A Piece of my heart

My time in Ghana is ending soon. I don’t feel ready to leave. There is so much I would still like to do around the office and so many new friends I don’t want to say good-bye to. Ghana and all the Global Mamas family have stolen a piece of my heart. I pray that I’ll be able to come back again someday not too far away in the future. It’s been sad telling people I’ll be leaving soon, and although I am flattered by their sentiments when they say they’re going to miss me, it just makes me sadder. I know my traveling spirit will continue to lead me to other places, and I sure wouldn’t mind if Ghana is one of them. If Global Mamas ever wanted me, I would seriously consider moving here for a couple of years. My heart is torn, but I know it's time for me to go spend time with my family in Nicaragua, after all, they only see me a couple of times a year.

            So this Monday will be my last day in the office, and I will get pictures with everyone and endure saying my goodbyes. Tuesday Angelina and I will take an STC bus to Accra. There, I will help Renae develop some floor plans for a new project which I will learn more about when I’m there. We’ll also visit a few places in Accra including a place called “Churchees” which apparently is a Ghanaian “Chuck E Cheese”.  Then Friday night at 10 pm my plane will take off. This weekend however we will eat Lobster Thermidor in Biriwa about 20 minutes outside of Cape Coast. Sunday night we are having a going away/early birthday party at Eli’s. She asked me what I wanted to eat and I said groundnut soup with grilled cheese because I don’t know if I will be able to successfully make her recipe once I get back to my kitchen. She said she was also going to make me a cake which if you know me, you know is perfect because you can’t have a birthday party without a cake. 

Workshop

Yesterday was a workshop day. Angelina and Jordan talked about Bookkeeping and Visual Merchandising, we had a snack break, and then I talked about the Elements & Principles of Design, and some Color Theory. Color printing is expensive so it wasn't feasible to print copies of the color wheel for everyone (or color copies of the entire presentation). So Tuesday night I began hand coloring a total of 54 color wheels, finishing the next morning with the help of Sarah and Angelina. You have to innovate when you lack certain tools, therefore we used three computers to display my presentation because we don't have a projector (donations are gladly accepted, wink wink!) The end of the presentation was about  six different color schemes and how they can use the color wheel to figure these out. So we had a hands on activity planned for them to practice. Once again, we had to be ingenious about how we would accomplish this. We looked through our batik fabric scraps and found the ones that represented the 12 colors in the wheel I gave them. We passed out scraps of every color and then worked with the women to separate them into the color schemes they had just learned about. Although it would've been better to have done the workshop with smaller groups to have a little more individualized attention, we still managed to help a lot of them and answer all their questions. The women that were most interested stayed longer to talk to me and make sure they got everything right. This was one of my favorite days during my entire time in Ghana, and reaffirmed the growing desire in my heart to work in women's ministry and maybe one day start an organization like Global Mamas with Nicaraguan women. 

A Long Weekend

Let me warn you, this is a long post. Sorry I was not able to write about this earlier, but like I said I had other priorities around the Global Mamas office. But now it is time for you to hear about last weekend. This is the story of our journey to Mole:

We left Cape Coast last Friday at about 10 am in a Tamale bound STC bus. STC buses are the “most costly” of public transportation (approximately $16 for the 12 hour ride), but they are the safest, most comfortable, and reliable as well.  Our first bathroom break was about 4 hours later in the city of Kumasi. Heather and I got down to use the toilet (they don’t say “bathroom” in Ghana) while Angelina watched our stuff inside the bus.  After finding the toilets, we had to come back to the bus to get money because we found out we have to pay to use the facilities. The sign said “Female Urinals 10 pesewas, Female Toilet 20 pesewas” so we only got enough money for the cheaper alternative, not thinking anything of it. We paid the man taking the money and walked into the “female urinals”. Right as we walked in, this lady was zipping up her pants. Heather and I looked around, then at each other and we burst out laughing… these were actual urinals! “I don’t know how I am suppose to use this” Heather said. I kept laughing, it was such a funny moment. I wouldn’t mind balancing myself on these urinals, but I did mind not having any privacy to do so as there were no doors (as the trip progressed, balancing over toilets or whatever was used as a toilet became a regular activity). We were 5 pesewas short for the actual toilets but the man was nice and let us use them anyway. Angelina wasn’t too surprised when we told her our experience because she saw female urinals in Italy as well.

