Tuesday, February 27, 2007
what next? email from Jenell 2/22/07
If I didn't live in rural West Africa and the only internet cafe in the Upper West region hadn't been closed the last 2 months, I would feel really bad for leaving everybody out of the loop for so long. Well....actually, I do feel guilty (I am part Minnesota Lutheran after all). Last month, I traveled a full day over to the next region to use internet. I took care of peace corps stuff then sat down and wrote a long 45 minute email only to sit and wait another 10 minutes for it not to send and be deleted.... oh, the developing world.
Ok, enough excuses. How do I sum up all the ridiculousness and stories since November?!?
'merica was a strange and magical place filled with private cars, washing machines, free refills and choices.... so many options for everything! I could barely buy a pack of gum in under 15 minutes because I was overwhelmed by whether I wanted fruity, minty, bubbles, whitening, etc. then once I decided that mint was what I really "needed" I was stuck at another boggling crossroads of cool ice, arctic breeze, winter fresh, or glacier freeze. what's the difference anyway? all that and for the same money and time spent I could have bought and eaten lunch for me and a friend in Ghana. Despite all the oddities of american culture that were suddenly very apparent, it was really good to go home and see so many of the people I've missed so much in the last year and a half, but even all the big hugs, bowls of cereal and sushi were not enough to keep me there (yet). My projects are going really well and I was really excited to get back and keep things rolling. I feel like my time here is growing short and I have so much left to do... most days :D. Overall, I am very happy with living in Jirapa and being a Peace Corps volunteer, but saying "overall" glosses over a lot of the rollar coaster ride that is peace corps. Meaning my life (like so many other volunteers) seems to be in a constant back and forth between intense highs and lows... with a few indefinable and truly ridiculous situations thrown in the mix....
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to See a Hippo
A few times each year all the volunteers from each region get together for a meeting to talk about what's happening and to touch base on any issues and up coming events in the region. In January all 3 of the northern regions decided to meet at the same time at the Hippo Sanctuary in the Upper West region, just outside Wa.
There were 6 of us volunteers leaving the station at the same time. We piled into the trotro, which, like all tro's should, was parked in direct sunlight, and waited for it to fill. Only 4 Ghanaians had joined the tro when the driver came, started the lorry and began to pull out of the station. "Sweet!" I said to the volunteer next to me, "Maybe we're picking some people up on the way." We sped down the road dodging potholes, goats, and pedestrians... we sped right past our turn. When questioned, the driver said he wanted to pick up his junior brother at the hospital. "Oh, no problem," we said. We drove right past all the recently released patients at the gate onto hospital grounds. "My brother is not fine," the driver responded to questioning glances. "Oh, sorry, sorry," we chimed in, then returned to our conversations. The driver stopped the tro, got out then opened the back to make room for his junior brother. "He has gone with God," the driver casually announced. our conversations continued on for a second then stopped suddenly when the words sunk in. "WHAT?!? Did he just say what I thought he said?" We stared at each other in disbelief as we realized that we were now parked in front of the hospital morgue. We sat there in front of that morgue waiting, as bodies were being rolled in and out, trying to prepare ourselves for a tro ride into the bush sitting next to a dead body. Was it funny? sad? gross? or just ridiculous? What do you think about while you are parked in front of a morgue for hours waiting for a body to be loaded into the sit next to you. Meanwhile the driver was trying to track down the doctor who had forgotten to declare the junior brother dead before he left for the weekend. We waited 3 hours until we gave up and walked back to the tro station. At which point I was almost disappointed to be robbed of this truly ridiculous experience we had been waiting for.
And now I fast foward to last week...
Last week was intense. An intense peace corps rollar coaster ride. A lot of it was the usual little stuff, but it all seemed to pile up last week. I want to say that it was stressful, but it's such a completely different stress from American stress. I get 8 to 10 hours of sleep every night, I take my sweet time eating breakfast and reading before "work" everyday, and often a portion of my "work" is hanging out under a mango tree talking to people. So I feel a little funny telling a bunch of people living in america about how incredibly exhausting it is sometimes. I think it's things like the little comments that let me know that men do not respect me because I'm a woman, that make something simple like sitting under a tree and talking exhausting. At times I feel like I'm fighting an entire culture on this issue, but other times I feel completely defeated because I know that it's not worth it to fight every comment all the time if I want to be integrated and productive.
