Slowing Down in Ghana...

The rest of the photos

2009-10-15T16:14:00.000-07:00

A selection of the photos--the captions are too long, I know. Easier than creating another blog post.

Kakum Canopy Walkway vs Kew Garden Xstrata Treetop Walkway

2009-08-26T18:48:00.000-07:00

Kakum National Park is one of the few virgin, coastal rainforests remaining in west Africa. The canopy walk is awesome! I also went to Kew Gardens in London on my way back to Boston. They also had a canopy walk. A few comparisons...

	Kakum Canopy Walkway	Kew Xstrata Treetop Walkway
Height	40 m	18 m
View
Length	300 m	200 m
Support	Six trees	Five 12-18m concrete piles
Materials	Steel cables, rope and narrow wood planks	400 tonnes of steel
Construction	No bolts or nails	Very sturdy. AND, the trusses are based on the Fibonacci sequence =-P
"Fauna"	(OK. This was actually at the Bosum Forest Reserve)	(Technically part of the Rhizotron exhibit)

Itin summary + Links to photos

2009-08-25T17:24:00.000-07:00

So I've been back from Ghana for about 10 days. All done with my malarone pills. (Proud of me, Ros-in-Brussels?) I suspect I may have a parasite since I've been eating like a fiend since I've been back, plus some other symptoms that I won't discuss, but it probably is just my excuse to be a glutton.

I've uploaded and sorted most of the photos that I took. I still have tons of video to process, thanks to my handy flip video camera. Here's one with the cutest children I met, and a couple of B-rolls to whet your appetite: Kumasi street-360 and
View of village road from taxi

For those who don't want to click through the various albums some of which have more extensive descriptions (linked below), the photos are compiled here. Most have captions, and usually a map link to indicate another area I visited.

To briefly orient you, the lot consists first of city street scenes in Accra and Kumasi, including central market (or Kejetia market). Photographs of the sheet metal (re)working area at the market are followed by photos of Suame Magazine, reputedly the largest artisan engineer complex, with between 100-200K workers. I asked the folks at ITTU to introduce me to the female mechanics/workers. They thought for a good two minutes and then took me to a body shop. Alas, she was gone for the day.

Ghana-Accra

Suame & Kejetia

Koforidua

Adventures in Koforidua, where I was "kidnapped" by Reverend Freeman Opoku, who led me to two different large markets and a funeral in the next town are posted here. Unfortunately, I visited Koff-town before I realized Bikes Not Bombs had an outfit here that has trained six mechanics, including one female. Well, OK, I met here in Kumasi when she and another colleague visited IDDS.

The kente weaving village I visited was Bonwire, about an hour northwest of Kumasi (don't ask me about distances!). I was told there was one female weaver there, but she is in such "high demand" because she is so rare, that she usually tours. There are also pictures of adinkra cloth printing. The young man who showed me around town is supposedly on his way to Detroit for college this fall. And he said he attended UMass Boston a couple of years ago!

The Besease shrine is one of a handful of rebuilt/intact shrines in the area. The wiry caretaker assembled a bunch of tortoise(s) (shells) while I looked around. So cute!

I visited both Elmina and Cape Coast "castles". So much sadness. So much resilience. So much history, not only the painful part, but the glorious kingdoms and knowledge of Africa, that we don't teach or learn about. Grateful to have attended one of the Panafest events, that both honored the past and emanated hope for a brighter future.

(gear change) The penultimate set of pictures consist of my serious R&R at a tranquil seafront hotel in Akwidaa, (blog post here) and then the good people at Pokuase who will take care of Science Club for Girls in Ghana the coming year!

This is essentially the travel itin. Reflections will take a little while...

Fishing villages

2009-08-14T01:23:00.000-07:00

Akwidaa
Eight men processed to a waiting piroque in the estuary with a
fishing net.

On my hike back from the Cape Three Points Forest Reserve, a bunch of fishing boats have pulled in, unloading their catches. Fisherman (and a couple of women) emptied the basins of fish, sorted them into piles, and I presume, began bidding for them.

Cape Coast and Elmina
Just behind the Cape Coast Castle, beyond the Door of (No) Return, lies a busy beach with boats coming and going, being hauled up onto the beach on planks and logs, men selling fish, mending nets.

The Elmina Castle is bordered by a less hectic estuary.

