Between budgetary constraints and a desire for Adam, Louis and I to not spend 14 hours of a weekend in a tro-tro, it was decided that on Friday we would get some visitors in Eastern Region to hit up Oda and our home away from home - the Ntiamwoah Hotel.
It started with six intrepid travellers leaving Achiase with hope in our hearts and BoysBoys in our bellies. We tro-tro-ed to the main junction in Oda, then squeezed into a taxi to Ntiamwoah. (At this point it's worth explaining that the Ntiamwoah Hotel - like Oda itself - is permanently empty. Deserted. Completely vacant.) So it was with a surprised look on our faces that we were told that the hotel was full. Right. That's new. So, a little disappointed, we walked back up the track and got another taxi to a different hotel. Which was full. Went to the next hotel along. Full. What is happening?! This is Oda! A deserted town in the middle of a deserted jungle! And THREE hotels are full?!
So we jump in another taxi. "Just take us to a hotel. Any one will do". We were getting a little downhearted, trapsing from place to place, until everything changed at hotel number five.
Oh yes.
The rain started.
And in Ghana, when it rains, oh how it RAINS.
Within mere seconds we were reduced from bone dry to "there's water running down my underwear" wet. And just like always in this country, when something bad or stupid or ridiculous or horrendous or terrifying happens...we laughed.
Eventually, at hotel number seven, the six drowned volunteers found a place to rest their heads. The funny thing about living in Ghana is how quickly your standards can become...flexible. It has a toilet that flushes? And a fan?! WOAH! Sign me up!
So I spent an evening with friends playing Cluedo and watching Cool Runnings on Billy's laptop. "Mrs Obruni in the hallway with the pistol. Yeah mon!"
Saturday, 31 March 2012
Saturday, 24 March 2012
Life As An Obruni
I realise that I have spent most of this blog writing silly posts about alphabets and bucket showers, so here is hopefully a more informative piece about the various aspects of my life in the jungle...
Obruni
"Obruni" is the Twi word for "white man" or "white woman", and I can't walk down the street for 20 seconds without hearing it shouted. I literally answer to Obruni faster than my own name (although this is partially because "Fiona" is very confusing to Ghanaians, so there are some interesting pronounciations). I can't help wondering what would happen if I went back to Glasgow and started shouting "BLACK MAN!" as I walked down Sauchiehall Street...
Bugs
There are three main thoughts that go through my head when dealing with creepy crawlies: "It's not so much that I want to kill you, it's more that you cannot be permitted to stay alive", "I'm glad they're colour-coded so I can tell which spiders want to murder me the most", and of course "How did a mosquito bite me THERE?"
Sweat
My anti-perspirant boasts the bold claim of "48hr protection - even in extreme conditions". I do not know to which extreme conditions this statement refers, but on an average day in Achiase expecting 48 minutes of sweat protection is overly ambitious.
Travel
If it doesn't have holes in the floor, a door that doesn't shut, rusty nails sticking out of the walls and a temperature greater than that of the core of the sun, then it's not a real tro-tro.
School
I have absolutely fallen in love with teaching. I love my classes and I know I'm going to miss them so much when I leave.
Water
At home you hear people say "I can't live without facebook" or "I can't live without my iPhone" but you never hear someone say "I can't live without running water" because it is generally accepted that you CAN'T live without running water. But you can. Very easily. A lot of you were shocked last week about my accounts of bucket showering, but in reality the fact that I don't have running water doesn't even cross my mind. Ever.
Noise
The noise usually starts around 4:30am. One rooster crows and wakes up his friends, until a chorus of hens, roosters, goats, sheep, bats, frogs and who knows what else is blaring outside. And since the whole house has been woken up, now is clearly a good time for everyone to start playing their different radio shows, and screaming across the hall in Twi. Oh, except for the times when I am woken up by gunfire from the army barracks. Well, gunfire and the occasional explosion.
Rooster
There is a creature with a heart colder than Winnipeg in winter time. A creature that fears nothing, not even fear itself. A creature so evil that Hell itself spat him back out. The cock of the walk. You can see what he is thinking as he charges at you with hatred in his eyes, beak pecking, tallons scratching: "WHO'S CHICKEN NOW?"
Ghana: everything is loud and nothing is soft. I love it.
