Ghanaian Cultural Teachings, Part 1: The tro-tro

A tro-tro is simply an old Hyundai van (and let me say, as an aside, that as the owner of a Hyundai myself, I was proud of the amount of marketing they did during the World Cup, right up there with Coke and the local cell phone providers here in Ghana) that has been retrofitted to fit no less than eleven passengers (and the driver) into the cargo space and to cart them around in an economic (and decidedly not ergonomic) fashion. It is essentially the public transportation system in Ghana. A tro-tro can be taken just a mile or two down the road (for about 20 pesawehs) or from Accra to our rural village Klikor for six Ghana cedes. Long distances in a tro-tro are unpleasant (for all the imaginable reasons that accompany long drives in cramped, outmoded vehicles with fellow passengers with varying levels of hygiene) but are unfortunately nearly unavoidable if you want to go to places outside of the main cities in Ghana. If Ghana has anything resembling what Westerners know as “emission standards” then they must be easily skirted by a quick bribe or simply largely ignored, because these old Hyundai vans belch out an ungodly amount of black smoke, which a passenger can’t help but intake during rush hour because every window in a tro-tro is kept open to allow for something resembling A/C.

Lindsay decides to share the health.

In case you didn’t catch it before, I am working at the orphanage with a specific task in mind – promoting health practices among the children. I think I may have been the first ever orphanage volunteer to apply for this position because there doesn’t seem to be much groundwork laid before me, nor does anyone seem to fully understand what I want to accomplish.

Before my leap across the pond, I was certain that my duties would be primarily focused on HIV/AIDS awareness. Having spent two weeks in the orphanage, I have shifted gears to something a little simpler: hand washing. Nobody washes their hands. Not ever. And how could they? There isn’t any place to do it, and with “bathroom” practices being a complete misnomer (not only do they not have proper toilets, but most people prefer a nearby wall to latrines), convincing people to change their ways hasn’t been easy.

PICTURES Part Deux (we’ve been hanging out with French people)

I love this picture. This is how the orphanage watches World Cup football. During the games, they rolled out the 12″ TV after dinner and we all sat outside under the stars cheering and getting bit by mosquitoes.

This past weekend we went to Cape Coast. One of the main attractions is a tour of the canopy of the national forest. We walked on these rickety rope bridges that were at times more than 150 feet above ground. Very Indiana Jones.

PICTURES!

Okay, we’re really sorry for the lack of pictures so far. Between camera difficulty and the slowest Internet connection on the planet, we’ve had trouble uploading.

This is our lunch/dinner meal. Sometimes we have rice instead of these cassava chunks. Sometimes we have a boiled egg.

These children live in one of the local villages. We had to determine whether or not they deserved subsidized lunches… most of them did not qualify.

A couple Yevus in Klikor

Wow. This week has been a whirlwind to say the least. I feel like we’ve been here for a month, and it’s only been a little more than a week. So much has happened, so bear with me… this post is about as organized as this country is.

We headed out Tuesday (yes, we were supposed to leave Monday, but as is often the case, there was a “misunderstanding”) for the orphanage (a village called Klikor), taking frightening trips in a mini van. Three and a half hours of heavy traffic and dirt roads with a maniac driver left us with our lives flashing before our eyes and our stomachs out of sorts.

The second we jumped out of the death wagon, we were greeted by about 100 little children who literally grabbed on to us from every angle and begged for our undivided attention. Though they don’t speak much English, the kids all know one phrase: “What is your name?” They ask it repeatedly, even if you’ve already told them the answer. If they’re satisfied, they might follow up with the same question about your mother, father, sisters and brothers, and they might ask how old you are. Even people on the streets yell “Yevu” (pronounced “Yeah-vo”), which means “white person” and ask what your name is. I guess it’s just a standard greeting.

They have definitely struggled with saying “Lindsay,” but they don’t have any trouble with “Clark.” However, because of Clark’s esteemed status as the older male, he is often referred to as “Mister Clark.” I have not received the same formality.

