Somehow I've been busy lately!

I work with a beekeeping group and things have been going very well. We produce three basic types of honey: cocoa honey, palm oil honey, and wild bush honey. Because everyone here has a cocoa farm (or two, or ten), we produce a lot of cocoa honey. This is good because cocoa honey tastes like a lottery win. It has a medium rich brown color and surprisingly tastes nothing like cocoa at all, with a consistency that's just perfect. It's also a sinful honey, a honey of thieves if you will. Honey bees are not capable of pollinating cocoa trees, but can still access the nectar and pollen. This means that as you enjoy this honey, you should think of all the hard photosynthesis the cocoa tree put into making it without the benefit of a sex reward (pollination, that is.) Didn't know you were such a tease, did you? Don't worry, it comes as a shock to us all. Palm oil honey comes from bees that were housed in oil palm farms. It's golden color is like liquid dreams and and is considered by the FDA a more addictive substance than cocaine. It is best served out of empty Chianti bottles to maximize awe. Bush honey. Beyond the obvious crude sexual reference, bush honey is actually quite like making love with a stranger. It's good, you want it, and you have no idea where it came from. True, it can vary in quality, but you always desire it and want more! Occasionally we make medicinal honey, where bees have been housed around specific trees or shrubs. It tends to taste like a parent's gentle scolding: a bit of a bite, but you know it's good for you.

We've also been making soap! The soap contains these things: honey, beeswax, moringa, neem, aloe vera, and love.Bathing with it is like bathing in children’s un-ironic hope for the future. It foams well and leaves you moisturized and ready for the day (or the evening, you lucky dog you!) I’ve been told that it’s the best soap in Ghana, but that’s only the biased opinion of everyone whose ever used it.

One other small project was I gifted five moringa trees each to all the churches in my village. The idea is they will care for them, and people can come and take seeds to plant their own if they want to. I think it will work because no one wants to be the “bad” church that screwed up the moringa! Competition is always a great motivator.

In other news, I just returned from the All Volunteers conference in Ho, Volta Region. It was a blast to see all the vols from all over the country and relax in a nice hotel with a pool. But don’t think it was all party: this conference was like a mullet. There was business up front the whole week, most of it HIV/AIDS related. But really, it was the relaxing that was the best! We had a prom, talent show, and more. And it was always a pool party. But for some reason, people kept throwing me in the pool!!! Annoying, but who cares! Forgive, and party on!

Racially Yours

Obroni! White Man! Mister White! Not a day goes by that I am not deliberately called out on the color of my skin. Even those who know my name will still refer to me as "The White Man." So, let's be honest here, I do certainly stand out within my community. People, especially children, will just stare at me forever like I have some kind of bizarre and fasinating deformity. Even the one-eyed polio cripple calls me out on my skin and stares at me like I'm some kind of freak. Since that guy has a wife, I can tell you that it's not really all that big a deal to be "differently abled" in Ghana than in the USA. Unless, of course, you are the color of a sunburned ghost.

In the US, I used to never make children run in terror from me. Here, the parents think it's hilarious that thier kids freak out at the site of me. Since I don't like kids all that much, I must admit that I enjoy the fact that my skin is small child repellent. And that there is the beginning of my understanding and acceptance of my race here in Ghana.

There is a lot of emphasis on volunteers integrating into their community. The truth is, we can never fully integrate; we are always the "other." This remains true for even the African-Americans who come here, but for the purposes of this prose, I'm going to talk about whitey.

See, all of us generally hate being the token white dude in our communities. We are expected to be rich, to be able to hand out visas, to not know how to do "African" things like eat food with our hands or sweep with a broom. You do your best to get people to call you by your name and treat you as an equal, but it's never 100% successful. Perhaps most people bitch and moan about it. Some ignore it with buddha-like tranquility. I say: embrace it!

Hell yes, I am the White Man in my community! I eat spaghetti, treat my cat like a baby, and more often than not carry my things in a backpack instead of on my head. You want to give me the front seat in the Taxi? Sure, thanks! Want to dash me 40 oranges? Super! Brother, you want to hold my hand as you show me around town? Ummm, Ok, why not? You're giving me your sister or daughter to marry and satisfy me? Here I draw the line. I only marry for love and a little bit for good looks and cooking skills or to get free stuff in market. A man must still have some sense of decency in this mad world.

Part of this job is cultural exchange, so I feel it's important to try to teach Ghanaians about things that white people do. Unfortunately, it's limited to things that I actually CAN do here. So, as much as I'd like to introduce celebrity dance competition, I do the best with the tools I have. So far I have taught my village that White People: enjoy doing crossword puzzles, often grow flowers in pots instead of the soil, use too many dishes in the preperation and consumption of food, eat PB&J when all our dishes get dirty, and sleep in. So as you can see, I've been very busy at my site, teaching the way of the white man.