Obruni
"Obruni" is the Twi word for "white man" or "white woman", and I can't walk down the street for 20 seconds without hearing it shouted. I literally answer to Obruni faster than my own name (although this is partially because "Fiona" is very confusing to Ghanaians, so there are some interesting pronounciations). I can't help wondering what would happen if I went back to Glasgow and started shouting "BLACK MAN!" as I walked down Sauchiehall Street...
Bugs
There are three main thoughts that go through my head when dealing with creepy crawlies: "It's not so much that I want to kill you, it's more that you cannot be permitted to stay alive", "I'm glad they're colour-coded so I can tell which spiders want to murder me the most", and of course "How did a mosquito bite me THERE?"
Sweat
My anti-perspirant boasts the bold claim of "48hr protection - even in extreme conditions". I do not know to which extreme conditions this statement refers, but on an average day in Achiase expecting 48 minutes of sweat protection is overly ambitious.
Travel
If it doesn't have holes in the floor, a door that doesn't shut, rusty nails sticking out of the walls and a temperature greater than that of the core of the sun, then it's not a real tro-tro.
School
I have absolutely fallen in love with teaching. I love my classes and I know I'm going to miss them so much when I leave.
Water
At home you hear people say "I can't live without facebook" or "I can't live without my iPhone" but you never hear someone say "I can't live without running water" because it is generally accepted that you CAN'T live without running water. But you can. Very easily. A lot of you were shocked last week about my accounts of bucket showering, but in reality the fact that I don't have running water doesn't even cross my mind. Ever.
Noise
The noise usually starts around 4:30am. One rooster crows and wakes up his friends, until a chorus of hens, roosters, goats, sheep, bats, frogs and who knows what else is blaring outside. And since the whole house has been woken up, now is clearly a good time for everyone to start playing their different radio shows, and screaming across the hall in Twi. Oh, except for the times when I am woken up by gunfire from the army barracks. Well, gunfire and the occasional explosion.
Rooster
There is a creature with a heart colder than Winnipeg in winter time. A creature that fears nothing, not even fear itself. A creature so evil that Hell itself spat him back out. The cock of the walk. You can see what he is thinking as he charges at you with hatred in his eyes, beak pecking, tallons scratching: "WHO'S CHICKEN NOW?"
Ghana: everything is loud and nothing is soft. I love it.
Sunday, 18 March 2012
The Art Of Bucket Showering - A Nine Step Guide
Shortly after arriving in Achiase I came to realise that giving yourself a good bucket shower is a delicate art. Here is a short step by step guide, in case any of you decide that running water is soooooo 2011...
You will need:
Step 1 - Okay, if we're going to be picky about it, technically step 1 would be going to the river to collect water and trekking back up The Mountain with a bucket on your head, but since this usually happens well in advance of the actual shower let's just move on, shall we? So first you must fill your bucket from the water bins in the hallway. It is advised to use the industrial-size butter tubs to help you do this, as if you just stick your bucket in you run the risk of catching a few tadpoles that have emigrated from the river, and it's not particularly pleasant throwing one of those slimy things down your back.
Step 2 - Take your bucket, soap and towel into the washroom. Hang your towel on the rusty nail sticking out of the back of the door, but be sure to check for cockroaches first (these creepy crawlies are the same colour as the door and are easily camouflaged). Undress and hang your clothes along the line strung across the washroom. Make sure not to place them in the Splash Zone. If there are any spiders on the walls just tap the tiles with your shampoo bottle and they should keep their distance.
Step 3 - You are now ready to shower. Bend over and stick your head inside the bucket, wetting as much hair as possible. Use your hands to scoop water on to that hard-to-reach back of the scalp area. Remove your head and allow the excess water to run off your hair and back into the bucket.
Step 4 - Apply shampoo to wet hair in the usual way. Once hair has been sufficiently lathered, squeeze as much shampoo as possible out of your hair before proceeding to step 5. Avoid letting excess lather fall into the bucket - try to aim near the drain.
Step 5 - Tilt your head back and pour a small amount of water onto your hair near the front of your scalp. Allow water to run back through your hair and onto the floor. Squeeze out as much excess shampoo lather as possible, as in step 4. Repeat this process until all shampoo is removed (this usually takes about three rounds).
