Okay, I admit it, I've been sitting on that title for about a month.
I'm definitely having mixed feelings about leaving Ghana tomorrow: on one hand, definitely excited to be back in the US, the promised land of television, Internet, hot showers, clean(er) air and good old home-cooking, but I'm definitely really sad to be leaving this country. I've spent the last couple days bidding farewell to my contacts in Accra and to my always faithful research assistant, which was definitely a bit harder than I thought it would be. Here in Ghana, where "impersonal" Internet/e-mail communication isn't quite the norm, contacts are made via other contacts and you talk over the phone and have personal meetings. So you certainly feel a close connection, especially with people who go really far out of their way to help you. For instance, my first couple weeks here my contact from the Ports Ministry, a planning officer, basically spent the whole day with me at Tema just getting me oriented and introduced to everyone. And there are literally a dozen people who have been just that helpful and friendly towards me.
I've spent a good part of the last couple of days just walking around campus, which currently is looking quite spiffy as the students are arriving. Buildings, sidewalks, walls have all been repainted a shiny white, the guards have crisp blue-yellow uniforms and traffic actually doesn't try to run you over any more. Even the market across from the hostel is getting a new paint job. August is also the coolest month in Ghana---say around 70-80F---so that has definitely made things much more pleasant. Despite the numerous logistical hassles along the way, I'm actually going to miss Legon a bit. I guess it kind of grows on you.
Before I left the US, my advisor had me read Fieldwork in Developing Countries, which in my opinion is indispensable for anyone doing research in Africa. This book mentions, and my advisor confirms, that after spending time in the field, you sort of expect everything to be the same when you return home. Normal schedule, familiar faces, a sense of routine. Supposedly that's not the case. I guess it'll be kind of weird not to haggle with taxi drivers, wait 2 hours for a crowded, sweaty minibus, or have to use hand sanitizer every hour. At the same time, the pace of life will be much quicker, as things tend to have a hard time overcoming inertia in Ghana.
But I've learned so much just being here for two months. Just seeing the level of poverty and yet the sense of hope that "Ghana is moving forward" (NPP political slogan) has been very enlightening for me. This is a country that is in its Fourth Republic, having experienced several military coups, countless attempted coups, ethnic bloodshed and severe economic hardship, but is only now getting its feet wet with democracy. Most Ghanaians I've talked with believe in democracy and are willing to wait in line for 12 hours to get registered to vote. (Sadly logistics has not moved at the same pace...). That certainly says something about a country. Contrary to popular belief, people here try to be politically informed, they want to know the issues and they are moving past just voting for the candidate from this or that religion or ethnic group or even party background. They even follow American politics closely--not just Barack Obama, who is wildly popular in Africa, but they even follow McCain's policies and speeches. Ghanaians understand the importance of being part of a global system and the pivotal role the US plays. Whenever they find out I'm from the US, the following questions revolve around US politics. They look at countries like the US, UK, Germany and they want the freedoms we have, our lifestyle, our values. Very few people want a return to authoritarian rule, even if democracy is still plagued with corruption and, to some extent, tribalism. The system (which also includes civil society, the media, etc.) isn't perfect, but it's getting better. I can only hope that the December elections go well.
I hope to return to Ghana in a few years, whether for research or just for holiday. This is a beautiful country with amazing people. Despite the poverty, parents do anything they can to send their children to school. That includes selling sachet water to passing traffic amongst other goods, but people here, unlike in many other African countries, believe that hard work and entrepreneurship actually pays off. This is something that even crosses tribal lines: I was just in Kumasi and it turns out the Ashanti king has sponsored an education fund for talented students from any background, any region. That means talented students, who don't have to be Ashanti, can travel to the UK or the US to study, no matter what their economic position.
It's stuff like that that makes me think that Ghana has a good chance of being an African leader and maintaining that position. It's difficult coming from a country like the US and understanding how people here put up with the daily troubles. But they know that they want peace, stability and accountability and many forces are in motion to ensure that that happens. Honestly, it's just the "spirit" of the local people that's moved me the most in the past 2 months. My thesis will be measured by the things I could survey and quantify. But my experiences here will be measured by the things I could not.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Not much going on...
Last few days have been relatively uneventful. Got back from Kumasi on Friday afternoon after spending basically the whole day on a bus with screaming Nigerian movies. That's one thing I won't miss ... Anyways, a bunch of international students who will be studying at Legon in the fall are moving into the hostel, and I was lucky enough to meet several of them. Oh, I remember being a Ghana newbie...
Yesterday I had lunch at Chez Afrique, which is a fairly new pan-African kind of restaurant out in East Legon. Had some classic Ghanaian chicken with fried plantains and red-red (a concoction of beans and rice in a spicy tomato sauce) that was very tasty. Really need to get some more Ghanaian food in before Thursday.
Today (Sunday) has been predictably slow since the entire country basically goes to church. For the whole day. However, I was able to see part of the voters' registration going on at Legon. Ghana is having national elections this December for the 5th time since the start of the Fourth Republic in the early 1990s, and, despite having a fairly good record, still has its share of growing pains. Voter registration being the most major one.
I saw a story on the Ghana Broadcasting Channel a few days ago about people who had waited 16 hours in line because the camera taking the photos for the voter ID cards had run out of battery. So it had to be charged. But then power went out in the district. So the Electoral Commission (which is already of questionable competence to put it lightly) people went to get a generator. But they forgot the petrol. So had to fetch that. By which time it was 5pm. Time to go home for the officials! Of the 100 people queued that day I think 30 might have been processed. The people left decided to stay the night and try their chances the next morning. Now that's what I call commitment to democratic process. To my American readers (which is almost all of you), do vote this November. You would not believe what people will go through here in Ghana (i.e. no food or sleep for the whole day) just to have the chance to vote, even though they know that one vote is inconsequential.
I just sent off an application for data to the Centre for Democratic Development which would really help my thesis. This is my final week in Accra, and I've got one final meeting tomorrow at the Trade Unions Congress but then I'll be bidding farewell to my friends at the Ministries and around Legon. I think, above all, that'll be one of the hardest parts about leaving Ghana. Doing research here has been surprisingly easy, and making contacts went much more smoothly than I had anticipated. Everyone is just so connected either through family connection or friendship or something else. Definitely one of the things I like most about Ghana.
But I'll certainly be glad to get home and watch the Olympics. I am counting down the days to departure in terms of the number of cold showers left (3). I was also just reading about (SPOILER ALERT) Michael Phelps's gold and world record, which is not quite the same as actually watching it. That guy is insane ...
Yesterday I had lunch at Chez Afrique, which is a fairly new pan-African kind of restaurant out in East Legon. Had some classic Ghanaian chicken with fried plantains and red-red (a concoction of beans and rice in a spicy tomato sauce) that was very tasty. Really need to get some more Ghanaian food in before Thursday.
Today (Sunday) has been predictably slow since the entire country basically goes to church. For the whole day. However, I was able to see part of the voters' registration going on at Legon. Ghana is having national elections this December for the 5th time since the start of the Fourth Republic in the early 1990s, and, despite having a fairly good record, still has its share of growing pains. Voter registration being the most major one.
I saw a story on the Ghana Broadcasting Channel a few days ago about people who had waited 16 hours in line because the camera taking the photos for the voter ID cards had run out of battery. So it had to be charged. But then power went out in the district. So the Electoral Commission (which is already of questionable competence to put it lightly) people went to get a generator. But they forgot the petrol. So had to fetch that. By which time it was 5pm. Time to go home for the officials! Of the 100 people queued that day I think 30 might have been processed. The people left decided to stay the night and try their chances the next morning. Now that's what I call commitment to democratic process. To my American readers (which is almost all of you), do vote this November. You would not believe what people will go through here in Ghana (i.e. no food or sleep for the whole day) just to have the chance to vote, even though they know that one vote is inconsequential.
I just sent off an application for data to the Centre for Democratic Development which would really help my thesis. This is my final week in Accra, and I've got one final meeting tomorrow at the Trade Unions Congress but then I'll be bidding farewell to my friends at the Ministries and around Legon. I think, above all, that'll be one of the hardest parts about leaving Ghana. Doing research here has been surprisingly easy, and making contacts went much more smoothly than I had anticipated. Everyone is just so connected either through family connection or friendship or something else. Definitely one of the things I like most about Ghana.
But I'll certainly be glad to get home and watch the Olympics. I am counting down the days to departure in terms of the number of cold showers left (3). I was also just reading about (SPOILER ALERT) Michael Phelps's gold and world record, which is not quite the same as actually watching it. That guy is insane ...
Thursday, August 7, 2008
A Hot Mess Indeed
Today was ridiculously busy for me. I decided to be ambitious and get the Manhyia Palace (home of the Ashanti king), Kejetia Market and the Armed Forces Museum in, in addition to more souvenir shopping.
First stop was Kejetia Market, which is reputedly West Africa's largest market. 'Insane' doesn't even begin to describe this place. It is about 12 hectares in area and has more than 10,000 trading stalls, selling goods ranging from fish to dishwashers to fake football jerseys. You know those pretty garden mazes with the 12ft grass walls out in like the midlands of England? Imagine that the garden is 50x bigger. And instead of lovely, manicured walls you have dilapidated shacks with corrugated rust roofs. And there are 50,000 people sweating it out with you, clamoring for goods every which way. I ran into a couple of Peace Corps volunteers who asked me what the market was like. All I could tell them: overwhelming.
One could easily get lost in there. Unlike the market in Takoradi or in Accra, you really can't see above the stalls. And there was a point where I was basically trapped for about a minute in this sea of people that wasn't really going anywhere. Never smelled so much of Africa before. But despite the craziness of this market, it actually does have some order to it. The clothing and textile stalls are in basically the same place, the food sellers (I failed in my attempt to avoid the fish market--possibly the worst smelling place ever) are in the western part and bead sellers are all together. And prices actually seem quite standardized between stalls. Oh, the market economy. I was able to snap some pics from the high ground, but I think the fact that I didn't get robbed of my camera and backpack was more of a "triumph of luck over judgment", in the words of the Bradt Guide. The Peace Corps volunteers I talked with had just been robbed in a taxi of their phones and cameras. In broad daylight. :(
Manhyia Palace was definitely cool, and I certainly learned a lot about Ashanti history and what not. The Armed Forces museum was quite entertaining, and I got lots of pics of rather out-of-place looking British colonial officers of the 1900s. Cool uniforms, though. I'd write more, but must conserve internet cafe time.
I had lunch again at Vic Baboo's, which I discovered is part of the Baboo Bazaar. I got bored so I thought of some slogans:
Don't feel blue at Vic Baboo's.
Use the loo at Vic Baboo's.
I pity the foo' who don't go to Vic Baboo.
Ah, it's such a good place. Maybe they can expand to America or something. Tomorrow I'm returning to Legon to wrap up my time in Ghana. Home in a week!
First stop was Kejetia Market, which is reputedly West Africa's largest market. 'Insane' doesn't even begin to describe this place. It is about 12 hectares in area and has more than 10,000 trading stalls, selling goods ranging from fish to dishwashers to fake football jerseys. You know those pretty garden mazes with the 12ft grass walls out in like the midlands of England? Imagine that the garden is 50x bigger. And instead of lovely, manicured walls you have dilapidated shacks with corrugated rust roofs. And there are 50,000 people sweating it out with you, clamoring for goods every which way. I ran into a couple of Peace Corps volunteers who asked me what the market was like. All I could tell them: overwhelming.
One could easily get lost in there. Unlike the market in Takoradi or in Accra, you really can't see above the stalls. And there was a point where I was basically trapped for about a minute in this sea of people that wasn't really going anywhere. Never smelled so much of Africa before. But despite the craziness of this market, it actually does have some order to it. The clothing and textile stalls are in basically the same place, the food sellers (I failed in my attempt to avoid the fish market--possibly the worst smelling place ever) are in the western part and bead sellers are all together. And prices actually seem quite standardized between stalls. Oh, the market economy. I was able to snap some pics from the high ground, but I think the fact that I didn't get robbed of my camera and backpack was more of a "triumph of luck over judgment", in the words of the Bradt Guide. The Peace Corps volunteers I talked with had just been robbed in a taxi of their phones and cameras. In broad daylight. :(
Manhyia Palace was definitely cool, and I certainly learned a lot about Ashanti history and what not. The Armed Forces museum was quite entertaining, and I got lots of pics of rather out-of-place looking British colonial officers of the 1900s. Cool uniforms, though. I'd write more, but must conserve internet cafe time.
I had lunch again at Vic Baboo's, which I discovered is part of the Baboo Bazaar. I got bored so I thought of some slogans:
Don't feel blue at Vic Baboo's.
Use the loo at Vic Baboo's.
I pity the foo' who don't go to Vic Baboo.
Ah, it's such a good place. Maybe they can expand to America or something. Tomorrow I'm returning to Legon to wrap up my time in Ghana. Home in a week!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Thank you for shopping at the Kumasi Kwik-E-Mart
Hello from Kumasi--Ghana's 'second city' and the heart of Ashanti! I am here until Friday, and have been having an amazing time so far.
Quick recap:
I spent basically all of yesterday on a bus for what should have been a 4-hour ride. Ended up being 8. Didn't help that I also didn't get to leave until 3 hrs after I'd planned on. Yayyy for Ghanaian traffic! The two days before had basically been logistical nightmares, but I was lucky to be sitting next to this really nice high-school kid who was fascinated by the US and Harvard, so I was glad to make a new friend. Plus he bought me lunch. And just like that my faith in Ghanaian hospitality was restored.
The bus ride was so absurd that this one guy in the back started cursing out the driver. He just couldn't believe why we were approaching hour 6 of a 4-hour ride. Clearly he was not from around Ghana ... Yeah, delays are definitely a fact of daily life.
Anyways, I got to my hotel around 8.30pm, exhausted and starving. My room is basically a cottage, which was probably built during the British Empire. It's got everything you'd expect: the peeling imperial floor tiling, peeling yellow paint, a rickety ceiling fan (no AC), lighting is a lone lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and it smells of ... I dunno, colonial authority? The Bradt Guide describes the hotel as 'venerable'. Indeed. It is an experience.
I'll be spending two full days in Kumasi, and today was the first. I journeyed up to the National Cultural Centre in the morning, and it is decidedly less hassle than the one in Accra, though you still had your fair share of aggressive artists and hangers-on. I saw quite a few artifacts of Ashanti history, including the fake Golden Stool given to the Brits by the Ashantis, authentic royal kente cloth and the staffs/swords of office of the Ashtanti king. Very cool stuff.
I also did quite a bit of shopping at the Cultural Centre, and picked up a sweet drum (we are so gonna drive the neighbors crazy next year), an oil painting, two Ashanti masks and various other trinkets. Quite the haul.
On another note, today I had lunch at the fabled Vic Baboo's cafe, which is basically like an embassy of South Asian culinary heaven nestled in the middle of West Africa. Saw quite a few of South Asians there, rubbing shoulders with the Brits and other conspicuous non-Ghanaians. Ironically, I'd also been craving samosas, but sadly there were none. But the menu was the most extensive I'd ever seen--literally hundreds of dishes, ranging from continental to Indian to Chinese. Of course, I got the margherita pizza (VEGETABLES I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH), and it was delicious. Probably the best meal I've had in Ghana.
Okay, gotta cut this short as it's getting dark and I need to get back to the hotel.
Thank you, come again.
Quick recap:
I spent basically all of yesterday on a bus for what should have been a 4-hour ride. Ended up being 8. Didn't help that I also didn't get to leave until 3 hrs after I'd planned on. Yayyy for Ghanaian traffic! The two days before had basically been logistical nightmares, but I was lucky to be sitting next to this really nice high-school kid who was fascinated by the US and Harvard, so I was glad to make a new friend. Plus he bought me lunch. And just like that my faith in Ghanaian hospitality was restored.
The bus ride was so absurd that this one guy in the back started cursing out the driver. He just couldn't believe why we were approaching hour 6 of a 4-hour ride. Clearly he was not from around Ghana ... Yeah, delays are definitely a fact of daily life.
Anyways, I got to my hotel around 8.30pm, exhausted and starving. My room is basically a cottage, which was probably built during the British Empire. It's got everything you'd expect: the peeling imperial floor tiling, peeling yellow paint, a rickety ceiling fan (no AC), lighting is a lone lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and it smells of ... I dunno, colonial authority? The Bradt Guide describes the hotel as 'venerable'. Indeed. It is an experience.
I'll be spending two full days in Kumasi, and today was the first. I journeyed up to the National Cultural Centre in the morning, and it is decidedly less hassle than the one in Accra, though you still had your fair share of aggressive artists and hangers-on. I saw quite a few artifacts of Ashanti history, including the fake Golden Stool given to the Brits by the Ashantis, authentic royal kente cloth and the staffs/swords of office of the Ashtanti king. Very cool stuff.
I also did quite a bit of shopping at the Cultural Centre, and picked up a sweet drum (we are so gonna drive the neighbors crazy next year), an oil painting, two Ashanti masks and various other trinkets. Quite the haul.
On another note, today I had lunch at the fabled Vic Baboo's cafe, which is basically like an embassy of South Asian culinary heaven nestled in the middle of West Africa. Saw quite a few of South Asians there, rubbing shoulders with the Brits and other conspicuous non-Ghanaians. Ironically, I'd also been craving samosas, but sadly there were none. But the menu was the most extensive I'd ever seen--literally hundreds of dishes, ranging from continental to Indian to Chinese. Of course, I got the margherita pizza (VEGETABLES I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH), and it was delicious. Probably the best meal I've had in Ghana.
Okay, gotta cut this short as it's getting dark and I need to get back to the hotel.
Thank you, come again.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Don't Rock the Botel
Today was definitely one of my more interesting days in Ghana.
The day started off nice and early--my alarm going at 5.30am to be exact--as we needed to reach Kakum before 8am to avoid large touristy crowds. Luckily, Phillip Briggs, the author of the Bradt Guide to Ghana, was correct about the tro-tro locations in Cape Coast, and we were able to find a tro-tro to Kakum without too much hassle. Of course, it took this tro-tro almost an hour to fill up (come on, where the obrunis at?), and it actually ended up being quite overcrowded.
Which is where we learned how to avoid getting stopped by the police.
