Well, it seems Ghana is getting hotter than I could have ever imagined. It’s so weird to experience the weather getting warmer at a time when I’m used to fall starting. It’s been in the mid to upper nineties all week during the day, sunny without any clouds. Normally, I could handle this heat but it’s coupled with heavy humidity. However, the international students seem to be the only ones affected. Basically all of the Ghanaians at the University wear jeans or trousers during the day, and I even saw a girl wearing a jacket and scarf out today. I don’t understand how these people do this, because I generally wear shorts / a skirt /a dress and immediately start sweating profusely as soon as I step outside. Luckily, it cools down (maybe to about 75 degrees) at night, so we have a small break from the heat.
Unfortunately, the water has been out again in the hostel. I’m not sure if I’ve blogged about this already, but everyone here drinks water out of plastic bags. You rip the corner off of the bag and then proceed to suck it / squeeze it out. So, when the water goes out, you have to use the bagged water for brushing your teeth, washing your hands and washing your face. I don’t know if any of y’all have tried it, but washing your face with a bag of water is difficult. I find myself holding the bag near my face, closing my eyes and squeezing / hoping I don’t miss my face. It’s pretty funny to watch other people use the bags of water for various hygienic activities and provides some much needed comic relief from the situation.
Yesterday, we travelled to the Togo embassy to apply for visas. We will be going to Togo this weekend and will spend Saturday and Sunday exploring. On our way back to campus, we caught a taxi and had an interesting conversation with the driver. It seems the driver’s aspiration is to gain entry to the U.S. and live in Brooklyn, NY (Alex, I told him to live in Prospect Park). Once I told the driver we were from America, he became very excited and asked if we would invite him to our country. I told him of course, I invite him to the U.S. He then asked if we could accompany him to the U.S. Embassy, because they “love the white man and ladies” there and we could surely help him get a visa. I tried the best I could to explain to him America’s strict immigration laws and visa lottery system, but I’m not sure I got my point across. The driver also told me his brother sells gold and diamonds in the black market and to call him if I’m interested.
Also yesterday, we had our usual Monday dance class. The dance studio is a large, open air room with a wooden floor. There are a few fans, but they are hardly ever on. Needless to say, a lot of sweating goes on in this room. Anyway, this is beside the point. We’ve been learning a traditional dance for a few weeks, and we also have learned a song to go along with it. It sounds something like this:
Nack ee nay
Nack ee nay
EE bee nack ee nay
Jay jay
Obama bama shoeessss
The song has something to do with the oldest girl in a household, but I’m not exactly sure. It’s pretty difficult to simultaneously do African dance while singing in a different language. Yesterday, instead of continuing learning our dance (which has been pretty boring considering we only learn 2-3 movements per class) one of the T.A.s led us in a sort of warm up / aerobics routine. It was so much fun! We were jumping all over the studio, doing fan kicks and shakes, etc. It made me really miss cheerleading / dance and just moving around wildly in general.
During my last Human Rights in Social Work Practice class the professor began by discussing current events that have been happening in West Africa. Apparently in rural West Africa, Albino parts are considered to be extremely valuable and to have mystical powers which convey wealth and prosperity to the owner. Recently, a 14 year old Albino boy was killed so that his body parts could be sold on the black market to witch doctors. It was shocking to hear about this type of crime, especially since I’ve mainly been in Legon and Accra, where rural villages and traditional practices are miles away and not visible on the surface. Apparently hunchbacked people (who are fairly common here) are also valued for their body parts. It’s pretty insane / really sad what people will do for money. There is an obvious, large black market for dangerous and dangerously acquired items such as arms, diamonds, body parts, etc. Another shocking practice I learned about is Trokosi, a traditional (but still occurring) practice in which in order to atone for a family member’s sin, a virgin girl is given to priests of the village’s shrine for life. (this is a really interesting / horrible practice if you care to look into it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ritual_servitude#In_Ghana). I really can’t fully grasp the amount of traditional practices that are still common in rural villages here. The lives of people growing up in the cities are completely different from the lives of people growing up in rural villages. It’s a sometimes depressing / captivating case study of the effects of colonization and globalization. Clearly, the traditional cultures of the villages still exist, yet in the cities, the culture of the West has permeated everything from the religious beliefs to popular dress and music. I think this is a unique situation only really present in certain stages of developing countries. It’s very obvious here the divide between the older generations and the people my age and younger. Even just observing the difference between popular dress provides evidence of the divide. All of the older women I’ve seen (those who look about thirty or older) wear long dresses made with bright, traditional fabrics, and all of the younger women I’ve seen wear Western style jeans and shirts. Most of the younger people speak fluent English, while the older people generally stick to Twi. I’m not sure exactly what I’m trying to say here, I’m mostly just trying to make sense and draw conclusions from all of the observations I’ve made. I believe in twenty years, with the constant influence from the West and the continuous change into a more developed country, Ghana will have changed tremendously. Anyway, sorry for that large chunk of Sociology major babble.
