
Monday 20th July
A quiet day was interrupted with more drama when out of the blue the water pipe we use for washing clothes and dishes outside in the courtyard exploded sending up a fountain as high as the house, which kept firing until we managed to find some friendly neighbours to help stem the pipe, only for it to go again an hour or so later… it’s back under semi control at the moment, but I wouldn’t rule out a third soaking of the day yet. At least we’re not in a drought!
The office computer is finally fixed for the first time since I’ve been here, so we’re able to start on a backlog of admin and reports that need working up. As an NGO we need to keep the Ghana Aids Commission informed of our activities. It also meant we were able to watch the DVD that I brought over from the Terrance Higgins Trust in Nottingham. Two full weeks into the trip and it was the first time I’d really thought about home – the DVD contained loads of shots of Nottingham City Centre, Trent Bridge and the City Ground… giving me just a few pangs for home!
Dad texted in the afternoon so say we’d won the second test in the Ashes to go 1-0 up, news that I was delighted to pass on to Bridie our resident Aussie. Having also been having pangs about missing the cricket, it’s going to need a big DVD session when I get back to catch up.
…Drenching number three duly arrived after dinner when the plumber came to look at the pipe and released the pressure again. We’ve left the pipe held in place by a precarious combination of breeze blocks and the barbell until a new one can be fitted tomorrow.
Tuesday 21st July
A fairly quiet day, so a short list of things I’m missing from home (friends and family apart); cheese, marmite, cricket, fantasy cricket, sausages, poker, proper bread, easy internet access, power showers, running at the gym, transfer gossip, the morning papers, gin & tonic - ice and a slice…
Today we went to Amoumang for community presentations, and just got through a group discussion, and a calabash of Pito wine (made from fermented corn, a tasting a like flat, vinegary cider), when the rain came putting an end to the day’s work. We spent 45 minutes waiting for a tro back, sheltering from the rain and watching boys playing draughts at breakneck speed.
Had a couple of hours sleep in the early evening as for the first time I was feeling a bit unwell, and a slow evening was noted by Big Paul calling me up to his to show me some powdered gold that he is getting assessed for a friend tomorrow.
Wednesday 22nd July
Big Paul’s bag of powdered gold turned out to be nothing more than common or garden dust. A bit of a let down for his friend, whose grandfather always kept his jar of ‘gold’ with him…
Community work in the village of Adankwame today, including a session with a group of about 20 young men, I do enjoy the larger presentations as there’s always a bit of interaction and quite a lot of laughter, but it gets impossible to hold everyone’s attention for any length of time. The community work is great, but I’m looking forward to the challenge of two presentations to entire schools on Friday.
I’ve also started to get the feeling that I’d like to achieve a bit more – something that will leave a tangible legacy with Tiyah (I sound a bit like a heavyweight boxer talking about ‘legacy’). I’ve managed to professionalise their recording and reporting system, and plan to re-write the website, but am trying to think what else I can achieve with them.
Thursday 23rd July
We delivered a presentation to 20 teachers at the one of the schools in Barekese today, and even though we’re talking to educated (and educating) people some of them hold some pretty trenchant views when it comes to HIV, both in terms of discrimination and in particular the old thing about ‘spiritual’ HIV, which came up again today.
Even though all of the teachers speak good English the schools are very noisy places and it was quite difficult to get everything across in the large classroom we were in today – they all migrated to the back just like school kids – still I enjoyed doing some proper presenting again. Tomorrow’s a different kettle of fish though, two presentations scheduled to entire schools of 400+ pupils. Should be fun.
Big Paul provoked a bit of a heated debate on one of his favourite topics tonight – creationism vs. evolution. Even though he loves talking about it, Paul’s completely closed to conflicting views to his own in this area – much to Bridie’s frustration in particular. Even though I don’t much fancy his chances of converting any of us.
Friday 24th July
Slightly disorganised as our planned three presentations to schools today turns into sessions with just the teachers, and then back in to two presentations to entire schools, and two separate ones with the staff, but we’re getting used to being flexible.
The first session was to about 150 pupils aged 11-14, but it’s not as horrific a proposition as that would be in the UK, and despite the excitement of having us in the school they listen attentively to what we had to say on HIV and stigma. Although I’m not sure exactly how much went in. It’s not a straightforward topic for them to grasp.
Contrasting experiences at the next two schools where we talk to the teachers, in the first they were very enlightened and eager to discuss the issues, while the second highlighted the scale of the job that needs to be done as it descends into a fiery conversation. The headmaster has some shocking views about HIV claiming that it can be transmitted through touching someone ‘like an electric shock’. Ahmed was great in challenging him but it was deflating to reflect that this man is in charge of an entire school, although to be fair some of his other teachers did well to dispute his point of view as well.
I tried to get some work done in the office in the afternoon, but the kids that followed me in made it next to impossible to achieve anything, being obsessed with touching anything that I put down for more than a second. I’d close the door, but without any kind of ventilation it’s just too hot.
Excitement in the evening, a night out on the town. Bantama is the main strip in Kumasi – much like any strip of bars in a holiday resort with lots of open fronted bars, banging music and hundreds of people milling around dancing and chatting. We met up with two other volunteers, Eva from Holland and Beth from Wales, and the evening kicked off with a few beers and some palm wine at the compound. It felt great to be on a proper night out for the first time in ages. All that was missing is a few lads for some real banter, Small Paul is there – but it’s not the same as chatting to some boys from home with the language and cultural barriers. Back home at about 12.30, my latest night out in Africa.
Quite a full weekend, with a visit to the nearby beauty spot, Lake Bosumtwi, followed by an end of season Premier League game of football.
The weekend started in a typically unexpected fashion – as I’m beginning to get used to in Ghana. We met in the morning to paint the sign for Tiyah on the outside of the office, when a taxi pulled up outside the building with its engine smoking dramatically – the driver popped the bonnet to sure enough find his engine in flames. Out of nowhere eight or so guys appeared to help, and began throwing handfuls of soil onto the fire, naturally enough I got involved as well and between us we managed to tame the damage until a fire extinguishers was produced from the barbers to quell the flames.
There followed a slightly stressful couple of hours trying to meet up with our fellow travellers in Kumasi and moving on to the lake, which was less than an hour away from the centre, but still involved two tros and a taxi ride.
It was worth it when we arrived though, Bosumtwi is the largest natural lake in Ghana at seven miles across and is thought to have been created by a meteor strike. Set in lush green countryside and mountains it felt like a million miles away from downtown Kumasi rather than about 30ks.
After a couple of weeks roughing it, the resort we chose came as an absolute luxury, although it wasn’t too expensive. Lake Point resort is made up of individual huts built onto a hillside and with a private ‘beach’ out front. After what we’ve been getting used to they were a real treat. It was also good to catch up with the other Brits from our orientation week, and enjoy a bit of chat in English, although unfortunately some of the younger guys aren’t quite loving their placements as much as we are.