            Our next stop was about 4 hours north of Kumasi in a station surrounded by food vendors. I was craving corn, but after failing to find any I settled for a hardboiled egg and a FanChoco (frozen chocolate milk in a bag). The three of us each packed a loaf of bread to snack on in case we didn’t have access to other food. Four hours later, at around 10:30pm, we finally arrived in Tamale. We didn’t have hotel reservations (there was a confusion about what city we were spending the night in but it’s not relevant to get into it) but knew of several places from our travel guide and the numerous travel blogs I read earlier that week. We had a great taxi driver who took us to 3 places until finally the 4^th one we visited had room for us. I think it was called Nadum Lodge and we checked in at 11pm into a quaint double room. We would only be there for a few hours because we had to catch a 5am bus to Larabanga, but we were happy to have a place to lay down, even if that meant the three of us had to share Full size bed. We got up at 4 am and waited for our taxi man (same from the night before who agreed to come get us in the morning) to pick us up. It was at these early hours of the morning that I heard my first Muslim call to prayer. The northern region of Ghana has a higher Muslim population and this was my first experience hearing and seeing some of these traditions. The mosques have speakerphones on their roofs from which the prayers are being said or sung for everyone to hear.

            The Metro Mass Transit Bus left Tamale at 5 am. Three hours and many bumpy roads later, it dropped us off in the village of Larabanga. This is a very small village, but tourists go through here everyday because the junction to the Mole National Park sits at its core. It took us 2 seconds to find the Salias Brother’s Guesthouse, where we would be spending the night. This very humble guesthouse has a handful of rooms where visitors to the park can rest their heads for the night at a more affordable price than the Mole Motel (which isn’t that much “fancier” anyway, but is conveniently located inside the park). Using the bathroom in this place is a … how do you say?... interesting and different experience. The toilet consists of a small dark room with a hole on the ground, not raised up or latrine looking, just a good old-fashioned hole on the ground.

            We were told by our hosts in Larabanga that the Mole Park was six kilometers away, and seeing as though there are few cars in town we could also catch a ride in motorcycles. It was a lovely morning and we decided to walk. Six kilometers later we finally reached the information center where we inquired about a guided tour of the park. They weren’t offering the walking tours during the time we were there, so we settled for the more expensive tour in a jeep (which turned out to be a great alternative because we got to see more this way!) I had read online about eating at the staff canteen instead of Mole Motel’s actual restaurant, apparently the staff’s food was better. So before starting our jeep drive we ordered our beans, rice, and beef.  “Wait, I will get my weapon” said James, our guide, as we walked to the jeep. He gave an introduction which he concluded by saying “and at the end maybe you will give your guide a tip”. I joked around and told him that if he found us some elephants he would definitely get a great tip.

            About five or ten minutes into our drive James directed the driver around the staff quarters (where all the Mole National Park staff and their families live) where he found 3 male elephants. In the next two hours we would find elephants in two other occasions, the last being a group of them in the waterhole and seeing one of them dive into the water. We saw other animals: antelopes, bushbuck, waterbucks, warthogs, baboons, other monkeys, and some big bird whose name we don’t know. James and our driver were awesome so they definitely got a big tip. 

We had our lunch at the staff canteen. Unfortunately, we weren’t interrupted or had our food stolen by baboons that constantly hang around the area (and the reason why the staff carry slingshots with them). I wanted a fun story about a baboon eating my food but oh well. So after about 4 hours in Mole, we were done. Those short hours were the reason for the long trip (well plus the adventure of the journey). We began walking back to the village, but managed to hitch a ride soon after. Back in Larabanga, there wasn’t very much to do. We walked around a little bit, and I found a vendor who sold me playing cards. Atum, a guy that works for the guesthouse, hung out with us and taught us how to play a Ghanaian card game called Spar.

            We found a “spot” to grab some dinner (after walking around and having some guys shout over to us “Come, come, we have food here you can order”). This big group of guys moved a plastic table towards us and gave us three chairs. They then gathered around us and started asking us about the U.S. We tried answering all their questions but they were surprised that we hadn’t been to a 50 Cent concert. Before going to sleep we chilled on the roof of the guesthouse with two other guests, two female graduate students doing research in Kumasi. One was from Butan, the other from China, and they attend a University in The Netherlands. We exchanged many stories. At one point we were laughing about some of the toilet facilities we have encountered and they told us about a colleague who is doing his research on sanitation in Ghana, and how he told them about “the flying toilet”. “The flying toilet” is when a person does their #2 business, picks it up with a plastic bag, and then twists that bag repeatedly until they sling it as far away as they can. 

