My Summer in Ghana: August 2013

I will be leaving Ghana tomorrow but I’m sure that Ghana will not be leaving me, literally and figuratively. I believe that I will be scrubbing ingrained red dust out of my pores for months. I am not really sure which is tan and which is stain! But more than that, Ghana has entered my heart and soul. I love it here and have had experiences and adventures that have influenced me profoundly.

This is where I've spent the summer.

This will be my last post from Ghana. It contains a few “leftovers”; random thoughts, observations, opinions, and photographs that I have collected during my stay. I truly wish I were a better descriptive writer so that I could share the sights, sounds, smells, and taste of Ghana with you and make you feel you were here.

I guess you’ll just have to come to Africa and experience it yourself!!

Dead frog; because I like the picture and needed some filler!!

The incessant honking of horns (which are on the turn signal to keep them convenient) is something I will not miss. The honk of a horn can mean just about anything from “hello” to “I’m here” to “I cutting in” but honking rarely seems to be done in anger. On a half hour Tro-Tro ride it is not uncommon for the driver to honk at least 30 times. And every other driver on the road is doing the same.

It is also amazing how quickly the tantalizing smell of roasting corn and sweet potatoes can turn into the stench of burning plastic or the indescribable smell of an open sewer being “cleaned”. I did not know that a person could literally “sip” air for such long periods of time without passing out.

I’ve stated in most of my posts that I am writing from observation, experience, and opinion and my musing should not be mistaken for actual fact. On my trek to work the other day I had a “moment of clarity” and realized that I really don’t know that much about Ghana. My experience of Ghana consists of a, roughly, seven mile stretch of the country supplemented by a few short side trips. That would be like living in Creswell and working in South Eugene for two months, taking day trips to Portland, Florence, and Bend and assuming I can make generalizations about “Oregonians” based on my experience. What about the folk from Ashland, Pendleton, Astoria, French Glen, Lakeview, hell, even U of O campus, and all the other quirky little outposts of humanity we have in Oregon?

Abdu, who asked me to marry him almost everyday!

In short, what I know (or assume I know) about Ghana is very limited. I’ve heard they have crocodile and elephants in the Northern Region, that it is much less densely populated, and they even have jungle and desert up there!?!??!? My slice of Ghana is actually rather small.

No explanation needed!!

I do have to say that public urination is quite common, especially for men – although I do see the occasional woman squatting (including myself!). This may have something to do with the lack of public toilets. This has been one of the very few times in my life when I’ve actually experienced “penis envy” – although not as Freud suggested. I would wager a guess, based on the “flow” I’ve witnessed, that prostate problems may not yet be prevalent in Ghana.

Interesting sign endorsing the use of condoms.

Which leads me to another idea that I’ve formulated while here. I have heard the story, told, independently by several men, that they do not wear condoms because the ones sold in Ghana are manufactured in China. Since Chinese men are “far smaller” than Ghanaian men the condoms are too small. Therefore, unsafe sex practiced in Ghana is not the fault of the men here; it’s the fault of the Chinese. This smacks of Urban Legend to me. Especially since I’ve seen several Ghanaian men, even some of those telling the story, who are very slight in stature – which really has no bearing on the size of the equipment!! I swear men anywhere and everywhere will come up with some excuse not to wear a condom. Since HIV/AIDS is becoming a major problem in Ghana I believe some reeducation needs to happen.

The last thought segues to an entirely different topic. I walk by a seamstress’s shop every day to and from work. I finally got the nerve up to ask her if she would make me a couple of dresses. She agreed and got down to the business of measuring me which I’ve never had done before and frankly, after seeing the numbers, never want to have done again. She made me two beautiful, handmade, fitted dresses. They are beautiful. They fit like, well, the aforementioned condoms. They fit very snugly, and not in a cozy sort of way. I prefer my dresses a bit looser but these dresses are done the Ghanaian way.

Peace, the seamstress who made my dresses.

Women dress very conservatively and yet provocatively. They are often covered from head to toe yet every curve is accentuated. If a woman is not wearing “obroni wawu” (mentioned in an earlier posting) then she is usually dressed in a form-fitting, handmade (often by her own hands), colorful, leaving nothing to the imagination way. Women, in general, do not seem to have the same issues with body image that many of us in the United States do. Big or small, women seem more content with their bodies and are happy to show them off. And they look absolutely beautiful. I, however, am not so comfortable showing my body in that way and, unfortunately (unless I lose 20 pounds), will not be wearing my beautiful African dresses.

Which leads me to hair. Most men wear their hair very close to the scalp or shave their heads, although you will find the occasional dreadlock wearing “Rasta Man”.

Men's "Barbering" sign

Women, on the other hand, often sport elaborate hair styles. As I started paying closer attention to hair styles I noticed that these elaborate styles are often not their own hair. Extensions, weaves, braids, and wigs are very common.

