Crusader Codi

This Sunday (for the first time in years) I went to church. One of our translators, Emmanuel, is involved in a Pentecostal Christian Church in Bolga, and he offered to drive all 5 of us girls over on Sunday morning. At 7:45, we hopped into the bed of Emmanuel’s mother’s blue flat bed truck and rode over. Upon arriving, we first spotted the ladies of the choir, all wearing traditional Ghanaian dresses (made from matching fabric with the faces of the pastor and his wife printed on the cloth—interesting…) Church members started to fill the rows of plastic chairs: children filling the left side, older women who don’t speak English sat on the right where a woman translated the sermon into Fra Fra for them. Everyone wore their finest Ghanaian-patterned shirts and dresses in bright colors and intricate patterns. They wandered and chatted their way in, and the choir began to sing. Instead of pipe organs or pianos, the choir responded to the beautifully belted calls of the lead singer and only a drum set accompanied the songs. Their jubilant melodies begged even our prudent American toes to tap and shoulders to sway. They praised in English, so I could usually sing along after a couple of repetitions of the chorus. Drawing the congregation together in song, everyone began to rise up and move toward the front, dancing and clapping along with the choir. The glee was contagious. We spent more than half of the 2.5 hour service singing and dancing on our feet—ideal church format for me! The rest of the service comprised strongly emphasized (yelled) Bible verses and a (somewhat repetitive, but very positive) sermon about progress. Key phrases: “Wisdom is the key to progress!” and also “Fathers are like feathers! You need your Fathers to fly!” In general, I found the experience delightful. It was such a joy to share the ebullience of their praise.

From my experiences so far in Accra and Bolga, it seems that religion is an important part of Ghanaian culture. Both Christianity and Islam are well represented in the population (according to my travel guide book). As we drove north, we saw mosques, but I haven’t encountered many Muslim Ghanaians so far. Christians, on the other hand, have made their presence clear in both Accra and Bolga. Taxis spread His word with phrases like “THY WILL BE DONE,” “TRUST IN GOD,” and (beautifully spelled) “BELIVER.” Stores and restaurants include religious figures in their titles—our favorite so far is “KING JESUS CHEMICALS.” And I see many people wearing rosaries and crosses as they walk around.

The “religiousity” of Ghana might be best demonstrated by this fact: in only 2 weeks, I’ve already been deemed a crusader for Christ. Yesterday around 4:00, it began to rain. Straight, heavy, mercifully cool rain. So of course several of us girls had to go frolic in the rain. We splashed over to the Catholic Social Center’s amphitheater where we found ample space to leap about and soak it in. During our rain dance, we heard giggles from a nearby covered porch. The Catholic Youth Organization (CYO)—a group of about 20 kids ranging from 3 to 13 years old—delighted in watching us ridiculous Americans. We beckoned them to join us, and soon they were showing us their dance moves. These kids were fantastic! We stood in a circle and clapped some rather intricate rhythms as each kid took turns skillfully stomping and jumping in the center. Allison, Rachel, and I each took our turns in the middle, too, trying to imitate their style (and earning gleeful laughter—they thought we were hilarious!) After a good 40 minutes of dancing, the CYO leaders gathered the kids up for closing announcements, etc. They welcomed us Americans to their group and went around introducing themselves with their Christian “crusader” names: Crusader Charles, Crusader Nancy, Crusader Joseph, Crusader Emmanuela, Crusader Cecilia, Crusader Peter, Crusader Rita. The gathering ended with Allison’s, Rachel’s, and my induction as “crusaders.” What is your crusader name? they asked. “Crusader Codi!”

By the way, here is the Catholic Social Center address, where you can reach me via snail mail:

Catholic Social Center
PO Box 5
Bolgatanga, Upper East Region
Ghana

Ghana-time 3

Kejetia

After settling into Bolga for a day, the whole group (professors, Ghanaian colleagues and all) headed off to the gold-mining community: Kejetia. Our hired driver navigated our high-lighter yellow van along the bumpy, twisty, pitted, dusty roads from Bolga to Kejetia. A mere 7 mile distance on the GPS requires 45 minutes to drive! But it’s a beautiful drive. Compounds of mud huts are clumped near the shade of Baobabs’ thick canopies. We saw sets of cows or donkeys pulling plows and digging stripes across the fields. Rock walls (only about a foot high) create terraces along the hill sides. Men drive hoes into the earth like hammers. Women and small children gather around NGO-installed water pumps, cranking the lever up and down to fill basins for laundry and drinking. We pass school buildings with flocks of kids in orange shirts and brown dresses or shorts (the uniform for all Ghanaian public schools). The younger children always wave with alacrity and sometimes even run alongside the bright yellow van as we drive along.

Kejetia. Kejetia is a community that formed within the last 25 years to mine gold. Families continue to flow into and out of the village seeking a better living than subsistence farming somewhere else. They build their mud huts in haphazard rows only meters away from open mining shafts (that are 10-15 meters deep! Real safe, right?) Grinding machines roar, pulverizing new rock from below, while women do laundry in their plastic sandals near by. Mothers strap their babies to their backs as they sift the dusty crushed rock. When we visited the community, they demonstrated the mercury amalgamation—adding quicksilver to a “slurry” of water and powdered rock containing gold flecks. The flecks clumped to the mercury like iron to a magnet forming a sticky silvery ball. Then the men used a blow torch to burn off the mercury (without any face protection or vents to contain the noxious Hg gas!) leaving an 80% pure golden lump. The children played only a meter away.