Salia Brother's Guesthouse in Larabanga

                                       The stairs leading up to the roof

                     The village of Larabanga as seen from the roof of the guesthouse

                                         The sun setting over Larabanga

            We got up at 4 on Sunday morning and waited for our Tamale bound bus to arrive. After cramming a lot of people in, we set off on our 3 hour bumpy ride. Back in Tamale we found out that the next STC bus to Cape Coast wasn’t leaving until Tuesday. So we considered all our options, including taking tro-tros back, which would mean we would have to spend the night in Kumasi before getting to Cape Coast. So we decided to take the overnight bus leaving at 4 that afternoon to Accra (a little east out of our way). Once arriving in Accra at 4am Monday morning, we could take the next Cape Coast bound bus, which leave every hour and is only a three-hour journey from the capital. We would be arriving in Cape Coast early Monday morning and could rest all day in the comfort of our beds. We bought our tickets to Accra and then had about 7 hours to kill before our departure time. We looked in our guidebook for where to eat in Tamale. Being a Sunday we risked many places being closed, and indeed the first we went to was. But then we agreed on trying out a Chinese restaurant on top of the Las Hotel. Our taxi dropped us off there at 9:30am, the  restaurant sign said they opened at 10:30. So we sat on the floor and waited. Eventually, around 11, they opened the restaurant and welcomed us. Then we had to wait for the cook. We were hungry, looking forward to the food, and had nowhere else to go so we waited. It was worth the wait. The fried won-tons (my favorite!) were awesome! So were my noodles and shrimp. Good things come to those who wait.

            The rest of our trip consisted of sitting in the back of a bus. At one point, when we stopped around 10 pm in an STC station for a toilet break, we all walked out to find that our bus wasn’t there anymore. I worried for a few seconds, because I had left my backpack inside, but then I simply told myself there was no use in drawing conclusions about the situation. Surely, the driver went to go get gas or have the bus checked out in their garage. Eventually, our bus came back and we were off. Once in Accra, we didn’t have to wait long to catch the next bus to Cape Coast. That last bus was different from the other ones. We were stuck in the back again but this bus had wide comfortable seats that reclined back. Because of this (and the fact we were exhausted) we passed out during the entire ride back to Cape Coast. It was probably a bit before 8 when we made it to the house, much to Wallace’s surprise. After he heard we spent the night riding in a bus and saw our worn out faces he encouraged us to sleep all day. Before I could sleep though I needed a good shower, after all I hadn’t showered in three and a half days. I undid my cornrows, which took a while because after that long and dusty trip my head felt very dirty. After I was finally clean, I took a long nap. 

 After 33 hours in a total of 5 buses, no showering, and undoing my cornrows... lovely :)

Crazy weekend = long post

I will be writing about our crazy weekend trip to Mole soon. For now I have to prioritize putting together a Design and Color Theory workshop to be given to a big group of batikers and seamstresses tomorrow morning.


For now, here is a cliffhanger photo:

Cornrows

Hairdressers and salons are as ubiquitous in Ghana, as Starbucks’ are in the U.S.. I mentioned how I had gotten my hair half braided at a place by our house. I wasn’t very happy with the quality and came to find out from my sister, Gifty, that I paid too much for half my head. Apparently, to get your entire head braided it should cost 4 Ghana Cedis (about $2.8). I paid 3 Ghana Cedis (about $2.1). True, I technically got ripped off, but those of us who often get our hair done know that you will never pay either of those prices in our continent. Besides, with all the competition around, it is hard for them to get clients to begin with.

            Angelina and I have met many people along the Bacano junction area, which we walk to and from work everyday. I will tell you more about the many characters we have come to be friends with in another post. But today, I will tell you about the women in the El-Shaddai beauty salon. We stand in front of this establishment every day to catch our cab back home, so we greet the women everyday. Monday, they saw that my hair was braided.

“Who did it for you?” asked the owner.

“Oh, my sister did” I said, but I already had the intention of giving her some business. “I would like get cornrows though, how much would you do it for? My sister said that the whole head should be 4 GhC”.

“Yes, 4 is good. I will do it for you” she smiled.

            So yesterday I left work an hour early and walked over to El-Shaddai to get my cornrows. Angelina doesn’t like to see people in pain so she was going to meet up with me about one hour later. “I am ready to cry” I told them. They said it wouldn’t hurt, but I knew they were lying. So there I was, sitting on a plastic chair surrounded by four women. The younger ones are apprentices and still learning so they contributed by holding my hair, passing the rubber bands, and staring at me. The boss, Joanna, showed them how it was done; combing, twisting, pulling, and tightly braiding away. Most of the time I kept my eyes closed to hold back any sign of pain. My eyes water very easily when you pull or hit the right spot, and although I wasn’t “tearing up” as much as I do when having my eyebrows waxed, it sure was more painful. I used to think the right side of my scalp was more sensitive, until I found out that it’s actually the left. I still sucked it up and refused to show signs of pain… well, except towards the end. Boy, was I glad when it was over. I was either going to look ghetto fabulous or pull it off nicely like Alicia Keys. Regardless of which one, I don’t have to worry about my hair this weekend as we backpack to the northern region. And also, my scalp is enjoying a pleasant breeze.

