tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57206552805007438432024-03-13T11:30:13.527-07:00Life in Ghana.I will be writing about my day to day life in Ghana. Obviously, The Ghanian culture is very different from the American culture, so I will be writing about the challenges this new culture presents me with, what I enjoy about it, pretty much anything that comes to mind having to do with Ghana that I feel like writing about.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-7969360608050604692009-06-17T01:36:00.001-07:002009-06-24T04:45:11.961-07:00Traveling Photos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjirao-_-gI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/T47qPEJUKZA/s1600-h/IMG_0861.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjirao-_-gI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/T47qPEJUKZA/s200/IMG_0861.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348213031669070338" border="0" /></a><br /><br />March 28-29th: A weekend in Kumasi. Rich, Boris, and I in Kumasi for the Ghana vs. Benin World Cup qualifier game. The game was a bit dull, but other than that the atmosphere was great and we had a rocking good time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjir449BaSI/AAAAAAAAAHY/HDH5VynClv4/s1600-h/IMG_0862.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjir449BaSI/AAAAAAAAAHY/HDH5VynClv4/s200/IMG_0862.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348213551351818530" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiraYvSLTI/AAAAAAAAAHI/jx8hAi8gWNI/s1600-h/IMG_0860.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiraYvSLTI/AAAAAAAAAHI/jx8hAi8gWNI/s200/IMG_0860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348213027308186930" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjir5eLWJ_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/k80eLe3YONo/s1600-h/IMG_0863.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjir5eLWJ_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/k80eLe3YONo/s200/IMG_0863.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348213561344010226" border="0" /></a><br />April 9th-13th: Easter trip with family to Kwahu, Eastern Region. For Easter weekend I traveled with my family to their hometown of Kwahu, a nice little town located in the "mountains." The mountains did not qualify as mountains to me, but nonetheless it was a beautiful place to be and I had a great time. The well to the left was the one from which we got our water for bathing, mmm!!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjitgvrAtJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/9RG7w6mmsYs/s1600-h/IMG_0864.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjitgvrAtJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/9RG7w6mmsYs/s200/IMG_0864.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348215335566750866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjitg4cL8lI/AAAAAAAAAHw/miaPfiFwPs4/s1600-h/IMG_0865.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjitg4cL8lI/AAAAAAAAAHw/miaPfiFwPs4/s200/IMG_0865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348215337920492114" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiuUOasjqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/fcW97PJYVBA/s1600-h/IMG_0866.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiuUOasjqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/fcW97PJYVBA/s200/IMG_0866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348216219993149090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">April 17th-24th, trip to Mole National Park, Northern Region, and ferry trip down the Volta Lake.</span><br /><br />A village along the roadside near Tamale, Northern Region.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiuUVYEteI/AAAAAAAAAIA/9_fHdrQ3XvM/s1600-h/IMG_0867.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiuUVYEteI/AAAAAAAAAIA/9_fHdrQ3XvM/s200/IMG_0867.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348216221861197282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Dying of heat on the bus in Tamale, Northern Region.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiwFhNKJ7I/AAAAAAAAAII/N2o5BTixHjE/s1600-h/IMG_0868.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiwFhNKJ7I/AAAAAAAAAII/N2o5BTixHjE/s200/IMG_0868.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348218166361860018" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiwGLnFyFI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/tCPGtNASto4/s1600-h/IMG_0869.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiwGLnFyFI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/tCPGtNASto4/s200/IMG_0869.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348218177744914514" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Elephants may very well be the most amazing animals on earth..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixDhMXdLI/AAAAAAAAAIY/7FL5cKcyqU0/s1600-h/IMG_0870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixDhMXdLI/AAAAAAAAAIY/7FL5cKcyqU0/s200/IMG_0870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348219231510426802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />These african swine were anything but wild.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixDz02WzI/AAAAAAAAAIg/GThHVV99bxw/s1600-h/IMG_0871.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixDz02WzI/AAAAAAAAAIg/GThHVV99bxw/s200/IMG_0871.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348219236512062258" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Crossing the Volta Lake.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixaXdHvrI/AAAAAAAAAIo/qnA3aJ08AY0/s1600-h/IMG_0872.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixaXdHvrI/AAAAAAAAAIo/qnA3aJ08AY0/s200/IMG_0872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348219624033337010" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Cattle being loaded onto the fairy, it was shall we say, a multi-purpose boat...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixasRDI-I/AAAAAAAAAIw/qvg4a5ZDN7I/s1600-h/IMG_0873.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjixasRDI-I/AAAAAAAAAIw/qvg4a5ZDN7I/s200/IMG_0873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348219629619848162" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Ghanaian sunsets are absolutely spectacular, this picture does not begin to capture the beauty.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjix-FmwnkI/AAAAAAAAAI4/gda036AfGGM/s1600-h/IMG_0874.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjix-FmwnkI/AAAAAAAAAI4/gda036AfGGM/s200/IMG_0874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348220237717216834" border="0" /></a><br /><br />From left to right: Rich, Boris, Dylan, Me, Rose, Brittany, Katie, David, and Hailey. Rich, Boris and I are the only AFSers, the rest are a wonderful group of volunteer teachers we met in Larrabunga, the village we stayed in outside of Mole Nation Park.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjix-Y4VeOI/AAAAAAAAAJA/pukZBneuJlA/s1600-h/IMG_0876.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjix-Y4VeOI/AAAAAAAAAJA/pukZBneuJlA/s200/IMG_0876.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348220242891208930" border="0" /></a><br />After the cattle, the boat was absolutely crammed full of yams, there was barely any room to sleep! (I take that back, there wasn't any room to sleep! I spent the night on a bench that was at most 2 1/2 feet long.)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiyjPHrMEI/AAAAAAAAAJI/5H5_cny8vTg/s1600-h/IMG_0877.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiyjPHrMEI/AAAAAAAAAJI/5H5_cny8vTg/s200/IMG_0877.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348220875926351938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />A small fishing village on the shores of the Volta Lake.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiyjKUu1WI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nK0_McRLiEw/s1600-h/IMG_0878.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjiyjKUu1WI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nK0_McRLiEw/s200/IMG_0878.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348220874638939490" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The front of the ferry, as I said completely stuffed with yams. Ickk.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjizgfWqMPI/AAAAAAAAAJY/MDt_vGF37yg/s1600-h/IMG_0879.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjizgfWqMPI/AAAAAAAAAJY/MDt_vGF37yg/s200/IMG_0879.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348221928256188658" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Takoradi, Western Region, May 27th-30th.</span><br />A nice group photo in Takoradi, Dylan, David, Me, Margaret, Boris, and Rich.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjizguxRmuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gdsJerpGiLI/s1600-h/IMG_0880.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SjizguxRmuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/gdsJerpGiLI/s200/IMG_0880.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348221932394355426" border="0" /></a>Rich, Boris, Dylan, and a group of small school girls at a coastal village near Takoradi.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjiz9siK4tI/AAAAAAAAAJo/9IfxSaTD1fg/s1600-h/IMG_0881.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjiz9siK4tI/AAAAAAAAAJo/9IfxSaTD1fg/s200/IMG_0881.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348222430010335954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Crodile search up a river near Takoradi. No crocodiles found unfortunately, the only exciting part was Dylan (behind me) brilliantly diving off the boat and slamming his head onto the bottom of the shallow river. Miraculously he was O.K. other than a sore neck and chest.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjiz950ubuI/AAAAAAAAAJw/o1DUIGvQnss/s1600-h/IMG_0882.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/Sjiz950ubuI/AAAAAAAAAJw/o1DUIGvQnss/s200/IMG_0882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348222433577823970" border="0" /></a>A supposedly crocodile infested waterway... No crocs but still a nice boat ride.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-14408451679881993422009-06-14T14:34:00.000-07:002009-06-14T14:36:16.956-07:00Traveling and MalariaTo my incredible disbelief today is June 10th! Forty weeks down<br />now and just three to go, my oh my time has flown by. These past nine<br />months have certainly been an amazing chunk of my life and I am without a<br />tinge of regret glad that I chose to come here. That said, I am so very<br />excited to be coming home and I cannot wait to talk to many of you face to<br />face about the experiences I have had here. Alright, well on to today's<br />subject, two things that took up much of my time in April and May, traveling<br />and malaria.<br /> First I will get the unpleasant out of the way. After 8 1/2 months in<br />Ghana I was pretty cockily confident that my good health was going to get me<br />through these ten months without having to deal with malaria. WRONG. The<br />nasty little bug was merely waiting until I least expected it to hit me.