Christmas Vacation Part 2 of 4-Elmina & St.George's Castle

**Note: My friend Morgan is an incredible photographer so I'll direct you to his blog to check out the scenes I've described in the blog below. His address is: http://thefatbuddha.blogspot.com/

We had incredible luck getting out of Butrea. Victor had made friends with a taxi driver so we arranged to be picked up early in the morning and dropped off at the tro-tro pick-up heading to Elmina. (I got really used to travelling in tro-tros during the trip-the experience can be compared to travelling in a sardine can without any shocks. Come to think of it, those vans are so beat up they probably aren’t much thicker than a sardine can. Haha)

We arrived in Elmina in time for breakfast and took our Nescafe at a neat restaurant that had a great view of the bustling lagoon with its colourful pirogues, painted red turquoise and yellow, flying sails made of flour sacks sewn together. We all watched the hustle and bustle on the docks with fascination- small girls balanced tin platters on their heads piled with oranges or buckets filled with pure water; women swiftly strode by carrying metal bowls on their heads filled with various kinds of fish and sea creatures, while others had wooden boxes on their heads with glass walls that displayed African pastries or fried dough. Men carried equipment down to the boats and some just moved with the crowd, stopping to buy something from the “petty traders” or to chat with a friend. Overlooking this whole scene from the grassy hill across from us was St.George’s Castle- the oldest European structure in West Africa. The castle was first built by the Portuguese and later overtaken by the Dutch. It was originally a post for gold trading and later became a slave trading post where hundreds of African people were imprisoned before being loaded onto ships headed for the Americas.

After breakfast we went on a tour of St. George’s Castle-a disturbing but educating experience. Our guide shared some of the history of the building with us as he led us into the male and female dungeons, through the main court complete with a church, up into the bedroom and sitting room of the governor, and down to the door of no return- where those imprisoned took their last steps on African soil before being crammed into the slave chambers of the ships awaiting them. It was a sobering experience and as we left the guide made sure to point out the following sign:

"In Ever Lasting Memory

Of the Anguish of our ancestors

May those you died rest in peace

May those who return find their roots

May humanity never again perpetrate

Such injustice against humanity

We, the living, vow to uphold this"

After the castle we headed down to the shores to check out the central market. The scene here was much like that of the docks by the lagoon, only more intense because of the greater area. I enjoyed looking into everyone’s bowls to see all the different fish and sea creatures. The market was crowded and loud with the strong scent of fish amidst the salty sea air. We ducked into a local drinking spot where we were able to watch a bunch of fishermen working amongst a big cluster of pirogues pulled up on the sand. Some were repairing their nets, some were sewing new ones, and some were fixing sails. Children ran all amongst the boats, and we caught a great shot of a small boy soaping up for his morning bath.

We spent the afternoon wondering about the main streets of Elmina and hiking up to a Catholic Church on a big hill where we could see the whole town. The Brandt Book explains Elmina best when it describes the paradox you see in town which has a mood so inherently African, but an urban landscape that has been molded almost entirely by exotic influences. It’s intriguing to see how the old colonial houses and European structures have been adopted and morphed into various living accommodations and businesses within this fishing town.

Late that afternoon we caught another tro-tro and continued on to Cape Coast….TBC

Christmas Vacation Part 1- “The Hideout”, our Rasta Christmas on Butrea Beach

Our Christmas vacation officially started on Friday, Dec.21st. Morgan, Nicole, Trevor and I met at the STC Bus Station in Tamale to begin our journey, first to Kumasi (in the Central Region of Ghana) and then on to our selected Christmas location- Ellis’ Hideout, located on the luscious southern coast. True to Ghanaian standards, the bus arrived two hours late and we were finally on our way at approx. 6:30pm. At around one in the morning we arrived at the Kumasi station and stumbled to a guest lodge just around the corner for a few hours of sleep until our next leg. The alarm at 6am came a little too soon, but we grabbed our backpacks, forewent the shower and were off again, taking the next STC bus to Takoradi. From there we took a tro-tro to a small town nearby and then jumped into a taxi where we headed down a very long, meandering dirt road towards Butrea Beach. With each hill our anticipation rose as we waited to see this place Morgan had booked us at, hoping our trusty Lonely Planet hadn’t failed us. We followed the signs and veered onto something that we could hardly believe was a road, snuggled between thick trees on the left and a sloped plateau on the right. Finally our little oasis was revealed to us and it was perfect-small and low key, hidden amongst the palm trees were a number of clay coloured huts and a small restaurant with a beautiful beach front view. We were in our bathing suits in no time, hot from the long trek and SO excited to see the clear, blue ocean water crashing up against the spotless white sand of Butrea Beach. It was hard to believe we were still in Ghana…this was a far cry from our Tamale that had slowly become more and more parched as the harmattan took it’s hold.

