Monday, August 26, 2013

Tetteh Quarshie Cocoa Farm & Center for Research into Plant Medicine

Friday, a bunch of us went to the Tetteh Quarshie Cocoa Farm, the first cocoa farm in Ghana.  Before Tetteh Quarshie there wasn’t any cocoa in Ghana.  He spent time in the Seychelles (I think) and recognized the money to be made off of cocoa.  Because smuggling/importing was illegal, he swallowed the cocoa bean to get it across the border and expelled it after arriving.  He began the first farm in Ghana and cocoa become a major cash crop and export for the country.  Now, the farm is about 3 hectares and only produces about 5 bags of beans each year.  The farm still has two of the original trees from the first year Tetteh planted!   Quite cool.  I expected the trees would be much larger, but my roommate explained that cocoa trees take a long time to grow and are easily infected. Across from the farm (so turn 180 degrees in the first picture) was a school, church, and some homes.  When we were taking pictures, a bunch of kids started coming out and took pictures with us! :)





Afterwards, we drove to the Center for Research into Plant Medicine and toured the facility.  They only produce natural medicines/remedies.  People can grow their own and bring it in for quality testing and then sell it under the Center’s name.  The products are very cheap.  About 2 cedis for a bottle. Quite good.  They have ~1,000 specimens in the herbarium/library, most, if not all, of which can be gathered in the jungle behind the facility.  Normally, groups can go in and see a little bit, but it had just rained and it wasn’t safe enough “unless you want to see snakes.  Then I can show you anacondas,” he said.  Most of the group was decided they were good.  I wanted to go in.  I mean, how often can you see snakes outside of a cage and not be completely terrified? 

It was really overcast and gorgeous on the drive up.  As we drove up the hill, there were some beautiful and incredibly nice homes.  Interesting to see how close together the poorer homes and crazy huge ones are.  Of course the pictures don't do the views justice. At all. 






Content

A bunch of the ISEP and Missouri kids were hanging out last night talking about what we've experienced so far, and we realized: we’ve come to a point where we're content with being in Ghana. This is where I want to be this semester.  Homesickness isn’t much of a thing anymore.  We all met Candice's family last night, spent a few minutes missing our own siblings (many of us are the oldest), and then carried on.  I’m church hopping with friends on Sundays. I’m trying foods, trying to speak a bit of Twi, excited to begin classes, ready for swim season to get under way, anxious to start working with the kids at Beacon House or Mawuvio’s.  If I leave now, I will feel that I have failed, even if the cause is completely out of my control.  There’s no way that I’ve accomplished half of the things that I want to.  

During the first 3 weeks, I often complained that I wouldn’t be home for Hendrix's first Amerian football season in decades (the result of having done marching band throughout jr/high school) and that I’d miss the 100th Shirttails (Go veasey).  But now, I’ve begun to recognize what I should’ve at the beginning: that while I will miss easy walking access to everything, friends (great to skype with you guys last night, by the way!), and knowing exactly when and what my classes are at the beginning of the semester, this method of registration has its own advantages and this semester is going to be something I can’t even imagine.  It's something that I want to try my hardest to make happen.  Because registration takes so long, I’ve had time to mull over and drop/add classes without the stress of starting class.  In 3 weeks, I’ve gone from thinking spicy foods are ridiculous to thinking, “Alright, yeah. This is doable.” Walking the three minutes to the pool by myself is now a routine and soothing part of my day.  

Kids & Water. Friends & Food.

Monday, we went out to visit Beacon House. Not even 10 minutes away, it’s super easy to get to via taxi and a little walking.  The kids were napping when we visited, but a few were awake.  When we walked by, one of them was smiling real big, finger in mouth, kind of rocking back and forth. Probably 4 years old.  One of the girls finally coaxed him across the room and whispered to him a little bit. He never stopped smiling.  A second boy of about the same age unblinkingly stared at Sarah as she put her blonde hair up in a pony tail. I leaned over and said, “He’s watching you.” “He’s probably not seen it before,” she responded with a half smile.  The third little boy, maybe 3 years, we’d seen earlier and he just waved good bye.  Kids are the best.  They’re the same everywhere.  I went to the night market to get food the other evening.  As I was leaving, a 3-4 year old girl walked in front of me.  She walked over to the stalls with her little teddy bear strapped to her back just like a mama with a baby.  Seeing her reminded me of my sister and me when we were little with our baby dolls, slings, and strollers.  They’re just the same.

