From the land of coconuts

Once upon a fine afternoon in Western Region, Vido asked Lindsey and me if we would like to visit a fishing village to watch the fisherman going out to sea. Vido, the entrepreneur we were staying with, lives in Bonyere, which is a village along the Western coast of Ghana. In these coastal towns, most people have one of two jobs: coconut farming or fishing. Lindsey and I are usually up for anything so of course we agreed.

And so we found ourselves around 4:30 pm on our way. We turned off of the main paved road and started down a very bumpy and dusty red-dirt road. The road snaked through forests and forests of tall coconut trees; I’ve never seen so many in my life. And after 15 minutes we arrived in the village.

It was not quite like anything I’d ever seen before. The houses in the town lined the shore, all made out of coconut palm leaves. The walls where either palm leaves woven together or stems bound side-by-side. In many of the houses there were women smoking fish or cooking the evening meal for the families. And there were children running around everywhere, of all ages, calling to us, waving to us, and following our every movement.

Vido wanted to show us his friend’s boat and so we crossed through the band of houses on the beach. I should explain exactly house they go about fishing. The boats are 15 metres long and 3 metres wide. Each boat has an owner, a manager, and a team of about eight to 15 boys. Around 5 pm each day, the team of boys prepares the boat and ventures out to sea. They throw their nets and sleep, and in the morning they load the catch into the boats and return back to shore by around 7 am.

And so we were lucky enough to be there just as the boats were leaving for the sea. They lined the beach, each one resting on three big tree trunks. The teams are very proud of their boats and have them decorated and painted with lots of flags and designs. Some boats even have uniforms! We saw one team all wearing matching Chelsea uniforms, blue shorts and blue and white toques!

Our team had eight boys, and we watched them load the supplies they would need for the night. Once it was loaded, the team used the tree trunks to roll the boat towards the water. When the boat was in, they added the out-board motor (too heavy to add before the pushing) and away they went.

But it was not so easy. The waves are very dangerous around the village, especially at that time of day. This is the most dangerous part of the fisherman’s trek. The boats need to get past the place where the waves break before they will be safe.

As the boat moved into the water, the people who were walking by stopped to watch the journey. The owner and manager of our boat stood around with us and the other passers-by, hoping the boat would be ok. Everyone watched in silence as the boys passed further and further away from the shore. You could feel the tension as the boat rocked back and forth, as Lindsey said, looking like the Upside-down Ship from Canada’s Wonderland.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity to me, they made it past the break. And life on the beach went on. As if nothing had happened, the people that had been frozen moved to life again, continuing on their way. Only the manager and the owner exchanged a small smile and returned to the hustle and bustle of the village.

But for the boys on the boat, it was a great feat. You could see them jumping, singing, clapping; celebrating that they had made it, for one more day, safely out to sea.

Just some reflecting-oh

I’ve been sitting here staring at the blinking cursor of my blank word document for a good 15 minutes. After a lot of hard work and intense discussion, our final report finally seems to be taking shape. We are all so involved and passionate about our experience on project that no one wants to let any information slip through. My vast period of time in Ghana here has dwindled down to a matter of a couple days. There are lots of lasts coming up: last day at the office tomorrow, last full day in Ghana on Wednesday, last chop bar meal, last tro tro ride, etc.

Thoughts of going home and reconnecting with my friends and family have been occupying a lot of time in my mind over the past few days. I’ve recently realized how fragile such things can be. I’m looking forward to some great conversations and comforts from home. However, along with my excitement comes a huge overwhelming feeling.

During my time here I’ve gotten to experience some pretty incredible things and meet some truly inspiring people. How do I ever convey everything I’ve seen? How do I share all of the things I’ve learned? I really have no idea, but it is amazing how normal some truly exotic things have become since my arrival.

Take one example; the market. In an effort to pick up some key ingredients to continue our new-found obsession with Ghanaian food, the team headed to Makola market (or at least some tangent of it?) on Saturday.

I remember the first time we walked down that very street on our first weekend in Accra. The street snacks looked so strange, I had no idea what the ladies were yelling, and my pineapple costs what? 5000 cedis? Oh right. Old currency speak for 50 pesewas.

