Site visit and more

Once again, it’s been a long time since I last wrote and a lot of exciting things have happened since I last made it online. Forgive me, therefore, if I’m somewhat long-winded today. There’s a lot to tell.
I’ll start with the Sunday before last. My host family invited me to a wedding in Koforidua – one of Mame Esi’s nieces was the bride. They wanted me to have a dress made for the occasion, something I was more than happy to do, as I need some formal Ghanaian wear for swearing-in as well. However, because of the financial crunch we’re under, we weren’t paid our allowance the previous week and I didn’t have the money to buy the cloth until the Friday before the wedding. As good as Ghanaian seamstresses are, that’s not enough time to have a nice dress made.
The solution – my family played “dress up the obroni.” I was going to wear the dress I had worn to the Ambassador’s function the first week of training but Mame Esi said it wasn’t formal enough and lent me this fantastic sequined number. I looked absolutely ridiculous but all the old ladies kept on telling me how beautiful it was.
The festivities began at about 6 am. Members of the family traveling from Old Tafo started gathering at our house, eating breakfast and making sure everyone looked nice, from me down to little Kofi. A rented tro then pulled up at about 8 am to ferry us all to Koforidua. I asked what time we would be back, as I had to pack that night for the trip I was leaving on the next day, and Ama said 3 or 4. I shouldn’t have taken this to actually mean 3 or 4, knowing that time is completely relevant when church is involved. But more on that later.
I didn’t realize that weddings could be so traumatic. I thought the church services, which are regularly around three or four hours in length, were bad enough, but add five times as many people and lots of wedding traditions and it was ten times as long. And very, very loud. There was a full two hours of dancing and worship before the bride and groom even arrived. Everything was said in both Twi and Ewe, neither of which I can speak, making the whole thing that much more frustrating. I had no idea what was going on for most of the day. And instead of a billion bridesmaids and one pastor as you might find in an American wedding, there was once maid of honor and TWENTY officiating ministers.
As if I didn’t feel out of place enough, come noon, my sister Emma pulled me out of the church because it was time for me to take my lunch. So even though I wasn’t hungry, she took me across town to get some banku and okra stew and then we sat in this random relative’s house awkwardly for about an hour, watching football and waiting for Mame Esi to call us back to the church. When we eventually got back we sat for another two or three hours of frivolity. After the ceremony was finally over, we boarded the tro again to go to another facility for the refreshment – another couple of hours of formalities, this time with food and drink, and lots of shoving in the line for said food and drinks. It was nearly dark by the time we escaped and when I finally returned I went to Phuong’s house to relax with an ice-cold Fanta before heading back to my house to pack.
The next day after language class we were supposed to have all our bags packed for our site visit. They suggested that we bring as much of our stuff with us as possible because we would have our counterparts with us to help on the trip up to our individual sites. I took everything except for my computer, mandolin, and a few small items. Most of this would get left at my new home when I came back to Old Tafo for the last few weeks of training.
Before heading out for out weeklong site visit, we had a three day workshop with our counterparts and supervisors. We were hosted by the Bunso Cocoa College, not far from Old Tafo. I knew my counterpart was female but I wasn’t expecting the cute little 4’9” lady who walked up to me and introduced herself. Madam Hawa is awesome. Not only does she make me feel tall, but she also reminds me a lot of my host mom. She too is a baker, had a big family, and treats me like her own daughter. And tiny though she is, she was a big help in getting my massive amount of stuff onto the bus to Fufulso.
The workshop itself was torturous. It was primarily meant to help the counterparts understand their role in Peace Corps but we trainees had to sit through the whole thing, even though most of the information was stuff we’d already had drilled into our heads in the past month and a half. But you gotta do what you gotta do. On Thursday morning, we all went our separate ways to visit our new homes for the next two years. Those of us heading to the Tamale area we able to get on the STC bus from Accra (kind of like Greyhound – the high class way to travel in Ghana, complete with air conditioning and Nigerian movies). There were a few delays getting there but I eventually got to Fufulso late that night. Because my village is on the main truck route between Tamale and Kumasi, I was able to have the bus stop for just a moment and let me alight just a few hundred yards from my door. We had to wake my landlord up to let me into my room, where I passed out from the weariness of the road.
The next morning I had my introduction to the village. First order of business was to greet the chief of course. Or chiefs I should say. The community I live in is actually two separate villages that have merged into one – Fufulso and Junction. There are therefore two separate chiefs, both of which I had to greet. I waited for them to assemble their elders, then went with Madam Hawa and my landlord (who is the District Assemblyman for the community) to the Junction chief’s palace followed by the Fufulso chief’s palace (though by palace I mean it was more like a weathered mud-brick compound – we are in Africa after all). Those formalities aside, I was taken to meet the police captain then the school teachers. The teachers we kind enough to allow me access to their personal facilities for the week – my latrine is still under construction so they gave me the key to their latrine at the school for my private use. And so everyone would know they weren’t to use it, they added some words in chalk to the outside of the building – STRICTLY FOR USE BY U.N. PEACE CORP VOLUNTEER ONLY BY ORDER. Subtle, huh? I can’t wait until my latrine is down, so that I won’t have to walk across down and through the school yard to relieve myself.
