Drinking pito with the Elder Father of the Nawuri

Kpandai

The Peace Corps sub-office in Tamale has been rearing rabbits, and I've had a few days recently to spend with them (i.e. chase them around the yard in the desperate attempt to feel their soft, furriness upon my skin.  I've decided that my idea of a utopian society definitely involves the harmonious union of rabbits, cats, and possibly voiceless chickens.  

  

There is nothing more wonderful than watching a rabbit eat.

This week I visited my two best students' families in their home village of Kpandai, 8 hours from my site down a dusty, deteriorating road heading south toward the Volta river.  It was an incredible experience, and one of the most profound of my PC memories. Kwabena, Foster, Mark (PC volunteer), and I took the afternoon Metro Mass bus to Kpandai, and arrived around 10 pm.  We stayed in another volunteer's house (he's in America right now), and coincidentally, my student's sister and aunt live right behind the volunteer's house. Small world. The following day, we were taken around the village, from compound to compound, meeting extended family. I can't count the number of brothers and sisters I met.  We even met the Elder Father of the Nawuri kingdom (the oldest man, who is over 100 years old).  He is blind and has no teeth, but he is very wise, lucid, and quite a talker when you get him going.  One of Kwabena's older brothers interpreted for me, and I asked the Elder Father why two of my best students are from Kpandai village.  Is it the water?  He said something about the good values that the parents have bestowed on the children.  In the afternoon, we travelled another hour or so down an even worse road to the banks of the Volta river, where my student's father is a headmaster at a school in Kitari.  We were generously gifted two live roosters, and three giant sacks of yams from the two families.  Thankfully, everything is possible in Ghana, and we managed to get the yams and chickens back to my house with the help of a few strong-necked women.  Somehow, the chickens survived the 8 hour bus ride (underneath the bus!), and now they will be enjoyed by some neighbors who appreciate cooked flesh more than I do. 

Me and Kwabena waiting at the Metro Mass station.  Kwabena, especially, was so thankful that I visited his family, and I only hope that now that they have been told directly what a stellar student he is, that they will do everything to support him into high school and beyond.  Of all the great people I have met in Ghana, he is the most hardworking, smart, humble, trustworthy, and kind.  I cannot say enough good things about this young man, and I tried to make that clear to his relatives in the hope that they will push him to succeed.  I don't want this kid to spend his life on a yam farm, and I know he doesn't want that for himself either.    

Elder Father of the Nawuri kingdom (left), blessing the pito we are sharing (or something like that).

Me, Kwabena, the elder Nawuri, and another brother, Kofi Andrews (an english teacher).  The elder was wearing three layers of winter hats...as we sit a few inches from the equator.  

Kwabena, his grandmother, and me.

Kwabena and his brothers, in the family compound (I'm not sure why they insist on looking so sullen in photos).  Kwabena's brothers (all named Kofi Andrews) were very warm and talkative, and I really enjoyed sitting with them.  

My two students and I with Kwabena's mother and other family members.

Some neighborhood kids in Foster's compound

Volta river in Kitari

Scale shot of some of the yams I was gifted.  That's a 12 inch ruler.

My gifted rooster being tied up by Foster.

I have never seen as many yams as I saw in Kpandai.  Huge farms, and trucks filled with yams headed to Accra.  

Foster's grandmother is the headmistress at a nursery school.

My student, Foster, and his grandmother.

I'm showing way too much leg in this photo...but look at those colors!

Me, Foster, Foster's father, and Kwabena.  Foster's father was the typical Ghanaian anti-conversationalist, who listened to his radio and stared into space for most of the time that I was visiting, despite my desperate efforts to stir up some dialog.  

The first term of my second school year in Ghana is mostly over---I've given all my exams, and finished grading. Today is the Ghanaian presidential election, so we are all in "Stand Fast" at our sites through Monday morning, waiting to see if all will be peaceful. 

I recently watched an American television show called Jungle Gold, that is about the current gold rush in Ghana (who knew?).  It is the worst portrayal of Ghanaians, Americans, and America I have ever seen. It sentimentalizes these white, body-builder, debt-ridden, country-raping American thieves, who come to Ghana to pillage the country and take all its gold, plowing over anything and anyone in their path, in order to pay back their million dollar debt.  Well boys, maybe you should sell your fancy cars and houses instead of coming to Ghana to destroy the forest, leaving nothing but a gaping mud pit.  It's really the antithesis of everything we are working for as PC volunteers. Shame on the Discovery Channel for producing such crap.  

Looking back to July, I finally got my hands on some of the good group photos from the Leadership Camp.  

Two students, the one on the right is Fatima, who everyone thinks is my child because I brought her to the school (they ask me in sign language, 'did you give birth to her?') ...and I paid for this uniform.  Way overpriced, if you ask me.  

My project, Lines Stand Up.

This is my awesome P4 student, David.

Working on a new mural.

My neighbor, Ignatius, surrounded by his giant pile of maize.  

One of my students and her beautiful coil pot.

I finally made fufu.  These are the cut yams, ready to be boiled.

We killed a guinea fowl for the groundnut soup. I don't eat meat, so I mostly did it for my student, Kwabena, who gave me all the yams.  

De-feathering

Kwabena insisted that we cook every part of the guinea fowl, including head and feet.  He eats the bones too.  

Pounding fufu on a rainy night.  Great exercise.

Painting using only q-tips.  This class, P5, is really crazy and disorderly, but the moment I handed out the paint, they became completely silent and focused on their work.  I wished I had more witnesses. 

Finished wall mural.

One of my star art students, Ganiyu, trying to look tough.

Amedeba, another good student, and he's very handsome, don't you think?

Rahim Iddrisu, a great artist, also trying to look tough.

Rosarius, in the green t-shirt, wanted me to take his picture in his newly painted classroom.

Students pretending to be hard at work.

This kid is quite a character, and has the most beautiful blue eyes.  He sits with me while I'm painting.

Yay, paper bag turkeys!

Butterflies with glitter.

An American foundation gave hearing aids to every student at my school, and also to students from the three other deaf schools in the north.  However, only a small fraction of the students actually benefit from the hearing aids, and they all make a high pitched whining noise (feedback), which sounds like a forest of cicadas while I'm teaching. It's a little distracting, you might say.

We made water sachet coin purses in class.

Mural of the fruits and vegetables of Ghana, many of which my students have never tasted.

We made masks and added feathers, but most of the feathers just ended up in students' hair.

We visited Mark's homestay mother, and this is her son, Nana, in his new smock that we brought him from the north.

Peace Corps friends, at Thanksgiving dinner at the American Ambassador's house in Accra.

My homestay diplomat, Sara, and Mark and I, after Thanksgiving dinner.  

With the American Ambassador at his house.  That strained look on my face is me trying to suck in my Thanksgiving food belly.  

Yes, there is an Irish Pub in Accra.  Very strange.  

My students standing in front of a review game we played.

Masks!

A primary 2 student made me this drawing of Savelugu Market Day.

Another mural wall in Primary 1.

We have swings with the Ghana flag painted on them!

I'm going to repair this old world map mural at my school.  

Junior, David, and Rasheed, trying to look tough (teachers' sons).