Ghana Day 20 -040112 - Celebrating and Reflecting

Ghana Day 20, 04/01/12

This experience volunteering in Ghana began with some eye-opening observations about how life here is different than the States.  Gradually, we acclimated, and the strange merged into the familiar.  The roads and streets everywhere are filled with goats and chickens, in the same way that one might find pigeons back home.  

Our first day, I couldn't take enough photos of people carrying and selling things from their heads.  In traffic, and heavy bulky items, A tray of 100 sunglasses, 25 kilos (60-ish pounds) of yams or plantains.  Water, juice, tissues, paint brushes, soda, sweat rags, baked goods, loaves of bread.  You name it, all right in your car window as you waited for the traffic light to change.  

As time passed, and our observations jaded, It became less noteworthy to notice carrying stuff on one's head, even practical, and the predictable availability of goods became a welcome convenience instead of a strange oddity.  Imagine having snacks brought to you in your car, in traffic, whenever the mood struck.  

The majority of our time was spent with our orphanage community of 34 kids, and the daily additional 90 school students, who became extended community for lunch.  Mornings (beginning at 6am) and evenings were spent with the resident kids, and after two weeks, they felt like family.  My wife, Penny, sometimes accuses me of being "Disney Dad" with our own kids, being the one to take them on special outings or bearing gifts.  One this trip, we brought an entire (49.5 lbs) suitcase of school materials, coloring books, puzzles, games and fun stuff like glow stick necklaces and candy bracelets.  We were able to allocate the distribution of these items over the time of our stay, so the kids had a fun sense of anticipation whenever we arrived. Had they been aware of who Disney was, we would have carried the label.

They loved the stuff, and we have videos of them breaking into song and dance the evening that we distributed the glow-sticks after sunset.  But our really cherished memories were from the little less remarkable moments when we were there to pitch in with chores, console someone with a scraped knee, or just hold them for unlimited free hugs.  

There were three of us, Penny, myself and our 18 year old friend, Hannah, from Australia.  We dispensed hugs nonstop all day long, and there was a tremendous feeling of love and welcome and human exuberance to have 30+ kids running at us with open arms upon every arrival.  Each of us had our own favorites, but the saying"each of us is a part of all of us" really applies.  Everyone did chores and brought their unique gifts to the mix and became a part of the fabric of this community.

 There were three staff women, Ma Lizzy, Acquaa and Ellen, who were the backbone staff of the orphanage, keeping everyone clean and fed.  Penny and I took on the mission, during our stay, of supporting these incredibly hard-working women.  This included kitchen chores, serving meals and a huge amount of dish washing and cleanup, especially for lunch for 125 with only 50 dishes.  We worked hard each day doing this for 6 hours in the blazing sun, and our reward was earning their respect during our brief stay.  

Many readers have asked if they can help to support the orphanage project, so we set up a webpage for the orphanage, fundraising for some of the recurring expenses like food, shelter and utilities.  We also have a donation page for several special projects like completing the toilet/shower building, classrooms and raising money for mattresses for the children.  You can find out more, and support the school with a contribution of any size at: WestAfricanSchool.org

The women in Ghana are tough and strong and hardened.  They cook and wash and go to market, and many sell their produce or wares for a few extra dollars a month.  It is amazing just how much hard work is involved in getting through one day.  Most everyone is up at 5am, and they don't retire until at least 10 or 11pm.  Life in Ghana involves a lot of physical work. During our first few days, we literally passed out at night from exhaustion, hard labor in the humidity and 90 degree heat.  It got easier, but we were still pretty wimpy in our efforts compared to the locals.

Every family in Ghana is descended from some tribal legacy and culture.  They each have particular dress, observances and practices as well as language nuances.  This is probably similar to the regional dialects that we have throughout the US, although probably more festive and colorful

For our last day of "work" at the orphanage, the full school had an "assembly" which was dedicated to us.  We were placed on honorary seats at the front of the group, and students and staff sang to us for about a half hour.  As the group continued to sing familiar songs, we were ushered away into a "changing room" within the house, and instructed to change into a colorful tribal dress and tunic that they had handmade for us.  After receiving last minute instructions on how to wear the non-intuitive dress, and after Penny had her hair wrapped in ceremonial cloth by our host, we reappeared as guests of the assembly.  The kids sang to us, we were presented with certificates of appreciation, and each child greeted us as they filed by in a queue (something that didn't occur without great effort).

 

We came a long way to drop ourselves into someone else's culture, and to try to discover a way that we could make some small contribution in time and labor and love. Mission accomplished. With a small donation that we were able to make, thanks to many generous friends at home, we saw the “groundbreaking” of a new building at the orphanage for toilets and showers. They are only about $500 away from completing this, so it seems likely that this will occur, with additional help, in the somewhat near future. We had the satisfaction of participating in daily routines that helped to shape the lives of these kids; feeding, bathing, and washing. Most of all, we brought a lot of human touch, love and caring to a small group of kids who have very small lives but big hopes and dreams.

