Chestnuts Roasting

The exams have been graded, the scores recorded and to the beach I run. I considered myself properly prepared for a very un-Christmaslike Christmas. Having spent the last few years in San Francisco, I am used to the un-White Christmas paradigm and it ceases to bother me. Other volunteers complained ceaselessly about it “not feeling like Christmas”. To them I say: Well, sometimes Ghana doesn’t even feel like reality so why would you think Christmas would be the exception. I spent Christmas with a few volunteers at one the many paradisiacal Beach Resorts, massaging my toes in the sand, wrestling with the brutal Ghanaian surf, and of course drinking beer. What else should a Christmas be but extreme relaxation? This objective was most certainly achieved.

This is the hammock in which I spent the majority of my Christmas Eve. No complaints.

A picture of the Tree House you can sleep in, if you so desire and I do.

When you have nothing to do, doing nothing somehow the thing you want to do least, so my friends and I made a plan that upon waking one morning we would walk the beach down to a place we called “The Big Rock”. It is literally just a big rock but it gave us enough structure that the day seemed like busy one (by West African standards at least).

This is a picture our successful arrival at the Big Rock. Yes, glory was in the air.

Standing on the Big Rock looking back.

Who could complain about a Christmas Eve sunset like this?

Happy Holidays to All.

A Monolith of Frustration

Although, I have not yet received my new camera I’ve been told it is in the country somewhere. This is great news and means I am probably only a few days away from beginning to compliment my posts with photos again.

In the meantime, I will painting this depressing scene with words. My first term as a teacher in Ghana has ended and I’ve been abandoned by the students which have for the most part become some of greatest friends. There is a pile of no less than 800 ICT exams and 100 Picture Making exams and reports to grade before my vacation can go on. This sucks. I am beginning to realize that I simply have too many students. Even as I am recording grades in my grade book, I am discovering there are students who’s educational strategy is to not go to class or hand in any of the classwork and then get at least 50 points on the final exam which translates to passing grade and therefore safety from canning per the Headmaster’s promise. (He has vowed to cane each of the 1300 students 6 times for every failing grade they receive. This would be simply impossible, considering how many students fail each term. I just honestly don’t think it is promise that can be kept).

All the little things are clawing at my patience. Students write their names one way on one test paper and another way on another. It is literally a miracle if I don’t make a thousand mistakes transferring this information by hand from my Excel spreadsheet to the students’ Terminal Reports. It is no wonder schools in America made computerizing grade books such a high priority- the time savings would be profound here, that is if time was scarce. It isn’t so, hand writing nearly 1000 Terminal Reports somehow seems like a manageable task. Once this mess is resolved I will make a B-line to the beach and not leave until school reopens sometime the second week of January.

Form 3 Final Projects

I taught my Form 3 (the equivalent of a high school senior) Art students how to construct canvases out of local, readily available materials. We use a type of would called WaWaa and fabric from large sacks of flour that bread makers sell at ridiculously cheap prices. Their midterm exam was to properly construct a canvas for inspection and their final exam was to use the canvas to paint a scene. In addition to painting the scene they were also required to hand in a written analysis of their use of materials and a short story about what their painting was about. These are few of my favorites:

Artist: Cornelius Anan Gyan

Artist: Alfred Ni____ (I can't spell his last name)

Artist: Lawrence Miano

I was quite pleased with all the results I received, not to mention the stories they wrote were fascinating too. I consider it one of my greatest victories as an educator in Ghana.

The Demise of a Blog

Blogs are great (sometimes). They are a way to communicate experiences, tastes, distastes, and general intellectual banter to an indeterminably large (or small) audience. I feel guilty that I’ve let mine wither and I am making a concerted effort to give it the proverbial mouth-mouth. In reviving this blog, I’d like to take a moment to discuss why blogs crumble and what I can do as a blogger to prevent that from happening again. With the decade ought come a whole new resolve, and this time around I mean business.