Photos, finally!

2009-08-14T01:06:00.001-07:00

Two common types of non-H2O libation in Ghana are soft drinks and fresh coconuts. I've not more Fanta orange and lemon during this trip than I have had in 15 years. They are yummy. The pineapple pop was a bit too sweet for me. (Well, there's of course the water satchets that are supposed to be purified, sold on the streets for 5-15 pesawas. You bite off a corner and suck or squeeze the water into your mouth. Needless to say, the streets and coutryside are littered with them, and many organizations are trying to make coin bags, satchels etc with these and other drinks wrappers).

As for fresh coconuts, there are two kinds, soft and hard. Suffice it to say even their hard coconuts is not even remotely close to the hard dried excuses of white matter we get in the states. For 50 pesewas, he seller hacks open the coconut leaving a 1.5 inch hole at the top, from which you sip the refreshing juice. It's not sweet, but lightly flavored. I've had ones that probably had a good liter of liquid in it that I struggled to put down. Then he takes it back and cuts the nut open into 3 or 4 pieces. He also fashions a pentagonal piece with a slightly sharp edge on one end. The expert Ghanaians scoop out the pulp, but after 1-2 times, I had the seller do it for me. Soft, and more coconut-y than the juice. Lip-smacking good.

The other drink that's popular here is Malta, a dark slightly fizzy drink that's supposed to be composed of malt, which I love. I thought it tastes like molasses. Shall we say it's an acquired taste?

Can't believe I'm leaving!!

2009-08-11T14:13:00.000-07:00

I arrived in my little hotel in Accra yesterday a tiny bit depressed. The teacher's workshop went OK--not as hands-on as I would have liked because not all the materials were available. Yes, beating myself over my head that I could have tried harder. I also didn't realize the teachers were expecting to get paid their stipend then, so they were not happy when they left. Then it was me and myself in a dingy hotel room without Ben, after several days around people. And I have to leave Ghana. I was also dead tired, not having slept the night before--that's enough to get one down without all the other factors.

So I get ready to go to dinner and realize I only had 7 cedis on me. Of course it's way after hours and even the forex bureaux were closed. So, em, a cleanse for my stomach with some Voltic.

Today was much better. Good night's sleep, had a zatar croissant that was quite good, bought my souvenirs in the morning. Then I spent most of the afternoon around Makola market purchasing stationery and materials for the science clubs, again realizing I'm not much of a haggler.

Makola market, from what I have seen, consists of a three- or five-storey building with a narrow "courtyard" and very small (3' x 5') stores spilling onto the verandah; a sprawling market with sections selling enameled and aluminium houseware in one section (the cutest nested pots displayed), plasticware in another and utensils, both wooden and metal, in a third. Then there's the cloth section, including an enclosed area where women were making shirts and dresses; the sewing accessories section; and the beauty stores--lotions and shampoo and other hair accessories, including real human hair. And of course, sandals, and shoes. At the food market, I saw many crabs, which one never finds in a restaurant, or even on the road side. (The only other glimpse of crustaceans was on the road between Accra and Cape Coast, where they sell prawns on a stick by the road side. Oh, and there was lobster on the menu at Safari Beach). I also saw the first set of glazed pottery at Makola.

Though still busy, this market is like a stroll in the park compared to Kejetia in Kumasi, maybe one quarter of the size. Kejetsia is supposedly THE largest market in west Africa. More about that market later. Suffice it to say that Ben bought a cake pan in the shape of Ghana.

One phenomenon that took me several iterations to figure out was that girls with empty basins on their heads will follow you and offer to be your porter. (I had three big bags with me towards the end). The girls' english was not good, so I couldn't quite determine what they wanted, and even asked the first girl if she had something to sell me. The last girl, when I finally was smart enough to figure it out, followed me around, but only just outside the walls of the market. I should've just offered them a few pesawas.

Since my flight is at 10:40 p.m. I decided to enjoy dinner at a restaurant, Tribes at Afia Village Hotel, by the ocean tonight. I ordered the same meal I had at Baku the first day I arrived in Accra, another serene spot. It was a beautiful ending for my trip, the ocean breeze and waves at a distance, away from the dust and people, and lovely food. The difference was that this restaurant were mostly obroni, the other locals. And yes, there were mosquitoes, but thankfully and wisely, I had my DEET! (And there was an englishwoman berating a Ghanaian researcher on his experimental method, plus the lack of impact/intervention of his study on HIV-infected women, except perhaps to reduce stigma. I should have given her a thumbs up.

