In which I write a missings alphabet...

A selection of the things I miss…

A	Apples: we can buy Golden Delicious but I so miss a little Cox or a Pink Lady! Architecture: I wouldn’t describe myself as cultured but it would be nice to see some beautiful buildings.  Advance booking: and some form of timetabling so you don’t have to get up at 3am to wait for a bus that may, or may not, leave at 6am.
B	Baking: I have no oven and I miss both making and eating cakes etc! Being busy: I have hours at the office where I have nothing to do.  I’ve run out of “odd jobs” and forward planning.  Still, I have completed another phonics workshop with favourable reports J.  I’m so scared I’ll be a dead leg by the time I get back. L Brown bread:  food may become a common theme!
C	CATHERINE! Comfy chairs: (of which there are NONE in the whole of Ghana).  We eat off plastic garden furniture   and these are what most places have, including schools and bars.  The office has some rickety wooden chairs with torn padded seats which, frankly, make your bum sweat! Cheese and chocolate: we can get “laughing cow” and when we travelled we ate pizza.  I’m told you can buy a very expensive cheddar in Bolgatanga (but I’d have to brave the tro-tro for that).  You can also buy a small range of chocolate in Bolga but we haven’t…yet!     Braving the tro-tro! Coffee: real coffee! Cutlery: that doesn’t bend as soon as you look at it and that matches. Crockery: that isn’t melamine.
D	Debenhams: where we spend many a happy coffee break! Dust free environment: I’ll never complain about UK dust again…I will definitely get my lungs tested when I get back - they probably contain half of the Sahara by now! DVDs:  watching many, many episodes of Star Trek has its limits! Doors that fit:  we have many doors…not one of them fits.  I even oiled one of them with butter (well, not real butter, you can’t get that).  It worked too – that door doesn’t squeak any more!   We tried to block up the holes to keep out the mosquitos!   Dishwasher: well, I don’t miss this as much as you might think (given that I have nothing better to do!) Driving: in my car (NOT the bike!); driving on the left; following the highway code!; not being so aggressive on the road (perhaps I forget what UK roads are like but we are not constantly blowing our horns to frighten others out of the way!)
E	Equipment: reliable and available resources.  Teaching under a tree with not even a chair is a bit wearing.   The office photocopier is an ancient machine held in the Director’s room and operated by the office clerk; you can’t just use it – well, the paper is restricted for a start.  You even have to ask to use the stapler in the office (and there are often no pins (staples))! Electricity: the fairly frequent power cuts have not so far been a serious problem ( I think I will need to revise that when the 40 ° temperatures arrive and the fan is not working), it’s more the fact that we are gradually running out of sockets that work.  I nearly blew up the house this morning when the iron plug started smoking at the wall.  Most of the sockets crackle when in use…perhaps that’s why my hair is so curly!
F	Friends and family: normal conversations (well normal for us!) and genuine affection!  Company that’s on the same wave length and gets Paul’s jokes! Fields: the typical English green field complete with hedge or dry stone wall.  The rolling countryside.  The hills and mountains and general undulation.  Ah!  There are hills in the distance which create the border between Ghana and Burkino Faso.    The local hills just aren't the same!    We even climbed one or two of them quite recently, getting up at 5.30am to avoid the heat of the day.     Freezer: none of this going to the crowded, noisy market every 3 days in the boiling heat!
G	Garden: I miss pottering and pruning! Glass: decent glass to keep out the dust (though I accept that you need the open spaces to let the breeze in and stop you from boiling).  Also to shut out the noise…especially at 4 am when the local churches compete at full volume!  Windows and breezes in our living room!
H	Hot water: it’s not too bad having to boil water in pans…and cold showers are ok in this climate, but just occasionally hot water on tap would be a treat. Hairdryer:  my hair has not been cut since September and is totally wild!
I	Internet: it is SO much better than it was when we first arrived but still lacks speed and reliability (it has crashed as I type).
J	JUDITH! Jogging: (or “trotting” as the locals call it) at the moment we are doing a little circuit at 5.45 am! 2 or 3 days a week.  However, it has been, and will again become, too hot, even at this hour; also, when it rainy season comes again, the nasty mosquitos will be out at this hour and we’d be trotting in the dark through deep puddles.
K	Karate: we are practicing in our lounge at the weekends for about an hour, again in the slightly cooler early morning (though not quite so early…it is the weekend even if it is hot!) but I’m sure we are getting into bad habits!
L	Language: yes they speak English here but it’s definitely Ghana English.  You hear more of the local languages really; although there are about 80 Ghanaian languages, most people can understand each other. Luxury: any sort would do!
M	MARGARET! Meat, milk and mugs: I have not been tempted to buy my meat live to butcher at home, nor yet to frequent the local butcher who has an open stall on the market complete with flies (although I have been pleasantly surprised at how relatively insect free it is here…I may revise this in the wet season when the mosquitos abound).  The choice of milk is dried, soya or evaporated – we use all 3.  We have 2 mugs, of a vulgar sort.  We could buy more…but they would be the same vulgar sort! Medical care: so far we have only been witnesses to this, thankfully not having needed it ourselves.  However, there are very few doctors in the Upper East (nobody wants to come here) so most treatment is given by health technicians (Paul equates them with first aiders!) and seems to be very inconsistent and is accompanied by lots of injections.  Yuk! Music: Paul has not listened to anything on his ipod since we arrived and I have only occasionally used my music.  Somehow it feels quite incongruous here.  There is a lot of music in the environment: rap and reggae in the streets – played through enormous, distorting speakers at full volume; church – usually in Kusaal with wannabe young drummers; if you’re lucky you can sometimes pick up some real African rhythms and local beats which are quite nice to listen to for a short while. Make-up: haven’t worn any of that since our arrival.  I’d look really good with it streaking down my sweaty face!
