ebullient poppycock

15.12.05
>
> Bon voyage!
>
> I leave Ghana in T minus 8 hours and counting. The excitement is compounded
> by every Ghanaian who asks me where I am going. I say "America!" and they
> invariably say, "and you take me?" and I invariably reply "Yes, if you can
> fit in my luggage." Ok lets go! they say. Damn, if I had a dollar for every
> time this dialogue took place I could have paid for the roundtrip flight by
> now.
>
> I'd like to write a detailed account of Jen's exciting 2wk visit, the
> swearing-in of new volunteers, what Christmas in Ghana looks like and so on
> but honestly my head is spinning at the moment. I can't wait to step on that
> plane with full confidence I will have an entire seat all to myself -- not
> to mention a/c, cold drinks, and maybe a movie or two. I can't wait to see a
> fat, well-fed dog that doesn't run away when I approach it. I can't wait to
> drive down a smooth, paved road that's not littered with trash. Ice! egg
> nog! NY Times! Oprah Winfrey! Land of the free, home of the brave, here I
> come!
>
> Hey, remember Lunchables. Those little bite-size, overpriced meals of
> processed meat and crackers. If you are anything like me you go straight for
> the chocolate mint as soon as you break the seal. Similarly, I'd like to
> skip the crackers and ham part of this email and go straight to dessert.
> Yeah, that's right: rock the top 10s like there's no tomorrow. I realize I
> kind of blue ball'd you by leaving it out of my last correspondence. sorry
> O. Hopefully, this deluge makes up for last month's drought.
>
> Ok, let's start with top 10 Ghana - America inverses. This blossom'd out of
> the many conversations I've had with Americans in Ghana where at some point
> someone said, "yeah, that's weird. its the complete opposite back home."
> Granted, some generalizations are made that are not universally true but all
> in all its striking how much of the following does hold true:
>
> Top 10 Ghana-America inverses
>
> 10. saying "please."
> Americans say it when requesting a favor, like 'would you please pass the
> stuffing.' Ghanaians say 'please' in just about every context BUT favor
> requests. seriously. You listen to the radio and you hear "please, how are
> you doing? please, I am fine. Please, what is your name? Please, my name is
> ..." Kuma likes to yell 'please' until he has my attention, then he will say
> something like "I am going to school now." But when Kuma wants some water to
> drink he'll bark out, "give me water." "Give me money. take me to America.
> bring me a TV back from America." It seems that whenever an actual sacrifice
> is involved, the word 'please' is not said.
>
> 9. tipping
> It's called "dashing" over here and strange enough, the seller dashes the
> buyer. Not the other way around. For example, I go to the market and buy
> 5,000 cedis worth of onions. It's customary for me, the consumer, to ask for
> a dash. Then the onion seller laughs (if I say it in twi) and gives me an
> extra onion or two. At a typical restaurant here you leave no tip. The taxi
> driver will haggle you for a high fare when you enter the cab, but he
> doesn't expect anything extra when you get out. This is not to say tipping
> the seller/service agent never happens. Its happily accepted by almost
> everyone if you do leave a little something extra. But for the most part
> asking for a tip after providing a service is akin to begging.
>
> 8. birthday celebrations
> If you wonder'd why funerals are "hot" and birthdays "not" its because
> hosting a funeral brings in money for the bereaved. Birthdays and weddings,
> on the other hand, are expensive. In Ghana the onus is on the birthday boy
> or girl to throw a party and buy gifts for friends and family. Thus, very
> few celebrate their birthday. Plus, birth records are not well kept so many
> people, esp. poor villagers aren't sure when their birthday is. Needless to
> say I'm stoked not to be in Ghana for my b-day this year :)
>
> 7. Females carrying luggage for males
> It was hard for me to adjust to this one and to be frank I'm still not
> entirely comfortable with it, but women here are expected to carry a man's
> luggage. Call it courtesy or friendliness but don't call it inappropriate,
> not in Ghana. Not only am I a man but I'm also a foreigner (and thus a
> guest) so its expected a woman -- any woman -- will help me with my luggage.
> My homestay mother during training is not even 5 ft tall but she insisted on
> carrying my big heavy bag to the taxi. It just feels wrong on so many levels
> but that's the tradition.
>
> 6. social atmosphere of eating
> Not always, but typically eating is a solitary activity here. My homestay
> family liked to bring my food into my room and leave me to eat in silence by
> myself. And so did every other homestay family with their American guest.
> Eating together and sharing food happens, don't get me wrong. But usually
> chopping a big ball of fufu with soup is a messy process so I can understand
