Cocoa Drying

On Independence Day, Match 6th, I accompanied my host mom and uncle to his farm. While we were there we paid respect to the chief of the village, telling him of our "mission" in his village and presenting him with a loaf of bread like good Ghanaians should. I was ecstatic to see the cocoa process in person. Seeing it made me think of one of my favorite childhood books about two girls, one who lived in Maine and the other in the tropics. Their lives were related by the trade of ice blocks for cocoa. While I have no ice blocks to trade, I  have traditions, ideas, and smiles to share.

You know you are in Ghana When…

• You are an “Obruni”, a white person/foreigner. You cannot even walk two paces down the street without being noticed. Children are either adorably enamored with you, in awe of you, scared of you, or demand things from you. “Obruni, give me money”, “Obruni, koko matche!” (Foreign red person, good morning!)
• You get around everywhere in these vans called tro-tros which are pretty much the best idea ever. Cheap public transport (that is technically private since each van is privately owned).
• You take a bucket shower at least twice a day.
• Your water works about ½ the time.
• Power is on for about 3 or 4 nights of the week. Right now it’s on a cycle where you get it from 6:00pm-6:00am and then the next day from 6:00am-6:00pm. Thus, about ½ of the week you have power. Here they call the power outages “Lights off” and they are orchestrated by the electric company unlike in Maine where the only time the power was out was due to storms or some other issue with the lines not the lack of electricity like the power outages are here.
• To get your attention people hiss at you, beckon you with their palm facing toward you and their fingers moving into their palm, screaming bra, obruni, or school girl. And well, after being here for 6 months, you also call people with bra, the come gesture, and yes, you do hiss to get someone’s attention.
• One of the first questions you are asked is “Are you a Christian?” There are two options for religion here; one is either a Christian or a Muslim. While they are tolerant of each other, the concept of not believing in God does not exist in Ghana. For the exchange students who don’t believe this has proved to be very difficult. 
• You receive countless marriage proposals; have to deal with a ridiculous amount of sexual harassment. People constantly tell you they love you & that you are beautiful even though it’s not you it’s just your skin color. Try explaining that to them though, they deny it.
• Every morning you have to “lay” your bed. Fitted sheets do not exist here thus you have to make sure the sheet is neatly tucked in. Heaven forbid you leave a crease, and no matter how hard you try to make it perfect, rest assured your host mom will find fault in it. 
• People try to convert you to their form of Christianity claiming yours isn’t right & without their version you will go to hell.
• In school if you do anything wrong you are caned. (Except if you are an obruni, which is pretty much a get-out-of-jail-for-free-card.)
• Parents beat their children.
• One greets by asking how the person is doing i.e. Ete sen? How are you?
• You realize although growing up distaining/making fun of sardines, they actually don’t taste half bad.
• 2 cedis turns into a lot of money. The idea of going back to American prices is something you dread.
• Crying is literally beat out of children.
• People ask you: “Do you know so & so, he/she lives in Ohio/the Bronx/Virginia?”
• There is a dance move called ‘The Al-Qaida’ and no-one, except your one classmate who lived in the Bronx for 2 years, thinks that it’s named strangely.
• There are food sellers everywhere. Be it food on ladies heads or at stalls.
• Noise Ordinances do not exist. In the middle of night you can be berated by super-sterofied club music or amplified all night long church service complete with hours of “speaking in tongues”.
• You have convinced more people you are half-Ghanaian than that you don’t have a boyfriend. (Sadly, I am not exaggerating at all.)
• Unlike in the US where you go to a grocery store and keep food in your house, one just walks a little down the road to a metal crate store or to a market to get anything they need.
• People carry EVERYTHING on their head and you try to too. Some things you are better at carrying than others.
• Water comes in sachets that cost 10 peswas which you bite into the side of and well, suck the water out of it. At first you though this was weird but now you can’t imagine life without them. Paying a buck for water-yikes!
• You squat pee like a pro now and laugh at how you used to be afraid of doing so.
• You have seen “bathrooms” that are worse than anything you imagination could have come up with. You will never complain about a bathroom in the US again.
• At home you are not “Lydia” but your Ashanti/Twi day name, “Abena”.
• Talking to random strangers isn’t weird anymore and you wonder why you didn’t do so in the US.
• You can greet people in at least 5 different local languages but are not fluent in a single one.
• You say the Lord’s Prayer and the Al-fitr every morning during morning assemble
• You understand the majority of what is being said in Twi but cannot speak it very well.
• You have major respect for everyone especially your classmates since they are all so strong. They say “we suffer” and it is true, they do. But it’s not terrible, their lives are harder than their American peers but life is still life and where ever you go it is still beautiful.
• People always ask you “Can you eat {Insert any Ghanaian food such as Banku} ?” “Do you chew or swallow your fufu?”
• “Do you know you have pimples?” or “What is that rash on your face?” or “Why do you have pimples?”
• You are getting fat and are told that daily by a host of people. Be it a neighbor, a relative, a classmate, and even a guy who you can tell is interested in you. Here they consider it a complement. My [least] favorite memory of this occurred while I was walking with some of the girls that I run with. One of the girls patted my stomach and realizing that it was not air or extra clothing but rather my fat exclaimed “Oh my Lord! Your stomach is HUGE! You really need to do more ab workouts.” And they said before I came to Ghana that Ghanaians were indirect. Yeah, I don’t believe that.*
• This conversation happens way too often.
• “Where are you from?”
  “I’m from the United States of America.”
  “Oh, America. Which state?”
  “Maine”
  “No, what STATE?”
  “I’m from the state of Maine.”
  “No, what STATE?”
  “Maine, it’s the STATE I’m from.”
  Yeah…

