So.. I’ve written a book, or at least it’s feeling that way. I feel like this is the longest blog ever written. This in no way can ever capture what my trip to Northern Ghana was really like, but it should give you a great picture of what we were doing there!
On Monday morning we got up super early (5 a.m. early) and got on the bus that would be our main mode of transportation for the week. (side note: all I kept thinking was how absolutely wonderful it would be to have a large cup of coffee- this was clearly not feasible) I was really excited for this trip but also a bit apprehensive as we had heard from previous groups and had read that the trip was going to be rough. I fully anticipated several of us getting sick. To my great surprise the trip to Yendi, our first destination, was not bad at all. Of course, many of the roads we took were not on real roads at all- according to western standards (think red dirt roads that have been washed out in several areas), but no one got sick. Granted we were all popping dramamine to avoid any motion sickness- and enjoying the added side effect of drowsiness. Apart from this I should mention that we made three stops on our way up for bathroom breaks etc. To understand how different a road trip in Ghana is to that in North America it might be helpful to know that rest stops do not mean fast food joints and restrooms, but rather pit latrines, and fruit stands. We of course had all made sure we brought plenty of toilet paper for the week (have I told you that toilet paper is rarely offered in public bathrooms- our university included) and plenty of small change (it is often required to pay 10-20 pesewes to use the latrine, and if not required, it is assumed that you will tip who ever seems to be standing there) While we are on the topic of washrooms, we discovered after we had returned from our trip some of the cultural no-no’s we were guilty of. In particular, our use of the latrines was seen by locals as very bizarre. While we were rather oblivious to it, the locals who were at the latrines were quite annoyed and curious as to why all of us women would not use the space all at once? Looking back there was enough space in the areas so that they could be used by many women. Of course this is a testimony to the huge cultural differences surrounding issues of personal space. It had never occurred to us that we should all use the same “toilet” at the same time!
We arrived in Yendi around 5:30 p.m. Yendi is in the north eastern part of Ghana. If you grab a map of Ghana, the northern part of the country is divided into three main regions. The northern region, the upper east region and the upper west region. Yendi is in the northern region, about 2 hours NE of Tamale, the largest city in the north. When we arrived we picked up some food and drove to our guesthouse- the Yahaya Iddi guesthouse.
We were all exhausted but we went out to meet the local Imam. While the southern part of Ghana is predominantly Christian, the northern region is Muslim. We were guided through what the Muslim community in Yendi looks like, and were able to ask questions of the Imam, no actually we were forced to ask questions, as they went around in a circle and told us to ask a question. This whole experience was an interesting one. It was very dark out and we sat on a porch in the dark, surrounded by 50 men from the community, of course no women. I get the feeling that we were being laughed at, in large part because our group consists mostly of women, and women are not seen out and about, especially not in the way that we were dressed. As usual when I sit in on discussion concerning the Muslim community, (it really brought me back to my trip to Europe 2 years ago that surrounded Muslim integration into European culture) I am conflicted. The Imam spoke of how important peace is, that we are all one and love is paramount. And yet while he spoke of equality of all human beings under Allah he made sure we were clear on the position that women have in society. This of course frustrates me, and sitting there I was getting more and more upset. Of course taking on the Imam at 9:00 at night, sitting in complete darkness, surrounded by 50 men, being a woman and in a foreign country, was not something I was really up to at the time, so I continued to sit and listen
On Tuesday morning we were up early to discovery the municipality of Yendi. Alhaji A.I Sulemana the director of the grassroots organization -the Bong-gu-manga Integrated Rural Development Society (BIRDS) was to be our guide for the next couple of days. This particular organization grew out of relief work that was done after a 1994 ethnic conflict of the Dagomba people, a conflict which resulted in many deaths. From here the organization turned its focus to education, women’s programs, peace building/transformation and food security programs. A tiny organization, BIRDS is primarily funded through donations and a small amount from the central government. Sulemana suggested that the two greatest challenges facing the organization are attitudes. For example when a girl has education here she is seen as no longer worth marrying. This is rare though as women are usually barred from further education as most Muslim girls are married off before their second menstrual cycle, and most non-Muslim girls by the age of 10-11. The second challenge, is of course, funding.
