Do Not Stop Making Ice Cream

There was this woman I would go to. She made ice cream. In Ghana! In Jirapa! It’s safe to say I loved her for this. Ghana ice cream by the way melts really fast. A side note, I’m also involved in helping a People Living With HIV group. I’ve missed the last couple months meetings due to Peace Corps conferences and Girls Camp etc etc…anyway so I finally came to a meeting and she was there. My ice cream lady! She had just joined a few months before when she found out she was HIV positive. She was weaker and a little sadder since the last time I saw her. I could see this imaginary horrible, heavy, weight on her that I couldn’t begin to imagine. She has 4 kids and works hard to put them through school. So I stopped by her store again today and she didn’t have any ice cream. A sad day in my world. She is my moment of fake Dairy Queen happiness in Africa. She said since she was sick she didn’t have the energy to make the ice cream anymore.

Later that evening she stopped by my house. To make her feel less bad about not having ice cream I told her it’s good that she relaxes and rests to feel better. Then she told me it’s not because she feels too sick to make the ice cream but it’s a fear she has. This woman is a business woman and very proactive. But now she won’t make the soy milk or soap she used to make. She won’t make anything. She won’t even cook for her family anymore. I asked her why, only to hear the answer I didn’t want to hear. She said she didn’t want to take the risk. What if she cut herself? What if one of her children got it? My heart sank slowly to my stomach.

There are a lot of myths about HIV. For instance some people in America thought I would get HIV from simply coming to Africa. So you can imagine what the people in Africa (coming from no educational background) think about HIV. A women’s group I did an HIV/AIDS lesson with thought a lot of interesting things about it (Note the picture). They thought it was air born, spread through urine, and that there is a cure in America (America is perfect in the eyes of most Ghanaians; fascinating and disturbing fact). Experiencing all this has made me realize how difficult it is to teach people about something they fear, they can’t see, or really understand. With no scientific or health background HIV is not that tiny retrovirus programmed to make thousands of copies of itself by high jacking your cells machinery to do it. No, it is scary and probably there because you did something wrong. I would like to remind the doctors and nurses that work with these patients that treating a patient is not just treating a disease. There is more you have to do to help someone then cut them open or give them drugs. You have to tell them, to make ice cream, damn it.

No matter what I said, she felt scared of herself. I told her that I know that she is always careful and she never spilled blood in the ice cream before so why worry now? Plus, I’m convinced it’s impossible to even cut a Ghanaian woman’s hands, they’re so rough and thick from all the hard work, farming, and grabbing of really hot items . Note: There are no pot holders in Ghana. Or need for them. Even if blood was in the ice cream the virus wouldn’t survive to infect someone else. Anti-Retro-viral therapy, CD4 counts, neutralizing antibodies, tcells, bcells, viral load…blah blah blah she still has HIV and her entire family is afraid they’re going to get it from her. And worst of all, she is afraid that she will give it to them. My friend Emmanuel (the regional representative of People Living with HIV) called this self-stigma. He said that sometimes it is worse than being stigmatized by other people. We really can be our own worst enemies.

I don’t know how she got HIV. Most of the women get it from their husbands who are sleeping around or are allowed to take multiple wives. At least her family hasn’t kicked her out. Some people I’ve met have been left to die by their families. Why keep someone alive who is just going to die sooner and may infect others? That’s the logic. But, if that’s the case, everyone in Ghana who takes public transportation has a higher chance of dying than if they have HIV so we should all just stop eating and wasting food. Save time and resources for all those safe people that don’t leave their homes.

If I can give her and all the people like her one message before I go this is it. I know I can’t speak from experience but, don’t be afraid. We all have something. We all have secrets. And we are far from perfect but you have to keep doing the things you do. Your life has not stopped or ended. It has simply taken a new path. Go with it. But, most importantly, don’t stop making ice cream. Never stop making ice cream.

One more thing! I COS (Close of Service) on August 5th and will be taking off on a Europe adventure with the amazing Casimir. Here we are at Paragliding (picture below) which took place during Easter. The football(soccer) field in the background is where we landed. Its crazy to think I only have a few months left....so much to do...but I'm ready and excited for the next step in my life.