<br />Before coming to Ghana and also prior to getting it, malaria was of course<br />one of the aspects to African life that I hoped to avoid, but as a precursor<br />let me just say that malaria was not quite as unpleasant as I thought it<br />would be. It still wasn't fun though. The first signs of the sickness were<br />a very painful headache and even worse pains in my neck that made it so that<br />I couldn't really turn my head. Next followed a really lovely cycle between<br />burning hot fever accompanied by fountain like sweating and then arctic like<br />chills. When the fever and chills hit I thought that a trip to the hospital<br />would probably be a wise idea. At the hospital the Doctor, who was a very<br />kind and caring man I should mention, diagnosed me with malaria after I had<br />barely let out the words "headache" and "fever" ( unfortunately I imagine<br />that even if a person were to only have a common fever or flue of some sort<br />they would still be diagnosed with malaria here). After the diagnosis he<br />sent me to a nurse who proceeded to give me two lovely shots in the buttocks<br />as well as prescribing me several anti-malarial drugs. The shots took<br />effect very quickly, first by completely numbing my left butt cheek and<br />giving me a lovely walk that would have without a doubt earned a place in<br />the "Ministry of Funny Walks" episode of Monty Python, and more importantly<br />by all but making my fever and chills disappear. From that point on effects<br />of the malaria lasted for almost a week more, but not nearly so bad as<br />before my visit to the hospital. I had some odd little occurrences such as<br />horrible stabbing chest pains that woke me up terrified in the middle of one<br />night (the thought of having a serious and sudden health ailment here in<br />Sunyani is scary because the hospital really couldn't handle such an event),<br />as well as terribly uncomfortable and itchy rashes that appeared at night<br />for several days. All in all it was not a terribly fun spell of time, and<br />one that sapped a great amount of energy and appetite, but I suppose, just<br />another African Experience to cross off of my list.<br /> Now on to the fun! Traveling. Roaming about Ghana has without a doubt<br />been the fun factor for me during my time here. Life here in Sunyani<br />has been educational, eye opening, it has made me a more patient and<br />tolerant person I believe, but to be honest, a lot of the time it<br />hasn't been all that fun, so I am very happy that through traveling I<br />have been able to have some much needed good times. To begin with,<br />let me just say that I am going give a more detailed report on my<br />specific trips through a photo entry on my blog,<br /><a href="http://www.wesfinger.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">www.wesfinger.blogspot.com</a>, so please check for that next week around<br />Tuesday or Wednesday. For today though, I want to comment on the ease<br />of traveling in Ghana. Not only is there a great public bus system<br />that reaches to almost every corner of the country, and if a bus<br />doesn't work out there are always tro tros (big vans, cheap but not so<br />safe) and taxis, but there are also cheap and usually comfortable<br />hotels and guest houses in every town and city and of course food<br />stalls everywhere. You can easily travel for four or five days for<br />under 200 Ghana Cedis, the equivalent of $135, which I doubt is<br />possible in any first world country. And for that 200 Ghana cedis,<br />you are not getting a cheap, bare bones experience. In Ghana there is<br />so much to see, beautiful coastlines, rain forests, African animals<br />galore, bustling cities full of life and colorful culture, and much<br />more. There are a few downsides, such as poorly maintained roads that<br />making getting around a bit tough, but nothing that has discouraged me<br />from traveling. So far I have been on five wonderful trips,and I can<br />honestly say that in the many days of travel I have had I have not had<br />a single unpleasant day and barely any situations that I would label<br />as more than slightly unpleasant.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-77604187505895104492009-04-08T02:30:00.000-07:002009-04-08T02:31:40.352-07:00Big City Pros and ConsWell I cannot believe that it has now been well over a month since I last wrote to you all, my only excuse is that time for me has been in turbo-charged fast forward mode for the last month. (Well that and the fact that the Internet has barely been working here for the past three weeks..) The reason for this is that March was a fantastic month, definitely the best of my seven so far here in Ghana, and when I am having fun time to a large extent stops mattering. The main reason March was so good is due to a couple trips, an AFS organized trip to Accra March 4th-9th, and then a trip with two of my fellow AFSers Rich and Boris to Kumasi for the last weekend of the month. Going to both Accra and Kumasi was incredibly interesting as they are Ghana's two biggest cities, and while on the two trip I couldn't help but think that my stay might have been a bit more interesting had I ended up in either Accra or Kumasi. At the same time though I saw ways in which being in a big city would be lacking, and so for today's post I want to talk about some big city pros and cons.Big City Pros: #1. More places to go, things to do, people to see. One of the most attractive things to me about Kumasi and Accra is that they are much more interesting places for to spend one's free time than Sunyani. While I am at home, here in Sunyani, my options are incredibly limited. I can just sit at home and read, which I do much of the time, I can come here to the internet café, I can go to a local hotel pool and swim, or I can go to local restaurants or bars when a football match is playing on the TV and watch that. Much of the time though, I just end up sitting at home reading, or when my eyes get too tired for that I just end up sitting and doing absolutely nothing at all. In Accra and Kumasi by contrast, there is a much wider array of options for activities to keep my boredom at bay, albeit more expensive options. Accra for instance, just to name a couple, has a bowling alley, a couple movie theatres, and lots of actual cafes where I could go to get coffee and just hang out. Kumasi I don’t think has malls like Accra, but it does just have a lot of nice restaurants and places to hang out, which as I said Sunyani is sadly lacking. The other nice thing about the two big cities is there are a lot more volunteers and just more people from other countries in general, so I think I would have been able to meet a lot more interesting people who I could have gotten on well with. The movie theatres and malls that Accra has I can do without just fine, but I really do wish I had some place here in Sunyani where I could just go to hang out and meet cool people, if I had that I think my boredom problem would largely be solved. #2. People are more Accepting. While in Accra and Kumasi I can count the number of times I was called Obruni on one hand, and I have to say that it was a big relief to almost feel like I fit in after feeling like such a sore thumb here in Sunyani. Of course while I was in both the big cities I was by all means still a minority, still one white face in a crowd of black faces, but I think in those places people are more used to seeing Obrunis than here in Sunyani or other small Ghanaian cities, so they don’t feel the need to shout Obruni or other things I have said to me here in Sunyani. People here in Sunyani generally mean no harm when they call me Obruni, but it still gets a bit tiring day after day and it was very pleasant not to have to deal with that while in the big cities. #3. My third and final big city pro is the big city buzz. Sunyani as I have said is a pretty slow sleepy place, and that can be nice sometimes when I am wanting to be in a place that is simple and easy to navigate. However, while in Kumasi and Accra I was quite entranced with the feeling of being in a human beehive. There are so many people in both places and so much going on, and it is exciting to be in a place like that after spending so much time in a simply small city. In both the big cities there is always something going on, be it live music at a club or a football match, there is always something going that is exciting and fun, which I can't say for Sunyani.<br />Big City Cons:<br /> #1. Transportation/Traffic. One of the worst aspects of visiting both cities, especially Accra, was the problem of getting from point A to point B in a timely manner. In Sunyani transportation is simple, I walk from my house to the road, stick my hand out for a taxi, ride in one for a few minutes for a mere 25 pesewas (less than 25 cents) and voila, I am in town and everyplace I need to go is within walking distance once I am out of the taxi. In Kumasi I actually didn't have too many problems with traffic, but Accra was horrible. While I was staying there I had to travel across town several times, and each trip took well over an hour. The traffic was absolutely horrible, and it wasn't helped by the fact that many of the roads are not very good. On top of that, it is very expensive to go long distances in a taxi, so the mode of transportation that is cheapest is a tro tro. Tro tros are big vans that when crammed full, and they always are crammed full, hold probably around 25 people, and although riding in one isn't terribly uncomfortable, it is certainly more of a hassle than my simple taxi ride here in Sunyani. #2. The second big city con is the availability of many western world things like malls and burger joints. I know I also listed this as a pro, but that was purely from a personal enjoyment point of view. I am sure that if I was in either Kumasi or Accra I would greatly enjoy having the option to chow down on the occasional burger or go out for a movie now and then, but if I look at my stay here from a purely objective point of view I am very glad that I do not have easy access to those things. This year for me has been about living like an average Ghanaian does, like my family members do, and and my siblings certainly do not have the money to go to a movie often or to buy a burger or a pizza, even if they had access to those things. #3. Big city complexity. Although there is very little to do here in Sunyani, it is nice to know the city very well and because of this be able to find everything I need with ease. As I have said both Accra and Kumasi are huge sprawling cities, and even if I had lived in those places for these past seven months I know I would still not know them nearly as well as I know Sunyani. Having a big hopping city is nice when I'm looking for fun, but on a day to day basis I definitely prefer having a place I know and can navigate easily. Well friends, that wraps up my writing for today. As of today I have been in Ghana for seven months and three days, which I really cannot believe. However, life as I have known it for these past seven months has recently changed as I have finished with school and am now volunteering at a place called Hanukkah Children's Home. I think this change will add a lot to my experience, and here in the next couple weeks once I have worked at Hanukkah for a bit longer I will certainly write about how this new chapter is treating me.