Cats and my house

So, this blog will be of few words... but the usual creepy cat pictures that I am known for.

Yes, we have 6 (ish) cats who roam around our house/compound.  They cry for food all the time... but tsthey are the best fed cats in Ghana. I make sure of it. Although they would like me better if I could offer them something other than vegetarian left-overs... if only I had some fish heads like my meat-eating housemates...


My favourite. I call him "Little One" because he is the the Little One. Has not grown in 7 weeks. Strange, right?



Plus, check out the pool where I've started to swim nightly. It's quite posh.

I duck under this laundry every morning and evening to get delicious Ghanaian specialties. Like Milo.

The road leading to Becca Swimming Pools. My home.

Our corner. Odds are this taxi just honked at me. They ALL do. Even if you just got out of one... they still want you to get in their taxi. It's not happening.

Our neighbours are goats. No, they aren't really. But animals here are free-range. So, you need to look "left, then right, and then for goats" when crossing the street.

I promise more pictures and more stories soon.

Lots of love. XOXO

A day or two at the beach...

Let me start by apologizing for my absence.

I’m sorry – I have been internet-free for a week now. Trust me, it has gotten to me more than it has to you.

Regardless, I want to share some updates from Ghana and show some pictures from my relaxing weekend at Kokrobite Beach and Big Milly.

Last week Friday, Aimee, Kat (2 other volunteers) and I made the journey out of big, sweaty Accra and headed west to the nearest beach town, Kokrobite

(pronounced KO-CROW-BEE-TAY). We had this GREAT idea to escape traffic by leaving the city a few hours early… We are so smart.

Well traffic is pretty steady in Accra… it took be half an hour on the side of a dusty road under construction to find a tro tro headed to Circle to meet the girls. When I finally got to Circle, the girls let me know that they were stuck in traffic and I should just hang out and wait for them.

Great.

(Note sarcasm!)

So, here I am with my backpack on, exhausted, and standing on the side of the road AGAIN for 40 minutes. At least I had a distraction…

I seemed to make the day of 2 boys (about 13-14) who were working/selling stuff/hanging out across the overpass from me. They kept waving at me. And I kept laughing. They were really funny…. At least until they started taking about a hundred pictures of me on their cell phones.

That was just hilarious.

Boys dodging through traffic to take pictures of the sweaty, lost solo-Obruni to be found.  So I laughed, and smiled at them and waited some more.

Finally, they worked up the nerve to send over a younger boy in a school uniform with a note. On it was their phone number – and I was supposed to write my number down for them to call me.

I almost choked – these boys have nerve! I am clearly not 13.

So, I wrote them back a note… didn’t give out my number, of course… and finally caught up with Kat and Aimee.

After a series of dodging through small alleys and markets, over an overpass, an one packed short bus ride between tro tro stations – to which we heard the very interesting Sales Pitch of a man selling some sort of miracle pills…. To the tune of “Blah blah blah (in Twi) hemmoroids…. Blah blah blah diarrhoea…. Blah blah Blah 2 Ghana cedis for 20 tablets… Blah blah blah constipation…” and carried on for about 15 minutes.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Yes, this man was selling 20 pills of some miracle drug on the bus for the equivalent of $1.50. And people were buying… how one pill can cure constipation, diarrhoea, hemorrhoids and an exhaustive list of other ailments… I do not know.

Finally, we made it to the right place to head out of the city.

Sigh of relief, right? Not so fast. The line had 75 people in it. So we waited amidst the car exhaust (diesel) and plastic bags blowing against our ankles in the wind until we were next to board the large tro tro to Kokrobite.

Finally we pile in and for 1 Ghana cedi (about $0.75) we start the 1.5 hour journey west.

It’s hot. We are taking back alleys to dodge traffic when possible. And we are crammed like sardines into a vehicle that probably was taken off the roads in some US city in the 70s.

Nevertheless, this is Africa and we are at least making our way out of town.