See, tro-tros can only carry a certain number of people (it's imprinted on the medallion on the side of the tro-tro). If it's overcrowded, then the driver/mate get penalized according to union (yes, these things are unionized) rules.
But of course, overcrowding still occurs, and tro-tros have co-opted other forms of transport--namely, taxis--to be their eyes and ears for police checkpoints. A symbiotic relationship, indeed.
Anyways, the Kakum tro-tro had one adult too many (the 7 or so small, wailing children don't count in the equation apparently...), so the tro-tro pulled over before the checkpoint, the mate got out and met a taxi driver who was apparently his friend, and went ahead of us. The tro-tro passed through the check easily enough, and we picked up our mate about 50m beyond. Easy as pie.
We arrived at Kakum around 8.30 or so, and things were still pretty quiet. Kakum is one of two major national parks in Ghana, the other being Mole in the north, and this one is well known for its canopy walk, which was built by USAID (yeah!) and Canadian volunteers in 1995.
The canopy walk consists of a series of seven suspension-rope wooden bridges, hanging about 40m above the rainforest floor and stretching almost 400m. It's also about 10in wide, because the bridge itself is just a wooden plank. That is cracked in some places. And quite creaky. The guide assured us it was quite safe, though I don't think she went on it with us. Typical. Oh well, I haven't heard of anyone dying on it yet.
I'm not normally afraid of heights, though let me tell you, being on a rickety wooden plank bridge, suspended by ropes, in the wind, in a misty rainforest, in the middle of West Africa really makes you start to consider your life. Yeah, I was definitely a little scared. Part of it was that there was a group of Canadian tourists behind me on the bridge who were seriously freaking out and rocking this thing around. Not cool.
But all in all, this was definitely one of my best experiences in Ghana. The rainforest canopy was absolutely serene and beautiful. Never done anything like this in my life. I've got plenty of pictures (many of which are quite hilarious), which I will upload once I get back.
Right after the canopy walk, we decided to take a coconut-juice break. Now, Phil(lip Briggs) really recommends the chopped-open young coconuts as a refreshing mid-day drink in Ghana. We came to the conclusion that this must be more of an acquired taste. It tasted like ... warm water with a hint of sugar. It looked like soapy bathwater too. Oh well. Another thing to check off the Ghana list! Also some good pictures of me with a decapitated coconut and straw.
Afterwards we tro-troed it down to the Hans Cottage Botel. The main feature of this hotel is that it has a restaurant built on stilts above a crocodile pond (get it, boat+hotel). And the food was actually pretty good, as this place caters mostly to European and American travellers. Now the crocodiles were a constant source of entertainment. First off, we ran into the acrophobic Canadians again, who were purchasing some raw chicken so they could feed a crocodile. Of course, they were instructed to tempt the crocodile from the water and up the steps so we could all get a good view, lol. All we could think of was the late Crocodile Hunter dangling his baby over these things.
A little later on, we heard quite a bit of commotion coming from the Botel staff. One of the staff was playing around with this green water snake--that is, the snake was in the water, and the dude had a long branch that he was twirling the snake around with. The waitresses were all screaming about as the snake, which was thin and about 2-3 ft long, was splashing about quite a bit. Eventually it got tired of the game and decided to swim further into the pond.
Class, please open your textbooks to Chapter 3: The Food Chain.
So the snake is kind of coolly swimming along with its head above water. About 5m away, perpendicular to the snake, we see a pair of eyes emerge. *cue Jaws music*. Everyone takes a collective gasp. Of course, the snake has absolutely no chance. The croc snaps it up in its powerful jaws, the snake makes a few feeble attempts of splashing way, but it's definitely a Ghan-ner. And that was lunch.
It took about 6hrs to get back to Accra, namely because we did it via tro-tros and it was Saturday, when schedules are reduced. Of course, we boarded the tro-tro of gastrointestinal revenge. Esther and I were sitting in the second row of the tro-tro, so in the mate's row, right behind the driver and shotgun (which seats two people). The guy in the middle of the driver's row was apparently quite ill, though he didn't appear to be. The dude sitting shotgun seemed to be somewhat important as he had a briefcase with him. The Cape Coast-Accra highway is actually quite well paved, but to control speeds, the highway is fitted out with a series of "speed bumps" (they don't slow you down that much, but they do make you more cautious around the bends), which, if you're sitting right above the wheelbase, can be quite uncomfortable after a while. Anyways, the guy in front of me definitely could not handle it and ended up hurling all over the dash, the e-brake, himself and the other dude's briefcase. Driver and mate were definitely like, "oh mannnn...". Luckily we were near a store where we could get soapy water so they were able to clean up the tro-tro in short order and we got under way again. I then decided to move my bag up to my lap instead of the floor ...
Of course, we weren't quite so lucky the second time. The guy hurled again, much to the dismay of now-twice-vomited-briefcase dude, and we had to resort to using whatever newspaper was on the tro-tro. I also gave the mate my emergency backpack supply of sanitary wipes (because you never know ...), which kind of helped the situation a bit. He gave me the "this is a bit ridiculous" look. Yeahhhh. I figure of all the tro-troing I do in Ghana, someone is bound to get sick on one of them eventually. Just hopefully it's not me.
We got back to Accra around 4pm and boarded another tro-tro, headed for Madina, at Kaneshie Market. It took almost 2 hours to get back to Legon ... ahhhh. It's not that there was even traffic. The traffic lights in Accra are the most poorly designed I have ever seen. They are green for about 3 seconds, then amber, then red. This is for the main thoroughfare! Of course, the side streets stay green for a full minute--allowing all 2 cars waiting to pass with plenty of time to spare. I don't even understand. I wonder if the street hawkers rigged the lights so that more cars would be stopped so they could sell their goods. That'd actually be pretty smart...
11 more days in Ghana. Today I fantasized about having random American food. Like Cocoa Puffs. And tacos. And Velveeta cheese. Maybe not all together.
The day started off nice and early--my alarm going at 5.30am to be exact--as we needed to reach Kakum before 8am to avoid large touristy crowds. Luckily, Phillip Briggs, the author of the Bradt Guide to Ghana, was correct about the tro-tro locations in Cape Coast, and we were able to find a tro-tro to Kakum without too much hassle. Of course, it took this tro-tro almost an hour to fill up (come on, where the obrunis at?), and it actually ended up being quite overcrowded.
Which is where we learned how to avoid getting stopped by the police.
See, tro-tros can only carry a certain number of people (it's imprinted on the medallion on the side of the tro-tro). If it's overcrowded, then the driver/mate get penalized according to union (yes, these things are unionized) rules.
But of course, overcrowding still occurs, and tro-tros have co-opted other forms of transport--namely, taxis--to be their eyes and ears for police checkpoints. A symbiotic relationship, indeed.
Anyways, the Kakum tro-tro had one adult too many (the 7 or so small, wailing children don't count in the equation apparently...), so the tro-tro pulled over before the checkpoint, the mate got out and met a taxi driver who was apparently his friend, and went ahead of us. The tro-tro passed through the check easily enough, and we picked up our mate about 50m beyond. Easy as pie.
We arrived at Kakum around 8.30 or so, and things were still pretty quiet. Kakum is one of two major national parks in Ghana, the other being Mole in the north, and this one is well known for its canopy walk, which was built by USAID (yeah!) and Canadian volunteers in 1995.
The canopy walk consists of a series of seven suspension-rope wooden bridges, hanging about 40m above the rainforest floor and stretching almost 400m. It's also about 10in wide, because the bridge itself is just a wooden plank. That is cracked in some places. And quite creaky. The guide assured us it was quite safe, though I don't think she went on it with us. Typical. Oh well, I haven't heard of anyone dying on it yet.
I'm not normally afraid of heights, though let me tell you, being on a rickety wooden plank bridge, suspended by ropes, in the wind, in a misty rainforest, in the middle of West Africa really makes you start to consider your life. Yeah, I was definitely a little scared. Part of it was that there was a group of Canadian tourists behind me on the bridge who were seriously freaking out and rocking this thing around. Not cool.
But all in all, this was definitely one of my best experiences in Ghana. The rainforest canopy was absolutely serene and beautiful. Never done anything like this in my life. I've got plenty of pictures (many of which are quite hilarious), which I will upload once I get back.
Right after the canopy walk, we decided to take a coconut-juice break. Now, Phil(lip Briggs) really recommends the chopped-open young coconuts as a refreshing mid-day drink in Ghana. We came to the conclusion that this must be more of an acquired taste. It tasted like ... warm water with a hint of sugar. It looked like soapy bathwater too. Oh well. Another thing to check off the Ghana list! Also some good pictures of me with a decapitated coconut and straw.
Afterwards we tro-troed it down to the Hans Cottage Botel. The main feature of this hotel is that it has a restaurant built on stilts above a crocodile pond (get it, boat+hotel). And the food was actually pretty good, as this place caters mostly to European and American travellers. Now the crocodiles were a constant source of entertainment. First off, we ran into the acrophobic Canadians again, who were purchasing some raw chicken so they could feed a crocodile. Of course, they were instructed to tempt the crocodile from the water and up the steps so we could all get a good view, lol. All we could think of was the late Crocodile Hunter dangling his baby over these things.
A little later on, we heard quite a bit of commotion coming from the Botel staff. One of the staff was playing around with this green water snake--that is, the snake was in the water, and the dude had a long branch that he was twirling the snake around with. The waitresses were all screaming about as the snake, which was thin and about 2-3 ft long, was splashing about quite a bit. Eventually it got tired of the game and decided to swim further into the pond.
Class, please open your textbooks to Chapter 3: The Food Chain.
So the snake is kind of coolly swimming along with its head above water. About 5m away, perpendicular to the snake, we see a pair of eyes emerge. *cue Jaws music*. Everyone takes a collective gasp. Of course, the snake has absolutely no chance. The croc snaps it up in its powerful jaws, the snake makes a few feeble attempts of splashing way, but it's definitely a Ghan-ner. And that was lunch.
It took about 6hrs to get back to Accra, namely because we did it via tro-tros and it was Saturday, when schedules are reduced. Of course, we boarded the tro-tro of gastrointestinal revenge. Esther and I were sitting in the second row of the tro-tro, so in the mate's row, right behind the driver and shotgun (which seats two people). The guy in the middle of the driver's row was apparently quite ill, though he didn't appear to be. The dude sitting shotgun seemed to be somewhat important as he had a briefcase with him. The Cape Coast-Accra highway is actually quite well paved, but to control speeds, the highway is fitted out with a series of "speed bumps" (they don't slow you down that much, but they do make you more cautious around the bends), which, if you're sitting right above the wheelbase, can be quite uncomfortable after a while. Anyways, the guy in front of me definitely could not handle it and ended up hurling all over the dash, the e-brake, himself and the other dude's briefcase. Driver and mate were definitely like, "oh mannnn...". Luckily we were near a store where we could get soapy water so they were able to clean up the tro-tro in short order and we got under way again. I then decided to move my bag up to my lap instead of the floor ...
Of course, we weren't quite so lucky the second time. The guy hurled again, much to the dismay of now-twice-vomited-briefcase dude, and we had to resort to using whatever newspaper was on the tro-tro. I also gave the mate my emergency backpack supply of sanitary wipes (because you never know ...), which kind of helped the situation a bit. He gave me the "this is a bit ridiculous" look. Yeahhhh. I figure of all the tro-troing I do in Ghana, someone is bound to get sick on one of them eventually. Just hopefully it's not me.
We got back to Accra around 4pm and boarded another tro-tro, headed for Madina, at Kaneshie Market. It took almost 2 hours to get back to Legon ... ahhhh. It's not that there was even traffic. The traffic lights in Accra are the most poorly designed I have ever seen. They are green for about 3 seconds, then amber, then red. This is for the main thoroughfare! Of course, the side streets stay green for a full minute--allowing all 2 cars waiting to pass with plenty of time to spare. I don't even understand. I wonder if the street hawkers rigged the lights so that more cars would be stopped so they could sell their goods. That'd actually be pretty smart...
11 more days in Ghana. Today I fantasized about having random American food. Like Cocoa Puffs. And tacos. And Velveeta cheese. Maybe not all together.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Off to Kakum!
Esther and I are off to Cape Coast to see Kakum National Park this weekend, home to Africa's one and only, death-defying canopy walk! Seven bridges, 400m long, 40m above the rainforest floor, one wooden plank wide and a complex system of ropes. It's Ghana be a hot one.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Public Health Advisory
So the past few days have been a bit crazy, and as usual I'm running out of time at the cafe so this post won't do very much justice.
Saturday morning the power went out. Saturday afternoon we lost the running water. Saturday evening 60 students from the University of California system inundated our hostel. *cue torrential rain and thunder* Sunday morning the cholera refugees arrived. And that's what we call the Great Public Health Clusterf*** of 2008.
That was ... fun. I suppose I could complain more, but then again we have been very fortunate this summer seeing how most of the country is poorly--if at all--electrified. And last year blackouts were a daily occurrence in Accra. Maybe the power's been on more this year because it's an election year? Certainly a possibility ...
Today I had my first experience of being in an African hospital.
The good news: I don't have hepatitis E.
The bad news: Yet.
Actually I probably have just been having a reaction to the very spicy Ghanaian food, which is often fried. Yeahhhh. Gonna be chicken and rice for a few days. I'd seen the in-house hospital in the Port of Takoradi, which was comparatively nice (by regional standards), so I expected the University Hospital to be fairly similar.
It was ... interesting.
First off, "queuing" was not particularly respected at this hospital. If your shoulder wasn't in front of the other dude's shoulder, you weren't moving. The past few days have been a bit tough on the Harvard group when it comes to social etiquette (yay obruni treatment). This one guy tried to cut in front of three of us, at which point I firmly informed him, "Excuse me, sir, but we are in the queue." (read: Get your ass to the back of the line. Now.) He complied. *victory dance*
Anyways, there weren't traditional wings/wards like you see in an American hospital. I was only in the outpatient area, but it seemed like a total mess. There were people writhing in pain on benches and what not, and only a handful of doctors/nurses. I definitely had to wait about 3 hrs for my consultation, and I'm pretty sure a few people bribed their way to the front of the line.
The lab facilities were also rather dodgy. Basically two really frazzled looking guys in a dim, unventilated room. They actually had sterile-looking equipment, but the environment was pretty dirty. Not to mention patients/staff were just walking in and out of the area.
The maternity ward (basically just an open space) was full on with crying and wailing, and I think there was only 1 nurse on duty for about 40 babies and their mothers. It was pretty sad. Though I did get to make friends with a few babies who were fascinated with the obruni/asian dude.
Two more weeks in Ghana. Just don't get malaria.
Saturday morning the power went out. Saturday afternoon we lost the running water. Saturday evening 60 students from the University of California system inundated our hostel. *cue torrential rain and thunder* Sunday morning the cholera refugees arrived. And that's what we call the Great Public Health Clusterf*** of 2008.
That was ... fun. I suppose I could complain more, but then again we have been very fortunate this summer seeing how most of the country is poorly--if at all--electrified. And last year blackouts were a daily occurrence in Accra. Maybe the power's been on more this year because it's an election year? Certainly a possibility ...
Today I had my first experience of being in an African hospital.
The good news: I don't have hepatitis E.
The bad news: Yet.
Actually I probably have just been having a reaction to the very spicy Ghanaian food, which is often fried. Yeahhhh. Gonna be chicken and rice for a few days. I'd seen the in-house hospital in the Port of Takoradi, which was comparatively nice (by regional standards), so I expected the University Hospital to be fairly similar.
It was ... interesting.
First off, "queuing" was not particularly respected at this hospital. If your shoulder wasn't in front of the other dude's shoulder, you weren't moving. The past few days have been a bit tough on the Harvard group when it comes to social etiquette (yay obruni treatment). This one guy tried to cut in front of three of us, at which point I firmly informed him, "Excuse me, sir, but we are in the queue." (read: Get your ass to the back of the line. Now.) He complied. *victory dance*
Anyways, there weren't traditional wings/wards like you see in an American hospital. I was only in the outpatient area, but it seemed like a total mess. There were people writhing in pain on benches and what not, and only a handful of doctors/nurses. I definitely had to wait about 3 hrs for my consultation, and I'm pretty sure a few people bribed their way to the front of the line.
The lab facilities were also rather dodgy. Basically two really frazzled looking guys in a dim, unventilated room. They actually had sterile-looking equipment, but the environment was pretty dirty. Not to mention patients/staff were just walking in and out of the area.
The maternity ward (basically just an open space) was full on with crying and wailing, and I think there was only 1 nurse on duty for about 40 babies and their mothers. It was pretty sad. Though I did get to make friends with a few babies who were fascinated with the obruni/asian dude.
Two more weeks in Ghana. Just don't get malaria.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Now that's what I call an express lane
Today was fairly productive, as I was able to set up appointments with a sociology professor and arrange to go to the Statistical Service to pick up some reports from the previous census. Two birds with one phone. Sadly much of the stuff at the Statistical Service is hard-copy or non-existent, so I'll have to figure something out.
I also had my first tro-tro rides today in 2 weeks, since most things in Takoradi were walking distance or not accessible by tro-tro (i.e. the port area). As always, the tro-tro ride was an adventure/near-death experience. I happened to catch the tro-tro from Accra back to Legon during the afternoon rush hour, which also happens to be shopping time for many Ghanaians.
This is Wal-Mart: West African style.
Because of the rush-hour traffic, the hawkers are out in force. Today I saw someone in my tro-tro buy a 12-pack of toilet paper (it was 4 3-packs) from a guy who was carrying probably 144 rolls on him. Of course, payment is always a tricky issue when you're buying from a moving passenger van (or excuse for a van). And this lady had only a 5-cedi note. Now in Ghana, when you don't have close-enough change, it's your fault. The vendors get mad. And toilet-paper man was pissed. Most vendors don't like making too much change (come on, guys, it's not Zimbabwe), but this guy obliged, which involved digging through his pockets while chasing after our tro-tro. When a street vendor is really in trouble, they have to drop their stuff in the middle of the road and sprint after the tro-tro. If they don't catch up, that's too bad. But this dude was rather swift, and was able to make change after about a kilometer.
No such thing as free toilet paper.
