I have a few things on my mind: Nbapoka

Excuse me, I have a few things on my mind.
My name is Nbapoka, but many people in Sapoor call me Chairwoman, or Ma.
I am the leader of Pupelum Women's Group, and I really love farming. I believe in hard work. God helps those who help themselves, you see?
I keep quite busy. I'm fetching water; 3rd time today.
I've been thinking about the rain lately, praying that it will fall. Praying that it will come at all.
I'm a Catholic, see my rosary? My husband still holds traditional beliefs, same with his first wife. But I keep praying that one day he'll also be a Catholic. I'm his third wife. The second wife died just a few years ago. I also take care of my granddaughter, and she cries whenever I put her down. My last born is 6 year and he is a good boy at school.
I woke up around 4:30 and soon I'll head to the market, once I've finished preparing lunch for the compound.
We don't have electricity, but the clinic not too far away does, so sometimes my son charges his phone there. The politicians say they will bring lights to our homes soon but I doubt it will happen. But next year is election year, so maybe this will be the time.
I really wish we could get a loan though. For farming. Maybe we could process Shea oil. I heard if you sell it abroad you can be rich. I am proud of our group. The women are serious, and now when we call a meeting, almost all of them attend. We sit under the tree and discuss challenges and ideas and when we need help, we can always get it. The women are good. Now, the men even say that we the women are more serious about farming than them, and now its easier for us to get land.
You see things are just okay. Mostly we are managing and doing our best. The small money we make from farming together can help when the kids cry out for pencils and school sandals.
In the lean season, sometimes we struggle. But we are okay, by God's grace. We know things will improve small small, and we are just doing our best day by day. If only the rains will come, I hope we can have a good harvest this year.
These are just a few of the things on my mind..

Class, Culture and Concepts of Community

As a Canadian working in Ghana, I am confronted with a lot of differences that I have to reconcile. One of the greatest mistakes I have seen myself, and others make, is to attribute a lot of these differences to culture. You hear of a woman being beaten in a village compound and say well, its cultural. You see people spend money as soon as they have it, with little tendency towards savings, and you think this is cultural. "In Canada, we…..", "but in Ghana, they….". This, I purport, is a very slippery slope, and also inaccurate in many cases.

I found myself saying these thing a lot, particularly the first year I was in Ghana living in Wamale, in the Northern Region of Ghana. It is easy to get into "we", "they" mentality as your mind struggles to make sense of things that are foreign, different, uncomfortable. In the beginning of living in a new culture, the differences are blaring- they jump out and you can't ignore them. I tried to take a stance of understanding; they are from a different culture, so a lot of what I do and believe will be different from them. It's okay to be different. But this not only emphasizes the "otherness" of the people and nation you are working in, but can also blind you to the complex, holistic nature of situation.

I can admit that I come from a middle/upper class family in Canada. We always had enough to get by, we were well educated, and had a comfortable lifestyle. When I come to Ghana, and live in a village with subsistence farmers, some people who are just scraping by, there will definitely be a lot of differences. In Canada, we all had cars; in Wamale, people are struggling for bicycles. In Canada, my cupboard was always full of biscuits, chips, cookies, fruit, vegetables, juice, milk. In Wamale, if you don't eat when everyone is eating, you'll be left behind and have to wait for tomorrow to be satisfied. Yes, there are cultural differences. But a lot of the differences I just mentioned are a result of differences in class, economic status, not culture. Perhaps I would have been better prepared for village life in Ghana had I spent time in "slums" in Canada...

I don't doubt that there are communities in Canada where people are barely getting by. Poverty looks different in Canada; surely. But having worked with some of the most disadvantaged children in Windsor, Ontario, I had my eyes opened; wow; there are Canadian families that can't afford soap or toothpaste!?! Many foreigners who come to Ghana are ignorant or blind to poverty in their own countries, so when they are confronted with poverty in Ghana it is seen as cultural. I purport that many (most?) foreigners living in Ghana are well educated, and at least middle class, in their home countries. Most who come to Ghana come to volunteer through a University program, or work in development (many with Masters degrees), or invest in business in Ghana (wealthy people from China). Let's not forget that merely getting to Ghana is a great expense (flight). I believe it would be hard for a very poor Canadian to find him or herself in Ghana.

