tHe ArT of FeTchInG WaTEr

I’ve been thinking lately that I don’t really have any news to catch you up on, or any gossip to pass on. But I started to ponder what I had done in the past few weeks and that got me thinking (I know I think WAY TO MUCH) again, but really I have a few things to catch you, my devoted readers, up on.

1. Peace Corps Ghana has officially gone to a 3 time a year intake cycle of PCV’s. This means that the groups are now sector specific, and usually around the number of 25 people. In the beginning of October the NRM (Natural Resources Management) Group came… technically this is my sector, but with a slight change. Peace Corps Ghana has combined Environment and Small Business Enterprise to make the Natural Resources Management sector. For every10-week training that takes place PC has PCVT’s (Peace Corps Volunteer Trainers). I was asked to be one of the PCVT’s for this new NRM group. Meaning I would get to spend about 3 weeks with them (well actually I’m just getting back form it), traveling all around Ghana to facilitate in their off site technical training.

2. I just had my first battle with malaria. It was like a giant wave swallowing my body whole. Giving me probably the highest fever I’ve ever had, and the worst aches and pains I ever want to experience. Not a fun experience, but wow, I must say that they drugs work fast. After 6 days of trying to figure out what I had I was back to feeling normal with in 24 hours of taking the drugs.

3. All PCV’s were invited to the US Ambassador’s house for another amazing Thanksgiving Feast. Our plates were filled with turkey, ham (well not actually my plate… still a vegetarian), stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, salad, green bean salad, other assorted veggies, and corn bread muffins. And if this meal couldn’t get any better pumpkin and pecan pie were offered. Even if I couldn’t be with my family at least I was able to spend this holiday with my Peace Corps Family.

4. The first round of Cloth Flour Sac Grocery Bags that my Women’s Group is making have made their way across the rather large pond and are now being sold at the Little Red Farm Store at Osage Gardens and at their winter farmer’s markets. Stop by to check them out.

5. The rains have stopped. The dust in lingering in the air, and as if it’s not already hot enough, it’s only going to get hotter. Go Dry Season!

6. Time is flying… 18 months in country, and only 8 more months to go!

Part of our role as a Peace Corps Volunteer is to educate our villages about other sectors, and HIV/AIDS… meaning that as an environment volunteer I could do a latrine building project or a nutrition project. Many volunteers that aren’t education volunteers find themselves teaching in schools, and teachers try to incorporate food security by building a school garden, etc. Our assigned projects may have something more specific with our assigned sectors, but really we can do any work that we think our village needs. In our initial training that takes place our first three months in country we generally learn about our sector though (for me that was environment). There has now been two groups to come in after I came to Ghana and the training has changed a bit… meaning they are getting specific HIV/AIDS training during their 3 months training rather than later on in their service. As part of their HIV/AIDS training they are sent to a PCV who volunteers to host some new trainees to give them hands on HIV/AIDS experience in doing a village project.

I opted to host some new trainees to help me with an HIV/AIDS project in my village because it was time I hit upon the required HIV/AIDS education that we are suppose to give (I did give a small HIV/AIDS education class to one of the churches, but only about 50 people came, and I was trying to educate the younger generation this time). 2 trainees (who had only been in country about a month) ventured to my site to help me work with the Junior High School (JHS) students to raise HIV/AIDS (and other STI’s) awareness.

all the Roman Catholic school children crammed into one classroom

In two days we went to two JHS schools, raising HIV/AIDS awareness for about 200 students. We started at the District Assembly’s School (also known as public school) with about an hour long question answer session… we asked the questions and when we called upon a kid to answer the question and they got it right they got a piece of candy (to get people to answer questions or even attend a meeting it’s always god to have a bribing mechanism.) We asked the obvious questions… “What is an STD?” “What is HIV?” “What is AIDS?” “How can one contract HIV/AIDS?” “What are the 3 methods of prevention in terms of it being a sexually transmitted disease?” ”Can HIV/AIDS kill?”… And we got the not so obvious answers back… “You will get HIV/AIDS by sharing a drink with someone who has it.” “Sharp objects is the main way to contract HIV/AIDS.”

one student holding up a picture explaining how he/she will

prevent themselves form getting HIV/AIDS

From the question portion we broke out into 3 groups and each individually led an interactive game to reiterate what actions are high risk vs. low risk to contracting the virus, the 3 ways to prevent getting any STI (sexually transmitted infection… it’s what they say here), and a risky behavior game.

The last portion of our HIV/AIDS (and other STI’s) awareness day we divided the boys and girls up to answer questions that they might not want to ask in front of each other. The girls were rather shy to ask anything, but the boys were having a hay day with questions.

getting the students involved in HIV/AIDS education

It has suddenly come to my village’s attention (and the rest of Ghana it seems) that I don’t have any children.

I’ve been hassled from the beginning about being married… or not actually being married. I’ve told my village that I have a husband and he lives in Ghana doing other development work, and they’ve bought that… for the most part. And I’ve had few villagers remind me that I need to start having kids soon… yeah right.

