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.
...
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
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.
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.
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