Gone To Ghana

All Because Of Pigs

 

There is a boy, who attends Kongo Senior High in the upper most part of Ghana, where we do our volunteer work. He is completing his fourth and final year. I first met SAMSON APELEJE in 2009-10 when he was second year and I was teaching English to his class. I became more familiar with Samson when he joined the choir assembled by ‘yours truly’. Whether in choir or English class it was notable that Samson, without exception, had a very serious demeanor, seemingly intent on giving his best.

 

I arrive in 2011. Those 2009 choir members not yet graduated sang two of the songs I had taught them – it was a much appreciated gift to me upon returning. Samson’s pleasant baritone voice was present, blending nicely with the other voices.

 

At the first rehearsal I picked up where we left off and introduced new songs. Samson was obviously not well, overcoming Malaria.  Yet, he determinedly took part. In a few days he had recovered.

 

Recently, after having just finished a choir practice, Samson helped me take my trombone and other bags to my motorcycle for packing. I took the opportunity to ask questions about how he came to be in high school, as I often find it remarkable story of struggle – less than 12% of students starting primary make it to high school.

 

“My mother and father no longer live. I was orphaned while in junior high. I had no means to pay the fees for high school”, says Samson.

 

You see, the fee for one year is 279 cedis, or roughly $200. This does not include food. 

 

”I knew I must make a plan if I am to have any hope for furthering my education. So I  got a heavy hammer and started making gravel.”

 

 I knew what he was talking about. Men often go to where there are large rocks close to where a road will be built and do the arduous job of making little rocks out of large rocks, and selling the completed pile to the contractor making the road. You can earn as much as 400 cedis in one month. It is extremely hard work and not a consistent means of income. So this was just ‘start-up money’ for Samson.

 

“So I took that money and I bought two pigs, one male and one female.”

 

With the help of neighbors, his pig farm grew to eight. He periodically sold, with proceeds going to school fees. Sometimes people did him a favor by giving him the money for the Christmas pig in September, thus allowing him to go to school. The pig was delivered in December.

 

“I hope to become a veterinarian …God be willing”.

 

All because of pigs.

 

 May the echoes of oinks take this incredible young man far!

 

Ghana, and those reading this, should feel proud of him on what he has already accomplished. His story is one of inspiration.

 

Note: The only picture I have of him is during very serious choir practice. He is in the middle back row wearing a white shirt.

 

 

-David Stone

Pervasive childhood under-nutrition has significant negative impact on growth, intelligence, and ability to learn in rural Ghana. Support a new school lunch program for these children and get our Beautiful Calendar for 2011.  A PERFECT HOLIDAY GIFT for teachers, coworkers, travelers, and those interested in developing countries.  Available for shipping December 30.

A SAMPLE OF CALENDAR PHOTOS:

CLICK THIS LINK TO WATCH OUR Gone to Ghana slideshow

Cost: $25 / calendar + $2 shipping / 1 calendar.     $5 shipping / 3-10 calendars

TO ORDER CALENDARS:

If paying by check, make checks payable to: Yakote Women Farmers Association. (Be sure to include your address for shipping.)

Mail checks to:   Ghana Calendar     1110 SE Flavel St.       Portland, OR   97202

Have you ever wondered how a family in the 21st century can possibly live on $400/year? Can you imagine carrying all your water for cooking and bathing in a basin on your head, living in a mud room with a thatched roof, and having no access to electricity or a gas vehicle? Meet these people and learn about their lives.

The Gone to Ghana Calendar for 2011 is the result of months spent in villages along the back roads of Ghana, West Africa. Our goal is to give John Q. Public a front row seat in learning about the life of rural Ghanaians. What better way to learn than by provocative photography and insightful journalism on topics from marriage and livelihood to food supply and transportation.

This is an 11″ x 8 1/2″ wall calendar, each unique photo includes supporting text to add further ‘life’ to the West African scene.

The calendar sales and related donations serve as our primary fund raising event for providing food staples for the Guanwarre School lunch program and an infant/toddler nutrition center, both in northern Ghana.  Purchasing the food staples for the coming year are underway with  fellow volunteers Marilyn and Lou Schuster now in Ghana (their second trip as volunteers to this area) for a one month stay.  David and Lisa will be in Ghana the following fall (2011) to do more food purchases and continue their ongoing projects in education and medicine.

All of the money received for calendars goes directly to purchase food staples at Ghanaian open air village markets, as well as printing of the calendars. The Schusters, and Lisa and David, cover all of their own costs in visiting Ghana – airfare, lodging, food, and transportation. The graphic design and editing services for the calendar are also donated.

Please realize that your purchase and/or donation has significant impact on hundreds of rural Ghanaian families. We truly appreciate your support for a cause close to our hearts. Calendars available for immediate shipping.

