Christmas Eve in Winneba

Here are some pictures from December 23rd-24th. I went to Winneba which lies along the coast about an hour outside Accra. We stayed on the beach and stayed up late singing Christmas carols and drinking sangria. On Christmas Eve I woke up at 5:30 am to watch the sunrise. It was one of the most amazing experiences and peaceful times for reflection.

In the picture is two of my Ghanaian pals, Jamal and Black...and my house mate Caitlin.

More posts from Christmas and my trip to the Xofa Eco Villa to follow.

A Chaotic Christmas

Well this Christmas was definitely different. Apart from lack of snow and cool weather, I was also lacking a gaggle of family and friends at hand to make the season bright. I did do some unconventional things...well unconventional based on my traditions of Christmas to date. On Christmas Eve, I woke up on the beach in Winneba at 6 am and watched the sunrise. It was a very moving and spiritual thing to do around Christmas Day if you haven't tried it yet. After that moment of peace and solitude, Christmas Eve became very chaotic. We tro tro-ed back to Accra only to get stuck in mad Christmas shopping traffic. The girls and I had our own groceries to get and we managed to struggle our way through the city with our Christmas chickens and veggies. On Christmas Eve night, we ate pizza (not the usual tourtiere affair) and went to mass to see the Nativity and sing carols. I got home at 10 pm and made hot chocolate (if you can believe that I can actually drink hot chocolate in 30 degree weather) and watched a Christmas Carol (the old black and white version).

I woke up very late Christmas morning and made coffee while the girls stirred. If you can believe it, Santa even made his way to our small home (well if you call yours truly cutting out stockings from coloured paper and laying treats on them on the coffee table, Santa, then yes). When Caitlin got up we started to make brunch (a delicious strata with granola and yoghurt to start). We pumped Bing Crosby through the house and we were really getting into the spirit. Around 1 pm, Caitlin and I took a crate full of oranges to the Accra Psychiatric Hospital to distribute to the patients. Things were very quiet on the wards so we were happy to stir things up a little for them. We returned almost ready for a Christmas nap and then realized that we had to start preparing our feast. So yours truly starting rubbing down two chickens and preparing them for the oven. We were busy bustling around the kitchen for most of the afternoon leaving briefly so we could go put on our party dresses.

At 6:30, our boss was supposed to come over with his family for a visit. In true Ghana time, at 7:30 he shows up and tells us he's taking us to dinner. We pleaded that we were having guests over for dinner and had been cooking all afternoon but he insisted and said, "I've already told my girls you are coming", so how could we say "no"? We get back from dinner at 9:30, fire all our food back up and have a late dinner around 10:30! I was exhausted and couldn't believe the cross-cultural communication breakdown that made a calm and relaxing Christmas into a fiasco. When recounting the story now I laugh to myself and say, "only in Ghana".

I think I've learned a few things about Christmas this year that I don't think I could have learned had I not been away from home. In Ghana, the true meaning of Christmas is stark. Yes, there are Christmas trees, tacky tinsel garlands and carols being played everywhere but apart from that the fanfare from the West is eerily absent. This leaves you contemplating on what it actually is we are celebrating, the birth of Christ. People don't make a big deal out of the commercialized Christmas because some only have Jesus at Christmas. I think I've come to understand this a lot more during Christmas and throughout Advent this year.

However, I can't and won't deny that I missed some familiarities of home this Christmas. I think I missed the following the most:
- putting the angel on the Christmas tree
- mom's fruitcake
- standing in the stillness of a snowfall and watching big flakes fall as if time itself is slowing down
- sitting in front of the fire and warming my toes while reading a book
- lying under the Christmas tree while listening to the Carpenters Christmas album on vinyl
- going to church Christmas Eve and feeling the warmth of joy and celebration in the air
- picking family up from the airport (wearing one of my mother's many funny Christmas hats)
- jamming with friends (you know who you are) and eating homemade sweets

Hope all your Christmases were magical and joy-filled. I know this isn't spelled right but I wish you all an "Efishia Pa", which means Merry Christmas in Twi! Don't ask me to write "Happy New Year". Pictures to follow soon...

Merry Christmas

Well the day is almost here (in Ghana anyway) and I just want to take the opportunity to wish you all this, wherever you may be, whenever you may be reading this:

A very Merry Christmas to all of you and your loved ones! May the peace of God that comes from this night give you joy and happiness for the year ahead.

I am missing you all muchly and thinking of you all especially at this time.

much peace and love.

Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noel, Feliz Navidad!

Conflict of conscience

I’ve noticed during my time here that I’ve had to let a lot of things slide that I normally wouldn’t in Canada. As a student it was very easy for me to live a socially conscious life. I didn’t have a lot of money so I walked everywhere, didn’t eat much meat, reused whatever I could and bought locally from the farmer’s market instead of the overpriced fruits and veggies from A&P. This meant my footprint was relatively low. Before leaving home, I was deeply troubled by this style of living. Even in my interview for this internship, when asked what was my greatest challenge, at that moment I replied that it was battling with the daily conflicts in my conscience about whether I should drive my car or walk to the grocery store, kicking myself if I forgot to bring cloth bags to the grocery store, and if I couldn’t find fair trade coffee I wouldn’t have any coffee at all. I prayed deeply about these inner battles and asked that God grant me peace with myself. I knew if I kept up with this behaviour I was bound to disrespect someone or push everyone away from me.

In this regard, Ghana has been extremely beneficial and not because I threw out my footprint by flying here but I’ve realized here that some things are out of your control and that living consciously is as much as being aware of your decisions as acting on them. I’ll admit that I still bring my cloth bags to the market and try to conserve water and power in my house. However, I’ve had to buy bottled water here, even though on the most part I opt for the cheaper bagged water (I like supporting it because it provides drinking water options to the poor who cannot afford bottles). I’ve also drank Coca Cola products and Nestle coffee…something I would never be caught doing in Canada, and thrown out perfectly reusable plastic bags.

