Viva Pierre!

Karibu...have we met?

2012-01-17T02:30:00.000-08:00

After four weeks, we are feeling much more settled into our new home and routines. There is so much to be thankful for. Coy is already quite busy at work but communication and vision are much clearer now that he is not an ocean away from the office and reliant on Skype. Townes had some health issues in our first week (namely, giarrdia and 2nd degree burns on his hand from our hip-level stove) but we are now all doing well and adjusting to the heat. Our house has come with a short list of things that need to be fixed but it is comfortable and ideally located for walking places with the boys. And our mangoes and papayas have just begun to ripen!

It has been wonderful to catch up with friends that we made from our time here a year ago. I have had a few awkward moments of staring and smiling at someone who is obviously trying to remember my name as well. I would have chalked this up to shared memory gaps if I had not overheard two of the ladies we knew quite well saying to one another, "Wait, was that Baba Townes? No.." I then pressed Anna and Christina to explain why they hadn't known it was Coy who had just greeted them and they confessed that it was hard to recognize us because we had grown so fat in America! Now I will admit that I consumed more ice cream and Chik-Fil-A than a gal should be allowed to under the guise of pregnancy cravings but I didn't think that I had been rendered unrecognizable! Later Coy told me that he has read that Africans rely on facial features like cheekbones and jawlines as their primary means of distinguishing/recognizing people.

(That being explained, a highlight in my first days here was walking down the dirt road near our home and hearing someone exclaim, 'Mama Townes!!' and finding Kembwa running over to meet Gus who was dozing in the B'Jorn.)

As I type this, the electricity has just blinked out so I won't be able to go online and post this until the morning. But that reminds me that we have also been quite fortunate to have had consistant water and electricity since we arrived- we'll see what 2012 has in store for teaching us about how not to take things for granted. I hope that the rhythm of writing on the blog will return to us. There are stories to share and we enjoy the thought that, by writing, we are keeping in touch with our beloved friends and family. We hope that your new year is off to a good start. Think of us and our chubby cheeks next time you flick on the lights!

Merry Merry from Moshi

2011-12-29T00:22:00.000-08:00

Let's see if this attempt to get the ol' blog back into action will be more successful. It has been pretty busy since our last posting and I know we're overdue with a birth announcement. So with a promise to flashback to some highlights from 2011 over the next few weeks let me just greet you properly from Tanzania, a place where proper greetings are extremely important. We arrived early on Monday the 19th after enjoying several days in Zurich with beloved friends. Our house and its previous renter were waiting for us so it really only took a day to unpack and settle in a bit. Jet lag, however, took longer. You'd think we would be experts by now but the boys' different approaches to the two 8 hour flights (Gus slept from take-off to landing both times and Townes hardly slept on either....hmm, I need to file that away with other indicators that Townes has Coy's personality and Gus has mine) turned us all upside down. Also the hot weather seemed to overwhelm Gus a bit and he just slept for the first three days in Moshi. Though we're back to normal now, we had some interesting middle-of-the-night family hangout time!

Christmas here was lots of fun. We went to a candlelight service at St Margaret's Church on Christmas Eve where we were so happy to see friends. (The church was beautiful too- rather than holding candles, simple lanterns were hung from ropes that were crisscrossed across the room. The cozy dim light made it difficult to read the carols but many people just pulled out small flashlights...part of the fun of living in a place where most mom's carry headlamps in their purses!) On Christmas morning, we decorated the felt Christmas tree before Townes opened a few presents. Then we headed to Lake Chagga for the afternoon. Townes was really proud of how well he was able to hike up and down the steep trails. We were invited to our friends' home in Marangu for Christmas dinner. Sharing a delicious meal while catching up and watching our children play together was more than I had even hoped for when I had worried that Christmas away from home would be too sad. As much as we have missed family in Memphis and Mobile, we're feeling at home in Moshi already.

And for those of you who have just checked in to finally see some pictures of the sweetest, calmest Buckley baby we know, here's Gus:

Hmm, it seems as though I packed the wrong USB cord for our camera so photos from TZ will be added to our entries once we have our first visitor at the end of January. Oops!

Sometimes I wonder what Townes is thinking

2011-10-21T12:12:00.000-07:00

So, we're fine. How are you?

2011-09-30T20:10:00.001-07:00

Six or seven months can really sneak past quickly. It started as a reasonable break from the blog as we wrapped up our time in Tanzania. We had really good excuses then- our camera had been stolen, electricity was out 4+ days a week, and we had another trans-continental move to prepare for. When we arrived back in the States, it was hard to pick up writing because there were so many unanswered questions about our next plans. And then once things settled a bit, I suppose blogging just wasn’t high on the to-do list.

Where to begin? Here’s some photos that document a few of the changes since we last posted:

We bought a house

Townes's hair now reaches his shoulders

We have accepted a job with Equity for Africa and will be moving back to Tanzania in the next couple of months

And BB2 is on the way...soon

As in, will arrive in less than 3 weeks.

And that's pretty much the highlights from the past half a year. We'll try to fill in some details and get back into the Viva Pierre rhythm. Drop us a line if you ever make it back to this site.

2011-09-29T13:55:00.001-07:00

Meru Photos

2011-02-04T20:12:00.000-08:00

At the start of our trip, our taxi to the park gates was hastily arranged on the bus from Moshi, so we weren't terribly surprised when he didn't show. Instead, we opted for motorbikes into the park.

That is David on the motorbike. An enthusiastic mountaineer, David has climbed over 15 mountains over 4000m. Being German, he had plenty of very pragmatic advice about mountain climbing and life in general. Hiking a big mountain certainly accelerates the rate of familiarity, and David was a great guy to get to know.

David (who also supplied the majority of these photos) wanted to travel light. Initially, he insisted that we carry only chocolate (Ritter Sport) and nuts for the 3-day hike. As you might expect, I heartily vetoed this idea. Regardless, we didn't have a camp stove, so the rangers shared some of their hot Ugale and vegetables with us. We were happy to share.

A view from Rhino point showing Meru's peak and the ash cone formed in the old crater.

Me and my companions on the eve of the summit. We met two other Germans, Heiko and Jens, at the base who shared our ranger. Initially, the Germans were quite upset to share a ranger, given that we had theoretically purchased our own ranger for the ascent. In the end, it turned out to be a good group of guys. We played several rounds of Danish Bastard in the hut, which the guys mostly loved - especially when they started winning.

The summit of Meru, "Socialist Peak".

Sunrise at the summit with Kilimanjaro on the horizon.

Down.

Identity Crisis

2011-02-04T02:39:00.000-08:00

I think all moms would agree that becoming a mother involves a major shift in the way you perceive yourself. All prior warm and fuzzy notions of wanting to put other people’s needs before your own seem laughable the moment you realize an infant’s dependency on you. Your career, your social life, and your schedule are all thrown for a loop by a little creature who has no interest in knowing about your previous experiences or interests. During 2am feedings, you often find yourself thinking, “Whoa, who have I become?”

Tanzanians answer that question by giving you a new name. With the exception of most muzungus (that’s white people in Swahili), I am known as ‘Mama Townes.’ I don’t just mean that I’m called that affectionately, I truly don’t think that any of the Tanzanians that we know would recognize the name Kacey at all. When I call them on the phone I say, “Jambo, this is Mama Townes calling.” At times, it feels crazy to have so much identity wrapped up in another person but there’s something about my new name that acknowledges the identity theft and embraces it with a smile.

(Townes calls this the 'old, tired swing' because he's mixed it in his mind with the old, tired engine from The Little Engine that Could.)

It's good to be missed

2011-01-21T02:30:00.000-08:00

Just finished Mt. Meru

2011-01-20T23:11:00.000-08:00

I've just returned from a 3-day hike to the summit of Mt. Meru (14,980 ft / 4,566m).

Yesterday, my German companion and I hiked for 15 hours. I think my big toenail is going to fall off.

More photos to come...

(Thanks to David, my fellow hiker, for the photo above)

Hash Day - or a Series of Unnecessary Asides

2011-01-18T05:59:00.000-08:00

Hashing is a popular pastime in Moshi. At a Hash, one or more "Hares" lay a trail, which is then followed by the remainder of the group, called the "Hounds". The trail can include false trails, short cuts, dead ends, and splits, etc. to make it a bit tricky.

A hash is held by the local chapter in Moshi every two weeks. I first heard of Hashes during my University Studies Class at Ole Miss, but never actually joined a Hash until last week. Knowledge of the Hash was about the only useful bit of information I took away from the curiously-required University Studies course my freshman year, which was mostly made up of esoteric trivia such as the difference between a "college" and a "university", why the Lyceum's architects chose ionic over doric for their columns, etc. etc. Regardless of how useless the class was, I actually drove through the night from an illicit James Taylor concert in Birmingham to make sure that I didn't miss the 8am start for this class. As for why the trip to Birmingham was "illicit", well that is another tale for another day...

As for the Hash, there were plenty of parents with their kids, some of whom were backpacked, so we figured it had to be an afternoon of good family fun.

Not this one.

This one involved climbing through a river - over and back 4 times - and scrambling down, and then up from the inside of a valley with Townes on my back - screaming - for about an hour. Luckily, we had a world record holder to assist us through the rough bits. His name is Simon. As you can imagine, Simon is incredibly fit. He is a Tanzanian who first learned to run when he enlisted in the Police Academy in Tanzania, which strangely enough, is known to be a forming ground for some of East Africa's great runners. If his status as a world record holder doesn't provide a sufficient idea of his level of fitness, Simon has run up Kilimanjaro in 6 hours assisted, which means that people help him with food and water, and 9 hours unassisted. Unassisted is even more impressive than the name implies because it requires one to forage for water en route, since it is too heavy to pack the required amounts up the mountain.

Did I mention that Kilimanjaro is the name of the local purified water brand? "N'taka kununua Mage" is Kiswahili for "I would like to buy water". The lady at the pharmacy taught me that.

When it comes to general level of fitness, I have to give credit to Tony Horton and his P90X series. He's really helped my general level of fitness over the past 3 months. Especially the Yoga. I had always been someone who was mildly interested in Yoga, but never particularly interested to take the time. Sure I had seen photos of poses like "Tree" and "Corpse" and "Happy Baby" and laughed at them. Who hasn't? But when you add them to a 90 minute work out they start to make sense. All I can say is that there are things I can do at 33 that I couldn't do at 21 and it's not because I can do 12 push-ups: It's because of Yoga.

And as a point of reference, it takes 3-5 days for an average hiker to acclimatize and ascend Kilimajaro.

So, back to the Hash: at the end of the trip, I must admit that the cold beer never tasted so good, and Townes was happy at the end to play with the dogs, so we couldn't really complain.

As for beer, it's quite tasty here and, I must admit, it has been refreshing to see Tusker on the menu again. It reminds me of the days with Andy, sipping Tusker and thinking of our numerous odd encounters in Kenya. Plus, likely the most elaborate spreadsheet ever created for measuring poinsettia value...

Any way, as for Townes and hashing. I think he'll stay home for the next one, and likely will not be hashing again until some odd professor recommends it to him....

Toward Machame

2011-01-16T23:21:00.000-08:00

Last week, we went with a friend of ours, Peter Ray Mwasa, to visit Machame. Machame is one of the villages heading up the mountain toward Kilimanjaro. Due to the altitude and tree cover, it's a pleasant place to spend time when it's too hot in Moshi. Plus, Peter's friend kept a small lodge featuring local food, Mbege (the local drink) and a tour of the nearby waterfall, so we had stuff to do. When we arrived, we were led into a small gazebo covered in banana leaves where the feeding and drinking would begin.