> why you wouldn't want a bunch of people watching you as you eat.
>
> 5. teacher truancy
> In the states, students like to skip school. Here its the teachers that
> don't show up. I swear. You probably don't believe me but ask any Education
> volunteer and they'll tell you almost daily (depending on the school) a
> classroom full of students is without a teacher. Teachers look for any
> excuse not to show up. The day Jen and I showed up to help at Agou primary
> school, our noble headmaster informed us that we could do whatever we wanted
> cuz Joe, Richard, and he were "on strike." The day before their big strike
> they sat around and watched the kids play football all day. And the day
> after both Joe and the Headmaster traveled to Nkwanta for a "workshop." True
> teachers are paid crap, but they know that going into the profession. and
> its no different in America I always tell them.
>
> 4. attitude towards beer
> Sitting on a lawn chair, throwing back a six pack of Pabs blue ribbon is not
> exactly what we associate with lifestyles of the rich and famous. But beer
> is expensive here, relatively speaking. Your average bottle goes for 8000
> cedis, almost $1. For comparison, I can get a full meal of fufu, goat, and
> groundnut soup for 6000 cedis at most chop bars. I've been to classy French
> restaurants in Accra that serve a full array of common beer, in a glass and
> overpriced of course. Nevertheless, your typical villager can't afford a
> beer. He will settle for a tall shot of gin -- its only 1000 cedis.
>
> 3. attitude towards agriculture chemicals
> I may be out of touch with mainstream America after living in Berkeley for 5
> years but I feel like there's a strong movement away from chemical
> pesticides and fertilizers in supermarket produce and anything with an
> "organic" label is considered better, safer, and more natural. Not so in
> Ghana. Here the food grown is by default organic because chemicals are
> costly. But chemicals kill weeds and pests a lot quicker than walking around
> and hacking 2 acres of weeds with a machete. In fact, vegetables grown with
> chemical fertilizers and pesticides are called "agric" and people here will
> pay more for them.
>
> 2. calling someone "fat"
> and its not fat with a "ph." Ghanaians don't mean the opposite, but they
> describe people as fat much more freely than we do. eg 'Your friend came by
> to visit you. who? I ask. oh you know the fat one.' On a continent with the
> lowest caloric intake in the world, a fat person is seen as a wealthy person
> -- more so in villages than larger towns and cities. Like the fat kings and
> lords in feudal Europe, a sizable Ghanaian commands respect. So to call
> someone fat is, in many parts of Ghana, more of a compliment than an insult.
>
> 1. belly buttons
> Americans have innies. young Ghanaians have outies. simple as that. Well,
> not everyone. But if you go to the rural villages, you can't help but wonder
> why the small children have big, sometimes huge, protruding stumps on their
> belly. Jen and I decided to call them "belly logs" cuz button just doesn't
> capture the sheer magnitude of these things. This is one you really have to
> see to believe. We asked the nurse in my community about the cause of belly
> logs. She said its just nature. Did I ever mention the schools in Ghana
> aren't so great?
>
>
> Good stuff. Now I present to you the top 10 animals I've eaten in Ghana.
> This is meant to give you a glimpse into just how much I've changed since
> coming here. I was vegetarian for 5 years before landing in Accra. Now I eat
> just about anything that moves..
>
> Top 10 animals I've eaten in Ghana
>
> 10. antelope. smoky and dry both times I had it. not that good.
> 9. frog. very little meat and a lot of guts. bonus: quite easy to kill with
> a machete
> 8. tortoise. difficult to prepare, not that tender. ironically, this slow
> small tortoise we caught is the only animal my cat Snoop was ever terrified
> of. He would stand up to dogs and even big ass bulls that walked by my house
> but the tortoise sent him running for the hillls
> 7. squirrel = yummy. squirrel testes = not yummy
> 6. cat. sweet, tender, and juicy white meat. I don't want to say how it was
> killed but I had to try it once. honestly though i've come to believe its
> kind of strange that eating this animal is so taboo in America -- assuming
> it is not a domesticated house pet, of couse. I'm thinking more of all the
> cats killed at the pound and then dumped in a landfill. Wasteful if you ask
> me.
> 5. human. (j/k i'm not that savage.. yet)
> 4. goat. deelish. however the skin can be fatty and tough at times
> 3. grasscutter. this large rodent that lives in the bush is a succulent
> treat
> 2. kamono dragon/big big lizard. I'm really not sure what it is but its a
> large (~1m long) reptile in the shape of a lizard. I love it. It tastes like
> sausage when fried.
> 1. crocodile. like bacon but with tougher skin. i should say its not common
> to chop these guys :)
>
>