Their surroundings are beyond minimal, they clear out the two classrooms to sleep on mats in the evening, 18 per room, sharing one toilet. They have no toys, but the benches and chairs and bowls and sticks that are around become forts and castles and goal posts and musical instruments that amuse and delight. For the two weeks that we were present, everyone's belly was filled with three meals a day. This wasn't always the case, but we were spared seeing them miss a meal, which happens more frequently than it should. It takes about $100 a day to deliver the 200 meals involved with the residents and the school. Parents pay for about $20 of this, the rest depends on donations. This is a new project, only nine months old, they don't have a stable flow of donations and resources are pretty low.I'm working with them to develop a simple webpage to tell their story, and to enable PayPal donations to a broader global audience.

The kids are clean, bathed twice daily, and relatively healthy. A few runny noses and kid coughs, but generally they are strong and vital and free from disease.. 

As you know, in the US, we are a society who have become dependent on our health care providers to dispense health, a practice that seems to discount the enormous power of our own bodies to heal. Effectively, none of the kids in our orphanage will have much interaction with the Ghanaian health care system unless something life threatening occurs. Home remedies, band aids, hugs and prayer are the primary prescriptions, and I have to say that, statistically, these kids are way healthier than any cross section of Americans that I've met. I remember that the late George Carlin used to do a routine about American's obsession with disinfecting everything. He stated that “ My friends and I used to swim in the Harlem River growing up, in pure, raw sewage. We built strong immune systems and never get sick.” 

 I'm going to go out on a limb and say that our experience in Ghana supports the assertion that the human body is a brilliant guardian of our own health, without much external intervention. We must just remember that it grows strong as we challenge it, and not be afraid to let our immune system constantly expand its internal dispensary of natural healing through exposure. From a distance, it seems absolutely ludicrous to try to create a bubble of artificial and expensive antibiotics around us, as we do in Western medicine, when each of us carries such a potent internal mechanism of natural defense, waiting to be challenged. Our kids in Ghana were extremely healthy without the “benefits” of much health care, and a tribute to the simple power of basic hygiene and liberal amounts of soap and (cold) water.

We wrapped up our stay by returning to the IVHQ (our program) volunteer center in Accra, and checked back in with the people who were our liaisons with the volunteer program.  We did some last minute shopping at the Cultural Center market, which included purchasing a hand made djembe drum which was carved and decorated as we waited.

There are many things that we liked about Ghana. Like any experience, even in our own neighborhood, life is a mixture of caring people, selfish and greedy people, and indifferent people. Time moves a bit slower in Ghana. The culture is inherently friendly and warm, but white people are singled out to be overcharged, walking wallets. It is hot and humid, although often a bit hazy; air conditioning is almost never present, except in the “Western places” (high end hotels, the Accra Mall, the Accra Shop Rite, and a few overpriced tour buses).

Ghana is a place where people spend most of their time interacting with others, and everyone is in the same boat, just trying to survive another day. Most people laugh a lot, are friendly and very very hospitable.

The Ghanaian currency, the Cedi, is slipping in value, making purchases even more favorable for people holding dollars. It lost 5% in value during our three week stay. But, those, often white, dollar holders, are marked to be overcharged, so it is best to find or hire a local person to negotiate in the local language on your behalf. Otherwise, the favorable currency exchange will be nullified by bad negotiating.

We were warned to arrive at the airport at least three hours prior to our departure back to the States, and found an hour after our scheduled departure, that our plane engine required repair due to it chewing a bird on the way over to Accra. We stayed an extra night in a nice air conditioned hotel with a pool, and just reset our expectations, Ghana style, to wait another day. Best to fly over the Atlantic with two good engines, yes?

I'd like to leave you with a few photos, that will linger with us for a lifetime, that made this crazy experience totally enriching and worthwhile.

As different as cultures and habits might try to make us, basically we all want the best for our children. We need the same essentials, food, water and shelter.  And we all have hopes and dreams that provide the momentum to overcome adversity and to clarify the next stop on our life journey.

Thanks for joining us on this trip.

Arnie and Penny Davidson (and Hannah)

E Hampton, Connecticut USA

Ghana Day 19 - 033112 - The Jews of Sefwi Wiawso

Day 19 033112 The Ghana Jews of Sefwi Wiawso

Arriving in Sefwi Wiawso

We originally planned a two week trip with our volunteer program, but we learned of something unique that caused us to extend our trip to enjoy an additional weekend Sabbath with a secluded Jewish community, located in the Western region, about a 12 hour ride from Accra where we are based. Through one of those beyond-coincidence exchanges with a friend in London, she told us of a small Jewish community, deep inland in Ghana, that was practicing Judaism. We found them on Facebook, and we were invited to stay at the home of their worship leader.

