Finished with Term 2!

It is looking especially beautiful today- Cool breeze, plenty of sunshine for my drying clothes, and ecstatic children enjoying their first week of the school holiday. It must be murder for the Form 3s, who are right now getting in a few more hours of test prep before they take tomorrow’s BECE. Aside from my neighbor’s outdoor kitchen that blew down, one would never suspect that just last night another of Ghana’s tropical storms barreled through our small town.

Thursday marked the end of Term 2 of the school year, and on Saturday I finally finished recording grades. Over the break, many of my Peace Corps friends will be doing some travelling, some running around Ghana, others going to Togo, Niger, Egypt, etc., and at least two of my friends are spending a few weeks in the States. My plans do not include any of the above- I’m strapped for cash and holding out for when my brother (and maybe others?) come here in August. We PCVs get two vacation days a month, and I’ve been saving up every one so far for a nice trip up to Northern Ghana, possibly Mali, and a two week sojourn in Florida to see family and friends. Anyway, I have enough on my plate as it is until June- I think I’ll make the most of this holiday in Otumi.

For April, I was looking forward to having a Passover cedar in northern Ghana with my friends Corey, Jack, and a few others. These plans took a strange turn where I ended up spending the Jewish holiday hang gliding over Nkawkaw, while Corey had a BBQ up in Tamale. I guess the temptations of flying and eating burgers trumped a Jewish tradition thousands of years old.

Each Easter, Ghana’s Tourist Board sponsors hang gliding in the Nkawkaw mountains (about 3 hours from my site), where ten hang gliding pilots strap reluctant passengers to themselves, then run off cliffs and into the air. There are other pilots who go solo, but for people like me, we pay for the tandem ride. Peace Corps volunteers have been coming to the event for years, and many of us were looking forward to this year’s event. Unfortunately, it was rumored that the event was cancelled, so PCVs started making other plans for their four week Easter vacation. I went on the website for the event and contacted someone about the cancellation. I found out that it wasn’t exactly cancelled, it was just not being sponsored by the Ghanaian government this year. The event was originally created by the NPP party, and since the NDC party came into power this year, the event was put to the side. Instead, this year’s event would go on, but on a much smaller scale and privately funded. What was supposed to be the 5^th Annual Easter Hang Gliding Event, with ten tandem pilots and loads of people dissolved into a makeshift event of one tandem pilot, about 5 solo flyers, a few eager participants like myself, and a handful of onlookers.

With me were Stephen and Kyle, and all three of us were feeling keen on getting into the air. To make a long story short, only Stephen and I got to go, and Kyle had to get back to site early. The line to get on the hang glider was long, and with only one tandem and an hour in between each flight, we were there for hours just talking to people milling about and watching the take offs. We did meet some Germans, Brits, South Africaaaans, a Swiss fella, and a few Ghanaians (one of which was an ambitious university student whose dream was to marry a white woman).

These awesome, and might I add fine, German girls let Stephen and I go before them since we had to get back to our sites and they were staying in town. Stephen went first, and I regret laughing my ass off when he took off- he kind of went stiff during take-off and this looked hilarious. Why I regret this was my take off was no better, in fact it was much much worse- with the simple press of a button, Stephen can play this scene over and over and over again. What happened was this: Before taking off, the pilot, Ed from San Fran, would take us through the motions on the ground- I’m in front, so I lead. I run. I keep running, even as I’m in the air (like Santa’s reindeer- I have the big red nose to go with the part). Fin. Did I mention I’m running about 100 yards down a declining slope that ends at a sheer drop off the top of a mountain? After Stephen got back, it was my turn to fly and Stephen’s turn to laugh. I got into position, and immediately when I put my first foot forward, a gust of wind pulled the wing back and both my feet were in the air- so much for running. The problem was we needed to be running and going forward, and the instant my feet hit the ground a little farther from where we started I ran like hell- I remember the pilot saying something like ‘We need to be going like 12mph to get this thing into the air properly’. This continued two more times where just when I started to get enough speed, I would be in the air and my legs would be rendered useless. It seriously looked like we were going to fall.

