I had a drink with some peace corps volunteers working in the area the other day and we had a funny conversation about things that have become completely normal to us. I thought I would share a few.
-The reason we could not go to the bank for 10 days was because it would be too busy with people depositing pay checks... for the entire first half of the month.
-In Tafi Atome recently, the members of one family blamed someone from a rival clan for the death of a cousin through the use of Juju (the cousin was in Mali at the time). So the chiefs and elders punished him in a 'traditional way'. This turned ugly when the convicted man took the chiefs and elders to the district court because there was no proof he was guilty, so his punishment did not 'agree with the law'...
-...The details here are a bit unclear, but in the end, the convicted man has demanded GHc 700 (about $735) from the chiefs and elders, or else someone will go to jail. This GHc 700 will, of course, come from the profits of the sanctuary (though the tourism project has nothing to do with the lawsuit)
-Last weekend, someone defecated in the Junior High School. When the teachers discovered it on Monday morning, they closed school and sent the children home. The school remained closed all week...
-...On Sunday (one week later), the priest and congregation gathered at the school after church to 'spiritually cleanse' it, which must happen before the doors are re-opened. School resumed on Monday, as if nothing had happened.
-This is the second time someone has pooped in the school since I've been living in Tafi; apparently it is a very common occurrence.
-Funerals in Ghana strongly resemble a celebration or festival. Recently, a young man died in a town nearby. His mother was from Tafi Atome and his father was from Kpeve, so there was much discussion on where he should be buried. It was finally decided that the body would be brought to Tafi Atome for the funeral then taken to Kpeve for burial. Apparently the father was not happy with this arrangement, so he went a day early and basically stole the body and took it back to Kpeve. So when the procession went to bring the body to Tafi Atome in style (the procession is a series of decorated tro tros full of villagers singing and drumming as loud as they can), there was no body...
-...nobody thought much of this; we simply returned to Tafi Atome and continued the celebration, without the guest of honor, well into the night.
-An education is hard to come by here. My friend is trying to go to school in Ho and has a friend in the states willing to help with his school fees, as long as he can prove he will use the money for school. So he went to Ho and asked his school for a letter stating he would be a student there. The school would not give him a letter because he was not yet a student, but he could not become a student without the letter for his sponsor. Catch 22.
-And my favorite. Each year during the dry season, there are 'controlled' bush fires all over Ghana. I have heard a few different reasons for this- to smoke out bushmeat, to fertilize the ground for farming, and to prevent out of control fires. Unfortunately, people are not all too careful about watching their fires, and have burned down most of the electricity poles in this part of the Volta region, leaving all of the villages in the area (Tafi Atome included) power-less...
-...We have been without power for a bit over a week now, and they say it will be at least another few weeks, maybe a month or two, before they are able to repair all of the poles. The best part is- this happens every year. Every year, bush fires destroy electricity poles and villages go without power for months. And nobody does anything about it.
These examples were a bit difficult to come up with for the very reason that they have become normal! It is not until I tell the stories to other people (tourists mostly) that I realize they are strange. I wonder what I will find abnormal when I return to the states...
**note: thank you for all the snail mail! If you have something to send and haven't sent it yet, just hold on to it--I will get it much faster if you just hand it to me when I get home!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Should I stay or should I go
Some of this post may sound like I’m arguing with myself, and that’s because I probably am. I have a constant battle taking place in my mind surrounding these decisions.
I always say that I only make plans in order to change them, and it’s true. When I decided to come to Ghana and started to prepare for the trip, I never excluded the possibility that my plans would change, perhaps drastically, in the course of the trip. And they have. I was ready to come to Ghana for eight months to work in an orphanage, live with a family, and travel on my own. Instead, I serendipitously met a wonderful friend with whom I did all of my travel for 4 months (that’s you, Mo!) and somehow ended up living in a monkey sanctuary. So life is full of surprises.
I feel that, although my goals seem to change regularly, I have accomplished a lot here. I experienced life living with a ‘middle-class’ family in Ghana and the many frustrations and heartbreaks involved with working in an orphanage. Since being at the monkey sanctuary, I feel I have truly left a mark. I helped change the percentage breakdown for the sanctuary’s profits, set up a new bank account, improve daily and monthly book keeping, set up a lock box for the daily profits, paint the office, put up a bulletin board of pictures, clean the desk (twice), begin a bike rental company, send a boy to university, and begin building an orphanage school for the village. And I’m not done yet. I still have some projects I am just starting or still working on. But for the most part, I feel I have accomplished what I came here to do (even if I didn’t know what that was at the time).
The sanctuary, as an eco-tourism project, is doing very well. It has a tourism management committee that, for the most part, cares deeply for the sanctuary and understands what must happen. The guides are arguably some of the best in the country. All money that comes in and goes out is recorded daily, calculated monthly, and distributed quarterly. Staying at the sanctuary is a wonderful tourist experience, and the majority of visitors thoroughly enjoy their stay, with no complaints to mention. Most of the problems that the sanctuary must still work out are not in my control to help. As far as the business of the sanctuary, I feel a bit like my work is done.
