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.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
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:
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!
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