Ghana Pics

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Whisper to their souls to go

This Saturday I'll be off again to West Africa, arriving in Accra on Sunday and then in Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire by Tuesday. That's right, my research will be taking me to a new country, just west of Ghana, and I'm certainly excited by the prospect of seeing if the money I spent on the first two levels of Rosetta Stone French will actually pay off. (I'm also excited to see a new country.) I should be in Abidjan for 2-3 weeks, and then I'll be back to Ghana until mid-April working on another research project.

Of course, a new tour of Africa necessitates new gear--my more astute readers will note that this post comes right after the post-holidays sales...

First, Rosetta Stone, to enable me to communicate/ask where the bathroom is in French while in Cote d'Ivoire. RS is a clever program. It comes with speech recognition and all sorts of fancy pictures to aid one in learning a language. So clever, in fact, that I am convinced that the software is pre-programmed to identify which syllables in French will be most difficult for me to pronounce; ironically, many of these are true cognates, on which I shall elaborate below.

Nonetheless, RS is not entirely fool-proof, and I have found some gaps in their translations.

For example:

Les eleves d'ecole primaire aiment les sciences. = [look for the Asian kids]

Ce temps est le pire. = The weather is really bad. [look for the flying cows from Twister.]

Il joue du piano le mieux. = [look for the Asian kid]

Some exercises are less obvious, such as those that show you a picture and have you speak the caption. This exercise is hard in that the possibilities for the caption (as with New Yorker cartoons) are endless:

[Photo: Man eating alone at restaurant]

Me: "Uhhhh, l'homme dine a la restaurant ... ?"

[minor third chimes indicating incorrect answer]

Me: "Uhhhhh, l'homm--"

[minor third]

Me: "What the ..."

Answer that flashes on screen: "La femme est en retard." [The woman is late.]

Seriously? Wow.

Most of the time my microphone picks up what I say and it registers it correctly on the screen. There are however some glaring deficiencies--partly my own, but in my opinion partly the software's--with certain (mono-)syllables of the French language. Primarily,

bleu = blue
voiture = car
chaussure = shoe
d'Australie = from Australia
professeur = professor

For some reason, I often can't hit the right frequencies for these words. And this is where one gets ... Rosetta Stoned.

Speaking exercise, you will here three sample sentences. Please repeat the final sentence:

(1) La fille veut un chat. [The girl wants a cat.]

(2) Le garcon chante bien. [The boy sings well.]

(3, my turn) Le professeur d'Australie veut acheter une nouveau voiture bleu. Il ne porte pas des chaussures. (non sequitir? you get the point) The Australian professor wants to buy a new blue car. He does not wear shoes.

It feels something like this:



In actuality, RS has been great for teaching me French in the past six weeks, and I would recommend it. Especially with all those hidden gems.

I'm currently in packing mode right now. Much of today was spent figuring out how to re-treat my mosquito net with permethrin. I thought that would be a simple task. But, no, those instructions are remarkably difficult to find online. All these formulas you have to abide by ... and they don't really sell permethrin at high concentrations in individual-sized amounts. I mean, if it's that hard for me to figure out how to re-treat a net, then what's it like for the people in Africa who need it day in and day out? I ended up concocting a watered-down version with Sawyer's Permethrin solution for clothing, which has left my garage with hints of toxicity. Apparently it's also highly toxic to cats, and since none of my neighbors' cats have died on my lawn (yet), I think we'll be fine. Will it work in Africa? Perhaps, at least for a little while, right?

Je ne sais pas.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Give Me a Break

Fairtrade British Kit Kat. Image sourced from this Guardian article.


Apologies for the lack of posts over this past month--I spent much of November travelling up the East Coast visiting friends and family and basically just relaxing after five months in the field. It was good. However, I intend to get back to reporting on Ghana and fair trade now. Though, as I told someone earlier today, my blog should now be called "Out of West Florida", though that's not quite as exciting as "Out of West Africa." So it goes.

On Monday, approximately 23482301283.21 of my friends alerted me to the fact that Nestle was switching its line of British Kit Kats to Fairtrade. You know who you are. This barrage of e-mails--many of which arrived before I woke up that morning--has led me to believe that my friends now think of me whenever they see fair-trade or organically certified chocolate. Excellent. I, for one, cannot walk through a Whole Foods or a Wal-Mart (that covers the whole spectrum of grocery choice, right?) without nosing through the chocolate section, perusing the various organic, fairtrade, rainforest-friendly, we-love-the-insert-cause-here lines of chocolates. But I digress.

This is exciting news, nonetheless. In case you don't believe me, look at all these outlets covering the story:

The Guardian

Times of London

BBC News

Wall Street Journal

Nestle sources much of its chocolate from Cote d'Ivoire, a country to which I will be travelling in January. Cote d'Ivoire's cocoa system is set up quite differently from Ghana's, and the country's political situation is a bit more fractious--as a result, the cooperatives formed from this fairtrade switchover could have significant implications for democracy in Cote d'Ivoire. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Update: Please see comments below for Mike Brady's perspective on Nestle's fairtrade Kit Kat announcement.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Bring Me That Horizon

In just under 24 hours I will be rocketing away from Ghana, northwards to Amsterdam, westwards to the US, finally to home. Right now, I am trying to think how this research tour, my second in Ghana, differs from the first. At the outset of this tour, I felt more assured, more at ease with the daily inconveniences that come with this kind of work; consequently, I think I saw more.

Ironically, though, I saw more problems, more hardships here in Ghana, than I did the first time around. Part of that lies in the fact that this project has been far more rural than my previous one, but I think it more lies in the fact that I've been able to think more from a Ghanaian perspective. Though even that latter statement is erroneous: from an academic standpoint, is the Ghanaian perspective any different from how a rational, economically minded person would think?

I've worked very closely with bureaucrats of various ranks during this project. Why is it that some bureaucrats work so hard when there is no realistic chance of them getting promoted any time soon? Why does no one rebel against the culture of the "big man at the top" and the formalities that that entails? Where does all this government provision of public goods unravel?

Recently, a Ghana news agency reported on Cabinet ministers taking tro-tros around Accra to really relate to the transport problems that Ghanaians face. For one minister, this was the first time she had been in a tro-tro since 1992. I've probably been on more than 150 of these in the past five months. On camera, she pushed and shoved her way like everyone else into this vehicle; from inside, she lamented the cramped conditions, the lack of safety regulations. (I also wondered how they got the full news team in there, but I digress.) Another minister lasted about 17 minutes on a tro-tro before returning to his air-conditioned, carpeted office to hydrate and douse himself thoroughly with bottled water, gratefully rejoicing in the fact that he owned a private car to take him around. Seriously.