We stayed at The Hideout until December 27th and I must say, it was truly the most unique Christmas I’ve had. Our Christmas Eve dinner was incredible-a large red snapper, cooked fresh over the grill and enjoyed in our thatch roofed gazebo, under a bright, clear sky. After dinner we joined the other guests down on the beach for a big bonfire. A bunch of Rastas from the area had come to hang out and serenade us with traditional West African drums and percussion. They are so talented at creating different beats and bringing all the different instruments together into one medley! I especially appreciated this talent after I tried one of the drums and found that I was terrible-I couldn’t even have a conversation while I had that drum because it seemed to take so much effort trying to keep the rhythm. I tried one of the big wooden xylophones as well (the kind we used to love at school Cars) but this one took a lot of concentration too, and I was soon demoted to a rattle. Haha It was so surreal to be hanging out in bare feet and listen to Rasta tunes against the crashing ocean on a holiday that had in all my experience, meant snow and Christmas carols.

On Christmas morning I ordered banana pancakes (just like the Jack Johnson song ; ) and handed out the Turtles the fam sent me for Christmas (surprisingly they were still intact and I resisted the urge to horde them to myself : ). Morgan had wrapped African necklaces up as a gift so that we could all unwrap something, and then we spent a great day in the sun and sand (with a couple of naps in the hammocks).

Our last day at The Hideout was spent on a local “cruise”- our good friend Tony, donned in a bright orange lifejacket complete with a whistle, took us out in a rugged, traditional canoe onto the lagoon to see the mongrove trees and try to spot some monkeys or a crocodile. Tony had a great sense of humor and when we were about halfway through the tour he yelled out “Hello Monkeys…where are you!”. Unfortunately, they were not tempted by his greeting and we didn’t spot any monkeys, but the mongrove trees were fascinating. Each tree seemed to have several skinny trunks shooting up from its roots and then bowing down upon the lagoon with hundreds of slim branches. They grow so close to one another that it becomes this impossible maze that one would only be able to get through with the aggressive use of a machete.

From Butrea we backtracked East to Elmina and on to Cape Coast….TO BE CONT.

Entrepreneurship Olympics

At 5:45, just after the sun had broke, Ziblim (the T-Poly driver) arrived to “pick me” at Jisonayilli. We headed to T-Poly to pick up three members of the Entrepreneurship Club and load the truck with supplies for the Entrepreneurship Olympics I had organized for the students in Bolgatanga. The night before had been a late one as my best friend here, Kristine, had celebrated her last night in Tamale-she was heading back to Denmark, having completed her internship for her Masters in African Studies. I snoozed for most of the two hour drive, awaking every half hour or so to a cluster of mud huts or a small bustling village full of porters walking through the streets with various items on their heads and livestock shuffling through the traffic.
We made impeccable timing and arrived in Bolga within 2 hours; everything was going so well it was almost scary. We picked up some sacks of water and then made our way to the B-Poly campus, which is about 25 minutes out of town. The 40 students competing in the E-Olympics had been informed that a bus would be waiting for them at the old campus (which has now been turned into a Gov’t office) in town to pick them up and take them out to the new campus where we’d been given a large classroom to set-up our event. When we were about halfway to the new campus I called the professor from B-Poly that I’d been coordinating with to confirm that everything was going according to plans with the bus. As soon as he picked up he said “Shawna, we have a HUGE problem!”. My stomach dropped, I knew it was too good to be true-everything had been going too smoothly. The bus wasn’t working and Dr.Batse suggested that we should turn our truck around and come to the old campus to meet with him and try to sort things out. It turned out that the B-Poly bus we’d rented hadn’t been used in a long time, so no one had discovered that it didn’t have a battery. They had gone to start the bus to go get fuel and realized it wasn’t working. As Dr. Batse described it-we were having “one hell of an African time”, and he made no attempt to water the situation down-“Shawna, this is how it is in Africa. We have 3 students waiting here-the rest are late, waiting somewhere else, or decided to attend the funeral today. The bus hasn’t been used in ages and no one came early to fill it up with fuel.” We definitely had a problem- some students were hanging around the old campus waiting for the bus, others had indicated they would be waiting along the roadside for pick-up, and some had decided to meet the group at the new campus with their own means of transportation. So now it was 20 minutes past the designated departure time and I had students sprawled out from the old campus to the new one, waiting for the bus and waiting for our arrival. There was definitely no way of piling 30 students into the back of our pick-up truck and the window of time to fix this problem before students gave up on us and went home was quickly depleting.

