Same country, different world

As I may have mentioned previously, Ghana is the size of the state of Oregon. It's not an especially large country but with roughly 22 million people and over 75 different languages, Ghana can provide a WIDE variety of experiences in a relatively small area.

A bit more than a week ago, I took a short trip to Accra to meet up with an SI alum. Lauren is the older sister of my fathers current student. The friend of a friend of a friend meet-ups aren't always great but when in Ghana, such a person is like family. It was so nice to be able to share an American style meal, discuss San Francisco, St. Ignatius and other common interests. Chatting with somebody who's relatively new to Ghana also re-opens my eyes to those things that I've begun to take for granted. "God is Great Fast Food," is a bland version of what you'll see on restaurants around Ghana. "Still To No The Answer Man," is far from the most garbled attempt at an insightful statement that one might see plastered across the back windscreen of a taxi cab. After only 4 months in country, I'm barely notice these things. I remember looking around in awe at what now seem like the most normal occurences. Lauren, thanks again for lunch and for opening my eyes again to the great things that are around me every day.

From Accra, I boarded a crowded tro headed north. After 3 of the 4 scheduled travel hours had passed, some part of the tro began to drag on the "highway." All 20 passengers piled out onto the roadside as the sun was beginning to set and the first raindrops in almost 2 months began to fall. I've heard horror stories from other PCV's regarding tro troubles and I was preparing to endure my first when within 10 minutes of breaking down, a luxury bus pulled over to pick us up. This STC bus is like a Greyhound with air conditioning and AWFUL Ghanaian film/soap operas playing on small televisions. I'll take bad Ghanaian TV over waiting in the rain on the roadside any day.

One more full day of travel, a night at the Peace Corps office and I was ready to visit a new world. In preparation, Cheri and I purchased some basic provisions and some traditional girts for her village elders. She and I shared the experience of selecting which live chicken (a gift for the assemblyman of Kpendua) might be best. After choosing a beautiful and very large rooster, we boarded the lorry. In the north, tros are called lorries and instead of carrying 20 passengers, they carry 50-60 passengers inside and another 20-30 passengers on top. We enjoyed the 2+ hour ride with bags on laps, Ghanaian butts, babies and breasts in our faces and a live chicken between my feet. We took the trip in stride and arrived in Kpendua ready for anything.

In Ghana, the farther north you travel, the more "tribal" things become. As a stranger (they prefer this term to guest or friend) in Kpendua, it is important to visit and officially greet all important elders. When greeting, the more important the individual, the lower you bow while shaking hands. When greeting a chief, you get into a deep squat and slowly clap your hands while answering several standard greetings. Most responses to Dagbani (local Dagomba language) greetings are "Na," so despite my lack of knowledge, I was able to wing it pretty well. Most Ghanaians can squat with their heels on the ground for hours upon hours. I on the other hand found myself in a deep squat with my weight on my toes and my muscles on the verge of failure on many occasions. Luckily, greetings went well and both chiefs received my cola nut gifts graciously. Cola nuts are about the size of a walnut. They are red (white cola nuts can be offered during sacrifices), smooth and less round than a walnut but comparable in size. The taste is incredibly bitter and these traditional gifts suck the moisture from your mouth faster than you can imagine.

Kpendua has the look and feel that I imagined when learning that I'd be serving in Ghana. Houses are round and have straw roofs. Chiefs wear traditional clothing and daily routine comes to a halt 5 times each day for muslim prayer.


After greeting chiefs, elders, the assemblyman and other important people. Cheri and I returned to her home having been gifted one watermelon, one duck, one fish and a dozen large yams!! This is so drastically different from my site, it's amazing.

While in Kpendua, I experienced many things for the first time. I helped with Guinea Worm surveillance (look this up for more details. Ghana is one of 4 countries that still has Guinea Worm. Kpendua has no current cases but shares a dam with a neighboring village that has recently announced 7 new cases.) Cheri is a Water and Sanitation volunteer so she was the expert, I just followed around while we checked the quality of filters.

I ate my first bush rat (like a city rat but larger. The head and tail are given to the children as a treat so I'm not sure what part(s) I ate. I helped pluck a duck while it was still warm. I helped hand out fried meat to children the morning after fire festival (I'll get to this). These children came around much like trick or treaters but instead of offering candy, you give meat or money. I travelled in a cargo lorry with 3 cows, 5 goats and at least 50 people.

Back to fire festival:

9 days after the first new moon of the calendar year, the Dagomba people celebrate Fire Festival. According to oral tradition, a prophet once disappeared during the first new moon of the new year and 9 days later, while searching with large torches, the prophet was found (this is the best I can do with the language barrier). People run around with huge flaming bundles of dried grass, cutlasses (machetes) and shotguns. This celebration is seen as the first opportunity to rid your body of juju magic (similar to voodoo) so people cover their bodies with white powder, wave fire, wield knives and shoot guns into the air. When arriving in Kpendua, I wasn't clear on all of these details and expected fewer knives and guns and much more organization. The evening went roughly as follows: We met at the assemblymans house for dinner (fried chicken, fried duck, t-zed (it's short for another name. Maize flour stirred into a goopy porridge) and soup). From dinner, we collected our sticks for burning and walked as a group over to the chiefs palace to begin the festivities. Within 10 seconds of arriving at the chiefs palace, we were dancing in a circle with over one hundred Ghanaians, many of whom were covered in white dust and waving guns and knives!!!! The dancing circle dispersed as some brush was set on fire. We stepped over flaming patches of grass as we lit our own sticks and with a camera in one hand, a 6 foot torch in the other hand and adrenaline pulsing through our bodies, Cheri and I walked through town amongst hundreds of elated Dagombas of all ages.


After maybe 30 minutes (felt like 30 seconds) of dodging embers, taking photos and jumping at the sound of random shotgun blasts, we arrived at a tree, threw our torches and returned to the chiefs palace. Countless patches of grass remained ablaze as wild singing and dancing erupted. Traditional songs and dances continued for hours until it was announced that the "warriors," would return from a neighboring town with drums for a performance. We waited at the assemblymans house and munched on fried duck as the adrenaline drained and midnight approached. Growing tired and impatient, we returned to the chiefs palace to inquire about a timeframe. We learned that the warriors had played too hard in the previous village and had split the skin on every drum. While I would have loved to see the warrior dance, I was completely drained and ready to call it a night. Not what I expected, the Fire Festival was unbelievable!!

This entry is LONG so I'll speed it up a bit. A few days after Fire Festival, Cheri and I left Kpendua in style. I got the back seat and was able to extend my tired legs atop a heated, vibrating leather ottoman while Cheri reclined and napped in her open air seat. In actuality, I sat on an oil drum with my legs across the back of a live cow and Cheri was contorted (still napping) atop several sacks of maize.

Today, we'll see Tunisia play Senegal and South Africa play Angola in the African Cup of Nations!! I'm tired but willing to power through for what will be another experience within an experience.

Love to all!!

(One of these days, maybe I'll proofread one of my entries. So far, I write until it's time to stop and I post what I've written. I hope you can follow.)