One of the great joys of being in Ghana is having the time and lack of distractions to read a vast array of different books. I am always trying to get my hands on new reading material and a good book which you have not yet read is hard to come by in this neck of the woods, there is really only one book store in the city and it is great but a novel will set you back a couple of days wages so buying a new book is a real treat. I find that in Ghana I am much less picky about what I read and find I will be happy to read most things and always aim to have something lined up to read next, the thought of not having a book on the go is quite shocking …there is only so much BBC World Service and Ghanaian newspapers a girl can stand!
The past year I have read chick lit, classics, economic studies, poetry, short stories, plays, commentaries and some fantastic African novels. I have always enjoyed reading and passionately believe in the power of story to transport us from our own reality into our imagination to actively live somewhere else for as long as we so desire to keep turning the pages. I think where I find delight in reading most is in exploring and getting to know new characters and through these people come to understand a different perspective on the world and on life’s challenges. Much of what I have read in Ghana has been African texts, partly because these books are so much cheaper than western books but also because they offer a unique perspective while I am living on this continent. Through a wealth of African writers I have come to get to grips with this continent in a new and fresh way, to learn about selling siblings into slavery, to begin to understand the struggles of Africans readjusting to life here once they have been educated overseas and likewise the challenges faced by friends and family members who have stayed in the country, I have seen the effects of colonization through the eyes of tribal leaders, the impact of the introduction of Christianity on local culture and traditions through the eyes of both western Priest and local religious leaders, the challenges of corruption through well meaning expatriates who loose themselves in the wilds of Africa….I could continue but I have come to understand how the power of a well created character, carefully crafted plot and beautiful words can comment on the complex issues which engulf and shroud this continent, but also at the same time showcase its beauty and its heart.
Every VSO I know is keen to get their hands on a new book and reading material passes from town to town and house to house, we always joke that the books in a VSO house give you a good indication as to who lived there before you. In our pad we have a real eclectic mix, I arrived to find War and Peace, and assortment of Ghost Stories, Jackie Collins and a well thumbed self help book entitled ‘Chronically Single Woman’ which has come to be known as ‘Chronically’ by my housemate Katherine and I. This rather un insightful piece of writing is always firmly shoved to the back of the bookshelf whenever houseguests come over but somehow it always manages to peek through and most people who set their eyes on this charming little pearl always seem to ask rather sheepishly is they can borrow it, male or female, single or not!!
On a rather more reflective note I wanted to share with you some literature which has really spoken to me since I have been in Ghana, whenever I am feeling a little low about the contribution I am making I always look to this poem which encourages me and spurs me on. The poem is actually written about Mozambique not Ghana and was written by a female poet who is based in Canterbury…..enjoy!
20 March 2000
A woman gives birth in a tree
and I stand naked, wondering who I am.
I’ve tiled my bathroom mermaid green
eager to create an image, present a scene
of tasteful tranquillity. Two days of labour and
a woman gives birth in a tree
hauls mouth to nipple in instinct-driven certainty.
My mirrored face dissolves, distorts as if in pain
as steam obscures these walls of mermaid green.
Her body splits apart, water laps her feet.
My power shower stings and pricks my exposed skin.
Sophia Pedro gave birth in a tree
a feelgood picture beamed across our TV screens
ignoring thousands who lost everything.
Was it right – to tile my bathroom mermaid green?
Helicopter blades crack overhead. I reach
for cocoa butter, aloe vera cream.
I’ve tiled my bathroom mermaid green.
In Mozambique a woman gave birth in a tree.
Vicky Wilson
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Thursday, 7 October 2010
A year in Ghana
As I come to write this blog I can hardly believe that in a few days I will have been living in Ghana a whole year! As I reflect on the past 12 months I feel it is appropriate to write with not only a reflective tone but also with celebration! I have had the most wonderful year full of new people and new experiences and been challenged in so many ways professionally, personally, relationally, spiritually, emotionally, physically the list goes on! I am amazed to see that so many of the things which were new and perhaps rather strange at the beginning now seem so normal, like buying grocery’s of ladies head, washing all my clothes by hand, travelling in transport that looks like it is about to die a rather nasty death and speaking in pidgin English on a regular basis.
VSO’s slogan ‘Sharing Skills, Changing Lives’ is one I passionately believe in, but after a year in Ghana I can honestly say that I feel as if I am receiving far more than I am giving on so many levels and the skills that I am sharing are more often than not out of the office, such as informally teaching a Ghanaian child to swim (the deaths from drowning are unbelievable) talking to disabled women about their self worth or simply encouraging a colleague or fellow VSO when they are feeling low or unmotivated. Hardly a day goes by when I do not feel that I have learnt something, questioned something or been challenged in some way. I think one of the reasons I love living in Ghana is these challenges and the constant opportunities to learn more about the world and ourselves. Another reason why I have had such a great year I believe is the constant change, people are always coming and going, new friends are made and then move on, new people come. It is impossible to keep a schedule here in Ghana, if you try you will drive yourself insane, scheduled meetings are seldom kept to, transport ALWAYS breaks down , people are more often than not late, you simply can’t plan a day in advance and this has really freed me from the concept of living by the diary something we in the west so often do and if we are not careful can find ourselves simply ‘ticking things off’ the list of things to do, rather than living life in the full and thinking about the beauty and challenges life and this world has to offer.
Although Ghana has its many challenges I can honestly say that I love life here, the Ghanaians are fantastic people, and they love life, whatever circumstances they find themselves in it is hard to find a Ghanaian with a negative opinion. The Ghanaians look on the brightside, I have lost count of the number of times local people (most notably taxi drivers) have said to me ‘Ghana is a cool place, here you are free, you are really free’ for me there is such truth in this, in Ghana we are free (both internally and externally) to me this seems quite ironic given the fact that Ghana is situated in West Africa, not the beacon of freedom and liberation we might hope it would be and many of Ghana’s neighboring countries still struggle with challenging political situations and civil unrest, but in Ghana ‘we are free’.
Despite singing Ghana’s praises there have been many times I have become hugely disillusioned with the system, questioned what I am doing, and questioned the very nature of ‘development work’ and how we as humans from outside of the system and country can make a difference. But what do we do, throw in the towel and say ‘I no longer want to be part of this’? Or continue, learning day by day, trying to make some sort of difference, somehow to someone’s life.