Doing that same walk on Saturday it’s amazing how familiar everything has become over the past 3 months. I know if I’m thirsty it’s probably only a matter of seconds before I’ll pass a street seller yelling “isssccchh pure wata”, and I can grab a sachet on the go. The chaos and huge crowd of people is no longer a source of anxiety, but provides a strange feeling of comfort. And no, that tro tro driver isn’t yelling in a forgien language, he is calling people to join his car to Kasoa, that town on the outskirts of Accra we passed through on our way to Bawjiase in June.

I really love the market. It’s so saturated and vibrant. Huge stacks of blood red tomatoes piled in mini pyramids, piles of dried or smoked fish in brown, silver, and beige. Spices stacked high in huge culdron-like bowls. It makes you want some dinner even if you aren’t hungry. Then there are the fabric stands (ohh how we stand there forever) with the beautiful boldly printed African fabric that definitely makes us girls (and maybe even Josh) drool a little.

You can walk for about five minutes and see everything you need to make a great dinner, pick up a new outfit, and maybe even grab the latest hip-life cd.

There are many things I will really miss about Ghana, but I think I am at least content with what I have experienced this time around. I have many stories to tell and insights to share, so please don’t get impatient with me when I begin every second sentence with, “So this one time, in Ghana…”

(This post is dedicated in loving memory of Cindy Douglas; you will always occupy a special place in our minds and hearts)

What are your IT needs?

Before coming to Ghana I’d never really thought about the uses of information and communication technology (ICT) for rural villages. But after visiting nine ICT business centres around Ghana for three months, I feel like I know quite a bit more! Some things may surprise you so I thought I share some information related to our project.

Phones
When you live in a rural village, you still need to make phone calls! You may have sons and daughters at boarding school in the city or relatives in other West African countries or even in Europe or North America! You may need to call one of your friends to ask them to bring you something from the city the next time they come home.
Also, you may have friends that need to get in touch with you. They will call the local business centre and inform the employee when they will be calling back. Then the employee will bike to your house to tell you that you should expect a phone call from your friend in half and hour.

Typesetting
People need typed documents pretty often. Teachers need to print school examinations, people need to write their resumes, write church programs and send letters to their friends, business owners have to apply for loans, the market needs receipt books for the stall owners etc. With these types of documents, people will not compromise; with no business centre in their town, some will travel two or three hours to get these items printed.
One interesting thing that we saw was in Battor in the Volta Region. Battor has a big hospital and so people came from all around southern Volta to go to the hospital. One woman came to the centre because her father was undergoing treatment and she wanted him to be released early. The hospital required her to present them with a typed document explaining why she wanted him released early. Except she could not write. So she went to the business centre, dictated a letter, and signed it by using ink to stamp her thumbprint.

Desktop publishing
Funeral posters. They are one of the most requested-for services at rural business centres. Funerals in Ghana are quite different than at home. They will sometimes last for days and are even more important that weddings! People will ask for big poster to be designed announcing their family member’s death, when and where the funeral will be held, etc. Family will fly in from all corners of the earth and the festivities and both very sad and mournful and also big celebration of the person’s life. Funerals are a big deal and so these funeral posters are also pretty important.
They of course do more than just desktop publishing. A lot of churches advertisements or flyers, bread sellers need their logos printed on papers to give out with their bread. Also, churches and school like to get certificates printed for graduations or events and invitations for weddings are pretty popular also. One of the things that all of the successful centres that we saw had in common was that they were providing desktop publishing.


Seeing all of these business centres and learning about the services that they provide was pretty exciting. While there are many problems with the project that we are working on, it seems clear that people in rural communities would benefit tremendously from better access to information and communication technology. Without this kind of access people spend a lot of time and money traveling to have things printed and typed. They also can’t communicate with others outside of their own community as well. This is incredibly important because seeing new things and learning about new ideas is what helps individuals, and in turn their communities to grow and change. This is made difficult for people in rural communities because they are often far from major cities and have very bad roads leading to the community.