Also on the news, a large fire broke out in a tro-tro station at one of Ghana's main cities a couple weeks ago. This was a historical station and the tro-tro union's headquarters at that station was completely destroyed, wiping away decades of paper records, decades of history. The fire service was called immediately; they malingered, allowing a precious hour or so to pass before arriving. But their hoses stayed off: the electricity company hadn't turned off the power supply to the burning station, putting the fire fighters at risk of electrocution. (Is this actually a risk? I saw a similar thing on MythBusters, and I believe they debunked this.) But Ghanaians are creative, creative to the point of absurdity: people fought this fire by throwing sachet water at it. The station was a complete loss.

Ghanaians work hard. Our interviewer teams in the field work hard despite blazing heat, no electricity, gastrointestinal duress, malaria. Our bureaucratic contacts work hard. But why does the system not work? Why is there still corruption? Why is there still aloofness?

That's not to say that there aren't success stories, that there isn't the potential for more. People are creative. They search. They find. They get by. Once I could not roll down the window in a scorching hot taxi because the handle was broken. The passenger next to me unscrewed the handle of his window turner, and handed it to me, allowing me to slowly turn the screw, laboriously lowering the window.

A non-opening window is a simple problem, but honestly how do you fix it without any real tools? And imagine if it were a power window. But the solution was simple, and from what I could tell fairly common knowledge. It didn't even (financially) cost anything. It's a problem-solving attitude I've seen in so many common Ghanaians; despite failures in government, despite economic hardship, they get by. They get by cheerfully. It's a shame that somewhere along the line things fall apart. How do you pinpoint this problem and change behaviors? I don't know. And I don't know if the mindsets and incentives of the current ones at the top can be changed at this point.

But I think there is hope of that. Ghana has come a long way. We need to study these behaviors and incentives rigorously, and we just might have the tools, the resources, the intellectual creativity to do that now. In the meantime, life will still go on. Ghanaians will face problems; they will solve them. People will not be daunted by stuck windows and broken systems. Even if slowly and arduously--they will let in that fresh air.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Harvard Magazine features student projects in Africa

This month's issue of Harvard Magazine features students from the College working on a wide variety of projects in Africa, including a documentary on mental-health care and policy reform in Ghana and the development of vertical agriculture (VertiGrow) in Kibera, Nairobi. Today's evening news here in Ghana actually debated the progress of the mental-health bill in Parliament.

As a political-scientist-in-training, I found the VertiGrow article quite intriguing, namely in that it falls under the question of, "do interventions actually work?", a question that remains to be answered. Surely my fellow Easterly fans will enjoy this key quote:

Nowak was never sure what she would find each day when she arrived at the designated construction sites for the planters in Kibera. But she says her approach of letting the residents take the lead resulted in a product that merges the undergraduates’ ideas with local preferences and customs in a way that something designed wholly in a Harvard classroom never could.

Local ownership is certainly a key part of improving development outcomes. More broadly, this technology may have numerous implications for slums across the developing world, and it will be interesting to see how economic incentives and results are shaped by this product. One thing that just came to mind: if declining returns to agriculture result in increased urbanization, then wouldn't it be ironic if vertical agriculture helped people get out of the slums and into more productive settings?

Always something new out of Africa.

Friday, October 23, 2009

The Field Researcher's Tale

Preface: A couple of BBC stories from this week I found interesting.

Former Ghanaian government minister, Elizabeth Ohene, writes on perceptions--modern and historical--of Chinese investment in Africa, noting specifically cases of infrastructure projects around Accra. The article also talks a bit about a China's relationship with Africa during the independence period, a relationship whose remnants (i.e. mass rally squares in all major towns, Soviet-style architecture, etc.) are still quite visible across Ghana. On the Accra roads she mentions, in my experience, the road west to Takoradi is probably the best road in Ghana, comparable to any major US highway, whereas the one going north to Kumasi requires nerves (and bowels) of steel. In any case, my bellwether for Ghanaian opinion on foreign investment will still be to see which flags are proudly displayed in tro-tros and taxis.

Apparently there's a new board game out on creating a United States of Africa. I wonder if it'll be anything like Monopoly?

~~

My normal day typically starts with me waking up around 6.15am--initially this was not by choice since as an undergrad I happily slept until 9am (better than a lot of my peers, actually), but in Ghana the work day kind of starts at 5am. The alarm clock is set for 6.15, but I have received calls from teams and contacts even earlier. Always fun when that happens.

Today's assignment: track down a team in Ashanti Region, meet up with them, take notes, bring back their completed questionnaires to Kumasi to start reviewing them, pass notes on to Accra and Cambridge. Actually, this is basically every day's assignment, just with different teams. I pride myself on my navigational abilities, so I've been quite successful in doing this with the five teams that are within three hours' tro-tro ride from Kumasi. False sense of security right there.

This morning, I could not get in touch with the team supervisor for about three hours, severely hindering my departure time. When I did finally reach him, I had a typical phone chat with him:

[loud background noise on his end, consisting of crying babies, goats, crying baby goats, screaming Pentecostal preachers, turbo diesel engine, overhead aircraft and Nigerian movie]

Me [practically screaming]: Hello?
[background noise]
Me: Hello?!

Supervisor: Hello?! [five second delay] Joe?

Me: Yes! [mentally skipping all greeting formalities and other chit-chat to cut straight to the point, hoping to overcome background noise] Where are you?!

Supervisor: I am fine, how are you?

Me: Uhhh, fine as well. I need to visit your team today, where are you?

Supervisor: Oh, we are in [garbled noise]

Me: What?

Supervisor: So we'll see you in a few hours?

[in the background Nigerian movie, a diesel-powered airplane has crashed into a sea of goats, prompting excessive infant crying]

Me: NO NO WHAT VILLAGE ARE YOU IN?!

Supervisor: Oh, Apenimadi.

Me: Okay, which junction do I turn at?

Supervisor: Go on the Bibiani road.

Me: Then what?

Supervisor: Alight at [garbled noise], you will find a car to hire there.

Me: Wait, say that again.

Supervisor: [garbled noise.]

Me: Argh, once more.

Supervisor: Kwansinsin. It is spelled K-W-A-N-[garbled noise]-I-N-S-[garbled noise]-N.

Me: Uhhh, okay, I'll see you in a couple hours.

