Out of West Africa

I don't think that red light means what you think it means.

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Sat, 16 Jun 2012 22:42:00 +0000

I have returned.

Though it has been fewer than six months since my last visit to Ghana, I am very glad to be back. Even in that short time frame, I have noticed changes. Previously, I lived in a place near Dzorwulu called "Fiesta Junction", not because they throw wild Cinco de Mayo street parties, but because it is by the Fiesta Royale Hotel. You can still direct a cab to the Fiesta Junction, but there is a new common name:

Dzorwulu - Traffic Light.

This is because the traffic light there now works. Brilliant. Of course, whether or not people stop for red is a different question.

I still live in Dzorwulu, but in a different part that's a bit more convenient for transportation and purchasing basic goods--no more need for frequent trips to the Accra Mall, which is close to Fiesta. I also now have another semester's worth of Twi vocabulary, so taxi rides are getting even more interesting.

Me: M'aha madamfo, wc ho te s3n? [Good afternoon, my friend, how are you?]

Driver [not as stunned as previously, due to my improved accent]: Me ho y3. Na wo nso3? [Good, and you?]

Me: Mepes3 me kc Engen filling station Adabraka, ehene na Museum. 3y3s3n? [I want to go to the Engen filling station in Adabraka, near the Museum.]

Driver: Cedi nnotwe. [Eight cedis.]

Me: Daabi, daabi, o! Ne boc ed3n! Te me so kakraa. Cedi num. [No! That's too expensive! [insert play-acting] Lower it for me. Five cedis.]

Driver: Daabi, daabi [litany of excuses here]. You pay six cedis.

Me: Aane. [Okay].

Driver: [several words of Twi I don't know]

Me: ...

Driver: Oh, so you know enough to get a good price? That is very smart.

Me: Yes. I can also ask where you're from.

Driver: You look Asian. Are you from Japan/Korea/Singapore/China/Korea/Republic of Korea?

Me: My family's from the Philippines.

Driver: Oh! So you are like Pacquiao! Manny Pacquiao!

Me: Yeah, I guess. Maybe.

~~

The drivers here are generally nice, and because of my location I get to explore new areas of Accra that I have not previously visited such as New Town. New Town is a bit of a misnomer, and could properly be called Re-Used Town because many of the shops and dwellings are constructed from re-used shipping containers and materials. Of course, the "new" part indicates that this is an expanding part of Accra. Urbanization, right there. And Accra is a Millennium City.

A funny thing happened on a rainy night drive through New Town:

Driver: So [Houston?], we have a problem.

Me: What?

Driver: My headlights don't work.

You might wonder, why didn't we notice this before? Well, given that cab headlights are so dim to begin with, they're more there so that other cabs will have at least 10 feet's notice before hitting us rather than lighting the actual way.

Driver [we're going about 15mph]: I'm not sure here. What should we do?

Me: You're asking me?

Driver: Yes.

Me: Uhhhhh. Oh, turn on your hazards! So people can see us.

Driver: Oh, that's good.

We drive for another 10 minutes. I'm okay with this, and we're not going that fast.

Driver: Actually, I think I will find you another cab.

Me: What, really?

Driver: Yes, I don't think this is safe.

Me: Seriously?

I am pleasantly surprised. This driver actually cared more about my safety than making money off the fare. I got into another cab, and made it safely to my destination.

No matter times you travel to a place, there is always room for surprises. For instance, the pace of technology has picked up remarkably over the past few years. I still have my first Ghanaian cell phone: a basic Samsung. I did three things with it: (1) make phone calls, (2) text and (3) play Jewel Hunter. And I thought those things were awesome. Maybe they still are. I got a second phone a year after that, but it had basically the same functions: I switched to have the most popular network in Ghana.

Now I have a Droid here. It has a camera, Internet, can be used as a wi-fi hotspot. I am tempted to set up a Twitter account so I can post photos and messages, and then have them imported into Facebook all from this phone. Look at how far we've Ghana.

Perhaps for my next post I will take photos every five minutes of my morning commute and post them to Facebook. Caption contests? And, yes, I do have the DSLR with me, but it's just slightly inconvenient to take to work. But, from a more academic standpoint, there are numerous papers, which I may discuss here later, about citizens using mobiles to hold their politicians accountable. It's fascinating stuff.

~~

I will be in the country for 10 weeks, working on PhD dissertation research. On previous trips, I have employed mostly survey methods, but this time I will work on ethnographies. Such work starts right at the beginning of the day with my commute. This summer, I plan to take mostly tro-tros and shared taxis to work, experiencing what people in many developing countries do every day. Tro-tros carry around 20 people.

But I guess there's no need to worry about our headlights. We can light the way with our phones.

Soon to be Ghana

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 12:03:00 +0000

So I will be departing Ghana later this evening, but I will write a summary post once I return to my apartment. The research has gone better than expected, though I would have liked a bit more travel time out of Accra In any case, I'll be here for the summer. Internet has been a bit slow lately, so I haven't been able to post photos--but will do so as soon as I can!

Ghanaian politics has been more exciting than usual this past week: the Attorney General was recently sacked for unsubstantiated comments made about the Mills government (though really someone should look into the basis for those comments) and the ruling NDC party holds its primaries today.

See you stateside.

Off to Kumasi

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 23:50:00 +0000

Apologies for the lack of updates this past week. The work days have been quite arduous--Ministry test surveys started on Tuesday, and are coming along well. Luckily, I have a most excellent research officer to administer the interviews, but there's a bit of footwork on my end to coordinate times and other survey logistics. Also, visits to various Minister offices have turned out better than expected (I'm setting up summer research plans already), and I'm certainly excited to start putting the next phase in motion.

In contrast to previous projects, I've also gone in to Accra almost every night this week, revisiting many of my favorite places. I justify this by the fact that January is technically Harvard's break period, and when I get back (in 10 days, argh) I'll be immediately starting spring semester. Of course, January break hasn't stopped some of my professors from adding on assignments to their not actually finished fall courses. You know who you are. Besides, I'm in Accra. Fieldwork in Africa >> coding/despairing in freezing Cambridge.

Speaking of favorite places, I'll be flying to Kumasi this weekend to see some old friends. I lived there for a couple months in 2009, and it will be interesting to see how things have changed in the past two years. Though some things haven't changed--when I called my old hotel (Sanbra Hotel--really awesome place, will post pics in next update) to book my favorite balcony room, the receptionist recognized my voice within five seconds. That's what I call hospitality. I'll also be sure to take some photos around the city. I haven't really lugged my camera around Accra because I feel that it's riskier and there are fewer photos to take, anyways. But I'll bring it to Ministries next week as I think my funders want photos of the surveys in action. Survey papers are more awesome when there's bokeh involved. Then you throw in the sepia tones. And the crowd goes wild.

Anyways, I'll update again over the weekend. Tomorrow afternoon's flight should be interesting. As far as I know, we'll be running Saab 340 equipment. A versatile prop-jet but we'll also be flying into some thick harmattan dust. I might have an unhealthy fascination with developing-world aviation. Once on a flight from Kumasi to Accra we had to weave around columns of smoke just north of Accra due to forest fires. It was kind of fun. Too bad grad school gets in the way of the pilot's license.