It has been a privilege to live and work in Ghana with an international community and I am learning and enjoying, which perhaps leads me to the question I am being asked a lot of the moment ‘How long are you staying?’ Firstly I am a firm believer that if you want to see change in something then you have to make a commitment, the west so often promises us ‘quick fixes’ to our problems and if I am honest I LOVE a ‘quick fix, I love to get things moving and not hang around. But if we are honest with ourselves it is a commitment that brings results, how much have we grown professionally when we have committed to our role and our team, how much do we grow personally when we commit to friendships through thick and thin, how much to people grow relationally and in love when they commit to marriage for better and for worse, how much do we see positive changes In our communities when we commit to working in and serving them, how much weight do we lose when we commit to a plan of healthy eating and exercise. So I think in this situation I should stick to my own advice and commit to Ghana, at least for a while yet. I want to see more change in my organization, I want to see more change in my global outlook, so perhaps it is time to batton down the hatches and stay put for a while, at least until I feel strongly that I need to move on. When people say ‘How long are you staying’ I tend to think, ‘why would I leave right now’, my time in Ghana is something to be relished, it is not merely a life experience to be ticked off some sort of mental list, I am enjoying, learning and growing so ‘why would I leave’.
Sure there are things that I miss about my life in the UK, most notably friends and family, I also miss Victoria sponge cake, taking afternoon tea, going to the theatre, freedom with my finances, sometimes driving my car, Saturdays Guardian, aerobics classes, team spirit at work, standing by the radiator on a rainy day with a cup of tea looking out of the window having a long think. But there are things which I enjoy here which I would never get in the UK like reading and relishing a novel a week, having clothes specially tailored for me, feeling like I am using only as much electricity and water as I really need to and finding satisfaction in that, dancing under the stars to live music whenever I so desire, going to the beach at weekends.
So I guess in conclusion it has been a great year, I’m learning a lot, I’m living a lot, I am happy, I don’t know how long I am staying but that is ok, I’ll wait until I feel it is time to move on, no need to plan, after all in Ghana planning is almost impossible ‘life is free’!!
VSO’s slogan ‘Sharing Skills, Changing Lives’ is one I passionately believe in, but after a year in Ghana I can honestly say that I feel as if I am receiving far more than I am giving on so many levels and the skills that I am sharing are more often than not out of the office, such as informally teaching a Ghanaian child to swim (the deaths from drowning are unbelievable) talking to disabled women about their self worth or simply encouraging a colleague or fellow VSO when they are feeling low or unmotivated. Hardly a day goes by when I do not feel that I have learnt something, questioned something or been challenged in some way. I think one of the reasons I love living in Ghana is these challenges and the constant opportunities to learn more about the world and ourselves. Another reason why I have had such a great year I believe is the constant change, people are always coming and going, new friends are made and then move on, new people come. It is impossible to keep a schedule here in Ghana, if you try you will drive yourself insane, scheduled meetings are seldom kept to, transport ALWAYS breaks down , people are more often than not late, you simply can’t plan a day in advance and this has really freed me from the concept of living by the diary something we in the west so often do and if we are not careful can find ourselves simply ‘ticking things off’ the list of things to do, rather than living life in the full and thinking about the beauty and challenges life and this world has to offer.
Although Ghana has its many challenges I can honestly say that I love life here, the Ghanaians are fantastic people, and they love life, whatever circumstances they find themselves in it is hard to find a Ghanaian with a negative opinion. The Ghanaians look on the brightside, I have lost count of the number of times local people (most notably taxi drivers) have said to me ‘Ghana is a cool place, here you are free, you are really free’ for me there is such truth in this, in Ghana we are free (both internally and externally) to me this seems quite ironic given the fact that Ghana is situated in West Africa, not the beacon of freedom and liberation we might hope it would be and many of Ghana’s neighboring countries still struggle with challenging political situations and civil unrest, but in Ghana ‘we are free’.
Despite singing Ghana’s praises there have been many times I have become hugely disillusioned with the system, questioned what I am doing, and questioned the very nature of ‘development work’ and how we as humans from outside of the system and country can make a difference. But what do we do, throw in the towel and say ‘I no longer want to be part of this’? Or continue, learning day by day, trying to make some sort of difference, somehow to someone’s life.
It has been a privilege to live and work in Ghana with an international community and I am learning and enjoying, which perhaps leads me to the question I am being asked a lot of the moment ‘How long are you staying?’ Firstly I am a firm believer that if you want to see change in something then you have to make a commitment, the west so often promises us ‘quick fixes’ to our problems and if I am honest I LOVE a ‘quick fix, I love to get things moving and not hang around. But if we are honest with ourselves it is a commitment that brings results, how much have we grown professionally when we have committed to our role and our team, how much do we grow personally when we commit to friendships through thick and thin, how much to people grow relationally and in love when they commit to marriage for better and for worse, how much do we see positive changes In our communities when we commit to working in and serving them, how much weight do we lose when we commit to a plan of healthy eating and exercise. So I think in this situation I should stick to my own advice and commit to Ghana, at least for a while yet. I want to see more change in my organization, I want to see more change in my global outlook, so perhaps it is time to batton down the hatches and stay put for a while, at least until I feel strongly that I need to move on. When people say ‘How long are you staying’ I tend to think, ‘why would I leave right now’, my time in Ghana is something to be relished, it is not merely a life experience to be ticked off some sort of mental list, I am enjoying, learning and growing so ‘why would I leave’.
Sure there are things that I miss about my life in the UK, most notably friends and family, I also miss Victoria sponge cake, taking afternoon tea, going to the theatre, freedom with my finances, sometimes driving my car, Saturdays Guardian, aerobics classes, team spirit at work, standing by the radiator on a rainy day with a cup of tea looking out of the window having a long think. But there are things which I enjoy here which I would never get in the UK like reading and relishing a novel a week, having clothes specially tailored for me, feeling like I am using only as much electricity and water as I really need to and finding satisfaction in that, dancing under the stars to live music whenever I so desire, going to the beach at weekends.
So I guess in conclusion it has been a great year, I’m learning a lot, I’m living a lot, I am happy, I don’t know how long I am staying but that is ok, I’ll wait until I feel it is time to move on, no need to plan, after all in Ghana planning is almost impossible ‘life is free’!!
