If You'd Rather Not Walk...

*car horn*
“Obruni, eroko ehen?”  White person, where are you going?
“Moroko Moree Junction.”  I’m going to Moree Junction.
“Bra!  Bra!”  Come! Come!

Getting around in Ghana is fun.  You can get pretty much go anywhere you like around town for under 2 cedi (equivalent to 1 USD).  You have three valid options for getting to where you need to go:  trotro, share taxi, dropping taxi.  Each has its own little quirks.

Trotro:  Trotros are big 10-15 passenger vans with a sliding door.  It’s the cheapest form of transportation and the most exciting.  Every trotro has a mate who is responsible for getting passengers, notifying the driver when to stop, collecting everyone’s fare, and quickly moving passengers in and out of the trotro.  The mate sits first row directly behind the passenger seat by the driver.  They keep their head out the window and call out the trotro’s route or do the hand signal.  If someone on the side of the road signals or calls to take the trotro, the mate bangs on the door to stop the driver.  The passenger is then hurried into the van and the process starts over.  To get from my house to town by trotro is 70 pesewas (35 cents).  Things get interesting when the trotro can’t stop where you are because the police are monitoring (and that part of the road is zoned for no stopping) so you have to run to keep up with the trotro and jump in when they feel they’re far enough from the police not to be caught.

Share Taxi:  Share taxis are a little more expensive than a trotro and generally much more straight forward and less stressful.  Share taxis are normal four passenger (five including the driver) cabs that drive a specific route and like a trotro, pick up passengers anywhere along the way.  The driver will put out his hand in a way that means, “Where are you going?  Do you want to take a car?”  To pick a car, you signal where you’re going and the driver will stop if he’s going to the same place.  Make sure you double check where the car is headed and if the car is empty, that the driver understands you want a share taxi and not dropping.  To take a share taxi from my house to town is 1 cedi (50 cents). 

Dropping Taxi:  If you’re nervous about one of those two, have a lot of cash on hand, in a hurry, and/or going someplace not on a trotro or taxi route, you can take a dropping taxi.  You signal you want a dropping taxi by repeatedly pointing at the ground in front of you.  If a cab is empty, the driver will stop and you begin negotiations.  You tell him where you’re going and ask him how much he’ll charge.  Around Cape Coast, you shouldn’t pay more than 5 cedis ($2.50).  If it’s obvious you are a foreigner, he’ll quote you something around 10 cedis.  Just laugh and tell him you’ll give him three and then settle on four or five.  Bargaining in Ghana isn’t contentious and you shouldn’t make it so.  From there it’s just like a normal taxi you’d take in the states.  They’ll take you exactly where you’re going and you pay them what you agreed.

That will get you around locally.  You can also take a trotro for long distance for pretty cheap.  From Cape Coast to Accra it’s 9 or 10 cedis ($5).  If you want to pay 13 cedis ($6.50) you can take a Ford car which is similar to a trotro, except a little roomier, in better condition, air conditioned and a bit faster.  They also always happen to be made by Ford.  You can also take the MMT (Metro Mass Transit) which is like a Greyhound bus.  I’ve never taken it, but I’ve generally heard positive things.

Driving in Ghana is something else altogether.  Speed limits are not taken seriously and if you know you can go faster than the car in front of you, you are welcome to drive in the other lane (keep in mind 90% of the roads in Ghana are two lanes, so you’re driving in the lane of oncoming traffic) and pass them.  Drivers brake fast and start faster.  People honk not to express annoyance or fear, but just to let everyone know that they’re there.  If you’re going around a blind corner or not sure if someone sees you as they are turning, just give your horn a tap.  Trotro and taxi drivers also honk to let you know they have room.  If you’re crossing the street and a car is coming, they’ll honk to let you know you should move or you’ll be smashed (because in Ghana, cars have the right of way). 

And that’s transportation for you.

School Life

"We will beat the Form Ones when they come.”

“What?  That’s sounds terrible.  Why would you do that?”

“Oh, no it’s not.  The Seniors did it to us when we came.  It’s nice.”

“Nice?  I don’t get you.”

“When you go back home, you have to have stories to tell to your friends.  It’s School Life.”

In my school uniform

I’ve been a student at Aggrey Memorial A.M.E. Zion Senior High School for about a month now and really enjoyed it for the most part.  It’s a three year high school and I was placed in Form 2 (second year).  This placement wasn’t so much based on my academic ability, but rather out of practicality.  The Form Ones started much later than everyone else and have all sorts of restrictions for a while since they’re brand new and the Form Threes spend the last half of the year preparing to take their final exams (WASSCE).  So I’m in Form Two.  For the most part, I’m miles, or should I say kilometers, ahead of my class.  This is actually a very positive thing because it means I can forget about the subjects I’ve already covered and just focus on the newer subjects like Fante and such. 

I’m learning what School Life really means.  It’s often referred to and I’m slowly piecing it together.  I’m mostly excluded from it because I don’t live in the boarding house, but I can give you a small idea. 

