Tone Deaf

My musical debut occurred in Mrs. Lyttle’s 4^th grade class, during our production of Dogs, Dogs, Dogs – a self-written parody of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s musical Cats. I played the inspired role of “Closet Girl,” a materialistic puppy, who along with her friends Snoodle, Anna Jean, and Tea Party were just four dogs in the group SCAT (no, at the time we were not aware of its meaning) looking to be adopted into a nice home.   At one point during rehearsals, we were recorded so that we could hear how it would sound to the audience (read: our parents).  When I heard myself belting out the lyrics, “Closet Girl’s my name/Without new clothes I wail/ I’m extremely trendy/From my head to my tail” (yes, I wrote them myself), I was shocked. When did my voice get so high and squeaky?  Why didn’t it match the pitch of the piano in the background?  

Since that fateful day in 1997, I have been well aware that while I love music, it is best if I don’t express this love by singing a capella in public.  When people ask me if I can sing, my reply is either “not well” or “very badly”.  Luckily, no one in my family is musically inclined (anyone who’s stood in front of us in church can attest to that), so I’ve never been too self-conscious about it.  But, imagine my dismay to learn that my coworker in Ghana, the girl who I would be living with for at least the first 4 months of my time here, was not only in Gospel Choir and an a capella group… but she also placed 3^rd in Dartmouth Idol 2010!! No joke, I was nervous. I feared that she would be mortally offended by my off-key renditions of Iyaz, Beyonce, even Ke$ha. THANK GOD – she’s not. At least, she hasn’t said anything to me yet…

But back to my point: I’ve found kindred spirits in Ghana. People here LOVE music, just like me! And, just like me, the ability to sing in key doesn’t really seem to matter! People here belt it out no matter how good they sound.  For the most part, it’s refreshing not to feel self-conscious. Occasionally though, I'll admit that I wish those who are tonally challenged (like me) were a tad more considerate of how they sound…  

Even though my past couple entries have been of a more serious and philosophical nature, I promise that life here is not all work and thinking about poverty.  It’s really fun too!! A large part of this is the presence of music everywhere: at the school’s morning and afternoon assemblies, at all the churches, on the radios of the local stores, and in our home.  Jamie and I have embraced the local genre, called HipLife, and have spent hours looking up lyrics, dancing around our room, and uploading songs from friends’ flashdrives.  We’ve also been to 3 (FREE!) concerts in the past 2 months.  Below are some of our favorites from what we’ve been listening to:

1) Sarkodie. He’s a Ghanaian rapper, who became famous last year when he won an award for being the “fastest rapper in Ghana”.  The first song of his we liked was called “Babe,” but we’ve recently gotten into “Borga”, shown below:

2) R2Bees. Apparently this groups name is an acronym for “Refuse to Be Broke”.  Given the popularity of their song “Kiss Your Hand” on the radio, I’d have to guess that they’re doing okay.  We really like it, and I’m posting it here because it’s a good example of the HipLife sound.  Enjoy!

3) Castro ft. Asamoah Gyan.  This song isn’t necessarily one of our favorites, but I think it’s worth including.  For those who watched Ghana in the World Cup quarterfinals, you might remember the missed penalty kick by Asamoah Gyan that cost Ghana the match.  Well, if that career fails him, he can always fall back on his budding music career… or not. Despite being hated on for spending time recording a music video when he should have apparently been practicing his penalty kicks, this song (African Girls – its kinda like a Ghanaian Mambe #5) gets a lot of airtime, and I personally like it a lot:

It’s not only homegrown Ghanaian music that is popular here.  The radios play a lot of Nigerian music (like PSquare), American hiphop (and even some American country!), and of course, Jamaican reggae.  Bob Marley is popular, no surprise there, but Jamie and I are slightly obsessed with the various remixes that we hear of this song: “Hold You” by Gyptian. She knew it from this past summer in the States, but as I didn’t hear it until after my arrival, it will forever remind me of Ghana:

So. That’s it. Well, that’s 4 samples of the 50 or so songs that we’ve become familiar with. But one thing that we don’t have access to is new American releases. So, for those of you who can, please comment or shoot me an email and let me know what’s playing on the radio, in the frat basements, etc. Iyaz’s “Solo” is getting way to much airtime on our speakers.  =)