• Pears=Avocados
• Boutique is spelled like Butik
• Pants=Underwear & Trousers=pants
• Rubber=A plastic bag
• To flash someone=to call someone but hang up before they can answer so the other person will call you back and using their credit.
• You see just as many American flags as Ghanaian ones
• Traveling across country alone is no big deal, you do it all the time
• Not knowing where you’re going other than a name is no problem since you just have to ask anyone and if they know they will help you
• Everyone seems to have a relative or know someone in either the States or somewhere in Europe.
• You are extremely proud to be an American. You have become extremely patriotic since coming to Ghana. You realize how extremely blessed you are to be a citizen of the best nation in the world. (Yes, you may have become a bit bigoted.)
• Girls to middle aged ladies ask to marry your brother, even though you don’t have one. Once they realize this, they ask for one of your guy friends.
• People believe that Obama, Beyoncé, & Jay-Z among others are “devil-worshipping free masons”
• People believe Obama planted a chip in every Americans arm as part of Obama care.
• You are totally in love with the popular Ghanaian music.
• People not only do not believe you when you say you don’t have a boyfriend, they accuse you of lying.
• People throw their friends under the bus for fun. Even telling the teacher to beat them and laugh at their friends when they are beat.
• Commenting mercilessly over someone’s deteriorating appearance is not even considered rude here. I.e. The other day one girl saw a picture of how I looked in the US and told me “Man, you used to be pretty! Why are you so ugly now?” Gee, Thanks.
• Chop=eat
• You can actually see the outline of the sun!
• People are convinced that since you are white, you are rich. Which compared to most Ghanaians you are. One time I had ran out of money and when asked why I didn’t buy something, the shop keeper was aghast by my answer that I had no money, exclaiming “But that’s impossible! You are an Obruni!” with the same look on his face as a child who had just found out that Santa Claus isn’t real.
• Your host mom always asks you how things are in London are even though other than the 2 hours you spent at Heathrow on your way here, you have never set foot in Europe.

* I’ve come to realize that the assumptions/cultural profile AFS Ghana provided us for Ghana is completely subjective. What I consider indirect or family oriented means something completely different than what Ghanaians consider those aspects to be. I’ll expand this thought in a separate blog post.

Becoming a Sports Girl

My school is famous for quite a few things; one of its main claims to fame is its superb athletics team. Here athletics is the sport we call track & field. Myself being a 3 season runner in high school, thought it was imperative that I join this team. I was never that fast, one of the key factors that lead me to focus on long distance running, and have no qualms about admitting I am not that good but I'm not sure I was prepared for the complete mortification that occurs every time I run on that track.

