Everyone in Ghana loves a good joke. In fact, I would say that a good sense of humor is one of the most valuable survival skills a person can have in this country. It seems the most awkward moments I have found myself in have been times when a Ghanaian asks me a question or makes a comment and is expecting a nice light-hearted banter, and I respond with well-intentioned earnestness. My first clue that I have missed the culturally appropriate opportunity for a brilliant witticism is the glazed over look that comes into the Ghanaian's eyes... and then it is always too late to backtrack and switch to comedian mode.
So, I have been trying to build up my repertoire of hilarity to keep myself ever-ready for the moments when it becomes necessary to make my neighbors laugh. And if it is more my Yevu (foreign white person) strangeness that they are laughing at rather than my scintillating wit, it is all just as well. As humor is such an important part of my attempts to integrate into the culture of Ghana, I thought I would try to share a few stories with you... Though I realize I am faced with the difficulty that a lot of the humor, being based on things that I now take for granted in Ghanaian culture, may be lost on my mostly American audience. But having grown up in a family that delights in nonsensical humor, I have long been used to telling jokes that no one else will understand.
The most common situation in which I must always keep a good joke on hand is the inevitable "what did you bring me?" question that I always face when returning from anywhere. This is a standard question that is sort of the Ghanaian equivalent of saying "welcome home, did you miss me?" To say "I brought you nothing" would be the equivalent of saying, "you mean nothing to me, why would I miss you?"
But in truth, I can not afford to bring EVERYONE a loaf of bread (the usual offering) each time I go somewhere, so a good joking reply is required. My Ghanaian sister told me a standard response to this question is: "Oh, the bridge in the town where they sell bread fell into the river, so there was no bread to be bought... sorry-o. Next time I will bring you bread."
I found a response that worked well for me. When I first gave it, I got a good round of approving laughs, and when I attempted a much simpler version in my halting Ewe, the laughter was uproarious. My story went somehow like this: "I bought you biscuits, but a roving band of mercenary goats was waiting for me at the junction, and when I came, they attacked me and ate all of the biscuits! So, sorry-o. Next time I will bring you biscuits."
Goats have become the favorite punchline of my jokes. When my 29th birthday was approaching, one of my Ghanaian brothers told me he would buy me a goat to slaughter and cook in honor of me. I replied that as I was turning 29, I expected him to bring me 29 goats - one for each year. So this became an ongoing exchange between us in the days leading up to my birthday. I would ask him how the goat collection was coming along, and he would give me some story as to why it was or wasn't going well. Well, as you can imagine, my birthday came, and, alas, no goats. When I asked my brother why he didn't bring my goats, he told me a story about how he had 25 goats collected, but some disaster happened, and he was not able to get the remaining four goats, so instead of bringing me an insufficient number of goats, he decided to wait until next year. Of course, at this point I informed him that next year required 30 goats; 29 goats would never do for my 30th birthday.
About a month later, his birthday was approaching, and he told me that I should start looking for his 45 goats for his 45th birthday. I let him know that in no way could I provide 45 goats. He would have to be satisfied with 45 fish... which I quickly bargained down to 45 spaghettis (don't ask). His birthday came, and he was nowhere to be seen, so the next day when he came over, I told him "Oh! I had 45 spaghettis prepared for you, but when you did not come, the spaghettis ran away!" He acted shocked, "No! They ran away?! How could they run away, and why did you not chase them??" I replied, "They slithered off like snakes to Nigeria, and I am not chasing them all the way to Nigeria!"
Hmm... Yeah... I guess you had to be there. But I did warn you that you nobody else would understand.
My Ghanaian Mama Margaret is a hoot, and we have several inside jokes between us. I have some jokes that only my fellow volunteers would understand. And some I think only my family would understand, if only they saw or understood the circumstances that make me start laughing out loud like an idiot for no apparent reason. And some jokes are only for myself. They keep me sane when I begin to wonder what on earth I am doing here. Whatever the case, humor will most likely be the survival skill that keeps me going the longest in Ghana, even when I am the only one who laughs.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Friday, March 02, 2007
Nothing is new under the sun... well, maybe not for you.
I have been wracking my brain trying to think up something interesting to say on my blog, because I knew I was overdue for an update. The problem is that nothing much has been happening lately, and so it is hard for me to feel inspired to write about my most recent activities... which mostly include sitting around and not doing anything. Harmattan is still holding onto the Volta Region with dry and dusty fingers, and so I can't really start any of my work until the rains begin. And let me tell you, I am MORE than ready for the rains, as well as for some sort of purpose.
So, I have been agonizing over what to write in this blog, because I have been thinking "there is nothing new to report..." But then it occured to me that after six months in Ghana, things may not be new to me, but EVERYTHING is new to those of you who have never been here.
So, here is a list of things that I hardly even notice any longer, but that were new, different, and very surprising to me when I first came to Ghana. And for any of you who may end up visiting me here in Ghana, maybe it will act as a list of things to prepare yourself to experience.
- Goats tied to the top of a small bus (or trotro) - this is probably first on my list, because on my way to Ho this morning I in fact sat roughly underneath a small brown goat who bleated in confusion and fright any time the trotro stopped to cram more passengers into the seats. Good thing goats are sturdy, or there would be a lot of drivers who would have to pay the goat owners for their roadkill.
-Creative store names. Especially the very religious names. Examples: "Jesus Saves Haircuts", "God's Way Electronics", or "Saved by Grace Chop Bar". The three main religions in Ghana are Christianity, Islam, and the traditional belief system. It is extremely rare to find anyone who does not practice at least one of these. Therefore, it is generally profitable for store owners to name their shops with something that references their faith.
-The "handshake snap". This is not something you see, but rather something you do. Whenever you greet someone and shake his or her hand, as you pull your hands away, you snap each other's fingers. Took a while to get it down, but now whenever I shake the hand of a "Yevu" (white person), I probably leave him wondering why I tugged at his finger as he pulled his hand away. A handshake just doesn't feel complete anymore without it.
-The sounds of sweeping in the morning, and fufu pounding at night. Around 6 a.m. you will always here people outside their homes sweeping the dirt in their courtyards. Everyone has very clean dirt around their houses. And around 6 p.m. you will hear a chorus of fufu pounders making dinner. I may have mentioned before how fufu is the favorite meal here, so it is not surprising that it is the most commonly made dinner. To make it, you boil cassava and plantains, put it in a big wooden mortar, and with incredibly precise timing (that I have been too chicken to attempt on either end), you reach your hand in to turn the mixture of cassava and plantains, while someone stands over you with a large heavy stick (the size of a heafty tree branch) and with quite a lot of bodily force, pounds the fufu. It is definitely enough to break the fingers of the uninitiated. The sound it makes is like a muffled axe chopping wood.
-Traditional house made of mud walls, a thatch roof, and a dirt floor. When I first rode a bus out of Accra and into the surrounding country side, I was somehow overwhelmed by the site of villages filled with the kinds of houses that I would have described to sponsors over the phone when I worked at the child sponsorship organization. These are definitely the abodes of those in the most need. And I don't mean to diminish the significance of those needs, but it is interesting how perspectives change. More often than not, a small village made up of these traditional homes now appears to me more like a nice quiet neighborhood than a shocking example of poverty. It is amazing how quickly these houses can be constructed, and for the cost and convenience, they provide shelter sturdy enough to withstand many torrential rains. (one of my neighbors offered to teach me how to make one of these homes so I could build one for myself in America.) But good and bad aspects of these homes aside, I think it is more knowing the pulse of life that goes on inside and around them that makes me hardly notice them any more.
