Nathaniel Hsieh: Kenya Fellow, USC

After about an hour and a half drive on dirt roads (a term generously used) that left many more than car sick, we finally arrived in Entasekera. This Maasai community, while small, contained a health center, Female Genital Mutilation CBO, secondary school, and special needs center. Considering the nature of my research I was extremely excited to visit the special needs center, but I don’t think anything could quite prepare me for what we were about to see and experience. As soon as we reached the center which was situated on top of a small hill, a lady approached us with a huge smile and outstretched hand. “Hi, my name is Franceska,” she began, and before long we were walking around the complex toward her office. A sign on one of the walls read “Namelok-Naretoi Home for Handicapped” and she explained that “Namelok-Naretoi” meant “sharing success”- in essence what the center aimed to do with all who were involved, disabled and “able” alike.  Once inside, Franceska began sharing her story which, we soon realized, was inextricably intertwined with the story of Namelok-Naretoi. Twenty years ago, Franceska embarked on a journey to simply gather data regarding people affected by disability in the surrounding yet remote Maasai villages. Being herself a Maasai, she knew that a large part of what she would be doing was finding disabled children who were often times hidden by communities who regarded them as cursed. After a few years of intensive field work and research, Franceska commenced her campaign to raise awareness in these communities, tearing down deep-seated communal beliefs that disability resulted from curses, witchcraft, and divine punishment and establishing a new paradigm that affirmed people with disabilities as made in the image of God and hence extremely valuable. This effort to simply effect a cultural paradigm shift lasted for four to five years before Franceska realized the need to do something with the handicapped children she had successfully brought out of hiding. Thus around fifteen years ago Franceska began Namelok-Naretoi as a rehabilitation center which purposed to provide disabled children with necessary surgeries and therapies at hospitals and centers she was familiar with because of her background as a nurse. The eventual goal was to provide these children with an education whether it be through integration into schools for “typical” children or placement into appropriate special schools. Though she admitted it was not easy (at times she even carried children on her back from their village to the center) the corkboard on the back wall of her office testified to the fact that her labor was not in vain. Pinned on literally every square inch of the board were pictures of success story after success story- one girl with sever hydrocephalus who now looks completely normal and is in secondary school, one boy with clubbed feet who can now walk, boys and girls with cleft lips, debilitating burns, cerebral palsy and more who are now living and learning to the fullest of their abilities. Over the years Franceska has helped over 150 of the neediest children in the region with the financial backing of a Dutch organization which aims to support children with disabilities worldwide. Due to the economic downturn a few years back however, this organization has not been able to give the Franceska the funds needed to keep the center running. “The problem is no longer cultural stigma- mothers are bringing their disabled children to my door- it is that I cannot take more children,” Franceska explained, “I can barely take care of the ones I already have.” Franceska runs a small hotel business using some of the rooms, refuses to take a salary for herself, takes abandoned children home with her during the holidays, and receives help from only two former students (both of whom have disabilities) in order to support the 14 children living at Namelok-Naretoi and the 16 plus who are being sponsored to attend school. Still, she smiles. I honestly don’t know how she does it and felt humbled to be in the presence of someone who has- without attention, appreciation, or praise- sacrificed so much. All I know is that on the drive back to Ilkerin, my focus was no longer on the bumpiness of the roads. I had been changed by this experience which has, for me, been the definitive moment of the trip thus far. Not only have I been given new direction for my research, I want to do all I can to “share success” with Namelok-Naretoi and enable Franceska to continue the remarkable work she has already begun. 

Guenevieve Del Mundo: Kenya Fellow, UC Davis

Every once in a while I get a movie montage moment - a flood of flashbacks set to some sappy reflective song or hum.  Today’s trailer of memories was triggered by a ridiculously warm welcoming performance by the students of the Ilkerin Primary School.  Words cannot and will not capture the feeling and emotion that all the fellows felt. Hopefully this small glimmer can shine light on the warmth the community shared with us. 

