For over a month now, my mother has told me I should be expecting a package. In Ghana how the postal system works is that all packages (unless very small) are delivered to the main head quarters in Accra. You receive a slip of paper with your name on it and a list of a few items that your package contains.
Well I have yet to receive a package slip for a package that arrived March 9th, so I asked for the tracking number. Thus I went off to the central post office 45 minutes away from campus by tro-tro. When I arrived I had to wait a good 10 minutes before I even get acknowledged as human. The people that run the place are very cold and quite rude. However, I have taken many a trips there and have made my friends. It was not till I saw my older gentlemen friend and lady who loves to speak fluid sentences at me in Twi and I have no idea what she is saying. (Just to understand it wasn’t until I spoke Twi and complimented her a gazillion times that she even turned her twisted face into half a smile… but at least I can say we aren’t enemies.)
Anyways, the only lady I could remember her name (Auntie Caroline) was making herself look quite busy with some paper work. I greeted her and said “Auntie Caroline, How are you?!?” with which she responded … “How do you know my name, who told you?”
I informed her we had met before and she continued with her paperwork for another 10 minutes before listening to what I needed. When I finally told her that I did NOT receive a package slip and that I had the tracking number she informed me that her book with the tracking numbers and locations was accidentally left behind at home. She had brought it home to work on and forgot.
A brief interruption: I forgot to mention a key-role in my trip to the post office. I traveled with my friend Theresa and the porter or lady at the front desk of my dorm. The porters name is Peggy who is a single mother of two in her mid 40’s with the sweetest demeanor ever. However, I learned on this day that Peggy has a hot, fiery, and not-afraid-to –tell-someone-what’s-what attitude.
Continuation …
I was informed that because she did NOT bring her book with her that there was NOTHING she could do to locate my package and that I would have to come back tomorrow. I was upset but realized that it is Ghana and things don’t work the same as back home and as much as it would suck to go back, I would just have to do that. WELL…. Peggy didn’t like that ONE bit.
Peggy was soo upset. (It is very common for Ghanaians to get in heavily heated-arguments to the point where you think there will be fist fights only to end the conversation as if they were best friends) She thought it was crazy that the woman forgot to bring her work book to work. “You don’t just forget things like that and you have to concentrate very hard at remembering,” Peggy stated.
It was at this point when Peggy spoke/yelled in Twi at Auntie Caroline involving a head manager. Peggy told her that she should be fined or fired for such actions as forgetting such an important book.
It was only after this conversation that Auntie Caroline said she would call someone at home to help to look in the book and determine where my package may be. I accidentally wrote down the wrong number so had to wake my boyfriend up at 4am to check the correct tracking number (Sorry :( ). I was off by one digit and hopefully on my way to finding the package.
When I finally had the tracking number sorted out Auntie Caroline told me her phone was dying and that she must use my phone with the credit I have bought on it. She proceeded to call someone and he would call back in ten minutes. Fifteen minutes later he finally called in which Caroline spoke to him until my phone ran out of credit.
She then proceeded to ask for my name and went into the back room for 20 minutes. She finally came out with a package that was in U.S. packaging that held the potential to be mine. It was only when she asked another lady at a different window to come down by her that I KNEW my package had been found.
Next, comes the bargaining. When you get packages at this post office you must provide an I.D. and sign a million forms claiming you are the one picking it up and then you must pay the handling and taxes fee on your package. The fee is determined by how much the items in your package cost. So the lady tells me my package will be 9 cedi. That is more than I have paid for a package double the size of the one I am receiving. It is custom to have to open the package in front of the employees so they can look what you are getting to make sure the slip was accurate. (There is even one lady in particular that likes to snitch/steal food from you, if you have any in your packages. A friend of mine lost a few rice-krispies to this lady!) I told her I never pay more than 5 cedi a package and she gave me an awful look, muttered a few things under her breath and proceeded to fill out the form to tell me how much I actually owed.
In the meanwhile, Peggy is assisting another lady argue about the 150 cedi cost of her package that contained a digital camera. Peggy thinks it’s ridiculous to even have to pay to receive a package. If you receive electronics here, be prepared to pay A LOT of money. You may as well just go and buy the electronics here. Or as my friends have done, hide it in a box of Cheeze-Its.
Of course, while assisting the other lady, she continually made comments about how Auntie Caroline should get a fine.
In the end I got my package that had been sitting in the shelves of the post office for a month in a half for 5.9 cedi. I was handed my change and receipt the fastest I have ever got it before. I said very friendly good-byes as I was fearful that they were all very mad but I wanted to leave a good lasting impression. They were pleasant but Auntie Caroline handed me my receipt and told me “You come back by YOURSELF next time!”
I thought the journey was just about over but Peggy was still a bit fired-up and proceeded to tell us that we just needed to be more “forceful” next time. We informed her we are NOT Ghanaian and if we did act in such a manner, we would get ignored for longer even probably told to leave. She was again, shocked to hear this.
Then as we were finally leaving she got the attention of the manager again and told him a piece of her mind about the service and what improvements should be made. In particular, she thought it was nuts that you could bargain on the price of a package and instead there should just be a fixed price.
Overall, it was a success if not for the help of wonder-woman Peggy of whom I will be getting Ghanaian food cooking lessons from tomorrow.
More to come, only 16 days remaining!
~Stacie~
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Night Market
Well, it’s officially reaching the end of my trip here in Ghana and man it’s been a dream!
24 days and continually flying by …
Last Friday was the last actual lecture I will have here. The university gives you a week off and then exams start the 26th through May 16th. I have one the 29th, … and last one is the 11th. I am fairly nervous about my exams. They are on the entire semester and we haven’t even so much as had a quiz on any material. Thus, this leaves the exam very broad and open-ended. Also, for my African Literature class we are supposed to complete three exam essays within an allotted time limit of three hours. I hate writing essays and the questions we will have to answer are going to be ones that I could answer in a paragraph and be done in ten minutes. So overall, it should be an interesting experience.
However, today I am going to write about the “Night-market.” I should’ve explained this within the first week I have been here. So the “Night-market” is the place I go to get food every day that is a block from my dorm. It runs all day long so it being called a “night” market is just its name. It is open until 10pm on the weekdays and midnight on the weekends. There are about 15-20 stalls that sell a variety of food and supplies. There are the stalls that sell buckets, locks, packaged cookies & crackers, sandals … you name it. These same stalls also normally sell bread and egg-sandwiches. The egg-sandwiches were good at first but now are quite OLD. But they are convenient to grab on your way to class and are more catered to the international crowd.
Then there are the “whatever-you-want-thrown-in-a-bowl” stands. You start off ordering rice and you order it in the amount of how much you want to pay, not by scoops. The lowest you can go is 50 pesawas (change) and I normally can never finish that amount. Then you proceed to add, either, noodles, salad, coleslaw, plantain, meat, sausage, chicken, or gari (a powder-like filler) on top of your rice. It’s finished off with spicy sauce on top. When I first got here I thought the sauce was the hottest I have ever had. Now, I find myself asking for more and more sauce.
Behind the stands are numerous tables that you can sit at. There is water and towels for you to clean your hands with before you eat. I actually never do that because I always eat with a spoon. There are certain food items and certain times people just eat with their hands. When you go to the market at night the stands with the food are lit up but the places behind that you eat at only have the glimmer of light radiating from the stands. Basically, you eat your bowl of random things in the dark. For the first month I was here I would always use a flashlight to see what I was eating to make-sure no bugs were in my food. I have since gotten over my fears.
Then there are the more traditional stands that sell either Fufu or Banku. This type of food is a ball of dough placed in the center of a bowl that is surrounded by soup. They are many choices in soups that you can order. Both of these foods are eaten solely with your fingers.
The Fufu is a doughy substance that traditionally is supposed to be swallowed and not chewed. I however can NOT manage this task and continually have a gag-reflex every time I swallow a small bit of dough. I have only had Fufu once and never cared to try it again. The dough itself had no flavor and was a smooth texture like pizza-dough. A local Ghanaian was enjoying watching me try to rip pieces of this slimy dough apart. He was trying to show me the proper way to eat it, as I was failing miserably. I couldn’t manage to rip pieces off accurately. When I ate it, it was served in pepper soup. The pepper soup was sooo hot my eyes instantly teared-up. Thus,I left quite a bit behind. There are other types of soups you can order.
Groundnut soup is by far my most favorite. Groundnut is the same thing as peanuts, so groundnut soup is peanut-butter like soup. Banku is served in the same fashion as Fufu. However, Banku actually has a sweet taste to the dough and is a different kind of consistency, more like cookie-dough.
These stands that sell Fufu and Banku make the food that very day and can be watched. It is amazing to see the strong men with their huge biceps take a very long piece of wood and mash up the casava to create these dishes. At the same time a woman is using her hands in between lifting the “masher” to gather and condense the dough. They call it pounding Fufu or Banku. In some of the villages/towns we have visited locals will invite you to help pound the Fufu.
Also, on a quick side note … A common phrase here is “You’re invited!” This means that the locals are telling you that you are more than welcome to come and eat their food with them. Normally, this means from the same bowl that they are eating with their hands from. I have never once taken up on their offers. However, it has become a joke between local ISEP friends and I because the concept of sharing the same sandwich you took a bite out of, seems a bit crazy. They also often ask to be invited to your food. However, they ask and we say yes but no one I have met has been serious enough to sit down.
Outside of these stands there are other random ones. Some serve yam chips that are served with a hot sauce. The yam chips just taste like large fried potatoes. There is a kabob stand that serves, chicken, beef or veggie kabobs. My most favorite stand is one that serves my favorite food called Red-Red. This type of food is beans served in a thick stew with Gari ( a powder like filler) that is accompanied with fried plantains. I practically eat this EVERY day. Not that there is much variety here.
Other stands sell vegetables, and the best tasting and cheapest fruit you will ever find. I love the pineapples and mangos. In American prices, it is like 0.75 cents for a whole fresh pineapple that is cut-up in front of you. It’s like heaven!
The sad part of this booming community is that the people who work in these stands live, breathe, and eat in their same four-by four stall. They sleep overnight on the cement ground in their stalls only to wake-up early every morning and meet the demanding needs of others. I personally have become good friends with a few of the vendors. I am sure that they never get close to any of the international students who come and leave constantly every semester. But they get a large flow and good business from them considering that their stalls are right outside the “International Student Dorms.”
The vendors who I have got to know each have their own story. It is Linda who is the pineapple lady that works with her older mother selling fruit but gives the best prices. It is the Laruba sisters (one who is delightful, and other who has had better days) who try to charge ridiculous prices to the foreigners. It is Henry who is always smiling, telling me I am his faithful customer when I buy bread. Then there is most delightful always smiling Vivian. She is the most commonly known to all, for her fast and delicious egg/veggie sandwiches. Her dilemma involves not only her arthritis in her back but, trying to send her 18 year old daughter to college when she only manages to sell egg sandwiches at a set standard of 0.65 pesawas a day (about 45 American cents). Also, she attends to her two other children, adorable little Lisa and her timid middle son. My heart goes out to these people who day after day scrape together the smallest amount of change in hopes for a better tomorrow, a better future.
