Sweat Rags, Sweaters, and Simple Things

From sweat rag to sweater: an alphabet of things I love and miss about Ghana, and things I’m enjoying about being in Canada. There are definitely more, for each side, but I thought this might serve as a good start.

I hope this gives you a window into the simple things in life – sometimes, it’s the simple things that count, and these are my simple things.

	Ghana	Canada
A	Afternoons under the Mango tree on weekends	Apples
B	Biking to work on my one-speed Beans and gari Bolga adventures Bucket showers Bananas (the good ones)	Biking across the bridge to Halifax Baked beans Baked anything, really
C	Cooli Cooli (possibly misspelled) – a groundnut-based crunchy snack “Chop” bars (chop meaning eat) Choco delight (chocolate spread like nutella, but better because it’s Ghana made)	Corn on the cob Canoeing Camping Coffee shops Cheese
D	Dege – the delicious yogurt with couscous in Bolga	Dogs that don’t all look the same Dunes
E	Egg-and-bread stands	EWBBC Matrix episode (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-L4S2kW6hk)
F	Fanyogo! – frozen yogurt in a bag Fanice bicycles Fufu (plantain-based mush ball)	Fog Fridges and freezers Farmers markets Free samples
G	Groundnut paste (obviously) Guinea fowls (incredibly unintelligent and ugly, but hilarious)	Gardens Globe and Mail Gas stovetops
H	Handshakes with a snap	Hiking Cape Chignecto with my brother Hotdog stands in Toronto
I	Internet cafes with air conditioning	Internet everywhere Ice cream trucks
J	Jogging at 5:30am (very unlikely in Canada) Judgement day billboards	Jelly Bellies
K	KOKO! My morning porridge.	I can’t think of any K’s because I miss Koko so much.
L	“Leafy vegetables” stew – never found out what they actually are	Lawrencetown beach Lupins Lobster rolls at corner store in West Advocate, NS
M	Mud houses Maize fields (or roasted maize) Metro Mass (the bus service) Market day Milo (Nestle hot chocolate)	Massage therapy – thank you health insurance Moss Mustard MEC
N	Nara (early millet) Ninety-nine percent MTN discount	Nine pm sunsets
O	Orange dust on everything I own	Ornamental gnomes – why? (see photo)
P	Peppe sauce Pounding shea nuts/dried peppers/groundnuts Plantains! Pure-water sachets	Picking raspberries Parks Pizza Peaches
Q	Q-tips sellers at bus stations (in case your ear wax really builds up as you’re waiting for the bus…)	Queen Anne’s Lace
R	Rain on a tin roof Red dirt roads Red millet TZ (so crazy!)	Rainy movie day Raclette Rocks at the beach Recycling
S	Sleeping outside Splitting groundnuts Sowing seeds Sweat rags	Scrabble with mom Swimming in the freezing lake with gross weeds Sweaters
T	Tro tros and taxis with names – “No hurry in life”, “Such is life” TZ for dinner	Trash cans Travel mugs
U	Ugly sheep (why are sheep in Canada so much cuter?)	Used bookstores
V	Vodaphone painted buildings	Vintage clothing
W	Watching Nollywood movies (terrible Nigerian movies, most with bad acting and poor sound control, but with a catchy theme song)	Waffles Wine
X	X-tra peppe please.	X-ray machine at the dentist – apparently looking at teeth xrays never gets old
Y	Yams (fried, boiled, stacked precariously on bicycles) Yellow flowers on trees that smell really nice as I’m biking to work	Yardsticks on door frames a la David Lombardi
Z	Zain-painted ice cream place in Tamale, with real scoop ice cream!	Zero bars in solid form that aren’t melted all over my passport and wallet

Photo: garden gnome approximately 10km into Cape Chignecto trail. Simple things, to keep us questioning.

From the Ground Up, From the Sky Down

When I started this blog last spring, before I knew Ghana, before I knew my EWB family, my host family, my coworkers at MoFA, I thought I should call my experience “From the ground up”, since I’d be working with farmers and would be learning all about how crops grow in Northern Ghana. And it’s true, just like seeds grow into tall stalks of millet, my knowledge and understanding of farming in Ghana grew as well. But the millet has now finished growing (early millet, that is), and is being harvested, the stalks cut down and the cobs removed – and it seems that now is also the time for me to harvest my knowledge and put it to use. So as I do that, as I try to reflect on this experience and somehow make sense of everything I think I’ve learned, I find myself thinking that maybe, in my haste to focus on growing and farming, I didn’t give the sky enough credit. The sky provides the rain for the millet to grow, the sky brought me to Ghana and back to Canada, and now, the only way that I can really see what I’ve learned from the ground up, is from the sky down.