A few Gulders later and Duncan made a triumphant entry, escorted into the hotel by two armed policemen who had been officiating at the sports tournament D had been attending all week. With a big entrance, and a group of impressed Obroni girls to show off to, the cops got quite excited and enjoyed being the centre of attention and posing for pictures. Felt really relaxed for the first time in a while that evening, staying up late and sinking a few cold beers.
On Saturday we spent a couple of hours lounging by the lakeside, and pretty soon most of us agreed another night at the lodge was in order – but taking the cheaper option and staying in a dorm this time. After a short stroll the rest of the afternoon was spent lounging around and I worked on my first bout of African sunburn.
The lodge was fantastic, but the shine was taken off a little by the Basil Fawlty-esque Austrian owner – a large lady with a face like a big of spanners, and a permanent attitude. She managed to embarrass all of by accusing the sweet girl who waitressed and ran the bar of stealing form her in front of all of us. I don’t know how the poor girl wasn’t in tears.
A similar night in the bar followed, although this time we were joined at dinner by a million and one midges which managed to get everywhere including the food. Considering we’d been warned severely about the mossies at Bosumtwi because of the stagnant water we all seem to have got off fairly lightly, although for some inexplicable reason they are always drawn to my feet – not something that I’d really recommend in this hot weather!
Sunday was another scorcher, but the disappointment at having to leave our tranquil hideaway was abated by the afternoon at the footy. One of the local teams in Kumasi, Asante Kotoko were in with a chance of winning the league coming into the final game of the season just one point behind the leaders, their rivals from Accra. I’ve decided to adopt Kotoko as my team (red and white, and they play in Kumasi), and to add a little extra spice they were playing in a local derby against King Faisal. Duncan & I bought the tickets, the cheapest on offer at 3 Cedi for a title decider!
We took Fresh and Enoch from our host family to the match, and followed pre-match tradition by indulging in a couple of beers and some street food before the game – although it was fried rice eaten with our hands rather than a dirty burger this time.
The stadium was impressive, having been built for the 2008 African Cup of Nations, but I was a little disappointed by the size of the crowd – probably under 2/3 full for such an important game. However those that were there gave it plenty in terms of noise, colour and entertainment. The game itself was pretty good, Faisal twice leading before a late equaliser made it 2-2… not enough to win Kotoko the league to the disappointment of the crowd. Overall the standard and pace of the game was good, especially considering the weather.
I picked up bonus points with the locals, picking up plenty of shouts of ‘fabulous’ and handshakes for wearing the Kotoko shirt that I picked up before the match.
Monday 20th July
A quiet day was interrupted with more drama when out of the blue the water pipe we use for washing clothes and dishes outside in the courtyard exploded sending up a fountain as high as the house, which kept firing until we managed to find some friendly neighbours to help stem the pipe, only for it to go again an hour or so later… it’s back under semi control at the moment, but I wouldn’t rule out a third soaking of the day yet. At least we’re not in a drought!
The office computer is finally fixed for the first time since I’ve been here, so we’re able to start on a backlog of admin and reports that need working up. As an NGO we need to keep the Ghana Aids Commission informed of our activities. It also meant we were able to watch the DVD that I brought over from the Terrance Higgins Trust in Nottingham. Two full weeks into the trip and it was the first time I’d really thought about home – the DVD contained loads of shots of Nottingham City Centre, Trent Bridge and the City Ground… giving me just a few pangs for home!
Dad texted in the afternoon so say we’d won the second test in the Ashes to go 1-0 up, news that I was delighted to pass on to Bridie our resident Aussie. Having also been having pangs about missing the cricket, it’s going to need a big DVD session when I get back to catch up.
…Drenching number three duly arrived after dinner when the plumber came to look at the pipe and released the pressure again. We’ve left the pipe held in place by a precarious combination of breeze blocks and the barbell until a new one can be fitted tomorrow.
Tuesday 21st July
A fairly quiet day, so a short list of things I’m missing from home (friends and family apart); cheese, marmite, cricket, fantasy cricket, sausages, poker, proper bread, easy internet access, power showers, running at the gym, transfer gossip, the morning papers, gin & tonic - ice and a slice…
Today we went to Amoumang for community presentations, and just got through a group discussion, and a calabash of Pito wine (made from fermented corn, a tasting a like flat, vinegary cider), when the rain came putting an end to the day’s work. We spent 45 minutes waiting for a tro back, sheltering from the rain and watching boys playing draughts at breakneck speed.
Had a couple of hours sleep in the early evening as for the first time I was feeling a bit unwell, and a slow evening was noted by Big Paul calling me up to his to show me some powdered gold that he is getting assessed for a friend tomorrow.
Wednesday 22nd July
Big Paul’s bag of powdered gold turned out to be nothing more than common or garden dust. A bit of a let down for his friend, whose grandfather always kept his jar of ‘gold’ with him…
Community work in the village of Adankwame today, including a session with a group of about 20 young men, I do enjoy the larger presentations as there’s always a bit of interaction and quite a lot of laughter, but it gets impossible to hold everyone’s attention for any length of time. The community work is great, but I’m looking forward to the challenge of two presentations to entire schools on Friday.
I’ve also started to get the feeling that I’d like to achieve a bit more – something that will leave a tangible legacy with Tiyah (I sound a bit like a heavyweight boxer talking about ‘legacy’). I’ve managed to professionalise their recording and reporting system, and plan to re-write the website, but am trying to think what else I can achieve with them.
Thursday 23rd July
We delivered a presentation to 20 teachers at the one of the schools in Barekese today, and even though we’re talking to educated (and educating) people some of them hold some pretty trenchant views when it comes to HIV, both in terms of discrimination and in particular the old thing about ‘spiritual’ HIV, which came up again today.
Even though all of the teachers speak good English the schools are very noisy places and it was quite difficult to get everything across in the large classroom we were in today – they all migrated to the back just like school kids – still I enjoyed doing some proper presenting again. Tomorrow’s a different kettle of fish though, two presentations scheduled to entire schools of 400+ pupils. Should be fun.
Big Paul provoked a bit of a heated debate on one of his favourite topics tonight – creationism vs. evolution. Even though he loves talking about it, Paul’s completely closed to conflicting views to his own in this area – much to Bridie’s frustration in particular. Even though I don’t much fancy his chances of converting any of us.
Friday 24th July
Slightly disorganised as our planned three presentations to schools today turns into sessions with just the teachers, and then back in to two presentations to entire schools, and two separate ones with the staff, but we’re getting used to being flexible.
The first session was to about 150 pupils aged 11-14, but it’s not as horrific a proposition as that would be in the UK, and despite the excitement of having us in the school they listen attentively to what we had to say on HIV and stigma. Although I’m not sure exactly how much went in. It’s not a straightforward topic for them to grasp.