Here the hierarchy is firmly in place without much room for change. The man is always and always will be the head of the house. He makes the decisions. He is the only one who is supposed to say when he did something wrong. A man can beat his wife, but if a woman beats a man, he can divorce her and take everything including the children. At this moment I'm worked up about it, but compared to other countries and compared to how it used to be women in Ghana are making progress and there are many very strong women in this country. But in my eyes it's still unacceptable. Ever since I knew there was a difference between boys and girls, it was common knowledge to me that they were equal: that girls could do anything boys could just as well, if not better. It was probably this attitude which made me the target of lunchtime pranks by the boys early in high school, but those days are long in the past. Right? Often the men I encounter while walking down the street remind me of groups of 15 year old boys hanging out with no moms around and with no work to do. They are left just hanging out and looking for ways to entertain themselves.... just looking for trouble. (of course, this does not represent all men in Ghana or in Jirapa... many are busy working or are even helping out in the house... although not common)
At certain times of the day, dusk for example, all the women are busy in the house, so if I walk down the street I usually only pass men who are just sitting around with their buddies waiting for their dinner to be done at home. Unfortunately, I am often the target of their attention. I have learned clever ways of fielding the usual comments of "I love you," "hey, my wife," "take me as your boyfriend, if your husband is not here," "I want you," "I will come visit you tonight," "you are looking fresh," and then all it takes is for someone to say, "you are too beautiful," and it will piss me off so badly. If I'm not in the mood to be clever or funny, every other guy I pass is likely to get a lecture on respect... talk about exhausting. I think the most frustrating thing is how accepted it is. Older men talk to school girls like this all the time. Most girls deal with it when they are younger, so they just laugh at me when I get upset about the way men act. But then there are times where I get attention beyond what most get because I stick out so much... like the guy at market last week who told me I needed a black man and tried to show me his "more horsepower." If this happened to a Ghanaian wife the husband would go and beat him. I know that school girls sometimes encounter similar behavior but rarely stick up for themselves. The social hierarchy is a strong system in which older men are much much higher than a school girl even despite their actions, and therefore girls don't feel like they can say "no." The good news is that despite my frustrations, I have hope. The volleyball team (all single men 15 to 30) respect me so much more than when I first came a year ago. They wouldn't dare harass me and are now becoming aware of sexist remarks they make.
Update on Linda and People Living With HIV/AIDS (PLWHA) group
There is only one member of the PLWHA group who is literate. That is Linda, and she is leaving to continue her school and do something for herself. I am proud of her, but at the same time the group feels helpless. At the meeting the other day we all weighed in to clap for those who are maintaining their weight. I got a huge clap at 70kg (that's 154lb = my high school weight) because I weighed DOUBLE most the group. Linda is "healthy" at 50kg. They need drugs. the drugs are in our region now for about $10 a month for drugs, transport and travel food. They are struggling to raise the money doing the soap making I helped teach them because they are being taken advantage of by others who exploit them and are too weak to work hard. I am hopeful this will be somehow resolved before I go.
I'm afraid if I write anymore, no one will read it because this is so long!! I will save some of my fun stories... I have more than just frustrations... for next time.
peace,
jenell
Ok, enough excuses. How do I sum up all the ridiculousness and stories since November?!?
'merica was a strange and magical place filled with private cars, washing machines, free refills and choices.... so many options for everything! I could barely buy a pack of gum in under 15 minutes because I was overwhelmed by whether I wanted fruity, minty, bubbles, whitening, etc. then once I decided that mint was what I really "needed" I was stuck at another boggling crossroads of cool ice, arctic breeze, winter fresh, or glacier freeze. what's the difference anyway? all that and for the same money and time spent I could have bought and eaten lunch for me and a friend in Ghana. Despite all the oddities of american culture that were suddenly very apparent, it was really good to go home and see so many of the people I've missed so much in the last year and a half, but even all the big hugs, bowls of cereal and sushi were not enough to keep me there (yet). My projects are going really well and I was really excited to get back and keep things rolling. I feel like my time here is growing short and I have so much left to do... most days :D. Overall, I am very happy with living in Jirapa and being a Peace Corps volunteer, but saying "overall" glosses over a lot of the rollar coaster ride that is peace corps. Meaning my life (like so many other volunteers) seems to be in a constant back and forth between intense highs and lows... with a few indefinable and truly ridiculous situations thrown in the mix....
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to See a Hippo
A few times each year all the volunteers from each region get together for a meeting to talk about what's happening and to touch base on any issues and up coming events in the region. In January all 3 of the northern regions decided to meet at the same time at the Hippo Sanctuary in the Upper West region, just outside Wa.