But when my counter part asked me a few weeks back if I would stay for a 3^rd year in the village I was touched. Knowing that my village likes me, and wants to have me around means a lot (I’ve heard stories from other volunteers that their village didn’t like the last PCV that lived there, etc.) But I told my counter part that I needed/wanted to go back to the US without giving a reason. He came back to say that it’s probably good that I go back because I need to start having babies, because I’m getting past baby bearing age (at the ripe old age of 25, right.) I had to remind him that I’m not married (he knows the truth, but yet can’t comprehend it) and that I need to get married before I can even have children. As I tried to laugh it off, I told him the old childhood rhyme that we used to always sing to kids on the playground when we assumed someone had a crush on some one else… “First come love, then comes marriage, then comes baby…” My counterpart just shook his head at this… foreign concept.

The second time someone in my village brought it to my attention that I don’t have any children they made it more clear that I shouldn’t leave Ghana without having at least two babies… and they want them to be black (not trying to be politically incorrect). I always just laugh, because they don’t realize the jokes on them… I’m not having any babies (at least not in the next 5 years…)

The last concern that I don’t have any children came from a young female Ghanaian. She started the interrogation with asking, “where I’m from” and “what I’m doing in Ghana”. Then the topic suddenly changed to “how many babies do I have”? I responded with the usual “none”. And she came back to bite me with “why”? I gave the usual response “because I’m waiting till I get back to the US, finish getting my masters, get married and blah, blah, blah” (thinking that another female would understand.) She again responded with a bite in my face, “that it doesn’t matter if I haven’t finished my education, or that I’m not married, but I need to have at least 3 or more babies to keep me company, to pass on my genes, and because it’s a women’s job to have many, many children” (yeah well, not this woman.)

If Ghana only have such a thing as noise ordinance… if only I could call the police so they could give out noise violations, and if only the Ghanaians understood respect for other people… if only.

I still live in my small room, with my small window. My room is still in the middle of town, and things are never quiet… but usually manageable… well until the other week that is. Some neighbor, whose house is just across the street, just got back to town and is letting the world know (yes I pretty sure you can hear it over in the US) by the loudness he plays his music.

Ghanaians have this theory that if they want to hear music, well then so does everyone else. But I’m having a hard time thinking that everyone really wants to hear some bump and grind music with the base thumping at 3am (I know I sure as hell don’t… don’t mind the anger in my voice). Especially all the other houses that surround the place where the music is coming from.

After two sleepless nights with my bed shaking from the base that is coming from across the street I decided at 10pm (I usually go to bed at 8pm) to ask, beg, plead with the man to turn down the volume of his music, as least to a level where I wasn’t hearing it over my headphones and wasn’t feeling it.

The man threw out the argument that he wouldn’t then be able to hear his music (load of shit)… if I could hear it inside my room, with door and shutters closed, fan on full blast (great way to block out noise), and with my headphone is and playing music to loud for my own ears, then I’m sure he could hear it even if the volume was reduced small, small.

I stood there for about 5 minuets yelling at the man (yes I had to yell because the music was too loud to talk over) asking for him to turn the volume down. I finally got him to turn the volume down, and I walked away hoping that I would actually get some sleep.

Wrong… just as soon as I crossed the street he turned it up even louder than before, and left it playing until 7am. ARGGGGGG… I was so mad. I got my landlady (aka my Ghanaian Mother) on my side and now he has kept the volume down a bit (I can still hear it in my room with door and shutter closed, but not over my headphones and music at least) and he has been turning it off by around midnight. Yup praying for a long, long power outage now.

When I started the Kute-Buem Women’s Group I didn’t just want the women to work… I wanted this group of women to learn various skills, understand new ideas, and help promote a better Ghana for these women who are the change agents.

The first skill that I wanted them to learn was proper bookkeeping/money management/finances. If this group is going to generating income then they need to know how to keep the books. But I didn’t just want this training to go towards the sewing project or the farming project, I wanted these women to take proper money management and apply it to their own life, to a business they may have.

I called upon another PCV who could teach these women the best way to keep the books, and how to best apply this to not only the Women’s Group but to their own lives. I got 9 out of my 15 women to come (I would say a pretty good turn out for non meeting day) the chalkboard was pulled out and the basic bookkeeping lesson was started. Two out of the nine have bank accounts (normally the cloth that the women wrap around themselves is the bank… if it’s not tied up in this corner, than maybe its in this corner…). A ledger was drawn up on the board and we started discussing the importance of keeping records. We then went over how to keep the records, and what everything in the ledger means.

The women were enthusiastic about learning how to monitor their expenses. Successful meeting I would say!

giving the talk

November? Is it really almost November? (wrote this in October) Time is flying, and I’m again lacking on updating the world on “my life” as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

I believe that it was two written posts ago I talked about how disgruntled I was with my assigned project, and my assigned organization. How I’d been struggling with finding work to occupy myself during my time here (rather than pulling my hair out), and how I felt that I wasn’t going to leave a positive impact upon anyone in my village (because I had been focusing my energy outside my village where there was work to be had).