Imagine a large empty concrete hall.  There are a few windows scattered across three of the walls and the last has a large counter used to deliver our food.  There are two long rectangle tables set side by side with green and blue tablecloths on top of it.   All sixteen of us are seated, eating another delicious dinner (the usual goat, cabbage, Ugali - a Kenyan favorite - and couscous) cooked by Mary.  We all eagerly finish our food, knowing the children are outside waiting to perform for us.   As the last plates are gathered the blue double doors burst open with dozens of students. Kids who were no taller than my knee were carrying large benches and tables from their classrooms into the hall.  For a good thirty minutes the hall was filling up with the every student that boarded with the school.  For the first time since we’ve arrived, all the students and fellows were united under one roof.  Once everybody calmed down the clamor of voices settled into whispers then finally into silence as Jeremiah, one of the teachers (and also the host for the boys of our fellowship), introduced the production. 

I was overwhelmed by what they had prepared for us.  I genuinely felt like Julius Caesar when Cleopatra visited, it was truly a performance fit for a king.  Gospel songs were sung, traditional dances were danced, and comedic dramas dramatized (I’m pretty sure it was something about a radio station; it was all in Kiswahili so we took our giggling cues from the rest of the audience).   Laughter was shared harmoniously among ourselves and the children. I was overcome with emotion during their songs.  This is when it hit me, I’m in Kenya.  The highlights of the past week played in my head to the song of the Ilkerin students:

The relief I felt when I saw another fellow, Hong, at the Amsterdam airport

The image of a mother cheetah caring for its two-day-old baby

The hundreds of thousands of wildebeests and zebras we stalked during their migration

The walking safari that ended with a view of the entire Maasai Mara and a tour of a modest Maasai village

The bus ride through Kenyan mountains

The applause we received as our bus pulled into the school  (literally the entire student body, in their uniforms, stood at the gate and applauded at our entrance)

The Health Club singing their competition piece for me.

The endless games the fellows and I played with the children.

The moments where a child calls my name out to say “Hi” or “How are you”

The countless inside jokes and fits of laughter I have shared with my fellow fellows.

Beautiful voices powering beautiful memories.

The guests of honor (us fellows) had front row seats and were laughing and bouncing along with all of the performances.  Finally, as the show came to a close, Joseph - another one of the teachers, called upon us to share a little bit of our talents and culture with them.  We all stood up knowing whatever we came up with on the spot would be underwhelming in relation to theirs.  Facing the audience, you could see that there was a full house- students were standing on their tables to see over their classmates.  We decided on the national anthem, the so-cal roll out, and the fight song - all of which was a blast to perform (although I’m not quite sure what it was like to watch).   Regardless, the audience roared into applause as another one of our fellows walked across the stage with his hands.  Their excitement was heartwarming to say the least.   The evening ended with a prayer and rounds of applauses.  We left the building in a wondrous daze.  This is a night I will never forget.

The soil that the human race was born on.  The soul of the country.  The joy of the kids.  I’m in love. Kenya is a country full of culture, filled with people so welcoming and so willing to share.  I feel so at home, so honored, and so humbled to be here.  It has only been five days and already I have fallen in love with this country and its people.  “Asante sana.”  

