Thursday, January 25, 2007

from the "pulling out my hair" dept.

Thursday Jan 25, 2007
Takoradi, Ghana

This is a double post. I wrote a long post offline on Tuesday and I am only now at the internet cafe downtown. It still sucks and the service is brutal. It took 40 minutes to get my plog's posting window to actually open.

I hope the cut-and-paste works and that this actually makes it to "air".

Despite the electro-hex I suffer, everything is going well -- but I am looking forward to the weekend. Methinks I'll head out of town as the cultre shock is beginning to take its toll...

Here's the big post:

Blog Posting
Tue Jan 23

The internet is still broken at work and I didn't make it to town Tuesday, so I am writing this posting off-line on Tuesday night.

If you're wondering why I haven't been sending many emails the answer is threefold: restricted access to the internet, lack of time and the most recent one: I've been blocked. Apparently I can't send emails from my mail provider (dot mac) to anyone with a Shaw account.

Shaw apparently blocks either email originating from dot mac accounts or Ghana IP addresses or both. I'm not sure what the work around is, although I may have to start using Gmail more often.

If you've got a Shaw account and I'm not responding, it's not that I haven't wanted to... they just keep bouncing back.

On another topic: life here.

Today marks my one-week anniversary of being in Africa. The time has flown by. I still face the occasional moment of culture shock and I'm not quite used to being stared at because of my skin colour. I see very few white people here. Maybe five since I moved to Takoradi.

I continue to eat local food (largely rice and beans-based). The quantities are so large and the food so filling that I eat just a small breakfast (today: Corn Flakes) and lunch only. In the evening I couldn't imagine eating another thing.

I still drink bottled water when I can, however it is not readily available near my home or work. I brought some water treatment from Canada and I've been experimenting with drinking treated (and boiled) tap water.

In both cases, the digestive system is working well. I've yet to touch a cipro pill. Fingers crossed!

I'm settling into my home, but finding it rather boring. So far I generally hang out for a bit at the kitchen table and then crash or listen to BBC World Service. Radio Canada's service is terrible -- if it comes in at all. It consists of one hour of English programming, one hour of Arabic programming, and two hours of French programming every evening. None of which I can receive with any quality.

Thank God for the BBC.

My room is still a mess. On Monday we installed what Ghanaian's call carpet: plastic flooring similar to linoleum. But without shelves, a bookcase or clothes rack, everything is spread out on the floor.

My bed is massive but very uncomfortable. It sags here and there and I find it difficult to sleep through the night. It doesn't help that my windows open onto the common area of the house -- meaning I can hear Kewku and Gloria (our helper) as they go about their business in the evening.

Which brings me to the topic everyone must be wondering about: Noise.

It's no secret that I have a low tolerance for noise. This applies mostly to living in Vancouver and you've all heard me complain about the bongos of East Vancouver, the traffic of Deep Cove and the dogs of East 54th.

Surprisingly this quirk tends to lessen whilst travelling. Believe it or not, I can generally handle the dogs of Belize City, the karaoke machines of San Ignacio and the kruffy of Caye Caulker. Maybe that's because I know that it is all temporary.

Thankfully Ghana isn't that noisy.

Sure, taxi's drive with their stereos cranked. And the TV is cranked during meetings at work. And everyone loves to honk.

But as I write this at 7:19 p.m. on a Tuesday evening, all I can hear is the fan in my room and the whine of the fridge (chilling another Star Beer).

People tend to respect their neighbours. They might watch TV loudly for an hour, but that's it. The street dogs might bark for 5 minutes, but then they stop. The mosque might call people to prayer in the early morning, but it doesn't last.

Perhaps this is because I am living at the outskirts of Takoradi. Whatever the reason, I am thankful!

I don't know if I mentioned that there are two cats in the house. I think they're partially stray, but they seem clean enough. Kweku's girlfriend Grace tells me that most people don't like cats and even fewer name them.

I've named our two, however. Gato (cat in Spanish) and Mini-Gato. As far as I can tell Gato is the mother of Mini-Gato. Gato is very healthy -- a tabby with angular features and a bushy tail. Mini-Gato is a smaller version, but has a mangy looking tail.

I slip both cream and milk, to the chagrin of Kewku and Gloria.

*** Meanwhile at the Plant ***

It was another long day at work.

I got up around 6:30 a.m. and after fixing a bowl of Corn Flakes, some coffee (thank you Wendy for the french press!) I was ready for a cold shower. There is no hot water here, and there is little value in it. Even at 7 a.m. you want cold water. If there is water. This morning there wasn't.

The water service has been pretty good since I moved to Takoradi. It goes out once in a while, but for short periods -- usually less than an hour. Unfortunately, that hour is generally in the morning when I want to take a shower.

