Heathrow or Deathrow

I've had enough
I'm jumping on a plane to get to you
It's all arranged

I've only got one bag it's packed
My passports been re-newed
It's all arranged
-The Dears


For almost four whole months, I spent many of my evenings sitting out on the balcony of my room, watching planes take off and land at the airport, always thinking "Someday, that'll be me". Finally on Friday, it was me. I said my goodbyes to Meaghan, Hilde and Leila, three of the best friends I made last semester and went off to wait for my flight. Like them, I felt like I was actually going home...

I took the brand new Ghana International Airways overnight, which didn't disappoint with inflight meals and free drinks (a tea and brandy put me to sleep). By 6AM, we had landed at Gatwick Airport outside of London. I walked out on to to the tarmac in shorts and a t-shirt and the cold winter air woke me up - I didn't feel chilly, but refreshed to feel such cold air that hadn't been conditioned, for the first time in about 10 months! It was wonderful.

My next task was to get my bags and get on over to Heathrow where Maleaha would be landing at 9:20AM (thanks be to God for flight delays). I hopped on a coach shuttle and spent most of the 1 hour journey down the country highway excited/anxious/mesmerized by where I was going and what I was doing. The English countryside at sunrise was a sight to behold...

I got to the waiting area in good time and was there to see Maleaha walk in and she found me easily - like a limo service, I was holding up a sign that read "SWEETNESS". I was so happy, I was on the verge of crying. It was such a wonderful feeling to finally have her back in my arms again. Just like "Love Actually", indeed!

What's up pt. 2

So we made it by train and ferry to Dublin. It's a fantastic city (downtown looks like York st. in Ottawa with a giant river in the middle) and I'm absolutely stoked to get to know more of it... updates soon, I promise!

What's up

Hey all, I haven't had the time to post, though I have plenty to say. Here's the basic rundown:

1. Togo and Benin were pretty sweet. French West Africa is something else!
2. Said goodbye to many friends in the last few days. Very sad.
3. I've arrived safely in London with Maleaha. It's really beautiful and it's hard to believe I'm actually here, after four months in Ghana... but we haven't much time here, since we're getting ready to hop the train and ferry to Dublin to meet Anthony tomorrow. Sweet!

So once I'm there, hopefully I'll have the time to post my happenings. See you soon.

John Hughes, Eat Your Heart Out.

After handing in the final exam paper of the semester, the young man heaves a sigh of relief that had been many months coming. He slings his backpack over his right shoulder and walks confidently away from the Great Hall, away from all of his troubles and into the African sunset, ready for a new adventure. To the sound of the Geto Boys, he walks down the stairs, jumping off the last one with his fist in the air and a lone finger extended. Freeze frame. Fade to black.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta.


Next up: A week in Togo and Benin. See you around...

"B" is for Books I Shouldn't Be Reading Right Now.

I spent most of today downtown riding tro-tros and running errands in preparation for the fast-approaching travel season. I had many important things to attend to, but what did I do? I went to a second-hand bookstore and bought some books! I picked up Primary Colors, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and Michael Crichton's Timeline - all for about $10. Unfortunately, I have found Primary Colors to be much more engaging than my notes for Management of NGOs, whose exam is tomorrow morning at 7:30. Yikes.

Call me the Bookie Monster, but I've actually read quite a bit this semester, mostly due to the large amounts of waiting for things to happen and extra time in general. Here's a list of what I've been reading:

-Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe - a gift from Dave (thanks!) and an excellent introduction to colonialism.
-Fall on Your Knees by Anne Marie MacDonald - great historical Canadian fiction. Like Anne of Green Gables, but a lot raunchier.
-The Bookseller of Kabul by Asne Seierstad - Afghanistan never looked so bleak!
-Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger - a must-read for confused teenagers everywhere.
-Arrow of God by Chinua Achebe

Anyways, back to the books...

Everybody Come Look At My Beard!

So here's me after not shaving for over a month. Not bad, eh? It took a little while, but it came in pretty well. I've been getting comparisons to Ryan Gosling of The Notebook and Jesus Christ, (from both my roommate AND my girlfriend... weird) so at least I look like someone famous!


I figure that I should work on it while I'm out here, since I'm lazy about hygiene in Ghana anyways. Plus, I've got a long way to go if I'm going to get a beard like my dad! Something tells me I'll come up short on that end...(sidenote: I've since shaven it for the moment)


Also of note: check me out drinking a bag of water(or "sachet" if you want to sound intellectual). Before we came, we were told to ONLY drink bottled water, but they're almost a dollar and these things are five cents a piece. The key is to only drink ones with the Ghana Board of Standards stamp of approval. That's your guide to not getting typhoid (which someone I know did and apparently it really bites).

More Pictures!

Well, it's been over two months since I last updated my photos and it's been way too long. Putting up so many has been a long and expensive process, but I managed to get a good batch of them up. There are more to come in the next few days before I head out, so check back all the way to September for colourful posts!

"The Dark Continent" - A Tale of Two Countries

Something that my friends out here in Accra loathe is the way people love to lump everything from Algeria to Zimbabwe as "Africa". "How are things in Africa?" they say. "I don't know. I haven't seen much of it," we reply. People seem to forget that we are living in Accra, a city in Ghana, which is a country in West Africa, which is in turn part of a continent on planet Earth.

For many, Africa is this mystical place where people go and live in mut hut villages, side by side with monkeys and elephants and eat bushmeat. Maybe in Kenya they do, but in reality, Africa isn't that simple, no matter to what degree politicians and pan-Africanists try to put it into a box. (Heck, look at my blog address... I'm guilty of it too)

In reality, Africa is a much more complex and interesting entity. (For anyone interested, please read Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux) Here's an example of how diverse even two neighbouring countries can be:

On the liberal extreme, South Africa will soon join a handful of countries that has legalized same-sex marriage. Whether you agree with it or not (survey says most South Africans do not), this shows how "nontraditional" an African nation, or at least its government, can be.

Right next door in the wee nation of Swaziland, the country with the world's highest HIV infection rate, the king (yes, it is still an absolute monarchy) cancelled this year's World AIDS Day celebrations for no logical reason whatsoever. Now THAT'S conservative.

While I will only be seeing West Africa, (and only some of it, at that) I'm really excited to see the differences within the area: traditional and modern, French and English systems, military and democratic governments, tribal and cosmopolitan societies, deep jungles and Saharan sand dunes, monkeys and camels... it's a large and heterogeneous land, so the next time you hear something about "Africa" in the news, remember to think twice.

My Norwegian Friends / Hangin' With Hassan

Out of all the people who are going to be leaving this semester, Hilde and Leila from Norway are two girls that I'll be missing in spades. I haven't known many Norwegians in my lifetime (in fact, I probably haven't met ANY), but they sure make it seem like a rocking country. Friendly people, reindeers and fjords, wealthy socialist economy... Norway has it all!

They're also interesting people. Hilde was in the Norwegian Army (oh no! Not the Norwegians!) and has lots of great stories. Leila is a free-spirit of Palestinian descent and has the coolest accent ever, which I have developed a knack at imitating, to her chagrin. They're both great dinner and travel buddies and are always up for some fun. (I actually had plans to transfer over to the university in Palestine next semester that Leila will be going to, but they hit a brick wall. Ask me about that story sometime...)

Anyways, Leila's dad Hassan is here to visit her for a week and he took us out to dinner, which is always great. (Free dinner + interesting people = an evening well-spent) Yesterday, Leila had an exam, so I brought Hassan along with me to find a traveller's backpack for the winter break. My roommate Patrick was gracious enough to take us all the way downtown to the monstrous Makola Market and soon enough, we found a nice used, sturdy backpack for $20US - it already had a Canadian flag sewn on it!


Patrick had to go home to study, but I got to be Hassan's tour guide for the rest of the morning. We went from Makola (perhaps the heartbeat of the city) on a tro-tro to Osu (the commercial Mecca of Ghana) to see Koala Market, Woodin fabric store, Frankie's bakery and other notable landmarks. Plus we got hassled plenty by hawkers and he was even mistaken for my father. We ended with lunch at a great salad bar (Sunshine Salads) with espresso. Cheers!

Travel Plans

Well, my last exam is on Tuesday (note to self: start studying) and most people are flying out next week, whether for another adventure or just to go home. It really bites, because now that they're all ready to go home, us veterans who are here until May are feeling like WE'RE ready to go, too.

On the upside, everyone has really sweet travel plans from after exams to the beginning of February. Here's mine!

December 8th - 14th (-ish): Togo and Benin with friends. It'll be neat to have a taste of French West Africa (apparently there are cafés and baguettes everywhere).

December 16th - January 11th: Flying to London, meeting Maleaha, taking the train/ferry to Dublin, meeting Anthony and staying in town for two weeks (including Christmas and New Years!), with some weekend excursions. Then head back to London for a few days of sightseeing and back to Accra.