-Wow... after five examples, I am having trouble thinking of more... Like I said, I hardly notice these things anymore... Hmmm.... Let me think... Oh, I know -
-When I leave for a nearby town, having five people ask me where I am going, and if I will bring them bread when I return. My response: "Yoooo..." It would be extremely rude of me to say no. I might as well be telling the person that he or she is not worth knowing. Each person would be thrilled if I really did bring bread, and sometimes they ask when I return, but they are not REALLY expecting me to bring it (well, not usually, anyway.) It is more a way of saying "think of me while you are gone". When I return, if I didn't bring bread, and they ask, I can usually get away with saying that the market was inexplicably out of bread because of a funeral, or the goat on top of the trotro ate it, and they are just as happy - I proved they were worth making up a good story over.
-Adding "Oh" to the end of a sentence, or using "somehow" as a verbal filler. Example: "I saw a dress that was somehow nice, but it was too expensive-Oh." Yes. This is indeed how I speak now, as well as many other quirks you would quickly notice if you heard me speaking with my Ghanaian friends.
-Streetside hawkers. They sell everything from food and water to batteries and bug spray. When I first came, I would not even make eye contact with them while I was sitting in the bus waiting for it to fill with passengers, or at the places where buses will momentarily stop along the route, and the hawkers descend like vultures. My policy when I first came: IGNORE, IGNORE, IGNORE!! Now I get into the bus and immediately start perusing the offerings: Hmmm... those meat pies look tasty... or do I want fried yams? And I am getting adept at quickly giving my money to the running pure water seller through the bus window.
-Watching women, men or children (but especially women) carrying huge and heavy loads on their heads - no hands. Sometimes it is quite impressive to see the ingenious way hundreds of items are stacked in a bowl for balance on a person's head. I am also used to the jokes people make at me when they see me carrying items anywhere BUT on my head. I tried it a few times - but I don't have the talent.
I would write more, but am somehow out of time. Hope you enjoyed-oh.
So, I have been agonizing over what to write in this blog, because I have been thinking "there is nothing new to report..." But then it occured to me that after six months in Ghana, things may not be new to me, but EVERYTHING is new to those of you who have never been here.
So, here is a list of things that I hardly even notice any longer, but that were new, different, and very surprising to me when I first came to Ghana. And for any of you who may end up visiting me here in Ghana, maybe it will act as a list of things to prepare yourself to experience.
- Goats tied to the top of a small bus (or trotro) - this is probably first on my list, because on my way to Ho this morning I in fact sat roughly underneath a small brown goat who bleated in confusion and fright any time the trotro stopped to cram more passengers into the seats. Good thing goats are sturdy, or there would be a lot of drivers who would have to pay the goat owners for their roadkill.
-Creative store names. Especially the very religious names. Examples: "Jesus Saves Haircuts", "God's Way Electronics", or "Saved by Grace Chop Bar". The three main religions in Ghana are Christianity, Islam, and the traditional belief system. It is extremely rare to find anyone who does not practice at least one of these. Therefore, it is generally profitable for store owners to name their shops with something that references their faith.
-The "handshake snap". This is not something you see, but rather something you do. Whenever you greet someone and shake his or her hand, as you pull your hands away, you snap each other's fingers. Took a while to get it down, but now whenever I shake the hand of a "Yevu" (white person), I probably leave him wondering why I tugged at his finger as he pulled his hand away. A handshake just doesn't feel complete anymore without it.
-The sounds of sweeping in the morning, and fufu pounding at night. Around 6 a.m. you will always here people outside their homes sweeping the dirt in their courtyards. Everyone has very clean dirt around their houses. And around 6 p.m. you will hear a chorus of fufu pounders making dinner. I may have mentioned before how fufu is the favorite meal here, so it is not surprising that it is the most commonly made dinner. To make it, you boil cassava and plantains, put it in a big wooden mortar, and with incredibly precise timing (that I have been too chicken to attempt on either end), you reach your hand in to turn the mixture of cassava and plantains, while someone stands over you with a large heavy stick (the size of a heafty tree branch) and with quite a lot of bodily force, pounds the fufu. It is definitely enough to break the fingers of the uninitiated. The sound it makes is like a muffled axe chopping wood.
-Traditional house made of mud walls, a thatch roof, and a dirt floor. When I first rode a bus out of Accra and into the surrounding country side, I was somehow overwhelmed by the site of villages filled with the kinds of houses that I would have described to sponsors over the phone when I worked at the child sponsorship organization. These are definitely the abodes of those in the most need. And I don't mean to diminish the significance of those needs, but it is interesting how perspectives change. More often than not, a small village made up of these traditional homes now appears to me more like a nice quiet neighborhood than a shocking example of poverty. It is amazing how quickly these houses can be constructed, and for the cost and convenience, they provide shelter sturdy enough to withstand many torrential rains. (one of my neighbors offered to teach me how to make one of these homes so I could build one for myself in America.) But good and bad aspects of these homes aside, I think it is more knowing the pulse of life that goes on inside and around them that makes me hardly notice them any more.
-Wow... after five examples, I am having trouble thinking of more... Like I said, I hardly notice these things anymore... Hmmm.... Let me think... Oh, I know -
-When I leave for a nearby town, having five people ask me where I am going, and if I will bring them bread when I return. My response: "Yoooo..." It would be extremely rude of me to say no. I might as well be telling the person that he or she is not worth knowing. Each person would be thrilled if I really did bring bread, and sometimes they ask when I return, but they are not REALLY expecting me to bring it (well, not usually, anyway.) It is more a way of saying "think of me while you are gone". When I return, if I didn't bring bread, and they ask, I can usually get away with saying that the market was inexplicably out of bread because of a funeral, or the goat on top of the trotro ate it, and they are just as happy - I proved they were worth making up a good story over.
-Adding "Oh" to the end of a sentence, or using "somehow" as a verbal filler. Example: "I saw a dress that was somehow nice, but it was too expensive-Oh." Yes. This is indeed how I speak now, as well as many other quirks you would quickly notice if you heard me speaking with my Ghanaian friends.
-Streetside hawkers. They sell everything from food and water to batteries and bug spray. When I first came, I would not even make eye contact with them while I was sitting in the bus waiting for it to fill with passengers, or at the places where buses will momentarily stop along the route, and the hawkers descend like vultures. My policy when I first came: IGNORE, IGNORE, IGNORE!! Now I get into the bus and immediately start perusing the offerings: Hmmm... those meat pies look tasty... or do I want fried yams? And I am getting adept at quickly giving my money to the running pure water seller through the bus window.
-Watching women, men or children (but especially women) carrying huge and heavy loads on their heads - no hands. Sometimes it is quite impressive to see the ingenious way hundreds of items are stacked in a bowl for balance on a person's head. I am also used to the jokes people make at me when they see me carrying items anywhere BUT on my head. I tried it a few times - but I don't have the talent.
I would write more, but am somehow out of time. Hope you enjoyed-oh.
Monday, January 22, 2007
top ten favorites... and some not so favorites...
Ok, maybe this will be an occasional feature as I come up with more favorites... I realize I have been here for less than a fourth of my stay, so these are likely to change every so often.
But, I thought I would make a list of my top ten favorite things here... times when I feel normal and like I could do this forever. And then to be fair and balanced (but not TOO balanced...) I will list a few things that are.... ummm.... NOT my favorite things.
Favorites:
10. Sucking Fan Ice (a soft vanilla ice cream) out of its plastic pouch while sitting in the shade to escape the hot tropical sun. (to suck it out of the pouch, you bite the corner off of the pouch, and squeeze the ice cream into your mouth.... other things you suck instead of eat or drink in Ghana: oranges, water, mangoes, cooked rice out of plastic baggies)
9. listening to the choir at my church sing. Amazing harmonies and incredible drumming.