Contrasting experiences at the next two schools where we talk to the teachers, in the first they were very enlightened and eager to discuss the issues, while the second highlighted the scale of the job that needs to be done as it descends into a fiery conversation. The headmaster has some shocking views about HIV claiming that it can be transmitted through touching someone ‘like an electric shock’. Ahmed was great in challenging him but it was deflating to reflect that this man is in charge of an entire school, although to be fair some of his other teachers did well to dispute his point of view as well.
I tried to get some work done in the office in the afternoon, but the kids that followed me in made it next to impossible to achieve anything, being obsessed with touching anything that I put down for more than a second. I’d close the door, but without any kind of ventilation it’s just too hot.
Excitement in the evening, a night out on the town. Bantama is the main strip in Kumasi – much like any strip of bars in a holiday resort with lots of open fronted bars, banging music and hundreds of people milling around dancing and chatting. We met up with two other volunteers, Eva from Holland and Beth from Wales, and the evening kicked off with a few beers and some palm wine at the compound. It felt great to be on a proper night out for the first time in ages. All that was missing is a few lads for some real banter, Small Paul is there – but it’s not the same as chatting to some boys from home with the language and cultural barriers. Back home at about 12.30, my latest night out in Africa.
Week Two
Saturday 11th July
It's Malou and Rachel's last day at Tiyah before they go travelling, so we have a final meeting on Saturday morning with Helen, Small Paul and Big Ahmed (not the Ahmed from my house). To be honest it's a pretty uncomfortable meeting - we get the distinct impression that Malou and Rachel haven't really endeared themselves to Tiyah, they get slightly critical of the set up saying that they felt the intro information was inaccurate and that there was too much sitting around, but it seems to me that this is the kind of programme where you get out what you put in.
They strike me as a little bit too immature to be proactive enough to make a real impact... Anyway a fair bit of tension and some uncomfortable silences have to be endured, on the bright side it gives us a little bit more leeway to impress!
After the meeting, we travel into Kumasi and visit the National Cultural Centre to see Lucas - a man who works with Tiyah and runs a dance & drumming troop. We're too late to see the performance, but spend a bit of time at the centre looking through the cultural stands - then a couple of beers in town with Small Paul and Lucas, where we also try the local spirit Abedashi - which is kind of like gin, but doesn't taste quite as strong. Maybe a few more nights on it to come.
Lucas is a really friendly guy, and his work with his dance group includes taking in street kids and orphans, unfortunately for Laura he gets a little tipsy after a couple of beers and declares his love for her. Which is unfortunate.
Sunday 12th July
I break a long held habit as Laura and I go with Small Paul to visit the local Roman Catholic Church in the spirit of giving everything a try. Unsurprisingly, it’s a bit different from your average RC service back in the UK…
As we go in we meet one of Achiase’s main chiefs, who’s delighted to see us at his church. We sit at the back of the half finished breeze block church to observe rather than participate, and although the service is in 90% Twi I get the gist of what is happening – even recognising some of the prayers by their rhythm. The locals get so involved in their worship it’s fun to watch, drumming, gospel music and dancing they throw everything into the service.
All Ghanaians that I’ve met so far are hugely religious – whatever denomination they choose, which is a bit of a strange comparison to the west, when you might have thought people here had so much less to be thankful to God for… perhaps they have more reason to hope?
Big Paul takes us around some of his friends in the afternoon – feel a bit like we’re being shown off like his latest car or TV set, but there’s a real spirit of generosity and friendship so it doesn’t matter.
Then in the evening we go to worship the other Ghanaian religion – football. Every Sunday men and boys from the village gather in the centre of Achiase for a makeshift game. With doubts about my skills and stamina in the heat I politely decline the invitation to play and instead watch as a committed group of guys play a decent standard game on a bumpy pitch with Big Paul even getting involved. Think I’ll have to play next time.
Monday 13th July
Our first day proper with Tiyah, and we have a morning meeting to run through the agenda for week – a combination of school presentations and community visits, and we also run through a background on Tiyah and some of the aims of the project to get a bigger picture.
Laura and I donate the posters, leaflets and DVDs that we brought with us which all go down a storm, and gets us off onto a good foot with the guys. Its news to both of us, but the role isn’t exclusively concentrated on HIV and AIDS, in fact tomorrow we are delivering a presentation on animal bites to the teachers at a local Junior High School. It feels odd to me to be lecturing to teachers rather than the other way round, but we head into Kumasi to hit the internet and planning on the subject… nothing like last minute cramming!
The evening is spent at the compound playing cards and messing around with the kids. I’m beginning to spot an unfortunate trend at dinner time as we have another tomato based sauce, much to my own surprise I’m giving it a bit of a go – albeit tentatively and mixed in with a LOT of plain spaghetti.
Tuesday 14th July
Up and out early, it’s the day of the first presentation for all three of us, and we head over to the village of Ntribouho to talk to the Junior High School teachers. It’s a nice looking concrete school with several large classrooms, but we set up on a large table under a tree in the playing fields which makes a nice spot for the lesson.
I’m pleased, but a little concerned how well the presentation goes – the teachers are very happy to see us and listen attentively, but I’m surprised that so much of the information we’re passing on which seems pretty basic to me is new to them. The importance of cleaning and covering a wound to avoid infection for one thing. Sometimes people seem much more developed and educated than I expected, when something like this just demonstrates completely the opposite.
The headmaster praises the talk, and invites us all back to the school to lecture to the pupils on any topic we like, which is flattering, is a slightly terrifying prospect.
After the presentation Paul spring a bit of a surprise on us – we head into Ntribouho town to pitch up at various hairdressers etc to talk about HIV & AIDS, it’s just the basics, but with the focus on animal bites we’re not really prepared for it. We run through our presentation with Paul translating, although in truth he ends up doing most of the speaking with us feeling slightly like a spare part… but it’s the first time out. Afterwards Paul explained that even though we didn’t say that much, even just having a white face sitting there nodding along meant the hairdressers were much more prepared to listen, which is a pretty sad state of affairs.
The reality of the situation here starts to really hit home when we meet a very nice, pretty young lady (I guess around 23) who is worried that she may be carrying HIV. The team at Tiyah have been talking to her for some time about going for a test, and will even travel to the other side of Kumasi with her to help ensure anonymity
Big Paul’s taken a bit of a shine to me which is great, but he’s also decided that I’m the fount of all knowledge and is calling upon my services to install a new mother board into his PC, I’ll have a look at give it a bash but I don’t know a mother board from an ironing board…
Back in the compound there’s a bit of tension tonight and there’s a big meeting all in Twi between both Pauls, Helen, Theresa (Big Paul’s wife) and Ahmed. Apparently there’s a bit of friction between Theresa and Bernice – it sounds like Theresa is a bit jealous of Bernice, who’s much younger, and speaks very good English so we all get on very well. Now I think Theresa wants to cook, clean for us instead… despite spending all day at the market, and not really speaking any English. Can’t see it happening.