There was also a mother and young baby seated in front of me, and they were able to buy a rattle during the ride. You can also get all sorts of food: dried plantains, Ghanaian chocolate bars (soooooo good), virility-enhancing peanuts and frozen yoghurt of questionable mettle. I'm pretty sure you can also get a whole cowboy outfit in just one trip into Accra. I've seen leather wallets, belts and cowboy hats (with US flag pins, huzzah!) being sold to passing cars. Yeehaw.
I also had my first tro-tro rides today in 2 weeks, since most things in Takoradi were walking distance or not accessible by tro-tro (i.e. the port area). As always, the tro-tro ride was an adventure/near-death experience. I happened to catch the tro-tro from Accra back to Legon during the afternoon rush hour, which also happens to be shopping time for many Ghanaians.
This is Wal-Mart: West African style.
Because of the rush-hour traffic, the hawkers are out in force. Today I saw someone in my tro-tro buy a 12-pack of toilet paper (it was 4 3-packs) from a guy who was carrying probably 144 rolls on him. Of course, payment is always a tricky issue when you're buying from a moving passenger van (or excuse for a van). And this lady had only a 5-cedi note. Now in Ghana, when you don't have close-enough change, it's your fault. The vendors get mad. And toilet-paper man was pissed. Most vendors don't like making too much change (come on, guys, it's not Zimbabwe), but this guy obliged, which involved digging through his pockets while chasing after our tro-tro. When a street vendor is really in trouble, they have to drop their stuff in the middle of the road and sprint after the tro-tro. If they don't catch up, that's too bad. But this dude was rather swift, and was able to make change after about a kilometer.
No such thing as free toilet paper.
There was also a mother and young baby seated in front of me, and they were able to buy a rattle during the ride. You can also get all sorts of food: dried plantains, Ghanaian chocolate bars (soooooo good), virility-enhancing peanuts and frozen yoghurt of questionable mettle. I'm pretty sure you can also get a whole cowboy outfit in just one trip into Accra. I've seen leather wallets, belts and cowboy hats (with US flag pins, huzzah!) being sold to passing cars. Yeehaw.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
It was straight out of a Nigerian film
So I'm briefly back in the Internet cafe. I was able to secure an appointment with CDD tomorrow, thus necessitating the further copying of my introduction letters, but surprise surprise the copier guy is not around. Looks like I'll be wandering around campus some more.
Anyways, that alone does not warrant a new post so soon after the most recent one. On my way back to the cafe I ran into a bit of a West African brouhaha starring a Ghanaian woman and her Nigerian counterpart. Now, having been in Ghana for about 5 weeks, I get the feeling that a lot of Ghanaians resent Nigerians, accusing them of bringing drugs and crime into the country, partly because of the influence of Nigerian movies.
Anyways, I come across these two women screaming at each other in the parking lot, the Ghanaian one accusing the Nigerian woman of stealing her wallet amongst other things, all in some rather "colourful" language. There are a couple other guys nearby. The Ghanaian woman starts calling over the security guards from the hostel, who are a bit slow to respond to the escalating situation, at which the point the Nigerian woman charges at her and attacks. Lots of screaming involved, just like in the movies, as well as general pulling of hair and punching. It was insane.
Us guys kind of look at each other for a second (i.e. "wtf?"), and then we're able to successfully--though with a bit of hardship--separate the madly flailing pair, who then resort to spitting at each other. I wonder what Jerry Springer's Akan name would be ...
Anyways, that alone does not warrant a new post so soon after the most recent one. On my way back to the cafe I ran into a bit of a West African brouhaha starring a Ghanaian woman and her Nigerian counterpart. Now, having been in Ghana for about 5 weeks, I get the feeling that a lot of Ghanaians resent Nigerians, accusing them of bringing drugs and crime into the country, partly because of the influence of Nigerian movies.
Anyways, I come across these two women screaming at each other in the parking lot, the Ghanaian one accusing the Nigerian woman of stealing her wallet amongst other things, all in some rather "colourful" language. There are a couple other guys nearby. The Ghanaian woman starts calling over the security guards from the hostel, who are a bit slow to respond to the escalating situation, at which the point the Nigerian woman charges at her and attacks. Lots of screaming involved, just like in the movies, as well as general pulling of hair and punching. It was insane.
Us guys kind of look at each other for a second (i.e. "wtf?"), and then we're able to successfully--though with a bit of hardship--separate the madly flailing pair, who then resort to spitting at each other. I wonder what Jerry Springer's Akan name would be ...
Washers and dryers are for the WEAK
So after two weeks of doing laundry in my hotel shower (the sink was too dirty...) with its questionable water "pressure", I was more than ready to get back to Accra to have my clothes properly laundered and dried by our hotel's laundry maestro. I was also looking forward to having meals right in the hostel rather than walking through a bustling, smelly market to get to a decent restaurant--not the most fun thing to do when you're tired and disoriented.
Turns out my expectations were 0 for 2. The laundry guy was not back (and we're not allowed to do it ourselves apparently...), and the management had no idea of when he was going to return. Now I'm a pretty lenient guy, but the prospect of wearing the same underwear for 72 hours (assuming he would come back the next day...) in the West African heat and humidity was not particularly appealing. I swear I'm more hygiene-conscious in the US. But anyways I brought these handy-dandy Tide sink packets along with me, which I decided needed to be called into action.
Which first required the acquisition of a bucket. Just my luck: today it rained like no other (gotta love that mud) and the nearest place to buy a bucket, the "Bush Canteen", is about a 10 minutes' walk away. Whatever. At least my pants will get a nice wash. I think the only thing that would have made an obruni's walk through the torrential rain with a bucket more ridiculous would have been carrying the bucket on my head pretending to sell water. Maybe for another time.
Anyways, I got back to the hostel, filled up the bucket (it should have a name ... now accepting nominations) with cold water and dumped in a packet of Tide. Oh, the glorious smell of detergent. It doesn't take much to please me, apparently. Next came the strategic selection of which clothes to wash balanced against the expectation of when the laundry maestro would (if ever) return.
After about 2 weeks of handwashing, I think my left elbow is flaring up with some nice tendonitis. Lovely. See, this is something they should mention in the Africal travel-health books? Either that or I'll have dengue fever tomorrow. But the smell of Tide in my clothing (as opposed to unscented soap, which has a scent, oddly enough...) left me with quite the sense of accomplishment. I even rigged up a nice drying rack in my room! I figured, hey, if I gotta do this for the rest of the summer, so be it. Got plenty of emergency Tide packets to go around.
With my greatly inflated sense of self-pride, it was time to dump out the bucket of water. At which point I ran into the laundry maestro.
*sigh*
Anyways, today has also been the day of rather fruitless phone calls. I have feverishly been trying to contact the Centre for Democratic Development to get some Afrobarometer data from them. I have 2 of their telephone numbers, neither of which seem to have a person on the other end. It turns out they have THREE MORE telephone numbers that I can try. The expected value has got to be 1, right? Maybe the 35th time's the charm.
The other place I need to contact is the Ghana Statistical Service, which I've heard can be a bit of a headache for researchers (not least involving having to yell over the phone given the bad connections). I was discussing this with my contact at the Ports Ministry (which is right next door to GSS), and he told me that the wife of a professor in Legon that I was working with is a statistician at GSS. *cue incredible sense of relief* Definitely been really lucky with the contacts I've made.
In other news, tonight is two-for-Tuesday at the Pizza Inn. Definitely makes up for my failed laundry adventures.
Turns out my expectations were 0 for 2. The laundry guy was not back (and we're not allowed to do it ourselves apparently...), and the management had no idea of when he was going to return. Now I'm a pretty lenient guy, but the prospect of wearing the same underwear for 72 hours (assuming he would come back the next day...) in the West African heat and humidity was not particularly appealing. I swear I'm more hygiene-conscious in the US. But anyways I brought these handy-dandy Tide sink packets along with me, which I decided needed to be called into action.
Which first required the acquisition of a bucket. Just my luck: today it rained like no other (gotta love that mud) and the nearest place to buy a bucket, the "Bush Canteen", is about a 10 minutes' walk away. Whatever. At least my pants will get a nice wash. I think the only thing that would have made an obruni's walk through the torrential rain with a bucket more ridiculous would have been carrying the bucket on my head pretending to sell water. Maybe for another time.
Anyways, I got back to the hostel, filled up the bucket (it should have a name ... now accepting nominations) with cold water and dumped in a packet of Tide. Oh, the glorious smell of detergent. It doesn't take much to please me, apparently. Next came the strategic selection of which clothes to wash balanced against the expectation of when the laundry maestro would (if ever) return.
After about 2 weeks of handwashing, I think my left elbow is flaring up with some nice tendonitis. Lovely. See, this is something they should mention in the Africal travel-health books? Either that or I'll have dengue fever tomorrow. But the smell of Tide in my clothing (as opposed to unscented soap, which has a scent, oddly enough...) left me with quite the sense of accomplishment. I even rigged up a nice drying rack in my room! I figured, hey, if I gotta do this for the rest of the summer, so be it. Got plenty of emergency Tide packets to go around.
With my greatly inflated sense of self-pride, it was time to dump out the bucket of water. At which point I ran into the laundry maestro.
*sigh*
Anyways, today has also been the day of rather fruitless phone calls. I have feverishly been trying to contact the Centre for Democratic Development to get some Afrobarometer data from them. I have 2 of their telephone numbers, neither of which seem to have a person on the other end. It turns out they have THREE MORE telephone numbers that I can try. The expected value has got to be 1, right? Maybe the 35th time's the charm.
The other place I need to contact is the Ghana Statistical Service, which I've heard can be a bit of a headache for researchers (not least involving having to yell over the phone given the bad connections). I was discussing this with my contact at the Ports Ministry (which is right next door to GSS), and he told me that the wife of a professor in Legon that I was working with is a statistician at GSS. *cue incredible sense of relief* Definitely been really lucky with the contacts I've made.
In other news, tonight is two-for-Tuesday at the Pizza Inn. Definitely makes up for my failed laundry adventures.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Wherein I make funny faces for three hours
Greetings from Accra! I arrived safely after a five-hour bus ride along the beautiful coastline of Ghana (though I was sure we were going to die after overtaking a heavy rig with not much room to spare...), an hour-and-a-half long cab ride through Accra due to ridiculously heavy traffic (at one point we were stuck beside the Accra landfill/sewage treatment plant. Can cholera be transmitted by air?) and then about an hour of negotiating with the UGhana hostel staff to give me a room. And I was starving/dehydrated. But I lived. And took my malaria pill. Bring on the lucid dreams!
This bus ride was better than the one outbound from Accra, namely because the driver played the radio instead of torturing us with a screaming Nigerian film, thus allowing me some sleep. I have never been so glad to hear American country music, which I don't normally like that much. I didn't bring anything to read on the bus since I probably, given the state of Ghanaian highways, would have gotten motion sickness and thrown up, thus exacerbating my already starving state, but I was entertained by this baby boy (maybe 2 years old) sitting in front of me. He was with his mother and grandmother, but, like many other small children, was fascinated by the proximity of an obruni. Maybe I was the first one he had seen. But when either his mother or grandmother was holding him he would try and climb up, and make pawing motions and gurgle in my direction. And thus I made funny faces (well, at least more funny than usual) at him, pretended to hide behind my clip-on sunglasses (which he found especially entertaining) and danced along to the country music in my seat. I'm sure the people behind me thought I was an idiot. But his mother thanked me for keeping her son quiet and happy during the trip, which definitely made my day. :)
The other Harvard people are already back at the hostel, so I'm definitely glad to have some people to hang out with. Emma is near me, composing an epic post on their group's travels over the past couple weeks, and by the looks of her blog, Esther has been having quite a few adventures all over the country, so hopefully I can add some more adventures within the next couple weeks. This week I'll be doing some research around Accra at the various think tanks and ministries as well as working on the data analysis, but afterwards will be spent travelling the country by tro-tro.
Oh, I just found out that my 5kg envelope of surveys, which I mailed on Friday, just arrived at home. Good old UPS. It was mad expensive--which is why it's on the university's tab, heehee. :)
Addendum: This morning I almost missed the bus because the tailor in charge of making the kente shirts I ordered was late in opening up his business. But I made friends with the shopkeepers next door, who all knew the guy and were cursing him for being late, lol. They then tracked down his brother (he owns the business next to the tailor's), who ordered him by mobile phone to come as quickly as possible with the "obruni's shirts". Oh, the power of social networks. And so I hung out with the shopkeepers for about half an hour and talked with them about life in the US (it took a bit of time to convince them that I was not Chinese), which was definitely really cool. Of course, it didn't matter that the guy was late because the bus itself was also running on Ghanaian time. :P
This bus ride was better than the one outbound from Accra, namely because the driver played the radio instead of torturing us with a screaming Nigerian film, thus allowing me some sleep. I have never been so glad to hear American country music, which I don't normally like that much. I didn't bring anything to read on the bus since I probably, given the state of Ghanaian highways, would have gotten motion sickness and thrown up, thus exacerbating my already starving state, but I was entertained by this baby boy (maybe 2 years old) sitting in front of me. He was with his mother and grandmother, but, like many other small children, was fascinated by the proximity of an obruni. Maybe I was the first one he had seen. But when either his mother or grandmother was holding him he would try and climb up, and make pawing motions and gurgle in my direction. And thus I made funny faces (well, at least more funny than usual) at him, pretended to hide behind my clip-on sunglasses (which he found especially entertaining) and danced along to the country music in my seat. I'm sure the people behind me thought I was an idiot. But his mother thanked me for keeping her son quiet and happy during the trip, which definitely made my day. :)
The other Harvard people are already back at the hostel, so I'm definitely glad to have some people to hang out with. Emma is near me, composing an epic post on their group's travels over the past couple weeks, and by the looks of her blog, Esther has been having quite a few adventures all over the country, so hopefully I can add some more adventures within the next couple weeks. This week I'll be doing some research around Accra at the various think tanks and ministries as well as working on the data analysis, but afterwards will be spent travelling the country by tro-tro.
Oh, I just found out that my 5kg envelope of surveys, which I mailed on Friday, just arrived at home. Good old UPS. It was mad expensive--which is why it's on the university's tab, heehee. :)
Addendum: This morning I almost missed the bus because the tailor in charge of making the kente shirts I ordered was late in opening up his business. But I made friends with the shopkeepers next door, who all knew the guy and were cursing him for being late, lol. They then tracked down his brother (he owns the business next to the tailor's), who ordered him by mobile phone to come as quickly as possible with the "obruni's shirts". Oh, the power of social networks. And so I hung out with the shopkeepers for about half an hour and talked with them about life in the US (it took a bit of time to convince them that I was not Chinese), which was definitely really cool. Of course, it didn't matter that the guy was late because the bus itself was also running on Ghanaian time. :P
Foghorn Legon
This was supposed to be published yesterday, but Blogspot was being a bit uncooperative.
This is my last post from Takoradi, and I can honestly say I'm going to miss this city a lot. Compared with Accra, it's much more compact, the people are friendlier (i.e. I could walk around in the evenings and not get stabbed) and the overall environment is just more welcoming to foreigners. This morning, as I was leaving church, I heard someone call out "obruni"; after several weeks of this, I've gotten accustomed to just walking on if I don't feel like making conversation (yeah, sometimes I'm just tired...), but this guy actually called tugged my sleeve, so I was like "yo ... dude..." But it turns out that his absolutely adorable baby daughter, who was maybe 14-16 months and just toddling about, was really fascinated by me, this light-skinned guy, and wanted to shake my hand. I think she was about as tall as my knee. I crouched down and gave her a little high five--she gave a little squeal and then ran behind her father. Definitely the highlight of my morning.
The past couple of days have been low-key for me. Just doing battle with R code (picture me ardently pleading with my laptop, lights flickering, shoo-ing away mosquitoes), but it seems like victory is close at hand. I successfully imputed 10 data sets in a row, so now I have just have to build constraining priors matrices to make sure my imputed salary responses don't appear to be denominated in Zimbabwean dollars. In other words, I successfully made up data for non-responses that appears like it could have been a logical response. Speaking of victory, The Patriot was on last night on the South African movie channel. Such an excellent movie. Best quote comes from the Reverend-turned-colonial-militia: "A shepherd has to tend to his flock. And at times defend it from wolves."
Anyways, I should be back in Legon (that's the University of Ghana campus) on Monday afternoon. I'll also be picking up a few more kente shirts that morning! Will try and post some pictures when I get back to the University; allegedly I can connect my laptop to the wireless network that sometimes exists...
This is my last post from Takoradi, and I can honestly say I'm going to miss this city a lot. Compared with Accra, it's much more compact, the people are friendlier (i.e. I could walk around in the evenings and not get stabbed) and the overall environment is just more welcoming to foreigners. This morning, as I was leaving church, I heard someone call out "obruni"; after several weeks of this, I've gotten accustomed to just walking on if I don't feel like making conversation (yeah, sometimes I'm just tired...), but this guy actually called tugged my sleeve, so I was like "yo ... dude..." But it turns out that his absolutely adorable baby daughter, who was maybe 14-16 months and just toddling about, was really fascinated by me, this light-skinned guy, and wanted to shake my hand. I think she was about as tall as my knee. I crouched down and gave her a little high five--she gave a little squeal and then ran behind her father. Definitely the highlight of my morning.
The past couple of days have been low-key for me. Just doing battle with R code (picture me ardently pleading with my laptop, lights flickering, shoo-ing away mosquitoes), but it seems like victory is close at hand. I successfully imputed 10 data sets in a row, so now I have just have to build constraining priors matrices to make sure my imputed salary responses don't appear to be denominated in Zimbabwean dollars. In other words, I successfully made up data for non-responses that appears like it could have been a logical response. Speaking of victory, The Patriot was on last night on the South African movie channel. Such an excellent movie. Best quote comes from the Reverend-turned-colonial-militia: "A shepherd has to tend to his flock. And at times defend it from wolves."
Anyways, I should be back in Legon (that's the University of Ghana campus) on Monday afternoon. I'll also be picking up a few more kente shirts that morning! Will try and post some pictures when I get back to the University; allegedly I can connect my laptop to the wireless network that sometimes exists...
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft
Today started off fairly well. For once, my shower's water heater was actually working so I was able to take a hot shower! Only the third one in the past five weeks. Yeah, this cold shower business...not too cool. And yet it is. The water pressure in my shower basically consists of about 10% actual pressure and 90% gravity, so the shower's more like a trickle. I'm never complaining about water pressure back home again.