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-20062344848954205022009-02-24T01:18:00.000-08:002009-02-24T01:22:23.423-08:00An Issue of HonestyIn my last post, I talked a bit about my family, and I feel as if I did a decent job of giving a basic impression of what my family and family life is like. However, there was one big thing I forgot to mention, and that is the issue of honesty.<br /> The integrity of my family, namely my brothers, first came into question last October, not all that long after I had arrived in Sunyani.<i> </i>Over a period of a few days, I had five Cedis (a dollar is worth 1.2 Ghana Cedis)<i> </i>stolen from my suitcase, as well as a Swiss Army Knife given to me by my grandfather before my departure that was very dear to me. In response to this I questioned all my brothers and alerted my host mom, but I wasn't able to find out who the thief was so I bought a padlock to guard against further theft. The lock seemed to have solved the problem until just about a month ago, at which time I received a couple boxes from the U.S. and theft reared its ugly head at me once again. The boxes contained a whole lot of books, which nobody but me seemed too interested in, as well as a lot of candy bars and other food items that everybody else were definitely interested in. When the boxes arrived I shared out close to half the candy bars as well as some delicious chocolate covered espresso beans, and I thought I had been pretty darn generous. However, candy bars and the espresso beans soon started disappearing in large quantities, and I realized that someone or multiple someones hadn't thought I was all that generous. At first I thought the problem was that the thief had found a key to my lock that I had misplaced, so I bought a new lock, but on the same day that I bought the lock more stuff disappeared so I then assumed the trickster knew how to pick locks. At that point I realized that I needed to figure out who the culprit was, so I immediately talked to all my brothers and let everybody know what was going on. As you might imagine this didn't really work, because believe it or not thieves don't particularly like to own up to their crimes if they aren't under any pressure. I honestly don't think I would have been able to get anywhere if it weren't for my host brother B.B., who commands more than a bit of respect from my younger brothers and who was able to get them to own up. It turns out that my brother Ben had indeed felt like I hadn't shared enough with him, and in response he had cut a hole on the bottom of a pocket on the top flap of my suitcase, and had been snagging candy bars and chocolate covered espresso beans through it. B.B. also was able to get two of my other brothers, Solo and Oraku, to admit that they had known what Ben had been doing for quite some time, although they had not known how he was getting the bars. At first I was furious and wanted to give Ben especially a bit of a slapping session, but after a bit I managed to cool down and realized the best thing to do would be to turn them over to my host mom and let her deal with them. Unfortunately, before I could make them do this Ben ran off, and Solo and Oraku followed saying they were going to bring him back. This was of course but more lies from them, and none of the three of them reappeared until after my host mom had gone to bed.<br /> The theft ordeal was quite a difficult experience for me, but once it all had been figured out I made a conscious effort to put my anger aside so that I could think about the causes of the thievery. Before I had the self-control to do this, I was outraged that people I had considered my brothers and friends would steal from me, because as a member of a first world family this kind of behavior is unthinkable to me. But as I cooled down, I realized that the difference of course is that this not the first world, this is the third world and theft is unfortunately an incredibly common occurrence here, even with families and between friends. My family here is definitely solid Ghanaian middle class, not rich enough to be driving around Mercedes or BMW's like the rich of Ghana do, but comfortable enough to own a nice house and to send all the kids in the house to school. Despite this relative financial security, it is incredible to see just how little my siblings have in the way of material possessions. Before leaving the U.S., I had top pack all my belongings away for storage, and to do that it took numerous boxes and big black garbage bags. In contrast, I imagine that my siblings could pack all their worldly goods into a small suitcase. While I had to pack away multiple pairs of skis, bike gear, books, cds, and lots of clothes, all my siblings would have to pack would be a small pile of used clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, and there school bag and notebooks. So I suppose that because of this it is no surprise then that when my brothers see something that they'd like and can snag without the owner noticing, they do so. On top of that, this behavior is not discouraged because even when a thief is caught, there are no big consequences it seems. After I alerted my host mom to what my brothers had done, I expected that they would be in fairly deep trouble, but it never happened. It almost seemed as if she was a bit amused by the whole incident, I imagined she was thinking, "The little stinkers cut a whole in his bag just to get some chocolate?" Well, whatever she was thinking, she never thought to punish them in any way, and a day after I had found them out everyone but me was acting like nothing had ever happened. I will not deny that I am still a bit unsettled by this theft ordeal. I once and for all have realized that I cannot allow myself to trust people here, but unfortunately that puts me in a bit of an odd place as far as my family goes. As I said, they all seem to have forgotten the incident, but I am having trouble forgetting about it and for the rest of my stay I don't think I am going to be able to see my brothers in the same brotherly light. Whenever they tell me something, there is this little nagging voice in the back of my mind saying, "Is he telling the truth? You do remember what happened last time you believed him right...?", and that little voice makes things quite difficult. Recently during a phone conversation with my parents, I told them that I've learned that with people here, such as my brothers, I just have to look beyond the trust issue. Yeah, they can be liars and thieves, but it seems that that is almost part of being an adolescent boy here, and it doesn't necessarily make them bad people. I am trying to think in this way, and in many ways my life at home is still OK. I still laugh and joke with my bros, and I expect they feel forgiven. But in other ways, the way I feel about being in this family has been damaged irreparably. I have been brought up by parents who have instilled in me a sense of how important honesty and trust are, and I can never fully feel a part of a family that does not seem to value these traits. Time keeps passing quickly, and I know that I will survive my remaining four months just fine. But there is no denying that my whole being will be filled with relief when I am back with the family that I love and trust completely.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-10377150936024224712009-01-30T01:54:00.000-08:002009-01-30T01:56:06.810-08:00The Osei-Mensah FamilyHello Dear Friends and Family,<br /> Well to start with, since this is the first time I have written in 2009, let me wish you all a happy, happy new year! Life here in Sunyani keeps rolling by at a pace that continues to amaze me, and in just a few short days I will be at the five month mark of this journey of mine, almost halfway through already! Today, I am finally going to tell a bit about my crazy and huge family, the Osei-Mensah family.<br /> When talking about my family, one word will always come up. Big. Over the holiday season when all the family had come home, there were over twenty people here, four times the size of my family back home. So to start with, let me just list off the names of everyone in the family. The head of the family is without a doubt my host mom, who's name I believe is Vida, but who we all call Auntie. Although my communication with her is somewhat limited due to me not being able to speak much Twi, and her not being able to speak much English, she still has been a wonderful host mother so far. I mean first off, she has welcomed me into her already crowded house with open arms, which is incredibly generous, and on top of that she feeds me and makes sure I am happy, so I really cannot complain. Her husband, my host father, is named Charles, but everyone calls him Papa. When he is around, he is a man of very few words, so I really haven't gotten to know him at all, but despite that he has been kind to me in his quiet way. They have four children, B.B., who is 23, Nase, who is 21and is away at university much of the time, Mame who is 16, and is away at boarding school much of the time, and Solo, who is 13 and is one of the brother's I share a room with. All four of them are very kind and fun people, and I have enjoyed getting to know them all. All the other numerous people who live at the house are either relatives or just family friends who needed somewhere to live, and I'll quickly just list them all off as well. The guys are Kweku (twenties), Kofi (19ish), Oraku (15), Ben (15), Seth (16), Eminem (19ish), and the girls are Addie (6), Mamia (19), and Angel (2). These are just the regulars who are around most of the time, during the holidays the number balloons, and also occasionally people will just drift in and stay for a few days or a few weeks. Of all my siblings, the ones I have become closest to are Solo, Ben, Oraku and Seth, they definitely have there moments when they drive me crazy, but for the most part they are great, fun company. I also really enjoy spending time with Addie and Angel, they both are great little kids, and it is fun to have young siblings to play and joke with. <br /> Well as you can see by reading all those names, the family is indeed big, quite big, and really it is the size that in many ways has made my family so much fun, and has also made it a bit difficult at times. Let me first explain the good. My relationship with my family is really quite simple. I think that because there is a bit of a language barrier between me and them, and also just because we are so very different because of the places we have grown up, I have not gotten to know the members of my family on an individual basis as much as I might have in say a European country. Because of this, the joy I get from being with them isn't from having deep conversations or from sharing common interests, but from a more simple, ancient thing, the wonderful joy of human interaction. If I were to make a list of things that I enjoy about my home life here, it really would be a very, very short list, and that is not because I don't enjoy life at home, but instead it is because the life I am living is quite simple. The list would look something like this: 1- Spending time with siblings. 2- Eating (sometimes) 3-sleeping (if my brothers don't wake me up constantly). 