As I've started working in more affluent, "developed" parts of Ghana, I have seen that there is wealth in Ghana! I have seen mansions and cars in Accra that I've never come face to face with in Toronto.

The other day, as I sat in a home in Accra, a group of people came to the door to talk to the father of the house. They sat down and discussed how they are starting a neighbourhood committee to address challenges in the community, namely; improving the roads and sewage system. He started by apologizing that he has never come to greet him before, and remarked that these days, we don't know our neighbours. Unless there is a problem we don't enter the homes of our neighbours. He vowed that from now on he would be a better neighbour and visit just to see how the family was doing. As I heard them talk, I thought wow; this could be Canada. Truthfully, I don't know or "care for" my neighbours in Canada. We are all busy doing our own things, leading our own lives, as we happen to coexist in the same geographical area. But I was part of "community" in other ways, beyond the physical neighbourhood, and I know that urban Ghanaians too have "communities", but they are likely not tied to neighbours based on physical proximity.

When I first came to Ghana one thing I loved about the culture was community. Everyone greets each other, knows each other, cares for each other. Everyone in the community is the mother/father of the children. In Wamale, I have never had any theft. Whereas in bigger cities, theft can seem inevitable. In a lot of villages, there is a strong sense of community; and even if someone does steal, within a matter of hours you will find out who did it. I have always loved the sense of community in Wamale, where everybody truly does know your name.

As I listened to these middle/upper class Ghanaians talk about the fact that they are now isolated from their neighbors, I smiled to myself thinking about the days I boasted of Ghana's community culture. I believe this difference is in fact more a result of class, and not culture. Yes, those in Accra are still Ghanaians and part of Ghanaian culture, but as a result of their jobs, education, and lifestyle, their sense of community is quite different from a rural village who is deeply intertwined, interconnected, and often times interdependent.

All this is not to say there are no cultural differences between Canada and Ghana; clearly there are. Nor is it to paint a simplified North versus South picture of Ghana. What I have seen is that villages in the south aren't entirely different from villages in the North, and that there are similarities that cut across cultures but may align along class difference. Further, it is not to say that there is a universal culture of poverty*; that all people who are poor have the same values or behaviours. I have merely noticed that many differences attributed to cultural clashes may in actual fact be class clashes.

Instead of painting Ghana as all beautiful, or totally different from Canada, I am striving to see people as people, continue to check my assumptions and biases, and live lovingly among people wherever I find myself in this complex intersection of culture and class.


**For more information on the culture of poverty, have a gander below.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Culture_of_poverty
http://www.ascd.org/publications/educational-leadership/apr08/vol65/num07/The-Myth-of-the-Culture-of-Poverty.aspx
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/18/us/18poverty.html
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=130701401

Chocolate covered licorice, and other frivolities

Hmmm.. Personal hypocrisies are hard to come to terms with, right?

I find myself torn sometimes..

I came to Ghana with EWB because I care about people who are poor, or merely subsisting with unfulfilled, untapped potential. I hope and trust that the actions EWB Canada staff are undertaking in Ghana and across Africa are impacting the rural poor in a positive, lasting way.

Great.

But I'm still a partaker of this consumer society. In a discussion with my colleagues about "the things we love and hate about Canada", I shared that what I hate about Canada is how materialistic I am when I am in Canada. Oh the thrill of shopping on boxing day!

At first I wanted to hate Canada for excessive materialistic, consumer drives and obsessions. But I have to face the fact that as much I as I am trying to live out my beliefs and values- I want to lead a simple life- I am not perfect and I get sucked into it all and I have no one to blame but myself.

My mom recently came to visit me in Ghana which was amazing. Apart from all the memories we made and great discussions we had, I enjoyed gifts from Canada; my favourite purse- how I've missed it! A curling iron! Maple syrup! Chocolate covered licorice!

After she left, after a week of beautiful hotels, sightseeing, and tourism in this country I've been calling home for the past few years, I am back to normal life. No more air conditioned rooms; back to the heat.