Here is their story. Our host, Joseph Armah, told us of two people in the area, about 40 years ago in 1972, who began questioning the prevailing idea of celebrating the Sabbath on a day other than Saturday, the seventh day of rest, as recounted in the story of Creation in Genesis. Guided by a personal vision of being a part of the lost tribes of Israel, they began re-establishing their identity as seventh day Shabbat worshipers, and also renouncing the idea of Jesus as the Messiah.

Now, there are two majority religions in Ghana, Christians and Moslems, although Ghana's public policy defends the rights of people to have freedom of worship. Jews are just underrepresented here, close to 0%. Every store front, taxi, bus and placard seems to have a religious, mostly Christian, spin to it. Challenging the fundamental premise of the majority religion was not going to be an easy task.

These two free thinking, new-Jews began refining and defining their identity as seventh-day Shabbat worshipers as well as non believers of Jesus as the Messiah. Through the village chief, they were given a public forum to express their ideas, (an earlier day version of public access TV) and very slowly, began to attract followers, one person at a time. After several years of doing this, keeping a low profile, but gaining momentum, there was a Christian attack on several lead members of this new movement. Through the judicial system, their right to practice freely, without fear, was affirmed.Presently they have about 60 active members, and their own synagogue building picture to the right.  They are also completing a guest house for visitors.

Walking forward with more certainty and confidence, but still treading lightly around their easily provoked neighbors, the Jewish group in Ghana grew, drawing members from a half dozen local towns and villages. They met and aligned with several benefactors in the US who supported them and helped them make connections with American and Israeli Jews. Recently, they have also also aligned with the vision of the Uganda Jews, who had established a vision for how African Jewry might play out.

During the past few years, supported by the efforts of Kulanu, this growing community began exporting beautiful handmade kippot (scullcaps) and Kente cloth tallesim (prayer shawls) to raise money for this community.

Last year the community received a donation of siddurim (prayer books) from a Conservative American synagogue (Sim Shalom, which sadly, had little Hebrew transliteration for these non-Hebrew readers). They have a continued influx of visitors from around the world. Last month, a French author stayed here, completing her research on African Jewish communities for her new book.

We were hosted in the home of the community leader, and graciously received. We had a Shabbat meal on Friday night, and at sunset, as Shabbat began, saying familiar prayers over the candles, wine and bread, as is done by Jews throughout the world. (The modification was that we used a bottle CocaCola instead of wine.)

On Shabbat morning, we walked down the road to their synagogue building, which is simple but beautiful, with 10 wooden pews, a wooden bimah (pulpit) and a small Sefer Torah (Torah scroll containing the Five Books of Moses handwritten on parchment in Hebrew). We used the donated prayer books and began the worship with a song proclaiming the Oneness of God in their native language of Sefwi. For our benefit, some English translation was included. We progressed through the morning service, largely reading in English, but reciting the Shema (central prayer affirming the oneness of God) and V'Ahavta in transliterated Hebrew. Men and women sat on separate side of the sanctuary, a tradition that I associate with more observant communities back home. I offered to read the Amidah (central community prayers) and to chant from the Torah scroll, which was accepted. I also had the opportunity to lead the closing Mourner's prayer in Hebrew, and later to teach one of my prayer based songs that invited everyone's participation.

The Torah was taken out (from a storage room on the side of the building) and was carried around for all members of the community to touch. The parasha (weekly reading from the Torah, synchronized with Jews around the world) was read and discussed in English, followed by a second translation into Sefwi, with a further discussion of the key ideas presented.

The service was delightful, and filled with participation, especially from the young children present who had recently received a series of Hebrew lessons from a visiting Israeli.

Our host indicated that they were exploring the original commandments from God in Torah, and slowly adapting their culture accordingly. From one who is familiar with the pretty well defined lines of observance between the various movement in American Jewry, their practices seemed a bit eclectic, but each ritual was embraced with a strong sense of purpose. As I mentioned earlier, some seem on the extreme side of observance (women are not permitted to worship during their menstrual cycle) while the worship service included only a taste of Hebrew (more reminiscent of Liberal/Reform observance).  No doubt it will evolve as new meaning is extracted from the original text of the Torah, and as visitors bring ideas from distant places of observances that have meaning.

Their spiritual leader is away this month, in Uganda, studying Hebrew to bring back to the community. They have identified this as a weak spot, as few have Hebrew reading or comprehension skills to pray in the sacred tongue. The Hebrew that they use has been taught by transliterating it into English phonetically.

This community is passionate about their central theme of observing Shabbat (Sabbath) on Saturday. I expect that they will continue to grow strong confidently and to open doors of communication with their Christian neighbors who are curious what the fuss is, attracting international guests to this small community in Sefwi Wiawso.

We brought five pounds of Passover matzah (unleavened bread) from the US to them, as well as several bottles of kosher wine for celebrating the Passover holiday next week. I left them recordings of some of my music, taught some familiar melodies, and recorded some of their music in their original Sefwi language. During Shabbat, we opened new doors of understanding between Jews in opposite parts of the world. And I gained respect for a new Jewish community that is finding its roots and defining its observance.