Volunteering, like many things here, has been disorganized and slow moving. Upon returning to the hospital for the third time, I was informed that the counseling for HIV/AIDS patients is done in Twi, the local language, and so I would be of little help. I’m aggravated at the lack of volunteer opportunities here, as this was one of the things I was most excited about doing while on this program. There are so many practices here that I would love to work with (FGM, prostitution, human trafficking, witch camps, HIV/AIDS, etc.) but I'm having a really difficult time finding opportuinities / most of these issues are not discussed or acknowledged, there are few NGOs, etc. However, I am not willing to give up my pursuit. One of the girls on my program brought me a card with contact information for a human rights and gender organization, so I am planning on visiting the organization tomorrow.
Well, I believe I will grab my shower things and see if any of the surrounding hostels still have water, as I am covered in the daily dirt / sweat. Everyone has to promise to still love me and want to hang out with me even if I come back dirty and smelly : ).
I’m very excited about travelling to Togo this weekend, and will have more to report on Monday!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
As of late
Sorry it’s been so long since my last post!
School has kicked into full gear (aka my professors have been showing up on a regular basis and we had our first assignment). Also, our internet as been out for the last few days.
Our first assignment, a group paper on the history of criminal justice, turned out well. Although we had to have our faculty advisor set up an appointment for us to speak with our professor and the professor showed up an hour late, we finally understood the assignment and turned it in Friday.
My endeavor to volunteer with HIV/AIDS has seen some progress. Catherine and I finally had an appointment to gather information, and I hopefully will be starting next Wednesday volunteering with a woman who counsels patients with HIV/AIDS. I’m very excited about this and I will report more about how my first day goes.
Last Friday, I was in my Human Rights and Social Work Practice class, and the professor started talking about 9/11. He spoke about how terrorism was a real threat, not only to Americans, but to everyone in the world. It was strange to be in Africa and still hear about the effects of terrorism. The professor mentioned that the war in Iraq was a completely different issue, but supported the efforts of the military in Afghanistan. I can’t remember the last time I talked about 9/11 on the anniversary in school, so I guess it was just odd to all of a sudden be experiencing it in a foreign country.
Last Sunday some students from UNC and some students from PennState went to Champs to watch the Panthers vs. Eagles game. Champs is a sports bar in central Accra that shows many American sports games. Although they were only able to find the Dallas Cowboys game on the television, the food was exciting. They had an entire “Texi Mexi” section, which included chimichangas and nachos. Needless to say, I was really pumped about eating Mexican food which I’ve been craving. The bar is obviously tailored to American tourists and has dishes such as apple pie with ice cream and burgers.
On Saturday Catherine, Katy, Michael, Jordan, Matt and I travelled to Accra’s largest open air market, Kanta Mantu (sp?). The market was teeming with vendors selling literally everything you could ever think of. Among the sights was a woman carrying dead roosters in a bowl on her head. We headed into the market and walked through city block after city block of vendors selling shoes, soccer jerseys, clothes, etc. As soon as the vendors saw us (white people) coming, they would grab our arms and not let go until we jerked our arms away. It was kind of a hassle to actually get to the vendors we were interested in, but when we did it was a treasure trove of very inexpensive soccer jerseys and shoes.
