Monday
Broom Making
Solo and I were walking through Adenkrebi one night when we saw some kids kneeling in the dirt with a pile of palm fronds in the middle. They explained they were making brooms. Solo and I stopped to help by stripping palm leaves to get the hard middle part. We then tied the tough middle parts together for the broom. It was a good skill for me to learn. I never knew how they were made before that.
EPI - Katapor MGR Installation
The November 2009 Katapor merry-go-round installation was pretty great.
The community got together and cleared the land with their machetes, dug a trench for the electric cables, put a small hole in the wall of the school for the cord to go through, etc. They had also prepared songs and dances and a loooooooooong presentation for us.
Solomon and the village chief and I cut the tape on the merry-go-round and uncovered it. A girl dressed in traditional clothing presented us with the scissors with white ribbon around it. For the dance, they did this traditional funky chicken dance type of thing... then the headmaster pulled me out of my seat to join in with them, which got them really riled up! Then I got Matthew and the film crew to join in. It was awesome.
Village Concert Piano Performance
The Adenkrebi hene (chief) had an old electric keyboard plugged into a car battery. Chiefs are very important in village culture and I think he wanted Solomon (the Ghanaian Country Director) and I to know that. We sat in the dirt while he played us a few songs, clad in full traditional chief clothing. He didn't read music or have any concept of chords. He dramatically pounded keys in random rhythms and combinations. Solo and I had a hard time maintaining our composure, but we managed to pull it together to solemnly clap at the end of each song.
Koni Kablu Kids - White Crystals from the Sky
I'm in love with the village of Koni Kablu. They all call me "Sister Sarah" at that school and they all remembered me in Nov 2009 from my April 2009 trip.
Apart from the awesome World Mahp experience, I've had other fun interactions with the kids. I played "Draw the Man" with them. (I thought "Hangman" was too violent.) I also taught them some songs like "The Princess Pat," "Let Me See Your Bugaloo," "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes," "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," "London Bridge," and their favorite "A Rigabamboo." It was sweet.
"Once there was a Snowman" was interesting to teach them because they have never seen snow or even pictures of snow. I told them white, fluffy crystals fall from the sky and pile up on the ground, and you can gather the crystals and make a small white house to play in. I don't think they believed me.
Trotro Adventures
A trotro is a van used for public transportation. There's a driver, a "mate" who takes your cash, and then as many people packed shoulder-to-shoulder as can possibly fit in one van. I liked taking them in part because I was a novelty - there was never another white person in a trotro with me - so people would be very inquisitive about my business and I was able to ask them a lot of questions.
During one ride I was just sitting in the back, crammed up against a few stranger's shoulders, when I heard a bleat. I looked under my seat. There were two goats being transported along with us. And as I learned from personal experience, trotros don't stop for goats with full bladders. That was about a two-hour ride.
I feel like part of Ghanaian culture is getting up in everybody's business. On a particular trotro ride, a woman was speaking on her cell in Twi. Suddenly everybody (strangers, mind you) on the bus got agitated and started yelling in Twi. Some were yelling directly into her phone. I asked the man next to me what was going on, and he said, "she told the person she was going south, but she is going north. We are telling him she is lying." Can you imagine if something similar had happened on a subway in New York City? While it was funny, I really hoped she wasn't trying to escape a DV situation or something.
This one didn't happen to me, but it was in the news. There was a man on a trotro who opened a Coke, slipped a pill into it, and offered the woman next to him a sip. She declined. He asked her several more times, more forcefully. She continued to refuse. Eventually, the other people in the trotro told him to stop trying to make her drink it and to drink it himself. I guess the peer pressure was too great, because he did. And it knocked him out cold. For two days. They drove the trotro to a police station, and he woke up behind bars. Sometimes getting up in everybody's business turns out to be a good thing.
During one ride I was just sitting in the back, crammed up against a few stranger's shoulders, when I heard a bleat. I looked under my seat. There were two goats being transported along with us. And as I learned from personal experience, trotros don't stop for goats with full bladders. That was about a two-hour ride.
I feel like part of Ghanaian culture is getting up in everybody's business. On a particular trotro ride, a woman was speaking on her cell in Twi. Suddenly everybody (strangers, mind you) on the bus got agitated and started yelling in Twi. Some were yelling directly into her phone. I asked the man next to me what was going on, and he said, "she told the person she was going south, but she is going north. We are telling him she is lying." Can you imagine if something similar had happened on a subway in New York City? While it was funny, I really hoped she wasn't trying to escape a DV situation or something.
This one didn't happen to me, but it was in the news. There was a man on a trotro who opened a Coke, slipped a pill into it, and offered the woman next to him a sip. She declined. He asked her several more times, more forcefully. She continued to refuse. Eventually, the other people in the trotro told him to stop trying to make her drink it and to drink it himself. I guess the peer pressure was too great, because he did. And it knocked him out cold. For two days. They drove the trotro to a police station, and he woke up behind bars. Sometimes getting up in everybody's business turns out to be a good thing.
African Albinos
And I'm not talking about myself, though I have been told by some Africans that I am African on the inside.
Meeting a few representatives from the Society for the Albinos opened my eyes to a number of issues going on throughout the continent. Basically, albinos are not only often ostracized, but they are also being killed by middlemen of witch doctors, who believe certain albino body parts can be mixed into potions and make people rich.
Very sad.
Here is a video about social shunning of albinos: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKn3dNAJ7j8
And here are a few articles about the killings:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7518049.stm
http://www.modernghana.com/news/207231/1/albino-killing-craze-stares-at-ghana.html
Sunday
Sinapi Aba Trust
One of my favorite NGOs to visit was Sinapi Aba Trust. They are a microcredit group, and I was able to attend one of their solidarity meetings. It was fun to actually witness how they have to work together to cover each other in the event that a member of the group doesn't turn a profit, and how they are incentivized to help other's businesses succeed. I would have liked to interview them individually, but that didn't happen. It was a community affair - pretty much everybody showed up, they sang, prayed, and split into their groups. Really awesome crowd.
You can see Sinapi Aba's website here.
Country Premiere - Amazing Grace
Hanging out with the MPA study abroads was hilarious. I think only two of us had been to Africa before, and I was the only one who had been for an extended period of time, so it was funny watching their reactions to typical West African events we participated in.Like this one - It was the country premiere of the movie "Amazing Grace" at the National Theater. We thought we'd check it out. It was a big deal, especially because of being on that side of the slave trade. They rolled out a red carpet, had a professional come in to take photos of those attended, and everyone was dressed to the nines in traditional clothing (except us American hippies who came in our jeans). The theater was spacious and beautiful.
The event began with previews projected from another DVD - really old previews. Then they hooked up a reel and the movie started about an hour and a half later than it was supposed to. First, there was no volume, so after about five minutes of that they started it over. Next, the volume was off by about five seconds, so after about ten minutes of that, they started it over. By this time, some of the American students were really complaining. They finally announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are pleased to say that the movie had now been rewound... by hand." Everybody clapped. Then the movie started, with volume and video synced.
However, it soon became clear by the presence of microphones dangling over the actor's heads that we did not have the final (and probably not a legal), version. My favorite was the big, fuzzy mic that came down into the foreground in several shots. It was just hilarious to me. Not really atypical. None of the Ghanaians were complaining.
After the movie was over, a beautiful Ghanaian girl came out in an evening gown and sang "Amazing Grace." It was fabulous.
Saturday
Study Abroad Photos
I went on a study abroad with BYU MPA and MBA students in 2007. It was my first time in Ghana. We mostly hung out with other Americans, and stayed in air-conditioned dorms and traveled in an air-conditioned bus. It was a lot more tourist-learning than actually getting to know and love the people, and I didn't get the sense of living in Ghana like I did a year later while living with a Ghanaian family, but it was still fun. Plus it paved the way for my job with EPI and next four trips to Ghana!
Above: Mary, a fisherman's daughter. Taught me the skip game. Below: Drum making
Cape Coast
New Life Orphanage
Canopy walk - my friend Jodie.
With Kofi, our bus driver.
With some of our trainees.
EPI - Documentary Creation
My November trip was to take the BYU film crew to make the documentary. It was a lot of fun. We installed a merry-go-round at the rural school of Katapor, and visited the four other rural public schools (leaving Essam out of the picture because of how unpredictably rainy it was and how Essam was three hours away).
