Saturday, May 20, 2006
Giants in Africa- Jenell email May 9, 2006
I must first apologize for not writing in awhile. Ghana is now very much my home, so I'm trying to remind myself that everyday occurrences for me are potential forwards and dinner conversation for some of you... Thus I will continue to tell my stories and attempt to convey these experiences. (NOTE: SEE PREVIOUS POSTING)
One reason for the time lapse is because my dad and brother were here for two weeks then I had to report to the beach for peace corps in-service training (emphasis on "had to"... life at the beach is so rough:D).
I could write on and on about my father's surprise close encounter with a huge baboon in our hotel room (which caused him to throw up his arms and scream like a 10yo girl) OR the scene that was caused by my dad when he broke stereotypes by purchasing a farming tool and carried it on his shoulder through the market. I struggle in how best to sum up and recapture my time with them. However, it is the the little things that are so hard to convey in mass emails that I wish I could share with all of you... the looks of understanding and humor I exchanged with my brother during interesting cultural exchanges AND the interaction they had with local people and friends (like the terrified small girl selling popcorn and a 6'7" white man jumping with joy at the sight of his favorite food in such a strange land). Instead I will invite my dad to post some of his pictures and stories on my blog …..
March 29th 2006
Solar Eclipse
"Get Excited, Don't Get Blind," the fliers read all over Accra, the capital city. Although the total solar eclipse was only in the south of Ghana, the news that the sun would disappear in the middle of the day and that there was a possibility that you could go blind was widely talked about even in the upper west. [without the special glasses another volunteer found for me in Accra, I wouldn't have known that is was anything other than a very cloudy day.] The day of the eclipse, I was traveling with the district assembly to a very small village to be the token white person at the opening of a rural health post. The ceremonies were to open at 9am; we showed up at 10am (typical), but none of the villagers were there yet. We sat under the dawadawa tree and waited. After an hour the Jile (the local xylophone made from wood, gourds, and twine) arrived atop the head of an older man riding a village standard-- a Phoenix bicycle. The man immediately got to work readjusting the hollowed, dried gourds beneath each board of the Jile (nothing close to fine tuning the marimba with a pitch pipe at my high school band concerts). Finally the villagers started trickling in... apparently everyone in Sunte had been warned that there would be an eclipse in the morning and it should not be looked at. They were not, however, informed that it was NOT the end of the world. The entire morning, the whole of Sunte was shut inside their mud huts waiting for the dangers of Armageddon to pass. Not having watches, no one knew when it was safe to come out.
The dancing and drumming started at noon.
WHAT SHE COULDN'T TELL ME
(warning: touchy subjects to follow. please pre-read and self edit if reading this to a child)
As if I didn't already have enough incentives to learn Dagaare, a woman who doesn't speak any English is being paid small by the District Assembly to sweep the dirt around my house. I first assumed my neighbors just thought I was really dirty, but now I understand.....
The story of how she came to sweep the dirt in my yard.
One year ago, she had SIX children (a burden all in itself), then her husband died. She had no money, no job and 7 mouths to feed. Normally Ghanaian women are "given" to her husband's brother in the case of an untimely death. Her husband, however, had no brother. Not knowing what to do, she went to the only source of income she'd ever known, men. She got pregnant. Devastated, she exhausted every possibility to abort the baby, but to no avail. She gave birth. Struck by grief, poverty, and desperation, she took her newborn child and dropped it down a public latrine. Miraculously, the child was found and brought to the hospital where his airway was cleared. The community didn't know whose child it was and asked for the mother to come forward. After a few long talks with a good friend of mine, the woman came forward. They wanted to send her to jail, but there was no one to take care of her now 7 children. They decided to give back the child under the conditions that she find a source of income. This, however, is the goal of the majority of the population.
This woman is only one case, but this brings me to my latest focus: starting a bakery in Jirapa as an income generation project. Elizabeth, an amazing woman and my best friend in Jirapa, has expressed interest in starting a bakery co-op for women, PLWHA (people living with HIV/AIDS), and OVC (orphans and vulnerable children of PLWHA). keep in mind that I am just getting started. I am really excited, mostly that Elizabeth is so excited, and that I might be able to help her out in getting started.
*if any of you are starting to think nice thoughts about me because I just wrote an email that makes me sound like a do-good-er. I would also like to point out my ulterior motive of fresh baked brown bread (instead of stale sugar bread) by the end of my service.
peace,
jenell
One reason for the time lapse is because my dad and brother were here for two weeks then I had to report to the beach for peace corps in-service training (emphasis on "had to"... life at the beach is so rough:D).
