It was awesome.

The “rally” turned out to be a semi-annual (?) conference of the National Union of Presbyterian Students in Ghana (NUPS-G), which was held at a meeting hall somewhere on Sekondi University campus. It was an interesting experience, but a lot of fun too. There was music, dancing, “drama teams”, and preaching (it felt very familiar in a lot of ways!), followed by a 2-hour “prayer/healing” session(less familiar, but still interesting - let’s just say I didn’t have a translator, but neither did anyone else in the room). The campus was gorgeous, and the weather was nice, so I went for a walk towards the end of that final session. My parents have been asking for pictures of me for weeks now, so I took a few shamelessly goofy photos. Blame them, not me!

After the afternoon of “Rally”/church, we had a few hours to kill before the bus returned to take us home. A handful of students passed a hat among themselves, and convinced a security guard at the (walking-distance-away) massively beautiful Sekondi Sports Stadium to give us a private tour. That was also awesome: apparently this is one of the stadiums the Black Stars play at regularly. In any case, it was way nicer than the last stadium I’ve poked around in. On the way back from the tour, we passed a pond that had become the local swimming hole: I’ll warn you that there’s no such thing as “swimming suits” for most kids around here, but I tried to only upload the more “discreet” photos. It’s too bad, because some of the ones that didn’t make the cut are absolutely hilarious. The swimmers were having a great time showing off their diving skills for the group of students and the Obruni with a camera.

We got back to school at 9pm, tired but happy. It was a good day.

The next day I went to the beach for my birthday, but that’s another story.

I try to give them good answers, personalized depending on the questioner. I try, but usually fail.

So instead of explaining why with a lot of boring words, I’m just going to start showing pictures.

Back story: I was installing software (meta: and this is exactly why I was installing it in the first place!) on all the computer lab machines, so I was using my USB drive to move the installation file from computer to computer. Simple enough, yes? There were 10 computers total. When I started, I had one file on a recently-cleaned USB drive. When I finished, this is what I had instead. I feel dirty just touching the thing. Ew.

(And yes I took a screenshot just to show a text list. Ha.)

I often get asked, by strangers and acquaintances alike, for things. It comes with the territory of being white and foreign; from the “rich Obruni” stereotype. The history of missionaries in this country does not help koraaa (”at alllll”). Being asked “what mission are you from?” and “what will you give us?” in the same breath is not altogether uncommon.

Two days ago at market a random woman told me to bring her a drink. I say “told” instead of asked, because the phrasing translated to “you [will] bring me a Pure Water”, and as a Twi statement there was no danger of having heard misspoken English “would you bring me a Pure Water?” “Pure Water” refers to the 500ml plastic sachets that cost .05ghc, or “5 t’ousand” - about $0.05, so hardly an imposition. It was the principle of the matter that offended my precious senses (that, and the fact that I was tired and hot, and would’ve like a Pure Water myself, had I the spare change left in my pocket).

It’s a terrible reality on many levels: my emotions alternate between frustration and helplessness. There are times when I wish I could give whatever is being asked, but there are many many more times when I’m simply astounded by the shameless audacity of the begging. There’s an ingrained sense of entitlement that seems a part of learned culture, from early childhood on, and which serves to hold back so. much. development and progress. This is not only me venting my culturally-biased, inherently negative worldview - it’s a statement I hear made often by Ghanaian friends (my housemate being foremost among them).

Aside from being frustrating, this phenomenon is also detrimental to my ability to do my job here. Many, if not most, of my faculty coworkers have yet to take me seriously as a teacher. A lot of it is based on stereotypical descriptors (foreign/white/single/female, amusing oddity), but there is also the misconception regarding why I’m here: I’m seen not so much as a teacher (to say nothing of “3 goal-oriented PCV”), but as potential windfall facilitator. I’ve been on staff at this school since August, and already the novelty of my appearance is fading: I’ve been faced with confusion, even subversive hostility, based in large part on the “why haven’t you bought us new computers yet?!” question.