Unintended Legacies

After almost two months of being “alone on the ground,” the President/Country Director of WPE (Ben Schwartz, Dartmouth ’06) arrived for an indefinite stay in Ghana. For a little background, WPE was founded as a result of Ben’s experience here at Manye. During his Junior Winter, he worked through a volunteer organization and happened to be placed at Manye Academy, a small school of about 30 students.  Ben was so affected by his time in Community 25 that he applied for (and received) a Lombard Grant to come back after graduation, during which time he taught in the primary school, and tried to help Mr Kabutey make positive changes to improve the quality of education.  This still wasn’t enough, so upon his return, he worked with some other Dartmouth students who also volunteered here at Manye to set up World Partners in Education. Since then, WPE has sent more than 10 volunteers to Manye, in groups of three or four, to work on projects with the kids. 

Fast forward to September, 2010 when Catherine and Jamie arrive to serve as WPE’s first set of Educational Consultants at Manye. As consultants, we’re supposed to be separate from the school – we’re here to empower the current stakeholders, not do their jobs for them. Another important part of our work here is working with WPE’s Monitoring & Evaluation Committee for data collection, so that we can actually make sure that our projects and interventions are doing some good. Unlike the volunteers, who immediately jumped into doing Creative Arts projects with students and tutoring those who had fallen behind, so as not to waste a day of their 2 months, Jamie and I were instructed to take things slow, to focus on building relationships with all stakeholders, not to jump into projects just because we’re touched by the hardships the kids here face.  Along these lines, it was also expressed to us that it’s not our job to shower the community (or the kids) with presents; we need to navigate power dynamics, and spending lots of money could be a challenge to that. From my (limited) experience with international development, this is a pretty standard policy for NGOs, and since my income for the year is zilch, I had absolutely no problem adopting this philosophy.

But here’s where things got tricky. Because Jamie and I were the first ‘consultants,’  we were also the first obrunis at Manye who weren’t there to spend all their time playing with kids, buying them biscuits, or showing movies on Friday afternoons. The first couple weeks we were there, it was unbelievable (to us) how many of the younger students, who didn’t know our names, would come up to us and say, “Madam, buy me biscuits”.  One day, when I was wearing a headband to go jogging, I was shocked when a girl who happened to be a favorite of the summer volunteers, looked at me with a straight face and said, “Madam, when you leave, you give me your headband.” My immediate reaction was “Hell no. Not when you ask like that.”  But no worries – I didn’t blurt that out. I managed instead something much more neutral and noncommittal, like, “We’ll see”. 

Because is it really their fault? What else could they expect, when for the past couple years, groups of young, enthusiastic obrunis come over for two months at a time. And what are they here for? They’re here to experience Africa, to learn about international development, to make a difference in the lives of kids. And I have no doubt that they do. Because for every few of the annoying “Madam, buy me biscuits,” I encountered a “Madam, will you send this letter to Madam _____?” And on opening these letters to scan and email them to former volunteers, I see notes of labored English talking about how they are working hard in school and how they are reading better and how they miss Madam ____.  So I’m not condemning volunteer programs; I really do believe that individual relationships can make a difference in the life of a student, and I really do think that the kids here deserve to be treated special every once in a while.  And to be honest, part of me wants do be the one to do that. I want to connect with a child, to develop a close relationship, and know that I’ve made a profound difference in his or her life.  I mean, let’s be real… who wouldn’t want that?

But what I’ve realized here is that the quest for those relationships, and the more tangible effects of those relationships, have side effects. The intention is to make the kids happy, to open their eyes to the potential of a brighter future. To show them what life could be like if they study hard, do well in school, and stay out of trouble.  But the unintentional legacy is the common belief that every obruni (especially us younger ones) is here for the same reason.  And even if most are here trying to create a brighter future, we’re not all trying to do it by buying presents or even teaching kids how to read. 

Drumroll Please...

After 5 weeks and 3 days (not that I was counting) ...

WE HAVE POWER!!!!!!

Or, as Ghanaians say, we have "lights on"!

Jamie and I are this happy:

This is Tetteh, a relative of Mr K's who lives with us and is in Class 4 at Manye.

Now that my computer use will be more regular (knock on wood), I'll be able to post more frequently. So stay tuned!