8. watching my Ghanaian mama dance at the front of the church while the choir sings... i love to watch all of the women dance around in a circle, but my mama takes the cake with her enthusiasm and the way she twirls her white scarf around.
7. watching Nigerian movies with my sister and brother, or watching French-dubbed Chuck Norris movies with my neighbors... I won't comment on which type of movie has the better quality in terms of script, dialogue, action, and production values... I'll just say that Chuck Norris never looked so amazing... Though it could be the fact that I can't understand a word he is saying makes him seem a much better actor. What makes it in my list of top ten is not so much the movies themselves, but how fun it is to watch my neighbors or my sister and brother get so in to what is happening in the movies. Their reactions are a hoot.
6. Eating a warm bowl of Fufu, palmnut soup, and grasscutter made for me by my mama and sister; especially appreciated on a day when I would rather go without eating than cook for myself. The Proverbs talk about a sluggard being too lazy to lift his hand from the bowl to his mouth... I definitely end up being too lazy to cook sometimes, but not to lift my hand to my mouth when my mama and sister feed me fufu! (No, I am not starving - I have found clever and lazy ways around cooking.)
5. laying in my bed in the cool early mornings of harmatan. It actually gets cold enough that I have to cover up with two sheets and a sweater... almost cool enough for me to try to imagine all of the snow my family and friends have been hit with in Colorado.
4. Sitting with my favorite boys as they play Ludo, which is a Ghanaian board game. Watching them is too much fun. The point is to move four of your pieces around the board and get them safe at home. Just like in Sorry, other players can boot you off the board and back to the starting place. When one of the boys does this to another, the mock arguments and teasing it sets off always makes me laugh, even though it is in Ewe and I don't understand a word they are saying. Sitting and watching these boys always makes me happy. They kind of remind me of when I would visit my cousins growing up.
3. Bargaining in Ewe at the market. For some reason, this is the thing I can do best in the language, and I have greetings and bargaining down so well that I can often go through a whole exchange with a person entirely in Ewe, and occasionally leave them thinking I am fluent... that NEVER happens in any other situation.
2. Watching one of the many animals (goats, cats, dogs, chickens, sheep, lizards, etc.) that roam around the village. What can I say? I have always been a sucker for watching animals.
1. My absolute favorite... Riding for a couple of hours in the back of a small bus (Tro tro) near an open window while listening to my music. I can just retreat into myself and not have to be anything but... myself. Of course, if the ride is TOO long, it loses its charm, but for a couple of hours, it is the best thing in the world... even when the small bus is CRAMMED with people.
Ok, so those are my favorites. At least for now.
I won't make a top ten for my LEAST favorite things, but here are a few:
-the flies..... THE FLIES!!!!!!!!
-having someone read my emails over my shoulder in an internet cafe...
-people yelling or hissing at me as I walk down the street - not a threatening or even rude thing to do in Ghana, they are just trying to get my attention and want to make friends, but as an American, it is very hard to get used to.
-trying to decide whether I have to greet the person I am passing on the street or whether I can get away with pretending not to notice them.
-whatever it is in my room that keeps making noises at night just when I am about to get to sleep.
... I guess if you asked me at a different time each day, I would have another to put on this list, but I am not going to bother trying to come up with any more. They are brief and easily forgotten, and pale in comparison to everything on my top ten FAVORITES.
hope you enjoyed!
But, I thought I would make a list of my top ten favorite things here... times when I feel normal and like I could do this forever. And then to be fair and balanced (but not TOO balanced...) I will list a few things that are.... ummm.... NOT my favorite things.
Favorites:
10. Sucking Fan Ice (a soft vanilla ice cream) out of its plastic pouch while sitting in the shade to escape the hot tropical sun. (to suck it out of the pouch, you bite the corner off of the pouch, and squeeze the ice cream into your mouth.... other things you suck instead of eat or drink in Ghana: oranges, water, mangoes, cooked rice out of plastic baggies)
9. listening to the choir at my church sing. Amazing harmonies and incredible drumming.
8. watching my Ghanaian mama dance at the front of the church while the choir sings... i love to watch all of the women dance around in a circle, but my mama takes the cake with her enthusiasm and the way she twirls her white scarf around.
7. watching Nigerian movies with my sister and brother, or watching French-dubbed Chuck Norris movies with my neighbors... I won't comment on which type of movie has the better quality in terms of script, dialogue, action, and production values... I'll just say that Chuck Norris never looked so amazing... Though it could be the fact that I can't understand a word he is saying makes him seem a much better actor. What makes it in my list of top ten is not so much the movies themselves, but how fun it is to watch my neighbors or my sister and brother get so in to what is happening in the movies. Their reactions are a hoot.
6. Eating a warm bowl of Fufu, palmnut soup, and grasscutter made for me by my mama and sister; especially appreciated on a day when I would rather go without eating than cook for myself. The Proverbs talk about a sluggard being too lazy to lift his hand from the bowl to his mouth... I definitely end up being too lazy to cook sometimes, but not to lift my hand to my mouth when my mama and sister feed me fufu! (No, I am not starving - I have found clever and lazy ways around cooking.)
5. laying in my bed in the cool early mornings of harmatan. It actually gets cold enough that I have to cover up with two sheets and a sweater... almost cool enough for me to try to imagine all of the snow my family and friends have been hit with in Colorado.
4. Sitting with my favorite boys as they play Ludo, which is a Ghanaian board game. Watching them is too much fun. The point is to move four of your pieces around the board and get them safe at home. Just like in Sorry, other players can boot you off the board and back to the starting place. When one of the boys does this to another, the mock arguments and teasing it sets off always makes me laugh, even though it is in Ewe and I don't understand a word they are saying. Sitting and watching these boys always makes me happy. They kind of remind me of when I would visit my cousins growing up.
3. Bargaining in Ewe at the market. For some reason, this is the thing I can do best in the language, and I have greetings and bargaining down so well that I can often go through a whole exchange with a person entirely in Ewe, and occasionally leave them thinking I am fluent... that NEVER happens in any other situation.
2. Watching one of the many animals (goats, cats, dogs, chickens, sheep, lizards, etc.) that roam around the village. What can I say? I have always been a sucker for watching animals.
1. My absolute favorite... Riding for a couple of hours in the back of a small bus (Tro tro) near an open window while listening to my music. I can just retreat into myself and not have to be anything but... myself. Of course, if the ride is TOO long, it loses its charm, but for a couple of hours, it is the best thing in the world... even when the small bus is CRAMMED with people.
Ok, so those are my favorites. At least for now.
I won't make a top ten for my LEAST favorite things, but here are a few:
-the flies..... THE FLIES!!!!!!!!
-having someone read my emails over my shoulder in an internet cafe...
-people yelling or hissing at me as I walk down the street - not a threatening or even rude thing to do in Ghana, they are just trying to get my attention and want to make friends, but as an American, it is very hard to get used to.
-trying to decide whether I have to greet the person I am passing on the street or whether I can get away with pretending not to notice them.
-whatever it is in my room that keeps making noises at night just when I am about to get to sleep.
... I guess if you asked me at a different time each day, I would have another to put on this list, but I am not going to bother trying to come up with any more. They are brief and easily forgotten, and pale in comparison to everything on my top ten FAVORITES.
hope you enjoyed!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
I'm still here! - part 2
Recently I dreamed that I had a conversation with the spiders in my room. I was trying to convince them that the spot over my bed was not the best place for them to build their webs, and they were explaining to me why the location truly was ideal... To prevent myself from contracting malaria from mosquitoes, I am required to take Larium, which has the interesting side effect of very bizarre dreams. The beauty of a Larium dream is that when I awoke, I was surprised (and not a little relieved) that there was not a group of chatty arachnids hanging over my head.