January 13th - First week of February: Head up North through Ghana, Burkina Faso and arrive at Bamako, Mali to meet up with Joe and Matt in time for the inaugural African Social Forum, a giant open-ended conference on issues of poverty, democracy and economic injustice. Then we'll poke around Mali (which fellow travellers have said is breathtaking) for about a week, before heading back home for classes next semester.


It looks like it's going to be fantastic. After that, I'll be flat broke and it'll be about 3 more months of school and then home again, home again, jiggity-jig...

The Ghana Immigration Office - Hell on Earth?

This morning, I finally received my passport complete with stamp allowing me to legally reside in Ghana for one year.

The residency saga began over a month ago. When we realized that our 6 month entry visas were actually only valid for 60 days after entering the country (you really have to read the fine print with these things), we tried to find out the process of applying for residency.

Unlike our pampered American friends, we don't have a program director in Ghana, so we were not spared the bureaucratic nightmare that is the Ghana Immigration Office. One would think that the process entails a) sending in the application and b) receiving the visa. Fools! We're in Ghana... how could it be so simple?

No. The average applicant has to make 4.5 trips over the span of a month to the immigration office before receiving their passport back. For me, it took no less than six visits. Here's a general breakdown of how it happened:

Visit the 1st: After a long time trying to find the building, was informed that there was a flag-raising ceremony, so the office was closed for the day.
Visit the 2nd: Angry clerk claimed that they could not accept applications from students until the university sent its official records. (Oops! So now we're offically illegal aliens thanks to the IPO's incompetence)
Visit the 3rd: Angry clerk would not accept application due to lack of required photocopy of letter of acceptance to the University of Ghana, despite bringing proof of registration and letter from university explicitly asking to extend my residency.
Visit the 4th: Angry clerk reluctantly accepted application. Thankfully overlooked incomplete proof of fee payment.
Visit the 5th: Arrived on Monday to claim passport. Despite the fact that it should have been done the previous Friday, angry clerk told me to come back next week.
Visit the 6th: Unceremoniously received passport from angry clerk.

And these are the lucky ones... Mel from Brock University had to go at least seven times. SEVEN TIMES. Every time, the angry life-hating clerk asks for yet another inconsequential piece of identification. Every time we tried to reason with the lady or ask to speak to a superior, we got a form response, as if we were talking to a customer service phoneline. Why does it have to be this way?

Kids, the moral of the story is that the Ghanaian bureaucracy is crap. I can't imagine how one would get a driver's license or apply for a building permit in this country. The immigration office is literally Hell on Earth.

PS - don't forget to bring every piece of identification you own (i.e. completed application forms, letter of acceptance, official request by university, 4 passport photos, photocopies of passport, visa, and student ID) or else the angry imps behind the glass window will deny you with a resounding "NEIN!"

All Systems Are Go...

Dear Diary,

Could today be the greatest Monday in the history of mankind? Most days you can only get one or two things done, due to travel times and things rarely working out the way you plan them to. However, I just had the most productive morning here since I arrived.

1) Reconfirmed that my ticket for London is legit.

2) After weeks of freaking out and multiple visits, I finally received my passport from the immigration office and am officially a legal resident of Ghana, which means now I'm allowed to go and come as I please. ("Go and come" - Ghanaian slang for leaving somewhere with the intention of returning shortly)

3) After weeks of suspense, I have been told by the Assistant Registrar that I will indeed be moved to a single room next semester! It will be in the new International Student Hostel ("ISH 2" or "Bizarro ISH" as I like to call it) that is almost complete, just down the road. So I'll have a new room, new facilities, be closer to the Night Market and - most importantly - have a personal space. Finally I can start settling in physically and mentally and as Jon has said, I'll have a place to hide. To say I'm excited would be an understatement. In the words of my dear friend Rick, I'm stoked!

Hallelujah and Amen: Mr. Obruni's Charismatic Evangelical Experience

A common invitation in Ghana (and sometimes also a roundabout way for women to court men, as I have experienced) is to come to one's church. People often ask us obrunis "when will you come to my church?" The problem for most is that they are not Christian and most agnostics/athiests aren't too keen on spending their Sunday morning in the middle of boisterous praise and worship. Loud noises aren't good for people with hangovers...

Even for myself, a fairly religious and church-going Catholic, churches in Ghana have been a source of discomfort. I like my worship joyful, but also on the more solemn side. However, my roommate Patrick had been asking me for the whole semester when I would be coming to church with him. Leila and Hannah had gone with him a few weeks ago and didn't have much positive to say about the experience. As uneasy as I had been with the idea, I decided that it would be good for both our relationship and my understanding of Ghanaian religion and culture, so I made sure to book this Sunday morning off, got dressed up and took a cab to North Legon...

To preface, Patrick is a member of the Charismatic Evangelical Movement. And that pretty much describes it well. The church was large, expensive-looking and the sort-of-compound that it was in had a number of other construction projects going on. When I entered (Patrick had to go and play on the keyboards), there was a huge choir singing and people were dancing and waving their hands in the air, like they just didn't care. I was also the only white guy in the room, so it took a while to get comfortable...

The basic run down of the service was singing - message from reverend - singing - message from another reverend - singing, etc. People were singing, crying aloud and one guy fell over and fainted. The main pastor, Rev. Steve Mensah, was charismatic indeed. He gave a Castro-worthy marathon sermon about the story of Job and how the Lord will provide for one, if they stick it out long enough.

As you can imagine, this church had a lot of money going into it. They asked for donations multiple times (really, a million cedi - $125 - isn't too much to support the ministry!) and reminded the congregation that the Lord would bless them. Rev. Mensah seems to be a pretty well-off preacher, considering he flew in from Canada last week (and went to South Africa not long before that). He casually mentioned how most pastors these days were in it for the money, but that he started up from nothing, so basically - like Job - he earned what was his (which, I'm told, is a lot). While I won't make a judgement call on it, I will say that I'm glad the Catholic Church maintains the vow of poverty for its priests.

While I had sat there in my chair throughout the entire service (and those three hours flew by suprisingly quickly), I kept my anthropologist's hat on, studying my surroundings. About 2 1/2 hours into it, somewhere between the singing and the preaching and the faith healing (yes, there was faith healing and I was feeling pretty uncomfortable, even in the back) I realized something: while the preachers, congregation and service were all Ghanaian, the service was completely in English, the songs were American-style (even I knew them) and most people dressed in formal Western attire. The whole thing could have taken place in the US, like the ones you see on TV and it seemed like it was completely imported. Not surprisingly, CEM's website identifies its headquarters in London. I'll bet my last 10,000 cedi that they've received large amounts of support from abroad.

While I am not a fan of these kinds of evangelical churches (I have many, many moral and ethical issues), I can see why people flock to them. They are exciting, provide intense religious encounters and probably are the brightest part of the average person's week (Patrick's life certainly revolves around it). For better or for worse, they have become firmly entrenched in Ghanaian society and judging by the presence they have on campus alone shows the influence that they exert. Evangelical Christianity is undoubtedly the fastest-growing industry in Ghana and millions of dollars are being poured into these ministries. One of the best jobs one can find in Ghana is in a church, because the cult of personality is huge. A church in Ghana is as good as its pastor. Hey, if you could be loved by thousands, live well and travel around the world, wouldn't you sign up? I'm not saying that those being "called" to ministry are dishonest, but that this situation requires much critical analysis. Apparently CEM's Archibishop is in some personal hot water that has thrown the church into crisis. Let's see what happens...

Peace, Love and Understanding,
Rev. Obruni

It's sunny, with a high of 32C... and it's almost Christmastime?

Out here near the equator you can easily forget that it's less than a month until Christmas. Then you and your friends go and watch "Love Actually", perhaps the most sentimental, syrupy and excessive holiday movie ever made. And we loved it.

The most gratifying part about it? While everyone got homesick, I realized that just like in the movie, I'll be meeting my love at Heathrow Airport in three weeks. Then it will be another three weeks of crusing around Ireland and London. I'm so excited for the holidays that I can barely think about what's happening now. (like, for instance, EXAMS) Could this be the greatest Christmas in recorded history? All signs point to yes.

Jounalists in Black Helicopters...

The other day, Adrienne said goodbye to her friend Nacho (or it could be "Natcho"... if it is, forgive my cultural ignorance) who, along with a few co-workers, came to Ghana to do some research on the local economy. I met them at a house party not long after I arrived (see: Dark Star Island) and Adrienne has been hanging out with them since then. Check out what they do for a living:

Basically, they work for this small, elite journalism agency that does contracts for major newsmagazines (the Economist, Harper's, etc.) doing field research and writing reports on what's going on in whatever corner of the world. They are flown to strange countries (eg. Ghana, Uzbekistan, Slovenia), work in small teams, do interviews and research for about three months, then fly back to wherever their boss is and hand in their reports. They get a short vacation, then do it all over again.

Unsuprisingly, the job is hectic, unpredicatble and the turnover rate is high. Imagining living that way for years. Far out...

Those Spoiled Americans... (Pt. II)

The yankees have done it again. They found another way to one-up us other international students and rub it in our faces.