Last Thursday morning, my last morning with my family in Wiaga, my sister Nesti randomly turned to me and asked “Sister Anne, are there roads in the sky?” My reflex reaction was to say no, but I caught myself before I spoke, and instead replied with “sort-of” – because in a way, there are roads in the sky, they’re just not marked. And you can’t buy watermelons through the window when the plane stops. We chatted about air travel for a while, I told her about the toilets on board, the free drinks and bad food. She said, “someday, I will go.”

So then the next day, when I was on the road in the sky, I thought a lot about Nesti, and how right now, this year, next year, or even in five years, it’s so unlikely that she will get on a plane. Air travel is a staple for developed countries, and is one of the many things that provides us so many opportunities that others don’t have. When I think about what I want to see in a developed Ghana, it’s not a vision of crowded airports and highways, not stores and offices. The vision I see is not material at all, it’s not things that can be bought or built; rather, what I want for Ghana, what I want for the world, is opportunity and choice, happiness and appreciation. I want Nesti to be able to save her money if she wants and take a plane somewhere; I want Nesti to be able to find answers to her questions about the world ALL the time, not just when I’m around; I want Nesti to always value the happiness and strength of her family, to be curious about the world but not think the grass is greener; and I want her to love her life in Ghana, to be able to make the choices that will make her happy.

I’m so so happy now, to have gotten a glimpse of life in Ghana, to have met all the wonderful people I met there, to have learned so much about myself, about the world in which I live, and about the world in which I want to live. Ghana has taught me so many things; it has taught me how to be patient, how to fight for some things but accept others, how to let go of the wheel sometimes. It’s taught me that hard work is the only kind of work, that you’re always part of a team, that you should accept help when it’s offered. It’s taught me that happiness is more about the who in life that the what, that everything is better shared, that a simple greeting can spread smiles like wildfire. And it’s taught me so much more, but it’s so hard to put it into words.

My last week in Ghana was full of tears, hugs, love, food, and gifts. I cried in a wide variety of places, including, but not limited to, the office, taxi, bus, on bike, in bath, in guest house, at restaurants, in internet cafe (with large group of school children staring at me), on plane. I got lots of hugs from people I was leaving, and saw my own sadness also reflected in their eyes as they goodbyed me. I enjoyed all of my favourite Ghanaian foods – my Sandema koko seller even gave me an extra big koko the morning I was leaving, as a goodbye gift. I got gifts from my family, my office people, my EWB friends, things that look nice and pretty to others but to me, these simple gifts compile a representation of all that I love about my piece of Ghana.

My return to Canada had many of the same – tears, hugs, love, food, and gifts. I cried when I saw my family at the airport, but cried later that evening because I couldn’t deal with the shock of driving in their nice car, eating a delicious variety of food, having a hot shower. So my tears were bittersweet, like my new morning drink of cocoa powder with small sugar, the drink I enjoyed every morning with my host father, never without loud exclamations from him about my small small sugar.

It’s funny though, how those five things, tears, hugs, love, food, and gifts, were on both sides of the Atlantic, and have been manifested in such different ways that the comparison is almost hidden. But in the end, these five things have shown me that my people in Ghana and my people in Canada want the same thing for me, as I want the same for them: to be happy, to feel loved. And there, I’ve found my balance.

Some of the office crew on my last day at work, me wearing the smock they gave me as a goodbye gift.
My family gave me a painted calabash, it has a picture of the house, and of a black hand holding a white hand, and it says (I quote) :"Welcome to Ghana Ms. Anne (Mr. John Ajabui's House). Have a happy stay and a safe journey home!"

Anne

Where Goodbye is a verb

In Ghana, you’re not going to say goodbye to someone, you’re going to goodbye them. And it seems that now, in an incredibly painful and unfortunate situation, I am goodbying Ghana.

Not painful in the sense that I am in physical danger, please don’t worry like that. The simple, letterhead-worthy explanation is that EWB has recently made the decision that for my own safety, my time in Ghana needs to end earlier than scheduled. Based on consultations with doctors here and in Canada, and based on input from EWB staff in Ghana and in Canada, Trevor, the JF coordinator, has decided that I do not have the physical ability to deal with potential stresses like Malaria or Typhoid, and that the risk to my health is too great for me to finish the final month of my placement.