"Ghana is Easy," but "Life is War"

Sometimes, not having electricity is a blessing in disguise. I was originally going to blog about the first quote in the title, but having to wait allowed me to encounter the second, and I think a comparison between the two is much more interesting than either one on its own.  What I find so striking is the fact that both of these statements were made as a general description of what it's like to live in Ghana.

Scenario #1: Tuesday evening (Oct. 19), Jamie and I were walking through the community, trying to meet parents of Manye's students, and explain our first project, a School Improvement Team comprised of parents, teachers, and students.  Sammy, one of the teachers at Manye, was accompanying us to act as translator; despite having English as their official language, many older Ghanaians only speak "local" languages.  We had spoken with a few of these when we arrived at the next house, only to find one particular guardian (the aunt of 2 students in JHS) was a loud, talkative woman named Joy who spoke American-accented English, a result of the 23 years she spent living in NJ, NY (she graduated from Syracuse) and IL. It was so refreshing to have a "high-speed" conversation and to be perfectly understood.  In the course of the chat, which like many of our conversations here focused on our adjustment to life in Ghana, Joy, the aunt, made the comment that "Ghana is easy".  She meant that it is relatively (and surprisingly) easy to find any Western luxuries here -- you just have to know where to go in Accra.  Relative to Ghana, most other African nations are less developed (especially in rural areas) than the 'Greater Accra' region where we stay, and on the walk back home, I realize that she's entirely right.  With internet cafes accessible on foot, guaranteed access to clean water, with American chocolate and clothing just a car ride away, Jamie and I really haven't been living the toughest of lives.  Even as annoying as it is to do without electricity... to be honest, it really hasn't inconvenienced us; it just makes us feel more hard-core. But we're not...

Scenario #2:  Friday evening (Oct. 22), Jamie and I were in Accra, having just finished our weekly Twi lesson (this one was, helpfully, on bargaining in the marketplace), we went to spend the evening with our friends Jimmy and Faisel.  First, Jamie and I watched their dance group rehearse, and then we just hung out and talked. Faisel and I talked a lot about education and children in Ghana, and he told me that he's working hard now ("hustling" to be exact), so that when he has kids, they'll have a better life, and better education, than he has had.  He said that when he was younger, he liked school a lot, but when money got scarce and his parents couldn't afford school fees, he realized that he spent much of his time during school thinking about feeding his family instead of studying for class.  Eventually he dropped out, and since then been what you would call an small-time entrepreneur, constantly trying to 'get by' and help out his family and friends.  This is when he made his comment that "Life is war, man" -- he didn't mean violent or bloody, because Ghana has been pretty safe and stable for at least the past decade; he meant that it's a constant struggle to survive and move forward. My first reaction to his casually stated philosophy was to giggle from disbelief.  Freshly removed from the East Cobb and Dartmouth bubbles, I still see the world as being full of opportunities, not challenges.  But I quickly realized that my point of view is, in itself, a luxury, a result of my family's and my country's economic success.  I've never met a challenge that I feared was too great (except maybe one or two poorly chosen courses at Dartmouth), and that has given me a confidence in myself and my future that I don't see among young people here.

So who is right? Is life in Ghana easy, or is it war? Coming here from the States automatically provides me with a standard of living that is completely foreign to most of the people with whom I interact, even when I seem to be "roughing it".  The coexistence of two such disparate views says more to me about privilege and income inequality than any list of genie coefficients or economic theory. It also solidifies my personal vision of international development and why I want to pursue a career in that field.  I want to help create a world where fewer children grow up having to choose between food and education, a world where fewer children think that life is war.

Tropicalization

Tropicalization seems to be a buzz word for us here in Ghana, referring to our ability to adapt to the new surroundings.  It has been used in a variety of contexts: first, getting over the initial jet lag; adjusting to the hot temperatures and the mosquitoes; becoming familiar with the local foods and not suffering from "runny stomachs" as they call them (luckily, Jamie and I have been runny-stomach-free).  I think for us, the past two weeks have been a lesson in tropicalizing to the lack of electricity at the house.