N	News: I’m not one for news, it generally goes in one ear and out the other, but we’ve heard barely any since our arrival.  I suppose that means I don’t need to make excuses for forgetting it all!  I really enjoyed my mini headlines on Twitter…
O	Oven: Our cooking arrangements do not include an oven.
P	Planning and organization: none of that to be found here!  Most jobs are completed as a last minute rush because there is no system of forward planning.  The Ghana Education Service bought diaries for the teaching staff this year.  I haven’t yet seen any of them in use.  And they are non-existent in the office! Privacy: none of that either!  Children stare at us through the non-windows!  People call unexpectedly and you have to drop everything to “greet” them (which can take a while!).    You can see where the children line up to stare at us!   Pavements: I am so fed up of sandy toes!  I’m also fed up of dodging bikes and motor bikes coming from all directions on the pavement!  Away from the one main road, of course, there is no pavement, just dirt! Pointless!: relaxing between jobs with a cuppa in front of the TV.
Q	Quality: there is none…in anything!  Well, actually I need to revise that.  Yesterday I spotted the first articles exhibiting any degree of quality craftsmanship.  They were lavishly polished and ornate.  They looked as if they were made with love and care.  What were they? Coffins. Quiet:  there is none.  Ghanaians are incredibly loud!
R	Rain: I appreciate that the UK is fed up of this – perhaps you could send some here! Rug: family joke…how is my rug? Recipes: I didn’t usually follow them anyway but they were a comfort blanket.  We are producing reasonable results with our guess and hope technique: jam, pancakes, potato cakes, fudge.
S	Structure: routine, organization – the things I’m good at! Singing: there is often too much environmental noise to have an effective sing…and also if I sing out then all the neighbours can hear. L And, like I said, we don’t often put on our own music.  However, I did quite a bit of singing during my phonics INSET programmes!  I’m looking forward to a return to choir and a bop around the kitchen. Supermarkets: I never thought I would say that I missed a supermarket…all that beautifully packaged and uniform food that hasn’t been sitting in the blazing sun all day…pushing round that trolley on a smooth, clean floor with the air-conditioning keeping you cool…no jostling between the aisles.  And even the prospect of a cappuccino at the end.  Bliss!   Jostling at the market.
T	Teaching:  all that planning and busyness!  Well, perhaps not that aspect of the job!  I miss the interaction with the lovely All Saint’s team and with my class.  I miss the purposeful atmosphere and knowing where and how I fit in.  Most of the time I have no idea what’s going on here! Toilets: we have a flushing toilet in our house.    Here it is (I won't show you the others)   Several compounds close by will share a toilet built equi-distant from their houses.  I have not investigated these.  At the office, there is an open air block set back from the main building, with a partition (male/female).  There is a floor and a pipe which drains into the field.  A more substantial building further afield contains a few holes over the top of a large pit…but nobody in their right mind would “go” there!  It is quite usual to see both adults and children squatting in the field…after which the local pigs queue up for the delicacy!  So, we are now experts at crossing our legs!
U	Underwear: the idea of the well fitting bra barely exists.  Many ladies don’t bother at all and I can understand why – it’s too hot!  There are stalls in the market that sell them; they are all hanging loose.  Finding one with a label could take all day…and just how you are supposed to try them in the middle of the market beats me.  I think that’s why many don’t fit!  So…here’s hoping my underwear lasts! Understanding: what’s going on, how to find out, where to go for things.  Some kind of written signposting would be so helpful.  Ghanaians can’t say they don’t know, it’s a culture thing, so they make up an answer where required, which means you could be on a wild goose chase!  We’d also like to learn more of the local language but there are no books and no teachers and the locals have no concept of writing down or practicing useful phrases with you!  Very frustrating!
V	Variety: We eat some form of tomato every meal because there are lots of them around all the time.  Otherwise you eat what there is at the market and this depends on the season and which lorries have passed through the town.  Watermelons are at an end; pineapples don’t make it as far as Zebilla; mango season has not yet begun; bananas and oranges are available after a delivery.  It’s the same with the veg.  Onions are in abundance just now.  We tend to eat lots of stews with the vegetables of the day and protein from a tin (meat/fish) or local beans.   Paul has now discovered that a variety of donuts can be purchased for next to nothing and he is trying hard to keep the local cooks in business!
W	Water: we are in the routine of filtering and boiling all our water for consumption and we have a good system for storing it.  Well, I hope it’s good – we haven’t had to test it yet.  Fortunately our polytank of water is filled by a working pump on a regular basis.  Several pumps do not work and have not been fixed for many months.  Many of our neighbours collect water from their nearest bore hole (of which there are many dotted around).  There are problems with our tank in that the stop cock doesn’t work so it has to be turned on and off manually at an underground tap and sometimes we forget with a consequent overflowing and wastage of precious water.  We haven’t yet had a water bill…   The trusty water filter!
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In which I tell Ben's story...

