Art Worlds in Ghana

Thursday, July 2

On Monday we finally had the Environmentalism Day I’ve been working on for the past couple weeks. It was supposed to be Friday, but it got pushed to Monday because of a sports day issued last minute by the Department of Education, which then got postponed due to lack of funding. But we kept our day on Monday anyway.

I’m really happy we did it. I’m proud of the kids and thankful to Ebinezer, Kelvin, and all the other teachers and sponsors who helped make it happen. Still, I have some lingering regrets, which I’ll get to soon.

David's group (David's in the striped polo) had their bags almost full before we even got to the beach

I came up with the idea for the day when I was going for a run on the beach. It was covered in trash. I was leaping over sachets and old flip flops, and I felt like I was in one of those video games where you have to avoid the alligators or hot lava. This is really sad, I thought.

I remembered a man I’d met at a recording session with the JAC the week before, who’d just been working in Ada Foah with endangered turtles. He said that there was not much environmental awareness in the area, and that people struggling to get food each day could hardly afford to care. It occurred to me, hey, I’m at a school, working with kids. I can do something about this.

I thought back to the diversity and activism days we’d had at my small Brooklyn high school, Berkeley Carroll (BC). I wanted to have a day like that here focused on the environment, along with a beach clean-up. I figured I could start off the day by talking about global warming and environmentalism; we could do a line-walk activity like the Walk of Privilege we used to have at BC (the whole school lines up and we read off statements like, “Step forward if you reuse your plastic bags and bottles,” or, “Step backward if you don’t have access to running water in your home”); we could train a group of students to lead discussions; and we could have a beach clean-up competition with sponsors and prizes.

Ebinezer and I got Brightest Restaurant to provide lunch to the winning team. Kelvin helped us get Club Rubstone (pronounced Robstone – also the place where we’re putting on the play) to throw a little party give sodas (“minerals”) and biscuits to the winning teams. We contacted the Department of Sanitation, and with only a week’s notice (we did this thing spoontaneously), it was too late for them to provide latex gloves. They would like to participate in the future, though, and they agreed to help us dispose of the trash afterwards, so that we wouldn’t have to burn it in a pit the way we usually do. (It’s seriously disgusting, you can’t walk through the town without smelling burning trash. Barbeques are never going to be the same to me. There is no adequate waste disposal here, so the people have no choice.

Ebinezer directed the kids back to school.

Ebinezer and I went by Radio Ada, the local station, and asked them to announce the day on the radio. Mr. Isaac, the nice man there, thought our project sounded great and invited me to come back and talk on the radio. That’s what I did this morning, which was pretty cool, though I didn’t get to hear the interview they put on tonight because I’m in Accra.

Ebinezer and Kelvin were all excited about Environmentalism Day and said they would continue it every year after I’m gone. I was thrilled. And then, I was disappointed, a little.

I led a couple of prep sessions with my Environmentalism Day leaders. I gave them a 101 on the environment (which they sorely needed), challenged their ideas (“okay, but why do you think that”), had them challenge me (some of them didn’t actually think global warming was bad at first. They said, “Hey, we like the sun.”), came up with discussion questions (“How can we deal with waste better and conserve more?”), and practiced icebreaker games (does anyone out there know the game, “I like people who like”?). It was intense, and we left the sessions feeling invigorated. I told them, “I’m counting on you to inspire your classmates.” They nodded.

On the day of, the kids had a blast with the beach clean-up. They got really into the competition and loved the prizes. They were collecting trash on the way over, and we had to stop them so that we could finally get to the beach.

"Step forward if you dispose of bottles or cans after using them, or backward if you leave them where mosquitoes can lay their eggs."

Mark, in the striped shirt, was one of the leaders running a group discussion. At this very moment, he might have been asking, "What causes global warming?"or "How much of a problem is waste? Is it a problem?"

In a break between activities, the kids chatted with me about what Ghanaian food I eat. "You like banku? And fufu? Oh, that is good, madame. And okra stew? And plantains?"

The kids played the drum to signal the end of break.

The environmentalism part, though, I’m not so sure they got. Listening in on some of the discussions, I could tell they didn’t always know what they were talking about. They would say things like, “We have to stop throwing our trash on the street because it is heating the earth.” They had all these concepts and information being thrown at them, and I guess it got jumbled. They were earnest and they meant it, but they didn’t really get it.