Kwekus Reunited

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 23:09:00 +0000

This afternoon, I met up with my old friend, Thomas, with whom I worked during my very first research trip to Ghana. Here we are in July 2008, at the Port of Takoradi:

And now here we are today, more mature as researchers, and--yes, hard to believe--even more dashing:

In case you were wondering, Thomas and I were both born on Wednesdays. In Ghana, children are frequently given names according to the day of the week on which they were born; for Twi-speakers, Kweku is a name typically given to a boy born on Wednesday. So this makes us Thomas Kweku and Joe Kweku.

Thomas is finishing up his PhD at Cambridge in Criminology. Look for him to have a very positive effect on Ghana in the years to come.

Minor Differences

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 22:33:00 +0000

Apologies for not posting these past couple days--things have been quite busy, but I am happy to report that my surveys look like they will run on schedule, starting next week. I completed the sampling and recruitment today, and should be able to finalize the instrument tomorrow.

Finalize the instrument. Great phrase. I think it will become my "clear the mechanism". Right before I finally throw that perfect game.

That said, these past few days I've had time to reflect on how Ghana, specifically Accra, is different from my last visit, over 18 months ago. I don't think there are any glaringly huge differences; naturally, I expect there will be new things given the country's development, but nothing overly unexpected.

As they apply to me, the differences noticed in this research assignment compared to previous ones are fairly minor. Except that they are not.

Of course, there are language differences between British English that's spoken here and the American English I grew up with (up with which I grew?), so I won't elaborate there, but, as an aside, I've never really understood the rationale for calling the letter 'z', 'zed'. My roommate and I have had this debate.

Tell me, what's the first letter in the word, 'zed'? RECURSIVE MIND IMPLOSION. YOU'RE WELCOME.

And of course there's the difference in how you count the stories of a building. Here, the first story is above the ground floor. But, really, how many stories does this building have? Come on.

Okay, enough of that. On to the real stuff

(1) Living in Dzorwulu v. Living in East Legon

Currently, I live in a district called Dzorwulu (pronounced JOR-loo), specifically at the Fiesta Junction because there is a nearby hotel, the Fiesta Royale, that is as ostentatious as it sounds. It's a nice area, right on the northern fringe of Accra, just south of the Accra-Tema motorway. For reference--and another difference--that motorway is officially called the George Walker Bush Highway. But I have never heard anyone call it that. Minor difference.

A stone's throw away, on the other side of the highway, is East Legon. Of course, by a stone's throw, I mean if I picked up a small, very aerodynamic pebble, had gale force winds at my back and had the shoulder ligaments of Aaron Rodgers I might be able to propel it into East Legon around the 246th iteration.

East Legon is similar to Dzorwulu, a residential area, though perhaps a bit ritzier. But the differences are astronomical.

Traffic. Getting OUT of East Legon can take over 90 minutes during rush hour. Getting out of Dzorwulu takes to the end of this sent--. Why so long to get out of East Legon? As a ritzy residential area, everyone has cars, no one car pools and the 2-3 miniscule exits simply jam. A perfect non-political example of one of my personal political maxims: persons are smart (I want to have a car because I've made it!), people are not (WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE HAVE A CAR?!). And then you have to cross the Tema Motorway, which is itself ridiculous.

Electricity. In East Legon, the power would go out for 14 hours at a time. But that's not a problem if you have a generator, and most people do. (If you can't tell, I didn't.) This also has interesting political implications. Why demand electricity from your representative or your local bureaucrat, when you can just buy your own generator and fuel? The same goes for paving roads, which are hit or miss in East Legon.

This makes me wonder--East Legon has experienced a rise in violent and property crime recently. Maybe if residents are lacking in local, civic engagement, then there's less incentive to watch out for others, for your neighbors? Less chance that someone will report a crime they witness? This used to happen in New York in the 70s and 80s. Sometimes those social networks are the best safety nets.

Dzorwulu, on the other hand, has got the electricity and water and feels safe so far. The first two haven't gone out yet ... but I'll probably regret that statement shortly. Of course, my landlord informed me that these things don't go out here, because the ex-President lives in this neighborhood. So maybe you just have to be near someone really powerful.

(2) Twi in cabs v. English in cabs

This past semester, I took a course in Asante Twi: just the basics, introductions and chit chat, so far, but I've decided to deploy my new "skills" on some of my favorite people: taxi drivers.

As I've mentioned before, being obviously non-Ghanaian--it's my accent, naturally--results in me receiving the tourist discount (read: 200% markup) on taxi rides. There are no meters here; you have to negotiate the price in advance.

The first cab ride I took I did not deploy Twi--and subsequently got burned in the wallet. However, this guy did not have a radio, so we sat there in awkward silence.

Awkward, awkward silence.

And then I had an idea.

Me: Madanfo, wo din de s3n? (My friend, what is your name?)

Driver [STUNNED]: Uhh, uhh ... my name? Uhh, me din de ... Obi--?

Me [wishing I could ask if he were the Ghanaian Obi-Wan Kenobi]: Wo firi hene? (where are you from?)

Obi-wan: Me firi ... Eastern Region.

That's right, Obi-wan. The force is strong in this one.

We eventually switched to English, and he turned out to be pretty cool. Told me to hire his cab next time--he's stationed at the Government Ministries, where I'm surveying, so maybe I'll find him and he can give me the Ghanaian rate. As you saw in my last post, cab drivers really remember you.

Also, I think this should be the real final exam in Twi. Use your skills to get the Ghanaian rate from a cab driver. The lower the price, the higher your score.

Today (Friday) was casual Fridays at the Ministries. No joke. Basically everyone wears their kente patterns to work. I brought one kente shirt along specifically for this purpose, so I wore it today, looking extra Ghanaian. I hail a cab in Dzorwulu; this conversation followed.

Me: Maakye, madanfo, mepes3 me kc Ministries. (Morning, my friend, I want to go to Ministries.)

Driver: [Eyes widen, bursts into laughter]

Me: Eyes3n? (how much?)

Driver: Ministries. 10 cedis.

Me: Daabi. Cedi nnotwe. (No. Eight cedis.)

We settle on nine. Still high, but an improvement. Later today I got eight. The driver proceeded to call a friend, and talk excitedly. I'm not sure what about, but in my mind it goes like: "DUDE YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS I HAVE A TWI-SPEAKING OBRUNI HERE".

Let's see what I can pull off after another semester.

(3) Government Department v. Kennedy School.

Okay, this one is an old one, but it is a distinction I must frequently make. In fact, a few years ago the then-G2s in my department created a holiday video lampooning this difference.

I have a very good friend who was at the Kennedy School many years ago. He's one of my Harvard connections, and has been so helpful since the day I first met him, four years ago. However, he often still introduces me as an HKS student rather than the much-more-difficult-to-say Government Department of the Graduate School of Arts & Sciences.

Really, some benefactor needs to endow GSAS and give it a simple name so that we can rival Kennedy.

So introductions sometimes go like this.

Friend [to important official]: This is my good friend, Joe. He is a PhD student at the Kennedy School at Harvard!

Me: Well, actually ...

Official: The Kennedy School! That's brilliant! There are so many important people who go through there, and I really hope to get there one day--

Me: That's really great, but--

Official: And they have the Institute of Politics! (Me, mentally, you've heard of the IOP?) With all those speakers. And the professors must be top notch. How are your classes? How are things at the Kennedy School?