It’s a bit vague…trying to get detailed information from anybody is difficult.  Nevertheless the story is worth telling…

Ben is approximately 13/14 years old; I don’t think anyone knows his age exactly (we came across a case recently where the birth certificate failed to tally with any other official documents e.g. health insurance card…and I don’t think everyone has a birth certificate).

Ben suffers from sickle-cell anaemia and stunted growth.  Until 2012 he also had a very large, disfiguring, abdominal hernia.

From an early age Ben’s development was slow.  His father was convinced that the child was a curse and Ben lived under the constant threat of “not living” (to write that his father wanted to kill him feels extremely brutal though it is nonetheless true).  Ben’s mother feared for his life to the extent that she took the precaution of taking him to live with his grandparents here in Zebilla – a journey of about 10 hours by coach from Kumasi, where they lived in her husband’s family home.

Thereafter, Ben lived, hidden away, with his grandparents.  He did not attend school; he did not really leave this family compound.  Disability and curses are things to be hidden away.

In 2012, the District Special Educational Needs Officer (SPED) from the Ghana Education Service (GES), together with the VSO officer, visited Ben’s village where they happened upon Ben’s grandparents and their secret.  They were extremely shocked when they saw Ben; both his physical and his mental condition were a cause for great concern.  Immediate action was required.  Of course, “immediate” in Ghana can take considerable time!

Arrangements were made and Ben was taken to the hospital in Bolgatanga for assessment and eventually a hernia operation.  This was not an easy task given that neither parents nor grandparents had money to finance this.  There is a National Health Insurance Scheme which covers basics (you have to opt into it and pay a minimal fee which most families now do) but transport costs became a barrier.  In addition, the operation required a medical mesh (see note below) to strengthen the abdominal wall which was not included in the health insurance and cost 150 Ghana cedi.  Determined not to fall at this hurdle, the team at the Education Office pleaded the case at the District Assembly and also arranged a whip round in the Office.  With this support, the operation was completed successfully.

Ben was now in a much better physical condition.  I’m not sure how the stunted growth or sickle cell anaemia were treated but since they are much less visible Ben’s appearance became within the “normal” range.  It was suggested that he might start attending school.  This was an enormous mental challenge for a boy who had spent his life almost as a recluse.  By way of encouragement a bicycle was bought (again through generous donations) and gradually the challenge was faced and overcome.  Ben now attends his local Primary School and is currently in Year 5.

I have never met Ben.  However, his story is widely told and is regarded as a great success story here in Zebilla.  And it is a great success.  My concern is that it seems to be a fairly isolated success.  When will all these children with disabilities be acknowledged and loved?

Medical Mesh

Since our arrival in Ghana we have read about a surgeon who has been very successfully using mosquito nets as the mesh for strengthening the walls around hernias.  This is very cheap and readily available but possibly not yet widely known.  Here in Ghana the “mesh” is the property of the doctor and therefore you buy it from him before the operation. He, of course, will have to buy and keep his own stock of it in readiness.  I’m sure a supply of mosquito nets would be much more easily available.  However, the cynic in me (based on my observations of Ghana), suspects that the doctor might be making a profit from selling the mesh and I wonder whether he would be willing to forfeit this source of additional income?  Let’s hope so!