Step 6 - By this point you should have used around 1/3 of the water in your bucket (maximum). Use your hands to scoop water on to your arms, legs, torso and back. Advanced users may wish to use a sponge at this point. Use your soap to wash your body until a thick layer of lather coats the majority of your person.
Step 7 - Pour water over the soapy areas until lather has been rinsed away.
Step 8 - You now have half your bucket of water remaining to use in whichever way you see fit. Popular uses include: repeated washing of feet, cooling sunburn, killing spiders and shaving of legs (although this must only be attempted by experienced users to avoid a great deal of pain and bloodshed).
Step 9 - Take your towel off the door, shake it to dislodge any insects, and dry yourself off. Dress and exit.
Congratulations! You have just efficiently bucket showered your entire body using less water than most Westerners use to wash their hands. Don't you feel clean and fresh? (The answer is no, because obviously you have already started sweating again.)
You will need:
- 1 standard size plastic bucket (also used for laundry, toilet flushing and chasing bats out of the hallway)
- Shampoo
- Soap
- Towel
- Sponge (advanced users only)
Step 1 - Okay, if we're going to be picky about it, technically step 1 would be going to the river to collect water and trekking back up The Mountain with a bucket on your head, but since this usually happens well in advance of the actual shower let's just move on, shall we? So first you must fill your bucket from the water bins in the hallway. It is advised to use the industrial-size butter tubs to help you do this, as if you just stick your bucket in you run the risk of catching a few tadpoles that have emigrated from the river, and it's not particularly pleasant throwing one of those slimy things down your back.
Step 2 - Take your bucket, soap and towel into the washroom. Hang your towel on the rusty nail sticking out of the back of the door, but be sure to check for cockroaches first (these creepy crawlies are the same colour as the door and are easily camouflaged). Undress and hang your clothes along the line strung across the washroom. Make sure not to place them in the Splash Zone. If there are any spiders on the walls just tap the tiles with your shampoo bottle and they should keep their distance.
Step 3 - You are now ready to shower. Bend over and stick your head inside the bucket, wetting as much hair as possible. Use your hands to scoop water on to that hard-to-reach back of the scalp area. Remove your head and allow the excess water to run off your hair and back into the bucket.
Step 4 - Apply shampoo to wet hair in the usual way. Once hair has been sufficiently lathered, squeeze as much shampoo as possible out of your hair before proceeding to step 5. Avoid letting excess lather fall into the bucket - try to aim near the drain.
Step 5 - Tilt your head back and pour a small amount of water onto your hair near the front of your scalp. Allow water to run back through your hair and onto the floor. Squeeze out as much excess shampoo lather as possible, as in step 4. Repeat this process until all shampoo is removed (this usually takes about three rounds).
Step 6 - By this point you should have used around 1/3 of the water in your bucket (maximum). Use your hands to scoop water on to your arms, legs, torso and back. Advanced users may wish to use a sponge at this point. Use your soap to wash your body until a thick layer of lather coats the majority of your person.
Step 7 - Pour water over the soapy areas until lather has been rinsed away.
Step 8 - You now have half your bucket of water remaining to use in whichever way you see fit. Popular uses include: repeated washing of feet, cooling sunburn, killing spiders and shaving of legs (although this must only be attempted by experienced users to avoid a great deal of pain and bloodshed).
Step 9 - Take your towel off the door, shake it to dislodge any insects, and dry yourself off. Dress and exit.
Congratulations! You have just efficiently bucket showered your entire body using less water than most Westerners use to wash their hands. Don't you feel clean and fresh? (The answer is no, because obviously you have already started sweating again.)
Friday, 9 March 2012
Independence Day (Will Smith Sold Separately)
Last Tuesday was Ghana's 55th birthday, and so independence day was celebrated in true Ghanaian fashion - by making a lot of noise and doing an awful lot of marching.
Ever since I arrived at VAGIS the students have had to march for hours every day "for practice", and now I've seen what the practice was for. To be honest, the whole thing reminded me a bit of the Highland Games back home - thousands of people gathering in a scabby field and making a lot of noise to celebrate the fact that they aren't English (although in Achiase it wasn't 10 degrees and pouring with rain. Also, there was no bouncy castle). All the locals schools assembled in their best uniforms (apart from Sacred Heart and the boys, who were in Swedru), there were a few announcements, a quick sing through of the national anthem, and then the marching began.
And continued.
For two hours.