One thing I will definitely say about Ghanaian people is that they are resourceful-they are so adept at using what they have to make things work. As I began to feel the pangs of disappointment that our whole day was down the drain, one of the men working on the bus came up with an extra battery that they had extracted from another vehicle (hopefully with permission, haha) and began to install it into the bus. A few minutes later, after many unsuccessful attempts and a lot of whining from the bus engine, the ignition turned and the bus came to life-raring to go. The students hopped in and we sped off to the new campus to make sure the others waited.

Despite our rocky start, the Entrepreneurship Olympics turned out to be a success. The T-Poly E-Club members that had come to help man the stations and set-up moved quickly with me to get everything organized before the bus made it out. We had 34 students show up out of the 40 that registered-impressive stats given the situation. They had a great time moving through the five activities I had extracted from the DREP curriculum and made into a relay. (This was a great idea Mike had shared with me during his visit to Tamale). The students were really enthusiastic and we saw a real sense of competition between them as they worked their way through the following stations:
1) Characteristics of an Entrepreneur
2) Brain Teasers
3) Idea Generation
4) Tower of Power (my favourite-they are given a stack of various materials like pens, flipchart paper, string, paper clips and masking tape. They have to build the highest freestanding tower they can that will hold an egg for 15 seconds. It’s a team building activity that helps students get “outside the box” of the structured classroom environment they’re used to and puts them in a creative thinking mindset.)
5) Pass the Ball

A representative from the local radio station made a visit to check out the Entrepreneurship Olympics and see what we were up to. When we had tallied up the points and made our way to the front of the classroom to announce the winners, the students were so excited. They whooped and cheered as each team’s final points were read out. Finally, the winning team was declared and there was an explosion of cheering as the team jumped out of their seats and came to collect their prize-the blue and white DREP t-shirts we designed for the event. We handed out all the participation certificates and gathered for a group picture. I had one t-shirt left over and many of the students came up to me to give me their pitch of why they should take it home-“I left my baby to be here today”…"I’m an entrepreneur..I’m taking a leadership role and asking you to give it to me”- each followed by laughter and more teasing.

We packed everything up and were just about to leave the campus when we found out that once again, the bus wouldn’t start. So the 5 of us taking the truck and some nearby students gathered behind the bus and began pushing to give it a kick-start. It sputtered and whined again and then grudgingly started took to our efforts and set off for town again. I took the E-Club members and Dr.Batse out for some jollof rice and fufu and then we were back on the road, heading home to Tamale.

I returned just in time to take a quick shower and join Morgan and Shawn to attend Nancy (our Canadian grandmother ; ) and Frank’s Canadian pre-Christmas party. It was a similar crowd to our other Canadian events, and a nice chance to hear what everyone had planned for the holidays. Some people were making a visit home for Christmas, others were done their work and heading home for good, and the rest of us swapped travel itineraries and shared advice for places to go and places to stay away from. True to the Christmas spirit, we all indulged in one too many appies and far too many Christmas treats before piling merrily into the back of two vehicles that a couple of the long-term expats had come with.