            Angelina timed herself perfectly and made her way over to El-Shaddai on time to say hello and offer to take a picture. I wanted a picture with everyone so one of the girls told us to wait and walked off to comb her hair. Joanna told me to tell the other girls in my workplace to come see her to get their hair done. So if you ever find yourself in Cape Coast, Ghana you should hop on over to El-Shaddai in Bacano and visit our friends.

Relaxing Weekend

The weekend consisted of no trips outside of town. Saturday morning I walked over to the small salon by the junction we walk to and from every day. I got half my head braided (well more like ¼). Angelina caught up with me at the salon and then we headed over to town to meet up with Esther in her shop. Our taxi driver ended up around the market area, which was not at all were we told him to go. I recognized were we were so we just got off there and walked along past the shops, keeping our eyes open for Ghana jerseys. Apparently, after visiting and asking in many shops, there are no more Ghana jerseys and they won’t be getting any more. We walked to our favorite egg sandwich spot and hungrily watched as the lady buttered up all sides of thick slices of bread that would then be pressed down and completed with Laughing Cow cheese (the only cheese we’ve seen in Ghana) and a fried egg. Mmmm… complete deliciousness.

            Eventually we made it to Esther’s shop. We spent most of the afternoon there, hanging out with her and her two workers as they fixed a couple of dresses for us (another seamstress had made them for us and she unfortunately did not do a great job). We had a good time, talking, laughing, eating corn, and entertaining one of her workers’ daughters, Sophia (pronounced Sof-eye-a).

Haha, my favorite picture so far :)

Sophia, quite a handful.

       The rest of Saturday night and all of Sunday we stayed in. Angelina wasn’t feeling very well, as though her body was fighting back an incoming cold, so she needed to rest up. It was great to just stay home and relax. I slept in and then read for the rest of the morning. After lunch, I sat down with Wallace and his laptop in the dining room to answer a lot of questions he had about the internet, software, programs, his printer, etc… He was surprised at my patience to sit with him for over 3 hours and was grateful for helping him out. He has internet connectivity through a USB drive, and although it is a slower connection we managed to do a lot with it. Our next lesson is how to use his scanner (he has a printer/scanner) to scan family photos and put them on his computer. We tried downloading Skype, but the internet connection was too slow, so he’ll have to go to an internet café to download it so I can teach him to use that as well. Kristin, co-founder of Global Mamas now living in Minnesota, lived with the Kwaws while she was in the Peace Corps in Ghana. The Kwaws love her dearly and consider her their daughter, so I told Wallace about Skype and he is excited to try it out.

            The laid back weekend is what we needed to rest up for the following weekend. We are going to travel north to Mole. The journey will take a day and a half and we will end up in the savanna. Apparently baboons and other animals frequently visit the hotel where we will be staying. It will truly be one of the biggest adventures I have embarked on, and the journey to our destination and finding where to sleep will be adventure enough in itself. 

Drums, Dance, and Fire

Friday night, in honor of Sarah’s birthday, all the volunteers went to this hotel at the beach in Elmina called “Stumble Inn”. Angelina and I knew that this place was going to be a good distance away from the Kwaw’s home, but we decided to join the group because there would be dinner followed by a performance with drumming, dancing, and fire eating. It sounded too good for us to miss it, but we were determined (and at times worried) to get back to our house at a decent hour. We made it to Stumble Inn at dusk, it is a quaint little place founded by people involved in a british NGO. The inn has sleeping quarters, washrooms, a kitchen and bar, and a dining hall, each separated into individual buildings. The cab driver we called to transport all of us to the inn had to make three trips to get us all there. While we waited for everyone to show up so we could eat, we played games in the dining hall while the already weak light bulbs fluttered and all together left us in the dark multiple times. Dinner, as we had been foretold, was sweet and sour chicken. The chicken was barely there, it was more like sweet and sour vegetables and a mountain of rice.