Like I said before, I thought we were doing a pretty good job.  But this past weekend, we decided to escape for a couple days and traveled down to Kokrobite Beach, where some friends of ours were performing at a guest house.  We stayed for two nights, and enjoyed the change of pace from our daily light-less routines at the school.  There was a beautiful beach just outside, music at night, and lots of fellow obrunis walking around. We were able to actually able to stay up way past sundown and sleep under a fan at night (I had forgotten how nice that was).  I also managed to get a little sunburned after falling asleep in the sun on Saturday afternoon, further proof that I'm not fully "tropicalized". All in all, it was fantastic: we got to stop "fitting in with the community" and just be tourists for a couple days.

Now we're back in Community 25, still without electricity.  Most evenings after sundown (around 6:30pm), I go out to one of the classrooms that's lit with solar panels (pretty awesome) and read, while some of the JHS (middle school) are studying and doing their homework.  I'm currently about 400 pages into Acts of Faith, a novel about various individuals working in one region in present-day Sudan. For those who haven't read it -- I would highly recommend it.  Mark & Linda -- thank you for such a wonderful graduation present! Anyways, besides reading for a while every night, eating dinner, and taking a quick bucket shower, Jamie and I recently invested in a small battery-operated radio so that we can crank some tunes before falling asleep.  With that luxury, we don't even mind being in the dark!

Because many have asked, electricity is supposed to be returned "soon".  Almost every day, the headmaster says "tomorrow," but Jamie and I have learned not to get our hopes up, at least, not too much. I promise to update as soon as we DO have electricity... but until then... you can safely assume that we don't.

The Case of the Missing Power Line

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? For the past week, Jamie and I have been experiencing "life in Ghana without electricity". Last Thursday, we woke up to realize the power was out.  Actually, we didn't notice until lunchtime, when we tried unsuccessfully to combat the heat by turning on a fan.  Exploring outside, we saw that the rain and wind had knocked over some of the poles holding up the power lines leading to the house/school... mystery solved!  Mr. Kabutey bought new poles that afternoon, and when Jamie and I left to spend the evening in Accra (we went to a tribute concert at the Alliance Francaise for the Ghanaian musician Mac Tontoh) our minds were at ease, with the confidence we'd be plugged-in upon our return.

As it turns out, fixing the poles didn't solve the electricity problem.  As our cellphones died that night, we were unable to set our alarms; and as anyone who knows me can guess, I overslept the next morning.  Just my luck that the one time I need to get up at 6:45, I have no alarm.  Jamie roused me when she woke up at 7:20, and luckily my tardiness didn't cause any problems (as I've mentioned before, time here is pretty flexible). That morning, after asking the kids, I did learn that most of them don't have alarms, and instead have just trained themselves to wake up automatically at 5:30/6am -- SO impressive... But back to our electric mystery.  That morning, Mr. Kabutey discovered the cause of the power outage:  sometime on Thursday night, someone or someones came and cut the power lines, removing about 200 yards worth. They probably stole them in order to sell them again... the profit margin is infinite when the cost is 0!

Since then, Mr. Kabutey has been working (in true Ghanaian fashion) to get electricity restored to the house and school.  During this time, however, I've made some observations:

• It is possible to survive without electricity, if you have a neighbor who is willing to charge your cell phone for you.  Luckily for me and Jamie, Irene, the local shopkeeper who we've become friends with, has been more than generous in letting us charge every couple days. 
• Most Ghanaians, at least those with electricity, sleep with fans on.  These people have been quite impressed with our ability to do without for a few days... and we had assumed that we were being wimps for occasionally wanting one!
• Madame Emma, our "host mom," says it's not really any harder to cook without electricity, as long as she has a torch-style flashlight.  But Jamie and I are still impressed with the quality of food produced in the dark with charcoal fires.
• No electricity = earlier bedtimes.  As soon as we finish dinner and our showers, Jamie and I have been climbing under the mosquito nets.  True, I've been reading by flashlight a little bit... but much less than normal! 

Our one concession to our obruni (foreigner/white person in Twi) dependence on luxuries has been coming to this internet cafe to check our email, reassure our parents that we're still alive, and update our boss in New Hampshire about the situation.  Needless to say, our "daily online reports" haven't been submitted since Wednesday, so I'm sure he's wondering what's up. Mr. Kabutey is hoping to have the new power line installed by Friday afternoon, so hopefully when Jamie and I return from our beach trip on Sunday evening, we'll be good to go.  Keep your fingers crossed!