Wednesday 15th July
…More trouble with Theresa as we’re woken up at 5.30 by her on a crazed cleaning spree, making us all feel a bit uncomfortable as we get ready for work. Apparently she was also very rude to Bernice & made her little daughter Judy cry this morning, which we’re very unimpressed with.
In the evening we decide it needs to be sorted out, as it’s making the compound a difficult place to live, so we go en-masse with Bernice to Helen’s house – about 30mins walk in growing dark, although we’re slowed down considerably by the kids who walk with us holding our hands every step of the way, and an over enthusiastic, and very possibly rabid dog Babylon. After a bit of a pow-wow with Helen she heads back to the house with us and it’s all had out again, we just pick up the odd heated voice in Twi from Paul’s apartment – I hope everything’s sorted, but remain to be convinced.
Laura and I have an enlightening conversation with Fresh G (Small Ahmed’s ‘gansta’ name, despite being a friendly Jehovah Witness) and Big Paul. Now both guys are intelligent and well educated, but they’re utterly convinced about some of the most fanciful stories about the occult and demons; from dwarf child snatches, to gold rings which turn into serpents overnight and back again, vomiting out vast sums of money in the process. They’re such strongly held beliefs that I was reluctant to question them too strongly. The people here continue to surprise me.
During the day we took a short tro ride to the nearby village of Barekese where we arranged three presentations to schools for next week – to a combination of both teachers and students. Again I’m struck by how much every teacher is pleased to see us and welcome us to their schools, even though we’re just entering the exams season. Although I’m getting used to the attention here it hit a new level at one school, where an entire classroom of about 50 pupils chanted in unison at us; “Obroni, how are you? Obroni, how are you?...” until we were out of sight.
Whilst in Barekese we also took the opportunity to pop in for a few informal chats at local hairdressers, and I’m starting to feel much more at home running through the HIV information, and am starting to get a bit more interaction going.
It’s the hottest day so far in Ghana and the old factor 30 got a bit of a work out on the way home when we stopped by the Barekese Dam, where there is a man-made lake that services water for the whole of Kumasi, set in some beautiful green countryside it’s an impressive sight, although we get stopped and challenged by an official who wants to charge us 10 Cedi per person to view the lake (I’m guessing special Obroni rates), so we shot off sharpish.
Later in the afternoon we popped into the school in Achiase where Bernice teachers for the after school ‘Abstinence Club’, I can’t imagine it would have gone down too well at West Bridgford Comp, but I’m surprised to see the club’s very well attended…
Thursday 16th July
Theresa was still on her cleaning blitz this morning, it’s looking a bit OCD now, and made for another awkward breakfast.
I’ve discovered a makeshift barbell round the side of the house – an iron rod with concrete blocks at either end, I’d guess it weights about 20-25kgs, so Fresh and I have a bit of a workout, my first exercise for a while.
We headed into another local village called Asoufua for some more community work, and we made a real breakthrough with one woman in particular, she recently had a baby, but doesn’t think the hospital tested her at all for HIV – although they are legally required to. So she was very grateful to us for explaining HIV for the first time, and is very keen for us to come back and speak to her church group in more detail. A younger girl in the same house is also pregnant and hadn’t had the test either so went off immediately to demand the clinic gave her the correct tests. Feels good to know we can make a difference.
After that Small Paul and I talked to a group of lorry drivers about HIV, which actually turned out to be a lot of fun with some quality banter going on – they really love it here if you even speak a few words of Twi so were loving me introducing myself in the local lingo. There was one tricky moment when I was asked whether HIV could be transmitted spiritually – this idea is deeply ingrained for the locals, so it’s pretty hard to deride, had to find a balance of saying “well obviously I’m a guest in your country, so respect your beliefs”, and “well that’s just bullshit pal”.
This evening we were sitting outside chatting when I spotted a smallish snake moving across the courtyard behind Big Paul. He shot about three feet in the air when I alerted him – I kind of forgot how dangerous snakes can be here. Fresh beat the snake to death with the end of a broom handle & dispensed of it in the bush.
It's Malou and Rachel's last day at Tiyah before they go travelling, so we have a final meeting on Saturday morning with Helen, Small Paul and Big Ahmed (not the Ahmed from my house). To be honest it's a pretty uncomfortable meeting - we get the distinct impression that Malou and Rachel haven't really endeared themselves to Tiyah, they get slightly critical of the set up saying that they felt the intro information was inaccurate and that there was too much sitting around, but it seems to me that this is the kind of programme where you get out what you put in.
They strike me as a little bit too immature to be proactive enough to make a real impact... Anyway a fair bit of tension and some uncomfortable silences have to be endured, on the bright side it gives us a little bit more leeway to impress!
After the meeting, we travel into Kumasi and visit the National Cultural Centre to see Lucas - a man who works with Tiyah and runs a dance & drumming troop. We're too late to see the performance, but spend a bit of time at the centre looking through the cultural stands - then a couple of beers in town with Small Paul and Lucas, where we also try the local spirit Abedashi - which is kind of like gin, but doesn't taste quite as strong. Maybe a few more nights on it to come.
Lucas is a really friendly guy, and his work with his dance group includes taking in street kids and orphans, unfortunately for Laura he gets a little tipsy after a couple of beers and declares his love for her. Which is unfortunate.
Sunday 12th July
I break a long held habit as Laura and I go with Small Paul to visit the local Roman Catholic Church in the spirit of giving everything a try. Unsurprisingly, it’s a bit different from your average RC service back in the UK…
As we go in we meet one of Achiase’s main chiefs, who’s delighted to see us at his church. We sit at the back of the half finished breeze block church to observe rather than participate, and although the service is in 90% Twi I get the gist of what is happening – even recognising some of the prayers by their rhythm. The locals get so involved in their worship it’s fun to watch, drumming, gospel music and dancing they throw everything into the service.
All Ghanaians that I’ve met so far are hugely religious – whatever denomination they choose, which is a bit of a strange comparison to the west, when you might have thought people here had so much less to be thankful to God for… perhaps they have more reason to hope?
Big Paul takes us around some of his friends in the afternoon – feel a bit like we’re being shown off like his latest car or TV set, but there’s a real spirit of generosity and friendship so it doesn’t matter.
Then in the evening we go to worship the other Ghanaian religion – football. Every Sunday men and boys from the village gather in the centre of Achiase for a makeshift game. With doubts about my skills and stamina in the heat I politely decline the invitation to play and instead watch as a committed group of guys play a decent standard game on a bumpy pitch with Big Paul even getting involved. Think I’ll have to play next time.