All in all, a beautiful Shabbat filled with dialog, prayer and most important, peace and rest. A most wonderful day.

Ghana Day 18 - 033012 - A B&B Oasis and Kente Weaving

Ghana Day 18 033012 – An Oasis and Kente Cloth

On our way to the final destination on our journey, a small Jewish community in Western Ghana known as Sefwi Wiawso, we treated ourselves to a bed and breakfast experience in busy Kumasi. You may know that Penny and I previously operated a Victorian B&B in East Haddam, Connecticut, so we try to visit these establishments whenever we can. They provide a unique and personal travel experience, allowing one to soak up the experience and perspective of the host family. It is a perfect way to get a fast track course on life in a new area.

This inn is run by a couple, Charity and Chris (and their assistant May). Chris is a quirky, articulate and knowledgeable retired Canadian teacher. His wife, Charity, is a native Ghanaian. They bring the best of Western influence in Africa. She is a gourmet cook and treated us to a welcome and delicious four course dinner, filled with fresh fruits, vegetables and curried chicken cooked with native flair. Their home is filled with hand loomed Kente cloth, which is still woven on wooden looms using traditional patterns. It is truly one of the most distinctive and beautiful crafts in all of Ghana.

We had the opportunity to visit a local weaver in our travels near the orphanage. It was a small roadside setup, covered with a tarp, and housing about eight Kente weavers, each at their looms, and each specializing in a particular traditional pattern. Above each weaver was a small flashlight, offering them the opportunity to continue into the late night hours with this tedious, repetitive work. The Kente cloth is produced in sections of about six inches wide and 4 feet long. To produce a shirt or dress, the sections are taken to a seamstress to be joined using hand stitching. 

The vibrant red, orange, and yellow colors, and triangular and lightning bolt shapes are amazingly beautiful. We were able to purchase a few of these “remnants” that we will treasure for a lifetime.

In Kumasi, at the 4 Villages Inn,we enjoyed a night on a super sized king bed, with overstuffed pillows, air conditioning, and a full bath. We opted for the four course dinner, which was one of the best meals that we have had anywhere, at any price.  As adaptable as we have been on our Ghana journey, it was difficult to leave this oasis of creature comforts. We give this B&B our unreserved, highest (former B&B owners) rating.  There was no detail that was missed by Chris and Charity to make this a perfect guest experience. 

We were indulged and spoiled.  The contrast became even more noticeable as we boarded a tro-tro filled with 22 people for the dusty 3+ hour journey to our next destination in Sefwi Wiawso.

Ghana Day 17 032912 The Road to Kumasi

Ghana Day 17 032912 The Road to Kumasi

As I write this, I'm sitting on a coach bus that represented to us that it was taking the fast direct road between the capital city of Accra to Kumasi. It is about a 200 mile journey, but takes 5 or 6 hours. I understood that a part of the delay was getting through the morning rush hour congestion in Accra. 

With that behind us, the direct road between these two cities of over one million residents each, is what looks like the early surveying phase, pre-surfacing, pre-paving effort of a highway road construction project. It is the kind of sandy, moderately cleared open space that would be fun in an ATV or mountain bike. You would never take anything less than a panzer tank or hummer on this road because your suspension and transmission would be toast in about six minutes. 

But, here we are, 30 captive passengers in wide, reclining first-class seats negotiating this mine field of blasted rock, small goat families and potholes, kicking up dust like John Wayne riding out of Dodge into the sunset. Our tires seem mostly bald. There is a scalloped purple and gray interior curtain surrounding the perimeter windows of this bus, making it feel a bit less like a passenger vehicle, and more like a Moslem worship shrine or altar of some sort. There is a 40 inch LCD panel TV in the front of the bus that still has some protective plastic wrap on it, hinting that it has not yet been energized for use. Instead, the well worn and slightly raspy PA speakers in the bus are blaring a local drive-time radio station, alternating English, the native language of Twi and some mostly Carribean music at about 80 decibels, just short of deafening, about the sound level of using a VitaMix and a blow dryer superimposed on the background noise of a commercial airliner at full speed and cruising altitude. I'd put our average speed at about 30 mph, which is starting to make this look like a full-day 7 hour trip. Then again, we often slow to a virtual stop, as the driver negotiates this passenger whale through potholes that rock the bus in a left-right rhythm that mimics the motion of rioters rocking a vehicle during a civil disturbance, prior to lighting it on fire.