It was really quite a military display, not least because Achiase (a town whose only notable attribute is an army training base) has two cadet schools, so there were several groups of young people marching with rather large guns slung over their shoulders. I was asked if I wanted to march alongside my school, but I declined. Somehow the idea of marching on Ghanaian independence day as a representative of their former oppressors didn't really appeal to me. Having said that, even just sitting down I found myself becoming quite the tourist attraction as the only white skin there (I am currently Cerasani-less), and blending in isn't really an option for me here.
Once the marching was over, the whole thing finished off when some rather banged up looking cars drove across the field, at which point the driver of the first car stopped, got out, took out a flamethrower and proceeded to attempt to set his vehicle alight.
Got to admit, I didn't see that one coming.
Ever since I arrived at VAGIS the students have had to march for hours every day "for practice", and now I've seen what the practice was for. To be honest, the whole thing reminded me a bit of the Highland Games back home - thousands of people gathering in a scabby field and making a lot of noise to celebrate the fact that they aren't English (although in Achiase it wasn't 10 degrees and pouring with rain. Also, there was no bouncy castle). All the locals schools assembled in their best uniforms (apart from Sacred Heart and the boys, who were in Swedru), there were a few announcements, a quick sing through of the national anthem, and then the marching began.
And continued.
For two hours.
It was really quite a military display, not least because Achiase (a town whose only notable attribute is an army training base) has two cadet schools, so there were several groups of young people marching with rather large guns slung over their shoulders. I was asked if I wanted to march alongside my school, but I declined. Somehow the idea of marching on Ghanaian independence day as a representative of their former oppressors didn't really appeal to me. Having said that, even just sitting down I found myself becoming quite the tourist attraction as the only white skin there (I am currently Cerasani-less), and blending in isn't really an option for me here.
Once the marching was over, the whole thing finished off when some rather banged up looking cars drove across the field, at which point the driver of the first car stopped, got out, took out a flamethrower and proceeded to attempt to set his vehicle alight.
Got to admit, I didn't see that one coming.
Friday, 2 March 2012
Achiase Alphabet
A is for air-conditioning, though it's rarely to be found
B is for bucket showers and tro-tros breaking down
C is for cockroaches and their kingdom made in Hell
D is for Doxycycline and our other drugs as well
E is for electricity, when the power's actually on
F is for the fan we wish we'd had but now it's gone
G is for Ghana-time, where numbers mean exactly squat
H is for heat and heat and heat and heat and hot
I is for ice cream and the huge amounts I crave it
J is for jollof rice, though the red stuff's not my favourite
K is for Kwabe and Kwasi, the boys' nicknames in Twi
L is for Linda who makes our food daily
M is for monster spiders that live on our bedroom wall
N is for the nights we spend watching Champions' League football
O is for Obruni, we're the only ones in town
P is for the pictures we take when we travel 'round
Q is for the questionable meat we find in our dinner
R is for the rice that makes me fat and Adam thinner
S is for the sun, sunscreen, sunburn and sunstroke too
T is for toilet, how I miss a proper loo!
U is for the unbelievable volume at which Ghanaians make a speech
V is for VAGIS, that's the school at which we teach
W is for waking up at 4am in our beds
X is for xenophobia, it's a fine line we all tread
Y is for yam chips, they really are the best
Z is undefined (because I couldn't think of anything)
B is for bucket showers and tro-tros breaking down
C is for cockroaches and their kingdom made in Hell
D is for Doxycycline and our other drugs as well
E is for electricity, when the power's actually on
F is for the fan we wish we'd had but now it's gone
G is for Ghana-time, where numbers mean exactly squat
H is for heat and heat and heat and heat and hot
I is for ice cream and the huge amounts I crave it
J is for jollof rice, though the red stuff's not my favourite
K is for Kwabe and Kwasi, the boys' nicknames in Twi
L is for Linda who makes our food daily
M is for monster spiders that live on our bedroom wall
N is for the nights we spend watching Champions' League football
O is for Obruni, we're the only ones in town
P is for the pictures we take when we travel 'round
Q is for the questionable meat we find in our dinner
R is for the rice that makes me fat and Adam thinner
S is for the sun, sunscreen, sunburn and sunstroke too
T is for toilet, how I miss a proper loo!