A number of factors, as I see it, lead to the demise of a Blog and trust me there are thousands of dead blogs clogging the internet, like a broken down jalopy on the Information Freeway. There are so many, in fact, that when I troll for blogs (usually about art, news, or Fashion) I’ve made it habit to first check the date on which the blog was last updated. If it wasn’t updated in the last two weeks chances are it won’t be updated in the next two, or ever again if we want to be realistic. So why is and how is that blogs find themselves in the so called blog graveyard? Well, I can think of four relatively sound reasons. (Please, none of this should be read as me trying to find excuses for my gross neglect. This is simply me justifying to myself why I am not the only one who has neglected her civic duty to keep her blog fresh and dynamic).

The first (and what I see to be the most legitimate reason) a blog dies is that the specific event, the blog was created for passes. This event can be anything from the birth of a child, the marriage of a couple, or Serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in some obscure foreign country. The blog is designed to chronicle specific information about a certain period in time. Obviously, when the time passes the blog to will wiggle its way into the ground. This will most likely be the C.O.D. of the blog you are reading right now. Someday in the not so distant future I will no longer have stories about crab elbows or tro-tros to share and my life in America hardly warrants the kind of rigorous public scrutiny blogging can offer.

The second reason, (possibly the most optimistic) is that people grow (for the better) out of their blogs. As we are no longer living in the age of pretty pink diaries with heart shaped locks tucked snuggly under our Serta mattresses, blogs come to rescue as our outlet for our deepest darkest thoughts, that used to be so safely kept under lock and key. The mentality of someone who blogs in this way, is baffling, but if I really think about it, I can see the logic. Perhaps making seemingly insignificant but incredibly personal information so ridiculously public, may in fact, hide it from those who know you best (in the real physical world). An example of this style of blog death would be: maybe you started a blog as a freshman in high school to channel your ultra-angsty insignificant thoughts, but upon graduating high school (and potentially being struck by lightning) you’ve realized any additional subject matter you discuss should be placed at totally different URL altogether. Regardless, people change, things happen and eventually a blog may not serve the purpose it was originally intended to serve. I propose we all be held responsible for maintain “Blog Mission Statements”, which would be displayed at the top. That would save blog trollers like me, a whole lot of time and effort looking for “the good stuff”.

Thirdly, a blogger doesn’t know what he is getting himself into and simply lacks the drive and stamina to keep the blog fresh. There is simply no excuse for this. If you are too lazy to update a blog, you are probably too lazy to think of anything worth read to post on it (save hilarious pictures of puppies and the occasional must-see YouTube clip). Perhaps bloggers should be given training blogs in the beginning and if they can prove themselves consistent posters, then they will be allowed to blog with the big dogs. Laziness, has never, and will never, be a legitimate excuse for anything (except, I’ve found, occasionally in West Africa). These people should be fined for their slacking.

Fourthly, and potentially most rarely, the technology which you use to maintain your blog goes missing or becomes increasingly unreliable. This is what I like to call the Peace Corps Volunteer excuse. Whether, it is always true that our blogs generally go astray (save Brendan and Guillermo), it is certainly easy to tell our friends and family this is the case. The internet connections, if you can find them, are frustratingly slow and rarely working due to the requirement of consistent electricity, which has also become a bit of a novelty item. Technological excuses aside, we also lose perspective at a staggering pace. Sometimes we, as volunteers constantly encouraged to integrate with rural undeveloped communities, simply find ourselves in experiencing something totally ludicrous which all of the sudden becomes commonplace and insignificant to us. For example, I have a friend in the Volta region who takes part in the sacrificing of no less than 7 animals a week. I am told he has some pretty rowdy river Gods that require extra attention. I’m sure he’s blogged about it once or twice but when the ritual happens every day it hardly seems reporting to an already waning fan group. Another example, I am writing these posts from the comfort of my home on a Thursday afternoon because classes were canceled for some sort of all school sports competition. In America, this would never be a last minute surprise. It would have been carefully planned, voted, on and compensated for in exchange for teacher workshop days. Here, in Ghana, it is just another surprise day off.