Larium dreams are not always so strange, but they are almost always very very vivid. Where this has caused me the most trouble has not been in dreams of spiders, but in dreams of home. I will dream of doing very mundane things, like walking through Walmart, or laying on the carpet in the living room of my parents home, reading a magazine. Sometimes I am aware that I should be in Ghana, and so I am trying to convince myself that it is ok for me to be home, and others it is like I was never here. The unfortunate side effect of these dreams is that I wake up feeling very disoriented and out of place when I realize that I am not truly riding in the car and laughing with my sisters as I thought I was. I think that is when homesickness is the hardest to deal with... ok, so it is a toss up between that and when I sabotage my emotions by pining over pictures of my friends and family.
Luckily, I have found a sure-fire cure for the loneliness this brings on (though my mood often makes me reluctant to pursue this remedy, no matter how effective). The solution to my sadness and homesickness is to come out of my room and walk across to my neighbors and sit with them in the courtyard as they play games or just carry on conversations in Ewe. Sometimes this is the last thing on earth that I want to do - when I am feeling depressed I tend towards reclusiveness - but I am unfailingly rewarded if I manage to overcome my anti-social tendencies and spend time with the people in my community.
I have been perfecting the art of sitting with someone for long periods of time in silence. Sometimes this is because Ghanaians are very content to sit with each other and not feel the need for conversation, and sometimes it is because I can't understand or take part in most of the conversations.
When I greet an Ewe speaker, and they find that I can "hear the Ewe language small small", they are tickled pink and immediately bombard me with all sorts of questions, expecting that I will know what they are talking about. Even those who better know me and the extent of my language abilities will often time carry on conversations around me, expecting that I am at least able to figure out the context of what they are talking about. I am afraid I am just not there yet.
I remember one of my favorite Gary Larson cartoons showed a man talking to his dog in two frames. One frame said "what you say" and it showed the man saying (roughly) "Ginger, No! Bad Dog, Ginger! How many times have I told you not to get into the trash! Bad Ginger! Bad Dog!" The next frame said "what your dog hears", and it shows the man saying "Ginger, Blah! Blah Blah Ginger! Blah blah blah blah Ginger! Blah blah!"
This very much mirrors my experience with Ewe. A person will hear that I can greet in Ewe, and so they start to speak, and I hear: "Blah blah blah church, blah blah blah behind blah blah, blah blah mother blah blah market." Then the person will look at me expectantly. My choices are threefold: I can say in Ewe, "I hear Ewe small small", which will sometimes make the person laugh and end the conversation, as well as possibly end any future attempt to converse with me in Ewe. I can say "I didn't understand", which more often than not leads to the person retrying in different but no more understandable words. Or I can guess that this is a situation in which the almost universal response "Yo...." will suffice. That last option is very hit or miss. Sometimes it results in the Ghanaian nodding and laughing in approval, and sometimes it simply results in a strange look. Ah well, can't win 'em all, all the time, right?
The holidays are now over, and I hear that in my home state of Colorado there have been three major snowstorms, a couple of them effectively shutting down half of the city. It is just my luck that for the past several years there have been very few significant snow storms, and the moment I leave to stay for two years in a tropical climate, and my hometown is hit with no less than THREE major snowstorms. I didn't think I would miss the snow that much, but for me it has been like perpetual summer since May. And when I see pictures of two of my sisters having fun and snowboarding in my parents back yard, it makes Christmas feel just a tad far away.
My Christmas and New Years celebrations, though different than those at home, were actually very nice. There were LOTS of church services... New Years Eve there was a gathering of people from twenty different branches of the church in Bethel... apparently my community is the head of the branches, so with the influx of worshippers, the population of my town seemed to effectively double in size. They came for an all night church service, and BOY was it an event. Picture the lawn beside the church covered in canopies and stacked with rows of chairs filled with decked-out Ghanaians. When the music and the worship starts, so does the dancing, and all of the chairs empty with people prancing around in circles and waving white hankies. It's quite a treat to watch. Dancing is as natural for the Ghanaian as swimming is for an otter, and it is not necessarily the sign of a charismatic church. Every church that I have attended (ok, so the total is three, but they were all different denominations) had dancing as a part of worship. My mama Margaret LOVES to dance her worship. She is so enthusiastic that you can't help but be happy when you see her.
For Christmas, I was invited to the home of the Bishop and his wife (since our Bethel church is the headquarters for all of the Bethel branches, the leader of our church and community has the title of "Bishop" and "Founder and Leader". I really like him and his wife a lot - wonderful people.) After visiting for a while... which included a conversation in which I had to explain and defend why I am not yet married... I was told it was time for dinner. I was led into a room and sat at a table and served fufu and light soup with beef (author's note: Yum Yum! my previous post went on about the joys of American food, but well prepared Ghanaian food is quite delicious.)
As I am telling you that I was invited to have dinner with the Bishop and his family, I am sure you are forming the same mental picture in your head that I had formed in mine, even though I should have known better. I am sure you are imagining sitting around a table with a large Ghanaian family, visiting and eating fufu from a large community bowl in which everyone takes part, eating with their hands (only with the right hand, of course, because it is taboo to do anything of significance with your left hand, especially eat)... Ok, well maybe that was not your mental picture, but it was mine. And so when I sat down at the table and they put the food in front of me and left the room, I waited expectantly to be joined by everyone else... and I waited.... and waited... and a lady came in and asked if I had ever eaten fufu before, and I said "yes, I like it," and she smiled and nodded and left.... and I looked around and waited...
And then it dawned on me; "oh, yeah! this is Ghana and I am an honored guest! No one is going to join me..." I felt a little sheepish as I started to eat my fufu (with a spoon they had thoughtfully provided for the honored American guest), because I had been well aware before that it is customary in Ghana to have the guest eat separately from the family at a special table, and to be left alone to enjoy the meal. But I guess because it was Christmas, and I had such a mental picture of fellowshipping around the table with the family, as is customary in the States, I had forgotten that was what I should expect. So, I ate my fufu, and I enjoyed it, and then I went outside and found the family sitting together, eating and enjoying their meal, and talking and laughing with each other. I sat nearby where they joined me afterwards to visit. And a very fine visit it was, full of the fellowship that I had been craving.
I hope all of you had a Christmas as merry!
Larium dreams are not always so strange, but they are almost always very very vivid. Where this has caused me the most trouble has not been in dreams of spiders, but in dreams of home. I will dream of doing very mundane things, like walking through Walmart, or laying on the carpet in the living room of my parents home, reading a magazine. Sometimes I am aware that I should be in Ghana, and so I am trying to convince myself that it is ok for me to be home, and others it is like I was never here. The unfortunate side effect of these dreams is that I wake up feeling very disoriented and out of place when I realize that I am not truly riding in the car and laughing with my sisters as I thought I was. I think that is when homesickness is the hardest to deal with... ok, so it is a toss up between that and when I sabotage my emotions by pining over pictures of my friends and family.
Luckily, I have found a sure-fire cure for the loneliness this brings on (though my mood often makes me reluctant to pursue this remedy, no matter how effective). The solution to my sadness and homesickness is to come out of my room and walk across to my neighbors and sit with them in the courtyard as they play games or just carry on conversations in Ewe. Sometimes this is the last thing on earth that I want to do - when I am feeling depressed I tend towards reclusiveness - but I am unfailingly rewarded if I manage to overcome my anti-social tendencies and spend time with the people in my community.
I have been perfecting the art of sitting with someone for long periods of time in silence. Sometimes this is because Ghanaians are very content to sit with each other and not feel the need for conversation, and sometimes it is because I can't understand or take part in most of the conversations.