Warm Regards,   Lisa and David

 

If you have questions:  email lisak.revell@gmail.com

To Market, To Market

Market day is a big deal here, but before you can start furiously bargaining and counting out your bowls of beans and millet, you have to get there. Yesterday I went over to the clinic, from where I was going to ride into Bolgatanga in the clinic truck. I was supposed to be back to the clinic by 11am or so, but in Ghana time is somewhat irrelevant. I waited for the driver to come home from the local market, and then for him to bathe, before we left. It was three hours before we left, and then we

made one stop on the way—and the stop was even pre-planned! It was pretty amazing, considering.

It wasn’t market day in Bolga today, but there were still plenty of women walking around with huge bowls of food on their heads. When you add in all the bicycles and motos that drive through the narrow rows between stalls, you have to be prepared to duck or leap out of the way at any moment. Walking side by side is not a very smart choice.

Other than the endless fascination of seeing heavy loads balanced on small women’s heads, my favorite part about market is watching people bargain. The women run the rice, millet, wheat, and beans through their fingers, checking for weevils and probably lots of other little bugs and things that I don’t know about—and that I’m just fine not knowing about. (They don’t mind if you touch the grains or even eat a dried herring or two, but I learned a good lesson yesterday: DON’T touch the dowa dowa! I still don’t know why.) Then they talk on and on about the price of what they’re getting. They have very heated arguments, which bear no resemblance whatsoever to buying food in the US, unless you’re an extremely rude customer. It’s quite exciting to watch and listen to, but I don’t know if I’m fierce enough to get a good price.

I remember someone saying that you can argue the price of anything here, even your hospital bills. And they will not give you even one pesewa extra. But then again, they do always seem to heap a bit of extra rice in the bag that you didn’t officially buy. Courtesy, I suppose, and custom.

Anyway, once you’ve decided on the price, you stand there in the hot, hot sun and count as they measure out your purchase. If you don’t, uh-oh. They might cheat you one or two bowls of millet. Which if you ask me, isn’t such a big sacrifice if it saves you hours of time, but I actually enjoyed standing there and counting to ten almost 100 times. Everything feels different when time isn’t a commodity. Maybe that’s why they spend so much time greeting and goodbye-ing. They’re not trying to “save” time, they’re trying to save their relationships—because your relationships with people are how you define yourself here.

So if you, reader, ever go to market in northern Ghana, don’t forget to stay and count your rice. You might not get every grain you paid for, and you won’t get to know the lady who’s selling it to you. Besides, it will probably be some time before you can catch a ride home.

–Britney (Lisa and David’s niece)

Body Recall a la Afrique!

It is another hot day in north Ghana, though all natives would call it cold, it being about 88 degrees by mid-morning. Lisa Revell, my wife and a Body Recall instructor, hops on her bike to travel the 2 miles to see her early patients needing chiropractic care before starting the 9 A.M Body Recall class (Lisa is a retired chiropractor). I, with volunteers Lou and Marilyn, arrive at 9:00 to partake.

As with most things African, we actually get started late at around 9:20, as chairs and benches need to be set up for a class larger than anticipated. The students are mostly women, most past mid sixties, some into their early 80s. The majority of them are no longer capable of hauling large water containers on their heads from the well to their home, though some say they can still make two trips with a bucket in the morning. Lisa stands by with her translator ready to teach!

“Let’s take off our shoes, and put them underneath the bench …sit tall, straight back,…… feet flat on the floor….. “ and then raising the arms, and without verbal directions, the class collectively takes the traditional Body Recall deep breath. Class begins.

I am one of the students, but sometimes divert my attention to admire the focus of other students. I am so struck by the scene that I ‘snap’ a few pictures, and even do a bit of video. Like in the USA, it is clear the lesson will do good, as the leaning to the right and left, the raising of legs, and the straight backs all improve as the class progresses.

We start the music …. it is a c.d. of a Ghanaian musician who just debuted his music. People know it well here, and it is an instant hit for the class! It is sung in Nab’t, a language with fewer than one million speakers, and accompanied by catchy African drumming,. They watch Lisa carefully, but now with bright-toothed smiles. Many are starting to add varied gyrations to the movements Lisa makes. The song is long, giving Lisa the idea to start a more impromtu-styled activity. It seems the older and least flexible now become the most creative and happy dancers! It is quite the scene! Lots of laughing and satisfied smiles as the gyrating moves become more enhanced. Everyone, for this moment, is happy in what is going on in their life. Somehow it seems to be the most powerful thing that could happen on this African day, and as the day is now over, I can tell you, that, for me, it was. Body Recall …good for the world.

David Stone

Nov. 25, 2011

Friend brings Sunshine

Emmanuel Ontoyen is my friend. I grew to appreciate him during our 2005-2006 stint. He is always forthright and honest and sincerely kind. He never asks for favors but you feel like giving them. He is a watchman for the high school but does lots of driving. He is paid little. The pay does not diminish his desire to do well.

