Wednesday, September 18, 2013

My First Week in Ghana

I have said this to everybody that has asked: “Ghana is different than America.” I expected it to be different, but I could have never imagined how it really is.

Because of a badly timed nap, I missed getting on the same flight as the rest of the crew. I paid more for my ticket, but I only had one layover; they had three. The trip from JFK to Accra was about ten hours long, but it felt twice as long because my travel buddy stole my window seat and the guy in front of me leaned back in his seat. I didn’t catch my first glimpse of Africa until we were starting to descend: it was cloudy, and one could only get periodic glances between billows.
 
Outside Abomosu
You could feel the humidity right as you got off the plane. Immigration and customs were incredibly less official than they were when I traveled to Chile and Peru: my bags didn’t even get opened! But they did take everybody’s fingerprints. We were picked up by Master Fufu, the adoptive son of Stephen Abu, Sr., who we are staying with. Master Fufu (I don’t actually remember his real name) works for Stephen Abu, Jr., who owns a tour company in Ghana. Fufu drove us to Jr.’s office, where we spent several days before we travelled inland.

Accra was what I had prepared myself for. It reminded me of Peru: there were street vendors down every street in town, taxis honked every time they drove by, and the shops and restaurants were informal except if you went to the nicer places and paid more. We originally were only going to spend one day in Accra before we left, but because Stephen, Sr. was speaking at a mission conference near Accra, we stayed for three nights so we could meet Stephen and bring him back with us.


I went crazy in Accra. We slept much to catch up with our lack of sleep on the plane and to adjust to the time change. Otherwise, we stayed in Stephen, Jr.’s office, which Allan pointed out was more like a compound. We were walled in on every side, and razor wire lined the tops of the walls. A security guard was present every day and every night as well, and, at night, the office was boarded shut. We did not have much to do, so we just chilled in the office most of the day. We had Wi-Fi, which was heaven sent, but to stay sane, we would go out to eat and occasionally stroll to the mall.

We met Douglas at the office, who is the main coordinator for the SEED program. He lives in Akwadum, a small village outside of Abomosu, where we are working. He trekked out to Accra to meet us and to do some business. Beverly and I went with Douglas to purchase a printer, which actually took most of one day, and we got to see other parts of Accra from a taxi window. We discovered that the office is in a nicer part of Accra; everywhere we went, the city seemed to get dirtier and poorer. Seeing the difference made me grateful to be where we were.

We landed on Tuesday, and Friday we left for Abomosu. One of Stephen, Jr.’s drivers took us. We picked up Stephen, Sr. along the way and traveled the long, bumpy road to our destination.

Bumpy is an understatement. The road had more potholes than people in Ghana, and it would switch from paved to dirt, paved to dirt. There are no lines painted on the road; nobody would follow them. Cars and buses weaved in and out of traffic, passing each other and avoiding the especially deep holes. I was crammed into the back seat next to the luggage, so I tried to sleep for most of the journey. When I wasn’t sleeping, I played with my new camera to figure out all the settings. I couldn’t hear much of the conversation, so I watched the palms and ivy pass by covered with the dust of each passing vehicle.

We went through a series of villages, then suddenly arrived to the correct one. We turned off the main road and found ourselves at the home of Stephen, Sr. The home is modest compared to the homes in the States, but here, it really is a mansion. The white stucco and tin roof doesn’t contrast with the homes around it, keeping down the house’s pride. The interior, although inferior to houses I’m used to (maybe not my parent’s house haha), is immaculate. There is electricity, fans, and A/C units in every bedroom. There are kitchen appliances, running toilets, a TV, and furniture. Now that I have seen some of the other houses around, I am grateful we have a place like Stephen’s to live.


I am grateful for those things now, but I was not ready for life in Abomosu. Walking around the city and being an eyewitness to the lifestyle was eye opening. I share a bedroom with Allan, who left his wife in the States. Our bedroom only had two beds and a small desk, and I definitely was expecting at least a closet rod to hand my white shirts. My was so uncomfortable, causing me back pains and lost sleep, but how do you say that to somebody who is just happy to have a mattress?

Luckily, I had a quick adjustment to the culture, and I found that if I flipped my mattress, it was much more supportive and comfortable. We did not start working right away. We had Saturday all to our selves, and Sunday we attended the branch here. The chapel is a 30-minute walk away, but the missionary couple that lives a few doors down from Stephen gave us a ride that morning. Stephen is the branch president for Abomosu, so he asked us to introduce ourselves and, because he found out we were all musically inclined, to perform a musical number (they never have musical numbers). I played the organ, meaning I played the keyboard with the organ setting as long as the electricity stayed on. Most of the time, the people spoke in Twi, the native tongue, so we couldn’t catch what points were made, although we did know the jist.