So my thoughts are left here … We complain about the increasing prices of food that are still by far affordable for most. BUT do we ever stop to think about those who go all day living off 5 dollars a day to feed their whole family. Not to mention, all the other necessities that go into daily living especially the chance in rising above this poverty that lives in educating their children. Unfortunately, only to end a long days work, by closing their eyes and resting their heads on the dirty, cement pavement hoping and praying for a miracle of a few more cents tomorrow.
~Stacie~
24 days and continually flying by …
Last Friday was the last actual lecture I will have here. The university gives you a week off and then exams start the 26th through May 16th. I have one the 29th, … and last one is the 11th. I am fairly nervous about my exams. They are on the entire semester and we haven’t even so much as had a quiz on any material. Thus, this leaves the exam very broad and open-ended. Also, for my African Literature class we are supposed to complete three exam essays within an allotted time limit of three hours. I hate writing essays and the questions we will have to answer are going to be ones that I could answer in a paragraph and be done in ten minutes. So overall, it should be an interesting experience.
However, today I am going to write about the “Night-market.” I should’ve explained this within the first week I have been here. So the “Night-market” is the place I go to get food every day that is a block from my dorm. It runs all day long so it being called a “night” market is just its name. It is open until 10pm on the weekdays and midnight on the weekends. There are about 15-20 stalls that sell a variety of food and supplies. There are the stalls that sell buckets, locks, packaged cookies & crackers, sandals … you name it. These same stalls also normally sell bread and egg-sandwiches. The egg-sandwiches were good at first but now are quite OLD. But they are convenient to grab on your way to class and are more catered to the international crowd.
Then there are the “whatever-you-want-thrown-in-a-bowl” stands. You start off ordering rice and you order it in the amount of how much you want to pay, not by scoops. The lowest you can go is 50 pesawas (change) and I normally can never finish that amount. Then you proceed to add, either, noodles, salad, coleslaw, plantain, meat, sausage, chicken, or gari (a powder-like filler) on top of your rice. It’s finished off with spicy sauce on top. When I first got here I thought the sauce was the hottest I have ever had. Now, I find myself asking for more and more sauce.
Behind the stands are numerous tables that you can sit at. There is water and towels for you to clean your hands with before you eat. I actually never do that because I always eat with a spoon. There are certain food items and certain times people just eat with their hands. When you go to the market at night the stands with the food are lit up but the places behind that you eat at only have the glimmer of light radiating from the stands. Basically, you eat your bowl of random things in the dark. For the first month I was here I would always use a flashlight to see what I was eating to make-sure no bugs were in my food. I have since gotten over my fears.
Then there are the more traditional stands that sell either Fufu or Banku. This type of food is a ball of dough placed in the center of a bowl that is surrounded by soup. They are many choices in soups that you can order. Both of these foods are eaten solely with your fingers.
The Fufu is a doughy substance that traditionally is supposed to be swallowed and not chewed. I however can NOT manage this task and continually have a gag-reflex every time I swallow a small bit of dough. I have only had Fufu once and never cared to try it again. The dough itself had no flavor and was a smooth texture like pizza-dough. A local Ghanaian was enjoying watching me try to rip pieces of this slimy dough apart. He was trying to show me the proper way to eat it, as I was failing miserably. I couldn’t manage to rip pieces off accurately. When I ate it, it was served in pepper soup. The pepper soup was sooo hot my eyes instantly teared-up. Thus,I left quite a bit behind. There are other types of soups you can order.
Groundnut soup is by far my most favorite. Groundnut is the same thing as peanuts, so groundnut soup is peanut-butter like soup. Banku is served in the same fashion as Fufu. However, Banku actually has a sweet taste to the dough and is a different kind of consistency, more like cookie-dough.
These stands that sell Fufu and Banku make the food that very day and can be watched. It is amazing to see the strong men with their huge biceps take a very long piece of wood and mash up the casava to create these dishes. At the same time a woman is using her hands in between lifting the “masher” to gather and condense the dough. They call it pounding Fufu or Banku. In some of the villages/towns we have visited locals will invite you to help pound the Fufu.
Also, on a quick side note … A common phrase here is “You’re invited!” This means that the locals are telling you that you are more than welcome to come and eat their food with them. Normally, this means from the same bowl that they are eating with their hands from. I have never once taken up on their offers. However, it has become a joke between local ISEP friends and I because the concept of sharing the same sandwich you took a bite out of, seems a bit crazy. They also often ask to be invited to your food. However, they ask and we say yes but no one I have met has been serious enough to sit down.
Outside of these stands there are other random ones. Some serve yam chips that are served with a hot sauce. The yam chips just taste like large fried potatoes. There is a kabob stand that serves, chicken, beef or veggie kabobs. My most favorite stand is one that serves my favorite food called Red-Red. This type of food is beans served in a thick stew with Gari ( a powder like filler) that is accompanied with fried plantains. I practically eat this EVERY day. Not that there is much variety here.
Other stands sell vegetables, and the best tasting and cheapest fruit you will ever find. I love the pineapples and mangos. In American prices, it is like 0.75 cents for a whole fresh pineapple that is cut-up in front of you. It’s like heaven!
The sad part of this booming community is that the people who work in these stands live, breathe, and eat in their same four-by four stall. They sleep overnight on the cement ground in their stalls only to wake-up early every morning and meet the demanding needs of others. I personally have become good friends with a few of the vendors. I am sure that they never get close to any of the international students who come and leave constantly every semester. But they get a large flow and good business from them considering that their stalls are right outside the “International Student Dorms.”
The vendors who I have got to know each have their own story. It is Linda who is the pineapple lady that works with her older mother selling fruit but gives the best prices. It is the Laruba sisters (one who is delightful, and other who has had better days) who try to charge ridiculous prices to the foreigners. It is Henry who is always smiling, telling me I am his faithful customer when I buy bread. Then there is most delightful always smiling Vivian. She is the most commonly known to all, for her fast and delicious egg/veggie sandwiches. Her dilemma involves not only her arthritis in her back but, trying to send her 18 year old daughter to college when she only manages to sell egg sandwiches at a set standard of 0.65 pesawas a day (about 45 American cents). Also, she attends to her two other children, adorable little Lisa and her timid middle son. My heart goes out to these people who day after day scrape together the smallest amount of change in hopes for a better tomorrow, a better future.
So my thoughts are left here … We complain about the increasing prices of food that are still by far affordable for most. BUT do we ever stop to think about those who go all day living off 5 dollars a day to feed their whole family. Not to mention, all the other necessities that go into daily living especially the chance in rising above this poverty that lives in educating their children. Unfortunately, only to end a long days work, by closing their eyes and resting their heads on the dirty, cement pavement hoping and praying for a miracle of a few more cents tomorrow.
~Stacie~
Monday, April 12, 2010
Bead Factory and 1st Ghana Cocoa Farm
This weekend we went to a bead factory in Somanya in the eastern region where they make traditional Krobo African beads. The place we visited was called Cedi Bead Factory named after the creator “Cedi”. These African beads are very important in traditional culture. They are used as a symbol of family status and used on special occasions especially during the “coming of age” ceremonies held in April and May.
We got to walk step-by-step through the entire process of making a bead. It was amazing to see how much work goes into making beads.
You first start off by making the molds, which are made from hard clay found in the bottom of rivers. These molds have indents of the type of bead you are trying to create. Depending on the size of the beads, you can have between 10- 30 holes per mold. The next step is to crush the glass into very fine powder. They use all sorts of glass bottles. Red and blue are the rarest type to find. Next, you pour the desired color (even alternating colors) that you want into the mold. Then, it’s off to fire the molds in ovens that are made out of termite mounds. Once they are done in the ovens, holes are poked into the glass with Cassava stems (a type of root commonly cooked and eaten here). They are then cooled and washed with water. After they are dried some are painted, only to be fired again. When the process is all over, they are given to women who string them.
The final product is necklaces, bracelets, and waist beads. Waist beads are a common old tradition. They are small thin strands of beads in many colors and are worn by females on their waists. These beads are only supposed to be seen by their husbands. They are thought to be “sexy.”They start off worn on babies to measure the amount of weight they are gaining to make sure they are healthy. They have become less common as time has gone on, but are coming back into style being worn on ankles, wrists and even around the neck.
In the end, there was a small shop filled with the different assortment of beads strung in many different ways. The owner gave us each a “free gift” after we had made our purchases. I got a blue, yellow, and white bracelet as my free gift.
Next, we went on to Mampong to the first cocoa farm in Ghana. We toured the plantation. The most interesting thing about cocoa was how it grows. Cocoa starts off on pods that look like fruit. The pods grow on trees, however not like normal fruit that comes off branches; these grow right off the trunks of the tree. The reason for this is that the cocoa only grows where it is shaded. And there are leaves that sprout from the trunks and thus the pods grow in that spot. Sometimes, they grow on the branches but normally they have to be protected from the sun.
We all got to harvest the cocoa. There is long pole with a sharp hook on the end that reaches up to the tops of the trunk and to the high shaded branches above that yield the cocoa pods. So we took turns cutting down the cocoa pods from the towering trees. Once they are down, you gather them and cut them open. When you cut them open, it’s contains white, slimy, mushy seeds. It is common here to suck on the insides until the flavor is gone and spit them out. It tastes very sweet, almost like a mango.
Once they are cut open, the next step is to place the insides on leaves and cover them for about 3 days. After 3 days you uncover the leaves, and place them in a drying rack in the sun. About a week later they turn into little brown “coffee-like” seeds. Finally ready to be sold off.
The final process is packing the brown seeds into sacks and selling them. Here in Ghana, when it comes time to selling they have no choice but by law, must sell their produce to the government. Then the government turns around and sells it to the market (cocoa companies). It seems like that in itself, is the biggest problem that cocoa farmers have. It is impossible for these farmers to ever make more profit than the set price. They have no choice or input on the price other than what the government gives them.
Thus in turn, many of the farmers/producers have started a smuggling process to Ivory Coast. As a result, about 6% of Ghana’s production is smuggled. The reason for the smuggling is that Ivory Coast provides better prices and the money exchange rate is much higher therefore overall, there is much profit to be received.
Other than the corrupt system of price-fixing , I was upset … that there wasn’t just simple Hershey bars on the tree. Instead it took many long months to finally get the end product. What’s more, they didn’t even have real chocolate at the end of the tour to taste!! Although, we did get to try one of the brown “coffee-like” seeds and it tasted very rich and dark with NO sugar.
I learned a lot and have come to respect the long journey of chocolate making. I guess this just gives me more reason to eat more of the HORRIBLE tasting chocolate ... I just don’t know how I am going to survive (poor girl!).
Well, when Matt visited he brought me some Cadbury chocolate eggs…
… Hell I guess Ill force myself to eat some more!