Christmas at Jisonayilli

“Oh the weather outside is frightful…”

True, it’s not the blizzardy, snowy weather this Christmas song leads one to visualize, but the weather that this Christmas season is accompanied by here in Ghana is equally frightful to me. I believe I have already mentioned the harmattan before, but I am now truly experiencing the extent of this evil wind, and a whole new season has replaced the tolerable humidity that marked the tail end of the rainy season. The harmattan is a wind that blows in from the Sahara desert, bringing enough dust with it that the city can sometimes look like everyone decided to burn their garbage on the same day. (Fusi told me that further north, the dust gets so bad that you can’t see the headlights of cars infront of you. I told him I could picture this dilemma..it would be the same as a snow storm at home.) The harmattan wind makes a significant impact on the climate- the evenings and mornings are very cool (for us), dropping to around 8 degrees or so and accompanied by a light mist. Then, after the sun has made its breathtaking appearance on the African horizon and settled in nicely above the tree line, an intense heat quickly replaces the cool morning air. The wind blows in hot and dry, just like a Saskatchewan day in the height of summer. In fact, though the heat here is something I can’t say I’ve ever experienced before (and I’m told we haven’t reached the peak yet), the terrain is looking oddly familiar to a prairie girl. The leaves are becoming dry and yellow, falling from their branches like an elm tree in the autumn. Most of the fields have been harvested and all that remains outside the city limits are dry, yellow remnants of various crops lying in rows of dirt, broken up by some random trees along the way and dry, wild grasses flickering in the wind. The days seem long and hazy, like those last couple of weeks in August where the only thing that moves with any vitality, unhindered by the heat, is the wind. I think my body is a little confused…it feels almost like Saskatchewan on an August day, but it’s the middle of December and Christmas is around the corner. Maybe this is what bears feel like when they accidentally come out of hibernation too early ; ) haha

So amid this strange new season, we hosted our first Christmas party at Jisonayilli this past Saturday. Kristine, my roommate from Denmark, will be travelling home on Friday and her mother has been staying with us for the past week- we wanted to hold an African Christmas party before they left. On Saturday morning Morgan and Tanya hosted a “group meeting” where we indulged on fresh pineapples, watermelon, oranges and imported coffee and set out to delegate everyone’s tasks for the day and create a menu as close to the traditional Christmas dinners each of us knew from home. We agreed that Morgan would use his motorcycle to get the groceries, Victor would get the produce from the market (yes, it was quite a risk we took….we actually sent two men out to do the grocery shopping, haha); Nichole was to pick up the bread for stovetop stuffing, Kristine and her mom went to King David’s Inn to pre-order the guinea fowls that would be substituting the turkey, and I ran home to work on a secret project ; ) ; )

In addition to preparing the dinner, we decided to do a gift exchange game that Victor knew of so each of us had to come up with 2 gifts under 2 cedis. We decided that the small tree growing in the “courtyard” of our house (approximately a 10 foot by 10 foot square of soil with one tree growing in it that the middle of the house has been built around) would serve as a wonderful Charlie Brown Christmas tree- so of course Christmas decorations were also going to be necessary.

This is how it all panned out:

My “secret” was a large gingerbread house, which I had begun in the wee hours that morning. I ran home while everyone was bustling about with errands to get all the walls baked before everyone got home. Then Morgan, Kristine and I set out to make it into an extravagant centre piece/dessert. (That ones for you mom…the cookie traditions you started are imbedded in me : )

As for the Christmas tree decorations, Nichole and Kristine crafted some very impressive, and good-looking angels. They used coloured paper to make into cones for the base of the angel’s body and then used the pink foam that the imported apples come in to make wings. To top them off, Nichole found a large newspaper clipping she had brought from home with the faces of some of Canada’s famous media figures…so Rick Mercer, Peter Mansbridge and friends became the faces of our lovely Christmas ornaments.

