Things I still need to write about: my FACE trip, my Togo adventure, the Blue Skies factory visit, VGMA, Cape Coast with Nicole. So many day-to-day wonders that go unwritten about!

I just have to remember the approach of my friend in my TFL training. I wrote a whole notebook of notes, from front to back, and she wrote nothing. When I asked her how, she said that she had been trained to remember what was needed, and the other things will resurface in hre mind when/if they are needed. And if they aren't, what good are they written down anyway? Trust in the memory.

...

Buduburam Refugee Camp

Leon's sister Brigitte is in Ghana visiting. She is such an angel. One of those people that you watch and just wish you were as powerful as she is, and I mean powerful in the strong character kind of way.

The three of us rose early (6:30am) Monday morning and went to visit the Buduburam refugee camp, a camp that has over 20,000 refugees, most of whom are Liberian. Brigitte's husband had found a tour guide named Jordan who agreed to show us the camp. He also arranged for a group of four women from the community to come and tell us their stories and their needs.

The experience was fascinating and humbling. These people have built a functioning community from nothing. They came to Ghana to escape war, and have built their lives over the last 20 years from hard work and sacrifice.

Some facts about the camp:
It has been around for 22 years, with some of the inhabitants having been there the entire time.
The refugees do not receive Ghanaian health care or education, but perform these themselves.
Many children in the camp have not ever been to Liberia.
On June 30th, they are being given 90 days to leave or integrate before being considered illegal aliens and deported.
They are only allowed to bring 30kg of stuff to reestablis their lives in Liberia.
They will be given $300/adult and $200/child to start their new life in Liberia.
None of the houses they built or infrastructure can be sold or rented, but instead belongs to the Ghanaian government and will be taken.

I was shaken by the experience and humbled by the resilience of the people there. I have written a letter tonight and will apply as a volunteer with UNHCR (High Commision on Refugees) tomorrow. I hope there is some position that I can fill, or some way at all that I can get involved.

If not, I am thinking of ways I can unofficially benefit the community by helping them make decision about what they want to do by communication options to them. There is so much fear and distrust in the community towards Ghana and the UNHCR simply, I believe, because of a lack of effective and clear communication, and the appearance of having no choices.

Ghana has been full of these "aha" moments where I have seen things that really stretch my heart and challenge the pretty-pink-and-blue version of the world that I have in my head. 

Nicolas the taxi driver

Before I came to Ghana, a good friend of mine told me to write every single day, about anything in my mind. I told myself I would, and have not lived up to that at all. In some ways it is unfortunate because there are so many wonderful moments I would like to have written about. In reality though, I wasn't writing because the good times were too many and too long, and the time to write about them would have taken away from others that were still to be made. 

Now, nearly everyone has moved back to their home country and I have the time and energy to write about my life here in the past month or so. I want to write about a small moment today that really reminded me of why I love Ghana.

I was going to see my friend Anatu at Labadi Beach, so I grabbed a tro-tro that I thought would take me to her house. Instead, it took me near her house, but far enough away that I still needed at taxi cab. I took the first one I found, directly across from the beach and we started driving toward her house. The road is an undeveloped beach strip. Double lane highway with construction and rubble standing in between you and the white sandy beach and rolling waves. One day, this will be a tourist hot-spot.

My driver's name was Nicolas. As we were driving we saw a car crash that must have happened only minutes before. Nicolas was looking back at the accident and then he looked at me. I could see a curiosity on his face, the same curiosity I see on my dad's face whenever a police car goes by with its sirens ringing. I was not in a hurry, so I said to him, "want to go back and check it out?" He smiled, and agreed.

He stopped the car, and drove in reverse along the ditch until we were beside the accident. We went and looked. There was no injuries aside from both cars, a woman's bloodly lip, and the ruined tro-tro driver's career. After assessing the scene for three minutes or so, Nicolas and I got back into the car and drove on. It was so simple and so human, to be able to stop and experience the moment, even though he was technically losing time and money for doing it. It reminded me also of the tro-tro driver at the station two days ago who stopped his vehicle and got out, ran across the street and helped push a tro-tro that was being bump started. Or the guy who led me four blocks out of his way to make sure that I got where Iw as going safely, and then refused my money for his help. Or the two people in Togo who let us stay in their house all weekend just because they saw we needed a place to stay. This is serious, oh. Life here is free.

I have a lot of reflecting time coming up. Watching all of my international friends leave made th reality of my own departure real for the first time. I can't even decide if I am ready.

My time in Ghana up until this point has felt heavy.

There is a guy here named Matt. He is also Canadian, from Winnipeg. Matt has a peace about him that I have trouble understanding. On any given day, if you asked Matt how he is doing, he would tell you how happy he is, and how is loving his time in Ghana. He doesn't seem to have any grand ambitions, or at least he is not troubled by his ambitions. He is patient, content. He always has a little smirk on his face that shows how at ease he is here.

At first, that frustrated me. It seemed to me that he was naive. I felt that his simplicity and contentment was coming from an ignorance of the realities of Ghana. I told myself he was peaceful because of the drugs he smoked, or because he didn't have the same concern for addressing the world's problems that I do.

This weekend, though, I had a change of heart about Matt. I spent some time with him and realized that I was reacting so negatively to his peace because I was envious. I don't often feel at peace like that. Even in those moments that should be completely peaceful - on the beach by the ocean, under the sun, just ate a good meal, about to swim in the ocean - I feel a tightness in my stomach. There is something that prevents me from just letting go and being content in the moment.

This feeling tends to dominate my more routine days. When I am at university I am always feeling tense, like I need to learn more, faster. In my interactions with new people and with friends, there is a stress that I feel, like I am responsible for the conversation going well. I get exhausted by it, and my tiredness adds to my tension.

So I made a decision this weekend, that I need to relax. I am here for a short period of time. I won't understand or solve the development problems in Ghana. I won't become fluent in Twi. I won't learn all of the traditional songs and dances, won't read all the African literature, won't learn to cook all the African foods. But I will do some of all of these things, and I am deciding to be happy with what I do learn, rather than anxious about the things that are left unlearned.

I am transitioning from a mindset of having to learn everything there is to know about being Ghanaian, into a mindset of relaxation and enjoyment. I am going to start travelling more. I am going to do more spontaneous and exciting things (like dancing in the rain in my underwear!). I am going to treat my relationships more jovially, rather than the serious nature some of them have.

