Kumasi, Kumasi, Kumasi….

Well, it’s time for another status/life update. I’ve been reading blog posts of newly arrived volunteers and felt a bit guilty to not post something every month (or even week) like they do. But, that’s what happens when you’re eased into daily life anywhere you go (even in Africa!) --- things stop seeming that exciting and new, you just kind of live here. Even seeing something crazy (like people whose entire bodies are painted like flags of local political parties or a burnt shell of a VIP bus on the side of the highway) are not worthy a diary entry but simply a shrug (or a gasp).

For the last five months I’ve been living in the city of Kumasi. Let’s just say that it is not the most favorite city in Ghana, at least for volunteers. It’s confusing to get around, its dirty, tro tro mates and sellers grab you everywhere. Every time I traveled through there when I lived in the village I felt harassed, dirty and tired. But now I live in a little oasis called KSO which I fell in love with since my first visit here back when I was a trainee.

“Kumasi” literally means “under a Kuma tree.” Legends say that during the Ashanti Kingdom times a king decided to build a city wherever a kuma seedling would survive and grow (he planted several). So, that’s why Kumasi is where it is (which is conveniently right in the middle of Ashanti Region, or Kingdom). Ironically, there is a town next to it under the name of Kumawu, which literally means “a dead Kuma tree” – that is where the seedling did not survive.

Kumasi is a big trading hub – all types of goods are brought from the North and South; people break their travel to stay here. The infamous Kejetia market is one of the biggest ones in West Africa. You do not want to go there by yourself for the first time. But you can find anything there – literally, especially famous kente cloth woven by local artisans, wax print cloth and any second-hand clothing (even diving goggles). The city also has hundreds of hotels and guest houses. And, of course, churches and mosques are rampant. One of my local acquaintances told me: “This is what people in Kumasi do – they trade and then they pray.”

So, as you can see, it is not a hub of style and night-life like Accra or a land of NGOs like Tamale (which is still my favorite city in Ghana). But slowly but surely I am finding my way around, navigating through circles, markets and stores and find some “gems” along the way. For instance, I found a great TJ Maxx-like shop which sells brand new clothing from Europe and US for very reasonable prices. If I told you that I have just found fantastic pair of ski pants for about 6 bucks there, would you believe me? Ha, but it’s true! Another question, of course, is why ski pants are sold here in the first place. But I’ll tell you – a lot of people drive motos here, and they use warm jackets, pants and ski gloves to protect themselves.

I also found several trails to run and walk on, as well as places to buy yogurt, Indian food and hummus. So, even though Kumasi is not on everybody’s list, it’s growing on me.

Now, what am I doing here? Per previous post, I have been promoted as a PCVL, and so now my life is very different. I literally work from home and on the road. One day I may be at the house doing paperwork or reading a book, and another day I may have to hop on a car and drive to pick up a sick volunteer. I am literally on-call 24/7, like a 911 response. I have to be “on” all the time – whether to answer a question, to reserve a bed for someone or to buy a plane ticket for a medical emergency. Things are not as peaceful and quiet as in Adu Pri, but I manage. Plus, the team here is great: Aikens the driver is hilarious (the other day he pointed at a weird mural depicting a chicken with a tie and a Bible saying: ‘Praise the Lord, and stop using me for a fried rice!’); the guards are helpful and Uncle Sam who is a program assistant is simply adorable. My current position is a strange combination of a volunteer and staff duties. Sometimes I also feel like a mom…or at least experience what every typical mom in America does every day – shopping, cleaning and worrying. And delegating the tasks, of course J.

In short, over the past several months I’ve done the following:

Successfully petitioned for and installed two brand new toilets (not more weird algae thingy);

Got two new fans and a new fridge;

Fumigated the entire building;

Started an accidental garden (I planted beans but instead I got pawpaw);

Visited sites for new and replacement volunteers to collect data on housing, GPS coordinates, potential projects and safety issues;

Successfully removed a couple of volunteers from their unsafe site and found a new one for them;

Met and greeted a new group of Ag trainees (such a weird feeling, to see them and remember myself two years ago, fresh off the plane);

Found a place with a trivia night;

Reorganized the library;

Painted the TV room.

Sounds like a lot… but there is still plenty to do.

A Ghanaian Graduation

 One fine spring day, Miki and Hannah, a married couple who took me under their wing, invited me to their graduation at the University of Winneba, Kumasi campus. Ghanaians are very proud of their educational accomplishments, and take any graduation ceremony very seriously. Getting a laminated certificate for any course is also significant and is considered a great resume-booster. That is very reassuring since, by the time I finish with my service, I will have so many laminated certificates that my resume will be boosted for sure. Now, whether or not I will be able to get a job is another story.

Because we left our market town a bit late, and because of the traffic to Kumasi, we did not reach the campus until about 1.5 hours since the start of the ceremony. But then we were told that it did not start on time (just like all other events in Ghana).

Overall, a graduation ceremony in Ghana is just like the one in the US. There are speeches, singing of the school and national anthems, announcement of graduates, dressed up guests, photo snapping and so on. The only difference is that the announcement of names is read from the list, and not at the exact moment when a graduate receives his diploma. Also, the commencement’s program printed names of graduates under their academic standing, clearly marking not  only those who was in excellent (summa cum laude) second upper (cum laude) standing but also satisfactory and passed standings. 