So Ghana... and yet, not really

This past weekend provided Jamie and I with a couple of truly Ghanaian experiences that, ironically, reminded us that Ghana really isn't that different from home.

In the past three weeks, Jamie and I have begun to build friendships with many of the teachers here at Manye.  They're sort of the closest thing to peers that we've found: most are young (between 20-25) and are (obviously) interested in education.  Last week, a few of the ones that we're closest to offered to take us into Tema for a night out on the town.  Curious to see what other young people do for fun on weekends, we readily agreed! The night started at an outdoor restaurant/bar called T. Havana's, but after it got dark (and the mosquitos came out in full force) we headed to a night club that had free entry for ladies.  We had a lot of fun at the club, dancing with the teachers, people watching, trying meat pasties for a late-night snack, but the most striking part of the evening was how similar the dance floor was to ones that I've seen in the States.  The girls here were not dressed modestly with thighs covered, as most women we've seen have been; instead, it looked like any club in the US! And most of the music was American -- granted, most songs were at least a few years old, but that just made it easier for us to sing along.

The next day, after church with Madame Emma, we headed into Accra to meet with our potential Twi teacher. We met her at the Accra Mall, and stayed for another couple hours just hanging out -- buying chocolate at the ShopRite and eating it in the Food Court. The center of the food court is a play area for kids -- it's probably one of the only playgrounds in Accra.  On this particular Sunday, it was packed with kids and parents of so many nationalities.  I'm pretty sure the foreigners (non-Ghanaians) greatly outnumbered the locals. I could have just as easily been somewhere in the States or in Europe, wandering around a mall.

These two experiences reminded me that while the cultural differences between Ghana and the US can be striking, the similarities when it comes to entertainment and socializing (especially among the younger generations) are just as important.

Surprise! It's a Public Holiday!

In the Brandt’s Travel Guide to Ghana, which was kindly left here by former volunteers, Jamie and I learned that there are approximately 10 official public holidays in Ghana each year.  However, since our arrival, we’ve experienced two additional ones, which were not mentioned in the guide book.

On Sunday evening, at the house of our favorite neighbor, Irene (this neighbor) informed us that Tuesday (yesterday) was Dr. Kwame Nkrumah’s birthday,  and she had heard on Friday that it was a public holiday.  For Ghanaians, Kwame Nkrumah is a combination of George Washington and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Their first president after declaring independence from Britain, Nkrumah was also a proponent of the pan-Africa movement, which still has some followers here in Ghana.

Because of the late notice of the holiday, Jamie and I actually ended up working for most of it.  Some of the teachers asked us if we wanted to go to the beach with them, but as we had already made work commitments we had to ask for a rain check.

Our commitment in the morning was at GIU International Christian Academy, a Korean-owned senior high school (SHS) located nearby in Golf City.  Trying to kill two birds with one stone, Jamie and I decided to skimp money on transportation and learn more of the surrounding neighborhoods by walking there.  After looking at the map they posted on their website and talking with Irene and Dornuki, we figured it would take us about 45 minutes to an hour to get there, so at 9am we left for our 10:30 appointment.  On the way, we actually ran into a student from Manye who offered to walk with us and show us the way.  As 10am came and went, with the school nowhere in sight, we decided to call the school and check the directions.  Trying not to run late, we hopped in a taxi, with the directions to take us to the Golf City Station; to our acute embarrassment, the driver basically retraced our steps from the past half, forcing us to realize that we had basically walked in a big circle and then started heading west towards Accra, instead of north. Oops.

We reached the school around 11am, but luckily meeting times in Ghana are much more fluid than they are in the US. Our conversation with the school’s director was really interesting. Jamie was able to charm him right away by speaking in Korean, so for the first few minutes they just chatted away about our background and what we do, while I smiled and tried to look polite.  Their school is very religious – much more based on Christianity than even Manye.  He talked about the importance of helping students (Ghanaians in general) meet Jesus as their personal savior, and from what we could tell, this was his priority, while education fell in behind that. He was really friendly though, and it was really nice for us to see another school other than Manye.  We decided to enjoy the lovely weather (not a cloud in sight) and navigate our way back to Manye. This time, the walk took just under one hour. But it was one hour in direct sunlight, and Jamie and I could feel the UV rays. (My first sunburn in Ghana – but don’t worry, it’s already almost gone!)