Water was off for about 36 hours last week; electricity out for another day.  For two days, we lived as the students in all the dorms on campus do: bucket showers, flushing the toilet with a small bucket of water, carrying water upstairs from the courtyard cistern for cooking and cleaning.  I assumed that because this was a university and ISH had running water, everyone did.  But they don’t. Now, I’ve learned to take advantage of and appreciate showers and to keep a bucket of water handy in the room, especially with living on the top/fourth floor. 

Though I came to Ghana with the intention of learning about and experiencing Ghanaian culture, and I am, the evenings sometimes seem like a double immersion.  Recently, the evenings have been spent learning just as much about black culture in America from some of the ISEP girls and our pseudo-sister program, 
Missouri-Africa.  The discussions are far from dull, and opinions loud and proud. 

Cooking has become a daily activity.  Last night, I talked to a girl about how to keep rice from sticking to the pot and about her bread.  I saw her place it in the pot and asked her about it.  “I’m toasting the bread. You just heat the pot and put the slices in since there isn’t a toaster,” she said.  I pointed to a white tube on the counter.  “What is that? Butter?” “Oh, this is chocolate spread,” she said squeezing some of the brown goo out.  I have to find some of that.  Maybe it’s cheaper than nutella. 

Some of the cooking projects that have come up are: cookie/dough (something like Pillsbury in our minds) over the hot plates and dipping it in butter, sugar, and cinnamon; frying thin potato slices to make chips.

I just had my first real conversation with my roommate. And you know what? She’s pretty cool!  "I don't talk very much.  If you say something, I'll respond, but otherwise I don't say much," Esi said.  Turns out we aren’t that different after all. :)

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Catching Up...Thoughts :)

The night I arrived at school, ISEP gave us boxed dinners.  After unpacking my things, I sat down to eat.  That first night was an introduction to many of the next week’s dinners: rice, a few vegetables, chicken, and fish.  It was pretty good, and I hungry, so I didn’t complain.  Initially, I only registered that there was meat.  While eating the piece of chicken and rice, I kept tasting/smelling this smoky flavor, but couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.  I finally turned to the other piece of “chicken.” And then my brain went, “More chicken. Just kidding! Fish head!” Complete with teeth and eyes.  Welcome to Ghana.  It was pretty good and I have gotten tilapia, the fish of choice raised here, on several occasions since.  But this difference threw me.  Fish is always served whole, usually with the guts cleaned out.  It’s kind of like a game. How quickly can you pull the meat out with as few bones as possible?  You either get jollof [spicy] rice or fried rice.  Vegetables don’t seem to be as important to, or at least not as much of a staple in, the diet.  Rice is the main staple and is at every meal like bread in the U.S.

I’ve been told that there’s an American grocery store with American brands, products, and such.  I might have to at least stop in later in the semester.  All Needs on campus, Maxi Mart, and other grocery stores have some things that are similar like candy and soda, among other things, but they taste different.  I’m pretty sure they flavor foods with sugar cane rather than the high fructose corn syrup we use.  Dining dollars aren't a thing.  Rather you pay for your food whether from one of the restaurants on campus, central caf, the night market close to the ISH, street vendors, or some place in town.  Students usually cook their own food.  Sound bad? Eating locally/as a Ghanaian does, rather than buying American snacks [darn], is ridiculously cheap.  The conversion rate is about US$1=GH¢2.  (¢, cedi, pronounced the same as a music c.d.)  I can easily eat a meal for under GH¢4.  cuh-razy.

