tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80216741513943595712024-02-18T19:25:43.876-08:00Falon Goes to GhanaFalon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-27620199187247291482012-03-23T12:08:00.004-07:002012-03-23T12:34:39.174-07:00<div>
I left Ghana and flew home almost two weeks ago, but due to a little jet lag and a Spring Break trip to the Dominican Republic it's taken me a little while to post some final pictures and thoughts from my trip. Here are a few pictures of my last days at Happy Kids and the monkeys from way back. I spent my last week marching with the school for Independence Day and finally finishing the painting of the world map in the P5/P6 classroom. The map looks great and both our marching routine and my uniform were a big hit... our group won 1st place! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The uniform</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group before the march</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lined up and ready to go</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Madame marching with the Nursery Kids</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of Happy Kids</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The teachers</td></tr>
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<br />Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-45014388079034074532012-03-05T23:28:00.000-08:002012-03-05T23:30:39.059-08:00"We are the famous Happy Kids School, we never shall die."I’ve been spending lots of extra time during the afternoon and weekends at the Happy Kids School and boarding house. In the afternoon I help out with whatever chores the kids have to do (usually getting water or collecting eggs from the chicken coop) and on the weekends we’re free to play.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost done</td></tr>
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<span class="s2">Last weekend I was finally able to start the painting in the P5/P6 classroom that we’ve been planning for weeks. After having all of the kids draw a map of all of the continents as a part of a geography lesson a long time ago, they asked if they could color their maps and hang them on the wall. Their classroom was completely bare and lacks any paint or any color at all, so I thought it would be a good idea to paint one giant map on the back wall of the room. Madame Elizabeth was thrilled to hear that I wanted to paint so I told the kids I would take on the project.Two of the oldest boys, Atta Joshua and Kodjo Etornam drew the continents on the wall with chalk and then we started painting. By we I mean me and the 20 kids that eagerly followed me from the boarding house to the school to paint. Keeping 20 kids ages 10 to 16 on task without making a complete mess has been a challenge. I was told to use kerosene to get the paint off of unwanted places, so cleanup is always eventful and usually involves me pouring kerosene into their hands or rubbing their arms with a rag soaked in kerosene. I was concerned at first, but one of the other teachers told me that kerosene is just like paint thinner and always used remove paint. Apparently the kids basically bathed in kerosene after painting the boarding house. I’ve snuck to the school to paint without the kids a few times just to avoid the whole cleanup hassle. We’re almost done, but I definitely underestimated amount of time it would take and the amount of paint we would need to cover the wall. 8 days after starting and a few trips to the store for more paint and brushes the map is looking good. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kodjo drawing the continents</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Atta painting</td></tr>
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<span class="s2"></span>Ghana will be celebrating Independence Day tomorrow so Happy Kids (just like every other school in the country) has been preparing for the annual march. On the 6th all of the school kids gather in a local park or town square and march (like soldiers) in a competition to be named the school with the most original and polished routine. Happy Kids has been practicing tirelessly for the last three weeks in order to take the number one spot in the village of Gbi Wegbe for the second year in a row. For the past three weeks, after opening the day with the Happy Kids Preparatory School Song, the kids have spent time practicing their march. I practiced with the girls for a few days before being told by the headmistress that my form was good enough to join in the competition. I now fall in line every morning next to the oldest girl in the school and march around outside of the school under the direction of Felix who has taken on the role of drill sergeant. The “Sir” or as I call him, Felix, orders us to keep our lines straight as we march, lift our arms shoulder level and mark time loudly with our feet. We spend at least an hour every morning practicing and just added in our “style” or dance that will be added to our salute. The 6th March is no joke and all of the students take it pretty seriously so I wasn’t sure if I would make the final cut until the headmistress let me know that I would need a uniform like the other girls. Tomorrow morning I will be ready to go, in my new green and yellow short sleeve pleated dress. I promise to share some pictures.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyWTrxs0VCZO0_PHGjyUaL2zRoDQ1z-sgh89haCh0oJgZKM4P1HtrgXyJ_PGi7To1_YdyrpO82iJsGvbpUXEM_C1Wf52lvkfB6K0Gch6oaqR1go3NivOKQQVbcSlybQEehVghEvtwJkea/s1600/TireSwing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyWTrxs0VCZO0_PHGjyUaL2zRoDQ1z-sgh89haCh0oJgZKM4P1HtrgXyJ_PGi7To1_YdyrpO82iJsGvbpUXEM_C1Wf52lvkfB6K0Gch6oaqR1go3NivOKQQVbcSlybQEehVghEvtwJkea/s200/TireSwing.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prince and Eric on the<br />
tire swing after school<br />
(they're both in the KG class)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span class="s2">Breaking news... there’s a new teacher at Happy Kids. Around the same time he started, the regular kindergarden teacher disappeared. Because the new teacher was hired to teach my P5/P6 class I was bumped... again. I’m not the most patient person in the world and had a solid routine with the older kids, so I was super bummed about the move down to the outdoor kindergarden class with 17 rambunctious 5 to 8 year olds. Happy Kids starts teaching kids English when they’re still in the nursery, so luckily the kids all know basic English. With the help of one of the nursery instructors I was able to quickly establish some solid behavioral expectations and quickly move into their English. We’ve been working through the alphabet day by day with each day dedicated to one letter. The skill level of the class is greatly varied and some of the kids haven’t really been taught how to write yet so we spend the morning reviewing the sound of the letter and doing different reading or writing activities. If I’m feeling fun, we do some sort of arts and crafts activity or word game focused on the specific letter. This is my third week with the KG 1 & 2 class and while it was definitely a rough transition to make, I’m slowly establishing a new routine.</span></div>
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<span class="s2">The move to the kindergarden class means that I’ve taught all but one class at Happy Kids. When the headmistress pointed this out to me I also realized that currently I am the teacher at the school with the most seniority. My 7 weeks at the school is longer than all of the other teachers except for the 2 women in the nursery and the computer teacher (who hasn’t taught in a while because none of the computers work). Two of them are the headmistress’ kids and also live in or right next to the boarding house.</span></div>
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<span class="s2">Speaking of teachers, I feel like I should properly introduce all of the Happy Kids staff members.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhQsJP93L0OAmJ77fPM-pgorZMQBbIcCgWBqjZSABZfAWC0rnfEaeBDp7pgydb3_Kwobi7PgGn52Sf87zd4f6DsaN9jbmhHm_BeBSXEOS3PAPNL0A1Lwfp5jVAgC-ts476lHpf8i8V3Ba/s1600/Frances.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhQsJP93L0OAmJ77fPM-pgorZMQBbIcCgWBqjZSABZfAWC0rnfEaeBDp7pgydb3_Kwobi7PgGn52Sf87zd4f6DsaN9jbmhHm_BeBSXEOS3PAPNL0A1Lwfp5jVAgC-ts476lHpf8i8V3Ba/s200/Frances.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frances</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="s2">Madame Elizabeth is the headmistress at Happy Kids and one of the women who started the school in 1995. While she doesn’t have an education background, she lives in the boarding house with the kids and is basically raising all of them. She is super friendly, but strict. </span>Sister Pat is Madame Elizabeth’s daughter who works in the nursery (or teaches kindergarden when they’re left without a teacher) and handles most of the administrative duties of the school. She’s the voice of reason at Happy Kids, which is great because she’s hilarious and the kids love her. Immanuel is Madame Elizabeth’s son and the ICT (Information Computer Technology) teacher at Happy Kids. They used to have a few nice Dell computers, but they all died recently so Immanuel just fills in for whatever teacher is missing when he’s there. Makafe is the main nursery ‘instructor’, but spends most of her time just watching the 40 2 to 4 year olds in the nursery. She’s 22 and very quiet, but always lets me steal kids from the nursery and is willing to help me figure out how to properly tie the fabric to carry a kid on my back. For the past few weeks I've been heading into the nursery to take one of three kids into my classroom. Mommy, Kofi and Frances are all new to Happy Kids and seem to enjoy getting out of the crowded nursery every once in a while. Frances is only 18 months old and loves sleeping on my back while I’m with the kindergartners.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrj1vQgHrnwLZYtxzQzwtLZlWwD6Nf0K3-uxw_QYDzzwEOK553J45MSO-IOP3WHdvHqi4Te5Say7pVdyaRx2dxMu51eBiMQNL_Rt5cmyyiuNNuVM0A6Vxt505wWVoz7u2Esu6-WW7J-0r/s1600/Mommy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrj1vQgHrnwLZYtxzQzwtLZlWwD6Nf0K3-uxw_QYDzzwEOK553J45MSO-IOP3WHdvHqi4Te5Say7pVdyaRx2dxMu51eBiMQNL_Rt5cmyyiuNNuVM0A6Vxt505wWVoz7u2Esu6-WW7J-0r/s200/Mommy.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mommy</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2xb8tY5H8pp9WfrYyXosHnX3OXMWsekDhmP44VbtvxMpnmAav4z4fkLq0cPyedu6CuET4KAqlyZLo73j3Kodru7efoDlL4zAlxf8UgszTIWEuX0sZ0zvJ5SUr7Hak_nxozjqdVpok2gG/s1600/Kofi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2xb8tY5H8pp9WfrYyXosHnX3OXMWsekDhmP44VbtvxMpnmAav4z4fkLq0cPyedu6CuET4KAqlyZLo73j3Kodru7efoDlL4zAlxf8UgszTIWEuX0sZ0zvJ5SUr7Hak_nxozjqdVpok2gG/s200/Kofi.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kofi</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Felix is the teacher who was hired to take over my original P3/P4 class. He’s 25 and recently graduated from a teachers college here in Ghana. He’s a trained teacher and knows what he’s doing which is good, but he is quite the character. He’s a bro and the kids think he’s great even though he always seems to be making them run errands for him, canning them with a stick, or embarrassing them in some way. He makes the kids dust off his shoes when they get dirty and his favorite response to a wrong answer or silly outburst is, “Oh, you’re a fool!”. I’ve seen him hit kids with a Bible during Wednesday worship service and his favorite punishment is making kids kneel in the front of the room or in the dirt outside of the school. On Friday, all morning classes were cancelled because he bought a net to setup a new volleyball court at the school. He made the boys trim the grass and clear all of the brush and palm tree leaves out of the way and then made them play in order to “build their physical education”. He sounds horrible, but we get along great and helped me tailor a few English lessons to the small P5/P6 class. I think he’ll be a great source of stability for the school.<br />
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<span class="s2">David is the newest addition to the Happy Kids team and is now teaching the P5/P6 class. He’s very quiet and pretty much just doing whatever Felix tells him to do for now. </span></div>
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<span class="s2">Due to Independence Day, the school is closed tomorrow and Wednesday, but I’ll probably spend both days with the kids. Tomorrow for the march and Wednesday just hanging out at the boarding house. Friday is my last day at the school and I’m sure that saying goodbye to the kids will be the hardest part about leaving. </span></div>
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Random Things I’ve Noticed/Learned:<br />
<ul>
<li class="li1"><span class="s2">I wake up early some mornings to walk around the neighborhood and am always surprised at how busy Hohoe is at that time. Everyone seems to have been awake for hours and well along in their daily routine. People are always friendly but usually seem confused as to where or why I’m walking that early. I’ve noticed that the guys on their way to work with machetes tend to be the friendliest and they always wish me a fine morning. </span></li>
<li class="li1">I let the kids take turns using my ipod while painting if they were well behaved. It was a great way to keep them from painting all over each other, but they were disappointed to see that I don't have any Beatles songs on my ipod. Their favorite artists seem to be JayZ and Cee-Lo Green.</li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s2">Everyone calls each other “Chalie”. It’s like bro or buddy and has slowly made its way into my vocabulary.</span></li>
<li class="li1">Someone sent a box of toys to the boarding house last week. The toys that the kids are most excited about are the Sing-A-Ma-Jigs that sing weird songs and talk to each other. The young kids are kind of scared of them, the girls think they're strange, but the older boys love them. </li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s2">The best way to add a dramatic effect to any statement in Ewe is to start or end it with ‘oh’ or ‘la’. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s2">If someone wants a coconut at the Happy Kids boarding house, one of the boys just climbs a tree and throws one down. I’ve thought about suggesting that someone just throws down a bunch at once to store in the kitchen, but their way just seems to be more fun.</span></li>
</ul>
