I've been putting this off majorly, seeing how long I've not been in Ghana at this point, but now it's time for me to finally give this blog a proper sendoff.
My experiences working with CRS and OIC allowed me a glimpse of the efforts going into micro-development. Working from the bottom up in terms of empowering people to improve their lives is crucial. You always hear of countries shelling out billions of dollars in aid to developing countries, but you don't really hear what happens after that. Recently, the responsibility of developing rural communities has transferred from governments to local NGOs. I think this is a good strategy, since the locals have the advantage of knowing the customs of the people they're helping.
One of the most important things I learned about development efforts was the concept of helping people help themselves. It wasn't about drastically changing people's way of life, but integrating new methods and skills into their daily routines. So when village women are taught how to process their rice better, an activity in which they already participate, they are able to sell it at a higher price, which improves their standard of living as well as maintaining their way of life.
On the flip side, I'm now curious about the macro aspect of development--the bigger picture, to put it in other words. What policies can be enacted to effect a real, sustainable change in the economy of Ghana, and other developing countries? These are questions I'm excited to continue exploring at school and *gasp!* maybe even grad school?
Going to Ghana by myself was a big step for me. Not only do I feel this sense of freedom and liberation, but now there's this itch to travel and see more of the world. I also hope to make my visits to Ghana more frequent so that it can truly feel like my second home. This trip has made me realize how big my world is. To think that the world, my world, extends beyond the bubble in which I've enclosed myself for so long boggles my mind, yet fills me with an incredible sense of warmth.
Thanks for reading. I hope it was as fun reading as it was to write this. This summer was chock-full of truth and mangoes, the latter, of course, being tastier.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Final Week
My last week in Ghana was spent in Accra. I spent so much time in Tamale, and just northern Ghana in general, that going back down to the south was a pleasant shock. Since most of the population is concentrated in the southern part of the country, it makes sense that it's more developed, with better infrastructure, buildings, and all. When I arrived in Accra, I almost felt like I was back home in America because everything just felt so...modern. Now, I'm not trying to hate on the north. I can't, that's where I'm from. Buuuuuut, let's just say I enjoyed myself in Accra. A lot.
I went to Elmina, a 2-hour drive from Accra (not factoring in the ever-present traffic), to tour Elmina Castle, the oldest European building in sub-Saharan Africa. It was sobering to see the small chambers that held more than a hundred slaves. What struck me the most was visiting the "Room of No Return."
The slaves had to squeeze through this tiny gate to board the slave ship, the last time most of them would ever set foot on African soil. It was bittersweet that we, tourists, could return.
During our tour, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful the area was, what with the palm trees and crystal-clear blue sea. It's so jarring that a place that evokes feelings of pain and sadness could be set against such a beautiful backdrop.
'
For my final week I took it easy: I went to the beach, saw some friends from school, took a tro tro (a public minibus) for the first, and hopefully last, time. I was a bit wary of taking a tro tro because it's the drivers of said vehicles that scare me into believing that I can never drive in Ghana. While it wasn't as bad as I anticipated, let's just say that I prefer taking taxis.
I couldn't help but notice the extensive construction of new roads and new buildings. It's because of this rapid development that Accra seems to change drastically every time I visit.
This is the Africa you don't see. My final thoughts coming soon.
I went to Elmina, a 2-hour drive from Accra (not factoring in the ever-present traffic), to tour Elmina Castle, the oldest European building in sub-Saharan Africa. It was sobering to see the small chambers that held more than a hundred slaves. What struck me the most was visiting the "Room of No Return."
The slaves had to squeeze through this tiny gate to board the slave ship, the last time most of them would ever set foot on African soil. It was bittersweet that we, tourists, could return.During our tour, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful the area was, what with the palm trees and crystal-clear blue sea. It's so jarring that a place that evokes feelings of pain and sadness could be set against such a beautiful backdrop.
'For my final week I took it easy: I went to the beach, saw some friends from school, took a tro tro (a public minibus) for the first, and hopefully last, time. I was a bit wary of taking a tro tro because it's the drivers of said vehicles that scare me into believing that I can never drive in Ghana. While it wasn't as bad as I anticipated, let's just say that I prefer taking taxis.
I couldn't help but notice the extensive construction of new roads and new buildings. It's because of this rapid development that Accra seems to change drastically every time I visit.
This is the Africa you don't see. My final thoughts coming soon.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Nandom = Home
Please pardon my 3-week silence. It wasn't for lack of activity nor laziness. I somehow survived this long without Internet access. I'm surprised I'm stayed sane for that long. So though I'm back home, trying to re-accustom myself to quiet suburban life, I'll write about my adventures during my absence.
I spent July 18th - July 21st in Nandom, my parents’ hometown. It’s a small town in the Upper West region, close to Burkina Faso border, aka the middle of nowhere. There’s really nothing to do there but drink pito, a kind of beer that they brew here, and sleep.
So however boring I may find Nandom, I've come to realize that it's important for me to return here, because if I can't call any other place home, I can call this place--where there's nothing to do but drink pito and sleep--home.
I spent July 18th - July 21st in Nandom, my parents’ hometown. It’s a small town in the Upper West region, close to Burkina Faso border, aka the middle of nowhere. There’s really nothing to do there but drink pito, a kind of beer that they brew here, and sleep.