In honor of the holiday, and our slow but growing introduction to Ghanaian food, Irene invited us over for a late lunch.   The best part, from our point of view, is that social events like this count as work (wahoo!) because Jamie and I are trying to get involved in the community.  Irene served T.Z. (pronounced Tee Zed), which actually stands for Tuo Zafi, a very popular Ghanaian dish. It involved mashed corn balls -- kind of like banku or mashed potatoes, depending on your point of reference -- pieces of meat, and a SPICY (I’m going to have a mouth of steel come next August) sauce made from tomatoes, palm oil, red chili peppers, and green leaves that looked/tasted a little like spinach.  Traditionally, Ghanaians eat this with their hands, using the starch to scoop up the sauce, but Irene had kindly provided us with large spoons, which she encouraged us to use. For beverages, her husband served alcohol. This was the first time we’ve been offered booze in Ghana, as Mr. Kabutey doesn’t drink and doesn’t really approve of it.  We were hesitant to accept any of the Johnnie Walker Black Label that he brought out (so classy), but we did accept a local beer that tasted a little like Heineken. The meal was spicy, delicious, and very filling.  We didn’t have room for a real dinner that night, instead snacking on fried plantains and our favorite cabbage salad.

Despite the fact that we ended up working for several hours of the day, the slower pace was a nice break from our busy schedule over the past week.  We went to bed without showering (Madame Emma is in the process of changing the shower curtain) but well-rested and ready for a typical work day in the morning. 

Akwaaba to Manye

The title of this blog means “Welcome to Manye” in Twi, one of the most popular local (but unofficial) languages.  Hopefully this post will give you guys a little insight into what my purpose here in Ghana is, so that future updates will fit into this general picture!

I am happy to report that I am well and truly settled in here in Community 25. It’s actually hard to believe that I haven’t even been here for two weeks; all the basics are becoming routine.   For those of you who aren’t fully aware, I’m working as an Educational Consulting for an NGO called World Partners in Education (WPE for short). WPE is based in the US, but partners with various schools in Ghana to promote quality education, by inspiring informed action.  Basically, I’m here to help one particular school access its own resources and channel them into effective programs.  I’m working (at least temporarily) with a partner, Jamie (fellow Dartmouth ’10) at Manye Foundation School, a local NGO that provides low-cost schooling for children living in and around Community 25 and the Kpone Barrier just outside Tema.  Here's a link show you exactly where I’m living and working: Manye on Google maps

Technically, my position is an unpaid fellowship. Luckily, however we do get some benefits. WPE covered the cost of our flight over to Ghana and is also paying for room and board for us to live in the house of Manye’s headmaster, who is called Mr. Kabutey. Jamie and I are sharing a cozy room (with electrical outlets and our own fan).  Each of us has a set of bunk beds: we sleep on the bottom and have used the top as a makeshift shelf or closet, since we don’t have one. Aside from the bed, the room is equipped with a small laundry line (at least, we’ve turned it into a laundry line) and a small hand mirror on the wall.  We’ve tucked our suitcases into the corners, but are also still using them for storage.  Here’s a picture of my half of the room:

And this is what Mr. Kabuety’s house looks like from the outside:

As a consultant starting a new project, I have two main responsibilities: relationship-building and information gathering. Specifically, I’m trying to get to know management (aka Mr. Kabutey), the teachers, parents, students, community members… pretty much everyone in the area. I’m also trying to learn as much as possible about Manye: what is their daily schedule like; what problems do they have; what challenges have they overcome; what are relationships like between students, teachers, management; what behaviors characterize education in Ghana; how does Manye compare to other private/public/rich/poor schools.  I’m basically trying to get a crash-course on what are all the influences affecting a student’s education at Manye.   What this means for my day-to-day schedule is that Jamie and I have spent a lot of time observing, taking notes, and asking question.