U is for the unbelievable volume at which Ghanaians make a speech
V is for VAGIS, that's the school at which we teach
W is for waking up at 4am in our beds
X is for xenophobia, it's a fine line we all tread
Y is for yam chips, they really are the best
Z is undefined (because I couldn't think of anything)
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
Kwabe, Kwasi And The Afias
So here's some information about the four white guys stuck in the middle of the jungle in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Ghana...
Name: Adam Manly
A.k.a: Coach Love
Origin: Norfolk, U.K.
Likes: Sport, People, Music, Food
Dislikes: Cockroaches, Butter
Biggest Fear About Ghana: A cockroach will climb up my anus whilst on the toilet
Special Skills: Stickers
Name: Amy Cerasani
A.k.a: Emily / Snorlax
Origin: Winnipeg, CANADA
Likes: Canadian candy, SUGAR, Food, My daddy
Dislikes: Monster spiders
Biggest Fear About Ghana: Getting eaten by a chicken
Special Skills: Can talk to goats
Name: Louis Marquette
A.k.a: Uncle Louis / Asshole
Origin: Montreal, CANADA (also Vancouver)
Likes: Soft, Cold, Edible
Dislikes: Things that live where I poop
Biggest Fear About Ghana: see 'Dislikes'
Special Skills: Killing monster spiders using only a cooler lid
Name: Fiona Buckmaster
A.k.a: Madame Princess / Mrs. Science Guy
Origin: Glasgow, U.K.
Likes: Air Conditioning, Thinking about food from home
Dislikes: Smelly towels
Biggest Fear About Ghana: Worms will grow in my feet
Special Skills: Ability to catch a cold in a subtropical climate
(Note: I tried to put pictures on this blog post but clearly the internet in Ghana just hates me. Sorry!)
Name: Adam Manly
A.k.a: Coach Love
Origin: Norfolk, U.K.
Likes: Sport, People, Music, Food
Dislikes: Cockroaches, Butter
Biggest Fear About Ghana: A cockroach will climb up my anus whilst on the toilet
Special Skills: Stickers
Name: Amy Cerasani
A.k.a: Emily / Snorlax
Origin: Winnipeg, CANADA
Likes: Canadian candy, SUGAR, Food, My daddy
Dislikes: Monster spiders
Biggest Fear About Ghana: Getting eaten by a chicken
Special Skills: Can talk to goats
Name: Louis Marquette
A.k.a: Uncle Louis / Asshole
Origin: Montreal, CANADA (also Vancouver)
Likes: Soft, Cold, Edible
Dislikes: Things that live where I poop
Biggest Fear About Ghana: see 'Dislikes'
Special Skills: Killing monster spiders using only a cooler lid
Name: Fiona Buckmaster
A.k.a: Madame Princess / Mrs. Science Guy
Origin: Glasgow, U.K.
Likes: Air Conditioning, Thinking about food from home
Dislikes: Smelly towels
Biggest Fear About Ghana: Worms will grow in my feet
Special Skills: Ability to catch a cold in a subtropical climate
(Note: I tried to put pictures on this blog post but clearly the internet in Ghana just hates me. Sorry!)
Saturday, 18 February 2012
The Sweatiest Internet Cafe In The World
This blog post comes to you in six parts.
Part One - The Road To Achiase
On Sunday, the volunteers made the move from the big house in Accra to our respective placements.
Eighteen of us pile into a lovely big air-conditioned bus, bags strapped to the roof, and the journey begins. The first hour or so is pretty uneventful, most people just sit & nap in the relative comfort of the bus, but THEN, in a random town in the middle of Central Region, the Achiase volunteers are asked to disembark. What's this? This isn't our placement! Are we to be left to fend for ourselves in this unexpected town? How long can we four survive on just the three packets of Mentos in my rucksack? But NO! Along comes a tro-tro with the legend "Victory Assemblies Of God International School" (our school!) emblazened on the side. Saved by the school bus! So Amy, Louis, Adam and I climb into the tro-tro...and realise it was built for people less than 4ft tall. This thing is seriously tiny. Even I felt squished in there. And so the midget tro-tro speeds us away from our fellow volunteers, picking up and dropping extra passengers as it goes, and carries us to our new home. Which brings us to...
Part Two - Whitney Houston And Other Deaths
The first piece of news from the Western World to reach us out here (that wasn't football related!) came in the form of a phonecall from my mother.