I could write on and on about my father's surprise close encounter with a huge baboon in our hotel room (which caused him to throw up his arms and scream like a 10yo girl) OR the scene that was caused by my dad when he broke stereotypes by purchasing a farming tool and carried it on his shoulder through the market. I struggle in how best to sum up and recapture my time with them. However, it is the the little things that are so hard to convey in mass emails that I wish I could share with all of you... the looks of understanding and humor I exchanged with my brother during interesting cultural exchanges AND the interaction they had with local people and friends (like the terrified small girl selling popcorn and a 6'7" white man jumping with joy at the sight of his favorite food in such a strange land). Instead I will invite my dad to post some of his pictures and stories on my blog …..
March 29th 2006
Solar Eclipse
"Get Excited, Don't Get Blind," the fliers read all over Accra, the capital city. Although the total solar eclipse was only in the south of Ghana, the news that the sun would disappear in the middle of the day and that there was a possibility that you could go blind was widely talked about even in the upper west. [without the special glasses another volunteer found for me in Accra, I wouldn't have known that is was anything other than a very cloudy day.] The day of the eclipse, I was traveling with the district assembly to a very small village to be the token white person at the opening of a rural health post. The ceremonies were to open at 9am; we showed up at 10am (typical), but none of the villagers were there yet. We sat under the dawadawa tree and waited. After an hour the Jile (the local xylophone made from wood, gourds, and twine) arrived atop the head of an older man riding a village standard-- a Phoenix bicycle. The man immediately got to work readjusting the hollowed, dried gourds beneath each board of the Jile (nothing close to fine tuning the marimba with a pitch pipe at my high school band concerts). Finally the villagers started trickling in... apparently everyone in Sunte had been warned that there would be an eclipse in the morning and it should not be looked at. They were not, however, informed that it was NOT the end of the world. The entire morning, the whole of Sunte was shut inside their mud huts waiting for the dangers of Armageddon to pass. Not having watches, no one knew when it was safe to come out.
The dancing and drumming started at noon.
WHAT SHE COULDN'T TELL ME
(warning: touchy subjects to follow. please pre-read and self edit if reading this to a child)
As if I didn't already have enough incentives to learn Dagaare, a woman who doesn't speak any English is being paid small by the District Assembly to sweep the dirt around my house. I first assumed my neighbors just thought I was really dirty, but now I understand.....
The story of how she came to sweep the dirt in my yard.
One year ago, she had SIX children (a burden all in itself), then her husband died. She had no money, no job and 7 mouths to feed. Normally Ghanaian women are "given" to her husband's brother in the case of an untimely death. Her husband, however, had no brother. Not knowing what to do, she went to the only source of income she'd ever known, men. She got pregnant. Devastated, she exhausted every possibility to abort the baby, but to no avail. She gave birth. Struck by grief, poverty, and desperation, she took her newborn child and dropped it down a public latrine. Miraculously, the child was found and brought to the hospital where his airway was cleared. The community didn't know whose child it was and asked for the mother to come forward. After a few long talks with a good friend of mine, the woman came forward. They wanted to send her to jail, but there was no one to take care of her now 7 children. They decided to give back the child under the conditions that she find a source of income. This, however, is the goal of the majority of the population.
This woman is only one case, but this brings me to my latest focus: starting a bakery in Jirapa as an income generation project. Elizabeth, an amazing woman and my best friend in Jirapa, has expressed interest in starting a bakery co-op for women, PLWHA (people living with HIV/AIDS), and OVC (orphans and vulnerable children of PLWHA). keep in mind that I am just getting started. I am really excited, mostly that Elizabeth is so excited, and that I might be able to help her out in getting started.
*if any of you are starting to think nice thoughts about me because I just wrote an email that makes me sound like a do-good-er. I would also like to point out my ulterior motive of fresh baked brown bread (instead of stale sugar bread) by the end of my service.
peace,
jenell
Pics from Coop and Neacail... stories still to come..
Cooper and Neacail were in Ghana visiting Jenell from mid-April to the beginning of May. Here are a few photos of their travels. There are also many stories to tell and we will post some of those soon, but for now here are some photos... (captions are below the photo)
Catching a ride on a sand truck (Neacail in corner- he's the white guy :-)
One of Lisa's favorites... check out this precious little girl who has her doll wrapped onto her back!
Jenell's friend Jessica holding a baby.
BlueWindow and four faces...
And another of Lisa's favorites... Necail and Jenell at the beach in Ghana.
Catching a ride on a sand truck (Neacail in corner- he's the white guy :-)
One of Lisa's favorites... check out this precious little girl who has her doll wrapped onto her back!
Jenell's friend Jessica holding a baby.
BlueWindow and four faces...
And another of Lisa's favorites... Necail and Jenell at the beach in Ghana.