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Hairdressing!
This blog in entitled ‘Hairdressing’ largely because I have spent the last 2 weeks out of Accra in the Eastern Region facilitating a residential training course for 22 deaf women from all over Ghana where their existing hairdressing skills have been polished by the equivalent of Ghana’s Toni & Guy to make them into skilled professionals who are able to charge good rates for quality hairdressing (but perhaps also because I have had a rather bad haircut!). I have been amazed how quickly these girls have perfected the styles taught to them and have learnt a lot about African hairdressing and hairstyles myself in the process. We’ve learnt braiding, twisting, weave on, corn roll, to mention just a few, we’ve been shampooing and relaxing hair with buckets of water carried on heads from wells and it has been great. The 12 day course included 2 days of small business training where myself and another VSO (ex finance director) taught basis accounts, marketing skills and customer service so the girls are a little more clued up about how they will make money at the end of the course when they go back to their home towns and villages. Each of the 22 participants have had their hair practiced on so they all have a new style to showcase and help promote their skills when they go home…even I have had my hair braided with extensions so they could practice on Obruni hair (White man hair)….the end result has left me looking like an egg and I will be removing it in the car on the way home so as not to offend any of the girls!! As I reflect on the 12 days I can say undoubtedly that it has been a success, but in the early stages there were many problems I had not anticipated and since being with the deaf for 12 days I have learnt plenty of new things!
1) Medicine. I have been amazed at how many drugs these ladies have consumed over the 12 days, most have taken an Andrews before bed and many have complained that they need ‘trycylicate’ which is apparently for ‘running stomach’. I guess I should have thought about this in advance as a trip to the doctor over here always results in a cocktail of drugs being administered and I have seen the rate my colleagues take drugs for the smallest ache or pain but I was surprised that they came to me for drugs, at home you would be expected to carry whatever you may need with you not come to the conference organizer if you need an immodium….in fact I think that would be the last person I would want to go to!!!
2) Illness. In 12 days I visited hospital on 3 separate occasions, 2 suspected cases of Malaria and 1 pregnancy. Initially I was shocked by these trips but as the days went on I began to realize that medical care is expensive in Ghana but when you are away you are covered by the organizations money so I think a lot of them were waiting to go to the doctor!! Moreover as a deaf woman here in Ghana it is not everyday you have access to a Sign Language Interpreter to go to hospital with you…it wouldn’t surprise me if they were waiting to take advantage of that…who can blame them!!
3) Food. The programme has attracted many young, beautiful deaf women most of whom have fantastic figures despite having multiple children. The rate these women can put away food is beyond me, a cooked breakfast, snack, lunch and dinner is often followed by left overs from the kitchen or a trip into town to buy Kelewelle (spicy fried plantain) is no problem for these girls and they are often complaining that they are hungry…I knew Ghanaians loved to eat but I guess I assumed these girls with the great figures exercised some sort of control!!!
One thing I have been delighted by on this training programme which I hadn’t thought about before was the fact that it offered the average Ghanaian women some well earned rest and relaxation. I know I have mentioned before in previous blogs that the Ghanaian women works so hard and she never gets a break, food still needs to be cooked, babies cared for, floors swept, produce sold, clothes washed and the concept of vacation is along way off for all but the cream of society. But this programme gave 22 women from all over Ghana 12 days without cooking a meal, 12 days without attending to the daily chores and it also gave them the chance to socialize with other deaf women…something that is not an everyday occurrence for these girls. I know in my first few months in Ghana I craved female company, particularly that of young women similar to myself, how much more is it the case for these women?! I had the privilege of sharing a room with the female Sign Language Interpreter, Lydia, who is a great women and a lot of fun, in the interconnecting room was Patricia the Women’s Wing National President, I was amazed and encouraged to see that during the evenings women came to our room to seek advice on their marital problems, their challenges with business and education and a whole host of other issues. Young deaf women coming to a more established lady who imparted advice and acted as a role model….it was very encouraging and quite something….it made me realize the benefits of this project have been multiple.
I guess another benefit to the programme has been the informal education of the 4 hairdressing trainers on deafness and deaf issues. The trainers are fantastic up beat, glamorous Ghanaian women who are very good at what they do and are very much the average man on the street. The way the trainers have interacted with the deaf has been amazing to see; they started a little wary but have finished so enthusiastic they are even trying to work without an interpreter, preferring to show the girls with their hands etc. They started by asking questions such as ‘Do they have deaf people in other countries as well as Ghana’ and have finished understanding a little more about what it means to be deaf and how much a deaf person can do….I believe attitudes have been changed and as these hairdressers go back to Accra I hope they represent the rights of the deaf and disabled in their own community.
The training programme closed with a ceremony where the women who looked stunning in traditional African attire were presented with certificates and encouraging comments were made, the district chief executive attended and promised to do more for the disabled in the region. The ceremony was followed by a photo session and a few drinks and nibbles Ghana style (fried gizzard on sticks and a bottle of fanta). A British donor has been identified to help these 22 women with start up costs so equipment such as hair dryer, shampoo, towels and wigs (an essential in African hairdressing!) and these will be distributed to the trained hairdressers so they can start working which is fantastic.
I left the Eastern Region feeling satisfied that the programme had gone well and even got a well done from my boss (a real rarity!). I was so excited to come back to Accra, after 2 weeks away I was ready to come back, as we drove in to the bustling, busy, dusty, loud metropolis on Friday evening my heart beat with a sense of excitement – I was pleased to be back, after 10 months I felt this is my home, this is where I want to be.
1) Medicine. I have been amazed at how many drugs these ladies have consumed over the 12 days, most have taken an Andrews before bed and many have complained that they need ‘trycylicate’ which is apparently for ‘running stomach’. I guess I should have thought about this in advance as a trip to the doctor over here always results in a cocktail of drugs being administered and I have seen the rate my colleagues take drugs for the smallest ache or pain but I was surprised that they came to me for drugs, at home you would be expected to carry whatever you may need with you not come to the conference organizer if you need an immodium….in fact I think that would be the last person I would want to go to!!!