Back to Local

I rode my bicycle up to the Jirapa District Assembly at 10am on a Tuesday. Its a simple and usually quiet 3 story building but today its flowing with life like a busy anthill. Its the day of the 2011 "Inauguration of the Jirapa District Assembly". A building full of elected officials representing, "the people". The ants are interesting. They wear bright patterned clothing, stopping to greet each and every ant in their path. A formal obligation ingrained in them since birth. I join the ants in their customs and eventually enter the conference hall. Squeaky ceiling fans push hot air around the crowded room and a sea of colorful traditional smocks (Casimir is modeling one in the photo) greets me with Ghanaian formality. I find a seat in the back to observe the "smock fashion show" and try and blend into a room I will unequivocally not blend into in anyway possible. But, still I try. It doesn't work as recognizable faces start sitting beside me making jokes about their luck in seating and comments on how hot it already is. I ignore most of their jokes because I came to the meeting to watch a friend of mine be sworn in as an Assembly Woman representing her community. She's one of the only two Ghanaian women in the large room. Don't worry, I'm not going to talk about gender issues (although its a huge one) but, as I was sitting through the ceremony I continuously tried to get a glimpse out of the window and into the real world below. The place where I really wanted to be at that moment.

I've realized since long ago I am not meant to sit in an office trapped levels above the ground. Not only do I hate the awkward formality of all of it and the dead ends that come from long boring meetings but, the place where ideas originate and plans take action is not in an office building. Its on the ground. Its under mango trees, its in the market, walking to farm, fetching water, sitting in a Ghanaian classroom. Its in action. Its in communication. I've noticed that when you stay so removed from the earth and the people you lose the ability to make informed and experienced decisions on behalf of a society. When a political figure moves from their big isolated homes to a car and then an office building followed by lunch at an expensive restaurant and bar they miss the world. They pass everything by through tinted windows. Yet these are the lives of the "Big Men" that represent the people in Ghana (and probably most places in the world).

The next day, I was actually in the office to work on the computer when I was instantly disturbed (as normal). Two men came from Wa (Our regional capital) and I was pulled out of the office with my friend (the one just elected Assembly Woman) to get lunch and a drink. Normally when "Big men" go out they hide from Jirapa behind bottled drinks and food delivered on trays (I know that sounds normal for America but here its not affordable for most). Don't get me wrong, its nice to be treated every once in awhile. It is a good thing to enjoy your successes and life but this lunch was different, in a better way. As we sat on a bench in the center of the market drinking pito (picture of my friend, Nick, having some pito) and eating the local cakes and meat for anyone to see one of the men noticed how uncomfortable my friend was (this was not her choice setting) and explained something to her. He told her, "The moment you are elected to represent your people you start trying to avoid them. You start to forget who you're working for and what they stand for. Its good to go back to your culture and people. Be local! Remind yourself and everyone you're working for that you're just like them. And you are not above them, better than them, or superior. You know them and that's why you can represent them." The moment he said this I started enjoying this lunch even more. As I've been working in a government office in a developing country for almost two years now, I've noticed the corruption in politics and that he is correct. Once you're elected you're no longer "local".

In the Peace Corps they encourage us to stay out of politics. In fact, its in our handbook, but not only do I represent the United States Government but I am hosted by part of the Ghanaian Government. Hard for me to ignore politics. I don't have an opinion about their parties or who is running but more what they are doing. Or in most cases, not doing. I am here because children are dying from diarrhea that could have been prevented from having a clean water source, because malaria is continuing to cut peoples lives short, and because Ghana requested assistance to educate their people. So no, I don't care about greeting everyone in a fancy office building when the person I really need to greet is carrying her sick child on her back to the hospital. And no, I don't care if the Assembly holds a thousand meetings every year if none of them ever leave the office to talk to their people, to find out if their programs are working or how they can fix them. To be fair, there are some wonderful government employees that work very hard and do care about who they're working for. To be honest however, there are a lot of employees that only do things that benefit themselves which is not the ideal "civil servant". As far as I'm concerned the Peace Corps is about being "local" so to speak. Grassroots. I do not belong in an office. I can't do much in an office except type letters and stare at walls. What I can do outside is so full of possibilities its overwhelming.