Ok, maybe I’m being a little too harsh. After all, when my parents talk about home, they’re talking about Nandom. This is where it all started. This is where my family comes from. Both of my grandmothers still live here: my mom’s mom in town, where I stayed, and my dad’s mom in the village.
This is on the way to the Nakaar house. It was a joke that any woman who married into the Nakaar family would have to know how to swim because the path to the house would flood and become a river whenever it rained.
I visited my makum, my dad's mother, who’s 88, give or take a few years. She doesn't speak English, but for some reason she likes the phrase "very good," which she pronounces "velygoo." It was cute. In addition to giving her medicine I brought, I gave her a shirt with "Yale Grandma" on it. I hardly get chances to give my relatives cheesy gifts like this, so I couldn't resist doing so when the opportunity presented itself.
Even though my parents speak Dagaare, the language they speak in this area, I was raised speaking only English, a fact that completely baffles people here, my relatives included. My understanding is limited to words like “come” “move” and “have you eaten?” Some local girls who called me "Sista Ruth," were eager to give me Dagaare lessons, so I picked up a few more words. I’m happy to say that while I’m still far away from being fluent, I know more than when I came here.
So however boring I may find Nandom, I've come to realize that it's important for me to return here, because if I can't call any other place home, I can call this place--where there's nothing to do but drink pito and sleep--home.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
How to Get Nice Rice
OIC conducts workshops to train women on how to add more value to what they produce. Monday was the first day of 3 day OIC's rice processing intervention in Dawunipe and Bagpe, two communities in Central Gonja.
The local rice that these women currently process sells for less than the rice processed in other communities, like Navrongo in the Upper East. This OIC intervention aims to teach these women how to process their rice better so that they can sell it at a higher price. That's why OIC hired 2 women from Navrongo to teach these women their methods.
The way the local women currently process their rice is to boil and dry the grains in the hot sun, resulting in less than ideal rice. I learned that to get good rice, one has to thoroughly wash the grains, steam them, and then dry them gradually in a shady place.
On Wednesday, after the rice went through the mill, we delivered the finished product to the communities. If you look closely, you can see the huge difference between the previously processed rice and the rice processed with the new and improved method.
Oh, and a woman offered me a spot in her house as her husband's second wife. Thanks!..but no thanks. Proposals of marriage are so common here that you learn to think nothing of it.
I made friends with the village kids, rather they made friends with my camera. They got so excited and cheered whenever I showed them the picture of themselves on the screen.
Next time you're in a village where you can't speak the language, just pull out your camera and you've got yourself instant friends.
The local rice that these women currently process sells for less than the rice processed in other communities, like Navrongo in the Upper East. This OIC intervention aims to teach these women how to process their rice better so that they can sell it at a higher price. That's why OIC hired 2 women from Navrongo to teach these women their methods.
The way the local women currently process their rice is to boil and dry the grains in the hot sun, resulting in less than ideal rice. I learned that to get good rice, one has to thoroughly wash the grains, steam them, and then dry them gradually in a shady place.
On Wednesday, after the rice went through the mill, we delivered the finished product to the communities. If you look closely, you can see the huge difference between the previously processed rice and the rice processed with the new and improved method.
Oh, and a woman offered me a spot in her house as her husband's second wife. Thanks!..but no thanks. Proposals of marriage are so common here that you learn to think nothing of it.
I made friends with the village kids, rather they made friends with my camera. They got so excited and cheered whenever I showed them the picture of themselves on the screen.
Next time you're in a village where you can't speak the language, just pull out your camera and you've got yourself instant friends.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
SO. MANY. SHEEP.
Apologies for the long gap between posts. No, I didn't sink into a depression after Ghana was eliminated from the World Cup after being soooooooo close, though it was pretty sad those first couple of days. I lost access to the Internet for a bit, but thankfully it's back. For now, at least.
Last Wednesday I went out to the field with the organization OIC Ghana. OIC stands for Opportunities Industrialization Centers, and it was founded by an African-American minister in Philadelphia to train people for various vocations. The OIC program based in Tamale focuses on the 4 components of agriculture, water and sanitation, maternal and child health nutrition, and microenterprise development.
Part of the microenterprise facet includes the distribution of sheep and goats. OIC Ghana is solely funded by USAID (United States Agency for International Development), and uses the money to buy the animals. As you can see in the picture, there were SO. MANY. SHEEP.
This picture doesn't even capture the constant bleating of the approximate 200 sheep kept in the pen. It took a good hour for the men to rope up and load the very unwilling sheep onto the trucks to deliver to the lucky women of the Langantire community in West Gonja, about a hour and a half drive from Tamale. The sheep arrived before we did, waiting impatiently in groups of 5. Before simply handing over the sheep just like that, proper documentation had to be done. The women had to provide their thumbprint as a signature. Their husbands also had to be present to stand as witnesses.
Numbered sheets of paper were given out to the community kids, and they stood by each group of sheep.
To ensure fairness, the process of giving out sheep was based on a ballot system. That way no woman had any unfair advantages over one another.