Monday 13th July
Our first day proper with Tiyah, and we have a morning meeting to run through the agenda for week – a combination of school presentations and community visits, and we also run through a background on Tiyah and some of the aims of the project to get a bigger picture.
Laura and I donate the posters, leaflets and DVDs that we brought with us which all go down a storm, and gets us off onto a good foot with the guys. Its news to both of us, but the role isn’t exclusively concentrated on HIV and AIDS, in fact tomorrow we are delivering a presentation on animal bites to the teachers at a local Junior High School. It feels odd to me to be lecturing to teachers rather than the other way round, but we head into Kumasi to hit the internet and planning on the subject… nothing like last minute cramming!
The evening is spent at the compound playing cards and messing around with the kids. I’m beginning to spot an unfortunate trend at dinner time as we have another tomato based sauce, much to my own surprise I’m giving it a bit of a go – albeit tentatively and mixed in with a LOT of plain spaghetti.
Tuesday 14th July
Up and out early, it’s the day of the first presentation for all three of us, and we head over to the village of Ntribouho to talk to the Junior High School teachers. It’s a nice looking concrete school with several large classrooms, but we set up on a large table under a tree in the playing fields which makes a nice spot for the lesson.
I’m pleased, but a little concerned how well the presentation goes – the teachers are very happy to see us and listen attentively, but I’m surprised that so much of the information we’re passing on which seems pretty basic to me is new to them. The importance of cleaning and covering a wound to avoid infection for one thing. Sometimes people seem much more developed and educated than I expected, when something like this just demonstrates completely the opposite.
The headmaster praises the talk, and invites us all back to the school to lecture to the pupils on any topic we like, which is flattering, is a slightly terrifying prospect.
After the presentation Paul spring a bit of a surprise on us – we head into Ntribouho town to pitch up at various hairdressers etc to talk about HIV & AIDS, it’s just the basics, but with the focus on animal bites we’re not really prepared for it. We run through our presentation with Paul translating, although in truth he ends up doing most of the speaking with us feeling slightly like a spare part… but it’s the first time out. Afterwards Paul explained that even though we didn’t say that much, even just having a white face sitting there nodding along meant the hairdressers were much more prepared to listen, which is a pretty sad state of affairs.
The reality of the situation here starts to really hit home when we meet a very nice, pretty young lady (I guess around 23) who is worried that she may be carrying HIV. The team at Tiyah have been talking to her for some time about going for a test, and will even travel to the other side of Kumasi with her to help ensure anonymity
Big Paul’s taken a bit of a shine to me which is great, but he’s also decided that I’m the fount of all knowledge and is calling upon my services to install a new mother board into his PC, I’ll have a look at give it a bash but I don’t know a mother board from an ironing board…
Back in the compound there’s a bit of tension tonight and there’s a big meeting all in Twi between both Pauls, Helen, Theresa (Big Paul’s wife) and Ahmed. Apparently there’s a bit of friction between Theresa and Bernice – it sounds like Theresa is a bit jealous of Bernice, who’s much younger, and speaks very good English so we all get on very well. Now I think Theresa wants to cook, clean for us instead… despite spending all day at the market, and not really speaking any English. Can’t see it happening.
Wednesday 15th July
…More trouble with Theresa as we’re woken up at 5.30 by her on a crazed cleaning spree, making us all feel a bit uncomfortable as we get ready for work. Apparently she was also very rude to Bernice & made her little daughter Judy cry this morning, which we’re very unimpressed with.
In the evening we decide it needs to be sorted out, as it’s making the compound a difficult place to live, so we go en-masse with Bernice to Helen’s house – about 30mins walk in growing dark, although we’re slowed down considerably by the kids who walk with us holding our hands every step of the way, and an over enthusiastic, and very possibly rabid dog Babylon. After a bit of a pow-wow with Helen she heads back to the house with us and it’s all had out again, we just pick up the odd heated voice in Twi from Paul’s apartment – I hope everything’s sorted, but remain to be convinced.
Laura and I have an enlightening conversation with Fresh G (Small Ahmed’s ‘gansta’ name, despite being a friendly Jehovah Witness) and Big Paul. Now both guys are intelligent and well educated, but they’re utterly convinced about some of the most fanciful stories about the occult and demons; from dwarf child snatches, to gold rings which turn into serpents overnight and back again, vomiting out vast sums of money in the process. They’re such strongly held beliefs that I was reluctant to question them too strongly. The people here continue to surprise me.
During the day we took a short tro ride to the nearby village of Barekese where we arranged three presentations to schools for next week – to a combination of both teachers and students. Again I’m struck by how much every teacher is pleased to see us and welcome us to their schools, even though we’re just entering the exams season. Although I’m getting used to the attention here it hit a new level at one school, where an entire classroom of about 50 pupils chanted in unison at us; “Obroni, how are you? Obroni, how are you?...” until we were out of sight.
Whilst in Barekese we also took the opportunity to pop in for a few informal chats at local hairdressers, and I’m starting to feel much more at home running through the HIV information, and am starting to get a bit more interaction going.
It’s the hottest day so far in Ghana and the old factor 30 got a bit of a work out on the way home when we stopped by the Barekese Dam, where there is a man-made lake that services water for the whole of Kumasi, set in some beautiful green countryside it’s an impressive sight, although we get stopped and challenged by an official who wants to charge us 10 Cedi per person to view the lake (I’m guessing special Obroni rates), so we shot off sharpish.
Later in the afternoon we popped into the school in Achiase where Bernice teachers for the after school ‘Abstinence Club’, I can’t imagine it would have gone down too well at West Bridgford Comp, but I’m surprised to see the club’s very well attended…
Thursday 16th July
Theresa was still on her cleaning blitz this morning, it’s looking a bit OCD now, and made for another awkward breakfast.
I’ve discovered a makeshift barbell round the side of the house – an iron rod with concrete blocks at either end, I’d guess it weights about 20-25kgs, so Fresh and I have a bit of a workout, my first exercise for a while.
We headed into another local village called Asoufua for some more community work, and we made a real breakthrough with one woman in particular, she recently had a baby, but doesn’t think the hospital tested her at all for HIV – although they are legally required to. So she was very grateful to us for explaining HIV for the first time, and is very keen for us to come back and speak to her church group in more detail. A younger girl in the same house is also pregnant and hadn’t had the test either so went off immediately to demand the clinic gave her the correct tests. Feels good to know we can make a difference.
After that Small Paul and I talked to a group of lorry drivers about HIV, which actually turned out to be a lot of fun with some quality banter going on – they really love it here if you even speak a few words of Twi so were loving me introducing myself in the local lingo. There was one tricky moment when I was asked whether HIV could be transmitted spiritually – this idea is deeply ingrained for the locals, so it’s pretty hard to deride, had to find a balance of saying “well obviously I’m a guest in your country, so respect your beliefs”, and “well that’s just bullshit pal”.
