All right - so not THAT soon...

I realized a couple of weeks ago that I miss Ghana. Even as I realized that, I reflected upon it (because as both a teacher and a Fulbrighter, what else have I learned to do but reflect?!). I realized that I missed certain aspects of my time in Ghana. I missed walking from 37 to the Embassy. I missed people finding it amusing that I would walk from 37 to the Accra Mall, or maybe they just thought it was amusing that an obuni would do this, especially since trotros are plentiful and cheap. I miss stopping in at Woodin and seeing what was new in the way of cloth prints. I msis the bats flying from 37 over my house on campus every evening - every time I see a flock of birds here winging around, I check to see if they are really birds or if they are bats as I secretly hope them to be (I have been disappointed every time). I don't miss the bugs, but have not unconditioned myself to check out every small dark spot I catch out of the corner of my eye, particularly in my kitchen - it is almost always the screw holding the plastic backsplash behind my stove. I also don't miss public urination - one of my first days back, I saw two people standing on a street corner with their backs facing traffic. My first thought was "how dare they!" then I realized that they were not relieving themselves in public, but were in fact just standing there. Much to my relief.

I realized today something else I don't miss: laundry. Please do not think that I had not realized the luxury of washing machines upon my return - I fully appreciate this wonder of not-so-modern-technology (invented by a woman). However, today my power went out for a little while due to the amazing winter storm we are having in the DC area right now (I will have been off school for almost 2 weeks by the time we go back on President's Day. I have to think that Mother Nature is fulfilling my wish for a real winter following the world's longest August.) Anyway, my power went out, and I had laundry in the machines - sheets in the drier and towels in the washer. The one day I decide to do wash and the power goes out - no one ever said I had great timing. So, I cannot let the towels sit in the washing machine, that's tempting fate, and mildew. So I hung the sheets up in my apartment and proceeded to wring the towels dry. The water was HOT, the towels are thick, and I scalded and blistered my out-of-laundry-wringing-shape hands. To have the power come back on 45 minutes later. Not wanting to tempt fate again by re-submerging the towels into the washer, I just let the cycle go and will wash them again another day.

My partner in Fulbright, Leslie, is planning on going back to Ghana for a visit over the summer and I long to join her. I also am looking to teach overseas somewhere else. I survived and thrived (mostly) during my time in Ghana and I yearn for the new and challenging, although I will miss the seasons and the snow. Maybe this storm is Mother Nature's way of saying that weather I love will be here when I return.

Coming Soon!

I will be leaving Ghana this Sunday. I had planned to publish a final post before leaving, but have decided to do so after being back in the US for a couple of weeks - I want time to digest my entire experience more. In the meantime, stay tuned! I will post photos from my trips to Morocco and the safari in Tanzania. Thanks to everyone who kept up with my journeys, professional and personal, during this past year.

Trip to the North part 2

Village school in Saakpuli where we saw evidence of the slave trade that existed here. Slaves were chained to the roots of a tree similar to this one, and several miles away were wells that were owned by different slave traders to provide water for their "property."



















My Dad in the Hyena Cave at Tongo Hills near Tamale. This area has large tumbled rock formations. This particular cave is used during festivals for the elders to meet and discuss pressing issues.














Traditional northern style home in Paga Pio's Palace, near border with Burkina Faso. Note the low doorway, you have to duck down and then step over a short wall to enter, this gives inhabitants the opportunity to knock intruders on the head as they try to enter. There are no windows, except several holes in the roof to allow light in and smoke from fires out. These holes are covered with pottery or calabash bowls to keep out rain.














Also in Paga, at one of the sacred crocodile ponds. This crocodile is being rewarded for sitting still while we pet him. I believe the fowl was dead when it was tossed to the crocodile since it did not wriggle even when it landed next to his head. The crocodiles, we are told, visit people in their homes at night but are not dangerous, lay their eggs in people's homes (the residents return them to the lake), and number quite a lot within a small pond (our guide said in the hundreds).















To get to Mole National Park it takes several hours to traverse the 86 kilometers of rough road. But the ride is worth it in the end.

Baboons in the village of Mole. I saw one steal food out of the hand of an unaccompanied toddler in the village, and they would take food left unattended on tables at the restaurant at the motel.

Elephant in the Mole village.

Same elephant having breakfast in village.