A health club I work with at a local Junior High School has done more for their community in a few months than entire departments at "the office" do in 6 months. They educated the younger students on HIV/AIDS with practiced activities and songs. They all came on a Saturday morning to help clean up the hospital. During the clean up they even found and helped to solve a public health risk at the children's ward (picture of some of the kids cleaning). Where is their ceremony? Where is their time and travel payment? Their sitting allowance? If 15 year olds can do all of this without money, cars, computers and offices I start to wonder about all the complaints I hear at the office.

I cannot and do not wish to waste my time stuck in an office. I think I've made that clear by now. I can only speak for myself (after all I do realize its easy not to care what people think when you get to leave after two years/stay out of politics) but I will never stop sitting with the locals. I will never stop listening to their stories. I will never stop and pretend that the only people that exist in this world are like me and those equally employed. People here are always asking me why I'm not in the office all the time? It's simple, my work is with the people. Not the office. The office is there as a means to assist the people, not a prison to house dictators. If you ask anyone what their favorite part about their work is, do they ever say, "I love my office"? I doubt it.

This is a picture of my health club with some GREAT District Assembly employees that supported their clean up activity!

My new perspective in an old place

Originally I thought I would never leave Ghana. I would serve my full 27 months without stepping foot on American soil. Why would I need or want to go back? I had spent 23 years there! Well, exactly. I had spent 23 years there and to be honest I missed America. I missed my family and friends. I missed the food, I missed playing the piano, and I missed my culture. I'd like to think I'm so integrated in Jirapa that leaving would devastate me but when it came down to it, I needed a break. Ghana means something important to me but Montana will always be my home and I needed to go home.

Now, I still have 8 more months of the Peace Corps and a lot to do so I didn't come home for a few weeks to forget. What I have done, everyone I met and everything I learned in Ghana is only making my vacation back home all the more interesting. In fact I've realized I've forgotten quite a few things about America. Observations:

1. I can use my left hand. I have gotten so good at always using my right to not offend Ghanaians I actually feel some guilt when I use my left hand.
2. I can pay with large bills and people will have change. I was so used to getting all my money in 1 or 2 bills I almost asked for 1 dollar bills at the bank until my mother reminded me it would be better to get larger denominations. Nobody can break a 20 at market but in a grocery store, no problem.
3. Fast food is really disgusting but amazing. I think I forgot the disgusting part but after a fake cheesy something with ham and triple fried curly fries at the airport my stomach wasn't exactly agreeing with my taste buds.
4. Nobody is hissing or yelling at me. To go in a store or shop and not have the owner try and persuade me to buy everything is strange but nice.
5. No offense to anyone but there are a lot of fat children in America. And you really notice it after being surrounded by skinny or really fit Ghanaian children all the time.
6. I have a seat belt.
7. No one says, "small, small", "sorryo", "I'm coming"(when they're leaving), "Aba"(my favorite saying in Dagaare) and "Paa".
8. I love milk. I really forgot how much I love dairy.
9. I can drink the tap water. :o)
10. American's are really nice. Everybody is always talking about how welcoming and friendly the people in Ghana are well, if it weren't for a friendly and nice American I would have missed one of my flights because I was so tired and fell asleep outside the gate. In my opinion we are just as courteous. At least in Montana.

I also notice a lot of things we take for granted. When people complain to me about their pipes freezing and not having water, or when I hear about spoiled children complaining about toys I cringe just a little. I'm not saying people can't complain and a lot of Americans I know work very hard for what they have but trust me, things could be worse. Cliche but, be happy with what you have, count your blessings, etc...don't make me say more.

America is not a completely evil self-centered place and its not perfect but it is my home and it has provided me with opportunities I am very grateful for. Opportunities many children in Ghana will never have. I can't even begin to address the differences and similarities between Ghana and America but I do know that people are people and that is what makes both of my two worlds go around.

I will head back to Ghana in a few weeks hopefully a few pounds heavier and a little refreshed. After my successful but stressful donation of 200 bicycles with 10 workshops, health club/school activities, and domestic disputes in Jirapa I feel I will be ready to go back to face all of these things with a new perspective. And the rest of my service will focus on my relationships. Although Washington DC likes numbers and results they don't make me smile quite the way a friend does. And thanks to Ghana my measure of success is qualitative not quantitative.