Other than the lack of a complete latrine, my accommodations are very nice, particularly by Peace Corps standards. Like I said, I live in the Assemblyman’s compound, which is the nicest building in town. I have two rooms and a porch to myself. One room has been furnished as a bedroom and even decorated. I have the most fantastic color scheme going on – green walls, a blue floor, and bright pink sheets on the bed. So wonderfully colorful. I’m going to have to replace the curtains – I’m not digging the laciness as much as the rest of the room. The other room is a blank canvas. I’m going to make it my living room/kitchen. The carpenter was supposed to visit me while I was there but didn’t make it before I left. I want to have him make me a couch and some shelves, so I have somewhere to put the ten million books/manuals that PC has given us since we’ve been here, as well as a place for my clothes. My only problem right now is how to get the two-year-old daughter of my landlord to stop screaming in terror every time she sees me.
The water situation in my village is pretty bad. Several NGOs have tried to put in boreholes, but without success. The water table is too deep or something along those lines. Most people use hand-dug wells in the wet season, but these dry up pretty quickly and not long into the dry season, the sole source of water is the dam, favorite hiding place of guinea worm and other fantastic diseases and parasites. Madam Hawa told me that the year before last, even the dam dried up by the end of the dry season and the people where forced to go all the way to Yapei to fetch water. So I’m going to have my hands full here. The beautiful tin roof at the school looks perfect for a rainwater collection system. The only one I’ve seen in town is the one at my house – my landlord built a giant concrete collection tank in the middle of the courtyard. It’ll hold about 50 barrels (about 2800 gallons?) – more than enough for the needs of myself, my landlord, and his wife and child. Let me put this into a little perspective for you. Everything you take a dump, the flush of your toilet uses at least a couple of gallons. Some older toilets will use as much as 6 or 7. The average Ghanaian uses about a bucket a day. Even as a heavy water user by Ghanaian standards, unless I’m doing wash I rarely use more than 2 buckets, or about 8 gallons. And I take two baths a day.
The one semi-productive thing I did while at site was to visit a village with Maria and several of the Carter Center volunteers to do a Guinea Worm program one night. We drove two hours into the bush until we got to this tiny village that is still having trouble with the worm. It was nice to get to know some of the people I’ll be working with. Maria is the only other PCV in my district and because she’s only about 15 km from me, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.
I can’t wait until I have my kitchen set up. The food situation was absolutely ridiculous this week. Because I didn’t have anyway to cook for myself while I was visiting, Madam Hawa wanted to make sure I was eating. So even though the Assemblyman’s wife was cooking me breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Madam kept make me lunch and dinner too. Now I like Ghanaian food, but not so much that I want to eat five meals a day. But when someone goes to the trouble to pound fufu for you, you are obliged to eat it. I’m pretty sure I gained about 10 pounds in the few days I was there. Bleh.
I didn’t really do much while I was there – just met a bunch of people whose names I can’t remember and started the slow process of finally settling in somewhere. I even set up my hammock on the porch. The about halfway through my visit, I came to the conclusion that it kind of rocks having two chiefs. One of the Fufulso elders came by one even with a giant bag and a rooster, saying “Chief said to bring you these yams and this cock.” It was a beautiful rooster and looked very tasty too. I thanked him for his welcome gift and was only sitting a few minutes before one of the Junction elders arrived, also with a bundle of yams and another rooster. After all, two cocks are better than one (sorry Granny, I couldn’t resist being obscene – it’s better to giggle as I type this than to laugh when someone hands me such an expensive gift). Madam Hawa’s son slaughtered one of them for my dinner the last night I was there, then killed and smoked the other one to take with me on the trip back to Old Tafo.
Instead of taking the STC bus (which is after all expensive), we decided to be economical and take tros to get back to Old Tafo. We didn’t want to get in late (and technically aren’t supposed to travel at night until after the election), so we only traveled as far as Kumasi on Tuesday, spent the night at the KSO (Kumasi Sub Office, which beats the socks off the Tamale Sub Office in terms of comfort and cleanliness), and continued on to Old Tafo in the morning. We even had a chance to get hamburgers while we were in Kumasi. While there were only 9 of us coming from the Northern Region, the PCTs from Upper East and Upper West were also staying at the KSO that night, so we were able to hire a whole tro to take us home. We got a great price.
Unfortunately for me, I was sick when I woke up on Wednesday morning. Yay for the flu! Diarrhea and a high fever = horrible companions on a three hour tro ride. By the time I got home, my temperature was 102.5. Tylenol brought that down a little but it was a horrible 24 hours.
I’m feeling much better this morning. My stomach is still a little funky but the fever is gone, relieving my fears that it was malaria. I can now look forward to tonight’s festivities. We’re having a Thanksgiving potluck at the hub office. That means it’s time for me to go now – I have 45 apples in my room, waiting to be peeled and made into pies. It rocks having a baker as a host mom! Happy Thanksgiving!