However, race in Ghana is never a really simple thing. In one part of the country I've been mistaken for Chinese, which means that all the people greet me by saying "ching-chong, buy orange!" I wish I was making this up, but it's true. All I can do is just ching-chong back and hope that I got a good price on that orange (which, by the way, is often quite delicious.) Ghanaians also often refer to white people as being red in color. This is only true of annoying Dutch voluntourists who try to get tan as fast as possible but fail in a bad way during thier 5 day "Save Africa" trip, but becuase they overwhelmingly stick out, they tend to represent the lot of us.

So until a later time, stay healthy and eat well!

Big Happenings

Crazy times, my friends, crazy times...

Currently I am a trainer for the new Peace Corps training group currently in Ghana. These young buttons are full of idealistic vigor and visions of grand works of development. It's my job to teach them about the environment in Ghana and help them navigate through their new PC life. So far I have found them all to be good people, and I look forward to having them as my colleagues. Although my own group has impeccable taste in fashion and music, as well as a gourmand's eye for local delicacies, I'm sure this newer, somehow dorkier group will fit in just fine.

I have been experiencing a rash of ultimate bad luck/good luck lately. It all started when I went on the Environment training group field trip. We took all these sweeties up to the north of Ghana and toured our way down. My brushes with fate began when we stopped for lunch in a town called Techiman. I ordered Banku with Grasscutter, which is a delicious jungle rodent. They never brought me my food, and finally when everyone was getting ready to leave, they brought it out. Not only was everyone inconvenienced by this, but I got chewy goat skin instead of grasscutter (-1)! Not a big deal yet. On our way to our first stop over, the Tamele Peace Corps Sub-Office, or TSO, it started to rain. My stuff was supposedly protected under a tarp at the top of the PC car. However, when we got to TSO my bag was partly soaked. For some reason only the pair of pants and my underwear got wet, but somehow the wetness was concentrated around the crotch areas, so it looked like each one had been pissed in (-1). Because it was still rainy outside I had to hang all my stuff inside, which made it look like a pee-pants party had gone on with great ferocity. Luckily it all dried by the next day, so no worries. The next day was a blast! We got to visit my good friends Kirsten and JJ's site. They have these awesome gardens they are working on and also work with a group of dance-happy women(+1). We also got to take pito, a local brew made from millet and eat some TZ with stew (+1). After words we went to the Paga crocodile pond. Paga is a town that protects it's crocodiles due to an old legend where a chief's life was saved by one of these beasts. Part of the show is to feed the crocs live chickens and they are so docile you can even sit on one of them! Real cool (+1)! Afterwards we headed back to our hotel for the evening. We went out for drinks that evening to relax and everything was chill. When we left the spot we all went to get egg sandwiches before going to bed. However, I got stopped by a no-nonsense immigration officer and hassled for half an hour before I was able to shake him and his non-existent threats to my freedom of movement in the country (-1). However, by then everyone got egg sandwiches and was leaving, so worst of all, I didn't even get one (-1)! So all right, to bed. The next day we were headed off to Techiman to go to a monastery where they practice organic farming. However, as we were getting ready to leave, the PC car ran over my camera (-1)! This is a $500 Nikon digital SLR, so it's not small potatoes. Although the photo card is fine, the camera is very very ill right now.

Techiman. We stayed at this monastery that was full of giant rocks and boulders and such that you can climb on. The place is so peaceful and fun to explore, it makes you want to give up all your priceless possesions, say a nice camera, and join the order and live there (+2). The food was also very good, full of vegetables and fruit and even cake (+1)! On our first full day there we went to the Boabeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary nearby. Some of the monkeys are quite tame and come within inches of you, while others jump around majestically in the tall trees. The forest is protected, so you can see what the jungle of Ghana is supposed to look like when undisturbed (+1). We also got to see the volunteer Greg Yeich's site, where he taught about sack gardening and other things. I ditched and took a rest (+0). Then back to the monastery for dinner. The dinner looked sublime: fresh fruit, cakes, and spaghetti with REAL CHEESE! A king's feast! However, my body decided that time was perfect to come down with the vomit-diarrhea combo of death. I was literally crapping and puking pure water every 20 minutes (-1). The next morning the training group all went out to the market to buy stuff while I recovered. Luckily I was miraculously 85% better by the time we left, thanks to that little white bit of magic, Immodium.