How did they do it this time? Today was American Thanksgiving and they, being well-taken care of by their program directors, had full-course dinners of turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry, stuffing and the lot. They even had pumpkin and apple pies! They also dressed up all fine 'n' respectable and hung out in the lobby, like it was prom night or something...

And were any of us invited to these sumptious feasts? Hell, no! I ate rice-and-beans leftovers from last night, with pineapple Fanta.

Happy freaking Thanksgiving.

40 Million and Rising...

I found a very sobering story from CBC yesterday: The United Nations has released a report estimating that over 40 million people are living with HIV/AIDS. In addition, it says that:

- 4.9 million people were infected in the last year.
- 3.1 million people died of AIDS-related illnesses in the last year.
- Only one in ten HIV-positive people have been idetified through testing.
- Rates have increased in all areas of the world, except for the Carribbean.
- 64% of all new infections occur in Sub-Saharan Africa.

How does one even begin to wrap one's head around these numbers? They're simply immense. Nothing like this has ever been seen before in recorded history.

For me, the strangest thing is that even though I am living in an African city and have been for over three months, I still have yet to meet a single HIV-positive person. This isn't to say that they aren't around, but rather I've never known a person who has admitted to being postive. Quite simply, it isn't talked about. The issue is out there, with billboards, stickers, t-shirts - all warning people to abstain and/or be faithful and use a condom (commonly known as the ABC method). It's an invisible killer - and that's the most dangerous thing about it. How do we stop it? Thank goodness friends of mine like Emeka at Carleton are setting up awareness organizations. We need people like them more than ever.

I'm the Sheik of Araby... (put your turban on!)

.thgrl dd knht tb hgt ttrp sw t .ydt mx cbr nttrW m trw
n nttrw s tprcs ht scb rtsm t ggnl tlcffd rv s cbr tnrffd
.stnnsnc ln slwv n hs dn tfl t thr mrf dr s ,ggnl

Translation:
I wrote my Written Arabic exam today. It was pretty tough, but I think I did alright. Arabic is a very difficult language to master because the script is written in a different language, is read from right to left and has no vowels, only consonants.

Crunch Time

So I'm in the thick of exams. Tomorrow morning (7:30, to be exact) is Written Arabic, which, despite being a first year course, is going to be tougher than all of my level 400 classes put together! The whole university is pretty tense these days, since exams routinely count for 100% of a course's grade. Sleep schedules are erratic, Ghanaians are becoming hermetic, while the Americans are apathetic. (Heck, revision week is as good an excuse as any to backpack to Mali!)

In the Hostel, the study rooms are always filled and I can't even study in the kitchen these days, because people are at the table. My room is also becoming a hotspot of academic activity, for the first time this semester. I have to study on the balcony to have privacy, which I feel a lot more at peace at, compared to the room itself. Watching planes take off and land at the airport is one of my favourite activities here.


Thought of the day: My roommate Patrick recently acted in a commercial for Areeba cell phones (the major provider in Ghana) that is apparently on TV all the time. So how come he is out of units on his phone and why does he keep borrowing MY cell to make calls?

Those Spoiled Americans...

(Note: I've updated some posts retroactively, so check the last two weeks for new ones)

Damn Yankees! First they get these neat programs where they have directors in Ghana and get oriented by them, have their administrative work done for them (upcoming post: The Ghana Immigration Office - Hell on Earth?) and enjoy their high dollar and fellow American roommates.

Now they've found another way to one-up us Canadians... despite the fact that almost every one of them is only staying for one semester, it seems like all of their parents are coming to Ghana to visit them!

What gives? They're only gone for about four months, they live the easy life and party all the time, but somehow mommy and daddy just HAVE to come and see them, put them up in fancy hotels while they're here and make sure they're all tucked in at night, so the boogeyman Kwame Nkrumah won't get them (Geoff will get that one, I know it). To put this into perspective, the Carleton group (plus Mel and Esther from Brock) is here for the entire school year and our parents laugh at the idea of coming to Africa. Heck, I have to meet my girlfriend halfway just to see her! (Note: I love you very much and am very glad to be able to spend Christmas with you.)

Anyways, I don't have an ideological bent against the Americans or the fact that they're getting to share their awesome experiences with their family, but seriously - where's the cosmic justice in it?

Happy Three Years, Maleaha!

Well, it's an odd place to celebrate, but my love and I are having a little webcam "date" from the swanky internet cafe on campus (it's twice the price, but 10 times as fast). The occassion? We've been together for three whole years. And they've been the best three years of my life, most definitely.

For all of you prospective travellers out there in a committed relationship, I can't say that I'd recommend going away for nine months if you've got someone special that needs you. Lisa, Meghan and I have all had to leave very significant others back home and we've been trying to keep in as close contact with them as possible. E-mails, internet chatting, letters, postcards, phonecalls... whatever it takes! At times, it's been very difficult and stressful for all of us. The space between can make you feel different, distant and helpless to whatever's happening. Sometimes it feels like too much...

Thankfully, we've all got plans to meet up with them sometime during the semester. Meghan's partner Garrett may be coming during Reading Week, Lisa's husband Peter is coming for three weeks and I'll be meeting Maleaha halfway for our England/Ireland adventure. (Ah compromise, the sign of a healthy relationship!)

Well, here's to you, Maleaha! I hope the fourth year anniversary will be better than the third!


"And though the world may fall apart
You've got my soul, I've got your heart."
-The Dears

Kumasi and Obuasi: labyrinths above and below ground

As November rolls along and the exam season approacheth, the students are getting into study mode (or something vaguely resembling it). So why not have one last kick at the can, travel-wise? Hannah was going out to Kumasi and I said what the hell.

I must admit, I was never keen on Kumasi. From what I read, it was busy, dull and all full of itself due to its claim to fame as the home of the Ashanti people and their once-great empire. I was quite surprised with what was in store for the weekend...

We arrived downtown in early afternoon on Saturday and I instantly liked the vibe that the city gave off. It seemed to remind me of so many places: the city was relaxed, and the buildings had a sort of colonial-vibe, maybe like a city in Cuba; there were many small shops and stands, covered in old-style painted ads, perhaps like Spadina Avenue in Toronto; the downtown was filled with narrow, winding streets going up-and-downhill, like an old Italian village that had outgrown itself, but still kept its natural shape throughout the years… oh, and there were open sewers, so it smelled like Accra. Regardless, it's a great city to walk around and get lost in. If I were writing a novel, I'd probably book a loft apartment and write from my balcony whilst drinking lots of brandy. Just call me Hemingway.

There was plenty of life to be found that afternoon in Kejetia Market. Home to over 10,000 vendors, it's believed to be the largest open-air market in West Africa. To be honest, I can't imagine a market being any bigger! We walked down railway tracks through the main areas and ducked into the labyrinth of shops inside… it really has to be seen to be believed. I have no idea how people find their own shops inside, let alone haul their goods and raw materials: vegetables, smelly meat, candy, old clothes, textiles, rubber for making shoes… they had just about everything a Ghanaian could want! We went back Monday morning and it was even more hectic and difficult to get around. When I see hundreds of people selling the exact same thing, I imagine a Wal-Mart being built next to it and EVERYBODY going out of business. (knock on wood)

If souvenirs and knick-knacks are your thing, the National Cultural Centre has a line of shops selling carvings, paintings, kente cloth, drums, brass figurines and other Western-oriented consumer goods – all at highly-inflated prices. We didn't get much. We also met a local self-taught juju man (witch doctor) who sold Hannah a tea mix that cures every ailment under the sun. It also may both inhibit and improve chances of conception – we're not sure which one. On a darker note, he said that he also has cures for AIDS, which is definitely not something that I'd promote.

The best part of the NCC was the Prempeh II Jubilee Museum, which has a small but fantastic collection of artefacts from the Ashanti Empire, which once ruled an area larger than Ghana itself and fought the British for a long time before being conquered. No photos were allowed, but Yaa, our tour guide, really did her homework and answered all of my questions. It's a must-see.

Compared to Accra, Kumasi is pretty dull at night, especially on Sundays. We stayed at the decent Presbyterian Guest House and met a bunch of British medical students studying here for a few weeks and they brought us out on Saturday night for some dinner and drunken karaoke at a half-empty bar. It was no Champs, but we still got in some Motown, Beatles and Celine Dion.

Sunday was pretty relaxed, since everything is closed. However, Asante Kotoko, Ghana's best football team, won the final match of the season and also the league championship, so in the evening, the streets were filled with red-and-white clad fans. A female fan at the guesthouse told me that Accra's fans are notoriously vicious and that a few years ago there were deadly riots. Thank goodness that I live in a country where we have more than one sport…

The lady was actually from Canada and worked with CUSO, the development agency that Maleaha has been doing her placement with this year. I had a thousand and one questions for her that I wish I could have asked…


Finally, we went about 1 ½ hours South to Obuasi, where Anglo-Gold Ashanti operates a giant mining operation. You can get a tour for about $10US, but if you don't have your own car, it's a little more, as it was for us. The guides took us down 1,600m (or feet, depending on who you asked) in a tiny elevator called "the cage" to where the miners are trained and they showed us the basic process of shaft mining. We got to wear attractive blue coats, helmets and headlamps, but we weren't allowed to mine any of the gold that was in the mine walls. The tour was expensive, but totally worth the price of admission... the best part is when they take you into the dark areas – but I won't spoil it for you. We hiked up a few hundred metres to an opening below the surface where trucks can pass through and got metal-detected by the guard, to make sure we didn't steal any of his precious, precious gold.