When I greet an Ewe speaker, and they find that I can "hear the Ewe language small small", they are tickled pink and immediately bombard me with all sorts of questions, expecting that I will know what they are talking about. Even those who better know me and the extent of my language abilities will often time carry on conversations around me, expecting that I am at least able to figure out the context of what they are talking about. I am afraid I am just not there yet.
I remember one of my favorite Gary Larson cartoons showed a man talking to his dog in two frames. One frame said "what you say" and it showed the man saying (roughly) "Ginger, No! Bad Dog, Ginger! How many times have I told you not to get into the trash! Bad Ginger! Bad Dog!" The next frame said "what your dog hears", and it shows the man saying "Ginger, Blah! Blah Blah Ginger! Blah blah blah blah Ginger! Blah blah!"
This very much mirrors my experience with Ewe. A person will hear that I can greet in Ewe, and so they start to speak, and I hear: "Blah blah blah church, blah blah blah behind blah blah, blah blah mother blah blah market." Then the person will look at me expectantly. My choices are threefold: I can say in Ewe, "I hear Ewe small small", which will sometimes make the person laugh and end the conversation, as well as possibly end any future attempt to converse with me in Ewe. I can say "I didn't understand", which more often than not leads to the person retrying in different but no more understandable words. Or I can guess that this is a situation in which the almost universal response "Yo...." will suffice. That last option is very hit or miss. Sometimes it results in the Ghanaian nodding and laughing in approval, and sometimes it simply results in a strange look. Ah well, can't win 'em all, all the time, right?
The holidays are now over, and I hear that in my home state of Colorado there have been three major snowstorms, a couple of them effectively shutting down half of the city. It is just my luck that for the past several years there have been very few significant snow storms, and the moment I leave to stay for two years in a tropical climate, and my hometown is hit with no less than THREE major snowstorms. I didn't think I would miss the snow that much, but for me it has been like perpetual summer since May. And when I see pictures of two of my sisters having fun and snowboarding in my parents back yard, it makes Christmas feel just a tad far away.
My Christmas and New Years celebrations, though different than those at home, were actually very nice. There were LOTS of church services... New Years Eve there was a gathering of people from twenty different branches of the church in Bethel... apparently my community is the head of the branches, so with the influx of worshippers, the population of my town seemed to effectively double in size. They came for an all night church service, and BOY was it an event. Picture the lawn beside the church covered in canopies and stacked with rows of chairs filled with decked-out Ghanaians. When the music and the worship starts, so does the dancing, and all of the chairs empty with people prancing around in circles and waving white hankies. It's quite a treat to watch. Dancing is as natural for the Ghanaian as swimming is for an otter, and it is not necessarily the sign of a charismatic church. Every church that I have attended (ok, so the total is three, but they were all different denominations) had dancing as a part of worship. My mama Margaret LOVES to dance her worship. She is so enthusiastic that you can't help but be happy when you see her.
For Christmas, I was invited to the home of the Bishop and his wife (since our Bethel church is the headquarters for all of the Bethel branches, the leader of our church and community has the title of "Bishop" and "Founder and Leader". I really like him and his wife a lot - wonderful people.) After visiting for a while... which included a conversation in which I had to explain and defend why I am not yet married... I was told it was time for dinner. I was led into a room and sat at a table and served fufu and light soup with beef (author's note: Yum Yum! my previous post went on about the joys of American food, but well prepared Ghanaian food is quite delicious.)
As I am telling you that I was invited to have dinner with the Bishop and his family, I am sure you are forming the same mental picture in your head that I had formed in mine, even though I should have known better. I am sure you are imagining sitting around a table with a large Ghanaian family, visiting and eating fufu from a large community bowl in which everyone takes part, eating with their hands (only with the right hand, of course, because it is taboo to do anything of significance with your left hand, especially eat)... Ok, well maybe that was not your mental picture, but it was mine. And so when I sat down at the table and they put the food in front of me and left the room, I waited expectantly to be joined by everyone else... and I waited.... and waited... and a lady came in and asked if I had ever eaten fufu before, and I said "yes, I like it," and she smiled and nodded and left.... and I looked around and waited...
And then it dawned on me; "oh, yeah! this is Ghana and I am an honored guest! No one is going to join me..." I felt a little sheepish as I started to eat my fufu (with a spoon they had thoughtfully provided for the honored American guest), because I had been well aware before that it is customary in Ghana to have the guest eat separately from the family at a special table, and to be left alone to enjoy the meal. But I guess because it was Christmas, and I had such a mental picture of fellowshipping around the table with the family, as is customary in the States, I had forgotten that was what I should expect. So, I ate my fufu, and I enjoyed it, and then I went outside and found the family sitting together, eating and enjoying their meal, and talking and laughing with each other. I sat nearby where they joined me afterwards to visit. And a very fine visit it was, full of the fellowship that I had been craving.
I hope all of you had a Christmas as merry!
I'm still here! - part 1
I realize it has been an extraordinarily long time since I have updated this blog. I apologize. If it helps, I do have a valid excuse - actually three valid excuses: 1.) things got crazy busy towards the end of training and the start of my time at site, 2.) since leaving Techiman and coming to Volta, this is the first time I have had decent access to internet fast enough to do anything other than read emails (which I do love to read, and respond to when I get a chance - keep sending them) 3.) my site is fairly remote, and I only am occasionally in a city that has internet access at all.
But, these excuses having been given, let me at least reassert my hope that I will be able in the future to keep up with these updates more often than I have in the past two months. In the meantime, my mom was good enough to write update emails and send them to many of you. Because I want to make sure everyone is on the same page in knowing what is going on with me (and hopefully to add a few new juicy details), I will use this post to do a quick update using excerpts from my mom's email. I apologize for the repeat of information for those of you who have already seen this material, but hopefully even you will be satisfied with the personal comments I will add to my mom's very good account of what has taken place.
Mom's email will be in indentation and my additions will be in normal type to cut down on confusion.
Ok, here goes:
Yes, our Dara the Explorer, Peace Corps Trainee, will, as of this week, become Dara, Peace Corps Volunteer. After having passed her language test on Monday, where she had to show some proficiency in the Ewe (pronounced Eh-vey) language, and also a few more tests this week on technical training having to do with the job she will be doing at her site, she will participate in a swearing in ceremony where she will be officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. YAAAAY!!!
It is true - I have been sworn in as a Volunteer. What a relief - I think all of the trainees were quite ready to be finished with the training phase. Language test was daunting, but I was happy that it went a lot more smoothly than I expected. I went to a designated location and sat down with two of the Ewe speaking trainers, and we basically carried on a conversation in Ewe. We started with greetings and introductions, and I told about my family in the States (I promise I said nice things, mom), I role-played a market transaction and answered a few other questions on topics I can't remember too well now.
The swearing in ceremony was long and consisted of a lot of speeches and a few performances by trainees from the various language groups. Also, several of my fellow trainees performed traditional drumming and dancing performances that they had been preparing for a while. They did really well. I can't say that the swear in ceremony was any more interesting than any other graduation ceremony, but the key point was that we are now officially Volunteers.
She is at this moment (as of November 29th) still in Techiman in a hotel with the other volunteers, finishing up the last of their training. She has left her homestay which was outside of Techiman.
She did tell me that she had a wonderful Thanksgiving. She praised the ingenuity of the PCV's, though, as she described the menu: Turkey, stuffing, gravy, green bean casserole, and several other thing she listed that I can't remember. Of course, after some of the items, she would add, "of sorts". I don't know where her Cheetoes played into the menu, but after I had sent her a box of assorted items she requested,she told me she was saving the cheetoes for Thanksgiving Day.