Things started to look up as we got past the cliff’s edge and were riding the wind to get higher elevation. I can’t describe how beautiful everything was up there. I thought to myself- why don’t I own a hang glider? I looked down at an ant-sized Stephen while gliding over mountains and marveling at everything under my feet. One snag though- my testicles were being crushed by a harness that kept me attached to the rest of the glider. I had no idea how to fix the problem, and I was too afraid to fiddle with anything with the fear that I might unfasten something. So as great as the flight was, my privates were in a vice. I got dizzy and nauseous, but at least I got the pilot laughing. I had a hard time taking pictures since I concentrated more on shifting my weight, but I got a few in, including one showing my nether-region fiasco. We touched down in a soccer field, and that was that. After the flight, Stephen and I hung out with the some of the Brits we met at the event. They were volunteers as well, and they lived just a few minutes away from where we took off. There were some serious parties going on, and I was shocked to see how upscale the Nkawkaw area was- people were dressed for success, there were BMWs, Cadillacs, and Mercedes on the road, and the houses were huge. There is definitely money in Nkawkaw.

Later, my headmaster would tell me that the people who come from that town (the Kwahus) redistribute their wealth and help each other, unlike places like Otumi where if someone makes it big, they usually leave and keep their money for themselves. He said sometimes people from these towns are afraid others will curse them because of their newly acquired wealth. Aside from the cursing bit, this fact seems to hold for Otumi- I’ve talked to several people now in my town who haven’t heard from brothers or sisters who grew up in Otumi and made it big. At least two people here have siblings who are doctors in America- one is a brain surgeon, and I’m helping the guy get in contact with his brother through email. Even the headmaster has a brother in New York who made millions after coming to the US in the 70s. He is what I deem a potential STARS sponsor.

With great sorrow, I also must add that my grandfather passed away last week, and I learned this shocking news just after touching down from hang gliding. I had known a week before that he had to go to the hospital, but after several phone calls following the day he was driven to the hospital, I was convinced he would pull through. My top concern before leaving the US for Ghana was whether or not I’d ever see either of my grandparents again. I’m very close to them, and since it is difficult to speak with them over the phone, I’ve only been able to communicate through letters. I’m surprised I didn’t remain despondent when we went out with the Brits, but having Stephen around and talking to my family definitely helped. When I got back, my the headmaster at my school also did a good job of cheering me up. A friend back home suggested I write something for his memorial, and I think that definitely helped as well. I wanted to go back, but this would have made things much more stressful for my family. I wish I could have seen him one more time…

The day following my hang gliding experience, I was to attend a teacher workshop in the district capital with my counterpart and another teacher. Three teachers from each school in the district were supposed to take part in one of three 3-day workshops: social studies, math, and science. I attended the math workshops, my counterpart the science workshops, and the other teacher did social studies. The workshops were on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and school got out on the last day of the conference. I was upset that I’d have to miss the last days of school, which is when I wanted to go over the answers to the students’ finals, but what can you do? On the bright side, I get more insight into the education system in Ghana, and since Stephen’s in my district, I would get to see him as well.

The first day of the workshop was alright, although there was no sign of either my counterpart or the other teacher (we went separately). I showed up a bit early to say hi to someone I knew who worked at the education office- Martin, my old Peace Corps trainer, and I had a feeling that since it said on the notice that the workshops started at 9, Martin and I probably had all morning to talk. Of course the meeting got started at 10:30, and once we got started we moved into the new education reforms which went into effect at the beginning of this school year. The district director of education came and gave a speech, and that was pretty much it for the first day. Stephen was in the science workshop, so we had to meet up later and compare notes. Both of us got stares and childish yells of Obruni by many of the teachers at the workshop (over a hundred of them at each one). I recounted to Stephen how over half the teachers in the room were loud and obnoxious and would try to finish the speaker’s sentences. I’m not kidding when I say my students are much better behaved than most of the teachers that showed up.

The last two days of the workshop went downhill. First off, my counterpart was nowhere to be found. I found out later he skipped out and went to the Volta Region miles away. The other teacher showed up, and we both agreed that these workshops were a waste of time and money (Stephen said an NGO was footing the bill). Instead of focusing on teaching methods (which was quickly glossed over), the teachers in the math workshop argued over sample math questions that I solved in my head in a few seconds. I am not kidding. I wanted to tear my eyes out. Mind you, our workshop took place in a JHS classroom, with other students around, and teachers were being loud and roudy. A teacher behind me would shout random nonsense like “Random sample!” if the coordinator asked someone in the audience to speak. One was making a big deal and almost crying because someone stole his juice box (this is not a lie). Another teacher kept getting up, paced the room, and at one point spat a mouthful of water at the back blackboard to make other teachers laugh. Sneaking into Stephen’s workshop, I saw the same deal- here too the hooting and hollering was in full swing. It was INSANE. If these people weren’t responsible for students’ futures, I would think this workshop was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Instead I glared at the teachers as they laughed and talked while someone was trying to speak at the front. I could see some of the students shaking their head in disappointment, and I exchanged looks of embarrassment with some of the older teachers.