On making it through another week

Another long week has passed. It’s been quite a drama-filled week too. The first trainee to go home left this week. I’m not going to go into the details – we’re all pretty bummed to see him go. The moral of his tale is don’t get involved with members of your host family. I think I’ll just leave it at that.
The other major issue I had to deal with this week was the lack of funds in the Peace Corps coffers. The budget for Peace Corps/Ghana has not been increased in several years, despite inflation and the rising cost of food and transportation. So when PC needs to give us our weekly allowance, the cash is not always there. We were supposed to get paid last Friday but no money was sent up from Accra. We ended up having to wait until this Friday to get our $2/day. Now, I know we’re supposed to be living near the poverty line and all, but I find it incredibly irritating that they just didn’t give us anything at all for an entire week. Luckily we get our meals for free during training. But there are other expenses that simply can’t be avoided. Take toilet paper. One roll is 40 pesawas (100 pesawas=1 cedi). That’s more than the cost of a taxi to New Tafo. So when I found myself facing the choice of either getting to the Hub Office to maybe get paid or buying something soft with which to wipe, it was difficult to decide. It’s a good thing I had a lot of notebook paper lying around.
On the plus side, Marion and Alan returned yesterday. Marion’s mother passed away unexpectedly a few weeks ago, so PC sent her home for two weeks. Her husband Alan went with her. They confirmed their awesomeness by bringing freshly baked cookies and several newspapers and magazines with them when they returned. Marion said she’d help me with baking the pies for our Thanksgiving potluck (since I live with the baker, I’m lucky enough to have access to an oven). I think we’re going to go with chicken instead of turkey, since turkeys are so expensive and we’re all broke. There has been talk of a roast pig though - one of the environment volunteers is staying with a pig farmer. Of course, that may just be wishful thinking.
Monday we’ll be meeting our counterparts, who are coming to town for a workshop. Then we’ll all go with them to our individual sites. I’m planning on taking as much of my stuff as possible with me, as I’ll have my counterpart to help me. After that, there’s just two weeks more of training before we swear in. Fun times.
Okay, I have to go to Addo Nkwanta now – the environment PCTs are having a cross-sector demonstration for us. As we say in Gonja, “To, kamanto!” (“We’ll meet again!”).

PS – Here’s a funny anecdote I have to share. I was walking down the path with one of the Ghanaian trainers when she says to me, “Wow, look at that huge cock!” She was of course speaking of the big rooster standing on a porch nearby, but I couldn’t help but laugh on hearing these words come from an elderly woman’s mouth.