~~

This is where I check my Ghana road map, which is surprisingly good, to chart the course: tro-tro from Kumasi to Nkawie, transfer to another tro-tro to Kwansinsin, hire car to Apenimadi. Simple, right? Expected cost: 10 Ghana cedis.

A couple issues: why not take a tro-tro that goes all the way to Bibiani and alight on the way to Kwansinsin? Because that car will take much longer to fill; Nkawie, and most destinations closer to Kumasi, fill much faster. Other issue: my map reads "Kwanfinfi". No big deal, plenty of things in Ghana have multiple spellings. Or maybe it's like the Constitution where f's look like s's or something.

I leave Kumasi at 11am and make it to Nkawie at noon. Fifty-five pesewas. Piece of cake. Because these survey books I was picking up are heavy, I left the camera safely locked back in my room. Had I known what was about to transpire, I would have brought two cameras.

As I leave the first tro-tro, another one immediately pulls up behind it. I step up to the mate:

Me: Kwansinsin?

Mate: [looks puzzled]

Me: Kwansinsin?

Mate: Yes, yes, get in.

Normally this works; mates usually understand me. And I figured, this tro-tro is going in the right direction, Kwansinsin is like five miles away, I'll get there.

Except for the fact that the map was right. Kwanfinfi.

The tro-tro stops at a town called Mpatasie or something, all the passengers alight.

Last passenger, to me [in Twi]: Where are you going?

Me: Kwansinsin.

Passenger: Where?

Me: Kwansinsin.

Mate: Oh, this car is going back to Kumasi.

Me: WHAT?!

Passenger: I think he means Kwanfinfi.

Mate: Oh, we'll drop you at the junction and you'll find a car there.

Probabilistically, that is a worst-case scenario. Imagine being stuck, somehow, on the second floor of the Empire State Building and you need to get to a higher floor. Good luck finding an (local, not express) elevator going up that's not full. Well, that was me--a few miles after a main town, watching full tro-tro after full tro-tro pass me by. I waited almost an hour at that junction before finally a completely empty tro-tro pulled up.

Me: Are you going to Kwanfinfi?

Mate: No.

Me: But you're going in that direction?

Mate: Yes.

Yet another probabilistic decision: stay and hope for a tro-tro with a spot, or take my chances with moving on in the same direction? I decide on the daring.

I get dropped off three miles down the road, the tro-tro turns around for Kumasi and I am still not in Kwansinsin/Kwanfinfi. At this point I start to wonder if I am in Zeno's paradox of motion or something. I ask a village for Kwanfinfi--he points in the direction and says "two miles".

Okay, two miles. Despite the scorching heat, I can do two miles. Seven years as a Florida Boy Scout prepare you for times like this. An average person can walk that in like 40 minutes. Not bad.

So an hour and half later with about 1000 fewer calories I end up in Kwanfinfi. Not a bad hike actually as the countryside is really lush and beautiful, and I passed through about four towns with hordes of children wondering what this obruni was doing.

Now it's past 2pm. Time to get that car. And there is only one car--with eight people already sitting in it.

Driver, sensing economic opportunity: Where are you going?

Me: Apenimadi.

Driver: Dropping (chartering the cab)?

Me: Shared is fine.

Driver: None of them are going to Apenimadi. Twenty Ghana cedis.

Me, having paid five the last time I chartered a rural taxi: No way, that's too high.

Driver, who may never have taken an economics class, is still fully aware of his monopolistic bargaining position: It is far, the roads are bad, twenty cedis.

Well, I have no choice but to pay it (this is a round-trip fare). A few people get out of the car, but we still drive along with seven: the driver, me and another guy shotgun, four people in the back. The car is the most beat-up Toyota Tercel from the Carter Administration, lacks sideview mirrors, has cardboard patching up the doors, insides covered in a thin layer of dirt and diesel fumes leaked into the cabin, which luckily was well ventilated because 3/4 of the windows were gone.

The road was probably the second worst I'd been on in Ghana (Western Region was the worst); dirt, overgrown trees with branches that smack into the inside of the car, car bottoming out, criss-crossed planks that constitute "bridges", etc. This car actually had one of those orientation meters in its dash, and there were definitely quite a few rapid-fire 15 degree lists because of the numerous bumps and grooves in the road, which, had it been raining, would have easily required a four-wheel drive.

It took about an hour to get to Apenimadi in this car. Despite the rough road and toxic fumes, the view was incredible: we are driving towards a mountainous forest reserve that is renowned in Ghana, so the trees were getting taller and more majestic as we drove along. It was very quiet out there--only the sound of the car laboring along.

By now it is 3.30 and I am praying the team is still there. I get there about 10 minutes before they are about to leave. Whew. They are happy to see me, and I am equally happy to see them. The supervisor has one more task to complete, a water-toxicity test on the village water supply, and he invites me to accompany him down to the stream.

The stream is in the forest. We walk down a steep, rocky hill, surrounded by 50-foot-tall trees, lots of greenery, chirping birds. The trees own up into a small grotto, in the middle of which is a pool, less than a foot deep, about the size of a queen-sized bed, filled with the tiniest brook gushing from a rock. Aside from the occasional birds this is the only sounds. This is probably the most serene, peaceful place I have been in a long time. The taxi driver joins us, and he too stands there in awe for a few seconds. The supervisor gets to work--out comes the sterile plastic collection bag and he collects directly from the tiny gush. He tells me that the source is high up in the forested mountains and that this tiny stream cascades all the way down here underground through the rock formations.

With that, we pack up and pile into the car for the ride back. Eventually eight people get into this car, which turns into a very dusty ride. I took a shower before writing this post, and watched a nice layer of silt make its way down the drain. My pack is also quite dirt encrusted. All part of the work.

I guess we'll see how tomorrow goes. And I will never again leave behind that camera.

Friday, October 16, 2009

GHANA WIN U-20 WORLD CUP!!!

Defeating Brazil on penalty kicks! An entire country is going wild with jubilation!

Sorry for lack of updates--research project has been consuming all of my time. Hopefully, I'll get some updates and pictures in this weekend.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Take Her to Sea

The time has come. Tomorrow (today?) at 6am, the baseline survey I've been working on for the past several months will officially launch, dispersing teams to various locations around the country. Basically I spent today practically equipping an army, counting out all sorts of supplies, allocating them amongst all our interviewers--it took 11 hours!

