Personally, I don't tend to watch a film twice, because I prefer not to know what is coming next. But I should, since it is often only on the second or third viewing that I notice the interesting and amusing details that I missed before, while I was concentrating on the plot. And so it is with my six week 'viewing' of Ghana: the longer I stay, the more I notice (or have pointed out to me)....
I have learned that the left side of the face is not particularly accident prone after all, and the scars are tribal markings, carved into the person's identity as an infant. I notice the teddy bears that are tied onto children's backs in imitation of their mothers (much as a child over here would push a miniature pram). I know to expect the crowd around a tro tro when it stops and how to attract their attention (other than simply being white) and I don't worry about the fact that the door is tied on with string since I haven't known one to fall off yet.
As my time in Ghana was drawing to a close, I found myself reflecting on the experience - good, bad and challenging, and contemplating my return home. When I was planning the trip I was told "come with as few expectations as possible", and it was true that I really couldn't picture what I was going to find. There were, however, things that I had been warned about and was prepared for....
I was not surprised or shocked by the comparative lack of facilities, the temperamental nature of running water and electricity, by the poverty and poor hygiene or caution required in assessing things for edibility. I had anticipated the heat and been warned about 'Ghana time' which doesn't involve schedules (hours may as well not be divided into minutes), and where lateness is so expected that it doesn't even merit an apology.
I also knew that I would be a novelty, sticking out like a sore thumb for the duration, and I wasn't even hugely taken aback by the not infrequent and unceremonious marriage proposals! Despite being a happy nation on the whole, many Ghanaians people believe that all their problems will be solved by money and a ticket out of Ghana, something that we Yevus apparently represent. I will not, I have to say, miss most of these things!
I came prepared for a culture shock and possibly to find the circumstances difficult, but in fact the only thing that I found truly shocking and had not anticipated was the attitude of many of the staff in the hospital: their detachment from those in their care, and their lack of empathy and compassion. Life is expendable, and death is expected and allowed when it could be so easily postponed. Maybe it is just that suffering is so commonplace and people are simply desensitized to it, or that life is valued less and death feared less. Since attitudes to life and death are not easily comparable entities, I will probably never find out.
More widely than health care though, innovation and initiative are not employed that often - many people don't think within the box, let alone, outside of it. Team work is not an important part of the school curriculum, with the result that within hierarchical structures people can be fairly inflexible and maybe have less ability to take another perspective or stand in somebody else's shoes. Can't blame them really - feet over here can be quite disgusting I have discovered - even mine :o)
In schools, children are taught to recite facts and figures but do not understand their context or significance or learn how to apply them. This they take with them into adulthood, in many cases, where they carry out their duties and fulfill their job requirements but often with no recognition of social graces or courtesy. There are some elaborate customs defining social interaction, many of which I would find most daunting left to myself, but much behaviour, even to other Ghanaians, is simply rudeness. Or ignorance, and I will not miss this at all. Particularly since I will also find it at home.
I will definitely miss, however, the other side of the coin, which, I would like to stress, is bigger. The longer I stayed in Ghana the more I encountered the Ghanaians' warmth and hospitality: they will generally do anything for their friends (and they will readily include you among them), or in fact anyone they meet. It is not uncommon to see them drop what they are doing, at a minute's notice, to help a stranger move house or personally chaperone somebody asking for directions, some fair distance, to his destination.
I was not surprised or shocked by the comparative lack of facilities, the temperamental nature of running water and electricity, by the poverty and poor hygiene or caution required in assessing things for edibility. I had anticipated the heat and been warned about 'Ghana time' which doesn't involve schedules (hours may as well not be divided into minutes), and where lateness is so expected that it doesn't even merit an apology.
I also knew that I would be a novelty, sticking out like a sore thumb for the duration, and I wasn't even hugely taken aback by the not infrequent and unceremonious marriage proposals! Despite being a happy nation on the whole, many Ghanaians people believe that all their problems will be solved by money and a ticket out of Ghana, something that we Yevus apparently represent. I will not, I have to say, miss most of these things!
I came prepared for a culture shock and possibly to find the circumstances difficult, but in fact the only thing that I found truly shocking and had not anticipated was the attitude of many of the staff in the hospital: their detachment from those in their care, and their lack of empathy and compassion. Life is expendable, and death is expected and allowed when it could be so easily postponed. Maybe it is just that suffering is so commonplace and people are simply desensitized to it, or that life is valued less and death feared less. Since attitudes to life and death are not easily comparable entities, I will probably never find out.
More widely than health care though, innovation and initiative are not employed that often - many people don't think within the box, let alone, outside of it. Team work is not an important part of the school curriculum, with the result that within hierarchical structures people can be fairly inflexible and maybe have less ability to take another perspective or stand in somebody else's shoes. Can't blame them really - feet over here can be quite disgusting I have discovered - even mine :o)
In schools, children are taught to recite facts and figures but do not understand their context or significance or learn how to apply them. This they take with them into adulthood, in many cases, where they carry out their duties and fulfill their job requirements but often with no recognition of social graces or courtesy. There are some elaborate customs defining social interaction, many of which I would find most daunting left to myself, but much behaviour, even to other Ghanaians, is simply rudeness. Or ignorance, and I will not miss this at all. Particularly since I will also find it at home.
I will definitely miss, however, the other side of the coin, which, I would like to stress, is bigger. The longer I stayed in Ghana the more I encountered the Ghanaians' warmth and hospitality: they will generally do anything for their friends (and they will readily include you among them), or in fact anyone they meet. It is not uncommon to see them drop what they are doing, at a minute's notice, to help a stranger move house or personally chaperone somebody asking for directions, some fair distance, to his destination.