Saturday night Catherine, Katy, Michael and I went to Champs for karaoke night. We took a cab ride over in which the driver barreled down the highway tailgating and passing every car we came into contact with. While I thought twenty years of riding on the highway with my father driving would prepare me for anything, we all found ourselves clutching the handles on the doors and gasping as we slid into tiny spaces between cars. Champs turned out to be a lot of fun, we talked to an American in his late forties who was eager to discuss politics (we were too until he revealed Fox news was his primary news source and that it was the least biased of all) and also two men from Lebanon. Catherine and I entertained everyone at the bar with our own rendition of “Ice Ice Baby”, and we also sang hits from Journey and Bon Jovi. The taxi ride home proved to be more eventful than the first. Everything seemed normal until the driver politely asked Michael to pass him a giant liquor bottle from under the seat, and then proceeded to take bottle shots as he drove stick shift. When we arrived at the hostel, Catherine, Katy and I jumped out of the backseat and Michael stayed in the front seat to pay the driver. We waited for Michael inside the front door of the hostel to pay, when suddenly the three guards outside the door yelled and started sprinting towards the taxi. Of course, yet again, the driver had decided to try to charge us more for the ride and yet again Michael had gotten stuck in the taxi. It’s annoying how service people here assume that because we’re Americans it’s okay for them to attempt to rip us off constantly.
Cultural Observation:
Most every day we buy fried egg sandwiches from a small stand in the night market. The stand is run by two young women whom up until this incident I assumed were in their mid twenties. I was waiting for my egg sandwich the other day when the woman asked me what my name was and how old I was. I then asked her the same questions, to which she replied, “how old do you think I am?” I guessed 24, based on the fact that she seemed mature and was always working at the stand. She laughed and revealed to me that she was eighteen, and that the other woman who ran the stand (who is also about six months pregnant) is seventeen. I guess this shouldn’t have been so shocking to me, but it hit me rather hard that these girls were at least two years younger than me, yet running a business and starting a family. While in America these girls would be considered young adults, perhaps graduating from high school, hardly ready to start their “adult careers”, it is perfectly normal here for these girls to be financially independent. Standing at the egg sandwich cart, I made a realization. While it’s easy to say deep down, we’re all human and therefore all the same, it’s difficult to deny the fact that I have a completely different life trajectory than the majority of the women here. Apart from the obvious observation that these women have little access to higher education, they also expect to have certain things: a family, a job, a home, at an age when most American girls are worried about what prom dress to buy. I guess the point I’m trying to make here is that Americans’ concept of childhood is completely different from that of the wider world. For examples, what we consider child labor may be an accepted and necessary means of survival for families in less developed countries.
Today, Monday, we have school off because it is the 100th birthday of the first President of Ghana. There is a ceremony taking place at the monument dedicated to him, but not much else going on. We’ve been spending the day doing a bit of homework and relaxing. Not much planned for the upcoming week, but we might travel to Togo, the country to the east of Ghana, this weekend!
School has kicked into full gear (aka my professors have been showing up on a regular basis and we had our first assignment). Also, our internet as been out for the last few days.
Our first assignment, a group paper on the history of criminal justice, turned out well. Although we had to have our faculty advisor set up an appointment for us to speak with our professor and the professor showed up an hour late, we finally understood the assignment and turned it in Friday.
My endeavor to volunteer with HIV/AIDS has seen some progress. Catherine and I finally had an appointment to gather information, and I hopefully will be starting next Wednesday volunteering with a woman who counsels patients with HIV/AIDS. I’m very excited about this and I will report more about how my first day goes.
Last Friday, I was in my Human Rights and Social Work Practice class, and the professor started talking about 9/11. He spoke about how terrorism was a real threat, not only to Americans, but to everyone in the world. It was strange to be in Africa and still hear about the effects of terrorism. The professor mentioned that the war in Iraq was a completely different issue, but supported the efforts of the military in Afghanistan. I can’t remember the last time I talked about 9/11 on the anniversary in school, so I guess it was just odd to all of a sudden be experiencing it in a foreign country.
Last Sunday some students from UNC and some students from PennState went to Champs to watch the Panthers vs. Eagles game. Champs is a sports bar in central Accra that shows many American sports games. Although they were only able to find the Dallas Cowboys game on the television, the food was exciting. They had an entire “Texi Mexi” section, which included chimichangas and nachos. Needless to say, I was really pumped about eating Mexican food which I’ve been craving. The bar is obviously tailored to American tourists and has dishes such as apple pie with ice cream and burgers.
On Saturday Catherine, Katy, Michael, Jordan, Matt and I travelled to Accra’s largest open air market, Kanta Mantu (sp?). The market was teeming with vendors selling literally everything you could ever think of. Among the sights was a woman carrying dead roosters in a bowl on her head. We headed into the market and walked through city block after city block of vendors selling shoes, soccer jerseys, clothes, etc. As soon as the vendors saw us (white people) coming, they would grab our arms and not let go until we jerked our arms away. It was kind of a hassle to actually get to the vendors we were interested in, but when we did it was a treasure trove of very inexpensive soccer jerseys and shoes.
