July 21, 2009

In the Belly of the Beast

For the past couple of weeks, Marina and I have been living in Accra. We're working at a vocational training school for the physically disabled. The students are trained in tailoring, shoemaking, tie-die and batik (a local method of dying fabric using wax to imprint patterns before immersing the fabric in die) and computers. The Center Manager was obviously not impressed with our shoemaking skills, since he's placed us in charge of the computer training. During the day, we work with small groups of the students on the one functional computer at the center. In the evenings, Marina takes half of them to work on beginner reading and writing and I go with the other half to read out loud from a novel.















































































In most cases, the students at the center have not had access to a proper education. The young man in the photo below has very limited reading abilities. He carries bags of newspapers, pamphlets and magazines around with him everywhere he goes, and spreads them out for hours on end to pick out and copy down the words that he recognizes.

















We live with the students, on the same compound as the school. The lady with Marina in the photo below is Olivia. She's a fantastic cook and has made us lots of delicious, spicy meals. The door behind Marina is to our bedroom - which even has a TV that entertains us some evenings with its two fuzzy channels.

















One of the teachers took us to his neighborhood near the beach.

















There were some nice, surfable waves rolling in. But unfortunately, the water in the area has been polluted into garbage soup...

















After a lengthy battle with some immigration officials here in Accra, we've at long last got the necessary papers and tickets for our visit to South Africa. We fly out on Saturday! We'll transit in Dubai and arrive in Johannesburg on Sunday afternoon!

-Davis

July 7, 2009

Winds of Change

The winds of change are blowing in Achiase.

The volunteer from America, Amy, has gone home.
Here is a farewell shot that we took with her the night before she left. She's the one sporting the Ghanaian mumu.
















This week it's Marina and I's turn to move on, and we're excited for the change. We're still waiting on word from our volunteer organization, but it seems that we'll be placed somewhere near Accra for our remaining few weeks in Ghana.

Most recently I've been teaching English at one of the local junior high schools. It's a public school so it's essentially free for students. I taught grades 7 and 8 and each class had about 60 students. Many of them speak little or no english, and they varied in age from 10 to 20 years old. Out of this teaching, I met one boy named Frederick who is 20 and is unable to read. He was pulled out of school for 6 years when his father died to help support his family. I have since been tutoring him individually and he has been making good progress. Here's a photo that Marina took of us working together on Sunday.
















It's also a time of new arrivals. Ducklings, kittens, and chicks abound. Here are some newcomers that live under the woodpile in our front yard.






























Yesterday our house was struck by lightning. It's the tallest structure in the area and has a metal roof. I saw a spark on the metal trim at the base of a column inside the dining hall where we were sitting. I immediately felt the charge in my body - particularly in my feet and head. I had a headache for about 20 minutes after the strike occurred. Has anyone else ever experienced this?

I'll update again once we've moved.

- Davis

July 1, 2009

Rainy Weather, Mud Houses

During our visit with the Okomfo, heavy rains fell for several hours. It was one of the most sustained rainfalls we've witnessed, and it came down so hard that even the spray from the rain hitting the patio was enough to come in sideways and flood the covered area where we sat.

The region we were in is very mountainous, and I learned that evening that one of the villages in the valley had been severely flooded throughout the afternoon. The man we were staying with is a disaster management deputee, so I asked to accompany him on his trip to the village the next morning to take account of the damage. We were up at dawn and racing through the fog to get to the village before the people went off to work on their farms for the day.

When we arrived, the villagers explained that a water vein from up the mountainside must have burst, and that a sudden rush of water had came down on the village. This, combined with the sustained rain and the overflowing of a nearby creek, resulted in several homes collapsing and twenty families having to evacuate their homes and spend the night in the church building which was on higher ground. They asked me to take some photos during the visit.

You can see how high the water reached as it rushed along the side of this home:
















Residents were anxious to show us the damage to their property, hoping that some funding and assistance would be forthcoming.
















This is the front yard of the man pictured above:
















The homes are all built with mud, clay, and sticks, which makes them particularly vulnerable to erosion and collapse from the rushing water.
















From what I could see, much of the town was built in a basin, with the road acting as a retaining wall for all the water that came rushing down the mountainside. There is a tunnel about one metre in diametre dug under the road for drainage. I pointed out that the tunnel was partially blocked, and one of the villagers explained that before this flood occured, it had been half-plugged with dried mud from a flood which took place over a month ago.

One year ago, a similar flood in a nearby village killed three people. I passed that village on the way home and saw that many of the people are still living in tents by the roadside.

We are currently just at the beginning of the rainy season. What is urgently needed is to relocate some of the homes up the hill, to dig drainage channels through the town and a second and even third tunnel under the road (there's a river on the other side), and to make sure that the tunnels are kept clear.