Peter knew we were interested in local stories and legends, so he asked if someone was available who knew the Chaga lore. Like the Massai, the Chaga are a fairly large tribe in the Kilimanjaro area. They have adopted a lot of modern ways, such as Western clothing, going to Christian churches, etc., so we were interested to learn more about their pre-colonial lifestyles.

Soon after the initial drink of tea and soup (banana gravy soup is the best way it can be described - Townes had 3 bowls...), the storyteller arrived. He was 89 years old and claimed to be the great grandson of the famous Chaga chief. We knew for certain that he was old. But if we needed more proof he showed us his identity card, yep, born in 1912. Additional proof, having his grandson literally yell the questions in his ear, and to top it off he spoke such an outmoded version of the Chaga dialect that our host could only understand 50% of what he said.

Not to miss an opportunity for so much Chaga wisdom, we asked for tales of how Townes could become a good man in the Chaga tradition.

The answer, from what I understood, was to drop him in the jungle for 7 days without food and if he makes it back, he's a man. Certainly, there are days when this method sounds attractive, but we may wait a year or two.

The rest of the day involved hiking, watching traditional methods of roasting, pounding and drinking coffee (no filter, lots of sugar and teeth covered in grains), as well as a taste of Mbege the local brew served in a calabash mug the size of which would be the envy of any beer-loving German...

Overall, it was a fantastic day. The food and company were great - and heck, Mbege was much better than I had expected. Thanks to Peter for a great outing!

Pounding the coffee before roasting:

Townes and his favorite waterfall activity, throwing stones:

The storyteller and one of his translators:

Mbege, the local brew

Our host preparing the coffee beans,

Things you see on the street

2011-01-11T21:12:00.001-08:00

There is a cottage industry of tool sharpeners who hone metal with modified bicycles. The guys attach a circular whetstone to the bicycle gears and spin. There will often be several of these machines in a row; and with the cyclers manically peddling without movement, bent backs with sweaty brows, and hot orange sparks flying into the street, the scene is reminiscent of Dante's Inferno.

Or at least a really bad spin class.

Perfectly balanced?

2011-01-08T04:45:00.000-08:00

(Thanks to Peter Ray Mwasa for the photo. He's a local artist. You can see his work here.

Prosper

2011-01-06T04:32:00.000-08:00

This is Townes's friend, Prosper. He hasn't had many occasions to play with him, but Townes made the most of a Prosper marathon on Christmas day. At the first meeting, Townes was a bit suspicious - who was this kid who wanted to play with my cars? There was a bit of hoarding, a bit of foot stomping, followed by some throwing, but Prosper handled him deftly - in hiding behind the sofa, then quietly grabbing a car and sneaking around the other side, Prosper swiftly overwhelmed Townes's defense and the game was on.

It turned out to be a great day. Townes completely wore himself out with running and (happily) screaming, while Mom and Dad enjoyed some great Tanzanian cooking.

Now the question is: Propser, when are you coming over to our house?

Flashback: My Day as a Tro Tro Driver

2011-01-04T22:32:00.000-08:00

I suppose as we get closer to the end of the sabbatical, we are justified in posting a few flashbacks about our time in Africa. One of the more memorable moments in our last days in Ghana was taking the helm of Richie and Maggie's school tro tro. Richie doesn't have a driver's license, so I took the helm to test the tro tro's road worthiness before letting the school kids pile into the van.

For a 20-year old diesel VW van, it was actually in pretty good shape. It had the original diesel engine, a fairly fresh paint job and only a slightly shaky transmission. Compared to a lot of tro-tro's I've been in (see post, "Tro Tro Transport"), it was top notch.

Richie and I crawled in, cranked her up, and rocketed through Ankaase and Ejuretia, up and around curves at not quite breakneck speed, picking up strangers and wishing that we could start a transportation business - being an obruni driver was a bit like being an extraterrestrial and the notoriety would certainly have given us a competitive advantage. Richie even had me driving back into the villages, which involved taking this massive, two-wheel drive van through offroad experiences suitable only for only the most rugged backwoods 4WD vehicle.

Yes, trees were backed into.

And yes, at one point eight villagers were coaxing me out of a tight spot.

But man, it was awesome.

PS - Thanks to Rachel Kesselman, Cy Johnson and FedEx for the quick inter-continental coordination to get the international driver's license (pictured above) in our hands. Africa wouldn't have been the same without it!

Maasai

2011-01-03T03:00:00.000-08:00

As part of our Christmas break, we headed to the Ol Masera tented camp near the Ngorogorno crater. When we arrived, the Slovakian proprietress, Barbara, was in Arusha, so the first couple of days were spent with the Maasai who staffed the camp. They didn't speak much English, so there was only a bit of small talk and a lot of misunderstanding. Despite the lack of verbal communication, we got a strong impression of our hosts' kind temperament, as well as their culture.

When Barbara arrived the next day, we learned more about the Maasai. Barbara has been in Tanzania for a little over 40 years, speaks fluent Swahili and understands the people and surrounding area quite well. Barbara told us of the Maasai's relative disinterest in the modern - and mostly Western - culture that is changing Tanzania. Many Maasai have stuck to their traditional occupation as cattle herders, still use tribal markings, such as facial scarring and decorative stretching of the ear lobes, and live fairly simply in round, thatched huts in the areas around northern Tanzania and southern Kenya.

So what are their observations of us? I'm sure they have many, but a particularly interesting one relates to clothing. The Maasai wear sweeping shawls that adapt well to the changes of temperature in this region, and are critical of Westerners and our tight clothes, which they refer to in their Maasai tongue as "fart smotherers".

I like my farts smothered, and the Maasai we met certainly seemed to appreciate his mobile phone.

I suppose life is full of compromises.

The landscape around Ol Masera, taken from our tent:

A 2-dimensional Christmas

2010-12-31T23:26:00.000-08:00

Inspired by some Mennonite family blog, Kacey created a lovely Christmas tree made of wrapping paper. We spent Christmas morning placing some hand-made ornaments sourced from Townes's obsessions - trains, drums, the Gingerbread man, and a few others. It was a good morning, but unique in its inward focus. We hope that all the families out there appreciated the big gatherings, we certainly missed ours.

Luckily, my colleague from EFTA, Israel, invited us to his house for Christmas dinner. Townes had a blast running around the house with his grandson, Prosper, hiding his cars from the other kids, and meeting the turkeys, ducks and chickens that lived behind the house. The meal was a combination of Tanzanian specialities - such as spiced rice dish called, Pilau - as well as fried chicken. Thanks Israel and Rose for the great home cooking!

Townes having a blast with the Christmas ornaments:

TukTuk Style

2010-12-31T23:20:00.000-08:00

There is a lone TukTuk in Moshi that serves as a relatively inexpensive means of transport. The term "TukTuk" comes from the sound of the 4-cylinder engine that powers them.

Dar es Salaam is flooded with TukTuks, but perhaps due to the longer travel times in Moshi, there are relatively less common. It's a nice way to go, the only problem is being passed by 18 wheelers at 3x's the speed. Our guy was almost blown off the road.

Your contributions to Goodwill...

2010-12-20T06:38:00.000-08:00

...may have traveled further than you think. In fact, Townes could be wearing some of them right now! This morning an Aussie expat introduced me to the big market with stall after stall of clothes and shoes. Townes has been growing out of his pants at a rapid rate so this market was exactly what I needed.

Mbili!

2010-12-18T05:47:00.001-08:00

Yesterday Townes turned Mbili (that's two in Swahili). I know that I’m meant to say how quickly time has flown and that I can’t believe he’s already a toddler but the truth is that when I consider how much he has grown and changed since we met him on that snowy night in Zurich, it’s harder to believe that only two years have passed.
With scraped knees and a skater’s hairdo, Townes is no longer a baby. He has a knock-out memory (that I’m happy he picked up from his papa). He often sings himself to sleep with Baa Baa Black Sheep in its entirety or just chatting away with his duck. He loves his collection of matchbox cars which is a good thing considering how little space we made in our suitcases for toys. He can identify numbers 0 to 10 but a typical attempt to count his fingers on one hand can range from 3 to 8. He loves books and can fill in the blanks when we leave out words...this is also probably connected to the fact that we only brought about 8 books with us and have read them hundreds of times. He can greet and thank people in Swahili now which delights the folks we meet around Moshi. But for some reason the only question he knows how to answer is ‘How are you?’. If asked about his name, he will always reply ‘I’m fine.’ He loves running laps around the house and playing peek from behind the trees. This week he has mastered jumping with both feet leaving the ground but we’ll be in big trouble when he figures out that he is probably capable of climbing out of the pack’n’play he sleeps in every night! He has discovered that the best place to throw a tantrum is when in the backpack because there’s virtually nothing that can be done but to let him thrash about while enduring everyone’s stares. Since the introduction of time-outs a few weeks ago, Townes has spent his fair share of minutes behind a closed door weighing the cost of isolation against the fun of screaming or hitting. I suppose Townes let us know by crying for four months straight when he was born that he won’t ever be an easy kid to raise but he sure has brought us a lot of joy. Happy birthday, boy-o.

Tanzanian I Do's

2010-12-16T01:43:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, Coy's colleague, Israel, invited us to a friend's wedding. It was a lively affair that, for us, started with photos and music in the roundabout in Moshi. The musicians played drums and horns; it felt a bit like a New Orleans jazz-up.

Perhaps the most unique aspect of the wedding was when the featured guest - a whole, fried goat festooned with sliced hard-boiled eggs - was literally danced out to the wedding party. The flopping of his head was a bit unnerving, but overall, the goat was a pretty good dancer.

And yes, he tasted delicious.

Tunnels

2010-12-13T21:29:00.000-08:00

Townes has a fascination with tunnels these days - even makeshift ones. His memory is interesting in its selectivity: when he thinks about tunnels now he remembers driving through the tunnels to the Zurich airport in Jake's car. He says "tunnel...Jake car...Nancy, Rachel, Julia house".

Sadly, there aren't too many tunnels in Tanzania, but the tablecloth at a small cafe in town worked just fine.

The road to Marengu

2010-12-09T00:03:00.001-08:00

Last weekend, we borrowed a Rav 4 from a Tanzanian lady named Flo to drive to Marengu, a small town north of Moshi. The first couple of weeks had been quite busy with work and getting settled, so we were both quite excited to get out of town and see the countryside around Kilimanjaro. Some friends had recommended that we get to know a couple from Atlanta working in Dar es Salaam, so we had orchestrated to meet them at a small hotel about an hour outside of town. The stage was set for a great weekend.

As we were leaving Moshi, blazing through the savannah, we felt the freedom that only the start of a good road trip can create. We scanned the FM radio band, which interestingly only ranges from 73.5 to 82.5MhZ, and found nothing, so we contented ourselves with the wind as it blew in the open windows.

Then the hood on the Rav 4 flew up at about 50 mph.

We were blinded, and quickly ducked to look under the small space under the hood to navigate to safely. Once on the side of the road, we closed the hood and inspected the damage. Not too much, but the hood wouldn't close. We looked around us - nothing and no one to help. We decided to drive up the road a bit to see what we could find.