So much learning…the thing is you begin to realize that every part of your day has to be done differently, or at least initially thought through and processed.  You must take your own toilet paper to the bathroom and throw it away in the trash can because the plumbing has potential to get backed up.  The water isn’t potable, so you must always have bottled water with you.  Now that it’s been a few weeks, and we’ve started adjusting to the food/environment, we can drink sachets, plastic bags that hold about 500ml. of water.  You can either do laundry by hand or pay someone to do it.  To do it by hand requires a bucket, laundry soap, a bar of soap for trouble spots, and time.  Having someone else do it is about ¢2-¢5.  Eating means making sure you have ingredients, or are thinking on the way home from so you can stop and buy in advance, and starting to cook before you’re starving because preparation and waiting for the hot plate to heat up takes time (you’ve no idea how well I’ve experienced this this past week).  A simple “hello” can turn into a minute long greeting that frequently ends in asking for your contact information and running away as quickly as possible.  Getting to class on time means leaving the ISH 30 minutes in advance because it takes 20 minutes to get to main campus.  And those of you who know me know that I’m habitually late. Wooo.  Maybe I’m just meant to be on Africa time? :P  

One of the reasons I chose to study abroad through ISEP in Ghana was for their Global Exchange Program (GEP).  The program helps set up volunteer opportunities between participants and local non-profits.  Monday, we’re going out to visit Beacon House, a children’s home.  We’re also going out to Mawuvio’s (sp?) Outreach Program, in addition to about 4 others, next week.  School is supposed to be free and compulsory for grades 1-6(?), but there are also small fees in the better schools and uniform fees for all.  Frequently, parents keep children at home because they’re needed to work and help bring in money.  MOP is one of many programs that provides schooling to kids who can’t afford the basic school and uniform fees and provides a meal each day.  Kelly, a girl from my school who came to UG 3 semesters ago, worked at MOP and got me excited about the opportunity to work with others!  She has been great in answering my questions and mentioning some of the things many others didn’t know about until they got here (the strike for instance).  

Friday, August 16, 2013

Since Monday I have:

--begun swimming with the university team [and there’s potential for travelling to Nigeria for competition. YUS.]
--done my own laundry! And I have the knuckle scrapes(?) to prove it.
--more or less signed up for classes as best I can.
--only had one of my seven classes so far because teachers are on strike.
--tried new, but not too crazy foods, like:
     --garden eggs [eggplant, but small and white/yellow. So far they’re really bitter; not yet a fan.]
     --gogbe [gari (looks and tastes a bit like cornmeal) and beans (black eyed peas)]
     --yumi [smooth, bottled, yoghurty drink kind of like a thin milkshake. So good.]
     --egg sandwiches from Auntie Marie (so good. Basically an omelet folded up and stuck in a sweet roll. You can get sausage and cheese, too!)
--NOT gotten my roommate yet. I’m so excited to meet her! Cannot even wait.
--cooked at least half of my food. This is big.
--not become a master chef. But I’ll be half way by December. Just wait and see.
--definitely made new friends.
--indulged in silent laptop time with Kendra and Sarah.
--gotten excited about shopping for fabric and then not done it. poop. But it’s definitely on the list of things to do!
--said goodbye to one of our ISEP girls! So glad you’re getting better, but we miss you, Reddddddd! <3
-- Officially been in Ghana for two weeks!! 

Debts & Diarrhea

[I'm developing a bad habit of writing posts in Word and then not posting them. Have fun keeping track. :P ]

This weekend my program took its traditional trip out to Kakum National Park to traipse the canopy walk and to Cape Coast Castle to learn about its history, that of slavery, and the connections between the two.  During the bus ride, we passed through neighborhoods of varying niceness and completion.  It seemed half of the buildings we passed, regardless of whether in or outside of a city, were unfinished.  We’ve learned that this is because Ghanaians don’t believe in loans.  Rather, they save up a bit of money, begin a project, and then add on to it as their resources are available.  Instead of seeing this as inefficiency, an incomplete home is a visual goal and motivator to the people investing in it.  This is further expressed in the abundant use of cash to pay for goods, items, and services.  If you require more than a cedi or two in change, or really any change at all, you are almost guaranteed to be asked if you’re sure whether you don’t have smaller bills.  A friend of mine recently bought a plane ticket to fly home and had to purchase it over the phone in order to use a credit card because buying it in person could only be done with cash.  It’s an interesting system and mindset to say the least. 

I had my first true encounter with diarrhea Saturday night/Sunday morning.  Lovely, just LOVELY, you say.  Well, my friend, I’m not sure I’ve ever been more afraid to go to sleep.  It’s of course prevented me from swimming which is greaaaaat.  But the first meeting with the school’s coach and team is tomorrow and I can’t wait to get in the water! Everyone should take another look at the picture of the pool posted earlier because it is just that great.  No, really. Do it. Now. 