I've been feeling a major sense of relief after mailing back the surveys yesterday (they're currently in Britain right now). Now begins more of the computer analysis, which tends to go slowly as a lot of debugging is required. Think in terms of guided missiles: ready, fire, aim! I was able to start the imputations on the first try (yeah!), but quickly ran into some bugs. Still going at it, but it's looking to have great promise.
I also walked around a good bit of the city, and was able to buy some very colourful Ghanaian fabric that my mom's agreed to sew into curtains for next year. Like my shirt (see below), it's a very traditional, geometric style pattern, but it has more blue, green, white and orange in it. I hope to pick up some more cloth (perhaps woven instead of just printed!) when I head to Kumasi or perhaps in Eastern Volta (where I hear it's cheaper). I showed the hotel staff, and they said I was already becoming an authentic Ghanaian. Now if I can only get myself hired as a tro-tro mate...
This afternoon I basically stayed in and watched my laptop run imputations. And repeat. But I was nicely interrupted by a huge parade going on right at the Market Circle across from the hotel! (I will post pictures when I get back to Accra; the internet cafe frowns upon me using my USB drive.) There were two trucks and a bus carrying very colourfully-clad members of this religious song/dance group called the Good News Effort. They had a full entourage of 12-piece brass band, drummers, dancers, and every car in the vicinity was honking its horn. People in the street were dancing, singing in Fante and just having a great time. It was insane. I'll see if I can post the video on Facebook or something.
So I'll be leaving for Accra Monday morning (then I can finally do laundry the right way...), so I've been having extra meals with Mensah and other friends from around here. A couple nights ago, when Thomas was still around (he is back in Accra already), the topic of witchcraft came up, and both these guys believe its still very powerful around here, though its effect has been diminished with modernization. So I listened to a couple stories for about an hour.
Apparently, a few years ago at Tema Port, an Italian ship had run aground because it misjudged a lighthouse. They tried to tow it with tugboats. Didn't work. They tried to get another cargo vessel to tow it. Didn't work. They even brought in a super-tug from Nigeria. Also fruitless. So one of the local staff suggested they go to a Ga medicine man, bring him some schnapps, a live goat for sacrifice (no joke) and some herbs, and see what he can do. The Italian captain was, naturally, skeptical. But he needed to get out of port eventually. So after some convincing, he assented, and the medicine man arrived on shore, sacrificed the goat, did some double double toil and trouble ... at which point the water around the ship started boiling. The Italians were freaking out. And then the ship started moving, and the captain was able to take it back to sea. I'm sure they got away as fast as they could...
I was pretty skeptical about the veracity of this story, but both Thomas and Mensah were very adamant about the truth of it. Neither of them seem like the kind of guys who would be super into such things, but they were very serious. They also told me about this market in the border town of Elubo, near the Cote d'Ivoire, in which the market literally never closes. Even when the traders leave, they just leave all their goods out, without packing it away. They tell me that there's some kind of spell in the town where if anyone steals anything in the night, the snakes of the town will follow him all over amongst other misfortunes. But what if you steal snake repellent ...
So that was definitely a bit of an intense dinner discussion. The Bradt guide advises travellers to pass through Elubo as quickly as possible because it is such a hectic border town, and I believe it even mentions that one of the hotels has a reputation for witchcraft and human sacrifices. I wonder if you can earn Hilton points from there.
I've been feeling a major sense of relief after mailing back the surveys yesterday (they're currently in Britain right now). Now begins more of the computer analysis, which tends to go slowly as a lot of debugging is required. Think in terms of guided missiles: ready, fire, aim! I was able to start the imputations on the first try (yeah!), but quickly ran into some bugs. Still going at it, but it's looking to have great promise.
I also walked around a good bit of the city, and was able to buy some very colourful Ghanaian fabric that my mom's agreed to sew into curtains for next year. Like my shirt (see below), it's a very traditional, geometric style pattern, but it has more blue, green, white and orange in it. I hope to pick up some more cloth (perhaps woven instead of just printed!) when I head to Kumasi or perhaps in Eastern Volta (where I hear it's cheaper). I showed the hotel staff, and they said I was already becoming an authentic Ghanaian. Now if I can only get myself hired as a tro-tro mate...
This afternoon I basically stayed in and watched my laptop run imputations. And repeat. But I was nicely interrupted by a huge parade going on right at the Market Circle across from the hotel! (I will post pictures when I get back to Accra; the internet cafe frowns upon me using my USB drive.) There were two trucks and a bus carrying very colourfully-clad members of this religious song/dance group called the Good News Effort. They had a full entourage of 12-piece brass band, drummers, dancers, and every car in the vicinity was honking its horn. People in the street were dancing, singing in Fante and just having a great time. It was insane. I'll see if I can post the video on Facebook or something.
So I'll be leaving for Accra Monday morning (then I can finally do laundry the right way...), so I've been having extra meals with Mensah and other friends from around here. A couple nights ago, when Thomas was still around (he is back in Accra already), the topic of witchcraft came up, and both these guys believe its still very powerful around here, though its effect has been diminished with modernization. So I listened to a couple stories for about an hour.
Apparently, a few years ago at Tema Port, an Italian ship had run aground because it misjudged a lighthouse. They tried to tow it with tugboats. Didn't work. They tried to get another cargo vessel to tow it. Didn't work. They even brought in a super-tug from Nigeria. Also fruitless. So one of the local staff suggested they go to a Ga medicine man, bring him some schnapps, a live goat for sacrifice (no joke) and some herbs, and see what he can do. The Italian captain was, naturally, skeptical. But he needed to get out of port eventually. So after some convincing, he assented, and the medicine man arrived on shore, sacrificed the goat, did some double double toil and trouble ... at which point the water around the ship started boiling. The Italians were freaking out. And then the ship started moving, and the captain was able to take it back to sea. I'm sure they got away as fast as they could...
I was pretty skeptical about the veracity of this story, but both Thomas and Mensah were very adamant about the truth of it. Neither of them seem like the kind of guys who would be super into such things, but they were very serious. They also told me about this market in the border town of Elubo, near the Cote d'Ivoire, in which the market literally never closes. Even when the traders leave, they just leave all their goods out, without packing it away. They tell me that there's some kind of spell in the town where if anyone steals anything in the night, the snakes of the town will follow him all over amongst other misfortunes. But what if you steal snake repellent ...
So that was definitely a bit of an intense dinner discussion. The Bradt guide advises travellers to pass through Elubo as quickly as possible because it is such a hectic border town, and I believe it even mentions that one of the hotels has a reputation for witchcraft and human sacrifices. I wonder if you can earn Hilton points from there.
Friday, July 18, 2008
I say Akuapem, you say Akwapim
Today was my final day of research at the Port of Takoradi, so I went through all the customary farewells to all the managers and assistants who've been helping me out these past couple weeks. I'm definitely going to miss them and working in the port environment. There was much exchanging of personal e-mail address, and I've promised to mail them a copy of my thesis once it is published. There's going to be a very long gratitude section in that thesis. Mensah tells me that one day he will meet me in the US, and that we will have a drink. Good stuff.
This morning I mailed off 167 surveys, which comes out to around 800-900 pages. And it all fit into one (plastic) UPS envelope. It weighed 5kg. It was intense. Now I just gotta hope the guy on the motorbike makes it safely to the bus station ...
I'm not really sure what my plans for the weekend are. One of the managers recommended I go to Paragon Night Club, which is apparently quite famous in Takoradi. But ... it's just me here. And the memory of the prostitutes (see post below) from the Africa Beach Resort is still a bit fresh in my mind. Though I think about half a dozen British girls arrived at my hotel last night. Too bad the "wingman" part of my grant proposal did not get approved.
I've also ordered a few more shirts to be tailored in different (but still very colourful) kente-like patterns, which I'll be picking up on Monday before I head to Accra. I also want to pick up a few yards of kente-pattern cloth, which my mom might be able to sew into curtains for the dorm room (we're on the first floor--what's up, Aneesh?) next year. Should add a nice Ghanaian touch to the room.
I've spent the past hour or so doing some research on language groups (I need to properly code this in my data). So I've been battling the slow Internet connection, tracking down obscure language groups like the Guan, Aowin (isn't she in Lord of the Rings?), Kusasi and Brosa to figure out if they belong in the Akan umbrella or not. Thank you, wikipedia. (hey, I'll do some more thorough checking when I get back...). It's also not easy when the same group has multiple spellings, like the group in the title. And I can't really figure out if it's Ashante or Ashanti, Fante or Fanti. My respondents used whichever, and were often not even consistent within their own surveys. Anything goes, I suppose.
I think I've also found a new favourite football (soccer) team. Since about 10th grade, I've been a "Gunners' Man", meaning I root for Arsenal. This came from a family trip to Europe in which we had a Dutch tour guide--I happened to purchase a Dennis Bergkamp jersey, and the guide talked to me for about an hour about Bergkamp's thrilling exploits. So he then called me Bergkamp for the remainder of the trip.
Anyways, I've recently become a bit disillusioned with Premiership football: Arsenal doesn't have as much home-grown talent as it used to (esp. compared to, say, Liverpool), and the team has gone in a decidedly commercialized direction, like Chelsea (but wait, aren't you also a Yankees fan, Joe? uhhh, that's different...).
Last night, amidst another round of data inputting/banging head on wall, I switched on the TV, and found a replay of a last-season match featuring Celtic FC vs Aberdeen (Scottish Premier League), in which Celtic trounced Aberdeen 5-1. Normally, I sometimes will get bored during the course of a match, walk around, read, come back when I hear the volume go up, etc. Not this one: Celtic was in absolutely phenomenal form. I could also tell that they were a "team" team. Their passing and ball control were absolutely clinical, and they made things look effortless. They reminded me of the Yankees of the mid-90s--sure there were some star players, but the unit was greater than the sum of its parts. The most memorable moment of the match came around the hour mark, with Aiden McGeady (wow, what a name) connecting with one of the strikers, Scott Brown I think, for a stunning goal. AM picked up the ball around midfield, sprinted through Aberdeen's midfield, and found himself against three defenders on the edge of the penalty box. SB was about 8 yds to AM's right, but also marked by two defenders. Then came the magic. AM skirted through the defense using a 360 spin WITH a backheel (to flick the ball through the defense), and came out on the other side. But he was right in front of the keeper (and to the left of the goal), so he couldn't score himself. He then effortlessly flicked the ball over the keeper to SB, who was still in a crowd of defender, to gracefully head in for a goal. It was a master class.
I think that won me over. There were also some other memorable goals (including a thrilling Beckham-like, curling free kick), but McGeady was incredible. I'm sure there's a YouTube video of it out there. To my Japan-based readers: Celtic have a star midfielder/free-kick specialist named Nakamura. I'll definitely be following this team more. In the Scottish league, the pace appeared much faster, and there was less theatrics compared with other European leagues, two things which I definitely enjoy. I think they've got a live friendly match today, so hopefully it'll also be on TV.
Wow, soccer definitely dominated most of that post. I think it's about time for lunch ...
This morning I mailed off 167 surveys, which comes out to around 800-900 pages. And it all fit into one (plastic) UPS envelope. It weighed 5kg. It was intense. Now I just gotta hope the guy on the motorbike makes it safely to the bus station ...
I'm not really sure what my plans for the weekend are. One of the managers recommended I go to Paragon Night Club, which is apparently quite famous in Takoradi. But ... it's just me here. And the memory of the prostitutes (see post below) from the Africa Beach Resort is still a bit fresh in my mind. Though I think about half a dozen British girls arrived at my hotel last night. Too bad the "wingman" part of my grant proposal did not get approved.
I've also ordered a few more shirts to be tailored in different (but still very colourful) kente-like patterns, which I'll be picking up on Monday before I head to Accra. I also want to pick up a few yards of kente-pattern cloth, which my mom might be able to sew into curtains for the dorm room (we're on the first floor--what's up, Aneesh?) next year. Should add a nice Ghanaian touch to the room.
I've spent the past hour or so doing some research on language groups (I need to properly code this in my data). So I've been battling the slow Internet connection, tracking down obscure language groups like the Guan, Aowin (isn't she in Lord of the Rings?), Kusasi and Brosa to figure out if they belong in the Akan umbrella or not. Thank you, wikipedia. (hey, I'll do some more thorough checking when I get back...). It's also not easy when the same group has multiple spellings, like the group in the title. And I can't really figure out if it's Ashante or Ashanti, Fante or Fanti. My respondents used whichever, and were often not even consistent within their own surveys. Anything goes, I suppose.
I think I've also found a new favourite football (soccer) team. Since about 10th grade, I've been a "Gunners' Man", meaning I root for Arsenal. This came from a family trip to Europe in which we had a Dutch tour guide--I happened to purchase a Dennis Bergkamp jersey, and the guide talked to me for about an hour about Bergkamp's thrilling exploits. So he then called me Bergkamp for the remainder of the trip.
Anyways, I've recently become a bit disillusioned with Premiership football: Arsenal doesn't have as much home-grown talent as it used to (esp. compared to, say, Liverpool), and the team has gone in a decidedly commercialized direction, like Chelsea (but wait, aren't you also a Yankees fan, Joe? uhhh, that's different...).
Last night, amidst another round of data inputting/banging head on wall, I switched on the TV, and found a replay of a last-season match featuring Celtic FC vs Aberdeen (Scottish Premier League), in which Celtic trounced Aberdeen 5-1. Normally, I sometimes will get bored during the course of a match, walk around, read, come back when I hear the volume go up, etc. Not this one: Celtic was in absolutely phenomenal form. I could also tell that they were a "team" team. Their passing and ball control were absolutely clinical, and they made things look effortless. They reminded me of the Yankees of the mid-90s--sure there were some star players, but the unit was greater than the sum of its parts. The most memorable moment of the match came around the hour mark, with Aiden McGeady (wow, what a name) connecting with one of the strikers, Scott Brown I think, for a stunning goal. AM picked up the ball around midfield, sprinted through Aberdeen's midfield, and found himself against three defenders on the edge of the penalty box. SB was about 8 yds to AM's right, but also marked by two defenders. Then came the magic. AM skirted through the defense using a 360 spin WITH a backheel (to flick the ball through the defense), and came out on the other side. But he was right in front of the keeper (and to the left of the goal), so he couldn't score himself. He then effortlessly flicked the ball over the keeper to SB, who was still in a crowd of defender, to gracefully head in for a goal. It was a master class.
I think that won me over. There were also some other memorable goals (including a thrilling Beckham-like, curling free kick), but McGeady was incredible. I'm sure there's a YouTube video of it out there. To my Japan-based readers: Celtic have a star midfielder/free-kick specialist named Nakamura. I'll definitely be following this team more. In the Scottish league, the pace appeared much faster, and there was less theatrics compared with other European leagues, two things which I definitely enjoy. I think they've got a live friendly match today, so hopefully it'll also be on TV.
Wow, soccer definitely dominated most of that post. I think it's about time for lunch ...
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Boyz II Mensah
Finally, a day off.
Yesterday I collected most of the rest of my surveys, and I actually met my target (I know I revised it downwards, but maybe I'll leave that out of my actual thesis, jk) for respondents and interviews (I swear I will get my money's worth out of this voice recorder one way or another...), so today I've been chilling in my hotel room (hey, I got to watch X-Men II this morning!)/internet cafe as well as starting the data analysis.
Data analysis is a bit rough right now as I need to figure out how to code weird responses.
Some examples:
Q: How many times have you attended religious services in the past three months?
A: Hebrews 3:19-24.
Q: Do you receive a rent subsidy from your employer? Please circle: Yes | No
Respondent then wrote: It is too damn small. I can barely afford a kiosk.
Thomas, my research assistant, also provides some fun commentary:
Q: How many children under the age of 18 do you have? 7
Q: How many children aged 18 and over do you have? 4
Thomas: Man, no wonder this guy took so long to return the survey. Look how busy he is!
The joys of survey research. I'm back in Accra on the 21st, and I'll be spending that week hunting down data from profs and government ministries, as well as continuing the analysis. Fun stuff.
Anyways, my research may sound very quantitative, but there have actually been quite a few enlightening discussions with people I've been seeing, whether in the formal setting with the voice recorder or at the restaurant over a drink.
Two port staff I've gotten to know particularly well are both named Mensah; one is the port's personnel manager, who I will refer to as Mr Mensah, and the other is a port messenger/my adjutant research assistant, who I will refer to simply as Mensah. Basically one is at the top of the ladder, and the other is at the bottom.
Mr Mensah really likes to talk with me about the social and political differences between the Ghana and the US. He entered the port staff at the age of 19 in the late 1970s as a simple messenger boy, lived through the many coups d'etat in Ghana's history, and rose through the ranks to become the port's second-highest officer. He's seen how weapons secretly imported from abroad (USSR, US, China, etc.) through the port system helped fuel the Jerry Rawlings coup(s) amongst other sorts of unrest throughout the country's history.
During those years, West African ports were very poorly managed and security was rather non-existent. Many port workers were enticed by foreign shipping lines to leave that mess of a country and become shipworkers, see the world, find better opportunities, etc. Most of Mr Mensah's friends left Ghana with these shipping lines, and he hasn't really seen them since. The few he's talked with now long for their homeland, but are basically trapped with their companies, have no families and what not. And they said he was crazy for staying--though, given the politics, he may well have been.
When he started working at the port, Mr Mensah had only finished high school. Port workers work 10 hour shifts: 8am to 6pm is the day shift. And it is hot. Ports in West Africa are not like European or American ports. West African ports are labour-intensive: a lot of the goods are moved with backbreaking labour (they do have some cranes/forklifts, but not enough) and the system is not exactly computerized. An aside: one of Ghana's main exports is cocoa, which is shipped unprocessed in these sacks that workers load onto ships after they've dried out for a bit. Unprocessed cocoa is seriously one of the foulest things I have smelled in Africa. And it smells almost everywhere in the port. The first few days I was at the port I thought some kind of sewage line had broken or it was just the smell from the open sewers lining the road. Nope, it was cocoa. It smells a lot nicer processed. In developed countries, ports are more "capital intensive" and there are far fewer workers around. And no smell of unprocessed cocoa.