No doubt, you've flown on a jet that passes through those big puffy cumulus clouds on its way up to 30,000 feet. For those brief moments, visibility is reduced to zero, as we place our trust in rnon-visual, adio navigation. That is the visibility level on this bus, passing through this lunar surface hell. A few nuances, though. The cloud that we pass through is the red dust excrement of excavation equipment .The roadside vegetation, formerly green, is covered with a red-brown dust. We've passed three, similarly sloganed “VIP” traveling lunar transport tabernacles that have not been as fortunate as us, grounded in the hot dusty roadside, with various engine and storage doors swung upward like solar panels to the Ghanaian sun. So far, our host's travel prayers for us this morning are holding firm. I spot a section of pavement ahead. Soon, the familiar whirr of rubber meeting the road will moderate the high energy DJ on the radio background noise. Our speed increases to over 40 mph. We are survivors, moving forward with stealth towards Kumasi. Our bed and breakfast experience awaits. Tomorrow, we will find our way to the small village of Sefwi Wiawso to visit an isolated Jewish community of 250 for the Sabbath.

By the way, Penny commented, in passing some of the incredibly dusty, open air "stores" along the way, that she now knew where all the tube TVs went. Watch out Best Buy!

Ghana Day 16 - 032812 Kakum and Cape Coast

Ghana Day 16, 032712 Kakum Canopy Walk – Cape Coast

We woke up early and met up with several other volunteers to make the short trip to Kakum, a rain forest national park area, and the beach at Cape Coast. The ride, via jam packed tro-tro (shared van) was hot and long and late and everything that we had come to equate with travel here, but in about three hours, we made the trip to Cape Coast, maybe 90 miles.

We hired a two taxis for the day, about $70 for 7 people, and set off to Kakum. This is a national park, not unlike those in the US. The attraction, however, is an amazing “canopy walk” through the tree branches of this protected rain forest. The walk was preceded by a rather aggressive climb through clearly cut paths that, to me, seemed endless. When our 10am group of about 100 reached the canopy walk entrance, we waited as groups of about a dozen were released. We decided to wait until the end of the line so that we had no pressure from other groups, nibbling at our heels, to move quickly.

There are seven canopy walk segments, each progressively longer and shakier than the previous. These are rope ladder type walkways that are stretched from tree to tree, with a platform at each supporting end. The base of the walkway is a rope ladder, with a series of aluminum ladders laid out on top of this. Above this is a series of 2x8 boards which give the rope some semblance of stability and a flat “solid” footing. So the canopy walk is done on a continuous sequence of 8 inch wide walkways. To each side of this is a woven net of sorts, that reaches up to about chest height, surrounding the walker. Below, is a drop of anywhere from 50 to 300 feet into the forest floor below. As you walk, the metal walkway ladders clang and sway as the walkers keep shifting the weight and center of gravity of the floating platform.

We discovered that one member of our group, a 20 something from Holland named Mario, had a fear of heights, so we coached and praised him through the experience. There are seven walkways, each progressively longer and less stable feeling, ranging from about 50 feet to over 350 feet. It was fun to do, exciting to reflect on where we were and what was around us, and we all celebrated the stability of solid ground, which took on a new value.Mario was rewarded with a cold beer for his bravery.

We later visited the museum and fortress at Cape Coast, the 400 year old coastal gateway for West African slave trade. Build by a revolving door of European interests, and continually refortified with bigger cannons and darker, gloomier holding areas for slaves, this fort contains the famous 'Door of no return” through which millions of slaves passed, bound for Brazil, the West Indies, Europe and America. It was interesting to note that local African tribes were also actively engaged in the business of selling their brethren in this shipping triangle between the Old and New World that unfortunately lasted for centuries. 

Ghana Day 15 - 032712 Trashed

Ghana Day 15 032612 Trashed

One dramatic difference between here and life in the States is a) the incredible amount of trash that we generate back home, and b) the lack of a means for disposal for what people throw out in Ghana.

Every day or so, back home, our family fills a kitchen trash bag full of paper and plastic stuff, plus another container of plastic and metal recyclables. Everything comes packaged, and some things are double-sealed, just for good measure. We have cereal boxes and juice containers, plastic bags from the supermarket and disposable foil. I really never stopped to think about it, it just was what we do. Once in Ghana, I realized that there was virtually no trash except for thin black plastic shopping bags (that everything comes in) and tons and tons of clear plastic water sacks, that are strewn everywhere.

The good news is that, in Ghana, most food is purchased in bulk, fresh, in its original form, unprocessed, and without any packaging. The decorative cartons that everything comes in back home in the States, seem particularly wasteful from this vantage point. The downside (sigh) is that the trash that Ghana does generated is more or less strewn everywhere. Our Australian friend, Hannah, was on a constant search for a “bin” to throw away trash, but it never surfaced, even in public places like beaches and tourist areas.

Since Ghanaian culture is derived from tribal roots that go back centuries, I had mistakenly presumed that some regard for the land and natural resources was inherent in their action, much like the Native Americans. I was wrong. As best as I can tell, there is no regard for the land, for natural resources, and only a local concern for trash management. This amounts to NIMBY (not in my backyard), keeping the stoop of each home swept clean, moving it into the surrounding road.