Ghana has allowed me to step back and take in the big picture. I could hardly refuse when Coca Cola offered to give HelpAge ten crates of drinks for an event we were having, where at home I would have told them ‘thanks, but no thanks’. I can hardly refuse overpriced bottled water when there are no other options and the heat is about to consume me entirely. Many people would find these decisions trivial but they plague me deeply. I often think that living a socially conscious life means every decision you make must be made in this light or you cannot be called truly socially conscious. It’s like saying that an environmentalist that throws out a plastic bottle instead of recycling it is not a true environmentalist. Or it’s like saying that a feminist that decides to be a house wife is not a true feminist. I think Ghana has taught me that the way we live does not need to be absolute. The point is to be working towards that perfection, and in my case trying to live a life that is pleasing in God’s eyes. I’ve always considered Jesus as a role model for social activism and in this regard I try to work towards living like Him. However, in this sense, I can hardly ever say that I’ll be perfect or even Jesus, so I should just try to live His teachings as much as I can and pray that He forgives me throwing my glass coca cola bottle in the trash can…after all at least I didn’t throw it in a gutter, right?

p.s. This entry was prompted by learning Canada’s recent decision to reject the emission targets for 2020 at the climate change summit in Bali. God help the US, Canada and Japan learn the error of their ways and hopefully change their minds.

Make Slavery History

This past weekend I went to Cape Coast and Elmina to see the slave forts. For the historians out there, you may recognize these names as two of the largest trading posts on the coast of West Africa. The most commonly traded commodity in this area was slaves, despite the fact that both castles lie on the Gold Coast (the Portuguese names Elmina, ‘the mine’ for this reason). I have already shared with you a little bit of what I felt when I visited the slave fort in Shama. However, that was a small fort and the experiences in Cape Coast and Elmina, although similar were much graver. Both castles lie within the hearts of Cape Coast and Elmina towns, whitewashed and ominous, looming over the sea. Yet, the environment and people that surround their somber walls are lively and breathe the freedom that their ancestors toiled for. Colourful fishing villages, bustling markets, children splashing in the sea, are signs that freedom and salvation reign where they were once only dreamed of.

The stories told inside the walls were not as bright as the exterior. The conditions of the slaves were unimaginable and we merely got a glimpse of what they endured day after day. They lived in dank, overcrowded and under-ventilated dungeons, with poor sanitation. The women were victims of rape by the guards and even the governors that resided at the forts. Men that tried to escape or resist the guards were condemned and left to die. Cape Coast castle was a major slave trading fort for the British while Elmina, first owned by the Portuguese was mostly managed by the Dutch and still exhibits the symbol of the Dutch West India Company. The disparity between the slaves and the merchants and governors living conditions was stark. It was haunting to walk through the dungeons, down the tunnels that led to the underground doors that led the slaves to the boats that left for the Americas. They call the door the ‘door of no return’ and they have been strewn with wreaths and messages by members of the Diaspora in the Americas remembering their ancestors. I cannot imagine what a slave would do at this door. Would they pray for their return? Would they cry from fear and anxiety? Or would they sing to keep hope?

Just inside the gates of Elmina castle the following words were etched on the wall which I think capture the feeling in the castle:

In everlasting memory of the anguish of our ancestors

May those who died rest in peace

May those who return find their roots

May humanity never again perpetrate such injustice against humanity

We the living vow to uphold this

Disgracefully, we have not managed to uphold this as many people around the world continue to be ‘enslaved’ and are sold, trafficked and compelled to do work against their will. I pray for those that were enslaved and those that are enslaved and pray that mercy will loose their chains. I pray that God will continue to create reconciliation between the African continent and the nations that perpetrated colonialism and slavery. As we commemorate the anniversary of the abolishment of the slave trade this year, we should also commit ourselves to not just let time heal our relationships with one another, but work actively to build trust and reciprocity across races, religions and cultures.

World AIDS Day

People from around the world recognize WAD with various activities, everything from protests to vigils, to remember those and speak out for those infected and affected by HIV/AIDS. In Accra, the Ghana AIDS commission culminated a week of activities with an awareness walk through the downtown core of the city. As the heat is so intense at this time of year, the walk began at 6 am and I regret that yours truly wasn’t up to the task to rise and shine for any cause at that hour. I did however recognize the day in what I hope isn’t a unique way. I underwent VCT (voluntary testing and counseling) and got myself tested for HIV.

My colleague Jody, has been volunteering with a VCT clinic in Accra and they were holding a VCT screening at a major internet café in the city. We wanted to support the initiative so I went with her and Caitlin. The VCT was a very simple set-up with one room, one counselor and one lab technician. I’m not sure what made me want to get tested but I think I did it as an advocacy tool to tell people that they shouldn’t be afraid or ashamed of the process. To get tested is a positive life choice. You can find out you’re positive and from that point take precautions to not infect others and take better care of yourself to avoid opportunistic infections. You can find out you’re negative and value the choices you have made and continue to make positive choices to avoid infection. The process of VCT is supposed to be empowering and to learn one’s status is not a death sentence.

I was happy to see that an organization was implementing a practical recognition apart from the advocacy walks and awareness gatherings for World AIDS Day. Although few people attended the session, those that did were made aware of the actions that may put them at risk of HIV and what it means to live positively with HIV. As we later learned, even of the few people that attended the screening, one was infected. Often times it is difficult to measure impact of such an event but to know that that one person can begin making positive choices in their life means that change is being made.

In sub-Saharan Africa, Ghana has a relatively low prevalence rate of HIV, however this leaves no room to be complacent. The most common concern is the stigma and discrimination that continues to arise in the communities. The theme of this year’s WAD in Ghana targeted leadership as the key area where stigma and discrimination could be reduced. In Ghana, this is precisely where the education needs to be coming from, the chiefs, priests, imams, and politicians that are held in such high esteem in the community. There is also a lot of misperceptions and misinformation about HIV and AIDS in Ghana and many people will look to their leaders for the facts and truth. They hold the power of effecting change and I pray that they will see the need to make HIV/AIDS a priority.

Photo: Caitlin and I at the Society for Women and AIDS in Africa Gala at the Canadian High Commission (I think we were trying to experiment with the night settings on my camera)

Monkeying Around in the Shai Hills

Just north of Accra, in the Shai Hills there’s a small forest reserve that is home to colonies of baboons and some chimpanzees. There are also many antelope, snakes and bird colonies within the reserve. The Shai people used to inhabit the land before they were ousted by the government in the late 1950s. They now reside in the neighbouring communities but return every year for annual rituals and sacrifice. Our guide told us that the sacrifice used to be human but assured us this was not practiced anymore. We were relieved to see the remains of a goat’s skull which we were told was this year’s sacrifice.