Without the funding and expertise for the landscaping and without the will of the residents to move their homes to the other end of the village, it's sad to think that a relatively simple but very serious problem will continue to plague the village.

- Davis

Ascamfo

Our conversations with Ben in Busua had spawned some curiosity about Okomfos. He'd visited six and said each was fascinating. We decided it was time to seek one out for ourselves. Last weekend we made this part of our mission as we traveled to the nearby town where Seth's children attend school.

Along the way, we stopped in a diamond mining village. There is a large mining company in the village, as well as many small-scale miners. These people employ labourers to dig in the riverbanks and hills of their land in search of stones. Once one stone is found, they scoure the area and usually find many more. Traders from Accra come once a week to buy the stones and take them to the city. From there they are sold off to exporters and sent to India to be cut and polished.

Though the diamond market was closed, it didn't take us long to find some men who were willing to show us some rough stones.






























They wanted $120 USD for one of the small white stones. We also saw a much larger (5 carat) pollished stone for which the seller asked $6000 USD. There would be lots of room for bargaining on these prices, but we didn't want to get into that.

When we arrived in Seth's village, he connected us with some local friends of his for the visit to an Okomfo. We explained that we didn't want to curse anybody, but rather just wanted to learn about the powers and practices of the Okomfo.

We went to a shrine and found several of the shrine elders sitting outside, chatting in the shade. Seth and the two men explained why we had come and the men invited us in. While the rest of the elders gathered, we waited awkwardly, whispering to one another and looking at the various animal skulls and other artifacts in the room. We were told that the Okomfo was on her way, and in respect for Ghanaian tradition, we were asked to go around the room and shake each elder's hand, and then for one of us to stand and explain our mission. This done, they replied that the entry fee was either two bottles of whiskey or its equivalent in cash. Once this was paid, they said that our discussions could continue.

We knew a charge would apply for the visit, and our hosts didn't show any concern over this arrangement, so we agreed to pay. Once the money was safely tucked away in an elder's pocket, we were cordially informed that the Okomfo had performed rituals that morning and was resting, but that we would be welcome to return the next day.

Recognizing that we'd been scammed, I thought it best to decline their invitations for a return visit or for photos and to leave the shrine as quickly as possible. We then used Seth as a means to express our displeasure, seeing as he could speak their language and interpret the culture. The end result was a lot of arguing back and forth between the Ghanaian men and the return of some of our money.

Seth and his friends were far more cautious in agreeing to terms with the other Okomfo in town, who happened to be awake. We said that we were still curious but weren't willing to put up any more cash. We still had a bottle of whiskey that hadn't met the standards of the slimebags at the first shrine, though, so we did have that to contribute. We visited the second Okomfo and sat with him for a couple of hours, learning about his beliefs and powers and personal history.
















It was all very fascinating. This particular Okomfo dealt in dwarf-spirits. Though we didn't pay the money he requested in order to play his drums to call out the dwarves. We did get a tour around his complex, though, and went inside the dwarves' hut, pictured below.
















When I asked him his opinion of the other Okomfo in town, he casually informed us that she had passed away a year and a half ago.

I'll leave you with a photo of a blue bird:
















- Davis

Back to Busua

I think we've discovered one source of those "Dear Trusted Friend, Please send me your bank account details so that I can deposit 98% of the $2,000,000 of the late Madame Augustina Florencia Bodais into your account..." emails. The discovery occurred on our second trip to Busua beach, where we met the German guy, Ben, who is pictured along with Marina and I, Amy, and two Japanese volunteers Ayu and Toshko in the photo below.
















Ben has been to Ghana several times, and he asked if we'd ever visited an Okomfo. He then explained that Okomfos are people that claim to be gods (with a small "g") by becoming possessed by spirits. They then act as a medium between our world and the spiritual world, using their powers to heal, curse, bless, and financially enrich. All at a price, of course. Usually financial gains are the aim of young men who visit Okomfos. These young men are known as Sakawa Boys, and when you strip away the associated rituals and sacrifices, they are basically trained in internet and telephone fraud.

While this is one main service, Okomfos are part of traditional African religion so there is also a significant trade in the placing or lifting of curses. Usually Okomfos will completely cover themselves in white powder when they are possessed by the spirits, and will behave as normal human beings when not. Most put on a public performance of their powers every forty days.

Also while in Busua, we were surprised by a group of Ghanaian salsa dancers that showed up at a restaurant where we were eating dinner, and gave us a free lesson. I snapped the photo below of Marina dancing with another man. A less observant boyfriend may have been jealous, but as you will surely agree, I noted that Marina wasn't enjoying herself all that much.
















I'll leave you with a photo of a blue bird:
















-Davis