post gold coast

After spending a semester in Ghana, my whole outlook has changed a bit. I'm sure it will surface even more once I return to the gray and run of the mill liberal arts college that is PC. Unfortunately for you, my faithful readers, I feel as if I let you down in my blogging. I didn't update as often as I should of. Part of it was the lack of reliable and accessible internet, but the larger part was my own fault. So here is my second try. I'm going to start a new blog. A Post-Ghana blog about my education and life at a conservative catholic college and what I can stir up there. It's really just going to be a lot of anecdotes and reflections on how my experiences in Ghana have affected me (both positively and negatively) and how that's going to play into the main aspect of my life: school. Hopefully I can keep that one up.

5 weeks

I honestly can't believe how quickly my time has gone by. I have 5 weeks left. That's it. How is it that the days go by as slow as molasses but the weeks just fly? Time in Ghana is a perplexing thing.

I've actually started finishing classes. My political science class, International Conflict, Conflict Resolution, and Human Rights met for the last time this past Tuesday. Our final however isn't until December 5th. I'm really glad that class is over though. I had such high expectations for it, but it ended up just being the professor dictating essays to us as notes. But such is the British/Ghanaian education system. It all just comes down to a lack of resources. They don't have books, so the professors have to give them text books via notes. It's really frustrating as an American student, but I'm really glad I've been able to experience it because now I can appreciate my learning system that much more.
Next week though, is the official final week of classes. The week following we have what is called Revision Week, which is essentially like reading week. However, some professors will still hold class if they need to make up one or two, and some even will have finals. I myself have my Drumming final sometime during that week. It's really funny how little I've gone to my drumming class due to traveling, sickness, and my internship. But despite that, I can play all 4 parts of the song and it's really enjoyable.

Once Revision Week is over we are hitting the road!My friends and I are trying to plan a couple of excursions to keep ourselves occupied in between finals. First I think we're going to try and make the long trek up north to Burkina Faso. It's going to be quite the journey because it's even farther than Mole National Park, and we thought THAT was long. The following week we're heading to Cote dÍvoire to see Abidijan and the beautiful beaches. Then we'll make our way to Togo for a long weekend or something. That's a really short trip, only about 3 hours to the capital Lome, so it'll be easy to do. Then during our last week here, we're going to try and get the whole group together and spend a couple of nights past Takoradi at the Green Turtle. I have yet to go there, but several people in my program have gone a bunch of times and rave about it. Apparently it's paradise. It's also a really cheap but amazingly beautiful vacation. It will be a great way to spend my last week here with my friends. Not to mention the great tan I'll get.

These next couple of weeks are what I'm really looking forward to. This is what I came to Africa to do. To travel and see things and meet people. Of course I've been doing that here in Ghana with the program and also with my group of friends, but going off on our own is when we have the great times, the hilarious experiences, and I just can't wait for it to happen again.

I know these next 5 weeks are literally going to fly by with the things we have planned. I'll be home before I know it. How bittersweet.

On my knees, begging please...

The sun is blazing. I can feel its rays even through the canopy above me. The sweat from my legs is starting to pool on the chair and I can feel it soaking through my shorts. I’m enjoying my coffee and book despite the heat.

A very handsome young Ghanaian man sits down next to me, unannounced and uninvited.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

“I’m Leah.”

“I’m Justice.”

“Justice, is it? It’s nice to meet you.”

Justice is wearing a pinstriped Oxford shirt, unbuttoned to show a nicely developed and muscular chest, underneath a black blazer and matching trousers.

“Do you have a boyfriend Leah?” He asks bluntly.

“Yes.”

“Are you married to him?”

“No. But we are engaged.” I lie.

“Oh that doesn’t matter.”

“Oh it doesn’t? I think it does.”

Ignoring my question he asks, “So I would like you to go out with me sometime. I want to be your friend. Your forever friend.”

“My forever friend huh? Well I can take your phone number if you like.” I had learned from similar past experiences that it is better to take someone else’s number than give out your own to avoid incessant calls at all hours.

He ignored my offer.