2) Illness. In 12 days I visited hospital on 3 separate occasions, 2 suspected cases of Malaria and 1 pregnancy. Initially I was shocked by these trips but as the days went on I began to realize that medical care is expensive in Ghana but when you are away you are covered by the organizations money so I think a lot of them were waiting to go to the doctor!! Moreover as a deaf woman here in Ghana it is not everyday you have access to a Sign Language Interpreter to go to hospital with you…it wouldn’t surprise me if they were waiting to take advantage of that…who can blame them!!
3) Food. The programme has attracted many young, beautiful deaf women most of whom have fantastic figures despite having multiple children. The rate these women can put away food is beyond me, a cooked breakfast, snack, lunch and dinner is often followed by left overs from the kitchen or a trip into town to buy Kelewelle (spicy fried plantain) is no problem for these girls and they are often complaining that they are hungry…I knew Ghanaians loved to eat but I guess I assumed these girls with the great figures exercised some sort of control!!!
One thing I have been delighted by on this training programme which I hadn’t thought about before was the fact that it offered the average Ghanaian women some well earned rest and relaxation. I know I have mentioned before in previous blogs that the Ghanaian women works so hard and she never gets a break, food still needs to be cooked, babies cared for, floors swept, produce sold, clothes washed and the concept of vacation is along way off for all but the cream of society. But this programme gave 22 women from all over Ghana 12 days without cooking a meal, 12 days without attending to the daily chores and it also gave them the chance to socialize with other deaf women…something that is not an everyday occurrence for these girls. I know in my first few months in Ghana I craved female company, particularly that of young women similar to myself, how much more is it the case for these women?! I had the privilege of sharing a room with the female Sign Language Interpreter, Lydia, who is a great women and a lot of fun, in the interconnecting room was Patricia the Women’s Wing National President, I was amazed and encouraged to see that during the evenings women came to our room to seek advice on their marital problems, their challenges with business and education and a whole host of other issues. Young deaf women coming to a more established lady who imparted advice and acted as a role model….it was very encouraging and quite something….it made me realize the benefits of this project have been multiple.
I guess another benefit to the programme has been the informal education of the 4 hairdressing trainers on deafness and deaf issues. The trainers are fantastic up beat, glamorous Ghanaian women who are very good at what they do and are very much the average man on the street. The way the trainers have interacted with the deaf has been amazing to see; they started a little wary but have finished so enthusiastic they are even trying to work without an interpreter, preferring to show the girls with their hands etc. They started by asking questions such as ‘Do they have deaf people in other countries as well as Ghana’ and have finished understanding a little more about what it means to be deaf and how much a deaf person can do….I believe attitudes have been changed and as these hairdressers go back to Accra I hope they represent the rights of the deaf and disabled in their own community.
The training programme closed with a ceremony where the women who looked stunning in traditional African attire were presented with certificates and encouraging comments were made, the district chief executive attended and promised to do more for the disabled in the region. The ceremony was followed by a photo session and a few drinks and nibbles Ghana style (fried gizzard on sticks and a bottle of fanta). A British donor has been identified to help these 22 women with start up costs so equipment such as hair dryer, shampoo, towels and wigs (an essential in African hairdressing!) and these will be distributed to the trained hairdressers so they can start working which is fantastic.
I left the Eastern Region feeling satisfied that the programme had gone well and even got a well done from my boss (a real rarity!). I was so excited to come back to Accra, after 2 weeks away I was ready to come back, as we drove in to the bustling, busy, dusty, loud metropolis on Friday evening my heart beat with a sense of excitement – I was pleased to be back, after 10 months I felt this is my home, this is where I want to be.
Monday, 5 July 2010
The Beautiful Game
It would be fair to say that I have never watched so much football since I have been living in Ghana, the African Cup of Nations and the World Cup taking place in South Africa have meant that Ghana has been in football frenzy for much of 2010. The atmosphere has been incredible here in Accra, cars, houses faces and bodies have all been painted with the beautiful red, green and gold of Ghana’s flag, music has been blaring, the vuvuzellas sounding and people have been shaking their stuff in celebration dances all over the city.
It is amazing to see the Ghanaians attitude towards football, EVERYONE loves it, EVERYONE is proudly a Black Star (the name for Ghana’s national team) and EVERYONE says with absolute conviction before any match that they are going to win. The world cup always makes me think about national pride it is one of the very few things which brings us together on a global basis and helps us remember which country we belong to. When asked if I am supporting Ghana in the street I always respond positively and have really got into the football frenzy, but when asked if I am supporting Ghana over England the Ghanaians will say that it is impossible as I still bleed English and it is true for a woman who has little interest in football most of the time the world cup brings something out in me, a love for my country a heart beating fervently for those 3 Lions!!! But somehow in England I can’t help think that we have gone slightly wrong with our expressions of devotion to football and indeed our country, when watching a match here there is nothing but encouragement shouted at the T.V, if Ghana scores the whole street will break out into a mass of dancing, singing and shouting people, old women dancing with young men and children running up and down waving flags. If Ghana looses or misses a penalty (I’m thinking of the tragic example of Ghana’s world cup exit this year) there is no shouting or complaining but an almost sense of empathy with the players, a never mind, a win some you loose some attitude. There is no complaining, analysis of how they could do better or shouting and there is certainly no violence, surely this empathy, this cest la vie attitude shows much more national pride than our ‘fight to win’ stance which so often ends up in broken glass and bloodshed. When the black stars are playing we see every Ghanaian as one, truly united over a common goal whether they are standing in the street crowed around an old black and white telly or watching it in the president’s castle the Ghanaians are together, in a country where there are many religions, tribes and languages I think this is something quite beautiful and should be applauded.
I guess the football fever has been amplified this year as Ghana was the last team to be knocked out of Africa’s world cup…the sense of ‘Do it for Africa’ has been quite something and it has been a true privilege to be in this country during this time. We decided to watch every Ghana game in a different kind of situation and these have all been unique and memorable in their own ways, from watching in at one of the most famous bars in Osu which I guess can be likened as the ‘Oxford Street’ of Accra, to our neighborhood drinking spot, to a bar on the beach and the final match against Uruguay like many locals watch football in a dark room huddled around a TV in a small town outside the capital. The most noticeable thing about watching football wherever you are in Ghana is the atmosphere at half time, as soon as the whistle blows the Ghanaians are up dancing, shaking the hips and bottoms like there is no tomorrow in jubilation – whatever the score. As the second half starts everyone sits down and watches the game, what is perhaps the most bizarre thing about watching football in Ghana is what happens at the end of the match, no matter what the outcome of the game is Ghanaians will fairly swiftly head home as soon as the game has finished, the party is really at half time….I haven’t been able to find out why people don’t stay around to celebrate!!!