The Field Trip Fiasco, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Dirt Roads

It’s been an exciting few weeks for me. After a busy week of more language and more technical training, Halloween kind of snuck up on us. We had intended to have a big party, with costumes and more, but the following morning we would have to be on a bus at 5.30 to head north for our sector-specific field trip. We had to settle for a couple of hours at our favorite local spot, with a few impromptu costumes thrown in (and lots of funny looks from the few non-Americans who happened to be there).
The big story I have to tell is that of the field trip itself. We’re now halfway through training and the Peace Corps wanted each sector to travel together to get some more hands-on practice amongst current volunteers. The Environment crew head to the Upper West region, while SED (Small Enterprise Development) went to a site not far from Kukurantumi in the Lower Volta. WATSAN however is a larger group and is somewhat divided from within between those assigned to the Northern Region to on work primarily on Guinea Worm Eradication (that’s me) and those going to the Nkwanta District in Upper Volta to work more closely on Health and Hygiene. We therefore divided into two groups for field trip, with those of us assigned to the north going to a site not far from Tamale and the others going to Nkwanta.
The problem with this plan was that WATSAN had the same budget as the other two sectors even though we were doing two separate trips. We were told we would have to make due with just one car for both groups as Peace Corps couldn’t afford to give us two. Here’s the thing – while if you look at a map, it’s technically shorter mileage wise to go from Kukurantumi to Tamale through the Volta Region than it is to go through Kumasi, the roads in Upper Volta are ABSOLUTE SHIT. It actually ends up taking a lot longer to go through the Volta, unless you have a private car. We were in a privately hired tro, but not one that was equipped to handle dirt roads of this level. But we had to go this way anyway, so that we could drop off the Nkwanta group before heading farther north.
When Martin (are technical trainer) gave us the schedule for the trip, I laughed. He had us scheduled to arrive in Tamale at 4 pm. Having already traveled in the Nkwanta training during Vision Quest, I knew that it would take AT LEAST seven or eight hours just to get to Nkwanta, and that was only halfway. Even though we left close to on time on Saturday morning, we didn’t get to Nkwanta until about 3 or 3.30. We had taken way too much time to eat lunch in Hohoe due to Martin’s insistence that we eat at a restaurant instead of a chop bar (Ghanaian fast food). After we dropped the others, we continued on towards Tamale, covered in dust already and getting hungry again. What we didn’t know was that we wouldn’t arrive in Tamale until 10 pm, and it was another hour from there to get to the place we’d be staying the night. Let me just say that traveling down dirt roads late at night is not a pleasant experience, no matter where you are.
I had a cool person sitting next to me for most of the ride – Sub Chief Larry, one of my new neighbors once I get to site. He’s an older volunteer, working as a SED PCV in Daboya, northwest of Tamale. Because he’s older and male, he gets a lot more respect from his community that I can ever hope to get. They even went so far as to enstool him as a sub chief. He’s also one of the few PCVs who has studied Gonja, so we talked about that and my extensive plans for cooking once I have a place to set up a kitchen. I get the impression he’ll be visiting me a lot after all the tasty meals I described. How many of you can say that you’ve entertained royalty?
Anyway, by the time we reached Tamale, we were all orange from the dust, absolutely starving, and ready to pass out. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stop at the Tamale Sub Office (TSO) – all the sleeping mats had already been moved to Mike’s site (where we’d be staying) and our meal had already been paid for and prepared by his Assemblyman’s wife. We had to continue. Back on the bus we went and a little over an hour later we finally pulled in for the night. After we got some cold TZ in our bellies (think really thick grits smushed into balls and eaten with peanut soup) and actual showers thanks to Mike’s polytank, we sprawled out in his courtyard with a couple of mosquito coils and called it a night.