The film crew was delightful, and apart from a few small things (the focus child being too shy to talk to the camera, the van rental ending up being more expensive than budgeted for, and typical time issues), things went really well! We spent most of our time in the rural villages, and one day at the shop. We also took them to Cape Coast to see El Mina and do the canopy walk at Kakum.
It has aired several times on BYU-TV, even between general conference sessions! Good news for the NGO - and helped raise a bit of money too.
It was kind of weird watching it - it seemed so exotic that I almost forgot I was there watching all the filming and lived there for six months!
You can watch it here: http://byutv.org/watch/a7396421-c8e4-4f0d-900f-b611b4322fab
The film crew was delightful, and apart from a few small things (the focus child being too shy to talk to the camera, the van rental ending up being more expensive than budgeted for, and typical time issues), things went really well! We spent most of our time in the rural villages, and one day at the shop. We also took them to Cape Coast to see El Mina and do the canopy walk at Kakum.
It has aired several times on BYU-TV, even between general conference sessions! Good news for the NGO - and helped raise a bit of money too.
It was kind of weird watching it - it seemed so exotic that I almost forgot I was there watching all the filming and lived there for six months!
You can watch it here: http://byutv.org/watch/a7396421-c8e4-4f0d-900f-b611b4322fab
Volta Region
The Volta region is beautiful! I went there for the first time during my November trip. The main attractions were a lot of Diana monkeys (WAY cuter than the monkeys in Botswana), and a hike through the jungle to a beautiful waterfall. Ahhh.... I fed bananas to the monkeys, too! They ate it right out of my hand.
There's not much more I can say than it was beautiful to get out of Accra and into nature.
Oh, there was a lady selling rice and chicken out of her house near the waterfall. When I asked how much it was, of course she told me it was three times the cost of what it is for Ghanaians. I went to hang out with the van driver, who was also eating. He informed me I was overcharged and demanded of the woman that she give me the meal for the same price. Then I played with a bunch of village boys. They started out picking on me, trying to pull my hair and touch me and make fun. So I pulled a Jackie Chan on them and they thought it was hilarious. They didn't speak English at all, so we interacted through sparring. Then I gave them all a few cents. I think they ended up liking me, and somewhat confused.
Grandpa had fallen behind, as Matthew and I had gotten back from the waterfall much faster than the rest of the group, so I purchased a flashlight since it had gotten completely dark since we had returned. Matthew ran back to rescue them.
It was a good day. :-)
There's not much more I can say than it was beautiful to get out of Accra and into nature.
Oh, there was a lady selling rice and chicken out of her house near the waterfall. When I asked how much it was, of course she told me it was three times the cost of what it is for Ghanaians. I went to hang out with the van driver, who was also eating. He informed me I was overcharged and demanded of the woman that she give me the meal for the same price. Then I played with a bunch of village boys. They started out picking on me, trying to pull my hair and touch me and make fun. So I pulled a Jackie Chan on them and they thought it was hilarious. They didn't speak English at all, so we interacted through sparring. Then I gave them all a few cents. I think they ended up liking me, and somewhat confused.
Grandpa had fallen behind, as Matthew and I had gotten back from the waterfall much faster than the rest of the group, so I purchased a flashlight since it had gotten completely dark since we had returned. Matthew ran back to rescue them.
It was a good day. :-)
EPI - Accra Beach
The film crew wanted some entertainment/scenic ocean scenes to film, so Solomon took us all to a public beach near Accra. This was nothing like Kokorobite or Busewa. This was an Accra beach with a crowded village near the shore.
We got out and the smell was overpowering. There was garbage and human waste everywhere. There was a trench filled with brownish-black water, but fortunately there was a log going across it. We walked across the log. Then some men gathered around us and bullied us to give them money since we had walked across the log. There were nine or ten of them. White faces certainly attract a lot of attention in a place like that. Our cameraman decided not film the water there because of how the villagers were acting.
We went to another nearby beach hoping to not be bullied this time. The cameraman, Josephine (my Ghanaian friend), and myself were the only ones that got out of the van because of the mixed strong smell between garbage, waste, and fish. There were some fishermen preparing their nets and canoes who were friendly and let us talk to them (one, of course, proposed to me). They were very friendly. There was a pipe from a factory running straight into the ocean, gushing out large quantities of black oil. There was a little boy doing handstands next to pipe.
All in all, not my favorite experience. It left me wondering what can be done to clean up these Accra beaches. Ghana could really be a great place for tourists if the beaches were cleaner (though other beaches further away from Accra are absolutely gorgeous).
We got out and the smell was overpowering. There was garbage and human waste everywhere. There was a trench filled with brownish-black water, but fortunately there was a log going across it. We walked across the log. Then some men gathered around us and bullied us to give them money since we had walked across the log. There were nine or ten of them. White faces certainly attract a lot of attention in a place like that. Our cameraman decided not film the water there because of how the villagers were acting.
We went to another nearby beach hoping to not be bullied this time. The cameraman, Josephine (my Ghanaian friend), and myself were the only ones that got out of the van because of the mixed strong smell between garbage, waste, and fish. There were some fishermen preparing their nets and canoes who were friendly and let us talk to them (one, of course, proposed to me). They were very friendly. There was a pipe from a factory running straight into the ocean, gushing out large quantities of black oil. There was a little boy doing handstands next to pipe.
All in all, not my favorite experience. It left me wondering what can be done to clean up these Accra beaches. Ghana could really be a great place for tourists if the beaches were cleaner (though other beaches further away from Accra are absolutely gorgeous).
The Worrrrrrld Mahp!
I traveled back to Ghana in November 2009 with a huge world map rolled up in a plastic tube sticking several feet out of the top of my backpack.
Matthew Colling (who was at the time performing a social impact analysis) and I went to the rural school of Koni Kablu, where one of the merry-go-rounds is. We brought the map to give to the school, and it was the first time they had ever seen one!
Only one of the three teachers had come to the school that day. We rolled out the map in front of about 40 wide-eyed kids, and invited the teacher to help us teach. However, we soon became aware that the teacher didn't know where Ghana, Africa, or the US was. He told us to continue with teaching.
We take so much for granted! The kids didn't know the difference between a country and a continent. They didn't know Ghana was part of Africa. They knew that they lived in Ghana and that they lived in Africa, but having never seen a representation of it, they didn't know how Ghana fit into Africa. Since most of them have never left their village, there was no understanding of the size of Ghana, or Africa, or the world.
We showed them where Ghana was, and then Africa, circling it with our fingers. Then we had them circle it with their fingers. We showed them where we came from in the US. They thought we were from Ghana at first. They caught on quickly to locating those places.
We soon realized they didn't know that the colors represented different countries while the blue represented the ocean. Then, we discovered that they didn't know what the ocean WAS! They had never seen pictures, and they lived a dry, savanna area with no lakes.
My lesson to them about oceans went something like this:
Me: The ocean is made of water. What is the ocean made of?
Kids: Water.
Me: The ocean is made of water. The land is made of dirt. Yes or no... the ocean is made of dirt.
Kids: Yes.
Me: No. The land made of dirt. The ocean is made of water. Yes or no... the ocean is made of water?
Kids: Yes.
Me: Yes or no. The ocean is made of dirt.
Kids: Yes.
I think English was the main barrier to our lesson. So instead I wrote out on the chalkboard "Ocean" with "Water" and "Blue" and "Fish" under it. Then I wrote "Land" with "Dirt" and "Grass" and "Cows" under it.
We went through a series of questions like: Do fish live in the ocean? Yes. Do cows live in the ocean? Yes. Basically the answer to everything was yes. Eventually, we got to the point that they understood what was associated with ocean and what was associated with water.
Now it was time to associate it with the map. I said "the BLUE parts are the ocean." What part is the ocean? Then it seemed they didn't understand what the word blue meant. Matthew and I pointed to different things that were blue, and the kids caught on fast. Then we pointed to different blue things, asking, "what color is this book?" "Blue!" "What color is his shirt?" "Blue!"
Then we said, "What color is the sky?"
"White!" They all yelled in union. I looked out the hole in the plaster that was the window. They were right. The sky was bright white.