The most striking thing about the whole day was the fact that the campus was full of freelance photographers who were hunting after happy graduates and their relatives. They set up huge tents with backdrops, printing machines and laminating devices (laminating is the key in Ghana – everything is laminated here so it would last forever, or at least until the next rainy season). Once Miki and Hannah walked with their caps and gowns (blue, white and yellow, rented), we were promptly ushered into one of these tents. A photographer snapped our pictures, and then started to haggle over prices for various photo products, including a “calandar” (a laminated one, of course!). 

After the obligatory photo business, we sat down while Miki and Hannah went to submit their caps and gowns and pay their last remaining school fees in order to receive their real diplomas (the piece of paper tied with a ribbon they got during the walk was just that – a piece of paper). Waiting is the most common state of mind and body in Ghana. People wait for public transportation, church service, appointments and meetings for hours at a time. Being patient is very important – otherwise one can go crazy with all of this waiting. While waiting for Miki and Hannah, I read a book and played with kids. I also taught Gladys, Hannah’s sister how to play a string game – you know, when you pull a loop of string with your fingers and make different shapes. She seemed to enjoy that. Also, while waiting, you tend to buy snacks that are sold from vendors’ heads – seems like an appropriate passing of time. Thus we purchased some water, plantain chips and biscuit for kids and munched on them. A side note – when I travel I don’t usually eat, but when I do, I buy a bofrut, yam chips or crackers to sustain me.

After more than two hours of waiting (which, if it were to happen in America, would have caused a riot on any college campus), we found out that graduates could not get diplomas on that day. So, we headed back to Western Region. I asked Miki if they were going to have a celebratory fufu at home. He smiled: “Yes, maybe.” A restaurant-going practice in US would not have worked in Ghana – usually a home-cooked meal is much better welcomed (and much more affordable) than the food from either an over-priced “obroni” restaurant or a local chop bar where food is served in semi-clean plastic bowls.

Status Update

Yes, its been a while since I wrote in my blog. Shame on me – especially since I was keeping the blog more for myself…. Well, things have been happening left, right and center, and I’ve got a bunch of status updates that took part in my service.

First, and foremost, I got promoted. I became a volunteer leader (or a PCVL in a peace Corps lingo), and will start my duties in June. Basically, I will be a den mother for other volunteers and will look after our regional office in the city of Kumasi (Ashanti Region). My service will be extended until December 2017 (I know, seems like an eternity from now, but it is only one extra year)…  Besides, what am I going to do in America anyway? As far as I can tell, the elections are a big mess, and who know who will get elected – so let’s just stay put to be on a safe side.

Being a PCVL will have its perks too – I will live at our regional office with running water, fridge, air conditioning and other advanced products of civilization. Plus, Kumasi is halfway from Accra and Tamale. Besides, I will be traveling on a special Peace Corps vehicle for business (I remember complaining about a peace Corps bus which took us everywhere during training; well, let’s just stay that I’m very nostalgic about those good old days now every time I ride an overheated tro crammed with sweaty people).

Buh-bye, good old blue latrine. You will be missed. Sometimes.

Second, I am finally figuring out my meaningful work – basically, projects that I’m most interested in. Peace Corps is one big improvisation, there is no clear job description. You’re just thrown into this one community and gradually figure out what makes you happy and what your community needs your help with. Well, I am happy to report that throughout the last year I found my happy place. Or, more like, places.

1. I’ve been teaching GrassRootSoccer activities to local schools. It is an HIV- and malaria-prevention program originated in South Africa, which, to me, is a perfect project for any Peace Corps volunteer. I’ve reached out to four schools and taught some 200+ shy but scrappy teenagers about causes of HIV, the correct way to use a condom, and other interesting things (e.g. reasons why the US government allows gay marriages, or an origin of Groundhog Day).

Learning team work and dangers of malaria.

This project brought good memories of my own high school days and our celebration of a World AIDS Day where I played a call girl who sang (in an Alla Pugacheva’s fashion) on how you can get HIV through a kiss with elements of sadism (read: biting).

Beating HIV one football at a time.

We did it!

2.       I’ve taught many people how to make batik and tie-dye. It may sound like something silly, but it’s been super-fun, creative and educational. Every time you do batik or tie-dye, you get different results – and most of the time, they are pretty good J). I’ve taught students, tailors, farmers and their wives, and my village neighbors even urban expats. Definitely a success story (see some photos). 

My little criminals at their creative best.

Teaching local Presbyterian church members.

3.
       I collaborated with Eyes on Africa, a non-profit organization, which sends free reading glasses to Africa. We did three distributions, and now over 300 people in Western region of Ghana can read their Bibles or check students’ homework without too much strain on their eyesight. I also connected other volunteers with this organization, and now they are also keeping busy with helping their villagers. Hooray!

Lovely farmer ladies with their new specs.

So, here we are. Comparing to some other super-volunteers who are building schools, latrines and borehole in their communities, it is not much.  But I’m proud of what I’ve done. Every person experiences Peace Corps differently. For some it is a good opportunity to figure out if development work is for them. For others, it is a chance to escape a daily grind of American corporate life; to see the world; to live outside one’s comfort zone; to experience something different. And to have fun while traveling on a rusty tro, of course.

Well, this one is not too rusty...