            For some time after dinner it seemed like there wasn’t going to be a show and Angelina and I thought maybe it hadn’t been worth making the trip out there. We worried about getting back to the house. Luckily, a group of the other girls had told the cab driver to pick them up at 9pm so we would just hop on that ride back to Elmina. We would then need another cab from Elmina to the Kwaw’s house. We called Peter, a cab driver the volunteers know and call regularly whose car was broken down but had called his friend to take our big group out to the beach. We asked him if he had friend who could take us to Polycam from Elmina around 9:30pm. Although eventually we got lost in translation, it seemed we would have a ride after all. Luckily, there turned out to be a show after all! The performers, a talented group of 5 guys, entertained us with drumming, singing, dancing, acrobatics, funny facial expressions, and yes, fire eating. We even got to do some dancing with them and boy was it a workout, no wonder they’re so buff! The trip out to the beach had been worth it after all.

            After cramming 7 of us into the taxi back to the volunteer house in Elmina, Angelina and I realized that there was no other cab coming for the two of us, there had definitely been miscommunication. It was getting late, but we knew the other taxi guy only had to do one more trip out to the beach and back, and so we decided to simply wait for his return and ask him to take us home. He charged us 3 Cedis more than we usually pay for a “drop in” taxi, but considering it was past 10pm and we just wanted to get home, we knew it was fair. We had called Wallace earlier telling him we were doing our best to get home between 10 and 10:30pm, we didn’t want to disrespect their hospitality. He told us that if he was asleep when we arrived to simply give him a ring and he would let us in, however we would be embarrassed if this had to happen. We arrived at 10:45pm and Wallace was still awake, as he usually is, watching some last minute sports action before hitting the hay. He wasn’t mad at us, instead he asked about our night and was glad we had enjoyed ourselves. 

Calvary Charismatic Center

Last Sunday I was finally able to go to church for the first time in Ghana. One of the earliest Global Mamas, Esther, invited Angelina and I to visit her church, Calvary Charismatic Center or CCC. It was an early service, 7 am. We met up with Esther in town (which meant we left the house at 6:15am) and rode a taxi together to church. We arrived promptly at 7 but there weren’t many people there already. Esther was excited and happy to show us around the church campus, and we were happy to check it out. The CCC temple is very beautiful, the meticulously manicured garden standing out in my memory. We took our seats as the “open prayer” time was already in progress. The man leading the prayer was pacing back and forth in front of the congregation while speaking in Fante. After quite some time the praise and worship time began. Those of you who know me know that I enjoy singing, consequently, when I sing I feel closer to the Lord. Of course I enjoyed their high spirited, rhythmic, and dance inspiring worship style. There were about three songs we sang that I was familiar with but had definitely never heard them played and sung this way before. It was great! As usual, I simply closed my eyes and concentrated on the words and notes I was singing. At times, I opened my eyes and saw men and women jumping up and down, raising their hands, dancing, kneeling, and even laying on the floor. I think we sang for longer than half an hour. Being the supporter of more music during service, I enjoyed it very much!

            Before the message, the head pastor invited those who brought “souls” with them to come to the front with them. Esther warmly held our hands and walked us to the front. Here the pastor encouraged us to trust in the Lord and accept Jesus into our hearts, and he also commended the church members who were out there spreading the Good News. I stood there quietly, telling God “well… you know I accepted your Son as my Savior when I was 14 and have been following Him ever since. They may think I’m a lost soul, but You know my soul found its place almost ten years ago. It’s ok. I’ll just stand here”. I thought it was a beautiful gesture to pray for those visiting their church and I prayed along with them. The message was out of Isaiah 45:1-3. It was a great reminder of a few of God’s many promises He has given to those who seek and follow Him. Apart from the occasional yelling from the preacher, of which I’m not accustomed to, I really enjoyed the message. Before the service was over, those of us who were visiting for the first time were asked to gather in the conference room where we would be given refreshments and some info about the church. Angelina and I politely followed the crowd. By this point, it was well after 11am and we were hungry. We sat there as they talked to us some more about their church family and asked us to fill out a small form if we wanted to receive info. We didn’t fill ours out because we were just visiting, but I liked how welcoming they were and was happy to see new people interested in joining the family.     

We thanked Esther for inviting us and finding us a ride to Elmina. We were so hungry and walked quickly towards the Elmina Beach Resort. Distracted by the idea of eating yummy food, we walked past a small group of people. A lady in the group caught us off guard “Excuse me, why did you not greet us?” The one time we didn’t say hello to passing strangers.

“Oh we’re so sorry. We are very hungry,” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Where are you from?” She asked. Angelina said the U.S. and I said Nicaragua.

“Paraguay?” the lady asked. “No, Ni-ca-ra-gu-a” I enunciated.