> One thing that's nice about life in the Peace Corps is you are afforded a
> generous amount of free time. With an abundance of time, I've been able to
> read a lot of books my professors assigned in college but I didn't get
> around to reading at the time. Here are my favorites.
>
> Top 10 books I read this year
>
> 10. The Tipping Point by M. Gladwell
> A riveting look at social trends, like NY crime decline in early 90s,
> smoking cigarettes, and the success of sesame street
>
> 9. Man's search for Meaning by V. Frankyl
> A powerful tale of life in the Holocaust and lessons learned from the
> harrowing experience
>
> 8. Catch-22 by J. Heller
> Funny. the madness of life in the military exposed and ridiculed
>
> 7. The Stranger by A. Camus
> A quick read but one you won't soon forget
>
> 6. On Writing Well by W. Zassner
> Read if you want to improve your writing ability a notch or two. happens to
> practice what he preaches and even the technical parts are a delight to read
>
> 5. Cat's Cradle by K. Vonnegut
> classic Konnegut. You should not be considered literate if you have not read
> any Vonnegut
>
> 4. The Future of Freedom by F. Zakaria
> A compelling argument that less, not more democracy is needed in the US and
> around the world
>
> 3. Freakonomics by S. Levitt
> A fun, scholarly analysis of random facts, such as why prostitutes on
> average make more than architects and the connection b/t legalized abortion
> and violent crime
>
> 2. Moby Dick by H. Melville
> The first 100 pages are as good as literature gets, then the narrative turns
> into an encyclopedia article on whaling. But the last 3 chapters are
> exciting
>
> 1. Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by D. Eggers
> Laugh out loud story of 20 something losing his two parents and raising his
> younger bro in the bay area
>
>
> Several people have expressed enjoyment of my top 10s but all too often they
> feel the need to compare me to David Letterman. Well I'm no Letterman,
> that's for sure. but I never pretended to be one either. I am a lonely bush
> boy living on $5/day eight degrees above the equator. To drive this point
> home I present:
>
> Top 10 reasons I'm no David Letterman
> 10.
> 9.
> 8.
> 7.
> 6.
> 5.
> 4. I don't have a staff of professional comedians writing my top tens
> 3.
> 2.
> 1.
>
>
> and finally I'll share with you a snapshot of Jen's exciting 2 week tour of
> Ghana
>
> Top 10 moments during Jen's visit
>
> 10. I call Jen a "quasia," meaning idiot in twi, on the bus after she can't
> figure out how to turn on my cd walkman. The whole bus erupts in laughter.
> I've never seen her face so red. I've also never seen someone learn twi as
> fast as she did after that incident.
>
> 9. Sunset walk along Cape Coast beach. beautiful, right? More like a stroll
> through the bottom of a latrine. we had to breath through our mouths and
> carefully watch every step so as not to step in crap, human crap! that was
> everywhere
>
> 8. I cut the head off my rooster and we watch his body run around like a
> maniac for half a minute. Jen was shocked. At least we know now where the
> saying comes from.
>
> 7. I tell a Konkomba man Jen is my wife. He claps and congratulates me. Then
> says, "Oh then you can give her to me." Probably the first time she was
> literally treated like chattel.
>
> 6. Snapping a photo of a beach shitter, then being chased and yelled at by
> his friend.
>
> 5. Our Muslim tro driver Mohammed swears he will convert to Christianity if
> Jen takes him to America
>
> 4. I tell the elders of Kabiti Jen is my wife. They erupt in cheers and
> applause, saying "you're married. now you are free!" Jen was like, no
> actually marriage is kind of the opposite of that.
>
> 3. Shopping at Kabiti market and watching in 90 degree F weather a man
> buying a wool facemask. I swear this is true. The dry season is approaching
> which means the weather will drop to a frigid 60 degrees F in the morning!!
>
> 2. Teachers go on strike the day Jen and I offer to help teach. We taught 60
> elementary kids red rover, red rover -- yes it got violent real quick. We
> gave a lesson on US v. Ghana, focusing especially on the difference in
> family size. America family = small, small. Ghana family = big, big. Then we
> do a 'will it float?' session with the kids. No I'm no Letterman but the
> kids have a slightly better understanding of buoyancy now.
>
> 1. A middle aged African-American woman at Elmina slave castle in tears
> after hearing 40 million blacks died at the place where we were standing.
> "We're still here," she muttered. It turns out she was a peace corps
> volunteer in Uraguay and married a local there. she said she brought a piece
> of Uraguay with her back home :)
>
>
> Ok, now its your turn. I have missed a full year of movies. Give me your top
> 10 list of best movies of 2005. or 10 best books or top 10 whatever. I am
> serious. If i don't get an email from you, don't expect any more from me.
>
> Hope to see y'all soon.
>
> happy holidays,
> kris