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</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydjvjVgBurjbXEmHpkn99v21piryd66_KvHMclluaMG6I3x3zETxxsvsvxSBYsDKcAjDkkcVjkiEkJKyWhyNnrFO43IJqpM0RObZHWnJ_EPP1bonSD6LciEF0reh2UPUelCV1NABN9-sG/s1600/BoysandDolls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydjvjVgBurjbXEmHpkn99v21piryd66_KvHMclluaMG6I3x3zETxxsvsvxSBYsDKcAjDkkcVjkiEkJKyWhyNnrFO43IJqpM0RObZHWnJ_EPP1bonSD6LciEF0reh2UPUelCV1NABN9-sG/s200/BoysandDolls.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sing-A-Ma-Jigs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmQy-3ayvAPYoaLzWw01fmZ9g8lHbCYRmIrBkB7CfBQ1ZKTahOo8n3tH5_PGk9eUSQqUv7HBZZCxRzymE18R2vHEKxEykHadeyVLnQrGGS0XcoD4AjK5S7ZXTdq0wzlyVn8Uyq_lEvBlB/s1600/Climbingthetree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmQy-3ayvAPYoaLzWw01fmZ9g8lHbCYRmIrBkB7CfBQ1ZKTahOo8n3tH5_PGk9eUSQqUv7HBZZCxRzymE18R2vHEKxEykHadeyVLnQrGGS0XcoD4AjK5S7ZXTdq0wzlyVn8Uyq_lEvBlB/s200/Climbingthetree.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Atta going up the tree for a coconut</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-4738272998776914642012-02-28T14:29:00.002-08:002012-02-28T14:36:22.696-08:00Winner, Winner, Chicken DinnerI realize it’s been a while since my last post, but I’ve been keeping myself busy here in Hohoe. The past two weeks have been filled extra hours at Happy Kids and visiting the regulars around town. I was glad that our schedule finally calmed down a bit and we stopped doing all of the touristy Africa stuff. There are a lot of new things going on at Happy Kids so I’ll dedicate a full update on that sometime soon, but for now I’ll share the story of my chicken dinner.<br />
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<span class="s1">A while back I mentioned to the guys at the shop that I wanted to kill a chicken and cook it. They said that would be easy to do if I actually went through with it... so last weekend we made it happen. I figured since I’ve eaten a lot of chicken in my lifetime and was sure to be continuing my carnivorish ways I should be able to do it myself. We scheduled a large saturday chicken dinner complete with yams and kelewele (fried plaintains cut up really small and cooked with lots of spices). </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9-hsevm4c3ge3GYbHHqI2mXCzExBjqhWu4TEPhx_fTt7L2_t5D70nihyc-55SP1EnLsxGd6PN08Mo5_cKsbR8RXJg8F0y8XL5e1diZrdf3dFM81eNbFp8z7ZtDSOWnPlCOVrpk4Zhjql/s1600/ChickenCoop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9-hsevm4c3ge3GYbHHqI2mXCzExBjqhWu4TEPhx_fTt7L2_t5D70nihyc-55SP1EnLsxGd6PN08Mo5_cKsbR8RXJg8F0y8XL5e1diZrdf3dFM81eNbFp8z7ZtDSOWnPlCOVrpk4Zhjql/s200/ChickenCoop.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chicken Coop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">After some questioning about what would be involved in killing the chicken, I learned that Courage had the most experience in killing animals to cook them so we took the lead on the meal. We went to a nearby chicken coop where I sized up the chickens and picked out one of the fatter hens. The woman tied up its legs and its wings and Courage and I made our way down the street to begin preparing the meal. The word had gotten around that I would be killing a chicken that afternoon so all of the guys gathered at Godson’s house to witness the event. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJV3drv5vN82fbNKW4SoSWrWlxnhqCJXkAuRG_NpkqgaPkOLOCyp0UgGhCRI1hrV6j7o8gfG3AcOIYFwS2fWlwa9lsFk0XYCdVI-NLq22eXpN-KTeoJ1ftMiMYcjr4JfaIaRXwcuKJhlX/s1600/Beforethekilling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJV3drv5vN82fbNKW4SoSWrWlxnhqCJXkAuRG_NpkqgaPkOLOCyp0UgGhCRI1hrV6j7o8gfG3AcOIYFwS2fWlwa9lsFk0XYCdVI-NLq22eXpN-KTeoJ1ftMiMYcjr4JfaIaRXwcuKJhlX/s200/Beforethekilling.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the killing</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">I’ll skip all of the bloody details, but the whole thing was much harder than I thought it would be. Long story short... we dug a hole, pulled some feathers from the chickens neck and I was instructed on how to properly hold the chicken in order to cut his neck and let the blood spill into the hole. I got about half way through when I just couldn’t do it and Courage quickly stepped in to put the chicken out of its misery. </span></div>
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We then dipped the chicken in boiling water to loosen his feathers, plucked it, burned the extra small feathers off and watched as Courage butchered it up. I’ll save the pictures of the butchering for those who are really interested. After the chicken was all cut up we boiled it with lots of seasoning and fried it with our little outdoor stove. Once the yams and kelewele were ready we gathered around the table to eat Ghanaian style, with everyone using their right hands to dig into the piles of food in the middle. The guys made sure that Mike and I got the best pieces of meat and they wasted none of the chicken. Almost every part of the chicken was eaten including the head, feet and bones in the legs. The kelewele and the yams with the special red sauce were delicious, but the chicken was too tough for me. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2tt0QUMohCdjRFcPJTHgW1ZIZEyj4w4LO1m2Alh-LEcQbrObxKDTNbylc2rVJiNLL4tpQjJqkmEIi0baRWrJwVHX000B-1oCsfoFZLdPKJhyphenhyphenh3EJ5BbmRJRXTO7O3sXtoA1ik7e3-UUk/s1600/DeadChicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij2tt0QUMohCdjRFcPJTHgW1ZIZEyj4w4LO1m2Alh-LEcQbrObxKDTNbylc2rVJiNLL4tpQjJqkmEIi0baRWrJwVHX000B-1oCsfoFZLdPKJhyphenhyphenh3EJ5BbmRJRXTO7O3sXtoA1ik7e3-UUk/s200/DeadChicken.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to be plucked</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4tqvbU-zdshx4HrzpP6pOmB05N5E4UJphD-q5qYt_UYW8aDmhB0fq8_H23Gc4CQvCgAMAjjvnDKoNr4-nar8vIdQKQZKR9_Fl5Kj1JPLZFBO7uRU6sS4eLvkgQFXDj-u_IaCtv9o9n83/s1600/Boilingthechicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4tqvbU-zdshx4HrzpP6pOmB05N5E4UJphD-q5qYt_UYW8aDmhB0fq8_H23Gc4CQvCgAMAjjvnDKoNr4-nar8vIdQKQZKR9_Fl5Kj1JPLZFBO7uRU6sS4eLvkgQFXDj-u_IaCtv9o9n83/s200/Boilingthechicken.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boiling before frying the chicken</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span class="s1">We spent the rest of the night sitting and talking outside after toasting to new friends and me killing my first chicken. I say first because we’re planning another big dinner for before I leave. I’ll either get another try at a chicken or move up to a turkey.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Random Things I’ve Learned/Noticed:</span></div>
<ul>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Real cheese doesn't exist here. They have the small spreadable Laughing Cow kind, but that's it. The kids in my class had no clue what cheese was and it's really hard to accurately describe.</span></li>
<li class="li1">When I walk around town by myself, I don't get the Yovo call or get followed by herds of waving children. I've also noticed that more and more people try to talk to me in Ewe when I'm out and about and are surprised when I respond in English.</li>
<li class="li1">Because thin plastic bags are cheaper than plastic bottles, many items are sold in a little plastic bag of some sort. Pure water comes in a 500ml bag, salt is sold in a bag and bars sell little baggies of gin or bitters. It's a good way to keep costs down, but all of these bags just end up on the side of the road. </li>
<li class="li1">Rainy season started last week so we've been getting a solid 30 minute storm every other day or so. The rain is good because it cools everything off, but has also brought out tons of bugs.</li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Midterms were last week at Happy Kids any didn’t involve exams of any kind. Midterms mean that all of the students at Happy Kids must have half of their semester school fees payed. The school was closed for two days so that students who hadn’t payed yet were able to go home to help their parents earn the money. The few kids that hadn’t payed spent the two days helping their parents in their shop, working on the family farm or selling items at the market.</span></li>
</ul>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-401946725439648432012-02-13T12:54:00.000-08:002012-02-13T14:30:24.902-08:00A Snake and a GoatIt's been an eventful weekend...<br />
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<span class="s1">A huge snake was spotted behind Happy Kids, from my window on Friday morning. The entire school instantly paused all classroom activities to try to kill it. Apparently this happens quite frequently because there was a definite plan of attack. This is the 10 step plan to catch a snake on the run around the Happy Kids School:</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pSX7qYiE3SXUjs59WefBJuYG9uOTGk2sGnCG1JxidOYVHcQNaAgSEkwQKEjKh7h6KAPRRQqjI5X_Xj_iEjpJ3z4Fa6y0Fn7Nxwd8kuZUGe5RqA9nJcSPXfUczTynjinuLaldlQEOmmQP/s1600/Pipe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pSX7qYiE3SXUjs59WefBJuYG9uOTGk2sGnCG1JxidOYVHcQNaAgSEkwQKEjKh7h6KAPRRQqjI5X_Xj_iEjpJ3z4Fa6y0Fn7Nxwd8kuZUGe5RqA9nJcSPXfUczTynjinuLaldlQEOmmQP/s200/Pipe.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nelson during the snake hunt</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">1. If the snake was spotted from a 2nd floor window, drop a huge slab of cement on it </span><br />
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<span class="s1"> a. </span>If the snake runs, it's alive and needs to be chased. Continue to step 2.</div>
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b. If the snake doesn’t run, it’s dead and no more work is needed</div>
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2. Alert all of the teachers, nursery staff and the headmistress about the snake sighting<br />
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<span class="s1"> a. This will cause all of the students to run outside to join the hunt</span></div>
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3. Gather all objects that could be used to fight off or spear the snake (this should include 4x4’s, long pieces of plywood and metal pipes)</div>
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4. Assemble a watch team to stay on the 2nd floor to keep an eye out for the snake or any sudden movements in the grass</div>
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5. Find matches</div>
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<span class="s1"> a. If matches can not be found in the office, get the fastest boy to run to the boarding house to get a new pack of matches</span></div>
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6. Light pieces of the brush on fire in areas where the snake could be hiding to flush him out into the open</div>
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a. If snake doesn’t respond to the original flame, light lots of little fires to scare him</div>
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7. Chase snake to new hiding spot while throwing rocks at it (this step is tricky because some people will want to run away from the snake) </div>
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8. Stand on alert near the snake’s new hiding spot with spears ready to attack</div>
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9. Throw an occasional rock into the bushes to scare the snake</div>
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10. If the snake cannot be found, return to step 6</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yn3tEMh1460yCCVjP31xQPGf1ythStWelMkGE_8esZPYIHCtZutXW6tBaHma0RsAoGO1Idk1Aqai_en0-isuHzYXRzIhZxM8On7RgVMdnTe_ZYMQH3QFb5zxoLfJ0Lam1MtoGgrB0AHv/s1600/FirstFire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yn3tEMh1460yCCVjP31xQPGf1ythStWelMkGE_8esZPYIHCtZutXW6tBaHma0RsAoGO1Idk1Aqai_en0-isuHzYXRzIhZxM8On7RgVMdnTe_ZYMQH3QFb5zxoLfJ0Lam1MtoGgrB0AHv/s200/FirstFire.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking for the snake after <br />
starting the first fire</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1jCmqTdBa_tDscEeElnE_6EXbEziA34SZXWGFyMR6f2mb9aB6sWpBi_AJRy60dm7-KPtKdWhi16mHn6OS1NRmhn-X0nAjObKztQTHnrpAH3XGPvvqUjSN1DAhkJAjydq-mMU9PEuIHl04/s1600/Watching.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1jCmqTdBa_tDscEeElnE_6EXbEziA34SZXWGFyMR6f2mb9aB6sWpBi_AJRy60dm7-KPtKdWhi16mHn6OS1NRmhn-X0nAjObKztQTHnrpAH3XGPvvqUjSN1DAhkJAjydq-mMU9PEuIHl04/s200/Watching.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone on alert at the snake's <br />
new hiding place</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBfysPSEO-aPQqxbQShfPkbNpLla8mb38mkhZVvoo7AYe6MlSkuCp4cssA5Nqt0jPDV2JV7mRjHiI9Q25c-YHSLj3i75sVyA0in6T1GQZmUyKRUK8fELAs5udAtEYuFjrYdS1AMv1G8S8/s1600/Watch2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBfysPSEO-aPQqxbQShfPkbNpLla8mb38mkhZVvoo7AYe6MlSkuCp4cssA5Nqt0jPDV2JV7mRjHiI9Q25c-YHSLj3i75sVyA0in6T1GQZmUyKRUK8fELAs5udAtEYuFjrYdS1AMv1G8S8/s200/Watch2.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the 2nd floor lookout team</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yn3tEMh1460yCCVjP31xQPGf1ythStWelMkGE_8esZPYIHCtZutXW6tBaHma0RsAoGO1Idk1Aqai_en0-isuHzYXRzIhZxM8On7RgVMdnTe_ZYMQH3QFb5zxoLfJ0Lam1MtoGgrB0AHv/s1600/FirstFire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q65JQZEOT64tjJIK33qyBlSVquE5vgCTEXcxnO2kLF5NgHcmLKCBijYLTKy3UT8TGmYLoU0Ge4BHW0DOVsC2wnilk6X4AxL8YFgwJIH2Sfsjj5CaF1DWu3Lyg7w6-DMuF8IZS3OKvQBo/s1600/PalmFire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q65JQZEOT64tjJIK33qyBlSVquE5vgCTEXcxnO2kLF5NgHcmLKCBijYLTKy3UT8TGmYLoU0Ge4BHW0DOVsC2wnilk6X4AxL8YFgwJIH2Sfsjj5CaF1DWu3Lyg7w6-DMuF8IZS3OKvQBo/s200/PalmFire.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">The big palm tree next to the school was<br />
set on fire after returning to step 6</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">We chased the snake from behind the school into a heavy brush area with a big palm tree and weren’t able to find it. When we returned to step 6 of this process, the headmistress instructed someone to light the palm tree on fire. The tree burned for a while, but the snake was no where to be found. We finally gave up and headed back inside after we had been on the snake hunt for about 45 minutes. The new teacher, Felix, thought that the snake had run away, but everyone left their branches, pipes and pieces of wood by the front door of the school so they could get to them faster if the snake was spotted again.</span></div>
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I don’t think theres a way to ease into this, so I’ll just put it out there. I ate goat on Saturday. </div>