4- Watching football matches on tv. 5-Sitting outside and reading. And that would be about it. Because there are so few things to in the way of recreation or entertainment, I feel incredibly blessed that I have ended up with such a fun and lively family. The best times I have here are times spent sitting with my brothers and sisters, laughing, joking, horsing around, just being simple people enjoying the profound joy of being together. <br /> Just as the lively environment I love about my family is partly due to its size, the aspects to my family that I don't like as much are also largely due to its size. The first thing that I find difficult is sleep, or more accurately the conditions in which I have to sleep. I love sleep, I absolutely love it, and especially here, after a long day spent sweating under the hot sun, the feeling of laying down and falling asleep is wonderful. Unfortunately however, I share a room with at least four other brothers all the time, and they often make it very difficult for me fall asleep or to stay asleep. Back at home in the U.S., sleep is such a respected thing in my family, and we never wake each other up unless it is urgent, and if we have to go into a room where someone is sleeping we tiptoe and make sure not to disturb that person. Here, sleep doesn't really seem to be an activity that people enjoy all that much, and because of that they, or at least my brothers, have absolutely no respect for people who do enjoy sleeping. As many times as I ask my brothers not to turn the light on, they still have to turn it on whenever they come into the room. Sometimes they'll barge in and bang the door open, and I'll have to get up to close it when they leave, only to have them barge in and out again without closing it. They also have these incredibly annoying cell phones that double as music players, and instead of using headphones they blast their music through the phone's surprisingly powerful speakers. I have been woken up at one in the morning before by these satanic devices, and again I have asked my brothers many times not to play music on them while I am sleeping, but apparently the forget very fast. Basically, they just don't seem to realize, even after I have told them many times, that I like sleeping and would like to do so in peace, and they continue night after night to disturb me despite my pleas. I really only have on other big complaint against my family, well really mostly against my brothers, and that has to do with the area of manners and general politeness. As much as I like my host mom, I really don't feel that she does all that much parenting, and because of this I think my siblings have grown up not knowing really what manners are. For instance, recently I have received several boxes from home, and I have been able to share things with my siblings like chocolate and Kraft Mac N Cheese. Unfortunately though, sharing with them has not been very gratifying because instead of saying, "Gee Wes, thanks so much for this Reese's, I've never had one before its really good!", I instead get, "This is sweet, give me more," and that is not an exaggeration. There are many other small things like this that come up often, sometimes I'll be watching TV and one of them will come and just change the channel without asking me, sometimes while I'm away at school Addie will take my toothpaste and use it and then not put the cap back on so that it spills all over my toiletry bag, basically just lots of small things that result from them never having been taught simple things like saying "please" and "thank you". Other than these annoyances, I am for the most party a very happy guy when I am at home, and I really do feel that I have been incredibly lucky in ending up with such a good family.<br /> Well there ends my first post for this year 2009, I hope it has been successful in telling you all at least a bit about my family.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-27686795294541414982009-01-02T01:05:00.001-08:002009-01-02T01:21:02.532-08:00Photo Update<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3b_2Xi8vI/AAAAAAAAAFs/YqJEax9KxsQ/s1600-h/IMG_1214.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3b_2Xi8vI/AAAAAAAAAFs/YqJEax9KxsQ/s200/IMG_1214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286623427575345906" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Many of my host brothers enjoying a bowl of fufu.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3b_vhMm7I/AAAAAAAAAFk/68cDYekKuLE/s1600-h/IMG_1213.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3b_vhMm7I/AAAAAAAAAFk/68cDYekKuLE/s200/IMG_1213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286623425736776626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A scaly little night time visitor that one of my Brothers nearly stepped on.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3b_g6ecCI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-VNoVhXXcBU/s1600-h/IMG_1212.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3b_g6ecCI/AAAAAAAAAFc/-VNoVhXXcBU/s200/IMG_1212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286623421816270882" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />My host mother, who we all call "Auntie," with a ball of banku in hand<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3asvF3PTI/AAAAAAAAAFU/q571WcMOlJA/s1600-h/IMG_1144.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3asvF3PTI/AAAAAAAAAFU/q571WcMOlJA/s200/IMG_1144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286621999692987698" border="0" /></a><br />They were very afraid of people.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3asGmDzAI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Pm0XWDr-QgI/s1600-h/IMG_1143.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3asGmDzAI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Pm0XWDr-QgI/s200/IMG_1143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286621988822174722" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Little baby monkey posing for the camera.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3aSxDIiZI/AAAAAAAAAFE/hfJdI-mbbGw/s1600-h/IMG_1136.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3aSxDIiZI/AAAAAAAAAFE/hfJdI-mbbGw/s200/IMG_1136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286621553541810578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />What a face!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3aSlJdpJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/QSIAuozqPYE/s1600-h/IMG_1135.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3aSlJdpJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/QSIAuozqPYE/s200/IMG_1135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286621550347134098" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Monkeys like Bananas, surprise surprise.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3ZkcNMKWI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Mim7midLa20/s1600-h/IMG_1097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3ZkcNMKWI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Mim7midLa20/s200/IMG_1097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286620757672864098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />These guys were slightly less friendly and stayed up in the trees.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3ZjzBUwxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IR4nJTVoNT4/s1600-h/IMG_1130.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SV3ZjzBUwxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IR4nJTVoNT4/s200/IMG_1130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286620746617242386" border="0" /></a><br />Our Group, Rich, Me, our guide Henry, and Benjamin, A friend of our fellow AFSer Mari, who is taking the pictureWeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-13886657355149109192008-12-27T02:39:00.000-08:002008-12-27T02:41:40.184-08:00Merry Christmas From Ghana!Hello My Dear Friends, <br /> Well to start with I would just like to wish you all a merry, merry Christmas, and a prosperous new year. May you all enjoy wonderful times with family and friends, as well as lots and lots of wonderful Christmas food and drink. As I sit here in shorts and t-shirt, and as I look outside and see the hot, hazy Ghanaian air, it is hard for me to believe that today is Christmas eve, and that tomorrow is Christmas. Even though we very rarely have a white Christmas in Bellingham, I still asscociate the holiday season with cool, wet, Pacific Northwest weather, so it is taking a bit of work to convince myself that it really is December 24th, despite my sweaty brow and the palm trees outside. The fact that it is already Christmas also just brings home to me how fast the time has flown by here, I remember when I arrived here Christmas seemed ages away, but now I realize just how fast the past 3 1/2 months have zipped by.<br /> Here in Ghana, Christmas is already here, as they celebrate the holiday for pretty much a whole week surrounding the 25th, the dates differ depending on who you ask. Exactly what they define as celebrating Chirstmas however, is a bit of a mystery to me, because so far here in Sunyani there are virtually no indicators that it is Christmas. From the adds I have seen on TV for Christmas sales in Accra in Kumasi I get the impression that the holiday is at least commercially a bigger deal in those places, but the stores that put those commercials out are not present in Sunyani, and walking the streets here I have seen no Christmas items or sales. I think in Ghana people still take the holiday very literally, a time to celebrate the birth of Christ, so a large part of the celebration is just going to church even more often than usual. So far at my house life goes on mostly as it has for the past months, the only difference being that a few family members who were at boarding school have come home. I have asked my brothers what we do here to celebrate, and it sounds as if the extent of celebration is a nice meal here sometime in the next few days. I think that although people here are not confronted with a financial crisis like many people in the U.S. are right now, they are confronted with the reality of living in a developing country. In a family like mine, feeding twenty people each day is enough of an expense, and I'm sure there isn't money left for gifts and other Christmas activities. I think that in many ways though they have it just right, the whole family is here to celebrate and to enjoy eachothers company and some good food, and really isn't that the most important part of the holiday? <br /> I have now been off from school for a week and will be until January 13th, and really this year that is the best Christmas gift I could have received, almost a month off to relax and travel. A week ago today my fellow AFSer Rich and I took our first trip for the break, a day excursion to a nearby monkey sanctuary. It was a wonderful trip, definitely the most excitement I've had so far in my stay here. Not only did we get to see a ton of lively monkeys, but we also got to enjoy a beautiful 250 year old forest, as well as a couple helter skelter taxi rides. We have two other trips planned for the break, the first being a couple days in Kumasi at the beginning of January, hopefully with a few other AFSers from around the country, and then at the end of January AFS is sponsoring a trip to the Volta region, both should be great fun. Here in Sunyani I have fallen into a very regular routine, a routine that when I first got here I would have deemed incredibly boring, but at this point in my stay I am very content with it. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Rich and I go to town at 8am and buy a wonderful breakfast of an egg sandwich and a mug of wannabe coffee, and then after that we come here to the Internet cafe for an hour. The rest of my week is spent chilling at home, and as boring and lame as that may sound, I have come to enjoy my time with my family immensely. A lot of my time is spent with my brothers bagging sachets of purified water and sugary drinks that my family manufactures, in fact last night I was up til three in the morning with them working, yikes! I also have taken a couple fishing trips with my younger brothers to a nearby muddy little creek, where with sticks and string we caught an amazing amount of palm sized little fish, which despite there size, we of course ate. Other than that, my days really are incredibly lazy, I spend a lot of time sitting out in our yard under a big coconut tree, often with a little grey and white cat in my lap who has become a fast friend. Just sitting does sound boring when you say it, but I have learned to enjoy my time under the tree, sometimes a nice breeze is blowing and I can close my eyes and enjoy its cool touch, or if there is no breeze to enjoy then I can just enjoy time with my little feline friend and I can spend time time contemplating this crazy world around me. Usually around twelve or one I take a nap, then around five I head out for my daily five-ish mile run, and really that is the extent of my daily activities. Boring as my routine may sound, I really am learning to enjoy it. I think perhaps that is another Christmas gift I have received this year, the gift of learning to enjoy small things immensely, I wont deny that I am longing for a good day on the ski slopes right now, but it is valuable to learn that I don't necessarily need that kind of excitement to be happy.<br /> Alright, well as it is Christmas eve, I am sure you all have much better things to do than read my ramblings, so I will cut this email off here. Again, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and New Year, I am thinking of you all and wish I could be there with you to celebrate and make merry. <br />Best Wishes,<br />WesWeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-28505369266867684482008-11-29T03:26:00.000-08:002008-11-29T03:50:52.551-08:00Ghana Q & A Part 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEsGDMgxEI/AAAAAAAAAEk/1rmgUW1EAro/s1600-h/IMG_0931.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEsGDMgxEI/AAAAAAAAAEk/1rmgUW1EAro/s200/IMG_0931.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274045121076184130" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />A lovely bowl of plantains and a leafy sauce of some sort that has been cooked for several days...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STErjwSWbiI/AAAAAAAAAEc/oEuMKrV93gY/s1600-h/IMG_0986.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STErjwSWbiI/AAAAAAAAAEc/oEuMKrV93gY/s200/IMG_0986.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274044531884846626" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Bagging a sweet "juice" aka sugar water w/ artificial flavoring drink that my family makes and sells.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEpTdzkmfI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Zlp9q9nY80c/s1600-h/IMG_0988.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEpTdzkmfI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Zlp9q9nY80c/s200/IMG_0988.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274042053022751218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />From left to right: Innocent, Iris, and Jessica.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEqqs9kZKI/AAAAAAAAAEU/45YXuIQ6xKQ/s1600-h/IMG_0987.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEqqs9kZKI/AAAAAAAAAEU/45YXuIQ6xKQ/s200/IMG_0987.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274043551739831458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Apple tree in Washington, Coconut tree in Sunyani!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEoSGY2uzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/fdNNaj0x6oo/s1600-h/IMG_0989.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/STEoSGY2uzI/AAAAAAAAAEE/fdNNaj0x6oo/s200/IMG_0989.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274040930045180722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Looking out at the rusty metal roofs of a residential part of Sunyani. Note the small mosque in the center.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Hello again everyone,<br />To start with, I hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving! I was drooling all day just thinking about turkey and mashed potatoes and apple pie... It will taste so amazing next year I am sure. Well, since I last wrote, things have been going well for me here in Sunyani. School is still definitely the most trying aspect to my life here, but I am really enjoying life with my family, which makes up for the hours of agony in school. I know I have written very little to date about my family, but it is my plan to write the whole next newsletter on my family life, hopefully in two or three weeks. As far as today, as I said last time this will Ghana Q & A edition! Thanks so much to all of you who sent me questions, unfortunately I can only work in a few today, but somewhere down the line I am planning to do Ghana Q & A part two.<br /><b><br />What kind of smells do you encounter day to day in Ghana?</b><br />After being here for nearly three months, the smells here now seem very commonplace to me. When I first arrived however, that was not so, smell was HUGE, because well, Ghana is a pretty smelly place. There are several prevalent smells that infest my nose on a daily basis. Walking through town is probably the most aroma rich part of my day, as there are tons of food vendors selling food like meat kabobs, fried rice, fried plantains, and many others. Unfortunately, those nice food smells are also mixed with a healthy helping of exhaust, as well as the wonderful smell of garbage filled open sewers. Lining all the roads, there are these big cement gutters, and it seems they were poorly designed because they are always full of stagnant water mixed with garbage, rotting food and vegetables, and probably a fair dose of urine. Another very prevalent smell is smoke. Ghanaians love fire, and use it for cooking and burning pretty much anything. The cooking fires aren't so bad, as they are usually just burning charcoal, and plus the smell of cooking food is always pleasant. The smoke that I find slightly less pleasant though, is the smoke created by the burning of plastic, and of piles of green grass and leaves. The other day I came home and my host mom was throwing some old phones and tires into a fire outside our house, yuck can you say carcinogens?! As prevalent as the smells I've mentioned are, the thing that probably fills my nose the most is lovely, red african dust, but I guess maybe that doesn't quite qualify as a smell..<br /><br /><b>I'd love to know about other AFS kids there, from what countries, how often do you get together, and how do you feel the local support is, like is anyone unhappy with a placement, etc</b>.<br />There are three other AFS students in Sunyani, two who are participating in the high school year program like me, and one who is taking part in the shorter community service program. The girl who is doing community service is named Barbel and is from Italy, and because she is not attending school I do not see her very often. The other two are Rich from Tenesee, and Iris from Belgium, and they are both wonderful people. Rich lives about a five minutes walk from my house, so I spend a lot of time with him, and I definitely am thankful for his company. Iris lives in a different part of town, but we still see her every school day since we are all in the same class at Twene Amanfo. As far as support, it is somewhat minimal. Our contact person here is actually Rich's 29 year old host brother, and although he is a very kind, nice guy, he hasn't organized too many activities or anything of the sort yet. I know though, that if we were in trouble or needed help he would be there for us in a second. As far as support from the national office, Rich and I have heard from them twice, and Iris hasn't heard from them at all. This doesn't really bother me as I haven't really needed any help, but what does bother me is that for the whole ten months they only have one group activity planned for us. Ghana does have poor roads and such, but still, I think they could do a bit better than that. All of us were lucky enough to be placed with great families, so there have been no problems there.<br /><b><br />Internal Family relationships -- how the children relate to their parents and vice-versa.</b><br />I'll cover this more in my post on my family, but I'll go over it briefly here. Wow, family relationships are crazy here compared to what I know at home, or at least they are with my host family. The biggest thing I would say, is that there is really no visable affection showed between my host parents and siblings. It seems that they interact more as maybe a boss and an employee do, a boss who doesn't feel much affection for his employees. Beyond telling her kids to do chores or reprimanding them, my Mom really does not talk to my host sisters and bros, and certainly doesn't ever hug or kiss them. My host dad lives in Accra during the week, and when he is home on the weekends he barely talks to anyone. In the few words he has said to me he has of course been polite, but today for instance, all I got was "good morning." This has been a bit tough for me, because I come from such a wonderful, loving family, and it has taken me a while to get used to the fact that I am never going to really feel like this is my family.<br /><br /><b>How has Obama's win been viewed there?<br /></b>Obama's win has been huge in Ghana, and throughout the whole of Africa as well. As they rightly should, people here are very proud that "one of them," as they view it, has been elected as president of the most powerful country in the world. Before the election, tons of people asked Rich and I if we supported Obama, and now even after he has won people continue to ask us if we support him and if we are happy he won. It is a little amusing at times though, because as much enthusiasm as they have for him, very few people know anything about him. Like before the election, most people I talked to did not know who he was running against, and I even got some funny and kind of confusing questions like: "Is Barack Obama from the U.S.?" Or one particularly funny one, "Is Barack Obama a man or a woman?" That said, there are also many well informed people who when I spoke to them knew a surprising amount about him and the state of U.S. politics. One teacher right after the election came to our class and spoke with us, saying that "George Bush is a bush man!," and that it will do the U.S. a ton of good to have change and a new administration in control. I have to say, I agree completely, and common, who can't laugh at "George Bush is a Bush man!"