I was, and am, incredibly upset. I spent several days flip-flopping between tears, frustration, acceptance, and fighting. I looked for any possible way to convince him that this is too much, the risk is not that bad, I would fight malaria the same as anyone else. But despite all my fighting, the decision remains, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I think, and I hope, that I’ve finally accepted it and can spend the remainder of my time here (until Friday) enjoying everything I love about Ghana and making sure I properly goodbye all my coworkers, friends, and family.

It’s incredible though, that my love for this place, for this people, is strong enough that it causes this much pain. I know now how much I love Ghana, how happy I am here. I’ve realized that the relationships I’ve made are so special, are something that won’t disappear with an ocean crossing, and I’m so happy to have experienced all that I have. On Saturday, sitting in the middle seat in a taxi destined for Bolga for a night out with EWB friends, I had a pretty intense realization. It took me almost two months to even like Ghana, and now, I’m just starting to love Ghana. It took a lot of self control to prevent an explosion of sobs in said taxi.

But it’s true, the way I see things has changed so much. Everything is beautiful, everyone is beautiful. The strangest things make me so happy – the names on the backs of taxis and tro-tros, “God is love” or “Such is life” or even “The Black Man” (that one is common, I even saw one today while biking to work), the peculiarities of Ghanaian English, “chop” meaning eat and “this thing” being used to refer to absolutely anything, often impossible to figure out what thing they’re referring to. I love greeting people when I see them, I love sleeping outside in the fresh air, I love eating tz with my family (even with nasty okru stew). I love seeing the AEAs confidently cover an AAB card, love meeting with the Director to discuss progress. I love knowing people who work so hard, are so proud of what they do, and are dedicated to helping others. I love the conversations about Ghana’s future, what needs to happen, what people are doing, and I love that I know people who are driving those changes.

I even love Gbedellembilisi, the home of ridiculous rice valleys that have been the bane of my existence for the past two months. I’m sad that I won’t have a chance to go back and see the rice germinating.
Director said it well: “They have unsettled her physically, psychologically, emotionally, all the allies you can think of”. It really means a lot to me to see him so upset by this news, even more so than the rest of the staff, because it shows me that he cares about me, about the work I’ve been doing, and has truly appreciated working with me over the past two months. We had an intense meeting, director, myself, Ben (extension officer), and Trevor, where Director shared his thoughts on the decision and the way it was carried out - in short, he was fairly unimpressed. The meeting was successful in clearing the air though; thankfully, he’s reconsidering his vow to never work with EWB again.

But, moving forward, it looks like I’ll be able to somehow continue working with EWB’s MoFA team while in Canada. Here, Ben is prepared to train AEAs on the rest of AAB, and they’ll continue the program with their groups. I’ll be able to call sometimes to check in on their progress, and there’s a possibility that they can work with nearby districts to get the rest of the required training for sustainability. I’m also going to help Megan, my coach, with a new initiative she’s trying out, an idea around AEA learning partnerships. And I can use everything I’ve learned while working in Sandema to contribute to the future of AAB, giving feedback and input based on my experiences implementing the program.

There’s really no way for me to properly describe how I feel, but I can honestly say that this is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with – which also says a lot about how lucky I’ve been, that I haven’t had intense stresses in my life. I’m doing my best to enjoy my last week here, and to try and wrap up my work nicely. I made banana pancakes for my family last night, which were pretty delicious if I say so myself, and we also enjoyed some nara, roasted millet harvested fresh from their field. The crops are growing so well that I could probably reach over and pick some maize from the spot on the steps where I brush my teeth – the chickens will always have minty fresh breath from picking at the toothpaste I spit over the wall. They’re just now planting the sweet potato vines (see picture!), and the fresh okru (not near as nasty as dried) will soon be ready. I will miss that house so so much, it’s an incredibly beautiful place with wonderful people, and leaving them my bicycle will not even come close to thanking them for all they’ve given me.

Picture: Ajabui John (my host father) and his amazing sweet potato vines - vines like that are not common. When I first arrived, they were only covering the top of the structure that is now completely obscured. Now he's started to cut pieces of them and plant them in massive mounds of dirt, which are necessary because the bedrock is too close to the soil surface, and by September they will be delicious sweet potatoes. And no, I don't wear that shirt ALL the time, though it is my favorite.

So that’s where I’m at now. I hope that as I have time to reflect more, I'll be able to share my thoughts on all that Ghana has taught me, lessons on happiness, love, trust, dedication, patience (the bus is "on the way coming" for two hours) and so much more.

I’ve gotten so much support from the EWB family here, it’s been amazing, and I’m so grateful to be part of that family. So thanks, everyone, for helping me, supporting me, telling me I’m strong, appreciating what I’ve done and inspiring me to do more.

