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.