After finally escaping from the adorable little kids (by the way, the orphanage doubles as a school, and the orphans stay after hours), we settled into our room. It’s actually pretty nice all things considered – we have a bed, a table and a fan! Clark broke the bed trying to hang the mosquito net, and they hired a carpenter to build a new one on the spot.

Following a required “resting” period, we ate lunch. The orphanage feeds us three meals a day. Lunch was about 1/3 cup of spaghetti noodles, some sauce that kind of tastes like bolognese and chunks of slightly cooked cassava. Dinner was the same thing (minus the cassava, plus white rice and an egg), and every lunch and dinner has been some combination of those things… usually topped with an ample amount of grit and sand. Breakfast is usually a cup of Milo (like Ovaltine) and some white bread. If we’re LUCKY, we get fresh fruit and soda (no, not diet). So, obviously this is not the place for a low-carb diet. If I come back 15 pounds heavier, you know why.

Our first assigned task involved going into the neighboring community to determine which kids attending the school might deserve subsidized lunches. We were told to interview the family members and note the living environment to come to a conclusion. Keep in mind we are literally in the jungle! Most of the “homes” don’t have roofs, there is no running water, kids and grown-ups are unabashedly using the restroom in full view, and animals are running wild. There is nothing more depressing than seeing a family with nothing more than solid walls to surround and deciding they DO NOT qualify. And they don’t, because someone else doesn’t have a wall at all.

Although Ghanaian lifestyle is often frustrating – nothing is on-time, organized or remotely logical – the people here are some of the happiest on the planet. Kids living with nothing never cry when they fall down and scrape their knee. They never complain (although they don’t hesitate to beg for money, shoes or whatever), and they are always smiling. We haven’t passed a single person in the street who hasn’t grinned widely, and more often than not, they walk right up to you and say, “You are welcome” and that they are happy we are here. The kids are some of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, and the orphans have surprisingly strong personalities. One of our favorites, Peace, a five-year-old diva, is quite a little rascal. Overall, they love to learn – craving math problems and reading time, and they have an insatiable appetite for playtime.

After an intense four days, we left the orphanage (this is standard procedure on the weekends), returned to Accra, and then headed down the coast to a “resort” located where the Volta River meets the ocean. We stayed in huts, lounged around on the beach and sat around with the other volunteers near a bonfire at night. The other kids here are awesome, and it’s been just as much of an experience to have conversations with them.

We love you and miss you all! I’ll upload some pictures soon… I left my camera in the house.

-Lindsay

We’re gonna need a bigger goat.

Apparently there are a lot of goats – and they are super small! I don’t know if I am lacking in goat experience, but these goats probably weigh 15-20 pounds (smaller than a Scoot… about the size of a fat cat.)

This goat seemed especially Scoot-like.

Stores usually incorporate a Christian message or phrase into their names – typically in a manner that is seemingly nonsensical. This practice applies to everything – hair salons, marketing agencies, grocers and taxis.

We came across this outside of a school. We think it’s probably some sort of learning device where the kids have to properly order the letters. At least that’s what we hope.

Our World Cup Runneth Over

We made it!

After a ten-hour flight, we arrived as planned in Accra on Friday afternoon. The airport was a humble, single story building that had the feel of a bazaar, and there were extremely nice people at every step, from the baggage claim to the taxi line, who were willing to help with your luggage for a tip. It made for an overly welcoming, if slightly disingenuine first impression. There was a representative from Ikando there to greet us, haggle with the cabbie over the fee, and escort us to our temporary arrangements. We’ll stay in Accra until Monday morning and then head out to the rural orphanage. This has made for a nice staging process where we could acclimate to the newness of Ghana without the complete culture shock of immdiately immersing ourselves in a small third-world village.

We had just enough time to throw our bags in one of the volunteer houses, exchange some money and get to the local sports bar/restaurant for some food, beer and the Ghana v. Uruguay World Cup match.

And it was INTENSE.