This evening we were sitting outside chatting when I spotted a smallish snake moving across the courtyard behind Big Paul. He shot about three feet in the air when I alerted him – I kind of forgot how dangerous snakes can be here. Fresh beat the snake to death with the end of a broom handle & dispensed of it in the bush.
Monday 3 August 2009
Week one in Ghana
Monday 6th July
An early start - earlier than it needed to be really, but that's mothers for you - and a drive down to T5 at Heathrow to meet up with the seven other volunteers that I\m travelling with to Ghana.
Feeling slightly nervous - it suddenly feels like a hell of a big adventure, and I really don't know much about what I'll be doing and what is in store for me over the next three months, but then that's part of the reason for going I guess. I was also feeling a bit self conscious about being the granddad of the group at 30, while everyone else seems to be college or uni age. But the thing is we're all in the same boat and in theory at least I should be a little bit more worldly wise than most of the others...
A pretty uneventful flight, except to say that In The Loop is a fucking funny film (swear word obligatory here), and we touch down in Accra for my first taste of Ghana, and indeed Africa. It's quite late, about 10.30 but the weather is still very warm and close. We\re met by a couple of representatives from SYTO who are to spend the first week introducing us to Ghana, preparing us for our time here. , plus about 15 other assorted people intent on helping us with our bags. It's a bit confusing whether they are officials or chancers and being tired and disorientated I make the schoolboy error of offering one of them a US dollar for helping... cue a swarm of others looking for their own piece of the action as I try to escape to the sanctuary of the waiting bus.
My first impressions of Ghana at night; it's chaotic, even though it's late there are cars, vans and taxis everywhere in various states of disreppair - and seemingly all using their horns as replacement indicators. And if there is any rule to the road it's the old "he who dares, wins" SAS motto. After a short ride we arrive at the hostel that will house us for the week and take a late dinner of spicy chicken and rice.
The hostel is pretty basic as you might expect, but it's conmfortable. I'm in a room with Duncan, an Oxford student from Reading who was part of our party, and a German volunteer Michael.
Tuesday 7th July
Wake up for the first time in Ghana after a decent night's sleep, a cold shower and down for breakfast where I was delighted to find quality - if instant - coffee is available.
The bus was due to leave at 8.00 so we boarded with the rest of the Bunac volunteers and watched in suprise as the bus firstly filled up, and then overfilled a bit like a Marx Brothers film as more people kept pouring into the bus and seats were produced flipping down from all angles.
In all 30 plus volunteers set off for the office. If it wasn't for the amazing scenes to take in it would have been an uncomfortable ride, but we were all preoccupied with the scenes. The first chance to see something of Accra in the daylight, there was much to take in; the first thing I noticed was the red earth that makes up all but the main roads, and all of the surrounding areas, secondly it's sheer number of people, and the energy of the place. People are everywhere, lining the streets, and weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic, many of them selling products to the passengers, moring papers, sweets, yams, plantain, even tummy tuckers are traded often from large bowls balanced on their heads.
The other thing we soon pick up on is the excitement of a forthcoming visit from President Obama. He's arriving this Friday for his first official visit anywhere in Sub-Saharan Africa, and wouldn't you know it. There are Akwaaba "welcome" posters on every available surface. It's going to be huge.
On to our induction. In the morning, Tina from SYTO takes us through what it will be like with our host families, and gives us general advice on local culture, customs and health. Tina's a perfect Ghanaian mother for all of us, large, loud and very friendly, and with a charming turn of phrase from quite a basic vocabulary, but using it to great effect. There doesn't seem to be much to worry about, as long as we use common sense, and decent manners everything should be good. The only other thing to try and remember is to only use the right hand wherever possible... the left being reserved for certain, dirtier uses.
Let loose for a couple of hours at lunch we have our first experience of the street hawkers, who although decending on us like a flock of birds are friendly and not at all threatening, just very. very persistent. Lunch is played safe in an air conditioned restaurant, not quite an authentic taste of Ghana, but it does the job.
The in the afternoon a bit of fun. We're given a lesson in African drumming by Stephen who teaches us two very basic rythms, and I reckon i pretty much get the hang of it ok, which is more than can be said for the traditional dance lesson that follows, where the old Smith two left feet get an outing. i spend the hour lesson sweating profusely as 18 of us dance is a small, poorly ventillated hut, and roughly two steps behind the rest of the group at all times.
In the evening we get the chance to show off what we learnt when Vincent and Paul from SYTO take us to a local club for the evening. They picked a pretty safe venue, with many westerners, and familiar music, but it's still fun. The locals that are here all want to meet us, shake our hands and ask where we're from... all very good natured.
By far the coolest person I met was Roxy, an Accra based DJ, who's going to be playing the Edinburgh festival this year. Roxy has some serious moves on the dancefloor, so I keep mine safely in the locker for another time.
Wednesday 8th July
Rain in the morning - not really what I signed up for - means that our planned city tour for the AM was shifted to the afternoon, so we spend the morning running through some basic language lessons, and a useful rundown of some of the best tourist attractions in Ghana - there's so much to do I reckon it's going to be tricky to find the time & money to fit everything in.
In the afternoon we head into Accra, amongst a bus tour of the main sights, the undoubted highlight for me was a walk through the traditional marketplace. Noisy, with cramped walkways and a cacophony of smells and sights greet us as we make our conspicuos way through the market. Stall with smoking fish, with live crabs, nuts, vegetables and curios compete with more mundane household goods and wares... it's the ASDA of Accra, and the electricity is amazing.
As a group of whites we attract a fair bit of attention ourselves with everyone wanting to shout hello, and welcome to Ghana 'akwaaba'. I think the excitement levels are turned up even further with the Obama visit looming and even though I'd have put them closer to Obama than us we still get often greeted as 'Obama's Children'.
The tour finished with a traditional Ghanian lunch of FuFu & goat, a large ball of soft dough served in a bowl with a spicy gots soup, which you eat with your fingers. Messy, delicious and very, filling. After that we got the chance to learn a little more about the birth of Ghana at the memorial to Kwame Nkrumah Ghana's liberator and first president, and a visit to the cultural market where the pressure to buy it intense, but I'm happy to spend 15 Ghana Cedi on an African painting.
Thursday 9th July
Cooking in the morning, when we learn some traditional Ghanaian dishes, Red Red (beans and plantain), Ampefi (fish and spinach) and a spicy chicken, all served with large bowls of rice. The food tastes good, especially the Red Red, but I don't really feel like I contributed that much, other than fanning the oven and stirring the pot we don't get the chance to get that involved.
Still at the office, I place an order for a drum with Stephen, who makes them to specification with our chosen words and symbols for only 50 cedi - about 20 quid. We then kills a couple of hours around 'Oxford Street', where we have a bit of banter with the lads selling wristbands and souveniers on the street, including various declarations of friendship, brotherhood and proposals of marriage (for the girls only), I managed to escape only buying an 'Obama in Ghana 09' wristband.