My Kelty backpack bills itself as the ideal 'day-and-a-half' pack. We're about to make it the 'week-and-a-half pack.' My itinerary will take me first to Western Region, around the Takoradi/Tarkwa area, then to Mpohor Wassa near Elmina, wrapping up with Assin Breku and Cape Coast in the Central Region. I'll return to Accra for a few days before visiting our teams in other regions. I'll be sure to take lots of pictures. This also means that I won't be updating my blog very regularly for the next few weeks.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Ghana in Oil Deal with CNOOC

allAfrica reports that the Ghana National Petroleum Corporation and the China National Offshore Oil Corporation have started a collaboration on offshore oil exploration. The article is a bit short on the details of what this collaboration would entail, but I am a bit concerned about this deal from a governance and transparency perspective, given China's oil dealings in other, less well governed African states. Though, to be fair, this is not a concern solely applicable to Chinese oil firms.

I get the feeling from this article that President Mills is attempting to soften the energy crisis by creating these domestic oil deals. Doing so for populist reasons would be bad; I doubt that Ghana yet has the institutional capacity to manage such windfall oil revenues well. Though I have noticed that many young Ghanaian graduates, who are suffering through a terrible job-hunting process, especially with public-sector hiring frozen, are looking into graduate programs in Norway, a country that did a fairly decent job managing its oil revenues. Hopefully they can bring back some lessons from there.

I'll look further into this deal over the next few days.

Happy 100th Birthday

To Dr Kwame Nkrumah, a leader of the struggle for independence and first president of Ghana. There's been a good bit of ceremony and celebration in Accra, and today was a national holiday.

Entertainment

So our new residence in Accra sits on a road that forms a T-junction with a busy thoroughfare, on which taxis frequently pass. This has led to my fellow RAs and I creating a new (soon-to-be-Olympic) sport:

Competitive long-distance taxi hailing. (CLDTH ... we are currently accepting nominations for better names/acronyms of this sport.)

Several months of field research in Ghana have led us to believe that taxi drivers have an innate sixth sense: obruni-radar, or obruni-dar, for short. Some days we'll walk out of the house, we'll hear a honk and out of seemingly nowhere a taxi will appear. Some people see things like this and ask 'why?'; we see things like this and ask 'why not make a really cool, pointlessly competitive game out of this?'.

How this game is played:

1.) All players must be walking on the road our house is on (the vertical part of the T-junction).

2.) Players attempt hailing taxis from the main road (the crossbar of the T). This is more difficult than one may think. There are trees at both corners of the intersection, so taxis only have visual/audio on potential hailers for a brief second, as they are speeding down the main road. This requires excellent timing and 'hailing-carrying distance' on the part of the hailer. Players who hail repeatedly when no taxi is in visual range are shunned and penalized heavily. No non-human aides, such as loudspeakers, metal whistles or those annoying football horns, allowed.

3.) Successful hailer wins and shamelessly celebrates. Distance from the T-junction is noted. Current record held by Noah--something like 60 meters.

But, wait, there's more. Bonuses:

1.) Nonchalance: Extra points for hailing with only one finger.

2.) Economy: Extra points for negotiating a lower than average price with the driver.

3.) Greed: Having multiple cabs stop with one hail.

4.) Nightvision: Winning this game at night. Obviously.

5.) Supremacy: All of the above.

This sport is still in its developmental stages, so I will keep you updated on new rules, forms of competition, etc.

Monday, September 7, 2009

President Kufour to speak at MIT

John Kufour, President of Ghana, 2001-2009. Chair of the African Union, 2007-2008. Image sourced from MIT link below.

Cambridge-based readers: MIT's Legatum Center for Development and Entrepreneurship will be hosting former Ghanaian President John Kufour on 21 Sep 2009. The title of his talk is, "Entrepreneurship, Government and Development in Africa."

The event is open free to the public. It'll be at 4pm in MIT's Building 34, Room 101, but seating is limited, so it's recommend you get there by 3.30.

Here's the link.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

See you in South Africa

Tonight Ghana became the first African team (aside from South Africa) to qualify for the 2010 World Cup, with a 2-0 victory over Sudan, featuring stunning strikes by Sulley Muntari and Michael Essien. Kumasi is relatively quiet actually, but I can only imagine what it's like in Accra right now.

Ghana links

Things have been quite hectic on the research project front, and I am back in Kumasi for more data collection. Hopefully in a week or two things will be back to normal and I can attend to my blog more regularly. In the meantime, here are links to a couple of stories that are on the front pages of Ghana's papers right now:

From the BBC, the UN warns on West African floods. Basically there has been torrential rain in Burkina Faso and other West African countries, which has displaced some 150 000 people in that country alone. As a result, the Burkinabe authorities opened the main gates of one of their dams o the Volta River, which displaced and killed many Ghanaians. According to IRIN, Ghana had fewer than 24 hours' notice that Burkina Faso would be opening these gates.

Last week's The Economist featured a story on Sodom and Gomorrah, one of Accra's biggest slums, and how it represented Africa's rapid urbanization and falling fertility rates--the so-called "demographic transition". Just as this Economist story went to press, several people in Sodom and Gomorrah were basically cut to pieces in ethnic violence, prompting (reigniting?) calls to close down the slum and relocate the squatters, a move for which few offer solutions for the inevitable instability.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

The Adae Festival

The Drummers on the Look-out.

Greetings again from Kumasi! I've been quite busy with the research project this past week, but tonight I have some free time to share a rather unique experience.

This past Sunday I finally had the opportunity to see the Adae Festival at Kumasi's Manhyia Palace, home of the Asantehene--that is, the king of the Ashanti people. Basically, the Adae occurs every 42 days on the Ashanti calendar, and it is the occasion where paramount chiefs, who rule over smaller territories, from all over Ghana come to Manhyia to pay tribute to the Asantehene. It is a colourful, boisterous experiences, replete with praise-singing, actual sabre-rattling, drumming, dancing, more praise-singing and all sorts of ceremonial.

The Chiefs' Stools. [Yes, the blue one is a plastic Rubbermaid stool.]

According to one of my Kumasi-based friends, this festival has been going on, basically without interruption and with few changes, for the past four hundred years. The changes were quite interesting. For instance, the Asantehene's entourage is preceded by the Executioner--who, as it turned out, was a really old man, who walked with some difficulty, but donned a leopard-skin cap and carried various--rusty--blades. I asked, "so does this executioner still execute?", to which the answer was, luckily, no. I read somewhere that under a previous Asantehene anyone who tried to take a picture of the Asantehene would be prevailed upon to surrender his camera--and then he would happen to be decapitated. The current Asantehene appears to be a bit more lenient: you don't have to surrender your camera. (Only kidding).

