A Farewell to Arms

 

The work family. I miss them so.

Why is the USA so messed up? I’ve come back to Black men being dead in the streets, assaults in elevators and retaliatory assaults for those same Black men lying dead in the streets. At the same time, there are beheadings of American citizens at the hands of fundamentalist terrorists because of the political stance and interventional actions of the US government. Again, why is America so messed up? Why am I intrigued enough to view the leaked nudes of celebrities who apparently had no complicit behavior in their release? Why is this so sensationalized? When did TMZ become the official trusted source for our news? Why is it that Chicago had 16 murders and 72 shootings during the fourth of July weekend  (“Independence Weekend”)? Where have we lost ourselves as a country? Where has the moral aptitude gone and when was it replace by despondency, complacency and general apathy? We’d rather be entertained by the latest reality craze…”The Real Something of Something or Other”.  I remember my first introduction to “reality” television when ABC came out with the show “The Bachelor”, featuring 25 women lining up to get a chance to be with what I imagine was one of America’s most eligible bachelors. Since then, there have been numerous spinoffs or ideations on how to capture an audience so hungry for contrived reality.  I fondly recollect the days when reality television was the news and it accurately portrayed what has happening in my community.

 

Why am I here ranting you ask? Good question. This summer, for eleven weeks, I was fortunate enough to spend my time in a country that maintained a fine appreciation for reality in the particular forms or morality and civility. From the beginning of my stay, I noticed the incredible impact religion/spirituality has on the country’s residents. Every district I visited had a visible commonality- almost all taxis/buses had religious sayings on their back windows. These sayings were not limited to the Christian majorities’ beliefs, but also included Islam and Judaism. This was not some one-off where a religious zealot was publicizing his ideology, but a consciousness that exemplified existence. While in Ghana, I did hear of the Chicago shootings and decided to compare them with Ghana’s violent crime- particularly homicide. During a three week period of interest, I managed to find they had 1 murder in the news and the reporting was continuously about the efforts of the police to solve it. Wrap our head around that nugget for a second. The reporting was not only to provide awareness of a homicide, but successive follow-ups on efforts to find the perpetrator. That absolutely floored me, particularly being a NYC resident who reads about /views reports on substantial numbers of murders.
 

With respect to the highly sensationalized leaked celebrity nudes, I will say this….Ghana had some leaked nudes and when I looked on the site (yes I looked, like a true American), nearly all of the comments were critiquing the individuals for their initial acts of photography/filming. That is a stark contrast to the lustful commentary seen in comments sections for our own leaks. I mean, people are making money off of leaked content in the states, so I personally hold myself at fault for being incredulous at this difference. People have made bona-fide livings off the catapult of monetized sexual imagery. We have to look no further than one Ms. Kim Kardashian-West, whose celebrity was built off of gratuitous exposure of her assets. As a disclaimer, I am not solely limiting this issue to women, as men have a significant hand in this as well, albeit consumer or subject.

So, what is the significance of this post? In a few words…GHANA WAS AMAZING! There are a few moments in life where you can view the sum of occurrences as inflection points. I previously viewed my time in South Africa, a time spent experiencing culture, history and brilliant minds, as one of those life changers that provided me with a paradigm shift and now I have experienced another. The totality of the experience left me wanting more and needing to do more, not only when I returned home but for my duration as a global citizen. I cannot express myself in these limited words, as this would become an extremely long blog post, so I will attempt to relate my experience through visual imagery….ENJOY!

On the plane headed to Ghana

Roommate in Ghana. Also a U of M student.

Housemate who stayed up watching the NBA Finals at 2AM with me.

Hurt my arm falling off a motorcycle my 4th day out there. Still one of the best days I spent there.

Guys I stopped on the street on their way to their daily soccer match. Everyday at 4pm, they were at the field (on the pitch) religiously- rain or shine.

My guy from the Chinese-Ghanaian fusion restaurant around the corner from my residence. Cool guy who, when I told him I would put him on my American blog immediately agreed to the picture.

Movie night with the neighbors down the hall and from the church group.

Ruth. My coworker, mentor and friend.

Mr. Rahman, my unofficial guardian at the hostel/dormitory where I stayed. He made sure to call me when I arrived in the States to ensure my safe return. He holds a place in my heart. Can never forget good people.

Period piece at Ghana Institute of Art. 

Saw this little guy playing ball outside the hostel. Couldn't resist taking a picture and then playing kickball with him.

 

On the way to church.

Korle-Bu Community Chapel. Mostly medical personnel/families and med students.

 

On the way to the beach. We had to take a boat there!

 

In the boat headed to Bojo Beach. This is one of the nicest beaches in Ghana as you can see, hopefully.

Father and newborn at the beach. I thought she was the cutest thing, so it was only right to capture the moment.