Women's beauty shop sign

For her 21^st birthday I took Rams (the housekeeper) to a “beauty shop”. It was the first time that she had ever had her hair done by professionals. She had fairly short hair and had extensions added and braided into cornrows. She is a beautiful woman and the new style suits her well. I have noticed that she is now “taking walks” around the neighborhood; something I’d never seen her do before. It makes me smile so see her hold her head up proudly and swing her newly long hair.

Rams before and after

Victoria, who cut my hair, and her daughters

Me after the haircut

Some of you know that when I travel I “collect” haircuts. I’ve had my hair cut in Cairo Egypt, Kyoto Japan, La Fortuna Costa Rica, Salamanca Spain, Kathmandu Nepal and several other cities around the world. I can now add Ashaiman Ghana to the list. I asked a hairdresser who I pass every day if she would cut my hair. At first she was reluctant because she had never cut “obroni” hair before but, in the end, she did cut my hair. Or rather she kind of “sawed” it with very dull scissors. It turned out great even though I kept my fingers crossed through the entire process!!

Speaking of hair, one of the things I’ve missed the most is my dogs. There are many dogs here in Ghana and they seem happy and healthy enough but dogs are not pets here. Although there are some exceptions they are mainly for protection. I see them wondering around the streets, none of them neutered, and they seem happy enough but I have not

African Cat

seen one played with, walked, or petted. Many of them actually do seem to go “home” at night.


Typical Dog Sighting

I do not believe that dogs are allowed in houses but they seem to peacefully co-exist with people. I have only seen one veterinarian and that one seemed to cater to “farm” animals. I do know that not every person from the United States is a “dog lover”, but this is definitely a different culture and a different attitude about dogs.

I was thinking about some of the dogs that I know and love back home: Xander, Riley, Jack,

My lucky, lucky dogs. Xander, Jack, and Riley

Ollie, Wally, Xena, Josephine, Joey, Qi, Winnie, Chico, Edda, Kimmer,Charlie, and many others and thought that I’d like to bring them to Ghana and let them experience life as a Ghanaian dog, just for a day, then they could be truly grateful for what they have.

There is one thing, among many, about life in Ghana where I experienced culture shock and that is the surprising lack of availability of books. Although the literacy rate is quite high, about 70%, books are not readily available. Coming from a culture where you can find books just about everywhere and libraries are common this was surprising. One of the main reason for this, or so I’ve been told, is that in a mainly subsistence culture, where it is a daily challenge for many just to put food on the table, books and time to read them are a luxury.

Another aspect of Ghanaian life that I found hard to adjust to is that this is a “cash

Ghana Cedi

economy”. Credit, although not unheard of, is not very common. Being used to a “credit economy”, where I make most of my purchases with a card, I found it is very different making all transactions in cash.

This “cash economy” displays itself in an interesting way. There are a great many homes in various states of construction. When I asked about this I was told that mortgages are very uncommon. A family will save money and, first, buy the land.

Abandoned or just half-done??

As money is saved they move on to the next stage of construction. It can take several years to build a home from start to finish. Families often live in completed portions of a house while the home is still in process. Sometimes the money is never saved and the half built house goes back to the land.

And interesting observation; receiving blankets (the ones we use for newborn babies) are put to varied and interesting uses. I’ve seen them used as head coverings, sweat rags, watermelon cleaners, and a variety of other uses but I have not seen them used for babies. I had this vision of some charity thinking they were doing a service by sending these blankets to Ghana, and they were, but perhaps not the service they were intending. I could imagine a Ghanaian unloading several cases of these blankets, scratching their head and wondering just what the heck they were. But Ghanaians are industrious and ingenious and found uses for this odd item. Here, babies are carried wrapped in a large piece of cloth on their mother’s back not swaddled in blankets.

Wonder what this sign would look like in the U.S.?

Not only are babies carried on their mother’s back but women also carry large loads on their heads and in their hands; all at the same time! I look at these women in awe and wonder. I am continually surprised at the amazing feats these women are able to accomplish.

I’ve come to realize that carrying on the head is a sexist and a classist skill; and it is a skill. I have tried this, much to the amusement of many, and have only managed to embarrass myself. I’ve been told that all women in Ghana are trained from a very early age to carry loads on their heads. But women of a certain social and economic class, although they are able to do this, hire women to carry loads for them. It becomes “below their status” in society to perform this task. Also, only men of “certain” tribes carry on their heads. This is an interesting dynamic since, whether a head carrying man or a non-head carrying man, they seem to have a certain disdain for the other.

Examples of head carrying:

They start 'em young

Sunglasses Man

Another thing I’ve noticed is facial scarring on many people; some subtle and some quite extensive. Facial and other body scars are not uncommon but I do not see them on the majority of people here. I’ve learned that, although some are just scars, many are “tribal markings”. Some are done at birth and some in rituals and rites of passage as part of certain tribal cultures. Some of the scaring is quite elaborate and, in my opinion, quite beautiful.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I have noticed various ways that Ghanaians use to get my attention, from hissing to call me “Auntie”. There is one word that people have been hollering for some time and I just recently realized they were talking to me. That word is “Mama”. What, me a “Mama”? I don’t think so.