Let me tell you, times have finally changed. I’m FINALLY busy in my village (my mom has been telling me that I have a positive outlook on my Peace Corps service again… at last!). I have an organization that actually has members (16 to be exact… woo hoo!), has been having weekly meeting and a weekly workday, and has two projects that it’s working on.

I finally said adios to my assigned organization (really I just told my supervisor that I was done trying to work with him, when I wasn’t getting anywhere with his non existent group, with a project that was never going to happen), and approached my self-picked counterpart about starting a Women’s Group. He told me that he had helped start one a few years back, and that he would gather the women to see if they wanted to re-start the group. (Yes my self-picked counterpart is male, and he is apart of the women’s group too, but I need him there to translate and he has helped me to mobilize this group… so it’s a “women’s plus one man group.”)

About two months ago the first meeting was had, and I asked the women if they would be interested in working with me. I asked if they had a project in mind that they wanted to start but needed funds, motivation and support from others. I also ask if they would be willing to learn things from me. And the new Kute-Buem Women’s Group was formed.

The main thing all the women said they wanted from this group was to help them generate income (in reality everyone wants to generate income, because most rural villagers struggle with paying school fees, keeping up with repairs for the house, keeping the children healthy, and feeding all the mouths during the dry season when the money from the rainy farm season has ended.) I then asked them what skills everyone had, and what they thought they could do to help themselves generate some income (more what support could I give these people, rather than just being the white girl that make it rain cash… I want these women to work for what they want).

Since I live in a little farming Mecca of the Volta Region, most everyone knows how to farm, and that’s what the women said they wanted to do. But the farming season is usually from May to October/November… the rainy season. The women said that they didn’t think we could start farming until the rains come again. I asked them if they would be interested in “Dry Season Farming,” a concept that Peace Corps Volunteers are trying to get spread across Ghana to help promote food security. This got their attention… farming during the dry season… eating fresh vegetables when normally none are available… selling fresh vegetable at Kute-Buem’s market for a higher price because no other produce is available. The women were getting excited (I feel like I could almost see their minds turning on with the idea of making a bit more income.) We had a project… Dry Season Farming (still searching for funding to buy the dry season farming supplies though.) We were given a plot of land; we set up a nursery, and started nursing some vegetable seeds such as okra, tomato, hot peppers, and cabbage. So far it’s a success!

I then asked the women if the new how to sew (got a few yeses), because I had a project in mind that could help them generate income faster than farming. And this way we’re not putting “all out eggs in one basket” so to say. I found a company back home (Osage Gardens) and asked if they would be willing to sell cloth grocery bags made from used flour sacs form Ghana at their farm store, and at all the farmers markets they attend. We had a yes on both sides. Prices were agreed upon, and the first order was placed.

Sundays after church (church is the life of these people) we have our meetings, and Wednesdays are “work days.” And sometimes Fridays and Saturdays are workdays depending on the amount of work that needs to be done. These women are motivated, they are inspirational, and they are determined to be leaders for the next generation.

Cardinal Kekeli

Food Preparation... the typical way!

my little Carhartt Girl!

Accra International Marathon and Half Marathon…

Every half marathon I’ve ever run (that would be 21 to be exact) has been extremely well organized… no matter the number of people, the location, and the weather, the race crew is on top of everything allowing for us runners to be smooth sailing (or rather smooth running) for the duration of the race.

The Accra International Marathon and Half Marathon is great in the terms of cross cultural education, teaching Ghanaians that other nationalities love to put their endurance to the test and run for 13.1 or 26.2 miles in grueling conditions assuming that the race crew will be there for full support. It taught us patients, and was a good reminder that we are in still in Africa (yes we still sometimes need reminders after a year).

Six Ghana PCV’s decided to run the race… 5 running the half (not willing to subject ourselves to pure insanity), and one lucky contestant running the whole marathon (purely insane). Some of us started the training months ago, and others just decided the week before to run. The day before the race we all gathered in Accra to get our ‘race packets’ (just a bib and t-shirt… although I was running to just get the shirt). We were invited over to our Country Director’s house for an amazing carbo-loaded dinner of pasta, homemade sauce, bread with real butter, salad and Rice Krisppy treats for dessert. Purely amazing American-ness to gear us up for race day.

Our alarms went off a bit to early as we were told that the shuttle bus to get to the race start would leave at ten till five, for a 6 am race start. The taxi that we pre arranged to take us to catch the shuttle was right on time (a bit out of the norm), and we arrived to catch the shuttle to find no shuttle waiting. Some lady from the race crew said that she would give us a ride in her car, yet she had no idea where the start to the half marathon actually was (we still had plenty of time, but I was getting rather nervous). Eventually we find the start, and the waiting begins till the race starts.

There are no bathrooms, and no other people waiting for the race… everything is just a bit out of place, but hey this is Ghana. We find out that there was no shuttle, so we are lucky that we caught a ride with the lady, and we start to beg for someone to take us to a gas station with a toilet, otherwise there is going to be a lot of us OD (open defecating) at the race start.