I watched the women walk home with their new assets, happy for them, yet not really understanding how rearing sheep is considered an income-generating activity. Aren't they only useful for their wool and meat? It was only later that I found out just how lucrative sheep could be. From May through August, there is no harvest, meaning no food. The task of finding food for the family is transferred from the man, who farms, to the woman. I thought you could just kill one of your sheep for its meat, but what would you eat it with? In communities such as these, meat isn't consumed often and is more of a luxury. Instead it's much more profitable to spare them and use the money to buy maize flour, and even pay hospital bills and school fees. Better yet, when the sheep produces offspring, you give the kids to another family so that they can raise their own sheep. This is known as "passing on the gift," which not only repeats the cycle, but also fosters unity in the community.
Wow. Who knew sheep could be so useful? Hats off to you, sheep of the world.
Last Wednesday I went out to the field with the organization OIC Ghana. OIC stands for Opportunities Industrialization Centers, and it was founded by an African-American minister in Philadelphia to train people for various vocations. The OIC program based in Tamale focuses on the 4 components of agriculture, water and sanitation, maternal and child health nutrition, and microenterprise development.
Part of the microenterprise facet includes the distribution of sheep and goats. OIC Ghana is solely funded by USAID (United States Agency for International Development), and uses the money to buy the animals. As you can see in the picture, there were SO. MANY. SHEEP.
This picture doesn't even capture the constant bleating of the approximate 200 sheep kept in the pen. It took a good hour for the men to rope up and load the very unwilling sheep onto the trucks to deliver to the lucky women of the Langantire community in West Gonja, about a hour and a half drive from Tamale. The sheep arrived before we did, waiting impatiently in groups of 5. Before simply handing over the sheep just like that, proper documentation had to be done. The women had to provide their thumbprint as a signature. Their husbands also had to be present to stand as witnesses.
Numbered sheets of paper were given out to the community kids, and they stood by each group of sheep.
To ensure fairness, the process of giving out sheep was based on a ballot system. That way no woman had any unfair advantages over one another.
I watched the women walk home with their new assets, happy for them, yet not really understanding how rearing sheep is considered an income-generating activity. Aren't they only useful for their wool and meat? It was only later that I found out just how lucrative sheep could be. From May through August, there is no harvest, meaning no food. The task of finding food for the family is transferred from the man, who farms, to the woman. I thought you could just kill one of your sheep for its meat, but what would you eat it with? In communities such as these, meat isn't consumed often and is more of a luxury. Instead it's much more profitable to spare them and use the money to buy maize flour, and even pay hospital bills and school fees. Better yet, when the sheep produces offspring, you give the kids to another family so that they can raise their own sheep. This is known as "passing on the gift," which not only repeats the cycle, but also fosters unity in the community.
Wow. Who knew sheep could be so useful? Hats off to you, sheep of the world.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Ghana v. USA: A Tale of Two Homelands
1 vuvuzela: 10 Ghana Cedis
1 Ghana flag: 12 Ghana Cedis
Watching Ghana knock the USA out of the World Cup and advance to the quarterfinals: PRICELESS
I can’t even begin to describe what happened last night. It’s a new feeling for me, being so incredibly proud of one’s country simply because of a sport.
It was bittersweet, though. I’m a proud American (I stood up for the national anthem) and felt bad that the U.S. lost, especially after they exceeded the world’s expectations by reaching the Round of 16.
But!
I’m also a proud Ghanaian and my elation over Ghana’s victory far outweighed my sadness for the USA’s loss. And because I felt that a win for Ghana would mean so much more for this small nation than the USA, which is dominant in practically everything, I was rooting for the Black Stars.
The atmosphere in the hours leading up to the match was tense. I watched in confusion as my cousin lay moping around, hardly talking and refusing to eat. I learned that it was a sort of “pre-match meditation.” I admit, I was nervous for Ghana and doubtful of their performance in the World Cup so far, especially since the 2 goals they’d scored so far were from penalties. Still, I was ready to cheer on Ghana with my flag and vuvuzela at hand. It wasn’t long—5 minutes to be exact—before the room we all gathered to watch the match in exploded with the sound of cheers and vuvuzelas.
I was pretty relaxed and only hoped that Ghana could hold on to their lead, up until the U.S. scored in the 2nd half. I’ve never been so stressed watching a soccer match before. Those 30 minutes of extra time seemed so long. But I cheered and romped with everyone else when we scored our second goal, which ultimately won us the match and allowed us to knock the U.S. out of the tournament for the second time in a row.
Almost immediately after, about ten of us crammed into the Land Cruiser--flags, vuvuzelas, and all--and my uncle drove us into town to celebrate.
Now,“celebrate” is a vague term. I expected to go to a bar or something for some victory drinks and call it a night. Little naïve me from the suburbs was not prepared for all that took place on the city streets of Tamale under the full moon last night.
“Riot” is the only word that comes close enough to what I witnessed. Only it wasn’t violent.
Crowds of people were dancing to the beats of loud drums I couldn’t see, motorbikes were weaving in and out of traffic doing wheelies, and the red, yellow, green, and black colors of the Ghanaian flag seemed to be everywhere. I’m still trying to get used to the wild driving here already, what with the scarcity of traffic lights and overtaking being the norm, but to be honest, I was a LITTLE scared that we would get into an accident. I asked my uncle if these people were drunk. He replied, “Drunk with joy!” If this is what people are like after watching their country win a match, I’d like to see them after a couple of drinks…
Regardless of whether or not Ghana advances any further (though I hope they do!) nothing could replace Saturday night. I’m proud of Ghana.