Saturday night Catherine, Katy, Michael and I went to Champs for karaoke night. We took a cab ride over in which the driver barreled down the highway tailgating and passing every car we came into contact with. While I thought twenty years of riding on the highway with my father driving would prepare me for anything, we all found ourselves clutching the handles on the doors and gasping as we slid into tiny spaces between cars. Champs turned out to be a lot of fun, we talked to an American in his late forties who was eager to discuss politics (we were too until he revealed Fox news was his primary news source and that it was the least biased of all) and also two men from Lebanon. Catherine and I entertained everyone at the bar with our own rendition of “Ice Ice Baby”, and we also sang hits from Journey and Bon Jovi. The taxi ride home proved to be more eventful than the first. Everything seemed normal until the driver politely asked Michael to pass him a giant liquor bottle from under the seat, and then proceeded to take bottle shots as he drove stick shift. When we arrived at the hostel, Catherine, Katy and I jumped out of the backseat and Michael stayed in the front seat to pay the driver. We waited for Michael inside the front door of the hostel to pay, when suddenly the three guards outside the door yelled and started sprinting towards the taxi. Of course, yet again, the driver had decided to try to charge us more for the ride and yet again Michael had gotten stuck in the taxi. It’s annoying how service people here assume that because we’re Americans it’s okay for them to attempt to rip us off constantly.
Cultural Observation:
Most every day we buy fried egg sandwiches from a small stand in the night market. The stand is run by two young women whom up until this incident I assumed were in their mid twenties. I was waiting for my egg sandwich the other day when the woman asked me what my name was and how old I was. I then asked her the same questions, to which she replied, “how old do you think I am?” I guessed 24, based on the fact that she seemed mature and was always working at the stand. She laughed and revealed to me that she was eighteen, and that the other woman who ran the stand (who is also about six months pregnant) is seventeen. I guess this shouldn’t have been so shocking to me, but it hit me rather hard that these girls were at least two years younger than me, yet running a business and starting a family. While in America these girls would be considered young adults, perhaps graduating from high school, hardly ready to start their “adult careers”, it is perfectly normal here for these girls to be financially independent. Standing at the egg sandwich cart, I made a realization. While it’s easy to say deep down, we’re all human and therefore all the same, it’s difficult to deny the fact that I have a completely different life trajectory than the majority of the women here. Apart from the obvious observation that these women have little access to higher education, they also expect to have certain things: a family, a job, a home, at an age when most American girls are worried about what prom dress to buy. I guess the point I’m trying to make here is that Americans’ concept of childhood is completely different from that of the wider world. For examples, what we consider child labor may be an accepted and necessary means of survival for families in less developed countries.
Today, Monday, we have school off because it is the 100th birthday of the first President of Ghana. There is a ceremony taking place at the monument dedicated to him, but not much else going on. We’ve been spending the day doing a bit of homework and relaxing. Not much planned for the upcoming week, but we might travel to Togo, the country to the east of Ghana, this weekend!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
One Month In
The week after our trip to Volta region seemed to be pretty uneventful.
Classes went on, some of my professors showed up, about half didn’t. My Social Work and the Law Courts class (the one I was most excited about because it involves my two career interests), was pretty interesting. I don’t actually mean the material (which we haven’t gotten to yet), but the experience. Katy, Michael and I arrived at 7:15am to our class, which starts at 7:30am. By the time we got there, the room was already packed. I would estimate that this classroom was built to hold 50 people comfortably. However, by the time 7:30am arrived, there were at least 150 people crammed into every possible space in the room. I found myself sharing a desk / chair combo with Katy and Michael. The professor arrived around 8:15am and proceeded to spend the next two hours calling out students’ names and dividing everyone into 21 different groups. He then explained each group was in charge of a research project. He didn’t actually call out Michael, Katy or Is names and instead just said “Oh, the three of you in the back! You’re all in a group together.” (we’re the only non-Ghanaians in the class). He then told us to talk him after class so he could explain the project. We pushed to the front of the classroom as quickly as we could at the end of class; only to find our professor had left. We ran to the social work department only to be told that our professor had left for the day and that we weren’t allowed to have any of his contact information. This was extremely aggravating considering we haven’t received a syllabus or any information about this project we have to do. It’s really difficult to get used to the way the university operates.