Coming to Ghana has one effect on a majority of females: you get fat. The carb-based diet, ginormous portions, and an "eat-all" cultural mandate, coupled with my lack of exercise has led to my ever increasing waist size and dissipating muscles. I was so set on running before I came but the idea of exercising on the streets in plain view of the annoyingly sexist, cat-calling men here, paired with my first experience running ending in two extremely bloody knees & laughing onlookers made me stop the practice.

Due to this disturbing change in my physic and physical ability, it is very laughable that the fat obruni wants to run. Yet, I have been waking up at 4:30 in the morning in order to be on time for before school training and attending the second 2 hour training period after school. I am no sprinter and am the first to admit that I am slow. Yet, as I completely mortify myself running my hardest about 100 meters behind everyone else, at the beginning putting up with the unhelpful catcalls and plain laughing in my face (there is no such thing as laughing behind ones back in Ghana, people are extremely upfront about it), I could not be happier, I am back in my element. Somehow, the team has not only accepted the fat obruni-ba (white lady) onto the team, they actually really like me. Through my daily mortification, I believe that they have come to respect me. Respect the fact that while I am no hardcore athlete, I'm trying. I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am to all the people on the team. All the made of 100% muscle African boys and girls who make succeeding on the track their life. I have no place in their ranks, they are all amazing national winners, yet they let me join and actually like me. This extremely kind and humbling gesture has melted my heart and filled me with such gratitude. I will be forever grateful to every member of the Amass athletic team. Being part of a team, exercising and sweating with others, definitely has to be one of my favorite things in the world and one I hoped to do as an exchange student.

These athletes are phenomenal, proving the stereotype true a hundred times over. Just as I, sadly, proved the stereotype true that white chicks can't run. I apologize to all those out there that defy that stereotype, I do not have the ability to refute it. These athletes train everyday 2 hours before school & 2 hours after it. They dedicate their lives to the sport. I am not exaggerating at all when I say running literally is their life. Many of them don't even come to classes and it is not like in the states where one has to be a student athlete, here there is the choice between being an athlete or student during the running season. All these runners dedicate their life to sport, and most of them say their goal is to get a scholarship to run in the US for a college team. Some of them tell me their goal in life is to run for America. There is such a love and desire for the United States here that permeates everywhere and in the world of sport, it is understandable. Here these kids are for sure talented enough to be completely boss at college athletics in America and hope to go to a place where they can continue to base their life and lively hood on being an athlete.

I'm by no means a professional athlete, I'm just an exchange student who wants to get back in shape and be on a team. Not only has the team welcomed me with undeserved open arms, they have let me come back to the sports dorm with them in order to use their bath house and change into my uniform before I go to classes, a kindness that is greatly appreciated.

The Baba Yara Sports Stadium which is across from my school and is the location of our daily practices. It is a pretty awesome location for practice, though I do really miss GNG's Libby Hill Trail System.

Isha, my "Sports Mother". Since day one, she has taken me under her wing and making sure I feel accepted . I will forever be grateful to her.

These are the two fastest girls on the team in their Anniversary wear. Watch out for these two in the Olympics, I believe that the girl on the right is the fastest girl in Ghana if the rumors I heard are true. Seeing her run, I don't doubt it. 

T.I. Ahmadiyya’s 63rd Anniversary

Today, February 16th, 2013, was my school's 63rd Anniversary which apparently is a huge deal. My friend informed me that they celebrate their anniversary every decade. Why they celebrate it on the 3rd year is beyond me but I appreciate their originality. We have been preparing for the anniversary for a long time. Last week we did not have a single class instead we beautified the school by cleaning, sweeping, scrubbing, painting, and they did a lot of remodeling. I wish I had a picture of the new front gate to show you guys, for it turned out spectacularly. Also for the anniversary, we got special uniforms, suits technically.

My hair was done beforehand by another student whose mom is a hairdresser.

