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.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
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.
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!
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!
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