The old chief’s palace is located in the reserve in a cave set on a rocky hill. The cave houses many bats! We went right into the cave and had to squeeze between two rocks to see the bats. The guide told us that when the tribe was being attacked the women and children would hide in behind the rocks for protection. The guide also pointed out vines that the tribe would use to keep a lookout on any potential invaders. At the base of the hill were two large Baobab trees. I’ve always wondered why the Baobab tree holds such high esteem among African vegetation. Turns out, the tree has medicinal bark and leaves and can even retain water! I told the guide that it sounds like the tree of life and he agreed. Every year, when the Shai people return they place a cloth around the tree to indicate that they were here. Apparently there is a cloth for every year dating back to the 1800s.

We were lucky enough to get in the 4x4 of a Japanese tourist from Honda with his Ghanaian colleague. They even drove us to the next town called Akosombo where Ghana’s major dam is located. We were able to enter the dam site and had a guide tour us and tell us all the intricacies of the dam. The dam sits where the Volta River meets Lake Volta. Ghanaians depend greatly on this body of water for food, power and livelihoods. It was a cool feeling to stand on the dam between the lake and the river and have an exceptional view of both sides.

The pictures are of some baboons that were very friendly (for no other reason than the fact we were feeding them plantain chips) from the forest reserve, the chief’s palace in the bat cave (sorry, no pictures of bats, I didn’t want to disturb them), and the Akosombo Dam.

African Football Fever!

For those that know me I’ve never been much of a fan for football or as we Canadians would call it “soccer”, so if you saw me a few Wednesdays ago draped in a Ghanaian flag and yelling curses at a Beninois goalie you might not have recognized me. In preparation for the African Cup of Nations, which begins in Accra come January, the Black Stars held a four-country tournament two weeks ago to test out their newly renovated stadium. I went to the gold game between Ghana and Benin, who are unfortunately called the Squirrels (not a very intimidating team name if you ask me, although ask any resident of the Queen’s ghetto and they might beg to differ). The stadium wasn’t filled to capacity but there was enough cheering, music and support to fill the empty seats. Ghanaians are definitely proud of their footballers and show their support by wearing flags, blowing trumpets, and even running through the stands bare bottomed (avert your eyes ladies!). The most enthusiastic are the National Supporters Union groups that take up full sections and chant, sing gospel and dance in sync. The atmosphere was definitely colourful and exciting. They say that visitors to Ghana should see three things, a wedding, a funeral and a football match. These events are definite windows into true Ghanaian culture.

The crowd was anxious for the first half where Benin managed to score twice on Ghana and the Black Stars were unable to reciprocate by the end of the first half. However, in true valiant nature, the Black Stars sprung back in the second half and managed to win the game and ultimately the tourney with a 4-2 victory. I think it was necessary to have some prep for the African Cup of Nations in January which will attract millions of viewers and spectators to three cities in Ghana. Ghana has a good chance of taking away the Cup this year, or maybe this is just a biased optimism coming through. After all, what do I know about African football? I really only know two Black Stars names, Stephen Appiah and Michael Essien (who Chelsea fans will know), who seem to be well loved by their fellow compatriots. But I guess you have to start somewhere, right? I know all the hard core football fans out there will be watching the Cup closely so I’ll be sure to keep my blog updated on the scores.

Go Black Stars Go!

Some photos to keep you sated...

So I'm getting harassed to make some posts and regret that I came all the way to the cafe to realize I hadn't loaded any of my blogs on my pen drive. Yikes! I will do so this afternoon and hopefully have some up by the end of the day. Until then, for those of you checking often, here are some photos to keep you interested. Stay tuned for blogs on African football, World AIDS Day, urban bias and much more! Wow am I trying to sell this thing or what?

On a side note, I was walking to work today and heard the Christmas Song blaring in the streets. A little strange to hear "folks dressed up like Eskimos" when I'm sweating buckets and sweltering under the sun. Hope all my Canadian family and friends are enjoying the snow...

The pictures are from Independence Square in Accra and Bojo Beach where I went last Sunday. Does the picture of yours truly remind anyone of an LL Bean ad or what?

Developing Trust

Two recent incidents in Ghana recently have disturbed me deeply. Both incidents have me thinking about the importance of trust in cross-cultural relations and how this plays a role in development. Last week I heard a story of a British consultant that molested a three year old Ghanaian girl. The man was with his Ghanaian colleague and the colleague left his daughter with the man, who than proceeded to molest her. The only way the father knew was because the girl was bleeding profusely when he returned. The situation enraged me because that little girl’s life will be changed forever by that one moment. I cannot imagine what is going through the mind of her father but I can only imagine that he will find it very difficult to work with foreign colleagues or develop any sort of trust with them, which is a major detriment to creating meaningful cross-cultural relationships.

The second incident also involving a British man, this one a 63-year old photographer, was with a 19-year old Ghanaian boy. The man and the boy met online and the man said he was coming to Ghana on business and would visit the boy. The boy picked the man up from the airport and brought the man to his family, who he introduced to them as his pen pal. The two then traveled to Cape Coast and Kakum NP where at each location, the man sodomized the boy, took illicit photographs and videotaped the two in indecent acts. The man was caught at the airport where he was suspected of smuggling drugs but instead was found to have indecent photographs and videos. Both the man and the boy, because he was of age, were arrested and are awaiting trial.

I do not want to know what possesses people to perform such acts. I’m sure they do not realize that their actions have repercussions far beyond themselves and their victims. These incidents weaken any trust that has been established between Ghana and foreign countries. In a culture where the history of cross-cultural abuse is so strong, because of the slave trade, the role of trust in development here is crucial. For those people that are trying to develop an environment of reciprocity and trust, there work will be overshadowed by these bad incidents. The position of foreigners working in development is already so fragile because ultimately the goal is for a country to realize its own potential without the inputs or conditions of outside sources.

This also raises questions of sustainability that is also so important to development. I’ve even noticed that my boss prefers to do things himself that could easily be shared by myself and Jody. We’ve often wondered why he doesn’t choose to share his burden with us and we’ve realized that it’s probably because he knows we are leaving in a few months and will have to do it himself then anyhow. He thinks that the work we do will be unsustainable and is trying to protect the interests of his organization and its beneficiaries. Meanwhile, Jody and I sit and wonder what it is that we can do and question whether our presence here is having any real impact.

Ant Attack!