Schnapps for the Asantehene. [Notice the huge royal umbrellas in the background.]

Under the current Asantehene, the Adae Festival has become more open to foreigners, and we are allowed to take as many pictures as we want, so long as we don't interrupt the proceedings, something that was made known to us several times. I was certainly fine with that, seeing how this was an actual traditional ritual and not some Disney attraction, but that realization was unfortunately, sadly lost on many of the other obrunis (about 15 of us, total) attending. Quite a few of them rode in to Manhyia in SUVs owned by a not-to-be-named multilateral development agency. These people carried multiple, higher-end DSLRs (i.e. a D300 loaded with an 18-200 zoom) as well as video cameras, etc. Basically, I think they felt entitled to walk around as they pleased, get as close to the action as possible (wait, what about that zoom lens?), tell people to move around and disobey orders from the various attendants, even a few chiefs, to step aside. Honestly, I was a bit disgusted with some of their brazenness.

Preparing the Drums.

As for me, I had my trusty prime 35mm lens (still saving up to buy that 18-200). A fixed lens in this situation, where we aren't supposed to move around, presents a few difficulties in terms of composition. The Crimson photographer who advised me on my camera and lens purchase told me that a fixed lens (in her case, a prime 50mm), while not having the obvious advantages of being able to zoom in on a subject, challenged her to give more thought to her composition. Having used this lens for the past few months, I've really come to appreciate that sentiment and think more of how to portray people and life in Ghana.

All Eyes on the King.

I spent most of the festival hanging out in the drummers' gallery, towards the back of the Manhyia plaza, a gallery filled with drums of various sizes, including talking drums, that the Ashantis used to communicate, especially during war time. This was my first experience with talking drums, and all I basically knew about them was that they were used during the Stairs Expedition by Katangan spies to gauge the size and capacity of the encroaching European forces. Such a crazy story. I think for this festival those drums were used to augment the praises to the Asantehene and announce the arrival of various chiefs.

The Talking Drums.

One major highlight of this particular festival was that it was also attended by John Kufour, former president of Ghana. Given that Kumasi is the stronghold of the NPP, the current opposition, most people were ecstatic to see Kufour, and the line to shake his hand (no, I was not included) took about half an hour to cycle through--before another line started. His attendance was interesting in that chiefs and traditional leaders are not supposed to get mixed up with 'formal' government, but Kufour was given the seat of honour, directly facing the Asantehene. Furthermore, when greeting the Asantehene, it is traditional for men to lower the left shoulder of their 'toga' outfit to signify that they are not hiding a weapon; I don't think Kufour had to do that. But, in any case, certainly a cool experience to see him there.

The Crowd Going Wild for Kufour.

After the Adae I decided to take a stroll around Kumasi, and happened to find a lively game of street soccer. More pictures of the Adae and of the soccer game below.

The Crescendo.

The Apprentice Drummers.

The Royal Umbrella.

Kumasi Street Soccer. [Yes, despite the open drain, that ball is still in bounds.]

A Break in Play. [Yes, that taxi actually stalled and the players had to push it to get it moving and off their pitch. Oh, Africa.]

The Star.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

"If you kill a thousand, you must kill a thousand more."

I have decided that Kumasi is now one of my favourite cities in the world. Unlike Accra, Kumasi actually feels like what one would expect a colonially significant, West African city to be: noisy, cramped, energetic, historical. As the seat of the Ashanti empire, Kumasi is by no means lacking in tradition and history--a tour around the Kumasi fort will yield countless pictures of the Anglo-Ashanti wars, the Gold Coast Regiments of WWI and WWII, scenes of struggle and regality. It's a place that's hard to describe, but you can certainly feel that there is something special about it. Even today, with modern democracy, Kumasi holds strongly to its historical Ashanti roots, with the King of the Ashantis (the Asantehene) being one of the most recognizable national figures. Hopefully I'll be back in Kumasi next weekend for the once-in-six-weeks Adae festival, where all the chiefs in Ashanti Region (and even beyond) come to Kumasi in their full regalia to bring tribute to the Asantehene: apparently there's a lot of kente majesty, dancing, drumming and goat slaughtering. Should be fun. Except for the goats, that is.

Continuing on the politics line, Kumasi, capital of the Ashanti Region, is the stronghold of the New Patriotic Party, who lost the elections to the National Democratic Congress. Though things are starting to change, the NPP has historically been associated with the Ashanti region and ethnic group. On the six-hour STC bus ride up to Kumasi, I found myself caught in between opposing sides of a rather heated political debate literally between one side of the bus and the other. STC bus rides are typically loud, either because of screaming Nigerian movies or the radio at full blast, with a mixed arrangement of hip hop, Nigerian pop and American country. This time, however, the driver made the critical mistake of turning on a political radio program, which pitted politicians from both parties in a debate about, I think, Ghanaian citizenship (i.e. how does one become a citizen? economic activities/taxation of the diaspora, etc.). The argument was half Twi, half English, so it is possible they were talking about something entirely different. But a lively bus ride, nonetheless.

Kumasi is home to two famous institutions: Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST) and Kumasi Asante Kotoko (perennial soccer champions). This past trip, I had the chance to visit both. My university-campus experience here in Ghana has largely been confined to Legon and University of Cape Coast, so I was definitely happy to see the third part of the triumvirate. Billing themselves as the premier science and technology university of West Africa, "Tech", as everyone in Kumasi calls it, has produced many of Ghana's finest scientists, engineers and leaders across many different fields. Founded in 1961 by, you guessed it, Kwame Nkrumah, Tech already has quite the history, complete with intra-university rivalries.

I find it quite interesting that these big three universities in Ghana follow a residential system similar to that of Oxford, Cambridge and Harvard, wherein students are assigned to particular halls (aka colleges or houses) and loyalties to one's hall (Harvard's houses, for instance, consist of Lowell and 12 others) run just as deep as loyalty to the school itself. Well, maybe more to the halls. I toured Tech with a Kumasi-based colleague, and he described the history behind the various halls, sporting such names as Unity, Continental and Republic. I think my favourite rivalry was that between Unity Hall and another hall popularly known as Katanga. Made me wonder if secession was a big problem over there. But, yes ,the Katanga residents do have the reputation for being pranksters.

Tech is also quite interesting for its arts school, which trains artists from all over Ghana, who then sell their crafts at places such as the National Cultural Centre in Kumasi (highly recommended) or at various locations in Accra. My favourite part of the Tech arts school was the makeshift sculpture garden displaying various works in progress. Most works showcased a decidedly African theme, revolving around pan-African unity, tribal royalty and so forth. Here are some fun pictures, all shot with the prime 35:

The Tech Main Gate. Note that it is shaped like an Ashanti stool.