Peace building is vital in Yendi as ethnic groups are rather divided in the area. They still have not come to a resolution of differences after the 2002 death of the king in the area. BIRDS works hard to create an open space for dialogue between the opposing ethnic groups.
After our meeting at BIRDS we left for the small village community of Gundoyu to meet with one of the very few female chiefs in Ghana. We arrived at her palace- a compound of several mud huts and entered to find her and several of her “wives.” (Both male and female, and not actually married to the chief, these people do work for her) We took our shoes off and congregated around her in the hut. She told us about her community through our translator. There are only seven female chiefs in all of Ghana. She spoke of her development concerns, how she had implemented a school in her nine years of chieftancy. She was adamant that development continue but that tradition not leave-this seems like an impossible challenge to me.
At this point I’ll be really honest and say that it felt like we were part of a Discovery channel or CBC special documentary. Sitting in the dark cool hut, bare feet, flies everywhere, our translator relaying everything to us, and kilometres away from even the nearest city, it just seemed so surreal. It was one of those experiences you watch on tv, and never expect to be a part of.
In the afternoon we visited a women’s group that is supported by BIRDS. Here women work in the process of creating shea butter- which comes from the shea nut tree. These women complete everything by hand from start to finish. It was so interesting to see each part of the process carried out. None of what this group makes is exported, but is sold in local markets, and in reality is hardly enough for them to even pay the basic school fees for their children. The women were really open to showing us what they did, though none of us could communicate. THe finished product was amazing and 100 times better than any chemical infused, half real product I could buy back at home.
The afternoon events that came next, are ones that I will most likely never forget, broke me down the most, and made me realize again how complex we humans are. We drove an hour out of Yendi to a witches camp. This is a community that has been created for women ( and some men) who have been accused of witchcraft. For many Ghanaians, witchcraft is a very real thing, and exists for Christians and non Christians alike. The majority of women in this camp are accused of either killing a family or community member, or eating their flesh. Women are not condemned to this camp, but rather either flee here, or are sent by their families so as to escape abuse or most certainly death in their own communities. Once they have left, most of the women can never return.
Upon arriving at the camp we were greeted by many of the women, as well as many more of their children! They quickly latched on to us, and it was quickly evident to me how much these children were lacking in terms of nutrition and basic care. Many of the children were malnourished as noted by their protruding bellies. Many were also covered in open sores, lice, and it was obvious that diseases like TB were an issue in this community. Regardless, one minute we were on the bus and the next I was amongst a large group of boys, a very deflated soccer ball and having an incredible amount of fun with these kids. While I was hot and sweaty ( It was a good 35-40C that day) I think I could have stayed there for hours. It was so great to see the joy on their faces and to hear their laughter. I was so overwhelmed by everything I saw. These women have been left with literally nothing. Many of them never see their family members again. They have been abandoned by their husbands, sons or fathers.
The camp is watched over by a fetish priest who, upon the arrival of a convicted witch, will prepare some sort of test to decide whether she really is a witch. Of course, regardless of the outcome (which happens to have to do with the direction in which a chicken lays after it has had it’s neck severed) the women really have no other choice but to stay their for their own safety. It was incredible to me, as we sat in the middle of the compound with 60-70 of these women, that even after all they had been through, that while none of them believed they were witches, they still believed that witchcraft is alive and well in Ghana and that real witches should be killed.
Our drive back to our guesthouse had us winding back down a ridiculously bumpy road- which really wasn’t a road at all. As nightfall came over us, my eyes were drawn to the sky which I continued to watch for the remainder of the trip. It was amazing. Because it was dark, I was able to see thousands and thousands of stars. It was just one more thing that drew me to think about how incredible God really is. Despite the brokenness of this world, despite how incredibly angry the plight of the women and children in the camp made me, there was an undeniable beauty evidenced in everything I saw. This can and could only be attributed to a creator who still holds on tightly to a sinful world. And that is what gives me hope. To see Christ in the women whose lives have been shattered, in the children who suffer from lack of healthcare and education--this makes me cling to the promise of greater things to come.