There were 6 of us volunteers leaving the station at the same time. We piled into the trotro, which, like all tro's should, was parked in direct sunlight, and waited for it to fill. Only 4 Ghanaians had joined the tro when the driver came, started the lorry and began to pull out of the station. "Sweet!" I said to the volunteer next to me, "Maybe we're picking some people up on the way." We sped down the road dodging potholes, goats, and pedestrians... we sped right past our turn. When questioned, the driver said he wanted to pick up his junior brother at the hospital. "Oh, no problem," we said. We drove right past all the recently released patients at the gate onto hospital grounds. "My brother is not fine," the driver responded to questioning glances. "Oh, sorry, sorry," we chimed in, then returned to our conversations. The driver stopped the tro, got out then opened the back to make room for his junior brother. "He has gone with God," the driver casually announced. our conversations continued on for a second then stopped suddenly when the words sunk in. "WHAT?!? Did he just say what I thought he said?" We stared at each other in disbelief as we realized that we were now parked in front of the hospital morgue. We sat there in front of that morgue waiting, as bodies were being rolled in and out, trying to prepare ourselves for a tro ride into the bush sitting next to a dead body. Was it funny? sad? gross? or just ridiculous? What do you think about while you are parked in front of a morgue for hours waiting for a body to be loaded into the sit next to you. Meanwhile the driver was trying to track down the doctor who had forgotten to declare the junior brother dead before he left for the weekend. We waited 3 hours until we gave up and walked back to the tro station. At which point I was almost disappointed to be robbed of this truly ridiculous experience we had been waiting for.
And now I fast foward to last week...
Last week was intense. An intense peace corps rollar coaster ride. A lot of it was the usual little stuff, but it all seemed to pile up last week. I want to say that it was stressful, but it's such a completely different stress from American stress. I get 8 to 10 hours of sleep every night, I take my sweet time eating breakfast and reading before "work" everyday, and often a portion of my "work" is hanging out under a mango tree talking to people. So I feel a little funny telling a bunch of people living in america about how incredibly exhausting it is sometimes. I think it's things like the little comments that let me know that men do not respect me because I'm a woman, that make something simple like sitting under a tree and talking exhausting. At times I feel like I'm fighting an entire culture on this issue, but other times I feel completely defeated because I know that it's not worth it to fight every comment all the time if I want to be integrated and productive.
Here the hierarchy is firmly in place without much room for change. The man is always and always will be the head of the house. He makes the decisions. He is the only one who is supposed to say when he did something wrong. A man can beat his wife, but if a woman beats a man, he can divorce her and take everything including the children. At this moment I'm worked up about it, but compared to other countries and compared to how it used to be women in Ghana are making progress and there are many very strong women in this country. But in my eyes it's still unacceptable. Ever since I knew there was a difference between boys and girls, it was common knowledge to me that they were equal: that girls could do anything boys could just as well, if not better. It was probably this attitude which made me the target of lunchtime pranks by the boys early in high school, but those days are long in the past. Right? Often the men I encounter while walking down the street remind me of groups of 15 year old boys hanging out with no moms around and with no work to do. They are left just hanging out and looking for ways to entertain themselves.... just looking for trouble. (of course, this does not represent all men in Ghana or in Jirapa... many are busy working or are even helping out in the house... although not common)
At certain times of the day, dusk for example, all the women are busy in the house, so if I walk down the street I usually only pass men who are just sitting around with their buddies waiting for their dinner to be done at home. Unfortunately, I am often the target of their attention. I have learned clever ways of fielding the usual comments of "I love you," "hey, my wife," "take me as your boyfriend, if your husband is not here," "I want you," "I will come visit you tonight," "you are looking fresh," and then all it takes is for someone to say, "you are too beautiful," and it will piss me off so badly. If I'm not in the mood to be clever or funny, every other guy I pass is likely to get a lecture on respect... talk about exhausting. I think the most frustrating thing is how accepted it is. Older men talk to school girls like this all the time. Most girls deal with it when they are younger, so they just laugh at me when I get upset about the way men act. But then there are times where I get attention beyond what most get because I stick out so much... like the guy at market last week who told me I needed a black man and tried to show me his "more horsepower." If this happened to a Ghanaian wife the husband would go and beat him. I know that school girls sometimes encounter similar behavior but rarely stick up for themselves. The social hierarchy is a strong system in which older men are much much higher than a school girl even despite their actions, and therefore girls don't feel like they can say "no." The good news is that despite my frustrations, I have hope. The volleyball team (all single men 15 to 30) respect me so much more than when I first came a year ago. They wouldn't dare harass me and are now becoming aware of sexist remarks they make.
Update on Linda and People Living With HIV/AIDS (PLWHA) group
There is only one member of the PLWHA group who is literate. That is Linda, and she is leaving to continue her school and do something for herself. I am proud of her, but at the same time the group feels helpless. At the meeting the other day we all weighed in to clap for those who are maintaining their weight. I got a huge clap at 70kg (that's 154lb = my high school weight) because I weighed DOUBLE most the group. Linda is "healthy" at 50kg. They need drugs. the drugs are in our region now for about $10 a month for drugs, transport and travel food. They are struggling to raise the money doing the soap making I helped teach them because they are being taken advantage of by others who exploit them and are too weak to work hard. I am hopeful this will be somehow resolved before I go.
I'm afraid if I write anymore, no one will read it because this is so long!! I will save some of my fun stories... I have more than just frustrations... for next time.
peace,
jenell