On the last day of the workshop, while going over our notes of the stupidity we saw, Stephen and I encountered the same exact situation: During lunch, I noticed a single female teacher was carrying the complementary lunches to the rest of the teachers, even though 95% of the room was male. I sat in my seat and just stared, trying to think if I should get up to help her or what. I didn’t know if she volunteered to do it, or if I’d be insulting her in some way if I got up to help. I at least offered to, and she smiled and said it was alright. But it bothered me the entire time. Meanwhile, the exact same thing was happening on Stephen’s side, and he made the same offers and had the same reservations.

I was able to be there for at least some of the last day of school before the break. Since I’m so far behind, I offered to have students come directly to my house, where we could sit on the front porch and I could help catch them up on new material or go over the basics if they preferred. I also announced that we would likely be doing a World Map painting on a side wall this break since our Periodic Table painting was such a success. At least two teachers in my town will hang around, and I think this time they’ll help with the project.

In my last post, I talked about getting a bike and riding it miles out into the bush. This turned out to be a very bad idea. The headmaster, along with some of the teachers and students, all warned me that it is too dangerous in the bush, that there are people who kill others for their blood and what-not. I blew it off as them trying to scare me. After their warning though the trails seemed to feel much darker o ride on. Finally, a group of farmers I met on one of the trails echoed what everyone at school said: don’t go on the trails, at least don’t go alone and unarmed- take a student or a friend. Apparently someone was recently murdered in the bush out around where I was riding. A few people in town confirmed this, and after that day I’ve stopped riding into the bush. I shudder thinking back to all the abandoned or isolated homes I came across in the middle of the forest.

After discontinuing my rides into the bush, I thought I was again safe so long as I didn’t go out there. Of I was wrong. Just a week later, one of my female students was chased down by three men in a taxi while walking home from night classes. At the same time a woman in my town was hit over the head with a pestle and robbed in the night. The teachers and I had to stop night classes for the students’ safety, and now we are trying to figure out when students should come for computer lessons and private tutoring. I reported the incidents to Peace Corps, and someone from safety and security dropped by to check on me and speak with some of the locals. I asked if they could issue guns to PCVs under special circumstances, but I was told no, they didn’t. Guess I’m just going to have to watch my back and be smart.

Two weeks ago I went to Accra for STARS fundraising, where I went in person to a few businesses to find sponsors. A few people were very helpful, and although I didn’t get any donations then and there, I think some of the companies I went to might be able to help. On my list of places to go was the Ministry of Education. In my head I pictured a modern looking building with busy people walking through corridors with important documents tucked under their arm. This was not the case. When I got there, I thought I had the wrong place because even though there was a large sign saying “Ministry of Education”, all I could see was an old, sad-looking U-shaped building. Not many people were out, and it took me a while to find the person I was looking for since there were no maps (I used the piles of old furniture as land marks). I talked to three people about getting speakers and sponsors, but no one seemed to be helpful. In the end, I felt like I needed to donate money to the Ministry of Education. I plan on going back to Accra for follow ups and I need to talk to a few more companies.

Also in April I went to a funeral in town, had dinner for two separate families, and mailed out about 70 or so pen pal letters my students had written. The funeral was alright, I wore my 8 yard funeral cloth commonly adorned by the men. I saw the chief and several people at the funeral, which was held in the center of town. The deceased was an older man, a retired fire chief for another town, with tons of children and grandchildren. He seemed to be well-liked by the rest of Otumi. Since he died at an old age, the family wore white, the color of happiness, to celebrate his life. Had he been younger, the family would have worn black and red.

I went with the family of one of my students who sort of took me in as one of their own, which is fine by me because their food is delicious and they’re a nice bunch to be around. After the funeral, I offered to cook them American food the following week. They took me up on the offer, and after about two hours of preparing and cooking pasta with contummere (spinach) and garlic bread, we sat and ate in the confines of my home. It was a successful dinner party, with 5 people at the table.