Anyways, because he didn't want to spend his life as a messenger, Mr Mensah went to technical school. At night. After his 10 hour shift. After doing mandatory overtime when his bosses needed him. Imagine: probably no electricity, poor health services, a government that kills all opponents. Most everyone else would hide at home or get drunk when night came.
But he stuck with it. Eventually earned a university degree. Earned a scholarship to study management in the UK. Rose through the ranks. Became a port officer. And now has a family and is the second-highest official. He says he loves Ghana and its way of life, and would not want to move to the US. But he tells me that his experiences have taught him to admire the US for making its people work hard and be responsible for themselves. In Ghana, you often rely on your larger family as a support network, something which he thinks has led much of the country to be lazy. And lazy people sitting around can lead to bad political outcomes ...
Mensah the messenger has a slightly different perspective. He complains of the management: they treat him like a slave, doing things like washing their car, shining their shoes, sweeping the floors, etc. He has a technical school qualification, can read and write fairly well and yet is subjected to this treatment. He says he is also assigned to random jobs that the management doesn't have time to deal with. Like being my chaperone around the port.
When I first met Mensah, I thought he was just fresh out of school and starting a career at the port from the entry level. He looks very young, he's shorter than me and doesn't appear to need to shave. He shares a desk with 2 other guys, also messengers, and, as mentioned above, doesn't exactly get much respect from the management.
It was only later that I found out he was actually 33. And had been a messenger for 7 years already. He felt that he was stuck. He didn't want to be the messenger/servant for the rest of his life.
But it's not like he's not doing anything about it. He works 7am to 6pm, 6days a week, and like Mr Mensah he goes to school at nights. But sometimes he's late to lecture because a manager needs his car washed or some other random duty. So that holds back his progress. But there just aren't enough openings at the port and expansion (look below at my land tenure post) doesn't yet seem very likely.
His family has also been through a lot. He tells me how his father was tortured under the Rawlings regime when he was just a young boy, and how his parents always told him to never support that party (the current NDC). Thomas supports the NDC's presidential candidate, and he and Mensah got into a heated argument about that a couple days ago. People in Ghana are still very much afraid of the NDC because of its past atrocities, despite there being some new leaders. Politics is also, though very much under the surface now, divided along ethnic lines. For instance, the Ashantes I've interviewed often point the finger at the Ewes and vice versa. Thomas thinks people should look beyond the past and support the more qualified candidate (which is certainly the NDC's man) for president, and then vote for whomever for their MP. But Mensah says it would be shameful for him to support the party that tortured his family. He grew up hating that regime. And I think a lot of Ghanaians share that sentiment.
Mensah wants to rise through the ranks and eventually make it to the US. But first he needs to help out his brother, who's just started at the port following school. I initially felt pretty annoyed that Mensah would call me like 5 times at the end of the day to figure out when/where I was doing dinner, because I would then be compelled to buy him dinner and a beer (it was fine the first few times...). But I noticed he never ate the food in front of me. It was for his brother. And suddenly a few cedis doesn't seem to be all that much.
I guess I really can't complain.
Yesterday I collected most of the rest of my surveys, and I actually met my target (I know I revised it downwards, but maybe I'll leave that out of my actual thesis, jk) for respondents and interviews (I swear I will get my money's worth out of this voice recorder one way or another...), so today I've been chilling in my hotel room (hey, I got to watch X-Men II this morning!)/internet cafe as well as starting the data analysis.
Data analysis is a bit rough right now as I need to figure out how to code weird responses.
Some examples:
Q: How many times have you attended religious services in the past three months?
A: Hebrews 3:19-24.
Q: Do you receive a rent subsidy from your employer? Please circle: Yes | No
Respondent then wrote: It is too damn small. I can barely afford a kiosk.
Thomas, my research assistant, also provides some fun commentary:
Q: How many children under the age of 18 do you have? 7
Q: How many children aged 18 and over do you have? 4
Thomas: Man, no wonder this guy took so long to return the survey. Look how busy he is!
The joys of survey research. I'm back in Accra on the 21st, and I'll be spending that week hunting down data from profs and government ministries, as well as continuing the analysis. Fun stuff.
Anyways, my research may sound very quantitative, but there have actually been quite a few enlightening discussions with people I've been seeing, whether in the formal setting with the voice recorder or at the restaurant over a drink.
Two port staff I've gotten to know particularly well are both named Mensah; one is the port's personnel manager, who I will refer to as Mr Mensah, and the other is a port messenger/my adjutant research assistant, who I will refer to simply as Mensah. Basically one is at the top of the ladder, and the other is at the bottom.
Mr Mensah really likes to talk with me about the social and political differences between the Ghana and the US. He entered the port staff at the age of 19 in the late 1970s as a simple messenger boy, lived through the many coups d'etat in Ghana's history, and rose through the ranks to become the port's second-highest officer. He's seen how weapons secretly imported from abroad (USSR, US, China, etc.) through the port system helped fuel the Jerry Rawlings coup(s) amongst other sorts of unrest throughout the country's history.
During those years, West African ports were very poorly managed and security was rather non-existent. Many port workers were enticed by foreign shipping lines to leave that mess of a country and become shipworkers, see the world, find better opportunities, etc. Most of Mr Mensah's friends left Ghana with these shipping lines, and he hasn't really seen them since. The few he's talked with now long for their homeland, but are basically trapped with their companies, have no families and what not. And they said he was crazy for staying--though, given the politics, he may well have been.
When he started working at the port, Mr Mensah had only finished high school. Port workers work 10 hour shifts: 8am to 6pm is the day shift. And it is hot. Ports in West Africa are not like European or American ports. West African ports are labour-intensive: a lot of the goods are moved with backbreaking labour (they do have some cranes/forklifts, but not enough) and the system is not exactly computerized. An aside: one of Ghana's main exports is cocoa, which is shipped unprocessed in these sacks that workers load onto ships after they've dried out for a bit. Unprocessed cocoa is seriously one of the foulest things I have smelled in Africa. And it smells almost everywhere in the port. The first few days I was at the port I thought some kind of sewage line had broken or it was just the smell from the open sewers lining the road. Nope, it was cocoa. It smells a lot nicer processed. In developed countries, ports are more "capital intensive" and there are far fewer workers around. And no smell of unprocessed cocoa.
Anyways, because he didn't want to spend his life as a messenger, Mr Mensah went to technical school. At night. After his 10 hour shift. After doing mandatory overtime when his bosses needed him. Imagine: probably no electricity, poor health services, a government that kills all opponents. Most everyone else would hide at home or get drunk when night came.
But he stuck with it. Eventually earned a university degree. Earned a scholarship to study management in the UK. Rose through the ranks. Became a port officer. And now has a family and is the second-highest official. He says he loves Ghana and its way of life, and would not want to move to the US. But he tells me that his experiences have taught him to admire the US for making its people work hard and be responsible for themselves. In Ghana, you often rely on your larger family as a support network, something which he thinks has led much of the country to be lazy. And lazy people sitting around can lead to bad political outcomes ...
Mensah the messenger has a slightly different perspective. He complains of the management: they treat him like a slave, doing things like washing their car, shining their shoes, sweeping the floors, etc. He has a technical school qualification, can read and write fairly well and yet is subjected to this treatment. He says he is also assigned to random jobs that the management doesn't have time to deal with. Like being my chaperone around the port.
When I first met Mensah, I thought he was just fresh out of school and starting a career at the port from the entry level. He looks very young, he's shorter than me and doesn't appear to need to shave. He shares a desk with 2 other guys, also messengers, and, as mentioned above, doesn't exactly get much respect from the management.
It was only later that I found out he was actually 33. And had been a messenger for 7 years already. He felt that he was stuck. He didn't want to be the messenger/servant for the rest of his life.
But it's not like he's not doing anything about it. He works 7am to 6pm, 6days a week, and like Mr Mensah he goes to school at nights. But sometimes he's late to lecture because a manager needs his car washed or some other random duty. So that holds back his progress. But there just aren't enough openings at the port and expansion (look below at my land tenure post) doesn't yet seem very likely.
His family has also been through a lot. He tells me how his father was tortured under the Rawlings regime when he was just a young boy, and how his parents always told him to never support that party (the current NDC). Thomas supports the NDC's presidential candidate, and he and Mensah got into a heated argument about that a couple days ago. People in Ghana are still very much afraid of the NDC because of its past atrocities, despite there being some new leaders. Politics is also, though very much under the surface now, divided along ethnic lines. For instance, the Ashantes I've interviewed often point the finger at the Ewes and vice versa. Thomas thinks people should look beyond the past and support the more qualified candidate (which is certainly the NDC's man) for president, and then vote for whomever for their MP. But Mensah says it would be shameful for him to support the party that tortured his family. He grew up hating that regime. And I think a lot of Ghanaians share that sentiment.
Mensah wants to rise through the ranks and eventually make it to the US. But first he needs to help out his brother, who's just started at the port following school. I initially felt pretty annoyed that Mensah would call me like 5 times at the end of the day to figure out when/where I was doing dinner, because I would then be compelled to buy him dinner and a beer (it was fine the first few times...). But I noticed he never ate the food in front of me. It was for his brother. And suddenly a few cedis doesn't seem to be all that much.
I guess I really can't complain.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Round up the usual suspects
This is another short post, as I'm using someone's computer at the port to check my e-mail (read: check e-mail, gchat, write this blog post, sell contraband, etc.). I've had to revise my target sample from 200 (ahaha that was optimistic) to 160, and am currently standing at 152 respondents. Almost ... There are quite a few funny responses to the questions, and I'll share some when I've got more time.
I'll be spending tonight/tomorrow inputting the data and starting to analyze it. This will probably involve much swearing at Stata and R. Some of the variables have a bit of missingness, so I'll (and by I, I mean my computer) be doing a lot of imputing, which always involves about 5x as much time in debugging compared to actually running the program. If all goes well ...
Last night I saw a British commercial for Subway (the sandwich chain). It involved a jalapeno pepper with a British accent saying "ahh, you like it hot hot hot?". I felt ... confused.
I'll be spending tonight/tomorrow inputting the data and starting to analyze it. This will probably involve much swearing at Stata and R. Some of the variables have a bit of missingness, so I'll (and by I, I mean my computer) be doing a lot of imputing, which always involves about 5x as much time in debugging compared to actually running the program. If all goes well ...
Last night I saw a British commercial for Subway (the sandwich chain). It involved a jalapeno pepper with a British accent saying "ahh, you like it hot hot hot?". I felt ... confused.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Halftime Report
Hey, today's my halfway point of the Ghana adventure! For the most part, I really love being in this country, and am definitely glad to be doing research here. The research is going fairly well, though it does involve a good amount of sitting and waiting for surveys, but, hey, so goes social science.
It looks like I will be back in Accra on the 21st/22nd. woot woot Okay, I gotta go and collect the rest of the surveys!
It looks like I will be back in Accra on the 21st/22nd. woot woot Okay, I gotta go and collect the rest of the surveys!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Cape Coastin'
Today I boarded an 8am tro-tro to Cape Coast to meet with a Sociology professor at the University of Cape Coast regarding my thesis research. Surprisingly, the trip went smoothly and I actually arrived on time (something that can sometimes be unheard of in Ghana...). But anyways he was very helpful, and he has a grad student actually researching something very similar to my topic, so was able to provide many supporting resources.
Afterwards, I decided to browse their "campus bookstore", which had maybe a total for 100 books. Many of which were children's books. Yeah...we're not in Kansas anymore. Or Harvard.
Following the bookstore, I boarded my sketchiest looking cab so far to go into town, but it actually turned into a very pleasant ride along the Atlantic coast, with surf crashing in and everything. My driver was very curious about America, specifically Boston, and asked me a lot of questions about the US. As I was leaving, he told me it was his biggest dream to make it to the US, and that he was determined to get there. Glad to see the American dream is still alive.
Once in town, I decided to head to the Cape Cafe. The Bradt guide fully recommends the Cape Coast Cafe, which is right in the center, and also attached to Women in Progress, a fair-trade (I still don't know how I feel about this concept...but whatevs...) NGO that assists women artists in selling their crafts for fair prices. I was hoping to buy some cool souvenirs from them. Unfortunately, the Bradt guide was updated a few years ago, and, upon arriving at the location, was told that both had closed down or moved away. Shucks. I ended up eating at Cape Coast Castle's restaurant, which had a great location, but was horribly dirty, even by African standards. My stomach churns just thinking about it.
Compared to Elmina, Cape Coast didn't quite inspire me as much. It's a bit more run-down, despite being the former British seat, and there was definitely more tourist harassment. That, and Cape Coast Castle, which granted is just as historical as Elmina, is not as well kept as Elmina Castle. I didn't get a chance to go inside, but it didn't really strike up the same level of impressiveness.
The tro-tro ride back home almost turned into a nightmare of motion sickness as our driver had a penchant for waving to his friends walking along the road without actually watching the road--leading to multiple short brakes at 50+km/h. My fellow tro-tro buddies were swearing at him in Twi, Fante, Ga, English, Latin, Cyrillic, etc. It was like the UN of tro-tro animosity. Or something. But the woman next to me offered some of her grilled maize (which they sell on the roadside). That was pretty cool.
Oh, I didn't get to blog yesterday because the Internet cafe was down. The only thing of importance that happened was that my attempt to go to Church was thwarted. The English mass is supposed to start at 8.30, but is bookended by two Fante services. However, the first Fante service went over time--all the way up to the start of the next Fante service (10am). Soooooo, by some silent consensus, they decided to just have another Fante service. I mean, I got "outvoted" by like 500 to 1. So I went home (and I was feeling dehydrated after standing outside for 90 minutes). My Ghana, my Ghana, why have you forsaken me?
Afterwards, I decided to browse their "campus bookstore", which had maybe a total for 100 books. Many of which were children's books. Yeah...we're not in Kansas anymore. Or Harvard.
Following the bookstore, I boarded my sketchiest looking cab so far to go into town, but it actually turned into a very pleasant ride along the Atlantic coast, with surf crashing in and everything. My driver was very curious about America, specifically Boston, and asked me a lot of questions about the US. As I was leaving, he told me it was his biggest dream to make it to the US, and that he was determined to get there. Glad to see the American dream is still alive.
Once in town, I decided to head to the Cape Cafe. The Bradt guide fully recommends the Cape Coast Cafe, which is right in the center, and also attached to Women in Progress, a fair-trade (I still don't know how I feel about this concept...but whatevs...) NGO that assists women artists in selling their crafts for fair prices. I was hoping to buy some cool souvenirs from them. Unfortunately, the Bradt guide was updated a few years ago, and, upon arriving at the location, was told that both had closed down or moved away. Shucks. I ended up eating at Cape Coast Castle's restaurant, which had a great location, but was horribly dirty, even by African standards. My stomach churns just thinking about it.
Compared to Elmina, Cape Coast didn't quite inspire me as much. It's a bit more run-down, despite being the former British seat, and there was definitely more tourist harassment. That, and Cape Coast Castle, which granted is just as historical as Elmina, is not as well kept as Elmina Castle. I didn't get a chance to go inside, but it didn't really strike up the same level of impressiveness.
The tro-tro ride back home almost turned into a nightmare of motion sickness as our driver had a penchant for waving to his friends walking along the road without actually watching the road--leading to multiple short brakes at 50+km/h. My fellow tro-tro buddies were swearing at him in Twi, Fante, Ga, English, Latin, Cyrillic, etc. It was like the UN of tro-tro animosity. Or something. But the woman next to me offered some of her grilled maize (which they sell on the roadside). That was pretty cool.
Oh, I didn't get to blog yesterday because the Internet cafe was down. The only thing of importance that happened was that my attempt to go to Church was thwarted. The English mass is supposed to start at 8.30, but is bookended by two Fante services. However, the first Fante service went over time--all the way up to the start of the next Fante service (10am). Soooooo, by some silent consensus, they decided to just have another Fante service. I mean, I got "outvoted" by like 500 to 1. So I went home (and I was feeling dehydrated after standing outside for 90 minutes). My Ghana, my Ghana, why have you forsaken me?
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Elmina
Today I ventured away from Takoradi for a bit to explore Elmina, which is located about 90 minutes east of Takoradi by tro-tro and shared taxi (definitely getting the full African transportation experience).
Elmina is one of Ghana's most historical sites, with the Portuguese first arriving in the 15th century. Later the Dutch came and held Elmina for a good little while, before selling all of their forts to the Brits in 1872, who controlled Gold Coast colony until 1957. However, what Elmina is best known for is its slave history: the Castle of St. George (aka Elmina Castle) represented one rather tortuous part of the slave trade. In short, slaves would be captured in the interior of West Africa (oftentimes Ashantis capturing Ashantis) and herded hundreds of miles through rough, mosquito-infested terrain to the coast, where they would be held in European castles like St. George, prior to being loaded onto ships bound for the New World. For more historical details, see Emma's post.
Elmina was originally built by the Portuguese, but all that's left of their work is a chapel which now serves as a museum. The Dutch expanded the castle to more or less its current size, with much of the fort being above 4 stories. I got to see the male and female slave dungeons where they would be crammed in by the hundreds in these dark, damp, smelly rooms for weeks or months awaiting their fates. And there were tons of bats flying around. It was an incredibly powerful experience, and I couldn't stand in there for more than a minute. The governor would also have lived quite close to the slave quarters, and I could see the "mansion" in which he lived and could oversee operations at the port. There were also lots of cannons and passageways to explore. The pictures are quite memory-intensive, so they will be posted later.
Right in front of the Castle is a bustling fishing harbour and market, with all the boats marked with different national flags and stuff. Very colorful. After the castle, I explored a different fort, Fort St. Jago, which is atop a hill in Elmina. It was built by the Dutch to ensure that no one could take over St. George in the same way that they did (which was by bombardment from the top of St. Jago hill). This fort was rather run-down (and also had lots of bats), but it afforded amazing pictures of St. George and the town.
Afterwards, I strolled through some rather dilapidated parts of town toward the St. Joseph Catholic Mission, which had been the first Catholic seat in Ghana (and headquarters for the Church during the Gold Coast year). I was treated to a very nice tour of their museum, and got pictures of the first cathedra (not cathedral; this is the bishop's seat) in Ghana, which was carved out of hardwood in 1888. Intense stuff right there.