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><b><br /></b>Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-539638926717171302008-11-07T05:19:00.000-08:002008-11-07T05:53:28.309-08:00More Pictures!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRIFSavhhI/AAAAAAAAAD8/GMa2SB2oB_0/s1600-h/IMG_0776.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRIFSavhhI/AAAAAAAAAD8/GMa2SB2oB_0/s200/IMG_0776.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265913119983502866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Sunyani Municipal Hospital. Its closed on sundays..<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRHu2yXEzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/J_BWNalikpI/s1600-h/IMG_0775.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRHu2yXEzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/J_BWNalikpI/s200/IMG_0775.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265912734609249074" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The neighborhood football pitch.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRHIXbiurI/AAAAAAAAADs/lcj8_EO3unM/s1600-h/IMG_0774.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRHIXbiurI/AAAAAAAAADs/lcj8_EO3unM/s200/IMG_0774.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265912073357015730" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />My host sister Mamia pounding the traditional dish "fufu" w/ one of my host bros. Fufu is served in a spicy sauce and you swallow it immediately w/out chewing. Not one of my faves..<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRREc8kzewI/AAAAAAAAADk/52RGz37WFys/s1600-h/IMG_0773.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRREc8kzewI/AAAAAAAAADk/52RGz37WFys/s200/IMG_0773.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265909128390474498" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A village outside of Sunyani.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRDwSIx4AI/AAAAAAAAADc/ovvbwwxLb9I/s1600-h/IMG_0772.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRDwSIx4AI/AAAAAAAAADc/ovvbwwxLb9I/s200/IMG_0772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265908361084395522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />The neighborhood garbage bin<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRCvOLAsII/AAAAAAAAADU/w2l4GKcQnco/s1600-h/IMG_0771.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRCvOLAsII/AAAAAAAAADU/w2l4GKcQnco/s200/IMG_0771.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265907243328516226" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />My host bro's Oraku and Kweku cutting up some freshly killed chicken.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRBaJNAweI/AAAAAAAAADE/jSdprT6n3CY/s1600-h/IMG_0769.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRBaJNAweI/AAAAAAAAADE/jSdprT6n3CY/s200/IMG_0769.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265905781705851362" border="0" /></a></div> One of the roads I run on near my home. It is very nice and scenic until a truck or bus goes by at 100 mph and makes me swallow lungfulls of dust.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRAssA64MI/AAAAAAAAAC8/u3iPqeKtNvc/s1600-h/IMG_0768.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRAssA64MI/AAAAAAAAAC8/u3iPqeKtNvc/s200/IMG_0768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265905000776392898" border="0" /></a><br />On the left is my host brother BB and fellow AFSer Iris from Belgium. On the right is Iris' host sister Alice, and my fellow American AFSer Rich, from Tennessee.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRCVUaWxhI/AAAAAAAAADM/j0lSRUAz9W0/s1600-h/IMG_0770.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRRCVUaWxhI/AAAAAAAAADM/j0lSRUAz9W0/s200/IMG_0770.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265906798326892050" border="0" /></a><br />My host brother Solo, and my adorable 2 year old host sister Angel.Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-4071987174831854492008-10-31T03:26:00.000-07:002008-11-04T01:32:26.287-08:00Being a White Guy in Ghana<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAWd7YLYdI/AAAAAAAAAC0/3DPOjLYZNcg/s1600-h/IMG_0748.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264732667807228370" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAWd7YLYdI/AAAAAAAAAC0/3DPOjLYZNcg/s200/IMG_0748.JPG" border="0" /></a> One of the billions of lizards that inhabit ghana.<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAVrNBtrXI/AAAAAAAAACs/JhDH0M_O14w/s1600-h/IMG_0746.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264731796371516786" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAVrNBtrXI/AAAAAAAAACs/JhDH0M_O14w/s200/IMG_0746.JPG" border="0" /></a> Four of my host siblings, closest is Addie, the dude is Paw Kwasi, the little girl is Angel, and the girl in black is Mamia<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAVSGYOPHI/AAAAAAAAACk/duG103A7rCs/s1600-h/IMG_0747.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264731365090147442" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAVSGYOPHI/AAAAAAAAACk/duG103A7rCs/s200/IMG_0747.JPG" border="0" /></a> Our tuesday and thursday treat... egg sandwitches and "milo," a wonderful malt coco drink. the guy who helps us is awesome and has made that enormous milo can tower<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAT5VCx2kI/AAAAAAAAACU/x6AC79xi-QY/s1600-h/IMG_0745.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264729840018381378" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SRAT5VCx2kI/AAAAAAAAACU/x6AC79xi-QY/s200/IMG_0745.JPG" border="0" /></a> Bakoniaba road, the driveway to my host home is at the top of this hill<br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Well the days continue to slip on by here in Sunyani. I have now almost been away from home two months, which seems already like an incredibly long period of time, especially considering that before this I'd never been away for more than a couple weeks. Life is going pretty well for me here, I have become semi used to the flow of Ghanaian life and I am adapting fairly well I'd say. That said, I knew that this year would be a challenge before I left, and having now been here as long as I have, I can see that it indeed will be. In my last post, I explained how school is a very trying aspect of my life here, and today I am going to explain an equally trying aspect, and that is the experience of being a white guy in Ghana.<br />Walking around as a white person in Ghana is roughly the equivalent of walking around in the U.S. wearing a tutu and a gorilla mask. It makes you an instant novelty. The difference however, is that while most people would avoid a person wearing a gorilla mask and a tutu, Ghanaians certainly do not avoid white people, or in twi, "obrunis." Other than my two safe havens of my host home and my classroom at school, I am verbally confronted everywhere I go, and by anyone and just about everyone. The majority of the banter thrown my way sounds harmless when explained on paper. Most often, the conversations are simple and short, polite questions, such as: "Obruni how are you?" "Obruni where are you going?" Obruni, what is your name?" So obviously, the reason I feel semi assaulted is not because of the content of what people are saying to me. The problem instead, is with the frequency that I am confronted and the frequency with which I must answer to there, "Obruni..." questions. It really is almost incessant, especially when in town I am greeted by a large portion of the people I pass. Considering that most the people are well meaning, I know it sounds rude on my part to say that I am starting to find all these conversations annoying, so instead I will just say that I am starting to find them tiring.<br />The other problem with these constant interactions aside from their frequency, is the way in which Ghanaians choose to attract my attention so that they can start a conversation. Often "obruni," or "obruni bra,"(white man come) are used to attract my attention, and as I've already mentioned obruni is not on my list of favorite words. The most common way people grab others attention, however, is by hissing. So, I'll be walking through sunyani and I'll feel as if I am surrounded by hordes of hungry snakes. As much as I would like to just tune the the hissing out and ignore it, I cannot because here in Ghana that would be quite rude. It is funny, because at home it would be rude to call over a complete stranger and demand a conversation, but here I am required by courtesy to at least say a few words. Most often the conversations are short and the people well meaning, as I mentioned before people most often just want to know where I am from, how long I am here, etc. There are however, slightly more annoying people, and those are the ones who like to use obrunis to get a good laugh. This often comes in the form of marriage proposals, requests for me to assist with hard labor, and the most common and most annoying, people who speak to me rapidly in twi and then break into hysterical laughter. I have learned that the best way to deal with these comic obibinis, (black men) is to just smile, nod, and continue on my way.<br />There is one more kind of interaction I have on a daily basis as a result of being white, and that is requests for money. Obrunis are not only seen as a source of amusement, but also as a source of money. The most difficult part about these requests, is that they most often come from children. I have seen next to zero beggars in Sunyani, but there are an abundance of school children who would love to have a little more spare cash in their pockets. Oftentimes, I'll just be walking to or from school, and kids of varying ages will come and grab my arms or hands, and then ask for money. As hard as it can be, I have to deny them all. I am going to be here for eight more months, and I definitely cannot afford to gain the reputation of being the obruni who is always leaking money. I do not have that hard of a time turning down the older kids, because they are often completely tactless. Apparently white people are so rich that you don't even need to be polite towards them, often they just say, "Obruni give me money!," and I have little difficulty turning them down. I cannot help but feel a bit guilty however, when I turn down the small, big eyed children who grab my hands so fervently.<br />Well friends, that brings me to the close of newsletter #4, I hope it has been enjoyable. I had intended to send this off more than a week ago, but I have to admit that I have been having quite a few problems with writers block, and hence it took me a bit longer to complete. The writers block was positive in one way however, and that way was that it gave me an idea. I realized that with each passing day life here is becoming more and more the norm for me, and there may be many things that you my readers might find interesting, but that I no longer see as so. My idea then, is to do a Q & A edition, or an edition that is at least part Q & A. So, please, if any of you have any questions for me that I have not covered yet, please send them to me so that i can incorporate them into my next newsletter. Also, if you have any suggestions as to how I can make these newsletters better please let me know!