Amy Regan: Kenya Fellow, NYU

Today we interviewed Abel, the headmaster.  Following Abel’s interview was Jane’s, the newest teacher at the school, only 24 years old.  Jane is a stunning Maasai woman, thin with curly hair and the outfit typical of teachers the world over; a floor-length skirt suit.  She is married with two children, and teaches the 140 or so 3-6 year old children in Early Childhood Development.  She was sweet and silly with an infectious giggle that came tumbling out throughout the interview.  After, we found a group of girls practicing songs for church in one of the classrooms.  We audio recorded as much as we could with an empty battery, and the girls kept singing and singing for us.  A crowd of students followed Zippy as she filmed, and a smiley little girl named Mariam climbed into Lexi’s lap.  I ran out of batteries and ran to the house where the group is staying to pick up more.  On my walk to the house, two girls named Brenda and Patricia were gathering firewood by the road.  I walked with them and we chatted casually about their day at school.  They are boarding students who stay with one of the teachers, Edna who gave me her green scarf when I complimented it on the first day.  As the three of us walked, each of them carrying firewood and me carrying toilet paper for Moses’ house.  We passed the Catholic Church where a much smaller group of students were practicing songs for mass.  The girls walked me to the school gate, and quickly returned to summon me to their home where Edna wanted me to visit.  I stayed for over an hour in a wonderful visit with my new friend.  She is also, incidentally, Mariam’s mother, the girl I had met just an hour before.  The three of us enjoyed traditional Kenyan tea that Brenda and Patricia prepared.  It was an odd separation of the girls who were boarding- Brenda and Patricia- and the family of the house- Enda and Mariam.  Edna’s husband is a teacher in a school 3 hours away, and walks back and forth each weekend.  Edna is in a masters’ program in Nairobi, hoping to earn a higher income for her family and guests.  Currently she feeds and houses 9 boys and girls.  I regretfully left Edna’s after giving her my email and hoping to keep in touch, and went to dinner with the rest of the group. 

After dinner we had a treat.  The pastor, Jeremiah, had prepped the students to perform for us.  All the boarders filed in behind the few rows of visitors.  The first to perform was the youngest group, singing a sweet song of praise.  Then there was a skit of a radio broadcast in Maa, which made it funnier than the expected Swahili, and those in the audience other than the American visitors were roaring with laughter.  The final 2 songs were the highlight of the trip by far.  The first was a warrior song and dance of all boys, with harmonizing chants that blended the younger tenor and older bass.  The faces of the boys were full of focused pride, continuing the traditions of the Maasai warriors.  Many of the boys will leave school to study warriorism after they are circumcised.  They will live together and uphold the traditions of their ancestors, a distinguished honor that many anticipate throughout their primary years and is a reason that some boys do not continue to secondary attendance.  For the final song, the girls joined the boys in a celebration song that was literally too big for the space.  The students sang in unison, with a few boys and girls leading the chants accompanied by a solitary instrument, the long dark horn of an impala.  It was a perfect end to a perfect day.  

Divya Rao: Kenya Fellow, USC

So far this journey has been incredible and incredibly different than my time in Ghana with Blue Kitabu. Our trip started off with a two-day retreat at Camp Oldarpoi next to the Maasai Mara to safari and take in the vastness that is the reserve. This was probably the first time that I’ve been completely stunned into silence—the magnificence of the never-ending savannah blending into the horizon with hundreds of animals dotting the sun-touched plains is truly unforgettable. The sounds on the safari only made the experience more intense—fast Maa and Swahili buzzing through a radio next to the rumble of our safari bus, and the rustling of tall dry grasses in the wind while wildebeest and zebra scatter in front of us. It’s honestly no surprise that the best sightings of the trip were completely unexpected—a female cheetah nursing her baby, a male lion dozing in the midday heat, groups of elephants traveling with their young, giraffes frolicking in the morning, the wildebeest migration, and hippos relaxing in the few pools of water remaining in the Mara.

On our last day at Camp Oldarpoi (and Mayra’s birthday!) we got to go on a walking safari up the mountain behind the camp and then go to the Maasai village that the camp supports. We were escorted by three incredibly patient Maasai warriors, who let us try our hand at both archery and throwing various weapons without fear of us destroying everything (a very real possibility).  At the village we were greeted by the traditional dances of the men and women. Also, we were able to visit a boma—the traditional home of a Maasai, which was surprisingly small, cramped, and dark. We also got to watch how the Maasai traditionally make fire—by rubbing a slender stick into a flat piece of polished wood to make small embers, which added to kindling make fire.

After being surrounded by nature and watching these endangered animals simply living, my desire to pursue my research project on elephant poaching has most definitely been confirmed regardless of the many obstacles in my way. I’ve already had the opportunity to interview the founder of Camp Oldarpoi, and our amazing guide, Nelson, who’s given me really interesting information about the situation regarding elephant poaching in the Maasai Mara. I’m looking forward to the leads that I have in Narok and new opportunities to learn about poaching in Ilkerin!

Four Days Until Kenya!