Chatting to people on the street, and looking around at the shirts everyone here seems to either support Chelsea (Michael Essien) or Man Utd, although there are a few intermitted Arsenal shirts. I ask them if they'll stop supporting Chelsea when Essien leaves, but they don't really follow. I can drum up a bit of Kudos for my Nottingham roots with Junior Agogo having played for Forest though.
Friday 10th July
Another early start for the five of us Bunacs based in Kumasi as we leave for a scheduled bus departure of 4.30am, so Laura (who is going to be living and working at the same project as me), Duncan, Stacey and Becky leave Accra frustratingly just hours before Obama arrives. Not before slight drama when Laura puts her foot through some rotten wood and falls into a drain, but luckily enough she hasn't hurt her foot too much.
The bus journey to Kumasi takes around five hours and was relatively comfortable once we got out of Accra - the road out was blighted by enough holes to put Blackburn, Lancashire to shame, with the red clay surface made much worse by the recent rain. The only other blight on the journey was the incessant kitsch American god music played at high volume all the way - not ideally conducive for catching up on missing sleep.
At Kumasi we are met by William, Diana and Helen from SYTO, and run through a short outline of each of our projects followed by a stroll around town. On first impressions Kumasi seems slightly less chaotic, and a little less in your face than Accra, but still with a real feeling of hustle and bustle.
Helen is also the Director of Laura and mine's placement - Tiyah Development Centre - and we also meet Paul who we're to be working with, a friendly, quitely spoken young man with good English and the obligatory Ghanaian love of football. We travel to our town of Achiase by tro-tro. Tro-tros are passenger cars similar in look and size to a very old transit van crossed with a bus. We take our tro from the main station in Kumasi - right next to the largest market in West Africa and I've never seen such bedlam. The tros wait to be filled before they leave, so we're jammed in alongside market traders taking their wares home after the day. There are hundreds of tros, and they all try to edge out into the same space at the same time.
Once finally clear of the station we leave the town behind and the road becomes much clearer - it takes around half an hour to reach Achiase, ending in a much more rural area than the town. Once landed with a keen mixture of anticipation, excitment and nervousness we look on our new home, and meet our new family for the next few months.
As we pull in, our landlord Big Paul (we've learnt Tiyah Paul is 'Small Paul') is leaning on his balcony watching the world go by. Naked form the waist up, and a big man my first impression is of a friendly, but slightly stern man.
The set up isn't quite what I expected, through the back of Paul's large two storey home is a large open concrete courtyard with our compound the other side. We're sharing with Bridie, another volunteer from Australia, Malou and Rachel (Dutch and New York) are also here, but due to leave tomorrow. So for tonight only I sleep with the 'host family' in the house attached to ours - taking Malou and Rachel's room from tomorrow. Our area is not quite as basic as I feared and a decent size, we have running water, a flushing toilet and a camping type stove - relative luxury to what might have been. It seems most of the life here will take place outside in the concrete and trees of the courtyard.
Bernice from the host family cooks for us as she will every night - spicy chicken and rice - and we set about settling in and getting to know each other. I'm not quite sure who belongs to who, but we meet Bernice, Ahmed from our host family, plus kids, Enoch, Priscilla and Judy who all have an abundance affection and an obession of taking photographs with our digital cameras.
Today is a big day for all of Ghana with Obama arriving, and a proud Big Paul invites us up into his house to watch the US president arrive. Big Paul is very welcoming, speaks excellent English and has a very real curiosity about our lives back home. After a long day, we take the opportunity for an early night.
An early start - earlier than it needed to be really, but that's mothers for you - and a drive down to T5 at Heathrow to meet up with the seven other volunteers that I\m travelling with to Ghana.
Feeling slightly nervous - it suddenly feels like a hell of a big adventure, and I really don't know much about what I'll be doing and what is in store for me over the next three months, but then that's part of the reason for going I guess. I was also feeling a bit self conscious about being the granddad of the group at 30, while everyone else seems to be college or uni age. But the thing is we're all in the same boat and in theory at least I should be a little bit more worldly wise than most of the others...
A pretty uneventful flight, except to say that In The Loop is a fucking funny film (swear word obligatory here), and we touch down in Accra for my first taste of Ghana, and indeed Africa. It's quite late, about 10.30 but the weather is still very warm and close. We\re met by a couple of representatives from SYTO who are to spend the first week introducing us to Ghana, preparing us for our time here. , plus about 15 other assorted people intent on helping us with our bags. It's a bit confusing whether they are officials or chancers and being tired and disorientated I make the schoolboy error of offering one of them a US dollar for helping... cue a swarm of others looking for their own piece of the action as I try to escape to the sanctuary of the waiting bus.
My first impressions of Ghana at night; it's chaotic, even though it's late there are cars, vans and taxis everywhere in various states of disreppair - and seemingly all using their horns as replacement indicators. And if there is any rule to the road it's the old "he who dares, wins" SAS motto. After a short ride we arrive at the hostel that will house us for the week and take a late dinner of spicy chicken and rice.
The hostel is pretty basic as you might expect, but it's conmfortable. I'm in a room with Duncan, an Oxford student from Reading who was part of our party, and a German volunteer Michael.
Tuesday 7th July
Wake up for the first time in Ghana after a decent night's sleep, a cold shower and down for breakfast where I was delighted to find quality - if instant - coffee is available.
The bus was due to leave at 8.00 so we boarded with the rest of the Bunac volunteers and watched in suprise as the bus firstly filled up, and then overfilled a bit like a Marx Brothers film as more people kept pouring into the bus and seats were produced flipping down from all angles.
In all 30 plus volunteers set off for the office. If it wasn't for the amazing scenes to take in it would have been an uncomfortable ride, but we were all preoccupied with the scenes. The first chance to see something of Accra in the daylight, there was much to take in; the first thing I noticed was the red earth that makes up all but the main roads, and all of the surrounding areas, secondly it's sheer number of people, and the energy of the place. People are everywhere, lining the streets, and weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic, many of them selling products to the passengers, moring papers, sweets, yams, plantain, even tummy tuckers are traded often from large bowls balanced on their heads.
The other thing we soon pick up on is the excitement of a forthcoming visit from President Obama. He's arriving this Friday for his first official visit anywhere in Sub-Saharan Africa, and wouldn't you know it. There are Akwaaba "welcome" posters on every available surface. It's going to be huge.
On to our induction. In the morning, Tina from SYTO takes us through what it will be like with our host families, and gives us general advice on local culture, customs and health. Tina's a perfect Ghanaian mother for all of us, large, loud and very friendly, and with a charming turn of phrase from quite a basic vocabulary, but using it to great effect. There doesn't seem to be much to worry about, as long as we use common sense, and decent manners everything should be good. The only other thing to try and remember is to only use the right hand wherever possible... the left being reserved for certain, dirtier uses.
