Lessons

Yesterday I received a drumming lesson in exchange for a very poor Spanish lesson and US geography and history lesson. I took place with one of Nii’s friends at his woodworking shop overlooking the ocean. My drumming was very poor but it was very enjoyable.  The geography lesson was given using a geography book intended for toddlers. It was a flap book where the states pulled up to revel their names, capital, state bird and state flower.

By the time the lesson ended the sun had set and it was time to close up the shop and we walked through the darkened streets to the house of my drum teacher. The streets in Accra are just a crowded after the sun sets as they are during the day. The street vendors are out and children are playing soccer in the streets. Food sellers light their stands with kerosene lamps and this creates a small and bright halo of light over their table where fish, chicken, and meat pastries are most popular. My new friend’s home was located on the second floor of a colonial building built in the 1700s—colonial buildings located close to the ocean front are the oldest and still some of the biggest in Accra.  Inside were three “African Queens” getting ready to take a bath and good to bed; the youngest being 8 months and the oldest 8 years old, with a shy 4 year old in the middle. I received two “howareyou”s and two high fives. But the youngest was unsure of me, being the first white person to visit her. She looked long and hard at me with two big brown eyes but when I tried to hold her she arched away from me and scrambled to get away; however, upon leaving I was rewarded with a laugh and a wave.

After leaving I returned home in taxi solo, my first venture through Accra on my own. I shared my taxi with three other people and a driver who was either unlucky, partially blind, or else just a very bad driver.  He would serve to miss potholes but still managed to hit what I imagined to be the largest. This was soon solved by a traffic jam that brought us to a stop. The jam was caused by road works which cause a divided highway to go down to just a single lane of traffic each way. Ghanaian traffic jams are slightly more interesting than American ones because you can watch the roadside, and middle of the road, sellers. Popular items were apples, plantain chips, toilet paper, and bread. After we made it through the jam I had my next challenge; finding my way to Nii’s home.

From the main road it is a twisting route through backyards, school yards, and side alleyways, but I felt ready because I had memorized my turns based on the color of houses. However, my skills were not needed because I ran into Nii’s mother, Mama Shelia, and walked home with her.

Pictures and video to come!

Observers Be Worried

I am in Ghana. The flights went ok, always an empty seat next to me. The baggage issue was not great but it could have been worse.  The first guy I talked to was a crabby old man who was not going to give me help.  I then went to repack and then ended up being helped by a very nice lady who let all of my bags be a few pounds overweight without charging me; however, I did still had to pay $350 extra.

I am at an internet café (just internet no café part) in central Accra. I am helping Nii set up a net book that my Professor sent over. I will try and give you a rundown of what I have been doing since I arrived.

After a 9hr and 50min flight I landed in Accra at 7:30am local time. Flying into Accra this time of year, at the end of the rainy season you are met by an overly green tropical landscape running along the beach. The flight over Accra also gives you your first impressions of the city, a city with its own strange kind of movement. To many people and to many taxies and TroTros give it a busy feeling but it is the buildings that give it its interesting feel; it seems a majority of buildings are either slowly falling down are slowly being built—construction takes so long that nothing ever seems new. It is a very precarious feeling.

I made it through immigration and customs without any problem and was then meet by Nii, who was the tour guide on my last trip in April, and he is serving as my guide/fixer helping me move around Accra and then taking me by bus up to Tamale. He brought along a friend with a car so we did not have to bottom out a taxi with all my stuff. After dropping my stuff off at Nii’s house we drove back into the city to change some money and to purchase a cell phone. Cell phones are huge over here, if you don’t have one, or two, you are a nobody.  After that we returned home by TroTro.

TroTros are old vans that have been turned into large taxis that take riders to the different districts of the city. They are often old, badly damaged, polluting, and decorated with nonsensical bible verses or references. My first TroTro ride was in an old Toyota van with major front end damage and the saying “Observers Be Worried” lettered on the back window. There are usually 10-15 people in a TroTro and they all sit ramrod straight and do not talk. The combination of hard benches, silence, and near death experiences gives the inside of TroTros a very sobering feel, almost like attending a church right before your own funeral.

The house that I am staying in while in Accra is also a Spot, the local term for a bar, called Prince Corner Spot. I spent the afternoon sitting outside it and listening to two old women gossiping over a beer. The house is also located close to a school so I was witness to a parade of school children in checkered blue and white uniforms after school was let out. I was just as much as an attraction to them as they rounded the corner.

This morning I also experienced something I was not expecting to while here; being cold. This morning I took a very chilly shower. Outside under an overcast sky threatening rain in a stiff ocean breeze I dumped a bucket of cold water over me. Certainly a rough wake up for my body when it thought it was 4am.