 

In which I share a new Christmas experience...

Travelling

Well…we very nearly didn’t travel at all given that our 2pm bus didn’t arrive until 3.45pm!  You would think I’d be used to “Ghana time” by now but still I get caught out!  Once on board though, the overnight journey to Accra was easy…which was not adequate preparation for the bombardment of the senses on arrival in the centre of the capital city where all systems are in overload and it’s still before 8am!:

The noise: traffic – worn out engines, honking horns; hawkers vying for attention; workmen making their wares at the street sides; stallholders plying their goods; mobile phones singing to be answered; people shouting and generally communicating at full volume.

The smells: those worn out engines again! fumes and petrol; the rancid open drainage system cooking in the sun; street food stalls.

The sights: the traffic jams with hawkers weaving precariously in and out of the queues; people, rainbow-dressed, jostling everywhere; market stalls, crammed with goods, in every available space; half built houses and offices with heaps of sand and bricks piled ready for you to trip into; broken pathways and litter.

You really need your wits about you at all times to avoid being attacked by the many hazards: traffic, people, building sites, open drains…

Fortunately we were sufficiently awake to survive traversing Accra to reach the required bus station for tro-tros to Kokrobite, 30 miles further west.  The next challenge was working out which of the dozens of tros was going the right way.  There are no signs, bus stops, timetables, labels or indeed any form of helpful communication.  Passers by offer conflicting advice.  So, eventually, you opt for the most likely option (possibly the tro which looks least likely to break down) and hop aboard.  Suffice it to say that we did reach our destination relatively unscathed!

The return journey was even more stressful given that we travelled via a different route and nothing was booked, indeed,  we didn’t know if the buses/connections would be running.  Once again there are no websites to browse and telephone information is non-existent/incomprehensible.  I’m not convinced we got the best deal but it’s impossible to tell.  And we did reach Zebilla with only a few more chewed off finger nails!

Travelling in Ghana is difficult (there’s an understatement for you!) for someone who likes to plan and organize; not an activity to be undertaken lightly!

The Destinations

Kokrobite is a resort of two halves.  Firstly, along the shoreline, there are hotels and large villas.  Of the three hotels we visited, the two more successful ones are both managed by Europeans.  Customers flock there for the food, drink, music and entertainment as well as the accommodation.  All tastes are catered for but the majority of the clientele is white (many volunteers!) or more affluent Africans.  The third hotel (where we stayed) was more modest, more run down and much less vibrant (i.e. dead quiet).

                           

                          Our room at the Dream Hotel, Kokrobite

                   
                     Kokrobite Garden Hotel: a pleasant garden retreat

The second half of the resort is the town itself, in stark contrast to the relative comforts of the hotels.  Here the rickety dwellings jostle for space along the open drains and unmade roads.  Despite the squalor, every morning the matriarchs are out in the street organizing the sweeping and tidying of their bits of space, clearing away yesterday’s rubbish and ready for a new day.  By daylight the town is calm and quiet though not deserted.  Come the evening the same streets are alive with street trading, music and relaxing in the local bars.  This is where we sampled our first tilapia fish, fresh from the net, eaten with yam chips!

    Kokrobite town (or village?)

So, despite the general air of poverty the community spirit thrives and it was a pleasure to flit between these two halves!

Cape Coast

Here in Zebilla there is a mixture of housing ranging from the traditional, thatched round buildings spread around a central, shaded courtyard, to a variety of rectangular huts and houses ranging in structure and quality.  Often the dwellings are surrounded by farmland thus generating a feeling of openness and space.  Not so Cape Coast!

 Views of Cape Coast

 

Cape Coast was at one time the capital of the British Gold Coast Colony and retains many old, though now extremely run down, colonial buildings.  Squashed between these and throughout the city are a selection of slum-type dwellings put together using any materials found to hand and stalls with barely walking room between. The atmosphere is busy and bustling with strong competition to get your custom but very little idea about customer service; in one shop the cashier was most disgruntled when we disturbed her TV viewing with our trade!

The city was a little too overbearing for my taste, much preferring watching the fishermen hauling in their huge nets on a wide open beach, keeping time by chanting traditional African rhythms.

 

                                                             

                                                                           Sharing out the catch at the end of a hard day's fishing.

Dominating this shoreline stands the Castle, serving as a reminder of the barbarity inflicted by the trade in slaves.  We visited the dank, dark dungeons where up to 1500 slaves might be detained in readiness for shipment (in equally barbaric conditions) to the Caribbean, Brazil and USA/Canada.

