Girl Goes Ghana

Some of my friends and neighbors making gari, an extremely popular food made from cassava. It is difficult, sometimes, for me to share my experiences as a Peace Corps volunteer knowing that for many people, I'm their main source of information for what life in Ghana as like. I know that many of my friends and family extrapolate and assume that what is true for me is likely true for all Peace Corps Volunteers, or all Ghanaians, or all Africans. Here are some of my friends and neighbors hard at work making garri, one of the most popular foods in my town. I would like to take a brief moment to correct that and let you know that Ghana isn't poor. Neither am I, and neither are Peace Corps Volunteers in general. Let's start with me, since that's the easiest assumption to correct. In USD, our "salary" is a pittance. I could make more in a week at a minimum wage job in the United States than I live off in Ghana in a month. But that doesn't mean I&

A few weeks ago, there was an explosion in Accra, the capital of Ghana. It was pretty bad, and I thought my family might see it on the news and worry about me. I texted them to let them know I was alright, that the explosion was miles and miles away from me, and that there was nothing to worry about. The response? "We didn't hear about the explosion, but we've been worried about you every minute since you got on that plane to Ghana." I don't think this is uncommon for the families of people who join the Peace Corps. You're sending your loved one off for more than two years to a foreign country, and it ain't no Paris, France. Rightly or wrongly, I think many people have the perception that the countries that Peace Corps operates in are fundamentally dangerous in some way that the United States is not. Is there any truth to this? Not too much to be afraid of when this is the main road out of town. I can't speak for every Peace Corps country

So if you're reading this blog, I'd imagine you are at least a little interested in learning more about Ghana. Or hey, maybe you just like to giggle at the image of me struggling to wield a hoe or flailing around trying to kick a soccer ball. Yeah, I struggle sometimes. But for those of you interested in learning about Ghana, I'm afraid maybe I've let you down a little bit. I've only been in Ghana for ten months. Moreover, no matter how integrated I may feel, no matter how much I learn, I will never, ever be able to explain Ghana like Ghanaians do. My perspective will always be that of an outsider. So I decided to interview some people who might actually know what they're talking about: Ghanaians. (Left-right) Noah, 20 years old; Bright,  23 years old. These brothers, Noah and Bright, are good friends with one of my fellow PCVs, and over the months I've been here, they've become friends of mine, too. I decided to sit down with them and ask s

For the last two months, one of my counterparts and I have been going to the local school every Wednesday and Friday to deliver Grassroots Soccer sessions to a group of twenty-one adolescent girls. Since our sessions at the school will be coming to a close when the girls graduate tomorrow, I thought it might not be a bad time to clue you in on what I've been up to. I ran away to Ghana to become a professional soccer player. Grassroots Soccer (GRS) is an NGO that partners with Peace Corps in countries around the world. GRS is a method that volunteers can use to deliver education about HIV/AIDS, birth control, and healthy relationships, among other things. Although soccer (or football, as Ghanaians call it) is involved, the focus of GRS is using games and activities to help students talk about difficult subjects, and to help them feel empowered to take action in their homes and communities. A typical session goes like this: my counterpart, Evelyn, and I arrive at school aro

I'm not too proud to admit this, but I'm maybe a little overprotective of my belongings. When I was growing up, if I loaned a book to someone and it came back with some of the pages wrinkled, it would earn my unending wrath. And I have nothing but scorn for those who decide they'd rather pick at my entree than order their own. That doesn't fly so much in Ghana. From the moment I came to my site, I was surrounded by people giving me things. People come to my house with mangoes, coconuts, plantains, buckets of peanuts, more tomatoes than I can reasonably eat. If someone is eating or drinking something and I happen to walk by, they more or less insist that I take some. I visited the Queen Mother a few weeks ago and left with a giant bucket of peanuts. People treat this like no big deal, but it really does improve my quality of life to have random portions of food handed to me every week or so. I think I've mentioned before that the market is not super easy to acce

So my last version of this post was a huge hit with me, if even with no one else. Clearly a part two was required. So here we go: the toughest job I'll ever love (so they tell me) in the form of Disney songs. 1. Reflection (Mulan) A lot of people who are living in a country that is not their own feel a degree of alienation from their surroundings. Unfortunately, there are definitely days in Ghana when I look in the mirror and wonder who is looking back. Before coming to Ghana, I cut my hair. I wear glasses instead of contacts. I even go by a new name and speak a new language. Some days, I really feel that even my closest friends here won't get to know who I really am. There are no shortage of stories I can't share and values I keep to myself because it might cause people to lose respect for me. Then again, it's not all gloomy. There are plenty of days I'm full of laughter and happiness. And then--there are the Mulan days. 2. A Whole New World (Aladdin)

Most of you probably know that I'm in Ghana as a health volunteer, but I don't think many are aware of the fact that officially, I am a Health/WATSAN volunteer. WATSAN means Water and Sanitation. When I first arrived in Ghana, I wasn't quite as excited about that part of my job as I was about the other parts. I was much more interested in educating people about malaria and HIV than I was about improving water and sanitation practices. However, the longer I am here, the more I recognize that issues with water and sanitation are a massive part of the health issues here in Ghana. For example, a lot of babies and children suffer from frequent diarrhea that could probably be prevented with regular hand washing. But if bringing water to the house entails walking five miles with a fifty pound bucket of water on your head, hand washing might not feel like such a priority. A lot of people are aware that burning trash at home is associated with respiratory issues, but if there is