Wednesday we left Yendi for the city of Tamale, the largest city in the northern region. Here we stayed at TICCS (Tamale Institute for Cross Cultural Studies). We met with Mark the director of the institute who guided us what the institution has been established for, as well as outlining a bit about development goals in the area and how the institution is connected to those. TICCS emphasizes that it is essential to look at development the way that the local people do- that only when you see from the people’s perspective - than you can actually be of help. I am so on board with this!
In the evening we met three great people with whom we quickly became great friends. Osman, Iddirisu, and Efti- were three guys we met at the jungle bar ( a really sweet bar that has three seperate patios- kind of like you are in a tree). Both Osman and Iddirisu work for the Youth Centre in Tamale. They were arts students in college and now lead drumming, dancing and visual arts classes. They were incredibly talented, and the next three nights at TICCS involved a lot of games. drumming, dancing and so much laughter.
Thursday was again an overwhelming and incredibly interesting day. We woke up to a lovely breakfast at TICCS- fonio, jam, bread, and REAL coffee! Fonio is a dish that is commonly eaten in the northern part of the country. The english or colonial name was “hungry rice.” The plant grows one metre in height and its green grains are very difficult to process. In case of prolonged drought the last thing to be taken out would be the fonio as it does not spoil easily. In fact in can be stored for up to years before being used! Fonio does not contain any fats and is high in iron.
We visited three different organizations on Thursday. Our first visit took us to GILLBTS (Ghana Institute for Literacy and Linguistics, and Bible Translation) This organization is affiliated with the university of Ghana and Wycliffe Bible Translators. They are involved in academic research, bible translation, development, literacy, training and scripture in use. Currently the organization has completed 12 full bibles, 23 new testaments, and are working on 34 different language projects in 6 different regions.
In the afternoon we visited the World Vision office which started in Ghana in 1997. World Vision International is largely focused on child sponsorship and in recent years I have been a bit of sceptic when it comes to their marketing and funding strategies at the international level. While it was not my intention,(at this office anyways) I found myself trying to carefully suggest that perhaps the way in which funding is achieved for World Vision initiatives is in part a manipulation of the donor unaware. Of course when one sponsors a child the money does not go directly to that child or to that child’s family, nor should it as this could spark so many issues at the community level. This though, is how WV promotes its work, that your $25 a month goes to this child and improves their life in some particular ways. While this is not an outright lie, it is not the complete truth either and for me personally this has recently raised so many questions about donors, development strategies, and the connection of the developed world to the developing world.
This particular office though, is essentially at the bottom of the hierarchy that is World Vision. It is the people at the grassroots level, the community members who are working alongside their communities to fulfill the projects that World Vision sees as important. To work towards achieving goals and targets particularly (In Northern Ghana) in the areas of hygiene, sanitation and education. Their work is vital.
Our last visit of the day was to Catholic Relief Services which has been working in Ghana for 52 years. If you don’t know anything about this organization, CRS aligns itself with Catholic social teaching, and regards the dignity of the human as paramount. Key to organization are the words of St. Francis “ preach the gospel always but use words only when needed.” CRS does away with any form of outright evangelization with the belief that actions will tell the people of Jesus Christ, and that they have no right to discriminate against any religious affiliation. CRS does not work directly in communities but rather works through smaller grassroots organizations in areas such as sustainable potable water and improved sanitation, micro-enterprise, and gender issues.
On Friday we visited our last NGO of the trip- The Christian Children’s Fund of Canada (a Canadian NGO!) It was very similar to the other NGO’s that we had visited- particularly World Vision and CRS.
After our visit we left for Bolgatanga and Papa which are in the upper east region at the northern border of Ghana. It took three hours, and while the scenery was beautiful we really had no where to stop and use the bathroom. Chelsea, Annica and Corrie finally had to use the bathroom so bad that we stopped near some long grass for them to go. I also had to go, but I know that long grass probably equals really large snakes and I wasn’t wrong. Corrie had a large green and yellow snake jump on her, and while she handled it well I am not so sure what I would have done. (If you don’t know, I am deathly afraid of snakes. If you want to know how deathly afraid of snakes I am- ask my Omie about the tiny snake I made her kill when I was 13 and mowing her lawn --with a riding lawn tractor).