In our travels, we passed many logging trucks, carrying massive trees, with 20+ inch trunks that looked old and kind of like the California redwoods. There is little chance that these are being replanted.

We noticed that it is often overcast here in Ghana, and my suspicion is that part of this is a smog cloud generated from constantly burning the ever present plastic trash debris. It has been incredibly difficult to appreciate the inherent beauty of this country when it is strewn with litter. As I mentioned, neighborhoods do not seem to value having their collective area look nice, they just sweep off their own doorway.

On our fourth day here, I had accumulated about 20 used water packets in my pockets, backpack and shoulder bag. There was no apparent place to dispose of them, so I watched our host to see what the local custom was. When he was done drinking his water, he flipped the empty container to the side of the road, joining others that would be further consolidated into a trash heap and burned a during the week. Since there was no other means of disposal, I reluctantly followed suit, although it violated all of my sensibilities of environmental consciousness.

The black and clear plastic litter in Ghana is just a mess.

Ghana Day 14, 032612 Bucket showers and Pit Toilets

Day 14 032612 Bucket Showers and Pit Toilets

I'm still processing these two issues that more generally, relate to sanitation in Ghana. There are gradations of Westernized sanitation (flush toilets and showers), that initially seemed random until viewed as a modernization from the basics, bucket showers and pit toilets.

First, a word about sanitation here. The “sewers” are foot wide by foot deep troughs that run through the streets of Accra and cities, and that also weave their way into the residential neighborhoods. For the most part, these do their job, separating waste from everything else. Where they run into problems is in rare situations of flooding, where this stuff rises up and mixes with heavy rains to blanket an area in waste. Think Hurricane Katrina and the photos of contaminated water running through neighborhoods. Again, this is not usually a problem. We did see such flooding occurring in a TV news report in a large city while we were here. 12 died of cholera over last weekend in that mess. While that made the evening news, a secondary factor is that people here do not rush to a doctor or clinic when they are ill, in this case for antibiotics, so often conditions go untreated until they have become critical and life threatening. This is also a city where over a million people are jam packed.

Let's ease into this topic with the basic form of cleansing here, the bucket shower. Basically, one fills a 4 or 5 gallon bucket with water, from whatever source one has handy, and carries it to a space where you wet and soap and wash with pailfuls of water from the bucket. This couple of gallons becomes your shower allotment, so you learn quickly to allocate it wisely for adequate rinsing. The larger, “source” bucket is usually accompanied by a smaller pile for self-drenching, similar to one used on the beach as sand toys.

I mentioned earlier that water comes from various sources. The water available is for washing and showering, but not recommended for drinking as it sometimes contains bacteria and other pond water organisms that are not compatible with vibrant health. Sometimes, as was the case at our orphanage, we had to shlep (called “fetching”) buckets of water from a few hundred yards away, at a neighbors who had a water pipe outside their house. Some homes have outside “pipes” or wells. One other volunteer group had to carry their water almost a mile from an outlet near a local stream. Their trip included wading through a small swamp. Of course, many homes have internal plumbing.

Bucket showers can be done out in the open. Ghanaians are pretty comfortable with their bodies and things like showering or eliminating are just an open part of life in a way that we Westerners are not quite as easy going with. Many showers are done in an outside enclosure, or curtained area for privacy. Remember that it is nearly always 85 degrees here and rarely rains. One place that we visited had a small outbuilding that was like a changing room with a floor drain for bucket showers. It was conveniently located a few steps from the water pipe, making for a relatively easy process.

Many buildings and hostels have regular plumbing and showers, but most just offer cold water, although some of the plumbing fixtures were borrowed from Western designs, with a cold and (inoperative) hot faucet. The majority of these in-building showers were small rooms with floor drains and a wall water outlet (rather than a tub or stall shower that we might see in the States). A cold water shower on a hot day isn't really that bad. The water is closer to luke-warm, and the second that you stop showering, you begin sweating again.

Luxury hotels, of course, let everyone pretend that they are somewhere else, and mimic the hot/cold showers back home. We stayed at a magnificent bed and breakfast in Kumasi that had hot and cold water, a tub, air conditioning. It was owned by a Western couple who knew of such things.

Just as there are various comfort levels of showering, the toilets also come in various upgrades. As I said earlier, there are these sort of waste trenches that run everywhere. In the neighborhoods where we were volunteering, which was quite poor, it was pretty common for people to stop and pee when the mood struck them. This was done equally by boys and girls, men and women. Just a kind of matter-of-fact life moment that didn't phase anyone.

The basic toilet is a pit toilet, which is just a hole in the ground. Most are in some sort of outhouse enclosure, both to keep in odor and privacy, and to keep out the ever-present wandering animals, mostly goats. Such a toilet has a chair height wooden platform with a toilet-seat-shaped opening over the pit which is about 4 or 5 feet deep. I understand that these are pumped or cleaned in some way every year or so, and that paper waste is unwelcome. For this reason, there is a small box near the seat for any paper used. I am told that this is occasionally burned, when the container fills up.