Me [wondering about those IRB warnings on use of the Harvard name]: They're absolutely splendid.

Now, I have a lot of friends at HKS and my first research job was there, so I like that place a lot. It's a great school. I know other academic political scientists might be less open to the practice-oriented policy schools.

Maybe we should just merge. At least it would make my life easier.

(4) One mosquito in your room v. Zero mosquitoes in your room

Despite my investment in a permethrin mosquito net and mosquito coils, last night I found a mosquito in my room. Now having battled something that felt like malaria twice, I, a usually very calm person, freak out a bit--probably because there was no one around to see me.

Naturally, these exact thoughts go through your mind:

(a) This mosquito clearly has malaria.

(b) It will bite me repeatedly rather than just leave and feast on other less protected people.

(d) Those mefloquine anti-malarials are placebos. I haven't had any crazy dreams yet. They're not working.

(e) Something just brushed my--OH MAN I'VE BEEN BI--false alarm.

I then spent about half an hour trying to kill by swatting anything that resembled a mosquito, that had shadows like a mosquito. Let's just say there are a lot of pulverized dust bunnies in my room.

Actually, this behavior is part of a broader phenomenon: think you are very slightly ill in Africa v. thinking you are very slightly ill anywhere else.

Here, a slight tummy rumble--if you are crazed enough to read through Lonely Planet Healthy Travel Africa--could be anything from NOTHING to giardiasis to intestinal parasites to malaria to man-eating flukes.

Or you could just be hungry. As Leo asked us: "What is the most resilient parasite?" Yes, an idea. Followed immediately by giardiasis.

The first couple days I had a slight headache. I figured out what it was. Caffeine withdrawal. A cup of tea and I was better. Though if in three months I have river blindness then you'll know I was wrong.

Those symptoms anywhere else: Whatever.

Okay, time to finish some work then get to bed before the power goes out, river blindness sets in and my taxi drivers storm the house demanding their obruni discount realizing that I only speak the same 20 sentences of Twi. More updates this weekend.

In Many Ways, A Return

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 21:46:00 +0000

After a rather long--at least for me--hiatus from field research, I am returning to Ghana for January 2012. In the future I will upgrade this website, maybe merge it with my academic site, maybe publish some papers to make my academic site an academic site and hopefully finish my PhD at a reasonable age.

In any case, I will still be taking photos. Look, here's my trusty Kelty backpack that has accompanied me on every trip to Ghana.

It even still has the orange stains from the trip to Mole. For those of you keeping score, I have a new lens, a 50 f/1.4. I'm very excited to get more practice on it.

While the lens may be new and other equipment has been updated, my research is actually coming back full circle to where I started. Bureaucracy.

I know that you're holding yourself back with excitement, that you can't wait to hear it again. Bureaucracy. Okay, maybe it's just me. But for me it's an exciting, understudied area of comparative politics, an area that really can make a difference in people's lives and not just in journal pages.

I believe that politics and government are two different things. Politics you see in the papers, hear on the radio; it's measured with vote counts, with speeches, with campaigns. We may not know our local politicians, but we each have our own definition of what a politician is. As one friend told me, politics comes from the Greek, "poli" for "many", with "tics" from the English for "blood-sucking animals."

QED.

Jokes aside, I do think that many people do enter democratic politics with a desire to change things for the better. Many do, of course, enter to enrich themselves. But I think somewhere in there there must be even a slight tendency toward positive change.

If that's politics, government is everywhere. But it's so everywhere that you might not notice it. It's the pothole that gets fixed. It's that stamp in your passport. It's the teacher in the school.

It's also the lack of all those things, whether across the board or just in certain places. Why is it, that when the policy is 'improve education', we get an additional teacher, rather than innovative teaching methods? Or that improve transport means 'build more roads' rather than 'fix existing roads'? I think that answer is somewhere in between the politicians and the bureaucrats, and I want to find out how we get there. And how we get there will matter for policy makers, aid workers and the private sector.

So that's why I'm here. Actually, I'm here to pilot surveys and then hopefully launch something bigger later this year or next year. But it's exciting times in Ghana. Election is coming up, and already the radios are buzzing with the parties speculating about fraud. There are more ads at the airport. Two different people today have pointed out that a KFC is open in Accra. There are more hotels. So things are different, and I'm excited to see how the country has changed in the year that I've been away.

But some things don't change. People, for instance. This afternoon I did some grocery shopping at the Accra Mall. I hailed one of the outrageously priced taxis from the mall (I justify this by the fact that it's my first day back and I just want to get back to the apartment), and start getting into it. At that point, I detect another cab driver sprinting towards me, yelling something ...

Me (mentally): Seriously, man, I already got a cab.

Him: Hey hey hey hey! I know you!

Me [slightly recognizing this voice]: Wh-What?

Him [extending his hand for the Ghanaian handshake]: It's me, Prince! You're Joe! It's good to see you again, my friend.

Indeed, it was Prince, my go-to driver in projects past, Prince the King of drivers. If any of you need a good taxi driver, just let me know. He has a great car--which basically means three things: (1) there are seat belts in the back, (2) the windows roll down and (3) you can't smell the enging fumes. First day back, and I run into him. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

test

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 06:15:00 +0000

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Taxi Drivers

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 19:14:00 +0000

Can be very interesting people. I'm sure you won't often find a cab driver without some kind of story to tell or experience to share--with all those people he or she sees in a day, there are bound to be some great conversations.

Ghanaian taxi drivers are no different. Over these past couple years I've been regaled with drivers' stories and opinions on many issues: Ghanaian politics, Barack Obama, whether it is just to hit a street hawker with your car (and the economic implications), China in Africa, taxation, whether Chelsea is better than Manchester United, what qualities--loosely interpreted--one should look for in a wife. And so forth. Some conversations can be difficult as their English might not be up to snuff, but listening is nonetheless entertaining.

Conversations always start the same way:

Driver: So where are you from?

Me: The US.

Driver: [after a few moments' silence] But you look ... so ... what is it ... uhh ... like a Korean?

Me: Oh, my family is from Asia. But I am from the US.

Driver: [more silence, eyeing me carefully] Are you quite sure?

Me: More or less.

Today's cab drivers happened to be entrepreneurs. That's another thing about taxis in Ghana: drivers often drive as a second, even third, job. My driver in the morning was saving money to start his own business. He wants to sell neckties. Something that often comes up in conversations with drivers is how safe, peaceful, stable Ghana is. For him, this meant opportunity--an opportunity to have his own business and send his kids to a good school. Driving a cab was how he would save for this enterprise. Enterprise. A very good word because that's what most 'businesses' are called here: enterprises. Indicative of a can-do, creative spirit. For this driver, this enterprise was being saved for day-by-day, one pesewa at a time towards a goal of three thousand cedis. He hopes to have enough saved within a year, at which point he'll sell his car and start selling his neckties.

My second driver today after our typical "you're-from-the-US-but-you-look-so-uhhh-Korean" (are you quite sure?) icebreaker informed me that when he was not driving he worked for the World Bank and drove Americans around all the time. He told me he loved working for the Bank--unlike working for a typical large Ghanaian firm, he felt that he was treated with more respect. For those who have not been here, a lot of firms operate very hierarchically--lots of bringing coffee, "yes, sir; no, sir", etc. with little respect. But he loved meeting people from various Bank countries, learning more about foreigners. He even knew a lot about the institution's substantive work, and we talked for a while about that and what it meant for Ghana. For him, driving a cab provided a nice second income, but I think he truly cherished the opportunity to meet new people.

