The Convenience of Ghana

One thing I'm going to miss about this place is how convenient certain things are.

The tro-tro system, for example. These mini-bus type vehicles are literally everywhere. I was completely reminded of my old Canadian ways when, the other day, I sat down on a road-side curb for about 10 minutes to await a tro-tro. At ten minutes... no, probably more like eight, I realized, wait a sec! I'm in Ghana. If I haven't seen a tro-tro in 8 minutes, then tro-tros just don't come here. So I got up feeling a little foolish and walked to a different road. But that's what it's like. They are everywhere so waiting for a tro-tro really only takes a few minutes.

Telephony here is unique in that very few people here actually have land-lines. Very few. The lack of land-line infrastructure back in the day made it convenient and cheap for the mobile phone companies to move into Ghana and make cell phones the norm, not normal telephones. So everyone has a cell phone. The best part about all this is that to get an account, you don't need to have an address and wait for the bill to come in the mail or any of that non-sense. Of course, this system wouldn't work since many people don't have an address since the many of the roads are unmarked. It's a pay as you go system and you buy cards basically anywhere. Like the tro-tro system, if you're walking around looking to buy a phone card and more than 8 minutes have passed, you've either left Ghana or you haven't a clue what a phone card actually looks like. They are everywhere. EVERYWHERE. People sell from from little desks on the side of the road, or by just walking around.

The next hyper-convenient item on the Ghanaian market is food. Street food to be precise. Here you are only as limited as your courage and stomach will allow. I say that, but really, I have yet to meet a chop bar (that's what they're called) that I haven't found extremely tasty. (I'd be amiss not to mention here that my flatmates used to say I thought food from the compost was tasty...) But on nearly every block there is some lady selling beans and rice or salad or hard-boiled eggs with salsa or fried rice or chicken kebobs or a number of other tasty dishes. This makes a guy with an insatiable appetite very very happy. Not only is this convenience everywhere, but it's also quick (whoo!) and very cheap (whoo hoo!!) making Ghana the best place on Earth and most probably the solar system.

Now you might be thinking, Phil, if this place is as good as you say it is, then why aren't I there? What I'd have to say to that is, Well, it gets a lot better, son. You see, some of these conveniences mash together into one gigantic flaming goo-ball of convenience. See, while you're sitting pretty in your tro-tro that you waited 12 seconds and paid 20 cents for, you are approached by hand-fulls of people selling everything from soap to cookies to Ghanaian flags every time your tro-tro stops. Feel like a phone card? Done. Thirsty? No, don't get up from your seat. Water is on it's way - and cold! Hungry? There's lots to choose from: fried dough balls (called bo fruit), papaya, apples, kebabs, bread, ice cream or frozen yogurt. Many people make it their goal in life to serve the tro-tros. Actually, my favourite place to buy underwear is from a tro-tro. The selection and quality of fabric is magnificent. Folks, you can even by a puppy from a tro-tro. Or books. Heck, last week I bought Shakespeare from one. Toothbrushes, soccer balls, even toys from the kiddies at home. The list goes on and on.

To be serious for a moment, I think this industry reflects well on the society. The people resorting to this way of life are generally uneducated and would otherwise be poor. Yet, instead losing hope and turning to crime or begging they walk the dusty and sun-violent roads everyday inhaling literally kilograms of emissions per year. The job isn't safe either. These people hawk on multi-laned roads, strategically selling in between lanes and vehicles. Ghanaians are hard-working and proud people who set an example for every one of us. Because while they are carrying crazy loads of wares on their heads, sweating under the afternoon sun and dodging traffic like an intimate dance, they go about their days with an unfounded happiness, with the brightest smiles.


This is me buying an unknown type of sea-food kebob. I think it was oyster but what ever it was, it was stuffed with gari, a local grain. I ate about half of it until my appetite went out the window - and thus, so did what remained.

Valentine's Day in Ghana

I was surprised to hear that Valentine's Day is celebrated here. I've always made it out to be another one of those fluffy western customs we're so famous for. BUT NO! It's here in Ghana too. However, it's not nearly in full force here as it is in North America. No Cupids, hearts, pink beer or anything crazy like that.

BUT.

If you wear red on Valentine's day, that means you're single and "available to the possibility of romance".
If you wear blue on Valentine's day, that means you're romantically unavailable and happy.

