Saturday, July 30, 2011

Savelugu Market, Tamale Market

Tamale market

Tamale Market

Tamale market

My town sign! (No, I don't wear this dress every day) (This is the day I got heat rash all over my lower legs--eww)

shea butter...I think

Savelugu market

Savelugu Market

Savelugu Market

Savelugu used clothing market




I apologize--this is a little dull. As part of our site visit week, we were asked to do a community HIV/AIDS assessment. This means that we were each expected to go to schools, churches, health clinics, etc. in our respective communities and ask them basic questions about HIV education, testing, and stigma. The assessment is part of a new Peace Corps/Obama initiative called PEPFAR that includes funding specifically targeted toward educational outreach about safe sex, condom use, etc. Unfortunately for us trainees, it was a bit much to ask of us to arrive at our site, and several days later to be out in the community ‘knocking on doors,’ requesting information. Not only am I not familiar with my community yet, or where things are located, but I’m also not known in the community, and Ghanaians (naturally) are a lot less forthcoming with a foreign face. This sort of assessment is much more appropriate some months down the line, when we have successfully integrated into our communities, know the proper formalities, protocols, and hierarchies, and we (hopefully) have many contacts and friends to help us glean this sensitive HIV data.

On the second day of my arrival in Savelugu, my headmistress took me to the District Health Administration, which was an excellent first step in the assessment process. There, I gave them my Letter of Introduction (given to me by PC), and I was introduced to the Director, and then given an appointment for later in the week to meet with the HIV education coordinator. Perfect! So, that was a positive example of how things work here in Ghana; I had one powerful community member introduce me to another powerful community member, and doors magically opened.

From there, I went on my own to a nearby high school, and spoke to some teachers who basically gave me a bunch of hot air about how they would support and counsel any student who was diagnosed with HIV. I highly doubt that would be the case in reality given the intense stigma against people living with HIV in Ghana. In fact, the student would probably be pressured to leave the school, either from other parents or from the administration. In addition, the student almost certainly would never disclose that they are HIV positive, knowing that it would be like committing suicide within the community.

So, having gained little useful information from the high school, I moved on to a small health clinic across the street. I was told they were very busy and that I should come back the next day. On the following day, I arrived, and spoke to the head nurse who almost had me sit down for our interview, but then she called the District Health Administration, who told her that she should tell me nothing, and that I should come directly to their main office. Well, I thought, great, maybe they are going to give me an early interview. No such luck. After racing across town, I arrived to find a surly woman who reprimanded me, telling me that I could not just go to any clinic and ask questions without getting prior approval from the Director, and that my brazen disregard of hierarchies is not how things are done in Ghana. Thanks Peace Corps (!!) for helping me to burn bridges in my community before I’ve even really arrived. Why on earth did they ask us to do this if it is inappropriate to go to individual clinics? Of course, a layperson can’t go waltzing into hospitals in the U.S. asking for private/sensitive information, but because we are white people in Africa, we should have open access?? No. My one solace is knowing that the surly woman at the District Health Office is known as a nazi among all of the PC volunteers who have dealt with her. And she's being transferred out of the district imminently.

So, 'community assessment' was frustrating; it made an otherwise awesome site visit, somewhat more sour. I did meet with the Public Health Director in Savelugu who essentially told me what she thought I should hear, such as, “Yes, everyone is educated about HIV, and a lot of Ghanaians are using condoms, and stigma is minimal.” Hmm. Right.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Bunso, Traveling, Site Visit

I apologize, this post is out of order, with the earlier stuff at the end...

On Saturday morning, I woke up at 3:30 a.m., ate breakfast, and got on a bus with my counterpart and the other education volunteers headed to northern sites, and we drove to Kumasi, the second largest city in Ghana. Morning traffic in Kumasi was as bad as Los Angeles, and there was some confusion about which bus station we needed to take us to Tamale. I was lucky that I had my counterpart wheeling/carrying a good portion of my luggage through Kumasi because I have acquired quite a few items in the last 40 days or so, thus making my load more unwieldy than ever (we were told to bring everything to our site now, even though we won’t be there permanently for another month).

By 10 a.m. I was on the Tamale-bound bus with 4 other volunteers who will be stationed near me. It was a gorgeous drive, pushing further north into Ghana, out of the tropical forest vegetation and into the flat savannah with sparse trees and red earth. It is the rainy season, so this normally dry region is vibrant green. I got a mere glimpse of the third largest city in Ghana, Tamale, and then I was in a taxi headed 30 minutes north through Savelugu and to my site 2 km outside of town on the main road. I arrived right at dusk, and the sky was a brilliant pink, bathing everything in its glow. Unfortunately and unexpectedly, I’m not staying in my actual home while I’m visiting because there are two teachers living there until I come back in September. Bummer. On the bright side, I’m staying at the headmistress’s house, which has a great toilet and shower, a large hard bed, a fan, and cable TV. I’m not a big fan of Nigerian movies, and that seems to be the only thing that plays on TV here. It’s as if the Nigerian film industry has yet to discover the boom mike—the sound is very echo-y. I like the headmistress, Immaculate, from my first conversations with her, although I did see her cane a student within a few minutes of arriving on campus. I have no idea what she is like as an administrator, but she’s very casual in her home. I love that she is a powerful woman in the community, and that her husband lies around in the shade all day and listens to the radio.