I would like to put my neglect under category number four due to the fact that majority of my blogs take the basic form of SILLY/UNUSUAL PICTURE coupled with WITTY PICTURE EXPLANATION AND REFLECTION. Well, we all know by now one of my conniving students stole my digital camera around Halloween which made my comfortable style of blogging virtually impossible. For this, I apologize. I have since, by the grace of my sweet sweet mother and father and fellow PCV Sonya’s sister, received a new camera and can resume my comfortable posting style. (After this explanatory post, of course).

But, like I said it is a new decade and I have a feeling the 10’s are going to bring us nothing but blue skies, bountiful harvests, and regular blog posts. Now all I have to do is not lose my camera and pray to God that the internet connection here doesn’t get any worse than it already is.

Apologies for my Slacking Blog

Now is the time when I catch you up with the last few weeks and apologize for my lack of fun and entertaining blog posts to keep you all giggling in your seats.

First things first, consider this blog "pictureless until further notice". While, Ghana is an extremely safe country, and Ghanaians are among the nicest people in world, a few bad seeds have drifted along and snagged my super sweet and extremely portable digital camera. Boo Hoo! I know, it kills me too. Especially, last night when I was hunting a spider the size of a Frisbee, with only my headlamp, a frying pan and a can of insecticide. The whole time I was thinking, "Man, I could really use a picture of this for my Christmas card". But alas, it cannot be.

In other news, my first term as a teacher in Ghana has nearly come to an end! Next week marks the begining of a two week period called, "Revision Week" where teachers fail to come to class and students read through the copius notes they have taken throughout the Term. I plan to go to every class with an English book, a Science book, a Math book, and a French book and answer any and all questions that my students may have in any of their classes. It can't hurt and it will certainly keep me busy.

I can't believe that in just a few weeks I will have been here for a whole 6 months. I guess time really does fly. Before I know it, I will be saying my farewells to a village of friends that have grown and supported me over the last years.

I also want to wish everybody a wonderful Thanksgiving, which is just next week! Fear not, I will be celebrating in true American fashion: surrounded by fellow Americans supping on Turkey, cranberrys, and pie.

Fundraiser Ended

Well as you can see, my field hockey fundraiser, although not entirely successful, definitely brought in some much needed money for my field hockey stick project. The next step is to take the donations I received and plead with STX to work with me to get as many sticks as possible to my school in Ghana. None of this coordination has been easy and I really appreciate everyone who has had any part in supporting me, either financially or with encouraging words.

Thank you so much!

Please Help the Students of Aburaman Senior High School!

As many of you are well aware, my school is in desperate need of sports equipment, field hockey sticks being our number one priority. STX, a very nice field hockey stick manufacturer, has donated 50 sticks to my school but has asked me to raise the money for shipping.

It will cost around $700, which my school simply can't afford.

If just 35 of you out there, donate $20. We can get the sticks here and make some seriously wonderful students lives a lot more joyful.

I've created a fundraising project online so you can make your donations directly to me through Paypal. I will then send the money to STX and they will send us the sticks!

A little goes a long way here in Ghana, and I will be infinitely appreciative of any little bit of help you can give, even if they are just some words of encouragement!

Here are some pictures of the students in need:

Setting up our bamboo hockey net

Smiling for the Camera

Wearing their house colors!

Ghanaian Hamburgers

Ingredients for an Obruni BBQ- Ghana Style

*2 lbs. of beef fillet from Cape Coast Butcher
*2 loafs of bread
*Onions, Garlic, and Ketchup
*One hand crank meat grinder
*3 of your nearest neighbors
*Charcoal Pot with Wire Fencing

Arjun playing grill master

Where there is a will there is a way.