I sat there, sweating under the fan blowing hot air at me, eating off the melting pieces of chocolate covering the sweet, chewy red licorice and I thought to myself wow. What a world. What a life. What a challenge.

I had hoped that after knowing so many impoverished people, after living with people who literally have no money, after seeing sick person after sick person who do not seek medical attention…. I had hoped I would be different. I hoped to be some kind of saint. I remember after coming back from Ghana in 2008, I vowed I wouldn't buy new clothes unless I actually needed them, and if I had to they would be second hand. I vowed I would use my money to support others and invest in transformation, not selfish, pride- driven indulgences. I wanted to become a type of modern day Mother Theresa; one who is selfless and sees the world for what it really is… merely a place filled with opportunities to exude love.

And yet I find myself still wanting to buy unnecessary things. The fact that we have a term "disposable income" is so telling of the middle and upper class reality. We have more than enough, more than we need for ourselves, and we dispose of it.. This is not an attack on anyone person or any one group, or a tactic to solicit guilt; this is more of an attack on myself, and a shared reflection on my personal shortcomings to live the life I want to and know I need to.

I believe that there is enough food and opportunity on earth for everyone, and that with an increase of compassion and love the world can and will be transformed (beware; idealism!). When I take off my "more, more, more!, me, me, me!" glasses and put on my "empathize! Love!" glasses I see that money spent on chocolate covered licorice and other frivolities could be better spent to invest in opportunities and people that will cumulatively become change and transformation.

Sincerely yours, with love, from recovering consumerist and aspiring revolutionary.

Development Work; A Wild Ride

I have been working with EWB Canada in Ghana, partnered with the Ministry of Food and Agriculture (MoFA) since August 2009.. A short while, compared to some, but when I look back on the past 20 months, it's been quite the ride.

People ask me what I do, and I still hesitate and take a deep breath before trying to explain. Being a "Development Worker" is not as easy to explain as a teacher, a lawyer, an engineer, a nurse. Maybe because we (are privileged to) have less first hand experience with "Development Workers" in Canada. It seems to be an elusive job to many, and when I look back its hard for me to concisely articulate what I've been doing onto a compelling CV… it seems like I've had 3 or 4 different jobs.

As I looked through random childhood pictures from my mom, I fell upon a picture of me on a rocking horse (don't I look happy?) and it struck me that much of what I'm doing in development can be compared riding a horse..

It can be a lot of fun. But it can also be pretty scary. Sometimes you fall down, and if you're like me; you cry. But hopefully you get back up again. I think about "successes and failures" in the past 20 months and can confidently say I've been on a rocky journey.

Sometimes I've felt in control of the horse I was riding; like I knew where I was going and how to get there. Working as Human Resources Director for EWB in Ghana has been like that, at times. I've gotten used to training new staff, to organizing retreats and team meetings and am feeling like I finally have the hang of it. This is fun. I can do this.

But other times, you're riding this horse and no matter what you do, nothing seems to be working. You're kicking the horse with your heel for it to stop, please let it stop; I've had enough, but you find you are still moving. You are pulling the reins back, the pace is too much to bear and you feel if you don't slow down you might have to jump off. A difficult part of my job is the goodbyes. In this work, there is incredibly high turnover, and yet a strong family culture. Staff can be here for just 3 months, a year, 2 years… at almost every point new staff are being integrated and old staff are departing.. In the past 20 mths I have said goodbye to over 30 (incredible) staff. This is hard.

Most of our staff, thankfully, leave Ghana but don't get off the development horse, per se; they continue this type of work somewhere else, still contributing to creating positive change. But many others in development can't take the turbulent path. They overdose on cynicism and pessimism. They can be frustrated for different reasons; the horse is just moving too slow, the pace of change is far too slow and too frustrating; does this horse even want to move? Are we standing still? If this horse doesn't want to move, I'll get off and ride a different one; one that is more willing and ready to move. Others ride so long, so far, continue to jump hurdle after hurdle after hurdle until they realize they are out of steam and can't take the pressure any longer. They give up riding the horse and move to something more stable, less demanding, more predictable.

Truly I look back and see that at times I really was running; working in MoFA's Agricultural Colleges has been a great source of motivation for me, and I feel great about how far we've come with promoting Entrepreneurship and equipping the youth for greater success post graduation- though I still smile more as I face forward, where we are going, than where we have come from.