Happy New Year!!!!

I'll have to pencil that in...

So a common theme of my life here in Ghana is never knowing what will happen. Being asked to tell someone my average day here is incredibly difficult. For a lot of volunteers its the same in and out but for myself and Jirapa it is a different world. I can pretty much guarantee I'll wake up, let my adorable, rotten goat head eating, tick covered dog outside and drink a cup of French pressed coffee thanks to the amazing Adam Martyn (enjoy that compliment Adam). But after 8:00am I never really know what will happen. Sometimes that small morning routine doesn't even happen due to knocking on my door at 6:00am for this reason or that.

Anyway, the other day I thought I would go to the office, meet with the Gender Desk Officer and plan out some of our upcoming bicycle workshops for women. I get to the office and she has to leave in an incredible hurry (Vivien is impossible to pin down and is literally representing thousands of women in the Upper West) but we need to meet with this women's group in a small village, Tuggo, right outside Jirapa so it is up to me! I will take my bicycle and ride in the equatorial sun to someplace I have never been...OK, why not, right? The ride was nice minus one large hill and a bicycle with gears that don't work but the woman is waiting for me with pito in hand. Always a welcome surprise! Isabella is a truly sacrificial and selfless person. She is one of the few women in her village that can read and write and speaks English and even though she is retired she works tirelessly for these women. She stopped farming just to come and meet with me. We meet and discuss how annoying it is that all these people want bicycles that don't need them and how the husbands will probably take the bicycles from the women after the workshop but she is hopeful and so therefore, so am I.

After organizing details we decide to bike to the next town over, Babali. By this time it’s getting hot so I'm not excited about biking back to Jirapa so I'm invited to rice and stew with Isabella and some of her grandchildren. Plain rice is good when you've been riding your bike and only have caffeine running through your body so I was thrilled. We greet everyone in town and then I decide, I've come this far I should continue my bike journey to Lawra to visit Adam. I did this for two reasons. One, Adam is leaving soon so I won't be able to do this anymore or see him and two; he's a really good cook so chances are I'll get some good food. It's amazing what I'll do for food now. So I continue at about 1:00pm on to Lawra. As I'm pedaling and enjoying the scenery I realize I didn't put sunscreen on my legs (I'm wearing shorts for the bike ride) and it is BURNING out. I can feel my skin screaming. No Ghanaian has sunscreen and I'm in the middle of nowhere by some stream. So, being very resourceful, clever and dehydrated, I decided to make some mud and spread it all over my leg that’s getting slowly 3rd degree burned. These small village children were fascinated by the crazy white lady rubbing mud on her legs and I don't blame them, even I thought it was weird but I made it to Lawra with minimal sun damage!

When I arrived in Lawra I had somewhat of an international evening. I sat and had a drink with Adam (another PCV), an Italian student, a Canadian Volunteer, and a Cuban doctor. I got a lot of different cultural perspectives on a culture we are all experiencing and studying which was a refreshing change of pace. However, explaining why there was mud all over my legs was difficult but we had a good time. I rode back to Jirapa the next morning and carved a pumpkin with some neighbor kids (one woman told me I was wasting a pumpkin but I grew it so I can do what I want with it) and I cannot be happier with the randomness of my life. I am learning to not have control over everything and that being flexible can sometimes lead to the best of moments and days. I hope to have a little bit more of a predictable life for all of my current bicycle workshops but in Ghana living is about the moment and success is based on the process not the end result. Weird concept for us westerners but I'm getting it. It’s the only way to stay sane and the only way to get anything done. So who knows, we'll see what happens tomorrow.

Jirapa’s 5KRace, Kirsten’s Visit, Girls Camp, Oh my God I need to sleep and wash my clothes…

Sorry its been so long since I’ve wrote. I think I’m mostly apologizing to my mother who has been on me about writing another blog so Mom this ones for you! The last few months have been busy but very very fun and I think I may spend this next week sleeping and eating fufu (I finally just got my very own fufu mortar and pestle!). Let me just re-cap past events in my life because I think its been too long to go into too much detail.

