Getting Into the Groove of Ghana!

           Almost a month after feeling the initial heatwave of West Africa, I am finally gaining some independence and am establishing a routine. The little Twi I knew before my arrival is now evolving into legit conversations with the locals, the mandatory class activities outside of lectures are starting, and I’m now able to navigate the streets to my internship alone. Progress is progress! I'm still in a state where I'm constantly wondering what I'll learn next, and I love that too.

          One of my favorite parts about going to a different part of the world is the opportunity to experience nature differently. My time in France and Colorado gifted me with some pretty awesome shots with picturesque, snow-topped mountains in the backgrounds. Not only did I go to the beach for the fourth time in three weeks this past weekend, but I also took my very first surfing lesson! The fact that I put more than my feet in the water is an accomplishment itself. I normally don’t immerse myself unless I can clearly see the bottom. (Lake swimming at summer camp was an absolute no all those years.) By the end of my one-hour lesson, I had successfully caught a few waves on my stomach and was learning how to stand. I think my personal best was teeter-tottering for a total of two seconds before falling into the ocean. Each splash into the water felt as if I had taken the Morton’s salt container out of my grandma’s cupboard and was just pouring it down my throat and shoving it up my nose. The intensity of the waves also made it difficult to even position my surfboard. Very close to the shore, I could still feel the sand vanishing beneath my feet as the tide tried to pull me into the ocean until a wave from the other direction pushed me back to shore. Surfing is a tough sport that requires impeccable timing and quick, flexible movements, but it was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had so far!

           Though I wouldn't typically describe myself as a kid person, all of that changed this Sunday afternoon. For my Service Learning course, I am required to do a certain number of hours of hands-on local service. Play and Learn is an after-school program that meets right on campus and aims to instill qualities of independence in underprivileged schoolchildren. Some friends and I are assisting with their Mobile Library Program, meaning we just read with the children. I got a seven-year-old girl named Beatrice as my reading partner. She couldn’t read by herself, but I found out that as soon as I started reading, she would follow along with her finger and repeat after me word by word. We picked designated words for her to say, such as “dog” and “car”, and she would say them with glees of excitement each time. Besides the actual reading part, she was fascinated with my Chicago water bottle and loved wearing my West Lafayette drawstring bag (perhaps even more than I do, haha!). The children here are also quick to show their affection. They add "Aunty" onto almost everything they say to us, hold our hands, give us hugs, and run their fingers all over our skin to see how it feels.  Beatrice also practiced my Twi with me and spent a good minute trying to get me to say "Twi" just like her.  Needless to say, I am greatly anticipating seeing the children again this Sunday!

          I also chose to intern at West Africa AIDS Foundation, or WAAF. It fits nicely because Albright is counting my Service Learning as a Public Health requirement.  My decision to intern there has made me more independent because the Ghanaian way to get to WAAF is via the trotro. Vera taught me how to do it step by step and landmark by landmark last week. (Street addresses are uncommon here.)  I usually catch a trotro that's heading towards Madina, Haatso, or Accra. I quickly learned that the mates (assistants to the trotro drivers) are constantly shouting the names of towns out the windows, so it's not hard to know where it is going if you have an idea of Ghanaian geography. Before boarding, I verify with the mate that the trotro will stop where I need to get off, and I remind him of my destination when I pay. Once I get off my first tro tro stop, it usually takes a total of a minute to find another one, and then I’m at my internship within fifteen minutes. On a rare occasion, if no trotros are present at my first stop, I’ll have to cross the street to the station. Then I try to find a full trotro beause if it’s at the station, it won’t leave until it’s full! 

           The trotro station closest to WAAF is like most others. It's a dusty, stony lot that's home to markets, a taxi station, chickens, and any random cars or motorcycles that decide to pass through. As I make a right at the gas station, I walk on a fine line of dust gathered over to the side that serves as a sidewalk. If I feel too crowded or there's a car parked on the street, I simply hop over the open gutter filled with trash and I'm in someone's marketplace. I usually see a chicken with a plastic bag stuck to its feet at least once a day. This past month in Africa has given me the chance to witness some purely gorgeous sights of Ghana and even defeat many stereotypes. However, my ventures even three kilometers outside my safety zone of campus never fail to keep me humble.

           WAAF seems like the perfect fit for me here. People are extremely welcoming, and whenever the website is not functioning correctly, my coworkers and I never fail to find ourselves in a very interesting discussion about our different birthplaces. So far, I’ve worked on data entry for the national website and created a flyer for Hepatitis B prevention. I'm sure it depends on the area and I can't find reliable statistics, but I know enough to say that Hepatitis B is a major concern here and few people know a vaccine exists. I will also be able to conduct my own research project to take back to class, which I hope to start next week. I am so excited for that!

          I also find that mealtimes with Ghanaians are very memorable moments. Not only do they take very seriously the opportunity to sit and relax while eating, but I receive the benefit of actually learning to eat! My tastebuds’ cultural experience this week was bangku, a cousin of fufu. A native would passionately describe the differences to you in a heartbeat, but all I know is that instead of cassava and plantains, the "ball" is made of cornmeal (and probably something else). Just like fufu, it is thrown into a bowl of soup and you eat it with your hands. I don’t think Ghanaians understand the concept of a “smaller portion”. I tried to explain to my friends that as much as I wanted to embrace Ghanaian culture, my stomach would only handle a little bit. I still found myself in front of a massive looking bowl. I sat opposite of my classmate, who instructed me how to eat. She taught me to use my thumb to guide a lump from the "ball” into my four other fingers. Then, I was to soak it into the groundnut (peanut) soup and lean over the bowl as I popped it into my mouth. It probably wouldn’t have been so messy had I learned earlier to put my fingers in my mouth along with the bangku so that I could suck/lick the soup off of them. (Who needs napkins anyway?) Perhaps the hardest part was to swallow it in one shot without chewing. The closest American food I can compare the consistency of bangku to is peanut butter. I can't really compare bangku to anything I've seen or tasted before though. As with most Ghanaian foods, the bangku made my nose run and caused me to reach for my water bottle about every three bites. First times are first times though, and I will go back for more!

         This weekend is one of the more “chill” moments I have. For all I know, I might end up at the beach with some friends again. Other than plans to hang out with my brother Francis, I have a good amount of homework to conquer and a newly purchased Twi dictionary to peruse!