I can't tell you how amazing that thanksgiving meal was. The things that were made may sound normal to you, but some of them were made using ingredients or cooking techniques that I at that point was not even aware was possible in Ghana... I have since learned how to find ways of making many of the before unheard of American foods, though some may seem like cheap substitutes to all of you, it is absolute HEAVEN to my home-starved palate. Recent ingenious culinary accomplishments: devilled eggs, mashed potatoes using yams (so I guess that is really mashed yams), an imitation of mom's baked beans, and the crowning of all achievements; last night my friend and I made an AMAZING pizza. We actually found mozerella cheese at a store here in Ho. Granted, the cheese itself was half of a day's wage, but sometimes you just have to splurge for a taste of home.
She is very excited about her new living arrangements in Bethel, and her new name there in Bethel will not be Afia Dola, but Dzifa Dara (pronounced Jee FAH Dara) The meaning of Dzifa in Ewe is 'My heart is at rest'. If you look at the map of Ghana, the Volta Region is east of the large Lake Volta. There is a town named Ho which is about a 30 minute ride from her little community. She will ride her bike from Bethel to Tsibu to catch the Tro(the bus service--really they are over crowded vans) which will take her to Ho. Ho is a bit larger town with more conveniences, and maybe even better internet availability, but, as it is a bit further and harder to get to, she may have less opportunity to be at the computer.
Not to mention that the last several times I have come to Ho in hopes of writing updates, the two fast internet cafes were down - but time and perseverance will overcome all obstacles... at least cyber-related ones.
My community truly fits me in more ways than I can describe. Some of you may have read about how my home situation is really unexpectedly nice (yes, I get to watch t.v. at home - an almost unheard of luxury for a volunteer), but that is not what makes Bethel such a perfect fit. It is a very small and remote village containing about 600 people, and it is very quiet. It is a Christian faith-based community, and the people are very wonderful and loving. I can not imagine a place where I would feel more safe or welcomed. Because it is so small a community, I have had good opportunity to at least meet the majority of the people who live there, and though I have been there only a month, I would say that almost all of them know who I am now (not hard, being the only Yevu around).
I live with Patience, a young woman who is the headmistress of the local school, and her mother Margaret, who is a teacher at the school. I know I am prone to over using superlatives in my descriptions, and I apologize for that weakness in my writing, but I truly have not met any women in Ghana who would be more perfect as housemates for me. They are amazing women - very widely traveled, and wonderfully gracious.
Moving in to a new place and trying to establish a new home for yourself is a stressful event in anyone's life. Doing it in a foreign culture adds to that stress greatly. I would venture to say that trying to find your place in an already established home brings with it even new stresses and uncertainties, and I can't say that this past month since I have been at site has not been an adjustment, at times very difficult. But I am blessed that the people in my community, and especially the ladies I live with, have done everything possible to make me feel at home, and it has greatly eased the anxieties and loneliness that I have at times felt.
And I can not express all of the ways that I have been encouraged by the prayers I feel from home, and the messages that I have been receiving. Keep it up! It keeps me going.
But, these excuses having been given, let me at least reassert my hope that I will be able in the future to keep up with these updates more often than I have in the past two months. In the meantime, my mom was good enough to write update emails and send them to many of you. Because I want to make sure everyone is on the same page in knowing what is going on with me (and hopefully to add a few new juicy details), I will use this post to do a quick update using excerpts from my mom's email. I apologize for the repeat of information for those of you who have already seen this material, but hopefully even you will be satisfied with the personal comments I will add to my mom's very good account of what has taken place.
Mom's email will be in indentation and my additions will be in normal type to cut down on confusion.
Ok, here goes:
Yes, our Dara the Explorer, Peace Corps Trainee, will, as of this week, become Dara, Peace Corps Volunteer. After having passed her language test on Monday, where she had to show some proficiency in the Ewe (pronounced Eh-vey) language, and also a few more tests this week on technical training having to do with the job she will be doing at her site, she will participate in a swearing in ceremony where she will be officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. YAAAAY!!!
It is true - I have been sworn in as a Volunteer. What a relief - I think all of the trainees were quite ready to be finished with the training phase. Language test was daunting, but I was happy that it went a lot more smoothly than I expected. I went to a designated location and sat down with two of the Ewe speaking trainers, and we basically carried on a conversation in Ewe. We started with greetings and introductions, and I told about my family in the States (I promise I said nice things, mom), I role-played a market transaction and answered a few other questions on topics I can't remember too well now.
The swearing in ceremony was long and consisted of a lot of speeches and a few performances by trainees from the various language groups. Also, several of my fellow trainees performed traditional drumming and dancing performances that they had been preparing for a while. They did really well. I can't say that the swear in ceremony was any more interesting than any other graduation ceremony, but the key point was that we are now officially Volunteers.
She is at this moment (as of November 29th) still in Techiman in a hotel with the other volunteers, finishing up the last of their training. She has left her homestay which was outside of Techiman.
She did tell me that she had a wonderful Thanksgiving. She praised the ingenuity of the PCV's, though, as she described the menu: Turkey, stuffing, gravy, green bean casserole, and several other thing she listed that I can't remember. Of course, after some of the items, she would add, "of sorts". I don't know where her Cheetoes played into the menu, but after I had sent her a box of assorted items she requested,she told me she was saving the cheetoes for Thanksgiving Day.
I can't tell you how amazing that thanksgiving meal was. The things that were made may sound normal to you, but some of them were made using ingredients or cooking techniques that I at that point was not even aware was possible in Ghana... I have since learned how to find ways of making many of the before unheard of American foods, though some may seem like cheap substitutes to all of you, it is absolute HEAVEN to my home-starved palate. Recent ingenious culinary accomplishments: devilled eggs, mashed potatoes using yams (so I guess that is really mashed yams), an imitation of mom's baked beans, and the crowning of all achievements; last night my friend and I made an AMAZING pizza. We actually found mozerella cheese at a store here in Ho. Granted, the cheese itself was half of a day's wage, but sometimes you just have to splurge for a taste of home.
She is very excited about her new living arrangements in Bethel, and her new name there in Bethel will not be Afia Dola, but Dzifa Dara (pronounced Jee FAH Dara) The meaning of Dzifa in Ewe is 'My heart is at rest'. If you look at the map of Ghana, the Volta Region is east of the large Lake Volta. There is a town named Ho which is about a 30 minute ride from her little community. She will ride her bike from Bethel to Tsibu to catch the Tro(the bus service--really they are over crowded vans) which will take her to Ho. Ho is a bit larger town with more conveniences, and maybe even better internet availability, but, as it is a bit further and harder to get to, she may have less opportunity to be at the computer.
Not to mention that the last several times I have come to Ho in hopes of writing updates, the two fast internet cafes were down - but time and perseverance will overcome all obstacles... at least cyber-related ones.
My community truly fits me in more ways than I can describe. Some of you may have read about how my home situation is really unexpectedly nice (yes, I get to watch t.v. at home - an almost unheard of luxury for a volunteer), but that is not what makes Bethel such a perfect fit. It is a very small and remote village containing about 600 people, and it is very quiet. It is a Christian faith-based community, and the people are very wonderful and loving. I can not imagine a place where I would feel more safe or welcomed. Because it is so small a community, I have had good opportunity to at least meet the majority of the people who live there, and though I have been there only a month, I would say that almost all of them know who I am now (not hard, being the only Yevu around).
I live with Patience, a young woman who is the headmistress of the local school, and her mother Margaret, who is a teacher at the school. I know I am prone to over using superlatives in my descriptions, and I apologize for that weakness in my writing, but I truly have not met any women in Ghana who would be more perfect as housemates for me. They are amazing women - very widely traveled, and wonderfully gracious.