*****Miss everyone, ONLY one month till I am home!*****
~Stacie~
We got to walk step-by-step through the entire process of making a bead. It was amazing to see how much work goes into making beads.
You first start off by making the molds, which are made from hard clay found in the bottom of rivers. These molds have indents of the type of bead you are trying to create. Depending on the size of the beads, you can have between 10- 30 holes per mold. The next step is to crush the glass into very fine powder. They use all sorts of glass bottles. Red and blue are the rarest type to find. Next, you pour the desired color (even alternating colors) that you want into the mold. Then, it’s off to fire the molds in ovens that are made out of termite mounds. Once they are done in the ovens, holes are poked into the glass with Cassava stems (a type of root commonly cooked and eaten here). They are then cooled and washed with water. After they are dried some are painted, only to be fired again. When the process is all over, they are given to women who string them.
The final product is necklaces, bracelets, and waist beads. Waist beads are a common old tradition. They are small thin strands of beads in many colors and are worn by females on their waists. These beads are only supposed to be seen by their husbands. They are thought to be “sexy.”They start off worn on babies to measure the amount of weight they are gaining to make sure they are healthy. They have become less common as time has gone on, but are coming back into style being worn on ankles, wrists and even around the neck.
In the end, there was a small shop filled with the different assortment of beads strung in many different ways. The owner gave us each a “free gift” after we had made our purchases. I got a blue, yellow, and white bracelet as my free gift.
Next, we went on to Mampong to the first cocoa farm in Ghana. We toured the plantation. The most interesting thing about cocoa was how it grows. Cocoa starts off on pods that look like fruit. The pods grow on trees, however not like normal fruit that comes off branches; these grow right off the trunks of the tree. The reason for this is that the cocoa only grows where it is shaded. And there are leaves that sprout from the trunks and thus the pods grow in that spot. Sometimes, they grow on the branches but normally they have to be protected from the sun.
We all got to harvest the cocoa. There is long pole with a sharp hook on the end that reaches up to the tops of the trunk and to the high shaded branches above that yield the cocoa pods. So we took turns cutting down the cocoa pods from the towering trees. Once they are down, you gather them and cut them open. When you cut them open, it’s contains white, slimy, mushy seeds. It is common here to suck on the insides until the flavor is gone and spit them out. It tastes very sweet, almost like a mango.
Once they are cut open, the next step is to place the insides on leaves and cover them for about 3 days. After 3 days you uncover the leaves, and place them in a drying rack in the sun. About a week later they turn into little brown “coffee-like” seeds. Finally ready to be sold off.
The final process is packing the brown seeds into sacks and selling them. Here in Ghana, when it comes time to selling they have no choice but by law, must sell their produce to the government. Then the government turns around and sells it to the market (cocoa companies). It seems like that in itself, is the biggest problem that cocoa farmers have. It is impossible for these farmers to ever make more profit than the set price. They have no choice or input on the price other than what the government gives them.
Thus in turn, many of the farmers/producers have started a smuggling process to Ivory Coast. As a result, about 6% of Ghana’s production is smuggled. The reason for the smuggling is that Ivory Coast provides better prices and the money exchange rate is much higher therefore overall, there is much profit to be received.
Other than the corrupt system of price-fixing , I was upset … that there wasn’t just simple Hershey bars on the tree. Instead it took many long months to finally get the end product. What’s more, they didn’t even have real chocolate at the end of the tour to taste!! Although, we did get to try one of the brown “coffee-like” seeds and it tasted very rich and dark with NO sugar.
I learned a lot and have come to respect the long journey of chocolate making. I guess this just gives me more reason to eat more of the HORRIBLE tasting chocolate ... I just don’t know how I am going to survive (poor girl!).
Well, when Matt visited he brought me some Cadbury chocolate eggs…
… Hell I guess Ill force myself to eat some more!
*****Miss everyone, ONLY one month till I am home!*****
~Stacie~
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Matt’s Adventure with Me around Ghana: Part 1 to Mole National Park
My boyfriend, Matt was here for two weeks and it was one heck of an adventure. Where to start:
After it seemed like forever for him to get off the plane we headed back to my campus. Of course because Matt had suitcases we were courted by every Ghanaian offering their services (I.e. helping us find a taxi, carrying our bags, opening the taxi doors) and of course they think it was only necessary for their “hard work”, to get paid. I told Matt they wanted to be paid and he handed one of them an American $1.00 bill and they then proceeded to ask me where my part of the payment was. I refused because they didn’t do anything for me. I found the taxi, I had no bags and to top it off one of the guys was telling me I was a “Big Lady.” Oh life in Ghana!
It is not uncommon here in Ghana if you are bigger to have multiple comments about it. It isn’t an insult like it is back home but more of an ordinary comment. In fact, bigger women here are given more attention and liked more than the skinny ones.
Our first trip was to Mole National Park where you get to see wild animals, with the most popular being the elephant. We took an STC air-conditioned bus which is a very nice way of traveling in Ghana. We had to stay overnight in a town called Tamale that we didn’t exactly plan on staying in. We had hoped to go straight to Mole in one day but by the time we got there it was too dark and too late for any other transportation. So, we found a hotel that was like all the hotels we stayed at… four walls, two beds and a door that locked. However, this one by far was the HOTTEST hotel I had ever slept in, we sweat all night long.
Being nervous about the conditions of our hotel, we left a heavy bag by the door in case anyone tried to break-in, there would be more of a commotion. We had to get up at 3 am to get a taxi in order to get to the bus station by 4 am for the next bus to Mole. I was organizing all of our bags and was thirsty so I reached in one of our bags and grabbed a water bottle out. I did not have my contacts in at that point and I was pretty out of it. I am about to take a drink when I feel things crawling all over my hand. I squint closely and see there about 15 ants on my hand. I freak out because I am not one to enjoy bugs much less them crawling all over me. Matt then proceeds to look into the bag that I got the water out of, which was the one we put on the ground by the door. Yes … sure enough the ants had found all the food we had brought. There were about a hundred or so ants that were thoroughly enjoying the crackers and cookies. YUCK!
Next step of the adventure was the Metro Bus station. It was incredibly dark outside when our taxi dropped us off at this bus station. We then proceeded to lug our bags through the station asking all the “approachable” people where we could go to purchase a ticket to Mole. After getting a couple “I have no idea” and “The bus is full” responses we looked for a place to sit. So we sat down in the only available spot that was lighted but located right next to a dark alley. I left Matt with the bags and went to look for SOMEONE that could give me a real answer to where I could buy a ticket.
I went into the main room where the employees were and had to wait for 10 minutes before a guy told me to follow him and I could purchase tickets. I begin to follow him and motion for Matt to follow. Suddenly, Matt throws his hands up in a fluster. I backtrack to him to find out what is going on. He proceeds to ask me if I have one of the bags with me. I don’t because I left them all with Matt minus my purse. He looks at me and then says ONE OF OUR BAGS IS GONE! The man who was helping me get a ticket followed me to where Matt was. He soon finds out what happened and proceeds to go around asking and telling lots of people that one of our bags was stolen. A younger Ghanaian lady comes up to us and tells us that she saw a man in camouflage pants come up to where Matt was sitting, put on a bag and walk away. She didn’t say anything to us because that bag wasn’t touching our other bags so she thought it was his bag that he had left. Another lady came up and was shocked to hear the news. Matt was a bit more relieved to hear what the lady had to say. She informed us that stealing was uncommon in Tamale and if you even got caught for stealing a cell phone that you would get beat to death.
In the end they wouldn’t let us leave for about 20 minutes until they tried to locate the thief. With no luck, the man took us to where we needed to buy our ticket.
Unfortunately or not, there were NOT too many important items in that bag. We had all our money on us and cameras in my purse. However, we did lose our malaria medication, bug spray and cosmetics. The saddest and sweetest thing that we lost was an engraved locket that Matt had brought as a surprise gift. I never even got to see it. But moral of the story is that there are angels and thieves all over the world, it doesn’t matter where you are.
When we finally got on the bus it was the craziest, bumpiest, un-paved, road we have ever been on. We got off at a town 10 minutes from Mole because the bus did NOT go to Mole. The town we were in was called Larabanga and is most famous for a 600 year old mosque. I was given a number by a friend of a guy that helped accommodate her through her visit to Mole. When we got off the bus we were ambushed by locals asking us where we were going and could they help. A guy named Abraham (same name as the number I had in my phone from my friend) was insisting on helping us. After trying to call Mole hotel and not getting through Matt and I talked and said well we will see what they can do to help us. I was hesitant at first because often when you get help you are always asked to reimburse them with money for their help. After he said his name was Abraham I decided to see if it was the same Abraham and give the number in my phone a call. When the phone in his hand started ringing, I relaxed a bit and knew we would get where we needed to. He was happy to hear that our friend gave out his number and gladly assisted us.
We walked back to his village where his house was. We entered his one room “house”, taking off our shoes and seeing only a mattress on the floor with a curtain draped around his bed. Next, he talked about the school that he teaches with 50 students and showed pictures and school blueprints of the school he wants to build because they don’t have one. Also, he proudly showed us a framed certificate from his work in the Peace Corps in 2007. They then agreed to give us a walking tour of the mosque and take us by “motor-bike” (aka motorcycle) to Mole National Park where we would be staying the rest of time in Mole.
The motorbikes were the most terrifying and most amazing thing I had done in Africa. I had only ridden a motorcycle once before but to ride one in Africa where you are constantly swerving giant pot holes on the unpaved ground was definitely something to remember. A lot of the locals were laughing at me and speaking in a native tongue. I asked Abraham what they were saying and he said that I looked like I was scared for my life.
Unfortunately, to go along with Murphy’s Law of "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong," Matt got his leg severely burned on the muffler of the bike. This especially sucked because all my medical supplies had been in the bag that was stolen.
We got to Mole Motel and were suppose to have reservations already made by a friend of my coordinator. I should’ve double checked before we left but thought that since it was my coordinator that watches over 50 students that we would be fine. We got there and there were NO rooms! So we had to beg them to let us sleep somewhere. They finally agreed, Matt got to sleep in the guys dorm and I in the female dorm. It wasn’t the best conditions and after our traumatic experience we would’ve rather had a room to ourselves to insure no more lost luggage. Instead, I slept with my arm the tightest around my purse all night long for the next two days.
Our day started to get better when we finally went on an afternoon hike. We saw antelope, baboons, birds, monkeys and warthogs. Unfortunately, we didn’t see ANY elephants that day. When we were back from our hike we wanted to go and cool off in the pool. However, we found out that a couple hours before some Ghanaian men had been drinking and relaxing in the pool. They did NOT know how to swim and in the process 2 of them had drowned and died. The strange part was that they happened in two separate incidents. While they were helping the one Ghanaian by putting him in a vehicle to transport him to the clinic, they heard screaming as they noticed that his friend was also on the bottom of the pool. So this friend didn’t get out of the pool after seeing his friend drown, and then he drowned too.