I think before this trip I had really underestimated the importance of a good road, but for many communities, they want one more than electricity, running water, health clinics etc. In Canada, it’s frustrating when politicians don’t seem to understand the people they are representing, but here it almost seems like there is more of an excuse. If no one can even access these communities, how reasonable is it to think that politicians will be able to understand the challenges that they face and make good decisions that will most positively impact them.

I guess m point is that if there was a way that the eCARE project could harness the demand for ICT services and successfully provide the opportunity for business centres to operate in more rural areas, they could do a lot of great things. The challenge, of course, is to figure out exactly the best way to provide that opportunity. The things that we have seen and learned this summer have given us a little insight into the solution but we definately don't have the magic formula. But the project is slowly on its way there and it's been exciting to be a small part of getting it there.

It's "somehow" different: Accra living

At 5:25 the alarm on our Nokia model cell phone (the one EVERY Ghanaian has) says in it’s robot voice “It’s time to get up, the time is five-twenty-five..” over and over until I obey and turn it off. Chances are the roosters or frogs or morning worshipers have already awakened me anyway. I pull back my bug net, slip on my flip flops, and shuffle to the bathroom. At 5:25, the sky is still mostly dark.

Ten minutes later Josh and I are in our stinky running gear and outside. Although it’s only been 10 minutes, the sky has gone from dim to hazy and bright. The sun rises and sets so fast here! On days we don’t run, if it’s not raining, I’ll maybe do some laundry and hang it to dry out back.

Our run (or trot, as they say here) takes us down past Independence Square to the beach, on the ocean of the Gulf of Guinea. As we dodge the street sweepers (people, not machines), we either run in silence, or sometimes debate the latest issue that our stay in Ghana has taught us. As we stretch by the water, we look to the east to see the pink sky behind the Osu slave castle and a scattering of palm trees. On the sand, dozens of young guys run back and forth, training for their football team.

By 7:05 we are back at the YMCA, bucket-showered and wearing our half-ironed work clothes, ready for the almost hour-long commute. Along our walk we pass Edward, the shoe repairman who saved my flipflops, the koko lady, and Madame Azuma, our favourite source of groundnuts. They all wave and challenge us to greet them in Twi.

A 15 minute walk takes us to Kojo Thompson Road, where we wait for our ‘car.’ When a tro flies by with the mate yelling “New Town, PigFarm, New Town, PigFarm,” we signal for it to stop and hop in. Though it varies, the ride usually costs us 30 pesoas each (equivalent to 30 cents). We arrive in Pig Farm, where I head to the bread stand. What should it be today. Tea bread? Butter bread? On special days, I get cocoa bread - so good. We then saunter down to our favourite fruit stand in all of Ghana, which boasts everything from bananas to mangoes to pineapples to starfruit to papaya to sweet apple (spiky and green, strangely delicious). Another 10 minute walk takes us to the KITE office.

After a long round of “Good Mornings” and “How are yous,” we settle down to work. When we are not in the field, our office tasks have been a range of data analysis, questionnaire development, and report writing for the two projects in which we have been involved. We have been exposed to so much that is interesting and new and challenging in our projects. We have been able to make good use of previous experience with Word and Excel in our assignments. Sometimes, we are also given side tasks or invited to staff meetings. I enjoy being in the office among such interesting people, and being witness to all the office dynamics. Sometimes there are big project meetings with important stakeholders and companies.

Morning times at the office are filled with greetings as staff come in one by one. Due to the ridiculous traffic in Accra, it takes some people three hours to get to work even if they live in the city!

Lunch comes late – around 2:00 – and is always enough to fill me for lunch and dinner! The KITE staff spent the first two weeks patiently explaining what’s in each new meal and how to eat it. Now, however, we’ve caught on – for example, on Tuesdays I’ll be like “Sweet Josh, it’s yam and palaver day.”

The afternoons pass quickly because of the late lunch. My favourite sound in the afternoon is the fan-milk (incredible ice cream sold in pouches) seller who goes back and forth past the office window squeaking his trademark fan-milk horn (basically a really obnoxious bike horn). We work hard at the office and almost always have enough work to warrant staying a little late.