The actual bulk of the trip was pretty cool. We spent time with a few different volunteers, helping with their projects and seeing their sites. We played a football (soccer) match against the town team at Shawn’s site as part of an AIDS education thing, but Martin had failed to mention we’d be playing, so we had to play in our Chacos. I wiped out at one point, much to the delight of the three hundred some-odd children standing along the sidelines. We also learned a lot about the Guinea Worm projects, even taking samples of the dam water in Savelugu and going house to house inspecting and replacing filters. We spent the last day at Johnnie’s site, which is somewhat close to my own (which I’ve yet to see).
We tried working out someway we could go home by a different route, but another vehicle could not be found (or, more likely, they just didn’t want to pay for one). We HAD to go back the way we’d come to get the others. Instead of staying at Johnnie’s site again like we were supposed to on our last night, we headed to the TSO after dinner, so that we could get a head start and leave at 4.30 on Wednesday morning. (We also had the slight ulterior motive of wanting to be at the TSO so we’d be able to look up election results on the computer as they came in). We ended up passing out pretty early though, since we knew we’d have a long day on Wednesday. Inez called me at 3 am to give me the news about Obama (woohoo) and the day began with a slight boast, a boast that was soon shot down by many long hours of bumpy, dusty roads. About 2 hours in, the clutch on the tro started going out, and every time we stopped to let someone pee in the bush, it would take us 20 minutes to get going again. As we had discovered the previous evening, the vehicle was actually infested with cockroaches – the little baby ones that are so annoying were crawling over everything, including our legs. I didn’t know that cockroaches bite but these ones did. Eck. The similarity to Little Miss Sunshine was striking, as the bus was yellow and our crew a motley one. Fortunately, unlike the movie, we had no dead grandfather to deal with – just a bunch of very irritated Peace Corps Trainees, including one slightly OCD nurse.
By the time we limped into Nkwanta, I thought people were going to strangle Martin (he had stayed behind with the Nkwanta group while Braimah went north with us). We stopped at the guesthouse the others had been staying at while the driver (the poor guy who’d been with us the whole time) went to “fix” the clutch. No amount of caffeinated beverages or cookies could make us feel better. Then JJ had a brilliant idea – why not turn the last half of the ride into a celebration?! Just as any celebration in Ghana isn’t complete without the traditional pouring of libations, so was our trip in complete without libations of our own. Mixing gin and tampico (think Sunny D) in a nalgene bottle and passing it around amongst the group may not sound very good to you; it might even sound nauseating. But to us, it was heavenily. And more importantly, it allowed us to indure the final leg of our journey – dust, roaches, and all. Because we decided not to stop for meals, instead buying food on the road along the way, we made it back to Old Tafo in slightly less time than it had taken to get to Tamale. After leaving at 4.30, I finally got back to my house at 9.30 in the evening. I’ve never seen my host mom’s eyes so big. The first thing she said to me after “Welcome Home!” was “I will get you water for your bath.” I was absolutely disgusting. It took me several hours to wash all the clothing the next morning, even with help from my sister (who was nice enough to even wash my backpack and pack pillow for me). I almost feel human again today.
I decided to forgo going to Koforidua with the group today. A bunch of people wanted to visit the Bead Market that is held there every Thursday. I had found time to go last week, so I didn’t really feel up to it. I did however get Kymberly to look for some earring for me, to match the new Ghanaian dress I just had made by Consuelo’s host mom.
A note on beads. One of the things women do with beads here is tie strings of the little ones around the waist. I’ve heard someone say that one reason is to keep track of weight, a reason I believe, especially when I see that every small child is wearing a string or two. But the interesting things about waist beads is that they are part of foreplay for Ghanaian women. Having waist beads exposed is somewhat similar to showing your thong in America. Good girls just don’t do it. As my host mom said to me, “Only let your husband see your beads.”
I bought a few strings when I was at the market last week. They were very cheap and most are beautiful. Being the UTD nerd that I am, however, I couldn’t resist buying a string of orange and green waist beads. Gotta have a little school spirit every now in then.
Okay, now I have to go prepare for tomorrow. Phuong and I are giving a presentation on Ghanaian pop music. Time to make a playlist….