6:00 comes and goes, and there are still hardly any people. 6:30 rolls around and the guys that are racing in wheelchairs arrive along with some random shuttle filled with other racers. And 6:40 the gun goes off while we are all still talking and not expecting the race to start.

1 hour and 53 minutes later I finished the race to be greeted with oranges and freshly cracked open coconuts. The sky was clear and the sun was shinning with such intensity that I was nervous for all the marathon runners that I knew were probably still 2 plus hours out. I was 10^th women over-all to finish (not sure our of how many). And completely stoked to have run a race in Africa (it just sounds so cool to say.)

the runners

As there seems to be a lack of work at my site (rather lack of work with my organization because they cease to exist… and I have been pulling my hair out trying to figure out what to do and find other work at my site) I have been teaming up with other volunteers giving technical training for a hands-on approach of learning different task, skills that we didn’t learn in our pre service training. The first training that I gave in conjunction with one other volunteer was building animal cages, hutches, and coups. And we just gave our second training … a training on planting and learning the benefits of a tropical erosion grass called vetiver.

Vetiver is a tropical, erosion grass (I know it would be amazing to plant in some of the mud slide areas in CO… but it doesn’t like the cold) that came to us from South Africa. It has a root system that goes as deep as 30 feet, and the grass extending a few feet high. The roots not only suck up any stand still water, cleaning up cesspools around bath houses, and behind latrines, but the grass stops the top soil from slipping away in a torrential down pour. Vetiver can be planted on steep slopes to prevent the slope from slipping away, it can be planted along culverts to prevent further erosion, and it can be planted along the base of buildings that don’t have a rain water catch system to save the foundation of the building. The snakes don’t like it, and the goats love it. The actual grass is strong enough that baskets and other crafts can be woven from it, and lets not forget that the grass actually looks pretty.

The training took place in the Northern Region of Ghana, just outside of Tamale in a traditional, farming village called Nwodua… and when I say a traditional village I mean mud huts, with thatch roofs (I think what all of envisioned we would be living in when we signed up for Peace Corps Africa). August 12th, and 13th, 6 volunteers with counterparts, 3 trainers, and 18 new Natural Resource Management trainees, as well as 10 participants from the village gathered to learn and plant this grass throughout the village. We were lucky enough to have 8 resource people to assist us with this training and provide us with vetiver grass.

We lined rice patties with vetiver, we lined a mud hut compound with vetiver, and we planted vetiver at the base of a bathhouse and behind a latrine all the while CBS was filming us and interviewing a few of the participants (yes I got interviewed by CBS… and I pray that they edit me from what they air) for a morning show clipping on 50 years of Peace Corps Ghana (I believe that it will be shown either Sunday the 28th or Tuesday the 30th on the Morning Show of CBS).

On the second day we talked about contouring the grass to prevent culvert erosion, but unfortunately got rained out from planting it where the culvert in this traditional village was taking over.

It was great putting this training together, and seeing the Ghanaians come together and learn about a grass that they didn’t know existed. Teaching PCV’s and counterparts a way to save topsoil, and clean up the mosquito breading areas at the base of bathhouses. It was great to teach the new NRM trainees about different projects that they can do in their village as soon as the get to site.

Crafting Ideas ... One Pencil at a Time

Trash is everywhere. Covering this country from head to toe, and no one really cares. There is hardly and organized trash system, and recycling and composting are thoughts that cannot yet be understood by most Ghanaians.

I often find myself drinking a pure water sachet (water from a bag) when I’m in the city and then looking around for a trash can (they don’t really exist), only to a have a small child take it from me a throw it on the ground. I usually don’t know what else to do with it, so I just turn a blind eye and let it be.

Zoomlion is the so-called ‘organized trash system’ where they come by my village about once a week to empty our dumpster and add it to the mound that sits right behind my house (fantastic). And I just get to wait for the dry season to come and someone to light it all on fire for all the trash to burn (I just love the smell of burning trash coming in through my jail cell window).

But I would rather throw my trash in a big pile of trash than to throw it in the bush or on the roadside. When I’m traveling I tend to throw all my trash inside the car, knowing that when the tro reaches the station it will be swept out, and every morning the station is also swept and then the trash is thrown into yet another huge mound that will eventually be burned come dry season.

So the other day when I was riding in a tro on my way to Accra I was sitting in my usual spot in the tro (front next to the window; best air ventilation, and the most amount of leg room), when the man in between the driver and myself threw a wad of trash out the window. I decided it was time to speak up (if I don’t start somewhere, then no one will ever understand how bad it is to throw the trash in the bush, on the road side, or wherever they please), so I said…

“Brother, don’t you love your country? Don’t you care if Ghana looks beautiful? Why do you throw your trash out the window?”