Keeping it Cool

Since my arrival in Ghana, after a slight adjustment period, the weather has been entirely bearable. The rain has been rolling in every few days to fill up my water buckets and cool things off a bit so sleeping has been a breeze. But recently, the rains have stopped and each midday is getting hotter and hotter. Well, now that electricity has been restored to my house and the gigantic freezer has been turned on (to store some corn dough for my headmaster’s daughter) we PCVs are really figure out how to stay cool.


Although, I too have hopped in the giant freezer for a little cool down it is kind of hard to take a good picture of yourself in a freezer. Instead I invited over a nearby Obruni neighbor to take a dip.

Arjun on Ice

Village Opinion Leaders

I think this photo speaks for itself. But my possession of it may warrant a brief explanation. The photo and frame was given to me by one of the Village Opinion leaders. I couldn’t help but giggle and do my best to share it all with you. If you can read the text it is even funnier. I am sure, the gifter has no idea what it says, which is probably better. I am just happy to be in good favor of opinion leaders of my community.

Ants!

So it has come to my attention that ants are eating my home as fast as they possibly can. Their work is quite easily noticed from the outside of the house. The front door has been snacked to oblivion as have many of the window frames. But that is outside, fine…Ants belong outside.

This is the ceiling in my hallway

When the moon is full and I am feeling especially exhausted and lacking of Insecticide, the ants invite themselves in for a little midnight snack. I snapped a few photos on one exceptionally busy evening in my house.

The ceiling in my bedroom, Gulp!

I am hoping I can convince them to postpone consuming the entire house until my work here is done. I guess we shall see.

ANTS!

Well, Aren’t you Sweet!

A new personal record for the strangest bouquet was unarguably shattered today! A good friend of mine Sam, whose wife is quickly becoming my favorite seamstress, presented me with a most beautiful bouquet this afternoon. Sam is an unbelievably generous friend, as most Ghanaians are and has gifted me many consumables from fresh okra to palm oil for cooking. But this time, a bouquet arrived at my house via taxi of not flowers, not chocolate covered strawberries, but Plantains- still on the stem. So many plantains, in fact, I had a rather difficult time carrying into my house after it was delivered. I think when all was said and done, there were around 30 plantains and I managed to consume 20 of them before they began to ripen quickly and were gifted to just about anyone who walked past my house.

Shortly after announcing to Sam I had managed to finish the plantains he assured me another bouquet would be headed my way shortly. Looks like this week’s menu will include plantain pie, plantain juice, plantain bread, and plantain stew.

Enjoy the photo, I think I had already removed several at this point and only then realized the sheer ridiculousness of the matter and went about documenting it.

Sweet New Ride

I don’t think I’ve described the layout of my school and town but it is certainly not for the weak or lazy. I live at one of the points of an equilateral triangle where each leg is approximately 1 mile. The other two vertices are the administrative block of my school (where my ICT lab is located) and the classroom buildings of my lab (where just about 50% of my classes take place). The journey from the ICT lab to the classrooms is so arduous that students actually refer to the location of the campus as “Sweat To”, as in you will break a Sweat To get there because it a mile away and uphill nearly the whole way.

I tried very hard when making the timetable to condense ICT classes to either the beginnings or the very ends of the days so that students needn’t make the trip both down and back. As a result, I on the other hand am walking the Sweat To trail twice and sometimes three times a day. Luckily there are plenty of pure water sellers along the way and snacks too- should the journey require a little blood sugar booster.

Well, walk in the midday sun no more- this PCV just snagged herself a bicycle! A deal, at 30 Ghana Cedis purchased from the school bus driver, who upgraded to a motorcycle. Don’t get too jealous when you see the picture despite its shiny paint job, online the lowest of the 21 gears work. So virtually every time I ride it I look like a cartoon character, pedaling ridiculously fast to keep up with the ups and downs of hills. Like I don’t already look ridiculous enough for a million other reasons. This trusty Blue soldier, is saving me oodles of time!

