Monday, May 10, 2010
More Posts
I just wanted to give you a heads up that I was finally able to post blog entries from March and April. You may need to go into the Archives to look at them due to their untimely posting. I hope you enjoy!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Building Stuff
When we weren’t painting we were building. Alex and I made a pretty mean carpentry team. Here are a few photos of the projects we completed:
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Palm Wine
After the stop at the mining site it was on to the place where Palm Wine was being tapped. In case you are curious, Palm wine is a semi-alcoholic drink very common in Ghana. It is made from the liquid in the palm tree and the process requires a palm tree be dug up by the roots and tipped over on its side so all the liquid from the roots drains out of the sides. Palm wine can be drank fresh in which case it tastes like a Smirnoff ice mixed with coconut milk or it can be further distilled and made into an evil hard alcohol from hell called akpeteshie. Fresh palm wine is tasty and refreshing, akpeteshie gives me a week long hangover.
Palm wine tapping sites are generally located in the bush near a grove of palm trees. The one we visited on this particular day happened to be next to a river which was perfect for cooling the copper pipes in the process of distilling the akpeteshie from the fresh palm wine.
Here are some photos to enjoy:

Palm wine tapping sites are generally located in the bush near a grove of palm trees. The one we visited on this particular day happened to be next to a river which was perfect for cooling the copper pipes in the process of distilling the akpeteshie from the fresh palm wine.
Here are some photos to enjoy:
A scary dude pounding fufu
Gold Mining
Hiawa is in the Western Region and right in the thick of Gold Country. Although the omnipresence of Gold mining is conspicuous (new SUVs often zipping through the town filled with foreigner prospectors), I had never had the opportunity to visit an actual gold mining site. The men who work the mines are called Galamse boys and are known for being very strong, a little rowdy, and always throwing their money around. Galamse work pays very well sometimes up to 70 Ghana cedis a day (roughly $50) and in the Western and Ashanti regions Galamse work is easy to find. This all poses an interesting problem for promoting the value of education in these communities. Considering most Ghanaian teachers make roughly 8 Ghana cedis a day and even well paid professionals less than 30 Ghc, how is it that you can justify coming to school and working hard to better your mind when with your body alone you can accumulate quite a lot of wealth. In fact, Alex has two students the Aguri brothers, who live less than a 10 minute walk from several mining sites but a 2 hour walk from their JHS. How can you possibly explain the value of walking two hours to school when simply working across the street could make you a very rich man by the age of 30. It is a problem indeed.
My mining site experience went a little something like this: One afternoon after a long day of painting Paa Yaw met us in his taxi and asked us if we’d care to see how palm wine was made (more on this later). This offer usually includes a delightful walk through the woods and frankly a glass of Palm wine was just what this girl needed after a long day of World Painting. We drove a several minutes out of town, down a dirt road, and were informed that we would be making one stop at the mining site before continuing on to our Palm Wine destination.
I honestly don’t know what to say about this particular experience other than my jaw dropped to the ground as I stepped over the ridge to see a large pit full of workers mining gold by hand. This is no 49’s gold rush operation but more of a man-as-machine situation. The sound of the pit alone was astounding with its rhythmic clanging and banging. It was an assembly line of sorts- one man would place a shovel load of earth into a tin pan which would be tossed to another man, again to another man, and then handed to another who would dump the dirt through a hand-cranked sieve. The work seemed never ending-- tin bowls being tossed every this way and that but all in perfect rhythmic efficiency. It was truly a site to behold. The pictures definitely do not do it justice and I am unable to post the video I took.
My mining site experience went a little something like this: One afternoon after a long day of painting Paa Yaw met us in his taxi and asked us if we’d care to see how palm wine was made (more on this later). This offer usually includes a delightful walk through the woods and frankly a glass of Palm wine was just what this girl needed after a long day of World Painting. We drove a several minutes out of town, down a dirt road, and were informed that we would be making one stop at the mining site before continuing on to our Palm Wine destination.