The guided walks take you down into a valley where there are two watering holes that can be seen from the motel. We encountered these elephants taking a cooling dip in one of the watering holes on a morning walk.

We also saw numerous antelope (bushbuck, waterbuck, and kob) as well as numerous warthogs (truly one of the ugliest creatures on the face of the planet).

Obama-mania!

Leslie and I bought these in Kumasi several weeks ago.















An article talking about all the Obama themed items that were being purchased/sold in Accra in advance of the visit.



















Signs are everywhere. Here are three.

The Fulbrighters, and everyone else associated with the Embassy here, were given VIP tickets for a closer standing-room only section at the airport farewell of Air Force One. President Obama was here fewer than 24 hours, arriving Friday evening. He visited Ghanaian President John Evans Atta Mills at the Castle in Osu for a meeting then a breakfast, he addressed Parliament and dignitaries at the Conference Center, visited Cape Coast Castle (one of the slave castles along Ghana's coast), and then returned for the airport farewell. This was the only "public event" during his visit, there were approximately 2000 non-VIP tickets for another standing room section also at the airport farewell. The photos below are all from that event.

People in Obama themed clothing:

Co-mingled flags at the airport.

A young boy showing his dual support.

Placing the presidential seal on the podium that President Obama will use.

Presidents Obama and Mills ascending the platform at the airport.

This was as close as I got, no handshake for me!

Michelle Obama working the crowd, too.

no good deed

The main purpose of Fulbright Exchanges is cultural exchange and understanding. This is supposed to be accomplished through a variety of means, including but not limited to teaching. I am supposed to observe other classes at my school and elsewhere as part of this endeavour. My school is supposed to arrange this for me. The first classroom I have visited other than my own was this morning, and was at a local JSS (junior secondary, like a middle school) that is not affiliated with my school at all.

My neighbor, James, is a student there. We had previously talked about my going to visit his Social Studies class to talk about the US, but then his teacher (an intern whose internship was over) left - yes, the school year is not over yet, and yes that means that these students no longer have a Social Studies teacher - so the scheduled visit did not take place. Then his English teacher invited me (through James) to visit their English class as they had read a poem by a Kenyan poet about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I accepted. I spent quite a lot of time re-reading sections of the US history textbook I brought with me, practicing the excerpts from King's I have a dream speech that appear in the book, flagging photos of the Lincoln Memorial in a photo book on DC I brought from home, gathering supplies that I would donate to the teacher to use in her classroom, and finding small prizes to give to students who could answer the questions I planned to pose to the class.

After morning assembly, James took me to his classroom; it was still about 10 minutes before class was due to start. In the absence of his English teacher, I hung up the map of the US (to point out where DC is, where marches and boycotts took place, etc.) and wrote some stuff on the board in preparation for my talk. While I was doing this, James said that the class's Form Master (the teacher who is in charge of that class for things like reporting problems - no working lights, monitoring teacher and student attendance, and the like) wanted to meet me so he could allow me to teach. I thought, "I am not teaching, I am simply a guest speaker," but went to meet him. I explained that I had been invited through James by his English teacher and why, and that I teach at Achimota Secondary School. We shook hands, all seemed well, and I went back and began my talk. I explained who I was and why I was there, and started to give context to the Civil Rights Movement in the US so that the students could have a better understanding of who Dr. King was and what he was fighting against and for.

I was partway into my lesson, giving out a prize to the student who remembered that the case that had established "separate but equal" was Plessy v. Ferguson (I had mentioned it already) when two other teachers showed up outside the door to the classroom. One told me that he is the assistant headmaster of the school (like assistant principal) and told me that I should have spoken to him before teaching the class, he may have said that I needed permission (he certainly implied it). I said that I had been invited by the English teacher, and that I believed she should have taken care of all of that (i.e. even if she failed to do so, it is her responsibility not mine). She had still not shown up, by the way. No one welcomed me to their school, or thanked me for visiting. I gave away all the prizes, but no supplies as the English teacher never arrived. I carted the newsprint and colored pencils and pencil sharpeners back home; they will go with me to Tanzania where I will be visiting two schools during my travels there the end of August.