“So where are you from?”

“The United States.”

“Ahh. The States. I want to go there. But I don’t want to live with the bad boys. Wherever they are. I don’t want to be with them.”

“There are bad people everywhere. Why do you want to go to the states?”

“I want to do business. I want to marry an American woman and go into business. How much money do you think I could make in a month?”

“I have no idea. The economy is not very good right now so probably not much. I really don’t know”

“I want to be with you in the United States.”

“With me? No, I’m sorry, I told you, I’m engaged.”

“That doesn’t matter. You are different. I want to be with you.”

“What are you talking about? How am I different? You don’t even know me.”

“I can tell. Just by looking in your eyes I can see the type of person you are. I can see that I should be with you. All these other girls that I am friends with, they are not like you. They are all gold diggers.”

“How do you know I’m not a gold digger? How do you know that my fiancé isn’t filthy rich and I’m just marrying him to get some of his money? You don’t know that, do you?”

He shook his head.

“I’m also not a Christian,” I say. The religion thing usually strikes a chord with Ghanaians. I figure this will probably make him go away.

“You’re not a Christian?” he says, slightly in disbelief, “Well then, what are you?”

“I don’t believe in God.”

I truly thought this one would send him for a whirl. He paused for a moment and said,

“I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you because you are you.”

It’s starting to get really difficult to stifle my laughs.

“I’m a singer you know. I love music. I sing R&B. I rap a little. I can fill an entire book of empty pages with my songs. Do you want to hear me sing?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, but you can’t look at me---don’t look at me!”

I look at the ground.

He sings a couple bars of some R. Kelly slow jam and looks down somewhat embarrassed. He really is very attractive.

“You’re very good. You have a really nice voice.”

“Thank you… So can I please take you out sometime? I would really like to lunch with you, or go somewhere so we could chat.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.”

“That doesn’t matter! You should be with me.”

I shake my head and try not to laugh. This guy sure was persistent.

He grabbed my right hand and saw the ring on my ring finger, automatically assuming it was an engagement ring.

“Engaged huh?”

“Yup. I love him very much.”

Looking disappointed he said,

“I should go. Do you want me to go?”

“I don’t care. You should probably go.”

Without saying goodbye he got up and walked back in the direction he came from. I resumed reading only to feel his hand on my shoulder a mere three minutes later. I turn and look and see him slowly trying to kiss me as he creeps around my chair.

“No! Stop. Don’t do that!” I squirm away from his face closing in on mine.

He sat back down, “Why do you hate me? Is it because I’m black?”

“No! Of course not. The color of your skin has nothing to do with my feelings about you. I already have a boyfriend who I love very much and I am not looking for someone else. And please don’t ever touch me or try and kiss me ever again. That was completely inappropriate and disrespectful to me.”

He looked slightly ashamed after I had reprimanded him. One thing Ghanaian men hate is having their ego deflated.

“Have you ever dated a black man?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because there never have been a lot of black people in my life.”

“Leah, you should be with me. I need to be with you. I am in love with you.” I can hear slight desperation in his voice.”

“No you are not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No Justice.”

“Please…”

He was literally begging me to take him. Part of me seriously wondered how he would react if I actually said ‘yes’.

“No. You seem like a very nice man. But no. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. I already have a boyfriend whom I love very much and that I’m going to marry. I’m sorry. That is that.”

“So are you really a gold digger?”

“I guess you’ll never know”

He smiled and looked down at his shoes.

“I should go.”

“Yes you should.”

As he’s getting up he adds, “Oh wait, let me give you my number.”

“Okay,” I respond, “to be honest, I’m not going to call you, but I’ll take it. Do you still want me to take it?”

He really can’t believe what he’s hearing. He pauses for a moment, then nods. He gives me his phone number, checks to make sure its correct, and sets off.

Now I’ve gotten marriage proposals before, particularly from Ghanaian men, but never have I ever had to deal with such persistence and fervor. Justice really must be desperate for some Oboruni loving for not giving up that easily. I definitely give him points for his gusto and perseverance. It takes a lot to be rejected that many times.