Hello BK Friends and Supporters,

Blue Kitabu has evolved so much as an organization in the past few years and the fellowship has blossomed into a wonderful exchange mechanism for US students traveling to Ghana.  We are thrilled to be able to extend this program into Kenya starting in just four days.  Please check in regularly to view new blog posts, as we will also be posting video blogs from our location in the Loita Hills.  These should give you a vivid representation of what exactly we are trying to accomplish with the fellowship.

We have fourteen incredible graduate and undergraduate students joining us in Kenya and they are researching topics ranging from climate change affecting Maasai farmers to women's health issues and everything in between.  We hope you enjoy hearing all about their adventures!

Sincerely,

Elizabeth and the Blue Kitabu Team

Paula Narvaez: Ghana Fellow, USC

Halfway through the program and I am still discovering new things on the daily. Life in Ghana has been so humbling and intriguing. I can honestly say that I feel fully immersed into the lifestyle here.

As I edit a few photos that I have taken, I reminisce on the past few weeks and all of the memories attached to these photograph stills. I still have to hold my jaw up because I can’t fully grasp the fact that I am actually here, in Africa. I have had nothing but lovely encounters and positive experiences.

Focusing on art education within the Ghanaian school system, my research has led me onto an eye-opening route. Having a background in visual arts and majoring in architecture, I have always found a passion for creativity. Art is a universal language; the form is a leeway for alternative expression. Incorporating a form of art into a curriculum is vital in a student’s academic career. It helps students find an outlet for freedom of expression as well as utilize different forms of thought and learning skills. I have been focusing on all levels of academia from lower primary school through the tertiary level visiting a handful of schools throughout the Central Region and speaking with headmasters, professors and students. Their interviews have allowed me to not only gain knowledge on their outlook and position on the arts but also share a common passion for the arts. My most gratifying interviews have been the unexpected ones I come about casually on the streets of Ghana with young individuals who have successfully taken their creative skills into the work force as working artists. To be able to physically see their work and techniques obtained through exposure to creative arts throughout their school years provides a reassuring feeling that the incorporation of art education into the curriculum has its advantages. 

Overall I am happy with the information I have gathered for my research. Being able to research something that I am passionate about makes the whole process extremely rewarding.

Besides researching, the whole experience of Blue Kitabu has been fantastic, this I believe is solely due to the fact that the other 7 fellows have been nothing but inspiring and a joy to thrive in growth of our close friendships. I have never been so impressed by a group of such mature students with such different ideas, come together and click so harmoniously. Spending each day together may it be squeezing together on the claustrophobic tro tro, enjoying tea time at our favorite café in Cape Coast, discussing high lows around a lantern during our daily family style dinners while the electricity is out, or high up in the canopies of the Kumasi National Forest, has only been one of the most delightful experiences I have had. As these last two weeks in Ghana trickle down, I am really looking forward to making the best of each day. 

Sydney Morical: Ghana Fellows, USC

6.28.12

Abuenu visit

“Obroni! Wha a you going?” Foreigner. White person. Where are you going? The cry has trailed me for the last month every time I step to a roadside.

“Abuenu,” Donatus says, haggling the cabbie down to 5 cedi.

We are on our way to a farming community in the Central Region, about 45 minutes drive from Asuansi Farm, our home away from home.

I have spent the last slice of my life here researching sustainable agriculture—how to grow food using methods that simultaneously preserve the environment for usage by the present and future ecological community, as well as nourishes the people that grow and consume the food—specifically examining cassava and oranges. I chose these two seemingly unrelated crops because I wanted to understand the barriers to implementing sustainable methodologies within opposite ends of the agricultural spectrum. On the one hand, the locally consumed and (to the small degree that it occurs) processed cassava has received relatively little foreign aid or national development, whereas the oranges, primarily destined for intranational processing and global export, are heavily influenced by the interests of the foreign consumers. Using this case study to understand how the barriers for implementation of sustainable methodologies differ between food and export cash crops, I then extrapolate from there about how sustainable agriculture can effectively be incorporated into national food security, economic security, and ecological preservation.