Curiously, I ran into a family who were on the same tour as I at Cape Coast at the restaurant. They offered me half a glass of the most delicious red wine I've had. Smoother than anything I've had. Because, it's a $100-bottle he brought over from France.

Then at the airport, I ran into Jessie, one of the Mormon girls from Boston I met at my trip to Kakum National Park. She was short $25 for the extra departure tax, so I spotted her. I figured she'll pay me back. But here I am in the business class lounge, ignoring them! =-)

And I'm going to miss Ben doing tango at the IDDS talent show!!

Onto the plance I go!!

Science Club for Girls in Ghana!

2009-08-09T20:31:00.000-07:00

It's 3:30 am. I'm staying up to wake up the taxi driver to take me to the bus station, so I can catch one of the earliest buses from Kumasi down towards Accra. In about 7 hours, I will be delivering a 4-hour workshop to 10 teachers from the Pokuase area, to prepare them to lead Science Clubs at their schools in the coming year.

I delivered the first workshop to 14 teachers and 2 principals about 10 days ago. That particular workshop focused on regarding science as a process, and the importance of hands-on (practical) exercises as a way to learn and experience science. I also introduced the learning cycle and questioning techniques as ways to engage student thinking and participation.

Teachers Workshop

(Click on photo to go to album)

I considered the workshop a success. 7 schools in and around Pokuase were represented. The teachers were attentive and participated enthusiastically. The evaluations suggested that teachers were hungering for professional development--many said the 2.5-hour workshop was not long enough, and wished for additional opportunities. They certainly wanted more hands-on examples that were related to the curriculum. It would certainly be worthwhile to have more time to sit down with teachers and work through specific questions to use and more concrete ways to introduce topics, as I only had time to do so with one set of them.

Importantly, one person wrote that this was probably the first time that teachers had the opportunity to gather and hear from each other and learn from each other's practices. It was certainly important and encouraging to me that many of them were very proactive and already engaged in good science teaching practices, and for their colleagues to realize it is possible to teach science differently. The evaluation suggested that almost of all them recognized the importance of the practical as complementary to the "theory" and all said they would definitely change the way they teach as a result of the workshop. Moreover, each school wanted copies of the skits--two different scenarios for wrapping up a session--from the dogmatic, intimidating teacher to the encouraging "guide of the side". My only worry is that a few may have thought both were positive examples of teacher-student interaction.

Today's training will be with 10 teachers, who will work in pairs to recruit girls in 4th grade and conduct science clubs. They will definitely be getting a lot of hands-on experience. The hope is that not only will girls in the clubs benefit, but the training and experience will provide substantive resources that will also transform teaching in the school day classroom.

With luck, Dr. Olivia Kwapong at the University of Ghana and Frances (MIT alum living in Accra) will also be able to connect me with additional like-minded Ghanaian individuals and/or institutions here so we can have local counsellors and oversight.

Crossing my fingers!

Tic tac toe

2009-08-09T19:23:00.000-07:00

After the workshop, I wandered through the village around the main round in Pokuase, and ended up in an open area where a group of about ten children were playing and laughing. I watched them for a while, and of course, they came up, shouting “Obroni” and wanting their pictures taken. I obliged and they were delighted.

I ended up spending about an hour teaching and watching them play tic-tac-toe and "hangman", which I renamed "draw a little girl" in the dirt with a growing group of kids. One of the girls, Sarah, caught up to the game and tactics immediately, and I crowned her the Tic Tac Toe champion of Pokuase. Lots of fun.

From Ghana-Pokuase

An older woman had been persistently waving me down to come visit when I was with the kids. During a lull in the game, a young girl came and invited me with urgency to visit this woman, so I stepped into her family’s compound and sat on a stool across from her. Two women, another Connie and her mother were making banku, pounding away over a fire to the left, while a third, Precious, sat towards the back against the house, tending to her son who has malaria. His mother said he has been to the clinic but obviously looked very tired. She showed me the medication. After all these years of studying the parasite in the lab, this was my first interaction with a patient with the disease.