Soon, we ran across a bar full of off-duty dala dala drivers (dala dala's are the Tanzanian equivalents of tro-tro drivers in Ghana). We pulled into the bar and showed them the problem. In a flash, we had 8 dala dala captains come to our aid. They pushed, prodded, lifted, tugged, pried and shimmied, but accomplished little other than further damaging the hood of the car. The lid of the car would not shut firmly enough.

After about 15 minutes of muscling the hood, we conceded that the hood wouldn't close and another guy brought some tether to tie it down. This seemed to work.

We all felt quite good about ourselves. I paid the dala dala captains 5,000 shillings (about 4 dollars) which resulted in a round of cheers and handshakes, then a group photo.

Christmas Polka

2010-11-29T21:07:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in Precision Air's mustard-yellow offices in Moshi to catch a shuttle bus for my flight to Dar es Salaam. The walls are covered with travel posters featuring mountain gorillas, elephants and Zanzibar, while a photo of the president Ndugu Jakaya Mrisho Kikwete smiles from the second floor. A stirring rendition of "Christmas Polka" by Jim Reeves is playing out of what looks to be an old fax machine.

There's something strangely comforting about it.

Shanty Town (Won't You Take Me to)

2010-11-28T23:37:00.000-08:00

(Source: http://www.travelblog.org/Photos/1187623)

Our new address - at least for the moment - is Shanty Town, Tanzania. Shanty Town is right outside of Moshi, and is quite lovely. We found the place through a German couple, who introduced us to an English family with some extra room in their guest house. It was nice to get out of the Umoja hostel, which was perfectly fine, but a bit of a tight fit with Townes. In the evenings, there wasn't much to do around the hostel, so we were left being really quiet in the room while Townes slept in the adjacent room blocked only by some really thin walls.

Despite being a nice place to live, Shanty Town feels a bit removed from the city - especially without a car. Most of our neighbors have large Land Rovers that take them to and from work. I have been reliant on their guest bike (where the first outing was greeted by a flat tire and lots of walking) and a taxi driver called Goodluck.

Given the distance from Moshi, we're not yet sure if we will stay in Shanty Town. Regardless, it has been a nice place to be for a spell and we've met some really nice people. The German couple who introduced us to Shanty Town, named Merenka and Heiko, have been great to get to know. They have a young daughter named Yael, who Townes really enjoys talking about.

So far, no giant scorpions in Shanty Town, but we were greeted by the cockerels (roosters) on our first morning at 3.30am. Townes was wide awake and responded with "Chickens...PUSH chickens....". He now realizes that pushing is bad and wanted to harm those who had initiated the 3.30 wake-up call. Hard to believe that we were longing for the days of the simple radio man at 5...

(We hope to upload some of our own photos soon. In the meantime, thanks to the Richardsons on TravelBlog for this photo!)

The mountain was out this morning

2010-11-24T21:58:00.000-08:00

I remember the first time I heard the phrase, "The mountains are out this morning." It was on a trip to work with Andy Block on the 2 tram as we crossed over the Limmat in Zurich. It was an unusually clear day, and we had a fantastic view of the Alps.

The concept of mountains being "out" was a bit novel for me. Coming from the coastal lowlands of Mobile, AL, the only opportunity to comment on the visibility of landscape was when I would wipe the fog from my glasses on a humid summer morning.

It is a bright and warm summer day here in Tanzania and the most dominant feature of the surrounding landscape was out this morning, Kilimanjaro. The landscape is only of one of the numerous contrasts of Tanzania to our experiences in West Africa. So far, Townes has been a bit confused about where he is - he keeps asking for Roxin, our security man in Ankaase - but is generally pleased to be in warm weather and around people who are excited to greet him.

We will be moving out of the Umoja Lutheran guest house this morning and into our rented apartment. Once we get settled, we start updating more regularly with photos and blog updates.

PS: Happy Thanksgiving to our friends in the US!

Intermission

2010-11-19T08:18:00.001-08:00

A few of the people who have crossed our path, cont...

2010-11-11T12:05:00.000-08:00

Harriet, a 4-year old at RCA
Harriet is one of those kids who has presence. She wasn't overly impressed with the obrunis at her school, but found a soft spot for Townes. Oftentimes, Townes would find himself lost in a group of students as they would press to get a closer look; this usually involved running their hands through his hair and occasionally a bit of pushing. When the crowd got to be too much, Harriet would step in and create some space. Afterwards, there was no need for acknowledgment or thanks; it was just something that needed doing.

Like I said, the kid has presence.

Clement
Coy met Clement ten years ago and we've kept a special relationship with his family since then. Clement is a quiet kid who is more comfortable just hanging out than talking. One of the only subjects that can elicit more than a single sentence response is music, specifically reggae! The picture shows him introducing Townes to some rasta tunes on a cd that he made for us.

Grace, Nursery 2 teacher at RCA
With an easy laugh and an inexhaustible supply of patience, Grace is the only person I know in the world who would be willing to teach 50 three and four year olds in one small room. The children love her and her use of songs and chants to teach. Though attention spans at that age are tiny, her class has learned so much in the first months of school. In addition to the alphabet, numbers and greetings in English, the kids have acquired Grace's enthusiasm. They cheer when Townes and I enter the room and again when saying goodbye at the end of a lesson. I guarantee that you've never seen any group of kids who LOVE singing Wheels on the Bus as much as this class! I admire Grace for her energy and sweet nature.

The Chicken

This is one of the domesticated fowl that lives around the school. He enjoys eating dropped bits of rice, re-establishment of the pecking order and sneaking into the kitchen. Occasionally, the cleaning of plumage is interrupted by a game of chase.

Last Day of School

2010-11-09T01:45:00.000-08:00

Extra sing-alongs were the order of the day

A few of the people who have crossed our path, cont.

2010-11-08T05:26:00.000-08:00

Julie, the Librarian

Julie fits all the nicest stereotypes that you may have of a librarian- kind, quiet, wise, and able to silence a table of teenagers with just a glance. The Reading Town Library was the creation of our friend, Anne Gongwer, who believes that the library has the potential to change lives. The library was opened two years ago and is a remarkable building with a very good collection of books. Students from the nearby schools spend hours there and Julie has high hopes of teachers seeing it as a valuable resource. Julie would love to see more people in town bringing their children or just coming to read but I think that this will come with time. Julie has the patience and presence to make it happen.

Leticia, KG1 Teacher at Royal Christian Academy

A first-time teacher who has just finished her studies, Leticia is one of the star teachers at Royal Christian Academy. Her class is learning by leaps and bounds and they adore their teacher. She is firm but loving and can teach while holding a stray kid who wanders in from the nursery class. Considering the fact that RCA has no textbooks and that the classes share slates and chalk, Leticia has been teaching most things through recitation, songs, and enthusiasm. Of all the classes, I look forward to teaching in KG1 the most.

Ema

Ema works at the house part-time. For the 10 years I have known him, Ema has been one of the kindest and most peaceful people I have ever met. He can also mow a field of high grass with a machete in his left hand. Ema has a soft spot for children and it's been great seeing him get to know Townes; they really hit it off - particularly when there were bubbles involved.

The Vegetable Lady at Ankaase Market

We had weekly encounters with this lady at the market in Ankaase, but sadly we never learned her name. Richie and Maggie simply referred to her as the Vegetable Lady. The Vegetable Lady gave us a tough time at first as we stumbled in Twi to buy our vegetables, but over the months she warmed to us and became a welcome sight when we needed to buy bananas, carrots or onions. When I stopped to say farewell and take this picture, I bought a bag of carrots even though we had a refrigerator drawer full - she is quite the salesman.

Goat Convertible

2010-11-06T12:15:00.000-07:00

A few of the people who have crossed our path, cont...

2010-11-04T05:16:00.000-07:00

Adu, the Choir Master

Adu is a little over 5 feet tall, but makes up for his short stature with an extra dose of life and energy. Whenever you see him, Adu's face will quickly light up with a big smile and an enthusiastic greeting. While he's always lively, Adu is most in his element as the choir director of the Methodist Church. When he leads the choir, his enthusiasm is at full tilt as he dances, sings and plays the tambourine - always laughing and smiling.

I wish I could adequately convey the way music captures so much about Ankaase - one needs to experience it. It's not an easy life here, but music seems to be such a natural outpouring of their hope and joy. Tonight, we had a friend, Dorothy, for dinner who also sings with the choir. After the meal, we played a bit of Ghanaian music as we were talking and almost immediately she was out of her seat, dancing and encouraging Townes to the floor, who quickly responded with a little hip shake.

Where music in Ghana captures a bit about everyone, it especially tells the story of people like Adu and Dorothy. We're thankful to have shared it with them.

Adu and his wife:

Suleman, a JS student in Ankaase

I met Suleman on Tuesday as he was walking up the hill from school. I've only met him twice, but he is a good example of the kids we meet in Ankaase: always curious about Obrunis and very interested to greet you. As we walked, Suleman and I spoke briefly about his school and his favorite teachers. My limited Twi didn't allow for much depth, but he seemed like a good kid.

Muhammed, or Mama

Mama is another one of the people I met when I was first in Ankaase. He works as part of the janitorial staff at the hospital. Mama is a soft-spoken and genuine man, who also tends the plantain farm behind our house. About once a month he will arrive on the weekend with a stalk of plantains twice as tall as Townes. We usually give about half of the plantains to our friends, and save the rest to pound for fuofuo or, when it ripens, to fry with RedRed.

When I asked to take his photo, Mama requested that we move inside of the hospital so that it could be taken next to the flowers.

A few of the people who have crossed our path

2010-11-04T05:00:00.000-07:00

This post begins a series of stories about people we have met during our time in Ankaase. Unfortunately, we can't cover all of the people here, but we wanted to share a few as we are leaving.

Roxin, or Asante.

Roxin is the security guard for the day shift. He arrives at the gate around 5:30 in the morning after the nightwatchman leaves. Roxin is generally a serious-minded guy - as it should be for a security guard, I suppose. He sits on the front bench listening to politics on the radio and watching the area around the house with a stern eye. As far as I can tell, there isn't much to be afraid of around our house, but if someone considered causing a little trouble, I'm fairly sure Roxin would make them think better of it.

The only people I have seen break his focus are his children, and Townes. They first made a connection when Townes learned Roxin's name. Townes would wake up, look out the window, and yell "Roxin, Roxin". Roxin would dutifully emerge, give a slight wave, then head back to his post. A friendship was born.

Now that Townes's vocabulary has expanded, you'll hear "Does Roxin fly? Nooo, Roxin doesn't fly" as well as "Bye Bye Roxin" as Townes heads off to school every morning and afternoon.

Thanks for watching out for us Roxin!

Esther, or "Me tamfo", trans. "My enemy"

When I first came to Ankaase 10 years ago, Esther was working at the house with the Doctor's family. We would hang out in the kitchen or in the backyard as I would do my laundry. She recently reminded me of one evening where I came to her house and helped to shuck corn.

Esther is warm with an infectious laugh and her wide network of friends never ceases to amaze me; as she was leading Kacey through Kejetia market, she would constantly greet all of her friends working in the stalls, each of whom she refers to as her "sistah". Considering that Kejetia is the largest open air market in West Africa, she has quite a few sisters!

She is also known as Me Tamfo, or My Enemy. When I was first learning Twi, I would confuse Me Damfo, My Friend, with Me Tamfo, My Enemy. After making the mistake several times, we eventually settled on calling each other "Me Tamfo".

Esther now works in Kumasi, so unfortunately we didn't get to see her much this trip. We'd occasionally catch her when she would come to tend her small cocoa farm in Ankaase. Tonight she came by to teach Kacey how to make groundnut soup - it was good and spicy!