As gross as it may have seemed it was a hot day and we still went swimming.
After that full out day of craziness, we were ready for whatever life through at us next. So we got up early to go on the morning hike. We had just started our walk when our guide stopped. On the hike down the hill there was a HUGE elephant and then looking a bit closer we saw there were two more on the bottom of the hill. That was when we knew that this whole trip was worth it, just to see live, wild elephants. After that point, we did not see anymore elephants and Matt said he was content after the first ones that he wishes we could’ve just turned around instead of hiking for another hour and half to see very little.
People, even the foreigners here, are incredibly sweet and tend to go out of their way more than you think they would. We made a new friend named Fazrock from the Netherlands that had extra Malarone (anti-malaria medicine) that he gave us and refused to be reimbursed. We enjoyed his company and learned a lot and had interesting conversation the rest of the trip with him. Then another guy saw Matt’s burn wound and said he was a doctor and proceeded to clean and bandage it for him. It is just amazing the generosity people can have.
The last highlight of our trip was when we were talking to our new friend Fazrock in his room when people outside started making a commotion and were motioning for us to come outside. So we went outside our hotel room only to find an ELEPHANT 5 meters from our room enjoying some fresh leaves off the trees near our room.
This was only the first 4 days of our 14 day journey. A lot happened good and bad but Matt and I stuck through it and really learned to appreciate the good moments and let the bad pass quickly. We figured if we could make it through these 14 days and have everything stolen from us that it would still be okay because we would be healthy, but most importantly together.
More of our journey to come!
~Stacie~
After it seemed like forever for him to get off the plane we headed back to my campus. Of course because Matt had suitcases we were courted by every Ghanaian offering their services (I.e. helping us find a taxi, carrying our bags, opening the taxi doors) and of course they think it was only necessary for their “hard work”, to get paid. I told Matt they wanted to be paid and he handed one of them an American $1.00 bill and they then proceeded to ask me where my part of the payment was. I refused because they didn’t do anything for me. I found the taxi, I had no bags and to top it off one of the guys was telling me I was a “Big Lady.” Oh life in Ghana!
It is not uncommon here in Ghana if you are bigger to have multiple comments about it. It isn’t an insult like it is back home but more of an ordinary comment. In fact, bigger women here are given more attention and liked more than the skinny ones.
Our first trip was to Mole National Park where you get to see wild animals, with the most popular being the elephant. We took an STC air-conditioned bus which is a very nice way of traveling in Ghana. We had to stay overnight in a town called Tamale that we didn’t exactly plan on staying in. We had hoped to go straight to Mole in one day but by the time we got there it was too dark and too late for any other transportation. So, we found a hotel that was like all the hotels we stayed at… four walls, two beds and a door that locked. However, this one by far was the HOTTEST hotel I had ever slept in, we sweat all night long.
Being nervous about the conditions of our hotel, we left a heavy bag by the door in case anyone tried to break-in, there would be more of a commotion. We had to get up at 3 am to get a taxi in order to get to the bus station by 4 am for the next bus to Mole. I was organizing all of our bags and was thirsty so I reached in one of our bags and grabbed a water bottle out. I did not have my contacts in at that point and I was pretty out of it. I am about to take a drink when I feel things crawling all over my hand. I squint closely and see there about 15 ants on my hand. I freak out because I am not one to enjoy bugs much less them crawling all over me. Matt then proceeds to look into the bag that I got the water out of, which was the one we put on the ground by the door. Yes … sure enough the ants had found all the food we had brought. There were about a hundred or so ants that were thoroughly enjoying the crackers and cookies. YUCK!
Next step of the adventure was the Metro Bus station. It was incredibly dark outside when our taxi dropped us off at this bus station. We then proceeded to lug our bags through the station asking all the “approachable” people where we could go to purchase a ticket to Mole. After getting a couple “I have no idea” and “The bus is full” responses we looked for a place to sit. So we sat down in the only available spot that was lighted but located right next to a dark alley. I left Matt with the bags and went to look for SOMEONE that could give me a real answer to where I could buy a ticket.
I went into the main room where the employees were and had to wait for 10 minutes before a guy told me to follow him and I could purchase tickets. I begin to follow him and motion for Matt to follow. Suddenly, Matt throws his hands up in a fluster. I backtrack to him to find out what is going on. He proceeds to ask me if I have one of the bags with me. I don’t because I left them all with Matt minus my purse. He looks at me and then says ONE OF OUR BAGS IS GONE! The man who was helping me get a ticket followed me to where Matt was. He soon finds out what happened and proceeds to go around asking and telling lots of people that one of our bags was stolen. A younger Ghanaian lady comes up to us and tells us that she saw a man in camouflage pants come up to where Matt was sitting, put on a bag and walk away. She didn’t say anything to us because that bag wasn’t touching our other bags so she thought it was his bag that he had left. Another lady came up and was shocked to hear the news. Matt was a bit more relieved to hear what the lady had to say. She informed us that stealing was uncommon in Tamale and if you even got caught for stealing a cell phone that you would get beat to death.
In the end they wouldn’t let us leave for about 20 minutes until they tried to locate the thief. With no luck, the man took us to where we needed to buy our ticket.
Unfortunately or not, there were NOT too many important items in that bag. We had all our money on us and cameras in my purse. However, we did lose our malaria medication, bug spray and cosmetics. The saddest and sweetest thing that we lost was an engraved locket that Matt had brought as a surprise gift. I never even got to see it. But moral of the story is that there are angels and thieves all over the world, it doesn’t matter where you are.
When we finally got on the bus it was the craziest, bumpiest, un-paved, road we have ever been on. We got off at a town 10 minutes from Mole because the bus did NOT go to Mole. The town we were in was called Larabanga and is most famous for a 600 year old mosque. I was given a number by a friend of a guy that helped accommodate her through her visit to Mole. When we got off the bus we were ambushed by locals asking us where we were going and could they help. A guy named Abraham (same name as the number I had in my phone from my friend) was insisting on helping us. After trying to call Mole hotel and not getting through Matt and I talked and said well we will see what they can do to help us. I was hesitant at first because often when you get help you are always asked to reimburse them with money for their help. After he said his name was Abraham I decided to see if it was the same Abraham and give the number in my phone a call. When the phone in his hand started ringing, I relaxed a bit and knew we would get where we needed to. He was happy to hear that our friend gave out his number and gladly assisted us.
We walked back to his village where his house was. We entered his one room “house”, taking off our shoes and seeing only a mattress on the floor with a curtain draped around his bed. Next, he talked about the school that he teaches with 50 students and showed pictures and school blueprints of the school he wants to build because they don’t have one. Also, he proudly showed us a framed certificate from his work in the Peace Corps in 2007. They then agreed to give us a walking tour of the mosque and take us by “motor-bike” (aka motorcycle) to Mole National Park where we would be staying the rest of time in Mole.
The motorbikes were the most terrifying and most amazing thing I had done in Africa. I had only ridden a motorcycle once before but to ride one in Africa where you are constantly swerving giant pot holes on the unpaved ground was definitely something to remember. A lot of the locals were laughing at me and speaking in a native tongue. I asked Abraham what they were saying and he said that I looked like I was scared for my life.
Unfortunately, to go along with Murphy’s Law of "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong," Matt got his leg severely burned on the muffler of the bike. This especially sucked because all my medical supplies had been in the bag that was stolen.
We got to Mole Motel and were suppose to have reservations already made by a friend of my coordinator. I should’ve double checked before we left but thought that since it was my coordinator that watches over 50 students that we would be fine. We got there and there were NO rooms! So we had to beg them to let us sleep somewhere. They finally agreed, Matt got to sleep in the guys dorm and I in the female dorm. It wasn’t the best conditions and after our traumatic experience we would’ve rather had a room to ourselves to insure no more lost luggage. Instead, I slept with my arm the tightest around my purse all night long for the next two days.
Our day started to get better when we finally went on an afternoon hike. We saw antelope, baboons, birds, monkeys and warthogs. Unfortunately, we didn’t see ANY elephants that day. When we were back from our hike we wanted to go and cool off in the pool. However, we found out that a couple hours before some Ghanaian men had been drinking and relaxing in the pool. They did NOT know how to swim and in the process 2 of them had drowned and died. The strange part was that they happened in two separate incidents. While they were helping the one Ghanaian by putting him in a vehicle to transport him to the clinic, they heard screaming as they noticed that his friend was also on the bottom of the pool. So this friend didn’t get out of the pool after seeing his friend drown, and then he drowned too.
As gross as it may have seemed it was a hot day and we still went swimming.
After that full out day of craziness, we were ready for whatever life through at us next. So we got up early to go on the morning hike. We had just started our walk when our guide stopped. On the hike down the hill there was a HUGE elephant and then looking a bit closer we saw there were two more on the bottom of the hill. That was when we knew that this whole trip was worth it, just to see live, wild elephants. After that point, we did not see anymore elephants and Matt said he was content after the first ones that he wishes we could’ve just turned around instead of hiking for another hour and half to see very little.
People, even the foreigners here, are incredibly sweet and tend to go out of their way more than you think they would. We made a new friend named Fazrock from the Netherlands that had extra Malarone (anti-malaria medicine) that he gave us and refused to be reimbursed. We enjoyed his company and learned a lot and had interesting conversation the rest of the trip with him. Then another guy saw Matt’s burn wound and said he was a doctor and proceeded to clean and bandage it for him. It is just amazing the generosity people can have.
The last highlight of our trip was when we were talking to our new friend Fazrock in his room when people outside started making a commotion and were motioning for us to come outside. So we went outside our hotel room only to find an ELEPHANT 5 meters from our room enjoying some fresh leaves off the trees near our room.
This was only the first 4 days of our 14 day journey. A lot happened good and bad but Matt and I stuck through it and really learned to appreciate the good moments and let the bad pass quickly. We figured if we could make it through these 14 days and have everything stolen from us that it would still be okay because we would be healthy, but most importantly together.
More of our journey to come!
~Stacie~
Monday, March 1, 2010
A weekend trip to Kumasi
Wow, I am awful at updating this …
We just arrived back from a five and half hour drive back from the weekend spent in Kumasi, a town outside of the capitol Accra. This was the last paid trip that our program will take us on. The trip consisted of a visit to a museum of a palace, touring a kente cloth making village, a symbol fabric stamping village (on the kente cloth), and my favorite a wood-carving village.
The process of making kente cloth was really amazing work and very labor intensive. I am going to attempt to explain the process but it is very difficult to do so… So here goes my attempt:
A guy sits in this very small wooden bench with a bar that fits right on top of his legs that is connected to a huge loom. I had the opportunity to sit on this large loom. Once seated you have to take off your scandals and place between your big toes a metal disk connected to a string. Then, in your hand you hold a spool of thread. Next, you pull down on one of the metal disk with your foot which allows the loom to open at a certain angle for you to thread the string though. Once the string is threaded, you pull down a comb pushing all the thread closer and tighter together. Then you proceed to do the same process, this time pushing down the metal disk in your other foot that opens a different side of the loom. This system is repeated over and over again each time alternating the pulling of the string with opposite feet.