A word of advice: if you go there early on in the day, you'll get to see workers being trained and lots more activity than near the end of the shift, when we went. Also, when we went to the tro-tro station around 5:30, the last one to Accra had already left. So we had to go back through Kumasi, which was a long and terrible journey. But we won't talk about that.

Anyways, Kumasi itself was great (if not a bit expensive) and we'll be back next semester most definitely. In fact, if we were given the choice of studying in Accra or Kumasi, I'd be tempted to choose the latter and I know my friends would be too. Not a bad way of ending the semester.


PS - Eat at Vic Baboo's. It's freakin' fantastic.

A New Hope For Liberia?

This just in...

Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf has just been elected as President of Liberia. This makes her the first female president in African History! While I don't know how the country will react to the news, or if she will effectively govern the war-torn country (which is just getting out of 15 years of brutal military rule), I believe that this is good news for the country. Especially considering her opponent was 39-year old George Weah who, while perhaps being Africa's greatest footballer, never finished high school and probably has no idea of how to run a country.

When I think of the people I met at the Liberian refugee camp who have been waiting their whole lives for peace and prosperity in their home country, I am hopeful that they will be able to return to their homes and continue their past lives, or start over altogether. What will the future hold for Liberia? I guess we'll just have to wait and see...

Communication Difficulties.

Criminy... does anything work here anymore? It would appear not. The internet connection has been rather sporadic for the last few days and so has the electricity supply on campus, so I have spent a lot of time without even the simple luxury of my ceiling fan! I've had some excellent incidents in the last week, but no chance to share them. There's Rastafari and Muslim celebrations, birthday parties and some exciting news for the future - and they will all come in time, but you'll have to wait for a bit... I'll toss you one I saved up about food. Enjoy!

Islamic Party (AKA My friend Abbas)

Happy Eid al-Fitr! Yesterday was the Muslim festival that ends the month-long fasting of Ramadan, in which the faithful abstain from eating, smoking, having sex - basically anything that would be considered fun - between sunrise and sunset.

This was especially visible here in Accra. A large number of Ghanaians practice Islam (especially in the North, in which about half the population is Muslim), so much so that it is a public holiday in Ghana. Not bad considering yesterday was Coronation, so two parties from two religions in two days!

The day begins with morning prayers at the mosque and later with celebration, although most Muslims are too tired and hungry to party by then. Joe and Amanda dressed up in full garb (including hijab) and went to mosque to meet up with a friend.

As you may or may not recall, I'm currently taking elementary Arabic. A considerable number of classmates are Muslims and so is our TA/prof, Abass. He invited the entire class to his house to celebrate Eid with his family in the afternoon.

Funny enough, the only two students who took him up on his offer were myself and Britney - the only two international students! Boy will the other students be sorry about that, because we had the best cultural experience so far here in Ghana that day.

We took a tro-tro to Ashaiman, which is North of Tema, the industrial and processing centre of Ghana, right next to Accra. We were picked up at the station by his brother, who was known as "Chief", since he happened to be the chief of Zongo, a district of about 9,000 people.

Zongo, more accurately, is a slum. The housing is basic, the roads are terrible and the sewage is pretty hard to ignore. There aren't any real social or public services (most of their money goes to Tema, so they give more to the city than they receive), save for what comes through Muslim charities from the Middle East, so life in general isn't too peachy.

Despite this, Chief told me that Ashaiman is like a United Nations, because people from all over Africa live there. It's a main transit route and he believes that there are about 500,000 people there - twice the official estimates.

Abass' compound (he lives with his brothers, their wives and their children) was quite modest. Despite his being a lecturer and his brother being a chief, there's not much money around, yet we were treated so graciously by his family! The ladies attended to us and asked about school, life in North America, how women act and dress back home. Then Abbas and Chief took us for a tour of the area. We met many important people in the town and ended up sitting in on a feast/political meeting of the opposition party (boy were we suprised). We met the key party workers and even their Member of Parliament.

However, the best moment was when we visited the Imam of Ashaiman (its spiritual leader, the Muslim equivalent of a bishop). He invited us into his home, gave us his blessings said a special prayer for us. While I'm no Muslim, I certainly felt very privileged to be part of such a solemn moment.

As the sun went down, we returned to Abass' house, where we were fed very well again. We said our goodbyes and were given a ride back to Accra. We vowed to come back again before Britney leaves in December and the women agreed to tattoo some traditional Muslim henna patterns on her hands and feet. How is that for Muslim hospitality?

That's all for now. Ma'a salaam!

The Rastafari Movement (AKA My Friend Cha Cha)

While Southern Ghana appears to be more or less an Evangelical Christian monoculture, with tribal affiliation and social structure on the wane, there are a few subcultures that are becoming highly visible. A prime example of this is the Rastafari movement (don't call it Rastafarianism... because "-isms" create schisms!).

I'm told that in recent times, it has become a new home for Rastafarians and their culture. Considering the amount of reggae one hears on the radio, I'm not suprised. Even Bob Marley's widow, Rita, recently built a state-of-the-art studio in Aburi, north of Accra (Note to self: record next album in Rita Marley's studio).

Wednesday marked the 70th anniversary of the Coronation of Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia - the Lion of Judah himself. So there was a big party at Akuma Village, near the beach in Western Accra, with live reggae bands, vegetarian food and the whole nine yards.

We met up with our new friend Cha Cha, who is one of the inhabitants of XOFA village. His band was supposed to play that night, but it fell through for some reason. Anyways, Cha Cha is a great guy who is all about peace, love, understanding and all that other idealistic hippie crap. And he knows the difference between a Rasta who is true to himself and the fake pot-smoker wannabes. He even said that he couldn't wait to get back to XOFA in Volta Region, because he just couldn't take the city life. In a country where rural-urban migration is a huge problem, here is a guy who knows the score!

Anyways, we danced for a while to the music and then suddenly a fuse blew and the power went out. Soon, a drum beat started up and there were voices singing in the darkness, truly a sight to behold. The spirit of Ras Tafari lives on! Happy Coronation Day, kids.

Ex-Pat Food

So I discussed at length what the average Ghanaian eats, but man cannot live on fufu alone and neither can we ex-pats. If we did, we’d probably get pretty squirrelly and go nuts. So here’s an idea of what we eat when we’re feeling homesick.

Assase Pa
Most of us Canadians here are vegetarians or (gasp!) vegans, so the fish-based Ghanaian cuisine doesn’t really gel with them. Besides, even if you ask a local cook if her food has meat in it, she’ll say no, just to please you. So we go (at least weekly, it seems) to this happening place on Ring Road near Circle that’s run by business-wise Rastafarians called Assase Pa. They’ve got it all: salads of every type, veggie burgers with yam balls, tofu kebabs and the most delicious soy ice cream you’ve ever tried. I personally recommend the “sogo slicks”, which are like having ribs without the guilt. The price is right and there’s a bar next door if you want to wash down your health-conscious meals with some liver-unconscious beer.

Pizza Inn
Near the main entrance of the campus is a Mobil station (run by Exxon-Mobil, the same climate change-deniers that brought you Esso) with associate restaurants, the most notable being Pizza Inn, which makes decent pizzas there if you ever get a hankering for one. “2 for 1 Terrific Tuesday” has quickly become an institution among the Canadian and American students here and we rarely miss the opportunity to get a large pizza for about $3.50 each.

Haveli’s
Tucked away from the main drag in Osu is an authentic Indian restaurant with great food and vibe. It’s a little on the pricier side, but it’s well worth it and pretty much everything on the menu is fantastic, except for the green stuff that gave Meghan food poisoning and made her go insane. But we still go there without her anyways.

Tip-Top
My favourite Chinese food restaurant is also in Osu, but it also has a great vibe and the prices are decent. For you Markhamites, this is the closest thing to Tangerine that I have (but no mango chicken!).

Champs
When you need nachos, beer, televised sports AND karaoke, you come on here, pilgrim.

Ryan's Irish Pub
While I haven't actually been here yet, apparently it looks just like an authentic Irish Pub. I've already booked my seat for St. Patty's Day.

Koala / Max Mart
If you want a homemade Western meal, you can always do as Jesus commanded and make it your damned self! Go to one of these fancy supermarkets (see: “Oasis in My Desert”) and get yourself some veggies, meat, overpriced breakfast cereals, freshly-made breads and pastries and whatever else you can think of. Hummus and pita are always a winning team.