And he responded…

“Oh Madam please forgive me, but that it what I have always done, I know its bad, but… I guess I should throw it inside the car”

“Yes brother, next time please throw it inside the car. Once the tro reaches the station it will be swept, and then in the morning the station will also be swept, and the trash will be added to a pile. This will help keep your county clean; it will help Ghana look beautiful. Please love your country.”

“Ok Madam I will do that next time,” was the only reassurance I got from the guy.

About an hour later as we continued our way to Accra, we were suddenly pulling over on the side of the road, and a new expensive looking SUV (there are some very well to do Ghanaians, owning more expensive cars then I think I’ll ever be able to afford) pulled right in front of us. A couple got out and walked over to the window, and the women spoke up…

“Driver, I am appalled that you let your whole car throw their trash out the window, as we were driving behind you I saw them throwing so much trash out the window… I am now ashamed to say that I am Ghanaian. Please tell your car to always throw their trash inside the car and not on the roadside, where it will be destroying our country. If they love Ghana then they will do it.”

I was listening, and was in complete shock (Go Lady, Go Lady, Go Lady, you tell them!) But I was so proud of someone… a women… to stand up for something that she believed in, and to tell her people so.

Hopefully the times are changing.

The rains are officially here, not they ever really stopped, but the heavy rains have come, the day long rains have come, and the nightly typhoons have come. The air is finally cool, with an ever present humidity. My clothes are never dry and my skin always has a damp feeling. There is a constant river running through my compound, and the roads are slicker then all get out. But at last the rains are here.

I am now the “second years” … the group with all the experience… the seniors in the crowd… with the group before me having parted ways, and the newest group still in training. It allows for another moment of reflection… realizing one year down, one year to go… (I can really go home in a little under a year now) how the new group, fresh off the plane, has all these ideas, and they are ready to begin their service, where my group is a bit cynical now.

One year in we see that things are hard to change around here. Motivation from the locals is scarce. We are all a bit tired of living at a lesser level, being yelled at, grabbed at, and demanded at for money, other expensive amenities, and to be someone’s wife (HELL NO).

But this is a time for us to be teachers. Lead the way, and take these ‘new-bee’s’ under our wing and help them understand this culture that we are more or less familiar with now. How to navigate their way through a successful service, and to give us motivation again to successfully complete our service.

I made it back to my cement room to be greeted with spiders (and their webs), mold (this is the tropics), goat poop (luckily just on my front step) and rain (as if I didn’t experience enough rain and mud slides while being back home). It was almost comforting to get back to my small room, my small village and welcoming faces after spending a few days fighting with the baggage people in Accra to get one of my bags (the one with all the clothing)… one bag didn’t arrive and after a few days of patiently waiting, and calling United to track my bag I was told by them that it had arrived, but the lost baggage people in Accra said that is didn’t, I said it did, they said it didn’t, I said let me look, they said no, I said let me look and they said ok… and guess what… there it WAS! (I knew it.)

It wasn’t as hard to get on the plane in Grand Junction (knowing what I was getting myself into) as it was getting off the plane in Accra (realizing yet again what I was actually getting myself into… yikes!) But for some reason, I’m still here, knowing that some greater force is keeping me here (I do have the option to say I quit if I don’t want to be here).

But getting back to my village and seeing the houses that are in ruins and knowing that families actually live in them… seeing the smiling children that know nothing else of the world, and to realize that this is truly a unique opportunity that I have put myself in, is probably what’s keeping my feet on solid ground in Ghana.

I was able to reflect a bit while I was home to realize how MUCH we have… how big our houses are (even if you live in a trailer home)… our options of food (my mom asked to pick out some cereal while shopping at the grocery store and I finally told her that she had to choose because there were too many options)… the cars we drive, the roads we drive on, clean drinking water, and the list could go on and on. We truly are a rich nation if you look at it in these terms. Please be grateful for what we have!