When you go to Africa people worry you about large predatory animals like lions and well not tigers and not bears but a slough of other horrifying creatures like snakes and large venomous insects. However, no one ever really addresses the fact that the biggest pest and most aggressive is the ANT! Yes, my life has been taken over by tiny little insects that bite at my feet, invade my desk, bathroom and kitchen and generally cause much anxiety. I can’t seem to get rid of them and they torment me like they know that they can get to me and take pride in it. The only thing I can say that I’ve found mildly fascinating about them is the sheer masses they travel in and the teamwork they employ to move things. I’ve seen full size moths, like the one in this picture and cockroaches being carried away by an assembly line of ants, up walls and around objects.

There have been two horrifying experiences with them to date. I woke up one morning and went to do the bathroom to do my business. I was still in a daze from sleep and I’m sure my eyes were only half open. When I went to reach for the toilet paper the entire roll and holder was covered with ants. I then noticed that the entire wall to the right of the toilet was covered in ants scurrying and traveling in chaos. I freaked and ran from the bathroom. Not having any Raid in the house I had to fend them off with a bottle of Deep Woods and a shoe. The second experience was one morning in the office. The previous night I was sitting at the table playing cards and someone looked over my shoulder and said, “Oh my God!” I freaked thinking thinking it was an army of ants to find out that she was merely noticing that a glass of water was about to spill off the edge of the table. So the next morning, my nerves already shot from thinking that ants are out to get me, my colleague Jody is talking to me and all of a sudden says, “Oh my God,” while looking over my shoulder. Is she referring to a glass of water? No…I turn to find out that my fear is not unfounded because a thousand ants were rushing around in a pile on the window sill behind my head. Aack! The office was a little more prepared than our house and we watched on as Ebenezer attacked the colony with Raid.

Most people would say I shouldn’t complain about such a trivial insect such as an ant, but I am and will continue to as long as they’re around. The other issue is that the only remedy or way to keep them at bay is with Raid. My immune system is already severely compromised because of the level of pollution in Accra and subjecting my system to the chemicals inside Raid is not helping the matter. I would use a home remedy like lemons but I don’t think I’d be able to buy enough. Another point of worry is that mango season is dawning and that means more ants because they thrive on the sweet nectar of the mango trees. I pray that God will grant me the patience to deal with these creatures.

Fieldwork in Shama

s

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to accompany Ebenezer, my boss, and Jody, the Project Officer, to a cornmill project that HelpAge supports in a village called Shama, in western region. We only went for the night and returned to Accra on a Friday afternoon. I should precede this with saying that the last couple of weeks at HelpAge have been somewhat discouraging. I am constantly reminded by my work that the organization has little money and there are currently few projects being administered because of the lack of funding. As such, I went with the hope that we would be able to see one of the projects that HelpAge supports in action and it might give us a renewed hope in the organization. This was however not to be the case, as currently the corn mill is broken, something attributed to a bad fuse and faulty wiring in the shop. Unfortunately, a part of me was thinking that this didn’t come as a surprise which I hope means I’m not losing hope altogether.

The building containing the cornmill was a wooden shed and alongside another building was in the midst of being constructed with a strong concrete foundation. The structure would house a kitchen and store room so the older women in the community could begin a small corn processing business for their village. I learned from Ebenezer that the building was yet to be finished because they had run out of resources to add windows, the floor, doors and a veranda. World Granny, who is the major donor for the project, contributed $500 to the completion of the building which was half of what the estimated budget called for. Although the money will help them get closer to realizing the full potential of the project, it falls short of allowing the grannies from seeing the project come to fruition any time soon.

I was also hoping that I would have had an opportunity to speak to the grannies and see what they thought about the project but most of the talking was done between the community contact, who is a headmistress in Shama, and Ebenezer. The women were Fente so it was even difficult to ask Nat, the driver who speaks Ga and Twi to translate what I wanted to ask them. It didn’t feel like the women really had a part in the project, apart from bringing their corn to the mill. I was reassured that the women would be taking care of the books and running the kitchen and store room but it felt like there was a lack of integration of the grannies into the planning and implementation of the project. However, I can hardly make an accurate assessment from just one glance at the community and the project, but I was getting this gut reaction nonetheless.

My hope is that HelpAge will be able to raise the funds necessary to complete the building and get the project running successfully. Or else, I might have to do my own a-maze-ing fundraising to get this thing going…hmm.

We had some time before we had to leave Shama and head back to the capital so Ebenezer decided to take us to the fort in Shama, Fort St Sebastian. The fort was first built by the Portuguese and changed hands several times before being used by the British during the slave trade. The walk through the grounds was haunting and it was not long before an uncomfortable pit formed in my stomach. When speaking about slavery, it is often hard to know what to say, especially as a descendant of British ancestry. Even now, I’m not sure how to express what I was feeling. We talked about the fates of slaves and the lasting effect that slavery has had on African development. The situation really allowed the reality of it to sink in. Ghanaians are so proud of triumphing slavery and colonialism, and have managed to keep a good relationship with the oppressors of the slave trade. They take full responsibility of the role that even their own people played in selling their people to the trade. The history of Ghana is so rich and diverse and I could feel it seep under my skin on that day in Shama. My next stop will be Cape Coast and Elmina where the larger slave forts are located.

p.s. In the pictures are some of the grannies from the cornmill project and chains from the slave fort in Shama.

Much needed update!

Hi all,
I feel I owe all my readers an apology for the severe lack of posting lately. I know there are no excuses but my internet cafe by my house is having severe technical difficulties, won't accept my pen drive and generally takes forever to upload pictures. So in an effort to keep you aware of my whereabouts I've come to another cafe to bring you all up to speed. I have many blogs on my pen drive that I've written and hope to post soon as well as some amazing pictures. I hope the suspense doesn't kill you.

In the meantime I will list some of the things I've been thinking and doing in no particular order:

- Work has been slow...and the work environment is lacking energy and motivation. I'm trying to be patient and find ways to work around this but it's been challenging. Currently I am working on compiling a profile of local grant institutions and donors and a 2-year fundraising plan for HelpAge. I am also hoping to compile and carry through a public awareness survey on HelpAge Ghana and issues of ageing in Ghana with the intent of improving advocacy and awareness activities.

- I celebrated Halloween in a weird and bizarre turn of events. I went as a prairie girl which many would mistake as a cowgirl...