“Why do all your people’s countries have ‘gua’ in them?” She asked very passionately, and almost as though offended. I was surprised by the question.

“I… don’t know. They were the names given by the native Indians,” I said. Well, at least this was true about Nicaragua, I don’t know about Paraguay. She was satisfied with my answer and let us go on our way.

Finally, we made it to the hotel. Our food was delicious, our bellies were full and happy.  I looked forward to one of my favorite parts of Sundays growing up, the nap that followed church and a big lunch.

Laundry

No washing machine my friends. Just a good old-fashioned bucket with detergent. There isn’t a lavandero (concrete sink and small tub to wash clothes) like there is back home. Instead I wash my garments by hand in our bathroom tub. I taught Angelina how to do this, not that she couldn’t have figured it out herself. I definitely don’t think I do a great job in this task, but by the end my clothes are somewhat cleaner (and my back hurting). Then, we go hang our clothes to dry on the clothesline outside the house. If it doesn’t rain, then they should be dry in about a day. 

No mas Mundial

The World Cup is over. Spain won their first Mundial. Congratulations Spain, although I feel bad for The Netherlands and I do believe that referee was very biased in a lot of his decision making. Nevertheless, it is over and Angelina and I are sad there is no more football to be watched. Now we will probably watch tennis and movies. In the market they sell DVDs with several movies in the same genre included. I bought one DVD with 10 movies in the disk. Of course these are pirated movies so occasionally the quality isn’t that good, but on the other hand sometimes the quality is surprising. Still, 10 or more movies for 5 Ghana Cedis (approximately $3), is still pretty good. So far the two movies we’ve seen were pretty good quality.

Without football, the nights in which we don’t travel will consist of more reading, pirated movies, and yoga.

Bonaventure

Angelina and I have interacted with many taxi drivers throughout the weeks we’ve been here. But with Bonaventure, we had one of the most amusing conversations. He started out with the regular questions “What is your name? Where are you from? How long are you in Ghana?”. He then proceeded to offer his phone number for us to call if we ever need a ride or “drop-in”. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, we already had another taxi driver’s phone number. By the way he was looking at me we knew where the conversation was going, especially after he asked “how old are you?”

“24” I said (my birthday in August is close enough). “Really? I am 25!” he replied with a smile.

“How old do people in your country have to be to get married?” Bonaventure asked. With all the marriage proposals we’ve had, we knew where he was going with this.

We told him legally anytime after you are 18 years old. Angelina and I were on the same brainwave. She stepped in and said “I got married when I was 23. How old were you Brenda?”

“Well, it was a year ago so I was 23 also” I replied.

It took Bonaventure a short time to realize we said we were married. He asked to see our wedding rings. We showed him our bands. He was incredulous and smiled a lot. Eventually he believed us and then he asked for our advice.

“If I want to marry a white woman, what should I do?” he asked.

“Well,” I started “a white woman will not marry a stranger so you need to be friends with her first. You need to talk and get to know each other well. Maybe after 2 years you can think about getting married”. Bonaventure listened intently, smiling.

“You need to take her out to dinner and you have to pay for the dinner” Angelina added. Bonaventure of course wasn’t liking our advice, it meant too much trouble. He wanted a white woman fast.

“But if I want a white woman, where should I go?” he asked. We didn’t really know how to answer this question, but we tried our best, reminding him he needs to be friends with a woman first.

He eventually stopped asking us questions, but he never lost his smile. However, his car did lose the ability to get into gear. Luckily, it was only a short walk to where we were going to get off anyway. “Ndaase” we thanked him, and walked to Eli’s.

The next day after walking out of the Elmina Beach Resort to find a taxi to take us home we encountered Bonaventure once again, his car working well.

“Do you remember me?” he asked with his signature smile. “Where are you going?”

We told him we needed to get to Abura, and after he offered us what we knew was a good price we got into his taxi once again. He didn’t ask many questions this time around as we shared the taxi with many other people on our way back to Cape Coast.

Kakum

Saturday morning Angelina and I found a tro-tro on its way to Praso to drop us off by the entrance of Kakum National Park. We were supposed to meet other Global Mamas volunteers there, but we were about half an hour late. In the tro-tro, on the way, we met Lea, a recent college graduate from South Carolina. Her dad is Ghanaian and she was spending the summer with her Ghanaian family. We got to know her and her two cousins, who were in Cape Coast just for the day. After Kakum, they were going back to their home east of Accra. Lea was bummed we hadn’t met earlier, but we were all happy to make new friends.