"Did you hear that Whitney Houston died?"
No, mum, that particular little nugget of information hadn't actually reached me in the jungle. And then, just two days after this piece of news shattered our world, Amy and I were whisked away from school with a couple of other teachers to visit the funeral of a VAGIS pupil's father.
A Ghanaian funeral is unlike anything I have ever experienced. The first segment (or level, or whatever you want to call it) consists of lots and LOTS of people dressed in black and red dancing fervently in front of a WALL OF SPEAKERS which is blaring out music. Loudly. You walk through segment one, are momentarily crushed, and then emerge into segment two. Segment two is a large circle made of chairs and bodies and grief. Everywhere you look there is sobbing and wailing, and those who attempt to walk trip and stumble over their own cries. And in the centre of the segment two loop is segment three. I did not experience segment three. It was hidden from view by curtains, but I knew what was inside. The body. The sound of the cries issuing from segment three cannot be described. Suffice to say I was glad to get back into the midget tro-tro.
Part Three - The Deep End
This week at school was supposed to be an observation week for us to learn how a Ghanaian classroom works. Note the phrase "supposed to be". On Tuesday, our first day at VAGIS, I spent the first part of the morning observing Class 6 (10 year olds) being taught Maths and French. After the funeral interlude, I returned to school and walked into class to find no teacher.
"Where is your teacher?" I ask. "You are our teacher, Madam Fiona". Right. "What would you like me to teach you?". A chorus replies "Science, Madam". Still thinking at this point that this is a joke, I say "But I have no books". A pupil calmly stands up, exits the class, and returns a minute later with a textbook. He opens the book at the page titled "Respiration" and says "You are to teach us this".
Okay. Respiration.
So with no lesson plan, no preparation, and no warning, I begin to teach. As I read the textbook I write a note on the blackboard for the pupils to copy, and soon realise that this work is far too advanced for 10 year olds. But I plough on nonetheless, simplifying where I can. I explain the note and decide to get some feedback.
"Does everybody understand?" - "Yes, Madam"
"Is there anything that anybody does not understand?" - "No, Madam"
"Are you sure?" - "Yes, Madam"
"So can anybody raise their hand and tell me what blood vessels do?" - blank stares.
Oh dear.
This could be difficult.
Part Four - Demonspawn
Aragog, Shelob and The Empress Of The Racnoss had a lovechild, and it lives on our bedroom wall.
Part Five - A Welcome Surprise
On the Friday of our first week at school, VAGIS held an official welcome ceremony for their White Sisters. The entire school crammed into the main school hall, and the sweating began. After the speeches from teachers and proprietors and PTA members and such, they decided that it would be best for Amy and I to experience some African dancing. We spent ten minutes watching pupils in groups of two or three dancing to some African beats. These kids are just amazing. Not only are they the most polite, humble and happy children I have ever met, man, can these kids boogie. Then, after a quarter of an hour...HORROR! The White Ladies are called upon to dance. Well, this is going to be embarassing, I think. But gladly, an idea strikes me, so just after the music starts up I invite some of the pupils in front of me up to dance, and before I know it there is a full on rave occurring in the packed hall of my Achiase school.
This will go down in history as the sweatiest moment of my life. I have been in some sweaty places before (a certain No. 42 bus in China comes to mind) but that was unbelievable.
When the dancing had finished, and the children began to leave, an unexpected gift arrived. RAIN. HONEST TO GOD RAIN.
I ran outside, and danced some more.
Part Six - Worshiping At The Temple Of Air-Con
Last night, we traveled to Oda and stayed at a hotel. Executive suite, running water (flushing toilet!!), shower, good booze, tv, big bed, and most importantly, air-conditioning. And how much did this luxury cost?
Four. English. Pounds.
Heaven.
Part One - The Road To Achiase
On Sunday, the volunteers made the move from the big house in Accra to our respective placements.
Eighteen of us pile into a lovely big air-conditioned bus, bags strapped to the roof, and the journey begins. The first hour or so is pretty uneventful, most people just sit & nap in the relative comfort of the bus, but THEN, in a random town in the middle of Central Region, the Achiase volunteers are asked to disembark. What's this? This isn't our placement! Are we to be left to fend for ourselves in this unexpected town? How long can we four survive on just the three packets of Mentos in my rucksack? But NO! Along comes a tro-tro with the legend "Victory Assemblies Of God International School" (our school!) emblazened on the side. Saved by the school bus! So Amy, Louis, Adam and I climb into the tro-tro...and realise it was built for people less than 4ft tall. This thing is seriously tiny. Even I felt squished in there. And so the midget tro-tro speeds us away from our fellow volunteers, picking up and dropping extra passengers as it goes, and carries us to our new home. Which brings us to...