Precious seemed to be a happy-go-lucky type, who also delighted in showing me her nephew and niece, both around a year. Precious would pick the poor girl up with one arm, and laughed at how emaciated she was. The girl was obviously distressed by the rough handling and the sneering, and quickly hid herself when let go. I made a sympathetic face, and asked if the girl was feeding properly and if she had been gaining weight. The answer was apparently yes, but I could not be sure. The boy, who was rotund if not obese, was equally made a spectacle, drawing more laughs from Precious and Connie and the rest of the compound.

Finally, the grandmother, the woman who drew me into the compound, started speaking to me—in Twi. I guessed that she must have had a serious infection or abscess in her right foot, which was discreetly covered by a handkerchief tied around her ankle. She mentioned some doctor, Richard, and gestured that he had made a cut. Thankfully, she did not lift the handkerchief. It did not smell, so at least that was a good sign. In any case, I really felt like I'm the kind of doctor that doesn't do anyone any good.

I left, with a trail of kids behind me. I guess that must be how it feels if you had a fan club!

[I had promised the kids that I would return the next week. I did, but had a rough time finding the same spot. I wandered around for a good thirty minutes, in and out of alleys and dead ends. I know I did not venture very far into the village from the main road. But I really had no point of reference. And I had those chirpy chicks to show them…]

A taste of paradise at Akwidaa

2009-08-06T12:15:00.000-07:00

Bliss. And an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything that I have. That's how I felt during the three days that I was in Akwidaa, an idyllic fishing village at the mouth of an estuary and bordering the Atlantic Ocean. I arrived late Saturday afternoon, apparently on the wrong tro-tro, which took the new town route. The route to the old town, though still an unpaved road, was like a Formula One racetrack compared to the deeply gullied dried mud path that the inbound van took. People literally dusted themselves off when the got off the van.

As usual, several people asked where I needed to go, and pointed me in the right direction. "Go down the hill, over the bridge, and it's two beaches down from the village". So down the small hill I went. And that's when my "blessings" started to mount. First, the overcast sky that I've been under for the past three days lent way to a warm setting sun and luminous light. As I emerged from the houses onto the beach below, three brightly colored pirogues (long fishing boats) greeted me on the estuary, with the village across, and beyond that, the deep blue of the Atlantic Ocean. To my right, a narrow wooden bridge held up by what looked like sticks connects the mainland to the village. As I approached, four young people bearing twigs and small logs on their heads cross the bridge, silhoutted against the blue sky, a small promontory in the distance. Of course I stopped to take a photo. As I'm crossing the bridge, I can't but think to myself, "I have entered paradise". I tried to send Ben a text message but alas, no signal.

(Click on photo to go to album)

And then it gets better. I walk along the sandy beach, golden light and warm breeze on my skin, the Atlantic crashing twenty feet to my right, foaming and racing onto the beach, while on my left, palm trees. You know, the "stereotypical" beach scene. My small backpack feels even lighter, and I have a spring in my step. I am so lucky, I think to myself.

I pass by the first beach, where the Green Turtle Lodge was located, accompanied by two young boys from the village both waiting for their examination results and uncertain of their ability to pay for high school). I have tried to make a reservation there, but they were full, and I was glad I had to stay further down. I am sure everyone there is very nice, but they certainly cater to the younger, backpacking/student volunteering crowd. So on I go, round another bend before I reach the Safari Beach Lodge.

And by a convoluted arrangement that I won't go into, I get to stay in a very tastefully decorated ocean front chalet as big as my living room, with a 4-poster king size bed and an almost perfect view for $40/night. (View marred by stump of palm tree smack dab in the middle of field of vision from the bed). I decided I could afford to splurge.

Dinner--seared halibut-like fish in a bright red lobster sauce that tasted like the sea; with a fluffy yam cake, crunchy on the outside and soft but not starchy. I asked for a side of the corn relish that accompanied the beef dish. Such a good choice as the smell of cloves filled my senses, followed by the slight crunch of the sweet corn, and then just enough heat from the chilies to tingle. After meal after meal of banku, palaver sauce, fried plantains and rice, this was a very welcome change.

And the atmosphere was lovely. The jazz music and the kerosene lamps, and yes, again, the crashing waves. I smiled and tasted, and danced in my head, and my thoughts were flooded with all the things that I have the privilege of enjoying, many without thinking. Never again can I ever step into a hot shower; turn on a faucet with potable, running water; flip the switch for instant on lighting; flush the toilet; put a plastic object into the recycling bin; pick up a book; eat a meal; step on an airplane etc, without being thankful. Indeed, I was so profoundly grateful, so profoundly aware of my privilege, I don't quite know whether to feel happy or sad.

Slowing down=not checking email...

2009-07-29T14:15:00.000-07:00

Has it been 10 days already!? In fact, this is a good sign.

So I'm back in Pokuase, having taken a gyil (xylophone) lesson and tried my unshakeable a-- at west African dance last Wednesday; visited the Thursday bead market in Kofuridua (a name I cannot pronounce for the life of me), and being "kidnapped" by Reverend Freeman Okupe who preyed on my small bladder, and tempted me with a clean bathroom. He then led me through the gigantic, maze-like food market, reminiscent of a souk, introducing me to half of his family members who were merchants there; took me in a shared taxi to a funeral in the next town, where I met the chief and had to shake hands with all the elders sitting in the front rows; and finally took me to his church where we jumped the line to see his bishop, who pronounced an energetic blessing on me and my journey. Rev. Freeman then put me on a tro-tro to Bonsu, where I almost had to sit in front of a large basket of dried fish, which he and the driver and three other men spent 15 minutes tying and squishing into the back of the van.

And I arrived (after a few more adventures that I won't bore you) at the Bunso Arboretum, to be told by Charles, one of the tour guides, or should I say, the tour guide for the day, that I should wait till the next day for a private tour, and stay at their guesthouse instead. I was thrilled, because I had wanted to but just couldn't get through on the phone. But when we got to the top of the hill, we (me and the very helpful security guard Isaac) were told by the caretaker that "everything's been taken away". Whatever that meant. It was the end of a long day, and I was mad.

As I was debating whether to skip this arboretum (did I mention it's 4:30 p.m. by now?) and head straight to Kumasi to see Ben, Liesel, from Canberra, Australia, who's been travelling for the past 5 weeks--showed up. After much deliberation and phone calls to guesthouses, we ended up at the caretaker's village, which, lo and behold, was the location of Cocoa Research Center, an attempt at eco-tourism that was only partly funded, and hence, in spite of the electric sockets and compact fluorescent lightbulbs, we relied on kerosene lamps. But we did happen to run into Ama, who lives now in Kentucky with her husband, but who has returned this summer, bringing her teenage daughter for the first time. Ama and her husband had built a primary school there. She and Liesel started to talk about tennis with great passion. They exchanged phone numbers and I believe they will be attending the Australian Open together next year.

Liesel and the myriad mysterious mosquito-like bites

Um, all this was on Thursday...and I haven't even mentioned the dinner--which for $1 GHC, was probably the best I've had.

Did see the arboretum on Friday, disappointed that they didn't really have a butterfly sanctuary. Then it was off to big city Kumasi to see Ben!

(Preview: Friday-Tuesday. Ben-yippee! Kumasi-cloth shopping. Tailoring. Met probably the only female bike mechanic in Ghana! Otherwise, a "normal" life where Ben ran around with his yellow bag, and passed out at the end of the night. Except we now take malaria pills and often applied DEET together. Romance restored!)

A xylophone (gyil) lesson

2009-07-22T15:03:00.000-07:00

I now remember why I decided I can't keep journals. One is always behind! So many observations and thoughts, so little time. But no matter-this is not a journal, right?

Today, I took a xylophone (gyil) lesson from master Bernard Woma, who runs the Dagara Music Center. He told me today that he showed the two little Obama girls how to play drums etc when their parents were out on business during their recent visit to Accra. Two degrees of separation. Thank you very much.

(Lecture mode). The gyil is a 14-key instrument that uses a pentatonic scale. I love how the key combinations are referred to: an octave is brother & sister; "fourths" as uncle; "thirds" as nieces; and neighboring keys as friends. Go read the rest on Wikipedia.

Of course, I was only able to do simple rhythms, but it was a glaring reminder of how much my mind wanders. Of course the moment it does, I lose track of either the key or the beat. It's the odd combination of getting your body to feel the music and become rhythmic, while at the same time maintaining enough attention and thinking far enough ahead to not miss the key and know what one's supposed to do. I guess I just haven't built up enough muscle memory in the short hour. (But I did earn my blisters). Plus, he is very good and I just want to listen to and watch him play.

But people, I have a video of the two of us playing together. Given the internet speeds here, it will have to wait till I return to Boston. And I hope to take another lesson next week when I come back. I can definitely get addicted.

I then stayed around and met this beautiful young woman who has been dancing for the past 14 years, and was the instructor of the African dance workshop later in the afternoon. I couldn't stay away and joined in the group of college students from West Virginia U. You can imagine how we looked, especially to the villagers who gathered to watch. Certainly a good way to work off the banku and fufu!

Day 2.5 --What time is it and why should I care?

2009-07-20T12:53:00.000-07:00

I'm in Pokuase, about an hour north of Accra. They are expanding the highway to Kumasi, which means the majority of the road from Accra to here is dirt roads with serious potholes the size of pigs.

Here to conduct workshops on the nature of science for elementary school teachers. And hopefully get a few of them to agree to run Science Clubs as an after school program. Will also make connections at the University of Ghana to see if we can get some faculty and students to help us in the future.

Was planning on staying here 2 days, may be longer.

----
Books started: 3
Books finished:0
Rishi Reddi's Karma and other short stories
Luscious characters who's skin you can crawl under (and a few who make your skin crawl). Reddi can access the main chracters' emotional depths through a short turn of phrase here, a pause in thought there. The stories are like very good chocolates. You really want to devour the whole box in one go, but at the same time want to savour each one and make the experience last forever. Good thing is that short stories, unlike their cocoa delicacies, can in fact be experienced again. I'm definitely bringing this one back with me.

Gregg Easterbrook's Paradox of Progress. I'm glad I picked this off the street. Need I say more? Well, I mean I agree with him that it's an annoying fact of human nature and modern life that we are not more appreciative of what we truly have, since as he argues, when compared to 2-3 generations ago, the trendline on almost all counts from stuff to health outcomes to have been positive. And though he seems a bit out of touch, he does spend a chapter on those in poverty. On the other hand, I'm 3/4 of the way through and still waiting for something insightful, waiting for his lecturing to end. (not that I don't agree that being more thankful and forgiving would increase one's perception of happiness). His factoids are useful, but even I'm not convinced...This book makes me realize that I can be a journalist--have a pet theory, find a few factoids or research papers to prove your point, make a recommendation (and some bucks) and walk away. (Seriously, I really only have respect for investigative journalists).

Larry Rosenberg's Breath by Breath. My x attempt or, continued quest (to put it in a Buddhist, non-judgmental way) at understanding and practicing meditation to calm my mind, and to learn to be and be aware. So far so good. Always good to be reminded that it's not always about getting there. Which is how I want this trip to be. I have a guidebook, but I need not visit every place, need not, as Gregg Easterbrook suggests, have the Anxiety of Choice. Yes, I am well aware that picking which resort to visit, whether I should switch from visiting the coast to the lake, are luxurious choices that are highly incongruent with what I'm actually seeing. (I did stay in a crummy hotel when I was in Accra, though they did very kindly send a staff to pick me up at the airport. I truly loved taking the tro-tros. Kind of like the minivans in Hong Kong, except they stop anywhere along the way to pick up passengers and the doors are usually precarious. But they drive just as fast...But if you know me, you know I love taking public transportation of all sorts. I just read about some retired englishman who is trying to set a record in riding different types of transports--including wheelchairs and fire lifts. That's clearly not for me.

(Oh. For those who can't live without an answer--the only reason I need to know that time is that I need to take my malaria pills daily. I'm not on a schedule...until I need to catch my first long distance bus!)

24 hours before take-off

2009-07-16T18:58:00.000-07:00

Wow. By this time tomorrow night, I will be on a plane to London. Thank goodness for frequent flier miles and, my procrastination which forced me to fly business class. Yes, poor me! But hey, this is my FIRST time flying business class. Ever. Too bad I'm not a drinker. But I'm certainly looking forward to the comfy sleeping arrangement!

I was all stressed out about having to finish grants and what not before I go, but since I have a 5 hour lay-over in London prior to my seven-hour flight to Accra, well, I, um, will be working. I cannot be expected to go cold turkey, can I??