The other dinner did not go so well. For a long time I swore that I would make a meal for one of the women in town (the one who wants to go jogging and practice boxing) since she is so nice to me and almost daily has a student deliver to me complementary fruits, snacks, and home-made doughnut-type things. Her father tells me stories about when he was a soldier, and her husband is an alright guy as well. When they tried my food, a curry dish made from scratch, they had the worst looks on their faces. The onions I caramelized and in my opinion were delicious were too sweet for their palettes and ruined the whole meal. I was upset, but it was also amusing to watch the husband try in earnest politeness to finish his plate with a disgusted look on his face. So much for caramelizing anything for Ghanaians. We talked into the night, and realizing the “crime wave” in our town, headed back to my house. I need to mention the peculiar name they gave to their cat: Mr. Quiddles.

Lastly, my students had fun writing pen pal letters, and I finally sent them out two weeks ago. Now we play the waiting game of having them arrive in the states and receiving response letters. Along with the letters, I also made a Power Point with pictures of my school and around Ghana. Some of the pictures were actually taken by other Peace Corps volunteers to promote eco-tourism in Ghana. These first letters were more introductory than anything, and I found on the Peace Corps websites good lesson plans using the pen pals letters (i.e.- HIV/AIDS discussions, cross-cultural dialogues, day-to-day life, what sharing means, etc.). My students keep coming up to me and asking if the response letters came yet, and I expect them to keep asking until they finally arrive four to five weeks from now.

That’s it for today. I’ve got to help write a section for a JHS booklet we’re making for the new volunteers coming in this summer, and I’m hoping to crank out a section on PCV/ school staff relations. Of course I have to plug the website for STARS donations. Below is a link to the STARS PCPP that went through. Please at least click on the link and read about the fund raising we are doing for STARS. Again, this is the conference where about 60 high school students meet for 5 days in Kumasi to learn about HIV/AIDS, Science, Technology, tertiary education, as well as participate in fun activities and hear from successful Ghanaians speaking at the event. It’s coming up in June, and it relies heavily on outside contributions. This is the thing I’ve been walking around Accra for, so in essence if you contribute, I wouldn’t have to walk so much from office building to office building. Please give what you can; it is a very good cause.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=641-261

Wine

Dierberg Pinot Noir Santa Maria Valley 2005

Music

Hold On! I’m Comin’- Sam and Dave

The Kids Are Alright- The Who

It’s Your Life- Lenny Kravitz

If I Never See Your Face Again- Maroon 5

Mad Season- Matchbox 20

Pretty Vacant- Sex Pistols

Shout- Sean Paul

Nkawkaw (This is the Brit's dorm/house)

A tree blocking the way up to the hang gliding site

The hang gliding site

Stephen's take-off

The problem

Looking down at our take-off point

Where we landed

"Kyle, check this out..."

Going to a funeral

Making fufu

The pictures I sent with the pen pal letters

Peace Corps Eco-Tourism pics sent with the pen pal letters

<------On The Move------>

The past few weeks have kept me in a constant state of motion – I’ve been restructuring my curriculum plans for this and next term as well as sweating over STARS fund raising. Both have me a little on edge, but then again I like a good challenge. Unfortunately I’m starting to realize that it really doesn’t matter how hard I work here; any real progress is contingent on the choices those around me make, leaving me feeling powerless. Case in point- There was another fight between a teacher and a student, and I’m pinning the teacher for trying to get the student to fight him. We had a staff meeting, and I tried to communicate that when teachers don’t show up to school and lack any real system for discipline at the school, then we are just welcoming chaos. Hell, I was a terrible student in my day, and that was with a sound school system There was a time when I’d lie to teachers about tending the family lobster farm, sneak into friends’ classes, blow up projectors, give fake names to teachers [Taj], wear togas to school, and get into fake fights with my brother- having teachers around kept my options limited. How far would you have gone if adults capriciously showed up to school each week?

Classes are still being cancelled- tomorrow, students are collecting bamboo from the bush. I spend hours strategizing how I can make up that lost time, since there are a babillion topics students are responsible for “learning” in the syllabus, and I haven’t taught a third of what I I should have covered by now. I’ve been teaching at the school for six months, and I still face the same issues I started with. No one considers my suggestions- I’m thinking a little laziness, frustration, and lack of care is getting in the way of progress.