Beautiful family spending time at the beach. I must have taken 50 photos of them after having conversation with the matriarch on the far right and playing football (soccer) with the kids and some other folks,

 

People lining up for gasoline during a government imposed gasoline shortage. All those yellow containers are peoples' gas cans. This was the scene whenever a station announced they were releasing gasoline. Reminds me of NYC a couple summers back.
                                                                                                                               

Pics from the Kente weaving village. Top- Master weaver hard at work. Bottom- Unofficial Boss.

Elephant in the background you say?

The Ga festival in Accra. Celebration of the harvest. The gentleman in the middle is the Ga chief in this district.

 

Had the opportunity to meet up with the Ghana M-Trek. Go Ross!

Hundreds of feet up in the rain forest walking through the canopy.

This is cocoa in its natural form. This is one of Ghana's primary exports and it tastes wonderful in this natural state. MMMMM....cocoa!

Playing with crocodiles up close and personal in the crocodile sanctuary. 

 

At the entrance to the male slave quarters at Cape Coast Castle- home of the "Door of No Return". Take note of the plaque on the left commemorating President and First Lady Obama's visit.

 

Staring out over the Atlantic at the inception of the Middle Passage and the potential grave-site for many who were either thrown overboard or willingly jumped ship to avoid the horrors awaiting them.


THANK YOU WDI FOR THE OPPORTUNITY AND TO MY 2014 WDI FELLOW CLASS FOR SHARING YOUR EXPERIENCES.

 

Rain, rain, go away!

So, this week, I have seen the most sustained rainfall since arriving in Ghana. I am not speaking of deluge-worthy numbers, but it has been quite significant, raining every day, with deposits of a couple inches per occasion. I thoroughly enjoy the magnetism that is the thunderstorm: the crack of illuminating lightning complemented by victorious rolls of thunder is virtually unmatched in raw power and utter serenity. My mind feels most at ease amidst this beautiful chaos. I would liken it to Beethoven’s 5^th Symphony, with its masterful crescendos. As you can tell, I LOVE thunderstorms. However, my point in mentioning this thunderstorm has been the apparent lack of either one of these rapturous components. Their absence has been one of the sore spots of Ghanaian downpours.

The real issue with downpours here though, a more inclusive problem, is the public health risk that the downpours present. The issue manifests itself in the guise of a rudimentary sewage system comprised of roadside gutters. What‘s interesting is that Accra is comprised of a mixture of inhabitants coexisting in neighborhoods that are one part developed, one part slum (think Brazilian favelas), and one part transitioning. Because of the oft dominant slum areas, the gutters serve as the primary end disposal mechanism for household wastes, including, but not limited to regular wastewater, rubbish and sewage. One can imagine what noxious emanations crawl out and waft into the air, assaulting the nostrils of the passerbys. The stench is particularly unbearable on the sunniest days as the mixture is allowed to bake in the Ghanaian heat. However, my concern is the rainy days when the gutters are filled beyond capacity and overflow onto the streets and adjoining walkways. With this happening, the ability to successfully navigate the terrain is hampered and pedestrians must cross through it, sometimes only outfitted with sandals. This is where my public health senses kick in, channeling my inner Spider Man upon realizing there is the opportunity for cholera to appear. It’s probably of note that there is a significant cholera incidence at this time, interestingly only being outshone by the Ebola outbreak. 

Gutter outside the office on a regular day.

Being a resident for the last couple months, this has actually given me a long term interest in being able to aid in the restructuring of the sewage system at some point later down the road. I have a friend out here who blindly stepped in one of these gutters one evening and his immediate reaction to the situation was that he, "wanted to cut his leg off," because he didn't know what combination of elements was inside that wastewater. Now, imagine having to walk through this mess at the height of rainy season. Again, Spidey senses are tingling at the thought. This issue is one that needs addressing, but the government, in all of its incompetence, has allowed it to take a backseat to a myriad of other issues. These other issues are definitely important, but this may be just as significant as most. Hopefully, as the years progress and I can make a return journey to Ghana- with the best of intentions- the government would have instituted some level of infrastructural change  worthy of keeping our legs.

Until next time!

In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle....

My residence in Korle-Bu at the University of Ghana Teaching Hospital.

WARNING- This post may read like a journal entry, so beware the inner workings of a mad man in Ghana. That being said, EnJOY!

Growth- It’s all the rage! Everyone is doing it….consciously or subconsciously, it’s happening. Which side am I on? Which side are you on? I know that my inner-self has been experiencing this internalized process since birth because I have always understood this world intuitively, but being here in Ghana, I have witnessed a change externally. My thoughts have shifted from a professed selfish focus to a more sublime tethering to humanity. It’s weird actively engaging with one’s ethos, finding solace in life’s simplicity. I have tacitly engaged my mature self and sought permission to abscond with values only imagined by my precursor. Sproxil (my workplace) wasn't meant to authenticate one’s being, but somehow, this anti-counterfeiting endeavor has reflexively validated one of its arteries. (I throw in the medical reference in honor of my current accommodations in Korle Bu Teaching Hospital). The sweet irony is that in my youth, including undergraduate tenure, my singular aim was to become a doctor. I mean, who didn't watch Heathcliff Huxtable engage pregnant women with the charm of a toothless barracuda and day to him/herself, “that’s what I want to do!” Regrettably, I won’t be Kedon Wilson, M.D., but I can still embody the spirit of the Huxtables. Looking back on life, I guess that is what I really wanted.