- I went to the launch of World AIDS Day. I heard the Vice President speak and the President's adviser on AIDS and infectious diseases. The Ghana AIDS Commission showed a documentary on the theme this year which is Leadership, reducing stigma and discrimination. If the Commission can follow through with this theme some real impact could be made especially coming from leaders in the country, such as government, religious leaders, chiefs, etc. Also heard a Ghanaian rap artist PRAYE sing a song about World AIDS Day during which I saw the Vice President catch a yawn.

- Went to a charity concert for the flood victims in the north. I got to listen to John Legend's sweet voice which was an experience...and heard reggae star Luciano...the night was good but having to get escorted into the grounds by armed soldiers because of security reasons made us question why we went in the first place.

- Went to a wedding this weekend for one of the members of HelpAge's daughters. The ceremony was fairly contemporary. I was at an engagement party a few weeks ago that incorporates more cultural traditions. At the engagement party representatives from the groom's family presents gifts to a representative of the bride's family who has to accept the gift. Each gift holds a special significance, like a watch to symbolize time, a Ghanaian stool to signify that when we marry we come to sit and stay. I didn't know the bride or groom so it felt a little awkward to be there but I was grateful for the experience nonetheless.

So much more to say so I promise to write again soon...

Peace!

A Weekend Away

Last week, while rummaging through the shelves at the office I came across a book of Ghanaian poetry. Beneath one of the poems was the following Ashanti proverb:

If the wind brings you a gift, put a stone on it.

Well I can say that the weekend before last the wind brought me the gift of fresh air and adventure. Instead of putting a stone on it, I put my hiking shoes on it. This past weekend was a long weekend in Ghana because of Eid al fitr, so we all got Monday off from work. On Sunday, I took a mini bus with three other Canadians to Aburi, where the botanical gardens are north of Accra. We had heard about mountain bike rentals outside the gardens and decided it might be fun to take a jaunt through the hills on bikes. So we got geared up with bikes and a guide named Julius with a Barbie helmet and set off on a two hour trail through the Akuapem Hills. I’ll admit it has been some time since I last went mountain biking and the terrain was fairly easy to maneuver. I think when the guide meant, “some biking experience necessary”, he really meant, “experience with downhill, water, ruts and rocks necessary!” Nonetheless we managed to complete the trail despite our sore bottoms and sweaty complexions. The ride itself was pretty exhilarating…I can now say I’ve biked through an orange grove, gushing streams, a cocoa farm and small mountain village where all the villagers were in the same dress for a funeral. We even stopped to taste some of the cocoa beans which were sweet and refreshing. I’ll be honest and tell you that many of the hills at the end I walked from sheer exhaustion. At the end of our journey, fresh pineapple and cold water awaited us. We spent the night in Aburi gardens at a guest house. We definitely slept well that night!

The next morning we woke up at 7 am so we could catch an early ride to the falls. We caught a taxi that wielded through the mountain roads to a village called Adukrom, there we bought some bread and caught a trotro to Nkurakan. The road to Nkurakan was beautiful, amazing views and winding roads through dense and lush trees. It was market day in Nkurakan and the streets were packed with farmers and hawkers. We caught a taxi from the market to the falls, which were just outside the village. We were wise to get up so early that morning and beat the holiday travelers to the falls. When we arrived the park was empty. We rented a guide, named Samuel, to take us on a hike south of the falls. We were all grateful to be walking the trail that day, rather than on bikes! The trail started out from the park to grassy plains with more breathtaking views of the hills. However, we were soon winding down a jungle path deep into the forest. The trees were dense and the smells and sounds of the forest were all around us. We walked through a cave, across a ravine and up a steep slope of rocks. When we emerged from the trail, up above was a massive rock shaped like an umbrella. We climbed up to it and our guide told us to rest in the shade of the rock where the breeze was strong. He called it his natural A/C. Three of us paid 30Gp to climb a rickety bamboo ladder to the top of the rock and took pictures of the view. We were pretty freaked by the ladder but managed to ascend and descend safely. By the time we walked back to the park more people had arrived. We walked down the steps to the falls and took a dip in the edge of the pool where it was safe. The recent heavy rains have made the falls extremely strong and it’s hard to believe that at some point during the year the water dries up completely! We ate waakye (pronounced “wah-che), which is essentially beans and rice cooked together before making the trek back to Accra. It took three hours to get back passing through Nkurakan and then Koforidua.

The weekend was such a blessing because I’ve been so anxious to escape the city limits of Accra, smell fresh air and experience the peace and beauty of the countryside. I have never been so grateful to be experiencing God’s Creation at its finest. If more wind brings weekends like that my way I’ll be sure to have my stones ready.

Technical Difficulties

I am currently experiencing some technical difficulties with my laptop and pen drive. There is a suspected virus on my pen drive. Most likely, from inserting it into the computers at the internet cafe. Fortunately, my friend Godfre, who works for the Value-added Tax Service in Ghana, is knowledgeable in the virus department as he's been networking and setting up anti-virus programs on all the VAT computers. He'll be looking at my laptop and pen drive next week when I get back from the field. I'll be leaving for Shama tomorrow to visit HelpAge Ghana's corn mill project that's funded by World Granny.

So please bear with me and stay tuned. I have many stories and pictures to post of recent events and adventures, which include a scrap-booking workshop with older people, mountain biking in the Akuapem Hills, swimming in the Boti Falls and taking a small reflection at the half way point of my journey here. I can hardly believe I've reach that point, but it is fast approaching.

Hope you are all happy and well!

Diary of Help Age Week

As promised, here is a detailed account of Help Age Week (emphasis on detailed and for that I apologize).