Jirapa’s 5K Combating HIV/AIDS and TB Race

Although this was one of the most stressful things I have ever done in my entire life it is also something I am very proud of. Organizing a race for 100 people with an educational event on HIV/AIDS and TB proved exhausting. Everything is done last minute and the budget kept changing so it made my life difficult. I often go running with Jirapa’s Keep Fit Club and they’re always trying to think of ways to give back to the community, sponsor programs, and increase their membership so we decided on the race. Although a smaller event we had GREAT attendance (There are pictures on Facebook)! And about 10 Peace Corps volunteers came to help me which saved my life. Having other volunteers support you and their ability to help turn any project into something fun and successful is amazing! Kudos to everyone that helped to make it happen! I don’t know if we’ll do another race but maybe a football match…The Keep Fit Club has told me it so far has been their most successful event and they are very proud so I am very proud of them :o) Maybe the next one they won’t even need my help!

Kirsten came to visit:

One of my favorite people in the entire world came to visit me for 2 weeks. And it was a magical two weeks! We did so much it will be hard to recall. We saw the new volunteers swear in! We salsa danced and just plain danced A LOT! We went to the monastery in Techiman and then got to feed monkeys at a monkey sanctuary! We came to Jirapa and drank the finest pito in all the land. We spent some lovely hours in tros. We went to the beach and played in the ocean. We went to the rainforest and went on a canopy walk. We ate fufu, got attacked by insects, played with small children, turned down marriage proposals, and she met a ton of my new friends and Peace Corps family. Kirsten rocks and I am SOOOOOO HAPPY she came!

Girls Leadership Camp:

Speaking of working with other volunteers Nicole just organized an all girls leadership camp which we held at one of my favorite places-the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary. I brought 7 girls from Jirapa who were selected based on an essay contest. Overall we had 38 girls and 6 volunteers. The girls met girls from other cities in the Upper West, they had senior high school students as senior counselors and a variety of activities. I had a member of my People Living with HIV group come to talk to the girls about HIV and why its important to know your status and get tested. She was wonderful and her talk was real but optimistic. She got HIV through a blood transfusion when she was a child and is one of the happiest people I have ever met. She never stops smiling. Makes me feel bad for being upset about things like waiting for rides or rain... She spent half the week with the girls and I was so impressed with their ability to look past someone having HIV and I even saw one of my girls sitting with her arm around her. They have never met anyone living with HIV and I was worried about stigma but the girls were respectful and understanding. I was very happy it went so well. We had dancing, we played games and told stories, went on nature walks and looked for Hippos. I am so so so proud of my girls! They participated, met other campers, and were very respectful. Brings me back to camp when I was in middle school. I am just thrilled that we were able to give these girls this opportunity. They don't get a chance to just be kids very often always cooking, cleaning, studying, doing wash, helping their families raise the other kids...this week they got to scream and sing and just play. Props to Nicole for making it happen. One of the best times I've had in Ghana.

What is next:

So currently I am back in Jirapa for awhile, working on my garden and the pumpkins that have taken it over. I want to get my football team running (literally), finish District Assembly reports I’m like 4 months behind, and drink some good pito with my friends in Jirapa! I have my mid service medical at the end of this month and I am running the ½ marathon in Accra on the 26^th so wish me good training for this last month! I hope everything and everyone is well back in the states! Eat lots of ice cream for me!!! Bye bye til next time!

My Small Vacation: All-Vol, Togo, Deng Festival

So recently in my life I did some traveling "small small" as we would say in Ghana. So I'd like to share. Since about Thanksgiving my friend Derek and I have been talking about going to Togo and finally, Derek being assertive and probably annoyed of our hypothetical plans said, "Pick a date and lets go. Lets stop talking about it and just go!" So that is just what we did. We took offical vacation and planned to go to Togo. We would go to Togo right after our All Volunteers conference in the Volta Region.

First of all All Vol was great. Literally ALL of the Peace Corps Volunteers in Ghana got together in a city called Ho (at a hotel with yeah, a POOL!) to share projects, ideas, learn more about HIV/AIDS and to well...socalize. Because lets face it we all become a little isolated and lonley so its nice to relate to your fellow volunteers. But, it was sort of overwhelming being around so many white people. So, I could talk about the long workshops during the days and all the magical things we learned but I'd rather mention the night time activties planned by volunteers.