The end product is a long skinny strip of cloth that can either have a single, double or triple pattern. Also, depending on the pattern and colors each cloth has its own meaning. I bought a yellow, black and orange cloth that means peace & unity, and never-give up.
Then we went on to a print making village. This is where you took the kente cloth and were able to stamp symbols on them. There were over 50 different African symbols each with their own different meaning. I had one guy named Daniel that instantly became my “friend” and helped me design all my fabrics. At the end after I paid him he stood outside our tour bus motioning for me to come outside. It is common here to have the men be quiet pestering and I figured he just wanted me to come out so I could give him my number or so he could con me into giving him more money. Surprisingly, out of my disbelief he actually came onto the bus and gave me a strip of kente cloth and said “for free” and he turned and walked off the bus. It is just amazing how genuine the people here are.
Lastly, we went to a wood-carving village. It was here that men spent all day carving anything u can name. They had beautiful sculptures of African woman, kings and queens, masks, animals, plaques, drums even huge tables and chairs. There were sooo many things that I would’ve loved to buy but would have no idea how to bring them home. We were very rushed with time here so most of our group felt as though we didn’t get adequate time. However, there is a wood-making village in the outskirts of Accra near the Aburi Gardens that can be easily traveled to as a one day trip. I am hoping to go there soon.
We stayed two nights in a very nice hotel called Treasure land hotel. The best parts of the hotel were the amazing room air-conditioning, hot water for showers, and pool. The un-lucky part was that every night they played music by the pool and our room was located right above the sound system. One night we could actually feel our beds vibrating to the music. I guess that was sort of relaxing.
The last day before the return home we went and visited the Kumasi market. This is the largest market in all of West Africa. I had no idea how large it was until we were actually in the market. There were people everywhere and it was one stall after another. The market itself was not any different than any other market I have went to. There were fish accompanied with the lovely smell throughout the entire market, pig’s feet, men chopping raw meat on whatever surface they can find, live crabs and slugs, beautiful fabrics and any other home essential you could possibly need.
Overall it was an incredibly packed weekend and I am very rest-less due to the fact that we just got back from sitting all day on an almost 6 hour bus ride. I think I am off to go get some food in the night market and go for a walk.
Until the next time!
~Stacie~
We just arrived back from a five and half hour drive back from the weekend spent in Kumasi, a town outside of the capitol Accra. This was the last paid trip that our program will take us on. The trip consisted of a visit to a museum of a palace, touring a kente cloth making village, a symbol fabric stamping village (on the kente cloth), and my favorite a wood-carving village.
The process of making kente cloth was really amazing work and very labor intensive. I am going to attempt to explain the process but it is very difficult to do so… So here goes my attempt:
A guy sits in this very small wooden bench with a bar that fits right on top of his legs that is connected to a huge loom. I had the opportunity to sit on this large loom. Once seated you have to take off your scandals and place between your big toes a metal disk connected to a string. Then, in your hand you hold a spool of thread. Next, you pull down on one of the metal disk with your foot which allows the loom to open at a certain angle for you to thread the string though. Once the string is threaded, you pull down a comb pushing all the thread closer and tighter together. Then you proceed to do the same process, this time pushing down the metal disk in your other foot that opens a different side of the loom. This system is repeated over and over again each time alternating the pulling of the string with opposite feet.
The end product is a long skinny strip of cloth that can either have a single, double or triple pattern. Also, depending on the pattern and colors each cloth has its own meaning. I bought a yellow, black and orange cloth that means peace & unity, and never-give up.
Then we went on to a print making village. This is where you took the kente cloth and were able to stamp symbols on them. There were over 50 different African symbols each with their own different meaning. I had one guy named Daniel that instantly became my “friend” and helped me design all my fabrics. At the end after I paid him he stood outside our tour bus motioning for me to come outside. It is common here to have the men be quiet pestering and I figured he just wanted me to come out so I could give him my number or so he could con me into giving him more money. Surprisingly, out of my disbelief he actually came onto the bus and gave me a strip of kente cloth and said “for free” and he turned and walked off the bus. It is just amazing how genuine the people here are.
Lastly, we went to a wood-carving village. It was here that men spent all day carving anything u can name. They had beautiful sculptures of African woman, kings and queens, masks, animals, plaques, drums even huge tables and chairs. There were sooo many things that I would’ve loved to buy but would have no idea how to bring them home. We were very rushed with time here so most of our group felt as though we didn’t get adequate time. However, there is a wood-making village in the outskirts of Accra near the Aburi Gardens that can be easily traveled to as a one day trip. I am hoping to go there soon.
We stayed two nights in a very nice hotel called Treasure land hotel. The best parts of the hotel were the amazing room air-conditioning, hot water for showers, and pool. The un-lucky part was that every night they played music by the pool and our room was located right above the sound system. One night we could actually feel our beds vibrating to the music. I guess that was sort of relaxing.
The last day before the return home we went and visited the Kumasi market. This is the largest market in all of West Africa. I had no idea how large it was until we were actually in the market. There were people everywhere and it was one stall after another. The market itself was not any different than any other market I have went to. There were fish accompanied with the lovely smell throughout the entire market, pig’s feet, men chopping raw meat on whatever surface they can find, live crabs and slugs, beautiful fabrics and any other home essential you could possibly need.
Overall it was an incredibly packed weekend and I am very rest-less due to the fact that we just got back from sitting all day on an almost 6 hour bus ride. I think I am off to go get some food in the night market and go for a walk.
Until the next time!
~Stacie~
Yes, I do still attend classes here
Classes …Well for starters I am taking four, African Literature, African Pop Music, Psychology of Religion, and Costume& Make-up. It was a very frustrating process of signing up for classes. There are many restrictions when it comes to choosing to a class. First off in order to classify what year you are in, it goes by level. So instead of Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, and Senior, it is level 100, 200, 300 and 400. You are only allowed to pick classes in your level. Also there are certain categories such as Grouping #1: Math, Sociology, French and Linguistics that you can only chose one subject to pick classes out of, you can’t cross courses. So I couldn’t pick a math course and a French course but I could pick two math courses out of. All of the restrictions are set up to make examination period run smoothly with no overlapping examination times. It is very complicated but needless to say I have all my courses settled and got almost all of the ones I wanted.
When you finally decide by looking through the course book on which course you would like to take you have to individually go to each department on campus and check to see the times it is scheduled. The first week and half it would be a toss-up whether or not a time-sheets are up that tell when your classes would be during the week. So when you finally figure out if the classes that you want will work and that they don’t overlap
It took about 2 weeks for classes to actually start compared to their planned start date. Things here in Ghana move quite differently… we like to call it “Ghanaian time.” I think considering I am always kind of late myself that I am fitting in just fine!
All classes are taught in English however some of the heavy African accents are hard to understand. The professors never show up on time and are normally a half hour late. There are about 200 students in my largest class and 20 in my smallest. Obviously, I am a minority in the classroom but all the students are very welcoming and friendly. There are about 10 white students in my class of 200 students and about 1-4 white students in my other classes. I thought maybe because I was a foreigner I wouldn’t get called on often but that is definitely not the case. I have been called on numerous times sometimes I think it’s BECAUSE I am foreign.
Also, I have yet to catch on to Ghanaian humor. Sometimes the professor will say something and I will completely understand and the whole class will burst a gut laughing and I didn’t think it was funny at all. Sometimes I try to laugh along anyways until the one time the professor said… “You know what’s a good thing about foreigners?” “They will laugh at joke even when they don’t understand.” …. so maybe with time, ill get the humor. hahaha
My favorite class is African Pop Music. We have a British professor, John Collins, that I would assume is in his late 40s and is soooo full of life. The purpose of the class is to learn about how music came to be in different parts of Africa. Some of the music is really ancient and he brings in samples of the music. It’s like going back in time listening to these ancestors chant and sing their songs. Everything he teaches is full of rich history and not the boring stuff either … It is the really exciting stuff of why things are the way they are.
My other classes are nice. They definitely don’t have the work load that I do when I am back home. You take notes when the professor is lecturing. Sometimes the professor will read what feels like a page or two of a quote that you will have to write down that address some point/topic in class. These classes are very lecture based and not very interactive or discussion-based.
As for homework, I haven’t gotten much until this week. I have two 4-page papers I have to write and a bunch of reading to do. It is hard to get books here so instead you have to pay 3-8 cedi a week for class readings that have been photocopied.
Right now I think I am going to use to rest of my Sunday and relax, only 3 days until my boyfriend Matt comes and visits and we go off on our own adventures!! I can’t wait!!
~Stacie~
When you finally decide by looking through the course book on which course you would like to take you have to individually go to each department on campus and check to see the times it is scheduled. The first week and half it would be a toss-up whether or not a time-sheets are up that tell when your classes would be during the week. So when you finally figure out if the classes that you want will work and that they don’t overlap
It took about 2 weeks for classes to actually start compared to their planned start date. Things here in Ghana move quite differently… we like to call it “Ghanaian time.” I think considering I am always kind of late myself that I am fitting in just fine!
All classes are taught in English however some of the heavy African accents are hard to understand. The professors never show up on time and are normally a half hour late. There are about 200 students in my largest class and 20 in my smallest. Obviously, I am a minority in the classroom but all the students are very welcoming and friendly. There are about 10 white students in my class of 200 students and about 1-4 white students in my other classes. I thought maybe because I was a foreigner I wouldn’t get called on often but that is definitely not the case. I have been called on numerous times sometimes I think it’s BECAUSE I am foreign.
Also, I have yet to catch on to Ghanaian humor. Sometimes the professor will say something and I will completely understand and the whole class will burst a gut laughing and I didn’t think it was funny at all. Sometimes I try to laugh along anyways until the one time the professor said… “You know what’s a good thing about foreigners?” “They will laugh at joke even when they don’t understand.” …. so maybe with time, ill get the humor. hahaha
My favorite class is African Pop Music. We have a British professor, John Collins, that I would assume is in his late 40s and is soooo full of life. The purpose of the class is to learn about how music came to be in different parts of Africa. Some of the music is really ancient and he brings in samples of the music. It’s like going back in time listening to these ancestors chant and sing their songs. Everything he teaches is full of rich history and not the boring stuff either … It is the really exciting stuff of why things are the way they are.
My other classes are nice. They definitely don’t have the work load that I do when I am back home. You take notes when the professor is lecturing. Sometimes the professor will read what feels like a page or two of a quote that you will have to write down that address some point/topic in class. These classes are very lecture based and not very interactive or discussion-based.
As for homework, I haven’t gotten much until this week. I have two 4-page papers I have to write and a bunch of reading to do. It is hard to get books here so instead you have to pay 3-8 cedi a week for class readings that have been photocopied.