Our dinner turned out magnificently- the menu featured guinea fowl, stove top stuffing, Danish stuffing (roasted apples, raisins, onions and nuts in a spicy juice), scalloped potatoes and fresh salad. For dessert we had the gingerbread house, Shawn’s rice pudding and marzipan, nougat, spice cookies and Finnish Fingers (shortbread) brought in straight from Denmark by Kristine’s mom. To wash it all down, Kristine’s mom mixed a warm batch of gloggi (the warm, spiced red wine that I had when I was in Finland!). In the mask of the darkness outside and the glow of the candles inside, one could nearly convince themselves that there actually was snow beyond those dark windows. (It also kind of felt like we were the orphans in Neverland who had finally found a mother, haha).

One of the neatest things about our dinner was sharing it with our Ghanaian friends. Assiah, her brother Tommy, and her friend Martia agreed to come and try all of the food. Before we all began to eat, Nichole had each of us go around and name one thing that we are thankful for (instead of saying grace because we had a number of faiths represented at the table). Every one of us spoke of how grateful we were simply to spend time with such wonderful people and to share this special meal together. After my turn had passed I looked at all the smiling faces, glowing in the candle light. Here we were, a truly diverse group of people from Africa, Europe and North America, of all ages, Muslims and Christians alike, sharing a meal together and expressing our gratitude simply for being able to spend time with one another. I tried to freeze time for a moment and take a picture in my mind- this was such a special moment…it was the kind of thing that Christmas is all about.

After our meal we had a great time with the gift exchange and among some of the more original gifts, some went home with: pomeade from Nigeria, a shea butter soap bar, a pineapple…and my ultimate favourite- an umbrella tree!!! (remember that show Carly?)

Farmer's Day, Dec.7th

In Ghana, the first Friday in December is "National Farmer's Day"- a holiday where local farmers are recognized for their contribution to Ghana's agricultural production and recognized for their individual success. Award ceremonies are organized at the regional, district and national level throughout Ghana and politicians embrace the opportunity to share their message to the mass crowds (of course arriving with their entourage of large SUV's and closely followed by the local media).

I was invited by one of our partner NGO's to attend the Northern Regional celebration in Saboba, a small town near the Togo border. We left Tamale around 6 a.m. and made our way first towards Yendi. Yendi is a well known town about 45 minutes outside of Tamale..."well known" because that is where the Dagomba Chieftancy Crisis errupted back in 2002. Though the conflict has subsided in most parts of the North, Yendi is still a very troubled town, as the crisis has yet to be resolved and violence between the tribes still plagues the area.

One thing about road trips in Ghana, is that you can never enter a vehicle with the expectation that your journey will be an uninterrupted venture from point A to point B. Rather, it is a journey filled with short stops at numerous towns and villages to visit with a friend, pass a message on to a relative, check the price of yams, and conduct numerous other ventures along the way. Therfore, our "3 hour" trip nicely rounded out to a nearly a four hour escapade. So as mentioned above, our first stop was in Yendi, where I was left for about 15 mintues with the driver while my coworker conducted a short visit with a friend.

The driver was a lively man who was very interested in telling me about his life and learning about how things are done in Canada. I had a fascinating, but heartbreaking conversation with him about the situation in Africa and the struggles that most face everyday. Fusi told me that he spends half his salary on water because the "water has not flowed" in his neighbourhood for 5 years. The rest of his money is spent on his four children's school fees, three other relatives school fees that he's expected to pay, and then he mentions "What of food...I cannot buy proper vegetables or the food I'm supposed to after I have spent 4 months trying to pay my children's school fees...I do not have piece of mind". I know I do not often include these realities in my blog, but Fusi's story hit me like a slap on the face as I was forced to face the realities of a typical northern Ghanaian. He told me that "men die of frustration in this land" and reminded me that Africa "is not okay...the situation is NOT okay." I sat there for many minutes unable to muster a response- how could I possible tell him I knew how he felt or that I understood...we both knew the situation was not the same where I was coming from and anything I could think of to say felt so mediocre & petty. But Fusi seemed to simply appreciate that I had listened and he kindly smiled approvingly.