Rising out of the lush forest emerges a river of rock flowing directly into the village. Getting out of the cab, everyone immediately knows we have arrived. We meander between houses that are little more than cement framings with thatch or tin roofing, navigating around chickens and goats until we come to an unremarkable house. As we arrive, Nicholas is waiting for us. What seems like infinite extended family and children are clustered around the fire where fish and rat are smoking for dinner.

From there we began our trek into the “bush”, small pathways that ultimately spit you out into the middle of cassava field. Donatus quickly begins to explain through the rain the schema for how the plots were set up. Throughout my entire experience here, Donatus has been a constant figure. As the agricultural extension officer for the Asebu district, his intimate relationships with the regional farmers, access to information sessions, and translational skills have been indispensible to my research. He and many others from the Ministry of Food and Agriculture (MOFA), University of Cape Coast, and GIZ have been so gracious with their time, often speaking with me or showing me around for hours at a time.

Today is no different. After we machete our way out of the forest, we return to the unremarkable house, where the women with dirty children beseech me to wash and towel dry my feet. The whole cassava farming group had been mustered. The field we visited was a demo plot sponsored by MOFA that they were in charge of caring for intended to teach best practices, serve as an opportunity for farmers to show their dedication to a community project, and eventually become an establish Farmer Based Organization (FBO).

All but one of the cassava farmers were women at this session. They had come from their cooking and hauling to speak to me. With avid eyes and children on their laps, they told me about how the cassava wasn’t enough to make a living, that the market was bad, and that there was no opportunity to grow other crops.

I left with a feeling that I’d felt all too often while I was here: gratitude. I didn’t come here with the impression that I was going to do some good or cause some change. I came here to listen, listen to a language that I can’t understand but to thoughts that I can and try to discern. How fortunate am I to have found so many who are quite literally trying to put food into mouths that are excited about being interviewed and willing to speak about their experiences. Gathering personal insight such as this would have been near impossible in this kind of timeframe in the US. In a land where the color of my skin often connotes money and foreigner, it is amazing to have people treat you so genuinely.

As Donatus and I waited for the impending rains and the dilapidated taxi, I voiced my concern, “I just don’t know where any of this is going. I don’t think it will make a difference.” Obroni, where are you going? Despite my predetermination that I wasn’t going to make an impact, a part of me desperately longed to be a part of this community effort to feed and preserve despite knowing that the community members were the best ones to solve their own issues.

“No, it will,” he said. “It just takes a while. But you will come back. You must.”

Patience. I suppose only by acknowledging differences and returning to become a part of the community can I slowly begin to be a part of the solution on the ground. Until then, I will be content with the personal community I’ve found for myself here and work towards similar endeavors on the ground that I stand on.

Jessica Friedmann: Ghana Fellow, USC

I’ve started writing this blog post several times, and each time have gotten distracted by one of my fellow group members, my research, or occasionally a delicious Ghanaian meal. With so many exciting things going on all the time, I’ve struggled to find time to sit down and reflect, but here goes!

First, a little bit about myself. My name is Jessie Friedmann and I am an incoming junior at USC studying Public Policy and Psychology. Both in the classroom and out, I am very interested in youth development, especially as it pertains to public health. Here in Ghana, I have been researching HIV/AIDS prevention in youth populations, primarily teenagers. In the past five weeks I have been visiting schools, talking to government officials, and interviewing non-governmental organizations with the hopes of eventually understanding what resources are available to teens through the education system, governmental medical support, and NGO outreach. To say this has been interesting would be an enormous understatement.

While I love my classes and extra-curricular activities at USC, being able to perform first-hand research about a topic that I’m passionate about has been beyond rewarding. Last week, I was fortunate enough to speak with a project manager at Planned Parenthood of Ghana about my research topic, and ended up in his office for upwards of two hours. Despite us having few similarities, we had a gripping conversation about the Ghanaian education system, HIV stigma, and girl’s empowerment. I left his office feeling not only informed, but also extremely inspired.