I hope that this is a lesson I can take with me back to Canada. Life is a journey and it is so important to enjoy the trip. I spend too much time stressing about being unprepared for the destination.

While I also believe that Matt's contentment results in less motivation to act and therefore less action, I also recognize that I am not helping anyone by feeling stressed and uneasy all the time. I am my better self when I am relaxed and happy.

Cheers to a spontaneous and (more) carefree summer! I can't wait. I am excited about life again.

Easter in Kwahu

In Ghana, Easter brings a nation-wide paragliding festival that happens on a mountain in the Easter Region called Kwahu. Leon and I decided to go, with our friends Victoria, Sky, and Sol. We didn't know where we were going and we had no place to stay other than my 3 person tent.

On the way to the station in Central Accra, I ran into a guy I know from the dance department and he took us where we needed to go, and saw us off on a tro-tro. Every time I am even the slightest bit lost there seems to be some Ghanaian person that helps me find my way and asks nothing in return. People are so generous with their time here. I know if I asked someone to show me directions in Vancouver, it is unlikely they would take me to the place I was looking for. I don't think I would either...

I had gone out to a party at the Canadian embassy the night before we left, so I had not done my laundry. I had no clean clothes left, so I washed a few shirts in the morning before we left and wore damp clothes when we left. It was nice actually, it kept me cool. I think I will start dipping my clothes in water before I go out.

The road was the worst I have ever been on. It was supposed to be a highway, but there was about a 2 hour section without cement, and with large potholes that forced the tro to drive about 20km/h. The trip that should have been about 3 hours took us about 6. On top of that, the road was all dry dirt, so we were driving in a dust storm for 3 hours. Our hair looked like we had dyed it dark red (the colour of the dirt here) and our clothes were visibly dirty. I won't even describe what it looked like when I blew my nose. And there were kids on the tro too. I was worried for their lungs.

Oh, and my seat in the tro-tro was a fold down seat that had no back except for a broken metal pole that used to support the back. I was sore by the end of the trip. But I forgot all about that as we were driving up the mountain. The sun was just setting, and the sky was starting to become dark, with pinks and purples. There were clouds. It was cooler on the mountain than in the valley. As we drive up the winding road, we had a view of the different plateaus of the mountain, totally forested, with the evening sky as its backdrop. It was so beautiful that I was not even concerned that it was almost dark and we had no place to stay.

We arrived in Mpraezo, the town we planned to stay in. It was hectic. It really was a festival. There were vehicles and people everywhere. Merchants, loud music, honking, flashing lights. It was a bit overwhelming, but I was happy to be swept up in the momentum.

As we expected, all the hotels were full. Leon, Victoria, and I had brought the 3 person tent to sleep in. Sky and Sol were supposed to meet up with friends but their plans fell through as we were climbing the hill. So we were now 5 with a 3 person tent. We decided to split up and search for a place to set up the tent. We went in two groups. Sky, Sol and I went one way; Leon and Victoria another.

We searched for the police station, so they could tell us where to go, but instead we ended up speaking with a man named Kofi, who told us he had a place for us to stay. We got into a taxi together, drove about 10 minutes out of town (yes, I was feeling a little uncomfortable at this point) to find an unfinished building that he said we could stay in. It had a room with a roof and bunk beds, but no lock on the door. There were already clothes in the room. I think someone else was staying there. It was not the best option.

Just at that moment, Leon and Victoria called and said they found a place with an old woman in the town. We hitch-hiked a ride back into town, met up with Leon and Victoria and started the most blessed weekend I have had in Ghana.

The family are among the people I cherish most in Ghana. Esther was the woman that Leon met. She invited us to stay. She is 23 and lives in Takoradi. She does traditional dance, writes her own gospel songs in Twi, and one of the most beautiful women I have met in Ghana - her looks and her personality.

The grandmother is named Charlotte, and she doesn't speak English. Leon and I have enough Twi that we were able to understand and communicate with her. She was very appreciative of that. Her son, who lived in London, had died not long ago. That weekend was his memorial. We found out later that the son was friends with many obrunis, and that our presence that weekend reminded Charlotte of her son. I do not think our presence there this weekend was a coincidence.

Angela was the young daughter. She is 8 years old, in class 2. She is the smartest little girl and so open. Her eyes are wide and bright, they cannot hide their curiosity and imagination. We all fell in love with all of them, but with Angela in particular. She was closest to Leon. It was nice to see him in that role, playing with her. Leon cares for people in a very deep and unique way. I was touched just to watch him and Angela play together.

There were two brothers, the older was named Emmanuel. He took a liking to me, and we played together a lot. He loved to do martial arts moves, and make funny noises like Arlan used to. Actually, Emmanuel was a like a young, Ghanaian version of Arlan. But less shy.

There were other family members too. Paulina, Jocelyne, Kwame, and a few others. They were all so open to our presence.

That night we went out to one of the many stages that had been set up around the town for the festival. We ate kebabs and danced azonto. Wherever we go, if we dance a little azonto, we start a flash mob of kids who want to watch us dance. This night was no exception. We were in the center of a crowd of kids who all dance better than us, and we danced azonto. It was great fun.

We all slept in a living room. In the morning, they prepared bread, Milo, and egg for us. My favourite breakfast in Ghana. We ate with Angela. To our surprise, Paulina, Angela, and Ethel decided to come up to the mountain with us to watch us paraglide. We ended up waiting all day and they never came around to us. They told us to come back the next day. We went home and had homemade fufu with the family. It was so delicious. Leon planned on attending church, so I decided I would go too. By the time the family was ready to go, we had missed the whole service. We arrived at the church as they were taking the Eucharist. We sat down, and they ended the service. Then we left.

That night we went to bed early. I was deciding whether I wanted to sleep or go join the party I could hear outside. I thought about it for a little while and fell asleep. No regrets.

Leon went to church the next morning, while we went back to the mountain. We waited the whole day again, with no success. Come back tomorrow they said. We got a refund instead. They all planned on leaving that night, but I decided to stay. They stayed too, because it was too late. That night was the best of all. We ate yam and sauce and then visited outside.