I have had many an in-depth and insightful conversation with the locals in Hohoe, often huddled under canvas shops, sheltering from a downpour I have just been caught in. Or with people who had accompanied me all the way home, just for the chat. I found myself discussing the country's religion, business, politics, education or health care, and exchanging e mail addresses, with people I had met moments before.
I will miss the amazing scenery, surrounded by mountains and thick with palm and coconut trees and other leafy greenery. I came to like the familiar rough mud tracks and obscure routes into town - and frequently challenged myself to do them in the dark by forgetting my torch - sometimes even on purpose! I will miss the spectacular flashing skies and incredible 'instant thunderstorms', though I might not miss the dust clouds and power cuts that accompany them, nor the cavernous pot holes in the roads or the monstrous speed bumps, or the uncomfortable feeling that I take my life in my hands whenever I get into a tro tro or cross the road.
I will miss the staff at the home base: Alpha's long drawn out welcomes for example ("Helloooooooo feeleedah from Edinbeeerrg...."), Makafui's "Ehsssellent" enthusiasm, Akos' dry humour, Joe's passionate anti smoking campaign and Atsu who regularly scored me on my Ghanaian handshaking skills (usually with a resigned shake of the head). I will no longer be able to help Roberta scoop all the water out of the large porch with a dustpan and brush, or watch as she sweeps the lawn with her grass - broom, and I am disappointed I will have no more 'carrying water on my head' lessons from Rebecca. I never really got past the first one actually but that might be because she tried to start me on a full bucket! I also shouldn't forget the CCS van that had so many cracks in all the windows that autoglass would have had a field day, but which Dela lovingly cleaned and dusted every day anyway.
I will miss the amazing scenery, surrounded by mountains and thick with palm and coconut trees and other leafy greenery. I came to like the familiar rough mud tracks and obscure routes into town - and frequently challenged myself to do them in the dark by forgetting my torch - sometimes even on purpose! I will miss the spectacular flashing skies and incredible 'instant thunderstorms', though I might not miss the dust clouds and power cuts that accompany them, nor the cavernous pot holes in the roads or the monstrous speed bumps, or the uncomfortable feeling that I take my life in my hands whenever I get into a tro tro or cross the road.
I will miss the staff at the home base: Alpha's long drawn out welcomes for example ("Helloooooooo feeleedah from Edinbeeerrg...."), Makafui's "Ehsssellent" enthusiasm, Akos' dry humour, Joe's passionate anti smoking campaign and Atsu who regularly scored me on my Ghanaian handshaking skills (usually with a resigned shake of the head). I will no longer be able to help Roberta scoop all the water out of the large porch with a dustpan and brush, or watch as she sweeps the lawn with her grass - broom, and I am disappointed I will have no more 'carrying water on my head' lessons from Rebecca. I never really got past the first one actually but that might be because she tried to start me on a full bucket! I also shouldn't forget the CCS van that had so many cracks in all the windows that autoglass would have had a field day, but which Dela lovingly cleaned and dusted every day anyway.
I will miss the local seamstresses, Roberta and Beatrice, and particularly Beatrice's grandson, Calvin, who used to launch himself at me as I arrived and point out all the things I had 'forgotten' to bring with me. I'll miss the kids next door who played cards with me and taught me how to count in Ewe, among other things, as well as the physiotherapy staff and patients who did their best to understand my broken Ewe and teach me new words or, failing that, enter in good spirit, into another frustrating game of charades.
I will also miss the animals: the enormous pigs, tied one to a tree, on the road by the hospital, and the sheep and goats which roamed everywhere, bleating noisily as though they had just got lost in the supermarket. I won't forget the baby goat which got stuck in the gutter: we stood there stupidly wondering how to help as it launched itself at the sides, until one of the locals jumped in to rescue it. Stupid Yevus!
I will also miss the animals: the enormous pigs, tied one to a tree, on the road by the hospital, and the sheep and goats which roamed everywhere, bleating noisily as though they had just got lost in the supermarket. I won't forget the baby goat which got stuck in the gutter: we stood there stupidly wondering how to help as it launched itself at the sides, until one of the locals jumped in to rescue it. Stupid Yevus!
I loved the enormous gobbling turkeys (I'm not sure I've met one before in such close proximity - during it's lifetime at least) and the mornings will seem quiet without the cockerel which crows reliably early, in a most un- Ghanaian fashion. I will particularly miss the lizards scuttling about: I never got tired of watching them but sadly never succeeded in catching one or even getting close enough for a decent photo. And the frogs which made the evenings as noisy as the cockerels did the mornings. The animals made themselves as much at home in the hospital as they did everywhere else however, and I doubt they washed their hands on the way in!
Life will not be the same without the chicken and beans and pineapple, and I might have to go hunting for some plantain when I get home. I would also miss John's omelettes if it weren't for the fact that I am so much enjoying having cornflakes again. Cereal was not a popular option considering the difficulty of keeping milk. Or finding it in the first place even: Maybe I should have spoken nicely to the sheep and the goats.
Quite apart from cornflakes, I am enjoying the speedy and readily available internet, wearing a sweater, sleeping past 6am, using a washing machine rather than hauling water out of the well, and being left to shop in relative peace without having to justify at length not spending my money on something I don't want. Possibly what I missed most while in Ghana (apart from all of you, of course) was my anonymity in a crowd, and I'm happy to have left my celebrity status quite firmly in Africa.
Quite apart from cornflakes, I am enjoying the speedy and readily available internet, wearing a sweater, sleeping past 6am, using a washing machine rather than hauling water out of the well, and being left to shop in relative peace without having to justify at length not spending my money on something I don't want. Possibly what I missed most while in Ghana (apart from all of you, of course) was my anonymity in a crowd, and I'm happy to have left my celebrity status quite firmly in Africa.
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