dinner with Jimmy

12 November 05

Friends & Family:

Who would have thought that moving to West Africa to do health education in a remote, rural village would result in meeting a former US president? I suppose its Providence’s way of rewarding those who suffer sweltering heat, mediocre beer, and countless requests to be taken to America. Kudos to the karma police.

It all started a month ago when I received a note from a Guinea worm colleague. It said, “Peace Corps called. They said Jimmy Carter is coming to Ghana and he wants to meet you.” Well I’ve always considered myself to be kind of an important person. I mean I’m the fricken development chief of Agou after all. Naturally, the note didn’t surprise me much.

I decided I could sacrifice a few hours of my busy life for Jimmy. So I traveled to Accra, but I didn’t expect much. Most likely I figured I would be just another face in a sea of people eager to hear him speak at some big function. Something like the time I saw Bill Clinton at a Berkeley bookstore promoting his autobiography. He showed up an hour late in an entourage of large SUVs. He smiled and waved to the crowd. We cheered and that was that. Really the only memorable part of the whole experience was a sign held by a resident that said, “blowjobs are better than bombs.”

My experience with Carter was quite different. There would be no sea of people. Carter wasn’t even giving a speech. He had gone to Liberia to monitor their presidential election. Apparently, his flight back to Atlanta involved a short layover in Ghana. During this time he wanted to visit the US Ambassador residence for a casual, low-key dinner. He wanted to hear from six people. I was one of them.

Why me, you ask. Like I said before, I am the fricken development chief of Agou. You probably don’t fully understand the clout that title carries but really smart people like Jimmy do. Plus, I’m a volunteer working on a disease eradication program sponsored by his charitable organization, the Carter Center. He invited our Peace Corps country director and wanted to hear from two PCVs working on Guinea worm eradication. He also invited the US Ambassador, the Deputy Chief of Missions (essentially, the assistant ambass.), and the American Economics officer for Ghana. Their spouses were allowed to come as well.

There ended up being a total of 14 people who sat down to eat with Carter because his wife Rosalynn was there along with his son, Chip, and his wife. Two women I didn’t meet also ate with us, one I later found out was his time manager. Imagine that, a person who’s full time job it is to manage your daily schedule. I am considering getting one myself. All interested parties please mail your resume to: Box 68, Nkwanta, V/R *note: compensation will be paid in yams.

Then I found out Carter wanted us to give a brief report on the present state of the Guinea worm eradication program. He didn’t want to hear statistics, just personal accounts of what’s happening in the program. Well I nearly Hershey squirt my pants when I heard about this briefing I was to give. Madaleine, the PC country director, offered to do the briefing for us but both Adam and I felt comfortable doing it. I took solace in the fact that I am a badass 24 year old chief and he was just a frail 81 year old has-been who can’t manage his own time. I was cool as a cucumber after that little epiphany.

When I first saw Jimmy on the evening of October 15, it felt surreal. He ran by us and apologized for being late (he was 20 minutes late which is early by Ghanaian standards). We all stood there dazed until someone remarked, “that was Jimmy Carter.” I couldn’t believe it. He was much smaller than I expected. There’s no way this great man could be only 5’7’’ (officially he’s said to be 5’9” but I think he’s lost an inch or two to old age).

What he lacks in height he makes up for in grace, wit, and charm. His firm handshake surprised me as it betrayed his gentle demeanor. He wore a tan blazer, light polo shirt, brown slacks, and loafers. He spoke like a professor, carefully choosing every word. And the Southern accent gave his words a cadence reminiscent of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. Like a true gentlemen, he stills refers to his wife as “darling.”

We all sat down on couches and chairs in the Ambassador’s living room. Pamela Bridgewater, the US Ambass., began briefing Carter on the present status of Ghana in the world. She called Ghana a “model democracy” and a “major business hub of West Africa.” To which Carter chimed in, “You bet it is. This place (Accra) looks like New York City after spending a week in Monrovia (Liberian capital).” The Deputy Chief told Carter about the strained relationship between Rawlings & Kufour – the former and current presidents of Ghana, respectively. Madaleine then gave a quick overview of Peace Corps Ghana and our partnership with the Carter Center. She introduced Adam and me then the floor was ours.

Adam Weiss is a second year volunteer from Wisconsin. He had been working at the national level as Guinea worm coordinator for PC Ghana. His report was centered on the structural and institutional problems that hamper the eradication effort. It was largely critical so we decided beforehand my report would be more upbeat; we wanted to sound hopeful about the challenges ahead. Adam finished. Carter thanked him. Then all eyes were on me.

I took a deep breath and started telling him about my village. He asked where exactly Agou fie was. When I said Nkwanta district, he smiled and said he’d been there. I went on to describe some of the activities I’ve done with community groups to raise awareness about GW. For men I said soccer games have proven to be the best way to mobilize large audiences for the health message. For children the school is a great forum. I told him about GW Jeopardy we play. With the women it’s difficult because they are so busy doing housework all day. But they are most vital to eliminating the water-born disease because they fetch the family’s water. I told Carter I’ve found that women will show up to meetings when I offer to paint their nails. They especially get a kick out of painting my nails. I then showed him my white fingernails and purple toenails. He replied, “they look nice.” Everyone laughed.