Unfortunately my camera battery died (it couldn't handle all the excitement) before we reached the really wild part of town, but this is what I managed to capture.
1 Ghana flag: 12 Ghana Cedis
Watching Ghana knock the USA out of the World Cup and advance to the quarterfinals: PRICELESS
I can’t even begin to describe what happened last night. It’s a new feeling for me, being so incredibly proud of one’s country simply because of a sport.
It was bittersweet, though. I’m a proud American (I stood up for the national anthem) and felt bad that the U.S. lost, especially after they exceeded the world’s expectations by reaching the Round of 16.
But!
I’m also a proud Ghanaian and my elation over Ghana’s victory far outweighed my sadness for the USA’s loss. And because I felt that a win for Ghana would mean so much more for this small nation than the USA, which is dominant in practically everything, I was rooting for the Black Stars.
The atmosphere in the hours leading up to the match was tense. I watched in confusion as my cousin lay moping around, hardly talking and refusing to eat. I learned that it was a sort of “pre-match meditation.” I admit, I was nervous for Ghana and doubtful of their performance in the World Cup so far, especially since the 2 goals they’d scored so far were from penalties. Still, I was ready to cheer on Ghana with my flag and vuvuzela at hand. It wasn’t long—5 minutes to be exact—before the room we all gathered to watch the match in exploded with the sound of cheers and vuvuzelas.
I was pretty relaxed and only hoped that Ghana could hold on to their lead, up until the U.S. scored in the 2nd half. I’ve never been so stressed watching a soccer match before. Those 30 minutes of extra time seemed so long. But I cheered and romped with everyone else when we scored our second goal, which ultimately won us the match and allowed us to knock the U.S. out of the tournament for the second time in a row.
Almost immediately after, about ten of us crammed into the Land Cruiser--flags, vuvuzelas, and all--and my uncle drove us into town to celebrate.
Now,“celebrate” is a vague term. I expected to go to a bar or something for some victory drinks and call it a night. Little naïve me from the suburbs was not prepared for all that took place on the city streets of Tamale under the full moon last night.
“Riot” is the only word that comes close enough to what I witnessed. Only it wasn’t violent.
Crowds of people were dancing to the beats of loud drums I couldn’t see, motorbikes were weaving in and out of traffic doing wheelies, and the red, yellow, green, and black colors of the Ghanaian flag seemed to be everywhere. I’m still trying to get used to the wild driving here already, what with the scarcity of traffic lights and overtaking being the norm, but to be honest, I was a LITTLE scared that we would get into an accident. I asked my uncle if these people were drunk. He replied, “Drunk with joy!” If this is what people are like after watching their country win a match, I’d like to see them after a couple of drinks…
Regardless of whether or not Ghana advances any further (though I hope they do!) nothing could replace Saturday night. I’m proud of Ghana.
Unfortunately my camera battery died (it couldn't handle all the excitement) before we reached the really wild part of town, but this is what I managed to capture.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Bolga: Days 3 + 4
Let me take a moment to congratulate the Black Stars on qualifying for Round of 16! Although we lost the match against Germany, we're still in! And of course, all of Ghana is celebrating. With all this soccer, I do miss watching Wimbledon (the Isner v. Mahut match is the longest match ever, with 100+ games, and it's not even finished yet!)
Okay, enough of sports.
All of yesterday and today, data collectors conducted the baseline surveys in various communities in the Talensi-Nabdam and Kassena-Nankana Districts. Each district speaks different languages, so data collectors had to be able to speak the language of those in the communities in order to accurately complete the questionnaires.
Yesterday was also market day in the area, so I saw lots of men, women, and children alike on the roadside with empty baskets on their heads, walking, driving carts pulled by donkeys, or riding bikes and motorbikes.
I tried the shea fruit for the first time today in the Kotintabig community. I was a little skeptical because honestly, they smelled horrible. Since everyone was saying that it was sweet and kept urging me on, I relented. How could I turn down sweetness? I was disappointed. It didn't taste as sweet as I expected, tasting kind of salty instead. But I can't hate it when the seeds are used to make the shea butter that my hair so dearly loves.
Needless to say, I still prefer mangoes by a loooooooongshot.
The community had given guinea fowl eggs to the data collectors, who then generously gave them to me. They're supposed to taste much better than chicken eggs. Can't wait to eat them!
I'm heading back to Tamale tomorrow. Though these past few days in Bolga were busy and tiring, it was worth going out into the communities and seeing exactly what organizations like CRS are doing on the ground and seeing such projects in action. I only hope I get more opportunities like these in the future.
Okay, enough of sports.
All of yesterday and today, data collectors conducted the baseline surveys in various communities in the Talensi-Nabdam and Kassena-Nankana Districts. Each district speaks different languages, so data collectors had to be able to speak the language of those in the communities in order to accurately complete the questionnaires.
Yesterday was also market day in the area, so I saw lots of men, women, and children alike on the roadside with empty baskets on their heads, walking, driving carts pulled by donkeys, or riding bikes and motorbikes.
I tried the shea fruit for the first time today in the Kotintabig community. I was a little skeptical because honestly, they smelled horrible. Since everyone was saying that it was sweet and kept urging me on, I relented. How could I turn down sweetness? I was disappointed. It didn't taste as sweet as I expected, tasting kind of salty instead. But I can't hate it when the seeds are used to make the shea butter that my hair so dearly loves.