So far, I have only spent 3 days working in Kejetia. Our professors left this Monday, and now we forge ahead into our study. My fellow researchers and I are joined by 3 Ghanaians interpreters (they translate our English questions into FraFra). We have finished 5 surveys so far (only 115 more to go)! Surveying is long (hot) work, but it is so gratifying. The women who I have worked with so far welcome us and share their time so graciously. I only wish we could offer them more immediate, tangible care and help.

The children are my favorite. Since Ghanaian schools teach in English, the children can communicate quite well. They are fascinated by digital cameras. “Will you take my picture?” they request, and then they scurry to see the image on the little screen. I smile at them, and their bright white grins nearly spill off their little dark faces. Yesterday, Mozghon and I were surveying an elderly woman for over 2 hours. The kids hovered nearby the whole time (and trust me, it was boring to watch) because they were so amazed at our presence. At the end of the survey, while Mozhgon was taking biological samples, I pulled the kids to the side for a silly combination of “yoga stretches”/follow the leader/the hokey-pokey. We jumped up and down, spun in circles, touched our toes, balanced on one foot and clapped together. I loved it.

*Ghana-time: Time here passes differently than time in the States. It is slow and thick, like honey. Everyone is perpetually stuck in that lazy after-lunch stupor when the heat and food corroborate to lull you to sleep. Ghanaians flow along with this relaxed pace. We Americans don’t quite understand: we expect our meal served within 15 minutes (not an hour and a half) at the restaurant; we expect the hotel lobby to call our taxis to be called ahead of time when we ask; we expect the meetings to start on time (or at least on “Michigan time” haha); we expect the car ride to last 45 minutes (but flat tires—three so far—dirt roads, frequent ditches, etc happen often here). Poor Americans, trying to squeeze Ghana into our organized timetable. Nope. Ghana teaches me patience. You’re in Ghana. Be.

Wow...there is so much more I want to say... alas, I have already been sitting in the internet cafe for >3 hours! Look forward to more posts soon. I want to tell you about the "religiousity" in Bolga, give you food reviews, tell you more about my fellow researchers and translators (it's a great group!), and hopefully give updates on our study!

Sending my love!

Codi

Ghana-time 2

Bolga

On the 20^th of May we departed for the North. We barely caught our 8:00 am bus (despite plans and efforts to take taxis to the station at 5:50 am…ah Ghana-time*). During our 13 hour bus ride, we passed through the tropical southern regions full of palm trees. Families gathered in the shade, students in their matching school uniforms and hand-me-down backpacks ran along the side of the road, women tended stands displaying pyramids of tomatoes, mangoes, cassava, and plantains. The tin-roofed buildings and houses advertised cell phone companies in bright hues of “Glo” lime green, “Vodofone” red, and “MTN” yellow. Ghana presents a strange juxtaposition of technology (like cell phones) with traditional living (like subsistence farming).

We spent the night in Tamale, and in the morning our group of 12 completed our voyage to Bolgatanga (or as it shall heretofore be called, Bolga) in a huge van with luggage piled on top. Along the ride, the tropical scenery changed to bucolic landscapes. “Goats! No, that’s a sheep! Those are goats! Cows! Chickens! Ooo, a guinea fowl!” Lime green, red, and yellow structures were replaced by huts with red-mud walls and beautifully thatched roofs. Palm trees became scrubby bushes and Baobab trees punctuating fields littered with scraps of plastic bags and trash.

Although slightly delayed with a flat tire on the outskirts of Bolga, we made it to the Catholic Social Center by noon. The 5 girls, my fellow researchers and I, share a dorm room with 6 “Madeline-style” twin beds all in a line. We have two ceiling fans, one sheet on each bed, screens on our windows, and a sink in the corner. It’s really quite homey. There are 4 showers and 4 toilets across the courtyard from our room, metal basins for washing clothes, and clothes lines strung around the courtyard’s perimeter. The courtyard is perfect for morning yoga (yes, I brought my yoga mat with me!) Mary, the Social Center manager, greets us as we head out “to the field” for research or down the street for mangoes; she keeps an eye out for us.

Bolga is adorable. I much prefer it to the hectic bustle of Accra. Bolga is quaint and quiet. We can walk to the bank, the “supermarket,” any of the three restaurants (Comme si comme sa, Swaps, or Traveler’s Inn), and the Internet Café (where I am currently seated—I bought three hours this time…the internet is a bit slower than I’m used to and I barely checked my email on the first attempt earlier this week). Ghanaian hospitality reaches a whole new level in Bolga. Children eagerly say hel-LO-o and wave as we pass. The women smile and offer a reserved “Bulika” (good morning) and a couple men even asked us to marry them (luckily men don’t pester us in general). We definitely draw attention with our big backpacks and light skin, but I feel safe here. There are tons of goats and sheep wandering along the streets (taxis and motorbikes honk to shoo them out of the way). Pigs nudge through the contents open sewer/drainage-ditches lining the road, and skinny, scrappy dogs poke into the shops.