After the first stop in Yendi, we investigated yam prices in a few places and carried on. Midway through the journey we had to make a pit stop (of course at my request...darn that weak bladder) in the middle of the bush. There is no point in "holding it 'till the next town" because there won't be a bathroom in whatever village you might come across- if you're lucky you'll find one of my "favourite" cement structures like the one at T-Poly. So the bush would have been best, except my coworker had just finished informing me that the bush fires we kept seeing were started because farmers think that gets rid of some of the snakes. I squatted in the bush repeating to myself "Please no snakes, please no snakes...." while also attempting not to urinate on my long skirt or my leg.

Finally we arrived in Saboba were a large rectangle of canopies had been assembled in a parched, yellow field. Many people were bustling about and a local group of dancers and drummers were making their way around the inside of the rectangle. The ceremony began a few hours late and entailed nearly 40 awards of best cassava crop, best fisherman, best yams, etc. etc. etc. and the award our group worked on "Best Entrepreneurial Group". Most recipients received a bicycle and some other farm related goods from various different sponsors.

Once the ceremony was over I had a chance to visit with some of the EWB (Engineers without borders) volunteers who are working with MOFA (The Ministry of Food and Agriculture). Then it was back to the truck for a long, bumpy ride home and the acquisition of nearly 60 yams from various villages.

They've got that Rider Pride...

I'm a little behind with my blog, so at the risk of duplicating what some may have seen in the LP, I will quickly share with you where I was the night the Riders won the Grey Cup (and why I thought it was going to be the last night of my life, haha).

On Sunday evening at approximately 8pm our time, Shawn, Nichole and I began to prepare for a late night of listening to the Grey Cup game over the internet. We had done our research earlier that day to determine where we could find a 24 hour internet cafe and ensure we would be welcome until the wee hours of the morning. The Garbia Lodge, a hotel quite close to Jisonayilli turned out to be our best option, and we were fortunate it was within biking distance because it would have been virtually impossible to "pick a taxi" (local lingo) at the hour we finally packed it in.

We arrived at Gariba decked out from head to toe in green and white- Shawn wearing a watermelon on his head adorning a big "S";Nichole with her freshly painted green motorcycle helmet; and I with a bandana, pigtails, long white socks, and an unsightly combination of lime and grass green attire. We were armed with 4-5 hours worth of popcorn, pringles (an incredibley expensive import here), water and a terrible mixture of coffee and Milo that Nichole concocted. We were accompanied by two other Canadians who joined us for the beginning of the game (but due to the fact that they were from B.C. and Alberta, their stamina to stay up for the whole game dwindled...we expect simply because they were jealous, ; ) The staff got quick a kick out of our get-up and kindly showed us to the small internet cafe on the grounds.

Sometime around the 3rd quarter or so, at about 1:30 a.m. when we were down to just Nichole, Shawn, myself and a few crumbs of pringles, a man nonchalantly entered the cafe. I was in the far right hand side of the room, sitting on a table, with Shawn to my left, and Nichole a few feet further down, writing an email on the laptop. I looked over at the unknown man, who had not greeted us upon entering (a bit strange in Ghana) and realized he was holding a machette in this hand. His fingers were clasped around the handle and the blade was slightly concealed by his forearm. Perhaps it was the late night, or too much coffee, but all of a sudden my mind began to race as I imagined what on earth this person was doing in here at this hour with a machette. I slowly got off the table and began edging closer to the window (to evaluate whether it was a potential escape route) and tried to glance at Shawn to see if he had noticed the massive knife in our "visitor's" hand. Shawn seemed unconcerned, and Nichole hadn't noticed anything as she was engulfed in the article she was typing out. My knees began to feel weak as I panicked while the man's back was to us...he had turned on the small tv in the other corner and was standing watching it. Finally, Shawn went over to say something to him (I was hoping he would step up and be a man...haha) and shortly after the man left again. In the end, we were able to confirm that the man was actually Gariba's night watchman and he had simply come in to check on us. Most night watchmen carry machette's here (actually, so do school children sometimes if they're doing work in the field after school), so his "weapon" was not out of the ordinary. None the less, it took me a good 20 minutes to relax and have a good laught about it.