Kakum National Park is a large protected rainforest area in Southwestern Ghana. Once again another place that felt so familiar. Nicaraguans, going to Kakum is like going to Mombacho except Kakum is not as high up as Mombacho, and there isn’t a volcano. Another difference is that Kakum has elephants, unfortunately they live deep in the forest so you can’t see them. Kakum’s main attraction is its canopy walk. It is one of four places in the world that have these canopy walks (the others being in Peru, China, and Malaysia). They consist of suspended bridges spanning between several trees inside the forest, so you are literally walking among the canopy of the trees. Our young guide, Samuel, very eloquently encouraged us not to be afraid of the bridges. He told us the bridges were built some 16 years ago by a group of Canadians and Ghanaians and are visited each year by many people, and no one has ever fallen.  We weren’t going to be the first ones to fall he said and although I thought “he doesn’t know that”, I wasn’t scared. Zip lining in Mombacho’s canopy tour had prepared me for this.

        After surviving the canopy walk, five of us stayed behind to continue with a ground walk along the forest with Samuel, our guide. He led us through the forest, stopping to tell us about the important trees and plants in it, and their significance and functionality for the Ghanaian people as well as the animals in the forest. Angelina asked me to note that we stepped on an anthill and although we both got bitten, she literally had ants in her pants. After our walks through Kakum, we found a tro to take us back to Cape Coast. There, we found a taxi to take us to Elmina (at a good price of course) where Eli was waiting for us with groundnut soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Our taxi driver, Bonaventure…. Well, he deserves a blog post all to himself.

There are 7 of these suspended bridges

Obruni... continued

     After being in Ghana one month, meeting and talking to many people, and knowing my way around Cape Coast, I have recovered new information regarding a previous post I made. If you have been keeping up with this blog then you recall when I talked about the word obruni. If you haven’t been keeping up with this blog (shame on you), do not worry, I will catch you up. Obruni is Fante for “white person”. In a previous post, many weeks ago, I talked about how the other volunteers and I are constantly hearing the word called out to us wherever we go, mainly from children. They say “Obruni!” we turn around and smile and they continue with an enthusiastic “How are you? I’m fine, thank you”.

For the first time in my life I am considered a white person. At first I thought that maybe they didn’t know what to think about me because I’m not white. But after conversations with my Ghanaian friends and reading on the subject, I have come to find that I am in fact considered an obruni to Ghanaian eyes. I explained to our co-worker George how this is strange to me because in my continent I am not considered a white person, I am a Latina, we have “brown” skin. I went on to further explain the whole being Latin American thing to him. He thought it was interesting. In Africa, anyone who is not Black, is considered white. “Does it bother you to be called white?” George asked me.

“No” I said, “I understand why I am called that, but it is just weird for me because I am not white”.

      It’s not a big deal, I have accepted and gotten used to the nickname from strangers, but whenever I get the chance to engage in a race conversation I like to tell the Ghanaians about Latin Americans. Of all the people we’ve met there has only been one woman who, after asking where I was from, has said “Oh no, you are not Obruni. I studied Geography, you are close to Mexico right?” Happily I answered yes. “You dance salsa?” she asked me. Even more happily I replied “Yes!” To which she remarked again “I studied geography, you are Latina”.

Yes, yes I am.

African Headwraps

During our lunch break yesterday, Dorcas taught Angelina and I how to wrap our heads/hair. We also filmed the lesson, but due to poor internet connection I can't upload it. For now, these pictures will have to suffice.

Axim Beach

Angelina and I had to leave the house bright and early at 6:15am so we could meet up with the other girls by 7am. We all walked west from the Elmina junction to find a tro-tro that would take us to Takoradi. Tro-tros are the cheapest means of transportation in Ghana, they are old minivans that pack up at least 12 passengers. I was looking forward to my first tro-tro experiences (by the end of this trip we rode a total of 4 tro-tros). The ride to Takoradi was about an hour and a half. The scenery was all too familiar to me, just like riding south on the Pan-American highway towards Rivas, going through small poor towns along the way. The exceptions were the lack of Spanish influence being replaced by uncountable amounts of little shacks with tin roofs next to each other for what looked like miles at a time. The rest of the scenery was of lush green vegetation, seeing as the rainy season is drawing to a close. When we reached the Takoradi tro-tro station, we looked for the next one that would take us to Axim. We bought our tickets but sat down to wait for the next one, since it looked like all 6 of us couldn’t fit in the one ready to leave. The tro-tro driver and other workers at the station were telling us to get in. The other girls kept saying we would wait since we couldn’t all fit. After the men kept insisting, I got up and walked over to the tro-tro thinking “If other people have to cram into these things when necessary than we could suck it up and go for it”. The other girls seemed to follow me and when I was inside walking towards the seat available in the back they asked me if there were enough seats for all of us. I counted 4 seats. There were 6 of us. I said “Yes, but it’ll be a little tight”. And just like Jesus fed 5,000 people with just five loaves of bread and two small fish, He gave us all a seat inside that tro-tro.