<br /><span style="color:#888888;"><br /></span></div></div></div></div>Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-1953418968337775272008-10-06T08:16:00.000-07:002008-10-10T08:36:11.277-07:00Twene Amanfo Secondary School<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO92NRND8AI/AAAAAAAAAB0/U6RL7_7c5zc/s1600-h/IMG_0515.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO92NRND8AI/AAAAAAAAAB0/U6RL7_7c5zc/s200/IMG_0515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255549260493221890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO911eNlUPI/AAAAAAAAABs/c0Tr2Hsg75c/s1600-h/IMG_0516.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO911eNlUPI/AAAAAAAAABs/c0Tr2Hsg75c/s200/IMG_0516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255548851668209906" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SOoslguhpaI/AAAAAAAAABk/GP3fXq_ABg8/s1600-h/IMG_0339.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254060938232964514" style="" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SOoslguhpaI/AAAAAAAAABk/GP3fXq_ABg8/s200/IMG_0339.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div> There has been one big addition to my life since I last wrote, and that addition has been school. Twene Amanfo Senior Secondary School. The school year here is comprised of three terms, and this first term has been going for three weeks and will last until the middle of december. So, much as I would back at home in Bellingham, I now go to school monday through friday, from eight in the morning til three in the afternoon. Beyond that however, Twene Amanfo is drastically different than school at good 'ol Mount Baker, and so I am going to dedicate this post to describing me experience up til now at my new school.</div><div> Twene Amanfo is comprised of roughtly fifteen one story buildings that each hold three or four classrooms, as well as one three story building that contains about fifteen classrooms. The campus also includes a nice football pitch at its center, as well as an open air cafeteria and a small library. Practially everything on the campus is the school colors of green and yellow, from the buildings to the buses to the student's uniforms. Walking around the campus it has a nice open air feel to it, and it is also well complimented by trees bordering the walkways and the perimiter wall. The asthetic appeal of the place however, ends abruptly as soon as you step into a classroom.</div><div> The classrooms here are not dedicated to a subject, but instead are dedicated to a course and to all the students in a grade taking that course. So for instance, the course I chose is visual arts, and myself along with all the other second year students who chose visual arts sit in the same classroom all day, while the teachers who teach the classes that make up our course come to us throughtout the day. When I first heard how things worked here, I thought, OK, being in the same room all day will be sort of like elementary school, and elementary school was pretty fun. WRONG. These classrooms unfortunately, more closely resemble a prison cell than they do the cheery classrooms of my childhood. Gone are the colorful posters and art on the walls, the racks of books and the boxes and drawers of supplies. The classroom that houses Visual Arts Form Two is bare bones simple, as are all the classrooms here. A chalkboard stretches accross the front wall of the room, so smudged with chalk residue that it takes an effort to decipher the new additions teachers make. Filling the rest of the room are the wooden desks the whole school uses, desks that look much like the ones you'd expect to see in one room classrooms during the American Homestead period. They really are almost torture devices, the narrow wooden seat causes my butt to ache after only a few minutes of sitting, and the vertical wooden black allows for no slouching that might relieve my discomfort. The desks at home seem like Lay-Z-Boys in comparision. Apart from the desks and the chalkboard, the only other items in the room are two pieces of paper taped to the wall. One is a typed up paper encouraging students to study the bible, and the other is a handwritten schedule of classes from two years ago. Enclosing these few items are hostile cement walls, originally painted a dingy green, but now flaking badly and fowled by chalk graffititi and smudges of who knows what. I know my description must sound critical, but my intent is only to compare the classroom here to the classrooms I know back home. The classrooms at Twene Amanfo were built as they were, I imagine, due to limited funds, and for the way teaching and learning has evolved here they serve their purpose well. And plus, I'm sure having my tailbone put into agony by my desk each day really is an invaluable characer building experience, and ten years from now I will look back on it and smile.</div><div> The uninspiring classroom however, has not been the biggest adjustment for me in this new system. By far, the biggest difference I've had to deal with is the way teaching and learning are conducted here. At home, teachers talk about the different ways each of us learn, how some of us are visual learners, some are hands on learners, how some are oral learners, etc. Unfortunately, the teachers here didn't catch that memo, because almost everything here is based around taking notes, memorizing those notes, and then spitting them back out for tests. The only exceptions to that would be my three art classes, ceramics, graphic design, and GKA, (general knowledge in arts) where we occasionally will break from note taking to do a project. As a student who is used to doing a limited amount of notetaking, and lots of projects and assignments, this different style of education is unfortunately proving to be a bit on the side of boring. Luckily, I am partly saved by the prospect of getting to do some fun art projects, although there havn't been any so far, as well by a classroom of very friendly peers who are constantly making me laugh.</div><div>The teacher student relationship here is another big difference from home, and a bit of an unpleasant one too. Here in Ghana students are expected to not only be respectful and obedient to their teachers, but we are also expected to be totally submissive. While I am conforming to this as I must, I won't lie and say it is easy for me act as if the teachers are some sort of superior being. Saying, "Sir" and "Madam" and standing when we speak really isn't a problem, but it is a bit discomforting how the majority of the teachers take very little interest in us despite our good manners. I am sure that the teachers here care for their students just as much as teachers back home do, its just that they do not seem to feel the need to show it. This is difficult for me because back home I have friendly relationships with many of my teachers, and because of that has been a bit difficult being in an environment where my teachers are 100% business. They are also 100% percent into discipline and punishment, and witnessing the punishment has been amusing more than anything else. Their two favorites are caning students and making them pull weeds for hours on end, and there are many different ways you can have have them brought upon you. Being late, wearing white socks instead of black, having your hair to long, sleeping in class, talking out of place, answering a question wrong, being out of class when you aren't supposed to be, and that is just to name a few. They are also very fond of punishing people in front of the whole school. On the first day of school, they brought a girl whose hair was too long out in front of the whole school and beat her, and there have been several other similar instances since then. Its not as if they ever do any damage, but I'm sure that cane can leave some beautiful welts, although I am in no hurry to find out.</div><div> I hope this latest entry has been informative, and I apologize if it comes accross a bit on the negative side. I really do think they are trying hard to improve their education system and are making progress, unfortunately however this is a third world country so funds are a bit limited. Anyways though, to end I thought I'd just add a couple fun little tidbits that aren't negative and that should be a bit amusing.</div><div>-The chalk smudged chalkboard I mentioned is no longer chalk smudged. A couple of days ago it was re-blackened, with battery acid. All the students were asked to bring in one big battery, and then the batteries were broken open and the acid was poured into a bowl. A fellow student then used a rag to administer the acid to the board, when he was finished his bare hands were black up to the wrist with the acid. The board looks great though.</div><div>-Lunch at MBHS costs $2.50. Lunch here costs me 50 Ghana Pesewas a day, which is slightly less than 50 US cents. </div><div>-The bathrooms at the school are a bit primative. They are simply cement holes cut into the floor, accompanied by baskets of recycled notebook paper to wipe with. I make sure to do my business at home.</div><div>-We have been learning about how to use the internet in one of our classes. When the teacher asked how many students had used the internet, only two Ghanaian students raised their hands. I think at home 100% of the class would have. Also our school only has 4 computers and no internet access, so all the teacher could do was write stuff up on the board. It was a bit amusing to see www. and yahoo and google written up on this smudged up old chalkboard.</div><div> </div><div>That is it for now, until next time I hope all is well back at home and I hope you all are doing well.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-74612675550155848312008-09-20T04:08:00.000-07:002008-10-10T09:12:30.662-07:00First Impressions of Sunyani<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO9-0aK4lnI/AAAAAAAAACM/dvIWXYw4Zm8/s1600-h/IMG_0340.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO9-0aK4lnI/AAAAAAAAACM/dvIWXYw4Zm8/s200/IMG_0340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255558729007928946" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO97tTNZq0I/AAAAAAAAACE/_-SbGxSYm2I/s1600-h/IMG_0341.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO97tTNZq0I/AAAAAAAAACE/_-SbGxSYm2I/s200/IMG_0341.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255555308345469762" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO94sn6561I/AAAAAAAAAB8/b1vuD77apYE/s1600-h/IMG_0338.