Moving in to a new place and trying to establish a new home for yourself is a stressful event in anyone's life. Doing it in a foreign culture adds to that stress greatly. I would venture to say that trying to find your place in an already established home brings with it even new stresses and uncertainties, and I can't say that this past month since I have been at site has not been an adjustment, at times very difficult. But I am blessed that the people in my community, and especially the ladies I live with, have done everything possible to make me feel at home, and it has greatly eased the anxieties and loneliness that I have at times felt.
And I can not express all of the ways that I have been encouraged by the prayers I feel from home, and the messages that I have been receiving. Keep it up! It keeps me going.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
The adventures of Afia Dola in Techiman...
Before anyone asks, "Afia Dola" is what i am most commonly called in my homestay community... So it works like this: I found out from my mom before I left America that I was born on a Friday. This is very useful info in Ghana, because everyone at birth is given their "Christian name" (mine being "Dara") and each person in Ghana automatically gets a "Day Name" based on the day they were born. There are different names for each day and different names for males and females. Since I am a female born on Friday, I am "Afia" (pronounced "Ah-FEE-yah".)
Ghanaians get really excited when an Obruni (translation: white person, or foreigner) introduces himself or herself with the day name. But since approximately one out of fourteen people in Ghana have the name "Afia", I try to cut down on confusion by introducing myself as "Afia Dara".
Greeting in Ghana is of extreme importance. If you do not greet everyone you come into contact with, you are considered very rude. And there are specific rules in Ghana concerning greetings and how and when they should be done.
So, as I pass someone, the exchange goes something like this (keep in mind, I do it in Twi, so it is not always as simple as it looks in English - there are extra things you have to say in Twi that do not translate into English):
Me: "Good Morning"
Ghanaian: "Same to you"
Me: "How are you today?"
Ghanaian: "I am fine, and you?"
Me: "I am also fine"
Ghanaian: "What is your name?"
Me: "My name is Afia Dara."
Ghanaian: "Afia what?"
Me: "Afia Dara"
Ghanaian: "Afia Dola?"
Me: "Afia Dara"
Ghanaian: "Afia Dayla?"
Me: .........sure...
After a while I just figured it was easier to agree to the first attempt of "Afia Dola" to cut down on confusion, especially since this is the third person I have greeted since I left my house, and I am only three houses down on my way to hail a taxi. Add to that the fact that the interaction doesn't end there, but goes on to include me telling them where I am going, what I will do there, where I am from, and how long I will be in Ghana.
Luckily if my Ghanaian sister is with me, she can step in and cut down on a lot of the confusion that often happens.
I really like the family I am staying with. My sister, Constance, is the primary person in charge of taking care of me. She cooks all of my meals for me, and pretty much does everything else that I prove I do not yet know how to do the correct way. She and my brother, Amponsa are the only two who speak English... except for my father whom I rarely see, because he lives elsewhere.
Meals are always an interesting negotiation. I was highly relieved to discover that I rather enjoy most Ghanaian meals, and that there are very few that I just can not stomach. And my sister is always sure to ask whether I like the meal or not, and I am allowed to be honest. This helps a lot, because the meals that I am fed are easily large enough for a whole American family. The other day, my sister told me she made my breakfast "small small". It consisted of two eggs, three peanut butter sandwitches, two oranges, and a thermos of milo (sort of like hot chocolate).
I can't eat that much, especially all in one sitting. Luckily, there is a little puppy that is happy to take the occasional scrap that I throw to him. This helps me look like I have eaten more than I have. The tricky negotiations come in with deciding how much to leave on my plate before I can get up and declare myself done. If I eat too little, my sister asks "Why did you not eat all?" and I have to come up with a really good answer to convince her that it wasn't because I didn't like the food. If I make a habbit of not eating enough food, word gets to my Peace Corps trainers, and an impromptu meeting comes up to decide whether my sister is taking care of me as she should, or if I am being honest when I say that I like the food. This has often made me feel that I should eat beyond the point of being full, but then I have found that what I don't eat is given to the children... and I am very interested in leaving as much as possible for them to eat what is leftover. It is not like they would not eat without it, but the food I get is special food that I don't think they would normally have access to. So I am always trying to evaluate during each meal whether I have eaten the prescribed "ok" amount before getting up and declaring myself "satisfied".
My mom will be astounded to find out that my Ghanaian sister has found the key to making me WANT to do the laundry and the dishes. Yep. Reverse psychology still works on Dara. The key is to act like I am too much like an ignorant child to know the correct way to do it. Don't allow me to do it for two weeks, and then allow me to take on the least complicated parts of the task, such as rinsing... after seeing that I can handle that ok, let me graduate to the actual washing of the dishes or the laundry, but be sure to ask me every so often whether I need help or can I do it by myself. You can be sure that I will pipe up with "I can do it! I don't need help, REALLY!!"
I am hoping that by the end of my homestay, I can graduate to cooking a meal by myself. Today, my sister let me peel an orange, so I am pretty happy today.
I hope to update more later! Keep praying for me!
Ghanaians get really excited when an Obruni (translation: white person, or foreigner) introduces himself or herself with the day name. But since approximately one out of fourteen people in Ghana have the name "Afia", I try to cut down on confusion by introducing myself as "Afia Dara".
Greeting in Ghana is of extreme importance. If you do not greet everyone you come into contact with, you are considered very rude. And there are specific rules in Ghana concerning greetings and how and when they should be done.
So, as I pass someone, the exchange goes something like this (keep in mind, I do it in Twi, so it is not always as simple as it looks in English - there are extra things you have to say in Twi that do not translate into English):
Me: "Good Morning"
Ghanaian: "Same to you"
Me: "How are you today?"
Ghanaian: "I am fine, and you?"
Me: "I am also fine"
Ghanaian: "What is your name?"
Me: "My name is Afia Dara."
Ghanaian: "Afia what?"
Me: "Afia Dara"
Ghanaian: "Afia Dola?"
Me: "Afia Dara"
Ghanaian: "Afia Dayla?"
Me: .........sure...
After a while I just figured it was easier to agree to the first attempt of "Afia Dola" to cut down on confusion, especially since this is the third person I have greeted since I left my house, and I am only three houses down on my way to hail a taxi. Add to that the fact that the interaction doesn't end there, but goes on to include me telling them where I am going, what I will do there, where I am from, and how long I will be in Ghana.
Luckily if my Ghanaian sister is with me, she can step in and cut down on a lot of the confusion that often happens.
I really like the family I am staying with. My sister, Constance, is the primary person in charge of taking care of me. She cooks all of my meals for me, and pretty much does everything else that I prove I do not yet know how to do the correct way. She and my brother, Amponsa are the only two who speak English... except for my father whom I rarely see, because he lives elsewhere.
Meals are always an interesting negotiation. I was highly relieved to discover that I rather enjoy most Ghanaian meals, and that there are very few that I just can not stomach. And my sister is always sure to ask whether I like the meal or not, and I am allowed to be honest. This helps a lot, because the meals that I am fed are easily large enough for a whole American family. The other day, my sister told me she made my breakfast "small small". It consisted of two eggs, three peanut butter sandwitches, two oranges, and a thermos of milo (sort of like hot chocolate).
I can't eat that much, especially all in one sitting. Luckily, there is a little puppy that is happy to take the occasional scrap that I throw to him. This helps me look like I have eaten more than I have. The tricky negotiations come in with deciding how much to leave on my plate before I can get up and declare myself done. If I eat too little, my sister asks "Why did you not eat all?" and I have to come up with a really good answer to convince her that it wasn't because I didn't like the food. If I make a habbit of not eating enough food, word gets to my Peace Corps trainers, and an impromptu meeting comes up to decide whether my sister is taking care of me as she should, or if I am being honest when I say that I like the food. This has often made me feel that I should eat beyond the point of being full, but then I have found that what I don't eat is given to the children... and I am very interested in leaving as much as possible for them to eat what is leftover. It is not like they would not eat without it, but the food I get is special food that I don't think they would normally have access to. So I am always trying to evaluate during each meal whether I have eaten the prescribed "ok" amount before getting up and declaring myself "satisfied".