Let loose for a couple of hours at lunch we have our first experience of the street hawkers, who although decending on us like a flock of birds are friendly and not at all threatening, just very. very persistent. Lunch is played safe in an air conditioned restaurant, not quite an authentic taste of Ghana, but it does the job.
The in the afternoon a bit of fun. We're given a lesson in African drumming by Stephen who teaches us two very basic rythms, and I reckon i pretty much get the hang of it ok, which is more than can be said for the traditional dance lesson that follows, where the old Smith two left feet get an outing. i spend the hour lesson sweating profusely as 18 of us dance is a small, poorly ventillated hut, and roughly two steps behind the rest of the group at all times.
In the evening we get the chance to show off what we learnt when Vincent and Paul from SYTO take us to a local club for the evening. They picked a pretty safe venue, with many westerners, and familiar music, but it's still fun. The locals that are here all want to meet us, shake our hands and ask where we're from... all very good natured.
By far the coolest person I met was Roxy, an Accra based DJ, who's going to be playing the Edinburgh festival this year. Roxy has some serious moves on the dancefloor, so I keep mine safely in the locker for another time.
Wednesday 8th July
Rain in the morning - not really what I signed up for - means that our planned city tour for the AM was shifted to the afternoon, so we spend the morning running through some basic language lessons, and a useful rundown of some of the best tourist attractions in Ghana - there's so much to do I reckon it's going to be tricky to find the time & money to fit everything in.
In the afternoon we head into Accra, amongst a bus tour of the main sights, the undoubted highlight for me was a walk through the traditional marketplace. Noisy, with cramped walkways and a cacophony of smells and sights greet us as we make our conspicuos way through the market. Stall with smoking fish, with live crabs, nuts, vegetables and curios compete with more mundane household goods and wares... it's the ASDA of Accra, and the electricity is amazing.
As a group of whites we attract a fair bit of attention ourselves with everyone wanting to shout hello, and welcome to Ghana 'akwaaba'. I think the excitement levels are turned up even further with the Obama visit looming and even though I'd have put them closer to Obama than us we still get often greeted as 'Obama's Children'.
The tour finished with a traditional Ghanian lunch of FuFu & goat, a large ball of soft dough served in a bowl with a spicy gots soup, which you eat with your fingers. Messy, delicious and very, filling. After that we got the chance to learn a little more about the birth of Ghana at the memorial to Kwame Nkrumah Ghana's liberator and first president, and a visit to the cultural market where the pressure to buy it intense, but I'm happy to spend 15 Ghana Cedi on an African painting.
Thursday 9th July
Cooking in the morning, when we learn some traditional Ghanaian dishes, Red Red (beans and plantain), Ampefi (fish and spinach) and a spicy chicken, all served with large bowls of rice. The food tastes good, especially the Red Red, but I don't really feel like I contributed that much, other than fanning the oven and stirring the pot we don't get the chance to get that involved.
Still at the office, I place an order for a drum with Stephen, who makes them to specification with our chosen words and symbols for only 50 cedi - about 20 quid. We then kills a couple of hours around 'Oxford Street', where we have a bit of banter with the lads selling wristbands and souveniers on the street, including various declarations of friendship, brotherhood and proposals of marriage (for the girls only), I managed to escape only buying an 'Obama in Ghana 09' wristband.
Chatting to people on the street, and looking around at the shirts everyone here seems to either support Chelsea (Michael Essien) or Man Utd, although there are a few intermitted Arsenal shirts. I ask them if they'll stop supporting Chelsea when Essien leaves, but they don't really follow. I can drum up a bit of Kudos for my Nottingham roots with Junior Agogo having played for Forest though.
Friday 10th July
Another early start for the five of us Bunacs based in Kumasi as we leave for a scheduled bus departure of 4.30am, so Laura (who is going to be living and working at the same project as me), Duncan, Stacey and Becky leave Accra frustratingly just hours before Obama arrives. Not before slight drama when Laura puts her foot through some rotten wood and falls into a drain, but luckily enough she hasn't hurt her foot too much.
The bus journey to Kumasi takes around five hours and was relatively comfortable once we got out of Accra - the road out was blighted by enough holes to put Blackburn, Lancashire to shame, with the red clay surface made much worse by the recent rain. The only other blight on the journey was the incessant kitsch American god music played at high volume all the way - not ideally conducive for catching up on missing sleep.
At Kumasi we are met by William, Diana and Helen from SYTO, and run through a short outline of each of our projects followed by a stroll around town. On first impressions Kumasi seems slightly less chaotic, and a little less in your face than Accra, but still with a real feeling of hustle and bustle.
Helen is also the Director of Laura and mine's placement - Tiyah Development Centre - and we also meet Paul who we're to be working with, a friendly, quitely spoken young man with good English and the obligatory Ghanaian love of football. We travel to our town of Achiase by tro-tro. Tro-tros are passenger cars similar in look and size to a very old transit van crossed with a bus. We take our tro from the main station in Kumasi - right next to the largest market in West Africa and I've never seen such bedlam. The tros wait to be filled before they leave, so we're jammed in alongside market traders taking their wares home after the day. There are hundreds of tros, and they all try to edge out into the same space at the same time.
Once finally clear of the station we leave the town behind and the road becomes much clearer - it takes around half an hour to reach Achiase, ending in a much more rural area than the town. Once landed with a keen mixture of anticipation, excitment and nervousness we look on our new home, and meet our new family for the next few months.
As we pull in, our landlord Big Paul (we've learnt Tiyah Paul is 'Small Paul') is leaning on his balcony watching the world go by. Naked form the waist up, and a big man my first impression is of a friendly, but slightly stern man.
The set up isn't quite what I expected, through the back of Paul's large two storey home is a large open concrete courtyard with our compound the other side. We're sharing with Bridie, another volunteer from Australia, Malou and Rachel (Dutch and New York) are also here, but due to leave tomorrow. So for tonight only I sleep with the 'host family' in the house attached to ours - taking Malou and Rachel's room from tomorrow. Our area is not quite as basic as I feared and a decent size, we have running water, a flushing toilet and a camping type stove - relative luxury to what might have been. It seems most of the life here will take place outside in the concrete and trees of the courtyard.
Bernice from the host family cooks for us as she will every night - spicy chicken and rice - and we set about settling in and getting to know each other. I'm not quite sure who belongs to who, but we meet Bernice, Ahmed from our host family, plus kids, Enoch, Priscilla and Judy who all have an abundance affection and an obession of taking photographs with our digital cameras.
Today is a big day for all of Ghana with Obama arriving, and a proud Big Paul invites us up into his house to watch the US president arrive. Big Paul is very welcoming, speaks excellent English and has a very real curiosity about our lives back home. After a long day, we take the opportunity for an early night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)