A Blank Spot in the Road

In our language class yesterday, we learned words and phrase to use in the market. "How much is this yam? That is too expensive, reduce the price. Please give me a little extra." etc. The topic also included colors (though we only really learned four - apparently we don't need more than for colors to make it in Ghana) - red (peper), black (lembir), green (fitiri-bunjbunj), and white (fuful). As Braimah (my language teacher) said the word for white, I started giggling. I suddenly understood the root of my village's name - Fufulso literally means the "white place." Or As Braimah put it, the place without color. I'm going to be spending two years living in the blank spot in the road. That's what I get for telling my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director - my boss when it comes to WATSAN) that I want to be placed somewhere pretty. But I'm excited - I'm close to lots of good places, and more importantly, lots of friends.
We're going on a field trip this Saturday. We're going based on sector and assignment, so all the WATSANers that are assigned to the north are going to the Northern Region together for a week. We'll spend some time at a volunteer's site, helping with a few things and seeing some more of the country, then we'll head back to Old Tafo for a few weeks before we go on our individual site visits to our villages.
Even though we're leaving at dawn on Saturday, the fact that Friday is Halloween has not escaped us. We're planning on having a cross sector get-together of some kind, including costumes and maybe even a little trick-or-treating. Why not - our homestay families already think we're insane.
Happy happy birthday to my big sister, Emily. I have to head back to Old Tafo for my lunch.

First Aerogramme from Ghana

A MOST BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HANNAH!!!!!!

October 25, 2008

I just got Hannah's letter dated Oct 9th.....so here it is transcribed ...

Dear Friends
I just got back from what the Peace Corps calls my "vision quest". I travelled to a current volunteers site for a few days visit, to see what life is like in a village. It was so great to have at least a little freedom,even if it was brief. I had a lot of fun with my host, Sarah. It helped that I brought my M&M's and beef jerky, along with my mad cooking skills. She lives in Tutukpene, a town in the Nkwanta District of the Volta Region.
I wish I could live in Tutukpene too-it's nestled at the base of a mountain and there is lots of good "chop" (fast food Gana style) available. And though Nkwanta is "isolated" because travel is so difficult in the district, the volunteer sites are relatively close to one another and they work together a lot. There may not be electricity and internet and phones are hard to come by, but
I would love living there for two years.
I am supposed to have my site placement interview today or tomorrow to determine where I'll be. We're now at our training site in Kukurantumi. I move in with my host family on Saturday and on Monday I find out where I'll be sent once I finish training in December. Everything is going so fast but I wish it would move faster still. I am ready to go to work!
Though I don't know what language I have to learn for my site, I have been practicing Twi for travel purposes (and so that if I do get to go to Nwanta, I'll have a head start). My favorite phrase so far is "Yemfre me obroni; yefre me Hannah" ..."My name is not white lady, my name is Hannah".
The little kids are so cute when they try to get an "obroni's" attention (Obroni literally means "one from over the sea"), but it is sometimes frustrating . They are usually happy if I just wave back- if I speak Twi to them it makes their day. By the end of my stay with "Ama Olila" ( Sarah's
Ghanaian name) the kids in Tutukpene knew me as Sister Hannah and would call to me
wherever I went. I have run out of room now and time....the Fufu has arrived!
So for now, "Yo Meeks!" Hannah