I honestly don’t know what to say about this particular experience other than my jaw dropped to the ground as I stepped over the ridge to see a large pit full of workers mining gold by hand. This is no 49’s gold rush operation but more of a man-as-machine situation. The sound of the pit alone was astounding with its rhythmic clanging and banging. It was an assembly line of sorts- one man would place a shovel load of earth into a tin pan which would be tossed to another man, again to another man, and then handed to another who would dump the dirt through a hand-cranked sieve. The work seemed never ending-- tin bowls being tossed every this way and that but all in perfect rhythmic efficiency. It was truly a site to behold. The pictures definitely do not do it justice and I am unable to post the video I took.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Painting Stuff
Next term I have grandiose plans to work with my Visual Arts classes to slather my school with painted murals. One of these paintings is going to be a world map. Having never actually drawn or painted a world map before, and given the enormous number of students I will have to control in implementing this project in my own community, I thought why not use some of 4 week vacation to go help another volunteer paint a map at his school. A little practice round if you will.
So, just after festival time in Abura Dunkwa, I headed to Hiawa to paint a world map at the Hiawa Catholic JHS with Alex. With the exception of the walls of the school not being perfectly perpendicular and thus causing our map to look a little crooked, I think a great job was done by all- by all I mean Alex and I, as we drew and painted to whole thing after realizing the project took far too much skill for adolescent Ghanaian hands. I believe that my SHS Visual Arts students, however, will be quite capable of completing the map themselves. All of the skills required are well within the topics we’ve covered in our Picture Making classes this year.
Here are some pictures of the process:
It sure does help to have a monstrously tall friend to comfortably sketch those hard to reach areas.
So, just after festival time in Abura Dunkwa, I headed to Hiawa to paint a world map at the Hiawa Catholic JHS with Alex. With the exception of the walls of the school not being perfectly perpendicular and thus causing our map to look a little crooked, I think a great job was done by all- by all I mean Alex and I, as we drew and painted to whole thing after realizing the project took far too much skill for adolescent Ghanaian hands. I believe that my SHS Visual Arts students, however, will be quite capable of completing the map themselves. All of the skills required are well within the topics we’ve covered in our Picture Making classes this year.
Here are some pictures of the process:
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Ice Cream Truck?!
There is a festival during the Easter holidays in my town and so naturally I invited a slue of friends to come tear up the town with me. After several beers and hours of dancing we emerged from a local hotspot only to here the delicate ding-a-linging of an Ice Cream Truck?! Seriously, if I didn’t have this picture of Alex buying a Vanilla cone (the first of three) I’d be pretty sure it was just another mefloquin hallucination.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Gender Youth and Development Logo Contest
I really enjoy posting pictures of my students’ artwork (mostly so I can tell them that their art is on the internet) so here are a few submissions I got from my Visual Arts students for a GYD logo competition that was held. GYD is an organization within Peace Corps which does great things for women and children in Ghana.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride
Hitchhiking may be a thing of the past in America what with our overwhelming paranoia and strict law against in on nearly all major highwaysl, but here in Ghana it is still a great shoestring method of transport. It is surprising how eager people are to pull over pick up a few Obruni and sometimes even go out of their way to tote them to their destinations. Gotta love that Ghanaian hospitality.
Most of the time the recipe for a free ride goes something like this: with your backpack snuggly at your back--you gotta look like you want it--position your Chacos along the roadside, hold out your left palm and gently tap the back of your right hand with two fingers extended against it. This is the Ghanaian sign for begging (it gets over used in my classroom when I am BEGGING my hundreds of students to be quiet while I try to teach). Within 10 minutes, someone will stop a few seconds down the road- quickly jog to the car, greet the driver and any passengers that may be present (I like to compliment ladies clothing, it gives you something to talk about after you are invited in the car) mention your destination to the driver and see how close he can get you. Generally once the driver stops, he will feel obligated to take you even a small way down the road, the way I see it- the closer the better. Once in the vehicle, make small talk with the driver, he usually has a cousin living in the US or is himself a resident simply on vacation in Ghana, returning to the US any day now. I whip out all the stops and try to use as much Twi/Fante as I know and a good fufu joke always goes a long way. Most of the time the rides are uneventful, maybe some grooving reggae tunes will set the pace or a quick stop to pick someone up or drop someone off will be made. This is most of the time- however occasionally, you get lucky—real lucky.