In gratitude for the weekend, we gave them family a card with some money in it. The moment was the most beautiful of the weekend. I grabbed Charlotte and Paulina's hand and stood holding their hand as Leon thanked them for their generosity in Twi. I have never heard Leon able to communicate such complex thoughts in Twi. It was a spiritual moment of gratitude and giving-back. There was something in that moment that calms me when I think about it. Then Charlotte blessed us in Twi. She told us about her son, about how we are always welcome at her house, and how grateful she was to have met us and shared Easter with us. It was one of those stop moments that I will never forget.

Leon told me after that he had been praying at the same moment that he met Ethel. He was praying that God put an angel in his path. And then Ethel was there. She truly was our angel. The whole night had a magic hanging above it. It was the best part of our weekend, one of the best parts of my time in Ghana. And it did not feel accidental.

Then we danced. We had a dance party, and we all danced in a circle. Some azonto. Some traditional African dance. Some free-style. It was fun and easy and everyone participated.
The night calmed down after that, with us playing little games with paper and rocks and whatever else was available.

At one point, Ethel sang us some of her songs that she had written in Twi. It fit right into the magical atmosphere of the night. Her voice was soft and unsure. It was too beautiful. Then Leon taught Ethel some salsa, and we all danced salsa - badly. I danced with Ethel, and we made up our own spinning dances. It was a very romantic moment.

Finally, Emmanuel and Angela became tired. Sky held Angela in her arms and I held Emmanuel and they both fell asleep. It was the perfect end to a perfect weekend. I went to sleep that night feeling completely content. I didn't care that I didn't paraglide. My time with this family was the best way I could have spent my time.

Then the next morning, as everyone was loading onto the bus to go back to Accra, I decided to stay. I gave them my bags, and stayed in Mpraezo. I was going to go try paragliding one more time. The moment was so perfect. Ethel, Paulina, and Angela stood there shocked as they watched the bus drive away without me. I was happy to stay a while longer with them.

I never did paraglide, because the weather was bad. I have no regrets about my weekend though. It ended up exceeding my expectations in totally unexpected ways.

TIGO

I was not very enthusiastic to enter last weekend. Leon, who I consider my best friend in Ghana, was going to Togo. He invited me, but due to VISA complications, the Ghanaian government has my passport until the end of April. So I can't leave the country until then.

I thought my weekend would be slow and uneventful. I was so wrong.

On Friday, I went on a class trip to the Volta Region. We were two busses full of theatre students, and I was one of only 4 obrunis. The purpose of our trip was an ambiguous mix of attending a theatre for development play, seeing the community's tourist sites, and practicing being amateur ethnographers, journalists, and academics. Parts were very uncomfortable for me. It felt like parachute tourism, where we come in large numbers and take take take from the community. the Ghanaian students seemed more at ease, and I can see why. I would be much more comfortable doing this kind of thing in a small town in Saskatchewan.

All of that aside, it was an incredible experience. I played with a group of kids who spoke 4 languages, tried stirring banku for the first time, witnessed a host of cultural events (plays, dances, songs, parades, puberty and initiation ceremonies), was hosted by the chief of the village who served us local food (akpele and okro) and some fresh palm wine, went for a walk through the forest to see a palm tree that had 14 heads, said a few words to the crowd about why the day was special, helped cut the cake that was presented to my professor for his birthday, and laughed in disbelief that he was gifted some bananas, avocados, palm wine, and a live goat! (apparently the goat, which was transported back to the city in the storage area under the bus, escaped when we arrived on campus and was found an hour later on the other side of campus!)

That night, I went to a highlighter party at the dance studio and drank some of the palm wine I was gifted earlier that day.

The next morning, at 6:30 am I met my friend Veronica (the Ghanaian woman with the monkey on her shoulders in my photos below) and we went shopping at Kantamanto market downtown Accra. I have never seen such a large market, or so many people and goods in one place. I have to admit that the consumer in me was very excited. I wanted to buy so many things. In the end, I bought jeans, shorts, and a pair of shoes. They are nice clothes, because everyone in Ghana looks nice and all the clothes I brought were grubby travel clothes.

Veronica took me to see her house, which is in a small community about an hour away from where I live. I met her sisters, saw her house, and then went home. We had such a nice time. Over lunch we had a long conversation about love, and the differences between Ghanaian and Canadian understandings of relationships. We really see marriage and partnership in different ways. To give an idea, Veronica said "You can't only follow love. If you do, you will get into trouble and end up unhappy." I thought of all the love songs, movies, books, stories, etc that we have in Canada that tell us exactly the opposite. All you need is love.

I came home, and expected to go to bed. Instead, I ran into two of my friends who were going to see an Italian circus that was in town. Obviously anyone who knows me knows that I can't say no to a circus. So I went. And I am so happy I did. It was literally like you would imagine one of the old, authentic traveling circuses would be. Even the small details like dirty, dusty rugs and limited security and surveillance made it feel real. There were tigers, alligators, snakes, and a kangaroo. They were actually the worst part of the show, because we all knew how they get treated. I felt so inspired after watching it though. The circus always opens my eyes and my mind to the possibilities of humans. We are capable of such incredible things!

Finally, on Sunday after church I went to the largest beach party of my life. Several hundred people gathered at a beach outside of Accra for a campus residence celebration. The whole beach was packed with people dancing. It started raining, just as the sun was going down, but we decided to dance in the rain anyway. It became so dark that you could only see silhouettes dancing around you. Between the darkness and the sprinkling rain, it was the most fantasy-like dancing experience I have had.

I woke up Monday morning wondering how I ever thought my weekend would be boring because I didn't go to Togo. TIGO - This Is Ghana Oh.

Marriage Proposal

Tonight was magical. It was like growing up really fast. A transition point into another period of my life.

My friend Katie is moving back to Canada tomorrow. She is sad, as are we. Tonight we were celebrating her stay here, a going away party at an Indian restaurant in Osu.

Earlier this month, Katie and one of my dearest Ghanaian friends Musah (or Justice) have started dating. They were always ambiguously close to each other, but a month ago Musah came out and openly declared that they were dating. I am happy for them, but sad for her leaving

when the relationship is in such a new and budding place.

So at the dinner tonight, Justice made me sit at the head of the table, and told me I would have the honour of giving a speech in honour of Katie. I was happy to do it. Actually, earlier that day I had had a conversation with Katie about her leaving. She started to cry and I told her the same thing I told Veronica when she moved away: "It is amazing to have loved others and to have been loved enough to shed tears when you leave a place. It shows that your time there was meaningful." I really mean that advice - speaking from my heart.