Other times I look back and I was just trotting, maybe even trotting in circles, finding myself back where I started from. Working in a MoFA district office, trying to institutionalize the Agriculture As A Business Program was trying- and after so much effort, the field staff still ended up being pulled in far too many directions for the program to impact farmers in the way I hoped for; they were pulled by projects and in directions with more incentives than ours. The pace of change was frustrating. Maybe that’s why I was so happy to jump on the College horse, of course its to be expected that the younger, more motivated people will be easier to work with and create change through. And I get more energy trotting down the "invest in the youth" path.

In development, I've also seen that sometimes its hard to teach old dogs, or old horses, new tricks; maybe it’s a special gift that some people have, or particular types of tricks. Maybe we have to keep pressing on to work on some of those bigger, deeper challenges. Maybe we can't always hop off when things are difficult and every other avenue looks more expedient. Maybe we don't always see accurately all that is left in our wakes. Or we don't take the time to look back before planning the way forward.

My overall feeling is that I'm still happy to be riding the horse; I'm still looking forward, and though I can't see very far ahead, with what I can see I am excited, and with what we've already overcome, I am assured that every success and failure ahead is a necessary part of this journey.

Social Entrepreneurship: "the last thing a fish would ever notice would be water"

Last week I was blessed to be back at Kwadaso Agricultural College. My work with the colleges, with youth and entrepreneurship, continues to be a great source of motivation and inspiration for me so I decided to share another glimpse into my day to day life.

I have spoken previously about the fact that I am not a teacher in the colleges, but more of a consultant. I aim to collaborate with existing staff, co-develop and co-implement interventions that are important and have lasting effects beyond my immediate presence. My focus has primarily been on an Agribusiness and Entrepreneurship Project, but for the sake of this post I'll entertain a side interest; Social Entrepreneurship and building of pro-poor agriculturalists.

This semester we have started working with a new group of students; mature Extension staff, with a minimum of 5 years field experience who have come to upgrade their education. They are quite different from the other students and it is always refreshing to visit them, and discuss issues of extension and farmer behaviour change. The last time I was here, about a month ago, I mentioned in passing "Social Entrepreneurship" only to receive a wall of 50+ blank stares. I then repeated it again; maybe I was speaking too fast. Still nothing. After a brief explanation, they were very intrigued to learn more, and the lecturer himself was curious; so we agreed to do something I don't often do; I would come back to facilitate a guest lecture on Social Entrepreneurship.

I agreed with reluctance, not because I don't love teaching; because I am hesitant to merely fill temporary gaps. I am more motivated by building Ghanaian capacity to create change. Nevertheless, knowing that the students were equally as passionate as I, and that the lecturer was not in a position to learn and teach this topic before the close of the semester, I agreed I would come back to facilitate a discussion on Social Entrepreneurship..

Am I ever glad I did. The discussion was incredibly interesting; we didn't want to leave the classroom. I find it hard to summarize the main highlights of the discussion, but needless to say the extension staff were engaged and intrigued. I will briefly quote that: A social entrepreneur is a person with innovative solutions to society’s most pressing social problems. If there is one thing I believe deeply, it is that Ghana needs social entrepreneurs. Across Ghana I see people who are very rich, and people who are very poor.

Interestingly, I don't often see a lot of agriculturally driven youth who I would define as "pro poor" in their innovations. Many student projects are centered around making profit, which surely is important- we need job creators, not job seekers. But I began asking myself; why is Ghana defined by immeasurable numbers of foreign NGO's, short term volunteers, and Development Partners… why aren't there more Ghanaian change agents?

In speaking with this group, asking about challenges they see in Ghana, not one mentioned poverty; the very reason I came to Ghana. Another phenomenon I've seen is a level of "Ghanaian blindness" to poverty. Suddenly this proverb came to me: "The last thing a fish would ever notice would be water" -Ralph Linton. After sharing with the class, I delicately pointed out that I found it interesting that none of them mentioned the fact that Ghana is an impoverished country and that many, many farmers are suffering. We explored that social entrepreneurs do not wait passively when the public and private sectors are failing to address social problems; they take initiative to create systemic changes.