            The ride from Takoradi to Axim was about an hour. We saw the sign for the Axim Beach Hotel and asked to be dropped off at that junction. Once out of the tight tro-tro, Dino, a friend I made during the ride, (who surprisingly had the same name as my dad, brother and nephew) told us that the walk to the Axim Hotel wouldn’t be far and that we didn’t have to take a taxi. So we thanked him, and followed the signs to our destination. It was a longer walk than expected, and a very hot mid-morning. We were relieved to finally make it to our hotel, and immediately could tell that the journey was worth it. We got one of the cutest little rooms I have ever been in. The budget rooms we requested were reached by climbing narrow wooden stairs and reaching a loft style second story. We had lunch at the Turtle Restaurant overlooking the beach. It was weird because I felt like I was in Nicaragua. The scenery, the water, the trees, the breeze, everything so strangely familiar, and yet I was in Africa. This is why I feel so close to the people here, because it is so familiar. The most obvious differences being the color of our skins, and the language.

            Axim Beach Hotel is highly recommended. The quality is similar to the nice hotels in the San Juan del Sur area back home, and yet significantly more affordable. It was nice to relax by the sea, eat different food, and watch football matches on a big screen. Unfortunately, much to my disappointment, I had to see Argentina and Paraguay go home, leaving Uruguay as the only Latin American team I can support, even though they left a bad taste in my mouth after beating Ghana in the nail biting match on Friday… I can’t even talk about it, I’m still sad.

Another highlight of our time in Axim Beach was running water. Angelina and I have been taking bucket showers for over a week, so it was nice to take real showers with real showerheads too. We take so many things for granted when they’re readily available to us, and although we don’t mind the bucket showers and can deal with the lack of running water, we also didn’t mind the opportunity for a real shower.

            After much relaxing, reading, and eating, it was time to go back to Cape Coast. This time we rode a taxi to the nearest tro-tro station to catch our ride to Takoradi. We all bought our tickets and sat in the tro-tro. But you see, the tro-tros don’t leave the station unless every seat has been bought out. We sat in the tro for what seemed like an hour (but was probably more like 45 minutes), until we decided to buy out that last seat. The other Ghanaian passengers were getting frustrated with the long wait so they we were all happy when we were finally on our way. The driver was going very fast and the trip to Takoradi was like a pseudo rollercoaster ride, with all sorts of bumps and dips along the way, while trying to hold on to my book and whatever sentence I was reading. However, the breeze coming through the windows was very refreshing.

            After one more tro-tro to Elmina and a taxi to the Kwaw’s, Angelina and I finally made it home. “Tomorrow we will have running water again” Wallace announced to us, “We are going back to living in the 21^st century!” It was a nice weekend, we were tired but glad to be back home.

Office Work

Weekdays consist of going to the office from 8am to 5pm. I get up around 6:30am, get ready, have some breakfast and walk out the door. Angelina and I walk down the dirt road from the house to the main street, about a 10 minute walk. Then we stand and wave down a shared taxi to take us to Aquario. If a cab driver attempts to give us an "obruni" price, we simply say we'll wait for another taxi. At this point the cab driver realizes we know where we are going and how much it should cost. He usually smiles and says "ok come in"after he agrees with the price it should be. After about a 15 to 20 minute drive we are dropped off at Aquario where we then need to get another taxi to take us to Bacano. Bacano is a shorter drive. We get down from the taxi, mustering our "Ndaase (Thank you)" to all inside, much to their amusement. From here we walk a little over 5 minutes to the Global Mamas office.

The work I do varies constantly. Most of it involves working on my computer, whether it is working on new designs, playing with patterns on photoshop, making Illustrator files of old designs, or powerpoint and excel presentations. My favorite part of the job is going to the women's workspaces/shops and working through new designs with them. At the end of each day, Angelina and I make the journey back to the Kwaw's house, about a 30 minute adventure. We have been practicing our Fante with the many people we cross paths with or make friends with along the way.

This weekend we are going to Axim Beach. Angelina and I are going to leave the house bright and early Saturday morning to meet up with other girls at the junction where we'll catch our bus. It is about a 2 hour drive. Once there we will relax and enjoy. I am looking forward to it.