Watching the England games in Accra has of course been a little different to watching Ghana play, but amazingly the Ghanaians LOVE England, I imagine because of the amount of them that follow the English Premier League, they are always on our side. It was a great experience to watch the rather unfortunate England Germany match in Ghana cheering for those 3 lions just as much as my Ghanaian contemporaries!!!
It is amazing to see the Ghanaians attitude towards football, EVERYONE loves it, EVERYONE is proudly a Black Star (the name for Ghana’s national team) and EVERYONE says with absolute conviction before any match that they are going to win. The world cup always makes me think about national pride it is one of the very few things which brings us together on a global basis and helps us remember which country we belong to. When asked if I am supporting Ghana in the street I always respond positively and have really got into the football frenzy, but when asked if I am supporting Ghana over England the Ghanaians will say that it is impossible as I still bleed English and it is true for a woman who has little interest in football most of the time the world cup brings something out in me, a love for my country a heart beating fervently for those 3 Lions!!! But somehow in England I can’t help think that we have gone slightly wrong with our expressions of devotion to football and indeed our country, when watching a match here there is nothing but encouragement shouted at the T.V, if Ghana scores the whole street will break out into a mass of dancing, singing and shouting people, old women dancing with young men and children running up and down waving flags. If Ghana looses or misses a penalty (I’m thinking of the tragic example of Ghana’s world cup exit this year) there is no shouting or complaining but an almost sense of empathy with the players, a never mind, a win some you loose some attitude. There is no complaining, analysis of how they could do better or shouting and there is certainly no violence, surely this empathy, this cest la vie attitude shows much more national pride than our ‘fight to win’ stance which so often ends up in broken glass and bloodshed. When the black stars are playing we see every Ghanaian as one, truly united over a common goal whether they are standing in the street crowed around an old black and white telly or watching it in the president’s castle the Ghanaians are together, in a country where there are many religions, tribes and languages I think this is something quite beautiful and should be applauded.
I guess the football fever has been amplified this year as Ghana was the last team to be knocked out of Africa’s world cup…the sense of ‘Do it for Africa’ has been quite something and it has been a true privilege to be in this country during this time. We decided to watch every Ghana game in a different kind of situation and these have all been unique and memorable in their own ways, from watching in at one of the most famous bars in Osu which I guess can be likened as the ‘Oxford Street’ of Accra, to our neighborhood drinking spot, to a bar on the beach and the final match against Uruguay like many locals watch football in a dark room huddled around a TV in a small town outside the capital. The most noticeable thing about watching football wherever you are in Ghana is the atmosphere at half time, as soon as the whistle blows the Ghanaians are up dancing, shaking the hips and bottoms like there is no tomorrow in jubilation – whatever the score. As the second half starts everyone sits down and watches the game, what is perhaps the most bizarre thing about watching football in Ghana is what happens at the end of the match, no matter what the outcome of the game is Ghanaians will fairly swiftly head home as soon as the game has finished, the party is really at half time….I haven’t been able to find out why people don’t stay around to celebrate!!!
Watching the England games in Accra has of course been a little different to watching Ghana play, but amazingly the Ghanaians LOVE England, I imagine because of the amount of them that follow the English Premier League, they are always on our side. It was a great experience to watch the rather unfortunate England Germany match in Ghana cheering for those 3 lions just as much as my Ghanaian contemporaries!!!
Friday, 25 June 2010
Wedding!
As the wedding season kicks off in the UK it is with great excitement that I report that today I attended my first wedding in Ghana. People’s social calendars seem to be jam packed with weddings and funerals in Ghana and both are very significant events with a huge emphasis on celebration which is hardly surprising given the fact that Ghanaians love to get dressed up, eat, drink and dance. This was not my first invitation to a wedding here, hardly a Sunday morning goes by without the whole church congregation being invited to one wedding or another, but this was a friend’s wedding, the first one I received the invitation card for and the first one I genuinely wanted to go to, now being experienced in the sheer length of celebrations, speeches and events I decided to wait until I knew I really wanted to go!
The bride is Faustina or Fausty a twenty something who works for Ghana Federation of the Disabled in the office downstairs from me (for those of you reading my blog regularly she is the lady who showed me where to buy an affordable dress for the Marine Ball). I really like Fausty and it was a true joy and privilege to be invited to her wedding. The groom, well I’d love to tell you more about him but strangely I didn’t meet him, he wasn’t present, in fact he wasn’t even in the country! He works in the USA as many 20/30 something Ghanaians do, it seems to be considered some sort of Mecca (along with London, not the UK in general, which never ceases to make me smile) so he is a great catch, but unfortunately visa laws dictate that he couldn’t come back – even for his own wedding! This is something I can believe as I am currently helping a number of deaf 20/30 something’s who have programmes to attend overseas get a visa which is proving to be a nightmare as we are even having to travel to another West African Country to get one as the relevant embassy is not here in Accra – another reminder of how fortunate I am to have my citizenship and to have pretty much every embassy in the world a maximum of 5hrs away by good transport systems. Anyway slightly off the point, back to the groom – I did at least see him as a rather nice framed, glamour shot was passed around to the guests. I am sure you are now wondering how these 2 young people could get legally married if both bride and groom were not present, a question which I quickly posed to my colleagues with whom I was sat at a table with. The answer was simple, this ceremony we were about to watch was essential in the Ghanaians ability to get married but it was not where the legal contract was signed.