I went on to point out that health education doesn’t mean a thing if it doesn’t translate into behavior change. I knew Carter had said he didn’t want to hear statistics, but there was one that I just couldn’t resist throwing out. I told him, “in 2004 there were 80 cases of GW in Agou fie. So far this year there have only been two!” Everyone in the room clapped. It was a glorious moment. I concluded by praising Carter’s program for laying the groundwork for future successful disease eradication programs. He jumped on that point and talked about Carter Center Nigeria’s present effort to eradicate river blindness, filariasis, and trachoma.

After I finished the mood in the room was noticeably elevated. In fact, the Econ. officer complained of having to follow the Peace Corps. When he finished Carter told us about the Liberian election. He said it was largely fair and peaceful. There was a very high voter turnout of approx. 75%. He said it was much closer than expected and would definitely go to a runoff vote (a businesswoman Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf ended up defeating soccer hero George Weah to become Africa’s first female head of state). But his optimism for the country’s future was cautious. No matter who wins faces huge, deep-seeded problems of corruption at every level of government, he explained.

For dinner we had steak, boiled potatos, tomato soup, and pomegranate ice cream for dessert. It was delicious. I sat far four people away from Jimmy so I couldn’t ask him the tough questions I really wanted to, like what the hell happened during the Iranian hostage crisis and why did those helicopters crash and what’s wrong with the Democrat party today. No, the mood was much too relaxed and casual to discuss anything like that. At one point he did give everyone a thorough, matter-of-fact update on the baseball playoffs.

My favorite moment at dinner came while we were eating the pomegranate ice cream. Someone asked if the pomegranate juice Pom is sold in Ghana. No one knew. Then Carter blurted out, “I have a lifetime supply of it.” Everyone turned their head with a collective ‘huh’? He went on to explain that during his ’80 presidential campaign the LA manufacturer of Pom was a Democrat and really wanted to defeat Reagan. He didn’t have a lot of cash so he promised Carter a lifetime supply of Pom. Carter says he always has crates of the juice in his garage “and they just keep bringing it.”

The humility of the man really shined after dinner. He requested all the cooks and servers to come out so he could personally thank them for a delicious meal. He even had his picture taken with them. I didn’t get an individual pic with him and I regret not asking for one. We did take a group photo with him – all the Peace Corps folk and the Prez. I’m still waiting for Madaleine to forward me the digital pic (one of the reasons why this email took so long to get out). Stay tuned. I’ll pass it on as soon as I get it.

Other than that life has been pretty mundane for the dev. Chief. Nana Lucas is still going strong. He’s complaining of a hernia now and says he can only sleeps a few hours at night. On a brighter note, I’m jazzed to see my friend Jennifer Wipf, who's visiting Ghana for 2 weeks. She wants to help teach at my school and get jiggy with the drummers.

I’m meeting her at the airport soon so the top ten will have to wait for another time. Next up: top 10 Ghana-American inverses

peace,
kris

meet the smalls

12 September 05

Friends & Family:

The good times keep rollin in Ghana. The rains have arrived and the yam harvest is bountiful. Ghana defeated Uganda 2-0, making it virtually inevitable at this point they will play in their first ever World Cup finals. I am presently in Accra preparing for the arrival of 50 Peace Corps volunteers on Sept 23.
I can't wait to see all their anxious faces at the Accra airport. And most of all, I can't wait to hear all the latest celebrity gossip, like what's up with Brad and Angelina. I hear she's moving into his Malibu bachelor pad. How could he do this to Jen so soon after their breakup?!

September also marks my one year anniversary overseas. Believe it or not, yours truly is no longer the newbie asking questions but the bushman answering them (or at the very least looking cool and pretending to know what I'm talking about). I have mixed feelings about the year remaining. At times I feel like I'm serving a prison sentence, shackled by poverty and deprivation. I go to bed dreaming of snowboarding and Monday Night Football and caramel frappacinos and Arby's curly fries. Other times I feel like I'm living in a tropical paradise. I wake up when I feel like it. I nap when I feel like it. I set my own work schedule. I don't have a professor telling me what to read and part of my "job" is simply hanging out with the locals -- lately I've been teaching several how to play texas hold'em poker. I guess you take the good with bad and just remember the grass on the other side isn't always as green as it seems.

To everyone I terrified about the vicious blood-sucking black flies, I'd like to set the record straight. A while back I wrote in my top 10 things I dislike about Ghana that the small biting flies can transmit a disease known as river blindness. I raised this concern with one of our Peace Corps doctors because I was getting bitten by these bastards a lot lately. She told me I have nothing to worry about because river blindness is not like malaria: one bite does not cause an infection. It takes many bites over a long period of time before one experiences the degenerative eye disease. It's more like the connection between smoking cigarettes and lung cancer. One cigarette won't kill you, but smoking a pack a day for 20 years might. Bottom line: it's really only a problem for permanent residents, not visitors.