Sunset from Stephen's house
The foods here are not various. We have already had every meal at least twice, and it hasn’t been a week. For breakfast, it is porridge, eggs, and toast or Milo (a chocolate energy drink) and toast. Otherwise, it is red red (plantains and beans), curry and rice, ramen casserole, or jeloff (rice stuff). We had peanut soup with rice balls and chicken once (meat is a rarity), and we hardly have veggies. Fruit is abundant, though. Pawpaws (papayas) are in season, and oranges are starting to be. The oranges have a thick rind, and are actually green. We have had blood oranges too, but they weren’t sweet yet. Stephen says the oranges will just get sweeter as the season develops, and we will have a taste of pineapple before we leave.

Mosque in Asunafo
Monday was our first real working day. We were to meet Douglas in Ekorso (pronounced Acoso), and we took a taxi out there. We spent the morning visiting past loan recipients, and the visits hit home for me. These people couldn’t afford to start a business, but through the SEED program, they can now work. They can increase their capacity to create so they can sell more. They now have more opportunities or improved working conditions. I am very excited to deeply immerse myself in the work.

We walked back to Abomosu, which took about an hour. After lunch, we walked to Asunafo to meet more recipients. The recipients all report to the loan collector, and the collectors have introduced us to the recipients. Douglas and the collectors have been our connection to the ways of Ghana, taking us through the culture and helping us communicate with the people. The collector in Asunafo is the branch president for the city, so we also have a religious connection with some of the people.

Monday was a long day, but Tuesday was even longer. We taxied to Nkurakan (pronounced N-cra-kain) to have a meeting with the people there. We met in a shack-like Pentecostal church, where we sat in front of the residents and answered any questions they have. The program is familiar to most people, because the project started two years ago. Beverly and Allan will teach the classes there, but Garrett and I have to travel through Nkurakan to get to the village where we will teach, Amonom.

After our meeting there, we rushed to Amonom for another meeting. We met with the Elders of the village, who were slightly skeptical of our program at first, but soon welcomed us. The meeting here felt more formal than the previous meeting, but it was run similarly. After we introduced ourselves, the Elders introduced themselves, and Douglas spoke to the congregation, in Twi, about our program. After, the floor was opened for questions, and we arranged class times. The meeting was adjourned, and we trekked farther down the road to Akokom for more collections and to meet more people.

Asunafo
Most of the people we met in Akokom had already paid off their loan and will be attending the second time funding class. Beverly and Alan will run those classes, and Garrett and I will host another city for second time funding. The people were especially nice here, and the collector, Issac, gave us some sugar cane to try. It was so delicious! He shaved the cane right in front of us, hacked off a piece with his machete, and gave it to us to suck on. You don’t eat sugar cane; you just chew and savor the sweet juice that comes out, then spit out the rest. After the juice is sucked out, it feels like you are chewing on wood, but it never has a bad flavor. He gave us the shaft of sugar cane so we can finish it later.
Ama, a loan recipient from Akakom

We were late for lunch (when we are late, the food just sits on our little table until we arrive to eat). Our break time was cut short when David, the collector for Sankubenase (pronounced San-cu-ben-a-si) knocked on our door to have us go with him. We taxied to the closest town to Abomosu to meet the Sankubenase recipients. Most of them were new, because they just had classes this last summer. Also, Sankubenase has a chapel, but those are the only three in the area (Abomosu, Asunafo, and Sankubenase).

There are only a few things I really don’t like so far. First, everywhere we go, we hear, “Obroni, Obroni,” which means white man. The children call out to us because white men mean free things. We cannot go outside with out hearing it over and over and over. We are here, partly, to change that mindset of free things. We want to encourage work and self-sufficiency, not handouts and reliance on foreigners. The other thing I hate is the shower. The water is freaking cold, there is no pressure, and it is not relaxing one bit. The shower is a hand-held fixture, so I quickly get wet, turn off the water, wash up, quickly rinse off, and I am finished with in three minutes. At home, the shower is a sanctuary, but now, its just a dreaded ritual. I will admit, the times when I am hot and sweaty make the cold shower fine.

I am starting to love it though. It is coming slowly, but the more that I work, the more I get excited and feel dedicated to the program. I keep thinking of the end: it will be snowy and freezing when I get back! And it seems so far away! But I will put my head down and keep trucking!                                                                                              
Issac (middle) and children from Akokom

1 comment:

Unknown said...

They had Milo in Peru too!