Then we had the kids come forward one at a time to point to different parts of the ocean. The first pointed somewhere in the Pacific. The next pointed to somewhere in the Indian. The third pointed to DR Congo. Which was, in fact, a different shade of blue.
Overall, I think the English lesson disguised as a geography lesson turned out fairly well. I learned a lot of things... next time I will bring photos of fish, the ocean, grass, different parts of Africa, and different parts of other countries including the US. When I was their age, I loved maps, and dreaming about going to Africa and traveling to other exotic places. I wanted to travel the world. I really want the kids to know about interesting things that exist in the world that they haven't seen, like snow and castles and kangaroos. Just like I dreamed about giraffes and elephants in Africa as I was growing up.
Matthew Colling (who was at the time performing a social impact analysis) and I went to the rural school of Koni Kablu, where one of the merry-go-rounds is. We brought the map to give to the school, and it was the first time they had ever seen one!
Only one of the three teachers had come to the school that day. We rolled out the map in front of about 40 wide-eyed kids, and invited the teacher to help us teach. However, we soon became aware that the teacher didn't know where Ghana, Africa, or the US was. He told us to continue with teaching.
We take so much for granted! The kids didn't know the difference between a country and a continent. They didn't know Ghana was part of Africa. They knew that they lived in Ghana and that they lived in Africa, but having never seen a representation of it, they didn't know how Ghana fit into Africa. Since most of them have never left their village, there was no understanding of the size of Ghana, or Africa, or the world.
We showed them where Ghana was, and then Africa, circling it with our fingers. Then we had them circle it with their fingers. We showed them where we came from in the US. They thought we were from Ghana at first. They caught on quickly to locating those places.
We soon realized they didn't know that the colors represented different countries while the blue represented the ocean. Then, we discovered that they didn't know what the ocean WAS! They had never seen pictures, and they lived a dry, savanna area with no lakes.
My lesson to them about oceans went something like this:
Me: The ocean is made of water. What is the ocean made of?
Kids: Water.
Me: The ocean is made of water. The land is made of dirt. Yes or no... the ocean is made of dirt.
Kids: Yes.
Me: No. The land made of dirt. The ocean is made of water. Yes or no... the ocean is made of water?
Kids: Yes.
Me: Yes or no. The ocean is made of dirt.
Kids: Yes.
I think English was the main barrier to our lesson. So instead I wrote out on the chalkboard "Ocean" with "Water" and "Blue" and "Fish" under it. Then I wrote "Land" with "Dirt" and "Grass" and "Cows" under it.
We went through a series of questions like: Do fish live in the ocean? Yes. Do cows live in the ocean? Yes. Basically the answer to everything was yes. Eventually, we got to the point that they understood what was associated with ocean and what was associated with water.
Now it was time to associate it with the map. I said "the BLUE parts are the ocean." What part is the ocean? Then it seemed they didn't understand what the word blue meant. Matthew and I pointed to different things that were blue, and the kids caught on fast. Then we pointed to different blue things, asking, "what color is this book?" "Blue!" "What color is his shirt?" "Blue!"
Then we said, "What color is the sky?"
"White!" They all yelled in union. I looked out the hole in the plaster that was the window. They were right. The sky was bright white.
Then we had the kids come forward one at a time to point to different parts of the ocean. The first pointed somewhere in the Pacific. The next pointed to somewhere in the Indian. The third pointed to DR Congo. Which was, in fact, a different shade of blue.
Overall, I think the English lesson disguised as a geography lesson turned out fairly well. I learned a lot of things... next time I will bring photos of fish, the ocean, grass, different parts of Africa, and different parts of other countries including the US. When I was their age, I loved maps, and dreaming about going to Africa and traveling to other exotic places. I wanted to travel the world. I really want the kids to know about interesting things that exist in the world that they haven't seen, like snow and castles and kangaroos. Just like I dreamed about giraffes and elephants in Africa as I was growing up.
Family Home Evening and Table Climbing
My host mother, Lydia, likes to take charge of Family Home Evening lessons. One FHE, she asked us all what we heard in church.
My little sister Adwoa talked a bit about Sunday School. Lydia said, "Nice try." Then Essie said what she heard in sacrament. Lydia said, "Nice try." I didn’t want a 'nice try', so I gave a slightly lengthy monologue and seemed to pass the test.
When it was Kweku’s turn, he said: ‘You want to know one thing I heard at church? One thing I heard at church was: ‘Amen.’”
It is safe to say Lydia was less than amused and rephrased the question to ‘what did you learn at church?’
We finally got her to crack a smile when Essie said she learned that Sister so-and-so had a baby.
JJ had an interesting activity in store for FHE. It is called ‘table climbing’ but it turned out to be more like ‘rolling off the table onto the floor with a giant thump.’ If anyone wants to try it, I will tell you how. Lay on the table. Roll off without falling on the floor. Grab whatever you can with whatever limb you can. Get from one side of the table to the other (under the table) without touching the floor. Roll yourself back up onto the opposite side of the table from where you started. More succinctly, go down one side of the table and come up the other without touching the ground.
I made it the first time because luckily there was a bar on the bottom of the table. When I tried it without using the bar, I fell on the floor the first time. I tried again and was able to briefly suspend myself in the air under the table, and it took a battle with gravity to roll myself back up onto the table.
JJ didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Rock climbers are so aggravating sometimes.
Essie and Adwoa both dropped flat onto the ground. I wanted to see Lydia try, but didn’t want to push my luck in volunteering her.
Another time, JJ and I decided we wanted to play the newlywed game, Kweku against Lydia. It was so funny hearing their perspectives. Kweku saw her one night in the dark and offered her a ride. He said it was because he felt sorry for her. She said it is because he fell in love with her the second he saw her. She did not like his car and told her friends at work about it. They said she could do better. She left the house 15 minutes before he was supposed to pick her up on her first date with him. On purpose of course. He persisted in continuing to visit her at work.
Though they couldn't agree on all the details, Kweku summed it all up with the last statement, "It was the dimple that did the trick."
My little sister Adwoa talked a bit about Sunday School. Lydia said, "Nice try." Then Essie said what she heard in sacrament. Lydia said, "Nice try." I didn’t want a 'nice try', so I gave a slightly lengthy monologue and seemed to pass the test.
When it was Kweku’s turn, he said: ‘You want to know one thing I heard at church? One thing I heard at church was: ‘Amen.’”
It is safe to say Lydia was less than amused and rephrased the question to ‘what did you learn at church?’
We finally got her to crack a smile when Essie said she learned that Sister so-and-so had a baby.
JJ had an interesting activity in store for FHE. It is called ‘table climbing’ but it turned out to be more like ‘rolling off the table onto the floor with a giant thump.’ If anyone wants to try it, I will tell you how. Lay on the table. Roll off without falling on the floor. Grab whatever you can with whatever limb you can. Get from one side of the table to the other (under the table) without touching the floor. Roll yourself back up onto the opposite side of the table from where you started. More succinctly, go down one side of the table and come up the other without touching the ground.
I made it the first time because luckily there was a bar on the bottom of the table. When I tried it without using the bar, I fell on the floor the first time. I tried again and was able to briefly suspend myself in the air under the table, and it took a battle with gravity to roll myself back up onto the table.
JJ didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Rock climbers are so aggravating sometimes.
Essie and Adwoa both dropped flat onto the ground. I wanted to see Lydia try, but didn’t want to push my luck in volunteering her.
Another time, JJ and I decided we wanted to play the newlywed game, Kweku against Lydia. It was so funny hearing their perspectives. Kweku saw her one night in the dark and offered her a ride. He said it was because he felt sorry for her. She said it is because he fell in love with her the second he saw her. She did not like his car and told her friends at work about it. They said she could do better. She left the house 15 minutes before he was supposed to pick her up on her first date with him. On purpose of course. He persisted in continuing to visit her at work.
Though they couldn't agree on all the details, Kweku summed it all up with the last statement, "It was the dimple that did the trick."
EPI - Nii Otto Kwame Stone Crackers, Civil Unity, and Unexpected Visitors
Having been on the MPA study abroad a few years before, I decided to collaborate with the group. They could get some good village exposure, and I could get some help selecting schools for the pilot program. My goal was to visit 18 schools within four days in three groups, and do an initial data collection, eventually to select five. We split the MPAs into three groups and Solomon, JJ, and I each went with a different group. I went to two villages/schools on the first day.