We had a Texas Hold Em night. Thanks to my InCyte crew back in Spokane and playing poker everyday I feel my poker skills are average to intermediate but sadly I lost Derek's 5 Ghana Cedis that he was so nice to lend to me. Sorry Derek!

There was also a Peace Corps Prom. Which was probably the best prom I've ever been to. Fantastic! Minus the fact that being next to a pool gets you thrown in no matter what you're wearing. Derek was my prom date. He may be one of the best dancers in Peace Corps (photo as evidence). We danced til...we were pushed in the pool.

We also had a Peace Corps Talent Show because we are all such talented individuals. Singing, dancing, acting, more singing, and even some synchronized swimming! And then naturally everyone was thrown in the pool. We're not used to pools so it was exciting to say the least.

After the craziness of All Vol Derek and I added a member to our Togo trip, Lawyer Liz (a very important member) and we headed to the land of "Travail, Liberte, Partrie"! So with my sort of French skills, Derek's Ewe (the local language in his region and in Southern Togo), and Liz's math skills and ability to keep track of all our money we made a good trio.



So we had 6 goals when we went to Togo:
1. Wine
2. Baguettes
3. Cheese
4. Cascade
5. Coffee
6. Croissants


This was not a pleasure seeking trip at all, no. In our defense we eat large quantities of startch and drink box wine in Ghana so it was time for some luxe (That's French for luxury)! Well I am proud to say we completed ALL of our goals, going a little crazy on numbers 1 and 2. This was actually the only plan we had for Togo which ended up being a great plan. Because we always won. I think this pizzeria we went to left us not knowing how to act. We're used to eating fufu with our hands out of a communal bowl and now we had to taste wine (honestly we had a hard time not chugging it) and eat hour d'oeuvres. Colonisation faults aside the French brought some beautiful things to Togo. Observe the cheese here----->

We decided our second day in Togo to go to Kpalime which is about an hour North of Lome to see some waterfalls another volunteer told me about. Using my incredible French I got us directions to the station and somehow we got to Kpalime in a tro with a small girl screaming the entire hour. I didn't know someone could scream without even taking a breath but I think we loved Kpalime just because we got away from the screaming child. The path to the waterfalls was incredible through winding roads up mountains and after a short hike we swam in some of the most refreshing water.

After an incredible time at the waterfalls we got back to the hotel and realized...we don't have our key...mother*#$! You would think, "Oh, it happens no big deal" but when the owner of your hotel is a stereotypical old French man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and you're young Americans who he hasn't been that fond of anyway AND you're the only one in your group that knows any French you have to get yelled at in French by the angry French man. Brought me back to high school French class. "Monsieur, Nous avons une probleme. Nous pardons le cle..." Then "YELLING IN FRENCH!!!" Then he changed the lock and yelled, "VOILA!" So the next night in Togo we went to a nice place on the beach away from all angry French people.

The last part of my small travels involved my return up to Jirapa. I decided to stop at Mat's site, Bole, along with 3 environment volunteers (Casimir, Sam, and Megan-all good company) and check out an annual festival called the Deng Festival in a nearby village Sonya. Going to Mat's site is great because well, he likes to cook. So we had steak sandwiches. I think I like food too much. This village is amazing for a few reasons. All of the houses are connected through their rooftops. So a walking tour on top of everyones homes was something new. Lack of privacy maybe but a really cool communal way of living.


Most of the festival involved dancing, pito, and asking the gods for things for the future by sacrificing a chicken. They slit the chicken's neck and depending on how the dead chicken falls determines your prophecy. Head up, to the side, face down (that one is not good). Mat and Casimir almost bought a chicken to sacrifice but we're poor and getting your future predicted by a dead chicken is kinda pricey. Dancing continued ALL night followed by a rabbit hunt in the morning.

So after the festival I finally made it back to Jirapa and work took over. But the break was so nice and much needed. Nothing like some French influence and time with brilliant, fun, wonderful people to prepare me for setting up a 5k race for 100 people....
To be continued...