Part Two - Whitney Houston And Other Deaths
The first piece of news from the Western World to reach us out here (that wasn't football related!) came in the form of a phonecall from my mother.
"Did you hear that Whitney Houston died?"
No, mum, that particular little nugget of information hadn't actually reached me in the jungle. And then, just two days after this piece of news shattered our world, Amy and I were whisked away from school with a couple of other teachers to visit the funeral of a VAGIS pupil's father.
A Ghanaian funeral is unlike anything I have ever experienced. The first segment (or level, or whatever you want to call it) consists of lots and LOTS of people dressed in black and red dancing fervently in front of a WALL OF SPEAKERS which is blaring out music. Loudly. You walk through segment one, are momentarily crushed, and then emerge into segment two. Segment two is a large circle made of chairs and bodies and grief. Everywhere you look there is sobbing and wailing, and those who attempt to walk trip and stumble over their own cries. And in the centre of the segment two loop is segment three. I did not experience segment three. It was hidden from view by curtains, but I knew what was inside. The body. The sound of the cries issuing from segment three cannot be described. Suffice to say I was glad to get back into the midget tro-tro.
Part Three - The Deep End
This week at school was supposed to be an observation week for us to learn how a Ghanaian classroom works. Note the phrase "supposed to be". On Tuesday, our first day at VAGIS, I spent the first part of the morning observing Class 6 (10 year olds) being taught Maths and French. After the funeral interlude, I returned to school and walked into class to find no teacher.
"Where is your teacher?" I ask. "You are our teacher, Madam Fiona". Right. "What would you like me to teach you?". A chorus replies "Science, Madam". Still thinking at this point that this is a joke, I say "But I have no books". A pupil calmly stands up, exits the class, and returns a minute later with a textbook. He opens the book at the page titled "Respiration" and says "You are to teach us this".
Okay. Respiration.
So with no lesson plan, no preparation, and no warning, I begin to teach. As I read the textbook I write a note on the blackboard for the pupils to copy, and soon realise that this work is far too advanced for 10 year olds. But I plough on nonetheless, simplifying where I can. I explain the note and decide to get some feedback.
"Does everybody understand?" - "Yes, Madam"
"Is there anything that anybody does not understand?" - "No, Madam"
"Are you sure?" - "Yes, Madam"
"So can anybody raise their hand and tell me what blood vessels do?" - blank stares.
Oh dear.
This could be difficult.
Part Four - Demonspawn
Aragog, Shelob and The Empress Of The Racnoss had a lovechild, and it lives on our bedroom wall.
Part Five - A Welcome Surprise
On the Friday of our first week at school, VAGIS held an official welcome ceremony for their White Sisters. The entire school crammed into the main school hall, and the sweating began. After the speeches from teachers and proprietors and PTA members and such, they decided that it would be best for Amy and I to experience some African dancing. We spent ten minutes watching pupils in groups of two or three dancing to some African beats. These kids are just amazing. Not only are they the most polite, humble and happy children I have ever met, man, can these kids boogie. Then, after a quarter of an hour...HORROR! The White Ladies are called upon to dance. Well, this is going to be embarassing, I think. But gladly, an idea strikes me, so just after the music starts up I invite some of the pupils in front of me up to dance, and before I know it there is a full on rave occurring in the packed hall of my Achiase school.
This will go down in history as the sweatiest moment of my life. I have been in some sweaty places before (a certain No. 42 bus in China comes to mind) but that was unbelievable.
When the dancing had finished, and the children began to leave, an unexpected gift arrived. RAIN. HONEST TO GOD RAIN.
I ran outside, and danced some more.
Part Six - Worshiping At The Temple Of Air-Con
Last night, we traveled to Oda and stayed at a hotel. Executive suite, running water (flushing toilet!!), shower, good booze, tv, big bed, and most importantly, air-conditioning. And how much did this luxury cost?
Four. English. Pounds.
Heaven.
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