Right now I think I am going to use to rest of my Sunday and relax, only 3 days until my boyfriend Matt comes and visits and we go off on our own adventures!! I can’t wait!!
~Stacie~
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Cape Coast Slave Castle
Cape Coast …. was beautiful, moving, depressing, heart-wrenching, impacting, but … mostly heavy with emotion. We visited the Cape Coast slave caste. Let me just start by saying reading about it in a textbook does not do it justice, but by being physically there and feeling the tangible evidence brings the cold hard facts to life.
When we got there the castle is set on the coast with the waves crashing in all around the castle, a completely beautiful view. There were cannons surrounding the castle to ward off enemy ships. I tried to lift a cannon ball and I couldn’t lift it, it was so heavy. You had to pay in order to take photos which I had no problem doing. I figured it a mere sliver of my own contributions for all the injustices that were once harnessed on these grounds. On the first part of our tour we went into the male slave chambers. They chambers were made out of concrete and stone and had only 3 slivers of windows incredibly high up. This only allowed sunlight about the size of what you would find coming from underneath a door.
After 2 minutes of being in this chamber I had a bead of sweat down my neck and forehead. There were only about 35 of us in the chambers that had held thousands. I just can’t imagine how hot it must have been considering the heat I felt with just a small group. The slaves were shackled by hands, feet and even neck and were only allowed the space their feet or butt sat, next to hundreds of others. There was a small drainage line in the floor that was about 3 inches deep with hopes of draining feces and urine. However it did very little. When they closed down the slave castle they had a foot of feces and dead bodies to clean out before it was re-open to the public. Can you imagine that?
We moved on and saw the female slave quarters the exact same as the male. Right next to the female slave quarters was a door that led to the ocean and was called the “Door of No Return.” This was the door that slaves were taken to board the slave ships and was the last glimpse of Africa that they all saw. In these slave ships, the slaves were packed like sardines and normally hundreds died and were thrown overboard.
The hardest room for me to be in was a room called “The Cell” in which misbehaving slaves would go to; sent to their death. It was a very small room where 100s of slaves would be in which was even hotter than the other slave chambers. The slaves would all die of lack of oxygen because there were no windows. I can’t imagine being sent to that room for misbehaving. In which that probably meant you were trying to escape from the torture you were held under. Only to in turn be thrown into this room, ultimately ending your life and watching your fellow Africans around you defecate themselves to death.
We got to tour the British quarters which were very nice and had enormous space to sleep in with a beautiful view. (Just don’t forget to ignore all the moaning slaves below your feet … I could never sleep under those conditions) The most impacting thing to me was that the British church was located right above the male slave chambers.
When slavery was abolished, the cape coast slave castle blocked off the tunnel that led the slaves to the “Door of No Return.” This marked a symbol to the end of slavery. Now on one end they had an alter where they imitate (for the tourists) ancient ancestry religion symbolic for all those Africans who lost their lives. Now on the “Door of No Return” is a sign that reads “Door of Return” indicating that Africa is making their own return from this horrific mark in history. This sign hangs on the other side of the door that says “Door of No Return” as if you were walking back from the ocean.
This trip by far was exactly what I came to experience here in Ghana. I wanted to feel with my heart the pain and to see with my eyes the hurt. I still yearn to understand how things like this could ever happen … how humankind can make this okay.
It is this quote that was found in the museum of African’s history that was located in the castle that I will leave you with as my last thoughts …
“No one knows when the hour of African’s redemption cometh. It is in the wind, it is coming. One day like a storm it will be here. When that day comes, all Africa will stand together.”
~Stacie~
When we got there the castle is set on the coast with the waves crashing in all around the castle, a completely beautiful view. There were cannons surrounding the castle to ward off enemy ships. I tried to lift a cannon ball and I couldn’t lift it, it was so heavy. You had to pay in order to take photos which I had no problem doing. I figured it a mere sliver of my own contributions for all the injustices that were once harnessed on these grounds. On the first part of our tour we went into the male slave chambers. They chambers were made out of concrete and stone and had only 3 slivers of windows incredibly high up. This only allowed sunlight about the size of what you would find coming from underneath a door.
After 2 minutes of being in this chamber I had a bead of sweat down my neck and forehead. There were only about 35 of us in the chambers that had held thousands. I just can’t imagine how hot it must have been considering the heat I felt with just a small group. The slaves were shackled by hands, feet and even neck and were only allowed the space their feet or butt sat, next to hundreds of others. There was a small drainage line in the floor that was about 3 inches deep with hopes of draining feces and urine. However it did very little. When they closed down the slave castle they had a foot of feces and dead bodies to clean out before it was re-open to the public. Can you imagine that?
We moved on and saw the female slave quarters the exact same as the male. Right next to the female slave quarters was a door that led to the ocean and was called the “Door of No Return.” This was the door that slaves were taken to board the slave ships and was the last glimpse of Africa that they all saw. In these slave ships, the slaves were packed like sardines and normally hundreds died and were thrown overboard.
The hardest room for me to be in was a room called “The Cell” in which misbehaving slaves would go to; sent to their death. It was a very small room where 100s of slaves would be in which was even hotter than the other slave chambers. The slaves would all die of lack of oxygen because there were no windows. I can’t imagine being sent to that room for misbehaving. In which that probably meant you were trying to escape from the torture you were held under. Only to in turn be thrown into this room, ultimately ending your life and watching your fellow Africans around you defecate themselves to death.
We got to tour the British quarters which were very nice and had enormous space to sleep in with a beautiful view. (Just don’t forget to ignore all the moaning slaves below your feet … I could never sleep under those conditions) The most impacting thing to me was that the British church was located right above the male slave chambers.
When slavery was abolished, the cape coast slave castle blocked off the tunnel that led the slaves to the “Door of No Return.” This marked a symbol to the end of slavery. Now on one end they had an alter where they imitate (for the tourists) ancient ancestry religion symbolic for all those Africans who lost their lives. Now on the “Door of No Return” is a sign that reads “Door of Return” indicating that Africa is making their own return from this horrific mark in history. This sign hangs on the other side of the door that says “Door of No Return” as if you were walking back from the ocean.
This trip by far was exactly what I came to experience here in Ghana. I wanted to feel with my heart the pain and to see with my eyes the hurt. I still yearn to understand how things like this could ever happen … how humankind can make this okay.
It is this quote that was found in the museum of African’s history that was located in the castle that I will leave you with as my last thoughts …
“No one knows when the hour of African’s redemption cometh. It is in the wind, it is coming. One day like a storm it will be here. When that day comes, all Africa will stand together.”
~Stacie~
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Whiteman's graveyard
For years Ghana has been known as the "whiteman's graveyard." It was during the gold rush years that this precious metal had been discovered in Africa. So many Europeans and Westerners went to South Africa to collect the gold. News reached the white that there was gold in Ghana, so many headed north in search of this gold. Well when they arrived they did not take into account the fact that Ghana is much more of a tropical climate than South Africa and the one word that happened to be last word for most .... mosquito! The mosquitoes bred very easily in this climate and carried many diseases that the white had never been exposed to and in turn, died in a short period of time.
But for now, let me introduce you to my friend Theresa. I got a knock on my door at 9am a week ago (dragging me out of bed). She looked very pale and said that her professor told her she should go home and go straight to the hospital. So she asked me if I would take her cuz I had no class that day. She claimed she almost passed out in class and felt very hot but when you touched her she was cold. Theresa was complaining of very sharp upper stomach pains and her eyes were jaundice.
We were lucky to be provided a personal driver to take us to the hospital for free. We went to the private hospital because service is not very efficient at the public hospitals. When we arrived we expected to pull up to some building with huge doors and air conditioning (very rare here). However, we pulled up to a building similar to what you would compare to an outdoor motel. It was all open with no air conditioning. There was a window similar to that of a gas station with the pelxi-glass separating you and there was an opening with enough space for you to hand over your insurance card. You went up to this window to start explaining your condition and fill out your paperwork. Then you had to find a seat in one of the limited folding chairs that lined up against any open wall space. Our coordinator came to the hospital and came to check on us which was very nice.
After what seemed like forever (about an hour and a half) we finally were escorted into a room called “Temperature Room.” AT LAST … a room with air conditioning!! Her vitals were taken there and we were escorted into one of about eight waiting rooms. They called her name and she left me in the waiting room. Twenty minutes later she came out and was told she had to go to the recovery room. The doctor said that he had seen this case many times before and after an hour she would laugh and be all better. He claimed it to be her malaria medicine that she was taking made her sick. He instructed the nurse to give her an I.V. The nurse told me that she would be done in one hour and I was told I had to wait in the waiting room and not sit next to her in the air conditioning.
I came back one hour later only to be told it would prolly be another hour and a half. Theresa said she still wasn’t feeling any better after an hour with the I.V. fluids. In the meantime our coordinator was calling me and checking in on me to see if I was still waiting and what the latest was. I informed her that Theresa got an I.V. and I was just waiting until she was done. I got caught up in the book I was reading and lost track of time. Maybe another two and half hours later, my coordinator was calling me again, telling me that she was at the hospital and I should come find her.
When I finally found her, she informed me that my friend Theresa had been admitted for the night. So after 5 hours of waiting I went and said goodbye to Theresa who still wasn’t feeling any better and still at that time had the same diagnosis. After I left we found out 2 hours later that they had just done a blood test and she in fact had Malaria.
As of yesterday morning we have our second case of Malaria in our group of about 40 students. The second student was continually throwing up on the bus home. He was on his way back from a trip from Mole National Park (where you can see elephants). And another student went to the hospital continually throwing up. Surprisingly all of the students are on anti-malaria medication but unfortunately still have gotten it. It seems as though everyone is dropping like flies. But getting Malaria is very very common here and is easily treatable. Most children that live here come down with it at least once and whenever your body gets run down its common for it to come back.
But no worries for me minus a bit up of an upset stomach I am adjusting just fine to everything!
~Stacie~
But for now, let me introduce you to my friend Theresa. I got a knock on my door at 9am a week ago (dragging me out of bed). She looked very pale and said that her professor told her she should go home and go straight to the hospital. So she asked me if I would take her cuz I had no class that day. She claimed she almost passed out in class and felt very hot but when you touched her she was cold. Theresa was complaining of very sharp upper stomach pains and her eyes were jaundice.
We were lucky to be provided a personal driver to take us to the hospital for free. We went to the private hospital because service is not very efficient at the public hospitals. When we arrived we expected to pull up to some building with huge doors and air conditioning (very rare here). However, we pulled up to a building similar to what you would compare to an outdoor motel. It was all open with no air conditioning. There was a window similar to that of a gas station with the pelxi-glass separating you and there was an opening with enough space for you to hand over your insurance card. You went up to this window to start explaining your condition and fill out your paperwork. Then you had to find a seat in one of the limited folding chairs that lined up against any open wall space. Our coordinator came to the hospital and came to check on us which was very nice.