Toilet paper is a decidedly foreign idea. There are vendors everywhere selling toilet paper in the marketplace. I think it is something new that is being marketed here. It is best to bring your own toilet paper since you never know where you might end up. In some of the poorer areas, I noticed that this paper waste receptacle included pieces of corrugated cardboard, newspaper, recycled flyers and torn pages from paperbacks, presumably the poorer written sections.

With indoor plumbing, flush toilets are pretty common, but the side bucket for paper (sometimes a waste basket next to the toilet) still prevails. I don't know enough about the plumbing and sewage systems to know if paper is a toilet clogging issue, but most places that we visited hadn't adapted to both flush toilets and a TP holder. The only advice that I can offer is, if you are accustomed to TP, best to bring your own. The local tribal customs reserve the left hand for this activity.

We visited a national park that had a modern restroom facility, down to the infrared, self-flushing toilets. One person in our party mentioned that a large school group, who was making a pit stop before their hike, had filled the bathroom, but that no one had thought to close the door of their stall. People are just more comfortable here, doing what we all do.

Ghana Day 13, 032512 Man's best friend, but not here

Ghana Day 13 032512 Man's Best Friend

Like many others reading this, if anyone is actually reading it, we have a pet. Our dog, is a retriever shepard mix, about 11 years old, and pretty much a member of the family. He is anxiously hungry for both food and attention, and he follows each family member around the house in case either happens to materialize in his favor.

In the Ghana neighborhood where we are staying, just outside of Kasoa, the area was filled with animals. Most were chickens, leading their young chicks around, families of goats and a dog every so often. We saw just two cats here in two weeks. One thing that we noticed is that these animals, although owned by families, are strictly outdoor animals and seemed to have to fend for themselves. Most had some visible war wounds, scars, limps, missing tails and the like. There was a rooster with a bad leg that greeted us loudly each morning, hopping across the roadside, around 6am as we walked to help with breakfast at our volunteer assignment.

One of our family of kids at the orphanage caught a bird flying through the school yard with his bare hands, and proceeded to show off his catch to the other children, holding the terrified bird by its wings. Eventually, he did let the bird go, and it flew off, but we got an inkling that maybe animal rights wasn't high up on the Ghanaian priority list. That observation was accurate. Animals, or what we might call pets, are basically potential food. There are no cute names for animals, and no concern for an intervening with an animal injury. A close friend is a veterinarian, and my daughter works for an animal emergency room back in Connecticut. They both work in a profession that assists families with the health care needs of their four legged family members. Neither business would thrive here. People here are struggling, day to day, to eat and get water and shelter. As I wrote above, animals are living walking potential food.

Our host family, in addition to running the orphanage/school, also raises chickens (broilers) which will be sold in the market when they are six months old. We found that this religious, compassionate man was incredibly caring and kind to his “birds”, however he was motivated by business and profit to care for his product, rather than kindness. That is just the way things are. He was unable to comprehend that, in the States, people spend extraordinary sums of money on pet health care, surgeries, and even cancer therapy. It just didn't culturally compute for him, and sounded like a terrible waste of resources and money.

This is a country with deep religious roots, both Christian and Moslim. Neither extends following God's word to include all of God's creatures, just humans.

We went to a zoo-like place that was a monkey preserve; run by a Dutch couple, who arrived in 2004 to care for animals. They purchased land and built up their business, fulfilling their life dream of working with and rescuing monkeys. They hadn't anticipated that monkeys were one of the food groups in Northern Ghana, and that the local population would be so unreceptive to helping animals. 

There are animals everywhere, but this is not a hospitable place for animal rights activists. 

Ghana Day 12 032412 Food in Ghana

Ghana Day 12 032412 Food

I don't know that I'm any kind of expert on food, and we've been living with local families in just the south region, but I'll share a few observations. About all that ai do know is that I like to eat, and enjoy spicy things.   I understand that there are some regional tribal dishes that differ throughout the country. There are a few basics.

Some staple foods here are yams, rice, potatoes, tomatoes, casava, beans and corn. These starches form the basis of most dishes, soups and stews. Yams are basically a sweet potato variant, and taste pretty familiar. The main new food that is inexpensive and plentiful here is casava. Casava is basically a white root, and it makes its appearance most often in either a ground, dried powder, or in a thick moist paste, sold in bulk. This has the consistency of bread dough, and one can find huge bowls of it in the (outdoor) marketplace, doled out in bags by the kilogram (2.2 pounds).