The ceremony was fascinating and took place in the garden of Fausty’s grandma’s home, the bride’s family seated on one side and the grooms on the other. Fausty herself did not get involved in the action until much later in the day. Tradition dictates that an elderly women takes on the role of master of ceremonies and asks the grooms family to present the dowry, a lot of analogies to the groom plucking one of the families beautiful flowers were made and the MC asks the grooms family what they grooms family would bring in return for their daughter. I know all of this because one of my colleagues kindly translated the Twi into English for me; in fact I was sat in the ‘translation corner’ as the ceremony was also being translated into Sign Language. The grooms family then presented the dowry which consisted of some beautiful cloth, some special food, alcoholic drinks, a bible, the wedding ring, rather bizarrely a suitcase(!) and a ‘knocking fee’, this is money which is presented to the bride’s family after the grooms family have asked the bride’s family if she will marry their son. After the dowry is brought in by the female cousins and aunties and placed in the middle of the room Fausty is called out of her Grandmother’s house, she looks stunning in a blue, yellow and red traditional African two piece made from Kente cloth which is very expensive and woven in Ghana. She is also asked by the MC if she accepts her husband’s proposal as her family have already said yes, she says yes and is forced to say it three times as tradition dictates. Now comes the presentation of the ring which is first prayed over by a senior member of the church, you may be wondering at this point who will give Fausty the ring as her groom is away, at this point the grooms brother steps in and they go through the whole marriage vows as we know it! (rather bizarre if you ask me!). So Fausty and her husband in America are now married in Ghanaian tradition and the music started, drinks were distributed along with party bags which contained a hanky (or more commonly known amongst the VSO community as a ‘sweat rag’ which is exactly that, a rag you use to wipe the sweat from your ever dripping face, a daily handbag essential) which says Fausty and Emmanuel, 12th June 2010 in a love heart and a rather randomly a plain white plastic plate, when I ask my colleagues why we got given a plate they tell me it is so every time you use the plate you remember the wedding, unfortunately I left mine in the taxi on the way home!!
It was a fantastic day and a real joy to be out of the office celebrating with my colleagues. Food was served, typical Ghanaian card overload with the traditional roasted goat which was delicious ( my enjoyment of which was aided by the Imodium/ex lax cocktail consumed before the wedding – steel strength stomach not quite back to normal after the recent bout of food poisoning incident!). One of the highlights of the day was the feast for the eyes that the various different outfits provided. Ghanaians love to dress up and they really know how to put outfits together, the women in brightly coloured 2 pieces some with matching headscarf’s and the men in robes – yes that is right, full robes as in a massive piece of material wrapped around you like a toga. These robes are worn by the older men, particularly on Sunday’s at Church when everyone is dressed to the nines, the chest is bare with material tossed over one shoulder, the robe creates an illusion that one is broader than one is and has an almost regal air particularly when combined with the traditional beads. My housemate Katherine and I always joke about these robes, as much as I love to see someone wearing one we cannot help but laugh about the prospect of a date showing up wearing a robe – a definite deal breaker!
Once we had eaten it was time for dancing, the volume was turned up and Fausty hit the dance floor for her first dance. My colleagues know I like to dance as every time music comes on in the office I cannot help but move a little. At the end of year conference back in December I was pestered to get up and dance in a bar, but I refused as it would have been a case of white lady dancing on her own while everyone clapped and laughed. I finally got up to dance at the wedding after persistent petering and as I feared the whole wedding stopped to watch me. I’m sure you are aware of the popular saying that ‘white men can’t dance’ and compared to Ghanaians I guess we can’t but I know that thankfully I can hold my own on the dance floor. Dance classes as a school girl, weekly exercise classes based around dance routines and a genuine love for African rhythms combined with plenty of practice on the night spots of Accra have all contributed to my ability to hold my own on the Africa dance floor. My colleagues were impressed and the MC of the wedding announced ‘eh obruni can dance paaaaaa’, which basically means that the white lady can dance, needless to say EVERYONE watched more closely and the only other white man (obruni) at the wedding was brought up to strut his stuff. Unfortunately Paul a 50/60 something who works for the Danish Development Agency definitely cannot dance and a rather awkward few songs played as his endured his obligatory stint on the floor.
By late afternoon it was time to go home, but only after a stop at my colleagues home to greet his wife. Needless to say a good time was had by all…..now I await my invitation for when the groom is in town!!!
The bride is Faustina or Fausty a twenty something who works for Ghana Federation of the Disabled in the office downstairs from me (for those of you reading my blog regularly she is the lady who showed me where to buy an affordable dress for the Marine Ball). I really like Fausty and it was a true joy and privilege to be invited to her wedding. The groom, well I’d love to tell you more about him but strangely I didn’t meet him, he wasn’t present, in fact he wasn’t even in the country! He works in the USA as many 20/30 something Ghanaians do, it seems to be considered some sort of Mecca (along with London, not the UK in general, which never ceases to make me smile) so he is a great catch, but unfortunately visa laws dictate that he couldn’t come back – even for his own wedding! This is something I can believe as I am currently helping a number of deaf 20/30 something’s who have programmes to attend overseas get a visa which is proving to be a nightmare as we are even having to travel to another West African Country to get one as the relevant embassy is not here in Accra – another reminder of how fortunate I am to have my citizenship and to have pretty much every embassy in the world a maximum of 5hrs away by good transport systems. Anyway slightly off the point, back to the groom – I did at least see him as a rather nice framed, glamour shot was passed around to the guests. I am sure you are now wondering how these 2 young people could get legally married if both bride and groom were not present, a question which I quickly posed to my colleagues with whom I was sat at a table with. The answer was simple, this ceremony we were about to watch was essential in the Ghanaians ability to get married but it was not where the legal contract was signed.