Ralph

Ralph is from the Volta Region, but now lives in Ankaase. I first met him 10 years ago when he worked construction at the hospital. He now has his own shop in Ejuretia (about a 10 minute walk from Ankaase) where he welds and fabricates. Whenever you ask him how business is going, his response is "as usual, small small". Ralph's a friendly guy and always good for a quick chat on the way to the pre-school. We had tried to weld a chin-up bar behind the house - but I think the governor's pipe wasn't quite galvanized enough (?) - regardless, I decided not to push him too hard and it was never built!

Me oh my how the time does fly

2010-10-31T15:23:00.000-07:00

3 months - already gone. It's hard to believe, but we are making our preparations to head back to Accra on Friday. Ghana has treated us very well - we've seen Richie and Maggie's school mature into a well-functioning preschool, full of happy kids. We've had the chance to reconnect with some friends from 10 years ago, and make a few new ones along the way. Kacey is now a full-fledged Ghanaian chef, with a few new recipes to spice up the Buckley kitchen for years to come, not to mention Townes' tolerance for hot food.

School kids in Ghana have a great way of sharing praise. The teacher will ask the kids to clap for Townes, for instance, and so all the kids will perform a modified clap: [CLAP], [CLAP] FOOOOR TOWNES! The "for Townes" bit being reflected by the kids pushing their palms outward and sending the praise his way. It's a great way to share the love.

For those who have kept up with us in the blog for these last few months, we appreciate your continued interest and look forward to sharing more adventures from Tanzania!

But for now, we'd like to say,

[CLAP], [CLAP] FOOOR GHANA!

Happy Birthday to Me

2010-10-30T12:56:00.000-07:00

Yes, my very own ball - safe enough so that even Jesus could play with it.

Jealous?

What happens when I let a kid borrow my camera

2010-10-26T02:48:00.000-07:00

These were taken at the beach several weeks ago. A kid asked if he could borrow my camera - here are 5 of the 150 pictures he took.

Candlelit Dinner for Four

2010-10-25T08:48:00.000-07:00

Rainy season has lasted longer than expected and we've had some impressive thunderstorms in the past week. Our electricity has held up pretty well and usually only blinks out for about a half an hour at a time. Except on Monday evening we lost it for about twenty hours.

Not much to do but pull out the candles and enjoy the ambience with our friend who was visiting. Coy offered to make the pepe sauce with a mortar and pestle in lieu of a blender. It turned out quite nicely.

Different Perspectives

2010-10-23T08:43:00.000-07:00

One Ghanaian imagining how it would look to fly over a city.

Thanks, Goat.

2010-10-21T06:09:00.000-07:00

Drums - another one in a long list of captivating things about Ghana. Years back, I visited James, one of the premier drum makers in Ghana, who makes drums for the Ashanti Chief, visiting dignitaries, etc. He's a talented guy and makes beautiful drums of various shapes and sizes. James and I talked for a while about drum making: the Tweneboah wood used for the drum body, how to tune the drums by adjusting the depth of the pegs, and getting the right goat skin for the drum head.

The leopard drum is one of the more interesting. The leopard drum wasn't designed for playing, but for scaring off the enemy during battle. When the drumstick is moved in a circular motion around the drum head it actually sounds like a leopard's roar. Tradition has it that the Ashanti warriors would hide in the bushes, making leopard noises with their drums and successfully fend off larger armies.

James made one of the leopard drums for my brother 10 years ago. After Marshall tired of making the leopard drum noise every morning after he brushed his teeth, it quietly sat in the corner mostly untouched. I suppose dried goat skin could smell a bit like goat jerky, which caught the attention of a bored dog and led to the consumption of half the drum head.

I'm not sure how well it digested, probably like an old shoe.

A new drum head is on the way. I suppose we must only feel sorry for the goat.

Coming Soon to Comedy Central

2010-10-20T06:20:00.000-07:00

Townes’s sense of humor has been developing and we think his first attempts at jokes are pretty hilarious. Usually he hooks you with talking about animals. “Doggie tail,” he might say or “Cat tail.” Once he has you agreeing that, “Yes, a doggie has a tail” then he gives a little grin and tries out “Daddy tail.” When that gets a laugh, he’ll go back to listing some things that have tails before inserting “Emma/momma/Townes tail.”

His other big joke uses the same approach but with a slightly different punchline. For this one he names things that fly...”Airplane/Bird/Butterfly/Bubbles/Helicopter fly” before tossing in “Daddy fly” followed by a wry little grin and a “Nooooo!”.

His third joke involves a prop. Duck Hat:

Get it?

Babysitting

2010-10-19T02:49:00.001-07:00

Reflections...

2010-10-16T00:32:00.001-07:00

Living in a village, you realize that you took some of the small things for granted; like purchasing a bottle of bubbles, which is almost impossible outside of a 6 hour drive. As we approach the end of our bubble supply, we'd like to look back on the good times - and valuable distractions - that bubbles have given us.

Bubbles, we thank you.

Street Food, III (or Nice Chop!*)

2010-10-12T10:21:00.000-07:00

Quite possibly the best street food experience so far: RedRed (spicy beans, palm oil, spicy tomato sauce and onions with fried ripe red plantain) for 1 cede right outside of Adum in Kumasi. The name RedRed comes from the color of the spicy beans and the fried, ripe plantain - both of which are red. The powder atop this delightful dish is called Gari, which is dried, pulverized cassava.

The lady serving it up is a bit saucy herself, laughing at the obruni's who come by to eat her food. I don't think she gets many other non-Ghanaian visitors. All I have to say is that is that the RedRed is piping hot, the Ghanaians line up to eat it and, so far, it's 99.44% risk free.

* Chop is a slang word for "Eat" in Ghana. Examples include, restaurant street vendors, which are called "Chop Shops". Good food can be called "Nice Chop". Definitely the most memorable example: when I was here 10 years ago, a student volunteer was told by a Ghanaian after his supposed sloppy eating, "You chop like pig!".

His second love

2010-10-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

Likes and dislikes can change quickly for this kid, but there appear to be a few constants for his stay in Ghana: Emma and drums.

When he sees drums, he calls them by name and says "Ba Booom Boom", usually hitting his stomach-turned drum.

Luckily, we are drum-rich here in Ghana. He's played them atop rooftops hotels, at the church, at the Kente cloth village (pictured) and just about anywhere else he can find them.

I think he's got pretty good rhythm - we'll keep working on it!

Tro-Tro Travel

2010-10-08T23:19:00.001-07:00

Tro-Tros, or the packed mini-buses that transport the majority of Ghanaians, are one of the more interesting experiences in Ghana. Comprised of the driver and the mate (the guy who collects the money, announces the destinations to potential travelers, and generally takes care of everything so the driver can -mostly- focus on the road), the tro tros are at once exhilarating and terrifying. A tro-tro ride drops you in the middle of the sites and sounds of Ghanaian society. As you drive through the congested roads, you experience at once the smells of the food vendors, the music on the streets, the funerals, the pollution, the muddy roads and ingenuity of Ghanians to make most anything work. There is an area around Kumasi called "The Magazine" where it has been reported that you can see any trashed-out European vehicle picked apart, re-combined and reassembled into the tro-tros that are driving down the road today.

That's the exhilarating part.

Terrifying because, well, there are not many official rules to the road. In some sense, that makes driving paradoxically safer because no one assumes that they can predict what any other driver will do. Hence, the constant horn "tooting" to tell everyone, "Hey, I'm here, don't pull over into the lane". The game extends to passing, where I have seen tro-tros pass directly into oncoming traffic without blinking an eye. True to form, the oncoming tro-tro simply nudges over a bit and the two pass by, seamlessly.

The tro-tros also give a good opportunity to brush up on German - many of the mini-buses formerly belonged to German tradesmen, so former mini-buses owned by the local Schreinerei, Elektriker, and Klimaanlage repairman are the order of the day.

It must be said - the price can't be beat: the 45 minute trip from our village of Ankaase to Kumasi costs 70 peswas, about 50 cents. It's also an experience in community. Being bunched up with a bunch of people for an hour requires patience, restraint and an acknowledgment that you are enduring some unpleasantness along with your fellow Ghanaians!

Above: One of the bigger tro-tros at Kejetia Station.

The mate (in yellow shirt) working out the payments and change in a tro-tro on the way to Kumasi. All in his head, he takes all of the payments first, then makes change for each of the passengers.

Selling dried plantain in Aboaso

(For those concerned for the health and well-being of Kacey and Townes - they are always safely tucked away in a taxi. Tro Tro's are only for me on my solo trips!)

Thank goodness

2010-10-08T10:00:00.000-07:00

Pancakes and so much more

2010-10-04T15:35:00.000-07:00

The mostly world-famous home of Dan the Pancake Man. A local hero in Busua beach and one of the few places I have been where you can order 4 lobsters, rice and "sauce" for 15 cedes.

How did Townes like it? "Spicy!"

As for me, we're heading back tomorrow.

nB: Freshly squeezed juice courtesy of Frank the Juice Man. Yes, seriously.

Hey to you, too.

2010-10-03T13:57:00.000-07:00

I suppose a cramped, hot tro-tro complete with flashing camera does sort of remind me of my limited Zurich clubbing experiences...

Another Zoological Find...

2010-10-02T13:40:00.000-07:00

This guy was crossing the street the other day.

Abesua Prayer Mountain

2010-10-01T03:38:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, we decided that the Buckley family needed to get out and see more of the countryside. We had heard stories of a mountain in Ghana that, for those who climbed her, would receive answers to any prayers the hiker made en route. Just the possibility of their being a mountain in Ghana, much less the chance of having our prayers answered, warranted further investigation.

We started off around 1pm from the town center in Ankaase. The first taxi driver we solicited for the journey had no idea where we wanted to go - and had a very low command of the English language - but wanted to charge us 30 cedes regardless. I chuckled and responded, “Hey, I can get to Kumasi for 10 cedes!” and moved on. The taxi driver hurried over to ask another driver, who said that he wasn’t sure where we wanted to go, but knew that the roads in that region were quite bad, i.e., washed out and unpaved, but that he could take us to Ntonso for 5 cedes. From there, we could take public transport to get to Abesua. It seemed mostly reasonable, so we agreed and hopped in the car.

Once we got on the road, we realized that this driver was from the Volta Region and not only spoke English quite well, but was friends with Dickson, another Ghanaian from Volta I had met 10 years ago. After talking for a bit, Wonder (our taxi drivers name, or “Wahndah” in Ghanaian English) decided to give us a hand and call someone who knew the area of Abesua. According to Wonder’s source, the roads to Abesua were, in fact, very bad and that public transport was infrequent on the weekends. With this new set of facts we decided it was best to employ Wonder to take us to the mountain. After a bit of haggling, extrapolating an estimated fare using posted prices from Ankaase to Aboaso with a full load, the number of trips a day, etc., we settled on an amount not too far off from our previous offer: 25 Cedes.

The first half hour of the trip was easy going. Nice open, paved roads, no traffic and the promise of a nice day ahead. Soon after, the situation changed. It looked as though we had dropped off the map and there was nothing but washed out, dirt roads ahead:

For about an hour, Wonder adeptly navigated the ditches and crevasses, but it was obvious that his car was taking a beating. The stock Fiat radio he had rigged into his ’97 Hyundai was twice as big as the hole designed to fit it and was continuously falling out of the dash as we took jarring bump after jarring bump. We continued along at a snail’s pace for about 45 minutes, bucking up and down the road, until the car ground to a halt.