About an hour or two into our journey, our tro tro decides to pass the one moving slowly ahead of us. It should have been simple, but as the side of our tro tro smashes along the side of the smaller tro tro to our right… Kat nearly loses her arm that could have very well be out of the window. The painful screeching sound of metal-on-metal is followed closely by a popping and hissing as our tro tro grinds to a halt on the side of the road.

It’s now dark.

We pile out of the vehicle. We are ok, but clueless as to where exactly we are.

Across the street was a hotel. Suggesting we find out where we were… and eager to get away from a vehicle that may or may not explode… we headed over and befriended the security guard into calling us a taxi to our hotel.

As the tro tro we hit pulls up and a shouting match begins, I am not getting back into that tro tro.

Once the taxi arrives, we pay a few dollars and get door to door service.

Yay – we have made it to Big Milly. An infamous beach/Rasta hang out just in time for a West African dance troupe (see Cirque Du Soleil acrobats) cultural show. Dinner service was over, but they found us some fries and salad and we chowed down.

A few bottles of Star (local Ghanaian beer), some chatting with everyone around, we finally try to head to bed around 2am. Exhausted. But wait… we asked (and reconfirmed!!!) for 3 dorm beds and there are only 2? Ok, so in 30 degree C weather… Kat and I will share. Great.

Up again at 6… a walk on the beach shows it all to be worth it. The waves are big, the fishing boats are coming in… and boys are playing football (soccer) on the beach. A couple of the local dogs decide to keep us company, even though one’s limp is so bad she hobbles along on 3 feet.

We walk and walk. Enjoying the salty air and cool breeze before the sun comes up and the beach gets busy.

Which it does.

From fishermen bringing in the catch of the day – which you can buy and have cleaned for you on the spot – to curious children scampering about -  to other tourists/volunteers baking in the sun, to women selling beautiful printed simple beach dresses, to Rasta guys chilling, and even a Liberian refugee selling bags to support a school in the nearby refugee camp.

I lay out. Eat Eggplant Parm – Ghana style… spicy.

And enjoy the day…. And then Saturday night is Reggae night.

People start filing in from Accra, we eat pizza and chocolate cake from an authentic Italian restaurant… and chill in the open-air music venue to live Reggae.

It’s a chill environment. We meet friends who work mostly at Embassies in Accra – including American, Brazilian, etc – and other volunteers. We laugh. Joke about Ghana’s love for Celine Dion…. (weird, right? I thought it was only Beth Campbell!) and dance until the early morning.

Up again early and able to capture some great shots of the beach first thing in the morning.

Of course, followed by another day of good sun, good food, and good company.

Beach pictures will follow. I promise. I haven't used my camera nearly as much as I should be. But will upload as soon as possible. I promise, Dad. :)

A quick trip to the clinic!

I spent yesterday morning checking out the local medical facilities in my neighbourhood.

It looked as though Ellie, one of the recent volunteers to join us, had some bad bites on her foot. And... it is important to get stuff checked out here in Ghana early. Don't wait until you are in excruciating pain before you get help.

So, thought I would share a few pictures from our trip to the clinic.

We are both healthy - and happy. The rains have come in... VERY EARLY ... which brings increased malaria (see mosquitoes), cholera, and other water borne illnesses. So let's hope for another 4 months of good health.

(PS: Monday was my one month anniversary in Ghana!)

Rinat Clinic at American House, East Legon, Accra, Ghana

The clinic. We were seen within 10 minutes of walking in... no Toronto-style waiting room. But the to-be-expected soap opera was playing in the background.

As she pays 4 Ghana Cedis (about $3) to become a patient, Ellie gets her blood pressure checked by the nurse.

Round and round the tro tro goes... where it stops no one knows...!!!

This will be, sadly, a pictureless update.

Taking a picture on a Tro Tro would be

1. Invasive to the 20+ random strangers smushed into a beat-up van from the 90s
2. Impossible do to your sweaty hands - surrounded (on 2 sides!) by people makes every pore in your body sweat
3. An invitation to have your bag taken
4. A risk to your health - as many times... you need both hands to hold on.