One particularly interesting (and often entertaining aspect) of this assignment has been attending at least one class taught by each of the teachers.  We’re still not quite through it (we have 2 more tomorrow, and maybe more next week as well), but we have some fond memories already.  With the KG/Nursery classes, we learned song and dances like “Shoe Fly, Don’t Bother Me” and “Every Little Cell in my Body is Happy”.  The moves to these dances would have been quite a challenge for American students, but Ghanaians seem to learn how to use their hips from a very young age.  There are many other differences as well. One of the most shocking things that Jamie and I witnessed was the following story, which was told to Class 4 (equivalent to US 4^th Grade) during their Citizenship Education:

“One day, three men went  walking through a forest.  They came upon some cannibals, who demanded to eat them.  When the men begged for mercy, that cannibals said, ‘OK. What each of you must do, is bring us a fruit. We will then do something with that fruit, and if you can manage to keep a straight face, you will go free.”  So the first man came back with an apple.  The cannibals pushed it into his anus [direct quote], and the man’s face changed as he let out a scream of pain.  So the cannibals ate him.  The second man saw this and so he brought a bunch of grapes.  This time, the cannibals had no problem pushing the fruit into the man’s anus, because the grapes were so small.  But all of a sudden, the man started laughing; because his face had changed, the cannibals ate him.  These two men met up in heaven, and first man said to the other, ‘Hey! Why are you here man? The grapes were no problem – you shouldn’t have made a face.’  And the second man replied, ‘I know. It was fine, but then all of a sudden I saw the third guy coming back from the forest – and he was carrying a pineapple’.  [Here the teacher paused for a minute before saying…] and that is the importance of education".  

Needless to say, Jamie and I were flabbergasted. It was inconceivable that 1) that story would be told by a teacher to students and 2) would be told to a group of 10 year olds! But like I said, some things are just different here, and our first couple weeks are purposefully designed to help us adjust to that. 

The Best Laid Plans...

Hi everyone! My first update from Ghana is coming to you from Accra Mall, on the outskirts of the capital.  Jamie and I are here at the internet cafe and are about to spend the day in the city checking out the Eid festivals (the end of Ramadan).  I've now been in Ghana for a week (as of 7:30 this morning) and am loving it.  The adjustment has been pretty easy, with a few small snafoos:

• Jamie got stuck in traffic last Thursday, and missed our flight.  So instead of us arriving together, I had a 4 day weekend alone before her arrival this Tuesday.
• My ATM card doesn't work at the Barclay's because it's not a debit card. Dad, I fully blame you for always picking credit over debit (just kidding). But I am going to have to figure out the most cost effective way to get money, because I don't want to be charged everytime I use a Standard Chartered.
• We (Jamie and I) keep failing to get the internet set up at our house. First, the Zain office in Tema was out of modems. Now that we're in Accra, we can't access the money WPE wired us for it because of Eid.

But all in all, like I said, the adjustment has been pretty easy. I'm learning to navigate the transportation system (waving down tro-tros), learning my way around Community 25 (the neighborhood where I'm living), and slowly adjusting to the heat and humidity.  For a comparison... it's like Atlanta in August, without the air conditioning. I also have a cell phone here, and I welcome all texts and phone calls (since I don't have to pay for them!) My number is +233 26 841 4265 if you ever want to say hi.

My time is running low, so I'll say bye for now.  I hope everyone is doing well and that the Labor Day weekend was fun.  Hopefully the next time I write I will be sitting in my room at Manye using our Zain 3G... but as you know, the best laid plans...

Hi Everyone!

This is the blog I'll be keeping for the next year (11.5 months to be exact) while I'm working and living in Ghana.  The frequency of updates will largely depend on my access to internet, but I'm currently aiming for posts about once a week. No promises though! 

Right now, I'm about 12 hours away from departure. While Delta does offer direct service from Atlanta to Accra (the capital of Ghana, about an hour from where I'll be living), I'm actually connecting through JFK, which adds about 6 hours to the journey.  This inconvenience is most welcome, however, because it means that I get to share the transatlantic flight with my coworker Jamie (another Dartmouth '10).  It's always easier to land in a new place when you know at least one other person. 

One problem I've already noticed with this whole blogging thing is that it's horribly one-sided.  While y'all can stay updated on my life... I have no way to stay current on what's happening in your lives! So please leave comments or send me emails to keep me updated.  For those who don't have it, my email address is catherine.m.armstrong@gmail.com.

Last minute packing is calling... I'll post as soon as I can once I'm settled in Ghana.