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<span class="s1">Nicole and I headed into town to meet up with the guys at the shop and were reminded that we would be spending the afternoon making fufu. Saturday was Nicole’s last day in Hohoe, so a special meal was needed to properly see her off.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-V2YoRCZ3wFfowOzRbl1sxXSYVp_4g0f4vaFgTIhCrPXif1xZiAcbd5gSKAB9psO90xKYxUTmzzxCGuU5DSrxAOPkF2TfX7JpFLXpOsG-yaQYtqG6hHmvaGterm2gsh2hXZRd_QKxxDs/s1600/TheSoup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-V2YoRCZ3wFfowOzRbl1sxXSYVp_4g0f4vaFgTIhCrPXif1xZiAcbd5gSKAB9psO90xKYxUTmzzxCGuU5DSrxAOPkF2TfX7JpFLXpOsG-yaQYtqG6hHmvaGterm2gsh2hXZRd_QKxxDs/s200/TheSoup.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The soup</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Fufu is a popular dish here in West Africa and is usually prepared with cassava and yams or plantains. (We used cassava and plantains.) Preparing fufu is a strenuous task that involves boiling the cassava and plantains and then pounding them into a dough with a huge wooden mortar and pestle. The dough is then eaten with a special soup with a tomato base and added onions, green peppers and ginger for flavor. Because Saturday was such a special occasion, our soup included a whole Red Fish and some goat meat. </span>I helped cut up the vegetables for the soup, but was only able to help a little with pounding the cassava and plantain. This is by far the hardest I’ve ever seen anyone work for a meal. As the cassava got doughier, I could barely even lift the pestle out of the mush to mash it more. Courage and Enoch took turns pounding the starchy foods into dough for about 40 minutes while I held the bottom of the mortar in place with my feet. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTdBhWdCdouBYXGDwolgA5W08jCtLapGr1jItbgohzWqHGRv4lYUQWULSoYzR06rEMxpTOJepa8NediwLttlJ-K-dmTmPfQnI1mGDJtW9Ns_9zqZSu1RpFcuTHIo5jxhMQiSE3bfJavGEw/s1600/Fufu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTdBhWdCdouBYXGDwolgA5W08jCtLapGr1jItbgohzWqHGRv4lYUQWULSoYzR06rEMxpTOJepa8NediwLttlJ-K-dmTmPfQnI1mGDJtW9Ns_9zqZSu1RpFcuTHIo5jxhMQiSE3bfJavGEw/s200/Fufu.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pounding the Cassava</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzuGh8UeHutnXhBuT-u8UugHGL8oIhANh1lyB-3qEglao1h-xvsPp-KQ7sqrDnlnBzQFb_RiEPfYfA_6tD7LrcA0e7GWKqZtD-cTsuGovo8KsPcYZsTeE_Ujp0fnXL6t1ql_X3EIYVeOI/s1600/CourageFufu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzuGh8UeHutnXhBuT-u8UugHGL8oIhANh1lyB-3qEglao1h-xvsPp-KQ7sqrDnlnBzQFb_RiEPfYfA_6tD7LrcA0e7GWKqZtD-cTsuGovo8KsPcYZsTeE_Ujp0fnXL6t1ql_X3EIYVeOI/s200/CourageFufu.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courage. The fufu master.</td></tr>
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Once the dough was done, the soup was poured over it into a bowl and set on the table. After washing only my right hand in the water bowl (as is custom here in Ghana because the left is considered unclean) I pulled up a seat around the table with Nicole with the 4 guys. Everyone dug in and after asking a few questions about what exactly the goat meat would taste like, I finally tried it. I was nervous but it wasn’t bad at all... kind of like a more chewy piece of beef. I told the guys I thought the meet was really chewy so they gave me a different piece to try. I noticed the texture was completely different and when I asked why, they said because that was a liver piece. After hearing that, I quickly traded my piece of goat meat in for some of the red fish. I thought the fish was great, but it took me a while to figure out how to eat around the bones while only using my right hand. I’ll need a little more practice and don’t plan on eating any more goat, but was glad to finally have a truly traditional Ghanian meal. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThjLUqL0DtFlezbhrQvFhVmg7Ad9GO9bF0btbbLUgm7kfDYAC7DHqWJ5JYed9wYYNR_3HfSyTIsaCgDyc9WNNmXCLbaOUu6L6zG-pITrDRjo64Sjp8qy6f3uOSZQdEWy3-POpKD5op_nG/s1600/AllofusEating.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThjLUqL0DtFlezbhrQvFhVmg7Ad9GO9bF0btbbLUgm7kfDYAC7DHqWJ5JYed9wYYNR_3HfSyTIsaCgDyc9WNNmXCLbaOUu6L6zG-pITrDRjo64Sjp8qy6f3uOSZQdEWy3-POpKD5op_nG/s200/AllofusEating.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of us around the table</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhpeaDhc853zwNnsGEr9L78F5jFAthwD16AmemNMFPk0VqVmBjNcl8ygkG1byp4tni-Mw22UYbhqpq6YrisduwgcHphcGhT0KbmObQS7Odej3rJkmLSLPFOQJ1MCbkZ8i0LcVVS7pHXED/s1600/Fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhpeaDhc853zwNnsGEr9L78F5jFAthwD16AmemNMFPk0VqVmBjNcl8ygkG1byp4tni-Mw22UYbhqpq6YrisduwgcHphcGhT0KbmObQS7Odej3rJkmLSLPFOQJ1MCbkZ8i0LcVVS7pHXED/s200/Fish.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The so-called Red Fish that <br />
went into the soup... whole</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-aB2PSJ9uExVfIj1S_AhiKczc1naPe4KNwRg2cIY4o57QJHwgTyCTMn1jKTNeEJrE5sxvQQfk12pYyMpMBlBFcEpXBWyGY2SnNtQBMgY5c3TkKjiDIPGoBG52vfQZC4xtD4rxHp2hfcA/s1600/FinalMeal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-aB2PSJ9uExVfIj1S_AhiKczc1naPe4KNwRg2cIY4o57QJHwgTyCTMn1jKTNeEJrE5sxvQQfk12pYyMpMBlBFcEpXBWyGY2SnNtQBMgY5c3TkKjiDIPGoBG52vfQZC4xtD4rxHp2hfcA/s200/FinalMeal.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final meal</td></tr>
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While we ate, one of the guys shared a story about his experience killing a goat and the rest talked about other foods that they thought we should try. I told them that I want to kill my own chicken, pluck it and cook it with them before leaving. They said that wouldn’t be too hard to do, so we’ll see.<br />
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<span class="s1">Random Things I’ve Noticed/Learned:</span></div>
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<li class="li1"><span class="s1">'I’m coming' means a lot of different things, but usually never ‘here I come’ or ‘I’m coming right now’. Most people say 'I’m coming' to mean ‘hold on’, ‘I’ll be there in a minute’,‘I’m leaving for a while’ or ‘I’ll be right back’. This may sound confusing, but I usually can figure out exactly what they mean.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">The majority of people in Hohoe are Christian, but there is a small Muslim population who lives in their own special area of town. I thought the separation was interesting, because all of the Muslim residents of Hohoe only live in that part of town. I finally crossed the bridge and ventured into the Muslim part of town this weekend. Like in the rest of Hohoe, everyone was very friendly. The only real difference is that most Muslims in Hohoe speak Housa amongst themselves, not Ewe.</span></li>
<li class="li1">Sitting under a big mango tree is usually the only option for air conditioning. There's lots of shade and usually a nice breeze.</li>
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</div>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-6441951200574742402012-02-11T15:41:00.000-08:002012-02-11T16:22:30.495-08:00Mia Dogo. We will meet again.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUoZ98QVFoYXoJeUXCAIivRO9J5_Zi72YAoQo83_EhKALUHCEpvZXTqaBzaPapVNrI9KOquBTZVYDoxbI7TfrtdYudQ46prt4PwMCvOqV6CpfX4sYrkYMDYIn3WH-kr3bGZ6fJZ-O7bZR/s1600/CraftyArt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUoZ98QVFoYXoJeUXCAIivRO9J5_Zi72YAoQo83_EhKALUHCEpvZXTqaBzaPapVNrI9KOquBTZVYDoxbI7TfrtdYudQ46prt4PwMCvOqV6CpfX4sYrkYMDYIn3WH-kr3bGZ6fJZ-O7bZR/s200/CraftyArt.jpg" width="200" /></a> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Crafty Art Shop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="s1">Last weekend was the first weekend that the whole group stayed in Hohoe instead of taking some sort of trip. I was glad to have some down time, but even more excited to have time to visit the people I’ve met around town. A few of us had spent some time looking at the artwork in one shop called ‘Crafty Art’ where the guys inside always invited us to stay and hang out. Last Friday afternoon, we had the time and finally went down to the shop just to talk. We easily spent 3 hours there just getting to know the guys that work there and talking about anything and everything. We talked about music, gender roles, the upcoming presidential elections in both Ghana and America and the term African-American. They are a special group and kind of remind me of some friends from home. Their group includes the quiet artist, the politician, the goofy little brother, the lovable drunk and the renaissance man who draws, paints, sings and writes poetry. The conversation in the shop is always interesting, but I am always most impressed by the artwork they are able to create almost effortlessly. Their rasta friend comes around every once in a while, but they don't seem to ever know what he's doing. I’ve seen numerous paintings sketched and completed and chairs carved out of wood while we’re just there hanging out. Here are a few of pictures of some of the guys.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf41vBea0mtT1sGQWO32qclS4SYwMrqRJOeivrj87aIUKmX0-4HcRFPw946lY2ZTYIOvXSoSgLY_IF7DdLvYygKnVipzVnLEtSbif7YHIDAX_fAKIUKkvWECTuEEn8sV8dua_6aYLXr2Tr/s1600/Courage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf41vBea0mtT1sGQWO32qclS4SYwMrqRJOeivrj87aIUKmX0-4HcRFPw946lY2ZTYIOvXSoSgLY_IF7DdLvYygKnVipzVnLEtSbif7YHIDAX_fAKIUKkvWECTuEEn8sV8dua_6aYLXr2Tr/s200/Courage.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwf5J40Wr8awqMXYIjoTovAqMLGslpi6pNdSwiCzTQQ30b2A6DnbKFxz-PkBFk70iQRzuufd6sqYj_T3hto1d28j3f_CcbvM920SAKQ5bT99-bvlqx8FodJx2dEEd6iwHxdyuIjyZ96jIa/s1600/InsideCraftyArt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwf5J40Wr8awqMXYIjoTovAqMLGslpi6pNdSwiCzTQQ30b2A6DnbKFxz-PkBFk70iQRzuufd6sqYj_T3hto1d28j3f_CcbvM920SAKQ5bT99-bvlqx8FodJx2dEEd6iwHxdyuIjyZ96jIa/s200/InsideCraftyArt.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Shop </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqLeukcUC5RetWc3xrYIddC7JRQW_OQ_bq2achyl93CllKNHh91oTx0o4fWisnbfO3AWMSRf8cxqZd9vfCG9-9-Q2iRNmn7_k7aYcECVVhlwhuXlUs0KR9U3aJiOHcT4pGX_NREgxkhcuQ/s1600/Yao.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqLeukcUC5RetWc3xrYIddC7JRQW_OQ_bq2achyl93CllKNHh91oTx0o4fWisnbfO3AWMSRf8cxqZd9vfCG9-9-Q2iRNmn7_k7aYcECVVhlwhuXlUs0KR9U3aJiOHcT4pGX_NREgxkhcuQ/s200/Yao.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yao </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EueGYJksrIWrhO6F18Cs9LQURGBqMYaiHXKnof6TGAWAQkKwVbvHkeXmlLNpFe_r0xZ1RkaFMPUuqTQAkJukKYAHSYYX8WsHDN4XpbjinS-1I_s-KRuIRKF_y3hhfyY1X1n3ALELqyA9/s1600/Godson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EueGYJksrIWrhO6F18Cs9LQURGBqMYaiHXKnof6TGAWAQkKwVbvHkeXmlLNpFe_r0xZ1RkaFMPUuqTQAkJukKYAHSYYX8WsHDN4XpbjinS-1I_s-KRuIRKF_y3hhfyY1X1n3ALELqyA9/s200/Godson.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Godson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VBo21dn78kJ-hY4BOtgmwvXXk5_yTgEmRTLNnczsP2BefOKRNBXpzB9Rkek_Veq399GA0wMEzmzRAEejdWHpxjcjX_EnOKG83kr27SHXwOWOAg2A_A8LGW19pagvvu3bwCNUKJAlgoAb/s1600/Koffie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VBo21dn78kJ-hY4BOtgmwvXXk5_yTgEmRTLNnczsP2BefOKRNBXpzB9Rkek_Veq399GA0wMEzmzRAEejdWHpxjcjX_EnOKG83kr27SHXwOWOAg2A_A8LGW19pagvvu3bwCNUKJAlgoAb/s200/Koffie.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Koffie<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66X1W_Qn2XYHOv7RrXsQIJ2qZwIQ81yatfLHKPH6LNF1vC7QCMhWaGJq-iuAe5FQeq4Aq7ZDhdP6Gim-URtDxTHW67FTwqgHvhsPNeCkJIna-xvUWS9upKkZ8daC_0dcD-tkKg67yNM0M/s1600/EnochPainting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66X1W_Qn2XYHOv7RrXsQIJ2qZwIQ81yatfLHKPH6LNF1vC7QCMhWaGJq-iuAe5FQeq4Aq7ZDhdP6Gim-URtDxTHW67FTwqgHvhsPNeCkJIna-xvUWS9upKkZ8daC_0dcD-tkKg67yNM0M/s200/EnochPainting.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enoch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkB1PZBA5Ge8AlAj6J0h4H-pj-50iWstOZ9cQCisf2Cql8O5InSjuMzriGuXOYmMBRYkn3-AdRH3aqVkqg3BIhyzP6rtDUpusxBpVtBJQnu6_hsczQcJL1a1s4BmK_g4Twk6lZk9cyod70/s1600/FreeHands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkB1PZBA5Ge8AlAj6J0h4H-pj-50iWstOZ9cQCisf2Cql8O5InSjuMzriGuXOYmMBRYkn3-AdRH3aqVkqg3BIhyzP6rtDUpusxBpVtBJQnu6_hsczQcJL1a1s4BmK_g4Twk6lZk9cyod70/s200/FreeHands.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Free Hands</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
On both Friday and Saturday nights we met up with the guys from the shop at our new favorite spot, Obama Gardens. We gathered around a large table (with our favorite server Divine) and taught each other our favorite drinking games. The guys seem to like 4 and Kings the most and I am excited to bring the shoulder game (better known as free hands) back to the States. </div>
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<span class="s1">--</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">On Sunday morning, myself and another volunteer attended Assemblies of God Pentecostal Church with our staff member Rebecca. We arrived for Sunday School a little after 8:30am and the morning service started promptly at 9:30 as promised. The service and style of worship was very similar to Pentecostal services I’ve seen in the U.S. with lots of singing and dancing. The choir even sang a song that I recognized from my home church, “Higher, Higher”. The one thing that surprised me was how many people from the congregation were invited to the front of the church to speak. One man came up to give a large donation to the New Building Fund and told a lengthy story about how he had came about the money. Others were specifically asked to come up to testify and some just wanted to make an announcement. I also thought it was interesting how much time was spent speaking against the recent decision of the United Nations (and the U.S.) to pressure Ghana to be more accepting of homosexuals. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I’ve experienced an occasional long sunday church service before, but didn’t account for the time it would take for everything to be translated from English to Ewe. A translator had a microphone during the entire service which means everything was said twice. I enjoyed the service, but around 12pm we realized that we hadn’t asked anyone to save lunch for us so we decided to leave early and head home. I told Rebecca that I would be sure to come back with her another Sunday.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">--</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Ghana is currently playing in the African Cup of Nations which is a huge deal here because the Ghana Black Stars are so highly ranked worldwide. Sunday evening we headed back to Obama’s to watch the quarterfinal match against Tunisia. We piled into a large outdoor tiki hut and gathered around a 20inch TV with 40 or so other people. The crowd was hilarious and was very happy to see that we were cheering for Ghana. A few red cards and an overtime later, Ghana won 2-1. We immediately poured into the streets with the rest of Hohoe. It was 10pm on a Sunday night and pitch black outside, but the whole town seemed to be out celebrating. Kids ran through the streets singing while their parents gathered together to bang pots and pans. All of the cars and motocycles on the road speed past beeping their horns and flashing their lights. As we headed towards home we discovered that a big crowd had gathered in the town square to dance around the statue and sing Ghana’s praise. I’m sure this celebration was more exciting than any Superbowl party that happened on Sunday. Ghana lost the next game in the series, but I'm still amazed at the level of spirit people here have for the Black Stars. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span>--</div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">My free time this week was spent visiting new friends and learning more about the everyday happenings here in Hohoe. My usual stops are at a shop in town to say hello to ‘grandmama’ and her grandkids, my favorite seamstress Divine and of course the guys at Crafty Art. All of these people have been so welcoming and have really made me feel more connected to Ghana. I’m looking forward to spending more time with all of them and now know to say mia dogo upon my departure to let them know that we will meet again. I'm sure that it is the relationships I'm building with the people around town, our staff members and the other volunteers that will make this trip such a great experience. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKU4T8NpDzIheRUYqlUwtHeIiIFlzirQ5kDmO7q5VE6dCKhwrlz-ucvSkNNoyTEJZueZFko8itz1IwbmQi_9vs-ywr7NR3w_tg0EJvBZLmqHzteRxBSuXlrqr7Dv2SXMhR_LN41EsiKd1K/s1600/Iman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKU4T8NpDzIheRUYqlUwtHeIiIFlzirQ5kDmO7q5VE6dCKhwrlz-ucvSkNNoyTEJZueZFko8itz1IwbmQi_9vs-ywr7NR3w_tg0EJvBZLmqHzteRxBSuXlrqr7Dv2SXMhR_LN41EsiKd1K/s200/Iman.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our security guys, Immanuel <br />