From Cape Coast we also visited Kakum National Park with its star attraction of a long canopy walkway.  It calls itself a rain forest though in fact it has a dry season (which a true rain forest would not have).  I was a bit disappointed not to be surrounded by trees full of monkeys but then, any self respecting animal would hide deep inside the forest away from all those interfering, noisy tourists!  It was nevertheless enjoyable as was the nature walk we took afterwards.  It’s a pity there weren’t a few tracks you could walk unaccompanied – a future project perhaps!

 

And finally

The trip was interesting if not wholly enjoyable.  We travelled the length of Ghana, passing from the arid dryness of the north, through the savannah and scrub of the central regions to the green, lush, semi-tropical rain forests of the south.  We witnessed the change in living conditions from the round thatches to the cramped semi-slums.  We have seen the traditional fishing methods of the coastal regions.  We have gained a great wealth of impressions and experiences. 

But, wherever I wander…there’s no place like home!!

In which I talk rubbish...

My more mature readers may remember a government campaign many years ago entreating us to take care of our countryside.  Adverts persuaded us to follow the country code; closing gates, keeping dogs on a lead, taking litter home.  “Don’t drop litter, put it in a bin,” became a familiar catchphrase.  Overall, the scheme succeeded in drawing public attention to an ugly problem and, despite the array of fast food wrappers, gum spots and unsightly fly-tipping, the British town and countryside are reasonably litter free.  Not so Ghana!

In some of the larger Ghanaian towns and cities, household rubbish collection is currently, slowly being introduced but here in Zebilla no system exists.  The result is streets festooned with the ugly remains of daily life; fields planted with plastic bags, tired shoes, broken bicycle parts…

 

To be fair, I haven’t seen any larger items scattered around – there are no dead fridges, beds and sofas hurled into the riverbed.  Such items are endlessly restored, repaired, renewed, regenerated and with relative ease.  So perhaps in this sense Zebilla is far more resourceful than the UK.  However, the town would hugely benefit from the introduction of our “bag for life”!

Wherever you shop here, your purchases are placed in a “rubber” (plastic bag), the most common being of thin black plastic.  Despite insisting on using our own shopping bag we have amassed a large store of them.  Water is sold cheaply and freely in a ½ litre plastic sachet.  The automatic means of disposal for both of these is to simply throw them on the ground.  The Ghanaian mindset is that rubbish is simply dropped.

 

Household rubbish is dealt with by public burning either individually or communally.  The tracks and paths throughout the town are bordered by such burning sites.  Once alight, the rubbish is left to itself to burn or to scatter in the wind.  In schools, children are in charge of sweeping up the rubbish in the school grounds (where the teachers have dropped their water sachets and food wrappers!) each morning and lighting the fires.  Yes, young children are left to light the fires unsupervised!  School Health and Safety Officers would have a heart attack. (Don’t come to Ghana, Heather!).

Compostable waste is much easier – all you do is chuck it over the fence for the foraging, roaming, domestic animals.  There was one time when we left a “rubber” of waste by our door and we suspect some passing, foraging, hungry children had their fill of our tasty (!) scraps.

Public areas are, therefore, in the main, rather unsightly.  However, individual places are not always so.  The matriarch living opposite is outside every morning by 6.30am sweeping her “yard” with a backbreaking twig broom.  No leaf or rubber is safe on her patch; no grain of sand is left out of place.  Once completed she sits on her wall to admire her handiwork and survey the littered field beyond.  Job done!

 

An efficient broom but it breaks your back!

 

A further cause for concern is the drainage system which is more problematic in the towns and cities.  Drains are open and run alongside the roads and pavements and if you are not careful you can quite easily fall into one and end up basking in the dirty water next to the pigs!  It’s slightly better here in the back streets of Zebilla where the water simply leaves your bath/sink and travels into the dirt paths; rather an unpleasant smell but no danger of falling in!  So, these drains are smelly, mosquito breeding, germ traps and they criss-cross the streets, along with the rubbish, adjacent to the market stalls and shopping booths.

We have encountered a couple of very creative recyclers; one lady who uses the rubbers and sachets to weave baskets and a farmer who uses the sachets like plant pots for his seedlings.  I look forward to meeting many more of these pioneers – their skills are badly needed.

 

 

From such observations I conclude that Ghana is breeding a large rubbish problem which currently the government seems unable to solve.  It may not be a priority to return the countryside to its uncluttered beauty but the health and safety aspects will need to be seriously addressed as the populations in the towns and cities rise.  Developing a better drainage and rubbish collection system may not be very glamorous but perhaps some of the leading charities might like to consider lending a hand in this direction in order to save a life!