There are many places in Accra to eat at (always check the Bradt guide) and many unexpected opportunities to get odd stuff like gummi bears or BBQ burgers (hello, Canadian High Commission!), but here's an idea of what we ex-pats go for when we get a hankerin' for some good eats.

"Hello Obruni, where you from?"

While our tro-tro was being stopped by police officers at a checkpoint merely because us white people were on it, being asked for ID and getting hassled for carrying our U of Ghana cards but not our passports (Why the hell would we? We just went to Volta Region, jackass), we realized that for some people, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Since 99% of the Ghanaian population is black, you get quickly targeted as a minority (see “White Like Me”) no matter where you’re from.

Case in point: A man I know of is Ghanaian, born and raised. However, his family is from Lebanon, so despite the fact that he holds valid Ghanaian citizenship by nature of his birth and despite the fact that his family probably owns half of Osu (Koala Market and Frankie's Bakery and Hotel are owned by a Lebanese family), as long as he stays in Ghana he will be targeted as 1) a tourist and 2) someone with money that can be extracted from him.

I’ve already been mistaken for both of those people, but the difference is that in mid-May I’ll return to Canada, where I blend in, while he lives his life here, always seen as an outsider. Adrienne’s roommate Nini, a great person who is studying to become a doctor, probably also feels it as a Ghanaian of Chinese descent.

I'm starting to understand on a very limited scale what people must feel like as visible minorities. I may be part of a privileged minority, but what about those who are always seen as foreigners and are constantly questioned as to where they're from? Whenever I see someone who doesn't look "Ghanaian", I subconsciously assume that they must be from somewhere else. Even in Canada, we see someone of perhaps Indian or Chinese descent and wonder how long they've been there, while we assume that whites have been around forever (my family actually has). I suppose that even in a "civilized" multicultural society, we are still so quick to judge others. We just don't ask for their money while we're at it.

Budaburam Visit

While in Winneba, I met a young woman from the Netherlands named Lian who was volunteering for three months at the Budaburam Liberian Refugee Camp outside of Accra and was invited for a tour. “The more the merrier”, she said. So I brought six. You’d be surprised at how easy it is to pass by a refugee camp, if you don’t know what you’re looking for. My cab did on the way there, but we doubled-back and found it.

For a little insight, the camp was built by the United Nations in 1990 in reaction to the flood of refugees exiting the West African country of Liberia as civil strife set in. Under the oppressive regime of Charles Taylor, the country suffered and people kept coming to the camp and returned, although everyone I spoke to still wants to. If you show a child in the camp a map of Africa and ask where they live, they won’t point to Ghana, they’ll point to Liberia.

In the last 15 years, the size of the camp has increased to over 40,000 people. Unlike the camps seen on television in Darfur, this is more like a Palestinian camp, because when a refugee camp is built and not destroyed, it evolves. The camp was filled with small shops, restaurants and businesses selling everything that one would need. Many people live in concrete houses and their children go to decent schools run by the United Nations and other charities. There is even a fully-operational clinic. It’s basically a small town.

The people there were welcoming and friendly, especially the children. They also wanted us to spread the word about their situation. One man who helped me around named Frank, told me his story of how he came in 1996 at the age of 11, separated from his parents, with whom he has not seen since. In the time that he’s been here, he has graduated from high school and now works as a volunteer with the Welfare Council. I’m still amazed that people who have gone through so much can be so optimistic and warm.

Currently, there is a presidential election vote happening in Liberia, a historical one for a people who have suffered for so long. The main candidate is George Weah, a high school dropout who became one of Europe's greatest footballers, so I don’t know if there’s much hope for Liberia in the immediate future, but it will be a long march to democracy and perhaps this will be the first step.

Bats and Rastafarians

To be honest, Accra can get on my nerves after a while. It’s a busy, noisy, smelly and disorganized mass of people and concrete buildings connected by random highways and backstreets that are filled with cars and tro-tros that only add to the ambiance.

Sometimes the hostel can get that way too. Given that I still don’t feel at home at the Hostel or in my room, (my big project for next semester: stop living like I’m at a hotel and settle in!) I like to get out on weekends as much as possible. I have yet to remain in Accra for two weekends in a row!

It appears that Meghan B. and Catherine felt the same, because they went away for 10 days for a “working vacation” at XOFA, a project in the wilderness of Volta Region. The basic idea behind it was to replant a deforested area with mango trees and other crops. This eventually became an eco-tourist venture (read: hotel without electricity) that is mostly run by Rastafarians and offers lots of activities for people who want to live the simple life.

The place itself is pretty neat, with lots of nice huts, seashell walkways, beautiful flowers and Rasta atmosphere. Did I mention that it sits on Lake Volta, Africa’s largest man-made lake? The best part is that it is bilharzia-free, so you can go swimming without worrying about getting worms! The water was warm and fresh, like being in a nice pool without the chlorine. One of the best swims I’ve ever had, period.

It’s quite a beautiful place, but it’s pretty expensive by Ghanaian standards, so the budget-conscious would be setting themselves up to be disappointed with the value of staying there. So Meghan and Catherine spent over a week there planting mango trees and helping educate the children at the local village For their volunteering, they got half off accommodations and food. You be the judge of whether that’s a good deal.

Anyways, Meghan called me on Thursday and told me to bring as many people to XOFA to help out for a day… something about a “bat house”. So a bunch of the girls came with me the next evening to check it out…

(Building the bat houses)

Apparently, the school was quickly becoming unusable because of a bat infestation. Our basic project for Saturday was to 1) rid the schoolhouse of nesting bats, 2) cover the area between the roof and walls so that the bats couldn’t re-enter and 3) make alternate accommodations for the bats. It felt like a bizarre Trading Spaces / development project that had to be finished in a day. (Note to self: pitch that idea to TLC)

So we acquired netting and nails for the bat-proofing, made a butterfly net out of sticks, rope and the net and made bat houses out of branches, sticks and nails. We went over and were followed by all of the children in the village (all mud huts and no electricity), so Lisa and Julianna played with them while we went to work on getting the bats out, putting up the netting and erecting the bat houses on a pole. Able-bodied locals participated with us and it was only right to have them in on the process, since it’s for their school.

(Hilde and I relaxing)

Long story short, we did a pretty good job considering our time constraints. I don’t know if we helped solve their problems. It was my first experience with a community development project (albeit not a “real” one) and it kinda felt good to get something positive done and feel like we took an idea and made it work.

We celebrated by having dinner and drinks on the shore whilst watching lightning off in the distance. Afterwards, we shared some stories, songs and lemongrass tea with our new Rasta friends King and Cha Cha (AKA "Batman") The experience was great for the body soul and methinks I’ll take a week off next semester with Meghan to do it all again.

Tickets BOOKED. Sweet deal!

Well, it's taken about a week and a lot of blood, sweat and tears, but I finally did it... I booked my flight to London! So, I take the red-eye from Accra to London-Gatwick for the night of December 16-17. Then I'll take the bus to Heathrow to meet my darling Maleaha in the morning and then (if all goes according to plan) we shall set off by train across Wales and take a ferry to the Emerald Isle.

From there, we will find our way to Dublin and meet up with Anthony and Rob (friends all the way back from our Brother André days) and crash at their place for the next while. It'll then be three weeks of relaxing, exploring the city and even the countryside, with Christmas and New Year's there to boot! I'm really excited for this Chrismas, because I didn't want to spend it in Africa. I really wanted to go some place cold and familiar, yet still have an adventure!

This way, I'll have a Christmas abroad with my love and great friends who we go way back with - the closest thing to family I can find on this side of the pond! I know it'll be great for all of us, since Rob and Anthony are probably going to need some old friends to get them through the holidays. I'm so stoked!

Here Comes The Rain Again...

If there's one thing that I really haven't gotten used to, it's the erratic weather patterns in West Africa. While the dry season will be upon us in about a month (i.e. it will be hot, dry and sunny for months on end), we're still getting all kinds of strange weather. I list today as an example:

This morning the sun was on at full blast and it was bloody hot. In fact, one of my favourite things to say on a daily basis is, "It's so damned HOT in this country!" On the upside, that is the best time to do laundry, since clothes dry in a snap. So I did a giant load before going to school to do some errands.

By 1pm, the clouds rolled in and it came down in buckets for about half an hour, with some terrific thunder to boot. Everything started flooding and it was quite mucky on campus after that. I came back to the hostel to find that my then-dry clothes had become soaked again and that the power had gone out. Jolly good.

I had one other important meeting to go back to campus for and while walking there, the black clouds rolled in, followed by showers. Thank goodness I wore a hoodie...

The one redeeming part of the day was the walk home at around 5PM, when the already obscured sky was beginning to get dark. Seeing the dark grey sky, wet leaves and smelling the post-rain atmosphere honestly reminded me of a cold, rainy October evening walking home down Sunnyside Ave in Ottawa. I felt strangely at home walking home in this weather, as my iPod played the Smiths' "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out".

And you know what? It rained today in Ottawa. Eerie.

Drunken Obruni Kareoke Party!