Wednesday, September 26^th, 2007 - ENT Screening (Osu Day Centre)

Specialists from the ENT department of the Korle Bu Teaching Hospital in Accra came to the Day Centre in Osu to give a free ENT screening to older persons. The team consisted of three doctors and four nurses and saw around 75 older people in the span of two hours. Seven people with suspected ENT problems were chosen to attend the screening from Help Age Ghana’s zones. My official role at this event, and what became my official role for the entire week was that of photographer. For those that know me, I always enjoy taking on this role and was more than happy to flutter about the program with two cameras (or should I call them beauties) strapped to my back. However, on that day I learned about one of the many complexities of being a photographer. I was asked to take pictures for Help Age Ghana that would tell a story and as much as I could have taken dear pictures of older people as they waited that’s not where the story was. The story was in the examination room where the doctors were meeting with the older people. Therefore I was forced to strike a balance between doctor-patient confidentiality and capturing the real significance of the day. A photograph can be something very invasive and personal for the subject and I am learning to respect that of the people I want to photograph.
Although the screening itself was free, one of the doctor’s made a remark that day that also resonated with me. I was inside the examination room after carefully asking an older person whether it was okay to take his picture while he was talking to the doctor. One of the doctor’s, after filling out a prescription form, was asking whether the older people were having to pay for their own prescriptions or whether the NGO was covering these expenses. Seeing as I was the only member of the NGO present at the time, the question fell on me to answer and I had to reply with the very hard answer of “no”. I knew there was no money for Help Age Ghana to pay such expenses but it had me thinking about how free the screening actually was and if the older people would even bother with the prescription if they couldn’t even pay for it.

Saturday, September 29^th, 2007 - Sponsored Walk (Osu Neighbourhood)

I woke up this morning at 5 am. In Canada I would never have scheduled an event, let alone a walk to begin at such an ungodly hour but with heat and busy roads as an obstacle this hour seemed to be our safest bet. The walk began at the day centre where we arrived around 7:30 after picking things from the office. Already some older people, were waiting in their Help Age Ghana t-shirts and traditional batik cloth.
People started to slowly file in as the Help Age staff started flitting about making last minute preparations, installing a mic on the van, prepping Jody to make announcements from the road, stocking the van with water and first aid supplies, etc. The participants for the walk included older people and their families from Help Age zones in the city, members of the Sankofa Leo’s Club, staff from Help Age, and social work students from the University of Ghana. The latter were the most eager and energetic of all. When they arrived as a bus load, my worries that there wouldn’t be enough numbers or noise for our walk were lessened. As soon as they stepped off the bus, they started mingling with the older people, some of the girls taking compacts from their purses and applying make-up to the women. The president of the Social Work Students Association, Seth, came to greet me and I expressed how pleased we were for them to join us and he looked at me reassuringly and said they were here to help us out.
The walk got under way shortly after 9 am and we began marching through the streets of Osu with the Help Age Van as our leader. People carried placards displaying messages about ageing. Many began dancing rather than walking and the dearest was the students that took the hand of an older person to help them along. My role as official photographer meant I was walking up and down the walk shooting and mingling with people. I also had to get to the van to fill my back pack with water so I could hand that out to the participants as we went along. With Jody talking about ageing from the loudspeaker on the van, music playing, people singing, and students handing out pamphlets with information on ageing issues we were making noise and hopefully getting a message across to the local community.

Sunday, September 30^th, 2007 - Thanksgiving Service (Legon Anglican Church)

This morning we loaded the Help Age van with older people and headed to Legon Anglican Church on the campus of the University of Ghana. The service started at 7:30 so we were up early again in order to make the trek across the city. If the church wasn’t so far from my new place I would be frequenting it every week, not only because the atmosphere is welcoming but because the view of the Akwapim Hills from the church is breathtaking. I was at this church the week before but arrived rather late, from not knowing which time the service started. This time we were still tardy but with good reason, it’s not easy to mobilize a large group of older people into vans after feeding them a breakfast of bitter cocoa and pastries.
The readings for the week which included the parable of Lazarus and the Rich man were fitting to remind us that God requires us to care for those less fortunate than ourselves. The Reverend Stephen Adjei gave a sermon drawing parallels between the parable and the need to care for older people, especially those marginalized and impoverished in society. A basic message that somehow gets lost among believers.
The Mother’s Union graciously served the older people refreshments and catered snacks after service. If any group of women can get people inspired and fired up about something, it’s the Anglican Church’s Mother’s Union. My experience with these exceptional women in Canada and abroad has always been positive. I applaud them for bringing to light the situations of marginalized people in their communities and encouraging, if not prodding, their congregations to take action. I am currently writing an article for an Anglican newspaper in Ontario, called the Dialogue and I promise to post it when it’s published.

Monday, October 1^st, 2007 - UN Day for Older Persons (Accra Psychiatric Hospital)

The week culminated with a social program at the Accra Psychiatric Hospital. This event was a mixture of official dignitary business to commemorate the day along with a social celebration for older people from the communities and from the geriatric wards of the hospital. One of the highlights of the day was seeing the Minister of Manpower, Youth & Employment dance with some of the older ladies to high-life. I never quite understood why the Minister of Manpower & Youth is responsible for policy on older persons, seeing as neither older persons are youth nor working. However, the department of social welfare somehow falls under this ministry and older people most definitely are a matter of social welfare. Anyway, the Minister Mr. Nana Akomeah, before breaking out the dance move, gave the keynote address for the day. He addressed the lack of a national policy on ageing and promised those in attendance that he would make the push to put the policy before cabinet once more for consideration.
The location of the celebration was strategic on the part of Help Age Ghana, because we wanted to highlight the plight of forgotten older people, in this case, those suffering from mental illness and abandoned by their families as well as society. Older people from the community were asked to bring oranges to share with the patients from the geriatric wards and during the day, we went to the wards so that the older people could share the cooked meal, refreshments, oranges and other gifts with the elderly. This was another difficult photo taking opportunity. I would have liked nothing more than to expose the conditions inside these wards so that the public could realize what living conditions those suffering from mental illness are subjected to but I was torn by how far I could go. Unlike the other events, where I could simply ask the subject for permission, I would never know how genuine the response of these men and women would be or whether they would even make sense. It’s an interesting debate for non-governmental work, because organizations want to account for their work with a form of photographic representation but how far is too far? Photography can say too much or too little, it can expose what’s hidden or hide what needs to be exposed depending on the angle taken. I think NGOs can never be too careful with who they photograph at the cost of exploiting who they are photographing. My dream job has always been to be a professional photographer for National Geographic but I don’t think I could live with this inner struggle every time my finger went to the shutter release.

All in all the week's events were a success, despite the fact that many of the preparations were started too late and the coordinator of the week's events was none other than yours truly who has little knowledge of how to seek sponsorship or book venues, etc in a foreign country. I even had to swallow my pride and seek sponsorship from Coca Cola for one of our events. I think I was ultimately amazed at how the week did unfold and the staff have definitely taken things into consideration to improve next year's Help Age Week.

For your viewing pleasure

Photographs from events to commemorate the International Day of Older Persons. I will post a mini-diary soon with more detailed accounts of what happened at these events. Stay tuned!