So for my friends in Builsa, I'm sorry I can't goodbye you proper, but I hope we can meet again some day, small time.

Anne

Forwards and Backwards, Team and Meat - LATE

So I wrote this blog last Tuesday, and am just getting the chance to post it now... a lot has changed since that time, but I'd still like to post this. I'll post again soon with some updates on recent changes, now's just not the best time to do that.

Forwards, because I feel confident that I have a plan for moving forward with my district, a plan for what’s possible, and a plan for how to get there.

Backwards, because I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking about the past, both recent past here in Ghana and my overall past that has shaped who I’ve become.

Team, because I’ve been able to spend the past week with a team of incredible people who I love so much.

Meat, because I’ve eaten more meat in the past week than I have over my entire experience in Ghana. And it has been fabulous. Also meat is team backwards, get it?

Apologies for not posting in quite some time, it’s been a busy time recently, with work at the office and with travel and meetings. We’re just coming out of a JF retreat (mini vacation to Mole National Park for all the short-term volunteers) and Country team meetings, both of which involved all Ghana EWB volunteers coming together to discuss our work and our placements. It was an incredibly productive time, there’s a lot to learn from the experiences other people are having, and getting feedback on my own challenges has really helped me to create a plan for the rest of my placement.

Of the multiple days filled with amazing sessions, the time that stood out most for me was the sector strategy discussion, where all agric. sector volunteers came together to discuss our current programs and what we want to see for the future. Crammed in a small room in a Presbyterian guesthouse, choir practicing loudly in the background, I saw that every one of us has had a unique experience that will somehow help to shape the future of EWB’s work in agriculture in Ghana – I realized then just how awesome our team is, and I felt so proud to be a part of it. I also saw the value in what I have learned so far, value in the long days at the rice valleys and value even in the lonely days at the office. All of it, the discussions, the frustrations, the successes, has given me a better understanding of the realities of Ghanaian agriculture and the ways in which EWB can help develop the agricultural sector.

The sector strategy discussion, and all of the sessions for that matter, where I really listened to the ideas and input from other people, gave me a nice slap in the face – why has it taken me so long to realize the importance of teamwork? I’ve worked with many teams in the past, for school, work, etc, but I’ve never felt their value the way I have this weekend. I’ve been mulling it over, and my hypothesis is this: working alone for so long (well not alone, but working toward a particular goal alone) has made me really crave an outside perspective, that I’ve been craving ideas from others just as much as I’ve been craving rhubarb cheesecake (mom please don’t forget to put rhubarb in the freezer for me...). And now, after this weekend, I feel refreshed, I’ve soaked it all up like a sponge – I’d even go so far as to say that being part of an amazing team is more satisfying than all the rhubarb cheesecake I could eat. Ideally though, I would combine the two.

So what’s next then, you might ask. To keep things short and making some sort of sense, I’ll summarize: Moving forward in the district means creating a sustainability plan for the office, so that AAB will continue after I’m gone. I’ll do this in collaboration with the Director and officers, and everyone will have a particular role to play in making sure AAB is running on the ground; the Director, for example, might be responsible for maintaining AAB as an office priority (on agenda at staff meetings, etc) and providing AEAs with a clear vision of what agribusiness means for Builsa district. The challenge in creating a sustainability plan is finding a balance, where to set the bar for change – because while there are a lot of changes that need to happen for AAB to run smoothly after I leave, there are a lot of factors that will prevent those changes from happening. One such factor, as you might imagine if you’ve been following me through this adventure, is busyness caused by rice block farms. How can AAB be always on the agenda at staff meetings if the meetings keep being cancelled because everyone has to be at Gbedelembillisi (the big rice valley)? However, despite these challenges, I do have confidence that we can work something out – the time I’ve spent with the office staff is really going to help, since I have a good idea of what each staff member is capable of and how they will be most effective.

Last thing: a glimpse into the culinary wonders of Tamale... glorious foods I’ve enjoyed here include fresh muffins (okay, they’re a little dry...), spring rolls, cheese (deep fried), ice cream from a somewhat ice cream parlour, and to top it all off, delicious real meat hamburgers that could compete with any restaurant burger in Canada. Also, we had some amazing cake on Sunday (my birthday), cooked by Luisa (EWB long-term volunteer) from entirely Ghanaian ingredients – decorated with choco delight and chocolate covered groundnuts!

Anne

Farming and Funding

Photo: celebrating a successful farmer group meeting with a bit of dancing!