Last week, four out of the seven teachers that were supposed to be at the school were nowhere to be found, sending a strong message to my students- no one gives a shit about their education. Know who else doesn’t care? Answer: The Ghana Education System. GES not only piles on a ton of topics the students are supposed to learn, they make nit-picky tests that in some ways have blatant grammatical errors. Last week the Form 3s took their mock BECE, which will prepare them to take the real test that helps decide whether or not they get into a good high school, if they go at all. The questions, might I add, look for minute information that requires the students to memorize, more than anything, random bodies of knowledge in science. I’m sure it’s the same for other subjects as well.

As a science teacher, my philosophy in education is to have my students think critically, question the world, and discover the big picture through science; teaching in Ghana makes this incredibly difficult. In fact, right now I am torn. GES wants teachers to practically have students memorize incredibly hard concepts and facts in science, leaving almost no room for students to think on their own. Last week I accepted that there is no way I will be able to cover everything in the science syllabus- cancelled classes, teaching to a large percentage of students who are struggling with the material (and in some cases reading and writing), and parents’ lack of concern about their child’s education has put me so far behind that I am left wondering what good I am here. I want my students to have a good future, one where they go to high school and maybe even go on to college. At the same time I flat out refuse to just write facts on the board and have students memorize them, which is how it seems to be around here. I’m stuck. I’ve been trying to find some way to teach the way I like to AND prepare my students for that idiotic exam, but so far I’ve been going too slow and by now no matter what I do I won’t be able to cover everything in the syllabus.

I’ve talked to the headmaster and other teachers about this, and they told me that’s just how it is here. My headmaster told me there used to be someone high up in GES who actually gave a damn about the students and did things smart; in fact the guy went on to work with several African nations to improve education throughout the continent. But he left behind a broken system here. I know it could be much worse, but I tell you now it could be much much better.

I’ve been amassing a list of names tied to GES, as well as a list of criticisms; one day, probably when I’m done with my service here, I can shoot…. I mean talk… to the right people and maybe put things on a better track, at least with the syllabus. I’ve talked with teachers about several problems with the education system here- teachers not getting paid on time, headmasters having little power at the school, a severe lack of resources and in some cases teachers, no accountability- these are real, I see them at my school and other schools I’ve visited. I wouldn’t know the first place to start in making recommendations to GES; but in terms of what is taught and how students are tested in science, oh man do I have a lot to say. Too bad my current students have to learn from such a terrible syllabus made by people who probably have no idea what schools are like in most of Ghana outside the major cities. And that’s it for my rant on Ghanaian education for this entry.

Night classes continue to have a good number of students, though lately many classes were cancelled due to freakish storms and power outages. One storm unloaded pea-sized hail on Otumi, and the power was out for the rest of the day. Recently, there’s been a lot of rain- I guess the rainy season has started, and I didn’t even get to start a garden. My headmaster and I have been talking about fixing up the garden we have at school, but that means about $100 in repairs on a sturdy anti-goat and pig fence. We did attempt to weed a small area of farmland, but while heading out to do the work, my headmaster suddenly stopped, pointed up to the top of a papaya tree, and instructed the students not to move another inch- at the top was a good sized cobra. Immediately people started to freak, and reacted when they realized my fascination with snakes (I remind students to call me if they ever see a live one). The first step I took towards the snake sent all the students pulling me back and away from the tree. Mind you I was in no danger and nowhere near the snake’s spitting or striking distance, but I kept my distance to put everyone at ease. Then the stones started flying. A student with a slingshot got a dead-on hit with a rock to the snake’s head, probably killing or concussing it. This did not stop students from hurling rocks at the tree until the serpent finally fell in a twitching heap on the ground. I just stared at the body, dead but not dead, synapses firing with the effect of random sections moving around, giving me the idea to later hold an unofficial class on muscle fibers and nerve cells.