Terribly sorry I've been lacking here, but I've been a busy woman.

This past week I took a little self proclaimed fall break and went to Europe for a week to travel and see Jeff. We met in Amsterdam and stayed there for 3 nights on this cute little boat hostel. We had a tiny little room with two tiny little bunks, but it was a great location and really cool to stay on a boat. They also had delicious breakfast. We then decided to head to Luxembourg for two nights and Brussels for our last night. It was quite the whirlwind of a trip, but I got to see some more cities, and Jeff, so it was fantastic. It wasn't exactly a "vacation" per se, however, I did get a break from the heat and the cockroaches so I think it was a success.

Besides that little European interlude, I've been going to classes and also working at my internship at Self Help Initiative Support Services (SISS).
SISS basically provides skills trainings for people in the slum Agbogbloshie in Accra. These include catering and IT classes, accompained by personal development courses about various topics including fitness, hygiene, etc.
It's been a very frustrating experience so far. There is very little stable leadership and little to no organization. Most of the work we have to do is on our own time, and because I live with a family, I have very little access to internet. Not only that, but we have to figure things out completely on our own. We are told to make a fundraising strategy and a grant proposal and a million other things, yet we have no guidance whatsoever. We are just thrust into the chaos that is Ghana and told to figure it out. Luckily, we interns have eachother, and are working really well together and figuring things out somewhat. We are getting some things done, but they are things one would assume would already be done, especially with years and years of interns past.

We have however gone into the actual slum and it was very overpowering. Just seeing where and how these people live makes you feel so guilty for not doing more. The river of sewage "flowing" down the middle of the slum not only makes me want to vomit, but also to cry for the state of their lives and the little power I have to change it. I felt so much responsibility for these people but just so helpless because my powers are just so small and inconsequential. Even working at SISS doesn't make me feel like I'm really helping them. I know we're providing them with really good skills to help them make a living and get out of the slum, and that is great for long term improvement, but I just wish we could relocate them to a sanitary living space and give them their basic rights. I've just never seen poverty this poor.

People think that the tribes that live in the huts in the rural areas of Africa and other developing countries are poor. And they may be, but on our standards. They don't have electricity and television and high speed internet, but they're living highly sustainable lives where they grow what they need and the community works together to solve their issues. They are not the ones who need help. Urban poverty is so much worse and is in need of so much more. These people have nothing. I witnessed a child pee in the street because there really is nowhere else for him to go. Not to mention that these slums are technically on government land so occasionally the government will randomly invade and burn down or bulldoze establishments. That on top of things is getting these people nowhere.

I know that what SISS is doing is a great step but I really feel like the entire system of Ghana is just screwing everybody over. As I've stated so many times before, Ghana is completely unorganized and chaotic and it echoes throughout every part of this country. It cannot run smoothly and it won't until someone can successfully change the way it is run.
But that is only part of the problem. It is so interwoven and involves so many aspects and different people that because of the chaotic state it is in, I feel like it would be essentially impossible because the chaos has gone too far.

I know it is a very cynical view of the state of Ghana right now, but seeing a slum can really change one's outlook.

On the road again...