The books I’ve read in the past year…

1. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – by: Stieg Larson
2. The Best of Friends – by: Sara James and Ginger Mauney
3. The Book Thief – by: Markus Zusak
4. Way of the Peaceful Warrior – by: Dan Millman
5. The Pilot’s Wife – by: Anita Sherve
6. Day After Night – by: Anita Diamant
7. The Botany of Desire – by: Michael Pollan
8. The Poisenwood Bible – by: Barbara Kingsolver
9. The Life of Pi – by: Yann Martel
10. Amsterdam – by: Ian McEwan
11. Infidel – by: Ayaan Hirsi Ali
12. A Reliable Wife – by: Robert Goolrick
13. The Subtle Knife – by: Phillip Pullman
14. The Amber Spyglass – by: Phillip Pullman
15. The Help – by: Kathryn Stockett
16. The Art of Racing in the Rain – by: Garth Stein
17. The namesake – by: Jhumpa Lahiri
18. In Other Rooms, Other Wonders – by: Daniyal Mueenudin
19. The Purple Hibiscus – by: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
20. The girl who played with Fire – Stieg Larson
21. 20 Chickens for a Saddle – by: Robyn Scott
22. The Glass Castle – by: Jeannette
23. Marley and Me – by: John Grogan
24. Snow falling on Cedars – by: David Gutterson
25. Prodigal Summer – by: Barbara Kingsolver
26. Angle of Repose – by: Wallace Stegner
27. Under the Banner of Heaven – by: Jon Krakauer
28. Unless – by: Carol Shields
29. Sarah’s Keys – by: Tatiana deRosnay
30. The Last Days of Dogtown – by: Anita Diamant
31. Absurdistan – by: Gary Shteyngart
32. Running With Scissors – by: Augusten Burroughs
33. Monique and the Mango Rains – by: Kris Holloway
34. Rebecca’s Tale – by: Sally Beauman
35. The Bean Trees – by: Barbara Kingsolver
36. Beyond Eden – by: Catherine Coulter
37. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn – by: Mark Twain
38. Memorial Day – by: Vince Flynn
39. Cutting for Stone – by: Abraham Verghese
40. A Long Way Gone – by: Ishmael Bach
41. Remember Me – by: Sophie Kinsella
42. The Number 1 Ladies Detective Agency – by: Alexander McCallsmith
43. Interpreter of Maladies – by: Jhumpa Lahiri
44. Bad Things Happen – by: Harry Dollan
45. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest – Sby: tieg larson
46. A Map of the World – by: Jane Hamilton
47. The Reader – by: Bernhard Schlink
48. Kafka on the Shore – by: Haruki Murakami
49. Murder of a Sweet Old Lady – by: Denise Swanson
50. Deception Point – by: dan Brown
51. Middlesex – by: Jeffrey Eugenides
52. The Memory Keeper’s Daughter – by: Kim Edwards
53. Dry – by: Augusten Burroughs
54. The Notebook – by: Nicholas Sparks

One year in Ghana! What I’ve learned, noticed, observed, been shocked by, discovered, and well everything else that might fall into one of these categories.

1. The novelty of me being in Ghana has worn off to those back home… as in the letter, postcards and packages are not frequenting my mailbox like they once use to. Don’t stop sending mail… getting snail mail is one of the best things EVER (well actually getting packages I think is ten times better and thanks so everyone that has sent me one or more than one this far)!
2. I’m can now sit on a bus for hours and hours and still be comfortable for sitting for many more long, long hours to come… will make my 3 flights back to Colorado in a few weeks much more enjoyable, and just think I’ll have leg room!
3. I’m now an expert at baby holding… or carrying on my back.
4. Saw a goat being born, and found snake eggs in my garden… but that was just another day in Africa.
5. Lost all creativity with cooking… all I know how to cook now is rice with a sauce on top.
6. I enjoy bucket bathing and I may take it home with me at the end of my two years (only for the summer months though)… just imagine bathing under a starry sky, or while watching the lightning off in the distance… AMAZING!
7. I’m learning to be patient, even when patience isn’t necessary.
8. I’ve learned a whole new side to the English language… “Driva I will elite here” … “No, please madam I will go come” … “Oh I beg, I beg please you cheat me” … yup that’s how I speak now.
9. I don’t like to hold babies that have just wet themselves… yes most babies here don’t wear diapers and just pee when they have to pee… yes I have been peed on numerous times by babies.
10. Read over 50 books… probably 50 more books than I’ve read the past 5 years… no joke.
11. I’m now used to ducking as I enter into any doorway… Never thought I was that tall, but I guess I am in Ghana.
12. I’m still given more food that I know what to do with… today alone I was given a bushel of plantains (about 16 plantains), 2 avocados, 2 papayas, and 1 HUGE mango… can’t really complain too much about it though.
13. I never thought I would see the day when I enjoyed spicy food, and then crave it… but yep that day has come and I am loving the spice!
14. I have the ability to make babies cry… just by looking at them.
15. I’m almost to the point where I can turn off my thoughts… almost.

I am just about to hit the point in my Peace Corps service where I’m the ‘old group.’ The one-year marker is rapidly approaching, and the ‘senior group’ just had their Close of Service conference to determine when everyone takes off (and for me, one year down, one plus a few months to go!) and the ‘new group’ will be arriving in less than 4 weeks.

We finished out first year of service off with the All Volunteer conference held in Ho, Volta Region (my regional capital). About 130 Peace Corps Volunteers who live all over Ghana came together to catch up, have pool parties almost every night, step back in time and go to Prom, compare all our talents or lack there of, and possibly learn something during the day sessions of the conference…. just maybe though. It was a chance to hear what projects people are working on, see what crafts their villages are making, and an opportunity to congratulate Peace Corps Ghana on 50 years of continues service (yes, Ghana is the first ever Peace Corps Country, and Peace Corps Ghana has served for 50 uninterrupted years)!