I have learned that this word pretty much means “Grandma”!!! Wow, that makes it so much worse. Then I started looking back at some of the “age related discrimination” I’ve

The "old lady" and her "son"

encountered and it made me laugh. I’ve been asked if I need help into a Tro-Tro or climbing stairs, told that I was “very strong” when I stepped up about 2 feet to stand on a curb, been asked if my 35 year old classmate is my son (a biological possibility), and was told that if I were “young and attractive” I might encounter some problems working with male clients but, as an “old woman”, would not have a problem.

All of this thinking about my age led me to the realization that I really don’t see that many “old” Ghanaians. Oh, they are there just not as noticeable as we “oldsters” are in the United States. The “average” lifespan for Ghana is, depending on the source, between 56 and 62 for men and 58 and 64 for women.

Some of my Ghanaian "counterparts"

That’s a good 20 years less than in the United State!. No wonder they think I’m an old lady. At nearly 53 I am in my “golden years” here in Ghana.

Hawkers on the streets of Accra

Amazingly almost anything can be bought from a car. Any place that traffic slows down (roundabouts, the rare traffic light, and the less rare tollbooth) the “hawkers” come out in full force. You can buy anything from vegetables to paper products, comic books to toilet bowl cleaner, snack items to live chickens, headphones to towels, and so on (and mostly carried on heads!). Just roll down your window and yell out what you are looking for. These “hawkers” have some sort of communication system and lookout for each other. Soon after you holler out what you are looking to buy a seller shows up. I saw something similar in Kingston Jamaica but they were mostly selling spliffs.

Another interesting economic quandary I’ve found is that two major exports from Ghana are electricity and water. Yet there are regular “lights out” (electrical outages) and “no flow” (no water flowing) times nearly every day.

At the power plant with Evelyn

Many in Ghana do not even have electricity and/or running water; it needs to be “fetched” from public sources. I don’t have enough knowledge to comment on this. It is just an observation.

Typical litter

I’ve also mentioned in previous posts the tremendous and unsightly amounts of garbage one finds lying around. I swear some of those previously mentioned, plentiful black plastic bags I see everywhere seem to be breathing – if I were on a hallucinogenic this would be truly terrifying!! I am happy to say that, even in the short time I have been here, I have noticed a change in public attitude about this trash problem. In my daily walk to work and back I see more and more public trash cans being placed around. I see billboard ads (a form of pollution in its own

These are popping up all over

right) advertising for a “Greener Ghana”, there are people dedicated to recycling and will pay for plastic (I bought a couple of items from a place called “Trashy Bags”), I’ve seen what looks like Government Litter Patrol crews, and I was actually in a Tro-Tro when the driver “chased down” another vehicle and chastised them for throwing litter out the window. Times, they are a changin’ but change is a process not an event and Ghana has a long way to go.

I am reminded of something similar from my youth; some of you may remember this. It was a television commercial for the “Keep America Beautiful” campaign featuring a Native American, portrayed by character actor Iron Eyes Cody (not an Indian, by the way). The Indian gazes upon a litter strewn freeway, a bag of garbage thrown from a passing car lands at his feet. His stoic and proud face has a single tear rolling down his cheek. The voice over says, “People start pollution. People can stop it.”

I have gone on quite enough but I will end with a final thought. It is time for me to come home. I am starting to feel to “special”. At my workplace, the House of St. Francis, I have been asked to do some pretty “special” things. I have created and presented curriculum on recovery, presented at a family program, helped to develop the fundamentals of a women’s recovery center, shaken the hands of Chiefs and Queen Mothers, contributed to a SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats) Analysis, developed Position Descriptions, been asked for my opinion, and have had many other opportunities to use my skills, but also to feel “special”.

One of the things I am going to miss the most about Ghana

On my last day at the House of St. Francis the men, residents and staff, had a good bye party where each man said something wonderful and how much I would be missed. They “presented” me with a gift of beautiful fabric. There was a lot of tears and hugging. Oh, how I will miss these men.

I finally did “give testimony” at a few churches doing education about the disease of addiction. I would walk through the streets of Ashaiman and hear, “Miss Shelia”, and have some woman (always a woman) stop and tell me that she’d seen me at church.

At home I have my laundry laundered (by hand), meals prepared, and have been cleaned up after. I have been treated like a queen. My host family, Joe and Evelyn Quartey, gave me a wonderful gift of two beautiful Ghanaian dress (not the kind that fit like a condom) that I will proudly wear.

Evelyn and Joe. Aren't they sweet?

Evelyn is sending me home with Shito and Gari (two Ghanaian foods that, together, can create an entire meal). Joe gave a very wonderful and heartfelt speech about how impressed he was that I’d come to Ghana, at my own expense, to do service work and how proud he was of me for my efforts (tears again); and this from a man who rarely speaks.

My ego has been bolstered enough!!

Yeah, it is time to go home -- where I am just Shelia; a worker among workers and a friend among friends.