I don't think I can begin to describe the epic journey that was last weekend. We decided (we being a group of people doing homestays, comprised of Treza, Kate, Hilary, Julie, Mallory, Lindsey, and myself) to undertake the daunting task of going to Mole National Park, home of wildlife galore. Now, for those of who you don't know Ghana's geography that well (which I expect is most), Mole National Park is about 17 hours northwest of Accra. And that would be 17 hours by bus. It is quite the undertaking for 4 days. We actually began our journey at 4 am friday morning and concluded it on monday night around 8 pm.
This story however cannot be told in a simple blog post. There are too many funny side anecdotes and too many pictures that must accompany the story telling. Thus, I will have to resort to the readers digest version.
So we began our journey with at 4 am planning to catch the 6 am bus to Kumase, about 6 hours north of Accra, in the heart of Ashanti country. However, with some luck, we ended up catching the 4:30 bus and made excellent time. We were also joined by several other CIEE students going north to meet a colony of Jews outside Kumase for Rosh Hoshana.
Once we arrived in Kumase, we realized we missed the STC bus to Tamale. STC is essentially like a charter bus. It's the nicer of the options for transportation. So, we had to go across town to the MetroMass bus station in order to get a bus there. However, this bus is nowhere near as nice as the STC. First of all, it is packed. Some people didn't even have seats. They were sitting on large bags in the aisle. Secondly, there isn't air conditioning. Thirdly, and most importantly, the man behind me decided to transport a chicken with him to Tamale, and store it underneath my seat for the 8 hours we spent on that bus. It slid around so much that it ended up directly between my feet several times. And naturally, on occasion, it would casually peck at my feet and ankles.
After that (somewhat) painful ride, we finally landed in Tamale and found our guest house for the evening. The next morning we got a ride with Frederick who was already taking a trotro (small van/bus that seats up to 20 [usually illegally]) out to Mole. We really thought we caught some luck because the 7 of us had the entire tro tro to ourselves. It was so lovely...

Until it broke down.

So naturally, we got out and pushed. Frederick called his mechanic friend while we were pushing and we heard him say, "Yeah, I'm with a bunch of whites. They're pushing."

About 3 hours and countless amounts of riddles and word games later, our friendly mechanic came to our rescue and got us back on the road. We finally made it to Larabanga (a small village right outside Mole) after the bumpiest ride I've ever encountered. I imagine the Oregon trail to feel something like that 2 hour trotro ride.

When we arrived in Mole, there were just tons of baboons and warthogs hanging around the hotel. That right there made the entire trip for me. They literally were 20 feet away. Every now and then, a small monkey would just dart across the road. It was fantastic.

We went on a river cruise that evening and saw the beautiful overflow of the Volta River. After a hearty meal and a Star (Ghana's favorite beer) we went to bed and rested up for our walking safari the next morning.

James, our faithful guide, took us on a three hour walking tour of the Guinea Savanah where we saw tons of monkeys, warthogs, antelopes, and other various birds and insects. We didn't however, see any elephants, which is what we set out to do.

After our long unsuccessful walk, we ate some breakfast at the hotel. As I was finishing up my coffee, I see a monkey saunter up to our table. Before I know it, he jumped on our table, quickly surveyed the site, and made his way over to my plate where he stole the sugar and marmalade right off of my plate. He was then shooed away by the waitresses. I couldn't believe it. A monkey was literally one foot away from my face, only to steal my food! I luckily snapped a picture just in time.

After breakfast we headed back to Larabanga to try and find a way back to Tamale somehow. The only metromass bus that goes to Tamale leaves once a day at 4:30 am, so we had missed that one. We eventually bargained our way back to Larabanga and then on to Dimongo where we got another tro tro to Tamale, but only after heated debates over a fair price, which ended up not being that fair.

Eventually, we made it back to Tamale and our wonderful guesthouse to get a good nights rest before going home all the way to Accra that monday.

We spent every single day of our trip traveling. There wasn't one single day out of the 4 that we didn't spend on a bus in some form.

Now this is only the abridged version of the story and I'd be happy to give the full account with pictures to anyone who asks.

I can't wait for our next excursion. Cote d'Ivoire maybe? Togo? Who knows!?

Amen.

Religion is a big deal here. If you are a missionary and want to come here and preach the word of God, there really is no point because everyone (essentially) already knows it and would rather be doing the heathen-converting/saving (aka, me). There are evangelical vans that drive around neighborhoods with the sole purpose of blasting sermons. Most CDs for sale are some sort of christian pop or gospel.

I've found that along with the normal getting to know you questions such as, "What is your name?", "Where are you from?" "Where are you staying in Ghana?" etc, also comes "So what church do you belong to?"

Now I personally am not religious. I've never been and I really don't know if I ever will be. But here, when someone finds out that you do not belong to a church, it is quite the shock. Several members of my host family asked me, and actually had me repeat my answer because they were in disbelief.