Little girl and her brother asking for money in the midst of a traffic jam. Poor in dollars but rich in spirit.Here’s to growing up and celebrating life….

P.S- I wrote this blog entry before I went out for an evening at one of Osu’s local hotspots- Shisha Lounge. I sometimes have these random musings that I feel the need to capture. Because this is a travel/educational blog, I am going to close this by saying, when in Osu, definitely visit Shisha Lounge. 

Oh, and by the way, this past 4h of July weekend I took a trip on to the northern region of Ghana (where all the good stuff is, lol). This was a seriously interesting trip that was to see a group of us Michigan students visit Kumasi, center of the Ashanti peoples and culture, a Kente weaving village, and Mole National Park, one of Ghana’s pristine pleasures . Kumasi is the home of the Ashanti king, whose palace is located in the center of a bustling quasi-city atmosphere. With the trip being planned, there were expectations of seeing the king in full regalia, fully adorned with what happens to be pounds of gold. On top of that, we were primed to experience a real African safari with lions, tigers and bears (oh, my)! Well, actually, there are no bears in Africa, that I know of, but we were excited to see some of the local wildlife, and we did in fact get to see some elephants, antelope (kop), warthogs and baboons. One baboon was actually daring enough to venture towards our open van while we were standing outside (pre-safari) and attempt to steal our belongings, while carrying her baby on her underside. Being a group of Americans, we were all naturally startled, but a quick thinking, and acting, worker at the lodge chased her off with a broom- talk about getting up close and personal with nature. Speaking of getting up close, our safari tour guide allowed us to come down off the safari jeep and take some pictures near three feeding elephants, two of which were male bulls. Check the pics below....

Elephants galore! Inner thoughts- "Please don't run me over Mr. Elephant"

Aside from the safari, we visited a small village on the way to check out a monkey sanctuary, where we could feed the monkeys and engage the local culture. Being the softy that I am, I naturally gravitate towards the kids, so we had some fun learning some local dances and just having an all around good time. I think they had as much fun with us as we did with them.....

Until next time, challe (local word for brother/sister informally)!

Akwaaba! Welcome to Ghana.

Akwaaba, the Tri word for welcome is the first thing you see as you walk through the halls of the Kotoka Airport. I felt that sense of welcome from my time on the crowded Lufthansa jet leaving Frankfurt on  route to Accra. Positioned in one of the middle-aisle seats on this tri-sectioned plane, I was amid a group of missionaries (Ghanaian men ranging from early twenties to mid fifties) on their way back home. Being the tomato speck in a flying sardine can full of Ghanaians, my withdrawal inside a nutshell of music and in-flight movies would have been naturally acceptable, and it was for a while, but it soon became a mundane existence. That's when I broke out my new camera and started fiddling around with it, since I have never actually owned a camera that didn't require film. Seeing my childlike amusement, aided by a few glasses of wine (I hate flying- the whole heights thing), the guy next to me offered to capture a shot of me, indicating he enjoyed photography himself. Normally, I would have put it off, but hey, I was heading to Ghana. A few minutes later and a couple pics taken and the whole row of us were chatting about the U.S, Ghana, religion, politics, education and a host of other topics. This conversation led to an offer to drop me off at my Ghanaian residence- an offer that I was glad to accept since I had no clue if my ride would be waiting for me at arrivals, but one that was left unused since my ride did in fact show up (with a sign to boot). Since they were so approachable, we exchanged information and I plan on attending church or at least hanging out with them at some point.

That warm welcome speaks volumes of the culture representative of the Ghanaian people. Since I have been here, it is this facet that has allowed me to immerse myself in this experience. As a New Yorker, I am a natural skeptic, not wholly trusting strangers- much less in a strange land. However, it is because of the strangers that I encounter on a daily basis why I can sit here and write this blog entry with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that I will probably encounter a stranger today who will have a profound impact on my journey here. This does not entirely remove the protective exterior forged by many years of Bronx living, as Ghana is a country that boasts and embraces their substantial market economy bolstered by bargaining power. I have been at liberty to exercise what cut-throat elements I have acquired over my twenty-something years of life through spectacular bouts of negotiations that would make any Chinatown shop owner cringe and subsequently beam with pride.

I have a lot to discuss in my upcoming reflections on Ghanaian life and all the various interactions I have had, but I will leave this post with these thousand words: