Arrival in Tamale, and saying that still makes me hungry

After the bus ride from Busua, to Accra, Adjavon, the country director for Ghana, picked me up and took me to his home in the suburb of Osu. He lives in a beautifully decorated house behind a large gate with a guard. I was to stay in the guesthouse, which had a kitchen, small living room, and bedroom with a huge bed. Yeah, I don’t ask for this kind of luxury, but when it is offered to me for a couple days at no cost, I’m all over it. I met Adjavon’s French wife (Adjavon is originally from Togo) and 3 of his 4 “half-caste” kids who attend the international school. At dinner, the middle one, a 9th grader, was talking about the debates they were having in her class about globalization, the world bank, and the WTO, and their affects on development and culture. I was quite impressed that her school was able to tackle these issues so early. I figure we don’t touch that in public schools in America as the topics are too controversial, or maybe our system is just too Ameri-centric.
The next day we went to the office to go over my scope of work for my internship and discuss possibilities for what I will be doing during my stay in Ghana, as well as a bit of paperwork. I met a ton of staff that I probably would not be seeing again, then Willy, and Admin Assistant, took me around Accra to run some errands and see the city. We got my plane ticket to Tamale, visited several offices trying to get my visa extended, got new passport photos taken, and drove past the American embassy, a gleaming, enormous and heavily fortified structure. The highlight of the day was lunch. Willy took me to a street side food stall where they were serving “red-red”. White beans cooked in palm oil and spices topped with a couple of different spicy sauces, and served with fried plantains. I mashed the plantains up with my fingers and used the chunks to scoop up the beans. It was awesome, but $.90 of this stuff was enough to fill me up and barely have any room for dinner 7 hours later.
The next morning I had to get up at about 3:45 for my flight up to Tamale. The plane took off around sunrise, the haze from the harmattan causing the sun to be dim and red. I was hoping to be able to see the ground during the flight and watch the landscape shift from the green rainforests, to the brown savannah. Unfortunately we flew above the sand clouds carried from the Sahara by the seasonal harmattan winds. As we descended, though, I saw the tan backdrop, dotted with trees and clusters of round mud huts with thatched roofs, arranged in circles, circles arranged into villages. It was like landing in a whole new Africa. Not the southern, and relatively modernized Ghana, but something different. I was brimming with the same excitement as when I landed in Accra.
Rashid, one of the drivers where I am working, was also on the flight, and his boss picked us up. About halfway to town, we stopped because Rashid wanted to get something to eat at a roadside stand. A woman served us each a large bag of “watchay”, a rice and beans, not unlike gallo pinto in Nicaragua and Costa Rica, topped with a mix of cabbabe, onion and tomatoes, plus a hunk of fish, a chunk of dry lamb and some spicy sauces. My review: meh, not bad. When we got to the office, I was introduced to the greatly dwindled staff. Until very recently, the NGO received about $11.5 million annually from USAID (United States Agency for International Development), which mostly funded a school feeding program (the Ghanaian government has a school feeding program already, but in the north it does not have the logistics to implement it, and that’s where this NGO comes in). The money also funded an HIV/AIDS support network program and partially funded other programs. The USAID money accounted for over 90% of funds for this NGO, and therefore, there is no longer a need for the majority of the staff here. The funding was cut because, as a country, Ghana is doing relatively well for the region. On paper it looks as if Ghana is pulling itself out of poverty, and in the south, that is a fair assumption. But the only the only program outside of the three northern regions is a couple of HIV/AIDS support groups. Where we actually work is in a pretty similar economic situation as the neighboring countries. I was immediately angered by the loss of funding, but the country director and other staff members seem optimistic. I guess that’s all you can do.
They put me right to work and my first assignment was a project to get ready for an upcoming delegation of American priests who are visiting the programs in Burkina Faso and Ghana. Apparently the staff in Burkina had come up with a nice packet of information (project briefs, staff bios, itineraries, etc.), but with the lack of staff here, it had not happened. So compiling this and making changes to the itinerary was now my job. Halfway through the day Thomas, the Global Solidarity Coordinator, and a few other staff members and I went to get some lunch. We walked to the nearest little stand and got a few bags of food to bring back. About $2.50 for enough food for 4 of us. Fried yams and plantains, beans, sauces, and ground peanuts. A pretty satisfying lunch that we ate communally standing around a table back at the office. I kinda wanted to sit around the table, but they said only the women sit to eat. I followed suit, but I felt that our eating positions should not be dictated by our urinating positions.
At the end of the day Thomas took me back to the hotel I had checked into that morning, the place they had arranged for me to stay. Catholic Guest House. Even though the prices in 2006 were about $8/night for a single, they were charging $18 now! Even before I could tell Thomas that I would not be able to afford this, he was chatting with a manager, trying to get a discount. He seemed to know everyone there, many of which he introduced me to as priests. He eventually talked to one of the priests who ran the place (or at least had a lot of influence) and apparently worked out a deal so I could stay for only $10/night. This could be feasible, but I have still never stayed at a place that expensive for more than a few nights (cept for in Seattle). The room was nice though. I had a TV (receiving about 3 or 4 Ghanaian stations that I cannot understand due to a mix of accents and poor sound quality), an air conditioner that does not seem to work, a bathroom (an actual plus), and a small balcony, which really is pretty cool. Though I think I would still rather live in a hovel for half the price. But then again, my blanket is shiny and pink with a big heart and matching pillow. We’ll see what happens.
Thomas treated me to a beer in the courtyard of the guesthouse (which pretty big and relaxing with lots of trees) before I went to my room to catch some rest, as I’d been up since before 4.
After a couple hours, I decided to take a walk before bed. As my guesthouse lies a couple km north of the city center, I didn’t make it all the way there. But I did get a few oranges from some women on the street. I found them much better in the south, although that is where they came from. It was mostly the fact that the drier climate had hardened the outside of the oranges, making them much easier to squeeze the juice into my mouth without puncturing them and squirting juice everywhere. They were gooder than anything, and I downed 4 of them as I walked back to my room. I could feel the air start to cool and it was a real blessing.