Today, my second in Accra, I ran some errands with Nii that took us into the central market, this is a labyrinth of over crowded streets where you can see a store dedicated to the sale of doorknobs, a group of Rastafarians buying a truckload of plumbing supplies, and a young pregnant girl carrying 15 gallons of paint on her head. Nii was trying to collect money that was owed him, and like any errand to collect money that is not yours this one seemed overly complicated and slightly shady, so I spent my time watching the paint store. People would come in and by paint and then several girls would load the paint up on their heads, either in 5 gallon buckets or shrink-wrapped packs of 5, 1 gallon pails and disappear into the market. This girls are mostly from the north and live a very hard life in the city as the work to send money back home.

After Nii failed to get his money we went and ate lunch at a friend’s sewing shop. This was also connected to a small bar where boxing fans were watching De La Hoya win a world championship match. A young boy, who looked like a future world champion was sent out to get lunch. He left upset and practicing his punches, probably punching an invisible white guy who made him miss the match.  He returned with 3 parcels wrapped first in a plastic bag, then in newspaper, and finally in banana leaves. Inside were a lump of spicy rice, and a large chunk of fish; bones, skin and all. I hate fish but since arriving I have ate exclusively fish and rice. The fish is smoked whole and ate off the bone, and is actually not that bad.

I will try to update you again before I head north. We will be taking the bus next Monday and this week I might take a trip to the hilly eastern region of the country, Nii also has a friend who is getting married this weekend and I have been invited to join.

Sorry I haven’t taken any pictures yet.

October 24th, 2010

Alright, tomorrow morning I am flying out of MSP at 10:30 and I will then have a brief layover in New York before departing on a direct flight to Accra, Ghana which will arrive at 7:30am(local time--Ghana is in the same time zone as London) monday october 25th.

I am all packed and am currently sitting at more than 150lbs in 3 checked bags plus two carry on bags. All of this is currently costing me an extra $350. My plan is to arrive early at the airport and hope I get a nice check in lady who doesn't charge me anything and maybe lets me add more stuff--I still have about 50lbs of supplies waiting to be packed. So, I will be doing some last minute repacking in the airport.

All of this leads me to the thank yous. First off I need to thank Professor Heckel from American University who helped me get this project of the ground and has helped with all aspects of the trip. Justin Sheldon at Bike World who was a endless source of references and help. Steve Lambert who helped me hone my mechanics skills and was a bottemless source of donations due to his love of pies. Adam Argetsinger at Shimano. Chris Brown from First Medical Inc. Diane Petterson at Mercy North in Ankeny. Bill Armas of Park Tool. Sam Offenberg at Adventure Medical Kits. Kyle at Kyle's Bikes. Gordon at Bike Country. All of these people donated supplies to the trip. I also need to thank everyone that donated money and set out their empties. My cousin Elliot Forst who raised $200 by asking for donations at his birthday party instead of gifts for himself--he is great! Also I need to give a big thanks to my parents--a thank you that cannot be expressed here.

So, I will give an update as soon as I can. I will be spending a few days in Accra before heading North by bus to the city of Tamale and then out to the villages I will be working in.


Thank you for all of your support.

Traveling Companion

This is something I wrote following my trip to Ghana last April, it is focused around a friend I had on the trip but maybe this blog will serve in place of a real traveling companion.  

Every traveler needs a companion. Maybe not on all trips but if it is a real trip, a journey both in place and mind, then a traveling companion is needed. Despite what happens before or after the trip this person leaves their own impact on both the traveler and the trip. They know what you are thinking and you know what they are thinking, and if you don’t know one can learn if from a look, a smile or a furrowed brow. While two little friends sitting underneath the tree or two fiends sharing what they have can connect you to a country it is often harder to connect yourself to your own thoughts. It is the traveling companion’s role to connect you to your experiences—others can bring you closer to what you are seeing but the companion can bring you closer to yourself.

Traveling alone can have its advantages; the solitude and the selfish collection of memories, but it is often better to share them. This was especially true on this trip because it presented so many dramatic experiences that it would have been easy to become overloaded and disconnected. The ability to talk and to share made the experiences more real. If they had all stayed in my head then they could have remained there and become simply memories, things that mean a lot to me and no one else. Now that there is another person attached to them they can remain ever clearer in both of our thoughts. And the secrets of this trip are shared by two and not one; extending the possibility of them impacting even more lives if and when they are reveled.  
So please leave comments and ask questions and I will try my best to respond to them. This is a blog to share information and knowledge with you.

The Way of the World

One week from now I will be on my way to Ghana. The time since my first trip has flown by; it is hard to believe that it has been six months. Those six months have not been easy but they seem small in comparison to the first 22 years of my life. This trip is beginning to feel like the culmination of all 22 years of work—it feels as if this moment has been a long time coming. Commitments and self doubt have delayed the start to this journey.