and one of the neighbor girls</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"></span><br />
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qSahVhe4VYalb8WaMxn9R8enKATKbb0OSTG9fuMSRtZJY0V23m1Iic2x5M1tNLM547r1g0xm8YOZT-x8W_TCG_uNTMISmxD3Ys7SiTMYi9DS8HxBHYcGPXJ32_150_WvlcRc-6Db4Dzl/s1600/Grandmama'sShop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_qSahVhe4VYalb8WaMxn9R8enKATKbb0OSTG9fuMSRtZJY0V23m1Iic2x5M1tNLM547r1g0xm8YOZT-x8W_TCG_uNTMISmxD3Ys7SiTMYi9DS8HxBHYcGPXJ32_150_WvlcRc-6Db4Dzl/s200/Grandmama'sShop.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandmama's Shop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6NA56_K9Jnx4IfWfPrX9Yac7WynzatBqrKdT0mTLq5RcYFndVE6ZaYoo0tUXLMvBWBrLH4RV5G-gZKUo8gVSObW5l46FGg6bbl-6B0WvLSdHUSvBSS1LZBCrJZzgXGit257q9EKyi8ln/s1600/Kente.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS6NA56_K9Jnx4IfWfPrX9Yac7WynzatBqrKdT0mTLq5RcYFndVE6ZaYoo0tUXLMvBWBrLH4RV5G-gZKUo8gVSObW5l46FGg6bbl-6B0WvLSdHUSvBSS1LZBCrJZzgXGit257q9EKyi8ln/s200/Kente.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning how to weave Kente</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p2">
<br />
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Random things I’ve noticed/learned:</span></div>
<ul>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">If you want to get the cheapest price for a cab, you must be willing to stop and pickup others who are headed in the same direction. I got a ride for less than half of the usual price after riding with 3 other adults and a baby in the backseat of a regular sized taxi. </span></li>
<li class="li1">Most barbers here use regular clippers to cut hair. The only real difference in hair cutting techniques is the use of an open flat razor blade to lineup the edges. The kids at Happy Kids cut each other's hair using only an open flat razor blade and a comb. </li>
<li class="li1">Public Displays of Affection don’t happen here in Hohoe, among any age group. They’re highly frowned upon and the occasional couple holding hands or walking arm in arm definitely stands out. It is common, however, for friends of the same sex to hold hands as a sign of their friendship. </li>
<li class="li1">The town of Hohoe starts to run low on water as the dry season comes to a close. This shortage caused us to lose running water at the Home Base for a few days. We still had access to water, just not through the pipes so I'm slowly getting used to bucket showers.</li>
<li class="li1">Wednesday morning is worship time at Happy Kids. A teacher leads the students in a bible study kind of service consisting of a song, scripture and prayer. I was surprised to see that an offering was collected and the kids were asked to give any extra change they brought to school that day. One of the teachers told the students that their “coins could go towards ice cream or the Lord.” That's a rough choice for 2nd through 6th graders to make, but I noticed that most kids who had change quickly gave it up. </li>
<li class="li1">Never Eat Salty Watermelon is the most commonly used mnemonic device to remember the proper North-East-South-West order. </li>
<li class="li1">Friday is gameday at Happy Kids and most other schools around Hohoe. Classes end at the 10:15 break when kids run to the park to play soccer. While the boys play soccer, the girls jump rope and play handgames. These girls are the highest and quickest at jump rope that I've ever seen.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNx4c7OOHRph5I640VZ3ek3Sw9V0VPsx4UQ1-9wfSZFxXSkObUufwpRK4bl9SNsRsdz3cnj9e7-nMEYooWrM73oSCClMrIg1rAS7fGMBV0f5GpDgT3DVeHS8rIqKUL-9OvblP1w_ymki63/s1600/CharlotteJumping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNx4c7OOHRph5I640VZ3ek3Sw9V0VPsx4UQ1-9wfSZFxXSkObUufwpRK4bl9SNsRsdz3cnj9e7-nMEYooWrM73oSCClMrIg1rAS7fGMBV0f5GpDgT3DVeHS8rIqKUL-9OvblP1w_ymki63/s200/CharlotteJumping.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlotte jumps so high!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFHy1smuaEbdt25ebaMVs7fHSFs3clGvaXII7lmM7nuMre7-L_PC1cz-uZUcyfsx0IEaxIK9-a3YNO7X_bh3Im_V8M2WY33FTYKG_RwTpoJGzOAkzWtF4sJGSPmhsi8X7UWeykYloa_lJ/s1600/Gameday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFHy1smuaEbdt25ebaMVs7fHSFs3clGvaXII7lmM7nuMre7-L_PC1cz-uZUcyfsx0IEaxIK9-a3YNO7X_bh3Im_V8M2WY33FTYKG_RwTpoJGzOAkzWtF4sJGSPmhsi8X7UWeykYloa_lJ/s200/Gameday.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the boys getting ready for <br />
the weekly Friday match</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-535678176258517152012-02-06T15:07:00.000-08:002012-02-07T00:05:36.642-08:00"Education is the premise of progress, in every society, in every family." Kofi AnnanKofi Annan is a well known Ghanaian diplomat who was the seventh Secretary General of the United Nations and won a Nobel Peace Prize for founding the Global AIDS and Health Fund. He spent most of his time with the UN and WHO backing HIV/AIDS education programs, but was a big proponent of education reform across Ghana. I thought the quote was fitting due to the amount of time I've spent thinking about education in Ghana over the past week.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These same 4 kids run out of the nursery <br />
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<span class="s1">As you all know, I’ve been spending all of my mornings at the Happy Kids Prep School. The kids are still happy and I've enjoyed really getting to form relationships with the kids there. While I came to Ghana planning on just helping out around the school, due to a severe lack of teachers I have become the classroom instructor for what I thought were students in the 4th and 5th grade. This past week, I realized that my original P4 class was really grades 3 and 4 combined and the group of 5th graders I took in when another volunteer left was actually grades 5 and 6. This means that I’ve been the teacher for the 17 students in grades 3 through 6 at Happy Kids. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">Last week brought about big changes at the school as they were finally able to bring in a new permanent teacher. Wednesday morning I arrived at the school and was immediately introduced to Felix and told that he was the new teacher for the P3 and P4 class. Definitely a bittersweet moment. I was excited to hear that they were finally able to hire someone, but realized that this meant the end of my time with the group of happy kids that I started with 3 weeks ago. The kids definitely need a real teacher who will be around longterm, so I made the move to the empty classroom right next door with the 6 kids in grades 5 and 6. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">During the school wide break at 10am, Madame Elizabeth (the headmistress of the school) thanked me for taking on the big group of older kids and asked if I could help Felix get to know everyone at the school. I of course told her that I would help him out. She also let me know that they have been trying to find another teacher for the P5/P6 class and that I could pick which class to work with once they hired someone full time. Until then I’ll be with P5/P6. It’s a really small group, so I’m excited to do more involved and grade appropriate activities with them. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMsN_aGXMQz9TKB2ZftMdd9mBgX1_RZIpDn3nEhcV9UnR6G5isXuF-ja3TyK19OxuKrYKyuHIIPtEHiZRvxFJHDfGPWFX6n21GF_6OJ6GFz6hbs-qRLKSCm7sbjFnZNgLceWoj42l4_nsf/s1600/Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMsN_aGXMQz9TKB2ZftMdd9mBgX1_RZIpDn3nEhcV9UnR6G5isXuF-ja3TyK19OxuKrYKyuHIIPtEHiZRvxFJHDfGPWFX6n21GF_6OJ6GFz6hbs-qRLKSCm7sbjFnZNgLceWoj42l4_nsf/s200/Group.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the P3-P6 group</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZC2HFl5xUQO5eOagLd_4s3gb9JsR6IookJ-W-YExz4knI1Bn8qPcf5Iq2GdKVJOYtA5qkG4oP701x8S3iect1d0tKJfo-XSOYRFSttPP_i_L382ND17McvN78Ymr8qeJqTRDkznfoV8k/s1600/P6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZC2HFl5xUQO5eOagLd_4s3gb9JsR6IookJ-W-YExz4knI1Bn8qPcf5Iq2GdKVJOYtA5qkG4oP701x8S3iect1d0tKJfo-XSOYRFSttPP_i_L382ND17McvN78Ymr8qeJqTRDkznfoV8k/s200/P6.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 5 regulars in the P5/ P6 class</td></tr>
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The lack of structure at Happy Kids has been the source of many questions for me, so I was glad to have the time this week to learn more about how schools work here in Ghana. Our past two guest speakers have been about the education system and child labor here in Ghana. I quickly realized that the child labor problem is really an education problem.<br />
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<span class="s1">Here’s a quick overview on the Ghanaian school system:</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Public Education is ‘free and compulsory’ for all children through Junior High School. (free, except for a family must provide the necessary uniform) A child must pass the required entrance exams and be able to pay tuition in order to continue on to Senior High School. I got the chance to observe classes at two different public schools on Thursday and was pleasantly surprised at how much more structured and organized they were from Happy Kids. Both schools had full time teachers that were following the outlined curriculum given to them by the Minister of Education. One of the schools even brought in students at the nearby teacher’s college to act as student teachers in the classrooms. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">Although public schools are free, many families decide to send their kids or private or prep schools. Private schools, mostly private boarding schools, are super common around Hohoe and provide parents with the option of their child living at school. Most of these boarding schools, like Happy Kids, charge families a small fee to provide all housing, food, access to water, housing and an education for their children. The fee is much less than it would cost to have the child live in home throughout the week. The kids live at the school during the week and those who are able travel home during the weekends. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">The issue with these private schools are that they are much less regulated than public schools across the country. This lack of regulation and stable funding sources causes them to not really follow any curriculum and bring in teachers without full training. For example, Happy Kids is a private boarding school in the small village of Gbi_Wegbe, right outside of Hohoe. The school opened in 1995 with the mission providing a quality education and housing for children of needy families. At the time, most of these children were orphans. Due to both lack of funding and the poor regulation of private schools, Happy Kids currently is severely understaffed. I mean I’ve been acting as the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th grade teacher for the past 3 weeks. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">This span of 4 grades at Happy Kids still only left me with less than 20 students because most students don’t make it to the higher grades, especially in a small village like Gbi_Wegbe, for a variety of reasons. Both our speaker on education and child labor stressed that it is common for families to pull their child (especially girl children) out of school at a young age to focus on learning the family trade. If children do make it through Junior High School, many choose to begin working to help the family instead of paying the high costs of continuing through Senior High School. While this obviously was disheartening to hear, I instantly thought of the career paths of some of my happy kids. Two of the girls in my class want to be seamstresses when they grow up. Many of the boys want to be farmers like their dads. Keeping this is mind, I know that after completion of 8th grade their parents will be left with two choices. They’ll have to either find a way to pay the high price of upper education in a less than favorable school system or remove them from school and lead them down the familiar path of the family trade or local business that will help bring in money for the household. </span>In a huge understatement... I strongly believe in the value of education and think that a quality education should be easily assessable for all children. While I’ve dedicated much time to spreading my belief in education to those around me, I can’t help but wonder if the financial strain of high school in the Hohoe area would be worth it to prepare a child to be a Ghanaian seamstress or cocoa farmer.<br />