Anyway, night classes- The deal is that students and teachers meet at the school from 7 to 9 to use the computers, chat, or play/brawl. Since school gets out at 3PM, we all get a good four hours to unwind, or in the students’ case, help their parents with cooking and cleaning. It’s usually the students that show up in the evening that show the most enthusiasm to learn, so as long as they’re interested, I’ll keep coming. Next week, the headmaster and two of our teachers will have a typing race for the students, using the school computer, my laptop, and my headmaster’s computer. I’ve also been saving random pictures from the internet (PG you idiot), from people skiing off mountains to giant squids. Teaching chemistry is much easier with CGI pictures to go along with the lesson.

I finally have working internet, although it’s as slow as molasses here- like 56K slow. I’ll just have to grin and bear it- it’s better than nothing. Do you remember those days where you want to load a page or a picture, and every minute adds an inch to your loading image? That’s what I’ve got. For those students who are extra good in class, I’m thinking of letting them use the internet and maybe open an email account. Perhaps a correspondence program is not too far off. The problem is I only get to download/upload 500mb per month on the plan I have, and the amount of time it takes to load up a page can take all day if students are going to use it. These kinks aren’t too bad in the grand scheme of things.

Recently I’ve had students write pen pal letters to high schoolers at Rickards High, the school I interned at in Tallahassee. I’m in contact with the teacher there, and in April I’ll be sending those letters on their way. The students are writing about themselves and Ghana, along with questions they have for the high schools back in Tally. The students are very excited about this. I’ve read some of the letters, and I’m impressed with some of the students’ writing abilities. Sometimes they write something like “Do you like to eat fufu?”, and I would have to explain that most Americans don’t know some of the things here.

Like I was saying at the beginning of this entry, STARS fundraising also has my head laden with anxiety, an annoying passenger behind me kicking my seat and saying “So far no word from your sponsors Darren. No word from anyone’s sponsors. Grants aren’t looking promising. What’s going to happen with this year’s conference Darren?” In April I plan on going to Accra to ask for sponsorship in person, and I’m hoping things will start looking up for all us STARS fund raisers.

A few weeks ago I got a bike, a Frankenstein bike if you’d like recommended by my friend Mike. Actually, it was Stephen who intended on purchasing a bike, and I came with him to Koforidua to shop around. He knew this guy David volunteering for Bikes Not Bombs (based in Boston), an NGO that supplies cheap bikes to countries around the globe. A huge shipment came in, and Stephen wanted to check out what the place had to offer. After a two hour trip to Kof, Stephen and I walked to an inconspicuous storehouse tucked away in a side street which until then I never knew existed. I must have walked past the place a dozen times during training, completely ignorant that a 1 minute walk around the building would lead to David’s shop.

The shop was actually two store houses side by side, with huge metal doors on the outside and bikes heaped on top of bikes on the inside. At the front of the shop, a wooden sign lying on its side advertised “Ability Bikes”, and on a stool next to this sign was David, drinking his morning coffee before another day of work. He offered us some bofrut (I keep hearing bowl fruit), a Ghanaian version of doughnut holes, and gave us some background into Ability Bikes. For a while now, David’s been working with a team of I think seven people - made up strictly of Ghanaians with physical handicaps and who were selected from 30 others who applied for the job. They get shipments from Boston’s BNBs, repair what they get, and sell them to bike shops and individuals in town. Poking around in the garage, I noticed that many of the bikes were manufactured by well-known companies, and sold for $300 and upwards in the States. Many of the bikes had one problem or another, and it was up to David and his team to fix them. Ina few months, David will be finished with his service here, and I could tell he will miss Ghana. His team will carry on the business, which David hopes will be sustainable without him.

I found out Stephen is some sort of bike aficionado because he was mentioning all these different bike names and parts, none of which I knew anything about. In the end Stephen did not seem satisfied with any of the bikes, and wanted to wait for another shipment. I on the other hand spotted a bike in the garage I could definitely envision myself riding flying around town with, a Gary Fisher Mamba. I inquired about the Mamba, and David said that it needed a lot of parts replaced, and it would take a week or two before I could pick it up. I decided on getting the bike. Was this impulsive? Probably. But now that I’ve had it for about a month, it was worth every Ghana pesua. Getting to school takes less than a minute now, compared to the ten I usually spend walking, and a lot of stress is sloughed off after school when I take the amazing dirt roads that go miles into the forests around my town. Fortunately, the bike is light too, allowing me to pick it up and jump over puddles, crocodiles, barrels, butterflies, flames and other obstacles on the trails.