The ceremony was fascinating and took place in the garden of Fausty’s grandma’s home, the bride’s family seated on one side and the grooms on the other. Fausty herself did not get involved in the action until much later in the day. Tradition dictates that an elderly women takes on the role of master of ceremonies and asks the grooms family to present the dowry, a lot of analogies to the groom plucking one of the families beautiful flowers were made and the MC asks the grooms family what they grooms family would bring in return for their daughter. I know all of this because one of my colleagues kindly translated the Twi into English for me; in fact I was sat in the ‘translation corner’ as the ceremony was also being translated into Sign Language. The grooms family then presented the dowry which consisted of some beautiful cloth, some special food, alcoholic drinks, a bible, the wedding ring, rather bizarrely a suitcase(!) and a ‘knocking fee’, this is money which is presented to the bride’s family after the grooms family have asked the bride’s family if she will marry their son. After the dowry is brought in by the female cousins and aunties and placed in the middle of the room Fausty is called out of her Grandmother’s house, she looks stunning in a blue, yellow and red traditional African two piece made from Kente cloth which is very expensive and woven in Ghana. She is also asked by the MC if she accepts her husband’s proposal as her family have already said yes, she says yes and is forced to say it three times as tradition dictates. Now comes the presentation of the ring which is first prayed over by a senior member of the church, you may be wondering at this point who will give Fausty the ring as her groom is away, at this point the grooms brother steps in and they go through the whole marriage vows as we know it! (rather bizarre if you ask me!). So Fausty and her husband in America are now married in Ghanaian tradition and the music started, drinks were distributed along with party bags which contained a hanky (or more commonly known amongst the VSO community as a ‘sweat rag’ which is exactly that, a rag you use to wipe the sweat from your ever dripping face, a daily handbag essential) which says Fausty and Emmanuel, 12th June 2010 in a love heart and a rather randomly a plain white plastic plate, when I ask my colleagues why we got given a plate they tell me it is so every time you use the plate you remember the wedding, unfortunately I left mine in the taxi on the way home!!
It was a fantastic day and a real joy to be out of the office celebrating with my colleagues. Food was served, typical Ghanaian card overload with the traditional roasted goat which was delicious ( my enjoyment of which was aided by the Imodium/ex lax cocktail consumed before the wedding – steel strength stomach not quite back to normal after the recent bout of food poisoning incident!). One of the highlights of the day was the feast for the eyes that the various different outfits provided. Ghanaians love to dress up and they really know how to put outfits together, the women in brightly coloured 2 pieces some with matching headscarf’s and the men in robes – yes that is right, full robes as in a massive piece of material wrapped around you like a toga. These robes are worn by the older men, particularly on Sunday’s at Church when everyone is dressed to the nines, the chest is bare with material tossed over one shoulder, the robe creates an illusion that one is broader than one is and has an almost regal air particularly when combined with the traditional beads. My housemate Katherine and I always joke about these robes, as much as I love to see someone wearing one we cannot help but laugh about the prospect of a date showing up wearing a robe – a definite deal breaker!
Once we had eaten it was time for dancing, the volume was turned up and Fausty hit the dance floor for her first dance. My colleagues know I like to dance as every time music comes on in the office I cannot help but move a little. At the end of year conference back in December I was pestered to get up and dance in a bar, but I refused as it would have been a case of white lady dancing on her own while everyone clapped and laughed. I finally got up to dance at the wedding after persistent petering and as I feared the whole wedding stopped to watch me. I’m sure you are aware of the popular saying that ‘white men can’t dance’ and compared to Ghanaians I guess we can’t but I know that thankfully I can hold my own on the dance floor. Dance classes as a school girl, weekly exercise classes based around dance routines and a genuine love for African rhythms combined with plenty of practice on the night spots of Accra have all contributed to my ability to hold my own on the Africa dance floor. My colleagues were impressed and the MC of the wedding announced ‘eh obruni can dance paaaaaa’, which basically means that the white lady can dance, needless to say EVERYONE watched more closely and the only other white man (obruni) at the wedding was brought up to strut his stuff. Unfortunately Paul a 50/60 something who works for the Danish Development Agency definitely cannot dance and a rather awkward few songs played as his endured his obligatory stint on the floor.
By late afternoon it was time to go home, but only after a stop at my colleagues home to greet his wife. Needless to say a good time was had by all…..now I await my invitation for when the groom is in town!!!
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
'This is Africa'
“This is Africa”, sometimes shortened to TIA, is a phrase I hate. It is meant to lessen the shock of what you see here, but I don’t want that shock lessened. When spoken by whites you can almost hear the unspoken “and what did you expect from a bunch of savages?” When used by Africans the resignation and defeat is depressing.
Personally I want to remain angry about the poverty I see and corruption I hear about and witness. I want to remain angry that a child born in northern Ghana is 11 times more likely to lose his or her mother when she bears them than a child in England, and that they can expect 20 fewer years of life than an English baby. I want to remain angry that the Ghanaian child is going to receive a much worse education and have almost poor job prospects. Righteous indignation seems the only response to the incompetence and corruption that fritter away the meagre resources that are available.
“This is Africa” is intellectually lazy, applying one explanation to many phenomena, complacent in its implicit assumption that this is how things must remain and often inaccurately assumes certain problems or categories of problems are particular to Africa rather than to poverty generally, or indeed universal.
But we are presented with challenges everyday that frustrate us and have been known to bring me to tears, not because I feel moved by the poverty I see but because I feel so incapable of doing anything about it with the systems here. But still we continue one step at a time, a small drop in the ocean. I am scared that the often laissez-faire attitude of many here is rubbing off on me, when you no longer feel moved by the beggars on the street or knowledge that people die from malaria as they can’t get the drugs needed…what emotion do you feel?…I’m not sure…something like exhaustion I guess…Probably what most Ghanaians feel on a regular basis and who can blame them...seeing and experiencing the challenges of Africa but feeling exhausted by and powerless to do anything about it.
My prayer is that I would have patience, grace and diplomacy in situations when I know I can do nothing about them, but I would have courage, determination and motivation to act when I see I can.
Personally I want to remain angry about the poverty I see and corruption I hear about and witness. I want to remain angry that a child born in northern Ghana is 11 times more likely to lose his or her mother when she bears them than a child in England, and that they can expect 20 fewer years of life than an English baby. I want to remain angry that the Ghanaian child is going to receive a much worse education and have almost poor job prospects. Righteous indignation seems the only response to the incompetence and corruption that fritter away the meagre resources that are available.
“This is Africa” is intellectually lazy, applying one explanation to many phenomena, complacent in its implicit assumption that this is how things must remain and often inaccurately assumes certain problems or categories of problems are particular to Africa rather than to poverty generally, or indeed universal.
But we are presented with challenges everyday that frustrate us and have been known to bring me to tears, not because I feel moved by the poverty I see but because I feel so incapable of doing anything about it with the systems here. But still we continue one step at a time, a small drop in the ocean. I am scared that the often laissez-faire attitude of many here is rubbing off on me, when you no longer feel moved by the beggars on the street or knowledge that people die from malaria as they can’t get the drugs needed…what emotion do you feel?…I’m not sure…something like exhaustion I guess…Probably what most Ghanaians feel on a regular basis and who can blame them...seeing and experiencing the challenges of Africa but feeling exhausted by and powerless to do anything about it.