On Sunday we left the hostel early and traveled into Accra for the Ghana vs. Sudan soccer game! It was a World Cup qualifier game and the city was alive with Black Stars spirit. We bought our tickets and bought drinks near the stadium. Whenever you buy a drink in a glass bottle (which basically everything comes in) you have to bring the bottle back to the vendor when you’re finished. We took our drinks to a food vendor and after we finished eating were enjoying our drinks sitting at a table under the shade. A woman eventually came up to us and tried to take our empty bottles. We told her we had purchased them from another vendor and had to bring the bottles back, but were still sitting at the table because we had finished our food. She started screaming that we were “stupid foreigners”, and that we weren't allowed to sit at her table without ordering more drinks. Catherine turned to her and told her that we would have bought drinks from her, but now weren’t going to because of her rudeness. The woman (who was probably about 6 ft and 200 lbs) turned quickly to Catherine and said, “the next time you insult me, I will hit you”. Needless to say, we quickly left.
Getting to our seats in stadium was also an interesting experience. I’ve noticed that anywhere there is a large crowd, Ghanaians don’t form a line, but instead just push each other to get wherever the line is going. The entrance to the stadium was a tiny doorway with a revolving door, and there were hundreds of people trying to get in. We ended up right in the middle of the crowd, and there were more than a few times I thought I might be pushed down to the ground and trampled to death at any time. After a few dozen minutes in the sweltering heat being pushed by hundreds of Ghanaians, we entered the stadium.
Everyone in the crowd was cheering basically nonstop through the game, which I loved. I tried to learn the cheers and songs, but I don’t think they were in English so I’ll have to try to pick them up next time. The game was really fun to watch and Ghana won 2-0! Near the end of the game, people in the crowd pulled out road flares and flame torches and set them off in their hands above everyone’s heads. It was pretty crazy / probably really dangerous. I can’t imagine what would happen if someone tried to set off a road flare at an NFL game…
After the game we went out with a graduate student we had met and a few of his friends in downtown Osu. We had a great time and they showed us some nice spots in the area to go at night.
Nothing too exciting has gone on since Sunday. A new vegetarian food stand opened in the market near the hostel and we’ve eaten there everyday this week. My favorite is the tofu sandwich which is marinated tofu, lettuce, beans, avocado, tomato, cucumber and sauce on wheat bread. It’s pretty delicious and I’m looking forward to trying other things from the stand. I’ve been surprised at how non-picky I’ve been since I’ve been here.
Catherine and I have been to the university hospital twice this week trying to work out volunteer opportunities. If all goes well, I’ll be volunteering in the HIV/AIDS clinic there.
Classes went on, some of my professors showed up, about half didn’t. My Social Work and the Law Courts class (the one I was most excited about because it involves my two career interests), was pretty interesting. I don’t actually mean the material (which we haven’t gotten to yet), but the experience. Katy, Michael and I arrived at 7:15am to our class, which starts at 7:30am. By the time we got there, the room was already packed. I would estimate that this classroom was built to hold 50 people comfortably. However, by the time 7:30am arrived, there were at least 150 people crammed into every possible space in the room. I found myself sharing a desk / chair combo with Katy and Michael. The professor arrived around 8:15am and proceeded to spend the next two hours calling out students’ names and dividing everyone into 21 different groups. He then explained each group was in charge of a research project. He didn’t actually call out Michael, Katy or Is names and instead just said “Oh, the three of you in the back! You’re all in a group together.” (we’re the only non-Ghanaians in the class). He then told us to talk him after class so he could explain the project. We pushed to the front of the classroom as quickly as we could at the end of class; only to find our professor had left. We ran to the social work department only to be told that our professor had left for the day and that we weren’t allowed to have any of his contact information. This was extremely aggravating considering we haven’t received a syllabus or any information about this project we have to do. It’s really difficult to get used to the way the university operates.