What a great idea that is! Finally, we all get a day in the year to know where everyone stands on the relationship front. I seriously think this should be adopted back home. It would save us all a lot of hassle and embarrassment. Too many of my February 13's have been spent construction papering the most perfect valentine card and conjuring the most romantical limericks, only to discover the next day that my supposed perfect mate had someone else in their lives. If, instead, every one wore pink or blue, I could simply pass on my work of art to the next most attractive pink-wearing lady I know. Done and done.

Marriage and Me

If you come to Ghana long enough, you'll realize how important the idea of marriage is here. And for a number of reasons. First of all, Ghanaians tend to be very religious people and they take marriage seriously. I'm not exactly sure how the divisions go, but the main religions are Christian and Muslim. Also, ideas of marriage are split down the middle. Again, I'm not sure on the proportions to any of this, but many Ghanaians believe in and practice polygamy.

Some of this rubbed off on me. To tell you the truth, since my arrival into this beautifully wonderful country, I've acquired 6 wives. True story. When I go out with any of my girlfriends, it's inevitable that some man somewhere will take an interest in her and start to talk to her. Or police men and border guards will jokingly say to me, "You have two women with you - you should share one with me." To all of these men I have the same reply, "SIR! This is my wife you are speaking to!" as if I'm completely insulted. The funny part about this is that it actually works. The man, whether a random guy or a machine gun-totting muscle-bound law enforcer, will laugh and apologize and let us on our way. The advantage of this polygamy thing is that it doesn't matter how many women are with me - I could say (and I do) that all the women I'm with are my wives and it still works!

I think the best part about all this is that the girls think it's chivalrous of me to offer this service. They don't realize that I only do it in hopes that one day they'll forget that we're only pretending and I can enjoy my rights as a husband. Not really.

The other night at Kokrobite, a beach I frequent, I watched as a girl got hounded by one of the locals. This is extremely typical and 99% the guys are only playfully flirting, whether the girls are interested or not. However, when they are not, it's a little painful to watch - Ghanaian men can be very persistent and don't register defeat very well. I thought about approaching her, offering to her my services as a stand-in husband for the evening, you know, just as a sort of sweet guy thing to do. But I was too sober to pull it off. The thing is, it would have worked. If I was convinced that this girl wasn't enjoy this guy's company, I could have easily walked up to them and act like her husband, and the intruder would have left immediately, leaving me to win the heart of the damsel.

I don't even need a ring. Or six of them.

General Thoughts

It's been 2 and a half months since my last post. I can't believe it. I'd like to believe my pause in writing was purposeful - something about needing to Know Ghana Better so that I could write more accurately about it. But, even if it was true, this isn't a great blogging philosophy since I believe it's the initial reactions of a place that are so valuable and wonderful to write about. So I guess I've just been plain lazy.

I've been in Ghana for nearly 5 months. Since my last post, Ghana has drastically changed in my mind. Not from good to bad or anything subjective like that, but in the knowing of it. It's changed from being strange, misunderstood, chaotic and dangerous to being wonderfully predictable and comfortable and homey.

It's the feeling I get when I've mastered the tro-tro system, not only in Accra but in all of Ghana. It's knowing where different parts of the city are, never really getting lost and knowing that if I ever was lost, it would only last as long as it took me to ask anyone where I was. It's knowing the people in my neighbourhood, visiting my breakfast lady from whom I buy fresh porridge every morning on the side of the road. Or the fried rice guy down the street. Or the orange lady just outside the hostel.

Yet, it is still difficult for me to talk about Ghana as a whole. I'm always weary about doing this, but I really feel especially uncomfortable doing it here since I've traveled so little in the country. I mean, I've been all along the coast and to a few towns north of Accra but I have yet to experience the far north of the country. I can confidently say Ghana is a hot country compared to Canada. And that it has many Ghanaians in it. But outside of these statements I start to feel awkward.

One thing that I can say, out of my experience of the place, is that every day, somewhere, somehow, Ghana makes me smile. The more I think about this, the more it's true. Usually the origins of the smile are subtle, but it's very unique to here.

The other day, I was riding in a tro-tro heading home. A football game was about to begin in the stadium in downtown Accra and the usual craziness among the Ghanaians was evident - most people being dressed in national colours, bearing flags, yelling etc. I watched how a taxi driver with a passenger cut off another driver who honked his car horn. The taxi passenger rolled down the window, took out this 2 foot horn (the kind you blow into at a stadium for cheering) and started honking back. The taxi and the passenger then started engaging in a battle of the horns while driving side by side, on the way to the stadium. If Ghanaians do get angry, it can't be for very long.