The Organisation of African Unity.

Point Taken.

[I can't think of a title for this one. And so begins the first Out of West Africa caption contest. Winner gets a free subscription to this blog or something. Losers get outlines of my future papers.]

Our turn to eat yet?

Focus on Africa.

The Dedication.


The other highlight from Kumasi was watching Kumasi Asante Kotoko play Kpando Hearts of Lions in the Ghana Sports Writers Cup. Kotoko is probably the most popular team in all of Ghana, and it is very likely that every other taxi you pick up in Ghana will sport a Kotoko flag. My Kumasi colleague explained to me that Kotoko had a rather interesting, warlike motto (the title of this post) that stemmed from Ashanti folklore. Basically, if you are terrible enough to kill a thousand people, you better stay on your guard because a thousand people from the village will come hunt you down, so then you have to kill them. And so forth. Until you get tired. In other words, stop at 999. Rather violent motto to have, no? Hearts of Lions ended up winning the match, much to my surprise, but luckily we didn't see anyone carrying out this motto after the match.

Before the match, the stadium jumbo screen displayed the Chelsea match, a team that might actually be more popular in Ghana than Kotoko given the fact that Michael Essien plays for them. It took me a few minutes to figure out why people were jumping up and screaming when there was clearly no one on the actual soccer pitch. Ah, yes, Essien and Lampard on the screen. Makes sense.

Chelsea scores.

The other cool thing that happened to me last week was that I got to fly back from Kumasi to Accra! I have to say I'm a bit of an aviation enthusiast, and this CityLink Saab 340, perhaps my third flight in a prop-jet, provided no shortage of fun. Thirty-five minute plane ride versus seven hours on a bumpy bus? And they served sandwiches. Heaven.

Saab 340 at Kumasi Airport.

"Heroes get remembered, but legends never die..."

Sorry for the lack of updates over the past couple of weeks--I got back from meetings and data gathering in Kumasi last Tuesday (I'll write the Kumasi-specific post after this one) and dived right into the maelstrom that is interviewer training, a process which took the full week. In short: training 75 interviewers to understand a 65-page English-language survey, with correct, uniform translations into Twi, is not an easy task. Training will get its own post after the Kumasi post. In any case, I finally have a day off, and am spending the afternoon listening to jazz and blues at one of my favourite restaurants in Accra (it has wireless, too!), finishing off a plate of spaghetti bolognaise, to be chased soon after by chocolate mousse and espresso. Glorious.

A couple weekends ago, I had the opportunity to join David and the baseball NGOs to see Ghana's premier little-league team practice. This team is actually in Cote d'Ivoire this weekend for a national-level tournament, possibly some kind of West Africa Little-League World Series. Having grown up with youth soccer, I am a huge fan of youth sports, and it was great just watching these kids have a good time. Two of my favourite movies as a kid, which I would still watch without hesitation today, were The Sandlot and Little Giants, movies that I feel every American-raised kid must see. Or something. "You're killing me, Smalls!"

The coaches, who were members of Ghana's national baseball team, were very dedicated and worked the kids hard to develop their skills, while also ensuring that they had fun. This team had been built up by Ghanaians, which I had found especially encouraging, and it seemed like the number of kids wanting to play far exceeded the spots available on the roster--but that seems like it will change as more teams get added in Tema (for some reason, Tema is baseball central in Ghana). Even just driving around the city, we noticed quite a few fields with backstops, and another group of kids playing baseball.

I, for one, have not dedicated a lot of thought yet to the role of sports in development--though this is one of David's areas of keen interest. For me, I think it's an interesting intersection to explore from the social-capital angle: can youth team sports generate lasting, positive externalities in terms of the ability to form social networks and cooperate through difficult times? does baseball do a better job at this than other sports like, say, soccer? how do more individualistic team sports, like baseball (where players have more uniform chances of scoring) affect mentalities related to creativity and daring relative to more group-oriented sports? I just had an interesting conversation with my colleague, Noah, about baseball statistics: he argues, and I am inclined to agree with him, that baseball players can be "greedy" in their individual statistics in that another successfully stolen base, another home run, another strikeout (for the pitcher) helps the team, whereas attempting to score more in, say, basketball and soccer could be detrimental to the team (i.e. you should have passed it to the open guy, etc.). (I guess being more "selfish" in baseball could be risky to the team if you increase your likelihood of injury--capital depreciation, eh?) Given the dominance of soccer here in West Africa, it might be difficult to assess the impact of baseball on youth cooperation, but I think some cool cooperation-based field experiments--perhaps tracking these kids over time--might be possible on this front.

Anyways, I am theorizing too much for this blog post. Here are the fun pictures. All shots on the D60 with the prime 35. Yes, that means I was close in on the action--nothing like having the camera in one hand and a baseball glove in the other (for self/camera-defense from wayward foul tips!).

Warming up.

Criss-cross runs.

The ladies, practicing the softball toss.

The dugout.

Michael, the coach, assigning positions. (NB: He has the correct uniform on. I can forgive him for the St. Louis hat.)

The Cy Young Contender.

Perfecting the lunge.

The Slugger.

Working the count.

Batting practice.

The Delivery Man.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Aid and Local Justice in Africa

Rahim Kanani at the Justice and Human Rights Domain at Harvard's Hauser Center for Non-Profit Organizations has recently published an insightful interview with Amaka Megwalu on the intersection of the international aid industry with the delivery of justice in Africa. Megwalu, at grad student at Harvard Law, is the first author of "Dilemmas of Justice and Reconciliation: Rwandans and the Gacaca Courts", which is forthcoming in the African Journal of International and Comparative Law, and is a veteran of international aid and post-conflict resolution in Africa.