On Sunday we left the hostel early and traveled into Accra for the Ghana vs. Sudan soccer game! It was a World Cup qualifier game and the city was alive with Black Stars spirit. We bought our tickets and bought drinks near the stadium. Whenever you buy a drink in a glass bottle (which basically everything comes in) you have to bring the bottle back to the vendor when you’re finished. We took our drinks to a food vendor and after we finished eating were enjoying our drinks sitting at a table under the shade. A woman eventually came up to us and tried to take our empty bottles. We told her we had purchased them from another vendor and had to bring the bottles back, but were still sitting at the table because we had finished our food. She started screaming that we were “stupid foreigners”, and that we weren't allowed to sit at her table without ordering more drinks. Catherine turned to her and told her that we would have bought drinks from her, but now weren’t going to because of her rudeness. The woman (who was probably about 6 ft and 200 lbs) turned quickly to Catherine and said, “the next time you insult me, I will hit you”. Needless to say, we quickly left.
Getting to our seats in stadium was also an interesting experience. I’ve noticed that anywhere there is a large crowd, Ghanaians don’t form a line, but instead just push each other to get wherever the line is going. The entrance to the stadium was a tiny doorway with a revolving door, and there were hundreds of people trying to get in. We ended up right in the middle of the crowd, and there were more than a few times I thought I might be pushed down to the ground and trampled to death at any time. After a few dozen minutes in the sweltering heat being pushed by hundreds of Ghanaians, we entered the stadium.
Everyone in the crowd was cheering basically nonstop through the game, which I loved. I tried to learn the cheers and songs, but I don’t think they were in English so I’ll have to try to pick them up next time. The game was really fun to watch and Ghana won 2-0! Near the end of the game, people in the crowd pulled out road flares and flame torches and set them off in their hands above everyone’s heads. It was pretty crazy / probably really dangerous. I can’t imagine what would happen if someone tried to set off a road flare at an NFL game…
After the game we went out with a graduate student we had met and a few of his friends in downtown Osu. We had a great time and they showed us some nice spots in the area to go at night.
Nothing too exciting has gone on since Sunday. A new vegetarian food stand opened in the market near the hostel and we’ve eaten there everyday this week. My favorite is the tofu sandwich which is marinated tofu, lettuce, beans, avocado, tomato, cucumber and sauce on wheat bread. It’s pretty delicious and I’m looking forward to trying other things from the stand. I’ve been surprised at how non-picky I’ve been since I’ve been here.
Catherine and I have been to the university hospital twice this week trying to work out volunteer opportunities. If all goes well, I’ll be volunteering in the HIV/AIDS clinic there.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Volta Region
Last Friday we (the UNC study abroad group) left at 7 am on a bus to travel to the Volta region.
Our first stop was a tour at the Volta dam, where the majority of power in Ghana is generated. We were shown how the energy is harnessed and the process by which the energy is converted into electricity.
Our second stop was a monkey sanctuary! The monkey sanctuary is inhabited by four families of monkeys. In ancient times, the monkeys were considered gods and worshiped by the tribal peoples. The monkeys in this particular sanctuary were called Mone. They are small monkeys with long tails. So cute! We walked through trails with a guide who made noises to call the monkeys. Soon we were surrounded by one of the families and given bananas. The monkeys would climb down the branches, lean onto our hands and peel the bananas with their tiny fingers.
The next day we climbed up the tallest mountain in Ghana. The climb was a straight incline the entire trip and at many points we hand to crawl on our hands and knees along the rocks. I don't normally enjoy hiking, but I really enjoyed the challenge. The climb was long and after about an hour we reached the top. Standing on the top of the mountain was amazing. Although I don't like heights, the view from the top was beautiful. Miles were visible of dense forests dotted occasionally by small villages. Soon after we arrived at the top, a group of local children reached the top and surrounded us with smiles and endless questions about who we were and if we could take pictures of them. They reminded me of Thomas, because I could totally see him sprinting up a huge mountain and then running around once he got to the top.
After a quick lunch at the hotel (they had mac n cheese!) we hiked to the Wli Falls. Along the way, our guide pointed out cocoa trees, coconut trees and bananas trees. The waterfall was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. We decided to try to swim into the pool the waterfall drained into and under the waterfall. We got about halfway to the fall when the spray hit us. It literally felt like thousands of tiny needles stabbing me all over my body. Needless to say, we didn't get much closer to the waterfall. Upon exiting the waterfall pool, I was pulled by about six different Ghanaians who were overjoyed to have a picture with someone so white.