Anytime between 5:30 to 7, we leave the office. If it’s past six, it’s already dark. We’ll maybe pick up some fruit, or biscuits, for an evening snack. Depending on how fast we want to get home, we either take a faster, more expensive tro to ‘37,’ or the slower, exciting drive through New Town.

Back in the first half of our stay, when everyone was still in school, we would ‘flash’ our YMCA friends on the way home. (Flashing is a really clever cell phone manoeuvre by which you call someone to notify them of something, but then hang up before they answer – free communication! I plan to start flashing back in Canada). If they were around, we would sit outside and chat, or sometimes go get food. Unfortunately now it’s the rainy season, the longest school break for Ghanaians, so they’re no longer around. (However we had a chance to go visit one of them last weekend in their hometown, which was a lot of fun).

Otherwise, we spend a lot of evening time reading. I have been through several phenomenal books, both fiction and non fiction. When you’re here and reading about human history, trade policy, or even Indian culture, everything is somehow just so much more relevant, real, and interesting. If anyone is looking for a life-changing read, pick up Guns, Germs, and Steel for sure.

Now that Amy and Lindsey are back in town, the books have been put down and replaced with long discussions about – well, about just about everything, but particularly our projects, our experiences, and the future of our organisation back at Queen’s. With their project in full swing back at the office, there have been a lot of interesting developments to talk about. I love this but it also means I’ve been staying up later than usual – that is, later than 9:00.

If it’s a Friday, we’ll maybe relax at Strawberry, our favourite ‘spot.’ On the Strawberry patio, they serve Ghanaian and international beers, all the popular soft drinks (that is, coke and fanta), and malt (kind of like a combination of coke and beer, the choice of most people who do not drink, who are many). Of course Strawberry also has an awesome playlist of all the best hiplife songs.

I hope that maybe this gives a glimpse into a typical day in my Accra life. During the last three months I have developed quite a love for this city – maybe it’s because I’ve never really lived in a city before (Kingston doesn’t count when you compare to this!), or because of the adrenaline rush of riding tros with some good reggae playing, or because of the genuine kindness of the people we meet, or the accommodating and friendly spirit of the office, or the incredible vibe and energy and creativity that is Accra. I guess it’s a combination. There’s such a dichotomy between here and the rest of the country, which is so rural in comparison. Both settings present beauty, insight, and challenges. I’m only too fortunate to be living in the heart of them.

"Oh, Good! You've Gained Weight!"

Atree/Dingli/Ma Kye,

to which you would reply

Naah/Dingli/Yeoh,

depending on whether you were speaking Dagbani, Kassena, or Twi. As for the remaining dozens of Ghanaian languages, I'm still in the dark. Josh and I are back from five days in the very north of this beautiful counrtry, doing the last of our required "field work" for our internship. I have come to realize that Ghana is as diverse as Canada in terms of lanscape, geology, and crops, and more diverse in terms of people and languages.

The north is VERY different from the southern part of the country. It is also generally much poorer, as was made clear to me while conducting surveys in three small communities. Unfortunately, in true blogging manner, I'm going to gloss over the profound, difficult, and unbeleivable things I saw and learned while on my latest travels, and jump right to the ridiculous pictures. However, none of you are off the hook for long emails and future discussions about everything my mind is filled with!

Our friend and Project Officer, who we traveled to the north with, took us to one of his favourite places - the Paga crocodile pond. The pictures are exactly what they look like. Yes, I'm sitting on a crocodile. A live, massive, 97-yr-old mother crocodile who was hungrily eyeing the live chicken we had to buy for it.

Who knew?

Too much love,

Lindsay

Here Comes the Sun

So I thought I would continue on my blogging streak (being a whole one in a row) and write another post before LWIG and I head up north for the week. (For those of you confused by LWIG, it is simply a clever reference to Lindsay Wiginton). You will be happy to know that we have developed a multitude of nicknames for each other over the course of the summer. Other favorites are LKW and LDubs. 