It’s Not Always All Fun and Games

As I am browsing the previous entries in this blog I am realizing that since my arrival in Ghana, almost four months ago now, not a single rough moment has been captured. I would say this is because the vast majority of my moments here in Ghana have been smiling. Sure, there were some rough days of training, but there was an end in sight. And we all know it is easy to get through the hard stuff when you know when the end is. Well, I’d say it’s high time for my first rough day(s) and a little group therapy (me and all the readers of this blog). I’ll do my best to articulate how I’m feeling and then you all can bombard me with letters, emails, and telephone wishes of love and support. At least that is what I am hoping will happen.

Let me set the scene; Ari sitting on her couch, a little frustrated, a little lonely, and very exhausted despite having left school early to come and sleep for the last 6 hours. I have been very ill for the last few days with only God knows what. My illness is probably just another not-so-friendly visit from Captain G (what we PCVs call our collective nemesis- Giardia), but this time around, I am wiped out. You all thought the fat flush diet cleaned out your system, try a nasty little parasite blowing bubbles in your digestive track. I was hoping to rest up through the weekend and be ready to jump into finally teaching at school. I even made some lesson plans and had such hope for this week. And already on Monday, I’m emptied, undeniably dehydrated, sipping the most disgusting Oral Rehydration Salt mixture and really starting to feel the stress of being a stranger in a strange land. There is nothing like a little physical discomfort to really get you to start missing America.

You all know me, asking for help is not exactly my forte and I had to ask my own student to help me fetch water so I can simply wash myself. Some volunteers are happy to utilize the plethora of student labor available here based on what I like to call “The Pyramid of Respect”. (Essentially, You can be asked to do anything for anyone higher up on the Pyramid than you. Your placement on the pyramid is for the most part based on your age. So students are obvious choices.) But me, I take great pride in exhibiting my strength to the locals- cooking my own meals, washing my own clothes, fetching my own water, and most importantly riding my bicycle all the way up the hill to the classrooms each morning. Asking Sasah (my student and headmaster’s niece who stays in the other half of my bungalow) for help has really taken its toll. I feel weak, defeated by a lack of convenience (in this case running water), and inferior to the 5 year old African girl skipping casually past my house, carrying a 100 pounds of firewood on her tiny little head.

Every PCV will tell you the first three months at site are the hardest and this is certainly one of those hard days. I guess if every day was painless, everyone would take a few years out of their lives to go live thousands of miles from anyplace they call home. Now if I can muster enough energy to boil some water for my bouillon cube dinner, maybe I can wake tomorrow a new woman- recharged and ready to go again! Wish me luck…

First Week of School

This is my Government Issued Box of Chalk which really marked the first day of school.

Well, here in Ghana things move a little more slowly, that is a given. In fact, I am getting entirely used to taking each day as it comes and enjoying the surprise of a seemingly schedule-free existence. When neither transport, nor administrative systems are reliable it is rather intuitive that the first week of school in Ghana might be a little different than the way I remember it from my high school days.

The first day, I found out just how different it is. Because the school’s budget does not include salaries for groundskeepers, the students are asked to come to school bearing their machetes for some heavy weeding. This weeding along with a thorough campus cleanup (sweeping, sponging, and scrubbing) goes on for the entirety of the first week. Classes, for the most part are not held.
After discovering the surplus of free clean labor, I enlisted the help of some strong third year boarding students to give my ICT lab a thorough overall.


This has been for the most part my primary focus since arriving in Abura Dunkwa. I had even measured the dimensions of the lab and drafted an alternative arrangement of desk to be the most spatially efficient. The project of course has only just begun and many things must be purchased in order for the lab to have all 50 of its computers in working condition. As of now we have 28 working computers to serve the approximately 1300 students. It is no easy task, but somehow, we are managing.

Here are some pictures of the big lab clean up:

Givson or Fendar?