So then home. When we got back to the training site, I was ready for some well deserved rest, as well as the shirts I had get tailored for me by the first best tailor in Addo Nkwanta. Unfortunately they weren't ready. Sigh... (-.5). Over all, not a bad trip. Total Score: .5! All right, a better than average trip!

A few days after the field trip, all PCV's in Ghana were invited to attend Barack Obama's farewell speech at the airport (+2). It's nice that PC Ghana let's us do these things once in a while, and super awesome that the Ambassador here, Donald Teitelbaum loves Peace Corps Volunteers. First Ghana President John Atta Mills gave a speech, and the Prez Obama. He gave PC a shout out, which sent all of us PCVs into a frenzy(+1). Afterwards, he went around and shook everyone's hand. That's a dangerous thing to do with so many PCVs, and I'm willing to bet President Obama now has Giardia. I got to shake Michelle Obama's hand and get a Chicago shout out(+1). Us Chi-towners have to stick together, you know? I then spent the night a the home of a senior USAID officer and his wife. I got to take a hot(!) shower and eat the best pancakes in the world the next morning(+1). Over all, a good weekend. Total score: +5!

And to top off the entire week, my slut-cat, Bella, had kittens AGAIN. From two different fathers as well. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't my suspicion that she's also smoking again. So, three little balls of bad judgment for me to deal with again besides the sluttiness of my cat. Blurgh.

That's it for now, take care and eat well!

I want to recognize our Peace Corps volunteers who are here. You know, Ghana was the very first nation to host young people from the Peace Corps. And for decades, our two nations have formed vital partnerships and lasting friendships because of this program. So all of you in the Peace Corps, you are doing an outstanding job and we're proud of you. - Barack Obama, July 11, 2009

Yeah, that thing in the background? That's Air Force One.

Sometimes people may wonder why it takes so long for me to update. Well, sometimes there is no electricity. This is why I can say that Ghana is for lovers: you'll have so many candlelit dinners you'll vomit roses. You'll also start to go to bed at 8pm, just like your beloved grandma, becuase it's dark and you are lonely and have nothing better to do. So let me add: Ghana is for lovers and for grandparents.

The rainy season is here! After a full winter of excruciating 80-90 degree days and fair sunny skies, I am delivered into days of constant rainfall. The humidity is giving that extra 10%, thus remaining at 110% for the long haul. Some things that have gotten moldy and mildewy: Dry clothes hanging inside my home, my supposedly well sealed shelf stable margerine, wooden matches inside the matchbox, my kitchen table, the two foot section that rings the bottom of my home, and my dress shoes, but not any other shoes for some reason.

The unpaved roads have now turned into mud with a slickness like a frozen river. Although I haven't fallen yet, those who do end up sadly looking like they crapped themselves. From this, however, you can create a strategy: If you have ameobic dysentary and, ahem, couldn't make it, you could just fall in the mud and and receive sympathy instead of embarrassment. I haven't had need to try this yet, but if I do, I'll let you know what my success level is.

The main excitement of the rainy season is the arrival of the grafted mango. For a few months we have been getting these tiny yellow local mangoes which are tasty enough, but stringy and not the most satisfying. Last week I bought a grafted mango the size of a cow heart for under one dollar. It tasted like your wedding night and almost made me pass out from its greatness. Yes, feel free to envy me here. For you science buffs: a grafted mango is when they take a green branch from a cultivar that produces the desired variety and graft it onto the root stock of the small local variety for hardiness.

That's it for now! Take care and eat well.

June Topic: Food

I'm going to try to do a monthly topic in addition to any other posts I do. These will be generally informative. This months topic: FOOD!

The standard Ghanaian dish is a ball of starch in a bowl of oil. Sounds yummy! Some brief descriptions:

Fufu: Take yams, cocoyam, or plantains and cassava together, and lightly boil. Then pound into a thick sticky ball of slime. Typically eaten with groundnut soup or light soup, the method is to pull of a piece about the size of a large shooter marble, dip in the sauce, and swallow whole without chewing (or gagging, for those trying it for the first time.)

Ampesi: Boil large chunks of yams, cocoyam or plantains. Put into a soup or stew, pull off a piece, and eat.

Omo Tuo: The ever popular rice ball, my friends! Can be eaten with anything and everything, and often is. Simply pull off a piece, and eat! Typically served in baseball to 16 inch softball size, two or three at a time.

Banku: What happens if you let maize ferment in a pot for three days and then pound into a thick sour mush? You get banku of course! This is actually really tasty, but it's an acquired taste for some. Often served with light soup or okro stew.

Tuo Zaafi (TZ): TZ, pronounced tee-zed, is almost like banku. Instead, regular old corn meal is boiled into a thick paste. Typically eaten with okro stew. This dish is much more popular in the north of Ghana than in the south.