Getting home was a bit of an adventure, and I could not find the lorry station that the Bradt guide promised was in the old town. So I had to play lost obruni and have the locals hail a shared taxi for me to get to the proper tro-tro junction. But I think they liked my kente shirt (or the idea of an obruni wearing a kente shirt), so I was treated exceptionally well. I even made a couple more friends on the tro-tro ride back to Takoradi. Not a bad day at all.
On a less positive note, I think the housekeeping staff stole my razor blade (not the whole razor) this morning. I reported it not because I expected to have it back (I really don't want it back...), but because I'm not tolerating any "broken windows". Hmmm ...
Elmina is one of Ghana's most historical sites, with the Portuguese first arriving in the 15th century. Later the Dutch came and held Elmina for a good little while, before selling all of their forts to the Brits in 1872, who controlled Gold Coast colony until 1957. However, what Elmina is best known for is its slave history: the Castle of St. George (aka Elmina Castle) represented one rather tortuous part of the slave trade. In short, slaves would be captured in the interior of West Africa (oftentimes Ashantis capturing Ashantis) and herded hundreds of miles through rough, mosquito-infested terrain to the coast, where they would be held in European castles like St. George, prior to being loaded onto ships bound for the New World. For more historical details, see Emma's post.
Elmina was originally built by the Portuguese, but all that's left of their work is a chapel which now serves as a museum. The Dutch expanded the castle to more or less its current size, with much of the fort being above 4 stories. I got to see the male and female slave dungeons where they would be crammed in by the hundreds in these dark, damp, smelly rooms for weeks or months awaiting their fates. And there were tons of bats flying around. It was an incredibly powerful experience, and I couldn't stand in there for more than a minute. The governor would also have lived quite close to the slave quarters, and I could see the "mansion" in which he lived and could oversee operations at the port. There were also lots of cannons and passageways to explore. The pictures are quite memory-intensive, so they will be posted later.
Right in front of the Castle is a bustling fishing harbour and market, with all the boats marked with different national flags and stuff. Very colorful. After the castle, I explored a different fort, Fort St. Jago, which is atop a hill in Elmina. It was built by the Dutch to ensure that no one could take over St. George in the same way that they did (which was by bombardment from the top of St. Jago hill). This fort was rather run-down (and also had lots of bats), but it afforded amazing pictures of St. George and the town.
Afterwards, I strolled through some rather dilapidated parts of town toward the St. Joseph Catholic Mission, which had been the first Catholic seat in Ghana (and headquarters for the Church during the Gold Coast year). I was treated to a very nice tour of their museum, and got pictures of the first cathedra (not cathedral; this is the bishop's seat) in Ghana, which was carved out of hardwood in 1888. Intense stuff right there.
Getting home was a bit of an adventure, and I could not find the lorry station that the Bradt guide promised was in the old town. So I had to play lost obruni and have the locals hail a shared taxi for me to get to the proper tro-tro junction. But I think they liked my kente shirt (or the idea of an obruni wearing a kente shirt), so I was treated exceptionally well. I even made a couple more friends on the tro-tro ride back to Takoradi. Not a bad day at all.
On a less positive note, I think the housekeeping staff stole my razor blade (not the whole razor) this morning. I reported it not because I expected to have it back (I really don't want it back...), but because I'm not tolerating any "broken windows". Hmmm ...
Friday, July 11, 2008
some pictures
Alright, I changed the settings on my camera to take smaller pics, so maybe I can get a couple from today up here.
At Port of Takoradi with Thomas, my research assistant.
Me with my hand-tailored kente shirt! That's my sketchy hotel room in the background.
Okay, it took about half an hour to load those two photos. The kid next to me advanced like 3 levels in this game called Freedom Fighters. He's playing as the Americans and is blowing up Soviets with a rocket launcher. I guess I kind of feel a sense of pride ...
At Port of Takoradi with Thomas, my research assistant.
Me with my hand-tailored kente shirt! That's my sketchy hotel room in the background.Okay, it took about half an hour to load those two photos. The kid next to me advanced like 3 levels in this game called Freedom Fighters. He's playing as the Americans and is blowing up Soviets with a rocket launcher. I guess I kind of feel a sense of pride ...
I had a title for today's post, but then I forgot
Today was the first day of survey collection, and I am feeling quite exhausted. We're actually still in the process of collecting, but I am taking a break in the port library. I think I've read through the past week's worth of Ghanaian newspapers--which leave much to be desired.
The good news: I've collected about the same number of surveys as at Tema. The bad news: there's still 140ish more to collect next week. Ahhhhh. Also, I think my hotel may be getting suspicious of my daily activities, and are wondering why this fair-skinned guy won't take advantage of their laundry "service." (remember the tumbu flies?) And my research assistant got a better room than I did at the hotel. Apparently my room's fan spins backwards, making the room hotter, while he has a functioning mini-fridge and hot water. That's just not right. At least it's the university's money...
Today I picked up my first kente-woven shirt! I still have to try it on, but it does look excellent. I think I will be going back to have some more stuff tailored. Which means I'll have to buy another suitcase here in Takoradi. But that shouldn't be a problem: at the central market, they have a "suitcase district", and you can even get the fancy hardback Samsonites with the swivel wheels for really cheap. In other words: man, I love arbitrage. It's also cool to watch the suitcase vendors bringing in the new stock in the morning--they stack a few of them on their heads and dodge in between the taxis and minibuses. Quite epic.
Last night the BBC ran a story on this Chinese acupuncturist who was putting 200+ needles in his head representing the different countries to celebrate the upcoming Olympics (he's planning to put in 2008 needles during the actual Games, no joke). After the story wrapped up, the anchorwoman made the following, absolutely effortless comment: "Well, I think he's quite the pinhead."
It was beautiful.
Addendum: Tomorrow I'm taking a tro-tro trip to Elmina to see the slave castle as well as the shrines and other cool things! But I need to brush up on my Twi since I've heard that tourists are increasingly getting harassed over there. Maybe I should wear the kente shirt, too.
The good news: I've collected about the same number of surveys as at Tema. The bad news: there's still 140ish more to collect next week. Ahhhhh. Also, I think my hotel may be getting suspicious of my daily activities, and are wondering why this fair-skinned guy won't take advantage of their laundry "service." (remember the tumbu flies?) And my research assistant got a better room than I did at the hotel. Apparently my room's fan spins backwards, making the room hotter, while he has a functioning mini-fridge and hot water. That's just not right. At least it's the university's money...
Today I picked up my first kente-woven shirt! I still have to try it on, but it does look excellent. I think I will be going back to have some more stuff tailored. Which means I'll have to buy another suitcase here in Takoradi. But that shouldn't be a problem: at the central market, they have a "suitcase district", and you can even get the fancy hardback Samsonites with the swivel wheels for really cheap. In other words: man, I love arbitrage. It's also cool to watch the suitcase vendors bringing in the new stock in the morning--they stack a few of them on their heads and dodge in between the taxis and minibuses. Quite epic.
Last night the BBC ran a story on this Chinese acupuncturist who was putting 200+ needles in his head representing the different countries to celebrate the upcoming Olympics (he's planning to put in 2008 needles during the actual Games, no joke). After the story wrapped up, the anchorwoman made the following, absolutely effortless comment: "Well, I think he's quite the pinhead."
It was beautiful.
Addendum: Tomorrow I'm taking a tro-tro trip to Elmina to see the slave castle as well as the shrines and other cool things! But I need to brush up on my Twi since I've heard that tourists are increasingly getting harassed over there. Maybe I should wear the kente shirt, too.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Just a Sekondi
Finished distributing the surveys today, and will start the first round (of three) collections tomorrow. Not much rest for me, there. :( Today I was able to venture up to Sekondi, which is the more historical part of the twin city of Sekondi-Takoradi. The city basically consists of rather dilapidated British-colonial era buildings that are painted in somewhat cheery seaside colors. The British had also set up a colonial forward base there, which the Western Region government still uses as an administrative center.
Most of the port operations are based out of Takoradi, with its natural deepwater harbor, but fishing operations are based out of Sekondi. If you've ever seen African fishing boats, the first thing you notice after how creaky and unsafe they look is that they are all very brightly painted with many (mostly God-fearing) slogans. I got a couple of pics of the Sekondi fleet. They've also got less exciting, more standard trawlers as well as a somewhat bustling fish market with people selling all sorts of goods.
Not much else going on ... my research assistant is currently inbound from Accra, so he'll be helping me with collection/debriefings starting tomorrow. At this pace, it looks like I might be back in Accra by the end of next week. I was able to peek at some surveys that were finished early, and it appears that I'm getting a good amount of dependent and explanatory variation (despite discovering two typos in my controls section ... grrrr ... oh well...). Hopefully that pattern will hold as more departments start coming in.
Also, I've made quite a few friends (they want me to be their brother, lol) in Takoradi's garment district. Good stuff.
Most of the port operations are based out of Takoradi, with its natural deepwater harbor, but fishing operations are based out of Sekondi. If you've ever seen African fishing boats, the first thing you notice after how creaky and unsafe they look is that they are all very brightly painted with many (mostly God-fearing) slogans. I got a couple of pics of the Sekondi fleet. They've also got less exciting, more standard trawlers as well as a somewhat bustling fish market with people selling all sorts of goods.
Not much else going on ... my research assistant is currently inbound from Accra, so he'll be helping me with collection/debriefings starting tomorrow. At this pace, it looks like I might be back in Accra by the end of next week. I was able to peek at some surveys that were finished early, and it appears that I'm getting a good amount of dependent and explanatory variation (despite discovering two typos in my controls section ... grrrr ... oh well...). Hopefully that pattern will hold as more departments start coming in.
Also, I've made quite a few friends (they want me to be their brother, lol) in Takoradi's garment district. Good stuff.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Ahhhh photos
Cancel that--it would take forever to upload photos on facebook (even slower than with dial-up). I may try again later.
Let's see how long it takes Blogger to put up a picture ... this one is from Aburi:
Let's see how long it takes Blogger to put up a picture ... this one is from Aburi:
I just kente do it
This afternoon I got measured to have a kente cloth shirt made for me! Never had anything tailor-made for me before. Kente is a very colorful, traditional Ashante (though the Ewe claim the Ashante got it from two captured Ewe weavers) cloth pattern that Ghana is well known for. Mine will have a very geometric pattern (the Ashante have special geometric patterns as well as animal/flower shapes that go into their kente patterns) with lots of orange, green, gold and blue. I'll be picking it up in two days, so hopefully I can post some pictures soon.
This morning I distributed 65 more surveys to the different engineering departments as well as to the stevedoring department. Just one more round of distributions then I can start collecting the results! It's really exciting to think that I'm actually generating data. Now if it will only support my (and my advisor's...lol) theories. Or any theory for that matter...
Last night I definitely thought I had a fever so I whipped out the digital thermometer (that's right) for the first time this summer. Nope, turned out to be okay; probably just exhausted with the heat or something.
Also, I'm about to post a selection of pictures on Facebook. Let's hope the bandwidth holds up for a little bit more.
This morning I distributed 65 more surveys to the different engineering departments as well as to the stevedoring department. Just one more round of distributions then I can start collecting the results! It's really exciting to think that I'm actually generating data. Now if it will only support my (and my advisor's...lol) theories. Or any theory for that matter...
Last night I definitely thought I had a fever so I whipped out the digital thermometer (that's right) for the first time this summer. Nope, turned out to be okay; probably just exhausted with the heat or something.
Also, I'm about to post a selection of pictures on Facebook. Let's hope the bandwidth holds up for a little bit more.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
What can brown do for you?
You know those UPS commercials in all these different exotic locales, with crisply uniformed workers, riding around on motorcycles, rickshaws, camels to deliver equally crisp UPS envelopes? Yeah, this morning, one of those envelopes was mine, speeding its way to Accra on a motorcycle (they tie the packages down to the back of the seat, lol), airmail to Amsterdam, overnight to Memphis, then home to Florida. All in four days. Man, the speed of commerce...
I was able to deploy 53 surveys today, and got a nice tour of the Port of Takoradi, which is decidedly quieter than Tema. Got to meet all sorts of cool people: the harbour master, chief pilot, master engineer, civil engineers, stevedores, tugboat captains, the Gordon's fisherman, you name it. Had to answer many questions about life in the US and at Harvard, and they were very receptive to an American coming over to research ethnicity at the ports. I even got a snazzy research clearance letter. :) Maybe I'll frame it on my wall or something.
I learned a lot about survey logistics while at Tema (i.e. put a specific collection date on it, specify categories more specifically, front/back printing) so things are going a bit smoother here. Which means I might make it back to Accra a week early so that I can take some nice overnight trips to Kumasi, Eastern Volta and maybe even Mole National Park and Tamale! An actual safari adventure complete with minibus rides over ridiculously bumpy dirt paths. Can't wait.
In other news, I specifically asked my hotel if they had washers and drying machines. They said yes. Which apparently meant no. They can handwash for me, but they hang it out to dry. Ummmm, no. I'd rather not end up with these guys. Yeah, despite what the article says, they're pretty common in Ghana, too. Looks like I'll be doing laundry out of the sink/shower for a couple of weeks. Maybe it's just me, but I think that makes fieldwork even more awesome. Or I'm just succumbing to the heat.
Also, BBC World News: still awesome. Though I'm not such a fan of their Asia Today series: the presenter has the world's heaviest Filipino accent. Even though I'm Filipino, it still sounds really annoying. Maybe it just conjures up repressed bad childhood memories or something. And then there's the Hardtalk programme, which featured interviews with the South Korean president (talking about ROK's beef with US beef) as well as FW de Klerk on Mbeki's (lack of) handling of the Mugabe situation. Actually, de Klerk just sounded kind of senile. The BBC also has this great European correspondent with the best accent ever, whose name is Bethany Bell. I think I just really like her name, actually. I guess you could say it has a good ring to it.
I was able to deploy 53 surveys today, and got a nice tour of the Port of Takoradi, which is decidedly quieter than Tema. Got to meet all sorts of cool people: the harbour master, chief pilot, master engineer, civil engineers, stevedores, tugboat captains, the Gordon's fisherman, you name it. Had to answer many questions about life in the US and at Harvard, and they were very receptive to an American coming over to research ethnicity at the ports. I even got a snazzy research clearance letter. :) Maybe I'll frame it on my wall or something.
I learned a lot about survey logistics while at Tema (i.e. put a specific collection date on it, specify categories more specifically, front/back printing) so things are going a bit smoother here. Which means I might make it back to Accra a week early so that I can take some nice overnight trips to Kumasi, Eastern Volta and maybe even Mole National Park and Tamale! An actual safari adventure complete with minibus rides over ridiculously bumpy dirt paths. Can't wait.
In other news, I specifically asked my hotel if they had washers and drying machines. They said yes. Which apparently meant no. They can handwash for me, but they hang it out to dry. Ummmm, no. I'd rather not end up with these guys. Yeah, despite what the article says, they're pretty common in Ghana, too. Looks like I'll be doing laundry out of the sink/shower for a couple of weeks. Maybe it's just me, but I think that makes fieldwork even more awesome. Or I'm just succumbing to the heat.
Also, BBC World News: still awesome. Though I'm not such a fan of their Asia Today series: the presenter has the world's heaviest Filipino accent. Even though I'm Filipino, it still sounds really annoying. Maybe it just conjures up repressed bad childhood memories or something. And then there's the Hardtalk programme, which featured interviews with the South Korean president (talking about ROK's beef with US beef) as well as FW de Klerk on Mbeki's (lack of) handling of the Mugabe situation. Actually, de Klerk just sounded kind of senile. The BBC also has this great European correspondent with the best accent ever, whose name is Bethany Bell. I think I just really like her name, actually. I guess you could say it has a good ring to it.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Research Update
So ... after that absolutely thrilling first weekend in Takoradi, I was more than ready to get back to work today. However, due to a logistical rookie mistake on my part, I had to get up super early this morning in order to switch to a less expensive hotel. The new one is decent (it's listed as a "budget" accommodation in my Africa guide, so it's somewhat run-down, but gets the job done), and it comes with AC that works when it feels like and a TV with CNN (if it's not cloudy). I think this room is more like the Good Shepherd than the previous one, so, good enough for jazz.
This morning I met with the director, personnel manager and administration manager of the Port of Takoradi, and all were really cool dudes. I chatted with the personnel guy for about an hour about the future of American foreign policy, Barack Obama and registering for the Selective Service. He definitely had his views about Ghana's future. I learned more from him about the Land Tenure Act, which I'd sort of heard about before, but apparently it's quite a big issue for the port.
Under this act, the chiefs of the different tribes own the land in Ghana, and the government and private individuals have to purchase land with their consent. I imagine this was part of a power-balance agreement to settle down ethnic tensions following the Acheampong and Rawlings regimes. So under this stability Ghana's economy has more or less flourished.
Which led me to ask about the future of the port and if there were any infrastructural improvements planned to accommodate for the oil that was just discovered. And this is where the personnel manager launched into about a 15 minute speech about the tensions between Ghana's modernity and its traditions--the chiefs around Takoradi don't want to sell any more prize coastal land to allow the port to expand and the government (for some reason) does not hold the powers of eminent domain. Which means that Takoradi, the closest port to the oil, may not gain at all from the revenues, as private companies may prefer to use Abidjan, which is in the Cote d'Ivoire (hey, the war finally "stopped" so their port is apparently usable now...).
I think this is a bit of an interesting dilemma for Ghana. The Western Region (Takoradi's national district) is already one of the richest in the country due to large gold, cocoa and manganese production, but it has to share with the rest of country, something that can cause tensions. Now if the chiefs won't allow land to be sold to expand the port (which is already losing to Tema, Ghana's other port, closer to Accra), then things might turn a bit crazy.
Did I mention that this is an election year with no incumbent?
I expected, and designed my surveys, thinking that most people in Takoradi would expect to benefit from the oil revenues. But the land issue generates some rather interesting variation. I hope to get the chance to interview workers next week, and will definitely ask about the land tenure issue.
Anyways, I received much assistance from the directors, and got the green light to start surveying 200 people this week. Craziness. I just got back from the printers where I spent an arm and a leg making copies. Oh, logistics.