Last week, during the same afternoon that led to my previous blog entry, I had an interesting encounter with a teaching colleague. We were discussing the computer situation, and I was relating my excitement at finding so many “extra” computers. The resulting exchange upset me so much I copied it down a few minutes later (”Ghana English” and all), ostensibly ‘taking notes’ during the staff meeting.

Him: But why don’t you just buy new computers?
Me: (trying to joke it off) Oh, I’m too poor! I’m a Volunteer, remember?
Him: Ei! No no no, you are rich.
Me: Oh, why? You know I make half your money!
Him: Ok, so just call your American friends and tell them we need new computers, they’ll send them.
Me:No, I can’t do that, I am just a teacher. Peace Corps doesn’t want us to work like that.
Him: (Conspiratorially) Oh, don’t mind them. Just have your mother pick two or three computers when she comes to visit.

This conversation affected me on so many levels: my visceral reaction was a lump in my throat and clenched fists (which happens a lot at staff meetings…) — if it was so gorram easy for my mom to buy “two or three computers” then she would be able to visit sooner than later (hi mom, don’t feel guilty, I’m just making a point :) ). Close on that thought’s heels was “you have no. bloody. idea., do you?” [cue self-pitying internal monologue] you’ve never even left the country, much less the continent, and the idea of uprooting yourself from everything you’ve ever known and loved for an extended period of time, willingly transplanting into an incredibly unwelcoming and alien environment, in which you’re seen by colleagues not as an equal but as some conglomerate of gift-bearing amusement/unintelligent-lesser-being — that’s completely outside your realm of comprehension, isn’t it? [/end moment]

Closing out my mental reaction to the passing conversation was resounding emotional deflation: I’d just spent 20 minutes in conversation with this particular colleague, and was beginning to feel warm-fuzzies with the idea oh wow, maybe I’ve FINALLY been able to make a connection here!. Bubble, meet pin.

If that came across as somehow more bitter than the average Sara, sorry-o. There’s been a lot of minutae piling on this week, and I’m somewhat upset about losing my “Saturday Beach Ritual” to a funeral. Oh well. Day-after-tomorrow’s another week, right?!

The only other thing I want to vent share is probably the most disheartening of this week’s “pile”. A few days ago, as I closed class for the day I ran into the other ICT teacher. I’d spent the week teaching classes the meaning of “Data Representation,” complete with the tiniest introduction to Base₂ math and Binary numbers. The majority of the students were able to grasp the concept, but relating a pile of boring theory to the “Real World” of the computer lab was another story. So when I saw the other ICT teacher, I asked him if there were any spare computer parts on campus which I could take into classes for visual demonstrations (“This is a hard drive.” [unscrew cover, play with magnets. Prep the great “reveal” moment of magnetism=binary force.] “ooooo.”). At best I expected to get a bricked hard drive or two out of a random storage closet. In fact we did head for a random storage closet that I’d never seen.

Inside were 25 dusty, cobwebby, flashback-to-the-90s, computers.

Twenty. Five.

Let me remind you that I am teaching ICT at a school whose student body totals 1600+. With a lab of 10 working machines.

When I picked my jaw up off the floor and regained coherency, I asked my coworker why on earth we weren’t making use of these machines, and got two answers: 1, the machines belonged to a private party, though said party hadn’t visited campus since 2006. 2, as Pentium Is the machines were “too slow to run even Windows 98.” I asked for the name and phone number of the private party, trying to joke that “maybe my Obruni power can do us some good!” I never was able to resolve that angle; the best I got was that I’d need to speak with the headmaster first. So I tried the “these are perfectly good machines! There’s so much that can be done to make old computers useful!” (case in point.) I was greeted with a disbeliefing laugh as he ushered me out of the storage room and locked the door.

So today my goal was to speak with the Headmaster and let him know we could use these machines. He was out, so I spoke with the Assistant Head, who seemed not to realize the machines were there - but gave his go-ahead, with the caveat that I would “need to speak with the Headmaster first”. Sigh.