I'm happy to report all is well in Agou fie. The Agou-Kabiti soccer tournament is in full swing. Games are being played every Sunday, either against a nearby village team or between two groups in our village. Like a couple weeks ago, the Christians played the Traditionalists to a 1-1 draw. Married vs. unmarried players is also a fun one to watch. Scott, your village Potripor was supposed to have played Agou fie yesterday. To the winner I promised a new soccer ball. I wish I was there for that one. The games for prizes are intense (ie constantly on the verge of an all out brawl).

So what else has the newly enstooled development chief been doing besides organizing soccer games and playing Texas hold'em? Well, the bread oven construction has begun. We've found a friendly mason to show us how to make the dome-shaped mud oven. I've also found a few people in Nkwanta willing to share with us their bread making expertise after the oven is built. Producing the bread on a profitable basis is the main challenge left.

The community decided to purchase a sphygmometer for the health clinic. A sphygmometer is an instrument used to measure blood pressure, aka upper arm squeezer thingy. High blood pressure is probably not the biggest health problem in Agou but both the nurse and our stool father Nana Lucas argued that it is an essential component of an effective health clinic.

Secretly, I fear that the 77 year old Nana Lucas doesn't have many days left on this planet and the nurse wants to keep a close eye on his heart condition. He's lost a lot of weight and coughs incessantly. I wanted to take a picture of him before I left for Accra. He refused saying he didn't look good. Then everyone else within earshot was like, "well you can take a picture of us." So I got my camera and the people got in place. Just before I snapped it I noticed Nana Lucas stand up and sneak into the corner of the group. It was so moving I wanted to cry. Like a little kid, he just couldn't resist the excitement of getting his picture taken. I promise to say more about this remarkable man in the future.

Mostly, what I've been doing this time of year is spending time with my smalls. Smalls is what volunteers here call their small boys and/or girls who gladly help around the house with tedious chores. In return for fetching my water, clearing weeds, and doing the dishes, they get to eat with me, play American games, listen to my music, and their favorite past time: private tutoring or "do school" as they like to call it. I spend most of my time with three kids in particular: Kuma, Yema, and Mansa.

I did not choose my smalls so much as they choose me. When I first got to site I detested the idea of some kid half my age doing my housework. It reeked of child labor, like the tales of young children working in dangerous mine shafts you read about in history books. I wanted no part in what seemed a shameful aspect of African culture. I took pride in hand-washing all my clothes and fetching my own water -- both taboo for adult men to do.

But the smalls just kept showing up at my house. There would usually be a dozen or so. They don't have TV or Nintendo so watching the white man was somehow entertaining. This is a common experience for Peace Corps volunteers. Its known as the fish bowl phenomenon. You feel like you are Truman in "The Truman show." Unfortunately, the language barrier is particularly hard to overcome with smalls. Most have had little exposure to English and only occasionally speak it in the classroom.

Then Kuma came along. He is a 7 yr old second grader who understands more English than most Ghanaian adults. Initially, I overestimated his comprehension ability because he just said "Yes" and smiled a lot even when he didn't have a clue what I was saying (actually you probably do this too when you don't understand people). I had a special affinity for Kuma though because, like me in middle school, he was the hapless lil runt picked on by bullies. I would constantly hear "Kofi, Kofi, they are beating me. Sack them. The boys, they are beating me." I would allow him exclusive access to my porch as a safe haven from the bullies. He would just sit there quietly and smile as I did whatever. When I asked Kuma who he would kill if he had to kill somebody (I thought it would be funny to ask him because he's the happiest, most friendly kid I've ever met), Kuma smiled and said, "Mansa.” Really, why Mansa? “Because she do me the thing no good." Translation: she beats him.

Mansa is a smart, tall, giggly third grader. She was the first kid I tutored in Agou fie. I made a deal to teach her Math & English if she helped me with laundry (self-reliance is overrated). I'll never forget our first session together. I asked her to write her name at the top. She wrote, "My name is bad." I'm like no, no, no you're not bad. Then she goes, "well that's what my parents always call me." Later I realized her family name is Badu. She was just misspelling it.

Kuma has a half brother they call Yema (long e as in Yee-mah). I didn't like Yema at all at first. He is a skinny, tough little third grader who was usually one of the kids beating up Kuma. On top of that he's bossy and barks orders at others all the time. I understand why he's so bossy one day when I visited his house and met his mother. She was yelling at everybody to do this or that, barely cracking a smile to say hello to me. She also subscribes to the old school style of parenting with a stick. Once she was going to fetch water and she yelled something to me in Challa from 50m away. I had no idea what she said but her tone terrified me. I asked Yema to translate. He was sitting above me in a mango tree. Yema sheepishly muttered, "My mother says you should beat me for removing unripe mangos." I didn't know what to say to that. Never before had I met a mother who took joy in other people hitting her child.