Inspiring is how I would describe this entire experience. From our group’s gripping dinner conversations, to meeting with Senior Secondary teachers about the importance of education, I have been in constant awe for the past five weeks. Though going back to the United States will be bittersweet, I am confident that the knowledge, memories, and possibly the mosquito bites I have acquired over the past month will stay with me forever. I am so thankful to have had this experience, and can’t wait to travel more in the future.

Jonathan Tsang: Ghana Fellow, USC

My Journey Thus Far (6/20)

After having been in the country for nearly a month, I can now collect my thoughts and present a more well-rounded view of my experience in Ghana. At first the task seemed difficult. How exactly is one supposed to feel when one is confronted with spellbinding rainforests while simultaneously witnessing the ubiquitous shanties that dot the mountainside? Or when beautiful instances of human generosity are extended against blatant acts of discrimination? Instead of settling on one grand, overarching adjective, I am of the opinion that Ghana’s story and character is yet to be decided. There is much at stake even in this coming year. Elections for a new president will take place against a backdrop of economic revival. Talk of change and of a brighter future is in the air. I think that anything less than a mixed review is disservice to the former British colony.

But I did not expect to feel that way. I came in to the Fellowship thinking that I was going to help make a difference. To be sure, I was expecting a huge learning curve and plenty of opportunities to be humiliated, but few enter into an independent research project thinking otherwise. Having taken a class about the economics of less developed countries with John Strauss at USC, I started my research into cocoa fertilizer usage with a lot of frustrations. Why aren’t the Ghanaian farmers using fertilizers? Why don’t they fix the inaccessible roads that increase transport costs? I posed these questions to district directors from the Ministry of Food and Agriculture, professors from the University of Cape Coast and consultants at non-governmental organizations. Naturally, they all gave me different answers. The farmers don’t have the financial ability to afford fertilizers, one would say, and the potholed roads are at the end of the priority list. Another would venture that farmers wanted to subvert government efforts as an act of rebellion, and that the roads were being fixed as we spoke. The myriad of responses were intriguing but exasperating as well.

On the day of my 22^nd birthday I took a trotro to Kruwa, a small farming village twenty minutes away from Nyamedom, the village neighboring our quaint Asuansi. Upon the request of the farmer group leader I had bought 54 packets of soda crackers at 9 cedis (around US$4.81). We give away presents on our birthdays, the leader says. What altruism, I thought. As the farmers snacked on my meager offering, I interviewed them one by one. How many years have you been a farmer? How big is your farm? Do you use fertilizer? Here, without the pretenses of academia, was the forefront of grassroots research. Data were the toothy grins and inquisitive smiles in front of me. The farmers welcomed my questions and thanked me for the great help I was being. I was horrified. No, thank you! I was riding a huge high.

I have more than a week left in Ghana, but I am excited to continue my research. I still have unanswered questions, but one thing is increasingly clear: people, not crunched data, are what we need to care about. I’ve never been so humbled in my life.

Natalie Sarubbi: Ghana Fellow, Rochester

Akwaaba (Hello)!

My name is Natalie Sarubbi and I am from Rochester, NY. I graduated last year with a degree in Marketing and plan to pursue my Masters in non-profit management or international development. It has been so much fun getting to know everyone from the West Coast. Our group has a very diverse set of personalities, yet we all get along so well with one another. Our nightly dinners inevitably end with us deep in discussion about various life topics and the things we feel passionate about. It is nice to be with a group of people who respect each others’ differences as well as our similarities.

Adapting to Ghana and its culture has been incredibly interesting and fun. I was surprised to find out that apparently I am the one with the weakest stomach! Luckily, my few bouts of sickness have been very short-lived and I am up and working again in no time. Asuansi farm is a beautiful place to live, but our weekend excursions have given us the opportunity to see more of Ghana and even enjoy a shower. Although I have to say that living in a place where you have to carry and fill up your own buckets of water really makes you realize how wasteful we are. Generally speaking, Ghanaians are very nice and welcoming- although we do have to fight off the occasional marriage proposal.  