So, a lot of you like to ask me what I'm doing here. Fair enough question; most people don't leave their homes and families for two years without the idea of accomplishing something. Well, buckle up, ladies and gentlemen, because almost eight months into my Peace Corps service, I finally have a good answer to anyone who asks me what I've accomplished here in Ghana. Me with some of the students at the camp.  Two weeks ago, a group of volunteers and I brought some of our best students to a GLOW/BRO camp in the Eastern Region of Ghana. GLOW/BRO stands for Girls Leading Our World and Boys Respecting Others. The program was started by Peace Corps volunteers in Romania back in 1995, and since then, it's spread across the world and become one of Peace Corps' most reliable and successful girl's empowerment programs. In our version, each PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) living in the Eastern and Volta Regions of Ghana sent between two and four students to camp, where t

So I've been planning this post for a while. I have made a lot of people listen to me ramble on as I planned it. And maybe no one will find it quite as amusing as I do. Nonetheless, without further ado, here are the Disney songs that best encapsulate my life in the Peace Corps. 1. Belle (Beauty and the Beast) Basically everything that Belle says in this song are thoughts that go through my head on...pretty much a daily basis: "Little town, it's a quiet village. Every day like the one before." Maybe that doesn't describe Peace Corps life so much as rural life anywhere in the world, but it's definitely something I've had to get used to as a newly minted citizen of a town of 200. I also am a fan of Belle's favorite method of entertainment: reading. If I am otherwise unoccupied, you can usually find me sitting on my stoop outside of my room with my nose stuck in a book. Finally, and most importantly, much like Belle, the moment I leave my house e

Before I got to Ghana, I was under the impression that chiefs were a bit of the thing of the past. I knew that Ghana was a democracy--one of the most stable democracies in Africa, with free and fair elections. Just like the United States, it has a President who is elected every four years. Under this system, where is there room for a chief? That's what I thought. But oh, how wrong I was. Every community has a hereditary Chief and Queen Mother. They are not related to each other, and they aren't married; rather, there is generally one family in town that produces Chiefs, and another which produces Queen Mothers. Here is me with the Queen Mother and Chief tying a bracelet to my wrist to welcome me to the community. Next to me is our community nurse, Emelia. The Chief generally controls just about everything in town. When I wanted to start teaching English lessons, I asked the Chief. When I wanted to form a committee to discuss sanitation projects in the community, I

Back in April, when I visited my community for the first time, the town hosted a welcoming ceremony. They sang and danced for me, I sang and danced for them. They thanked God for sending me to their town, and I tried to hide how incredibly intimidating I found that. All was going well. Then they asked my name. Now, I happen to like my name. And I've lived in a few different countries and never had any particular trouble with it. However, for whatever reason, despite the fact that all the sounds in my name are also present in Ewe, it seems to be impossible for people in my community to pronounce without significant coaching. They can get "Billy" or "Belly" just fine, but when I try to get them to say "Bailey" I might as well be trying to get them to imitate the sound of the vomiting cat. They seem to think it's a little uncouth, and probably not worth the effort. Thus, the very first night I spent in my new home, I was given a new name: Adzo.

When I was little (and not so little), my mom was fond of reciting a nursery rhyme to me: "Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row." I don't know what a cockle shell is, but in all fairness, I do have a tendency to be contrary. I came to Ghana to be a volunteer in the Peace Corps health sector. Of all the Peace Corps sectors in Ghana (health, education, and agriculture), I would say that ours is the most loosely defined. At my site, I don't have any projects that I'm specifically assigned to work on. For the first three months, in fact, we are not encouraged to work at all. Instead, we are meant to spend time getting to know our new neighbors and friends and practicing the language. This is all well and good, but to be honest, there are only so many hours I can spend every day socializing and hanging out with people with whom I still don't share a common language. I have a

In the United States, I am used to feeling fairly confident about my accomplishments in life. Minimally, I know I am capable of getting through just about any interaction without violating any unspoken norms and of taking care of myself on a daily basis. Living in Ghana has changed that a bit. Before being placed in our permanent sites, the other trainees and I underwent 10 weeks of cultural and technical training. You would think, after ten weeks of that, that little things like eating and sitting without making a fool of yourself would be easy. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. For example, shortly after I got to site, my landlord offered me an orange to eat. I was very happy to accept. However, the thing about oranges in Ghana is that A) they are not orange, and B) if you try to eat them like you eat oranges in America, you will make an utter fool of yourself. To eat a (green) orange in Ghana, you need a knife. You slip the nice between the hard, green outer peel and

It's not just Americans that ask. Ghanaians are curious, too. I just wish it were a little easier to answer: What are you doing here? To many people I've met, the fact that a yevu (white person) has decided to settle down and make a home in a small village in the Volta region seems to be somewhat inexplicable. So for those of you who are reading this, I'd like to provide at least a little insight into what exactly it is I'm doing here in Ghana. I've been in Ghana since February, but have only officially been a volunteer for a month. Before that, I was a Peace Corps Trainee. If you'd seen me at that time, you might have been impressed by how much I was accomplishing. From eight to six every day--or sometimes longer--I was busy studying Ewe, learning about health issues and Ghana, and trying to understand a brand new culture. Needless to say, I somewhat overestimated my free time (and access to technology.) So what's it like now that I'm a volunteer?