I've often said that tro-tros provide a great way to learn about Ghanaian society and meet interesting people, but the same is true for Ghanaian taxis. You never really know what will come out in conversation, whether the driver will be passive or aggressive, whether his opinions will strongly conflict with your own. Once in a while, you will have a gem of a conversation that's worth remembering. It's all a learning experience. And, yes, I am quite sure.

Wli Falls and Mt Afadjato, Volta Region, Ghana

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 15:52:00 +0000

Top of Wli Falls, Agumatsa National Park, Volta. Note the bats hanging out on the rocks. All photos in this post taken with a Nikon D60 with 55-200mm lens.

Last weekend, my colleague and I finally made our way out of the stifling heat of bustling Accra to the stifling heat of admittedly greener and more beautiful Volta Region, specifically the Northern part surrounding Hohoe. Now the pronunciation of Hohoe, the second largest settlement in Volta, has always given me trouble, but I think in our travels there, we have settled on a bimodal outcome: ho-HOY and ho-HO-way. You be the judge.

From Accra, we took a tro-tro from Madina Old Road, just north of the city, direct to Hohoe. As often is the case, we got there as the last Hohoe tro-tro was looking for one more person before it could go--and we were two. I feel that this eternal conundrum could be modelled with a clever probability distribution. WAWA = West African Wins Again. Alas, we waited only half an hour and the second tro-tro arrived. The ride to Hohoe was surprisingly quick, only about 3.5 hours, though much of that can be attributed to our driver's lead foot, though he was surprisingly adept at slalom maneuvers to avoid potholes that I think he left Lindsey Vonn and half our breakfasts in the tro-tros gathering wake of red dust. Skirting safety aside, our tro-tro also included a rather boisterous young man who insisted that the fare (GHC 6.5) was too high. This young man then got a lesson in social capital as he was almost pulled out of the tro-tro from the back window by fellow (unionized) drivers who rushed over, seeing the commotion. Apparently, they prevailed upon him to pay up.

The 'road' to Wli Falls.

Hohoe was rather underwhelming, despite the fervent recommendations of the Bradt Guide. For one thing, we arrived during the middle of what must have been six funerals, and there wasn't an available hotel room in any of the places we checked. Even the mangers were occupied. We eventually found one questionably-ventilated closet of a room for about GHC10 that had running (away from you) water and two TV channels that played screaming Nigerian movies and silent Mexican soap operas. Best of both worlds. In future, I would recommend staying at Ho, the regional capital, as it is a bigger, more exciting city with a wider range of accommodations.

One of the nine bridges on the way to Wli Falls.

In Hohoe, we met our gallant cab driver, X.zibit, who ferried us around on Saturday (to the falls) and Sunday (to the mountain). I know what you're thinking: wait, did Joe just say the cab driver was named 'X.zibit'? Yes. And, no, he did not come out of a T-Pain music video. His cab is very easy to spot in Hohoe, as it says his name right across the back window. In any case, he was a great cab driver, having driven many obrunis to these attractions, and he regaled us with stories of his girlfriend who lives in the US. And he blasted Ghanaian rap most of the time, featuring Sarkodie and 4x4. Good stuff.

Wli Falls. Note the people at the bottom.

The falls were incredible. They are about a 30-minute drive from Hohoe and a 45-minute walk through the forest, a walk that takes you over nine river crossings (the bridges were still there when we did it). There are two hikes: one to the top of the falls, and one to the wading pool at the bottom, and we did the latter, which was very easy and enjoyable. As you can see from the photo above, you can even wade in the pool, but I chose not to due to risk of bilharzia (not sure if it's there, but why risk it). Another cool feature of the falls were the bats that clung to the rocks surrounding the falls. As it got turns late afternoon, the bats started to rouse and swirl overhead. Very cool sight. Overall, a refreshing afternoon (the mist feels so amazing in the heat), and a place I would highly recommend for a picnic and some lazy reading.

Sunrise in Hohoe.

After a cozy night of sleep in our charmingly sweaty hotel room with its two TV channels, we set off the following morning for Afadjato, which is billed as the tallest mountain in West Africa. Now, there are a couple of things that require clarification. First, it's not really a 'mountain', and objectively speaking it's not that high or impressive. Second, it actually feels much much much higher when the trail goes straight up the mountain rather than being a switchback trail, and you bring a heavy backpack, inside of which is a large bottle of water and a fairly heavy camera, not to mention things like a first-aid kit. Not that I'm talking from experience. (You should still take that stuff, especially a first-aid kit, though maybe opt for lighter equipment ...).

Mt Afadjato.

The views from the mountain are quite incredible, and on a clear day one can see all the way to the Volta Lake. Apparently there are also a lot of bird-watching opportunities on this mountain, but we did not see too many birds--or, at least, I was too busy keeping the sweat out of my eyes to notice. If you can, it might be a good idea to climb Afadjato in the morning (about an hour up and an hour down), then hike to Wli in the afternoon for a refreshing dip. That might be a more fun afternoon than climbing into a cramped tro-tro for the four-hour ride back to Accra when you might be the worst smelling people on there. Again, not that we're talking from experience.

View from Afadjato towards Volta Lake.

This coming weekend I'm off to Kumasi to visit friends, and then the following weekend I'll be off to Mole National Park. Expect plenty of safari-style photos of wild animals. The following weekend I may venture to the Nzulezo stilt village in Western Region. Should be amazing.

"In Ghana, you must know somewhere to get somewhere."

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 16:53:00 +0000

This past Saturday I attended a benefit concert in Accra to help the earthquake victims in Haiti. A lot of major Ghanaian artists performed: Bertha, Sandra, Kwabena Kwabena and some older artists who did lots of old-school highlife music. It was fun, and there were definitely some Ghanaian takes on American contemporary and jazz standards.

However, the best part of the show, in my opinion, was the Ghanaian comedian, Kwaku Sintim-Misa, affectionately called, "KSM". Not being fluent in Twi, I was rather skeptical of how this routine was going to go, but it turned out to be basically spot on with what I encounter on a daily basis.

I. ONLY IN GHANA: ASKING FOR DIRECTIONS

KSM enlightened us with a story of a hapless British woman, stranded at the Labadi Beach Resort, one of Accra's premier resorts, attempting to get to the National Theatre, which is in the centre of town.

British woman, to Labadi street hawker: "Excuse me, but how do I get to the National Theatre."

Hawker: "Where do you want to go?"

Brit: "To the National Theatre."

As KSM points out, only in Ghana does the questioned turn the question on you.

Hawker: "Oh, National Theatre. Do you know the British Council Hall?"

Brit: "No, I want to go to the National Theatre."

Hawker: "Yes, it is by the British Council Hall."

Brit: "Okay, how do I get there?"

Hawker: "Do you know the Cedi House?"

You can see the pattern. But we're not through yet.

Brit: "NO I WANT THE NATIONAL THEATRE."

Hawker: [seeing his friend] "Oh, okay, hold on. Kwesi! Kwesi!"

Kwesi: [running over] "Yes, chalay chalay. [friend]"

Hawker: "[in Twi] This obruni wants the National Theatre."