After what seemed like forever (about an hour and a half) we finally were escorted into a room called “Temperature Room.” AT LAST … a room with air conditioning!! Her vitals were taken there and we were escorted into one of about eight waiting rooms. They called her name and she left me in the waiting room. Twenty minutes later she came out and was told she had to go to the recovery room. The doctor said that he had seen this case many times before and after an hour she would laugh and be all better. He claimed it to be her malaria medicine that she was taking made her sick. He instructed the nurse to give her an I.V. The nurse told me that she would be done in one hour and I was told I had to wait in the waiting room and not sit next to her in the air conditioning.
I came back one hour later only to be told it would prolly be another hour and a half. Theresa said she still wasn’t feeling any better after an hour with the I.V. fluids. In the meantime our coordinator was calling me and checking in on me to see if I was still waiting and what the latest was. I informed her that Theresa got an I.V. and I was just waiting until she was done. I got caught up in the book I was reading and lost track of time. Maybe another two and half hours later, my coordinator was calling me again, telling me that she was at the hospital and I should come find her.
When I finally found her, she informed me that my friend Theresa had been admitted for the night. So after 5 hours of waiting I went and said goodbye to Theresa who still wasn’t feeling any better and still at that time had the same diagnosis. After I left we found out 2 hours later that they had just done a blood test and she in fact had Malaria.
As of yesterday morning we have our second case of Malaria in our group of about 40 students. The second student was continually throwing up on the bus home. He was on his way back from a trip from Mole National Park (where you can see elephants). And another student went to the hospital continually throwing up. Surprisingly all of the students are on anti-malaria medication but unfortunately still have gotten it. It seems as though everyone is dropping like flies. But getting Malaria is very very common here and is easily treatable. Most children that live here come down with it at least once and whenever your body gets run down its common for it to come back.
But no worries for me minus a bit up of an upset stomach I am adjusting just fine to everything!
~Stacie~
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Liberian Refugee Camp
Sooo ...
The power went out this morning and proceeded to stay out for the next 7 hours. I was going to stay-in and have a relaxing day in my room … but with no power, it gets hot ( due to the fact that there is no electric fans running in our rooms) and thus there is practically nothing to do.
So a group of 24 students decided they wanted to go and visit a Liberian Refugee camp. It was about a hour and half away and contrary to belief is still in Ghana and NOT Liberia. There was a large war in Liberia which has since ended but numerous people would flood to Ghana to escape the violent conditions.
We took Tro- Tros the whole ride there. Tro- Tros are these large van like vehicles that multiple people pile into and are packed (but comfortably) that go to main part of town at a VERY cheap price. We only paid 1.30 cedi for an hour and half drive there… so about 3 cedi round trip.
When we arrived I expected conditions to be like they are shown on T.V. and in the movies (like tents set up everywhere and people begging for help). To my surprise it was the complete opposite. People had been there a long enough time that they actually had houses; or at least what they call houses we would call “shacks” and a lot of local Ghanaians have moved in. Their reason for the recent rise in Ghanaians in the refugee camp is that the Ghanaians pay for the houses and that way the Liberian refugees have actual money in their hands. Otherwise it was practically a little village.
I had met one lady who had come to Ghana in flee of Liberia in 1990. She stayed for ten years but in 2000 went back to Liberia. She stayed there for 5 years but found it incredibly hard to get back into the system. So she left Liberia to return to her 3 children in Ghana and now runs the refugee woman’s empowerment portion of the camp. She says her home and people need her here.
So we got to see their office central office. In the office there were 12 sewing machines in which the Liberian refugee women make purses and learn to make dresses. They offer free classes to all the woman and there are 32 women in the camp and they are in need of more sewing machines (which run about 80 cedi for one sewing machine).
They also offer scholarships to the refugee children, along with a woman empowerment group that is also being run at the camp. After the tour we stayed, had lunch, and played with some of the children. On the way back the Tro –Tro was again packed and it was a very loooong hot and sweaty ride home.
We arrived back and to my surprise had power back! I took the most amazing shower (which is my favorite part of the day).
I ended the day with a sausage shish –kabob and a mango.
Tomorrow I have no class so I am headed to a school that needs help teaching the children English and is 10 minute ride away from campus on a Tro-Tro.
I can’t wait to have more details soon.
Hope everyone is doing well. Miss you all!!
~Stacie~
The power went out this morning and proceeded to stay out for the next 7 hours. I was going to stay-in and have a relaxing day in my room … but with no power, it gets hot ( due to the fact that there is no electric fans running in our rooms) and thus there is practically nothing to do.
So a group of 24 students decided they wanted to go and visit a Liberian Refugee camp. It was about a hour and half away and contrary to belief is still in Ghana and NOT Liberia. There was a large war in Liberia which has since ended but numerous people would flood to Ghana to escape the violent conditions.
We took Tro- Tros the whole ride there. Tro- Tros are these large van like vehicles that multiple people pile into and are packed (but comfortably) that go to main part of town at a VERY cheap price. We only paid 1.30 cedi for an hour and half drive there… so about 3 cedi round trip.
When we arrived I expected conditions to be like they are shown on T.V. and in the movies (like tents set up everywhere and people begging for help). To my surprise it was the complete opposite. People had been there a long enough time that they actually had houses; or at least what they call houses we would call “shacks” and a lot of local Ghanaians have moved in. Their reason for the recent rise in Ghanaians in the refugee camp is that the Ghanaians pay for the houses and that way the Liberian refugees have actual money in their hands. Otherwise it was practically a little village.
I had met one lady who had come to Ghana in flee of Liberia in 1990. She stayed for ten years but in 2000 went back to Liberia. She stayed there for 5 years but found it incredibly hard to get back into the system. So she left Liberia to return to her 3 children in Ghana and now runs the refugee woman’s empowerment portion of the camp. She says her home and people need her here.
So we got to see their office central office. In the office there were 12 sewing machines in which the Liberian refugee women make purses and learn to make dresses. They offer free classes to all the woman and there are 32 women in the camp and they are in need of more sewing machines (which run about 80 cedi for one sewing machine).
They also offer scholarships to the refugee children, along with a woman empowerment group that is also being run at the camp. After the tour we stayed, had lunch, and played with some of the children. On the way back the Tro –Tro was again packed and it was a very loooong hot and sweaty ride home.
We arrived back and to my surprise had power back! I took the most amazing shower (which is my favorite part of the day).
I ended the day with a sausage shish –kabob and a mango.
Tomorrow I have no class so I am headed to a school that needs help teaching the children English and is 10 minute ride away from campus on a Tro-Tro.
I can’t wait to have more details soon.
Hope everyone is doing well. Miss you all!!
~Stacie~
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
No Electricity, No Water .... Earthquake?! ... making the best of everything
Hey guys,
So sorry it has taken me sooo long to update this. The past couple of days have been CRAZY. I currently am sitting in the international office writing to you because I have no electricity (thus no internet). We also have no water so I got to take my first official bucket shower. In which you get water from a spicket in our courtyard and carry it to the showers to bathe. It was not that bad. The only part that is quite awful is that everyone still uses the bathrooms so they smell horribly, because we cannot flush.
We are going on our 4th day with no electricity and no water. I am not sure why we have such problems with it. My only thought is that we as foriegners use too much electricity. I have talked to a couple locals and they never seem to have a problem with no electiricity/water.
Other Adventures:
Sunday we toured Accra the capitol of Ghana. It was really cool we went to the burial site of their first president and got a tour of his life. We went to the beach was absolutely breath-taking.... just like the movies. We also saw a palace and the American Embassay (don't worry I didn't take any photos). The reason why I didn't take any photos is because they didn't inform us to bring them so I forgot mine back in the hostel (dorm). But not to worry I will take pictures of my room and the surrounding area and post them soon!
During our tour on Sunday our group got dropped off at a local market in order to experience more of the culture of Ghana for 15 minutes. The second we got off the bus all the locals SWARMED us. They were touching and talking to us and were very pushy. They wanted us to buy something from each one of our stands. Chelsea, my friend and I saw these amazing intricate paintings on canvas. The guy who claimed he was the painter made us look through them all and when we saw some we liked he set them aside. So by the end we had like 10 paintings set aside. We told him we were just looking and not interested in buying.
Unfortunately, he would not take that for an answer. He informed us it was Sunday and that we would get a good price. He started off by saying that one painting normally ran for 20 cedes (Ghana's currency). We were told because we are white they jack up the prices very high and we MUST barter. We should pay no more than 55% of their first offer. So Chelsea and I picked out our favorite painting. He rolled them up and put them in our hand and told us we would make a very good deal for us. His first offer he said normally one painting is $20. We bartered and said we would take 2 for $20 paying $10 each. He said no, no, no, I will do 2 for $25. At that point we were very stressed and many locals were still very close around us and we didn't feel comfortable (clutching our purses). So I told Chelsea we should walk away. So we did and the second we did the guy said fine fine and immediately started rolling them up. He said we will give them to you for 2 for $20. As soon as we paid and people knew we had money everyone just wanted us to come in and look, all saying that "looking was free" but in reality when you looked they all just said I will make you a very good price. When we finally got back to the bus we had local students that had been showing us around the campus and had been with us the whole week and wanted to see what we had bought. When we showed them and they asked us how much we paid.... they were shocked, one local said that it wasn't TOO bad but the other said she would not have paid more than 5-6 cede for one painting. Basically we are OBVIOUSLY still learning.....
The best part of the whole expericence was that the painter said his name was Joe... and when we got back to the bus, we looked at the bottom of the painting at the signature. Chelsea's said "Joe" mine said "Evan" .... So something tells me he did NOT paint these!
Next adventure on Sunday was off to buy our necessities... pots pans to cook with, toliet paper, buckets to shower with, towels, pillows, mosquito nets, anything anyone needed. So I gathered my items: bucket, cutting board with knifes, soap for washing clothes, pins to hang photos.... and toliet paper that was suppose to be 0.50 pesawas (Ghana's coins) At this point I was exhausted from traveling all day and experiencing everything and not being able to shower. So I proceeded to check out. My total came to $13.00 and I only had $12.00 on me so I had to return my cutting board and knifes. I went to the bus and everyone was like ohh how much was the toliet paper. I was like oh it was a really good deal only o.50 pesawas. and they were like ohhh nice! Until a girl said oh, I thought they were 0.50 pesawas a rolls. I proceeded to check my reciept only to find out she was right! I got charged 5.00 cede for the cheapest toliet paper ever! Basically I am STILL learning.....
SO END OF STORY I was exhausted, sweaty, hott, and just wanted a shower! So we hung out for a while and went to bed around 11. It was hard to fall asleep especially because of the mosquito net that makes conditions extra hott and with no electricity we had no ceiling fans running at night. So when we finally were asleep we got rudly awaken at 3:30am by pounding on our door. It had been our friends from the floor above. They were frantic and told us that we had to get out of our room because there is an earthquake warning. So we quickly jumped out of bed and pounded on our neighbors doors to wake them up and went outside. No one knew what was going on and everyone was complaining and just wanted to go to bed. We stood outside for about one hour and finally called our coordinator. She informed us that it was a joke that had come across the radio and the whole country of Ghana thought it was true. Soooo... my night/day was truly the most eventful thus far.