As the one-year maker creeps up on me I thought I want to write about what my country director reminded us in our April News Letter (that I got in May). Reality has probably set in (yes it has)… the honeymoon is over (most defiantly), and the question to stay or to go can only be determined by us (just has that conversation with myself)… but he asked us to think about how far we have come in the past year. Think about how much we’ve learned, what once were challenges now seem like a meager bumps in the road. We all came to Ghana so hopeful that we could change the world, but again he reminded us that we now probably understand the reality: we may not be able to prevent teachers from sleeping with students, we may not be able to stop committee members from chopping (team used in Ghana when someone takes the money for their own personal use) money, and we may not be able to convince our villages to throw their trash away. But at the same time we now realize that to help Ghana it may mean to help just one person. Influence that girl that she is smart and can go to college. Or to help the small children learn about other vegetables that they can grow and possibly sell. Help to get the few women in your compound on birth control, because you know if they have their 8^th child they might not stay alive to raise it. He reminded us to start small, and our return will be big.

“After successfully completing this worthwhile experience, nothing will ever seem quite as hard as it used to be. After all, if you can poop in a hole at night while shivering with a 103 temperature when your torch is not working, very few things back home will seem insurmountable.” (I think that says it all.)

After much preparation, and many trips to Accra, the Animal Rearing/Cage Building IST held at my site in the Volta Region was a huge success… or at least I thought it was.

Chris and I persevered through all the obstacles that lay in our way in order to put on a successful, and first ever, volunteer led In Service Training.

Day 1: Snail Cage

Last minute the dates were changed, the budget was never approved until 5 days before the training was suppose to start, the Easter holiday that happens to last for about 5 days in Ghana, caused us to not be able to buy many of our materials, and we booked our hotel too late causing us to have to change the location where everyone was suppose to stay… all lessened learned for the next IST that we give.

Day 2: Rabbit Cage

But in the course of 3 days, 12 Peace Corps Volunteers (including Chris and myself), 10 Counterparts, and 13 participants from my village all took part in building 7 animal cages/hutches in hopes of turning the trend to caging animals vs. living with the animals. We got MOFA, The Ministry of Food and Agriculture in Ghana, on board and they gave a very encouraging presentation on the benefits of caging animals… the trends are starting to change.

Day 3: Looking through the Chicken Coup

The first day, 3 snail cages were built, two above the ground and one in ground to mimic their natural habitat. The second day 2 rabbit hutches and 1 grasscutter cage were built. And on the last day we built an amazing chicken coup (I might be predigest because it was built so I could raise chickens with my Ghanaian Family, but I must say it’s a bomb chicken coup!) and finished what wasn’t finished on the first day.

It was great to see everyone in the training get involved, from the village participants to all the PCV’s everyone worked well and efficient together. This was the first time for many PCV’s that we were able to get our hands dirty during a training. We were all tired of observing during our technical training instead of partaking in the technical aspect of our training.

Kente cloth is the traditional woven cloth of Ghana. There are debates on who makes the best Kente cloth… the Ashanti’s or the Ewe’s… and within each of those regions who makes the best. I can’t say I know the difference between the Ashanti Kente vs. the Ewe Kente, and I can’t even tell the difference in each of the regions.

the thread

the loom

my village's loan kente weaver

the final product

Getting caught in Accra right before Easter weekend is not a good idea… or rather trying to get a car out of Accra right before Easter weekend is not a good idea.

Normally if I get to the station by 12pm I can safely get a car to Hohoe and still catch a car to Kute. So when 11:30 rolled around and I was preparing to leave the Peace Corps Office I didn’t think twice about the religious holiday that was approaching. And when I couldn’t catch public transportation to the station I should have had some clue that the station was going to be crazy. But Easter weekend was never a big deal in my family… meaning we don’t ever travel… so the thought of Ghanaians wanting to spend this super religious holiday with their loved ones wasn’t crossing my mind.

After waiting about 45 minutes to catch a taxi… (Every taxi that pulled up refused to take us to the Volta station… should have been a clue)… and having to run from the taxi in the middle of traffic and walk the rest of the way to the station still didn’t seem like a big deal (Ghana is about the size of Oregon with almost 30 million people, so traffic in the capital is normal). I finally reached my station to see NO cars and a mob of people (well over 100 people) with luggage up the wazu just waiting. (There are a few different Volta Stations, all within one block of each other… and I normally go to the station that is off the radar, where I don’t get hassled, its easy to get to, and I can find an air conditioned car) My normal station, The Gardens, was just crawling with people. I started asking where people were going and they all said Hohoe… shit... then I asked how long people had been waiting and some said for over two hours… shit… (Normally I’m waiting for more people to fill the car, rather than waiting for a car). I found the master of the station and starting asking about getting to Hohoe and all he said was that there were no cars… then I asked about getting to Ho (Volta’s regional capital) and again he said that there were no cars, same with every major city that I pass through on my way to Hohoe. Then he pulled me aside and said go to the Tudu Station, a car will come but you must wait.

The Tudu Station is my least favorite station. People are always grabbing at you, it smells like urine, cars are everywhere, people are yelling, vender’s stands are over loaded with items they are trying to sell. It is a cramped place that is hard to meander through. This station always reminds me that I’m in Africa though (yes sometimes I still forget that I’m in Africa… especially after being in Accra). I found my way to the Hohoe section of the station only to find again NO CARS, and another mob of people. Panic was starting to set in. I needed to get back to my village… wanted to get back to my village. I searched out for the master of the station and told him that I HAD TO, NEEDED TO get to Hohoe. First he said that there were no cars to anywhere in the Volta, but I think he sensed my urgency and told me to wait small. Then he said to follow him.