Farming and Funding

These two f-words are proving to be huge barriers. I didn’t think that funds would be an issue for AAB, because the program doesn’t require any additional funding from MoFA and only needs participation from AEAs (basically just AEAs doing their job). However, it keeps coming back, this funds thing, crushing my goals like a sledgehammer. It is because of lack of funds that my main AEA, Sumaila (I’ve mentioned him many times, he’s the AEA for Sandema) has no moto or bicycle and hence cannot travel to meet his groups. We had been meeting a group that comes to the office, but they’ve stopped meeting for the rainy season; it’s much easier for groups to meet in their own communities, because the meeting won’t take as much time out of their busy day.

I wanted to get as many groups as possible, especially in the Sandema area because it’s most feasible for me to meet them, so I asked Sumaila if there are other groups we could meet. He said yes, there are plenty, but because he has no means of transport he cannot meet them. I find this incredibly frustrating – when I first arrived in the district, I asked the director how many groups each AEA should have. He said at least 6. Sumaila has one.

The problem is, he doesn’t actually seem overly concerned about this, I think that since no one has been pushing him to meet groups, he’s slacked off. The Kandema group that we’re supposed to meet ON SUNDAY (if it doesn’t happen this week I’m going to be very upset) is only being taken on because I’m here, I feel. We were actually supposed to meet them Tuesday, had confirmed on Tuesday morning that in fact we would go, but when I asked where Sumaila was at around 1:30 someone informed me that he had gone to the rice valleys. So I went alone, and ended up just meeting the chairwoman to tell her that we’re coming Sunday and will be starting AAB with their group.

The other F-word, farming, is the reason farmers aren’t meeting. One AEA told me that he meets groups quite regularly in the dry season, but the majority of them do not meet for the rainy season, and if we try to call them for a meeting only about half will come – unless of course there is some kind of handout involved, then they’ll come by the masses.
So since the farming thing is keeping everyone so busy, I’ve been thinking more about the livestock side, after the livestock as a business workshop we did a few weeks ago. This was part of the Livestock Development Program, which, it turns out, started in 2004 and this is its final year. Initially, the program gave farmers money to buy animals, and they had to pay it back after two years – I’m sure you can imagine the issues there. So this year, they switched to credit-in-kind, and that will continue after the program officially ends.

All program activities are very clearly defined and have certain funds allocated for them (i.e. funds for a training session would be transport, snacks, water); however, the allocations do not allow most effective use of funds. It would be much better for farmers to have training in their own communities, in smaller groups so they could participate more. And instead of one training session, several sessions over a period of time would be more effective. The training needs to be given by veterinary staff, of which there are only two at the office – fortunately, there are Community Livestock Workers (CLWs), volunteers who help farmers with livestock. I want to organize training for CLWs, so they can meet with the livestock farmers and help them with record-keeping, feeding, housing, vaccinations etc – this could be done by vet staff who attended my AAB training. Again, funds have knocked me down. It would take only a small amount to have these people come to the office, but the district apparently has absolutely NO money right now, not even enough to pay for transport and food for 10 people. It’s also slightly frustrating that as I’m talking to the director about these ideas, he’s only half listening – he started writing a “request for...” letter while we were talking. Wonderful.

Things at Ajabuiyede have remained fabulous, of course. I made my curried rice salad on Sunday, they actually really liked it. See photo of massive vat of rice and Ghanaian-size serving (that is Clementia in the picture - she never cooks, but found the idea of Canadian food exciting, so she decided to help. Also note random chicken hanging around to catch scraps. Very normal). We’ve also lately been enjoying this incredibly heavy bean flour cake item, which they tend to drench with oil and salt (hold the oil for me please) – turns out this food is great for unhappy stomachs. I’d argue that it even tops plain rice or saltines as a clogger.

I’ve also taught my 15 year old sister Laadi how to make those embroidery-cotton bracelets that kids (and me) make in Canada. She loves it. That girl is incredible, she is one of the first to get up in the morning and is busy from the moment she wakes to the time she sleeps; by the time I get up (5:30), she has already been to the borehole, probably twice, and has started a fire in the kitchen to reheat yesterday’s leftovers. She goes to school, comes home to do more chores (washing, cleaning pots, fetching water), makes the stew and tz for her mother and brothers and sisters (that wife has only 3 children), and serves everyone – at many points throughout a typical evening, I’ll hear “LAADI!” belted out from someone looking for her help. After dark, while everyone else is relaxing, she’ll do her homework or reading for school. I think of myself at 15 and the comparison is laughable. I wish for Laadi that she will achieve all that she dreams for, big or small, because she deserves it.

Anne