My mom will be astounded to find out that my Ghanaian sister has found the key to making me WANT to do the laundry and the dishes. Yep. Reverse psychology still works on Dara. The key is to act like I am too much like an ignorant child to know the correct way to do it. Don't allow me to do it for two weeks, and then allow me to take on the least complicated parts of the task, such as rinsing... after seeing that I can handle that ok, let me graduate to the actual washing of the dishes or the laundry, but be sure to ask me every so often whether I need help or can I do it by myself. You can be sure that I will pipe up with "I can do it! I don't need help, REALLY!!"
I am hoping that by the end of my homestay, I can graduate to cooking a meal by myself. Today, my sister let me peel an orange, so I am pretty happy today.
I hope to update more later! Keep praying for me!
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Ete Sen?
Ok, we will see how much I can power write in the less than fifteen minutes that I have left on this computer.
Sorry it has taken me so long to put up my first official post from Ghana, but here it is!
I arrived in Ghana about two weeks ago, and everything has been a whirlwind ever since.
Ok, So I will start at the beginning and say as much as I can.
Staging seems like three years ago in Philly, but the highlight was that I got to know my other PCT's (That is Peace Corps Trainees for the acronym challenged - and there are a LOT of acronyms in the Peace Corps).
The flight was really long, and needless to say we were all exhausted when we got to Accra (pronounced Ah-KRAH). The first thing I noticed about Ghana was the sky. It was about sunset, and it was pretty amazing looking.
Accra is big and crowded, and can be fairly confusing, but we eventually got to explore a bit and get somewhat familiar with it before we went on our Vision Quest (several day trips to visit a current volunteer at his or her site).
I had my first Tro Tro rides... Think of a five hour ride in an old Eurovan packed with about twenty people plus baggage, and you have an idea of what a Tro Tro is like. I have been learning my first Twi - "Maachi" is "Good Morning"...
I have hiked to an amazing waterfall (ok, for those who hike in Colorado - imagine hiking with a hot wet towel over your head - not like the crisp air on Pikes Peak.) I bought some awesome beads at a bead market. I have eaten Banku at a Chief's house. And a lot of other experiences that I unfortunately am out of time and unable to write about.
But, I do want to let everyone know - I have found out where my site will be - in the Volta region, right next to lake Volta. I can not post the exact location on my blog, but if you are curious, you can email me, and I will let you know what town it is closest to. I have already had my first lesson in Ewe (pronounced Eh-vey). This is a little bit tough, because in class I am learning Ewe, and at my homestay,my family is teaching me Twi. Hope I don't get too confused.
My family is very awesome, by the way. I hope to be able to write more about them later.
for now I have to go.
Love and miss you all!
Sorry it has taken me so long to put up my first official post from Ghana, but here it is!
I arrived in Ghana about two weeks ago, and everything has been a whirlwind ever since.
Ok, So I will start at the beginning and say as much as I can.
Staging seems like three years ago in Philly, but the highlight was that I got to know my other PCT's (That is Peace Corps Trainees for the acronym challenged - and there are a LOT of acronyms in the Peace Corps).
The flight was really long, and needless to say we were all exhausted when we got to Accra (pronounced Ah-KRAH). The first thing I noticed about Ghana was the sky. It was about sunset, and it was pretty amazing looking.
Accra is big and crowded, and can be fairly confusing, but we eventually got to explore a bit and get somewhat familiar with it before we went on our Vision Quest (several day trips to visit a current volunteer at his or her site).
I had my first Tro Tro rides... Think of a five hour ride in an old Eurovan packed with about twenty people plus baggage, and you have an idea of what a Tro Tro is like. I have been learning my first Twi - "Maachi" is "Good Morning"...
I have hiked to an amazing waterfall (ok, for those who hike in Colorado - imagine hiking with a hot wet towel over your head - not like the crisp air on Pikes Peak.) I bought some awesome beads at a bead market. I have eaten Banku at a Chief's house. And a lot of other experiences that I unfortunately am out of time and unable to write about.
But, I do want to let everyone know - I have found out where my site will be - in the Volta region, right next to lake Volta. I can not post the exact location on my blog, but if you are curious, you can email me, and I will let you know what town it is closest to. I have already had my first lesson in Ewe (pronounced Eh-vey). This is a little bit tough, because in class I am learning Ewe, and at my homestay,my family is teaching me Twi. Hope I don't get too confused.
My family is very awesome, by the way. I hope to be able to write more about them later.
for now I have to go.
Love and miss you all!
Monday, September 11, 2006
One week until I leave for staging!
Well, I have finally gotten around to setting up this blog. It took me long enough, considering that I started telling people that I would be doing this at least four months ago. Dara's procrastination strikes again!
Before I go any further, let me say a little bit about the purpose of this page. I will be serving for two years (well, two years and three months to be exact) with the Peace Corps in Ghana. I am creating this blog so that I can tell friends and family a bit about what is going on with me as I serve in the P.C. This way, if a friend wants to contact me by email, I am hoping to be able to spend more time on personal correspondence, instead of having to fill all of my emails with different versions of "well, this is what has been happening with me for the past three months..."
Also, the P.C. has three main goals;
1. To help the people of interested countries in meeting their needs for trained men and women;
2. To help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served;
3. To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of all Americans.
I am hoping that this blog will help serve the third goal through giving those reading this blog a better understanding of the people and culture of Ghana.
I am very excited to be leaving for Ghana next week - and getting pretty nervous... not nervous in the way you would expect, but just with the realization of all that I have to get done before I can leave. I pretty much have been pushing the BIG SCARY thoughts out of my head as much as possible. I am not very good at anticipating things ahead of time, so it probably won't hit me very much until I am over there that I will be so long away from family and friends, surrounded by a culture and languages that I don't understand.
So, anyway. I just thought I would get this thing started. I don't know how much access to internet I will have over there, or how often I will be able to update it, but I am hoping that at least once a month I will be able to let people know what is going on. And I will post pictures as I can.
Pray for me as I go into my new adventure!
Before I go any further, let me say a little bit about the purpose of this page. I will be serving for two years (well, two years and three months to be exact) with the Peace Corps in Ghana. I am creating this blog so that I can tell friends and family a bit about what is going on with me as I serve in the P.C. This way, if a friend wants to contact me by email, I am hoping to be able to spend more time on personal correspondence, instead of having to fill all of my emails with different versions of "well, this is what has been happening with me for the past three months..."
Also, the P.C. has three main goals;
1. To help the people of interested countries in meeting their needs for trained men and women;
2. To help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served;
3. To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of all Americans.
I am hoping that this blog will help serve the third goal through giving those reading this blog a better understanding of the people and culture of Ghana.
I am very excited to be leaving for Ghana next week - and getting pretty nervous... not nervous in the way you would expect, but just with the realization of all that I have to get done before I can leave. I pretty much have been pushing the BIG SCARY thoughts out of my head as much as possible. I am not very good at anticipating things ahead of time, so it probably won't hit me very much until I am over there that I will be so long away from family and friends, surrounded by a culture and languages that I don't understand.
So, anyway. I just thought I would get this thing started. I don't know how much access to internet I will have over there, or how often I will be able to update it, but I am hoping that at least once a month I will be able to let people know what is going on. And I will post pictures as I can.
Pray for me as I go into my new adventure!
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