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<span class="s1">To take it back to my Happy Kids... I’ve become more purposeful with my daily english and math lessons. I’m hoping that the structure of my activities like the ‘day at the market’ word problems or grammar games will help develop skills they will find necessary as they move on. I will continue to try spark their creative thinking, reward their inquisitive nature to ask about the many things in the world they have never been exposed to and encourage them to always hold onto their desire to learn. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLENkCD2579HdyeVUcMtZBeWBte-wFSgQekrmsTef7w4TxB1i8YT_XBysyJyEsvk8D0KP4wmjDsRLrjjuH1ImFOSUASy4xJENFX4mBiy559sqqTfLBHMk06RSslH1-EFRiNIcqdsucI21/s1600/Break.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLENkCD2579HdyeVUcMtZBeWBte-wFSgQekrmsTef7w4TxB1i8YT_XBysyJyEsvk8D0KP4wmjDsRLrjjuH1ImFOSUASy4xJENFX4mBiy559sqqTfLBHMk06RSslH1-EFRiNIcqdsucI21/s200/Break.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The P3/P4 girls playing during break</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Thinking longterm, I briefly talked to Felix (the new teacher at Happy Kids) about working to establish a set curriculum or some sort of standard guidelines for the school. Felix grew up in the Hohoe area and recently graduated from a nearby teacher’s college and was excited that I also saw the need to bring some more structure to the classroom. The hardest part will be adapting a traditional public school curriculum to fit a school that is used to grouping grades together. At Happy Kids, the P3 and P4 students share the same classroom and same teacher, same goes for P5 and P6. </span><span class="s1">Also, I’m hoping to have a girls only class sometime this week. Madame Elizabeth gave me a book of materials for women’s empowerment and girls health activities that she would like me to do with the girls. I’ll have to talk to Felix to see if he would be willing to take my boys in exchange for his girls one morning, but he should be ok with that. Madame is all about it so I’m hoping myself and future CCS volunteers can make this ‘Girls Circle’ type thing a regular occurrence at Happy Kids. </span>I'll be sure to keep everyone updated on my time with the kids!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSaU5HX2uJe7Ih9PgwIn6QlrJPMDrmsQbFINKrtxW7qe0JtsdKNaeTCHiDngbjSeGUoyATyYRxe4GJDMVd6iw280VajrDOWJfs3z_2r5POTriI_AZ67RD8FYHAL2ASHTQHAI02Wu3eFWqb/s1600/WisdomWise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSaU5HX2uJe7Ih9PgwIn6QlrJPMDrmsQbFINKrtxW7qe0JtsdKNaeTCHiDngbjSeGUoyATyYRxe4GJDMVd6iw280VajrDOWJfs3z_2r5POTriI_AZ67RD8FYHAL2ASHTQHAI02Wu3eFWqb/s200/WisdomWise.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. Wisdom Wise from P5</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6KPQj8MMenaH41ARbS5LoVFduBGS8zIxawk9zZQJfM-hAgTL1Kv-yT6cYaI7OnMMrMkBgk-PaTQb5UncMEgzulqE-327W6A7jSuoryXpBhqcltba6m_iK2G96f_Dt7M0B1E0guyxfyoz/s1600/Moda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6KPQj8MMenaH41ARbS5LoVFduBGS8zIxawk9zZQJfM-hAgTL1Kv-yT6cYaI7OnMMrMkBgk-PaTQb5UncMEgzulqE-327W6A7jSuoryXpBhqcltba6m_iK2G96f_Dt7M0B1E0guyxfyoz/s200/Moda.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moda and me in the main office</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kamilah</td></tr>
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In one of my first posts I had a picture of a not so shy girl named Ruth. Turns out she's quite the ham and her real name is Kamilah. She frequently makes her way into our yard and charms her way past the security guy on duty to find someone to play with. The weekend I learned that she loves to take funny pictures of herself and has completely figured out how to use photobooth on my laptop. She now has her own album of pictures on my computer, so I figured I'd share one.</div>
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<span class="s1">Things I’m still not used to:</span></div>
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<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Cold Showers - It’s hot and I spend a good portion of my days walking around in the sun, but I’m still not used to the whole cold shower thing. It just seems wrong. Even if I come home super sweaty after walking around town all day, I just want a nice steamy shower.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Lizards - My classroom at Happy Kids has two large windows (really just two open holes in the wall) with no screen or cover to them. These windows are nice for letting in an occasional breeze, but also allow the biggest lizards I’ve ever seen to freely roam around the room. Even if the class is super focused on our word problems or geography lesson, a huge green lizard with an orange head crawling up the wall is enough to completely throw me off.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">The Yobo (or Yovo) call: Kids in Hohoe are used to seeing CCS volunteers, but still instantly shout Yobo or Yovo (which means white american or white man) whenever they see anyone in the group walking around. Recently we've learned of a special song that they sing to say "hello white person". They still call me the black american, but I get the song sometimes too. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Vultures - They’re gross and everywhere.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">The combination of consonants in the Ewe Language - I just can’t pronounce words like dzigbzoudi or gbi correctly. The kids tell me that my tongue just gets in the way and I have to learn how to keep it under control. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Sleeping with a mosquito net - I never really thought I was claustrophobic, but sleeping with a mosquito net in the bottom bunk is just weird. I feel like I’m trapped in a cage and it doesn’t help with the heat either. </span></li>
</ul>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-43165429607789437582012-02-03T05:19:00.000-08:002012-02-03T05:21:32.965-08:00Day trip to AccraTime is still flying by for me here in Ghana. I'm still spending my mornings with the Happy Kids and venturing around Hohoe in the afternoons.This week, most of my nights have been spent playing cards, reading and preparing lessons for my Happy Kids. I finally finished the <i>Autobiography of Malcolm X </i>and have just begun reading <i>Team of Rivals</i>, a book about the pure genius of good old Abe Lincoln that came highly recommended.<br />
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<span class="s1">Before I get too far into the week, I want to catch everyone up on my weekend. On Saturday another volunteer and myself decided to take the trip to Accra to spend some time in the city. One of the other volunteers was heading to the airport to fly home, so we figured we would bum a ride to the city. We didn’t really have an agenda or anything in particular that we wanted to see, but knew it wouldn’t be too hard to find something to do. Accra is the capital city of Ghana and has a huge mall, lots of outdoor markets and ‘cultural centers’ to check out.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">Our taxi was scheduled to arrive between 8 and 8:30 that morning, so when a different taxi driver finally showed up to the house around 9:15, we were ready to go. We loaded up the car for our ride and were off. Thankfully one of the staff members was heading to Accra as well for the weekend so could help us navigate what would be an interesting journey. I somehow managed to fall asleep despite the huge potholes so the ride was pretty uneventful... until we got stopped by immigration. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">We’ve seen these check points in our travels around Hohoe, but with our usual driver and our usual van never had to stop. This time, with our backup driver and new van we we had to get out of the van so the officers could check the car. I woke up to an Ghanaian officer decked in his blue camouflage telling us to get out of the van. I still wasn’t fully awake and figured maybe someone in the car just wanted to take a bathroom break or something. Once out of the car is when things got interesting.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">We followed Rebecca (the staff member who was with us) to a small stand on the side of the road where a man was collecting money from people who needed to use the bathroom. We were a little confused, but quickly payed him the 10 pesways (less than 5 cents) and headed towards the little tiled shelter marked women. The best way I can describe this “bathroom” is a room with a big wall in the middle and a gutter surrounding the perimeter. After a great explanation from Rebecca, we realized that we were somehow supposed to keep our balance, aim, and use the gutter. I’m pretty sure the man who took our money was laughing at us trying to figure this out because the bathroom walls only went up to our necks. Luckily, we were prepared enough to have a roll of toilet paper. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">We survived the bathroom and started making our way back to the van, when one of the officers waved us over to his table. He immediately asked us for our passports, which we told him they were in the van. This apparently angered him as he started questioning Rebecca in Ewe. I still don’t know what exactly was said, but could understand her tell him we were volunteers with CCS who had been in Ghana for weeks and that she was from Ghana. This was apparently enough and we were waved on through immigration. Although this really was an immigration stop, I’m still confused as to where we were immigrating to because we were still in Ghana and about 2 hours outside of Accra. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">The rest of our ride was uneventful and we made it to our drop off location, the Accra Mall where we said goodbye to our driver and Rebecca. Accra is a pretty modern city so I was happy to hit up Shoprite for some essentials and eat a burger for lunch. Also on the list of things to do was to get new battery for my camera, because mine mysteriously decided to stop charging. The volunteer who was heading to the airport met up with an old friend at the mall who so graciously offered to show us around the city. We hopped in his car and began the tour. He drove us past all of the hot spots... the President’s House, the Art Center, a huge outdoor market and the financial district. He was a great tour guide and even helped me bargain my way into a new camera charger in the market. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">We knew that we would eventually have to part ways from our tour guide so he could make his way to the airport, so he dropped Nicole and I off at a huge ‘cultural market’. This market was filled with different vendors selling their artwork. It was a little overwhelming, but I was impressed. There were masks and figurines carved by hand, beautiful paintings, little thumb guitars, leather goods and jewelry for days. Altogether there had to be at least 200 different shops with items for sale. We somehow made our way all the way to the back of the market to a small store that was filled with wood carvings, all done by hand. After fighting the urge to buy a huge drum, I mentioned to one of the guys working in the store that I just learned how to play mancala and wanted to buy a game to take home. He instantly led me to their huge stack of hand crafted mancala sets and opened up the one on top. I wanted to buy one and told him that I had just learned how to play so he figured we could play a few games. Why not? An hour later, Ishmael and I were still playing mancala. His friend Rauf had become my personal coach and promised me that in the end I would be victorious. As we played we talked about life here in Ghana, schools in America, Rastafarians and tattoos. I’m not really sure who ended up winning, but it was great.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qarqiWUPWatfVoVQuFpJRW-FLgz0OrKEcnV_r92LBNWyGy9gCh46zrnZr9wmT2LJScEKgeOAOQJI_SwtyAvcwZIQWtoWXFMshaoQu_3bWqf-7hem01nfXanqE3DWmxZ272ECdPDOndz3/s1600/TroTro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9qarqiWUPWatfVoVQuFpJRW-FLgz0OrKEcnV_r92LBNWyGy9gCh46zrnZr9wmT2LJScEKgeOAOQJI_SwtyAvcwZIQWtoWXFMshaoQu_3bWqf-7hem01nfXanqE3DWmxZ272ECdPDOndz3/s200/TroTro.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6gVvK_qrQvNE1W94usYyWs1QICrV-P6C_iiZ-I4nDvLIUvDsUGo7RVDF-zR0H0Fywwdkh_fLWQi2EQpRx0wkmP4cQCpugEVtt5eEEWTtTEmiOmXITRWKh2mFHUZgxhmAiQYb3T-tTAFH/s1600/TroTroStation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6gVvK_qrQvNE1W94usYyWs1QICrV-P6C_iiZ-I4nDvLIUvDsUGo7RVDF-zR0H0Fywwdkh_fLWQi2EQpRx0wkmP4cQCpugEVtt5eEEWTtTEmiOmXITRWKh2mFHUZgxhmAiQYb3T-tTAFH/s200/TroTroStation.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="s1">Around 5pm, Nicole and I realized that we still needed to find our way to the TroTro station to catch a ride back to Hohoe. (TroTros are the most widely used form of public transportation in Ghana.. check out the pic for a visual) We were a little unsure about how to get there, so one of the guys from the shop volunteered to show us the way. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without him. Kofi not only walked us the 7 or so blocks to the ‘TroTro’ station, but navigated his way through the crowds of people and buses to find a TroTro that was headed back to Hohoe and made sure that we were charged a fair price. I wasn’t able to take a picture (because my battery was still dead), but to the left is a picture I found that looks exactly like the TroTro station we were in. Pure chaos. There’s no way we would have made it without Kofi.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">We sat on the TroTro for about an hour waiting for it to fill up and then we were off. By fill up, I mean fill every space available. There was a sign on the side of the TroTro that said “12 person maximum”, but we made it back to Hohoe with 15. The man sitting next to me had a suitcase on his lap the whole time and the boy sitting in the middle seat between the driver and passenger in the front rode with his bookbag on his back the whole time. It wasn’t the most comfortable car ride of my life, but I shouldn’t complain. I’ve seen TroTro’s packed with more people and babies sitting on laps and kids hanging out of the windows. Although we stopped 4 different times so people could hop out and use the bathroom, we had no crying babies and there was only a kid on someone’s lap for about 30mins of the trip. Plus, we had air conditioning. A little over 5 hours after departure, we were back in Hohoe and happy about the 20 minute walk home to stretch our legs. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">Sunday morning we all decided to sleep in and have a lazy day around the Home-Base. My entire day consisted of napping, reading, playing volleyball and finally doing laundry. After spending an hour scrubbing and rinsing my clothes by hand in the heat of the day, I will now be waking up early on laundry days. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">The rest of my week has been filled with my normal Happy Kids routine and a few extra activities that all seem to relate back to the education system here in Ghana. I’ve been really interested in figuring out how these schools work and will have a lot to report on that topic. Also, there have been some big changes at Happy Kids so I promise to make myself buckle down and write about it soon.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">Much Love!</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-7516579411495569312012-01-27T10:53:00.000-08:002012-01-27T10:54:41.182-08:00Mt. Afadjato and Mona Monkeys<br />