Likewise, Madam Charity (the one who runs the orphanage in Tafi Atome as well as one in the nearby town of Logba) is incredibly organized, motivated, and devoted to this new building project. Each of our meetings consists of her telling me what she has accomplished since the last time we met (which is always something). She seems to be giving me more advice than I am giving her! Though she asked me to keep the money and pay it as we need it, I wholly trust that she would use every cent towards its intended purpose if I left it to her.
I love this village. I love the laid-back atmosphere, the location, the welcoming attitude, the children, the food, the great friends I have made, the monkeys (of course), the seclusion, the magic of a small village, sometimes I even love the crazy politics and huge amounts of dust. Some days I want to live here for as long as I can. But that is only some days. Other days I cannot seem to accomplish anything I attempt for one reason or another, no tourists visit, and I find myself wondering what I am doing here. Some mornings I wake up with an ambitious to-do list and have a productive day; other days the only item on the agenda is waiting until it’s late enough to go to sleep again. Those days are hard.
A very wise man told me recently that I need to make sure I know what my personal goals are in being here. Those are the ones that are most important. Because, and I use his words here, “everything you fix will fall apart again after you leave”. I don’t think that is entirely true, as some things that we have ‘fixed’ they would actually have to try to break again, but it is a valid point nonetheless. So I tried to think back to what my personal goals were for this trip before I left, then what they were once I got here, then once I got to the sanctuary, and what they are now. In the beginning, I know I wanted to stay long enough to call the place home, to understand the culture, to experience life like they do, to challenge myself with the absence of known commodities (like fast internet, washing machines, and hot water), and to broaden my perspective of the world (sounds vague, but it happens automatically when you travel). I have done all of this, and more.
So the punch line is this: I am coming home earlier than I originally planned. This was an incredibly difficult decision to make, and I still question it about every 10 minutes. I think part of the reason it was so difficult was because as soon as I thought I wanted to leave earlier, staying became the new personal goal, the next challenge. But the purpose would only have been to say that I had, which is never a good reason to do anything. There are a few small projects I still want to work on here, and a few people I want to visit before I go, but nothing that will take me two more months. So I have changed my plane ticket and will now return to America in the first week of April. This allows me about 3 more weeks at the sanctuary, a week to travel in Ghana, and 2 weeks in Europe to acclimatize a bit before getting back to Richmond.
So I will see you soon.
I always say that I only make plans in order to change them, and it’s true. When I decided to come to Ghana and started to prepare for the trip, I never excluded the possibility that my plans would change, perhaps drastically, in the course of the trip. And they have. I was ready to come to Ghana for eight months to work in an orphanage, live with a family, and travel on my own. Instead, I serendipitously met a wonderful friend with whom I did all of my travel for 4 months (that’s you, Mo!) and somehow ended up living in a monkey sanctuary. So life is full of surprises.
I feel that, although my goals seem to change regularly, I have accomplished a lot here. I experienced life living with a ‘middle-class’ family in Ghana and the many frustrations and heartbreaks involved with working in an orphanage. Since being at the monkey sanctuary, I feel I have truly left a mark. I helped change the percentage breakdown for the sanctuary’s profits, set up a new bank account, improve daily and monthly book keeping, set up a lock box for the daily profits, paint the office, put up a bulletin board of pictures, clean the desk (twice), begin a bike rental company, send a boy to university, and begin building an orphanage school for the village. And I’m not done yet. I still have some projects I am just starting or still working on. But for the most part, I feel I have accomplished what I came here to do (even if I didn’t know what that was at the time).
The sanctuary, as an eco-tourism project, is doing very well. It has a tourism management committee that, for the most part, cares deeply for the sanctuary and understands what must happen. The guides are arguably some of the best in the country. All money that comes in and goes out is recorded daily, calculated monthly, and distributed quarterly. Staying at the sanctuary is a wonderful tourist experience, and the majority of visitors thoroughly enjoy their stay, with no complaints to mention. Most of the problems that the sanctuary must still work out are not in my control to help. As far as the business of the sanctuary, I feel a bit like my work is done.
Likewise, Madam Charity (the one who runs the orphanage in Tafi Atome as well as one in the nearby town of Logba) is incredibly organized, motivated, and devoted to this new building project. Each of our meetings consists of her telling me what she has accomplished since the last time we met (which is always something). She seems to be giving me more advice than I am giving her! Though she asked me to keep the money and pay it as we need it, I wholly trust that she would use every cent towards its intended purpose if I left it to her.
I love this village. I love the laid-back atmosphere, the location, the welcoming attitude, the children, the food, the great friends I have made, the monkeys (of course), the seclusion, the magic of a small village, sometimes I even love the crazy politics and huge amounts of dust. Some days I want to live here for as long as I can. But that is only some days. Other days I cannot seem to accomplish anything I attempt for one reason or another, no tourists visit, and I find myself wondering what I am doing here. Some mornings I wake up with an ambitious to-do list and have a productive day; other days the only item on the agenda is waiting until it’s late enough to go to sleep again. Those days are hard.