The purpose of our field trip north will be to investigate the baseline socioeconomic level of three different communities prior to the provision of a solar lighting project, entitled Affordable Lighting for All (or ALFA). Although our focus will primarily be on determining the way that households, businesses, and public institutions CURRENTLY use their lighting devices, learning about the project as a whole has stimulated quite a bit of thought and discussion into the role of solar lighting.

I’ll try and give you a bit of a better understanding of the current lighting situation (as we understand it now). People in electrified communities (also known as towns that have VRA, the public agency which distributes power from the Akosombo dam) mostly use compact fluorescent lightbulbs for their needs. This is positive because, due to a government campaign over the past few years, almost everyone has access to the CFLs which are tremendously energy efficient. (Most people in Canada will not even shell out the “big-bucks” to purchase them, or they do not like the slightly different hue of color it gives off). The lighting charge per month (light also refers to electricity in general—which will certainly make our surveying rather difficult) is based on how many appliances and lights you have plugged in. The main challenges are that it can get rather expensive with lots of lights and appliances, and in past years, due to the drier conditions than normal in Ghana, the dam has had to reduce its provision of electricity, and thus, many blackouts have occurred.

For communities which do not have access to electricity, or in areas of an electrified town where there is no easy access to an outlet, kerosene is the most common lighting source. The kerosene is purchased on a monthly basis for between 4 and 6 Ghana Cedis (approximately equivalent to USD) from a local market. It is placed in lanterns built from old tins with thick wicks sticking out of them and burnt anywhere from 4 to 12 hours every night. It is really more of an inconsistent flame, but provides enough light for children to complete their base amount of homework, household tasks to be completed, and sometimes, for businesses to be open later into the evening. The smoke from the flame is by no means healthy, and with prolonged exposure over a lifetime could promote some significant safety concerns. It seems to be the best current option, though, because it is a consistent cost from month to month, and something that people have been used to using for a long period of time.

It should be noted that torch lights (or flashlights) are also used in addition to the kerosene lamps for navigation and further light when necessary. Batteries are usually also purchased from the market on a monthly basis.

So where does solar fit into all this? To tell you the truth, I really haven’t quite made sense of the complex arguments surrounding its implementation—but I’ll do my best to explain.

The idea is that, even though a solar lantern may be a large capital expenditure in the short term (as much as 125 Ghana Cedis), since you will not need to pay for fuel on a month to month basis, it is worth the investment. Makes sense, right? Unfortunately, there are a few challenges which I think must be more thoroughly evaluated in order for the solar lighting to be claimed a better option with such strong conviction.

Sometimes the solar lantern may not fully replace the lighting needs the person previously had met by kerosene. (Perhaps they had 3 or 4 lanterns operating simultaneously for 5 or 6 hours). The lantern may only hold a charge for 3 or 4 hours for one night, and hence, would not meet this need. Additionally, even though the solar lantern might be more healthy, it is not the TYPE of lighting that a family is used to, and as such, they might be frustrated to use the different source. Finally, the solar lantern might break down, require a new battery, or become completely unusable. (All of which throw the beautifully constructed cash flow diagrams a little out of whack). Therefore, in addition to the loan repayments people are making for their $120 solar lantern (at 30% interest: standard across Ghana), they must start paying for the same kerosene lighting they had before.

With respect to solar use on a more macro scale, (Insert insult from Team Nunavut for using the word ‘macro.’ Again) I think there are also both opportunities as well as challenges. For very remote communities which are also not very dense in structure, solar lanterns may serve to be much less expensive than an extension of the far off grid. (Low Current grid extensions are particularly expensive). However, if the solar lighting is not subsidized by government funding, it is STILL very expensive for the community, and does not offer them a full range of electrical usage like that of alternating current from the grid. Finally, it is perhaps not quite the ‘renewable’ resource that we claim it to be. While of course the sun provides vast billions of Joules of energy across the earth, the technology required to convert the solar energy to thermal and electric is costly, energy intensive, and currently relies on rare elements from the periodic table. Without the technological ‘breakthroughs’ that are so often promised in policy development and socially based research, solar might not prove to be the renewable ‘saviour’ it is often promised to be.