Last night I went with some friends to Asasse Pa, the best and cheapest vegetarian restaurant in Accra. It's run by Ratafarians and we go there pretty much every week (some even more). They've got veggie burgers, crazy apple salads, tofu kebabs and soy ice cream - and it's all delicious. All of the Carleton girls are vegetarian/vegan back home and I think they're trying to indoctrinate me. (and frankly, it's working!) It's also right next to a bar, which is just fine by us.

After dinner, we went for coffee at the Paloma Hotel. If you know where to get it, there's delicious brewed coffee to be found in Accra, but it's so hard to find. There aren't many people who can afford real coffee and so the vast majority is a crystal mix made by Nescafé, which is pretty dull. I've also been getting a taste for good coffee since I got here. Anyways, we met a UN worker from India named Jay, who had some great stories and bought us a round and some fries to boot.

Then we entered the lion's den: The British-owned and mostly-white Champs Bar. It's all decked out in sports banners and jerseys and Friday nights is the night of the fine Japanese art of karaeoke. After more new friends and more free drinks, I went up with the girls to sing "Breakfast at Tiffany's", asking everyone what their favourite movies were. Later on, I went up with my British metalhead-friend Festus and we moshed out Green Day's "American Idiot". I went pretty nuts and my neck still hurts. Next time, we'll own that place. Totally.

PS - yes Dave and Jeff, at this place, you can sing "Africa" by Toto.

African Education

Hey kids,

It's been a few days, but it doesn't mean I haven't had anything to talk about. More that I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like to. I still have to talk about all the crazy things that go around here, like taxis, Ghanaian drinks, the crazy people I live in the hostel with... but I've still got over six months left, so we'll take it at an easy pace.

So it's coming on late October and school has kicked into high gear, if you can call it that. There's maybe 3 weeks left for most of us and after that, there's maybe a few weeks before exams start in late November, so everybody's making plans to travel around. I may kick around here for a bit to study for Arabic, which is the only class that I'm genuinely concerned about. While there's a lot of newbies to the language like myself, there are also many native speakers who already know everything, but have to take it anyways (again, love that bureaucracy!). How can the only 1st year class that I'm taking be the most difficult, I ask you?

As I recently wrote to my exchange program director at Carleton, school here is pretty different. Some classes are incredibly fascinating and I'm learning a lot from them and others I couldn't care less about if I tried. The level of education here isn't nearly as high as at your average Western university, because in Africa, educational resources are scarce (the library needs an overhaul... card catalogues? Come on!), the bureaucracy can get in the way of teaching (you have to register at each individual department on paper, so one won't know what the other is doing) and the universities here simply can't afford to pay the salaries that ones back home can (average annual wage is something like $6,000 US), so truly brilliant professors are fewer and further between. The best ones are patriotic Africans like my Colonialism and African Response professor Dr. Addo-Fenning and Dr. Akosua K. Darkwah, an angry, young African feminist who teaches Globalization and the Developing World. She is scary, but she takes no prisoners, and they need that here!

Of course, if we were here simply to learn, we'd be disappointed. If you want to go on an exchange simply for academic purposes, go to Europe. What's more important for us is not what we learn, but how we're learning it. I already know globalization, but seeing the view from below is so much more refreshing and insightful than reading a book. African history needs to be taught by Africans who can see how the same mistakes that were made a hundred years ago are still being repeated. Even my Management of NGOs class, which I don't particularly enjoy very much, has shown me exactly how the future bureaucrats of Ghana work and how they think. I feel that even though I may not be learning as much academically as I would be back home, I'm learning so much more from reading between the lines and understanding the African mentality.

Joe put it best: We're here for nine months and - at least for this semester - our role right now is simply to be sponges and absorb all of these experiences. Maybe next semester, we will be have enough information and experience to be able to turn it into something productive and we will be able to contribute to society, but even if we don't, at least we will have learned so much more about the world from being here.

So remember kids:
1. It's a big world, go and some of it.
2. BE THE SPONGE.

Shai Hills Adventure

Ah the fine art of wanting to get away for a weekend, picking a spot and seeing what happens. If you haven't noticed, I do that a lot...

So this time around it was myself joining the Carleton girls (Adrienne, Hannah, Lisa and Meghan) in going about 30km North of Tema (the Mississauga of Accra) to the Shai Hills Wildlife Reserve. We left Saturday morning via tro-tro and got there in a few hours.

(Above: On the road with Meghan, Hannah, Lisa and Adrienne)

We stayed at the Shai Hills Resort Hotel, a young and ambitious complex in the middle of nowhere and the priciest place I've stayed at so far. ($20 for a room? Outrageous!) Parentheses aside, it's pretty decent, with nice rooms, showers and TV - although the beds are pretty tough. After a Bollywood movie of the week, we had some lunch and kicked around for a while. Hannah and I walked to the nearest village and were mistaken as:
1. Husband and wife
2. Peace Corps workers
3. Members of the Jesus Christ Church of Latter Day Saints.

Awoken at 6AM, we headed out to the reserve for some early-morning game viewing. Unfortunately on the way there, it started to rain. A lot. Then the thunder and lightning started...

No matter, it cleared up a bit and we got a guide to take us out (ask for the student rate when you do). We saw a troop of baboons near the entrance (Meghan had her Jane Goodall clothes on, which made it even funnier) and a crocodile poking its eyes and nose out of a watering hole. We even saw cattle on the horizon... which meant that they were grazing on protected land, so our intrepid guide Suleyman left us in the wilderness for "small-small" (a bit), which after 45 minutes, we got sick of and went home. Brunch at the hotel was awesome - omlettes, oatmeal, tea, toast and jam. I totally recommend the resort for food and service, if not for their crappy beds.



Now, considering we came out for wildlife and spent all of an hour and a half seeing it, it seemed to be a bust. But hark, Hannah was told that the Bat Cave was a sight to be seen! So in the afternoon we hopped on back, got another guide and made our way down to the cave. The savannah was beautiful and it seemed like we could be anywhere in Africa. On the way, we saw a herd of Cobb's antelope on the horizon! They got spooked and all ran away, but it was something to see, regardless. A fair hike later, we got to the base of the hill and climbed our way into the bat cave, also the former palace for the Shai Hills people. Now there are bats all over Accra, but it was really awesome to be in a real bat cave... the sounds and sights of thousands of bats buzzing around, the funky guano.


And the icing on the cake: the name of our guide for the bat cave was Alfred. Get it?

Anyways, we tried to get a tro-tro back to the city at sunset and ended up piling in the cab of a guy's pickup truck. His picking us up saved us probably two hours of travelling and he took us all the way back to campus! All in all, it was a nice weekend trip and was like seeing a mini-Mole National Park for very few cedi.

Pancakes and Coffee and Toast, Oh My...

Today I woke up feeling a little bit crusty, realizing that I had spent a fair bit more last month than I had realized. So for the next month, I'll try the budgeting game and see where all of this cash goes... (don't worry Mom and Dad, I'll be okay for the time being)

So what can a poor boy do to elevate his mood in the morning?

Make pancakes. That's what he can do.

And that's what I did. I used the mix and syrup bought from Koala and invited a bunch of people to the kitchen to partake. And as with Tostitos, when you have pancakes, you have a party. This one quickly escalated into an all-out brunch. Meaghan's partner Cara had flown in the night before and with her came all of the Western goods that we missed in Africa. We made coffee with fresh ground roast, enjoyed some whole wheat health bread and, la piece de resistance: my long-awaited toaster! I was so thrilled to finally have it. So we had tons of pancakes, fresh coffee and toast with strawberry jam.

It was really awesome to have everything come together so perfectly: I brought the stuff and started it off, Lisa brought the eggs and oil, Adrienne got the pancake-making system to a science, Cara and Meaghan brought the coffee and bread, Lucas fixed the toaster and we all sat around and had a great time. And to boot, I plugged my iPod into some speakers, so we listened to Broken Social Scene and Modest Mouse as we ate. We may as well have been back home!

I hope that this starts something weekly, like some sort of Friday morning pancake breakfast kind of thing.

Yum.

Two Months and Still Chuggin' Along

Alright! So I've been in Ghana for a whole two months and while that doesn't seem like an important milestone, it definitely feels good to have under my belt. The first month was all about adjusting to African life and the second was more about finding a groove. I'm still finding that groove, but I feel like I have a better picture of where I am and where I want to be in general while here.

The biggest part about the two-month milestone is that I can see the road ahead and I feel like I can get through until May. I've got about two months until I head out to Ireland for a few weeks, then I'll keep on travelling until the end of January, when classes pick up again. Then it'll be four months and I'm back in the Great White North. (just in time for summer!) So there, it looks like a piece of cake.

Contrast that with my American friends, almost all who are here for one semester. For most of them, they're at their halfway mark because they'll be returning to the US for Christmas. At least us Canadians can sit back and relax while they try and fit in all of the Africa they can in a few weekends. Either way, a lot of them have become good friends, so I want to hang out with them as much as possible. Apparently next semester it's all British students and they have a reputation for being pretty anti-social. Thank God for Canadians!