We started to follow this blue van… it stopped and people stated crawling on top, going through the windows, hair was being pulled, elbows were being jabbed, people were shoving others aside, and yelling at the top of their lungs just to try and get a seat in the car. I have no sense on how to fight for a seat in a car. I’m used to lines, first come first serve, some sort of orderly manner… not in Ghana though. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.

I still don’t know how I got a seat in this car, but after some more yelling, physically pulling people out of the car, I got a seat because the master of the station demanded that I get on this car (praise the lord as they would say in Ghana). The price was jacked up to almost double the normal price, and it was packed to the max… I was holding other people’s luggage on my lap, chickens were under the seats, parents were sitting with 2 kids on their lap… but I was in, I had a ride, I could still possible make it home.

I did eventually make it home… getting to my house around 8pm that night… after a ride from hell. The driver was driving like a mad man, chasing down cars (literally and then making them stop to yell at the driver of the other vehicle), and going through a horrendous rainstorm. Upon arrival in Hohoe, I made it to my station just in time to catch the last car, and get the last seat (praise the lord) to get home… long day.

Another volunteer and I have been planning an animal husbandry training for other PCV’s and their counterparts to happen at the end of April in my small and remote village. 10 Peace Corps Volunteers and their counterparts have been invited, as well as 10 participants from my community (or surrounding villages) and 2 carpenters. This training is to teach said people how to build rabbit, grasscutter, snail and chicken cages/coups and in hopes that they will then take this training and build their own cage as an alternative means of making money (capitalizing on the ‘Alternative Livelihood’ part of my Peace Corps title.)

For the most part things have been going smoothly… we found lodging for everyone (as this event extends over the course of 4 days) we hired a lady to do the cooking for all our meals (even if her price is through the roof) and we are in the process of finding organizations or groups that will reap from this training by receiving the cages to rear some animals.

But that doesn’t mean that planning for this event hasn’t come with its own set of problems… and the problems come more in the form of communication. We have offered to feed the 12 invited guest lunch during this training… but my ‘counterpart’ doesn’t understand why we can’t feed them breakfast and dinner as well (because they are from my village and can go home to get those two meals). Then he said that Peace Corps should pay the carpenters to take part in the training (not sure I understand that one… we are offering a ‘free training’ in hopes that they in the end will benefit.) He was also wondering why each individual is not getting his or her own cage (because we can’t build 40 plus cages in the course of 4 days… and that price kind of exceeds the budget). But then why aren’t we giving them money to go home and build their own cage (because if you hand a Ghanaian money they will pocket it and go buy the newest, flashiest item in the market… and how the hell does just handing out money promote sustainable development? It doesn’t… education does. )

I’ve been struggling to get the idea into my counterpart’s head that this training is for the people, for the village, to learn how to build said cages… so they can take this training back to their compound, village, or organization and try to build their own cage or cages, and make some money on the side from their ‘real job’ (if they really have a job). Most Ghanaians it seems though (or at least this goes for my village) want the world handed to them (that’s not to say that this isn’t the case for some Americans), but they bitch and moan that they have no money and when the opportunity comes (yes most of the days are spent laying around, and when you ask for something, like buying food on the street, they roll their eyes and give you the look “of really do I need to get up from my bench and help you… I would rather stay sitting”) up to make some money they bitch and moan that there is work involved… heaven forbid.

Palm nut oil, the staple in all Ghanaian food, has a long and intensive production process. So when my family (my Ghanaian family) says they are spending the day making palm nut oil, I now that they will be at it from dusk till dawn… or rather from the previous day till the following evening (because they have to go to their farm to get the palm nuts).

The famous palm nut grown on palm nut trees (also the same trees to make palm wine) gives off the fruit to make the famous palm nut oil. Most farms will have a few palm nut trees scattered around their farm for the harvesting of the palm nut to make oil, and palm nut soup (literally oil soup…yuck).

Step One: Pluck the palm nut from the husk.

Step Two: Boil the palm nut in water for close to 20 hours

Step Three: Strain the palm nut from the water and pound the nut till it is completely broken open.

Step Four: In a large bowl, work the mashed up palm nuts with a long stick and gradually add water to separate the oil form the kernel.

Step Five: Pull out all the stingy pulp.

Step Six: Separate the kernel from the oil (yes inside the palm nut is the palm kernel, which is also used to make palm kernel oil).

Step Seven: Start boiling the oil to evaporate all the water.

Step Eight: Strain the oil again to get rid of any last bit of pulp.

Step Nine: Boil the oil down still you are left with bright red palm nut oil.

After the palm oil is made, the pulp from the palm nut is dried out and used a fire starter, and the kernel is also dried out and later turned into palm kernel oil.