I am currently sitting in the computer lab that the students here at Achimota use. At the end of last term, March, I gave to the lab mousepads that my home school had provided to my host school. They are nowhere in sight. I asked about them, indicating that I hoped to get a photo of them in use to share with my school back home. One of the ICT teachers said that one student had stolen one and refused to return it, so they were all put away. I have been assured that they will be out this afternoon so that I might snap a picture, but have no idea if they will remain in use or will be stored for "safe keeping" after that. I tried to explain that the purpose of my school donating these items was so they could be used but, like many conversations I have had here, I feel my sentiments were not internalized. I am disappointed, obviously, but am resigned to the fact that there is really only so much I can attempt, and I need to stop beating my head against a brick wall.

P.S. for fun photos from our trip to Kumasi or the Fulbright bowling night, see Leslie's blog at http://www.leslieinghana.blogspot.com/.

Trip to the North part 1

My parents visited in May and here are some photos from our adventures.

Our guide at the Bunso Arboretum demonstrating how strong these roots are. They belong to a plant that is symbiotically living among the branches of the tree whose trunk you can see on the right. It sends down roots to tap groundwater when it gets too large to survive on water captured from the air alone.




















This gentleman has been making beads from bauxite ("a rock consisting of aluminum oxides and hydroxides with various impurities: the principal ore of aluminum" per dictionary.com) most of his life; this is his studio in Abompe. The process is long and arduous.















Mining for gold near Abompe.















My mom learning to stamp adinkra symbols onto kente strips. The adinkra symbols all have meanings and these stamps are carved out of calabash (a large gourd) rind.















My dad with the caretaker of the Besease Shrine (it is an UNESCO World Heritage Site) wearing a skirt used by a fetish priest for ceremonies.




















I am feeding a mona monkey at the Boabeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary.















The young man (on break from school) who showed us around Kintampo Falls. He looked like he was having fun.

My mom pretending to hitchhike after our vehicle broke down on the way to Tamale (pronounced ta-ma-lay).

A woman adding mud to the outside of her hut.

We visited a village near Tamale where we saw shea butter being made, I tried my hand at native pottery (not giving up my day job!), and the villagers drummed and danced for us. The girls dance, I was told, commemorates one performed in celebration of something (sorry, my memory fails me - but it had to do with a kind) and they bumped butts together in celebration. Watch the video!

This man and the little boy are also performing a celebratory dance. Enjoy!

More photos to come in a couple of days.

Molly, Indiana Jones, and me

I am more a fan of the 1st (Raiders of the Lost Ark) and 3rd (The Last Crusade) Indiana Jones movies than the 2nd (Temple of Doom) and 4th (Kingdom of the Crystal Skull). I do not intend to discuss the relative merits of them, just to say that several events that we experienced during the visit of my friend Molly resembled things in Temple of Doom.

First: We went to Kakum Park (see photo of canopy walk/rope bridges under the entry "In country" posted on 9 September) where we both mentioned that we were thinking of the scene in Temple of Doom where Indiana Jones cuts the rope bridge with a sword while Shorty and the whiny female lead are on it.

Then we took a wrong turn on our way back to the Visitor's Center, not so that we got lost, we just took a less used path to get there. On the way, however, we encountered this:


















when I almost stepped on him while wearing sandals. He was up against a sort of step in the path, hence why I did not see it until I was literally almost on top of it. Molly hurdled over him with a running start.

Exciting in a different way was our batik lesson. There is a great organization here called Women in Progress (http://www.womeninprogress.org/) that offers, among other things, cultural workshops; you can learn drumming and dancing, cooking, batiking, or work with local fishermen. They are affiliated with a cooperative/shop known as Global Mama's (http://www.globalmamas.org/). From the Global Mama's shop in Cape Coast, we went to Eli and Emma's batik studio. Molly and I selected stamps made from foam, the two women pictured below helped us with our part of the process which was to dip the stamp into the melted wax and apply it to the fabric.















Once we had done our small part (the stamping), the women dyed the fabric per our request. It was neat to watch the color develop - my cloth started out looking as if it would be a dark purple or black, but as it dripped and started to dry the color changed to a grey and finally to the sunny yellow I wanted.














After the color developed, the cloth was mixed in a pot of boiling water to remove the wax. It is dipped in and out of the pot with a long stick, the melted wax is skimmed off the top, and finally the cloth is removed, wrung out, and hung to dry. It was a really neat experience, and we both got to take a piece of Ghanaian culture with us that we had a hand in creating.

Scenes from Molly's visit: bananas to market in Accra.
















The mango tree outside my house.