The first was Katapor. I focused on the school, visiting the classrooms and interviewing teachers and students, as well as the headmaster. There were 212 students (88 in the nursery). They have two breaks during the day and all break at the same time. Not all kids can go because some cannot afford the uniform and books cost. By Ghanaian law, they cannot work in the market either, so some kids are just running around. There are books and the kids get homework, but many do not have any light at home. Some may have one kerosene lamp for a family of nine. The school itself was fairly light because there were a lot of windows, but I wonder what would happen in a storm (during these three months it sometimes rains nearly every day). There is no glass so the blinds would have to be closed. There are also no science labs at that school, so it would be extremely beneficial to have one using the merry-go-round and zip-line.
The second school was Nii Otto Kwame. It was much darker. It was made of thick cinder block and did not have any windows, just some decorative designs with holes. They did have a science lab, or at least a box with some test tubes and cylinders they measure water in. They have a mini-microscope as well. I focused more on interviewing village members this time. Many (maybe half) have no light. The rest have maybe one lantern for the whole family. There were, however, some civil unity problems in this village. There is some argument over who should be the chief. Traditionally, it was decided that the first family to settle the area are the royals and that is where the chief comes from. We met with the chief and he told us they had been on national news for some fighting. This school was very crowded with over 400 students. It was not big enough so they had to rotate classrooms with one class meeting under a tree. Mind you, these are all government schools, as we are working with the Ministry of Education.
I am not sure this school is a good candidate. There are too many students to regulate lantern distribution, and the kids did not seem as organized or obedient as Katapor. The civil unrest also makes me wonder what would happen if we suddenly dropped a playground in their area.
Many women in the area are stone crackers. I asked if they could show me so the four women took me up a hill and showed me the quarry and how they gather big rocks and carry them out on their head and hit it with this primitive looking hammer to break it down. I asked if I could do it, so I sat on that hill and cracked stones with the women. One woman tried to also put the bowl of large rocks on my head but the others began to scream, so I pretended to hold a bowl on my head and walk swerving back and forth and they all laughed and laughed. I made some great friends in that village. The men were complaining that there was no work for them in the village. I asked why they couldn't help in the quarry or carrying the rocks. They all laughed at me and said, "that's a woman's job!"
The funny thing about visiting these villages it that nobody except the headmasters were supposed to know we were coming or why we were there. However, hundreds of village members sat in the middle of the schoolyard for three hours waiting for us at both schools. The chiefs were sitting front and center in their traditional garb. They had a table with a white tablecloth and flowers for us to sit in front of them. They expected a speech.
Luckily, Jeff (MPA study abroad professor) and Catherine (professor and MPA administrator) were able to make one for us. Even when the ministry told the people to go away, they still waited! The kids at the second school had planned a song, a few educational speeches, and a skit in which each child dressed in a traditional tribal uniform and told us about the culture. Then they brought out a Ghanaian flag to tell us which each color represented. The kids kept calling us their "honored guest from the United States." We were also able to play some games with the kids.
The village members, apart from 'not knowing we were coming', were not supposed to know why we were there. Once Jeff asked what the greatest need in the community was and a man said, "we need a merry-go-round!"
The first was Katapor. I focused on the school, visiting the classrooms and interviewing teachers and students, as well as the headmaster. There were 212 students (88 in the nursery). They have two breaks during the day and all break at the same time. Not all kids can go because some cannot afford the uniform and books cost. By Ghanaian law, they cannot work in the market either, so some kids are just running around. There are books and the kids get homework, but many do not have any light at home. Some may have one kerosene lamp for a family of nine. The school itself was fairly light because there were a lot of windows, but I wonder what would happen in a storm (during these three months it sometimes rains nearly every day). There is no glass so the blinds would have to be closed. There are also no science labs at that school, so it would be extremely beneficial to have one using the merry-go-round and zip-line.
The second school was Nii Otto Kwame. It was much darker. It was made of thick cinder block and did not have any windows, just some decorative designs with holes. They did have a science lab, or at least a box with some test tubes and cylinders they measure water in. They have a mini-microscope as well. I focused more on interviewing village members this time. Many (maybe half) have no light. The rest have maybe one lantern for the whole family. There were, however, some civil unity problems in this village. There is some argument over who should be the chief. Traditionally, it was decided that the first family to settle the area are the royals and that is where the chief comes from. We met with the chief and he told us they had been on national news for some fighting. This school was very crowded with over 400 students. It was not big enough so they had to rotate classrooms with one class meeting under a tree. Mind you, these are all government schools, as we are working with the Ministry of Education.
I am not sure this school is a good candidate. There are too many students to regulate lantern distribution, and the kids did not seem as organized or obedient as Katapor. The civil unrest also makes me wonder what would happen if we suddenly dropped a playground in their area.
Many women in the area are stone crackers. I asked if they could show me so the four women took me up a hill and showed me the quarry and how they gather big rocks and carry them out on their head and hit it with this primitive looking hammer to break it down. I asked if I could do it, so I sat on that hill and cracked stones with the women. One woman tried to also put the bowl of large rocks on my head but the others began to scream, so I pretended to hold a bowl on my head and walk swerving back and forth and they all laughed and laughed. I made some great friends in that village. The men were complaining that there was no work for them in the village. I asked why they couldn't help in the quarry or carrying the rocks. They all laughed at me and said, "that's a woman's job!"
The funny thing about visiting these villages it that nobody except the headmasters were supposed to know we were coming or why we were there. However, hundreds of village members sat in the middle of the schoolyard for three hours waiting for us at both schools. The chiefs were sitting front and center in their traditional garb. They had a table with a white tablecloth and flowers for us to sit in front of them. They expected a speech.
Luckily, Jeff (MPA study abroad professor) and Catherine (professor and MPA administrator) were able to make one for us. Even when the ministry told the people to go away, they still waited! The kids at the second school had planned a song, a few educational speeches, and a skit in which each child dressed in a traditional tribal uniform and told us about the culture. Then they brought out a Ghanaian flag to tell us which each color represented. The kids kept calling us their "honored guest from the United States." We were also able to play some games with the kids.
The village members, apart from 'not knowing we were coming', were not supposed to know why we were there. Once Jeff asked what the greatest need in the community was and a man said, "we need a merry-go-round!"
Osu and New Life Orphanages
During the four days the MPA study abroad students worked with us, we went with them to the Osu orphanage. It was a very different experience than going to the schools. The kids were completely starved for both attention and touch. I loved picking them up and giving them stickers, and I loved swinging on the swings with them and going down the slides. Most couldn't speak English so it was hard to communicate with them.
There was a fun boy who spoke English who came right up to me and demanded, "Pick me up!" I said, "Why, can't you walk?" He exclaimed, "Yes!" and continued to look at me. I picked him up and spun him around and he laughed and laughed and I kept doing it until I thought we would both fall over. Then we would fall over, and then we'd do it again.
There was a group of older girls on the swings who liked to stroke my hair, too. They all wanted to take pictures with my camera and were surprisingly good at it. They also took a lot of pictures of dirt, but oh well. There was a cute little girl in a purple dress but she didn't respond to much and I thought she must have been through an ordeal.
JJ and I went with our new friends Vicki and Betsy to New Life Orphanage in Cape Coast. Once again, the kids were so warm and accepting and just wanted to be touched and held. I have a great respect for those who set up orphanages. The kids take care of other kids. I brought some balloons as well as stickers this time and the kids preferred to blow them up, let all the air out making the screeching sound, and then come to me and ask me to blow them up again. Every time I tried to give out a balloon, they would say, "do not tie it!" Those kids were so cute.
There was a fun boy who spoke English who came right up to me and demanded, "Pick me up!" I said, "Why, can't you walk?" He exclaimed, "Yes!" and continued to look at me. I picked him up and spun him around and he laughed and laughed and I kept doing it until I thought we would both fall over. Then we would fall over, and then we'd do it again.
There was a group of older girls on the swings who liked to stroke my hair, too. They all wanted to take pictures with my camera and were surprisingly good at it. They also took a lot of pictures of dirt, but oh well. There was a cute little girl in a purple dress but she didn't respond to much and I thought she must have been through an ordeal.