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<span class="s1">It’s hard to believe that I’ve almost been in Hohoe for two weeks. Time is flying by. I’m still maintaining my morning routine at Happy Kids, and having lots of fun with them. This week we spent most of our time on math, specifically multiplication, long division and simple word problems. My class loves division, but has taken some time to get the hang of writing problems out the long way. They love the challenge and ask me to leave them problems to work on before I leave everyday. Next week we will spend more time on English and the class will start writing their autobiographies.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYghbwfc4u70SmjzxvLpnTpDgNc4ORrqq5Z5buXT_NcBys9rLPYr-XsNMBVpnaOJ-JmF5b1xXk2P63LzZF7CmKJ8Qd9aruGFXJLVi694aD1SshRux3NULF5Kii1E5vlqAsR4eNIvUYzCS1/s1600/Viewofthemountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYghbwfc4u70SmjzxvLpnTpDgNc4ORrqq5Z5buXT_NcBys9rLPYr-XsNMBVpnaOJ-JmF5b1xXk2P63LzZF7CmKJ8Qd9aruGFXJLVi694aD1SshRux3NULF5Kii1E5vlqAsR4eNIvUYzCS1/s200/Viewofthemountain.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Afadjato</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHj9mCOofRKsb8bfbhVFXiEHD1lOPbOp4KAf8q-C79E072OTHrhk7bpHpNF-EX94U8xks_7E6nkdS21Io0FNfIg8URlOjWZYo9olfwNciu6RhkziTgjSAvN7LsfhsjlbpoC-IHTtficOY/s1600/AfadjatoSign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHj9mCOofRKsb8bfbhVFXiEHD1lOPbOp4KAf8q-C79E072OTHrhk7bpHpNF-EX94U8xks_7E6nkdS21Io0FNfIg8URlOjWZYo9olfwNciu6RhkziTgjSAvN7LsfhsjlbpoC-IHTtficOY/s200/AfadjatoSign.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="s1">Tuesday afternoon the group hiked to the top of the highest mountain in Ghana, Mt. Afadjato. Mountain climbing isn’t exactly my thing, but I was excited to make it to the top with the group. As our van approached the mountain we got a beautiful view of the challenge ahead. As we headed to the trail we passed a sign that finally answered the question of just how high up we were going. 885 meters (about 2900 feet) above sea level. Our energy level was high and it seemed as if we all wanted to run right to the top. Now seems like a good time to remind everyone that climbing a mountain or hiking of any kind really just isn’t my thing. As we started the climb, we realized that our path was a steep one filled with rocks and lots of leaves. I couldn’t help but think that this would be one of the few times in my life that a walking stick would actually be useful. While I made it to the top, the trek was certainly no easy one for me. I’m not sure if I would have even wanted to go the whole way if it wasn’t for one of our staff members, Ruth. Although I’m certain Ruth could’ve jogged the whole way up, she hung with me in the back and took on my ‘slowly but surely’ motto. She helped me over the loose rocks, pointed out the sturdy branches to grab onto during the especially steep parts and played the perfect mix of Rihanna and Akon on her phone. I should mention that Ruth was wearing a long skirt and flip flops and barely broke a sweat. The view at the top was beautiful and filled with lots of mountain ranges overlooking Togo, Ghana’s neighbor to the east. With the whole group at the top we took some pictures, relaxed our legs a little bit and then made the trek back down. While not at all as strenuous, going down the mountain was much scarier than going up. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXgAD8WS2rpWxPuVK1_vitGsgjG3hUKa4h6X7iro65bbcYHWqpyGHnegifGFOOzJeWtwIImJogC0ALkM8OzRtpvchtDXw5S7BgR4ECEERA33RCwG5cqr3IoIW9k7btbpyRis-k-GqXAL-/s1600/GroupTop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXgAD8WS2rpWxPuVK1_vitGsgjG3hUKa4h6X7iro65bbcYHWqpyGHnegifGFOOzJeWtwIImJogC0ALkM8OzRtpvchtDXw5S7BgR4ECEERA33RCwG5cqr3IoIW9k7btbpyRis-k-GqXAL-/s320/GroupTop.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group at the top</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGyh6ID3pOTJBNUlXvQGrtyiCCX5kpTJAbP8NnyYw47RPnBBNFCtgaa_nVmWHwDio_9Kzne5U7ALxlguKoFfTDDlp4PVblOZWdHaj3YfRcd7mdiJXiMS_EYLvWaOLeGEJ661PQ-2xwnlSY/s1600/Ruthatthetop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGyh6ID3pOTJBNUlXvQGrtyiCCX5kpTJAbP8NnyYw47RPnBBNFCtgaa_nVmWHwDio_9Kzne5U7ALxlguKoFfTDDlp4PVblOZWdHaj3YfRcd7mdiJXiMS_EYLvWaOLeGEJ661PQ-2xwnlSY/s320/Ruthatthetop.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruth and me at the top</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Thursday afternoon the group loaded up the van once more to head to the nearby Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary. I wasn’t really sure what to expect from a monkey sanctuary, but was told that we could feed the monkeys which sounded like fun to me. We got there (after stopping to buy some bananas), met our guide and headed into the woods. It was at this point that we learned that the ‘sanctuary’ these monkeys live in is really just a part of the woods that the village has agreed to leave untouched. The monkeys are able to play and roam around naturally, although they often venture into the village to look for berries or other treats. It took a little bit of time to find their exact location in the woods, but we eventually found a large group of them hanging out by an old cemetery. Our guide taught us how to properly feed the monkeys, holding the banana a certain way if you wanted them to jump on you. It was here in this cemetery where I had a pretty intense stare-down with a few monkeys, got chased by a mother monkey carrying a baby around her neck, and allowed a monkey to eat a banana out of my hand while resting on my arm. I realized that my camera was dead as soon as we got there, but will be sure to share some of the pictures the other volunteers took once I get them.</span></div>
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This week we also had another Ewe lesson, learned how to make the traditional Ghanaian Batik design on fabric and spent an evening at Obama Gardens cheering for Ghana in the African Cup of Nations. Ghana won 1- 0 against Botswana, so it was an exciting night.<br />
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<span class="s1">Random things I’ve noticed/learned:</span></div>
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<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Roosters crow all day long, not just at sunrise.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">It’s always good to carry toilet paper or tissues in your bag. Sometimes behind a tree is the best restroom option.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Country music is quite popular here in Hohoe. The staff members love it and I frequently hear Taylor Swiftish music blasting from passing cars/taxis. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Most people have two names - a traditional Ghanaian name and more European-inspired name. Some of the names of the kids in my class are Kodjo Roland, Yayirah Bless, Amewoga Emmanuel, and Asem Holly. They all call each other by their Ghanaian name, but introduced themselves to me with the other one. They are all slowly revealing their full names to me. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">The food has been delicious, but food in Ghana is 85% carbohydrates. Look for a full food update soon.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">We were able to see the moon for the first time last night!</span></li>
</ul>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-59675076351753880612012-01-24T14:34:00.000-08:002012-01-25T06:55:10.226-08:00Cape Coast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="s1">It's been far too long since an update and there's a lot going on. I'll eventually get everyone caught up, but let's take it back to Friday. </span>This weekend the group made the 10 hour drive from Hohoe to Cape Coast to spend some time at the beach, do a little sightseeing and most importantly experience first hand a piece of Ghanaian history. </div>
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<span class="s1">Cape Coast, formerly known as the Gold Coast, was established as a trading city by the Portuguese in the 15th century. The discovery of gold along the coast has caused the city to pass from the control of the Portuguese to the Dutch, the Swedish and finally the British. The city was built around the Cape Coast Castle which became the hub<b> </b>of British colonial rule and one of the biggest trading posts for the trade of human slaves. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">As an African and African-American Studies minor, I’ve spent time studying the Trans-Atlantic Slave trade and have even researched the Middle Passage. Throughout these studies, I’ve been exposed to information about both the Cape Coast Castle and the nearby St. George’s Elmina Castle. I’ve seen pictures, read descriptions of the abhorrent conditions people were subjected to and watched various films that attempt to recreate the ugliness of it all. I’m sure everyone has heard about the horrible things that were done to millions of Africans before they were shipped as cargo to the Americas. Hearing the retelling of these stories doesn’t even come close to spending time walking around these castles, standing in the dungeons and walking through the Door of No Return.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">We went on a guided tour of the Cape Coast Castle and then drove to Elmina where a few of us decided to walk around St. George’s Castle on our own. Wandering around Elmina without a guide, gave the castle a completely different feel. Myself and another volunteer found ourselves walking through dark hallways and finding passages from the female cells to the outdoor courtyard. Quietly wandering around and realizing what each room was used for was super eerie and definitely an emotional experience. What really struck me was seeing just how close the Portuguese and British churches were to the dungeons of their captives. At Elmina, the church is right next to the male holding cells, at the Cape Castle, it is literally right above the small, dark room they forced 100 of the strongest males to stay in. In both locations, they could hear the screams coming from the dungeons while in church. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9R3zQgSBr4D2zw37-zlbyHEfLiCSDJIf00P6Rb368M8SOs_6ZpwB7997Z11tefVjBs3OYGH31GsWoscglQs7bGoOj03AYYToG8oDB26Qd7C3FdJw1jJ_ktsxnn2qi5Ssoywek9aejZJ1s/s1600/Cannonsontheshore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9R3zQgSBr4D2zw37-zlbyHEfLiCSDJIf00P6Rb368M8SOs_6ZpwB7997Z11tefVjBs3OYGH31GsWoscglQs7bGoOj03AYYToG8oDB26Qd7C3FdJw1jJ_ktsxnn2qi5Ssoywek9aejZJ1s/s320/Cannonsontheshore.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cannons at Cape Coast</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLG_Jb8tYgwUAfId3cPIB6frS2yaTiudf5vu5kp1kcQWBD34w3B7bGV7j3pKGULkHjeyR4lUaZ4R-tZ9_IU4KOIIWcOmT343mqspFDS7YJGHu3t8H08NR2MUxebJUeml4D3bUu2KniCkF/s1600/CapeCastleMap.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLG_Jb8tYgwUAfId3cPIB6frS2yaTiudf5vu5kp1kcQWBD34w3B7bGV7j3pKGULkHjeyR4lUaZ4R-tZ9_IU4KOIIWcOmT343mqspFDS7YJGHu3t8H08NR2MUxebJUeml4D3bUu2KniCkF/s320/CapeCastleMap.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map of Cape Coast Castle</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBB24Wz4vB6EQ65sPVFEOX981JB4joem55guMJY6n83XPUwSeI7LLCpArbf7lqwMFkJC34-fGsNXv-eFl7tK-jGId5-BVbBnb-C3ikI7qzhoPWepQSf2OBvfsOIcEn4mGGrgdcaOpISM7/s1600/CapeDungeon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBB24Wz4vB6EQ65sPVFEOX981JB4joem55guMJY6n83XPUwSeI7LLCpArbf7lqwMFkJC34-fGsNXv-eFl7tK-jGId5-BVbBnb-C3ikI7qzhoPWepQSf2OBvfsOIcEn4mGGrgdcaOpISM7/s320/CapeDungeon.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hallway to the Male Dungeons - Cape Coast</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58_ktVuGFQSOiBN1vXt_fQH6raJjq3EerlG6L-9XKdS-Othwxmq4UQD84ExwMmYkVbxPKx4SOA7QppWcI8zonNytod0wG7RssIOSDVLMSuo9XvH2nyXTM2HE5mB87iHtuhI8Y_Tpa9m1D/s1600/DoorNoReturn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58_ktVuGFQSOiBN1vXt_fQH6raJjq3EerlG6L-9XKdS-Othwxmq4UQD84ExwMmYkVbxPKx4SOA7QppWcI8zonNytod0wG7RssIOSDVLMSuo9XvH2nyXTM2HE5mB87iHtuhI8Y_Tpa9m1D/s320/DoorNoReturn.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Door of No Return - Cape Coast</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDrLwVq0B2WYcWFJlmvAXeCWLylYgDbzDXFUrbdP3punXwTQaTtyMV2Wywkas4_CzbAlpUnesIhaRoNB_FsFDiJU6tBQhIHuZ0gHu6TN2eOvgqUF-8KNONFJILGIqKVeYkrVh9qp26Qlt/s1600/GroupandCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDrLwVq0B2WYcWFJlmvAXeCWLylYgDbzDXFUrbdP3punXwTQaTtyMV2Wywkas4_CzbAlpUnesIhaRoNB_FsFDiJU6tBQhIHuZ0gHu6TN2eOvgqUF-8KNONFJILGIqKVeYkrVh9qp26Qlt/s320/GroupandCastle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The group in front of Cape Coast Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_16QB44WIoYxQdxISlJDXFQjteTHD-zgMXwtVWjwlOu9usvvvNm-ZuHW8IS1xUowj_4jgA8bUjVssdm2Pr9045G-OBflc03gOcoWke2u0QbZpMvEUu0_qsD-SxdGF0OQMzzsFn4mrv3_/s1600/ElminaEntrance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_16QB44WIoYxQdxISlJDXFQjteTHD-zgMXwtVWjwlOu9usvvvNm-ZuHW8IS1xUowj_4jgA8bUjVssdm2Pr9045G-OBflc03gOcoWke2u0QbZpMvEUu0_qsD-SxdGF0OQMzzsFn4mrv3_/s320/ElminaEntrance.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrance to Elmina Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNDXSWua_IPmcYY0bpB_-S1WA5ktWVHSas3nidmz5UCg6DgMH05Eh_Kp78pz1QxZCVvgJV8IAD5PPn_P4uTmQT6anBUbyr6bjjmpreFwFGWXHkxE6rWY3bcZQ312imybW0EPHqbWfZZX3/s1600/CapeCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNDXSWua_IPmcYY0bpB_-S1WA5ktWVHSas3nidmz5UCg6DgMH05Eh_Kp78pz1QxZCVvgJV8IAD5PPn_P4uTmQT6anBUbyr6bjjmpreFwFGWXHkxE6rWY3bcZQ312imybW0EPHqbWfZZX3/s320/CapeCastle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elmnia Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6hpDBNzP7GWFqjmHhC8pkeyJHR-0FBCfkJx_nBtT45BwefYByiyVtDbDRGKZCP6wLDUxbpmug9Y6ggk8GpNDS1-0biZbqXmYyN7IxYMP3d8tlH1dp9pKMzrlQxxdx9YBKwmdCyOzYZT7/s1600/ElminaInside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6hpDBNzP7GWFqjmHhC8pkeyJHR-0FBCfkJx_nBtT45BwefYByiyVtDbDRGKZCP6wLDUxbpmug9Y6ggk8GpNDS1-0biZbqXmYyN7IxYMP3d8tlH1dp9pKMzrlQxxdx9YBKwmdCyOzYZT7/s320/ElminaInside.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside Elmnia Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMZmy-CY_bBhK31v839Z_oaLXSErn4dHve2tdyGWHkDtaI46zzxS-FYJW_eusAjeO_RViuXcVW6yV27O9oi5gGxTY5x58jZDGYHdUE9Ugl0DoWFSAkptQt09O18C3-2PX_zAO4NcsDnVZ/s1600/ElminaCells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMZmy-CY_bBhK31v839Z_oaLXSErn4dHve2tdyGWHkDtaI46zzxS-FYJW_eusAjeO_RViuXcVW6yV27O9oi5gGxTY5x58jZDGYHdUE9Ugl0DoWFSAkptQt09O18C3-2PX_zAO4NcsDnVZ/s320/ElminaCells.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cells at Elmina</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvs8MSq23-h6ACthVYPi3e14QP-w_ZlASdNgjINsGGXnmtQpV46zEOmmcz6rRERy2dc3RcQdUCJiP0CwmK6iVGKxPjpfGnQKW5WcAt_6zwA-mvQw3zgWefyidFtveyIKR1s1-txhM4JIg5/s1600/ElminaChurch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvs8MSq23-h6ACthVYPi3e14QP-w_ZlASdNgjINsGGXnmtQpV46zEOmmcz6rRERy2dc3RcQdUCJiP0CwmK6iVGKxPjpfGnQKW5WcAt_6zwA-mvQw3zgWefyidFtveyIKR1s1-txhM4JIg5/s320/ElminaChurch.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Church is the building in the center, <br />
surrounded by cells at Elmina</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnfar15x8HM28-gaFtJhqRSZ8YwgY-B4s-D3IxuZAl9-bK72ImfWnrDBJTjG1YEHWhKyxvfxV6_uciylSqLcuNIrzwNjUnkSwbzK7eQTa6I5mw08wAnu3HPqaFcpBvYFLIVpGEah3cw7v/s1600/ElminaExitTunnel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnfar15x8HM28-gaFtJhqRSZ8YwgY-B4s-D3IxuZAl9-bK72ImfWnrDBJTjG1YEHWhKyxvfxV6_uciylSqLcuNIrzwNjUnkSwbzK7eQTa6I5mw08wAnu3HPqaFcpBvYFLIVpGEah3cw7v/s320/ElminaExitTunnel.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sign says "Slave Exit to Waiting Boats". We found this <br />