Most of the trails have a single dirt road for cars carrying bamboo, oranges, palm nuts and cocoa. There are some foot paths- I rode my bike for miles on these, sometimes coming across dilapidated mud homes no longer inhabited by the farmers in the area (pics coming soon- a storm came and I had to head back before taking any pictures). I occasionally stop to talk to farmers if they are not burdened by 80 pounds of haul on their head. I don’t recognize many of the farmers, probably because they rarely go into town. They totally freak when they see a whitey flying down a rocky path, listening to an iPod and wiping flecked mud of his face. I’m glad I have a good grasp of the local language- so far out from town, the farmers’ English is almost negligible. “What you from?” asks a guy who looks to be about 20, with 50 years experience on the farm. We talk for a while, and then I continue on my way deeper into the forest. At some junctures, I could see if rain is on the way, which means I need to race back the same way I came. Otherwise, night classes start at 7, curtailing my journey further into the forest. Another day, another trail- that’s what I look forward to after school.

One thing before we move on: When I got the bike in Kof, I was sure no one would mind loading it in/on their lorries. I was wrong- it takes two lorries to get to my site, and both drivers were blatantly unhappy with my cargo. They acquiesced to help me get it to my site, but I could have sworn I’ve seen bikes on lorries. On the trip from Kof to Kade, my bike was dangling out from an open hatchback, and I was worried it might fall from the vehicle. At some point on the ride, I conked out, and when I woke up and my glasses were gone! I think out of my exhaustion I took them off and they fell out of my hands. Without my glasses, I’m blind. Not exactly- I can see blobs of color. Mortified, I had to ask the driver to stop the car so I could look for my glasses, which I assumed fell out of the lorry whose hatchback was open because of my bike. Luckily, I found them somehow mangled under the seat- I must have stepped on them or something. I bent my glasses back into shape the best I could, wiped mud off the lenses, and frowned at the new scratches on both lenses, which added to a history of neglect. The lorry roared into life again, and glasses sitting askew on my face, I apologized to my fellow commuters.

As for other March stories, I went to a VAC meeting at my friend Sue’s place in Abompe, as well as watched my students march for Ghana’s Independence Day festival in Otumi.

Peace Corps volunteers are spread out in each of Ghana’s ten regions, and for each region we decide on one of our own to represent us and keep us updated on news from Peace Corps- these are our VAC leaders. Occasionally, VAC meetings are held throughout the year to go over anything we PCVs want to communicate to Peace Corps staff through our VAC leaders. We also talk about safety and security issues, our living allowance, gossip, and side projects (i.e.- hosting educational radio programs, AIDS/HIV bike rides, school murals, etc.). I belong to the Eastern Region group, and this last meeting was held not too far from Koforidua, at my friend Sue’s palatial house in Abompe. On a Friday, after school, I headed over to Kof where I met up with Stephen, Chris, and Tammy, then proceeded to Sue’s. The actual meeting was on Saturday, and only a few of us were there on Friday. When Saturday rolled around, several more PCVs showed up to the house, and after a great breakfast, we broke into two groups- those interested in a trek through the surrounding mountains and those wanting to take a tour of the village where bauxite jewelry is made (as well as bamboo bicycles). Torn, I decided to do the village tour, swearing to come back and do the mountain hike with Sue another day.

Our first stop on the tour was a house with some of the local jewelry made from bauxite. Ben, our guide and Sue’s good friend, gave us some background into the history of bauxite mining and jewelry-making in Abompe. Afterwards, I bought a necklace that caught my eye before we continued on our way (see pic below). On our next stop, we entered an elderly couple’s house where they showed us how to drill holes into finished bauxite beads: What they do is take a stick with a skinny nail at the end, and with a bow make it gyrate until a hole is made (think of starting a fire with the friction of spinning a stick on wood). Later, my friend Chris would try this, finding it a bit difficult at first. We also got to see how bamboo bikes are made- the bamboo is used for the frame and the rest is made up of spare bike parts.

After the tour, we went to a bar where the other group eventually joined us for drinks and talk. Then we headed back to the house where we had our official and successful VAC meeting. When it was over, dinner and fun; I played chess with Ira, then some Texas Hold ‘Em using coins for chips. Ben hung around to learn the basics of both games, but poker went well past 1, and drained, I fell asleep. The next morning we all headed back to our sites- many of us are teachers and had classes on Monday.