We returned to our hotel, exhausted from all of the physical activities. We ate dinner and soon heard drumming and yelling coming from the village near the hotel. We traveled down the road to find a group of about fifteen children playing drums in the street. They pulled us into their circle, and soon we found ourselves dancing along to the music. We learned that there was a church service going on in the village and we went to check it out. The church service was outdoors and very lively. The sermon and singing were in a local language, but the spirit and excitement of the people didn't need to be translated into any language. There was much music and dancing as well.
The next day our tour guide informed us that we would be having a "relaxing, leisurely day" visiting caves and a local weaving workshop. However, the "relaxing, leisurely" description turned out to be false. We soon found ourselves climbing up yet another mountain to reach the caves. We then had to climb basically vertical sheet rock with small indentations to reach each cave (there were five). There were more than a few times when I looked down and realized if I made one wrong move I would probably fall down the side of a mountain. Our guide was a wiry older man who climbed everything holding a machete. It's amazing how many completely normal things here would be very illegal in America.
Later in the day we traveled to a Batik workshop, where village women used wax and dye to make patterned cloth. We also visited a weaving workshop where very detailed patterns were woven.
On the way back to our hostel, we stopped at the Volta Lake. The lake was beautiful and I really want to go back and rent a small canoe. While there, we stood on a giant area that 40 years ago had been completely covered by the lake. Global warming!!
Our first stop was a tour at the Volta dam, where the majority of power in Ghana is generated. We were shown how the energy is harnessed and the process by which the energy is converted into electricity.
Our second stop was a monkey sanctuary! The monkey sanctuary is inhabited by four families of monkeys. In ancient times, the monkeys were considered gods and worshiped by the tribal peoples. The monkeys in this particular sanctuary were called Mone. They are small monkeys with long tails. So cute! We walked through trails with a guide who made noises to call the monkeys. Soon we were surrounded by one of the families and given bananas. The monkeys would climb down the branches, lean onto our hands and peel the bananas with their tiny fingers.
The next day we climbed up the tallest mountain in Ghana. The climb was a straight incline the entire trip and at many points we hand to crawl on our hands and knees along the rocks. I don't normally enjoy hiking, but I really enjoyed the challenge. The climb was long and after about an hour we reached the top. Standing on the top of the mountain was amazing. Although I don't like heights, the view from the top was beautiful. Miles were visible of dense forests dotted occasionally by small villages. Soon after we arrived at the top, a group of local children reached the top and surrounded us with smiles and endless questions about who we were and if we could take pictures of them. They reminded me of Thomas, because I could totally see him sprinting up a huge mountain and then running around once he got to the top.
After a quick lunch at the hotel (they had mac n cheese!) we hiked to the Wli Falls. Along the way, our guide pointed out cocoa trees, coconut trees and bananas trees. The waterfall was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. We decided to try to swim into the pool the waterfall drained into and under the waterfall. We got about halfway to the fall when the spray hit us. It literally felt like thousands of tiny needles stabbing me all over my body. Needless to say, we didn't get much closer to the waterfall. Upon exiting the waterfall pool, I was pulled by about six different Ghanaians who were overjoyed to have a picture with someone so white.
We returned to our hotel, exhausted from all of the physical activities. We ate dinner and soon heard drumming and yelling coming from the village near the hotel. We traveled down the road to find a group of about fifteen children playing drums in the street. They pulled us into their circle, and soon we found ourselves dancing along to the music. We learned that there was a church service going on in the village and we went to check it out. The church service was outdoors and very lively. The sermon and singing were in a local language, but the spirit and excitement of the people didn't need to be translated into any language. There was much music and dancing as well.
The next day our tour guide informed us that we would be having a "relaxing, leisurely day" visiting caves and a local weaving workshop. However, the "relaxing, leisurely" description turned out to be false. We soon found ourselves climbing up yet another mountain to reach the caves. We then had to climb basically vertical sheet rock with small indentations to reach each cave (there were five). There were more than a few times when I looked down and realized if I made one wrong move I would probably fall down the side of a mountain. Our guide was a wiry older man who climbed everything holding a machete. It's amazing how many completely normal things here would be very illegal in America.
Later in the day we traveled to a Batik workshop, where village women used wax and dye to make patterned cloth. We also visited a weaving workshop where very detailed patterns were woven.
On the way back to our hostel, we stopped at the Volta Lake. The lake was beautiful and I really want to go back and rent a small canoe. While there, we stood on a giant area that 40 years ago had been completely covered by the lake. Global warming!!
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