Kwesi [turning to obruni, in English]: "Okay, do you know the British Council hall?"

[curtain]

This basically happens to me on a daily basis--as in three hours ago.

Me [in the sweltering 95 degree, midday heat]: [to passerby] "How do I get to the Ministry of Information?"

Passerby: "Do you know the Tigo office? [major mobile carrier]"

Me: "No."

Passerby: "Okay, just go up this road, and ask someone else. They will know."

Me: "Uhh, thanks."

Oh, Ghana.

II. ONLY IN GHANA: NEVER IN THE COURSE OF HUMAN HISTORY HAVE SO FEW, WITH SO LITTLE TO SAY, SAID SO MUCH, TO SO MANY [subtitle inspired by Sir Winston and this poster]

One of the best things about Ghana is that the country has an incredibly lively media. So many papers to keep the politicians on their toes, so many radio stations in English and all sorts of local language to spread the news, debate politics and so forth. And the Internet, particularly sites like Facebook, is becoming huge here. Just last week on the radio waves was a debate about a particularly fiery speech in Parliament, in which an MP accused Ministers on the Ghana Cup of African Nations to Angola of bringing 25-year old girlfriends (as she called them, "handbags") on state funds. Following the debate, several MPs called in to the stations lambasting her statements. Not to be outdone, the accusing MP herself called in to reassert her position! Entertainment at its finest.

Unfortunately, KSM points out that one problem with all this radio is that, "Only in Ghana, do people call in to the radio stations and contribute so much trash, with so much vigor."

Radio host: "Hello, you're on the air."

Caller: [much static] "Hello? Hello?"

Host: "Yes, you're on the air. Turn down your radio."

Caller: "Ah, ah, meda ase [thank you]. I would like to contribute."

Host: "Yes, go ahead."

Caller: "[...] What are you talking about?"

[curtain]

III. ONLY IN GHANA: WHICH ETHNIC GROUP WILL GIVE ST PETER THE HARDEST TIME AT THE PEARLY GATES

Ethnicity is one of those tricky issues here in Ghana. Back in the 70s and 80s, during the military dictatorships, ethnicity was a fiery issues, with violent clashes and government favors for certain groups (though, ironically, one government did try to ensure ethnic balance in its Cabinet...). It is still a salient issue in the North with the various chieftaincy disputes, but it sometimes flares up in the South when there is a chieftaincy dispute here.

But, having noticed this during my thesis research two years ago (really, it's been that long?), Ghanaians are surprisingly open about their ethnicity, unlike next-door Cote d'Ivoire, where people are fighting to prove they are Ivorian so that they can vote in the supposedly upcoming elections.

But Ghanaians can joke about these things, which is refreshing, and it appears each ethnic group has its endearing quirks. For the Fantes, located in Western Region by the coast near Takoradi and towards Elmina in Central Region, they are non-confrontational. As KSM claims, when St Peter tells a Fante man to go to hell, hewill reply, "Okay, okay, sure." Now the Akuapems, from Eastern Region, are hard bargainers, apparently. When St Peter tells an Akuapem that he will go to hell, the Akuapem replies, "Now hold on a second. Let's look closely at my record." However, it is the Ga man (from around Greater Accra) who will give St Peter the hardest time. Upon being told to go to hell, the Ga man will respond, "Let me have a word with your boss. Yes, Jesus."

Admittedly I was a bit concerned when KSM launched into the ethnic jokes, and he did noticeably leave out Northern groups. But the house loved it--all the Fantes cheered when he targeted the Fantes, all the Gas cheered when he made fun of the Gas, and so forth. The groups cheered together, stood and obviously showed their group pride, but I didn't detect any animosity (of course, this was also a much younger crowd, probably mostly in their 20s and 30s). It's ethnicity--everyone knows it's there. Of course there will be political and economic challenges that will test that equilibrium, namely the oil revenues, but currently I think the situation is moving in the right direction. And you can thank the radio and its crazy callers for helping it move in that direction.

Will Ghana get there? To be determined. Because sometimes you can get somewhere without knowing somewhere.

Me [happening uponTigo office, to passerby]: "Afternoon, do you know the Ministry of Information?"

Passerby: "Yes, turn left here, and look for the signboard."

[curtain]

quick update

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 20:11:00 +0000

Apologies for not blogging these past few weeks--I've been very busy with my new research project in Accra. I've been back in Ghana for about two weeks, but I'll definitely post about Cote d'Ivoire later this week, and then hopefully get back to more regular Ghana posting.

I don't currently have much time to write about recent Ghana news events, but the creation of a Constitutional Review Commission a couple weeks ago has generated a stir around Accra. Basically, the Commission will be re-evaluating the 1992 Constitution, a process that they promise will include the viewpoints of ordinary Ghanaians. Even the cab drivers have been giving me their two cents on Parliamentary oversight of the executive. More on this later.

Cote d'Ivoire

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 18:46:00 +0000

I am currently safe and sound in Accra, but will be travelling to Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire early tomorrow morning. I may or may not have reliable Internet access, but I'll be sure to post updates and photos as soon as I can!

Also, the harmattan (desert winds from the Sahara) is blowing through Accra right now. Lots of haze in the sky and towards late afternoon the sun shines a pinkish red through the haze. Very dry and dusty.

Maximum warp. Punch it.

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 03:07:00 +0000

Leaving for the airport in 5.5 hours. See you in West Africa.

[In case you don't know the origin of this post's title, this video will explain. Note to readers receiving my posts by e-mail: sometimes the videos don't go through via email.]

Whisper to their souls to go

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 06:15:00 +0000

This Saturday I'll be off again to West Africa, arriving in Accra on Sunday and then in Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire by Tuesday. That's right, my research will be taking me to a new country, just west of Ghana, and I'm certainly excited by the prospect of seeing if the money I spent on the first two levels of Rosetta Stone French will actually pay off. (I'm also excited to see a new country.) I should be in Abidjan for 2-3 weeks, and then I'll be back to Ghana until mid-April working on another research project.

Of course, a new tour of Africa necessitates new gear--my more astute readers will note that this post comes right after the post-holidays sales...

First, Rosetta Stone, to enable me to communicate/ask where the bathroom is in French while in Cote d'Ivoire. RS is a clever program. It comes with speech recognition and all sorts of fancy pictures to aid one in learning a language. So clever, in fact, that I am convinced that the software is pre-programmed to identify which syllables in French will be most difficult for me to pronounce; ironically, many of these are true cognates, on which I shall elaborate below.

Nonetheless, RS is not entirely fool-proof, and I have found some gaps in their translations.

For example:

Les eleves d'ecole primaire aiment les sciences. = [look for the Asian kids]

Ce temps est le pire. = The weather is really bad. [look for the flying cows from Twister.]

Il joue du piano le mieux. = [look for the Asian kid]

Some exercises are less obvious, such as those that show you a picture and have you speak the caption. This exercise is hard in that the possibilities for the caption (as with New Yorker cartoons) are endless:

[Photo: Man eating alone at restaurant]

Me: "Uhhhh, l'homme dine a la restaurant ... ?"

[minor third chimes indicating incorrect answer]

Me: "Uhhhhh, l'homm--"

[minor third]

Me: "What the ..."

Answer that flashes on screen: "La femme est en retard." [The woman is late.]

Seriously? Wow.