School Life involves going to bed around midnight and waking up around 3:30 in the morning because you’re sharing a bathhouse and ironing board with about 150 other students. 

School Life is learning from your School Mother or Father and being disciplined by them. 

School Life is trying to live like a teenager while still giving the faculty the impression you’re following all the rules. 

On your birthday, School Life is getting mixtures poured on you or your bed and having everyone give you a friendly beating.  (When I learned about this one, I could hear my brother’s voice chiming in, “It’s a love pat!”) 

A group of Aggrey students at the
 basketball tournament

School Life is going for morning prep at 5:30 and evening prep at 6:30.

And because this is School Life, the students embrace it.  Otherwise, what stories would you have to tell?

Me Ka Fante Kakra

I speak a little Fante

“Lisa Ama!”
“Yes Mum?”
“Lisa Ama!”
“Yes Mum!?”
“Lisa Ama!”
“Mereba!”  I’m Coming
*Lots of laughter*

So my Fante is coming along -- slower than convenient, but quick enough to not be discouraging.  A couple days ago Sammy and I met up and took a taxi into town.  It dropped us at central town and my mum’s laundry shop, our final destination, was a little farther from there.  We decided it was close enough though to not take another taxi, so we did what anyone who isn’t a boy scout would do: we asked directions. 

“Me pa wo kyew, Wiseway Cleaners ewohenfa?”  Please, where is Wiseway Cleaners?

Usually this was met with a laugh or a smile and then they would give us directions in English.  Occasionally though, the person didn’t think twice and started pointing and talking in Fante.  The trouble is, I don’t know the Fante words left and right yet…so I just gave a nervous smile and nodded.

“Me daase.”  Thank you

Another tricky thing about Fante is that it’s tonal.  Since I have never spoken a tonal language, two words which sound exactly the same mean completely different things.  The most frequent trouble I have with this is when I’m studying or reading for my classes back home and someone asks me, “Ere suasi?”  Are you learning?

Me re suasi -- Me re soasi

 “Me re soasi.”  I am carrying something on my head.

The only time this didn’t cause me trouble was when I actually did learn to carry something on my head.

Pounding the Fufu

“When you pound the Fufu, the plantain and the cassava mix together and cannot be separated.  That’s how it will be.  Our culture and your culture will mix to make Fufu.”

--Dad Joseph

I’ve now been in Ghana for just over one week.  I’ve been with my new family for just under one week.  Ghana is such a beautiful country—not only because of the scenery, but because of the culture.  When Edmond and Sandi, two AFS volunteers, dropped me off last Tuesday my new mother ran out to meet me with open arms.  “Akwaaba. You are welcome,” she said.

That’s how everyone is here.  I’ve never felt more sincere interest and concern from so many people as I have in my short time here. 

At Orientation in New York.
Left to right:  Sammy, Allie, Me,
Avery (our cultural resource), Audrey,
Imani, Lauren

Orientation was a good segway into my new life here.  It was ran by AFS volunteers and returnees and although most of the information was again repeated from our other orientations, it was good to hear it from the perspective of Ghanaians.  It also gave us a chance to really bond as a group.  I knew the other Americans: Sammy, Allie, Audrey, Lauren and Imani, but I also became good friends with the six Belgians and two French exchange students.  The day we went to meet our host families was bittersweet.  All of us were excited to meet our host families, but saying goodbye to each other was hard.

My host mom and my two host sisters

My family is wonderful though.  They let me jump right into life and try to help in any way they can.  Grace, my 12 year old sister, asked me to teach her Spanish, to which I happily agreed to do in exchange for Fante lessons.  (English may be the official language, but it’s not the spoken language.)  Mom, Dad, and I get along great.  I’m pretty sure we understand each other better every day.  Gladys, my four year old sister, thinks it’s so funny that she has an obruni (white person/foreigner) sister now.  She laughs about it all the time.  Yesterday she was stomping around the house yelling, “Sister Lisa! Sister Lisa!”  It’s hard to have a conversation with her though as her English isn’t very good yet and neither is my Fante.  We’re both learning.

My host sister (Gladys) and I

Everything is well.  A few days ago I got very homesick and it upset the whole household.  But I explained to them that nothing was wrong, I just missed home very much.  I think they got it in the end.  Mom Kate kept saying, “I know.  It’s natural.  It’s natural.”  She spent some time in the Ivory Coast so she knew a little what it was like. 

Since then up to this very moment, I’ve been very happy.  I’m adjusting to the different style of life and the family dynamic.  I’m working with my contact person to figure out when I’ll be starting school.  I’m taking it one day at a time and am grateful every day for the opportunity I was given to live here for this short time.

Pounding the Fufu on Sunday

The plantain and the cassava is mixing together to create a new kind of Fufu.

Here and There

Today I received the email I've been waiting for since April.  My host family information came just shy of one week before departure.  

My host family information

This was all that was sent to me.  My mind is running rampant with different scenarios of how next year will play out.  It will be a drastic change.

• Here, I have not once worked on a farm.*
  There, I might be living on one.
• Here, I am the youngest of seven.
  There, I'll be the oldest of three.
• Here, I live eleven and a half hours away from the ocean.
  There, I'll be on the coast.  