Despite all of this... most days I spend upwards of 2+ hours of my day flying down dusty, Accra roads (when not stuck in bumper to bumper traffic jams) to the beat of a local preacher who has decided that he wants to share The Good News, deafening hiphop music, or the cell phone conversation of the driver who graciously holds my life in his hands as well as the many others filing in next to me.

But let me back up.

For those of you yet to experience Africa... or who have done so in a Lorry, suped up 4x4, private vehicle hire, or on the back of a motorcycle... I will explain.

Sigh.

A tro tro...

(or shared minibus as tro tro is merely the Ghanain word... but by no means the inventor of this mass transit system)

... is a converted van meant to maybe transport 6-7 people that now holds around 20. Operated by a driver and a Mate - who takes the payment and operates the door. He lets people on and off and you have to tell him where you are going to be able to calculate the fair. Lucky for me, fares are really affordable as this is as local as transport gets... minus walking.

How do you fit 20 people into a Ford van? While it is definitely 3-to-a-seat (as per school bus days) and then a fold down seat on the aisle so that people behind you can get on and off.

Yes, this means that if the person behind you wants off... and you are on the aisle (which oddly, I always am!) you have to wiggle your way out of the van and back on. And fast - time is money people!

How do you know where you are going? Great question. Instead of a flashing sign or specific route... each Tro Tro chooses where it wants to go. The Mate will make hand signals out of the window - and you flag the Tro Tro down by showing the signal you want... making a circle with your hand means to Circle, pointing down means Roundabout. These are two popular landmarks in Accra. Did I mention there are no recognizable street names? But you better know the junction (intersection) where you wish to deboard!

Don't ask me the difference between a Circle and a Roundabout. There isn't one.

So, piled in. You tell the Mate your destination - hand him between $0.50 and $0.75 and off we go!

When you see your stop, simply say "Mate, Bus stop." exit the vehicle with hopefully as many limbs as you entered... and you've survived the Tro Tro.

Easy right?

Yesterday proved not so much as on my way to work as I shimmied along to squish myself in between a few businessmen I ripped a hole in the "seat" of my skirt along the rusty, jagged window ledge. At least it was just my skirt... clothes don't need a tetanus shot.

So, what is a girl to do? Gettnig enough attention already... couldn't walk around with a rip in my "seat"... so just turned the skirt around... and off we went... dashing across 6 lanes of traffic, past the outdoor urinal (a ditch beside a busy highway), past the boxes of perfume for sale on the sidewalk, around several ladies with different wooden boxes of baked goods/eggs on their heads to sell.... and onto my next Tro Tro ride to work.

I survived. Stopped by a local fabric strore to enquire if they had a similar material to make myself another skirt. They didn't, but would go into the city and let me know a price for material on Thursday.

More skirts equals less laundry-by hand. Please don't judge. It's really hot and washing your clothes in a bucket is only fun for so long.

On the way home... another adventure. Instead of my Madina Tro Tro taking the normal route home... traffic was bad.... so it decided to take another route. OK... but what does that mean for me whose stop was skipped?

Well it means that my 45 minute commute turned into just less than 3 hours.

Made it to Madina, backtracked to a station I am familiar with... and then waited with about 200 other people to get home.

I could only laugh to myself as people risked their lives running alongside moving vehicles to get a spot on a Tro Tro. This is of course before they know if it is event their route!

A man just shook his head, asked me where I was going... and said, "This is our transit system."

Nevertheless, I refuse to fight and push people to get a spot... which meant I stood on the side of the road for about 40 minutes. I think Ghana might toughen this girl up! :)

Finally, a shared taxi arrived for American House. My route - and luckily a guy held a spot for me.

That of course translated into him trying to pay for me. And an attempt to get my phone number.

Hint: Gentlemen of the world - ask her name before you ask for her number.

But I made it home. Well after dark. Ready for a cold shower and bed.

I love Accra. Dusty, sweaty Tro Tros and all.

$26 can change 26 lives.

February 4th is/was my 26th birthday.

And I need you to donate $26 (or what you can afford to give) to support women and girls, and communities affected by HIV/AIDS.

It's easy. Just click here.

In turn, I will share the stories of 26 people I meet while working with Pro-Link in Ghana.