Givson or Fendar? These were my choices at the guitar shop and I went with the Givson (obviously!?). An Individually Numbered, Givson Guitar

It’s a great looking guitar, which can really hold a tune even in this ridiculous humidity. At only about $40, who could pass up the hours of potential entertainment! It certainly saved my life when my power was turned off due to unpaid bills. With all this free time and all these candles, it seems it is high time I sit down and teach myself to play. Any requests and dedications?

The Givson resting on some 'Piecepiece' Fabric

Who wouldn’t want some Lerry’s Corn Flakes?

I think this picture speaks for itself

Thank You!

As many of you may know by now my school is in desperate need of sports equipment. Sports, play and incredible role in the formation of a healthy well-balanced individual, in fact in Ghana it seems that team sports like soccer and field hockey are our students primary introduction to creative thinking techniques. Unfortunately, these character building opportunities require resources that here in Ghana, just simply aren't available.

My school here has more serious problems (like only 13 classrooms for 1300 students and not nearly enough desks to sit them all), which occupy the majority of the school's government issued financial resources. Obviously, this is a financial priority for the Administration at Aburaman.

I understand the lack of classrooms, is a problem I single-handedly cannot rectify, however, it is my job as Peace Corps volunteer to use creative thinking to resolve the problems I can; to contribute in anyway I can! And the acquisition of sports equipment has become my new task!

Here is a picture of the Math Teachers at our Trainers vs. Trainees match.

I sent out a call via my parents to gather what they can and am simply overwhelmed by the response they have gotten. It seems that the problem is now not where we can find more items but how to get all of the items to the children of my school. Shipping and import taxes are my new headache, but this is a happy situation to be in, indeed.

I can't tell you how much it means that each one of you has taken time out of your day to think about my students here in Ghana who are more familiar with the 'have nots' than they are with the 'haves' in life.

Thank you from the very bottom of my heart!

As soon as I am able to shoot some photos of my students in action I will post them on here so you can really see the wonderful individuals you are helping.

Sports Equipment Project

Calling all Sports Fans!

Any of you who have any extra sports equipment laying around your house and don't mind sending it to me in Ghana, simply send it to the address listed on right hand side of this blog and I will make sure it gets to the students in need.

Things we need include:

• Soccer Balls
• Field Hockey Balls
• Athletic Jerseys
• Athletic Shorts
• Spiked Sneakers
• Soccer Cleats
• Athletic Shoes
• Shin Guards
• Stopwatches

Most of my students have never even seen NEW sports equipment before, so please keep in mind that what may be old and 'unusable' to you can probably find its second life here in Ghana.

If you have something not listed, that you would like to donate but are not sure whether there is a need, you can
email me at arijking@gmail.com for clarification

Just a little Off the Bottom

So, I gave myself a little hair trim the other morning, just to lighten the load ever so slightly- somewhere between 6 and 8 inches off the bottom. I swear you can’t even tell the difference, I mean I can tell the difference because my head feels lighters, but aesthetically- no difference.

Enjoy the artsy photo I snapped in my moment of follicular purging.

Buy locally, think Globally or is it the other way around?

Well, have recently moved from San Francisco, where buying fresh local produce is the new black, ive been really confronted with the question of whether the American culture can ever really support ‘Buy Locally’ mentality on a large scale. Sure, Californians have it easy- a delicious variety of produce grows all up and down the state. There, you can get anything: lettuce, oranges, strawberries, potatoes, plantains, almonds, chard, you name it, it can grow there. But what of the rest of the country, where the climate is not so cooperative? Indianans would be restricted to…well, corn. And how about the poor Mainers? Can a person really survive on fiddleheads, potatoes, and blueberries?

Here in Ghana, there is no choice, you are forced to buy locally. The flash freezing, nutrient damaging, food preservation techniques employed in the U.S. are simply not in the cards for Ghana at this time. If it doesn’t grow somewhere in Ghana, or really even in the region of your residence, chances are you won’t get it.