Hmm, this post was a little more academic than usual. It looks like I've got Friday off, so maybe then I'll go to Cape Coast or Elmina. woot woot
This morning I met with the director, personnel manager and administration manager of the Port of Takoradi, and all were really cool dudes. I chatted with the personnel guy for about an hour about the future of American foreign policy, Barack Obama and registering for the Selective Service. He definitely had his views about Ghana's future. I learned more from him about the Land Tenure Act, which I'd sort of heard about before, but apparently it's quite a big issue for the port.
Under this act, the chiefs of the different tribes own the land in Ghana, and the government and private individuals have to purchase land with their consent. I imagine this was part of a power-balance agreement to settle down ethnic tensions following the Acheampong and Rawlings regimes. So under this stability Ghana's economy has more or less flourished.
Which led me to ask about the future of the port and if there were any infrastructural improvements planned to accommodate for the oil that was just discovered. And this is where the personnel manager launched into about a 15 minute speech about the tensions between Ghana's modernity and its traditions--the chiefs around Takoradi don't want to sell any more prize coastal land to allow the port to expand and the government (for some reason) does not hold the powers of eminent domain. Which means that Takoradi, the closest port to the oil, may not gain at all from the revenues, as private companies may prefer to use Abidjan, which is in the Cote d'Ivoire (hey, the war finally "stopped" so their port is apparently usable now...).
I think this is a bit of an interesting dilemma for Ghana. The Western Region (Takoradi's national district) is already one of the richest in the country due to large gold, cocoa and manganese production, but it has to share with the rest of country, something that can cause tensions. Now if the chiefs won't allow land to be sold to expand the port (which is already losing to Tema, Ghana's other port, closer to Accra), then things might turn a bit crazy.
Did I mention that this is an election year with no incumbent?
I expected, and designed my surveys, thinking that most people in Takoradi would expect to benefit from the oil revenues. But the land issue generates some rather interesting variation. I hope to get the chance to interview workers next week, and will definitely ask about the land tenure issue.
Anyways, I received much assistance from the directors, and got the green light to start surveying 200 people this week. Craziness. I just got back from the printers where I spent an arm and a leg making copies. Oh, logistics.
Hmm, this post was a little more academic than usual. It looks like I've got Friday off, so maybe then I'll go to Cape Coast or Elmina. woot woot
Sunday, July 6, 2008
A funny thing happened on the way to the altar
I was about to sign off, but I forgot to write about stuff from today.
Anyways, on Sundays, much of Ghana shuts down, and there's little to do but go to Church and wander around. Which is precisely what I've been doing today (but I did find the only open Internet cafe in Takoradi...woot).
It was refreshing to see that the Catholic mass (about 16% Catholic population ... biggest group!) is basically universal but with some nice local flavoring, depending on where you are. Here in Ghana, they use typical Catholic hymns, but the instrumentation and rhythm is of a very African style and feel. Music in southern Ghana is very percussive, so choirs--in addition to the organ--are accompanied by traditional drums, tambourines, lots of clapping, etc.
Much of the mass is quite similar, but one notable difference, which I also noticed at the Methodist service I attended two weeks ago, is that the offertory (money) collection is done in a special way. Here in Ghana, Akan tradition (the umbrella ethnicity that characterizes half the population, including Ashanti, Fanti, Akuapem groups, etc.) holds that children are named according to the day of the week on which they were born, a system that supposedly can also predict a person's character and what not. Since I was born on Wednesday, I would be called Kweku (my assistant is also a Wednesday, so we call each other Thomas Kweku and Joe Kweku, good stuff).
For offertory rather than passing the basket pew by pew, the congregation goes up to two central baskets at the foot of the altar according to the day they were born, and of course there's lots of singing and clapping, with people dancing on the way back to their seats. And this is a Catholic service! Anyways, I definitely stuck out in the crowd (you know, the American accent), but dutifully went up when Wednesdays were called up.
But next week, I think I will be daring and introduce myself to more people. How? Well, when they call the Wednesdays I can just be like, "Hey Kweku, what's up?", or for Fridays, "What's shakin', Kofi?" I could meet like 40 people like that. I mean, you know the names of all the people who are going up there (and consequently, their income level...), so it could work.
Aside: at the end of mass they announce how much each day group donated. I think it'd be interesting to do an economic study on churches here to see if the Akan belief about people's characteristics corresponding to their birth day holds up with donation evidence--and if it holds across different religions. Mmmm economic anthropology. Maybe for a different paper ...
Anyways, on Sundays, much of Ghana shuts down, and there's little to do but go to Church and wander around. Which is precisely what I've been doing today (but I did find the only open Internet cafe in Takoradi...woot).
It was refreshing to see that the Catholic mass (about 16% Catholic population ... biggest group!) is basically universal but with some nice local flavoring, depending on where you are. Here in Ghana, they use typical Catholic hymns, but the instrumentation and rhythm is of a very African style and feel. Music in southern Ghana is very percussive, so choirs--in addition to the organ--are accompanied by traditional drums, tambourines, lots of clapping, etc.
Much of the mass is quite similar, but one notable difference, which I also noticed at the Methodist service I attended two weeks ago, is that the offertory (money) collection is done in a special way. Here in Ghana, Akan tradition (the umbrella ethnicity that characterizes half the population, including Ashanti, Fanti, Akuapem groups, etc.) holds that children are named according to the day of the week on which they were born, a system that supposedly can also predict a person's character and what not. Since I was born on Wednesday, I would be called Kweku (my assistant is also a Wednesday, so we call each other Thomas Kweku and Joe Kweku, good stuff).
For offertory rather than passing the basket pew by pew, the congregation goes up to two central baskets at the foot of the altar according to the day they were born, and of course there's lots of singing and clapping, with people dancing on the way back to their seats. And this is a Catholic service! Anyways, I definitely stuck out in the crowd (you know, the American accent), but dutifully went up when Wednesdays were called up.
But next week, I think I will be daring and introduce myself to more people. How? Well, when they call the Wednesdays I can just be like, "Hey Kweku, what's up?", or for Fridays, "What's shakin', Kofi?" I could meet like 40 people like that. I mean, you know the names of all the people who are going up there (and consequently, their income level...), so it could work.
Aside: at the end of mass they announce how much each day group donated. I think it'd be interesting to do an economic study on churches here to see if the Akan belief about people's characteristics corresponding to their birth day holds up with donation evidence--and if it holds across different religions. Mmmm economic anthropology. Maybe for a different paper ...
Follow the obruni rabbit ...
My last post ended with me saying that I'd be heading off to the Africa Beach Resort for a nice European meal (mmm spaghetti bolognaise) as well as some Guinness Foreign Extra with live music. Well I got the first two...
The Bradt guide describes the Africa Beach Resort in Takoradi as a very upmarket accommodation, popular with businessmen and the well-heeled crowd, and well known for its "large" swimming pool and African bungalows on the beach. Well the pool was about the size of a US backyard pool and the decor left something to be desired, but, hey, it's Africa, so I've been able to adjust my expectations.
But my expectations did not predict that the place would be absolutely teeming with prostitutes. I had just gotten out of the cab and hadn't even entered the resort when some girl, maybe like 16-17, who was maybe like 30% dressed tried to chat with me while pulling up her skirt. It was a bit ... weird.
Anyways, I sit down to order food, which is supposedly quite excellent here (according to the Bradt guide), but I'm told to sit in this special tiki hut/gazebo section with the other foreigners, who consisted of these two older German dudes, who, from the sound of the English parts of their conversations, worked for a gold company in the Ashanti region (aside: these gold companies are a hot political topic given that they are destroying much fertile land for cocoa without proper domestic compensation. Yeahh...).
At first I just thought these German guys were working with/having dinner with a couple of female Ghanaian associates or something. Nope, they were hookers. I was sitting by myself watching the surf, hoping to be left alone.
Enter Alice.
Alice: Do you have something nice for me?
Me: What?
Alice: What is your name?
Me: Ummmm, John. (I did not realize the irony of this name choice at the time, but now it seems appropriately hilarious.)
Alice: Ooooh, that's a nice name. I'm Alice.
Me: Uhhh ... it's nice to meet you, too.
Alice: So do you have something nice for me?
Me: Ummm, no.
(awkward silence)
Yeah, so she ends up sitting at my table for like 10 minutes while I finish up eating. And then:
Me: Uhhh, waiter, I'd like the bill, please.
Alice: Oh, well I should go freshen up, then.
(she starts to leave)
Me: Waiter, keep the change. Alice, it was nice to meet you.
And that's where I decided to bail (and because a cab had just pulled up, thank God). Anyways, that was my first attempt at finding something social to do in Takoradi on my own, and it was a bit more than I expected. I got back to my hotel around 9pm, just wanting to watch BBC World News (thank God for the BBC). I suppose I'm here to do fieldwork so if my nightly entertainment consists of BBC programming (hey, at least it's intellectual, right?), then I guess I'm cool with that.
Of course, on the weekends, it appears that the BBC doesn't come on (many hotels in Ghana have South African dish network) until after the (apparently free...) South African porn is finished up. Par for the course, I suppose.
What a night ...
The Bradt guide describes the Africa Beach Resort in Takoradi as a very upmarket accommodation, popular with businessmen and the well-heeled crowd, and well known for its "large" swimming pool and African bungalows on the beach. Well the pool was about the size of a US backyard pool and the decor left something to be desired, but, hey, it's Africa, so I've been able to adjust my expectations.
But my expectations did not predict that the place would be absolutely teeming with prostitutes. I had just gotten out of the cab and hadn't even entered the resort when some girl, maybe like 16-17, who was maybe like 30% dressed tried to chat with me while pulling up her skirt. It was a bit ... weird.
Anyways, I sit down to order food, which is supposedly quite excellent here (according to the Bradt guide), but I'm told to sit in this special tiki hut/gazebo section with the other foreigners, who consisted of these two older German dudes, who, from the sound of the English parts of their conversations, worked for a gold company in the Ashanti region (aside: these gold companies are a hot political topic given that they are destroying much fertile land for cocoa without proper domestic compensation. Yeahh...).
At first I just thought these German guys were working with/having dinner with a couple of female Ghanaian associates or something. Nope, they were hookers. I was sitting by myself watching the surf, hoping to be left alone.
Enter Alice.
Alice: Do you have something nice for me?
Me: What?
Alice: What is your name?
Me: Ummmm, John. (I did not realize the irony of this name choice at the time, but now it seems appropriately hilarious.)
Alice: Ooooh, that's a nice name. I'm Alice.
Me: Uhhh ... it's nice to meet you, too.
Alice: So do you have something nice for me?
Me: Ummm, no.
(awkward silence)
Yeah, so she ends up sitting at my table for like 10 minutes while I finish up eating. And then:
Me: Uhhh, waiter, I'd like the bill, please.
Alice: Oh, well I should go freshen up, then.
(she starts to leave)
Me: Waiter, keep the change. Alice, it was nice to meet you.
And that's where I decided to bail (and because a cab had just pulled up, thank God). Anyways, that was my first attempt at finding something social to do in Takoradi on my own, and it was a bit more than I expected. I got back to my hotel around 9pm, just wanting to watch BBC World News (thank God for the BBC). I suppose I'm here to do fieldwork so if my nightly entertainment consists of BBC programming (hey, at least it's intellectual, right?), then I guess I'm cool with that.
Of course, on the weekends, it appears that the BBC doesn't come on (many hotels in Ghana have South African dish network) until after the (apparently free...) South African porn is finished up. Par for the course, I suppose.
What a night ...
Carla Bruni would be really popular here
(This was supposed to be published yesterday...)
This is a short update, as I've only got about 12 min at the cafe.
Today I got to explore much of the center of Takoradi--the city is so fast-paced
and yet at the same time, very relaxed. Though I did get a few "obruni" (the
"o" is basically silent, hence the title of the post), it was mostly done in a
very friendly manner, with everyone one wanting to know where I came from. As
I mentioned yesterday, at the center of the city is a circular market: there's
a street going around it aptly called Market St. with the outer ring of the
circle being a two-story building that is penetrated by only a few small
entrances to the "interior". I decided to venture into the interior today.
It was incredible: dirty, smelly, mud paths about 2 feet wide, clothes (think
Buffalo Bills Super Bowl champion gear ... yeah...) on lines, rusted bicycles,
children running around everywhere, but at the same time, it was somewhat
serene. A fully African market experience. I entered through the fish market
section, which was quite possibly one of the worst smelling experiences of my
life, but I survived and made my way around. A couple old women tried selling
aluminium cookware to me, but I made some brief Twi conversation with them,
which they found highly entertaining. I think after a few more trips in I'll
start becoming a regular institution there, which will hopefully allow me to
snap some photos without making me feel like an intruder.
I also checked out another hotel right across from the Market, oddly called the
You 84, and have decided that I'll be living there for most of my time in
Takoradi. It's a bit cheaper than the Super Star, but the rooms were actually
nicer, it has laundry/grocery/restaurant and is even close to the
market/action. My room at the Super Star is right across from a place selling
huge speakers (which also seems to be a charismatic church/bar/nightclub?), so
my room is constantly shaking with the bass. Which I thought I could get used
to. But I think I'd rather just get some normal sleep. Ahhh almost out of
time.
Tonight I'm off to the African Beach Resort in South Takoradi for some live
African music/dancing, a nice Continental meal and a Guinness Foreign Extra.
The perfect West African evening right there.
This is a short update, as I've only got about 12 min at the cafe.
Today I got to explore much of the center of Takoradi--the city is so fast-paced
and yet at the same time, very relaxed. Though I did get a few "obruni" (the
"o" is basically silent, hence the title of the post), it was mostly done in a
very friendly manner, with everyone one wanting to know where I came from. As
I mentioned yesterday, at the center of the city is a circular market: there's
a street going around it aptly called Market St. with the outer ring of the
circle being a two-story building that is penetrated by only a few small
entrances to the "interior". I decided to venture into the interior today.
It was incredible: dirty, smelly, mud paths about 2 feet wide, clothes (think
Buffalo Bills Super Bowl champion gear ... yeah...) on lines, rusted bicycles,
children running around everywhere, but at the same time, it was somewhat
serene. A fully African market experience. I entered through the fish market
section, which was quite possibly one of the worst smelling experiences of my
life, but I survived and made my way around. A couple old women tried selling
aluminium cookware to me, but I made some brief Twi conversation with them,
which they found highly entertaining. I think after a few more trips in I'll
start becoming a regular institution there, which will hopefully allow me to
snap some photos without making me feel like an intruder.
I also checked out another hotel right across from the Market, oddly called the
You 84, and have decided that I'll be living there for most of my time in
Takoradi. It's a bit cheaper than the Super Star, but the rooms were actually
nicer, it has laundry/grocery/restaurant and is even close to the
market/action. My room at the Super Star is right across from a place selling
huge speakers (which also seems to be a charismatic church/bar/nightclub?), so
my room is constantly shaking with the bass. Which I thought I could get used
to. But I think I'd rather just get some normal sleep. Ahhh almost out of
time.
Tonight I'm off to the African Beach Resort in South Takoradi for some live
African music/dancing, a nice Continental meal and a Guinness Foreign Extra.
The perfect West African evening right there.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Never Ghana Run Around and Desert You
(This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but I was having Internet issues...)
Unless it means I get to go to Takoradi. I think if I harvested all the Ghana puns from that Rick Astley song, I'd be set for the summer. Greetings from Ghana's only twin city: Sekondi-Takoradi! I've only been here for part of an afternoon, but am already liking it more than Accra. The city is very compact, and things are very close to each other. It's very much the urban African experience--they've got a huge circular market right in the middle of the city, there are taxis and tro-tros competing with pedestrians for space everywhere and sidewalks are about a foot wide as vendors have crammed in all around. It's amazing out here. My hotel (the Super Star) is situated right above one of the main roads and I can hear the sounds of Takoradi very well in my room. Also, I will be taking my first hot shower in 3 weeks tonight. That's worthy of its own blog post right there.
Speaking of my hotel, it reminds me of the Matt Damon movie, the Good Shepherd, namely the hotel scene with his son and the KGB agent. My room is basically like that one: dark, small, African-style shutters, sounds of the street flowing in. I've only seen one other "obruni" around, and that was at the grocery store (which, by the way, was fairly Western). I'm so relieved not to be attracting as much negative attention as could be the norm in Accra--people here are very friendly and my rudimentary Twi is drawing lots of smiles. :) I also think my Royal Bank of Canada hat gives me some semblance of authority as well, so people may not harass me as much. Haha, someone in the internet cafe just asked me if I were Chinese or Japanese; not sure if they got the "Philippines" part. Oh well. Close enough, right? I've just realized that this post is going to go in a somewhat reverse chronological order. This morning I took the STC bus from Accra West station--it took about 90 minutes to get there because of all the morning traffic. Ironically the taxi ride there cost more than the actual bus fare (12 cedis vs. 8), but the bus was an adventure in itself. The Bradt guide promised us blaring Nigerian movies on the ride, which I was kind of looking forward to--until I realized that the guide was not underestimating the grating, high-pitched screeching that characterizes these movies. I think Nigerian actresses are judged according to the decibel count of their wailing. Yeah, didn't get very much sleep on the bus.
Which meant that I was able to enjoy much of the gorgeous scenery along Ghana's coast. I couldn't take pictures, though, because the bus was screen-painted with NPP slogans so the windows were not conducive for photos. I think the best part was the ruins of the Dutch Fort of Good Hope (ironically named given its history with slavery), which commands the top of this cliff over the ocean just before--I believe--the town of Winneba. It was absolutely stunning, and you could see the steps carved into the cliffside to get to the top. I'll have to try and visit it when I get back to Accra.
I've scheduled thesis-related meetings with the Takoradi port directors for Monday morning, so I'll get to explore more of the city over the weekend. Maybe even go to the beach. I also think I'll check out other accommodations around here, but I'm now feeling quite attached to the Good Shepherd, I mean, Super Star, Hotel.
Also, the kid across from me is playing Age of Empires III here in the internet cafe. Only like my favourite game ever.
Unless it means I get to go to Takoradi. I think if I harvested all the Ghana puns from that Rick Astley song, I'd be set for the summer. Greetings from Ghana's only twin city: Sekondi-Takoradi! I've only been here for part of an afternoon, but am already liking it more than Accra. The city is very compact, and things are very close to each other. It's very much the urban African experience--they've got a huge circular market right in the middle of the city, there are taxis and tro-tros competing with pedestrians for space everywhere and sidewalks are about a foot wide as vendors have crammed in all around. It's amazing out here. My hotel (the Super Star) is situated right above one of the main roads and I can hear the sounds of Takoradi very well in my room. Also, I will be taking my first hot shower in 3 weeks tonight. That's worthy of its own blog post right there.