Needless to say, I still prefer mangoes by a loooooooongshot.
The community had given guinea fowl eggs to the data collectors, who then generously gave them to me. They're supposed to taste much better than chicken eggs. Can't wait to eat them!
I'm heading back to Tamale tomorrow. Though these past few days in Bolga were busy and tiring, it was worth going out into the communities and seeing exactly what organizations like CRS are doing on the ground and seeing such projects in action. I only hope I get more opportunities like these in the future.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Bolga: Day 2
Today I got my first taste of what field work entails. And lemme tell you--it's not easy driving down bumpy roads, going from community to community. I commend everyone who does this, day in, day out. By the end of the day, weak little me was so tired, so hot, and so hungry...
I, along with 2 CRS project officers and the driver, traveled out to Navrongo, which is a town just outside of Bolga. People who have donated the funds that have helped make possible the projects CRS-Ghana is undertaking are visiting from the U.S. on Friday. We went to three of the communities to make sure everything was ready and in place for the visit.
I've never realized just how much I take running water for granted. Clean water at that. We put our dishes in the dishwasher, indulge in long, hot showers, and drink from the tap without a second thought. But here, the water situation couldn't be more different. Even in cities like Accra, water isn't guaranteed to flow out the faucet when you turn it on. And in rural areas, where I visited today, people, mostly women and children, walk miles to a water source that, in many cases, isn't clean, infecting people with diseases such as Guinea worm. (Please don't Google Image this. I beg!)
The first community we visited featured a water pump built by the donations of CRS based in Seattle. Since the water comes from deep down in the ground, it's clean and safe to drink, even cleaner and safer than tap water. I was able to drink some and it did taste good. Here it is in action.
Up until now, I've underestimated the power of witnessing things firsthand. While watching this boy collect water and bring it back home to his family, it really hit me that such a simple mechanism can save the lives of so many. And it makes you wish that every community that needed this had one. But it's so much easier said than done.
After that, we went to the Nokang community. This is the CIMACS scoreboard that tracks the progress the community has made:
The picture on the left shows a woman delivering a baby at a clinic, and the right shows a woman delivering at home. Currently, this community has a 90% success rate, meaning that most women deliver at a clinic. This is no small feat. That the clinic is often miles away from the community and that most deliveries happen at night makes going even more difficult than it already is. As I mentioned in my last post, CIMACS provides motorbikes, raincoats, and rain boots to link providers so that they can quickly get a woman in labor to the clinic.
With the help of CIMACS and its volunteers, this woman
was able to deliver this healthy (and cute!) baby.
I wanted to end this slightly gloomy post on a happy note. With the image of a calm, sleeping newborn in my head, I'm off to bed! I've discovered that so many people say "Yoooooo!" as a farewell. And all this time, I thought it was just something weird my mom said before she said bye on the phone, but it's quite widespread here. So now, I shall say it too.
Yooooo!
I, along with 2 CRS project officers and the driver, traveled out to Navrongo, which is a town just outside of Bolga. People who have donated the funds that have helped make possible the projects CRS-Ghana is undertaking are visiting from the U.S. on Friday. We went to three of the communities to make sure everything was ready and in place for the visit.
I've never realized just how much I take running water for granted. Clean water at that. We put our dishes in the dishwasher, indulge in long, hot showers, and drink from the tap without a second thought. But here, the water situation couldn't be more different. Even in cities like Accra, water isn't guaranteed to flow out the faucet when you turn it on. And in rural areas, where I visited today, people, mostly women and children, walk miles to a water source that, in many cases, isn't clean, infecting people with diseases such as Guinea worm. (Please don't Google Image this. I beg!)
The first community we visited featured a water pump built by the donations of CRS based in Seattle. Since the water comes from deep down in the ground, it's clean and safe to drink, even cleaner and safer than tap water. I was able to drink some and it did taste good. Here it is in action.
Up until now, I've underestimated the power of witnessing things firsthand. While watching this boy collect water and bring it back home to his family, it really hit me that such a simple mechanism can save the lives of so many. And it makes you wish that every community that needed this had one. But it's so much easier said than done.
After that, we went to the Nokang community. This is the CIMACS scoreboard that tracks the progress the community has made:
The picture on the left shows a woman delivering a baby at a clinic, and the right shows a woman delivering at home. Currently, this community has a 90% success rate, meaning that most women deliver at a clinic. This is no small feat. That the clinic is often miles away from the community and that most deliveries happen at night makes going even more difficult than it already is. As I mentioned in my last post, CIMACS provides motorbikes, raincoats, and rain boots to link providers so that they can quickly get a woman in labor to the clinic.With the help of CIMACS and its volunteers, this woman
was able to deliver this healthy (and cute!) baby.
I wanted to end this slightly gloomy post on a happy note. With the image of a calm, sleeping newborn in my head, I'm off to bed! I've discovered that so many people say "Yoooooo!" as a farewell. And all this time, I thought it was just something weird my mom said before she said bye on the phone, but it's quite widespread here. So now, I shall say it too.