One of the discussion questions was, “Make a list of the top 5 problems in the world. Is global warming on that list?” Practically every group had global warming as number one, even though that morning during the line-walk, hardly anyone stepped forward for, “if you could have given a definition of global warming before today.”

“Really?” I said to the group. “You all think that global warming is the number one problem? Yesterday you didn’t know what it was.” They stared at me. “Why? Why do you think global warming is so important?”

Finally, one of the boys spoke up, “Because we need to take care of our Earth so that we can keep on living.”

(Interestingly, most of the groups’ other top world problems were natural disasters like volcanoes, earthquakes, and tornadoes. I guess things like the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, America’s occupation of Iraq, the modern slave trade, incarceration rates, and even poverty don’t make it into conversation much here.)

Christian's group (Christian's crouching down in the pale pink polo) won for collecting the most trash.

Christian (here in the blue uniform shirt) and his group celebrated their win. Slim (in the striped tee and pink skirt), another group leader, was clearly pleased...

At the end of the day at Rubstone, we had an open circle where people could come forward and share thoughts, reflections, or something they’d learned, à la Berkeley Carroll diversity day. No one stepped forward. Kelvin asked the group leaders to say something, and they all spoke about how proud they were of their groups for the clean-up competition. None of them said a word about the environment, until Christian, the last leader, whose group had gotten first place. He just added, “and for helping global warming!” The kids cheered.

We gathered at Rubstone (pronounced Robstone) to share reflections and present the prizes, but no one had any reflections to share.

I don’t expect them to suddenly be environmental activists, and I know it’s going to take more than a day for environmentalism to sink in. I’m glad I helped to get the conversation started, and I’m glad they’re going to do it again next year. I hope a few of them go home and get their families to start recycling water sachets (there’s a company that will pay you for them!). I hope they try to reuse plastic bags and bottle more, and not toss their trash on the street. Maybe some people will take in what I said on the radio. Maybe a government official will hear my plea for better waste disposal in the area. Still, I felt a little sad as I picked up discarded biscuit wrappers of the floor of Rubstone, just hours after we’d cleaned the beach and talked about better waste practices.

I do think the day had an impact on some of them, though. For the others, I say, next time, and the time after that.

Sunday, June 13

It was amazing to be in Ghana for the football match against Serbia (soccer to you Americans). I saw it from the GBC clubhouse (Ghana Broadcast Corporation), cause Kelvin had to film there for Haverford prof Jesse Shipley’s documentary on the world cup (Jesse is the person who connected me with Kelvin).

We were gathered around a big projection outside where there was a huge array of chairs. Few people were sitting in them, though. They were all dancing, shouting, and blowing kazoos. People kept grabbing my hand and asking who I supported. They were thrilled when I would say, “Ghana, of course.”

Some were snapping pictures, and Kelvin wasn’t the only one filming. GBC had its own video camera on site, and every now and then we would see ourselves on the screen.

When Ghana scored, the crowd went wild. Everyone was jumping up and down, running through the aisles, shouting, and waving Ghana flags.

I was having a great time, although I felt a little out of place as practically the only person not covered in red, gold, and green. And I mean literally covered. There was one man clothed only in body paint and a pair of tighty whities.

At first I was sitting toward the front with Kelvin’s friend Lexis (Kelvin was on the side filming), but later I moved to the back to get some space and write in my journal while I watched. After Ghana won, a man with a camera ran up to me and said that the man with the mic wanted to ask me a question. People were beckoning me forward. I got up and headed to the front.

The man asked me where I was from and said he was going to ask me a quick question. In a few moments, I saw us on the screen.

“We have a visitor from the US,” he said, patting my shoulder. He turned to me and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” I shouted over the crowd. “I’m happy Ghana won.”

A moment later, when I saw people from across Accra being interviewed by other people with G-TV mics, I realized that it wasn’t just us at the clubhouse watching ourselves on the screen. I’d been on Ghana National TV.

A minute later, we were up on the screen again. Surrounded by wild fans, I danced and cheered as I watched myself on TV.

Saturday, June 12

Okay, now I know why I barely got one “obruni” in Accra before. It was because the whole time, I was with Kelvin and Lexis.

I went out in Accra by myself for the first time today, and I got a million obrunis. I also got my first marriage proposal (I was told I’d get a ton), although I suppose it wasn’t a proposal exactly. The man just said, “I am going to marry you. How do you feel about that?”