Speaking of my hotel, it reminds me of the Matt Damon movie, the Good Shepherd, namely the hotel scene with his son and the KGB agent. My room is basically like that one: dark, small, African-style shutters, sounds of the street flowing in. I've only seen one other "obruni" around, and that was at the grocery store (which, by the way, was fairly Western). I'm so relieved not to be attracting as much negative attention as could be the norm in Accra--people here are very friendly and my rudimentary Twi is drawing lots of smiles. :) I also think my Royal Bank of Canada hat gives me some semblance of authority as well, so people may not harass me as much. Haha, someone in the internet cafe just asked me if I were Chinese or Japanese; not sure if they got the "Philippines" part. Oh well. Close enough, right? I've just realized that this post is going to go in a somewhat reverse chronological order. This morning I took the STC bus from Accra West station--it took about 90 minutes to get there because of all the morning traffic. Ironically the taxi ride there cost more than the actual bus fare (12 cedis vs. 8), but the bus was an adventure in itself. The Bradt guide promised us blaring Nigerian movies on the ride, which I was kind of looking forward to--until I realized that the guide was not underestimating the grating, high-pitched screeching that characterizes these movies. I think Nigerian actresses are judged according to the decibel count of their wailing. Yeah, didn't get very much sleep on the bus.
Which meant that I was able to enjoy much of the gorgeous scenery along Ghana's coast. I couldn't take pictures, though, because the bus was screen-painted with NPP slogans so the windows were not conducive for photos. I think the best part was the ruins of the Dutch Fort of Good Hope (ironically named given its history with slavery), which commands the top of this cliff over the ocean just before--I believe--the town of Winneba. It was absolutely stunning, and you could see the steps carved into the cliffside to get to the top. I'll have to try and visit it when I get back to Accra.
I've scheduled thesis-related meetings with the Takoradi port directors for Monday morning, so I'll get to explore more of the city over the weekend. Maybe even go to the beach. I also think I'll check out other accommodations around here, but I'm now feeling quite attached to the Good Shepherd, I mean, Super Star, Hotel.
Also, the kid across from me is playing Age of Empires III here in the internet cafe. Only like my favourite game ever.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Yo quiero Takoradi Bell
So I've been spending most of today running random errands (ahhh, that originally said errors ... too much R and Stata last night...) in preparation for my departure to Sekondi-Takoradi. I made about 12 phone calls this morning to contacts in Cape Coast and Takoradi who can help me deploy my surveys/could be generally helpful with my thesis. Having to make all those calls really makes me appreciate how we can just e-mail about appointments back in the US. Guess I'm getting a taste of real, old-fashioned fieldwork. But it's also kind of cool doing "cutting edge" statistical analysis out here in Equatorial West Africa. Or maybe the heat's just getting to me.
I also started mailing the pilot surveys back home today. Ghana Post leaves much to be desired (like flat-rate boxes, and larger stamps), but I've heard it's generally reliable, and not too expensive. The only thing is, they only seem to have stamps denominated in 25 (for letters) and 40 (for postcards) pesewas. So when I bring in envelopes holding 100 pages' worth of surveys that amount to 7-10 cedis (1 cedi = 100 pesewas), I'm getting like 28-40 stamps on an envelope. Yeah, these things definitely look absurd, with stamps going all the way around the addressing part and what not.
Which makes me wonder: Maybe they should just make envelopes out of the stamps? I mean, Jerry Seinfeld makes a great point on a (in my opinion) similar phenomenon:
Jerry: You ever notice how the only thing that ever survives the plane crash is the black box? They should just make the entire plane out of the black box!
Seriously, I think the envelope made out of stamps has potential. It can go places. Literally. And you'd save some trees.
Anyways, I'm off to Takoradi early tomorrow morning! I'm definitely excited for a change of scenery--Accra is exciting and all, but staying on the outskirts is kind of a drag with transportation. Takoradi is very compact, and I'll be staying right on the market circle. The ultimate African urban experience right there. Will update again once I've settled in.
I also started mailing the pilot surveys back home today. Ghana Post leaves much to be desired (like flat-rate boxes, and larger stamps), but I've heard it's generally reliable, and not too expensive. The only thing is, they only seem to have stamps denominated in 25 (for letters) and 40 (for postcards) pesewas. So when I bring in envelopes holding 100 pages' worth of surveys that amount to 7-10 cedis (1 cedi = 100 pesewas), I'm getting like 28-40 stamps on an envelope. Yeah, these things definitely look absurd, with stamps going all the way around the addressing part and what not.
Which makes me wonder: Maybe they should just make envelopes out of the stamps? I mean, Jerry Seinfeld makes a great point on a (in my opinion) similar phenomenon:
Jerry: You ever notice how the only thing that ever survives the plane crash is the black box? They should just make the entire plane out of the black box!
Seriously, I think the envelope made out of stamps has potential. It can go places. Literally. And you'd save some trees.
Anyways, I'm off to Takoradi early tomorrow morning! I'm definitely excited for a change of scenery--Accra is exciting and all, but staying on the outskirts is kind of a drag with transportation. Takoradi is very compact, and I'll be staying right on the market circle. The ultimate African urban experience right there. Will update again once I've settled in.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Tro-tro your hands up
So Tuesday was Ghana's Republic Day, kind of like our Fourth of July. Basically the entire country shut down, and watched the President's Football Cup match between Asante Kotoko and Heart of Lions, which apparently was much more exciting than Ghana-Gabon. Ahhh, should've gone.
But anyways, I'd hoped to do my laundry yesterday (I have like 2 pairs of pants only ...). Nope, closed. Food? Mmm Pizza Inn was open! Yeah, definitely a bit of a disruption to my plans.
Luckily today I was able to get some laundry done. Seriously, when you sweat 24/7 through your clothes in addition to applying insect repellent to it, you start to appreciate having some clean stuff to wear. Also, my guidebook warns me against drying my clothes outside. Apparently there are these microscopic worms that love laying their eggs in drying laundry, so that when you put on your clothes, the wormlings burrow through your skin--but you can't feel it--and start to migrate around your body over the course of several weeks. They lay more eggs in different tissues within your body, though they seem to prefer your liver and brain. Once these guys hatch, the excruciating pain begins as they tunnel towards your skin to break free. Lovely. Supposedly you need to catch them when they first burrow in: you apply Vaseline over their initial air holes, which forces them to come up for air, which is when you can pluck them out with tweezers.
Or you could just pay extra to use the dryer.
I also found out today that my research assistant is awesome. He's an MPhil candidate in Social Psych (yeah, he's older than me ... kinda crazy), and just found out that he'll be studying for a semester at Carleton in Ottawa on full scholarship next semester! Will definitely have to visit him. He also really knows his way around Tema and the tro-tros, which has been an excellent help to me. And today he introduced me to these special Ghanaian peanuts (ahhhh, wish I could remember the name), which we bought from one of the tro-tro station vendors:
Thomas: Joe Kweku (my Akan name), you must really try these boiled peanuts. They are a Ghanaian speciality.
Me: Ummm, okay. (munch munch) Hmmm, they're pretty good, actually.
Thomas: Oh yes, they are excellent. They will also give you extra virility so you can pick up lots of American girls.
Oh, that Thomas. Worth every pesewa.
He also knows the CEO of a small Ghanaian oil company (wooo thesis question at the ready!), and we got to chill out with that guy for about an hour this afternoon. We even go to ride in these fancy, air-conditioned company cars. Good stuff. He was incredibly animated in his hatred towards Jerry Rawlings and the NDC (the current opposition), which was hilarious considering that Thomas is an NDC supporter. So we talked about American democracy and the atrocities of the Rawlings regime for a bit (quite a bit of graphic detail), which was definitely cool.
In the (company) car ride to Tema's market (which is right on the Prime Meridian! I think I've mentioned how cool that is like 10 times), we listened to this crazy rap song about cocaine invading Ghana. Some clutch lines:
"Ghana got more cocaine than mosquitoes."
"The chiefs of Ghana, are sitting on-nah,
parcel of coca."
Just priceless.
Emma, Esther and I just returned from dinner, and had hoped to go to the Alliance Francaise for a cultural show. But the cabbie wouldn't budge from 6 cedis, which is enough to go all the way in to Accra (the AF is not very far from us). So instead I came to the internet cafe.
One more day in Accra, then off to Takoradi!
But anyways, I'd hoped to do my laundry yesterday (I have like 2 pairs of pants only ...). Nope, closed. Food? Mmm Pizza Inn was open! Yeah, definitely a bit of a disruption to my plans.
Luckily today I was able to get some laundry done. Seriously, when you sweat 24/7 through your clothes in addition to applying insect repellent to it, you start to appreciate having some clean stuff to wear. Also, my guidebook warns me against drying my clothes outside. Apparently there are these microscopic worms that love laying their eggs in drying laundry, so that when you put on your clothes, the wormlings burrow through your skin--but you can't feel it--and start to migrate around your body over the course of several weeks. They lay more eggs in different tissues within your body, though they seem to prefer your liver and brain. Once these guys hatch, the excruciating pain begins as they tunnel towards your skin to break free. Lovely. Supposedly you need to catch them when they first burrow in: you apply Vaseline over their initial air holes, which forces them to come up for air, which is when you can pluck them out with tweezers.
Or you could just pay extra to use the dryer.
I also found out today that my research assistant is awesome. He's an MPhil candidate in Social Psych (yeah, he's older than me ... kinda crazy), and just found out that he'll be studying for a semester at Carleton in Ottawa on full scholarship next semester! Will definitely have to visit him. He also really knows his way around Tema and the tro-tros, which has been an excellent help to me. And today he introduced me to these special Ghanaian peanuts (ahhhh, wish I could remember the name), which we bought from one of the tro-tro station vendors:
Thomas: Joe Kweku (my Akan name), you must really try these boiled peanuts. They are a Ghanaian speciality.
Me: Ummm, okay. (munch munch) Hmmm, they're pretty good, actually.
Thomas: Oh yes, they are excellent. They will also give you extra virility so you can pick up lots of American girls.
Oh, that Thomas. Worth every pesewa.
He also knows the CEO of a small Ghanaian oil company (wooo thesis question at the ready!), and we got to chill out with that guy for about an hour this afternoon. We even go to ride in these fancy, air-conditioned company cars. Good stuff. He was incredibly animated in his hatred towards Jerry Rawlings and the NDC (the current opposition), which was hilarious considering that Thomas is an NDC supporter. So we talked about American democracy and the atrocities of the Rawlings regime for a bit (quite a bit of graphic detail), which was definitely cool.
In the (company) car ride to Tema's market (which is right on the Prime Meridian! I think I've mentioned how cool that is like 10 times), we listened to this crazy rap song about cocaine invading Ghana. Some clutch lines:
"Ghana got more cocaine than mosquitoes."
"The chiefs of Ghana, are sitting on-nah,
parcel of coca."
Just priceless.
Emma, Esther and I just returned from dinner, and had hoped to go to the Alliance Francaise for a cultural show. But the cabbie wouldn't budge from 6 cedis, which is enough to go all the way in to Accra (the AF is not very far from us). So instead I came to the internet cafe.
One more day in Accra, then off to Takoradi!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Whatcha Ghana Do When They Come For You?
Sunday
So I tried to go to church Sunday morning, which turned out to be a slightly more arduous endeavour than expected. First off, this church is all the way on the other side of campus, about a 25 minute's walk right there--and it was 97 degrees outside. At freaking 8am. I think if I had gotten there on my knees it would've been a bona fide pilgrimage. And then I learned that mass was actually at 9am. After burning about 1000 calories I didn't really feel like waiting for an hour, so I hung out for a bit, made an offertory donation and then headed home without going to mass.
Judging by the rest of the day, I probably should have gone to mass.
That afternoon, Emma, Esther and I decided to head into Accra to check out a show at the National Theatre as well as the National Cultural Centre and Independence Square. Because I'm lazy, I'm just going to point you here, for a description of events. And because Emma's a better writer than me.
The National Cultural Centre (really just a huge arts & crafts market) was borderline absurd. Before we even got inside the gate, vendors were harassing us to look at their stuff. They are relentless, and they all want to be your madanfo (friend). Ahhhhh. I'm not a big fan of getting pushed around, but we decided to give one of the guys a chance. Turns out I scored some free African drum lessons, which was pretty awesome, and got to look at some nice handmade wooden Ashanti masks and carvings. Turns out I can bargain down a medium-sized drum from 100 to 20 cedis. :) I'm going to have to buy a second suitcase to bring back the stuff I'm getting. Totally worth it.
After escaping from the National Cultural Centre, we decided to walk down to Independence Square, where there's a collection of Soviet-era statues (think Goldeneye) as well as the Flame of African Liberation, lit by Kwame Nkrumah himself.
We didn't quite make it there.
Maybe 300 metres from the entrance, the three of us start getting followed by these two young (maybe 12-13 years old) boys. I don't really think too much of it, as they're keeping their distance and we're on a main road.
And then it became like something out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Two more kids joined them. Then a few guys. Probably a few dogs and cats. Then more guys. Until we're being followed/surrounded by around 12-15 people. The creepiest part was that everyone was totally silent and just staring blankly. No catcalls, no cries of "obruni" (white person). At this point, we decide to hail a cab back to Legon, which luckily came to our rescue not a second too soon. And then it looked like the crowd was about to hail a cab of their own!! No joke! But they didn't get into anyone and we were able to get back safely. But seriously, this was in the middle of Accra in broad daylight! Craziness.
That night we went to the Paloma Hotel for some nice food and live jazz, which was pretty cool. Some of our people watched the Euro 2008 final (woooo Spain!), and we headed back around 9pm or so. Sure enough, one of cabbies didn't have his license, so half of us had to switch cabs at the gate. Typical.
Seemed like a normal enough night, right? Until we found out upon returning at the hostel that two people from a different delegation had been ROBBED AT GUNPOINT. Right on the university campus! They lost lots of important stuff, and we were (and still are) quite on edge. Oh man. Luckily they complied, and weren't hurt. :( Never a dull moment in Legon.
Monday
Today was fairly productive. I mailed off some postcards :), and set off for Tema Port around 10am. I was able to retrieve 38 of 41 pilot surveys, and it looks like I'm getting some decent variation in responses. Good stuff. I'll start some of the analysis today (read: relearning ordered probit...), so that stuff is going well. Though I wasn't too happy about spending 8 hours in Tema for one set of surveys, and swallowing like a pound of dust during my tro-tro adventures. Oh well, all part of the experience. :)
I'm off to Takoradi on Friday! woot woot
Oh, and the Canadians left early this morning for a village in the North. I miss them already :(.
So I tried to go to church Sunday morning, which turned out to be a slightly more arduous endeavour than expected. First off, this church is all the way on the other side of campus, about a 25 minute's walk right there--and it was 97 degrees outside. At freaking 8am. I think if I had gotten there on my knees it would've been a bona fide pilgrimage. And then I learned that mass was actually at 9am. After burning about 1000 calories I didn't really feel like waiting for an hour, so I hung out for a bit, made an offertory donation and then headed home without going to mass.
Judging by the rest of the day, I probably should have gone to mass.
That afternoon, Emma, Esther and I decided to head into Accra to check out a show at the National Theatre as well as the National Cultural Centre and Independence Square. Because I'm lazy, I'm just going to point you here, for a description of events. And because Emma's a better writer than me.
The National Cultural Centre (really just a huge arts & crafts market) was borderline absurd. Before we even got inside the gate, vendors were harassing us to look at their stuff. They are relentless, and they all want to be your madanfo (friend). Ahhhhh. I'm not a big fan of getting pushed around, but we decided to give one of the guys a chance. Turns out I scored some free African drum lessons, which was pretty awesome, and got to look at some nice handmade wooden Ashanti masks and carvings. Turns out I can bargain down a medium-sized drum from 100 to 20 cedis. :) I'm going to have to buy a second suitcase to bring back the stuff I'm getting. Totally worth it.
After escaping from the National Cultural Centre, we decided to walk down to Independence Square, where there's a collection of Soviet-era statues (think Goldeneye) as well as the Flame of African Liberation, lit by Kwame Nkrumah himself.
We didn't quite make it there.
Maybe 300 metres from the entrance, the three of us start getting followed by these two young (maybe 12-13 years old) boys. I don't really think too much of it, as they're keeping their distance and we're on a main road.
And then it became like something out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Two more kids joined them. Then a few guys. Probably a few dogs and cats. Then more guys. Until we're being followed/surrounded by around 12-15 people. The creepiest part was that everyone was totally silent and just staring blankly. No catcalls, no cries of "obruni" (white person). At this point, we decide to hail a cab back to Legon, which luckily came to our rescue not a second too soon. And then it looked like the crowd was about to hail a cab of their own!! No joke! But they didn't get into anyone and we were able to get back safely. But seriously, this was in the middle of Accra in broad daylight! Craziness.
That night we went to the Paloma Hotel for some nice food and live jazz, which was pretty cool. Some of our people watched the Euro 2008 final (woooo Spain!), and we headed back around 9pm or so. Sure enough, one of cabbies didn't have his license, so half of us had to switch cabs at the gate. Typical.
Seemed like a normal enough night, right? Until we found out upon returning at the hostel that two people from a different delegation had been ROBBED AT GUNPOINT. Right on the university campus! They lost lots of important stuff, and we were (and still are) quite on edge. Oh man. Luckily they complied, and weren't hurt. :( Never a dull moment in Legon.
Monday
Today was fairly productive. I mailed off some postcards :), and set off for Tema Port around 10am. I was able to retrieve 38 of 41 pilot surveys, and it looks like I'm getting some decent variation in responses. Good stuff. I'll start some of the analysis today (read: relearning ordered probit...), so that stuff is going well. Though I wasn't too happy about spending 8 hours in Tema for one set of surveys, and swallowing like a pound of dust during my tro-tro adventures. Oh well, all part of the experience. :)
I'm off to Takoradi on Friday! woot woot
Oh, and the Canadians left early this morning for a village in the North. I miss them already :(.
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