Yooooo!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Bolga: Day 1
I'm writing from my hotel room in Bolgatanga, with the Brazil v. Cote d'Ivoire match on in the background. It's become a sort of routine for me here, watching soc--I mean, football every day. More on the always interesting World Cup--and the antics it inspires in its loyal aficionados--later. Anyway, I'm here in Bolga, which is in the Upper East Region, to observe firsthand the work Catholic Relief Services (CRS) does in rural communities. I visited the CRS office in Tamale last week where I was able to learn about 2 projects the organization is undertaking in developing rural communities in Ghana: CIMACS and SILC. (CRS really loves its acronyms...)
CIMACS, which stands for Community Initiative on Maternal, Child, and Newborn Survival is a 3-year program begun in 2009 to reduce maternal and child mortality in the Upper East Region of Ghana, where communities are especially susceptible to high mortality rates. CRS works with Ghana Health Services which nominates high-risk communities. A needs assessment is conducted to ascertain the things the communities lack, like roads, water, better farming tools, and money for starting businesses. CRS gathers at least half of the community and takes a vote; if the community decides as a whole that its most pressing need is health, the community is chosen.
I'll highlight just a couple of aspects that I found particularly interesting about CIMACS. CRS employs the "Positive Deviant" strategy, which identifies the few people in the community whose behaviors are seen as deviant by other members, but in reality are positive. In this case, it would be delivering a baby at a clinic instead of in the home--the traditional method. This also includes the concept of breastfeeding. Many locals think that breast milk is bad, and give newborns cow's milk instead, but breast milk is the ideal choice because it provides essential nutrients that help strengthen a baby's immune system, which is crucial. CIMACS promotes "immediate and exclusive breastfeeding" for up to 6 months. Also, traditional birth attendants (TBAs) are given items as incentives for them to give up their job of delivering babies in the home, and become link providers, essentially "linking" expectant mothers to the clinics. CRS gives TBAs items such as motorbikes, raincoats, and rain boots to make it easier for them to transport expectant mothers to the clinic, where it is both cleaner and safer, and ensures a healthy delivery.
The other project is SILC, Savings and Internal Lending Communities, which provides a way for members of the community to pool their money together in a safe place. SILC integrates with CIMACS by financing the items given to the link providers. A group consists of ~25 members that meets weekly. The money is collected and kept in a box that has 3 padlocks. One person keeps the box, and 3 people keep the keys for the 3 different padlocks. These four people are scattered throughout the community. I think this is a pretty cool way to protect against theft and instill a sort of connectedness among the group. Money is set aside for special things, like social and savings funds. There are fines for lateness to the group meetings, which is put in the box. After 10-12 months of saving, the group "graduates" and the money is shared among the group in proportion to their contribution over the months. Some achievements of this program include providing loans to members who want to start up a small-scale business (ex: selling roasted groundnuts), and even encouraging co-existence among different ethnic groups.
Today consisted of training the data collectors, which number around nine. They're mostly graduate students and those who have experience with researching in the field. Their main task is to translate the CIMACS-SILC baseline survey into the local languages. The questionnaire asks basic questions such as marital status, education level, and becomes even more specific, asking respondents to rank their mode of transportation (donkey, bicycle, motorcycle, etc), how much money they have saved, and about maternal care. This serves as a way to gauge how the community as a whole goes about delivering babies.
Filling out a questionnaire seems straightforward enough, I thought, but the translation of the questions from English to the local language is critical. Each survey will be done orally, given to about 40 members of the community, so extra care must be taken. For example, one question asks "How many people live in your household?" Seems easy enough, right? But the choices are: 1) 5 or less, 2) between 6 and 10, 3) between 11 and 15, 4) between 16 and 20, 5) more than 20. The concept of extended family is important in the culture of Ghana and many African countries, but the question means the nuclear family, or how one person put it, "those who eat from the same pot."
I hope I'll have a lot more to report as I go through the week, but for now...
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!
I can't stress enough how great it is to be in Ghana during the World Cup. Yesterday, we all gathered to watch the Ghana v. Australia match, specially projected on the wall.
Waiting in anticipation as Asamoah Gyan prepares for his penalty kick and....
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL! (Please note the annoying vuvuzela, the bugle-like instrument that has been the constant backdrop of all the matches, which sounds even worse in real life).
The song sung after every goal:
And the amazing (????) dancing that takes place. This is from the Ghana v. Serbia match.
This was long. Props to you for making it this far!
CIMACS, which stands for Community Initiative on Maternal, Child, and Newborn Survival is a 3-year program begun in 2009 to reduce maternal and child mortality in the Upper East Region of Ghana, where communities are especially susceptible to high mortality rates. CRS works with Ghana Health Services which nominates high-risk communities. A needs assessment is conducted to ascertain the things the communities lack, like roads, water, better farming tools, and money for starting businesses. CRS gathers at least half of the community and takes a vote; if the community decides as a whole that its most pressing need is health, the community is chosen.
I'll highlight just a couple of aspects that I found particularly interesting about CIMACS. CRS employs the "Positive Deviant" strategy, which identifies the few people in the community whose behaviors are seen as deviant by other members, but in reality are positive. In this case, it would be delivering a baby at a clinic instead of in the home--the traditional method. This also includes the concept of breastfeeding. Many locals think that breast milk is bad, and give newborns cow's milk instead, but breast milk is the ideal choice because it provides essential nutrients that help strengthen a baby's immune system, which is crucial. CIMACS promotes "immediate and exclusive breastfeeding" for up to 6 months. Also, traditional birth attendants (TBAs) are given items as incentives for them to give up their job of delivering babies in the home, and become link providers, essentially "linking" expectant mothers to the clinics. CRS gives TBAs items such as motorbikes, raincoats, and rain boots to make it easier for them to transport expectant mothers to the clinic, where it is both cleaner and safer, and ensures a healthy delivery.