Most of the time my microphone picks up what I say and it registers it correctly on the screen. There are however some glaring deficiencies--partly my own, but in my opinion partly the software's--with certain (mono-)syllables of the French language. Primarily,

bleu = blue
voiture = car
chaussure = shoe
d'Australie = from Australia
professeur = professor

For some reason, I often can't hit the right frequencies for these words. And this is where one gets ... Rosetta Stoned.

Speaking exercise, you will here three sample sentences. Please repeat the final sentence:

(1) La fille veut un chat. [The girl wants a cat.]

(2) Le garcon chante bien. [The boy sings well.]

(3, my turn) Le professeur d'Australie veut acheter une nouveau voiture bleu. Il ne porte pas des chaussures. (non sequitir? you get the point) The Australian professor wants to buy a new blue car. He does not wear shoes.

It feels something like this:

In actuality, RS has been great for teaching me French in the past six weeks, and I would recommend it. Especially with all those hidden gems.

I'm currently in packing mode right now. Much of today was spent figuring out how to re-treat my mosquito net with permethrin. I thought that would be a simple task. But, no, those instructions are remarkably difficult to find online. All these formulas you have to abide by ... and they don't really sell permethrin at high concentrations in individual-sized amounts. I mean, if it's that hard for me to figure out how to re-treat a net, then what's it like for the people in Africa who need it day in and day out? I ended up concocting a watered-down version with Sawyer's Permethrin solution for clothing, which has left my garage with hints of toxicity. Apparently it's also highly toxic to cats, and since none of my neighbors' cats have died on my lawn (yet), I think we'll be fine. Will it work in Africa? Perhaps, at least for a little while, right?

Je ne sais pas.

Give Me a Break

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 04:28:00 +0000

Fairtrade British Kit Kat. Image sourced from this Guardian article.

Apologies for the lack of posts over this past month--I spent much of November travelling up the East Coast visiting friends and family and basically just relaxing after five months in the field. It was good. However, I intend to get back to reporting on Ghana and fair trade now. Though, as I told someone earlier today, my blog should now be called "Out of West Florida", though that's not quite as exciting as "Out of West Africa." So it goes.

On Monday, approximately 23482301283.21 of my friends alerted me to the fact that Nestle was switching its line of British Kit Kats to Fairtrade. You know who you are. This barrage of e-mails--many of which arrived before I woke up that morning--has led me to believe that my friends now think of me whenever they see fair-trade or organically certified chocolate. Excellent. I, for one, cannot walk through a Whole Foods or a Wal-Mart (that covers the whole spectrum of grocery choice, right?) without nosing through the chocolate section, perusing the various organic, fairtrade, rainforest-friendly, we-love-the-insert-cause-here lines of chocolates. But I digress.

This is exciting news, nonetheless. In case you don't believe me, look at all these outlets covering the story:

The Guardian

Times of London

BBC News

Wall Street Journal

Nestle sources much of its chocolate from Cote d'Ivoire, a country to which I will be travelling in January. Cote d'Ivoire's cocoa system is set up quite differently from Ghana's, and the country's political situation is a bit more fractious--as a result, the cooperatives formed from this fairtrade switchover could have significant implications for democracy in Cote d'Ivoire. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Update: Please see comments below for Mike Brady's perspective on Nestle's fairtrade Kit Kat announcement.

Bring Me That Horizon

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 00:09:00 +0000

In just under 24 hours I will be rocketing away from Ghana, northwards to Amsterdam, westwards to the US, finally to home. Right now, I am trying to think how this research tour, my second in Ghana, differs from the first. At the outset of this tour, I felt more assured, more at ease with the daily inconveniences that come with this kind of work; consequently, I think I saw more.

Ironically, though, I saw more problems, more hardships here in Ghana, than I did the first time around. Part of that lies in the fact that this project has been far more rural than my previous one, but I think it more lies in the fact that I've been able to think more from a Ghanaian perspective. Though even that latter statement is erroneous: from an academic standpoint, is the Ghanaian perspective any different from how a rational, economically minded person would think?

I've worked very closely with bureaucrats of various ranks during this project. Why is it that some bureaucrats work so hard when there is no realistic chance of them getting promoted any time soon? Why does no one rebel against the culture of the "big man at the top" and the formalities that that entails? Where does all this government provision of public goods unravel?

Recently, a Ghana news agency reported on Cabinet ministers taking tro-tros around Accra to really relate to the transport problems that Ghanaians face. For one minister, this was the first time she had been in a tro-tro since 1992. I've probably been on more than 150 of these in the past five months. On camera, she pushed and shoved her way like everyone else into this vehicle; from inside, she lamented the cramped conditions, the lack of safety regulations. (I also wondered how they got the full news team in there, but I digress.) Another minister lasted about 17 minutes on a tro-tro before returning to his air-conditioned, carpeted office to hydrate and douse himself thoroughly with bottled water, gratefully rejoicing in the fact that he owned a private car to take him around. Seriously.

Also on the news, a large fire broke out in a tro-tro station at one of Ghana's main cities a couple weeks ago. This was a historical station and the tro-tro union's headquarters at that station was completely destroyed, wiping away decades of paper records, decades of history. The fire service was called immediately; they malingered, allowing a precious hour or so to pass before arriving. But their hoses stayed off: the electricity company hadn't turned off the power supply to the burning station, putting the fire fighters at risk of electrocution. (Is this actually a risk? I saw a similar thing on MythBusters, and I believe they debunked this.) But Ghanaians are creative, creative to the point of absurdity: people fought this fire by throwing sachet water at it. The station was a complete loss.

Ghanaians work hard. Our interviewer teams in the field work hard despite blazing heat, no electricity, gastrointestinal duress, malaria. Our bureaucratic contacts work hard. But why does the system not work? Why is there still corruption? Why is there still aloofness?

That's not to say that there aren't success stories, that there isn't the potential for more. People are creative. They search. They find. They get by. Once I could not roll down the window in a scorching hot taxi because the handle was broken. The passenger next to me unscrewed the handle of his window turner, and handed it to me, allowing me to slowly turn the screw, laboriously lowering the window.

A non-opening window is a simple problem, but honestly how do you fix it without any real tools? And imagine if it were a power window. But the solution was simple, and from what I could tell fairly common knowledge. It didn't even (financially) cost anything. It's a problem-solving attitude I've seen in so many common Ghanaians; despite failures in government, despite economic hardship, they get by. They get by cheerfully. It's a shame that somewhere along the line things fall apart. How do you pinpoint this problem and change behaviors? I don't know. And I don't know if the mindsets and incentives of the current ones at the top can be changed at this point.

But I think there is hope of that. Ghana has come a long way. We need to study these behaviors and incentives rigorously, and we just might have the tools, the resources, the intellectual creativity to do that now. In the meantime, life will still go on. Ghanaians will face problems; they will solve them. People will not be daunted by stuck windows and broken systems. Even if slowly and arduously--they will let in that fresh air.

Harvard Magazine features student projects in Africa

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 20:02:00 +0000

This month's issue of Harvard Magazine features students from the College working on a wide variety of projects in Africa, including a documentary on mental-health care and policy reform in Ghana and the development of vertical agriculture (VertiGrow) in Kibera, Nairobi. Today's evening news here in Ghana actually debated the progress of the mental-health bill in Parliament.