Have you Hugged an Older Person Today?

HAPPY UN DAY FOR OLDER PERSONS!

I have made it to the end of a week's worth of celebrations and events to commemorate the United Nations Day for Older Persons which occurs annually on October 1st. At Help Age Ghana, we spent the week highlighting the challenges of ageing in Ghana through the media and an awareness walk on Saturday. We held other events that I will write about soon. I want to upload some pictures with my stories so that you can all get a full picture of what happened. All I will say now is that this last week has been one of my highlights so far of my time here in Ghana. Perhaps this has been because we've been spending so much time with the elderly this past week and they bring a smile to my face whenever we meet. They are so dear and vibrant...more lively than even some youth I know. I can only hope that I will be as blessed as they are to live a long life and be as joyful and thankful of my life as they are when I reach that age.

Please call your grandmother, grandfather, great aunts and uncles, or any special older person in your life today and tell them that you love them, that you recognize the contributions they made to let you live the life you do, that you value the traditional knowledge that makes our culture so special and that you value who they are becasue as my colleague Francisca would say, "they were one life you, and you will one day be like them".

The Power is yours!

This amazing revelation came to me a couple of weeks ago but I somehow forgot to post anything about it. Anyway I was talking to my friend Kofi one night and he looked at my hand and said about my ring, "what power are you wearing tonight?". I asked him what he meant and he said that I was wearing a Planeteer ring and I must be wind because the ring was white. I looked at him in utter shock and said, "YOU watch Captain Planet" and then together we broke out into song singing the theme song and shouting the powers. Then he tells me that one of the Planeteers is Ghanaian!? Yes, Earth is Ghanaian, his name is Kwame, which is Ashanti for being born on a Saturday. Kwame was also the name of the first President of Ghana, Kwame Nkrumah. Apparently he used to watch it growing up all the time. I was so happy and we continued to make Planeteer jokes and sing the song all night much to our friends' disapproval. Who would've thought...a cross-cultural moment over Captain Planet...just beautiful!

Signed, Sealed, Delivered...

...and it's mine! I am thankful today for mail. They are little rays of sunshine in my days and I cherish them so much. God Bless Nicki, Susan and Mom for sending me letters and cards these last couple of weeks. And God Bless Megan for sending me a care package with chocolate covered coffee beans, natural soap and corn nuts...you really know me too well. I received this bundle of joy today. You are my shining star...

Hearing from all of you is an enormous source of support, whether through email, facebook, text messages and mail. I promise to reciprocate and I've found the most beautiful handmade cards so I hope I can get some messages to many of you over the next couple of months.

Nyame eye! (God is good!)

Making the right move...

Sorry for the overload of entries but I need to get a bunch of my chest that I wrote these last couple of weeks and haven’t had the opportunity to post because of work and moving…speaking of which…

I’ve moved! After two months in the suburb of East Legon, my roomies and I have moved to Osu, just a mere two blocks from our office. We’ve wanted to move for some time now, but were in circumstances, which did not permit us to move. The main road out of Accra, towards Legon (where we used to live) is two lanes and goes down to one just before our exit. So often times it would take hours to get home. Many of the tro tros would make grand detours through the back roads just to avoid the congestion. We’ve also had to come into work late and leave early so we could avoid traffic, meaning we’ve been working shorter days. We are now able to walk to the office and everything else we need is close by or a short tro tro ride away.

Caitlin and I are sharing a two-bedroom apartment and Jody is upstairs in a single. The apartment complex sits in a compound with small cottages around the perimeter. Everyone that lives there is a foreigner and so far we are mainly comprised of Germans, Dutch, Danes, Canadians and one American. It has been interesting getting know everybody and learning from each other about our experiences. Another bonus about this place is there will always be someone close by to travel with on the weekend or someone to have dinner with should you find yourself home alone. We are also a short walk from the Irish pub and the live music bar Bywel’s (not that that’s what sold the place to us…you all know me better than that…wink, wink)

These last couple of weeks have had many highs and lows. I managed to get out of the city last weekend, which was a high. As the pictures show I visited a beautiful beach called Kokrobite. I bought some batik cloth from a Rasta on the beach from Togo. Even after speaking in French with him I still couldn’t manage to barter properly. I also required some more batik this weekend at the major market in downtown Accra, called Makola. I’ll be getting a dress made from the fabric and will probably have some left over for another piece.

Last Sunday, the girls and I went to the Botanical Gardens in Aburi. We left in late afternoon and spent a few hours there before the grounds closed. We realized we were going to be heading home in the dark which had us on guard. We had taken two tro tros to get there and new we would have to stop in a town called Madina to transfer to another one. Unfortunately as we were getting from one tro tro to the other, we came across a drunk man that wanted to show us what tro to take and was trying to take our hands and guide us. When our tro tro came, a lot of people were rushing it to get one. The drunk man pushed Jody into the tro tro, seemingly trying to help her. However, after we’d driven off we realized that he had slit her bag open with a switchblade and taken her camera and phone. The experience was shocking and disturbing. We’ve been so careful with our bags and keeping our guard up, but still something like this happens. Fortunately for us we have the most amazing boss, Ebenezer, who came to our aid. He brought us to the police station, which I knew would yield little results. The best scenario they could offer us would be to stage the theft again and hope that the man would come to us and attempt his next move. I would never have considered such a situation, but in Ghana when there is no trust in the authorities, the public takes justice into their own hands. The police do not discourage this behaviour either because they know people want justice and they lack capacity or are too overwhelmed to be able to respond to such thefts.

The incident has reminded all of us of how blessed we are. We were protected that night from much worse, if the man had been knocked from behind, who knows where that blade would have ended up. We are also reminded that we are vulnerable in this country and it requires constant vigilance and awareness of our surroundings. I know Jody is still struggling with the loss. She had memory cards in her camera case with some irreplaceable photos on them. I think we are all determined to move forward from the situation though, as I wouldn’t want the incident to mar our experience or image of Ghana.

p.s. Had a special Canadian moment at kareoke the other night. A Ghanaian man got up to sing "Ironic" of all songs. To our surprise, the whole bar started singing with him and everyone was just screaming the lyrics. It was surreal. I'd much rather have Ghanaians rock out to Alanis than to Nickelback which unfortunately surfaced later in the night.