My classmates. Klinsman & Najat- & you wonder why I have trouble remembering names

For all the preparations and long time spent getting ready beforehand in the dorms, painstakingly attempting to look one's best, the ceremony was pretty anticlimactic. It was pretty much just adults droning on about how great Amass is. Amass is a very good school and has 3,107 students, as I learned today but truthfully spending a whole day listening to speeches of aging Ghanaian men while I melted away in my prescribed suit & long sleeved shirt was not exactly my idea of the super fun day that people had been talking about for months. While it was not all it was cracked up to be it was still pretty impressive. My favorite part being the koranic verses being recited and watching the cadets & marching band who have been practicing every day after school for the past month in preparation for this.

Hanging Decorations for the Anniversary

It was such a big deal that the Ghanaian Minister of Education came and the Asantehene was supposed to come but bailed at the last minute, much to my chagrin, as I had been really looking forward to be in the presence of the Ashanti monarch, Otufumfuo Osei Tutu II.

The procession of all the dignitaries that came to the celebration. While the Asantehene was a no show, he sent some important chiefs in his stead.

While the ceremony itself was mildly dull, it was very fun to see everyone dressed up in suits. Best of all was people watching the parents of students and former student who had gone all out in terms of dressing for the occasion. The beautiful vibrant fabrics, alluring veils, and majestic headdresses signature to Africa made this occasion quite special.

My wonderful friends acting natural

Dinner?

ABC, one of the AFS Volunteers, expressing his distress over the fact that some of the inhabitants of the AFS Bus opposed to him bringing on road-kill. ABC thought it would make a perfect soup. But it’s Bush Meat he cried. Nice try ABC, Obrunis don’t like roadkill in the bus for long bus-rides. Not going to lie, his outrage over our indignation towards the dead-for-who-knows-how-long-road-kill sort of made my day.

Markets

One of the best things about Ghana is the markets. These markets are the center piece of life in Ghana. They are where everyone shops for their ingredients but they house so much more than that. Along with piles of fresh produce from tomatoes to vats of ground nut paste to not so nice smelling meat, there is often a variety of other things for sale. Items for sale here seem to be either used clothing items from the Western world or reject items from Chinese factories. The saying one man’s trash is another man’s treasure is so true here.

Markets are usually found next to tro-tro stations and definitely fulfill the fantasy of African markets which has festered in my brain since reading about them in childhood storybooks. And the market of all markets is located right here in Kumasi. I still have yet to figure out its many nuances but Central Market is completely awe-inspiring.  It is loud, crowded, and filled to the brim with merchandise from a huge produce section to a neon meandering pathway filled with shoes to fabric filled corridors to hairdressers and seamstresses. It is an overwhelming place filled with so much your eyes don’t know where to look.Your mind wanders down the winding paths following the basket carrying girl whose eyes caught yours for a second. Her eyes, much older than her apparent age, gave away so much, yet nothing at the same time. As she disappears into the bustling crowd you paint her life story on the metal bowl carried on the head of the lady in front of you. 

I haven’t taken out my camera in the market due to it being notorious for crime since the amount of people makes criminals conspicuous. But I took a few pictures in one of the markets in Atonsu a wicked quick walk from my house. The quality of the images aren't good but here it's hard to take pictures since having a camera is such a frivolous thing, I don't like taking it out. 

On Christmas Eve, I accompanied my host mom into Adom, the name of the area that houses the central market & Kejetia tro-tro station. It was unbelievably packed with people. Here are some pictures of the crowds taken from a tro while we were leaving.

Fish Out of Water: Being White in Sub-Saharan Africa

I am a fish out of water here in Kumasi; a bustling city full to the brim with colors, miniscule patches lush green fauna so covered in trash they are in inhabitable, and an incessant swarm of people, rendering it impossible for solitary runs. Impossible to go unnoticed, as I like, in the sea of beautifully dark skin that can spot my difference from a mile away. There is no fitting in, there is no blending in with the crowd, there is only attempting to imitate them, yet I am still distinctly different and I will never, ever be one of them for my skin color is too much of a barrier to ever overcome. They will always view me differently due to my skin color. This often saddens me since I will never get a truly African experience since I am stuck in the White man in Africa’s experience. The struggles I go through as a white woman in Africa in not something that I share with Africans. It is a struggle that I must bare alone, and it is a struggle that has united me to my fellow AFS students in a way nothing else could. We are experiencing something solely unique to being white in Africa, something which few people know but once they do they will never forget for as long as they live.