Groundnut Soup: Ah, how delicious you are, GS! Made of groundnuts (that's peanuts to most, monkey nuts to the weirdos) and groundnut oil. Eating this gives you huge pectoral muscles and increases your tolerance for Celine Dion ballads. Easily one the best things in Ghana to eat.

Light Soup: Made from some a little palm oil, a lot of peppers, water and some canned tomatoes usually. Not the heartiest, but cheap and easy. Sometimes it is so hot and spicy you can hear time and see how you're going to die.

Palmnut Soup: Made with the pulp and oil from the fruit of the oil palm. When cooked right, it's greasy, oily, slick, and viscous- and incredibly delicious. Eating too much gives the average non-Ghanaian a bad case of Kofi's Revenge, so moderation is best.

Okro Stew: The main ingredient is okra (okro in Ghana), which basically turns the entire bowl of stew into a giant pool of mucous. Since it is typically eaten with TZ, which is also a type of slime, it's like the grossest thing you can think of: cat vomit. It's actually quite good, though, and eating it teaches you how to be a forgiving and kind person.

Jollof Rice: Rice boiled with tomato paste. Actually one of the worst dishes in Ghana, it's also the most loved by white people. Typical, eh?

Fried Rice: Same as they make it in Panda Express. Really.

Mportoporto: When you take yams, mash them with light soup and then serve them in light soup, you get Mportoporto! This is one high class dish and it's considered such a delicacy it's only eaten in a tuxedo.

Kenky: Similar to TZ, but it is steamed corn meal cooked to a very thick consistency. Often eaten with "pepe," or pepper sauce, made with peppers, onions, and sometimes tomatoes (yes, it's salsa!) It's a super cheap meal, but eating too much of it instills a hatred for all of God's creation.

Fried Fish: These are made from any fish species that can be eaten, regardless of size, bones, or flavor. They go into EVERYTHING THAT CAN POSSIBLY BE COOKED. So... if you hate fish, you might starve in Ghana, since everything tastes like fish, even the chicken.

Shitto: Made from ground fried fish and peppers, this garnishing sauce is often added to rice dishes. It's also a powerful antiseptic.

Wakye: Beans and rice, baby! Hot and spicy and often eaten for breakfast and lunch, it will also give you the worst gas you've ever had.

Rice Porridge: Take the left over rice from last nights meal, add sugar, hot water, and milk powder. Filling, but only for an hour.

Fido, Mitzy, Bossie, Micky, Porky, Henrietta and Satan: That's dog, cat, cow, rat, pig, chicken and goat. All are eaten in some degree in Ghana, although fish is the most prevalent. Chicken and goat come next, with the others eaten on rarer occasion due to their higher cost. People also eat bush meat, which can be a lot of different things.

There are yet other things in Ghana that people eat, but these are the big ones. Feel free to add on to the list if you know any others. But as a general rule, all the soups and stews have a LOT of oil and a served with a large among of starch. But don't be fooled! It's all really quite good, and most people from the west like at least a few of the things (yes, even dog...)

The Beginning

This is my blog of my African Adventure. It is not intended for the very young, the frail, or nursing mothers. If you have any phobias, like the fear of mysterious wonder, I'd advise you to saddle your horse and prepare to flee at a moments notice. Why this warning? Because things happen in Africa, baby- mysteriously wonderful things!

To prepare you for what you are about to read, here is the cast of Peace Corps Ghana, Casimir Edition:

Me: Your humble narrator: 28 years old; degrees in Anthropology and German, working as an Environmental volunteer. Likes: chopping stuff, chicks, beer, and my kitty.

Konkonte: My little teenaged kitten, thinks she knows everything. Her hobbies include sleeping and meowing. She enjoys applying chaos math in her quest to quantify cat behavior.

Bella: Inherited from a previous volunteer, Bella is the town slut cat. If there's a a tom, she's done him, and if there's a bastard cat child, she's had it. Reeking of cat musk, she prowls nightly for her next hit, cut, or joint. Her daughter, Konkonte, does not know her who her own father is, but it's rumoured to be White-Cat.

Chicken Hoard: Constantly replenishing their stock, they are unstoppable. By the time you hear the cock's crow, it's already too late. Their secret weapon: their near insatiable urge to crap everywhere and on everything.

Goat Cabal: Their only mission is to eat everything living in the stealthiest way possible. Their ultimate goal? Your first born child.

Ghanaian Neighbors: The hardest working people in the world. I doff my hat to you all. Some or your kids are lazy nogoodniks, however. They will be introduced in a case by case basis as is warrented.

So these are the people to know- but be prepared for surprise cameos as we go on.

Take care and eat well!