tunnel while wandering around the female dungeons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Visiting these castles was one of the things I was most looking forward to doing while here in Ghana. After leaving Elmina, the group spent the rest of the day lazying around at a beautiful beach resort. It was here, that I had an interesting conversation with a young African artist selling his paintings and jewelry that seemed to bring everything full circle. After the typical introductions, he realized that I was in fact, a ‘Black American’ and immediately asked me if I had felt at home yet here in Africa. After sensing my hesitation in answering his question, he continued with, “You should. My family is your family.” That small statement triggered an incredibly complex conversation about my connection with the people I come into daily contact with here and the people who spent time in those horribly beautiful castles before boarding the ships that would forever separate them from their homeland. Our discussion in short... there’s a shared history and common heritage between us. I’ve definitely felt this link and it’s something that has been made clear by the way the young Ghanaian women call me “sister” and the children so easily differentiate between me and the “Yobos” in my group. It’s hard to explain, but a sort of centering experience. </div>
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<span class="s1">In both castles hung a plaque sharing a poem written in the voice of the African people after the slave trade was put to an end. You can check out the picture, but it reads...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpJY0sl42mXeY1ZWrBv3ob1N7KbP5dg3q3xD2bBJxOfm-COMlBvEoPB-am2cpFkl8q2e7ZjEvoKvN5TVnj3Ft03K5vkh4g-MtuajU8QEgLJQrgB6NsZoiBZxEKNdduk7qehBi6WwO2jQN/s1600/InEverlastingMemory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpJY0sl42mXeY1ZWrBv3ob1N7KbP5dg3q3xD2bBJxOfm-COMlBvEoPB-am2cpFkl8q2e7ZjEvoKvN5TVnj3Ft03K5vkh4g-MtuajU8QEgLJQrgB6NsZoiBZxEKNdduk7qehBi6WwO2jQN/s200/InEverlastingMemory.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="s1">“IN EVERLASTING MEMORY OF THE ANGUISH OF OUR ANCESTORS. MAY THOSE WHO DIED REST IN PEACE. MAY THOSE WHO RETURN FIND THEIR ROOTS. MAY HUMANITY NEVER AGAIN PERPETRATE SUCH INJUSTICE AGAINST HUMANITY. WE, THE LIVING, VOW TO UPHOLD THIS.”</span></div>
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Cape Coast and Elmina are both extremely beautiful cities that carry such a tainted past. I thought it was interesting to see the hundreds of fisherman and boat builders working<b> </b>in the shadows of both castles. Here are some pictures:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKkMsclKxjDdlkl3XJjBHRvcaJTwYJ0Dxgy055kl1jNat-c1oYESKlStUMxqZAqkHikkGAWYXxy7OLc5ocT_HhdgdZTNynqsVyszpS0ufWQ2h7xYMIaJbScF-NvXyN7FEfH9TDmc40kDJ/s1600/CapeFishermanhardatwork.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKkMsclKxjDdlkl3XJjBHRvcaJTwYJ0Dxgy055kl1jNat-c1oYESKlStUMxqZAqkHikkGAWYXxy7OLc5ocT_HhdgdZTNynqsVyszpS0ufWQ2h7xYMIaJbScF-NvXyN7FEfH9TDmc40kDJ/s320/CapeFishermanhardatwork.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishing boats next to Cape Coast Castle</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5MnwTOUSi8QkYKjORVdZcBIe4w3UcTBFJarU9sY6TzD-8KTjzTVpc807MlmjJiwrnIhycsBs5GQgajb3i1JFpOPXjD4xNadGb01a-3ELel1j7gWfPadQnLmLF7a7zcOX5zEaEHc80OOY/s1600/Rooftops+of+CapeCoast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5MnwTOUSi8QkYKjORVdZcBIe4w3UcTBFJarU9sY6TzD-8KTjzTVpc807MlmjJiwrnIhycsBs5GQgajb3i1JFpOPXjD4xNadGb01a-3ELel1j7gWfPadQnLmLF7a7zcOX5zEaEHc80OOY/s320/Rooftops+of+CapeCoast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking onto the rooftops of Cape Coast <br />
from the Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZXEqn54eNagOOmzhyphenhyphenGwl2P076XXQDXCBolhx8KZVIs9OCYp26w7LT47AI9H0AvKKgL04C4gmCi_GlXUB9jeQZbKp8UvAo41Ig_5RwNZGmFjWB2vUYXCYYz-kQM-I0FbF4MdlCGeSKM5GG/s1600/BuildingBoats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZXEqn54eNagOOmzhyphenhyphenGwl2P076XXQDXCBolhx8KZVIs9OCYp26w7LT47AI9H0AvKKgL04C4gmCi_GlXUB9jeQZbKp8UvAo41Ig_5RwNZGmFjWB2vUYXCYYz-kQM-I0FbF4MdlCGeSKM5GG/s320/BuildingBoats.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few of the boat builders working outside of the Elmina Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72AkhwVAx8Yt-FUaptq40Nvx1GlGplnsaCfzqWvMnxp0gTWdlVEhyphenhyphenqLg4NtnVS_7PCnHM6U97_vH7_YxhT1FPqYd18dzdCeUfWWNzLKbxv_UZG75tLl3e_MeVlGOqvCNl5xw9_sZ71gOk/s1600/ElminaSunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72AkhwVAx8Yt-FUaptq40Nvx1GlGplnsaCfzqWvMnxp0gTWdlVEhyphenhyphenqLg4NtnVS_7PCnHM6U97_vH7_YxhT1FPqYd18dzdCeUfWWNzLKbxv_UZG75tLl3e_MeVlGOqvCNl5xw9_sZ71gOk/s320/ElminaSunset.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset at the beach near Elmina</td></tr>
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</div>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-51051987374072386402012-01-19T15:05:00.000-08:002012-01-19T15:28:59.524-08:00"Why Worry? Int."<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">First, a quick update on Happy Kids. Remember the other volunteer that was teaching P4 with me? She’s now at a different placement and will only be joining us every once in a while. That means I’m the only teacher with the class most days. I’m starting to really enjoy this teaching thing... which I guess is a good thing! Oh and I’ve learned that this group of kids was really two separate classes. One of which was left without a teacher and joined P4. The new challenge is planning lessons for kids on two very different levels. The easy part is that these kids really do want to learn and have been super helpful in learning the daily routine of the school. I’ll be focusing on English and Math and during our breaks they’ll be teaching me Ewe and soccer. I promise a picture of the class is coming, but pulling out a camera must be perfectly timed or lead pure chaos. Here are a few pictures I took today while on break. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfl7QrL2u3-bS9IGOAhWunoXqQ-7UxTBU0KPBUXTkOwLFZPPIsB3yz73QU1dUhmEqQ0FO-tYKpdG2-JQjrCxJdl1bTBpBf8zYxLfq0wNH_0ni33QHh3RH9Aux7XQIvYVR6TjXkTmBj6Zy/s1600/Moda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfl7QrL2u3-bS9IGOAhWunoXqQ-7UxTBU0KPBUXTkOwLFZPPIsB3yz73QU1dUhmEqQ0FO-tYKpdG2-JQjrCxJdl1bTBpBf8zYxLfq0wNH_0ni33QHh3RH9Aux7XQIvYVR6TjXkTmBj6Zy/s320/Moda.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Moda on the left is P4 with me!</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYJcORHNAeTM4PTI6yDDj6gV4eXs6p3rZq84hTMlaKov4Ap2pMlmJjBVwwGFjz-Nb0XgOU6vtTyHUMLApgB-OlsTit97-EPdN4wBAwxZ-GNv6zQqn3H3JYV4zIw3R4sHxWwEI2RKnrj2w/s1600/Nelson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYJcORHNAeTM4PTI6yDDj6gV4eXs6p3rZq84hTMlaKov4Ap2pMlmJjBVwwGFjz-Nb0XgOU6vtTyHUMLApgB-OlsTit97-EPdN4wBAwxZ-GNv6zQqn3H3JYV4zIw3R4sHxWwEI2RKnrj2w/s320/Nelson.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Nelson</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjN5hJxFqU41xn9RK4r0n7ZiSaPYEQrspD-vjtgcanBEHq0aTgwPZB5B1OCE7hDRkppLHyarMjlKNGmcTGNYEqcnuD3YnevAck7gTyEmHdScFUVdu2AVfY9_NK2vl9hbXzx5onZ_weh5Yg/s1600/Soccer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjN5hJxFqU41xn9RK4r0n7ZiSaPYEQrspD-vjtgcanBEHq0aTgwPZB5B1OCE7hDRkppLHyarMjlKNGmcTGNYEqcnuD3YnevAck7gTyEmHdScFUVdu2AVfY9_NK2vl9hbXzx5onZ_weh5Yg/s400/Soccer.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">A few of the P4 Boys and Moda</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’ve quickly settled into a bit of a routine as I come close to the end of my first week in Hohoe. Every morning, I wake up around 7am to get ready and eat breakfast consisting of bread/peanut butter, hard boiled egg and the most delicious pineapples I have ever tasted. Around 8am, we load up the van to carpool everyone to their placements. From 8am to 11:45am I am teaching at Happy Kids until I get picked up to make it home in time for lunch at noon. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After lunch is when we are able to roam around town and go on mini-excursions. The past two days have been especially interesting as we celebrated a birthday amongst the group and the departure of two volunteers who have been in Hohoe for the past 5 weeks. Wednesday afternoon we got a chance to visit the Wli Waterfall, with an 80meter drop is the highest waterfall in West Africa. We were only able to see the lower falls and are currently planning the hike to the higher pool to go swimming. I wasn’t planning on getting in the pool at the bottom of the waterfall, buuut after some effective peer pressuring by our staff member Mary and some other volunteers... I was in. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiesOuBMtMwaPWlEVSAlQNNZBaedS1EkkXAshyP7-II1v9_P3on5Da_PuArjA1f_Z0XgQMgl275-j8A7HszBhMqiaSyOBh48VouTnXAYNCYhf6bjTlIWr5YOvdv7pY3plc2G2-RxqFP4C7k/s1600/Wli2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiesOuBMtMwaPWlEVSAlQNNZBaedS1EkkXAshyP7-II1v9_P3on5Da_PuArjA1f_Z0XgQMgl275-j8A7HszBhMqiaSyOBh48VouTnXAYNCYhf6bjTlIWr5YOvdv7pY3plc2G2-RxqFP4C7k/s320/Wli2.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Wli</span></td></tr>
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In order to properly celebrate a birthday on Wednesday, we returned to the Home-Base for a quality meal. Our coordinator George planned a dessert surprise for Mike which consisted of a bucket filled with Coca-Cola, Fanta, Sprite and Hohoe's finest ice cream. We were excited to have ice cream, but quickly realized that the chocolate was frozen chocolate milk, strawberry was frozen yogurt (as in yogurt that had been stored in a freezer... not the Cuzzins or Orange Leaf kind) and vanilla was the way to go. We quickly finished dinner in order to head to<b> </b>Sunset Gardens... the little ‘bar’ on the corner that we pass everyday going to and from the house. Considering it was 7pm on a Wednesday night and we were the only ones there we all had a quick beer and were ready to head back home to get ready for the day ahead. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s1"></span>--</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This afternoon, a few other volunteers and myself went to a local orphanage with one of the volunteers who is leaving tomorrow. She’s spent most of her time here in Hohoe with these kids and wanted us to meet them before she said her goodbyes. These kids, like most I’ve talked to so far in Hohoe, were super polite and excited to see a new face and spend time with us. After realizing that we knew the 'secret' handshake (with the snap), they held our hands and showed us around. I realized immediately how independent this group of about 30 kids are. While their 2 house moms lead the effort to cook meals, they all (ages 6 to 17) seem to just look out for one another. They've definitely created a strong family unit amongst themselves. We didn’t get to spend much time with them, but after the hour or so we were there... the group agreed that we would definitely be back.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CLIG8VLbvvdII6FyZ_Wn_cdKR3Hg_TDhsRjxnsunX-P1ICPrRwXHvupnLUQXB6mkd977_vQlb2sJXl0-9lsWguQGLAv-HSoYBGFhTOO8mjQSX3meupNNUoEH4TAIMJG3YMH6xBIrIXda/s1600/BoysOrphanage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CLIG8VLbvvdII6FyZ_Wn_cdKR3Hg_TDhsRjxnsunX-P1ICPrRwXHvupnLUQXB6mkd977_vQlb2sJXl0-9lsWguQGLAv-HSoYBGFhTOO8mjQSX3meupNNUoEH4TAIMJG3YMH6xBIrIXda/s320/BoysOrphanage.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Two of the boys</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaun9ESt51RorNZITvIWGtZ_F-HcNjqMM5prAJO0WpGPAQrlcKoKj8fdfFq8ydDYf133o2dKlEPGoQfxOFH1gjGzGUDJsN3gzlg88ekwH6CB-fqBRduzZGCGzQM4jq42K5PDrFydTfHH09/s1600/GirlsOrphanage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaun9ESt51RorNZITvIWGtZ_F-HcNjqMM5prAJO0WpGPAQrlcKoKj8fdfFq8ydDYf133o2dKlEPGoQfxOFH1gjGzGUDJsN3gzlg88ekwH6CB-fqBRduzZGCGzQM4jq42K5PDrFydTfHH09/s320/GirlsOrphanage.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"> Two of the Girls still in their school uniform</span></td></tr>
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">--</span><br />
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We’ve spent a good amount of time at the market and in the shops around town. The atmosphere ‘downtown’ is really interesting to me. Even with the mixture of car horns, kids running to and from school and pedestrians carrying things on their heads there is an extremely welcoming feeling. This could be due to the naming of the stores - “Thank Jesus Ent.” “His Grace Beauty Shop” “Babyface Barbershop” “Grace and Love Fashions” "Why Worry? Int.", but I think it’s much more than that.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL5g9H-POfNQ986mQ1qYZ8xaj1qPAOEHTLTFBKpQoGEA7if6xsVqiWaICT9dhai-1WxyvpeYOuUvoDtjFwXcXjWwB4N0XYAxWwMiRsgh5mrlEAoWhMP-l-Us-AybWa5SvBmqr07oVAYCI/s1600/Womeninthemarket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL5g9H-POfNQ986mQ1qYZ8xaj1qPAOEHTLTFBKpQoGEA7if6xsVqiWaICT9dhai-1WxyvpeYOuUvoDtjFwXcXjWwB4N0XYAxWwMiRsgh5mrlEAoWhMP-l-Us-AybWa5SvBmqr07oVAYCI/s320/Womeninthemarket.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Life at the market</span></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfZs03d2_DnY0nmQmSt6SVzOz71HJ7RFbUyKtAnp6MJp5rpZGtDfBpuRoC500derCmusE_xEfLVxA-by2568M1ISozH8sIhtqyEiZgmL5AxoAaEnxlpg0oegaw9RBqKsbejcTm9Ez9jwB/s1600/BabyonBack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTfZs03d2_DnY0nmQmSt6SVzOz71HJ7RFbUyKtAnp6MJp5rpZGtDfBpuRoC500derCmusE_xEfLVxA-by2568M1ISozH8sIhtqyEiZgmL5AxoAaEnxlpg0oegaw9RBqKsbejcTm9Ez9jwB/s320/BabyonBack.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">The most common way to carry a baby. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">These women keep busy so this is quite useful.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGrTB4-BsuSSk4eeG5hkp6cRwRD9-_qSyE7lQf9dyICT5ZSRUtXB3g_rmeOfsgfQrHmNOGIEgLMYz9X2YpfrklLUhuPl1-KkMabM-3L4Elw5YSx2Fb3uOu42Aa4zs2c43L29EkaOxMXmKC/s1600/SewingMachine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGrTB4-BsuSSk4eeG5hkp6cRwRD9-_qSyE7lQf9dyICT5ZSRUtXB3g_rmeOfsgfQrHmNOGIEgLMYz9X2YpfrklLUhuPl1-KkMabM-3L4Elw5YSx2Fb3uOu42Aa4zs2c43L29EkaOxMXmKC/s320/SewingMachine.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">That's a sewing machine up there!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lX44A97hv_f6tu1h1cploRiK5ipHv2-X35hUxgTsO5-Obc6hSl0jBtATvVJF9xjyyH-krJZ9BFIQcXHVdgw57z6s9roFfZMPrR3lBmUF-lBhex3a42zfj8-KwXFRMh8_Ber1ZZ4bt-EK/s1600/Fabric1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lX44A97hv_f6tu1h1cploRiK5ipHv2-X35hUxgTsO5-Obc6hSl0jBtATvVJF9xjyyH-krJZ9BFIQcXHVdgw57z6s9roFfZMPrR3lBmUF-lBhex3a42zfj8-KwXFRMh8_Ber1ZZ4bt-EK/s400/Fabric1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Fabric on Fabric on Fabric in the market</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Random Things I’ve noticed/learned:</span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kids love getting their picture taken because they rarely get a chance to see what they look like. There aren’t too many mirrors around Hohoe. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The traditional naming of children in Ghana has many rules. Babies aren't named until 7 days after birth and are given a name for a variety of reasons. Names could be inspired by the day of the week, weather conditions at the time of birth, or prosperous family members. Naming sometimes involves consulting a soothsayer.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Both Star and Stone both claim the title of ‘Best Lager in Ghana’</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A rooster is a male chicken and a hen is a female chicken. This may be common knowledge, but was news to me.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hohoe is currently experiencing unusually cold temperatures due to the dry winds blowing in from the Sahara I’ve seen our security guys wearing knit hats and long trench coats at night. Its been at least 90 degrees everyday and the nightly low is no less than 75. </span></li>