The other project is SILC, Savings and Internal Lending Communities, which provides a way for members of the community to pool their money together in a safe place. SILC integrates with CIMACS by financing the items given to the link providers. A group consists of ~25 members that meets weekly. The money is collected and kept in a box that has 3 padlocks. One person keeps the box, and 3 people keep the keys for the 3 different padlocks. These four people are scattered throughout the community. I think this is a pretty cool way to protect against theft and instill a sort of connectedness among the group. Money is set aside for special things, like social and savings funds. There are fines for lateness to the group meetings, which is put in the box. After 10-12 months of saving, the group "graduates" and the money is shared among the group in proportion to their contribution over the months. Some achievements of this program include providing loans to members who want to start up a small-scale business (ex: selling roasted groundnuts), and even encouraging co-existence among different ethnic groups.
Today consisted of training the data collectors, which number around nine. They're mostly graduate students and those who have experience with researching in the field. Their main task is to translate the CIMACS-SILC baseline survey into the local languages. The questionnaire asks basic questions such as marital status, education level, and becomes even more specific, asking respondents to rank their mode of transportation (donkey, bicycle, motorcycle, etc), how much money they have saved, and about maternal care. This serves as a way to gauge how the community as a whole goes about delivering babies.
Filling out a questionnaire seems straightforward enough, I thought, but the translation of the questions from English to the local language is critical. Each survey will be done orally, given to about 40 members of the community, so extra care must be taken. For example, one question asks "How many people live in your household?" Seems easy enough, right? But the choices are: 1) 5 or less, 2) between 6 and 10, 3) between 11 and 15, 4) between 16 and 20, 5) more than 20. The concept of extended family is important in the culture of Ghana and many African countries, but the question means the nuclear family, or how one person put it, "those who eat from the same pot."
I hope I'll have a lot more to report as I go through the week, but for now...
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!
I can't stress enough how great it is to be in Ghana during the World Cup. Yesterday, we all gathered to watch the Ghana v. Australia match, specially projected on the wall.
Waiting in anticipation as Asamoah Gyan prepares for his penalty kick and....
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL! (Please note the annoying vuvuzela, the bugle-like instrument that has been the constant backdrop of all the matches, which sounds even worse in real life).
The song sung after every goal:
And the amazing (????) dancing that takes place. This is from the Ghana v. Serbia match.
This was long. Props to you for making it this far!
Monday, June 14, 2010
12 hour travels + World Cup Fever
I left Accra on Saturday with my aunt and a driver. We left at 7am and arrived around 6:30pm. That’s TWELVE HOURS by car. Here’s the visual:
In between naps, I managed to take some shots of the road.
Hawkers stand by the road and bombard your car if you make so much as eye contact. But it’s a convenient way to get your shopping done without ever getting out of your car. By the end of the trip, the backseat was packed with loaves of bread, fruit, etc.
Cattle roaming freely by the roadside. Back in the States, you’d probably get arrested and charged for animal abandonment or abuse or something.
A billboard in Kumasi. Inspired by a certain presidential campaign, I wonder...Plus the drinking age is 18. Take note, America.
Look at the size of those mangoes! We stopped to buy some of course. I've been eating them all week. Life is good.
This is me with my cousins Victor and Annette, all dressed for church on Sunday. Mass was long and hot, but at least it was lively, with all the upbeat songs and dancing.
After church, we all gathered around to watch Ghana v. Serbia soccer match. We won 1-0, but it was more entertaining to watch the guys celebrate. I hear the whole of Ghana was heartily celebrating their first win. It's refreshing be in a country so infected with the fever of the World Cup. And to think, if Ghana went on to win the whole thing...
Hawkers stand by the road and bombard your car if you make so much as eye contact. But it’s a convenient way to get your shopping done without ever getting out of your car. By the end of the trip, the backseat was packed with loaves of bread, fruit, etc.
Cattle roaming freely by the roadside. Back in the States, you’d probably get arrested and charged for animal abandonment or abuse or something.
A billboard in Kumasi. Inspired by a certain presidential campaign, I wonder...Plus the drinking age is 18. Take note, America.
Look at the size of those mangoes! We stopped to buy some of course. I've been eating them all week. Life is good.
This is me with my cousins Victor and Annette, all dressed for church on Sunday. Mass was long and hot, but at least it was lively, with all the upbeat songs and dancing.After church, we all gathered around to watch Ghana v. Serbia soccer match. We won 1-0, but it was more entertaining to watch the guys celebrate. I hear the whole of Ghana was heartily celebrating their first win. It's refreshing be in a country so infected with the fever of the World Cup. And to think, if Ghana went on to win the whole thing...
Friday, June 11, 2010
Finally Here!
Yay! I'm in Ghana! Due to complications with my ticket, I actually flew out on Wednesday instead of Monday. I was pretty bummed, but I finally made it!