Anyways we got to Paga where we were going to see the crocodile ponds (Ghanaians pronounce crocodile like this- croc-co-dile-- emphasize each part emphatically and roll the r). It is said in Paga that the indigenous people of the area each have their own crocodile and when the human dies so does the crocodile- it is something spiritual. The crocodiles do not eat anyone from the community and they do not eat anyone’s chicken or guinea fowl unless they are fed. There are ten ponds around the community and we attended the largest one. These crocodiles were not tame and had the potential to harm us. but the keeper of the crocodiles (as I like to refer to him) with the yellow rain coat and large safety glasses assured us that we would be okay. We made our way through the swamp- getting very muddy, and had our pictures taken with the crocodile. The crocodile was really not threatening as long as it kept its mouth shut and didn’t move.
Once we had finished our tour of the pond, we left for the Ghana/Burkina Faso border. For some reason Samuel (our semester long assistant and a grad student at the Institute of African Studies) thought that we would be allowed to cross the border as all West Africans are allowed to do. This was obviously not the case, we needed passports, and we did not press the French Nationals at the border as they brought out their guns at our approach. So we left Burkina Faso, we left Paga and the crocodiles and headed back to TICCS in Tamale. I am not so sure that this trip was worth the long drive, but I can now say that I sat on a crocodile and stood in two places at once.
On Saturday we prepared ourselves for what everyone said would be the worst drive of the semester. We were headed to Mole National Park (pronounced mole-eey). I must say that things were not nearly as bad as some had made them out to be. Because it is the rainy season it was assumed that the roads would be quite washed out. In fact, I had been speaking to a Bible translator from the UK a few days earlier who claimed we would need a tractor to get our bus through! Apparently the road was graded last year and so things were not so bad. I guess by standards back home, most of it wouldn’t actually be considered road. Here if we make it through and no one gets sick, its a great road!
Before arriving in Mole, we stopped in the village of Larabanga. This is the setting for the oldest mosque in Ghana. The village is 100% Muslim, and extremely poor. When we arrived our bus was swarmed by children and young men, many of them desiring money for their schooling. They followed us to our tour of the mosque, which was quite short as we were not allowed to go inside. I met three boys who all happened to be brothers. When I told them that I was a student, they were so excited to tell me that they were just like me because they were students too. It was so wonderful to see how excited they got about their schooling, and how eager each of them was to tell me about their favourite subjects. Seeing how important their schooling was to them, made me think of how much we take our schooling for granted. It is both assumed and expected that almost all children will go to school until grade 12, but here things are different. For many children they are unable to go to school if their parents are not able to pay the fees for uniforms and books. These fees are so small, and yet for many Ghanaian parents, particularly in the north, they are unable to pay. We spent such a short time here. It was hard to leave them behind so quickly.
Then, we reached Mole. It was so hot! Between Saturday and Monday when we left, the temperature hovered around 45 degrees (thats 113F for any Americans reading this), and it’s not even the dry season yet!