So I stood up and said just that. Then Josephine came up to me and told me Justice had a surprise for Katie. I announced that there was a surprise, but Justice came running over to me telling me he couldn't do it because she was already teary eyed. I have never seen him nervous even for one moment before and now he was hiding from something he had planned to do. I didn't know what he planned on doing, but I just looked at him, and in a tone that is more assertive than I would expect from myself, I told him to go back to his seat and give her the surprise.

Everyone at the table could feel that something big was about to happen.

He went over to her, gave a short and funny speech about data analysis (an inside joke we have) and then turned to her, pulled out a ring, and proposed. I was awe-struck. We all were. We all asked if it was going to happen in the moments before, but to actually see the proposal caught us all off guard. It was so raw, so unexpected.

I am so happy for them, and hopeful that their emotional closeness overcomes their geographical distance.

It made me start thinking about Wesley's wedding. And about Michael's. And about the fact that I am entering the part of my life where my friends and I will start getting married. This was the first proposal I have seen, but there are a lot more coming up. One day I might even be the one proposing! Tonight was a beautiful and romantic reality check.

Here is a photo of the happy couple, a few minutes before the proposal:

Epic Gospel concert

A few Sundays ago at LIC, I met four people that have become good friends: Akweley, Debbie, Eric, and Akourkor. They sing in the choir at church. I asked them, along with Collins, if they wanted to grab lunch together after church. They said they would (though it was clear that was not their first choice plan, but they wanted to show me hospitality by giving me their time). Despite my protests, they bought me waakye from the night market and we ate it at their house, which is beside Akuafo Hall.

While eating, they invited me to a gospel concert called Evolution 7. I accepted the invitation. As my entire experience would lead me to believe, I expected the concert to be around 3 hours.

It was over 6 hours long.

By the end of the concert I was so tired and hungry that I felt dizzy. It would have been the perfect time to feel the spirit.

On the drive to the concert, Akourkor and I were listening to some gospel music by some famous Ghanaian gospel musicians. As we were parking the car, one of the artists we had been listening to was parking beside us. I opened my door, walked up to him and told him it was a pleasure to see him and that we were just listening to his music. He said the pleasure was his. Only in Ghana.

Coming out of the concert, I was asked if I would be interviewed for TV. I said yes and they interviewed me. It would be the second time I was on Ghanaian television in a week!Today one of my classmates came up to me and told me she saw me on TV. I made it look like it was no big deal. ;)

In Canada, if a concert went on for 6 hours, I would be frustrated. I might even have left. Somehow, in Ghana, it is just like that. No one would have said that the concert would be that long, but I am sure that it was that long all seven years it has been happening. Time has a different meaning here. And I love adjusting to that. It has been a learning experience for me to just be, without knowing how long I will stay or what I will get from the experience. That kind of patience has rewards that are much different from the scheduled life I was living in Vancouver.

Heroes Remember performance night

Three of my favourite people from the show. The two men are the choreographers.

Taste. Such a funny guy. This smile perfectly represents his personality.

After the show, back at ISH.

A bit of unity before going on stage and shooting people...

My nickname in the drama department now is "Commander."

FACE pitcures.

A good example of how beautiful children in Ghana are.

Our hosts in George's village. The man in the centre is his father.

The well about a half mile from the village. This is where all of their clean water comes from. In the morning, kids fill up a 45 gallon water jug for their water for the day.

I was widely hailed as the "Obruni Azonto man."

In Antoa, we listened to old folk songs on the guitar as we ate yam, plantain, and kontomere stew. It was a magical moment.

Pics. Stories to come.

His way of carrying things from the market to home.

Being taught how to drum by some school children who have more rythm than I ever will.

Cameras are very popular in villages. Kids get so excited to see photos of themselves.

The single nicest beach I have ever walked on.

Foot ball in Mankoadze.

Kokrobite

This weekend I went and stayed at a beach resort called Big Milly's, at Kokrobite beach. It is a fairly touristy place, but doesn't give that gross feeling of being somewhere that was made for tourists.

We played football on the beach (my first time), swam in the ocean, and ate fried rice from a rasta man in a little wooden shack. Then I layed on the beach and read my book for a little while, listening to the waves crashing in. This kind of relaxation time has been less common than I hoped for. I am almost as busy here as I am in Canada.

At night, it was Reggae night and there was a live band playing really, really good reggae. I was so tired a felt drunk, which meant I didn't have to drink anything all night! I danced with a girl name Akosie, who grew up in Nigeria and had a great time teaching me how to dance to reggae music. I learned a lot actually, and she was super fun. I am still really bad a grinding...I am doubtful that will ever change.

I was hoping to go to bed at around 12, so I could wake up and watch the sunrise over the ocean. My bed, though, was right behind the band. No sleep for me. I was actually thankful, though, because the night was so enjoyable and it poured rain in the morning anyway.

At around 2:30am, I got hungry and so I went to buy some friend yam (imagine yam fries only about 5 times as thick). There group of guys hanging around the shop started talking with me and we ended up eating three bowls of yam fries. The poor woman making them for us looked so frustrated, because she kept having to make more and more as we stood there eating. They guys were so relaxed and it was so fun, probably the best part of the night. It was like making a Mcdonalds in Canada late at night after you have been drinking. It is just the best time to laugh, and the food tastes so much better than it actually is.

As we were eating the yam, a giant thunder and lightning storm started out over the ocean. It was so beautiful and scary to watch the intensity of that storm, and the waves became at least twice the size they were earlier. We went for a long walk along the beach, talking and watching the lightning. A dog followed us the whole way, occasionally wanting to play with our feet.

I woke up in the morning to gail-force winds and rain that felt like hail. I just stayed in bed and watched other people running around in it, enjoying the feeling. It was so fresh after it stopped, and everything was new and wet. It was a really nice way to end the weekend, and I got to see palm trees blowing like in a hurricane!

I met a really nice man named Eddy, who took me to eat Banku in the village we were near. He is a school teacher and told me that I could find a place in the village to live for two months and a school to teach at in June and July if that was how I wanted to spend that time. It is neat to think about. Living in a small village, close to Accra, on the beach, teaching at a primary school. Once in a lifetime experience. Anyway, Eddy was one of the most generous and inviting Ghanaian person I have met so far, and I feel very blessed to have met him.