Morning commute

I think I’m having some strange nostalgia for my morning commute from East Legon to Osu since moving two blocks from my office this past week. I’m not sure why the thought of sitting in traffic, with diesel billowing around me while being squished between two people should excite me but there something about my morning and evening commute from the quiet streets of East Legon to my office in Osu that I really enjoyed.

I left the guest house at 8:30 every morning. We used to leave earlier but after much trial and error found 8:30 to be less busy and catching the tro much easier. I walked down the short unpaved road called Dakar Ave, although it would never be described as such because no one cares for street names in Ghana. As I walk this short distance I greet school children in uniform and men and women carrying things on their head or talking on cell phones. When I reached the main road I crossed the street minding the meandering tro tros and vehicles come from all directions. I stood and watched for a tro tro to come my way and for the mate that hangs his head from the side window announcing which direction he is heading. I look for a mate that makes a circular motion with his hand, yelling “soy-cul, soy-cul, soy-cul” which really means “circle, circle, circle”. I repeat this action so the mate knows to stop and pick me up. This tro will go all the way to Nkrumah Circle but I will get off half way at “37” to transfer to another tro to Osu.

The tro pulls away and joins the rest of the traffic. More often then not, the driver takes a detour from the main road to avoid traffic before joining the main road that adjoins the Liberation highway. I hand the mate 30 Gp…about 25 cents as the driver hurtles through eroded road ways, over numerous bumps and trenches. We make our way towards the highway and the tro slows down while cars attempt to merge on to the highway. Men selling gum and newspaper walk up and down the small aisles between the vehicles. When we reach the highway, the tro makes a stop to pick up more passengers. Then we pick up speed and a cool breeze comes in through the windows. The traffic is only light momentarily. At every traffic light, women selling papaya, doughnuts and water walk between the cars, yelling out their wares. I am amazed at their skill. A young woman can run alongside a tro tro in flip flops with 10 L of water in sachets on her head in a bowl with her hand outstretched making a transaction of water for 4 pesewas.

We reach one the major tro tro hubs, “37” and I get off. I have to cross the highway at this point which is often a challenge, even at the crosswalks. When I cross I walk along the sidewalk where stalls are opening up for the day. They sell everything you could need. Shoes, clothes, cosmetics, radios, fish, food…and most importantly peanut brittle (so delicious). I cross another street to catch a tro tro heading to Osu. I pay a similar price, only 25 pesewas. I sit with other men and women on their way to work and I wonder who they are and what they do. I don’t have to get off until the last stop so I can sit and gaze out the window at the morning activity on Oxford Street. I arrive at work about an hour after I leave East Legon and walk the short distance from the stop to the office.

Don’t ask me why I fancied this time, but I think it's because it was a good time to be left with your thoughts. There is a certain rhythmic pattern to it that I can control from one day to the next, especially when I can never know what to expect at work. It’s almost like commuting in Toronto on the subway, the lull and sway of the subway. Just as I knew every morning I would be standing on the subway with a coffee in one hand and crossword in the other, do I know that I’ll be sitting on a tro wiping sweat from my brow and greeting the morning in Ghana.

p.s. Some of you may remember that I took a short jaunt to Victoria in early May. I was at Environmental Justice Camp hosted by the Anglican Church of Canada’s eco-justice committee and the diocese of British Columbia. Here is an article I wrote about the camp and some of the issues we discussed during that week. http://www.ontario.anglican.ca/docs/dialogue/September%202007.pdf

The article appears in the September issue of the Dialogue, the newspaper of the Anglican Diocese of Ontario.

Tribute to Harry Potter

I don’t know why I became so attached to the Harry Potter series the way I did. Perhaps, it was because they came out when I was making a transition from child to adult and not really wanting to grow up, I was clinging to those magical things that only a child’s innocence can experience. Perhaps it was because, like Harry, I have a scar on my forehead although mine looks something more like the profile of a bobby pin than a lightning bolt. Nonetheless, I felt an attachment to Harry, something I’m sure all of you that have read the series have experienced as well. Over the last decade, we have gotten to know the characters so well and we’ve become so involved in the story.

I just finished reading the last book. I left Canada, three days before the book was released and believe you me I was thinking of calling my travel agent to postpone my flight, just so I could get my fingers on a copy. A little bit of something died when I turned that last page, the end of a journey that I’ve shared with so many people. For all of you who know me, the following won’t surprise you. I sat down to read the end of the book a few nights ago, curled up on my couch with a cup of cocoa. I had been racing through the book not only because it was hard to put down but I had to get the copy I borrowed back to its owner before she flew home to Ireland. Anyway I was sitting there and at one point my eyes welled up and I could hardly see the page anymore. I blurted out, “I’m such a sap!” while my housemate Caitlin, not realizing that I had been crying thought something had happened to me. I started laughing and crying and couldn’t control it (maybe I’ll attribute some of that to the heat). Anyway I settled back with some Kleenex and continued reading to the end.

My family and friends are already aware of how much of a geek I am for this sort of thing. So this tribute should not come as a surprise. I want to take the opportunity to thank those people that made reading the Harry Potter series a memorable experience.

To Sarah - for being the best night nurse there is, wiping my brow with a cold cloth and reading Harry Potter to me in a small cabin at Camp Hyanto when I was delirious with a fever of 102 in 2001

To my sister Tracey - for buying me glow-in-the-dark Harry Potter pajamas when everyone else thought I was too old for such things

To mom - for buying me all the books in hardcover because you wanted to make sure they would last for my children to read and for coming to the movies with me even though you hadn’t read the books yourself

To Val - for imparting in me the importance of storytelling and the parallels that run through the Harry Potter story and the story of our faith, and for letting us turn a church into Hogwarts

To the youth of St James - for laughing at me when I walked around dressed like Aragog with eight legs dangling from my sides and for humoring the interns when we turned a church into Hogwarts and made you make potion, read tea leaves, and perform charms.

To Ariana - for pronouncing Hermione as Her-moine, and for letting me drag you to the fifth Harry Potter movie before I left for Ghana

To my fuzzy buddy - who gave me a light up Harry Potter wand that I still have with me today and actually brought to the last movie with me

To J.K. Rowling - thank you for listening to your imagination on that train from Manchester to London, for letting the world remember what it is like to be a kid and for telling such a poignant story of good vs. evil that would make the likes of C.S. Lewis and J.R. Tolkien proud