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SO94sn6561I/AAAAAAAAAB8/b1vuD77apYE/s200/IMG_0338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255551998190283602" border="0" /></a><br />Hello freinds, here is the latest update from Ghana:<br /> I have been in Sunyani a week and a bit, but its just now starting to feel like home. The first three days I felt as if somebody had taken my life and shaken out everything I knew, replacing it all with new sounds, smells, foods, new everything. It at times felt like nails grating across a chalkboard in my head, and it was terrifying. In Accra, I do not think I felt much culture shock because I was with a group of ten other white kids, and we traveled around in our little bus like tourists. But on my first day here it hit me like a fifty pound weight to the chest and left me gasping for air. This is culture shock like being one of three white people I've seen in Sunyani, the other two being fellow AFSers. Shock like realizing that although English is the official language, twi is the spoken and known language. Shock like going from living on tons of wonderful vegetables, to having eaten nothing but yams and other starchy plants since my arrival. Sickening shock like going from being an environmentally minded person to becoming a litter here because there is no apparent trash disposal system. (Everyday one of my little siblings gathers all the trash in our compound and dumps it in a field across the driveway) The list goes on and on, but the last major shock I will mention is religion. I am not a religious person, but I had known Ghanaians would be quite religious and I thought I was prepared for that. Not quite. Religion is everywhere here, part of most shop's names, (The lord's own Internet cafe) on the back of taxis, in the schools, everywhere. The hardest part about it is that people always want to know my religious orientation, and upon hearing that I am not sure about the existence of god and that I believe in evolution they often laugh or look at me like an alien. Science is simply not a part of peoples lives, global warming is out of their radar, church is the highlight of their week, and the thought that we were once "monkeys" is impossible. I am learning quick to laugh at myself along with them.<br /> My life at home is in all honesty, a bit of a zoo. I live in a compound made up of five squat one story buildings, which sounds like a spacious setup until you see the twenty-some people that live there. The room I sleep in is attached to the main house, but is only accessable from a single door outside the house. In my estimation, it is about 8 feet wide by 15 feet long, and I share the one twin bed in it with one of my host brothers BB. The room is sunk about a foot into the ground and has horrrible ventilation, so I go to sleep every night sweaty and uncomfortable. (I'm getting used to it though, the feeling of being sweaty and sicky isn't as bad as it once was) The only quiet time is between 11 at night to 6 in the morning, and for the rest of they day it is alive with activity. There is constantly loud music blaring from scratchy radios, and then there is the buzz of many people doing many tasks. Every day my little sibblings sweep the whole compound with homemade brooms, and every day my older host sisters sit out in the sun and wash clothes in big metal basins. Then there is the constant ca-chunk sound that is made by a big machine that filters water before putting into 500 ml plastic bags. The machine, along with my host brothers produces hundreds of the bags a day, which are then sold throughout Sunyani or drunk by us.<br /> Sunyani. Sunyani is about the size of downtown Bellingham, and I think of it as the Ghanaian Bellingham because it has everything you need in a city without being big and crazy. It is about a 3 minute taxi ride from my home, and once in town I can walk everywhere I need to go. There is a big market in the center of the city that sells just about everything you'd find in an American supermarket, and just a few blocks from that is the school I will be attending. It is a constant buffett of smells ranging from pineapple to fried rice to giant roasted rats to sewage. It, like the rest of Ghana, is made quite dirty by an abundance of garbage, but that is no longer shocking like it first was. There is a constant flow of people and vehicles flowing through the city, but it has a lively feel to it rather than the frantic rushed feeling that inhabited Accra. I feel right at home in the city, and I don't think I could have been luckier in my placement.<br /> I am now far past my first few days of intense homesickness, and now the place that I sleep and eat at is beginning to feel like my home. With this sense of home I am finding many things I like about the Ghanaian culture. I like the pace, the lack of rush and the absence of time. I like the twinkle of humor in so many Ghanaians eyes, the ease with which they laugh. I like how business is done, how everything is sold by local merchants and how most of the food is grown locally. I like the peace I feel as I sit around the cooking fire with my family, watching the sun silhouette the huge African trees in gold and listening to the contented buzz of crickets. I am finding there is so much to like here, and I know that this will only become more so as time passes.<br />Well that is all for today, I'm sorry this issue dragged on a bit more than the others but I had so much to tell! I am just starting up with school so in the next issue I will tell all about that and much more. I hope as you read this life is treating you well, and to all you Whatcom County people tell our beautiful home that I miss her!<br /> <div dir="ltr"><wbr> <wbr> Take Care,<br /> <wbr> <wbr> Wes</div>Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-68032238259435846052008-09-07T07:13:00.000-07:002008-09-26T07:56:18.895-07:00First Impressions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SNz2re7cLsI/AAAAAAAAABc/ipThUx0Q_N4/s1600-h/IMG_0337.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_i9KiHHFavdw/SNz2re7cLsI/AAAAAAAAABc/ipThUx0Q_N4/s200/IMG_0337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250342492504338114" border="0" /></a><br />Hello Dear Friends,<br /> Well it has only been six days since I left, but already home seems worlds away and ages ago. After two days of orientation in New York and almost twenty accumulative hours of flight I am on day 2 in Accra, Ghana. I will skip over my orientation in New York, (it wasn't very eventful) and skip straight ahead to my first impressions of Ghana.<br /> So where to start. Ghana is amazing. Ghana is startling. Ghana is different than anything I've ever known. I am trying to keep these brief and readable, so for today I will share just one of my experiences. On day one we traveled from the hostel we are staying in to the beach, a distance of 10-15 miles, a trip that took at least an hour each way. The beach itself was, well a beach, and there is nothing to explain there. But the ride to and from was a first look at life in a Ghanaian city, and it was incredible. First off, the driving is insane. There are people, goats, chickens, dogs, etc. walking constantly along and across the streets, and yet the fearless drivers still drive at gut wrenching speeds. As far as I can tell the only signal people really use much is their horn, and it is almost constantly beeping. The next part of this ride that was new were the street vendors. There were hundreds of them, and at every stop they would rush up to our open windows, trying to sell us rich "abrunis" items wranging from candy to sunglasses to yams to screwdrivers. I wonder how much of a product these diligent salesman manage to make, because of the hundreds of them we passed, I saw five or less sales. The other part of this ride that was also incredible was the poverty. I had of course known it would be everywhere, but seeing it first hand was another story. It is absolutely numbing to see it all, be it naked little children standing atop garbage piles, bone skinny old men or women sitting inside there about to collapse little shacks. And seeing all of this I also have to take into mind that Ghana is one of the better off African nations, which is also quite numbing. That said, there are many positive things happening here. As our orientation leader said to me earlier, there are so many good things happening in Ghana and in Africa, but Americans and other foreigners seemed obsessed with only focusing on the negative things. The poverty rate here is declining, there water and other services are improving, good things are definitely happening. And aside from that many people live happy content lives, but because there lives are simple and do not involve much technology it is assumed that they are impoverished.<br /> Accra is very dirty and as I said poverty is present everywhere, but despite that I am already in love with the culture. Part of this I think is because it is so completely different from the U.S. For instance, as far as I can tell 90% of shopping is done out on the street, and price is always negotiable. This provides for a very lively and also loud atmosphere everywhere in the city. Also the smells are all competely new, both good and bad. All the sewers here are open trenches along the roads, so that at first was a bit nausiating. But then there are the smells of street food, and that is very pleasant. I am not planning on eating much of that street food, but so far the food that has been prepared for us has been delicious. In general a meal consists of a staple food, (plantanes, yams, beans) and some sort of very spicy sauce that usually contains meet. Although the meals are all similar, they have all been some of the most delicious meals of my life. And to end this, the last thing I will add is that the people I have met here so far are amazing. Everyone is very friendly and of course very interested to hear about the U.S. I met a man yesterday who greeted me by asking who I was voting for, and when I told him that I supported Obama he broke into an ear to ear grin and gave my an enthusastic handshake. There are very few white people here, so in part I think we are a bit of a novelty and people wish to talk to us because of that, but they also do seem genuinly interested in knowing a bit about us and about our country.<br /> Ok well that is all I am going to write for today, I hope that I did not write to much and that it is readable. In my next post I will try to add some pictures, I think they will be quite fun to see. Also, my posts are also viewable at <a href="http://www.wesfinger.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">www.wesfinger.blogspot.com</a>.<br /> I hope all is well back in the States, and I hope all of you are doing well.<br />Best Wishes,<br />WesleyWeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5720655280500743843.post-1775409070610157772008-08-29T09:24:00.000-07:002008-08-29T09:28:26.946-07:00Departure Approaches8/29/08<br /><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Although a couple weeks ago it seemed like it was something very distant that would never happen, my departure suddenly is imminent. I am scrambling to get everything done, packing, thank you notes for fundraising contributions, gifts for my host family, the list goes on but despite all of that I am very excited to be on my way. I am of course very sad to be leaving everything I love here in Bham, my friends, my bicycle, my puppy, our lovely cool climate, but that sadness is overshadowed by the feeling that I am moving on to a experience that will be unlike anything I have done yet in my short life. </div><div>Stay posted for my first post from Ghana, probably somewhere during the second week of August.</div>Weshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11547133874891769315noreply@blogger.com1