The excessive jarring and bobbing for the past 45 minutes resulted in Wonder’s brake calipers overheating and then seizing up. The front wheel breaks were locked down. We were in the middle of nowhere, it was the hottest day since we had arrived in Africa, and we seemed to be stuck.

Wonder had a plan. He asked for Townes’s bottle, and began pouring it over the front wheels, which resulted in a loud hiss and horrific, steamy smell of brake caliper smoke permeating the air. I had always heard *never* to pour water on a hot brake caliper - something about warping it - but apparently, such lessons were not part of the father-son talks in Ghana.

We waited. Wonder seemed slightly concerned, but not overly so. We sat tight.

About 15 minutes later, a few walks around the car, some contemplative looking and not-so-delicate kicking of the tires, we gave the car a go and surprisingly, it moved along. Not quickly, mind you, but the Hyundai seemed to be slowly warming up to motion again. We continued along.

Finally, after another 20 minutes or so. The road stopped. We were in Abesua, and at the foot of the Prayer Mountain:

So it wasn’t much of a mountain - I think the technical term is an "escarpment" - but it was a quite a bit higher than our current location and promised nice views of the jungle, so we ventured forth.

We walked a bit outside the village and came across a wooden bridge. One of the guys we had picked up on our way into town, who also claimed to be a local rap artist, offered to take us to the top of the mountain. We accepted his offer and after checking the sturdiness of the wooden plank that covered the stream, we started up the mountain.

After another twenty minutes of walking, we ran across a staircase that had been built into the mountain. There aren’t many times in Ghana that I think to myself, “This feels like I’m living in an Indiana Jones movie”, but was one of those times.

There were lots of stairs. I didn't count them, but wouldn't be ashamed to estimate around 400 of them. They were of varying height and often interrupted by areas that were completely washed out.

After about 30 minutes of climbing the steps, our destination broke through the canopy. We took a short break, and continued up the trail.

As if the stairs carved into the mountain weren't enough to set the appropriate Temple of Doom imagery, we ran across this:

Yes, there were thousands of millipedes squirming and maneuvering across the stairs. They made a quiet, scurrying sound as their millions of legs marched over our path. We carefully stepped over the river of millipedes, which, quite literally, ran the width of the stair case and spilled over into a squirming millipede pile on either side of us, and then I dropped my fedora deep into the pile of millipedes. I reached into the pile to grab it, scraping millipedes off my hands when a cobra raised its head and hissed... wait, ok, so it wasn't that much like Indiana Jones...

After another half hour, I was starting to appreciate that carrying Townes on my back was a bit tougher than I had imagined. I prepared to sit down and take a break, when a gentlemen from the village below breezed past me carrying what must have been the weight equivalent of Townes and a backpack on his head.

We decided to continue on.

An hour later, we made it to the peak.

The view from the peak was pleasant. The rains were coming in, there was a cool breeze and the accompanying rustle of leaves below us. We drank some water, rested our legs and took some time to contemplate.

There has been a lot to consider in the past 5 months. Instead of focusing on the exhaustion of getting up the mountain, there were times when it was better to think on other things, like, why we are in Ghana, where we will go after our time here and how best to spend the sabbatical.

We haven’t received any clear answers, yet, but Prayer Mountain lived up to the hype.

On the way home, the perfect snack from the perfect vendor.

Recipe from Kacey's Chop Bar

2010-09-30T08:23:00.000-07:00

Though my Kontomire is still not as good as Maggie's, it is getting better every week. Here's how to try it at home:

Wash each kontomire leaf. Then bundle and chop finely.

Chop onions, garlic, and red peppers. Blend.

Bring a pot of water to boil. Add the knotomire and let it cook down for at least 12 minutes.

Remove fish from bones. Fry up the fish in a pot with oil and the blended spicy goodness.

Combine your pots and keep cooking for at least twenty minutes.

Yummy!

EMMA!

2010-09-28T05:04:00.000-07:00

Most mornings this is the first says that Townes says as I lift him out of the ol’ Pack-n-play. He proceeds to ask for Emma a few dozen times before it is even a reasonable enough hour to play with a friend. (Yes, Townes still wakes up before 5 on a regular basis despite the ending of the revival. Lucky us!) Once we have wiled away two or three hours with greeting the dog, playing with the many toy cars left behind by the doctor’s daughter (they’re all pink and belong to Barbie or Poly Pocket), and eating some oatmeal, it is finally time to play with EMMA! When Townes hears the gate open, his eyes widen and he starts repeating her name.

When you ask him to touch his eyes/ears/arms/etc, he correctly identifies the part and then says, "Emma eyes/ears/arms." Apparently, Townes and Emma once saw an airplane fly overhead while together because now when he looks for airplanes in the sky, he says "Emma airplane."

AH, new love. Can you blame the kid?

For Lars

2010-09-26T05:53:00.000-07:00

Three-Legged Pot Matches. Keeping Sweden fresh on our minds every morning.

ObamaMania

2010-09-24T03:28:00.000-07:00

Unlike some parts of the US, excitement for Obama has not yet subsided in Ghana. His image can still be found everywhere: on billboards stumping for the new president of Ghana (somehow I doubt this was officially endorsed by the POTUS), his face adorns t-shirts, he has his own kente cloth design, and heck, Barack even has his own fabric in honor of his trip to the Cape Coast Castle several years back.

 Here are just a few of the Obama sightings over the past month:

Flags on the dashboard of a random tro-tro:

A satchel bag made from Obama fabric:

One of the many Obama T-shirts:

Obama’s Kente Cloth Pattern:

and yes, after weeks of hearing the rumors of their existence and searching provision stores throughout Ghana, we finally found the few remaining Obama Biscuits:

So how do they taste?

Kacey: “Snappy and Delicious!”
 Coy: “Ehhh”

Street Food, II

2010-09-23T12:10:00.000-07:00

Crazy Things We Try: Cocoa Beans

2010-09-23T05:50:00.000-07:00

Ghana is big exporter of Cocoa. On Saturday, we travelled to Adanwomase to see the Kente cloth weaving. They also took us to their small cocoa farm.

After seeing where one farmer was putting his beans out to dry in the village, I got inspired to try my own. Here are our beans drying out in the backyard on a cookie sheet:

I had some grand notions of pulverizing the beans once they had dried further in our back yard for an ultra pure chocolate experience. After a bit of research this morning - it ain’t quite that easy. I haven’t given up, but don’t stay up at night dreaming of chocolate glory.

At least not yet.

Street Food, II

2010-09-22T05:49:00.000-07:00

Jolof rice, with pepper sauce, noodles and salad (buried underneath). Fresh from the market and so tasty.

I’ll let you know how it turned out tomorrow.

More Zoological Finds in our Yard

2010-09-21T04:58:00.001-07:00

A light rain the other day didn’t stop our new ritual of standing under Townes’s favorite tree and touching the thorns while saying ‘Ouch.’ Afterwards, when examining some nearby flowers, we found a pack of huge snails. (A herd? A flock? A gaggle?)

For some reason, Townes couldn’t get a very close look!

They didn't have waffles...

2010-09-20T05:48:00.000-07:00

Pure OJ - For Silas

2010-09-18T05:46:00.000-07:00

I heard from Amanda, a good friend now living in Colorado (I say now living, because I’m not sure if you can ever say she’s from there - it’s hard to take the Mobile out of the girl, but I’ll let her correct me on this one), that the “Street Food” post with fresh coconut milk had inspired her son, Silas, to ask if he could go to the grocery store to get a coconut so he could try it himself.

Not sure how the coconut experiment turned out, but here’s another one to try.

The Original Yo!

2010-09-17T05:43:00.000-07:00

Before coming to Ghana, I thought “Yo” was a modern invention; perhaps concocted only slightly before the time of “Yo! MTV Raps”. Not so. “Yo” is a staple of Twi, the language spoken in this part of Ghana.

As an example, I provide an excerpt from “Twi Made Easy (A Practical Guide for Non-Twi Speakers, Beginners and Foreigners)” by Kofi Frempong-Barfi:

Ghanaian 1: Wo ho te sen? // How are you?
Ghanaian 2: Me ho ye. // I am fine.
Ghanaian 1: Na wo nso e? // And you?
Ghanaian 2: Me nso me ho ye. // I am also fine.
Ghanaian 1: Yo! // o.k.

“Yo” is remarkably effective. Whenever I’m not sure how to end any basic conversation (e.g., we’ve both said “hello, how are you?”, or exchanged “Good afternoons”), I can respond, “Yo” and consider it successfully executed. The success is usually evidenced by the receipt of a knowing smile or, more often than not, “Hey, Obrouni wo te Twi paaa!?”, “Hey, Whiteman, you speak Twi!”.

“Yo” is quite easy and fun to say, especially with the prolonged “Yooooo” that people tend to like around here.

Who knew?

Sweet, Sweet Gas

2010-09-16T05:35:00.000-07:00

After additional disappointments of when the gas would actually come, see “No More Gas!”, we finally were able to get gas last Friday. Like most things in Ghana, it was an odyssey.

We started at a logical place, the Royal Gas Depot outside of Kumasi. Upon arriving, we were overwhelmed by the number of other people who also thought Royal was an obvious starting point:

Realizing that - even if we succeeded in getting gas - the wait would take us the better part of a day, we decided to move along and see what other options might arise.

Our friend, Richie, had a friend, Isaac, who worked at a filling station in Kumasi. We drove to his house to see whether he had any leads on gas in town. At Isaac’s house, we also met the matron, Auntie Margaret. Auntie was a gracious hostess, offering not only her son to accompany us on the trip to find some gas, but a place for Kacey and Townes to hang out while we went searching for gas.

We familiarized Townes with a few children around the house and headed out of Kumasi to see if we could find some gas. After about 30 minutes of driving - we hit the jackpot:

The line was reasonably massive. Much shorter than Royal Gas, but there were still about 50 canisters waiting to be filled. I did the math: at about 2 minutes to fill each canister, plus the obligatory shuffling and changing of fittings, we were going to be there for a while. The wait wasn’t improved by the fact that a well-to-do Ghanaian in his Forerunner dashed the owner a few Cedes (dash- v. meaning tip or bribe) and was able to put his 5(!) tanks to the front of the line.

With a collective sigh by those of us waiting in line, we watched as the guy took 20 minutes of our time to have his tanks filled at the head of the queue. When Richie pushed the owner to understand why this was allowed, he simply responded, “This is Africa.”

2 hours later after finally filling our tanks, we headed back to pick up Kacey and Townes from Isaac’s house and headed on home. We made a quick stop in Kumasi for a celebratory pizza lunch at the famed Nick’s Pizza, “Best Pizza in Town!”. And indeed it was.

Richie was in total agreement.

First Day of School

2010-09-15T05:29:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was the first day of school for our friends, Richie and Maggie. It was a busy day.

Townes also attended - which means he's growing up quite quickly! Kacey shed a small tear as he walked to the next village with his little backpack...

We respond to reader comments

2010-09-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

It seems our masked reader has struck again, this time with a question regarding our post "Au Natural".

Anonymous writes, "What is gentle heckling consists of in Ghana?"

Anonymous then adds, "Wait --that was supposed to say What does gentle heckling mean?"

First, we commend you on taking the time to make the grammar correction. I'm not sure I would have done it, myself. Maybe it's a lack of appropriate functionality...