I have seen inside my new home, and although it needs some new paint and perhaps a mattress immediately, it is quite nice. I love the bush around my school--it is all farmland, with many flat, dirt paths to run on in the early morning hours. I will have to get a bike right away, though, because I am 2 km outside of town, and it's inconvenient to flag a ride. There are several deaf teachers at my school, which is great because they are excellent at sign language and can help me to learn more quickly.


my school

cafeteria

my classroom

my classroom exterior

school campus

Savelugu market

Donald Judd meets African livestock

into the bush

road into Savelugu from my school

my classroom

off into the bush

my house!!

backyard of my house, looking at the latrine

soccer field looking across at my house

animals on campus

headmistress's house where I'm staying

Tamale taxi station

the road north, through the bus window

street scene in Kumasi, out the bus window


Out the bus window, on the road to Tamale

street scene in Kumasi out the bus window

out the bus window in Kumasi

waiting for the bus in Kumasi with my fellow Northern region volunteers

street view in Kumasi

one of the big bus stations in Kumasi (called Racetrack, Racecourse?)

Last week was incredibly tedious for the most part. We traveled to Bunso, thirty minutes away from Kukurantumi in the Eastern Region, and stayed at Bunso Cocoa College. There, we met our ‘counterparts,’ the folks who (theoretically) we will be working most closely with at our schools. My counterpart is a very shy young gentleman named Ben (he likes to be called ‘Benghazi,’ but I’m not really sure that anyone actually calls him that), who has only been teaching at Savelugu for one year. He did not exactly give me the warm welcome I was expecting when I met him (in fact he said nothing at all), but I now understand he was just intimidated or is generally quiet, which is fine because so am I! I think I’ve met too many gregarious, aggressively friendly Ghanaians already, and I was anticipating they would all have exactly the same personality. I’m sure Ben and I will get along very well, and perhaps he will allow me the autonomy I’m hoping for.

Bunso is an incredibly beautiful area of Ghana, like a storybook, with towering trees, dense, lush forest, and lots of rain. My friends and I went running on some wonderful dirt paths that seem to go forever, winding into the bush. There is also a rest stop-type restaurant in Bunso that serves pizza (!!!) and other American food for highly inflated prices. It was totally worth the cost to escape the monotony of Ghanaian food (can you believe that even though Ghanaians eat fufu and banku for every meal of every day, they still list it as their favorite food?!?).

The majority of the week, however, was spent in a classroom watching endless powerpoint presentations given by uninspiring speakers regarding HIV/AIDS education and awareness, community mobilization, and behavior change. The week was a blur of flip charts, flow charts, bar charts, bullet points, superfluous acronyms, and gruesome STD images. I mostly read from a novel (Jonathan Franzen’s “Freedom”), sent sarcastic text messages across the room, and nodded off occasionally to pass the time. Besides the pizza, the highlight of the week was a traditional dance night, with representatives from different regions of Ghana. Toward the end of the evening, I was the first American to stand up and dance with the Ghanaians, and the crowd went wild. Evidently, I’m a natural at African dance (thank you, mom, for endowing me with the rear-end genetics), so despite not being a Christian, and my daily defiance of gender norms (i.e., I play sports), and the real tragedy of being a vegetarian, I might have some remaining hope of integration into this culture…through booty shaking. I will post videos as soon as I get some fast internet access.


pizza with real cheese!!!

Bunso Cocoa College Dorms

Banyan tree? on campus

ridiculous photo of our Ghanaian dance party

traditional dance night

more dancing

traditional dance

Bunso early morning

Bunso: storybook Africa

bush path, Bunso


river?, creek?

Friday, July 15, 2011

More Volta School for the Deaf


We said our sad goodbyes today at the Volta school. It has been great to get to know a few of the really talented, amazing vocational students. I think we trainees are even more excited to visit our own sites, and meet our students, who we will work with for the next 2 years. Tomorrow, we head back to Kukurantumi at 6am, and then on to Bunso, where we will meet our 'counterparts' from our respective schools. I hear there is pizza in Bunso, and I might be ready to spend some serious Ghana cedi to eat some.

all gas should be happy

ants carrying a roach carcass up the wall (this is good evening entertainment here in Hohoe)

Bless, Fekbay (sp?), and Forgive wearing smocks made with Kente that they created (I love these guys--they are amazing, I will miss them)

deaf vocational students and Promise (the most fashionable woman in Ghana) and Scott outside of Promise's store
(the store will be called "Our Talking Hands")

the official opening of Promise's store

Forgive, spinning the thread onto the rack, preparing the thread for kente weaving

afternoon free time activities include jumprope, drumming, cartwheeling, etc.

afternoon volleyball (it turns out I'm terrible at volleyball--too much standing around waiting for the hard ball to hit my arm; reminds me of the dark days of junior high gym class)


(the other) Kate making knitting magic happen on campus