Megwala highlights the importance of locally driven approaches in effecting meaningful change, whether for justice delivery or aid, in general. My experiences conducting research with Ghanaian NGOs and civil servants certainly backs up this assertion. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes:
While there are no easy answers, we may perhaps learn from our observations. In my experience, the development industry is more successful where there are fewer expatriate staff members and development agencies are smaller and focused on one or two programs. It is more successful where national staff members are given more management responsibility for development programs and expatriate staff members serve in more support/advisory roles.
~~
I definitely think that local systems of justice should be institutionalized within the broader system of international justice. Often, international justice mechanisms are better than local initiatives at recognizing faults on both sides of a conflict. However, local initiatives are much better at encouraging public participation and fostering reconciliation.
From my conversations with Ghanaian farmers over the past few weeks, it seems like there is a bit of resentment towards aid agencies that put naive foreigners in local-management positions and leave out national staff--a situation that often breeds broken promises and makes future work for researchers (i.e. me) all the more difficult. In particular, these farmers have become skeptical of forming cooperatives because so many foreign aid agencies have tried to deploy this approach but then back out of their commitments. However, it is the actors (whether NGOs, universities or the government) who understand the grassroots needs, usually with the assistance of local staff, that are able to implement the lasting programs and cooperatives and get farmers to appreciate them.

Institutionalizing local justice within national and international law processes is another approach I certainly agree with. Ghana's national law system, particularly with respect to land, is quite complex, given its combination of traditional and common-law systems. When it comes to land disputes, people have the option of going to the police or the official law courts in each district, but most attempt to settle at the village level, whether through a council of elders or another traditional body. Such solutions are effective: they swiftly bring social pressures to bear on the offender and compliance is typically higher. For the international-law perspective, I direct you to my colleague Shelby's blog; she has been writing prolifically on the Special Court for Sierra Leone and the apathy that many Liberians are feeling towards Charles Taylor's trial, which is being conducted at The Hague.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Kumasi, take two

I'm off to Kumasi again for research assignment, so I won't be attending to my blog regularly. But I will get the backlog of pictures and posts up as soon as I can. Bus leaves at 7.30am tomorrow from the other side of Accra. Argh.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

"A man with one eye is a king amongst the blind."

I spent this past week on research assignment in Kumasi and Greater Ashanti, so I haven't been able to attend to my blog. Kumasi is probably my favorite city in Ghana, and this trip certainly did not disappoint. As the seat of the Ashanti, Kumasi is home to so much history: just walking around the city, absorbing the decaying British colonial architecture, you really feel as if you're in a different century, a wholly different place. At the same time, Kumasi, while comprised of narrow alleys, one-way streets and a population density that rivals ant colonies, is a decidedly modern African city, complete with stereos blasting charismatic Christian messages and a market that is reputed to be the largest in West Africa. It is fun.

Kumasi, view from the Sanbra Hotel. 35/2.8 (1/40) [Yes, that is a preacher at the corner with loudspeakers and a sizeable crowd.]

One of my chief research interests is democratization and political organization, particularly at the local levels. This past week, I had the opportunity to interview a government official in charge of rural cooperatives and conduct a focus-group session with a farming cooperative in Fomena, a small village about 40 miles south of Kumasi. The government official, unlike many portraits of African civil servants, was incredibly passionate about his job, and let me talk with him candidly for more than an hour. He basically gave me an overview of the history of Ghanaian cooperatives, and furnished some rather humorous quotes, the best of which forms the title of this post.

Cooperatives are a rather interesting institution--and something of a buzzword in the NGO world. I am currently focusing on farmers' cooperatives, which vary greatly in terms of membership and quality. In short, these cooperatives are democratic groups of farmers that help each other out; such help could come in the form of information sharing, resource pooling for capital acquisition, hardship support and enhanced political efficacy. The democratic nature of these cooperatives is what fascinates me the most. How do democratic practices in these cooperatives arise, especially in the context of traditional village hierarchies? Why are some cooperatives run as fiefdoms (the one-eyed men amongst the blind)? If cooperatives can provide the benefits listed above, then what prevents them from being formed? These questions all drive at democratic capacity at the individual level--something that has important implications for governance and policy efficacy throughout the developing world.

The visionary. 35/2.8 (1/100)

The Fomena cooperative I visited showed me the pinnacle of what a rural cooperative could be. At first, I was a bit skeptical. I was with Frank, who masterfully conducted the focus group in Twi, and a local government official working with the Department of Cooperatives, who happily assembled this focus group for us. Upon entering, the cooperative--about 15 were present, all the officers (6) and other members (9)--was, for the most part, wearing their official uniforms--a white t-shirt with the co-op crest--and, as soon as they saw us enter, they all stood up, practically saluting us, and shook our hands in line. The only thing missing was the red carpet.

The charter. 35/1.8 (1/13)

However, this intense formality loosened up after a few minutes and members talked openly and freely about the issues we posed to them, even as the cooperatives official looked on--in fact, after the focus group, he came up to me and Frank, and said that he had learned so much from that exchange and would improve his work! A couple things in particular really fascinated me about this group. The first was that women took an active role in the discussions, and the treasurer for the group was a woman, a rather rare event in these kinds of organizations. Secondly, even with all the officers present, the cooperative had a flat structure, and members did not speak in fear, officers did not become upset when we passed over them. Overall, this group liked each other.

The farmers' cooperative and Joe. 35/2.8 (1/640) [Photo by Frank.]

Above all, this cooperative showed great initiative and wanted to get more things done to improve their community. The main issue, however, is credit constraints. Village-level projects can be rather slow-going in Ghana, and these farmers expressed a great desire to go beyond their own wants and address public needs. When prompted, numerous farmers chimed in and volunteered potential projects, ranging from replacing streetlight bulbs to building cocoa sheds that the entire community could use.

Talking with this farming cooperative was an incredibly enlightening experience for me, and it was refreshing to see democratic decision-making, and action, working so well in rural Africa. These people were making their lives better and doing it with their own initiative. I realize that this cooperative is basically a model one, and that most others throughout Ghana do not approach the professionalism of this one. But seeing that it could work well and that lives could really be improved gives one hope. No longer will the blind have to be led by one-eyed kings.

~~

This past weekend, David and I attended a Ghana little-league practice out at Tema with a baseball NGO, which was a really fun experience. Lots of great pictures from that outing. I hope to have a post on that tomorrow.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

"If you build it, they will come."

Baseball is one of my favorite sports. I never played organized ball growing up (my town was evenly split between soccer, football and baseball, and I went soccer), but many of my friends did, and it was not uncommon to walk around the green, palm-tree-fringed parks of Port Charlotte tuning in to the characteristic 'twang' of aluminum on horsehide.

I am not ashamed to say that I am a Yankees fan. I was born in New York and grew up in Florida, but my sports-formative years were spent following the mid- to late-90s Yankees of O'Neill, Williams, Jeter, Girardi, Cone and Pettitte. Many a September and October homework assignment was put off to follow these athletic greats, this dynasty of dynasties, so steeped in history. In Tampa, which is two hours' drive from my town, the Yankees spring facility is Legends Field. And legends do roam, just like at Monument Park in New York.