On my way from Kumasi to Kukurantumi a few other volunteers and I were fortunate enough to bum a ride with two Ghanaian gentlemen in excellent spirits (that may be a pun because I am pretty sure at least one of them was drunk which I am realizing is generally the case when you are with more than one Ghanaian). Sure enough they were cousins and one of them, who lived in the Bronx, was returning to the US any day now. The ride started out in the usual fashion, we pretended to love fufu and groundnut soup and they talked about President Obama. Just as the Bronx resident was confessing his secret love for George W. Bush (I believe his exact words were “He is never afraid of any man”, whatever that means) we see a most hilarious site. Beth, one of my fellow PCVs spots it first- a Rastafarian on a motorcycle with a Baboon clinging to his back. The man is driving on the shoulder because his motorcycle doesn’t have the power to keep up with the big dogs on the Accra-Kumasi highway, so naturally we zip by him. I barely even caught a glimpse. However, Beth convinces the guys to pull over so the motorcyclist can catch up with us and then we can snap some photos. It was truly a ridiculous site. Enjoy!

As if that wasn’t enough laughter for one ride, not more than 40 minutes down the road, the driver sees someone on the side of the road holding up a dead animal. We stop, he buys the animal, more photo ops. I am still not sure what kind of animal it was but man did it really smell up the back seat. Photos wo ha:
After the bush meat was purchased it of course needed to be butchered which was yet another stop on our wild adventure. A few hours later we arrived safely at the Bunso junction. Hopped in a tro and headed for the hubsite. Hitching isn’t always the fastest way to get there but it certainly is the cheapest.
Most of the time the recipe for a free ride goes something like this: with your backpack snuggly at your back--you gotta look like you want it--position your Chacos along the roadside, hold out your left palm and gently tap the back of your right hand with two fingers extended against it. This is the Ghanaian sign for begging (it gets over used in my classroom when I am BEGGING my hundreds of students to be quiet while I try to teach). Within 10 minutes, someone will stop a few seconds down the road- quickly jog to the car, greet the driver and any passengers that may be present (I like to compliment ladies clothing, it gives you something to talk about after you are invited in the car) mention your destination to the driver and see how close he can get you. Generally once the driver stops, he will feel obligated to take you even a small way down the road, the way I see it- the closer the better. Once in the vehicle, make small talk with the driver, he usually has a cousin living in the US or is himself a resident simply on vacation in Ghana, returning to the US any day now. I whip out all the stops and try to use as much Twi/Fante as I know and a good fufu joke always goes a long way. Most of the time the rides are uneventful, maybe some grooving reggae tunes will set the pace or a quick stop to pick someone up or drop someone off will be made. This is most of the time- however occasionally, you get lucky—real lucky.
On my way from Kumasi to Kukurantumi a few other volunteers and I were fortunate enough to bum a ride with two Ghanaian gentlemen in excellent spirits (that may be a pun because I am pretty sure at least one of them was drunk which I am realizing is generally the case when you are with more than one Ghanaian). Sure enough they were cousins and one of them, who lived in the Bronx, was returning to the US any day now. The ride started out in the usual fashion, we pretended to love fufu and groundnut soup and they talked about President Obama. Just as the Bronx resident was confessing his secret love for George W. Bush (I believe his exact words were “He is never afraid of any man”, whatever that means) we see a most hilarious site. Beth, one of my fellow PCVs spots it first- a Rastafarian on a motorcycle with a Baboon clinging to his back. The man is driving on the shoulder because his motorcycle doesn’t have the power to keep up with the big dogs on the Accra-Kumasi highway, so naturally we zip by him. I barely even caught a glimpse. However, Beth convinces the guys to pull over so the motorcyclist can catch up with us and then we can snap some photos. It was truly a ridiculous site. Enjoy!
As if that wasn’t enough laughter for one ride, not more than 40 minutes down the road, the driver sees someone on the side of the road holding up a dead animal. We stop, he buys the animal, more photo ops. I am still not sure what kind of animal it was but man did it really smell up the back seat. Photos wo ha:
After the bush meat was purchased it of course needed to be butchered which was yet another stop on our wild adventure. A few hours later we arrived safely at the Bunso junction. Hopped in a tro and headed for the hubsite. Hitching isn’t always the fastest way to get there but it certainly is the cheapest.
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