As a political-scientist-in-training, I found the VertiGrow article quite intriguing, namely in that it falls under the question of, "do interventions actually work?", a question that remains to be answered. Surely my fellow Easterly fans will enjoy this key quote:

Nowak was never sure what she would find each day when she arrived at the designated construction sites for the planters in Kibera. But she says her approach of letting the residents take the lead resulted in a product that merges the undergraduates’ ideas with local preferences and customs in a way that something designed wholly in a Harvard classroom never could.

Local ownership is certainly a key part of improving development outcomes. More broadly, this technology may have numerous implications for slums across the developing world, and it will be interesting to see how economic incentives and results are shaped by this product. One thing that just came to mind: if declining returns to agriculture result in increased urbanization, then wouldn't it be ironic if vertical agriculture helped people get out of the slums and into more productive settings?

Always something new out of Africa.

The Field Researcher's Tale

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 22:20:00 +0000

Preface: A couple of BBC stories from this week I found interesting.

Former Ghanaian government minister, Elizabeth Ohene, writes on perceptions--modern and historical--of Chinese investment in Africa, noting specifically cases of infrastructure projects around Accra. The article also talks a bit about a China's relationship with Africa during the independence period, a relationship whose remnants (i.e. mass rally squares in all major towns, Soviet-style architecture, etc.) are still quite visible across Ghana. On the Accra roads she mentions, in my experience, the road west to Takoradi is probably the best road in Ghana, comparable to any major US highway, whereas the one going north to Kumasi requires nerves (and bowels) of steel. In any case, my bellwether for Ghanaian opinion on foreign investment will still be to see which flags are proudly displayed in tro-tros and taxis.

Apparently there's a new board game out on creating a United States of Africa. I wonder if it'll be anything like Monopoly?

~~

My normal day typically starts with me waking up around 6.15am--initially this was not by choice since as an undergrad I happily slept until 9am (better than a lot of my peers, actually), but in Ghana the work day kind of starts at 5am. The alarm clock is set for 6.15, but I have received calls from teams and contacts even earlier. Always fun when that happens.

Today's assignment: track down a team in Ashanti Region, meet up with them, take notes, bring back their completed questionnaires to Kumasi to start reviewing them, pass notes on to Accra and Cambridge. Actually, this is basically every day's assignment, just with different teams. I pride myself on my navigational abilities, so I've been quite successful in doing this with the five teams that are within three hours' tro-tro ride from Kumasi. False sense of security right there.

This morning, I could not get in touch with the team supervisor for about three hours, severely hindering my departure time. When I did finally reach him, I had a typical phone chat with him:

[loud background noise on his end, consisting of crying babies, goats, crying baby goats, screaming Pentecostal preachers, turbo diesel engine, overhead aircraft and Nigerian movie]

Me [practically screaming]: Hello?
[background noise]
Me: Hello?!

Supervisor: Hello?! [five second delay] Joe?

Me: Yes! [mentally skipping all greeting formalities and other chit-chat to cut straight to the point, hoping to overcome background noise] Where are you?!

Supervisor: I am fine, how are you?

Me: Uhhh, fine as well. I need to visit your team today, where are you?

Supervisor: Oh, we are in [garbled noise]

Me: What?

Supervisor: So we'll see you in a few hours?

[in the background Nigerian movie, a diesel-powered airplane has crashed into a sea of goats, prompting excessive infant crying]

Me: NO NO WHAT VILLAGE ARE YOU IN?!

Supervisor: Oh, Apenimadi.

Me: Okay, which junction do I turn at?

Supervisor: Go on the Bibiani road.

Me: Then what?

Supervisor: Alight at [garbled noise], you will find a car to hire there.

Me: Wait, say that again.

Supervisor: [garbled noise.]

Me: Argh, once more.

Supervisor: Kwansinsin. It is spelled K-W-A-N-[garbled noise]-I-N-S-[garbled noise]-N.

Me: Uhhh, okay, I'll see you in a couple hours.

~~

This is where I check my Ghana road map, which is surprisingly good, to chart the course: tro-tro from Kumasi to Nkawie, transfer to another tro-tro to Kwansinsin, hire car to Apenimadi. Simple, right? Expected cost: 10 Ghana cedis.

A couple issues: why not take a tro-tro that goes all the way to Bibiani and alight on the way to Kwansinsin? Because that car will take much longer to fill; Nkawie, and most destinations closer to Kumasi, fill much faster. Other issue: my map reads "Kwanfinfi". No big deal, plenty of things in Ghana have multiple spellings. Or maybe it's like the Constitution where f's look like s's or something.

I leave Kumasi at 11am and make it to Nkawie at noon. Fifty-five pesewas. Piece of cake. Because these survey books I was picking up are heavy, I left the camera safely locked back in my room. Had I known what was about to transpire, I would have brought two cameras.

As I leave the first tro-tro, another one immediately pulls up behind it. I step up to the mate:

Me: Kwansinsin?

Mate: [looks puzzled]

Me: Kwansinsin?

Mate: Yes, yes, get in.

Normally this works; mates usually understand me. And I figured, this tro-tro is going in the right direction, Kwansinsin is like five miles away, I'll get there.

Except for the fact that the map was right. Kwanfinfi.

The tro-tro stops at a town called Mpatasie or something, all the passengers alight.

Last passenger, to me [in Twi]: Where are you going?

Me: Kwansinsin.

Passenger: Where?

Me: Kwansinsin.

Mate: Oh, this car is going back to Kumasi.

Me: WHAT?!

Passenger: I think he means Kwanfinfi.

Mate: Oh, we'll drop you at the junction and you'll find a car there.

Probabilistically, that is a worst-case scenario. Imagine being stuck, somehow, on the second floor of the Empire State Building and you need to get to a higher floor. Good luck finding an (local, not express) elevator going up that's not full. Well, that was me--a few miles after a main town, watching full tro-tro after full tro-tro pass me by. I waited almost an hour at that junction before finally a completely empty tro-tro pulled up.

Me: Are you going to Kwanfinfi?

Mate: No.

Me: But you're going in that direction?

Mate: Yes.

Yet another probabilistic decision: stay and hope for a tro-tro with a spot, or take my chances with moving on in the same direction? I decide on the daring.

I get dropped off three miles down the road, the tro-tro turns around for Kumasi and I am still not in Kwansinsin/Kwanfinfi. At this point I start to wonder if I am in Zeno's paradox of motion or something. I ask a village for Kwanfinfi--he points in the direction and says "two miles".

Okay, two miles. Despite the scorching heat, I can do two miles. Seven years as a Florida Boy Scout prepare you for times like this. An average person can walk that in like 40 minutes. Not bad.

So an hour and half later with about 1000 fewer calories I end up in Kwanfinfi. Not a bad hike actually as the countryside is really lush and beautiful, and I passed through about four towns with hordes of children wondering what this obruni was doing.

Now it's past 2pm. Time to get that car. And there is only one car--with eight people already sitting in it.

Driver, sensing economic opportunity: Where are you going?

Me: Apenimadi.

Driver: Dropping (chartering the cab)?

Me: Shared is fine.

Driver: None of them are going to Apenimadi. Twenty Ghana cedis.

Me, having paid five the last time I chartered a rural taxi: No way, that's too high.

Driver, who may never have taken an economics class, is still fully aware of his monopolistic bargaining position: It is far, the roads are bad, twenty cedis.