Second, to your question, let me begin with a picture.

So this is the village market...is it what you pictured? Maybe slightly more rustic?

The attention usually begins with children calling out to us as we leave the dirt road that leads down from our home to the main road that is paved. Sometimes a small group will walk alongside while tapping Townes’s shoe or holding my hand. Other kids are content to just shout ‘Obrouni!’ (which means “White Person’) and wave. And children like to try out their English phrases- ‘How are you? I’m fine.’

Once we enter the market though, the attention does at times have the feel of being affectionately teased. Maybe I’ll try out my few phrases in Twi ("Me beh taw Ntooos 5000", "I want to buy 50 peswas of tomatoes") and the person will respond at great length and then chuckle when I have to say "Men te ase", or “I don’t understand”. Or there’s the one lady who is obviously known for being a joker because she can really get the ladies in the stall around her laughing. And everyone would love to have more of Townes’s attention but he’s not really one to meet and greet. He’s not averse to the crowd but he does not respond to someone shaking his hand or saying ‘Good morning’ directly to him. We’ll work on it!

Kacey negotiating for the best prices and freshest selections!

Of course, there are also plenty of friendly faces. We bought the spice mixture for our Kontomire from these ladies:

Townes Travels - Ghanaian Style!

2010-09-11T07:16:00.000-07:00

We decided that we had enough of the strange looks that Townes gets when he is carried around in his backpack, so this weekend we practiced carrying him in traditional Ghanaian fashion.

He liked it...for about 5 minutes!

We figure we can break him in slowly so that he'll eventually travel unnoticed through the streets of Ankaase...

Thanks to Richie for the photos!

A visit to Ntonso - The Home of Adinkra

2010-09-10T04:56:00.000-07:00

My work with the Millenium Cities Initiative has changed a bit and now involves supporting with the development of a tourism strategy for the Ashanti region. While it is not quite as well developed as the capital city of Accra, the Ashanti region is much more interesting culturally. It is the home of the Asantehene, the king of the Ashanti Empire and, because they control much of the gold and cocoa in Ghana, one of the most powerful tribal chiefs in West Africa. You can visit the Asantehene's palace, called Menhyia palace, in Kumasi.

Surrounding Kumasi are a variety of cultural sites: the Awhiaa wood-carving village, where masks, stools and other wooden carvings are made, Bonwire, where the local Kente cloth is manufactured, and many others. Right now, some tourists come to Kumasi and visit the broader Ashanti region, but it is quite underdeveloped compared to the Ghanaian coast (due to the slave fortifications).

As part of our fact finding for the work, we visited Ntonso, the home of Adinkra. The following extract from Wikipedia explains Adinkra:

"Adinkra are visual symbols, originally created by the Akan of Ghana and the Gyaman of Cote d'Ivoire in West Africa, that represent concepts or aphorisms. Adinkra are used on fabric, walls, in pottery, woodcarvings and logos. Fabric adinkra are often made by woodcut sign writing as well as screen printing. They also can be used to communicate evocative messages that represent parts of their life or those around them."

An example of some of the Adinkra symbols can be found here.

The village of Ntonso is the home of the Adinkra, as they started making and printing the symbols on cloth, such as the chiefs clothes or on clothes for special occasions, such as funerals, many hundreds of years ago. The stamps are traditionally carved by hand and printed using ink distilled from a special tree bark. Now, however, the Adinkra symbols are everywhere: plastic chairs, gates, and even Vodaphone in Ghana uses them in their marketing campaign.

Ntonso has a very small visitor center, which we visited one Saturday afternoon. The visitor center had a small museum (featuring what was claimed to be 200 year old Adinkra cloth for a local chief simply sitting in the open), as well as a small printing center - outside, on the grass - where we could make our own Adinkra stamps.

Here is a photo of a stamp being carved. The individual carving this one is the only person in the village of Ntonso who is allowed to carve the stamps. The trade is passed down from father to son.

A freshly dipped stamp in the cauldron of boiling ink:

A stamped Adinkra symbol. This symbol means Wisdom and was made to symbolise the plucked hair of a chief who was thought to be particularly wise:

And Kacey, trying her hand at stamping:

A rack of stamped Adinkra cloth:

All of it is very interesting - including the history of those Adinkra stamps that could not be worn by anyone but the chief, under punishment of death, a fact that was not mentioned as part of the tour, but only found out upon further questioning - but the site was not very well developed. The quality of the stamping could be better, the museum improved, as well as potential things to purchase at the end of the tour.

This is a good time to do some research - what types of things would you be interested in if you visited Ghana? What would be important in terms of infrastructure? What types of things would interest you most to purchase? To learn?

Happy Birthday, Kacey!

2010-09-08T13:59:00.000-07:00

She flies through the air with the greatest of ease, and, well, she is in fact Gorgeous!

Here is to my wife and intrepid travel companion. With still no gas in the stove, the birthday party lacked some of the traditional accoutrements, and my surprise pizza dinner plans were all for nothing. Regardless, we had a nice day with "ball floats", something akin to a Ghanaian beignet, with a nice cup of coffee.

Kacey, it wouldn't be the same without you! Thanks for everything!

Washing Hands - Never been so exciting!

2010-09-08T04:51:00.000-07:00

Townes and Nevin mostly get along. I say mostly because they both like the same car - sometimes referred to by Townes as the "Red Cuck", or the Red Truck. Sharing has not come naturally to Townes, so if Nevin has spied the Red Truck, then let the rumble begin.

Otherwise, they get along really well. Here they are playing in the sink together. My guess is that Townes was laughing on the inside....

Au natural

2010-09-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

Kacey has been reading quite a few books about natural foods, among them Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. We like the idea of paying attention to what we put into our bodies. Sometimes it is more expensive, but we wonder to ourselves - what are the true costs of saturated fats, high sodium and processed foods on our medical bills, stewardship of the land and animals, as well as our overall sense of well-being?

Here, it has been quite easy to live an "organic" life. Everything basically grows in our backyard, and we can buy it at the village market. Granted there are costs to this approach - Kacey is often gently heckled with Townes in his backpack (or if he is riding in his stroller, everyone assumes he must be handicapped!) and the variety is not as broad as we could get elsewhere. On the flipside, the vegetables - primarily consisting of okra, corn, tomatoes, onions, coco yam leaf (similar to spinach) - and the fruits - pineapple, bananas, papaya, and oranges - are all very local and taste fantastic!

Gas is out!

2010-09-06T04:36:00.000-07:00

In Ghana, you have to keep your tanks full. Both for your cars, and your stove.

Last Tuesday, we ran out of gas for the stove. Unfortunately, the entire Ashanti region is apparently also out of gas. We have heard that the station near our house would have more natural gas by Saturday. Luckily, our next door neighbors (who are away) had some for their stove, so we just borrowed a bit.

Saturday arrived - still no gas.

Sunday arrived - still no gas.

On Sunday evening, the next door neighbors ran out of gas. So we've moved on to the traditional coal stove. It takes a bit more time, sure. But hey, we always liked camping out.

The gas is supposed to finally be available tomorrow afternoon. We're not keeping our hopes up.

Kacey making an egg scramble on the coal stove. Notice the intense focus on maintaining the coals at just the right temperature:

Anomabo

2010-08-30T04:40:00.000-07:00

Before heading to Ankaase last week, we stopped by the beach for a couple of days.

My vision of relaxing on the sunny beach while Coy and Townes built sandcastles wasn't meant to be. It's rainy season here so it was mostly cool and overcast. And the bigger obstacle was Townes's inexplicable reluctance to play or even walk in the sand. He liked sand enough in the sandboxes in Zurich playgrounds so I'm not sure what the hold-up was here.

Regardless, we spent a lot of time hanging out here

and here

A highlight of our walks was the fishing boats.

We also toured the old fort at Cape Coast that was used in the slave trade. President Obama visited last summer and the people we met who were selling snacks nearby were still talking about it. Two years ago when we toured the bigger fort nearby at Elmina, I was quite emotional about the experience. This time, Townes kept me rather busy and I did not want him to distract the other people on the tour. But it was still chilling to consider the history of this place.

We respond to reader comments

2010-08-29T06:45:00.000-07:00

One of our faithful readers, who endearingly posts as "Anonymous", has asked:

"What's the deal with Ghanains getting up so early? A revival starting at 4AM? That sounds crazy... Please elaborate."

Very good question.

Needless to say, a 4am wake up call is a fair bit earlier than we're accustomed.

In case there is any doubt about whether Ghanaians are early risers, we can provide the following anecdote:

Kacey was discussing the Revival in Ejuretia with Julie (local librarian and one of the village matriarchs), complaining that it was too loud and too early. She remembers the conversation thusly,

Kacey: "So did the 4AM revival wake you up this morning?"
Julie: "No, I was able to sleep right through it."
Kacey: "Really?!"
Julie: "I even slept in a little bit this morning"
Kacey: "Wow, that must be nice. Did you sleep until 7 or 8?"
Julie: "No, no. I slept until about a quarter to five."

This has been seconded by Rocksin (the scorpion remover, see "Not One of Townes' Friends") that many of the Ghanaians who work in Kumasi will hit the road by 4am to get there. If you don't, you're likely stuck in a crowded tro-tro and in traffic for several hours.

As for broader theories about why Ghanaians wake up so early? Here are some of our conjectures:

1) Roosters - There may have been a part of me that thought roosters were a quaint fixture of the pastoral life. They greet the sun around 6.30 or 7am as someone is preparing bacon and eggs for me, the smell of Folgers in my cup wafts up the stairwell... no longer.

Roosters start crowing sometime around dawn, often times long before the sun actually breaks through my window. It's tough to sleep through.

2) Communal Living - We met a Peace Corps volunteer who had lived for 2 years in Ntonso, a village near here. For the first year or so, she lived in a compound with other Ghanaians. She had no privacy, and noted that the day started early, particularly with the sounds of small children. There was no sleeping "late" with kids crying, needing to be fed, washed, etc.

Plus who wants to be the last to roll out of bed in the morning?

3) Nothing to do at night - While there are numerous "Spots" around the village where one can procure the local drink, a beer, some gin, etc., there aren't many other options - especially if you don't want to hang out at a bar. Once it gets dark, things rapidly start slowing down in the village.

Plus, add mosquitoes into the mix - they often come out after dark - then there are other incentives to be tucked away inside early in the evening.

4) Squeak-toy bird: A bird that has yet to be identified but sounds exactly like a horrible squeak toy. This bird appears outside of our window sometime around 3am and its squeaks pick up by 4:30. Just thinking about it makes me want to cut down all of the bushes and trees near our house.

5) There's stuff to be doin' - In the morning, lots of people are lighting fires, getting the pots out and cooking breakfast. That takes time. There are no Hot Pockets, or gas ovens for lots of people. If you want to be eating by 7, somebody's got to get up early.

Walking to Town

2010-08-29T01:01:00.000-07:00

All young children are carried on people's backs in Ghana, but with a piece of local cloth wrapped tightly around their waist.

I suppose the backpack can look a bit...over-engineered.

How to Add an Hour to Your Child’s Sleep

2010-08-28T00:22:00.000-07:00

That’s the sort of subheading that I’ve sought out in baby manuals in order to help our early riser be a bit more Buckley about his schedule. Suggestions usually include blackout shades, sound machines, adjusting bedtime. But I’ve never read the tip that worked for us here: ask the DJ in the neighboring village to consider turning down the volume on the show that he broadcasts at 5am over the loudspeakers in your backyard.