JJ and I went with our new friends Vicki and Betsy to New Life Orphanage in Cape Coast. Once again, the kids were so warm and accepting and just wanted to be touched and held. I have a great respect for those who set up orphanages. The kids take care of other kids. I brought some balloons as well as stickers this time and the kids preferred to blow them up, let all the air out making the screeching sound, and then come to me and ask me to blow them up again. Every time I tried to give out a balloon, they would say, "do not tie it!" Those kids were so cute.
No-Good-Horrible-Very-Bad-Morning!
I was pretty excited Saturday morning because JJ and I were going to a beach party with the young single adults. I had only gotten four hours of sleep because the night before I was washing my clothes by hand in a bucket. I woke up at 5:30am, extremely groggy, and staggered into the cold shower. There was a ginormous cockroach.
Halfway through the shower, the cold water dripping from the shower head completely stopped. I was used to the lights and water turning off spontaneously, and it's normally more of an adventure. This time, though, it was just too early for adventures.
My hair was completely lathered with shampoo, and there was nothing I could do but laugh briefly, and then wonder why mornings even exist. I was left with two options: (1) wait and hope my water comes back on, or (2) humble myself to the dust and ask JJ if I can use his shower. I hated option number two.
So, I waited, shivering, teeth chattering, for about 15 minutes hoping against hope the water would come back on. When it didn’t turn back on, seeing no other possible option besides showing up to the activity with shampoo all over my head, I sent him a text message to warn him that I was coming over whether he liked it or not and that it was a ‘salty fish head’ morning (a phrase coined from our least favorite dinner experience). I put on some sopping wet clothes (they hadn’t dried yet from my washing the night before) and hiked to his house complete with lathery, wet hair glued around the top of my head like a devilish halo.
I think the first words out of my mouth when he opened the door were something along the lines of, “Laugh, and I’ll kill you.” He didn’t laugh (obviously, or he’d be dead now), but kindly let me in. Then, he calls me back, and I thought maybe he was going to tell me some trick to the shower, but no. He has the AUDACITY to HIDE his camera behind his back, then whip it out and snap a picture at six in the morning when I look like a drowned rat! That punk! The good news is I swore in my wrath I’d delete the photo if it was the last thing I did, but he accidentally deleted it himself! Haha! Don’t mess with drowned rat girl.
JJ, if you’re reading this, you know I like you. It WAS funny, looking back.
Because of this incident, I was running a bit late so we scrambled to find a taxi to the church where we were meeting our friends. I bought some koko off the street. It’s a spicy, liquid millet drink. The lady I bought it from appeared to be surprised a white lady was buying it, and asked what price I’d pay. When I told her I would take it for 20 pesewas, the price the three Ghanaians in front of me had purchased it for, she seemed insulted. She told me it would be one cedi. Normally I am a pushover like that, but this morning brought out the hidden feistiness. I told her it would be 20 pesewas or I'd find someone else to buy it from. I gave her one cedi and waited for my change. She wanted to capitalize on obruni and claimed she didn't have any change, even though I had just seen several people pay her with coins. JJ gave me some coins instead. I said 'thank you very much' through gritted teeth and recalled the moment last year when someone tried to charge a friend of mine 20 US dollars to use the public toilet.
I sat on the curbside and sucked my koko out of the plastic bag while we waited. I think I was successful in getting it all over my wet pants as well. Oh yeah, my clothes were wet all day because they hadn't fully dried from my washing them in a bucket the night before. We had arrived by the time we were supposed to leave the church, 7am, but they ended up picking us up around 10am. We sat on the curbside for three hours, both a little grumpy from lack of sleep. Ghana time. It was worth it though. The rest of the day was fabulous!
Halfway through the shower, the cold water dripping from the shower head completely stopped. I was used to the lights and water turning off spontaneously, and it's normally more of an adventure. This time, though, it was just too early for adventures.
My hair was completely lathered with shampoo, and there was nothing I could do but laugh briefly, and then wonder why mornings even exist. I was left with two options: (1) wait and hope my water comes back on, or (2) humble myself to the dust and ask JJ if I can use his shower. I hated option number two.
So, I waited, shivering, teeth chattering, for about 15 minutes hoping against hope the water would come back on. When it didn’t turn back on, seeing no other possible option besides showing up to the activity with shampoo all over my head, I sent him a text message to warn him that I was coming over whether he liked it or not and that it was a ‘salty fish head’ morning (a phrase coined from our least favorite dinner experience). I put on some sopping wet clothes (they hadn’t dried yet from my washing the night before) and hiked to his house complete with lathery, wet hair glued around the top of my head like a devilish halo.
I think the first words out of my mouth when he opened the door were something along the lines of, “Laugh, and I’ll kill you.” He didn’t laugh (obviously, or he’d be dead now), but kindly let me in. Then, he calls me back, and I thought maybe he was going to tell me some trick to the shower, but no. He has the AUDACITY to HIDE his camera behind his back, then whip it out and snap a picture at six in the morning when I look like a drowned rat! That punk! The good news is I swore in my wrath I’d delete the photo if it was the last thing I did, but he accidentally deleted it himself! Haha! Don’t mess with drowned rat girl.
JJ, if you’re reading this, you know I like you. It WAS funny, looking back.
Because of this incident, I was running a bit late so we scrambled to find a taxi to the church where we were meeting our friends. I bought some koko off the street. It’s a spicy, liquid millet drink. The lady I bought it from appeared to be surprised a white lady was buying it, and asked what price I’d pay. When I told her I would take it for 20 pesewas, the price the three Ghanaians in front of me had purchased it for, she seemed insulted. She told me it would be one cedi. Normally I am a pushover like that, but this morning brought out the hidden feistiness. I told her it would be 20 pesewas or I'd find someone else to buy it from. I gave her one cedi and waited for my change. She wanted to capitalize on obruni and claimed she didn't have any change, even though I had just seen several people pay her with coins. JJ gave me some coins instead. I said 'thank you very much' through gritted teeth and recalled the moment last year when someone tried to charge a friend of mine 20 US dollars to use the public toilet.
I sat on the curbside and sucked my koko out of the plastic bag while we waited. I think I was successful in getting it all over my wet pants as well. Oh yeah, my clothes were wet all day because they hadn't fully dried from my washing them in a bucket the night before. We had arrived by the time we were supposed to leave the church, 7am, but they ended up picking us up around 10am. We sat on the curbside for three hours, both a little grumpy from lack of sleep. Ghana time. It was worth it though. The rest of the day was fabulous!
With God All Things are Possible Beauty Salon
One of the things I love about Africa in general (but particularly Ghana) is looking at various shop names. The people are very religious and affiliate many shops with religious titles. For example: "God is Great Furniture Works," "Redeemer Tyres," "Jesus Saves Hair Salon," and "God is With Us Chop Shop." I love this because it shows the religious conviction of the people. While America is busy taking God out of the pledge, people in Ghana are recognizing him in their businesses.
My personal favorite was: "The Downfall of Man is Not the End of His Life Enterprise." 12 words. It was a bike repair shop.
Some of the names are not religious, but just kind of funny, like this one:
In case you can't read it, it's "Don't Mine Your Wife Chop Bar."
Another good one was the "Bar Be Que" shop.
Taxis and trotros are also filled with religious sayings. Some of them, again, are not as religious. For example, I was walking down the street and saw some men pushing a trotro that had broken down. The writing in the back windshield? "Never Give Up." Very appropriate.
My personal favorite was: "The Downfall of Man is Not the End of His Life Enterprise." 12 words. It was a bike repair shop.
Some of the names are not religious, but just kind of funny, like this one:
In case you can't read it, it's "Don't Mine Your Wife Chop Bar."
Another good one was the "Bar Be Que" shop.
Taxis and trotros are also filled with religious sayings. Some of them, again, are not as religious. For example, I was walking down the street and saw some men pushing a trotro that had broken down. The writing in the back windshield? "Never Give Up." Very appropriate.
How to Start an NGO in Ghana
One of the main goals I had in going to Ghana was to make the organization official in Ghana. We already had our 501(c)3 but were not registered in Ghana at all. In case you were wondering what is involved in the process, I will tell you what I did this summer.
1. Find an auditor.
2. Go to the Register General's Office. Buy a form, make 4 copies, pay your registration fee, give a letter from your auditor. Wait several months, unless you have a connection, in which case, wait two weeks or so and get your certificate!
3. Go to the Social Welfare Office. Bring a slew of documents including (but not a comprehensive list) your registration certificate, articles of incorporation, the Social Welfare application form, 501(c)3 copy (if affiliated with US nonprofit), letter from an auditor, and a memorandum of understanding between your nonprofit and the government of Ghana. We were also asked to bring letters from the Ministry of Education. Wait another few weeks, pay your fee (why is it that nonprofits have to pay exorbitant fees to the government when they are in fact stepping in and saving the government money by doing things the government is failing to do?), and receive your Social Welfare Registration.
4. Once you have your Social Welfare registration, you are free to begin applying for tax exemptions. In Ghana, these are not given unless the organization is either education or health related. Solomon and I have had quite the headache trying to convince the government that this is an educational venture. However, since we are not directly importing books or other clearly educational goods, we have been fighting tooth and nail for our import duty exemptions. The Ministry of Finance tells us there is no way for us to prove the lights are going to children and not being sold. This step is by far the hardest because you have to apply through the Ministry of Finance, who then sends you to Customs and the VAT (value added tax) for consideration, who then sends it back for approval. We are still fighting for this one.
5. Hire yourself a country director. We were very lucky to have a very good candidate fall right in front of us. To do this, you need to register your country director officially with the organization, and go to the SSNIT (Social Security Office) to fill out another form. Careful when setting the employee's base salary... the organization is required to pay 12% to SSNIT and the employee 5%.
I probably missed a few steps, because this was an extremely long and drawn out process, but since it happened within the three months I was there even with all the other things we were doing, I'd say it's relatively easy in Ghana. It is not very hard to obtain the status, but it does take some waiting time.
1. Find an auditor.
2. Go to the Register General's Office. Buy a form, make 4 copies, pay your registration fee, give a letter from your auditor. Wait several months, unless you have a connection, in which case, wait two weeks or so and get your certificate!
3. Go to the Social Welfare Office. Bring a slew of documents including (but not a comprehensive list) your registration certificate, articles of incorporation, the Social Welfare application form, 501(c)3 copy (if affiliated with US nonprofit), letter from an auditor, and a memorandum of understanding between your nonprofit and the government of Ghana. We were also asked to bring letters from the Ministry of Education. Wait another few weeks, pay your fee (why is it that nonprofits have to pay exorbitant fees to the government when they are in fact stepping in and saving the government money by doing things the government is failing to do?), and receive your Social Welfare Registration.
4. Once you have your Social Welfare registration, you are free to begin applying for tax exemptions. In Ghana, these are not given unless the organization is either education or health related. Solomon and I have had quite the headache trying to convince the government that this is an educational venture. However, since we are not directly importing books or other clearly educational goods, we have been fighting tooth and nail for our import duty exemptions. The Ministry of Finance tells us there is no way for us to prove the lights are going to children and not being sold. This step is by far the hardest because you have to apply through the Ministry of Finance, who then sends you to Customs and the VAT (value added tax) for consideration, who then sends it back for approval. We are still fighting for this one.
5. Hire yourself a country director. We were very lucky to have a very good candidate fall right in front of us. To do this, you need to register your country director officially with the organization, and go to the SSNIT (Social Security Office) to fill out another form. Careful when setting the employee's base salary... the organization is required to pay 12% to SSNIT and the employee 5%.
I probably missed a few steps, because this was an extremely long and drawn out process, but since it happened within the three months I was there even with all the other things we were doing, I'd say it's relatively easy in Ghana. It is not very hard to obtain the status, but it does take some waiting time.
Asaba - The Miracle Fruit
One of my favorite things about Ghana (apart from the kids) is the delicious fresh fruit that grows so abundantly. There were mango and coconut trees in our front yard. The pineapple is absolutely divine. You will never find such a succulent pineapple in the US. There is also a small red berry the Ghanaians call asaba. After chewing this fruit, sour and bitter foods taste sweet for several hours. I ate a whole lemon as if it were an orange. And it tasted delicious! I must warn you, do not eat asaba if you are planning on eating anything else sweet. Drinking fruit juice and eating a grapefruit was very unpleasant afterwards - too sweet! Wikipedia explains that this works because a molecule asaba contains called miraculin binds to the tongue's taste buds and possibly distorts the sweetness receptors, making them react to bitter and sour flavors.
EPI - School Selection - Ga East
Adenkrebi Village: This village is good because there is
not conflict, there are less than 1,000 people in the village, the teachers are
smart and dedicated, the students were extremely well-disciplined, and a man in
the village said that light was their greatest need. The kids only get to eat fufu and banku. The water comes from a stream about 1
mile away from the village. They
farm maize and cassava. The
community is very unified and live close together. The chief said their greatest needs were: lights, teacher
bungalows, roads, and the lack of a hospital in the area. I had a good feel from the
community—this school had arranged for a few parents to come to the
school. So instead of the whole
village of us showing up and waiting for us to give us something, they kept it
quiet, which I think is so good.
They were also very humble.
They said, “If, by the grace of God, these people feel moved to help
you…” compared to some of the others.
They were much more upbeat.
We shall contrast this attitude to the next school I visited.
We stopped by Akporman Model School on the way. The kids had pink uniforms rather than
the orange ones I’ve seen at the rest of the government schools.
Mueter School: Tuesday we were around the Affinya area
visiting more schools. Mueter was
the first I visited. Right away, I
could tell mud may be an obstacles in getting the mgr in and maintaining
it. There were six classroom, a
library, and they are in the process of building a new KG room. It appears to be a very religious
community, because before the teachers met with us, they sang a prayer. There are about 200 students at the
school. The children’s typical
schedule is that they wake up at 5am, sweep and fetch water for the day, take
‘morning supper’ of bunku or rice, and help at the farm after school. The other problem is that the kids
don’t have books to take home, so they do their homework at school often. Would they come back that far at night
to do their homework if there were lights there? Other times, the homework is based off the teacher’s notes,
so the kids can take them home and do their homework. They do play during their break time, unlike Adenkrebi, and
they have two breaks. They were
very happy to get footballs from us.
Mueter Village: My chief concern about this school is
the long walk from the village to the school. Catherine, Aaron, and I started walking to the village (aka:
tromping through a jungle and swamp.
I have to admit, I have the coolest job ever). We went through a lot of mud to get to the chief’s compound,
where there were some huts and a small power generator—the only one in the
village. We walked for at least
half an hour and only made it halfway to the closest village. These kids have to walk far! It was extremely muddy and I ended up
being covered up to my knees (unfortunately I choose this day as the first day
I wore my white capris… oh well).
We came to a point where the swamp was up to our knees, halfway to the
village, and stopped there. Our
guide said that when it rained very hard, sometimes it was up to the children’s
necks, and they wouldn’t come to school.
Some days during the rainy season, they come to school 2-3 out of 5
days. Aaron thought putting a mgr
there may be a good test actually, a good challenge. All the other essential elements that automatically
eliminated a lot of schools we visited were in place at this school. I actually felt pretty good about
it. The village is, again, a
farming community, although there are also many charcoal makers. The communities are somewhat scattered
and a little hard to get together.
The chief sees light as their biggest challenge. Afterwards, they gave us thirty
eggs. A very generous gesture. They also pulled out a bucket of water
they pumped and washed my muddy legs and shoes off (it was pretty bad). I was touched that they would pump it
for me. Although I admit it was a
little odd to have someone cleaning between my toes for me. I tried to tell her I could do it, but
she didn’t speak English. I think
that the teachers and administration of this school is very capable of taking
care of a mgr and lanterns. The
community was not demanding at all.
Asutsnape Junction School: I didn't really like this school. The headmaster was actually pushing the
kids down if they were in his way.
There were 376 kids and no order at all. The whole community showed up sitting under a tree to demand
things from us—TVs, entertainment, anything they could think of. They were saying, “We have no
electricity. No hospital. No market. No entertainment.
We are bored. Give us
mobile phones.” in a ‘what are you going to do about it’ way. They kept arguing and talking over each
other in their native language.
They seemed mad we had only brought footballs. Apparently, hard drugs are a problem in the community, and
teen pregnancy. Before we left,
the headmaster told the whole community, “We know that once we see white people
here, all our problems will be solved for us” and everybody clapped. I felt like he said it just to put the
pressure on us and it was so annoying!
As if there is nothing these people can do about their problems
themselves without waiting for a white person. They are so not empowered! The school did have a maize farm, a pepper farm, and a tree
lot the kids work in to support the school. I really wonder if it is a good idea or child labor and
where the money really goes. We
met with the teachers, who were less than helpful and looked like they wanted
us to go away. Most had only been
teaching for 1-2 years, but there was one great lady who had taught for 23
years. In science, there is no
equipment, they draw the equipment on the chalkboard. The ages, as in most schools, are very mixed up according to
opportunity. For example, there is
a 20 year old in the primary school.
There are three 30 minute each breaks.
Back to Adenkrebi about a month later: Our final visit before deciding to select Adenkrebi in the Ga East district was interesting. It had formerly been my top choice, but now I’m not so sure. We took a few trotros to get there and finally took a taxi from the last city-like area to the school. The taxi driver was dressed in traditional garb and seemed more than happy to be paid to chill in the car while we did our school visit, with his long legs sticking out the open door and African music blaring from the car. Adenkrebi had been so organized and well-behaved last time I went. However, this time they were not informed we were coming and things were a bit different. The headmaster was out and we only saw three of the nine teachers at the school that day. The kids didn’t seem so disciplined, and sometimes the kids were not in the classroom. The location is gorgeous—it is at the top of a high hill overlooking other beautiful green hills. We gave the assistant headmaster the brochure and application and explained who we are. They were quite interested in applying.
Drama: One of the teachers invited us to come watch a ‘drama’ the kids are doing. We stood around in a circle with the kids for the warm-up. There was one student in the middle who called out and everyone else responded. It went something like this:
“Whazzup?”
“Wazzup?”
“I want you.”
“For what?”
Then everyone starts dancing like crazy.
I think they were entertained by JJ’s and my obruni dance. Then they put two big chairs in the middle of the classroom for JJ and I to sit on—I felt bad that they didn’t bring one for Solomon, but he insisted it was fine. So JJ and I watched from our thrones while everyone else stood. Then the kids did the real performance.
It was about a village man who wouldn’t allow his girl child to go to school. The best part was near the end when some village people were reprimanding him that every child, even the girl child, has the right to go to school. In the end, the kids playing the "community" ganged up on him, grabbed him by his trousers, picked him up, and carried him out the door to the police station while he yelled and kicked his legs. The boy playing the father was absolutely hilarious and looked completely indignant as he was hiked a foot into the air. It was awesome and definitely reflected the change in mindset and how hard the government and NGOs have been working to get girls in rural areas to school.
Adenkrebi Village: The most enlightening part of the trip was when we went into the community. The assistant headmaster took us around and I believe showed us a very biased view, taking us to all the better-off and more prominent people (who still lived in mud houses). We met the chief first and then one of the elders, the asarfo hene, (hene means chief and asarfo has something to do with youth). Many members of the community actually have tv sets and take their batteries into town to charge them. We found an interesting fact, that when electricity is introduced into a community, the birthrate goes down because people have something new to do at night (watch tv). Everyone in the community seemed to be a farmer, plus have another very small business. One man was a pensioner (retired teacher) who farmed to stay young, his wife ran a shop, and his daughter a hair saloon. We also sat under a tree talking to five men who spend time between Adenkrebi and Accra.
The people seemed to all have cell phones and tv sets, until we choose the last house instead of letting the headmaster take us. I really liked the last house. It was a carpenter and his wife, and there was a little baby sleeping outside on a homemade rug in the dirt. The carpenter had made a scooter out of wood. They also grew a garden in the back with coconut and palm trees and cocoa yams (which they made a stew out of the leaves and root, and some pound the root for fufu.). The cocoa yam leaves were longer than my arm and fairly circular.
There were a lot of homemade bamboo fences in that area. People actually tied their goats up instead of letting them wander around. The general feel was that it wasn’t quite as open and friendly as some other villages. The other concern I had is that people would use the energy for cell phones or tv’s instead of education - but maybe that would be okay if they had other positive impacts?
The interesting thing was that everyone in the school and the community remembered me immediately (JJ and Solomon had never been there before). And all of them said, 'I remember you, the one that asks a lot of questions.’ Apparently I am a loudmouth.
Adenkrebi kids: The kids at that school followed us around and made some interesting noises through narrowed lips, kind of like ‘ssssswhhheeessssweeeessss.’ We finally realized they were simply trying to imitate the way we talk. JJ and I were trying to teach the kids how to high-five. They all just wanted to touch our hands. So it turned out the kids were falling all over each other trying to touch my hands for a high-five, then I’d go down for a low-five and they would all kneel on the ground trying to touch my hands over each other. When I said, “Up high,” they didn’t understand, so the whole way back to the taxi there was a mass of primary school students following us saying ‘uh-buy, uh-buy.’ Cute kids.
EPI - School Selection - Ga West
Ga West schools: Katapor, Akatoshi, and Ayawasu.
Katapor: I didn’t see anything unique or especially desirable about the school, but I didn't see any red flags, either. There are 212 kids in the primary school and KG and they were not able to give us the numbers for JSS. A lot of NGOs work with them already, and they do have a bit of the “give me” entitlement attitude. They have two PTA meetings per term and it is hard to motivate people to attend. Often, kids stay after school to do homework and then go to quarry. Many don’t do their homework. They have a library built by an NGO but it was locked when we got there even though the kids were on break and could have used it.
Akatoshi: This school was nuts! We went on a Friday and apparently on Fridays in Ghana it’s often a free for all. But this one was especially out of control. There are perhaps 700 kids at this school and they were all running amuck with only one highly apathetic teacher sitting in the shade halfway supervising them. There were lots of kids climbing the trees, spinning around for fun until they fell on the ground, playing football, or even rolling in the dirt for fun. There was a library with a solar panel, which wasn’t being used at all.
Some kids were jumping from one tree to another.
We asked the kids how many of them had homework the night before, and even the whole week, and only a few had been assigned homework—all in math. So I suppose there is one teacher that assigns homework anyway.
On the upside, if we did install playground equipment, the kids would have something to do besides jump from trees... It actually could be a good school to put playground equipment in as a test to accelerate the technical problems that we might have in the future. Though that wouldn't be the best reason to put a mgr there.
Ayawasu: This school was heartwarming because the kids immediately came running down the path and swarmed us (see photo) and grabbed my hands—I had about five on each hand and twenty following behind me and another ten in front of me all through the field towards the school.
However, it is only a primary school and it would be good to get some variety and have more equipment at schools that include JSS. It was funny because the kids had swarmed me so badly that Solomon and JJ had already reached the school and I was having a hard time keeping up because kids were clamped onto me everywhere. So I yelled, “Wait for me!” This was the only thing the kids heard coming from my mouth, so they all started chanting/mimicking in unison, “wheyfahme, wheyfahme” the whole way up. They must have said it at least fifty times in a row. It was the funniest thing! The kids really grow on you fast! As far as being a place where lights will be helpful, I kind of doubt it.
The final schools selected, both using the selection criteria and looking for variety are: Dedenya, Minya, Katapor, and Adenkrebi. The fifth is a toss-up between Koni Kablu and Akotoshi (gulp!)
Katapor: I didn’t see anything unique or especially desirable about the school, but I didn't see any red flags, either. There are 212 kids in the primary school and KG and they were not able to give us the numbers for JSS. A lot of NGOs work with them already, and they do have a bit of the “give me” entitlement attitude. They have two PTA meetings per term and it is hard to motivate people to attend. Often, kids stay after school to do homework and then go to quarry. Many don’t do their homework. They have a library built by an NGO but it was locked when we got there even though the kids were on break and could have used it.
Akatoshi: This school was nuts! We went on a Friday and apparently on Fridays in Ghana it’s often a free for all. But this one was especially out of control. There are perhaps 700 kids at this school and they were all running amuck with only one highly apathetic teacher sitting in the shade halfway supervising them. There were lots of kids climbing the trees, spinning around for fun until they fell on the ground, playing football, or even rolling in the dirt for fun. There was a library with a solar panel, which wasn’t being used at all.
Some kids were jumping from one tree to another.
We asked the kids how many of them had homework the night before, and even the whole week, and only a few had been assigned homework—all in math. So I suppose there is one teacher that assigns homework anyway.
On the upside, if we did install playground equipment, the kids would have something to do besides jump from trees... It actually could be a good school to put playground equipment in as a test to accelerate the technical problems that we might have in the future. Though that wouldn't be the best reason to put a mgr there.
Ayawasu: This school was heartwarming because the kids immediately came running down the path and swarmed us (see photo) and grabbed my hands—I had about five on each hand and twenty following behind me and another ten in front of me all through the field towards the school.
However, it is only a primary school and it would be good to get some variety and have more equipment at schools that include JSS. It was funny because the kids had swarmed me so badly that Solomon and JJ had already reached the school and I was having a hard time keeping up because kids were clamped onto me everywhere. So I yelled, “Wait for me!” This was the only thing the kids heard coming from my mouth, so they all started chanting/mimicking in unison, “wheyfahme, wheyfahme” the whole way up. They must have said it at least fifty times in a row. It was the funniest thing! The kids really grow on you fast! As far as being a place where lights will be helpful, I kind of doubt it.
The final schools selected, both using the selection criteria and looking for variety are: Dedenya, Minya, Katapor, and Adenkrebi. The fifth is a toss-up between Koni Kablu and Akotoshi (gulp!)
EPI - School Selection - Dangme West
Solomon, JJ, and I visited eighteen schools in three districts to look for the best merry-go-rounds candidates. The goal was to ultimately select five. After visiting the eighteen, we selected ten to give applications to. We have now selected the five schools which should each have an electricity producing merry-go-round by the end of September.
Dangme West District: Dedenya, Mueter, and Mompang Shai.
Dendenya: I liked this school a lot. There are 150-160 students and the school will go up through JSS2 next year. They have a library with a lock, so we could keep our power boxes safe. According to the teachers, the PTA is not very strong, but that is typical of the public schools we’ve visited. The headmaster was not there when we stopped by, which is also very typical. The school was built by SOS. The headmaster’s assistant was enthusiastic and said they want to be the first to receive a merry-go-round. The hills around the school are beautiful.
Muerter: This school has 150-200 students. I was most impressed with what *seems* to be the strength of their PTA, from what we’ve heard. Amati, the PTA chairman, seems very involved in the school activities. During our initial visit with the MPA interns, they had given us eggs and even washed the mud off my legs after we walked halfway through the village. The downside is the children live extremely far away, so they probably won’t come back in the evening to play on the merry-go-round. It is also very muddy when it rains, and half the time during the rainy season the kids can’t come to school because they would have to go across a pass with water up to their necks. Also, it is only a primary school so it wouldn’t benefit any JSS students.
There is a three year old rusty slide there.
We gave them some soccer balls.
Mompang Shai: This school is quite large—the teachers and headmaster didn’t know how many kids attend but I would guess around 400. One teacher said there are 50 students in her classroom alone. The PTA, according to the teachers, is very weak and their last meeting was last year. The teachers also said the retention rate is poor due to pregnancies and that there are more boys at school than girls. We found some children studying after school. One child was older but still in primary school and working hard to learn how to read. Some other small children were hanging around and I gave them some Superman stickers that said "Seize the challenge!" I don't think they understood the meaning of the words "seize" or "challenge."
Dangme West Schools: Koni Kablu and Minya.
I was very impressed with both of these schools, because, unlike every single other public school I’ve visited, both of these schools had ALL the kids in the classrooms with teachers teaching when we visited by surprise. The kids were quiet when they were supposed to be, well-behaved, disciplined, and respectful. I never saw that at other schools.
Koni Kablu was quiet and nice, and they took us into all the classrooms. The kids stood up and greeted us and clapped for us in unison. Very disciplined. We visited some people in the village to ask them about the school and community. This is a FABULOUS setting as far as marketing goes. It seems like more of a dry savannah than any other place we’ve visited and the village is very rural with thatched roofs.
Solomon and I visited with some of the villagers afterwards to ask about the school and their children.
It was fun.
I want to carry my children like this, but Florence, my Ghanaian friend, said I don't have the anatomy for it. No hips, too stick-like. :-(
If you can't tell, I really loved Koni Kablu.
The kids there really liked the stickers.
At Minya, the kids were so disciplined I had to wonder if the teachers beat them.
One of the classes meets under a tree because there are not enough classrooms for all the kids. There was a scale as part of the lesson that was going on, which was the first hands-on lab I’ve seen—and it was going on when they didn’t even know we were coming!
We peeked in a classroom and “gravitational force” was written on the chalkboard with some diagrams. Minya was extremely quiet, the headmaster even whispered outside the classrooms and didn’t want to bring us into the classes because it would disturb the teaching. The kids didn’t even gawk at us through the windows. They were incredibly focused. There were see-saws at Minya. Solomon and I, being professionals in the field of playgrounds, were of course obligated to try it out. It’s a tough job, I tell you.
Dangme West District: Dedenya, Mueter, and Mompang Shai.
Dendenya: I liked this school a lot. There are 150-160 students and the school will go up through JSS2 next year. They have a library with a lock, so we could keep our power boxes safe. According to the teachers, the PTA is not very strong, but that is typical of the public schools we’ve visited. The headmaster was not there when we stopped by, which is also very typical. The school was built by SOS. The headmaster’s assistant was enthusiastic and said they want to be the first to receive a merry-go-round. The hills around the school are beautiful.
Muerter: This school has 150-200 students. I was most impressed with what *seems* to be the strength of their PTA, from what we’ve heard. Amati, the PTA chairman, seems very involved in the school activities. During our initial visit with the MPA interns, they had given us eggs and even washed the mud off my legs after we walked halfway through the village. The downside is the children live extremely far away, so they probably won’t come back in the evening to play on the merry-go-round. It is also very muddy when it rains, and half the time during the rainy season the kids can’t come to school because they would have to go across a pass with water up to their necks. Also, it is only a primary school so it wouldn’t benefit any JSS students.
There is a three year old rusty slide there.
We gave them some soccer balls.
Mompang Shai: This school is quite large—the teachers and headmaster didn’t know how many kids attend but I would guess around 400. One teacher said there are 50 students in her classroom alone. The PTA, according to the teachers, is very weak and their last meeting was last year. The teachers also said the retention rate is poor due to pregnancies and that there are more boys at school than girls. We found some children studying after school. One child was older but still in primary school and working hard to learn how to read. Some other small children were hanging around and I gave them some Superman stickers that said "Seize the challenge!" I don't think they understood the meaning of the words "seize" or "challenge."
Dangme West Schools: Koni Kablu and Minya.
I was very impressed with both of these schools, because, unlike every single other public school I’ve visited, both of these schools had ALL the kids in the classrooms with teachers teaching when we visited by surprise. The kids were quiet when they were supposed to be, well-behaved, disciplined, and respectful. I never saw that at other schools.
Koni Kablu was quiet and nice, and they took us into all the classrooms. The kids stood up and greeted us and clapped for us in unison. Very disciplined. We visited some people in the village to ask them about the school and community. This is a FABULOUS setting as far as marketing goes. It seems like more of a dry savannah than any other place we’ve visited and the village is very rural with thatched roofs.
Solomon and I visited with some of the villagers afterwards to ask about the school and their children.
It was fun.
I want to carry my children like this, but Florence, my Ghanaian friend, said I don't have the anatomy for it. No hips, too stick-like. :-(
If you can't tell, I really loved Koni Kablu.
The kids there really liked the stickers.
At Minya, the kids were so disciplined I had to wonder if the teachers beat them.
One of the classes meets under a tree because there are not enough classrooms for all the kids. There was a scale as part of the lesson that was going on, which was the first hands-on lab I’ve seen—and it was going on when they didn’t even know we were coming!
We peeked in a classroom and “gravitational force” was written on the chalkboard with some diagrams. Minya was extremely quiet, the headmaster even whispered outside the classrooms and didn’t want to bring us into the classes because it would disturb the teaching. The kids didn’t even gawk at us through the windows. They were incredibly focused. There were see-saws at Minya. Solomon and I, being professionals in the field of playgrounds, were of course obligated to try it out. It’s a tough job, I tell you.
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