Well, I have no choice but to pay it (this is a round-trip fare). A few people get out of the car, but we still drive along with seven: the driver, me and another guy shotgun, four people in the back. The car is the most beat-up Toyota Tercel from the Carter Administration, lacks sideview mirrors, has cardboard patching up the doors, insides covered in a thin layer of dirt and diesel fumes leaked into the cabin, which luckily was well ventilated because 3/4 of the windows were gone.

The road was probably the second worst I'd been on in Ghana (Western Region was the worst); dirt, overgrown trees with branches that smack into the inside of the car, car bottoming out, criss-crossed planks that constitute "bridges", etc. This car actually had one of those orientation meters in its dash, and there were definitely quite a few rapid-fire 15 degree lists because of the numerous bumps and grooves in the road, which, had it been raining, would have easily required a four-wheel drive.

It took about an hour to get to Apenimadi in this car. Despite the rough road and toxic fumes, the view was incredible: we are driving towards a mountainous forest reserve that is renowned in Ghana, so the trees were getting taller and more majestic as we drove along. It was very quiet out there--only the sound of the car laboring along.

By now it is 3.30 and I am praying the team is still there. I get there about 10 minutes before they are about to leave. Whew. They are happy to see me, and I am equally happy to see them. The supervisor has one more task to complete, a water-toxicity test on the village water supply, and he invites me to accompany him down to the stream.

The stream is in the forest. We walk down a steep, rocky hill, surrounded by 50-foot-tall trees, lots of greenery, chirping birds. The trees own up into a small grotto, in the middle of which is a pool, less than a foot deep, about the size of a queen-sized bed, filled with the tiniest brook gushing from a rock. Aside from the occasional birds this is the only sounds. This is probably the most serene, peaceful place I have been in a long time. The taxi driver joins us, and he too stands there in awe for a few seconds. The supervisor gets to work--out comes the sterile plastic collection bag and he collects directly from the tiny gush. He tells me that the source is high up in the forested mountains and that this tiny stream cascades all the way down here underground through the rock formations.

With that, we pack up and pile into the car for the ride back. Eventually eight people get into this car, which turns into a very dusty ride. I took a shower before writing this post, and watched a nice layer of silt make its way down the drain. My pack is also quite dirt encrusted. All part of the work.

I guess we'll see how tomorrow goes. And I will never again leave behind that camera.

GHANA WIN U-20 WORLD CUP!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 20:58:00 +0000

Defeating Brazil on penalty kicks! An entire country is going wild with jubilation!

Sorry for lack of updates--research project has been consuming all of my time. Hopefully, I'll get some updates and pictures in this weekend.

Take Her to Sea

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 00:39:00 +0000

The time has come. Tomorrow (today?) at 6am, the baseline survey I've been working on for the past several months will officially launch, dispersing teams to various locations around the country. Basically I spent today practically equipping an army, counting out all sorts of supplies, allocating them amongst all our interviewers--it took 11 hours!

My Kelty backpack bills itself as the ideal 'day-and-a-half' pack. We're about to make it the 'week-and-a-half pack.' My itinerary will take me first to Western Region, around the Takoradi/Tarkwa area, then to Mpohor Wassa near Elmina, wrapping up with Assin Breku and Cape Coast in the Central Region. I'll return to Accra for a few days before visiting our teams in other regions. I'll be sure to take lots of pictures. This also means that I won't be updating my blog very regularly for the next few weeks.

Ghana in Oil Deal with CNOOC

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 21:13:00 +0000

allAfrica reports that the Ghana National Petroleum Corporation and the China National Offshore Oil Corporation have started a collaboration on offshore oil exploration. The article is a bit short on the details of what this collaboration would entail, but I am a bit concerned about this deal from a governance and transparency perspective, given China's oil dealings in other, less well governed African states. Though, to be fair, this is not a concern solely applicable to Chinese oil firms.

I get the feeling from this article that President Mills is attempting to soften the energy crisis by creating these domestic oil deals. Doing so for populist reasons would be bad; I doubt that Ghana yet has the institutional capacity to manage such windfall oil revenues well. Though I have noticed that many young Ghanaian graduates, who are suffering through a terrible job-hunting process, especially with public-sector hiring frozen, are looking into graduate programs in Norway, a country that did a fairly decent job managing its oil revenues. Hopefully they can bring back some lessons from there.

I'll look further into this deal over the next few days.

Happy 100th Birthday

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 21:09:00 +0000

To Dr Kwame Nkrumah, a leader of the struggle for independence and first president of Ghana. There's been a good bit of ceremony and celebration in Accra, and today was a national holiday.

Entertainment

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 14:17:00 +0000

So our new residence in Accra sits on a road that forms a T-junction with a busy thoroughfare, on which taxis frequently pass. This has led to my fellow RAs and I creating a new (soon-to-be-Olympic) sport:

Competitive long-distance taxi hailing. (CLDTH ... we are currently accepting nominations for better names/acronyms of this sport.)

Several months of field research in Ghana have led us to believe that taxi drivers have an innate sixth sense: obruni-radar, or obruni-dar, for short. Some days we'll walk out of the house, we'll hear a honk and out of seemingly nowhere a taxi will appear. Some people see things like this and ask 'why?'; we see things like this and ask 'why not make a really cool, pointlessly competitive game out of this?'.

How this game is played:

1.) All players must be walking on the road our house is on (the vertical part of the T-junction).

2.) Players attempt hailing taxis from the main road (the crossbar of the T). This is more difficult than one may think. There are trees at both corners of the intersection, so taxis only have visual/audio on potential hailers for a brief second, as they are speeding down the main road. This requires excellent timing and 'hailing-carrying distance' on the part of the hailer. Players who hail repeatedly when no taxi is in visual range are shunned and penalized heavily. No non-human aides, such as loudspeakers, metal whistles or those annoying football horns, allowed.

3.) Successful hailer wins and shamelessly celebrates. Distance from the T-junction is noted. Current record held by Noah--something like 60 meters.

But, wait, there's more. Bonuses:

1.) Nonchalance: Extra points for hailing with only one finger.

2.) Economy: Extra points for negotiating a lower than average price with the driver.

3.) Greed: Having multiple cabs stop with one hail.

4.) Nightvision: Winning this game at night. Obviously.

5.) Supremacy: All of the above.

This sport is still in its developmental stages, so I will keep you updated on new rules, forms of competition, etc.

President Kufour to speak at MIT

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 22:37:00 +0000

John Kufour, President of Ghana, 2001-2009. Chair of the African Union, 2007-2008. Image sourced from MIT link below.

Cambridge-based readers: MIT's Legatum Center for Development and Entrepreneurship will be hosting former Ghanaian President John Kufour on 21 Sep 2009. The title of his talk is, "Entrepreneurship, Government and Development in Africa."

The event is open free to the public. It'll be at 4pm in MIT's Building 34, Room 101, but seating is limited, so it's recommend you get there by 3.30.

Here's the link.

See you in South Africa

noreply@blogger.com (Joe) — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 19:10:00 +0000

Tonight Ghana became the first African team (aside from South Africa) to qualify for the 2010 World Cup, with a 2-0 victory over Sudan, featuring stunning strikes by Sulley Muntari and Michael Essien. Kumasi is relatively quiet actually, but I can only imagine what it's like in Accra right now.