The fruits that are in season now are “po-po” (papaya), pineapple and bananas. All are flavorful, juicy and delicious. The bananas are smaller and have greener skins (even when ripe), making me suspicious that the ones in our supermarket are somehow cosmetically altered in some way. In a few months, mangos will be ripe. We experienced a great snack-food fruit, known as “yoy”, that was delicious and a mind-numbing eating process, like shelling peanuts or cracking pistachio shells. Yoy berries grow on a tree, and they are hard brown pods, about the size of a pecan. They are a bit furry and the shells are tender and split open easily. Inside is the fruit, which is has the texture of the fuzz on a ripe peach (but the size of a large raisin). In your mouth, it dissolves with a slightly tart flavor, hinting of raspberry. Apparently, it is one of those 'superfoods', rich in antioxidants, like pomegranate and acai. Inside the fruit is a small, very hard pit, with the texture of dental enamel. Look for it at your local Whole Foods in a year or so once someone discovers it and markets it to an upscale, health conscious market.

The overzealous dairy industry hasn't made inroads in Western Africa yet, so we are spared milk and cheese, for the most part. No “Got Mik” billboards here. I enjoy such stuff in my morning coffee, and the best that I could find is a can of condensed milk, with its characteristic caramel color. There is an ice cream (of sorts) sold frozen in a sealed bag, and consumed (like the “bottled” water) by biting off a corner of the plastic and squeezing it into your mouth like astronaut food. The ingredients reveal that it is also made from condensed milk, sugar and a bunch of oils and such. Tastes pretty good, especially if it is really cold and you are really hot. We had a peak at a small “farm” of around 40 bulls that lived a block or so from our residence home, behind a stockade fence. They were quite thin, and the first reference image that came to my mind was the Bible story of Joseph in Egypt, forecasting years of famine via his dream of 7 lean cattle. Like many people, and most wandering animals, these guys looked pretty hungry. From a different standpoint, these guys were one day going to become a very disappointingly small portion of steak. It is probably best that these folks don't go into the dairy farming business just yet.

Chickens (and their noisy rooster friends) and goats are pretty much everywhere. They do apparently “belong” to individuals, but they roam freely in the roads at all times. More on the broader issues of animals in Ghana later, but chicken and goat products are also a part of the local diet. Chicken is expensive (a whole “broiler”, sold live, is about $15), so it is used more as a garnish than a main dish. Many of the carb-loaded main dishes had a small protein token off to the side, such as a hard boiled egg, or small (buffalo-wing size) drumstick. These were prepared with delicious local spices, but I found them to be more work than meat. We saw chicken and goat, both live and ready to cook, in the marketplace. My antenna was up to avoid local foods, especially raw meat, that had been sitting in the 90 degree sun all day, so I can't comment on how these tasted. They didn't look too appetizing because of the flies, that kind of prismatic green sheen that older meat takes on, and the presentation, often decoratively placed behind a goat head. We'll just have to use our imagination about some things.

There is a local delicacy, known as grass-cutter, that I haven't yet had a chance to try. These are also sold live and one needs to go to a grasscutter farm to purchase them. They are a kind of rodent, rounder than a large rat. Again, it is supposed to be tasty, but I haven't yet had the opportunity to eat this under controlled conditions.

Lots of onions, green peppers and tomatoes in the mix. Lots of cayenne pepper for seasoning. And a ton of bright red palm oil in nearly everything. Palm oil, from my memory, is on the “Most Wanted List” of artery clogging, saturated oils. It is made from pounding and grinding these pretty nuts, about the size of chestnuts). One of our volunteer tasks, at our orphanage/school, is dishwashing, and we've come to despise palm oil because there is no known dtergrent or anionic solvent that we've yet found that really cuts through this stuff. It seems to leave a light residue on everything, not unlike dipping cookware in transmission fluid or gear oil. From that unscientific experience, I'll deduce that this stuff probably isn't that nurturing to blood vessels.

So, the dishes that we've come to love here are rice dishes called Redred and Joloff Rice. The former has onions and peppers and lots of seasoning, the latter is similarly spicy, but has a mild curry base. Redred is a classic dish, always served with companion fried plaintain (which looks like a banana and tastes like a sweet potato). Ghanaians are pretty serious about their deep frying, so these are quite heavy, but delicious in small doses.

Another classic set of local dishes involve a balled up starch, paired with some kind of soup. The starch might be fu-fu, a pounded casava ball, banku, a blend of casava and corn flour, similarly stirred and pounded into submission, or a rice ball (self explanatory). The soups are always spice, heavy on the red palm oil, and usually have some protein like fish or goat. These are “finger-food” dishes, eaten by hand with no silverware. One pinches off a piece of the starch, and dips it into the hot-oil soup, trying to sweep up a morsel of the soup solids on the way to your mouth. It is all swallowed whole, no chewing. Ghanaians like the social part of eating together, and these dishes are sometimes served “family style” with everyone dipping into a common large bowl. We were pleased (like in Israel) to see that hand washing usually prefaced a meal, with the difference being that Israelis wash both hands and Western Africans only wash their right hand, since it is the only one involved in eating.

The food is spicy, delicious and plentiful. For the most part, a real treat!