But Yema is my boy now. Mostly because he understands my English better than anyone in Agou but also because this 11 year old is a damn hard worker. For almost every major project around my house Yema is my right hand man, my apprentice, and my homeboy. His favorite songs are Elton John "don't go breaking my heart," 50 Cent "in da club," Franz Ferdinand "40oz," and absolutely loves Lil John & Eastside boys "get low." And his bossy nature works well with my laid back demeanor cuz I'm not as good at yelling when kids misbehave. We're a good team. I lay down the law and he enforces it.

There's much more I could tell you about this trio of troublemakers but I'll wait until I have some photos to show you. For now just promise not to report me to UNICEF. I swear I never coerce these kids to do anything nor even to come to my house. Quite the opposite, it’s very tough to get them to stay away and give me privacy. These smalls are my friends and the relationship I have with them is probably the most meaningful aspect of my peace corps service thus far.

At the one year mark I really can't brag about much. My farm has been destroyed by hungry cows and goats. My partnership with the District Assembly has materialized nothing more than a long list of broken promises -- electricity is coming, another borehole well is on its way, household latrines will happen soon. Most of my students still don't know what 7 x 8 is. And the dramatic reduction of Guinea Worm cases is largely due to my predecessor, Steven. He's this guy from Ohio who worked for an American NGO that gives field workers motorcycles and money to actually put development projects into motion. But if I can touch the lives of a few little guys while I'm here, maybe help one or two of them come closer to realizing their full potential, then I'll return home happy because all was not in vain.

btw- I am coming home December 17 to celebrate Christmas and New Year's with the fam. Then back to the bush Jan 3.

I want to try a new format for the fun portion. Instead of another top 10, I present to you a "What’s hot, what's not in Ghana" list. Check it out and let me know what you think. I can elaborate on any you don't understand but for the sake of time I'm gonna leave that out right now.

hot: going topless
not: going bottomless

hot: Celine Dion & 50 Cent
not: Radiohead & Mozart

hot: Football (soccer)
not: Football (aka real football, sometimes erroneously called American football)

hot: national lottery
not: poker (outside Agou fie, of course)

hot: Jesus
not: Buddha

hot: holding hands with the same sex
not: holding hands with the opposite sex

hot: littering
not: trash cans

hot: your right hand
not: your left hand

hot: gin & schnapps
not: vodka & tequila

hot: carrying things on your head
not: backpacks

hot: flip flops
not: socks

hot: pito (millet beer)
not: Budweiser

hot: funerals
not: birthday parties


My condolences to the victims of the Katrina catastrophe. I think the disaster has made two things crystal clear: (1) the richest, most powerful nation is still no match for Mother Nature; and (2) America is still a developing country with many problems of its own, like say responding to a crisis the day it happens or maybe the next day. Maybe one of you can explain to me the slow response and utter incompetence of our elected leaders cuz I'm at a loss when I try to explain it to Ghanaians.

toodles,
kristopher

ghana hot, london not

26 July 05

Friends & Family:

I write to you after a glorious two week binge on the finer things in life. Yes, the Huston family arrived in Accra July 1st, reuniting with their long lost African son. Forgive me if it seems I'm gloating, but I'd like to relive the good times of this eventful month for you.

Highlights:
* Family survives ambush at Accra airport by drunken "do-gooders."
* Lunch with Ghanaian teacher who explains his theory that Americans are from outer space.
* My village Agou fie welcomes the Huston family in a grand and magnificent manner.
* Kofi Dateri (me) becomes Nana Kofi Dateri after being enstooled as development chief of Agou.
* Ma & Pa Huston donate large sum of money to the village, thereby dramatically increasing new dev. chief's capacity to develp Agou.
* My bro Ben scores game winning goal in soccer match played with locals.
* My bros Patrick & Michael brave a night in the bush at my bungalow. Mike meets Nana Lucas.
* Huston family survives 7/7 London bombings
* Ben and I visit every pub we can find and drink to our hearts' delight so as not to let the terrorists win.
* Patrick and I watch a new Star Wars movie that (finally) doesn't suck
* Phantom of the Opera performed at Her Majesty theatre breaks my 5 show streak of falling asleep during theatre plays & musicals
* Ben spends his last day in London watching the Tour de France on the telly in our hotel room, inadvertantly letting the terrorists win.

Now the news in more detail. The ecstasy of our family reunion was interrupted by a large group of "friendly" Ghanaian men who offered to push our luggage carts to our cars. The helpful men suddenly became shameless beggars when we got to our cars. Patrick did his part in eradicating African poverty by giving one man $10, a huge sum of money in Ghana. Fortunately, my ability to speak the local language helped us avoid a potentially ugly situation.