My prayer is that I would have patience, grace and diplomacy in situations when I know I can do nothing about them, but I would have courage, determination and motivation to act when I see I can.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Hospital
It is fair to say that I would be doing very well to come and live in Ghana and not have a trip to the hospital…I guess I expected it at some point…what I didn’t expect however was quite the sudden rate my ailments came upon me and indeed the force at which my body can react to things It is not liking!
Like the UK the first weekend in May is a bank holiday and it was with a sense of great excitement that nearly 20 VSO’s headed to the beach for a long weekend of sun, sea, sand and ‘Star’ (a favorite local beer). We had great fun sunbathing, playing games, swimming and dancing bare foot in the sand to live music. We stayed at the ultimate backpacker beach resort in Ghana ‘Big Millys’ which was the perfect setting for a great weekend. However rather unfortunately I woke on bank holiday Monday to leap out of bed and rush to the bathroom to vomit rather violently, I’ll save you the details as I am a lady but let’s just say that this continued every 10-20 minutes for the entire day, by 4pm I was not in a good state, I couldn’t even keep a sip of water down, my whole body ached, I was white as a sheet with a fever. We decided (or rather my amazingly supportive friends here) decided that I should go back to Accra to hospital, so a taxi was chartered and off we went stopping along the way for me to jump out of the taxi and throw up on the side of the road whilst children pointed and laughed at the white lady who was sick.
And so we arrived at the hospital, I looked a sight to behold in my swimwear, sarong and sick bag, but we got seen very quickly as it appears no one in Ghana is sick on a bank holiday. The doctor sent me for blood tests fairly swiftly where my housemate Katherine had to literally beg the blood testing guy to give me something to vomit in at which point he took the yellow bag used to ‘safely’ dispose of the needles tipped out the contents and shoved it under my nose!!! Soon the doctor diagnosed me with malaria and food poisoning gave me an injection in my bottom and then a sedative as I was fairly teary by this point and sent me to the female ward to be hooked up to a drip. So there I spent the next 3 days, I don’t remember much of it, but one memory that sticks in my mind is waking up to rush to the toilet to vomit only to find another woman doing the same thing, I think the fact that we were happy to share the same toilet bowl to vomit in is testament to quite how sick we were!!
The care I received in hospital was really quite good and I was so blessed to have
visitors who were greatly concerned about my well being (including my male colleagues which I was most embarrassed about!). The nurses were great and I was particularly grateful to a Russian nurse who said I was like her daughter and came to check on me all the time and telling me stories of how she met her Ghanaian Doctor husband in Moscow and how they both worked as illegal immigrants in kitchens living in one room in London in order to get money to bring to Ghana…are our streets really paved with gold!?
I was really looked after when I was ill which was great, the only downside about the Ghanaian hospital I was in (and it wasn’t a private one) was the food. I couldn’t eat much in hospital largely due to the fact I was ill but this was not helped by the meals which were served up, some how hot pepper soup doesn’t quite feel like the thing you want after a 24hr vomiting session. When I asked for plain food a rather strange dish called ‘Tom Brown’ appeared…for days I kept thinking this meal which is rather like a sour fermented porridge was called ‘Tom Jones’!!!
Anyway all’s well that ends well and I am now back at work taking it easy and I thank God for my health and that I had access to medical facilities.
Like the UK the first weekend in May is a bank holiday and it was with a sense of great excitement that nearly 20 VSO’s headed to the beach for a long weekend of sun, sea, sand and ‘Star’ (a favorite local beer). We had great fun sunbathing, playing games, swimming and dancing bare foot in the sand to live music. We stayed at the ultimate backpacker beach resort in Ghana ‘Big Millys’ which was the perfect setting for a great weekend. However rather unfortunately I woke on bank holiday Monday to leap out of bed and rush to the bathroom to vomit rather violently, I’ll save you the details as I am a lady but let’s just say that this continued every 10-20 minutes for the entire day, by 4pm I was not in a good state, I couldn’t even keep a sip of water down, my whole body ached, I was white as a sheet with a fever. We decided (or rather my amazingly supportive friends here) decided that I should go back to Accra to hospital, so a taxi was chartered and off we went stopping along the way for me to jump out of the taxi and throw up on the side of the road whilst children pointed and laughed at the white lady who was sick.
And so we arrived at the hospital, I looked a sight to behold in my swimwear, sarong and sick bag, but we got seen very quickly as it appears no one in Ghana is sick on a bank holiday. The doctor sent me for blood tests fairly swiftly where my housemate Katherine had to literally beg the blood testing guy to give me something to vomit in at which point he took the yellow bag used to ‘safely’ dispose of the needles tipped out the contents and shoved it under my nose!!! Soon the doctor diagnosed me with malaria and food poisoning gave me an injection in my bottom and then a sedative as I was fairly teary by this point and sent me to the female ward to be hooked up to a drip. So there I spent the next 3 days, I don’t remember much of it, but one memory that sticks in my mind is waking up to rush to the toilet to vomit only to find another woman doing the same thing, I think the fact that we were happy to share the same toilet bowl to vomit in is testament to quite how sick we were!!
The care I received in hospital was really quite good and I was so blessed to have
visitors who were greatly concerned about my well being (including my male colleagues which I was most embarrassed about!). The nurses were great and I was particularly grateful to a Russian nurse who said I was like her daughter and came to check on me all the time and telling me stories of how she met her Ghanaian Doctor husband in Moscow and how they both worked as illegal immigrants in kitchens living in one room in London in order to get money to bring to Ghana…are our streets really paved with gold!?
I was really looked after when I was ill which was great, the only downside about the Ghanaian hospital I was in (and it wasn’t a private one) was the food. I couldn’t eat much in hospital largely due to the fact I was ill but this was not helped by the meals which were served up, some how hot pepper soup doesn’t quite feel like the thing you want after a 24hr vomiting session. When I asked for plain food a rather strange dish called ‘Tom Brown’ appeared…for days I kept thinking this meal which is rather like a sour fermented porridge was called ‘Tom Jones’!!!
Anyway all’s well that ends well and I am now back at work taking it easy and I thank God for my health and that I had access to medical facilities.
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