I can’t emphasize enough that I am truly not as informed as I’d like to be on this topic. It has merely been another avenue of discussion which will frame my further learning and research both while in Ghana, as well as down the line. I’m sure we’ll have lots more to share after our time up north.

Have a great week!

Josh

Dis Ting... Palm Oil

It has been mentioned that our posts have been pretty sight-seeing based, and less project-related.  I think this is mostly because it is much less complicated to talk about our traveling escapades rather than our project tasks; certainly it is not due to the fact that our projects have in any way been uninteresting.  So, I will attempt to do a post on one very small but very interesting (especially from an engineering perspective) component of my first project.  Since we were looking for ways in which the communities could use electricity productively, we spent a large amount of time investigating the small-scale enterprises in the area.  By far the most important enterprise was found to be palm oil processing, and the way in which it is done is fascinating, especially when you keep in mind that these communities do not have electricity.

Palm oil processing is an extremely important source of income for many people in the Eastern Region.  In each of the two villages we were in, over 100 people were employed in the industry.  With the exception of the screw press operators, the workers are predominantly women.

Palm fruit (or “abeh” in Twi) are walnut-sized, red berries that grow in large bunches on oil palm trees.  Inside the fruit is a smaller nut (called the kernel).  The trees themselves have tons of uses – the fronds make brooms, fans, and baskets; the branches are used as reinforcement in mud-brick homes; the leaves together are used for thatch in roofs; the fruit give palm and palm kernel oil; their waste products are good combustibles; and fallen trees are tapped for palm wine and gin.

Nearly everyone in the area has several acres of oil palm (along with many other crops, however, the oil palm tends to be the major “cash crop”).  To harvest the bunches of fruit, farmers use a sickle attached to a long, long stick.  You have to be really careful because the bunches are spiky and they fall from a great height – although the trees start out small, the older ones are really tall.  In fact, they eventually get too tall to be useful.

The bunches are taken to an oil processing facility (of which there were three in each community), where the fruit are removed from the branch using a sharp knife.  It takes 80-100 branches to make one ton (or one barrel) of palm oil.  Next, they are placed in a huge drum over a fire, where they are softened by boiling.  This step therefore requires a huge input of firewood. 

When the fruit are soft, they are fed to a mill, which grinds them to a pulp.  Generally these mills are run by diesel or petrol – which we all know is terribly expensive these days.  In some cases, the plants don’t even have a mill – the fruits are ground by hand.  Obviously, this is incredibly inefficient, reducing the production rate by magnitudes.

The pulp is then taken to the manual screw presses, which are typically operated by muscular young men.  When the pulp is squeezed, a orangish-red liquid comes out.  What is left behind is fibres and kernels.  They are separated and the fibres are used as fuel for the fires.  As none of the plants we saw had the technology to make palm kernel oil, the kernels were collected and sold to someone who took them elsewhere for processing.

The liquid now must be refined to obtain the oil.  It is placed in large, black cauldrons over the fire, and stirred constantly (think again about the huge demand for firewood in this step).  Eventually, the oil can be removed from the top of the cauldron – waste water (not particularly clean) accumulates at the bottom, which is poured off into the bush.

The larger plants can produce up to 15 or 20 barrels of palm oil in one day.  It is sold all over Ghana, including the major cities of Kumasi and Accra.  You can see it being sold in big jugs, as well as re-used “Voltic” water bottles.  Palm Oil is a red oil that is a key component to a many of the delicious Ghanaian dishes.  It is also good for you – it is high in beta-cerotene, Vitamin E antioxidants, and is cholesterol-free!

It was interesting to see these small-scale palm oil processing plants in contrast with the huge factory and plantation we drove through on the way there.  The picture you see above is the endless rows of palm at the massive plantation.  I will try to upload some more soon...

As a brief update, Josh and I will be heading North to Tamale tomorrow morning.  The 12 hour trip will take us to the area in which we will be helping our project officer to carry out a baseline survey for our second project.  We will cover three communities in three days.  It should be a tiring but worthwhile week; I look forward to returning to the north and seeing more of those communities.

We will return for two more weeks of report-writing in a more crowded office, as the other interns will have returned as well.  We will look forward to seeing Lindsey and Amy again!