Oh, and as I walked out of his office, he alerted me to the fact that there would be a mandatory staff meeting at 9:30. In half an hour. Sigh two.

During the two hours before the the staff meeting actually began at 11:45, I chatted with a few of the other teachers. My subversive goal was to gather more information about this mysterious “private party” who apparently stored his computers in our closets. Ultimately, I got back to the same original ICT teacher who introduced me to the storage room. This time, apparently seeing that I was serious in my intent, I got the full(ish) story from him:

Unnamed “Private Party” originally brought the computers to campus in 2005, with the intent of leasing them to the school for the then-nonexistant computer lab. Sometime between that point and 2006, the school decided the lease contract was too expensive and so cancelled it. Private Party has yet to collect their machines. After much blinking and jaw-dropping on my part, this is what I was told. We have 25 antiquated computers that don’t belong to us gathering dust. The private party who originally leased them has not contacted the school, nor has the school contacted them, since 2006. The machines will continue to gather dust until either we use them or the owner retrieves them. However, in order to officially USE the computers, we would have to reactivate the lease contract. So… we have 25 antiquated computers that don’t belong to us gathering dust…

The end. If I told you I didn’t have to leave the staff room at that point and take a walk to clear the tears of frustration… I would be lying.

I spent an hour on lunch today, which is about average for my main meal of the day. Most days I toss random ingredients together and hope the result is edible, today was no different. However, apparently the clouds parted and heavenly light rained down at just the right moment, and Yea, Verily, edible bliss ensued. Because something so delicious demands to be shared, here’s the recipe. Enjoy:

Easy Bread & Awesomeness in a Skillet

“So Easy A Caveman Could Do It”-bread:
2 cups flour
1T oil
1/2C Water
1L Nalgene Bottle

Explosions of Awesomeness in a Skillet:
Garden Eggs (or eggplant/aubergine)
Tomatoes
Onion
Garlic
Agushi (neutral, adds protein. Dried squash seeds.)
Lime
Dried Mint
Oil
Salt

Stupid-easy bread:
Mix 1.5C flour with oil, add water gradually until it looks like bread dough. Divide into 8 balls. Chase cat off table, flour rolling area, roll balls into flat rounds with Nalgene bottle (hint: fill bottle half-way with water for added oomph). Cook in pre-heated, ungreased skillet for a few minutes, flipping half way.

Skillet Block Party:
Chop onion & garlic, put in hot pan with oil & salt - the floury bits from previous enterprises add flavour. Add diced garden eggs & tomatoes, cover. Clean up mess from making bread. Stir skillet, add dried mint sparingly because it’s bloody expensive from Accra. Squeeze lime, pick out seeds because you’re a doofus. Add salt again because salt & lime adds to the awesome. Stir. Turn off gas. Eat with bread.

OM NOM NOM NOM.

My goal wasn’t to get anything from class regurgitated, but rather to see if they could apply what we’d discussed this term in a somewhat creative and self-aware manner. Reading all the responses gave me a whole new perspective on how the material I’m teaching will always be received in a fundamentally different manner from that which I originally imagine it is, due to our respective cultural filters. I ended up writing down quotes from nearly every paper I received; here are my favourites:

Doomsday and Roses:

• “Technology will destroy the world.”
• “Technology will make the world a peaceful and beautiful place.”
• “Technology will not allow us to live in peace in this world.”
• “The future will be very enjoyable due to technology.”
• “People use technology to tell lies, because of this in 5 years we will suffer a lot in the nation.”
• “Corruption and robbery all will end and it will be peaceful in the world.”

“…And get off my lawn too!”

• “In the olden days, you wouldn’t see West African young ladies wearing all this short dressing that we are experiencing nowadays. I suppose that it is the modern experiences that is affecting us all. In 10 years coming we will see that our young sisters will wear an underwear only and say that it is the modern thing.”
• “In the future man will leave the planet and build a mansion and stay there through technology, which is very greedy because God created men in His image and has given them the place to live and worship Him and you don’t want to establish yourself on another place which is very very bad.”