Needless to say the next day was rough and I am not sure I have had a good nights sleep yet. But it has to take awhile for my body to adjust to such different experiences. Even with everything said I am having a very very good time. The locals are soooo friendly here and I am learning soooo much! On accident I keep using my left hand to wave or to recieve things with and that is very much an insult in Ghana. The right hand is what should be used to shake hands, wave, and recieve things with. Soooo much still to learn.
Well I think this is intense enough for now. There is rumor that we have electricity back already but that was said yesterday too. So if that is the case I hope to write more soon!!
Miss everyone!!!
~"Amma" (Saturday-born) Stacie~
So sorry it has taken me sooo long to update this. The past couple of days have been CRAZY. I currently am sitting in the international office writing to you because I have no electricity (thus no internet). We also have no water so I got to take my first official bucket shower. In which you get water from a spicket in our courtyard and carry it to the showers to bathe. It was not that bad. The only part that is quite awful is that everyone still uses the bathrooms so they smell horribly, because we cannot flush.
We are going on our 4th day with no electricity and no water. I am not sure why we have such problems with it. My only thought is that we as foriegners use too much electricity. I have talked to a couple locals and they never seem to have a problem with no electiricity/water.
Other Adventures:
Sunday we toured Accra the capitol of Ghana. It was really cool we went to the burial site of their first president and got a tour of his life. We went to the beach was absolutely breath-taking.... just like the movies. We also saw a palace and the American Embassay (don't worry I didn't take any photos). The reason why I didn't take any photos is because they didn't inform us to bring them so I forgot mine back in the hostel (dorm). But not to worry I will take pictures of my room and the surrounding area and post them soon!
During our tour on Sunday our group got dropped off at a local market in order to experience more of the culture of Ghana for 15 minutes. The second we got off the bus all the locals SWARMED us. They were touching and talking to us and were very pushy. They wanted us to buy something from each one of our stands. Chelsea, my friend and I saw these amazing intricate paintings on canvas. The guy who claimed he was the painter made us look through them all and when we saw some we liked he set them aside. So by the end we had like 10 paintings set aside. We told him we were just looking and not interested in buying.
Unfortunately, he would not take that for an answer. He informed us it was Sunday and that we would get a good price. He started off by saying that one painting normally ran for 20 cedes (Ghana's currency). We were told because we are white they jack up the prices very high and we MUST barter. We should pay no more than 55% of their first offer. So Chelsea and I picked out our favorite painting. He rolled them up and put them in our hand and told us we would make a very good deal for us. His first offer he said normally one painting is $20. We bartered and said we would take 2 for $20 paying $10 each. He said no, no, no, I will do 2 for $25. At that point we were very stressed and many locals were still very close around us and we didn't feel comfortable (clutching our purses). So I told Chelsea we should walk away. So we did and the second we did the guy said fine fine and immediately started rolling them up. He said we will give them to you for 2 for $20. As soon as we paid and people knew we had money everyone just wanted us to come in and look, all saying that "looking was free" but in reality when you looked they all just said I will make you a very good price. When we finally got back to the bus we had local students that had been showing us around the campus and had been with us the whole week and wanted to see what we had bought. When we showed them and they asked us how much we paid.... they were shocked, one local said that it wasn't TOO bad but the other said she would not have paid more than 5-6 cede for one painting. Basically we are OBVIOUSLY still learning.....
The best part of the whole expericence was that the painter said his name was Joe... and when we got back to the bus, we looked at the bottom of the painting at the signature. Chelsea's said "Joe" mine said "Evan" .... So something tells me he did NOT paint these!
Next adventure on Sunday was off to buy our necessities... pots pans to cook with, toliet paper, buckets to shower with, towels, pillows, mosquito nets, anything anyone needed. So I gathered my items: bucket, cutting board with knifes, soap for washing clothes, pins to hang photos.... and toliet paper that was suppose to be 0.50 pesawas (Ghana's coins) At this point I was exhausted from traveling all day and experiencing everything and not being able to shower. So I proceeded to check out. My total came to $13.00 and I only had $12.00 on me so I had to return my cutting board and knifes. I went to the bus and everyone was like ohh how much was the toliet paper. I was like oh it was a really good deal only o.50 pesawas. and they were like ohhh nice! Until a girl said oh, I thought they were 0.50 pesawas a rolls. I proceeded to check my reciept only to find out she was right! I got charged 5.00 cede for the cheapest toliet paper ever! Basically I am STILL learning.....
SO END OF STORY I was exhausted, sweaty, hott, and just wanted a shower! So we hung out for a while and went to bed around 11. It was hard to fall asleep especially because of the mosquito net that makes conditions extra hott and with no electricity we had no ceiling fans running at night. So when we finally were asleep we got rudly awaken at 3:30am by pounding on our door. It had been our friends from the floor above. They were frantic and told us that we had to get out of our room because there is an earthquake warning. So we quickly jumped out of bed and pounded on our neighbors doors to wake them up and went outside. No one knew what was going on and everyone was complaining and just wanted to go to bed. We stood outside for about one hour and finally called our coordinator. She informed us that it was a joke that had come across the radio and the whole country of Ghana thought it was true. Soooo... my night/day was truly the most eventful thus far.
Needless to say the next day was rough and I am not sure I have had a good nights sleep yet. But it has to take awhile for my body to adjust to such different experiences. Even with everything said I am having a very very good time. The locals are soooo friendly here and I am learning soooo much! On accident I keep using my left hand to wave or to recieve things with and that is very much an insult in Ghana. The right hand is what should be used to shake hands, wave, and recieve things with. Soooo much still to learn.
Well I think this is intense enough for now. There is rumor that we have electricity back already but that was said yesterday too. So if that is the case I hope to write more soon!!
Miss everyone!!!
~"Amma" (Saturday-born) Stacie~
Friday, January 15, 2010
First Post from Ghana :)
Hey everyone!!
So I have arrived in Ghana, Africa and have internet in my room. The instant we landed the plane windows fogged up ... and when we stepped out it was like a sauna; super humid and very muggy. Your skin is always sweaty and sticky. However, night time is the best, there is a cool breeze that blows through our windows. It just stormed about 2 hours ago and you could see the storm coming from a distance and it took 5 minutes until it was officially down pouring. All the roads are dirt-covered so they immediately became flooded. Good thing mom packed me a poncho!! :) Bad thing cuz it rained there are now more mosquitoes around! Hopefully pools of water don't stay around long.
The first day we got in it was late so we were advised to take a shower before bed to make us feel better. My roommate (who is from Tennessee- and is SUPER sweet) went to take one and I was still organizing things in my room. Well I got everything settled and went to go to the showers only to find her in the sink washing her hair with very little water. When I asked why she told me that during her shower the water went out. So we had no water to shower with. We asked another girl who had been here a semester before and she said that last semester they were out of water for over a week cuz there was a shortage in the area ... so either you had to take a bucket shower or go to another building that may or may not have water. So far the water-shortage issue has not happened again this week.
Most of this week was filled with touring this ginormous campus that has an estimate 30,000 people attending it. The buildings are super far away might take me like 20-30 minutes to get to some of my classes by walking, which is so much further away then my gated Edgewood College. The rest of the week has been full of lectures on culture, safety, ettiquette and medical safety.
In particular today we went to this HUGE market in Medina. We were obviously the only white people around where as on campus you run into a few other foreigners there and people are more used to seeing white people. People at the market were very friendly and kept teaching us Twi (a common language spoken here). Everyone wanted us to buy something from them and others would just ask us if we would give them money. White people are called "Bruni's" so far little kids have come up to us bright eyed and waving yelling "Bruni, bruni, bruni!!" All of the children/babies are sooooo precious!
The food here isn't too bad. The first day we got here everything we incredibly spicy but now my tastebuds have adjusted and I am actually liking the food. The main staple here is rice served with sauce with either chicken or beef. So that is relative to what I eat every meal. Thus far as far as foreign food goes I have tried yam balls, fried plantains, and fresh pineapple from the market.
The craziest thing I have seen thus far is that there is a monkey tied to a tree in somones front yard so basically, they have a pet monkey!!! How crazy is that!!
Well I think this is enough for now. I miss everyone soooo much, please help me stay in contact with everyone with brief comments through email or facebook! I'll be updating often ... Take care!!
:)
So I have arrived in Ghana, Africa and have internet in my room. The instant we landed the plane windows fogged up ... and when we stepped out it was like a sauna; super humid and very muggy. Your skin is always sweaty and sticky. However, night time is the best, there is a cool breeze that blows through our windows. It just stormed about 2 hours ago and you could see the storm coming from a distance and it took 5 minutes until it was officially down pouring. All the roads are dirt-covered so they immediately became flooded. Good thing mom packed me a poncho!! :) Bad thing cuz it rained there are now more mosquitoes around! Hopefully pools of water don't stay around long.
The first day we got in it was late so we were advised to take a shower before bed to make us feel better. My roommate (who is from Tennessee- and is SUPER sweet) went to take one and I was still organizing things in my room. Well I got everything settled and went to go to the showers only to find her in the sink washing her hair with very little water. When I asked why she told me that during her shower the water went out. So we had no water to shower with. We asked another girl who had been here a semester before and she said that last semester they were out of water for over a week cuz there was a shortage in the area ... so either you had to take a bucket shower or go to another building that may or may not have water. So far the water-shortage issue has not happened again this week.
Most of this week was filled with touring this ginormous campus that has an estimate 30,000 people attending it. The buildings are super far away might take me like 20-30 minutes to get to some of my classes by walking, which is so much further away then my gated Edgewood College. The rest of the week has been full of lectures on culture, safety, ettiquette and medical safety.
In particular today we went to this HUGE market in Medina. We were obviously the only white people around where as on campus you run into a few other foreigners there and people are more used to seeing white people. People at the market were very friendly and kept teaching us Twi (a common language spoken here). Everyone wanted us to buy something from them and others would just ask us if we would give them money. White people are called "Bruni's" so far little kids have come up to us bright eyed and waving yelling "Bruni, bruni, bruni!!" All of the children/babies are sooooo precious!
The food here isn't too bad. The first day we got here everything we incredibly spicy but now my tastebuds have adjusted and I am actually liking the food. The main staple here is rice served with sauce with either chicken or beef. So that is relative to what I eat every meal. Thus far as far as foreign food goes I have tried yam balls, fried plantains, and fresh pineapple from the market.
The craziest thing I have seen thus far is that there is a monkey tied to a tree in somones front yard so basically, they have a pet monkey!!! How crazy is that!!
Well I think this is enough for now. I miss everyone soooo much, please help me stay in contact with everyone with brief comments through email or facebook! I'll be updating often ... Take care!!
:)
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