But I honestly couldn't be happier.  It's like finding out Santa Claus is real.
Ghana.  Cape Coast.  The Egyir Family.  8 days.  

8 days.

*I vaguely remember visiting a farm for a class field trip in the first grade.  I think I might have milked a cow.

It Wasn't the Orient...

...but rather orientation.  National Pre-Departure Orientation (the PDO as we so affectionately call it) was just this last week in Washington D.C.  

After a 5 hour flight I had finally landed.  Brianna (another student from Utah) and I got off the plane to meet up with the rest of the group.  We were all shuttled to the 4-H Center where we received our room assignments, a T-shirt, a tote bag and the official agenda for the next four days.  

Somewhere during my travels, my jeans had ripped.  I'm not usually one to be prepared, but by some form of inspiration I had packed a mending kit and so I spent the couple hours we had before the opening meeting repairing the slit.  I'm no seamstress, but it held and I was pretty happy.  (This really had nothing to do with orientation, but it was probably one of my finer accomplishments of the week...so I'm including it anyway.)

    o-ri-ent
      [v. ohr-ee-ent]
    to familiarize (a person) with new surroundings or circumstances, or the like

The purpose of the PDO was just that.  There are 65 of us.  We're placed among ten different countries.  Each country group was assigned a group leader who had recently returned from the country we were placed.  Logan was ours.  He was fantastic.  He was so open and honest about the culture and his experience in Ghana -- he was the most helpful person I've yet to talk to.

Lauren, Logan and Lisa
Logan was the group leader for  Ghana.

 Most of the PDO was spent with our group.  Someone from one of the implementing organizations (American Councils, AFS, Amideast) led a general discussion that we would discuss in context of our country specifically at the end.  We talked about every topic from how to be an effective ambassador, cultural norms, and health and safety.

The highlight of the PDO was our visit to the Ghanaian Embassy, the State Department and Lincoln Memorial. We met up with Ghanaian students who had spent this last school year in the US on the YES program.  They were all so friendly and so excited we were going to Ghana.  On the bus, Anyass (one of the Ghanaian students) turned to me and asked where in Ghana I'd be staying. I told him I didn't have a host family yet, to which he replied, "Oh don't worry! My family will host you.  I will take care of you!"

The YES students from Ghana and the YES Abroad
students going to Ghana outside the
Ghanaian Embassy.

He was joking...I think.

The Ghanaian Embassy was such an amazing experience.  We were served a traditional Ghanaian meal, which was delicious, but I could not even nearly finish.  I was surrounded by people who were so eager to help and answer all my questions.  And the ambassador was much more warm and relaxed than I had expected.  He insisted on us staying seated when he entered and as we introduced ourselves.  He'd laugh and make a joke here and there throughout the afternoon. Honestly, it felt more like a really big family dinner than anything else.

Afterward, we visited the State Department and listened to the man who started the YES program ten years ago speak to us.  He was such a charismatic and insightful speaker, which was also a surprise to me.  Perhaps I need to break down my stereotype of government officials. 

The YES Abroad group in front of the Lincoln Memorial

To top the day off, we visited the Lincoln Memorial and saw the reflecting pool.  Again, such a cool experience.  There I was, actually in the place I've seen so many pictures of.
  
 
The next day was filled with the orientation workshops and Saturday we all returned home.  

Well, not all of us.  The Thailand and India groups stayed in DC for another couple days for their Gateway Orientation and then they left for their host countries.  I leave in two months.  The time will go by so slowly in some regards, but so quickly in others.

The Countdown

When I was younger I began multiple tunnels in my backyard thinking that one of them would eventually lead to either China or Africa, depending on how straight of a tunnel I could dig.  Throwing dirt about with a plastic shovel meant for a sandbox was not only very ineffective, but also very tiring and my quest was abandoned.  A tunnel could not get me there, a written application and a couple of interviews would.

September 3rd.  I leave my home in 92 days for almost a year.  People ask me every day if I'm nervous or scared or excited or almost any other emotion, and the answer is yes.  Yes, I am all these things.  I'm also ready.  I'm ready to be thrown into a new culture with a new family, thinking I know so much and feel as though I don't know anything.  I'm ready to love the people of Ghana and make it my second home.  I'm ready to open this new chapter of my life.

Saying goodbye.  I'm seeing so many people for the last time before I go.  It's not an easy thing.  While I don't see my siblings much during the year since they all live in different states, leaving the country seems different.  I won't be there for Thanksgiving in San Francisco.  I probably won't be there for my sister's wedding.  I'll miss so much.  I'll have gained so much, but life will still go on here.  I can't change that.

So I make the most of every moment I have.  I saw my brother get his PhD from Harvard last week.  I'm flying to San Francisco on Wednesday.  I'm incredibly happy.  Every moment is *bittersweet.

92 days.

*Speaking of bittersweet, for my brother's birthday we all took little tablets which had extracts from a berry local to West Africa which made every bitter thing sweet.  Oh the analogies...