Reminders that I’m not in Kansas any more:

• In the next 20 years there will be a computer/laptop in everyone’s house. (similar statement was made in multiple essays)
• “Technology will help us to get off the planet and this universe in the nearest future. It will even help us get to the sky to see how the moon, the sun, and the stars look like from the sky.”
• “In 10 years communication will be easier and faster because at that time when you get your mobile it can call a person in America or any place you like.”
• “In the next five years cell phones will have special receivers which will pick calls and answer them in the owner’s own voice.”
• “In the future digital cameras will take pictures and print them at the same time.”
• “In the next 10 years I expect technology to be improved to produce automatic tanker systems which will provide every home with water.”
• “There will be robots and machines which will collect litters from the streets to improve upon sanitation and stop diseases.”
• “In the next 10 years mobiles will be cheap for even adolescents to buy their own.”
• “In 10 years the prices will be very cheap so that every individual can afford to get at least one computer in his or her life.”
• “In the future they will be sending text messages even if the person is just near you.”
• “There will someday be a new technique of teaching in the classroom by the aid of internet. Through the use of internet students will not find it difficult in learning and writing their notes, because theories and notes will be internetted directly into their various computers.”
• “In 20 years all feeder roads will be tiled.” (or “all minor roads will be surfaced”)
• “In 10 years time they will not use chalk to write on chalk boards because there will be a flat screen for teachers to use with the computer instead.”
• “Students will not go and sit in class to learn but rather use the internet from home.”
• “In 10 years time people will no longer need cash but can simply use an E-Zwitch card whenever they make a purchase.” (E-Zwitch is an independent debit card provider emerging in West Africa)

Happy Halloween!

• The time/season-disorientation I expected has finally hit. It’s almost Halloween, and my mind is still stuck in June. Very strange.
• Met & chatted with a random Obruni in Cape Coast on Saturday; he’s been overlanding all over West Africa since June. Definitely fueled my ever-changing COS-trip dreams.
• I made biscuits and gravy for breakfast today - with no fridge, no milk, no oven. I am awesome.
• On an unrelated note (really! My food is safe, my water yesterday wasn’t), it’s been an “ORS-tastic” day. Fun.
• It’s amazing how such days have become just another part of living in Africa.
• I’m trying to dry limes, and I think it’s working. YAY!
• I’ve felt very MacGuyver this week: added a spring and latch to my screen door, built a drying rack, and made a bunch of new candleholders with nails and tomato paste tins. All materials cannibalised from rubbish heaps on campus. My housemate is in awe of my hammer+leatherman+recycling skills. I’m changing the world one trash pile at a time!
• My cat eats too much sugar. This is bad for her teeth and my sanity. I can has hyperactivity?!
• Every line of poetry, every awestruck utterance, every attempt at descriptive language, that has ever been meant to describe a starry sky: was written with last night’s sky in mind. It was awesome in the best sense of the word.
• Speaking of hyperactive cats: there’s a gecko on my wall right now, and Yosh is trying to attack it.
• I walked out of every class this week either immensely happy with the world, or completely crushed and disappointed. Very Six Flags.
• More on class drama in a future post. I really do have about 3 half-written entries, so I’m not completely full of you-know-what.
• Photos uploading as I type this - busy day at Cape yesterday.
• I. Love. Maps.
• Long hikes. I’ve been obsessing on them for a while. Originally considered either the LT or possibly the AT as viable post-Ghana options. Now I’m thinking a little more exotic. Too early to plan, you say? Never!
• Obviously, I’ve been doing a lot of travel-dreaming this week.

So, even though this is a pain in the rear, if you would like that password then please contact me. Email, phone, text, facebook, instant message, whatever. Once you acquire that lovely password, you’re good to go - I’m not going to change it, like, ever. Send it to your brother’s neighbour’s dog’s best friend, if you think he’d be interested in reading the entries too: I’m less concerned with the password’s super-strength as with the fact that it simply exists.

That’s all. Carry on.