The bananas grow next door; you get fish from the ocean or river if you live close enough to these sources or you don’t eat fish at all; and you buy your cabbage, carrots, Kontomire (the Ghanaian equivalent of spinach), Garden Eggs (mini yellow eggplants), onions, and tomatoes from the lady at the market if the season is right. In other words, if it is not mango or avocado season, there isn’t an avocado or a mango to be had. We eat by the laws of nature and that is just the accepted way of life here.

It makes me think that the only way, America could employ, the ‘Buy Purely Local Ingredients’ model is if we are able to sacrifice the concept of meal variety, which we unknowingly value so much. Let me rephrase, which I, personally didn’t know I valued so much.

In Ghana, there are no more than 10 different ingredients you can cook with, which of course gives you extremely limited menu options. Personally, I find it culinarily unstimulating and I’ve only been here for about three months. While cooking tasty meals with Civic Center farmers market ingredients used to be a hobby, now cooking is more of a daily chore, like sweeping the porch, and killing the ants on my counter. Tomato soup or tomato stew? Boiled cabbage or stir fried cabbage? These are my options. I wonder how you can balance the ‘fresh, local’ concept with our cultivated need as Americans for variety? Just something to think about.

For now, I go after every new ingredient I find at my village’s daily market. I swing by, see if there are any new faces with new things to try, and buy them by what I like to call the 5,000 rule. If I see something I haven’t seen before I buy 5,000 worth( or 50 Ghana pesewa, about the equivalent of $.35). I take my new discovery home, investigate it thoroughly, usually boil, steam or fry it and see what happens. Here is a picture of my latest 5,000 Rule purchase.

Crab Elbows?

After consulting a few other volunteers, via text message, we’ve agreed to refer to them as Crab elbows or forearms- they are not quite the claws but not quite the whole arm either. I deducted it was crab as the lady I bought them from was also selling whole crabs. She advised me these were the best ones to buy. Hey, why not?!

Updates from Home!

It is always nice to hear and especially see updates from America about friends and of course family. After a nice long conversation with my Mom the other day she mentioned that our house in Maine had recently gotten a little upgrade- a beautiful new metal roof. This means no more shoveling of the roof which for my Mom and Dad is truly a gift from god. Mom, was nice enough to send a beautiful picture of the new roof.

I just loved the picture so much, I thought I’d share!

A Festival in Cape Coast

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this thus far but Ghanaians, much like San Franciscans, really love to party! A short trip down the road to the Regional Capital, Cape Coast, gave me the opportunity to see just how much.

The city was brimming with people at a yet another bumping festival. Although, I was unable to get a consistent answer about what the festival was celebrating, I believe it had something to do with the a celebration of the Fante people.

Allow me to explain: Ghana is made up of 9 or 10 regions (depend on whether you count the Greater Accra region) and it is my understanding that within each region a certain tribes dominate. I, for example, live in the Central Region where the Fante people are the dominant tribe. The legend goes that the Fante people moved to the region by conquering the Akaan people who had originally come down from Burkina Faso. The Fante people were lead by three great settlers who are represented by three animals, I can’t remember which animals at this point but I am sure I will learn a lot more about the ethnic history of my villagers as time goes on!

Anyway, this festival is a Fante Festival and it included a parade of all the Fante Paramount Chiefs, in addition to the Chief of Cape Coast who I hear is an expensive man to meet. My friend Nancy who teaches are at the School for the Deaf in Cape Coast proper, told me it will cost you about $50 and a couple bottles of Schnapps to even go and greet him. Well, I may not get to meet him but at least I got his picture!

Enjoy the photos, I sure had a great time taking them.

The Asafo Whale?

The Asafo waving a flag

Before a chief is paraded down the street he must preceded by his Asafo. The Asafo are kind of like the chief's militia, made up of the strongest most honorable warriors in the village. This is the flag of one Fante Asafo, with a crowd of warriors parading proudly as their chief makes his way through the procession. Following the Asafo is the paramount stool. This is an object of worship and represents all the power of the chief.