Ghanaian Food

So what the hell have I been eating all this time? The food here is a little bit different - no burgers, no nachos and no Kraft Dinner (apparently in the US it's known as "Mac and Cheese"). What is a lonely Canuck to do?

The local dishes in Ghana are almost exclusively rice-based, which is odd, since rice is not a traditionally local crop. Regardless, it's all they seem to eat here and they have a hundred ways of preparing it. For you vegetarians out there, Ghanaian dishes also tend to come with either chicken (always fried) and fish, which is cooked, fried, or dried. I might also add that the fish here is not big tasty salmon or Arctic char that you find in the supermarket. Rather, it's locally caught tilapa or something else small and not healthy-looking. We never eat the fish here. Another caveat: food is often cooked in fish oil, so you never really know. Even if you say "no meat, please" they will just smile and nod while heaping tons on.

Ghanaian food (according to my guidebook) has a reputation for being the most interesting in West Africa. And for you other West African countries, I pity you greatly. Joe stated that while he eats the local food often, he will not miss it and I'm inclined to agree, for the most part. There's simply way too much rice and not enough vegetables in the average Ghanaian diet. Anyways, here's a rundown of the basic meals, all of which can be purchased for cheap at a local stand:

Wayke (pronounced "wat-chay") - The first thing that I ate while here, it's a dark rice-and-beans combo that is quite tasty and spicy. It reminds me a bit of Trinidadian palau, which Maleaha's mom makes when I visit, so in a way it's kind of a comfort food. They put some weird fish/pepper sauce over it and shito, a tasty, spicy peper sauce (that's right... laugh it up, children, it's "shito"). I recommend adding some fried plantains, salad or a bit of chicken.

Jollof - is a similar rice dish that is light brown-coloured, less spicy and interchangeable with wayke.

Fufu - is a gelatinous rice ball that is served in a meat or fish sauce (ask for without fish heads). Making it is actually suprisingly difficult: someone fills a small bucket of it, pounds it for a while with a log and lets it ferment for a while before serving it. It's mushy and sticky at the same time and the locals eat it with their hands, so dig in if you don't want to look like an idiot!

Banku - is largely the same deal, but a little more solid and dry on the inside, so it absorbs the soup/sauce better than fufu.

Kenke - the most solid member of the pounded rice family (although I don't believe it has a latin name yet), it's served in a giant leaf with the sauce, for some reason. A friend from Vermont compared it to mashed potatoes... whatever makes it go down easier!

Red-Red - can be any colour of the rainbow, but the gist of it is that it's beans and some mystery soup that's mixed together. What makes it special is when they add some powdered cornmeal, which makes it more solid and forkable. The icing on the cake is the fried plantains that they add to it, which makes it sweet. Red-red is considered a lunch food, so early afternoon is the best time to get it.

Kellewelle - is fried plantain that's chopped up into little bits for a snack. For you obrunis, plantains are like giant bananas that aren't really tasty until you do something crazy like fry them in palm oil.

Yams - A traditional staple of West Africa, they're giant African potatoes that are either boiled (not bad, like boiled or baked potato), or - of course - fried. The latter method is my favourite, because fried yams taste like thick french fries, so when I get them, I bring salt and ketchup with me and feel like I'm back home! Now, if only they had hamburgers here...

Fried Egg on Bread - Basically an egg sandwich, for some reason, they eat it here morning, noon and night. They scramble it, add bits of tomatoes, peppers and onions, fry it all and put it on a bun. BYO Ketchup.

There's a basic rundown of local dishes here. Some are pretty decent and some aren't good at all. But hey, chacun son gout, as the French say. Ghanaians love this stuff, which is evident since nobody seems to make anything else. Even my roommate Patrick gets banku from his mother, makes his own rice and loves it! Actually, to be fair, like any dish, it does taste better when it's homemade.

If these foods don't strike your fancy, one of the great things about being here is the cheap and delicious fresh fruit! Depending on what's in season, there are local bananas, oranges, tangerines, papaya ("paw-paw"), pineapples, apples from South Africa and - my ultimate favourite - mangoes, AKA my 5,000 cedi-a-day addiction. They aren't in season from Septemeber to November, so I've been in a deep funk for a while now, but it'll be a beautiful day when I can get my hands on one...


So there's the basic rundown on Ghanaian cuisine. I haven't even talked about what they have to drink here and where us Westerners frequently go to for "comfort" food (heck, even for "nutritious" food). Those posts will come soon. I hope you enjoyed this one, Kashina!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Well, today is Canadian Thanksgiving, our oddly-timed answer to American Thanksgiving. Back home, it's always been a big deal for my family and we'd all get together and have the traditional dinner: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans and of course: apple and pumpkin pie with ice cream. This year I was conspicuously absent, but at least I had a great weekend with Joe and got to talk to everyone on the phone, hearing their voices for the first time in two months.

So I guess being in Africa, while Thanksgiving doesn't have the same meaning that it does back home, I definitely feel like this year I have the most to be thankful for: loving family, devoted girlfriend, great friends in two cities, all of the amenities that Markham and Ottawa have to offer as well as a luxurious standard of living. The Creator has most definitely blessed us beyond comprehension.

In Accra, you realize that only a microscopic fraction of the population gets to enjoy a life as privileged as we have in the West. Even someone "just scraping by" in Canada really has it made by Ghanaian standards. Here (especially in the city), people are hungry and often living on under $1 per day, many children can't afford to go to school and electricity and sanitation are for the privileged. I can't stress how thankful I am this year to be living the life that I do.

On top of this, Maleaha called me today to say that she will be meeting me in Ireland for Christmas! I've been on Cloud Nine ever since. I truly have a wonderful girlfriend that I wouldn't trade for anything. Could this perhaps be the best Thanksgiving ever? I think so.

Peace, love and understanding, y'all...
Mr. Obruni

Adventures with Joe

So Saturday morning I'm awoken at 4:30AM by my roommate Patrick and his girlfriend Meredith, who boisterously burst into our bedroom after a prayer vigil that clearly went far into the morning and must have been pretty nuts. (Oh those crazy evangelicals!) How lucky was he that I had set my alarm for 4:45AM to get up in time to catch a bus to Winneba (Westward, halfway to Cape Coast). So I got up and left without incident. Regardless, I'm currently looking into a single room for next semester.

The bus is for the Student Representative Council of the University (or SRC for those in the know). It was free - and an hour late, of course - but we arrived with plenty of time until the ceremony began - which, was also late. The big event? The swearing in of the new president of the National Union of Ghanaian Students (NUGS), kinda like the CFS back home. The new prez, a firebrand named Samuel, had a great speech and really threw down the gauntlet, using taboo words like "comrades" and making it clear that he was staying out of politics. (The outgoing president having been in the pocket of the ruling party) Afterwards, I met up with Joe and we had some fufu for lunch, checked out the beaches, and went to a celebratory beach party.

At the beach party, we sat around a table and had Guinness with activists, former politicians and the new women's issues executive on NUGS. We talked on everything from student issues to abortion and it was the most intellectually stimulating conversation I've had with Ghanaians in two whole months of being there. It appears that Joe and I have been firmly entrenched in the student activist movement in Ghana, all in the span of about 10 days. This looks to be an exciting year!

As dark came, we rode Joe's moto (i.e. scooter) and stayed at the Lagoon Lodge in Winneba. It's a nice place, looks kinda like a Florida beach house and they have good drinks (try the pineapple-orange juice, it's fantastic), although food was a bit pricey. We talked with Germans, an Austrian and Dutchwoman, the latter of which is volunteering in the Liberian refugee camp. I might check that one out... In the morning, we explored a nearby beach and vowed to later climb the local mountain.

We took the moto down the empty highway to Kokrobite and sang some tunes. I must say that I definitely get why Joe and Jon have motos, because they're a blast to ride. I got a lesson from Joe and I'm pretty decent on it. Anyways, we checked into Big Millie's resort, a cheap, well-decorated and environmentally-friendly Rasta resort. It's got so much character that the nearby hotels have no business, really. They have huts, but we opted for the cheap outdoor mosquito-net platform. The beach there is the best I've seen so far in Ghana and it wasn't too busy for a Sunday afternoon. Joe and I played in the waves, sat on the beach and read into the evening.

Dinner was bruschetta and pizza over deep conversation at the nearby Italian-run hotel. We spent the evening back at Big Millie's with a box of wine. It being Canadian Thanksgiving, my entire family was gathered at my Aunt Patty and Uncle Sean's with me being the black sheep in Africa. Phone reception was terrible, but I got to speak with everyone for about 5 minutes and that's all I needed. If there was any time and place that I could talk to them all and not feel homesick, it was after a great evening with the sea breeze in the air.

We woke up after sunrise and had an early-morning swim, a great big breakfast (they have everything) and took the moto back into Accra, weaving through traffic jams all the way there. Any trip with Joe is an adventure and this one was no different. A little education, a little relaxation. Sweet.