In Ghana, baseball is something many people have not heard of or played. It is a game of anticipation. A thinker's game. A game that can change with the crack of a bat, an outstretched finger gracing home just under a catcher's desperate mitt. A perfect game was just thrown in Chicago. The perfect game--27 up, 27 down--is one of the greatest feats in all of sports. More men have orbited the moon than have thrown a perfect game. But as exciting as that is, in reality a perfect game is really boring, as nothing basically happens--until the 8th or 9th inning, when the anticipation climaxes. If you never see a perfect game in real life, then watch Kevin Costner's For Love of the Game, one of my favorite movies.

Second-hand gloves and balls used in the pickup softball game, shipped in from the US. Shot with D60, 35/1.8 (1/2000). All photos set with aperture priority.

Ghana probably won't see a perfect game for a while. There are few fields, and the equipment is less than perfect. But a colleague and good friend of mine is working to change that. He works with an NGO that's looking to bring baseball to Ghana, particularly for schoolchildren, but also for young adults who might have the talent to play in the US. Yesterday, I was privileged with the rare opportunity to photograph a pickup softball game with the NGO that my friend works with. I consider myself a portrait photographer, which is why I use a 35/1.8, so I knew doing sports photography would be a bit of a challenge without a zoom lens (though I'm now strongly considering adding a 55-200). But there were some great shots, and the lens is incredibly fast. Someone asked at the end of the game if I were an official photographer with the embassy. Maybe if political science doesn't work out.

Warming up with some catch. 35/2.8 (1/800).

For many years in Port Charlotte, we hosted the minor-league affiliate of the Texas Rangers. Many summer days were spent on the bleachers of our 4,000-seat "stadium", eating hot dogs (load on the ketchup, mustard and relish), cracking open peanuts, chasing down foul balls. It was no House that Ruth built (there's a giant Taco Bell sign beyond the outfield wall that, if hit, would garner everyone in the park free taco coupons), but the dirt was well maintained, the uniforms were still crisp, the bat boys/girls ever vigilant.

Perfecting the toss. 35/2.8 (1/1000).

Yesterday we played on a much-weeded-over, half grass, half dirt, soccer pitch. Ground balls took bounces that would defy Newton and the base bags moved within an unspecified margin of error whenever tagged, adding yet another degree of complexity. I wasn't sure what to expect. I know Ghanaians go absolutely crazy for football (soccer), and know everything about strategy, fitness and abilities for all their favorite Ghanaian and Premiership clubs. They also play a lot of it, and tend to be really fit on the pitch. I half-expected these guys, who must have been 18-24, to not be too in to baseball and not really know what they were doing.

Rounding first. 35/2.8 (1/200).

In Port Charlotte, baseball games are like those in the rest of America: fans chant, tease the pitcher, batter, base runners, umpires, maybe the pitcher again, all out have a good time. Players, especially, join in in the heckling and encourage their teammates. It's all in the spirit of the game, a game slowed down by the weight of a pitcher's deliberation, his anticipation, his delivery, a spirit that differs (though it still exists) in faster-paced sports like soccer.

The Catcher. 35/1.8 (1/1600).

These Ghanaians had the spirit of the game down. In Twi and English. I'm not sure what the Twi phrases were, but they sounded suspiciously close to "hey batter, batter", "swing batter, batter" and "we want a pitcher, not a belly itcher". Players on-deck took on the dual roles of first-base- and third-base- coach, waving home runners and whispering "left, left" or "right, right" to batters when defensive gaps opened up. There were cheers. There were fist pumps. There were moments of agony.

The Home Run. 35/1.8 (1/2500).

Even at our Florida State League minor-league games, we had umpires to keep track of the game. Our umpire at this game was a small board sitting behind the plate that recorded a hollow "fwomp-fwomp" when hit by the parabolically tossed, slow-pitch softball. Strike. No radar cameras here. In this game, hits abounded, and given the nature of the soccer field, ground-rule doubles and actual out-of-the-park home runs provided an endless source of excitement. The game was high scoring, something like 24-21, and there were many clutch fielding plays, including a few well turned double plays and snow-cone catches.

The Umpire. 35/1.8 (1/400).

Peter, featured above in "The Home Run", is one of the leaders of the baseball NGO. He is 26, and showed great batting and fielding talent yesterday, including effortlessly hitting home runs (300+ feet lengthwise across the soccer field). He briefly tried out for the Florida Marlins, and currently coaches Ghanaian kids in baseball on Saturday mornings. Working with his contacts in the US, he is able to ship over equipment like bats, gloves, balls and base bags, and it sounds like the kids have an amazing time with it all. In future posts, I plan to photograph and write about the kids' aspect of his NGO and even include an interview with Peter himself. He envisions bringing kids together all over Ghana to play baseball.

David, at the point of impact. 35/1.8 (1/2500).

One of the reasons why I like the Yankees so much is that, more than any other team in baseball, they are the team most strongly intertwined with 20th-century American history and pop culture. They are a team that goes beyond baseball. There is something timeless about those pin stripes. The effortlessness of Joe DiMaggio. The intrigue. Marilyn Monroe. The rivalries: Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris. The heartbreak: Lou Gehrig, the Pride of the Yankees. The humanity: Don Larsen, the imperfect man who threw the only perfect game in the post-season, which just happened to be in the World Series. And, above all, the American-ness of it. The cool, clean-shaven, effortless dynasty. The pressure of New York, the Broadway lights and fickle media and fans, the pressure to succeed. Yes, there is deserved criticism of the Yankees' business and talent-cultivation practices today. That I do not deny, and I agree with some of that criticism. But you can't take away the history.

The girls at catch. 35/1.8 (1/500).

Even with all that history, baseball in the US is tarnished. The drugs, the corporate-ness of it all have really taken away what the game used to be. Soccer, too, is starting to take that turn, something that many Ghanaians seem to be quite concerned about. Stars are now becoming idols of themselves, which may not be the best role models for children. But baseball in Ghana has the chance to start fresh. To give kids something they have never experienced, and to above all just let them have fun.

The Celebration. 35/1.8 (1/100).

This baseball NGO is still in its beginning stages, and there appears to be much government bureaucracy that needs to be navigated. But Peter and David are working tirelessly on this project, and I will follow their progress while I am here in Ghana. So do expect more photos and stories on this blog. If you are interested in helping this NGO out or want to find out more, please let me know in the comments, and I will put you in touch with the relevant people.

The Boys of Summer. 35/1.8 (1/1250).