Here is a woman carrying one of the marble stools on her head. She is being held/dragged along by an assistant to represent the power of the stool being too much for just one human to control.

Voted by the Central Region PCVs in attendance, best dressed parader

These women and men were painted with white paint in designs all over their bodies. I am not sure what they represent but they directly preceded the Cheif of Cape Coast so...they're important!

Despite the illegality of homosexuality, no Ghanaian festival is complete without a few people dressing in drag. This guy had some killer pumps!


And Now Presenting...the Paramount Chiefs!

The Chief of Cape CoastThe Chief of Abura. He is my the Paramount Chief for the district my village is in! I yelled extra loud as he passed by.
This guy was a crowd favorite as he was throwing out candy and plastic jewelry. Clearly not his first rodeo!
Yes there are glorious Lady Chiefs too! We call them Queen Mothers instead. She was definitely my favorite of the few that were paraded.

Following the chiefs were of course a few people on stilts. I mean, what's a parade without stilts. We ended up joining in the tail end of the parade and dancing our way down the block! A good time was had by all.

All in A Day's Work

Here is a lovely photo of what laundry day looks like for me, here in Ghana.

Man do I miss that Post Street Laundromat right now.

Yes, it is true each dirty garment must be hand-washed in a bucket, rinsed properly (to avoid detergent itch), and line dried. It is extremely humid in the Central Region and so nothing ever really dries completely but I can’t complain. Dry enough is good enough for me. I’ve been told that sometimes during the rainy season it can take days for clothes to dry and just when they do…torrential downpour. I am sure you will have the chance to read a furious blog post in the future when I experience this tragedy first hand.

Back to School Shopping

School is scheduled to begin sometime in the second or third week of September and so, like any good teacher, I went back to school shopping for some sweet new Ghanaian fabrics to have made into some acceptable teacher wear. Now we must all keep our fingers crossed that the seamstress I bring them too doesn’t sculpt them into un-wearable monstrosities. It happens more often than you can imagine.

I will post pictures of the final results later, but here are the fabrics I chose:There are four different fabrics there.
I even got some fake Kente print- the light blue one, second from the left.
Wish me luck!

Meet the Neighbors

Introducing...My backyard friends

Well, now that I am all moved in...I think it is time to introduce you to a few of my noisiest neighbors. The sheep belong to the Director of Education of Ghana. I am still a little unsure why they live in my back yard but they sure do help me get rid of my leftovers. They have such expressive faces and love posing for pictures. So, Enjoy the photos:

This one I refer to as "Willy Nelson", although because rumor on the block is that he was born on Tuesday, his Ghanaian name would be Kwabena.

This is the newest member of our sheep family. Like mother, like daughter (or son- frankly I can't tell). Ridiculously adorable though.

Acronym Upgrade!

I don’t know that I have ever been to a graduation that I’ve enjoyed. I think that by law they are required to be disproportionately sweaty, uncomfortable, and of course, mind numbing. It is sort of the final, final exam to make sure you are really committed to getting through the whole process. Our Swearing in Ceremony, was no exception.Everybody showed up in there newly tailored Ghanaian threads, looking good as ever. We posed endlessly for pictures, heard several speeches, performed some silly skits in our target languages, did a cultural performance, and most important took the oath of service. After all was said and done, my acronym PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) was upgraded to PCV.
This is "The Kukurantumi Boys Club". They have all been assigned to teach Math in Junior High Schools around Ghana.

Here, we have the Health/Water/Sanitation Crew (Health/Wat/San). Their jobs include anything from managing water sourcing projects to volunteering in HIV/AIDS clinics.

A few brave volunteers performed some traditional African drumming in front of our homestay families and did a lovely job at that. I ended up playing the shaker for the last drumming/dancing number.