Oh and by the way, the Ghanaian football team beat Cape Verde something like 4-0 in the final World Cup qualifier, which means that they will be going to the big show in Germany next year. Go Black Stars!

Oasis In My Desert pt. 2

While I did go to the Koala Market today for the first time in two weeks (bought: "New African" magazine, butter, pita bread, Aunt Jemima pancake mix and syrup: all for about $10), the big event was this evening at the Canadian High Commission...

In an attempt to find out if they were going to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving on Monday, I called the High Commission (embassy in a country of the British Commonwealth) and asked what events were going on these days. They said that tonight (the first Thursday of every month) there would be a "Canada Club" party, open basically to anyone. Sweet.

We got there in the evening and the security guards (Ghanaian) were happy to let us in. The CHC is pretty well-funded, so there are lovely gardens, a tennis court, a pool, patio furniture, stereo and even foosball table. Tonight, they were barbecuing burgers and hot dogs. And it's been damn near two months since I had a hamburger. It was overpriced (as a taxpaying citizen, shouldn't I get my burgers for free?), but it was sooo good.

There were many Canadians of there from many walks of life (diplomats, students, NGO workers, businesspeople) who had been in the country from a week to two years - and even some Americans, Brits and Germans. We met two Army advisors from the US assisting the Ghanaian Armed Forces (yes, they're legit) and we're going to make Mexican food with them sometime very soon.

The moral of the story: When travelling, check out your local embassy for events. We had a great time and even though there's nothing going on for Thanksgiving, I'm glad we went.

Fair Trade and the Fair

This one has been a little late in the making, but a rainstorm last night cut our internet connection...

So Monday night was the first night of a week-long Food Fair at the basketball courts on campus. All kinds of vendors set up around them, selling food, fruit, ice cream, shoes and even Ghanaian designer clothing (which, since it's made in Ghana, is worth a second look). However, the big attraction for me was the main event for the evening:

The big show was a forum for the Ghanaian Peasant Farmers' Association, the main farmers' union in the country. Leaders have been travelling around Ghana, talking to peasants in giant forums (apparently an uncommon event here, so attendance was huge in the villages) to hear their grievances about how unfair world trade rules and practices have been hurting them. The leaders were on the "Road to Hong Kong", which means they came to Accra with all of these farmers' proposals for how to make their lives easier. Their goal is to speak with the Ghanaian Minister for Trade, who will be at the next World Trade Organization (WTO) meeting in Hong Kong this December. Hopefully he will listen to them and with other Ministers of Trade for impoverished nations, try to change the rules for trading to help them.

The speakers were great and I'm definitely learning so much more from hanging out with them than sitting in class (Joe introduced me to them and we had some chats). Unfortunately, there was no advertising for it whatsoever, so attendance was sparse (most of us found out from Joe, who had told us earlier in the day about it). On the upside, it was very informative and when I closed my eyes and breathed in, it smelled like the Markham Fair back home... popcorn and hot dogs! No livestock, though...

The next day was the big rally in Holy Gardens near Nkrumah Circle (the main traffic circle in town). I waited around for a long time until it started (as mentioned), but when it did, there was a brass band on a flatbed truck, dozens of cyclists and two busloads of pumped-up students that arrived and filled up the park. I'd say there was between 300-400 people there and while it wasn't a big rally in numbers, the media came out in full force to cover the event. So we can be sure that the Minister for Trade DEFINITELY knows that they're here. On the way home with Benji (a really cool guy from Arkansas who is all about the fair trade) and the students on the bus, we talked, chanted and let on only other students on the way back to Legon. It was quite the party.

Anyways, if the ideas of fair trade aren't yet clear to you, I'll try to articulate them more clearly in the coming months as they become relevant. If you want to learn more about it, Oxfam UK has a good introduction to fair trading. And always great is Fairtrade Carleton's super-fantastic website.

Learning to Take it Easy

I've been here for about 8 weeks or so, but something I'm still adjusting to is the pace of Ghanaian life and...

Case in point:

Exhibit A - I have a presentation on Thursday for Management of NGOs class. My group was supposed to meet yesterday (Monday) to iron out the details of the presentation. Yet I was the only one who made it to the meeting. I didn't need to take that crap from those future bureaucrats, so I'll let them take care of it.

Exhibit B - Today I was supposed to have my big meeting with a fellow at Third World Network Africa, an NGO that deals with issues like trade policy, gender issues and the environment. This excites the development student in me greatly. Unfortunately the contact that I spoke with 10 days ago to book the meeting for today is apparently on vacation for the entire week! Brilliant. I only cut two classes and walked for over a 1/2 hour both ways to see him. So what did I do about it? Shrugged my shoulders and made a note to come back next week.

Exhibit C - Later today I went to Holy Gardens near Kwame Nkrumah Circle to see a large rally for Ghanaian peasant farmers (more explained in the next post). It was supposed to start at 2pm and I got there early. The place was literally empty and I kept making calls to Joe and Ken the activists to find out where the hell the rally was. I walked around for over an hour making conversation with some interesting individuals and freaking out. Then a bit after 3, suddenly a giant convoy of cyclists, busloads of students and a truck with a brass band in the bed roll onto the field! Suddenly it was a party in less than 5 minutes and everyone was going nuts.

The moral of the story? Relax, Ghanaians have their own pace of life. Maleaha says it's the same in Trinidad. Frankly, with this lax and carefree attitude, I can see why Ghana is behind the developed world!

...but maybe it's not my place to say. At least they seem to enjoy it!

The Hills Are Alive With The Sound of Ghanaians...

I just got back to the University of Ghana's production of the "Sound of Music". The acting and singing were pretty good, but there's only so much you can do on an empty stage and modest budget to recreate 1930s Austria. To be honest, it could have used more Alps.

An unexpected treat: Given that the musical is set just before World War II, it was interesting to see black Nazis, something Rogers and Hammerstein probably never thought would happen.

Lisa: The university is putting on a production of the "Sound of Music" this week.
Me: So... there's going to be black Nazis?

On the future

I haven't been this scared
In a long time
And I'm so unprepared
So here's your valentine...
-Blink 182

Hey everyone, I know the updating has been kinda thin lately, but it's not because I've been bored, but quite the opposite! To be honest, I've been getting busier, spending more time studying at the library for Arabic and a few small assignments due for next week. I've been spending entire days on campus doing work and sifting through Ghana's infamous bureaucracy and it's all stressing me out, but I think that's part of the process of integrating here...

I'm getting stressed out about a lot of things, I find. Since I've been in Ghana for about six weeks, I've had a lot of time to learn and grow (and I'm definitely doing both), but also a lot of time to contemplate my future here, when I get home and what I want to do with my life. And I've been probably thinking too much!

The thing about the future is that you can't see it, no matter what sort of educational or vocational path you try to take. I think that a lot of university students feel somewhat like myself on this one. For me, it's terrifying, but sometimes it's that healthy terror (like what one gets when riding in an African taxi) that makes life interesting. For example, I've got my heart set on getting a Masters degree one day, which I can probably afford. Where do I want to go to get it? Do I really want to study development? I still have a very small list of accomplishments that can be useful in the world of development as it stands, but I need more to be considered for a job. I'd love to have a job with a group like OXFAM or Engineers Without Borders and help people in whatever capacity that I can. Will I ever get a job doing something like that? I really can't say. I'll bust my ass to try and get to that point, but if that falls through, what else could I put my talents to? What talents do I even have?

I also worry about how I will provide for myself and family. Maleaha is studying social work, and between the salaries of a developer and social worker, we wouldn't exactly be living the high life! But if that wasn't sustainable, I'd be fine having a job in the Canadian government doing policy or doing whatever, as long as I could provide for my family's needs. My parents did such a fantastic job with me that I feel an obligation to do just as well - and that's a tall order!

Going to Africa was the right decision, for sure. While I deeply miss Ottawa, Markham, friends, family (my heart aches for you all) and the comforts that I've enjoyed all my life, I'm learning by leaps and bounds about how the world really works - and it's mind-boggling. I also believe firmly that I'm being called to be here. Many Christian missionaries talk about a "calling" and I'm starting to understand how they feel, even if I don't think that God is giving me a comprehensive plan to follow.

The important thing for me to do now is not think too far ahead, because then I just get anxious. I have to take it a little bit at a time and now worry so much, because while I can steer myself in certain directions, I can't write out a script for my life. Maybe my calling is to help third world development, but maybe I'm just here to see things and be aware of them. Besides, I have to remind myself that I'm only 20 years old. I'll probably graduate at 22 and I don't think I'll rush myself into grad studies so soon. I have a lot of time to figure things out, in reality, so I shouldn't be putting so much pressure on myself.

On the upside, I have a meeting with a man from a group called Third World Network Africa, which deals with policy on trade, gender issues and the environment. I told him that I want to get involved and hopefully he'll be able to find me something. Is this what I've been waiting for? Maybe so, maybe not. I guess we'll see. Tomorrow never knows...