As we all know, the Riders won and though we weren't able to make it out for the mass celebration on Dewdney, we will likely never forget where we were the night the Riders won the GREY CUP! (And when I tell the story to my grandchildren, the machette will probably get bigger, the man will be larger and scarier, and the LP article will somehow become the global news. ; ) haha

North To Bolgatanga

Early Tuesday morning I travelled two hours north to Bolgatanga with Mike Wyse, one of the Project Management Team members visiting from Canada, and our T-Poly driver, Ziblim. The DREP project is a partnership between 3 polytechnics in the north and NSAC, so I was excited to meet the team members in Bolga and get some things moving up there.

Luckily the Bolga Road is one of the better highways in the north, so it was a pretty smooth ride. We started the morning off with a breakfast meeting with Dr. Batchia, one of the PMT members from Bolgatanga Polytechnic. He was an incredibly interesting man and helped us immensely over the next couple of days. He completed his masters in the UK and lived in the US for 7 years before returning home to Ghana.

Next, we had planned to do a classroom visit to one of the B-Poly classes and were anticipating approx. 50 students. But when we arrived, we were greeted with an auditorium of 200 first years. Mike and I quickly revised our game plan and got some activities started. The DREP teaching model is competency based and differs from most models here in that it is very participative. Students are sometimes shocked to find they can be loud and move around while they’re learning.

After our classroom visit Dr. Batchia took us to one of his favourite local restaurants where I gave fufu another try. Fufu is a big lump of pounded yam served with either okra soup (slimy and green) groundnut soup (think peanut soup) or light soup poured over it. The groundnut soup was delicious! (On a quick sidebar, I have to describe my favourite Ghanaian dish so far. It’s called Red-Red and it is a plate of spicy beans in tomato sauce served with chicken and fried plantains. The sweet taste of the plantains is a delightful combination with the spicy beans!)

Our next stop was a visit with one of DREP’s pilot program graduates, nicknamed “Professor”. Professor did the training in November 2005 and developed a business plan to raise guinea fowl and sell them commercially. We had an opportunity to visit his small farm and try some smoked guinea fowl. I was brave enough to try the meat even though the bird is smoked with the head, beak and talons all still attached. Grandpa would be proud!

Professor’s farm was about 30 minutes out of Bolgatanga so we had an opportunity to observe the damages that the September floods caused in this region of Ghana. Parts of the road were completely washed out with crevices up to my knees in some parts. The more devastating site was to see how dry it has become already. The land is parched and brown, the soil is cracked and baked dry from the sun and most of the baobab trees no longer have any leaves. We saw a wide stream completely dried up with nothing to indicate it had ever held water except for the curved markings in the sand. It is only the beginning of the dry season and I can’t imagine what things will look like come December. The rain will not come until April, and this is one of the areas where the food security NGO’s try to bring in food and water to prevent people from starving.

Despite the hardships that Professor’s family is facing, they were extremely lively and kind when we came to visit. I had a great time taking pictures of everyone and showing them the image on the screen. Some of the older women had probably never seen themselves in a picture. We could not understand each other but smiles, laughs, and handshakes went a long way. Professor showed us the homemade incubator he’s made by stacking small rocks all together where the sun can keep the eggs warm. He showed us the little mud huts the birds are kept in and the small mango trees he’s planted to provide shade and food for the farm. He rides his bike all the way from his mother’s house in town to the farm and carries the eggs back in a crate and transports the guinea fowl he will smoke in town with a contraption that looks like a big lobster cage.

We returned on Wednesday night in time for a quick shower (mine was a bucket shower…the water was off again) and then proceeded to the High Commissioner’s reception at the Mariam Hotel. It was a really nice, relaxed event with many of the same guests who were at the Thanksgiving celebration. The HC (Darren) and his wife, Heather were really interested in hearing about our internships and they had many stories to share themselves- they have previously lived in Malawi, Egypt, and Central America to name a few and they have just begun their three years here in Ghana. They have also just adopted a child from Haiti so she will soon be joining them in Accra.

I’m very thankful we have such a nice expat group here. Though we are all from various places in Canada we share a common bond to “home” and a common goal to try to make a difference.