My family goes to church every Sunday (for the most part) and they even hold a Saturday morning devotion where they gather together in the living room while my host dad reads passages from the bible for them to discuss or they'll sing hymns. Many a Saturday I have been awoken by the basso profondo of my siblings.

Because I'm not a Christian I have been wondering if my family will try and convert me. I've even tried the whole "I'm Jewish" thing. I know it's lying, but many people have told me I totally look the part. Not to mention my name is Leah Glass. Very Jewish.

Anyways, one day when I was walking home from school, I was confronted by a nice, tall man named Joeseph. He was telling me about the Agape Gospel Church that meets on Wednesdays, some Thursdays, and Sundays. That particular day was solely for adoration. They would be dancing and singing to praise the lord. In order to get out of that situation quickly I told him I was Jewish.
"OH! Shalom! That is great! What is your name?" (he appeared to be even more shocked that if I had told him I was a heathen)
"I'm Leah....very Jewish name."
"Oh yes! Leah, from the Bible! Wife of Jacob, sister of Rachel! How great!"
"Mhmm, yeah...right...wife..sister...I know..." I had no idea.
"Well everyone is still invited to our church. You are more than welcome."
Okay, thanks Joeseph...

So I thought the Jewish thing worked. Nope. The next week I was confronted by that same Joseph again.

"Hello, hello...it's Leah right?"
"Uhh, yes..."
"I am Joseph. From the Agape Gospel Church. Remember? Now now, I know you are Jewish, but you could still come to our service. I know you do not believe in Jesus Christ, that he has not come again, but we both worship the same God. You could still come and participate."

Damn it. I really thought I was home free. This time I just made up some excuse about lots of homework and being really busy because I am a student. I think it would be wise for me to find a new route home. Joeseph is probably tracking me.

Note to self:

Cockroaches can fly.

I don't know if this is common knowledge or not, but cockroaches can indeed fly. I found this out just last night as I was going to switch off the light in the bathroom. There, staring at me with his ugly shining eyes, waving his long skinny antenna at me, was a the biggest cockroach I've ever seen. Maybe it wasn't even a cockroach. But it was a disgusting bug that resembles a cockroach and as soon as I was going to try and sneak away quietly to grab my camera to prove to all those in disbelief, he flew away into some dusty, dark corner of the house.
I am never going to leave my door open. I don't think I could stand waking up with that big sucker on my face, trying to get into the dark cavern that is my mouth. When I first thought of Ghana I imagined heat and humitidy. Lots of spicy food and obviously living conditions unlike those of the united states. However, when I pictured those living conditions, bugs were never a part. Maybe it was just my naivete, but they just never crossed my mind.
But now. All I can think of is where they're lurking. The majority of them that I've seen have been in the bathroom, so if I have to hold my pee until I get to the univesity, you know I do it. I hate waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom because I feel that these dark creatures are probably nocturnal.
Now of course, a lot of this information is just what I assume. I really don't know that much about these insects except that they're gross and they weird me out.
And keep in mind that I am not one easily irked by bugs. The spider from Annie Hall wouldn't even cause me to think twice. But these roaches. They're something else. Maybe it's all the movies and tv shows I've seen that have portrayed them with the creepy crawling sound they make. I'm not really sure. All I know is that they can fly, and I will try my best to avoid them at all costs.

Despite the bugs however, Ghana is wonderful. People always ask me "how is your time so far in Ghana" and when I say I love it, they doubt me. Yes it was a little tough the first couple of days, dealing with the culture shock and the homesickness, but I love it now. Everyday is literally, a new adventure. I have learned that I cannot expect too much out of this developing country because the organization that I am used to is just not present. Registering for classes was a scavenger hunt and even after I was officially registered for a course, I didn't know when it was going to be taking place. In fact, I didn't really start most of my classes until the second week of classes because of the lack of organization.

As my host brother Kwabena constantly says, "You need to feel free". I need to just enjoy my time here and not worry about the lack of organization and the constant chaos. I should just do what I want and really make the most of this chaotic but very welcoming country.