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Pretentious

How I felt tonight. It hit me a bit...How could I expect to come to Ghana, to Africa, and immediately enjoy the culture, all the people, all the differences? How could I expect to enjoy being the minority.  I remembered back to my ISEP application and how we had to explain how this experience would benefit us in the future.  I wrote that I'm interested in Teach for America/Teach for Arkansas (an option I am still knocking around), a program that places college graduates in underprivileged schools for two year terms, and that learning what being a minority felt like would be beneficial. Which it will. But I don't like it. Not right now.

I grew up hearing my parents' stories from their time in the Peace Corps.  Not all of them were good; they had bad experiences too. But you can never realize or even fully imagine what emotions were dealt with in order to get to those good stories, those memories that, looking back, are reason enough to go return to their villages.

I'll be perfectly honest.  I'm terrified. Afraid of going into the market without our student guides, just with other obrunis (white people), of bargaining, being blunt and firm about what I want, not drinking enough water, walking by myself, the prospect of not being able to stay in the library late because it's about a 10 minute walk back to campus and lighting isn't great.  Ideally, most, if not all, of these are the result of first week jitters.

In other news:
I have my Ghanaian name! Abena. :) There is a male and female name associated with each day of the week.  Whichever day you were born on tells you your name.  March 23, 1993 was a Tuesday. Thus, I am Abena. Below are the names. Who are you??

                         Male               Female
Sunday            Kwesi              Akosua
Monday           Kwadwo          Adwoa
Tuesday           Kwabena         Abena    
Wednesday     Kwaku             Akua
Thursday         Yaw                 Yaa
Friday              Kofi                 Afua
Saturday          Kwame            Amma


Our ISEP group also survived our first tro tro ride today. Tro tros are about the size of mini/church vans with four or five rows of seats with four sitting on each.  They are the cheapest and best ways to get around Accra.  They drive different routes, like buses, so you have to watch for the hand signal and listen for the mate who is calling out the up coming stops. Organized chaos at it's finest!

So Far in Ghana...

--gone to the mall (day 1; more intimidating than expected)
--seen one of the main markets (forget the name) from the bus.  The crowds are unreal, y’all.
--almost gotten car sick from the constant speeding up, screeching to halts, and fast turns.  What’s a speed limit?
--almost been in an accident.  We have the most magnificent bus driver ever.  That’s all I can say.
--walked around once by myself to go to the pool. 
--walked countless miles on multiple campus tours and still have practically no clue as to where things are.
--listened to numerous speakers on safety, medical/health issues, academic policies, and “relationships and related matters.”  The last was given by the Dean of International Programs and was, by far, the bluntest and best summary of Ghanaian cultural expectations in relationships that I’ve heard so far.
--been hung on to by children in the street.
--eaten delicious food!
--met some of the kindest people.  The student guides are honestly the best ever.
--played in the ocean, eaten fresh mango, and grilled pineapple all in one day! Why grilled pineapple isn’t always a thing is a mystery to me.  It should always be a thing.  Mangos, too.  And the ocean.
--eaten at Tacobel, an eatery on campus which has nothing at all to do with the American chain.
--bought/drunk more bottled water in the past five days than I have in a long time/ever.  Although I think the U.S. should take on the 1.5L bottle idea.  I’m a fan.
--called home a few times, skyped with friends (I’m shocked the wi-fi can even support it), and e-mailed the much worried Nana.
--loved the gorgeous, cool, breezy weather that August brings to Ghana.
--not adjusted to being stared at all the time.  It’s quite odd, a different kind of sensation.  

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Getting There...

Currently, I'm sitting in the Heathrow Airport during a 4 hour layover, waiting for the third and final flight into Accra, Ghana. After a 6ish hour layover in Atlanta, and running out to grab a bite to eat with a friend, I caught a plane with fellow student, Amber.  She's great! We had fun getting to know each other at the gate, but of course had different seats.  Originally, I was to have an aisle seat, but switched with a girl at the last minute so she could sit with her sister.  Lucky I did! I had quite the ride sitting next   to a Zimbabwean coming back from a wedding.  This brings up an interesting point.  Traveling in the airport, specifically the international terminal, alone has brought together quite a mix of people, cultures, and languages.  Perhaps a baby wake up call to what the next 4 months may have in store for us.

more later...