Four years ago during my senior year of high school I had a decision to make—go to college or simply start travelling around the world and see what becomes of my life. Ultimately I decided to go to school with the promise to myself that after I graduated I would start travelling but with a better understanding of the world and the ability to help the people I would meet. Instead of turning my back on my responsibilities to the world I decided to get an education and then use that education to help others. I had imagined that I would travel around the world and experience cultures, working when I needed to and moving on when I wanted to—a trip in the fashion of Nicolas Bouvier and his “slow travel.” But I realized that this 

would be a waste of both my time and the time of others. I saw that I needed to take the opportunities given to me, being born in America and the chance to get an outstanding education, and then use it to give others every opportunity available to them. This is what I am setting out to do.

Now, a week before my departure I feel that this trip will be much more rewarding, I have a direction and the knowledge to keep me focused, had I left four years ago I know I would have in the least given up or possibly even done damage to myself or others along the way. And as I pack my bags, both physical and mental, I know that I have the tools and supplies to make this trip a success.

Gnome
(1934)
Spend the years of learning squandering
courage for the years of wandering
through a world politely turning
from the loutishness of learning. --Samuel Beckett

Distractions 2

Honey

The tourist stood in the courtyard of her hotel and curiously watched the small gathering that was taking place at the gate. The hotel workers had gathered around the gate and were buying something from a man that had arrived on a bicycle. She approached the group and saw that the man was selling something out of an old cooking oil container. She asked one of the waiters what he was selling and he responded; “Wild honey.”

The man selling the honey was known as Honey and to the hotel staff there was little to separate him from the street, the dust or the other peddlers that came to the gate. Daniel was an older gentleman but it would have been impossible to know his real age; for he did not know it himself. There was little that Daniel did know; he had lived a simple life. He took note of important events in his world but then let them blow away and settle someplace else; he was alive for independence but he did not notice much change afterward. His life revolved around the selling of honey and it always had.

When he was a small boy Daniel’s village was far away from the big city and was surrounded by large forests; now the city was much closer and the trees much farther away. In the forest were bee hives and the very young Daniel soon discovered that he loved the honey that was hidden away inside and his mother and friends could always find him by the hives and he always had a pot of honey with him—that is how he became to be known as Honey.

Throughout his life he was always known as Honey and throughout his life he visited the bee hives and collected the honey, eating it and selling it when he needed the money.

Now with his wife dead and his children moved away Daniel once again dedicates his life to the bee hives. With the forest disappearing he has to ride his bicycle farther and farther into the bush but he still collects the honey with the skill and delicate touch he had as a young man. He then travels into the city to sell his honey door to door—pouring it from his cooking oil container into an old 7Up bottle to measure it out and then into empty water bottles.

It had been a good day for Daniel. The day had started early when he rode to bee hive and collected the honey by starting a small and smoky fire under the hive. He then rode into the city and sold his honey. This hotel was on the way out of town and was his final stop and the workers nearly bought him out, leaving him just enough to satisfy his own needs.

He then saw the tourist who by this time had moved into the group and was asking about the honey. Daniel 

decided to offer her a taste. He motioned for her to hold out her hand and he poured a puddle of honey onto the back of her hand and instructed her to lick it off. As she did so he could tell that she too had fallen in love with the honey. He then went through the ritual of pouring the honey from one container into another until it ended up in her hands.

Daniel peddled back through the city’s dusty streets to his home and the tourist continued with her day but the remainder of the trip was sweetened with Honey even after her bottle ran out.

The Community

When I tell people about my trip they are often curious about how I am getting there or who I will be working with and my explanation is often not what they expect.  The vast majority assume that it is a missionary trip and that I am going with a church, some ask about the Peace Corps and a few ask if I am with a specific international organization. When I tell people that I am not doing any of these I am often meet with puzzled looks; for on this trip I am simply going over and helping a community that I made contact with on my first trip and helping them with what they need help with. 

The community that I will be working with has set up a cultural tourism organization to raise money for community projects; last year they built a new elementary school. My class and other tourists pay the community and in turn receive a tour, learn how to make the local pottery, and witness and partake in traditional dancing—you also witness and are told about the community’s struggles such as their lack of clean water.

 

The most remarkable thing about this was that even though the traditional dancing was taking place because we had paid for it it did not feel like that, rather it felt completely natural—like the community was just getting together and that we were unnecessary observers. And while this day provided several powerful examples of the cruelty of life in this area of the world the defining experience that I took away from the tour was hope; this was a community that was working hard to provide a better future for its children through development but it was still able to hold on to its roots—there were both young and old members of the dancing team. 

 

This also highlights an important idea within the development community: for development to be sustainable or long lasting it needs to have community ownership, which is the community that is receiving the aid needs to feel some ownership in the project. In this case the community has undertaken the whole project on their own. This will result in true progress because this community is not simply being given a well or a school it is working to raise the money and then building it themselves—they understand how it came to be and also have an intricate understanding of how it works.

While I want to make an impact on this community it is my wish that when I leave my absence will not have a profound effect on the community. Everything that I do will be done to ensure its continuance after I leave. That way real progress will be made, the community will be better off than before and hopefully there will be little chance of back sliding.