I decided I wanted my research to focus on the impact Western culture has had on Ghanaian society, and more specifically, how Ghanaians feel about our culture in relation to their own. Ghana is very much a religious country (the vast majority are Christian) and plays a major role in most every family and community. Having said that, it has been interesting to read through my surveys of high school students because a large percentage of them have stated that what they do not like about our culture is our acceptance of homosexuality. Ghanaians generally seem to love Obama, but since his recent decision to support gay marriage it is clear that it has become a hot topic amongst a culture that does not condone homosexuality. They do, however, tend to like our entertainment and generally find Americans to be friendly and helpful people. So far the biggest surprise in my research has been that if given a significant amount of money, the vast majority would spend it on their education; not cars, clothes, and other things we might expect many people in the U.S. to spend it on.

I can’t believe we have less than two weeks left already! I really have no idea where the time went. Probably mostly due to the fact that almost no one here owns a watch or goes by any set schedule- contrary to our way of life back home. I wish I had more time to spend here, but I am excited to make the most out of the time we have left and am grateful for the time I have had. So far my experience has been wonderful, and I have no doubt that it will continue to be.

Megan Horowitz: Ghana Fellow, USC

It is June 12th, and I can’t believe I’ve already spent over two weeks in this beautiful country. It is truly a world away from everything I am accustomed to, yet it has been one of the most eye-opening and defining experiences of my life. I could write for days about my experiences so far, but here a few tidbits from my life in Ghana so far:

5/29/12

A few things I will never take for granted after today…some obvious, some not so much:
 • Showers
• Flush-able toilets
• Water from the tap (or any other source other than a bag)
• Fresh air
• Non-corrupt police

Today has been the first of many adventures in Ghana. We woke up this morning to a beautiful view of the ocean and a delicious breakfast cooked by the women at the Rising Phoenix. Their kitchen is very small, so they brought one meal out a time, but the food was delicious. The drive through Accra was unlike anything I have experienced before. The city is one of extreme poverty with trash-filled streets, reckless drivers, and tiny shack dwellings packed together. While we sat in traffic, listening to the sounds of constant horns, venders were crowding at our windows with bags of water, candy, and other strange food items. It was definitely a strange experience, but then again, I’m sure a van full of Americans isn’t something they see everyday either. When we finally got out of the city, we were met with fresh air and lush greenery on either side of the road. After getting settled at Asuansi, we took a walk into the nearest town, called Yamadam, to buy some bread, fruit, and nuts to have at the house. The kids were just getting out of school, and most were astonished to see white people in their village. Everyone was extremely friendly though, and I definitely felt more at ease than in Accra. The town is tiny and also extremely poor, but the people seem genuinely happy. It was such a breath of fresh air from the often materialistic US.

6/1/12

The past two days have been extremely productive on the research front! After a quick bucket shower and breakfast, we headed to Yamadam to catch a Tro Tro to the district office in Abura Dunkwa. After a long wait and two Indiana Jones style rides, we arrived in Abura Dunkwa, and I was immediately taken aback by the striking district office building. It was quite a change from the tiny hut-like homes and broken down buildings that make up most of the villages, and everyone was dressed in sharp business attire. We met with the District Head of Education and each wrote up an outline our individual research for him to read. He was extremely helpful and told us to come back the next day so he could look over our summaries and figure out how to best assist us. We then headed over to the Asuansi Technical Institute, which is a little ways down the road, and it is a beautiful school. It is a three-year trade college set on a huge piece of property, and we ran into a herd of goats that were absolutely hilarious to watch. We wandered around for a while until we found the principle and asked if we could talk with him. He was also extremely helpful and told us we could come to the school anytime and he would help with whatever we needed. Although some Ghanaians seem to be irritated by the presence of Americans in their country, most are incredibly generous and show a genuine interest in our work. We met Kwe-que, a mechanical engineering professor from Cape Coast, and he was fascinating. He was very proficient in English, and he walked back to the farm with us so he could tell us about Ghana’s economic status. Once we got back, we attempted to visit the headmaster at the farm school again, but she had gone home for the day, so we spent the afternoon working on research. Lawrence gave us the key to his conference room (which has fans!), so we’ve all been sitting in there typing away.