The Group

Isabel Penaranda, Columbia University

Our last full day in Asuansi Farm Institute. The only sounds are the dutiful typing of keys, and the fan (as the power has mercifully returned). Yesterday we had a small goodbye party, in which we served fried plantains (my Colombian contribution), artfully arranged peanut-butter and jelly crackers, GORP, pudding, hummus and soda – our taste of America for the past few weeks. I didn’t know how Ghanaians felt about this reception-style format at first– what would be the local way to say goodbye? – but seeing our Divya argue with Julius, one of the farm students, about Ja Rule, as I talked to Irene about how incredibly difficult it is to find books on agriculture in Ghana, it struck me that we were doing good.

I’ve struggled a lot with this identity of the obroni (white person), of coming here with, if not a straight-up volunteer project, at least with the hopes of “doing good”. These arguments repeat in my head again and again, with all the familiar guilt about being white and privileged. I’m ok with not having any answers to those feelings; I expect them to continue to define that bizarre new identity, that of someone who works in development, which I seem to be heading towards.

The books we brought initially seemed like an afterthought – I had no way to gauge how impossible it is to find them in Ghana, what it means to only have access to books from 1972 in the subject you are dedicating your career to. Then again, I gave my rubber boots to a family I befriended in Asomdwe, a more remote town I liked to bike to. I wanted so badly to feel connected to them, and I think to a certain degree we did. But in giving them my boots, my sunglasses, did I just reinforce the narrative of the white privileged handing out goodies? Did I set a precedent for other members of the community to try to befriend obronis because of the material rewards?

I was in a Zen monastery before I came to Ghana, which might explain the tone of this post, but as we leave what has been our home for the past month, I think, at least in my mind, the idea is to look for some sort of conclusion to provide closure. But for me, the best way of coping with the changes, the guilt, even the joys, is to feel them as questions. I can’t say whether, when you add it all up, we did ‘good’. But I got a thorough exploration of my own intentions and reactions, of negotiating complex realities. That the questions unleashed now will lead to others, and those to others, and that will hopefully lead to a wiser kind of development work. But to me, seeing them as questions leads to a humility and grounding which keeps away a crippling guilt or arrogance, and also opens up more possibilities. That seems more important than having a fixed idea on what we got done.