On our way to my village, we had lunch in Ho with two middle-aged Ghanaian friends of mine, a high school science teacher and a fridge repairman. The teacher Mr. Hawkay eloquently articulated his theory of why Americans are so much more technologically advanced and different from Africans: we are from outer space. This is why, he believes, Americans are so eager to explore and travel in space. My father helped refine Mr. Hawkay's theory by explaining how men are from Mars and women from Venus. Only time will tell, right?

My mother made a keen observation on the long drive to Nkwanta. She noticed just how many men (never women) were standing aimlessly by the roadside. They stood alone, without any conversation partner or any other discernible purpose/destination in mind. Sad but true. The only rationale I had for her was the high unemployment rate (15-20%) and the strong patriarchal nature of Ghanaian society. In sharp contrast I couldn't help but notice how few idle bums there were in the streets of London.

I think everyone would agree the most memorable and exciting day of the trip was the day we spent in my remote village. The people really rolled out the red carpet for us. Over 100 people attended the ceremony dressed in their finest attire, including numerous chiefs and headsmen from around the area. The Challa, Konkomba, and Bassary tribes all performed traditional drumming and dancing for us.

The chief of Agou Nana Nyarko gave his opening remarks. In essence, he assured my mom and dad their son was in good hands. He went on to highlight Agou's three major problems: education, health, and poverty. My parents generously decided to donate one million cedis ($110) to the primary school, one million to the local health clinic, and one million to help generate income, e.g. bread oven co-op. I'll keep you posted on how the money is spent.

The next item on the program was a surprise to me. They told me to take off my shirt, shoes, and glasses and come forward. The chief then asked permission from my parents to make a chief. My parents said it was ok. The details of the ritual get hazy from here on since yours truly was virtually blind after removing my glasses. What I recall is our stool father Nana Lucas pouring libations & praying, a live goat being slaughtered in front of everybody, me dipping my right foot in the goat's blood three times, a white cloth being wrapped around my waist, and sitting on a wooden stool three times. Then I recited an oath promising to fulfill the duties of a development chief. I don't think my mother has ever been so horrified and proud at the same time.

Then it was Ben, Patrick, and Mike's turn to represent America on the soccer/football field. There must have been 200+ people watching the game. My favorite part was just after Ben scored a goal, hella people rushed the field and congratulated him. They tried to lift Big Ben on their shoulders like a hero but their efforts were unsuccessful. Nevertheless, Ben's team won 1-0.

Later that evening Michael went with me to greet our stool father, Nana Lucas. Nana recounted one of the great Challa war stories for us. According to him, one hundred years ago the Challa people were attacked by the Ashanti. As natives, the Challas knew the land better so they fled to the highlands and gathered large stones in preparation for an invasion. When the Ashanti raiders came, the Challa rolled a number of large stones down the hill, killing Ashantis by the hundreds. The Ashanti left in defeat and the Challa became owners of the land now known as Agou. Whether its true or not, i don't know, but it was as entertaining listening to the story as anything you're likely to find on the boob tube.

Then off to London. We arrived early on the morning of July the 7th. Londoners were jubilant after just winning the right to host the 2012 Olympics. The mood quickly turned somber as four bombs rocked central London. At the time my family and I were waiting for a taxi only a few blocks away at Paddington station. What can I say? Islamic extremists tried to kill us. Better luck next time, bin Laden.


For purely selfish reasons I submit my newest top 10:

Top 10 reasons you should visit Ghana before London

10. Safety. London is a prime target of terrorism, like NY. Yet most terrorists don't even know where Ghana is.

9. Friendlier. At Accra's Cultural center I made countless friends trying to sell me crap. At Harrod's in London, not one person spoke to me for the whole hour I was there.

8. Less traffic. Ghana roads are full of goats and chickens. London roads are clogged with Masseratis & Mercedez Benz.

7. Beers are bigger. For 1/6 the price you get twice as much beer in Ghana.

6. Ghanaians love foreigners, British are arrogant assholes. Go visit Oxford if you don't believe me.

5. Time travel. London is like any other major US city; Ghana is like any other major US city 100 years ago.

4. When you say you went to London and didn't get malaria it doesn't sound as impressive.

3. The Ghana handshake. The only way to learn the symbiotic snap is by coming here.

2. Will anyone in London sacrifice a goat upon your arrival? Probably not.

1. London will put you in the poor house real fast. In Ghana, the purchasing power of the dollar will make you feel like a King/Queen.

Before my internet time expires let me express my gratitude to big Jon G for his package of soccer balls and LA times. Thanks bro! If anyone else gets their hands on 12 old soccer jerseys and sends them my way i'm pretty sure the people of Agou fie would erect a statue in your honor.

Seasons greetings to all, and to all a good night.
-kris