Each radio day begins with an ascending 3-part tone, Bum, Bahm, Bum! Whenever we talk about the mornings, Townes now turns to us and says "Bum Bahm Bum!". It would be cute, if it wasn't at 5am.

Not to be defeated by the DJ in Ejuretia, Coy and Maggie went on a mission this week to find the DJ and ask him to turn his music down.

It began with a late evening trek with Maggie through the bush from our village, Ankaase, to the neighboring village of Ejuretia.

The village of Ejuretia. We had to talk to a few people in the village to find out where the DJ lived.

Once we found the offending loudspeaker, we traced the wire back to his house.

After successfully tracing the wire back to the DJ's home, Maggie pounded on the door. Sadly, he wasn't home.

However, he had conveniently painted his mobile number on his house, so we gave him a call.

Once we found the DJ, we were quickly sidetracked to other topics - the radio business, whether America has any fetish priests, his views on the Ghanaian history (specifically, how the Ashanti people migrated from present-day Mali, how the Ewe people in the Volta region were formerly Togolese, but ended up in Ghana solely because of the arbitrary borders drawn by the British, etc.) All of it was quite interesting, but still not to the point. Before I could get to his external loudspeaker and the volume, his buddy came by who was the founder/inventor/chief marketer for Boakye Educational Products.

The founder of Boakye Educational Products had made a mock traffic light as a pedagogical tool. After ranting for several minutes about the inadequacies of existing pedagogical tools, then singing a song about "Green Light Go, Red Light Stop" he proceeded to try to convince Maggie that she should buy this product for 35 Ghana Cedis. She haggled for a better price (she is opening a preschool and it could conceivably come in handy). In response to the haggling, the founder of Boakye Educational Products complained for about 10 minutes about her haggling, insisted that the price was a good price, and that the she should be willing to pay for such a top-quality pedagogical tool. He then proceeded to prove the aforementioned quality, only to find that the yellow light did not work.

Seemingly unphased by this, he proceeded to share all of his knowledge about other educational products. About how rocking horses should only be approximately "crotch-high" and that many rocking horses are much higher than they ought to be, which can result in very dangerous rocking horses. This discussion was repeated ad nauseum for about 15 minutes.

Finally, we were able to get to the point with the DJ: your radio is too loud and too early. My son wakes up. Please turn it down.

Not surprisingly, this was not the first complaint he had heard, the DJ told me, but that he had already responded by beginning at 5am - 1 hour later than he had previously started (his broadcast license apparently allows him to begin at 4am!) and that only 1 of the 4 loudspeakers was actually working. I suppose the implication being that the music couldn't be that loud (mind you that the radio station is a 20 minute walk from our house and we can hear it perfectly).

I feigned sympathy, and re-engaged him on Ghanaian history and his desire to travel to the US and Israel. After another 15 minutes - we were approaching 2 hours with the DJ - he agreed that he would turn it down in the morning and perhaps begin a little later.

Victory!

Here is a very happy me with the Ejuretia DJ.

If you can see the collection of records above us, one of them is an old Kenny Rogers LP. So sweet.

The next morning, the music did not begin until 5.30, and it was much quieter. Townes slept until 6.30, and his parents were quite happy.

Postscript -

Sadly, this morning was the beginning of a 7th Day Adventist Revival at the radio station. The singing is louder and began at 4am. I've also heard that the revival will last until Sunday.

Defeat.

Kontomire Stew

2010-08-25T04:30:00.000-07:00

Kontomire Stew (ponounced Con-too-me-rey) perhaps one of the most fantastic things I have had in a while.

It's basically tomato sauce, fish and coco yam leaf, plus some other stuff.

In case you want to try your own...

http://www.ghananation.com/recipes/Kontomire-Stew.asp

Laundry Day

2010-08-25T00:07:00.001-07:00

Our laundry room would have made the blog if I had listed things that I will not miss about Zurich. Tucked down in the scary basement (ok, the basement wasn’t so scary except for the fact that it was a basement which automatically makes it a place you don’t want to go at night), it brought me to tears of frustration once or twice. Just typing that makes me realize how ridiculous it is that I could lose my cool over laundry but, trust me, those machines had something against me.

With the boy-o out of shorts and his daddy-o out of skivvies, it was time to figure out the Ankaase washing machine. With four hands-on steps, it was a fairly involved process. Step one: fill drum with hose, add soap and clothes, wash. Step two: drain out water. Step three: Repeat step one, omitting the soap. Step four: Put the a third of the clothes into the spinner and repeat until all clothes are spun.

Drying was much easier:

Not one of Townes' New Friends

2010-08-24T04:23:00.000-07:00

We've been posting a lot about the friends Townes has been making over the past couple of weeks.

This was not one of them.

Yep, the largest scorpion I have ever seen. We thought maybe he'd been flown in from Maine. Townes had the warm butter waiting back in the kitchen.

Remember Ray Harryhausen's scorpions from the Clash of the Titans - you know, the ones that spawned from Medusa's blood? I think this one was their little brother.

The Ray Harryhausen Creature List: Scorpions from CLASH OF THE TITANS (1981)

The guard, Rocksin, found this scorpion in the bush outside of our gates. I've included a Ghanaian 50 cedi piece for reference - it's about the size of a quarter.

Safely disposed of back to the bush...after chopping off his stinger of course.

Saturday with Neighbors

2010-08-23T04:15:00.003-07:00

This is Michael, one of Dorothy's kids:

On Saturday, our friend Dorothy came over with her kids. Maggie, Emma and Nevin were also there - so Townes had plenty of playmates.

We begin working with the hospital on Monday. I'll be working with Richard Tweneboah, the Hospital General Manager, on setting the strategic direction for the hospital, in addition to working with their operational/accounting processes. We've also connected with the Country Director from the Millenium Cities Initiative in Kumasi. Overall, we're excited about the projects.

Kacey will also be working with Maggie as she sets up the preschool in the neighboring village. We'll both be busy!

We'll post more on the work soon...

Our House

2010-08-22T04:06:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of our house in Ankaase. It is the United Methodist Missions House, and was formerly occupied with the Dr. Gongwer and his family.

The garden was improved 10 years ago (I actually helped to make the bricks and place them on the drive) and the results have been stunning!

Right now it is the rainy season. The weather has been much cooler than in Accra, with much less pollution. Our lungs are thanking us!

Dinner and friends

2010-08-21T04:03:00.000-07:00

One of the more interesting foods in Ghana is FuoFuo (pronounced FooFoo).

It takes quite a bit of time to prepare - not to mention shoulder strength. Our friends Maggie and Emma came by on Wednesday to help us to prepare it.

Maggie's son, Nevin, is one of Townes' new friends!

Tasty!

Off to village life...

2010-08-20T03:52:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, we left Accra for Ankaase on the VIP bus line. The VIP is, actually, quite VIP. It's airconditioned, not overcrowded and has a movie feature on the way up. And for 15 Ghana Cedis (USD 10), you can't beat the price.

Both movies were produced in Ghana. The first, called "The Game" was a multi-story drama filled with intrigue, assassinations and love trysts. The second one was about an arrogant son who murders his father, the chief, to try to take over the throne. Lots of blood and fighting! The volume was ear splitting, so the fighting was hard to ignore.

Luckily, Townes napped most of the time and so wasn't too worried with the angry people on screen.

Street Refreshment

2010-08-15T11:48:00.000-07:00

Fresh coconut milk.

Digital Sabbatical

2010-08-15T10:38:00.000-07:00

In addition to supporting people, ideas and places that we care about, this sabbatical is also about thinking about our values and trying to see how best to align our actions to those values going forward.

For the last 3 days we were on a circumstantially-imposed "digital sabbatical". The hotel had no internet access, and the closest internet cafe was 20-30 minutes away. It was fantastic. Over the past few years, the blinking red dot on the blackberry had become an increasing irritation. Sunday morning. Blink. Saturday afternoon. Blink. Blink.

Those who know me will attest that I am not the most connected person on the planet, but taking a disciplined break from the internet and constant stream of information makes sense to me. We'll have plenty of time to experience it first hand during the coming months while we are living in the village of Ankaase. Hopefully, that lifestyle will help us to establish an internet practice that fits our family.

As for the photo - I guess locking a small child outside a screen porch could be a metaphor for restricting internet access, but to be honest, I just liked the photo.

This blog also had some ideas...

Your World is About to Change

2010-08-13T11:00:00.000-07:00

We noticed this sign on our first day in Accra, “Your World is About to Change”. It seemed appropriate not only for us, given our move from Europe and move to Africa, but for Ghana, as well.

Accra has changed quite a bit in 10 years. There are modern grocery stores, new hotels and offices complexes being constructed, and rising prices. Other than the construction, the most striking changes in Accra have been the cost, some of which can even equal the prices we’ve seen in Zurich.

 As the Ghanaians decide how to deal with the wealth that will be created by the discovery of the Jubilee oil fields in 2007, life here will continue to rapidly change. To avoid the “resource curse” and to use the oil in a way that benefits all Ghanaians will be a big test for the country.

A Long Way Gone

2010-08-12T06:51:00.000-07:00

This is your first reading assignment. We have been ready a lot in preparation for our sabbatical- notably, White Man's Burden which examines the failure of traditional models of charity in Africa. Maybe we'll report in later or at least update our sidebar.

I also stocked up some books in the Kindle that my folks gave me. Though I love the smell and feel of books, I don't really like packing and hauling them and the Kindle was an awesome gift for this trip. I've uploaded some books on African history and the couple written by Ghanaians that were available to be downloaded. I was eager to begin reading but was automatically drawn to the Gongwer's bookshelves while staying with them in Accra. And that's where I found A Long Way Gone. This memoir was written by Ishmael Beah as the heartbreaking story of his life as a child soldier in Sierra Leone. I cried many times along the way at the horrors of war and Ishmael's tender manner of describing the loss of his family.

Here he quotes his father: "If you are alive, there is hope for a better day and something good to happen." A comment that mirrors much of what our friends say about the hope that resides in Africans.

It is not an easy read, but an illuminating story of one of the estimated 300,000 AK-47 wielding - and often drug-addicted - child soliders in different conflicts around the world.

A visit to Trashy Bags

2010-08-09T10:14:00.001-07:00

The Trashy Bags headquarters is not too far from where we are living in Accra, so we decided to drop in for a visit.

The showroom had quite a few items and was relatively busy with American tourists and a German, Bernard, who was buying for his retail shops in Germany.

Elvis gave us a tour of the facility. He knew of the Elvis in Memphis, but said that for him Elvis had three meanings, one of them was "Creative Leader". We think he found a good outlet for his creativity!

Elvis explained the processes to us as we took the tour. Trashy Bags pays the locals to pick up and bring the water sachets and Fan Ice packets to their facility for "recycling". As the colorful Fan Ice packets are less plentiful, people are paid more for each of the Fan Ice packets they bring. The amount of the collections are seasonal, but according to Elvis they collect approximately 200kg of sachets per week.

Once collected, the used sachets are cut open for ease of cleaning,

dropped into a cleaning solution and then laid out in the sun to dry.

After the cleaning process, the sachets are brought into the stitching area where they are pieced together and turned into bags. All employees brainstorm on new ideas, some of them, such as umbrellas, are currently being engineered for production.