Oh, and as for rehearsals for the show I am in, I was casted as the lead white guy, which means I have a dance solo...

Weekend in Volta

Monkeys jumped up on you!

or reached down to grab your food.

Wli falls. What you don't see is the walls covered in bats.

On top of the tallest mountain in Ghana (and maybe even West Africa) with my friend Antonio. You can see the Togo from the top.

Volta Region

This weekend we went to the Volta Region, the area to the east of the Volta River and the only area in Ghana that has mountains.

There were 10 of us, half Ghanaian, half international (most from Canada!) and we did the trip in a van - called a tro-tro. The roads outside of Accra are insane. There are as many speed bumps as potholes and there is no such thing as a passing lane (because that would mean people couldn't pass when going uphill around a corner...).

There are so many unfinished buildings in Ghana - brick buildings that are mostly built but have been abandoned. I asked our tour guide Elvis why they were there and he said they were projects that one government started, that the next government did not complete. There is a competition over who gets credit for things, so new governments cancel the previous governments' projects. Talk about wasted money and materials.

Our first stop in our trip was to Afadjato mountain, the tallest in West Africa. It is not big, compared to Vancouver mountains, but it was STEEP! There was never a point where we were not moving straight up, and because of the dirt and dried leaves, sliding down was always a realistic possibility. Our guide up the mountain was named Wisdom, and he did the mountain in flip-flops. He said he sometimes climbs it 5 times a day. I asked him if I could feel his leg muscles. They were literally solid - no fat at all.

We reached the peak and had a stunning 360 degree view. On one side we could see the village at the base of the mountain. The rest was just rainforest, like the kind you imagine or see in movies. Wisdom told us that we were looking at the Togolese border, we were that close to Togo. It is Harmattan season right now, so the sky was dusty. It made the whole experience feel even more mysterious and it kept the sun from melting us.

We descended the mountain (quickly, sliding from tree to tree) and walked through the maize field back to the village. We then went to the Wli waterfall, which is the most beautiful waterfall I have ever seen. It is tall, slim, and cold. There is a little pool at the base, and we swam out to it and stood under the fall. It was so refreshing, and so magical to be standing in Ghana, in a rainforest, under a waterfall.

When we finally got out of the water, I went and sat on a rock up on a ledge. I looked up and the sky was swarming with bats. Then I looked at the wall of the waterfall. It was covered in bats hanging and sleeping! There were hundreds, if not thousands of bats hanging on the wall or flying in the air. Then there was an outpouring of bats from caves in the wall and the sky was about half blotted out from all the bats in the sky. No noise, just thousands of bats. It was mesmerizing to sit there and watch them all, and a little unsettling. For some reason I have a fear of bats, and I could not help but think of what might happen if they all decided to dive-bomb me...

We stayed in Elvis' village for the night. It was unreal. In the back of his house, just down a hill was a stream full of frogs. They made a symphony of croaks, and it was loud! I had never heard so many frogs before. I stayed outside and listened to them while the others went back inside and then the voices and drums started. There was an all night prayer service happening somewhere not too far away, and their was music and dance mingled with the frog's symphony. I couldn't move, I just sat there and listened. Any of you who know me know that I am always like that when there is live music, but this was something different.

We had a campfire, and told stories to each other, the drumming and singing from the prayer service occasionally supporting our stories. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. The people we were with were characters, each their own. The night felt like a rendition of CATS; there was no story pulling it all together, just random moments of witnessing someone's character. The way each person shared felt very real to who they were.

The next morning, we ate tea (out of a bowl) and bread. It was somehow more delicious than tea or bread usually are. I think the whole weekend just made it so. Then we walked through Elvis' village, and met his family and friends. I don't know what to say about village life yet. It was beautiful, but I don't want to romanticize it. It was also very poor. People looked content, but I didn't have a chance to speak with any of them.

Our last stop was the monkey sanctuary. We pulled up to this little building, and the guy led us about 3 minutes into the forest and started making loud smootching sounds. All of a sudden, you could hear the trees rustling, and then a whole family of monkeys were surrounding us in the trees. We were all given a banana, and told to hold it in your hand. The monkeys would come up to you, reach out, peel the banana, and take the food. The harder you held on, the more they had to work for it, the longer it took them to get the banana. If you were really adventurous, you could stand a little farther away, and the monkeys would jump onto your arm to get it. They will only do this if you are not looking at them.

I was offering my banana to a monkey, then I turned my head to ask someone to take a photo when two monkeys jumped on my arm. One climbed up onto my shoulder, and the other grabbed the banana and left. I wasn't scared for even a second though. They were light, and gentle. They just took the banana and then left. It was funny, to have an experience like that so unexpectedly - it almost seemed anti-climatic, like it should have been more scary.

On the drive home, we were pulled over by the Ghana Road Inspection Police. They asked us to get out of the car, and they searched every single bag we had in the vehicle. Some people were really mad. For me, I felt annoyed at the situation. It was clear, from the beginning, that there was no valid reason for them to do this. They were hoping to get money from us. That is often the case with the police. They waste your time until you give a bribe to go. There was no respect from any of us in the group, but we have to obey what they say because they have large rifles in their backs. It is a frustrating mixture of fear and disrespect. Here, people don't listen to the police because they trust that they are looking out for them. It is the opposite. They listen to them because there is a legitimate fear of their power, and the knowledge that there are may not be the structures in place to prevent the abuse of that power. And that's what it is, and abuse of power.

We left, frustrated at them and out wasted time. Nothing could spoil the weekend though, so after venting about it, we all sat back and added it to the memorable moments of the weekend. Perfect people, perfect trip. Boom.

Say what..?

I am going to be a part of a national performance piece about a revolt that sparked the independence movement in Ghana. I will be one of the British soldiers that opens fire on the Ghanaian serviceman who did not receive what was promised them. I will be paid for the performance, and it will be aired on national television. The cast is over 40, with singing, poetry, dance, and music. It will be directed by one of Ghana's nationally recognized poets, and aired under the Independence Arch in downtown Accra on February 28th, the anniversary of the revolt. Nothing on this scale has ever been done in memory of this event.

Adam, I am asking the same question as you. How did I manage this?

My two favourite photos I have taken thus far

"Not very good" is a phrase I am using a lot...

Competitive soccer is intimidating to me because I have never played it before. It is even more intimidating in Africa, where your average player is at least 10 times as good as I am. It is seriously embarrassing sometimes to be in the game with them, and miss the most simple shot that they would have made with their eyes closed and in flip flops.

Today was the first training/practice for the ISH football team. I wanted to go, but I was also really scared. I was telling myself that I wouldn't be good enough, I have enough things to keep me busy, I won't fit in even if I join, etc. It started at 4. It was 4 and I still hadn't left my room. Feeling defeated, I went to sleep for 30 mins. I woke up at 4:45 to hear the group of players going to the field. I was still hesitating. Then I just decided that if you never try, you can never succeed and that the hardest part is always beginning. So I put my shoes on and went.

On the way, I talked to Ata who let me know that I am welcome on the team but may not play every game. He told me it is about what the team needs, not about being an all-star. He was just being polite, I know, but it was all I needed to feel comfortable. Practice was fun, I sweat a lot, and I did way better than I was expecting. Most importantly, I stayed committed to doing the crazy thing and putting myself in situations that are scary and intimidating to me. I feel strong

Oh, and did I mention my day started at 8:30 with a traditional dance class? Talk about putting yourself in situations where you are not naturally talented!

Another unexpectedly wonderful day

The theme for this day is "Things you would have missed out on if you didn't do the crazy thing."

I went to church this morning, after going out last night, and was tired and grumpy and hungry. Church went for over 2 and a half hours (which even by Ghanaian standards is a long service!) and I was really feeling the heat and humidity. I just wanted to go home, eat, and sleep.

Just before leaving, I bumped into a woman named Lesh from Botswana that I had met before. I didn't recognize her though. So awkward. So we had this awkward conversation where it was clear I just wanted to go back to my room, and she looked a little upset that she remembered me but I didn't remember her.

I went to the bathroom. When I finally started for home, she called me from a bus and told me the bus was going near my place and I should ride it with her. I did and we had the best conversation. She is 31 going on 32, the only Mutswana student on campus, and she loves salsa dancing. Our conversation was very real, and I felt immediately close to her. I think she will be a close friend of mine on this trip. I am really glad that she invited me to ride that bus.

As a result of the bus ride with Lesh, which took a long detour all around the campus and more than doubled the time it took me to get home, I did not have time to nap before I was supposed to go and meet a Ghanaian girl named Abigail.

Abigail and I danced together on my second night in Ghana. We really got along. We tried to dance together, I would not be able to follow what she was doing, then she would turn to me and tell me I was a terrible dancer, I would agree, and we would both laugh. I have never gotten a number from a girl at a club and actually called her before, but this was different. It wasn't sexually motivated on either side, we just had fun together.

We have been trying to meet since. But I wasn't sure it was a good idea. All the worst-case scenarios were running through my mind, I didn't know how to get to where she told me to meet her, I was alone, I was tired, and I am still unclear about cultural understandings of romantic relationships. I was literally standing at the edge of my building debating going back inside to sleep.

I did the crazy thing and went.

I asked people along the way for directions of how to get to Nungua, near Teshie, on the other side of the city. People here are so friendly, they always want to help you get where you are going. So I took the TroTros all the way to my destination.

Abigail met me at the bus stop, and we went to her Aunty's store - "Understanding Spot." A Spot in Ghana is like a pub in Canada. There were a bunch of men that hang around there every day, and I met all of them. One spoke French and we chatted in French (well, sort of - he actually didn't know much French...he kept saying couscous....wtf?!?!).

Abigail and I walked to the beach and talked about our families and our futures. She kept telling me I asked too many questions, but how else do you get to know someone?

She is Ghanaian, but was raised in Nigeria with her aunty for 13 years. She is the only child to her mother and father, but they both have kids with other partners. Abi doesn't know them. She wants to be a nurse. She wants to accomplish this before getting married, so that she is independent and does not have to rely on the man. I thought that was really great. She also can't swim.

We went back to her Aunty's spot both because it was starting to rain, and because the Ghanaian football match was starting. They were in the quarter finals in the African Cup of Nations tournament. All of Ghana is stoked about the tournament.

It was such a real moment. I was just sitting in a small bar, in a totally local part of Accra, watching football with a bunch of local regulars.

Ghana scored. Everyone jumped up and screamed. Tunisia scored. The room was silent. It went to overtime. Ghana scored. You could hear the screams and music in the surrounding streets. Abi's aunty took me about 6 blocks away and we danced with a group of Ghanaians, surrounding a group of drummers. A pack of little kids came up and were teaching me Asonto moves, and laughing at how bad I was. They were SO GOOD! It was kind of weird...

Then the game ended and the dance party became a parade, which I was then a part of. We skipped and danced down the street with horns and drums. Taxis were blowing their horns, and more and more people kept joining.

I had to get home though, so I left the parade, and hopped into a tro-tro. I was lucky to get on, as the crowd seemed to have the same idea as me. We were driving down the road, packed with people wearing Ghanaian flags, dancing and singing when - out of nowhere - a parade at least 5 times as large as the one I had been in poured onto the road in front of the tro. It came to a screeching halt. People were pounding on the sides of the vehicle as they danced by. It was actually really scary and intimidating, and I couldn't help but think what it would be like to be in a civil war or civil unrest.

On a brighter note, I realized that if Graham and James were with me, we would have jumped out of the tro at that moment and joined the dance party. No questions asked.

None of this day would have happened if I had given in to the tiredness and the reluctance. It was one of the best days I have had here so far. By myself. Off campus. Scary, but so worth it.

I love doing the crazy thing.

Tourists...

The classic beach photo (to compete with Kostee)

On the road to my hostel

Today was exactly what I needed to bounce me back from yesterday. I think that today could be considered an authentic cultural experience.

After hours of walking around registering for courses, Leon and I decided to go for food in the Bush Canteen, a small market on campus. On the way in, we met a shopkeeper who sells religious books. His name was Kwesi Mensah. Kwesi is the Ghanaian name for someone who is born on Sunday (all Ghanaian people have a name based on a day - mine is Kojo for Monday). Mensah is a traditional name found in Ghana, Togo, and Benin. Kwesi told us that if you met someone with the name Mensah, they were surely from one of those three countries. The book he wanted me to buy was written by a Ghanaian pastor named Mensah Otabil. Mensah is the name given to a family's third child (if it is male) and comes from the Twi word for three.

Kwesi knew all kinds of things about languages - Portugese, the various Ghanaian languages, Spanish, French, and some language in the Congo that starts with an 'L'. His wife is from Brazzaville, and she works for the UN in Ghana. He learned a lot of the things he knows about the world from a 4 month boat ride he took that went all over Western Africa, the Caribbean, and South America.

He spoke mostly with Leon, and I loved watching his gradual opening up. At first, he did not make much eye contact, but eventually he really opened up and enjoyed the conversation. I could tell we had made some kind of relationship when we finished the conversation in French. It was a great moment.

Then we went into the market where my friend Phebe had had her hair braided the day before. The 5 women there had been laughing at me as I tried to speak Twi with them, and they recognized me when I returned. They offered Leon and I a seat, and they started speaking Twi with us. They laughed a lot, and so did we. Then it started to pour rain, so I helped pull down the covers and we waited out the rain.

Anthony, the store owner, came out and offered to teach us Twi more formally, grabbed a pen and paper, and sat down with us. He taught us verbs, pronouns, and nouns. Tomorrow at noon we are going back to learn the pronunciations. He wouldn't accept any gifts or money; he just wants us to learn some Twi.

I really love the women at the store. They are so full of happy energy, and they work so hard while having fun. They are so open to me learning and doing things wrong. Today one of them laughed so hard at me she fell on the floor. But they are not intimidating - just totally welcoming.

Before the Twi lesson, I had given one of my juggling balls to a little kid in the market. He took off with it. I went to find him, so I could give him the other two to learn to juggle. Instead, we ended up hanging out with a group of 3 Ghanaian and 1 Nigerian men, juggling and talking. A few of them could juggle, the others tried, and we laughed and talked. One of them is an underground rapper, one is planning on going to the US to study, and the other owns a shop in the market. We talked about girls, marriage, love, money, careers. The real important stuff. The rapper told me that he was holding off getting a girl until he had found a way to make enough money. "Love without money is like tea without sugar. It just isn't as sweet" was his exact words about love in Ghana.

We stayed there for over an hour, until the sun had set. Then we ate dinner at the market. The whole dining area was dark, and was being illuminated by a few candles. I tried Fufu for the first time and loved it. The woman who served me was so nice and patient. She even taught me a few Twi phrases. Leon and I talked about sports, weaknesses, strengths, and fears.

To finish off the day, I helped Aunty Adelaide (our porter) haul some stuff from one room to another in my building. The whole day was just a normal day with Ghanaian people, doing what they do on a daily basis. It felt real, and relaxed. I think I learned more from today than I have yet. Though the obruni factor will never go away, and I will always be a tourist and foreigner, today was a nice glimpse of what it could feel like to be more normal and familiar in Ghana. ANd I loved it. Every single second.

For my papa

Golf things in the Accra mall

Only one club left. Must be popular. :)

Dad, I just wanted to show you some of the similarities between Ghana and Canada. They are different, but they are also similar. Even you could find something in Ghana (in the sports section in the corner of a supermarket).

International v. local

Today and yesterday have been tough days for me, or at least tougher than the rest. At the beginning of my time here, I really through my arms wide open and met everyone I could meet. Now I know a lot of people here, about half Ghanaian and half international students.

I made a firm commitment to myself that I wanted to learn as much about life in Ghana as possible, which for me means spending a lot of my time with Ghanaian people. It also happens to be much easier to spend a lot of time with other international students who are experiencing the same struggles and excitements as I am.

Unfortunately, cliques have started to form. Not in a malicious way, but Ghanaian students are hanging out with Ghanaian students, and international students are hanging out with other international students. I am caught in the middle, and I am feeling isolated and strung out. I was trying to spend time with everyone, but that is not possible. Now I am feeling forced to decide who to prioritize my time with, and the answer is obviously the Ghanaian students. That just means that there are a lot events I am missing as groups of 30 obrunis (white people) head off to the bar together.

I am happy to stay and visit with my new Ghanaian friends. Sometimes it is just hard to watch relationships form without you.

Car accident on our way to the beach

In Ghana, one of the cheapest forms of transportation is the 'tro-tro'. They are vans that cram full of people (literally full - with the person operating the door hanging out of the moving vehicle, or holding the sliding door shut). When the pull up they yell things like "krakrakrakra" which is actually 'accra accra accra' meaning they are going into the city, or 'circ circ circ' which means 'circle circle circle', a roundabout that is their endpoint.

Traffic in Accra is not like Canada at all. There are few police on the roads, and it is common practice for vehicles to get where they are going by any means necessary. So, if there is a vehcile trying to turn left in front of you, just drive around them. If there is backed up traffic on your side, but the oncoming traffic lane is empty, well...let's hope it stays empty.

The best taxi ride I have had yet, the driver literally only stopped moving the vehicle once and this was during rush hour. He drove on the wrong side of the road, he took shortcuts, he drove on the sidewalk, he drove through parking lots, he created lanes to get around people. It was insane. I asked him if there were a lot of accidents in Accra; he said yes. Considering the chaos on the roads here though, that number is so low. Driving in Canada is boring by comparison.

So today, we (we being 30 exchange students crammed on a bust meant for 20) were on our way to the beach when we were hit by a tro-tro. It just clipped our front light, but the incident resulted in a three hour detour. We stopped on the side of the road with the trotro driver and there was a big screaming match between the drivers. Almost everyone around the vehicles started joining in the debate, and it became a big community gathering, with people who had nothing to do with the event getting heated. It was so entertaining to watch.

After the debate, we were finally ready to leave (after about 45 minutes). As we started to pull back out into traffic, we realized we were missing one student. Ian had gone to the bathroom. A bunch of Ghanaian men who had seen him go came running up to us to tell us we had forgotten someone. We waited for what seemed like a long time, and then he came running toward the bus. We clapped and cheered and it was good fun...for us at least.

After another 2 hours of driving and waiting at the police station, we left for the beach. The beach was incredible. Like the ones you see in photos. Perfectly soft white sand, large rolling waves, blue skies, palm trees. I have never been in water that was so warm, so salty, and so powerful. One wave actually flipped me around under the water.