And if I hear another Shania Twain, Bryan Adams or Celine Dion song on the radio or at Karaoke or at the jazz club I frequent on Thursday evenings, I'm going to lose it all over everything. Seriously. Ghanaians have great music and I'd like to listen to it.

Sounds Like Ghana

I've never been in a place that I've been so auditorily curious about. It seems like everywhere I go there's something interesting to listen to. I don't know if I would have noticed this without my insistence to travel with my iPod. Although, I do listen to it, I find myself preferring the sounds of Ghana while I walk.

I'm reminded of one of my late night walks home after work. I was on my cell with a friend from Canada, trying to multitask - talk and walk down the dark, pothole ridden dirt road that leads me to my house. There is a section of the road that was sided with tall grass and when I came to it, a symphony of croaks came from what seemed like 2 dozen invisible toads in the grass, so loud that I couldn't continue the conversation except to say, "Can you hear that??? Those are toads from Africa!" My friend was excited to hear it, 8711kms away. Wow.

Mornings have a similar symphonic effect on creatures in this country. I'm afraid I've gotten used to it now, but when I first arrived I couldn't believe how each morning consistently brought two things - the cock-a-doodle-doing of roosters and the crying of babies. Together and loud, as if one group was trying to out-call the other. But really, I think there is one way causality - the babes cry BECAUSE of the roosters, not despite of them. The reason is because I think the internal tickers in roosters here have a wild chemical imbalance - they start being annoying WAY too early. Not at dawn, more like a few minutes after dusk and all night through. So, if I was a baby here, I'd cry too. 

My third experience with Ghanaian auditory fireworks happened a few nights ago. It was about 8pm and I was reading in bed. Hearing people of any sort is rare where I live because I live in the middle of no where. My postal address is "Turn left off a dirt road onto a smaller, muddier dirt road with potholes the size of teenage angst. Walk 20 minutes past the fruit stand until you're in the middle of no where (there's a sign). I'm in the house on the left... well, I'm in THE house." So you can imagine my surprise when, while reading, all of a sudden a thunderous cheer, made up of what seemed to be hundreds of people, exploded into the air. For 3 seconds it sounded like a Rolling Stones concert was going on about a kilometer away. Like that, far but not far for hundreds of people screaming. Anyway, I got up out of bed and stupidly looked out the window. It was completely dark by this time and I saw nothing but the dirt road. I couldn't understand what had happened and I actually started doubting what I actually heard... Maybe a quiet car going by playing music? Maybe a swarm of weird people-yelling sounding insects? Until. It. Happened. Again. I read about schizophrenia and I always wonder if I'll get it, and 
if I do, if I'll know I'm getting it since many people with early onset have auditory 
dilusions but often don't recognize them as so. 
So I start thinking how I can get my hands on some Clozapine double 
quick to start battling my new-found mental illness until I have an idea - check the tv. I turn it on, and what do I find? 
GHANA vs. BENIN football match being aired live from Accra! I couldn't believe it. The city actually ERUPTED with cheering every time GHANA scored - 4 times that evening. It was beautiful - an entire city cheering for their team individually in front of their sets yet together in their alacrity. I'm glad I experienced it. I can't wait to go see a real game. I'll probably have inner-ear damage and won't be able to walk straight ever again, but it'll be worth it. 

GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!

Mosquitos, Malaria and Me

Anopheles Mosquito:

Insects; part of the genus of Mosquito and family of Culicidae. Slender bodies, long legs and wings. In this family, along with most mosquito families, the females suck blood (called hematophagy)which make them one of the most effective disease transmitters known to man. In Ghana, the mosquito's most favourite past time is to transmit Plasmodium, the parasite responsible for malaria. Around the world half a billion people get malaria every year and 1 to 3 million people die from this infection.