The first post from Old Tafo

I think I’m going to have to admit failure – at this point, I don’t think the “proxy blogging” thing is working out too well. In theory it’s a great idea, but in practice it’s a bit annoying. While I like sending letters to people, the postal system (both Ghanaian and American) is too slow for the kind of information sharing I normally do with my blog. The letter I sent to be posted two weeks ago still hasn’t made it onto the blog. And though my access to the internet is erratic, I can access it. The proxy blogging idea was more of a contingency plan for if I got placed somewhere without any internet access at all. I wasn’t sure until last week where I would be sent within Ghana and therefore how easy it would be to get online. But now that I know where I’m going, the situation is a bit different. Ultimately, it’s cheaper for me to post to the blog myself – it’s 1.40 Ghana Cedis (GH¢) to send a letter to the states, while it’s usually about .60 per hour at an internet café. When I’m only making 6 cedis a day, that’s a lot of money. I guess I should back up a bit and share the letter that I was going to send to Kathe to post for me so that I can bring you up to date…
“Dear Friends,
It has been an exciting few days, full of ups and downs and in between times as well. After months of waiting, I finally found out where I’ll be going once training is over in December. I’ve been assigned to the village of Fufulso (a.k.a. Damango Junction). It is in the Northern Region, about 30 minutes west of Tamale. I couldn’t have asked for a better location. Only 30 minutes from the PC sub office (and therefore free internet) and right on the main truck route between Tamale and Kumasi. I’m also only about 2 hours from Mole National Park, one of the biggest game reserves in West Africa. And, joy of joys, there are quite a few of us clustered around Tamale – so lots of friends to hang out with and bounce ideas off of. I won’t be without some challenges of course. I don’t have electricity at my site. I’ll also have to use either the dam or a stream for my water – my village doesn’t have any boreholes (the safest source of water in rural areas) due to its geological profile. But that is why I’m here – to figure out how to make situations like this work. I think the rainwater collection guide I brought will come in handy very soon.
Because I now know where I’ll be going, I’ve had to switch language classes. No more Twi for me (as much as my host family wants to speak it to me). I’m on to Gonja now (and no, it’s not pronounced like ganga – it’s pronounced GOOn-ja). My language teacher, Braimah, is a lot of fun and after only a few sessions, I can already greet people, introduce myself, and ask for my favorite Ghanaian dishes to eat.
I like the village we’re staying in for training. It’s not very big but it has everything I need. Except internet (but I can take a car to New Tafo for that if I get desperate). I still feel really awkward living with a family and having every hour of every day dictated for me. It was really tough this week, as my “little brother” Kofi contracted malaria and had to spend three nights in the hospital. Seeing a two-year-old get a blood transfusion is so sad. He’s back home though and healthy enough to be playing on my porch as I write and listen to music.
We’re getting ready to celebrate birthdays on Monday. Four of us share October 20th as a birthday so it’s going to be fun. I hope I don’t have a repeat of the Russian birthday party from a few years ago.
I also bought a cell phone this week, so that’s the best way to get more details on my adventure (011-233-242660968). I have so much to talk about and so little time. But life is good and I’m loving it here. Especially when the sun goes down, the temperature drops, and I have time to reflect on each wonderful day that has passed.
Until next time,
Hannah”
So I will have semi-regular access to internet (depending how often I make it to Tamale – but I’d have to go there to post letters anyway). Right now it’s kind of a pain to post stuff to the blog, as I have to go to another town to do it and on my own dime (during training, we only get 2GH¢ a day too – that’s only a little over $2). But it’s far cheaper to spend a few pesawas (100 pesawas=1 Ghana cedi) on getting online than an entire 1.40Gh¢ sending a letter that might make it on the blog within a month if I’m lucky.
I had a fantastic birthday celebration. The others I share a birthday with were all in different towns as we’re all in different sectors and therefore split up for most of training. I told my host family that I wanted to cook for my birthday. They humored be and let me use the kitchen after class on Monday. By the time my “chili” was done however, they had set a table and gathered quite a crowd for the greatest birthday party I’ve ever had. Only a few of my American friends were there, as I had no idea my family was going to go to such links to make me feel special on my birthday. We a great time. My host mom even baked me a heart-shaped cake! Let me just add, living with a baker is awesome. My brother Samuel borrowed a stereo from somebody and for an hour we alternated seamlessly between really loud gospel music and really obscene rap. After my “dance party” was over, the five of us Americans headed to a spot (in Ghana, bars are referred to as spots) to have a beer with some of the others. All in all, a great end to a great day.
At my dad’s request, I set up the skype account like I had it set when I was in Russia. Now, if you call 512-377-1987, it goes to my skype account and is then forwarded to my Ghanaian cell phone. Free for you and cheap for me. I love technology.
Before I go, let me list a few things I’ve learned to do this past week:
-Carry a baby on my back with only a “two-yard” (a piece of fabric)
-Pound fufu (a Ghanaian dish made from either boiled yam or boiled plantains and cassava mixed together)
-Construct a pit latrine (though I haven’t practiced this yet)
I also got complimented on my laundry technique by an old Ghanaian lady. I guess all that hand washing I did in Russia has finally paid off. If only my clothes would stay clean for more than five minutes – stupid humidity.
That’s all for now. Tune in next week for more.

Hannah's postcard

The very first missive from Hannah has arrived-and she also called just a few days
ago and we had a nice very quick phone call! Here's both sides of the postcard....
Ta Dah!