I was supposed to meet up with Naa, another Haverford student, but I never heard from her. It turned out she’d been locked out of her house without her phone. Anyway, I decided to go out on my own, and Kelvin gave me directions.

I went all over Accra: to the National Museum; Makola Market; and Osu, a district with restaurants, shopping, and clubs.

The museum was small but interesting. It had an upstairs and a downstairs that were maybe the size of two rooms at the Brooklyn Museum, and I was the only visitor. There were some interesting artifacts and photographs, and a lot about the first Ghanaian President, Kwame Nkrumah. Sadly, I think I was most excited by the bathroom, which had a mirror. There are never mirrors here, not in bathrooms or anywhere. I know it sounds vain, but I’ve missed them. I was so excited I didn’t mind that the toilet didn’t flush.

Afterwards, I headed to Makola. I managed to get through the market without getting haggled into anything, though I’m looking forward to going back later and bargaining. I bought some coconut juice on the street to sustain me through the tro-tro to Osu. I drank it straight from the rough brown shell.

In Osu, I managed to shake off the street vendors who were attacking me. I tried my first Ghanaian ice cream at the downstairs in Frankie’s hotel – vanilla cake gelato. I went upstairs to use the bathroom and they had a mirror too! And liquid soap. What an exciting day. I ambled out with my ice cream in hand, and the US-UK match was just starting. There was a huge crowd gathered around a screen in the street. I sat myself on the curb and made friends with the kids next to me.

I didn’t get lost the whole day until it was time to go home. I was standing on the corner waiting for a tro-tro or shared taxi, but none of them were going in my direction. Everyone at the outdoor café wanted to talk to me, but no one wanted to tell me I was on the wrong side of the street.

When I finally got a tro-tro, I took it too far and missed my stop. Ugh. Kelvin and Lexis came to pick me up in the car, and I got home in one piece.

It had been a long and adventurous day. A good day in Accra.

(A rice dish with tomatoes, onions, spices, and meat if you like)

This is a recipe for the amazing jollof Kelvin made for brunch on Saturday. It’s missing a few details here and there which I tried to fill in, but you can experiment a little and I’m sure it will still be delicious.

Ingredients:

Rice (he didn’t say how much but he used one plastic package that looked to be about a pound)

Tomatoes – fresh and tins (he used a few tins, I think of tomato paste)

Spices – pepper, garlic, ginger, etc. if desired

Vegetable oil

Salt

Meat, chicken, or fish if desired (already cooked)

Vegetables (any). Can also replace meat, etc.

Directions:

Pour a little oil in the bottom of a pan. Add sliced onions and let lightly brown. Add tins of tomatoes and stir to mix with onions. Keep stirring until oil turns a reddish brown. Add spices; stir for two minutes. Add fresh tomatoes; stir for two minutes. If you need to, add some water, just enough to keep the sauce from burning.

Leave to cook for five minutes. Only stir to keep it from burning.

If you re using meat or fish, have it sliced, salted, cooked, and fried already. These can be chopped to the size of half-tomatoes.

Add the meat to the sauce and stir, then add a little water.

Okay, Kelvin’s recipe stops here. After this, I think you basically just add the rice (pour the bag of uncooked rice right in). Mix it in and let it cook for about 45 minutes, stirring every once in a while. There will probably already be enough water in the pot that you don’t need any more. I think that should work, but I’ll get back to you if Kelvin tells me otherwise.

Enjoy. It’s deeelicious.

Saturday, June 5

I did my first bargaining yesterday.

It was raining and I need an umbrella. The streets were filled with women selling them off their heads. We stopped the first woman who walked by us, and she said a small umbrella was ¢7 (cedis, worth about $1.40. It’s pronounced like CDs but with an emphasis on the C instead of the D).­­

“Six,” Kelvin said.

That still seemed high to me. I said I thought it looked four, though I didn’t mind paying five.

The woman said she’d settle for ¢5.50, and I agreed. But neither of us had the right change, so I said not to worry about it, I was okay paying almost six. She smiled and looked very grateful.

I’m glad I was able to make her happy, because the 95 pesewas (pronounced pess-ways; like cents) probably meant more to her than they did to me. All the same, I opened my umbrella and felt a little cheated. It was flimsy, already wet, and faded yellow at the folds.

It’s a thin line with bargaining. I don’t want to deprive this woman of having dinner tonight, but then again I don’t want to be taken advantage of just because I’m a foreigner. I’ll have to find the right balance. Hopefully I’ll figure it out soon.