I have learned from previous experience to fill 1.5 litre water bottles with tap water for such an occurrence. So this morning when the tap was dry, I had a nice splash-splash-done "shower" with a bottle of tap water.

Wendy, who blazed the Ghana trail before me, was kind enough to set me up with not only the previously mentioned French press for coffee, but a sun shower. Basically a 5-litre water bottle with a long hose and showerhead attached. The idea is to hang it in the sun to heat the water. So tomorrow, when there is no water, I'll be able to do more than splash the pits.

My second editorial meeting was much like the first. Lots of stories offered up, a bull session about the previous day's stories and lots of finger pointing between reporters. It's a decidedly different take on the morning meeting. Unfortunately when tempers flare everyone switches to Fanti, the local language. I sit there wondering exactly what they're saying. My feeling is that it may not be nice. I miss those calm CTV meetings.

After the meeting I went out on a shoot with a young reporter named Asamoah. After telling the cameraman that I was born on a Friday, I was given my African name: Kofi. Kofi means first male child born on a Friday. Think Kofi Annan.

Our story today was simple: the local social services office is in a terrible state of disrepair -- despite assurances that measures would be taken to fix it up.

The concrete building is falling apart. There are no washrooms. The conference room has no windows or chairs and the big table was covered in dust and dirt. Raw sewage runs in an open sewer behind the building, providing mosquitoes with an excellent breeding ground.

There is no computer. No real office furniture. And no phone. The manager uses her own phone and spends about 150,000 cedis a week on calls. That's $15, which, believe me, is a lot of money here.

The reporter's hook was: if the Ministry of Social Services can't take care of itself, how can people expect it to take care of them?

We interviewed a number of people -- but not the Minister. That will be done as a folo. So the story was rather one sided in that there was no official reaction, but the local manager did make an impassioned on-camera plea.

During all this, the sun was out and it was hot. By the time we returned to the station I was drenched in sweat. Nothing like a sweaty, middle-aged white guy to turn heads in Africa.

There was a big back up in the newsroom so Asamoah and I went for a late lunch. He was terribly worried that I wouldn't like the food sold at the stall he picked. I said I was here to eat Ghanaian food, not hamburgers. He offered to take rice in case I hated my order of spicy this and that with fish. I told him to order what he wanted and not to worry about what my reaction would be. The only way to find out if you like new things is to try new things.

We took a cab and ate lunch at my place. It was great. I'm still not sick.

We walked back to the station -- about 15 minutes -- and I was drenched again. Worried staff herded me to the air-conditioned editing room. 29C never felt so good.

Editing was backed up and it became apparent that Asamoah's story wouldn't get cut in time for the 6. Here, that's not a problem. Stories are often held for the next morning's news bulletin or the following day's suppertime show.

I pulled the pin around 5:30 p.m. and walked home... stopping at a small shop for a couple of frosty beer.

By the time I was home I was drenched again. I peeled off my damp clothes and jumped into the shower. It worked. And it was cold. Aaaah. It was also an opportunity to wash my "dew rags" for tomorrow.

I'm told this is the cool time of year. I can't wait for the heat. And the rain. That'll make walking to work on a dirt road fun.

Have I mentioned that all roads leading to my home are nothing more than red dirt? Adding rainwater to that scares me.

After a long, hot day, I find I have little energy. The boys at work want to take me out and get me hammered on local hooch. I want to go (sort of), but can't imagine doing it on a school night. I think I can push it off for another week.

This weekend I am already thinking about going to the Green Turtle Lodge, which is west of here. It's about $22 US a night -- which is incredibly expensive by Ghana standards, but I think I need two days to flake out and re-charge the batteries.

Speaking of money, 10,000 cedis is worth roughly $1 US.

- Regular Beer: 70 cents.
- 500 ml beer: $1.20
- Meal in a restaurant: $4 - $10
- Taxi $2 - 3
- TroTro (mini-bus) 15 cents
- Street food $2
- Crappy coffee (250g) $3
- Good coffee (250g) $12 !!!!

By and large, it is extremely cheap here. But it's funny how your perceptions change. I look at some things as being expensive when in our reality they're not.

*** LOOK AHEAD ***

My plan for Wednesday is simple. I intend to go to the morning meeting and then head into town to fetch more things for the house. A chair would be nice!

I had originally planned to spend the week getting things set up, however, I felt obligated to spend time at the station. It's been a challenge remembering people's names -- and I am trying to remember their African names -- not their English names. If I was a Ghanaian, the last thing I would want is an old colonial name.

That's it for now. Enjoy the cold and snow! And the Pickton trial! Hahahahahaha!

Cheers!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Glad to hear you are not sick. I am envious of you getting to try the local food (& amazed that you aren't sick, but then it is good that you aren't sick!).

Cheers,
CanuckOnFire