Not long after we arrived, it became obvious that a storm was coming toward us. It came so quickly, blowing the sand all over. A bunch of us jumped back in the water and were just in awe of the enormous black clouds and extra-giant waves that were coming in. It was one of those moments that make you feel so small, and yet so powerful to be next to something so large.

Then it rained. While we were under the shelter, a dance party with the locals erupted and we danced, ate, and listened to music. I dance all the time. I can't stop it. The music here is made to make you move.

The storm cleared, we rode the little boat back to our bus, and we went home. It was a great day of adventure. Not what I expected my day to be like, but that was what made it so enjoyable. I am constantly being reminded to go with the flow and love whatever comes my way.

Beach, Rastafari, and Baby

My Monday was packed with adventures. I can't blog about everything I do each day, because so much is happening!!!! But here is my Monday, at least.

Today a few friends and I went to Labadi Beach, one of the more tourist oriented beaches in Accra (and also one of the closest to the university, thus the cheapest to travel to). Luckily, there were few other people there, so we had the beach mostly to ourselves.

The beach is like the ones you see in travel photos - white sand, mini umbrellas on top of lounge chairs, palm trees...and so much garbage. It litters the beach and is in the water. As each wave comes in, it brings little bags and other trash with it, which all hit your legs as the water goes by. It is really unfortunate, because the beach is such a beautiful place. The beach is fairly representative of everything I have seen in Ghana up until this point. There is litter everywhere. I don't even notice it anymore. Somehow, though, it doesn't steal from the beauty that much.

Three Ghanaian guys came and sat with us on the beach and we started talking. Eventually, we all started working out together, doing an ab workout (thanks Veronica/Mom/Jillian). They were asking me to lead them through a workout, but they could do way more of everything I showed them. I was not surprised. All young Ghanaian men are ripped. Six packs and all. It makes Canada look really out of shape.

Then a man selling bracelets and necklaces came over to us, and we started talking about Rastafari, which was his religion. He said it began with Hallie Selassie. We talked about his spirituality for almost an hour. He believes that God is in everything. Religion, he said, was human confusion that breaks us apart, when we should all be connected as people. The difference in our skin colour was just skin colour. On the inside we are brothers. He looked deep into my eyes while he was talking to me, and I listened intently to everything he said. He was well educated about the world, and had a much different perspective than I am used to.

Right after he left, two women and a man from Kumasi came up to us and asked if they could drop off their bags with us while they swam. We said yes, so the woman unwrapped her baby from her chest and laid her down before running into the water. They left their baby with us! I just laid and stared at her. She was such a beautiful child, and the sun was very gently lighting up her face. She was sucking her thumb and she had her hair in many little bunches held with neon coloured elastics.

The parents grabbed one of the girls with us and took her down to the water to take photos with her, because she is an Obruni (a white person). The child woke up to see me and Dominique (another Canadian) and started crying and screaming and trying to back away from us as we awkwardly wondered if we should pick her up to calm her down. Akina came and grabbed her and brought her to the mother and she was just fine. She started sucking her thumb again as she laid in her mom's arms.

The two women and the man did not look me in the eye once the entire 30 mins they were near us, which I felt was very strange. I am still unsure about why.

Then tonight, I played my first football (soccer) match with the Ghanaian students here. I was to only Obruni on the team. They had low expectations, and I think I slightly exceeded them. Maybe. It was a great time though, and our team won three games. I sweat more than I have ever sweat Canada. It felt amazing.

First real update - Jan 21

Pictures won't be coming up until I spend a day where the internet is free. But I have taken a lot of beautiful and interesting ones - mostly of the different bathrooms here.

I was lucky to sit beside a Ghanaian man named James on the plane from Washington to Accra. He is a pastor and he told me a lot about life in Ghana, things to look out for, and things to try. It was a really great way to enter the country, and he gave me his contact info and told me he would take me to meet his family and show me the city. I was really appreciative, and he was very generous.

Then, while waiting for my bags (which took forever!) a really HUGE Ghanaian man invited me to Labadi beach and told me he would buy me a drink. He is a graduate student in America, but did his Undergrad in Ghana and is visiting for the first time in years. He was full of energy.

I had no idea how I would possible get to that beach, or back, or whether it was a good idea. I decided not to go. Instead I met a couple of year-long students at the residence and hung out with them for a while. They told me they were going to Reggae night at Tawale beach and invited me. A wise man once said "Always do the crazy thing." So I went.

I hadn't really slept in over 30 hours, but I went. I felt drunk just from my tiredness. Ghanaian taxis are not rider friendly. Meagan, you would hate it. They are fast, bumpy, swerving, honking, and they are almost always hitting people and other cars. But they always pull through safely. The cars are always junkers but it suits the whole atmosphere.

My first night was spent on a beautiful beach, with waves washing up on shore, live reggae music, lamb kebabs and Ghanaian beer. It was the best entry into a country I could have asked for.

Last night, we went for dinner at a restaurant that was quite classy. I ordered a 5GHC (about $4) meal, but it ended up costing 20GHC ($16) because I didn't know how to properly order. I don't even spend that much for a meal in Canada! I was shocked. My lunch was 75 cents; my dinner 16 dollars. Prices really vary.

Then the crazy-inclined went to club downtown, even though we had to wake up at 8am the next morning. The bar was similar to clubs in Canada, except that the calibre of dancing was WAY higher. I kept looking at people grinding and telling myself I would fail miserably if I tried. Then a Ghanaian girl and I started dancing. We tried to dance, but I am really bad and we would bump awkwardly into each other, stop, laugh, and then she told me multiple times "you are really bad at this!" I know I am! But the club was not judgemental at all, and we had a great time. I am learning the Azonto. Look it up, because it is awesome and really popular here.

Leaving the club at 3am, there was a young Ghanaian boy who followed us to the car, holding my arm and asking for money. The rest of the people just ignored him and told me not to look in his eyes. But I did. It was heartbreaking. It is tough to know how to react in those situations.

Right now I am sitting in a room, watching the African Cup of Nations football (soccer) tournament on the TV with a bunch of my new Ghanaian and international friends. The past few days have been too much to take in a truly process. I am loving my time here and am so happy to be living in the moment.

Miss you all.

Akwaaba! Akwaaba to my blog!

That means welcome in Twi. I learned 6 other words, but I don't know how they are written yet.

Oye (no)

Midase (thank you)

Atasein (what's up?)

chale (dude)

dabe (no!)

maypowcho (please)