I've been staying at my uncle and aunt's house in Achimota, which is just outside of Accra, since I arrived yesterday. I basically slept all day yesterday, and today I went to the mall, so nothing really interesting has happened yet. I'm leaving for Tamale tomorrow, where I'll be spending the majority of my 2 months. One of my internships starts on Monday, and my schedule looks pretty packed, so expect a lot of posts!
I've been staying at my uncle and aunt's house in Achimota, which is just outside of Accra, since I arrived yesterday. I basically slept all day yesterday, and today I went to the mall, so nothing really interesting has happened yet. I'm leaving for Tamale tomorrow, where I'll be spending the majority of my 2 months. One of my internships starts on Monday, and my schedule looks pretty packed, so expect a lot of posts!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Introduction
Instead of packing, I decided to start my blog. Not particularly smart, but I'm a procrastinator, what can I say?
So.
My name is Ruth, I'm a rising sophomore attending Yale University, and I'm leaving for Ghana on Monday, where I'll be working at 2 (or 3) NGOs.
Why Ghana?
My family is originally from there. I was born in Israel, though I've spent nearly all my life in the U.S. I've been back to Ghana twice: in 2001 when I was 9, and 2007, when I was 15. Both times, I traveled with my family, spending 3 weeks visiting countless relatives--aunts, uncles, cousins, 2nd cousins twice removed, etc. They were both whirlwind experiences, filled with so many new and unknown things, yet it all seemed oddly familiar. I came back to the States, both times, changed a little bit.
This time will be different, though.
I'll be spending 2 full months there for the primary purpose of my internships, but I'll visit relatives on the side. Probably the most significant difference (for me, at least) is that this will be my first solo trip. EVER. (Well, I've flown to England without my parents, but it was with a group, so that doesn't count.) This brings with it both excitement and anxiety, but it's one of the things that I feel I must do to "grow up."
At school, I feel there's this need, almost expectation, to do something great with your summers. That, coupled with my intense need to get out of my hometown (I love you New Haven, but you know: distance makes the heart grow fonder...). I started bouncing ideas off my cousin (hey Tony!), and he suggested going back to Ghana. I emailed one of many uncles, and after much back-and-forth, he was able to find me positions with a couple of organizations based in Tamale, not only the city in which I'll be staying with him and his family, but also, the "NGO capital of Ghana."
A little background: I took a class in African history last semester that really sparked my interest in the whole field of economic development. One of the questions the class dealt with was why, on average, African countries are poorer than their counterparts. Learning about colonialism and the politics and economics of nations in the post-independence era provided some pieces to the puzzle, but not all of it. During my 8 weeks in Ghana, I hope to witness firsthand what exactly is being done to lift African countries out of their seemingly persistent poverty.
Yup.
You may (understandably) scratch your head at the title of my blog. To say mangoes are my favorite fruit is an understatement. I could go on about my love for that oh-so-juicy fruit--but I won't. I encountered the biggest mango I'd ever seen in my life when I visited Ghana 3 years ago:
Aaaand for a size comparison:
Here's to hoping there'll be many more huge mangoes in my future.
Next time I write, I'll be in Accra, 5000 miles across the Atlantic!
So.
My name is Ruth, I'm a rising sophomore attending Yale University, and I'm leaving for Ghana on Monday, where I'll be working at 2 (or 3) NGOs.
Why Ghana?
My family is originally from there. I was born in Israel, though I've spent nearly all my life in the U.S. I've been back to Ghana twice: in 2001 when I was 9, and 2007, when I was 15. Both times, I traveled with my family, spending 3 weeks visiting countless relatives--aunts, uncles, cousins, 2nd cousins twice removed, etc. They were both whirlwind experiences, filled with so many new and unknown things, yet it all seemed oddly familiar. I came back to the States, both times, changed a little bit.
This time will be different, though.
I'll be spending 2 full months there for the primary purpose of my internships, but I'll visit relatives on the side. Probably the most significant difference (for me, at least) is that this will be my first solo trip. EVER. (Well, I've flown to England without my parents, but it was with a group, so that doesn't count.) This brings with it both excitement and anxiety, but it's one of the things that I feel I must do to "grow up."
At school, I feel there's this need, almost expectation, to do something great with your summers. That, coupled with my intense need to get out of my hometown (I love you New Haven, but you know: distance makes the heart grow fonder...). I started bouncing ideas off my cousin (hey Tony!), and he suggested going back to Ghana. I emailed one of many uncles, and after much back-and-forth, he was able to find me positions with a couple of organizations based in Tamale, not only the city in which I'll be staying with him and his family, but also, the "NGO capital of Ghana."
A little background: I took a class in African history last semester that really sparked my interest in the whole field of economic development. One of the questions the class dealt with was why, on average, African countries are poorer than their counterparts. Learning about colonialism and the politics and economics of nations in the post-independence era provided some pieces to the puzzle, but not all of it. During my 8 weeks in Ghana, I hope to witness firsthand what exactly is being done to lift African countries out of their seemingly persistent poverty.
Yup.
You may (understandably) scratch your head at the title of my blog. To say mangoes are my favorite fruit is an understatement. I could go on about my love for that oh-so-juicy fruit--but I won't. I encountered the biggest mango I'd ever seen in my life when I visited Ghana 3 years ago:
Aaaand for a size comparison:
Here's to hoping there'll be many more huge mangoes in my future.
Next time I write, I'll be in Accra, 5000 miles across the Atlantic!
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