Continued...

Ghana-time 1

Bulika (Good morning)! Greetings from Ghana!!! I hope the following posts find you all well back in the Midwest (or wherever you may be)! I apologize in advance for their collective length, but internet and time have been hard to come by and there is just so much to share.

Ghana is AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!

Accra

After a 10 hour plane ride from JFK, I plunged into the bustling city of Accra. Taxis, motorbikes, and huge trucks fill the streets with acrid fumes. Street vends weave through the halted traffic, offering ground nuts, slices of papaya, chunks of sugarcane, bottles of “Voltic” water (our sole water source), water “sachets” (water in a plastic bag—not as regulated, so we don’t drink these), sticks of gum, cheap Chinese-manufactured toys and clothes. They carry all of these things in basins balanced on top of their heads!

In Accra, we spent our time attending meetings and taking taxi rides to and from the University of Ghana “Guest Chalets.” Our professors had contacts and friends at U of G, the American Embassy, the Ghana Health Service, and the Minerals Commission, and we discussed our research goals and hopes for collaboration with these Ghanaian schools and organizations. I felt so important meeting Deans and other Ghanaian officials, but I can’t lie—the meetings got a little long as we described our project and goals over and over.

Continued...

Packing

Hello!---hello--hello--lo-lo-o (for some reason I image cyberspace as a bright white voluminous space with an echo). I'm new at this blogging business, so welcome to my blog and I hope the inter-nets will welcome me as well...

Episode 1: Packing

I'm packing again. This is at least the 7th time I've packed up my life to move to a new dorm room, apartment, country, etc in the past four years. Funny, every time I pack, I inevitably end up spending half the time unpacking the events, memories, and junk that came before. It has been fun to "unpack" college a bit:

...Meeting my beloved freshman year roommate on my first day at Couzens (who I soon learned ironed her dollar bills and referenced her mother "Eleanor" daily)
...Doing yoga under glorious pink New Zealand sunrises and on tranquil Santa Barbara beaches
...Drinking RoosRoast pre-sunrise and balancing 3 plates as I deliver orders at SELMA
...Wheel-barrow-ing cement blocks to clear space for a "tranquility garden" that my ASB group built in Washington DC
...Eating oatmeal with craisons on the colorful mats of the RussYog studio to start the day
...Singing about everything from Coronation Masses, to drunken sailors, to cows and panthers with Arts Chorale
...Giving bjs to a miniature blow-up doll in a theatrical version of "Airplane"
...Slack-lining across the Nott's lawn with a colorful umbrella for balance
...Concocting stir fry creations with local veggies and good friends

I recycled many old notes from class. I donated a heap of clothes to Good Will. I've been listening to the Graduation mix that Ebeth made us and singing "To Sir, With Love" and the Avett Brothers with nostalgia. Thank you to everyone who played a part in my amazing undergraduate college experience. Thank you to my roommates, my hallmates, my housemates. Thank you to all the class partners, professors, bosses, enthusiastic Arts Choralers, RC Players, fellow AW and ASB volunteers, SELMA friends, boy friends, girl friends, KAMSC peeps, sophisticats, hipsters, loving family members, and strangers-who-I-made-eye-contact-with-every-time-I-passed-you-on-the-diag. Thank you to all who helped me learn, grow and create myself throughout the past 21 years. I love you all.

Ok, now I'm ready to start packing for Ghana, Africa.

I fly out this Monday morning to Ghana, where I will help conduct public health research for the next 8 weeks. The group includes several professors from U of M's School of Public Health, 2 public health graduate students, several Ghanaian students, and 2 other freshly graduated seniors from PitE (like me!). Our study has evolved from pilot studies completed during the past 2 summers, and it focuses on the health outcomes of small scale gold mining in a rural village in Northern Ghana. See, when the Ghanaians mine gold, they dig up rocks, grind the rocks into a powder, and add MERCURY to bind the gold particles and pull them out of the rock. As I'm sure you're aware, mercury = bad news for both human and environment health.

Our job is to survey about 120 miners and family members living in this mining village. In our survey, we ask many questions (about their family, nutrition, socioeconomic status, and health) and collect biological measures (including hair and urine samples, blood pressure, and lung function). This year, we are also analyzing water quality and drinking water sources for villagers. Most of the villagers speak Fra-Fra (one of 46 languages spoken in Ghana), so we will have the help of 3 interpreters as we conduct our surveys...I'm so excited!

As I pack this time, I have gathered a rather different set of supplies than I needed for my move into Couzens Hall in 2007. I'm leaving my pink winter hat and hanging closet organizer at home in favor of some fashionable zip-off hiking pants and Malaria medication. (I still have my shower shoes though!) I don't know if I will have frequent access to internet when I'm staying in Bolgatanga, but I will try to share stories and updates from Ghana as much as possible.

Signing off for now,
C#