March 6th is Ghana’s Independence Day, and as part of the festivities, schools have marching competitions to prove they are the best. For the two weeks prior to Independence Day, I would come out to the football field to watch students practice marching and drumming. Although I’d get pissed when some of my classes were cancelled for marching practice, I have to admit that my students looked good out there. The event took place at the Presby JHS’s football field across town, and it was our JHS and primary schoolers versus theirs in the marching competition. First, speeches and prayers were made by town officials. As was customary, one of the elders poured alcohol to the ground to honor the ancestors (think “This one’s for my dead homies”). The officials then scrutinized the students that were now lined up and puffing their chests out in pride. Then my JHS students had the honor of drumming for all the students marching. Each group would do a complete circuit around the football field, showing off their formations and marching technique.

When all the groups went, my headmaster got a little silly and pressured the teachers from both our school and our rival school to march once around the football field. The whole town was there, and I felt timid marching in front of everyone without getting any practice in. My students tried showing me how to do it, but I think I might have looked like my lower half was getting electrocuted- I had no rhythm and I’ve never felt so uncomfortable doing something that was supposed to be fun. Even one of my coworkers told me I looked terrible and I should wait until next year to go. My headmaster told me not to mind Mr. Osei, and his glee was infectious enough for me to say what the hey and march with the other teachers. Hundreds of locals were laughing and cheering when we teachers started marching, and I felt like I was on display at a freak show, but it was fun and it made my students happy. Next year I’ll show them when I get practice. When I practice…

That’s all for this month. Like I said, I have internet. If you’re interested in chatting online, shoot me an email (mine is darrenfleischer@hotmail.com) and let me know what time and IM program you use and I’ll see what I can do. Congrats Steph and Marc, I’d love to go to the wedding, but if it comes down to it I’ll send a video message. Otumi is a hot spot for honeymooners. Really!

Music:
Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down- Puff Daddy and Mase
The Rocky Road To Dublin- Dropkick Murphys
Cursive- Pulse
Sugar, We’re Going Down- Fall Out Boy
Here I Come- Fergie
19-2000- Gorillaz
Turn A Square- The Shins
Who Got The Hooch- Everlast
Slow Down- Goose
Without Me- Eminem
Drivin’ My Life Away- Eddie Rabbit
Welcome To The Jungle- Guns N’ Roses
Faded- Ben Harper
Really Got Me- Van Halen
Hey Boy- The Usuals

On Impulse- Sonny Rollins
Magic Carpet Ride- Steppenwolf
Superfly- Curtis Mayfield
Flight of the Bumblebee- Bobby Mcferrin & Yo Yo Ma
We Get On- Kate Nash
Paper Planes- M.I.A.
On The Run- Mark Ronson
Harder To Breathe- Maroon 5
Come Out And Play – The Offspring
What I Got- Sublime
Come Dancin’- The Kinks
Uisge-Breatha (Whiskey)- Pork Pie Tribe
High Speed- Coldplay
Stop Don’t Panic- Jamiroquai
Morceau II [Enlevé] - Erik Satie
Don’t Let The Bastards Grind You Down- The Toasters
Run It- Chris Brown
Party At The Moontower- The Expandables
Free At Last- G. Love and Special Sauce
Hard to Handle- The Black Crows
Rock and Roll- Led Zeppelin
Song 2- Blur
Break On Through- The Doors
The Repudiated Immortals- Of Montreal
Tribute- Tenacious D
Three Little Birds- Bob Marley

Wine:
Merus Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley 2005

Ability Bikes in Koforidua

David and Co.

My bike

Side trail

Going down?

Bird's nests on bike trail

Hauling bamboo

Night classes

Moses and Priscilla

Nana Darko- A town elder known for his backflips

Me with some Otumi officials

My Form 2 KMS Drummers

...And we're marching!

My Form 1 girls moving forward

Click Me

View from Sue's place

In search of breakfast in Abompe

Insert pithy comment here

Bauxite from the mines

Abompe local drilling holes into bauxite beads

More bauxite necklaces

I got one!

My buddy Chris trying his hand at hole drilling

Some soon-to-be beads

Bauxite bracelet- You will be mine. Oh yes, you will be mine

Awesome bamboo bike

HUGE fruit the size of your everyday miniature poodle

Night scorpion

More books you should definitely read (if you are literate)