I figured that Uruguay was the favorite (despite what everyone here was telling us), but after about ten minutes of watching Ghana’s ferocious offense, we knew it would be close. Ghana scored the first goal right before the end of the first half, and the crowd went absolutely nuts. Screaming, dancing, singing, making phone calls… total hysteria.

We are still trying to post a video we took at the tail-end of the celebration.

Nike runs a great commercial during the world cup that shows what different stars can expect upon returning to their homeland as either the hero or the goat, and what happened at the end of the match allowed us a glimpse at both sides of that coin. When Ghana was awarded a PK at the end of the second ET (am I doing this right?) the entire patio went crazy, acting as if the game was assuredly won. When the shot hit the crossbar and sailed over the goal, it was met more with disbelief than anguish. At the end of the match, with Uruguay winning on PKs, the entire country seemed to transition from sheer ecstasy to gloom in about 15 seconds. We couldn’t help but feel the same way, and we were pretty exhausted, so we went back to the house (where, by the way, we have boy rooms and girl rooms, summer camp style).

Eventually the other volunteers made it home as well, and we had a long chat with them, drilling them with questions and learning all the ins and outs of Ghana life. They’re all about 20 years old and about ¾ of them are girls, so we feel pretty confident that if they can handle it here, so can we. It has also been established that we are the creepy, old couple in the bunch, a role we have gracefully agreed to adopt despite our undoubted hipness.

We went through what is termed “orientation” but what is really a quick trip to the cell phone store and the local grocer yesterday afternoon. This was after waiting for our guide for almost four hours. Apparently this is pretty typical here – especially on a Saturday. This is hardly a fast-paced culture. Hey, at least we have Internet access!

We head out early (we’ll see how early) Monday morning to go to the orphanage (a 3-hour drive). The girls who have already been there for a while are excited to have us, and they’ve informed us that the pace has just begun to pick up, so we are right on time.

Hopefully we’ll have some more exciting news to share soon!

UPDATE:

Here’s the celebration video!

-Clark

Going, going, Ghana!

I know what you’re thinking – are they going to have these amazingly clever titles for every single post?

The answer is yes.

You’re also probably wondering why we’re taking this 5-week trip to Africa, and what we’re going to be doing. During a sleepless night, I found an organization called Ikando that places volunteers throughout the country, and their rural orphanage opportunity seemed really interesting and exciting. The next morning, after twisting Clark’s arm a bit, we decided to go for it. We knew we wanted to do something BIG before Clark began his MBA program at Vanderbilt, and this experience certainly fit that description.

After several vaccinations (yellow fever, typhoid, polio and hep a), malaria pills, tons of mosquito repellent purchases and lots of red tape, we’re packed and ready to leave in a few hours. We don’t exactly know what to expect. Our accommodations have only been described as “minimal,” and we’re pretty sure buckets are involved in the bathing process. When we’re not helping with the kids, we will be able to go on little trips, hopefully to a couple beach resorts and maybe to see some elephants. In preparation for this, I have spent a significant amount of time at the Houston Zoo observing Baylor, the most adorable creature of all time.

In addition to our wealth of elephant knowledge and sunscreen, we’re also bringing several soccer and foursquare balls, cones for goals and art supplies. Clark bought a whistle and has been furiously practicing yelling, “hustle!” For some reason, I think the kids will probably question the orphanage’s sports coach vetting process, despite his uncanny ability to recite minor league baseball statistics.

We leave tonight at 5:48, fly into Atlanta, and after a brief layover, fly over the Atlantic and on to Ghana, arriving at the local time of 2:40 pm. Clark will therefore lose seven hours of his birthday and spend the majority of it in a plane, but he is willing to make that sacrifice for the B-Team. The Ghana national team plays Uruguay at 6:30 pm locally, so we picked a good day to see a nation of people go buck wild.

We will try to update the blog as often as possible and are planning to incorporate lots of pictures and video because the idea of life in Ghana is probably as abstract to you all as it currently is to us. If you are tempted to leave a question or comment after an update is posted, please do so! We’d love to hear what you all think…

Onward and upward,

Lindsay