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.