After 3 years in operation, Trashy Bags is barely breaking even. The company hires about 60 employees, not including those that are paid to pick up the sachets in town. We're not sure what the future will bring for Trashy Bags, but were encouraged to experience some of the people behind this innovative idea!

If you want us to pick up one for you, leave us a comment and we'll collect our 5 Cedis (USD 3) when we see you!

Trashy Bags

2010-08-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

Another interesting way to creatively address problems in Africa. The problem is the pollution created by the number of plastic water sachets left on the road after use. Water from the faucet is not clean enough to drink without the risk of getting sick. The water sachets provide purified, cold water, but the byproduct is lots of plastic bags everywhere.

We bought a few of the grocery bags in a shop in Accra for 5 Ghana Cedis (about USD 3).

http://www.trashybags.org/

Here is another one I saw a while back...

Travelling Down the Road

2010-08-08T12:50:00.000-07:00

On our way home today we decided to hop out of the truck and walk. Usually, we are travelling with our friends Dr. Gongwer and Agyeman in his Nissan Patrol. Here is Kacey with Agyeman.

We decided to stop and take a photo of some of the massive termite hills along the road to the University of Ghana.

Then Agyeman offered to walk home with us, kindly pushing Townes in his stroller!

It was a wonderful Sunday.

Townes's New Friends

2010-08-06T10:44:00.001-07:00

Townes has already made a few new friends in Ghana:

the cat, Toulouse

and dog, Max

Townes likes to play ball outside the house

But sometimes Max is a bit of a ball hog...

...and quite too big for Townes to play a credible defense!

Landed in Ghana

2010-08-06T09:34:00.000-07:00

We are now in Accra staying with our friends, the Gongwers.

The flight was rather uneventful except for the last 30 minutes of the flight, where Townes was yelling "Side!", "Side!" - meaning that it was time for a walk outside the cabin. He had to learn a bit of patience!

The weather was surprisingly mild when we landed, 85 F (30 C) and 66% humidity. Certainly much cooler than the weather in the southern United States last month.

This weekend will primarily be devoted to orienting ourselves, getting a phone and trying to figure out how to tackle our next steps!

One Mango Tree

2010-07-27T08:02:00.000-07:00

Friends of ours volunteered with this organization in Uganda last year.

www.onemangotree.com

It's a great example of what's possible in Africa when you have a great products and marketing! We bought some of their jewelry as Christmas presents last year and were quite impressed with the products and delivery.

We're wrapping up our time in the US visiting family - we've slept in 5 different beds in 5 days. Hopefully, life will slow down a bit once we are in Ghana!

Our Friends

2010-06-30T14:17:00.000-07:00

My goal was to have a meaningful post about something we love and will miss about Zurich for every day of June. The only problem with the plan was that it has left me blogging about the things that are super important to me when I am super tired. Adequate amount of sleep or no, it would be difficult to write about how much we will miss the people we've come to know and trust over our years here. Perhaps I'll return to this month-o-blogging once the dust settles and give this post the weight it deserves.

Townes's Friends

2010-06-29T12:16:00.000-07:00

I remember exactly where I was standing when Nancy told me that she was expecting. We had all been suspicious for some time at that point but she pulled a fast one on us with the twin surprise! Here's the girls out for a stroll four days before Townes was born:

And here they are last month at the breakfast table in Burgundy:

Townes loves Rachel and Julia and lately has cried if we walk past the bus stop without getting on to go to their house. He feels as comfortable in their home as ours and loves to give the girls kisses.

Now Edwina and I had been swimming buddies for a couple of months (Doing laps and then going for french fries at the pub next door is not exactly the picture of strong accountability partners but at least it evened out a bit!) when she popped into my classroom at the end of the 07-08 school year and said, 'I've been looking forward to tell you, I'm 12 weeks pregnant.' At this point I was about 11 and a half weeks preggo and had been eager to tell her my news!

There's so much to say about Johnny- Edwina and I have encouraged the boys to be BFFs and they really do complement each other. Johnny is way more physically advanced than Townes- he has been walking since before they turned one and is quite adventurous. Townes is the talker of the pair. (Though Johnny is learning both German and English at home.) I can picture the ways that the two will grow and think that they could have been good pals even without our motherly maneuvering. For now, they've been working on their high five and kicking the football back and forth.

Townes also loves time with Maureen's trio. Abby is the same age as T and Johnny. Townes likes Abby well enough but he adores Luke and just watches him with an open smile for the majority of their time together.

It has been a delight sharing this journey into motherhood with my friends. And I honestly believe that Townes will miss his pals. Annual baby group reunion sounds like a good idea to me!

Travel

2010-06-28T13:53:00.001-07:00

We'll certainly miss traveling. And we've been very fortunate over the years.

Quiz time- can you identify all the places in the photos above?

We'll post the answers before we leave on the 6th.

Ice Cream

2010-06-27T12:46:00.000-07:00

Do you know how to say 'ice cream' in Swiss German?
MOVENPICK

I have no pictures of this Swiss brand of delicious ice cream even though I had a bowl tonight with our pals the Langans. Coy bought a Swiss chocolate and a Raspberry & Cream because he is an ice cream visionary when it comes to perfect combinations.

I will be adding photos of us enjoying a cone at the shop just down the street soon. Thank you, blogspot, for giving me the excuse to make the trip again.

In addition to the many flavors of Movenpick that I'll miss, going to the movies won't be the same when we leave. The theaters inset ice cream breaks into the films. It always catches me by surprise...watching your movie and then it just stops in the middle and the lights come on and everyone goes for a stretch and to grab some ice cream! At first it sort of annoyed me but now I like that it makes going to the movies a bit more social- you have the chance to discuss the plot with your pals and enjoy a treat. Maybe we could just keep the tradition up at home!

The Swiss

2010-06-26T11:47:00.000-07:00

In the international community, we often hear people grumble about the citizens of our host country and we think that's a real shame. Yes, they're sticklers for punctuality and paperwork. Yes, I've been stopped and told that Townes looks like he needs to be wearing a hat and the twins were once brought a glass of water by a stranger in a cafe because she thought they looked thirsty. Yes, I've seen some glaring stares when I'm in a group that is being too loud. But let's face it- Americans do talk really loud!

I have found the Swiss to be kind and helpful. I've only had to wrestle the stroller off of a tram without assistance a few times. Townes is the only child in the apartment building and people dote on him. And when commenting to Coy once about the number of stories I've heard of older Swiss people giving unrequested advice to moms about their children (clothes seem to be the most common hints given- socks/shoes/hats/gloves/blankets), he said that it is actually pretty cool to live in a place where people felt like they could play a grandparenty role to all in the community. Perhaps it's a bit of a stretch but I think he was on to something. There is a true sense of looking out for one another and being aware of how your own actions impact the people around you.

Here's a few random things I like:
When you arrive or leave, you are expected to greet each person with a handshake or a kiss on the cheeks (we're a 3-kiss country, no playing around like with the weak 1-kiss number in Venezuela). To be honest, I'm still not great at this because it's not expected with our American friends but I really like the intentionality .
When having a drink with friends or before a meal, you should look each person in the eyes as you clink and say 'Prost.' Again, it's the idea of taking a moment to acknowledge your connection to each person that I love.

It's a nice day to appreciate the Swiss and their lovely culture. We spent half of our day at a yodeling festival! Though it was a bit more formal than we expected with concerts being held around the town, we enjoyed seeing all of the outfits, eating at the beer halls, and hearing the alpine horns.

In fact the day wore out both of the boys! Here's Townes crashed out in the backpack which gave us the perfect opportunity for a beer and sausage break:

And here's Coy an hour later at the park:

ICS

2010-06-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

School's out for the summer for my former co-workers and students at the Inter-Community School of Zurich. Townes and I popped by yesterday and caught teachers slipping into celebration mode. We went in order to pick up some preschool materials that we'll be taking on to Ghana but it was also nice to see good friends.
Here's a shot from some of my kids on their last day of school a few years ago:

As some of you may know, my first year of teaching right out of college was a tough one. I sought out a difficult assignment in an inner city school that was under-resourced and understaffed. And it was hard, really hard. Loving my students and believing that everyone can learn wasn't enough on a daily basis. By the time the year ended, I had decided it was time to step away from teaching. So I stepped really far away to Caracas!

Getting the job at ICS was a true blessing. My friend Nancy had introduced me to the principal who started calling me in to substitute. An unexpected opening popped up and I was hired. Later I asked the principal about why he had hired me when they are turning away dozens of highly qualified teachers at international school fair. He said that many years of working in schools has taught him that personality was often more important than a resume.

The school really is impressive- a bit shy of 1000 students from pre-K to 12th grade, 40+ countries in the student body, and teachers from all over (many of whom have been spinning the globe for years, just teaching in whatever region interested them). The school follows the IB program which means I was introduced to the Primary Years Program. At first it just seemed like a bunch of acronyms to learn but I really was drawn to the emphasis on teaching kids to be lifelong learners.

Hmm, I'm feeling compelled to tell lots of teacher stories about funny things my students did and said. But instead I'll just say that my time at ICS restored my love of teaching and it prepared me to try again. I doubt that I will ever teach at a school that is as abundantly resourced with materials and a tremendous support staff and eager, involved families. And the training I received on using a SmartBoard probably won't be put to use in the schools where I'll be volunteering a bit in Africa. However, I learned many things in my years at ICS that will impact career decisions I make in the future.

Not so many pictures from school...I suppose they're all tucked away in my files. This picture was the day that we mailed our Flat Stanleys around the world and it was also Crazy Hair Day. If you're guessing that the kid in the bottom right corner was trouble, you're absolutely right!

The Lake

2010-06-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

I'm exhausted tonight but, frankly, I think these pictures say it all anyway.

Huts

2010-06-23T12:46:00.001-07:00

The Alps are dotted with hundreds of huts. Some of our favorite outings have been hikes in various regions of the country to spend the night in a hut run by the Swiss Alpine Club. The set-up is ideal. No need to haul your own food or bedding or felt shoes because these things are provided by the hut. (Yep, we've always had to shelve our hiking boots upon entering and don indoor shoes!) Communal sleeping arrangements have left me feeling a bit like one of Snow White's dwarves.

The two pictures above were from our inaugural hut hike in the summer before we were married. And the two below are from our most memorable hut hike that involved a few near-death experiences on some cliffs and way more snow than we were prepared for in June.

We were the only guests beside the hut master and his pal so we spent the evening laughing and drinking schnapps. The hut master didn't speak English but he spoke Spanish and German so we were triangularly covered! The schnapps probably helped to keeping the conversation flowing.

We hiked to this hut with Braden and Anna when I was about 6 months pregnant.

I had called ahead to get a feel for the difficulty of the hike and had just described myself as a 'beginner' rather than being preggie. I was reassured that the climb was quite manageable so we were rather surprised when we had to scale this rock while holding onto a chain! Coy said that he had heart palpitations watching my scramble a boulder with BB in the way!

Coy was able to go on a hut hike just a few weeks ago with Jeremy and a pal from high school who now lives in Geneva:

What do you think- could we make a career out of starting a system of huts in the Smokies?

Our Porch

2010-06-22T13:56:00.000-07:00

Having no proper arrangement for a table to eat around in the apartment, we eat outside as often as the weather allows. Many enjoyable evenings have been passed in the company of good friends and a cool breeze from the lake.

The splintery chairs were hauled off today in a massive attack on clearing out the apartment. I was sad to see them go but Townes probably just think that it allows him more space for declaring his independence and for tossing small objects between the rails.