It's raining sandwiches!

... or at least it was the other night, when I was awaken from a wonderful dream about sandwiches by the sound of pounding rain on my metal roof. It rained four times this week, which is pretty significant. It’s wonderful, really, when it rains; not only is it a spectacle unto itself, it also leaves a lovely coolness afterward – one night, I even pulled my over-sheet out of my pillowcase to use as a blanket! When I bike to work in the morning after it rains, the air seems clear and fresh, it smells like spring, and the green is almost fluorescent. I love it.

These blogs are getting longer and longer. My apologies.

Office Life

This has been a fairly eventful work week, although unfortunately it did not involve a lot of formal AAB work. On Wednesday, Sandema hosted the 2^nd Annual Regional Seed Fair, part of the Emergency Rice Initiative Program sponsored by USAID and Catholic Relief Services. In this program, farmers are classified as viable or vulnerable, and depending on this status can receive ½ an acre’s worth of rice seeds at half price (viable) or free (vulnerable). The idea is that they can plant a small plot of rice for household consumption, to decrease hunger problems. Unfortunately, only 76 of the 341 registered farmers showed up on Wednesday to collect their seeds, likely because the rest were busy planting. So all these dignitaries showed up for the fair, to make all kinds of speeches to farmers, who sat there listening for several hours when really all they wanted was to pick up their seeds, get their free drinks, and go back to their farms. The whole event seemed like a waste of time to me, but maybe I don’t know enough about the program to make a judgement. However, Sumaila told me that some people will just boil the rice seeds and eat them that way, not plant them – I’d be interested in knowing how often, percentage-wise, that people don’t plant the seeds they receive.

Aside from the seed fair, there has been a lot of field work which has postponed any sort of farmer group meetings. Next week will be AAB training, and I’ve had several casual conversations with AEAs about their potential farmer groups and they all seem to be excited to get it started; they just keep saying “after planting is done...”. Rough time to be implementing a new program.

Despite the AAB setbacks, I’m definitely settling in well at the office; everyone is very friendly and I’ve had lots of good conversations with people about MoFA’s work or development in general. Talking to Ghanaians about Ghana’s problems is really interesting, and I’m learning a lot about the challenges and opportunities for the country’s development.

The Director wants to give me 10 acres of rice valley to farm, and take the harvest back with me... I think it’s a joke, can never really be too sure. Yesterday he made me try Pito, the locally brewed alcohol, at 8:30 in the morning, and yet would not allow me to buy Nescafe, claiming it to be unhealthy. He’s teaching me a lot about fitting in with local culture, especially as a professional when visiting the field – he recognizes the importance of establishing a good relationship with the community, so that they will respect MoFA and work hard to make the programs successful. Yesterday, for example, we went to a rice valley to supervise broadcasting (which is just throwing rice seeds over the land). Things started off very slowly, people were not organized, but after spending some time with the MoFA team, sharing some jokes and leftover Pito that the Director brought with us, the people were motivated and ready to go. The rest of the day went very smoothly, and they finished about half of their 150 acre valley.

Picture - broadcasting seeds. I'm the white person. That is NOT my bucket hat, it belongs to the Director (thought I should clear that up).

Yede Life

So on the non work side of things, some other news: first, I’m moving out of the bungalow, to live with a family. It’s just across the street, with my friend Clementia’s family – they live in a traditional compound house composed of connected mud buildings, and grow maize around the house. I’m not sure how many people live there, but I’ve met at least 4 daughters and seen many more children hanging around – Clementia is the oldest at 21, and the youngest is probably around 6. Most of the family works on the farm, the children go to school, and Clementia works at the local clinic as an assistant. She says she’s saving her wages for her schooling.

I decided I wanted to move because I wasn’t getting enough of the local lifestyle; at the bungalow, I can sit and watch movies on my laptop and cook myself Canadian (ish) food, which is comfortable, but that’s not the point. I want to be part of a family, be immersed in Ghanaian culture, make connections.

My second piece of news is that I’m going to have my own plot of groundnuts! There is a small piece of land in front of the bungalow that’s not being used, so my neighbour Daniel is going to help me plough it and Clementia is going to help me sow the groundnut seeds. Some will be ready for harvest before I return to Canada, which is really exciting.

Slap-in-the-face moment

Yesterday I was having a conversation with Sumaila and Thomas about vacations. Sumaila told me that Canada is the hardest place to get a visa for, and that even the US is difficult; he’s been rejected by both. He wants to go to Mexico in December for a holiday, but because there is no Mexican Assembly in Ghana he will go to South Africa, visit some friends there, and get his Visa. And he’s one of the most fortunate, a part of the small minority that can afford the luxury of travel.

It made me realize how fortunate we are as Canadians – we can go anywhere in the world, no problem. I have so much opportunity, I’ve already experienced so much, and yet there are so many people here in Builsa for whom just going to Bolga is like a dream. I now feel even more that it is my duty, my responsibility, to ensure that I can impart some piece of the world on every person I meet here, because even the smallest interaction with me might be the closest thing they ever get to a glimpse of the world outside Builsa district. It’s awkward, but it’s true.

Wish me luck with the training!

Anne