This visit Emmanuel has been sick. He has painful hemmoriods that are persistant. There is no smile just a look of concern as he is used to being strong and healthy. Then his younger sister died. Along with the sadness was the responsibility of the senior brother to manage the cost of buriel and funeral. Emmanuel , a man of few dollars bore the responsibiity while being in physical and now emotional pain. Then a nephew came to him the senior brother in need of tuition for high school. While coping with this, Emmauel gets Malaria. No money. Sick with fever, grieving, off to gather loans or gifted money from friends. Finally, his brother is involved in a serious motorbike accident. His jar is broken on each side. One wonders if this is a test put upon the family.

He is now on the other side of the most of his problems. The sister is buried, the nephew is in school. Malaria is over and Emm’s handshake is firm and strong. He will travel to be with his brother on Thursday. He will take part in a war dance on Friday. Emmanuel is well-known in the community to be the most dramatic interpreter of the dance. Emmanuel is smiling again and we are all smiling with him. He loves his family – three daughters and his wife Faustina. He loves his friends and village. He loves his Catholic church. Because of him, we love life just a litle more too.

Banking in Bolga

Being quite earnest to arrive early to do banking, I leapt on the moto (a 125 cc motorbike – roads are full of them!) for the 30 minute ride to Bolgatanga. I find the ride ying-yangish – I like the challenge of slaloming the many potholes yet I do not relish the thought, that, should I fall, this not-youngish body would find much pain and slow recovery.

Making it to “Bolga’ in fine fashion, I scurry off to enter the bank, only to see little floor space for standing. I’m talkin’ 250 plus customers waiting. I have bank drafts to do for two students in our scholarship/loan project. Were I to accept the challenge of waiting in line, It would be an all-day experience with no assurance you would reach the teller’s window before closing. Not an option as I must teach at 12:30.

I will never complain about banking service in the states. Any inconveniece there pales to the extraordinary marathon taking place here. Lots of paperwork, little use of the computer, and slow deliberate tellers. The banks name is The Ghana Commercial Bank, which is the ‘poor mans’ bank here. They offer the lowest interest rate so it is popular, but only because of that. Nary a smile from any employees. More noticable is how patient the waitiing customers are. I am not sure even in my best moments that I would be capable of such waiting without a few exasperated sighs or verbal laments. I highly admire the way Ghanaians handle waiting. I am convinced that I will ever learn this style of resolve as I have not improved yet having been here accumulatively 14 months. I guess, instead, I will keep trying to improve my ability to speak Nab’t. “Eah tooma ah yealah?” – “How is your waiting?”.

For various reasons, most Ghanaians do not make it to high school. To begin with there is a lack of high schools and admittance is determined by test scores. Following JSS (Junior High), students take exams and are allocated to high schools based on their results. Only 38% attain scores high enough to qualify for high school. Something that tugs at my heartstrings daily is the shadow of yearning on the faces of young men and women left behind, who now have lost the opportunity for significant further education and the chance for income beyond that of a farmer or laborer. Another reason students stay behind is money. High schools are not free. Students must pay tuition for high school in Ghana, with the first year’s tuition of $300 being the equivalent of a farmer’s annual income. At times, the extended family members can gather enough to pay tuition for qualifying youth. At times students must delay for a year or more before money can be gathered, at times they never get to attend high school in spite of good exam scores.

Perhaps that helps to explain the enthusiasm and vitality that exudes from the girls dormitory at the brand new Kongo Senior High School on a Saturday. To begin with, it is early in the school year and, consequently, an awareness persists among the girls that they are extremely fortunate just to be there. As we arrive, it becomes obvious that Saturday is a day for laundry, cooking, bathing, and cleaning. There is a bustle of outdoor communal activity with some hand washing and ironing school uniforms (using irons with hot coals), other girls carry water from a borehole, some girls cook on little hibachis, and all of it is unsupervised. There is a sense self-sufficiency and purpose, accompanied by much laughing and talking.

The dorm rooms themselves are something a westerner must see to believe. The two hundred girls live with 50 girls to a room, sleeping on small bunk beds (smaller than a twin bed) packed closely together. At the foot of each bed is a small box or suitcase for personal items. In an unaccustomed luxury for most Ghanaians, each dorm room has ceiling fans (all of which were turned on) and large windows. While the rooms were reasonably pleasant, these girls will never have opportunity for peace, quiet, and solitude. And there were no desks. I neglected to ask where school books are kept. And a word about something we all take for granted, the flushing toilet. There are currently no latrines or toilets at the school. The technical term is ‘open defecation’; not a new experience for these girls, but of some health concern to me considering the high density of students, the possibility of flies spreading disease from the exposed feces, and the absence of running water for washing hands.

Social expectations in Ghanaian schools are comparatively restrictive in regards to personal freedoms. Students must contact the headmaster for a weekend pass, and are only allowed a few of these per year; though everyone does go home for major holidays. And, are you wondering about boyfriends? Kongo Senior High is a coed school and the boys dorms are strategically placed at least a quarter mile away. Boys are not allowed to go any where near the girls dorms, and vice versa. A typical punishment for meeting a boy outside of class is to be suspended from classes for one week, leaving the student to fall behind in classes and sit alone in the dorms.