I'm researching mosquitoes today because the Ghanaian ones are different than the ones I'm used to in Canada. I spent last summer in Canada living in my tent and being outside almost exclusively and dealing with mosquitoes, especially in eastern Manitoba and northern Ontario, was a daily struggle. I think it's fascinating how mosquitoes are merely a nuisance in Canada and even the thought that they can be a death threat to other people evades most Canadians. But the big difference between the two types which became apparent to me immediately, was how difficult these suckers are to kill. Really, these creatures put me to shame. In Canada, a good portion of my ego rested in knowing that I could one-handedly squash a bug, mid-flight, without even looking - I'm that good, like the karate kid. My ego has deflated since my arrival. These mosquitoes are quicker, smarter, smaller and hyperactive. They bite seemingly without even landing... Even attempts at mid-air assassination go unfulfilled - their speed and directionless buzzing make it nearly impossible.

I have a one-up, though, compared to most Ghanaians. My Canadian body, in an attempt to insulate against the blisteringly cold northern Ontario winters, is hairier than most Ghanaians and I think because of that, mosquitoes don't know what to do when they come to my forearms or shins. They can't maneuver through the jungle like their Canadian counterparts, so I am never bitten there... HOWEVER, that means they go for other parts like the soles of my feet. I don't know how they do it, but they do and it is worst place to get bit. It actually stings.

You may wonder why I'm making light of such a situation. At first, that's all I thought about when these flies were about. Since then I've adopted the Ghanaian frame of mind - do what you can to avoid getting bitten, but if you do, don't get freaked out about it. They are very passive when it comes to this and the thought of getting malaria is more associated with inevitability than fear. Luckily, we live in a country where the medications needed are plentiful, and more importantly, the average Ghanaian can afford them. I shouldn't completely adopt their passiveness when it comes to malaria; after all, their exposure has made them less susceptible and their bouts less dramatic. All I know is that I think I had malaria a few weeks ago and it wasn't fun but that's not going to stop me from walking the beach as dusk.

In my attempt to revive my blog, I've added the two past group emails to the site. For anyone who I've ever met, they are repeats of what I sent them, but for those random viewers - enjoy.

So I'm at work trying to kill time before I head off to the Canadian High Commission for their monthly social. I guess it's their attempt to bring Canadians who are living in Accra together to meet every 1st Thursday of the month.

I'm adding a link to a video I took of the Wlii waterfalls back in September. I thought they were beautiful and being able to swim in the shallow waters was amazing. The guy who wrote the Brandt Guide to Ghana didn't have fantastic things to say about it and I've since then taken the book with a grain of salt (but it's still very useful, so get it if you're coming). There was a scenic 45 minute walk to the falls were you could pick cocoa fruit off the trees. The seeds that have the cocoa don't have any value without processing, but the white slimy coat over the seeds tastes EXACTLY like jolly ranchers. Crazy Awesome.



I've also been trying my hand in the Ghanaian kitchen. First I'm grinding ginger for a sauce, then I'm tending to groundnut soup, which is one of my favourites. They eat it with rice balls. So good. But cooking all the time! Sheesh! "Man! I feel like a woman!" haha, hey is sexism justified when it's used to add 'random Shania Twain quotes'? I think it is. And I'm the author.




I'd like to tell you about a new aspect to my job that's stressing me out. We deal with refugees and sometimes they come from places where having refugee status is really valuable, like Liberia where there is war and people want to leave, understandibly. So I guess it has happened where people will pretend to be someone else because that someone else has a free ticket out of there (ie refugee status). Ok, so when these refugees come to my office to do health checkups and whatever else, they also need to do an ID check to make sure they are who they say they are and since policy states that the Ghanaians in my office aren't allowed to confirm this ID check (in case there's a conflict of interest), they asked me to do it. So I look at photo IDs and at the refugees to see if it matches up. First of all, it sounds easy, but if you knew how often/drastic women change their hair styles here, you'd know that sometimes it's really freakin hard. Second of all, the reprocusions of my saying that the person isn't the person in the photo are life shattering. It means that the refugee status is revoked and they go back to where ever they came from. Of course, if I get it right, then it's good that I caught them before heading off to North American or Europe. But, the stress involved in a false negative is huge. Luckily I haven't had any close calls. Everyone has fit the bill. I do enjoy the chore though. I get a chance to meet basically every west African refugee heading for the western world for a few moments. And with the childern I try to make light of the situation... Regardless, I can't expect them to be not nervous considering I'm this strange white man randomly involved in their fate. And the children traveling alone... I can't imagine what their lives must have been like until that point. Not only to leave your country and go to another one, but all by yourself without parents. Rough.