Mole is such a beautiful place! We stayed in a hostel in the park, and the view was breathtaking. The compound sat on a hill overlooking a huge waterhole, over which the huge African sun set every night. Fortunately there was a pool that if we weren’t out on a safari, or eating, or sleeping, we were sitting in the pool. On Saturday when we arrived we did a walking tour which required us to be clothed from head to toe and be wearing closed toed shoes or rubber boots, so as to avoid jiggers, ticks, and snacks. This was a great walk. Our guide took us around to several of the waterholes throughout the forest/savanna but we did not see any elephants ( though we saw many footprints) Of course the trip was not in vain as we saw many antelope (more or less a really exotic version of a deer, to any North American taking the trip) lots of monkeys, and numerous warthogs. We returned to the compound for a jump in the pool and then an early night to bed. (There were just to many bugs to be had, and to much heat to stay out) The next morning I slept in for the first time in weeks!- till 8 a.m. Our group had had the option of going on an early morning tour (walking) but myself and several others had opted to take the afternoon walk instead. Of course, of course, of course we did not go and lo and behold those who did end up going also ended up following an elephant around at 30 ft. for about a half hour. I was sort of down about this but then decided with seven others in the group to rent a jeep for the afternoon, get a guide and take a driving tour deep into the park. Though expensive it was incredibly worth it! We loaded up on bug spray because it was going to be a war with the flies (tsese flies which cause sleeping sickness. We drove deep into the woods for about two hours. Still no sign of elephants! In the end we saw so many things but no elephant. This was okay by me, I was content and had truly appreciated being completely immersed in the forest far away from anything that remotely resembles a phone, a computer, or a highway.
Canadian Thanksgiving! Unfortunately I spent 14 hours on a bus on this day and really missed being at home to participate with my crazy but beautiful family in their regular holiday antics. ( I really missed pumpkin pie, and well pretty much anything that mom, Omie, or Aunt Nita cook!) Actually, I did get to wish some fellow Canadians a blessed Thanksgiving on that day. There were only 30 people staying at the compound, and there was only one group of five girls sitting at breakfast near us. I heard them talking and figured out that they were Canadian. I gave myself the opportunity to share some Canadian love and wished them all a wonderful thanksgiving day. They are all part of a health sciences program at Mac that has them doing an internship with a non-profit in Wa working with HIV/AIDS orphans.
After the 14 hour trip, which involved sitting in traffic for the last two hours just outside of Accra I was incredibly thankful to be back at ISH
Wow, if you’ve made it this far, congrats! This barely scrapes at the surface of everything that I experienced in the week in the north. I can truly say that through all of these experiences I’ve so briefly explained above, my eyes were opened wider than they ever have been before. Everything about the week was a testimony to how vast and undiscovered the world still is. At every corner on this trip I am realizing how little I really do know. This is humbling, and also so rewarding. Soaking in so many words, images, ideas I have been incredibly overwhelmed as of late- but I don’t regret any of it.
In this past week, things have been a bit back to normal. We have had classes, the weather has been changing. It has become increasingly warmer, and very very windy. I’m starting to realize it’s crunch time- I only have 2.5 weeks of classes left!
This past Friday (October 16) Some of our group was able to travel 2 hours towards Kumasi to work with Habitat for Humanity in a community called Kibi. We spent a large portion of the day working with locally trained artisans to build block and brick houses. It was heavy work, but it felt really good to get outside and do some manual labour. Patrick, myself and one particular mason were able to get the walls of one block house completed.
To give you a better picture of Habitat for Humanity’s work in Ghana, this particular community has had 56 houses built in it so far. The houses are quite small- having 2 bedrooms, a living area and a bathroom. They usually take a month for the artisans to build. A house is typically worth about 2000 Ghana cedis- so somewhere between 1000-1500 American dollars. The family who qualifies for the home is responsible for a large part of the payment on the house, but pays in bags of cement, as the economy in Ghana is so unstable. Whatever a bag of cement is currently going for in Ghana, the family pays 2/3 of the price and repay however many bags their house is worth. They have ten years to pay this off.
Saturday evening we attended a play called “Take me to the Altar”- it was incredibly offensive in my opinion. The plot was as follows: Woman and man are married. The man no longer loves his wife because she is fat. A long story follows, the man is going to cheat on his wife but then in the end the woman he plans to meet ends up being his wife, only she has become skinny so they can love each other again. They live happily ever after. Here, my Ghanaian friends I went with, saw this as completely normal. You can imagine what kind of problems I had.
I am sure there are many more details I could add, but this is it for now
Oh. The power here has been out for three days. So has the water. No power has in part been a factor in getting this up super late. My apologies. I love that no electricity and no water are not a big deal here. I am learning that I can live by much simpler and less wasteful means- for real- actually living it because I have no other choice. I’m liking it. a lot.
love.