</ul>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-21483932059581225662012-01-17T14:58:00.000-08:002012-01-17T15:14:31.451-08:00Happy Kids. Happy Drumming.<u>The Kids</u><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yugzb2Fxh-_ecwf2T9Jvdn-RS3ZDIDagQ0c1Sz-wDrU3cnx4yl23A04jq4kyXKgO5RAB1WdWc4FAUvSYWtz43SGaPnrU2ADgZP9nbO-vNgHFvM04jSPJyFi1wbaf_X_-TyEN9gPfxKSa/s1600/HappyKidsSign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yugzb2Fxh-_ecwf2T9Jvdn-RS3ZDIDagQ0c1Sz-wDrU3cnx4yl23A04jq4kyXKgO5RAB1WdWc4FAUvSYWtz43SGaPnrU2ADgZP9nbO-vNgHFvM04jSPJyFi1wbaf_X_-TyEN9gPfxKSa/s320/HappyKidsSign.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The past two days have been jam packed with new things in Hohoe as we all have started working at our various placements. CCS places its volunteers and interns at different sites around town. In Ghana, most placements are in schools, health clinics, women's empowerment groups or orphanages. I will be spending my next 8 weeks working at the Happy Kids School with another CCS volunteer. Promptly at 8am Monday morning, we all loaded our trusty van "Big Blue" and began the drive around town to drop everyone at their placements. There was a sense of excitement and anxiousness in the van as we all realized that we had no clue what to expect or what exactly our responsibilities would be once we arrived. I felt comfortable enough helping classroom teachers with any age student and was excited to finally met these 'Happy Kids'.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzNB7pU4jSQKofk8ZgmUi5jkaWWIM8QXkfxrwP_NsfG48-_Ns5zezYsZ-tY13FDCq7mNC1-baday90Zb58HDc2y7eD3Mdouno8eIbH05qx176836cvA1FAmkKr4_ExCfFnHL8QgW8zsQh/s1600/AlltheKids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzNB7pU4jSQKofk8ZgmUi5jkaWWIM8QXkfxrwP_NsfG48-_Ns5zezYsZ-tY13FDCq7mNC1-baday90Zb58HDc2y7eD3Mdouno8eIbH05qx176836cvA1FAmkKr4_ExCfFnHL8QgW8zsQh/s400/AlltheKids.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy Kids is a Prep School of about 100 pre-K to 6th grade students and as we turned into the school we saw lots of kids running around the yard and getting their last minute playtime in before class. Apparently, the kids had been awaiting our arrival. As one of the staff members opened the van door for my co-worker and me, tons of the kids ran up to us waving to give us hugs and say "You are welcome!" Look at these kids and just imagine. After the pack of students were done hugging us, we took a quick tour of the 5 room schoolhouse. During the tour, we noticed that the 'P4' classroom seemed to be without a teacher. Long story short... they needed a teacher, we were there, now myself and another volunteer are the teachers for P4.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So there we were, two twenty somethings standing in front of a class of sixteen 10 to 15 year olds in a classroom with no books, no materials and a small language barrier. (The official language in Ghana is English but because most people speak the Ewe dialect, most kids don't learn English until age 4 or 5) We were just supposed to be observing classrooms and getting the feel for things, so I wasn't at all prepared to lead a class and am extremely thankful that the other volunteer (who has had experience teaching English to Japanese students) was with me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Luckily, this P4 class is unlike any other group of elementary aged kids I have ever seen. After reminding us that we should feel welcome there and doing some brief introductions we went out on a limb and asked them what they wanted to learn. They immediately told us that they wanted to learn more English and hear about America. Some students told us they were really good at math or science, but could use some more practice. The oldest proudly told us he was the best at math. It was amazing and these kids really seemed happy to be at school. They giggled with their friends at their inside jokes, laughed at our American accents and eagerly participated in the name-games and intro activities we could think of on the spot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This morning, as promised we came prepared with paper, markers, flashcards, dice for multiplication and Uno. We busted out some multiplication tables, spelled animals in English, and by request taught them a few words in Spanish. For tomorrow, they have requested more English and some sort of science. There aren't too many things that make waking up at 7am everyday enjoyable, but I'm looking forward to my mornings with P4 for the next 8 weeks. Expect lots of updates about the class and Happy Kids. Also, I've learned that Happy Kids doesn't have a standard curriculum for each grade, so that's something I hope to work on while I'm here. Any help from the educators out there would be greatly appreciated... (I'm looking at you mom)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<u><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Drumming</span></u><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWsQJ_W45sXhCD6ICiYAn-u8SxUKS6E5MINv2R5oQ0aOmqN5Z64MfaoVQkdoEtgUE3dAsM0UDr22qrDQsMdF3vpJXDN98rJM1x_YyudzPMFxzAwt2-dHXQ8vqGkIc8UTeqizU5_6AoFsf/s1600/CulturalGroup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWsQJ_W45sXhCD6ICiYAn-u8SxUKS6E5MINv2R5oQ0aOmqN5Z64MfaoVQkdoEtgUE3dAsM0UDr22qrDQsMdF3vpJXDN98rJM1x_YyudzPMFxzAwt2-dHXQ8vqGkIc8UTeqizU5_6AoFsf/s400/CulturalGroup.jpg" width="400" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Monday evening CCS arranged for us to have a tradition African welcome from the one of the most popular choral/drumming and dancing groups in Ghana. They we fantastic and played us a few traditional celebration songs, songs used for hunting rituals back in the day, and a few contemporary favorites. Their performance was great (it's all about the footwork), but things really got started when they asked us to join in. Be on the lookout for a video!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Some of the volunteers were a little wary about dancing with the group, but most of us had a great time learning the moves. I was obviously all for it... but I guess I've never really been that shy. After the dancing we got a chance to learn how to play some of the drums. I loved it and some of the staff members said I was good enough to get my own drum. One of the younger girls in the choir wasn't as impressed and during our goodbyes came up to me to say that I did a great job, but need to work on getting lower with the dances. Maybe next time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We're heading to the Wli Waterfall tomorrow! Check back for an update on that and life at the local market.</span><br />
<br />
Much Love!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpZzAQMBrzxUqA6v7_aMz-EiV05mohgqxEmFa1sPSLw04wVcOiOSMhRY84KTJPU03ZHQg13sYhhyA2AzK3CYZNnn8x3qbBqJDtiww-mVTjYGXTqs4lM0_mtZOYGYPh5wZYv3F7T77MXid/s1600/DANCING.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpZzAQMBrzxUqA6v7_aMz-EiV05mohgqxEmFa1sPSLw04wVcOiOSMhRY84KTJPU03ZHQg13sYhhyA2AzK3CYZNnn8x3qbBqJDtiww-mVTjYGXTqs4lM0_mtZOYGYPh5wZYv3F7T77MXid/s320/DANCING.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFIu1GCqxBJCt4eq7oiKHAASBe20Eiyys22SPUrroPsh7X08gG3C4TmSkroahGWJ9bIVbZEVKlb43PsOx9c60NlkRKGN5KjgV4Og6y5orqs3i5lJgUWdMbPmwiuJUWoxpJUUTw-DlNQfS/s1600/WomenDancing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFIu1GCqxBJCt4eq7oiKHAASBe20Eiyys22SPUrroPsh7X08gG3C4TmSkroahGWJ9bIVbZEVKlb43PsOx9c60NlkRKGN5KjgV4Og6y5orqs3i5lJgUWdMbPmwiuJUWoxpJUUTw-DlNQfS/s320/WomenDancing.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<br />Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-51337170476955460142012-01-16T13:53:00.000-08:002012-01-16T13:53:32.174-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXspSUQNrbFm52dOfEUwacPkCUx04e_kQoZXf_ij799QUtAUNzK9EC7AVWI-TXMHZmsBYCLCiVzhwbwY7Ph1MtrAlQWTJyCIplBlQgTa78nVzcSCMO6GjMf3pFIwnAj4Ll1dfQEekRP1c/s1600/Ruth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /> </a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the house. Notice the chickens and volleyball net!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5XX84I-IDNm3AzS6hczlt0U0Uz6KY1p3qdjvfGCH0L6KvBIAgQHWUQlT-CtwgrLv8rS5M3QMqZAJc6DF3K5wqkjem_bajDElB3IR0R4Cd5iKZc0ctCsmUEZeLzYp8-A-3FoSxACZIFCfV/s1600/George%2526Mary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-p4UZn3mlCF9KAPBZlm08Wfg5Q4AVubomQvPAWjxt0tvtQ66pF11eZXOb5xZXk9byDv9FPwC3CPPYTwaH9Lx2Ia_UwzcScIGOsPL0FZE0aS6_d0-jAPkwQgq1p0gUBNvVSsWtB0PnkgA/s1600/Down+the+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-p4UZn3mlCF9KAPBZlm08Wfg5Q4AVubomQvPAWjxt0tvtQ66pF11eZXOb5xZXk9byDv9FPwC3CPPYTwaH9Lx2Ia_UwzcScIGOsPL0FZE0aS6_d0-jAPkwQgq1p0gUBNvVSsWtB0PnkgA/s320/Down+the+street.jpg" width="320" /></a> <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5XX84I-IDNm3AzS6hczlt0U0Uz6KY1p3qdjvfGCH0L6KvBIAgQHWUQlT-CtwgrLv8rS5M3QMqZAJc6DF3K5wqkjem_bajDElB3IR0R4Cd5iKZc0ctCsmUEZeLzYp8-A-3FoSxACZIFCfV/s320/George%2526Mary.jpg" width="226" /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Down the street Staff Members - George & Mary</span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruth lives next door. I promise she's shy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6rPOpRB0lFqdXSV1dn7HNcWQ8wzwMwjE4ksNXsOpkzsm7a2cT-9rscuqTH5kunMayeXRg8YYYS_ILVEaNuRK88S6FKwMJWRLv05TIXNZ09UG8riFoSIMooKyRpRlro9Kgv50ZOE2d3bR/s1600/Ruth%2526sister.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6rPOpRB0lFqdXSV1dn7HNcWQ8wzwMwjE4ksNXsOpkzsm7a2cT-9rscuqTH5kunMayeXRg8YYYS_ILVEaNuRK88S6FKwMJWRLv05TIXNZ09UG8riFoSIMooKyRpRlro9Kgv50ZOE2d3bR/s320/Ruth%2526sister.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruth's friend</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-2751225207534167552012-01-15T15:45:00.000-08:002012-01-15T15:49:18.412-08:00Wezon! Welcome!<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After an 11 hour plane ride from New York to Accra, a 2 hour effort to get through customs and baggage claim and a 5 hour bumpy car ride... I made it to Hohoe. It was quite the adventure and needless to say, I was glad to make it to the 'Home-Base' where I'll be staying for the next 8 weeks with 7 other CCS interns and volunteers. Once at the Home-Base we took a quick tour, met the staff members who will make this place my home away from home, and tried to catch up on sleep. While I slept through the roosters that apparently woke everyone else up, I was excited to take a tour of the village and check out Hohoe during the daylight. Because most people were in church until late afternoon, most of the shops were closed so we won't get the full market experience until tomorrow. We did get a chance to talk to a few of the local Ghanaian people and learn the standard Hohoe handshake. The key is the snap as your releasing the other persons hand. Trust me, it's complicated. The snap can't be too hard or too light and must be done using both hands.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here are some other fun things I learned today:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Almost every family has their own goats and/or chickens. These goats and chickens freely roam the streets during the day, but always find their way back home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- "Colored People Time" or "Black People Time" is real, but really "African Time". African-Americans have learned this trait from our ancestors.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Driving in Ghana is crazy. There are rocky dirt roads without lanes, street lights, stop signs or enforced speed limits. The horn is used to notify other drivers that you are going to pass, stop, speed up or just to say hello. The proper response to someone beeping their horn at you, is to beep back. It's just the friendly thing to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- It is unheard of for parents to only have one child. I told someone I didn't have any brothers or sisters today and he immediately responded, "Nooo, you need a brother. I'll be your brother."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- It is common for kids to call the white people "Yobos" which means <i>White Americans</i>. Apparently there is no special word for black people because the kids just call me "Black American".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- During the dry season in Hohoe it's always 90 degrees and breezy :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tomorrow is my first day at the Happy Kids School and our first drumming/dancing lesson. I have a full week ahead so stay tuned for more updates! </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here is a picture of the Home-Base. I'll upload more pics once I can get faster internet connection.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lCTnGXECN03Ezdwqkh2_jeqNzIYZ_93E3DvJWZbKEyDh8KbFseMK-DoxLKz-NPL5LgHcSo6BVQRdKPfWqFDfc4UCuI_EiEA33_ihJmyFduPX7cshJaJ5vwumPKbZcfnD4wudM1IxeRq2/s1600/Home-Base.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lCTnGXECN03Ezdwqkh2_jeqNzIYZ_93E3DvJWZbKEyDh8KbFseMK-DoxLKz-NPL5LgHcSo6BVQRdKPfWqFDfc4UCuI_EiEA33_ihJmyFduPX7cshJaJ5vwumPKbZcfnD4wudM1IxeRq2/s320/Home-Base.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Falon Rainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12278203474196721966noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8021674151394359571.post-25380099422720915802012-01-12T21:20:00.000-08:002012-01-12T22:00:06.468-08:00Here Today, Ghana Tomorrow<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The title is corny, but you get it. Tomorrow night I fly to Ghana where I will be spending the next 8 weeks. I'm traveling with Cross Cultural Solutions and will be staying at their home-base in Hohoe, Ghana in the Volta Region of the country. I will be working in the Happy Kids School, spending lots of time exploring the village, taking a few weekend adventures, getting to know the Ghanaian people and learning about the beautiful West African culture. Don't worry, I'll be sure to tell you all about it. I hope to use this blog to share pictures and stories with everyone back home. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks everyone for all of the support and well-wishes!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**If you're thinking, "Where exactly is Ghana?" or "What is a Hohoe?" check out the maps below for some clarification. </span></div>
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