Women, children, and community members whose stories are waiting to be heard.

Why am I asking for your help?

Two reasons:

1. As part of my commitment to CCI, I am to raise awareness and funds to support organizations and projects, like Pro-Link. Your support will help me to reach my goal of $1000 before I leave Ghana on June 25th.
2. Last year, I created a list of "25 Things I wanted to do while I was 25"... and with just a few hours left, there are some things on the list I am still working towards. They were about "my story"... this year, I want to shape my story around the people I meet. And to share them with you.

Please consider making a donation.

In Canada, you will get a tax receipt. But everyone gets good karma.

Kari and Ji Young's last days at Pro-Link

Today we celebrated the accomplishments of Kari and Ji Young, who are wrapping up their 5 month mandates at Pro-Link.

Kari has shown me the ropes as I will be following her work in resource mobilization.

Ji young has been my guide to the city - showing me how to get around, where the good lunch spots are, and laughing alot.

They will be missed, but I anxiously await the three new volunteers who will arrive at the end of next week.

Does this mean I am to be their guide? Guess I better start studying!

Congratulations Kwame and Dzifa!

On Saturday, about one hundred people gathered around the garden at Becca Pools in East Legon, Accra, Ghana to celebrate the engagement of Kwame and Dzifa.

Our whole host family spent the week cleaning up the gardens around the house, getting new hair dos, and preparing for the big celebration.

White tents were set up. Round tables surrounded by chairs and topped with floral centerpieces surrounded the ceremony site. Balloons hung in the air and in the pool.

This engagement ceremony is also the traditional marriage – or joining of Kwame and Dzifa’s families.

The groom must bring gifts for the bride and her family. Some of these gifts include, but are not limited to:

-          Pieces of cloth

-          2 Bottles of Schnapps

-          A big suitcase

-          Underwear and brassieres

-          Assorted drinks – mineral/bottled water and soda

-          A bible

-          Slippers and matching bag

-          Jewelry

And a sewing machine or blender can also sometimes be added to the list.

This is in addition to the dowry that is to be paid for the bride. And since Dzifa is so stunning, I am sure Kwame handed over many, many Cedis.

All of these gifts and more are carried in on the heads of Kwame’s family. And Dzifa’s family receive them – including me, apparently, as I became part of the welcoming/receiving line.

A representative from Kwame’s family presents the gifts to Dzifa’s family as they sit across from each other under the white tent.

Kwame’s family is from the Ashanti region in Ghana and speak Twi. Dzifa’s family is from the Volta region and speak Ewe. The pastor made some really inspiring comments (lucky for me, in English!) about marriage as God’s will and we shouldn’t let differences – like tribe – or other divisions – stand in the way. He was much more eloquent and quite the story-teller. I’m sure more stories are to follow from my Sunday church adventures.

The clothing that each family wore represented their region. For example, some members of Kwame’s family wore Kente cloth, which is a type of silk and cotton interwoven fabric originating from the Akan people and known as the cloth of kings. It is royal and sacred – worn only during times of great importance.

Once the gifts were presented, it was time to welcome the bride and groom! Yes, the 45 minute ceremony that preceded was without the couple of honour!

Kwame’s family, featuring the HILARIOUS linguist at the forefront, danced and sang as he joined the ceremony. They greeted Dzifa’s family.

Dzifa’s family then danced and sang her into the tent – followed closely by her younger sister Yvonne. All smiles as Dzifa looked radiant in soft pink.

She asked her father for permission to marry the man she loves.

A bible and rings were exchanged all while SURROUNDED by paparazzi a.k.a. loving family members with cell phones and cameras.

Then we all received delicious drinks – mine a Passion Fruit Alvaro – simply amazing – and then a buffet style dinner was served.

Dinner was followed by dancing well into the afternoon and guests headed home as the sun set around 6pm.

The church wedding is set for a weeks from now and I am looking forward to attending this as well. I’m sure it will be another opportunity to learn about Ghanaian culture, experience an important tradition, and be part of this amazing family.

Better than any episode of Say yes to the dress.