A very wise man told me recently that I need to make sure I know what my personal goals are in being here. Those are the ones that are most important. Because, and I use his words here, “everything you fix will fall apart again after you leave”. I don’t think that is entirely true, as some things that we have ‘fixed’ they would actually have to try to break again, but it is a valid point nonetheless. So I tried to think back to what my personal goals were for this trip before I left, then what they were once I got here, then once I got to the sanctuary, and what they are now. In the beginning, I know I wanted to stay long enough to call the place home, to understand the culture, to experience life like they do, to challenge myself with the absence of known commodities (like fast internet, washing machines, and hot water), and to broaden my perspective of the world (sounds vague, but it happens automatically when you travel). I have done all of this, and more.
So the punch line is this: I am coming home earlier than I originally planned. This was an incredibly difficult decision to make, and I still question it about every 10 minutes. I think part of the reason it was so difficult was because as soon as I thought I wanted to leave earlier, staying became the new personal goal, the next challenge. But the purpose would only have been to say that I had, which is never a good reason to do anything. There are a few small projects I still want to work on here, and a few people I want to visit before I go, but nothing that will take me two more months. So I have changed my plane ticket and will now return to America in the first week of April. This allows me about 3 more weeks at the sanctuary, a week to travel in Ghana, and 2 weeks in Europe to acclimatize a bit before getting back to Richmond.
So I will see you soon.
Monday, February 11, 2008
How's the Weather?
I had a funny conversation about the weather the other day. It began with the guy asking me about the weather at home right now. I tried to explain to him how unpredictable it is in Virginia so you never know how it's going to be outside until you are outside. His response: "but don't you have people that predict the weather for you"? I said yes, but they frequently get it wrong. He seemed confused and told me that we should take after the weathermen in Ghana because they are always right. I laughed and told him that I could be a weatherman in Ghana; it's not hard!
I arrived in Ghana in September, the middle of the rainy season, and it strongly resembled a Virginian August, but perfectly consistent. The rain tapered off around October and completely quit by November. It was then that it started getting dusty--REALLY dusty. By the time I returned from Ethiopia in January, it was possible to look directly at the sun, without sunglasses, at any point during the day; it just looked like a large yellow moon. The blue sky completely disappeared, as did the horizon (no pretty sunrises or sunsets, the sun just dissapeared around 5:30), and we were left with a thick grey haze in every direction. This is the effect of the Harmattan, a wind carrying dust from the Sahara. I knew the dry season would be dusty, but I had no idea what it would really be like. Everything (including my skin, clothes, hair) was coated in dirt. It was impossible to stay clean. The perk was that the temperature dropped. Though it still got plenty hot during the day, the mornings were cool enough for a jacket. But the cool mornings lasted less than a month.
You may notice I'm using the past tense. A few days ago, I saw the outline of clouds in the sky. The next day, the clouds were clearer, and on Friday, it rained! I happened to be walking home from Logba (a town 5 km away) at the time, so I was caught completley off guard and got drenched. The road went from dusty to a river of mud in minutes and the air cleared immediately. When the rain stopped, the sun was bright and the sky was blue. We basically went from dry season to rainy season in 45 minutes. Since then, it has rained a bit, but nothing like that first day. The temperature is climbing and the sun has returned to it's brutally hot state.
So that's the story here; what's yours?
I arrived in Ghana in September, the middle of the rainy season, and it strongly resembled a Virginian August, but perfectly consistent. The rain tapered off around October and completely quit by November. It was then that it started getting dusty--REALLY dusty. By the time I returned from Ethiopia in January, it was possible to look directly at the sun, without sunglasses, at any point during the day; it just looked like a large yellow moon. The blue sky completely disappeared, as did the horizon (no pretty sunrises or sunsets, the sun just dissapeared around 5:30), and we were left with a thick grey haze in every direction. This is the effect of the Harmattan, a wind carrying dust from the Sahara. I knew the dry season would be dusty, but I had no idea what it would really be like. Everything (including my skin, clothes, hair) was coated in dirt. It was impossible to stay clean. The perk was that the temperature dropped. Though it still got plenty hot during the day, the mornings were cool enough for a jacket. But the cool mornings lasted less than a month.
You may notice I'm using the past tense. A few days ago, I saw the outline of clouds in the sky. The next day, the clouds were clearer, and on Friday, it rained! I happened to be walking home from Logba (a town 5 km away) at the time, so I was caught completley off guard and got drenched. The road went from dusty to a river of mud in minutes and the air cleared immediately. When the rain stopped, the sun was bright and the sky was blue. We basically went from dry season to rainy season in 45 minutes. Since then, it has rained a bit, but nothing like that first day. The temperature is climbing and the sun has returned to it's brutally hot state.
So that's the story here; what's yours?
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