Through the course of the discussion we also explored the skills needed to be an effective social entrepreneur, the important role in society (and especially developing countries) of social entrepreneurs, opportunities and success stories within agriculture, and finally each person reflected on what is holding them back from being a social entrepreneur.

After reading through the Ashoka website in the recent past, I continue to be inspired by the concept of "everyone a change maker". Diana Wells, President of Ashoka states, “Aligned with Ashoka’s vision of forming an Everyone a Changemaker ™ world, this partnership underscores that the most important change must be to empower humans from passive recipients of solutions to initiators and champions of innovation in the social sector. I am confident that the people in that room are well positioned to create meaningful changes for and with farmers as they graduate and re-enter the workforce. This is my hope for them.

Our discussion also included how change agents understand their spheres of influence and spheres of control, and take action.. I believe that becoming "a change agent" is a process, and does not take place over night or as a result of 1 lecture; but maybe it starts somewhere with a mindset shift; a renewed awareness that we as limited human beings are still capable of creating positive, lasting change in our communities.. And a belief that change is needed, and that change is possible.

Though my work in MoFA's Agricultural Colleges is focused on promoting Agricultural Entrepreneurship more generally, I would be dishonest if I said I am not deeply passionate about social entrepreneurship; about raising a generation of Ghanaians committed to using their skills and creativity to address systemic social problems plaguing this nation.

This opportunity was a privilege. Another great day in Ghana.

Another day in the life..

So today I had what seemed to be a very normal day for me in Northern Ghana. But at one point it dawned on me, and I heard a voice in my head say:"this wouldn't have seemed so ordinary before".

Hope this gives you a taste of what some of my days look like here in Ghana. Enjoy.

6 am. I wake up after snoozing my alarm one too many times. I just got back to Wamale last night after an 8 hour bus ride from Kumasi. Still a bit sluggish. I wake up Rahama, my dear little sister who slept on my floor last night, and tell her to go to the compound house before her mom comes looking for her. I read and write for some time in my room before heading to the compound for breakfast.

As usual, I am greeted by many children, and proceed to greet each of the women, one by one. We ask the usual questions and wait for the usual responses, in Dagbani. I sheepishly tell them, half Dagbani half English, that I will be traveling again today- to the Upper East. They tell me I travel too much and need to rest. I smile, tell them it's true. I grab a wooden stool and sit beside one of the mothers to drink some delicious Nescafe and eat some bread- same breakfast I've always had in Wamale, since October 2009. Still satisfies.

I'm already sweating and its only 8am.

Fast forward to me hopping out of a sweaty taxi in town, as I venture into the Tamale Central Market. I am coming to pick up a new dress that my seamstress, Auntie Fausti has made. As usual, I am always a bit nervous- "will it turn out the way I envisioned? Will it even fit? Will it make me look fat? Will they tell me I'm fat?".

But this time, it’s a success! The dress is great, she really is an amazing seamstress, and Erin picked out a beautiful cloth. Fausti and her young female apprentices remark at how well the dress fits, and before I know it I'm walking back through the market. Turn right by the high heel shoe seller. Turn left by the groundnut paste seller.

I'm walking through the crowded aisles and then I hear "whack. Whack. Whack!" A ha; I see a butcher chopping some meat.
Whack. Whack Whack.

And just as I am passing by, WHACK and chunks of meat and meat juice splatter on me. "That's a first!"- I think to myself, as I flick a piece of meat off my shoulder. The ex-vegetarian in me cringes a little bit.

I head to the Transport Yard to catch a Tro Tro to Bolga for another wonderful West Africa Retreat, with all EWB staff currently working in Ghana and Burkina, as well as some staff coming from Canada, Zambia, and Malawi.

I buy the ticket, 5ghc, and wait on a bench in the shade; it is incredibly hot and sunny these days! I am wiping sweat off my face but it doesn't seem to help much.
Just when I thought this was bad, I'm squished into the Tro tro, with no air conditioner but the natural hot breeze that passes through the windows. I enjoy the time to think, though. I think about the weekend. Think about all that has happened in the past week in Accra and Kumasi. New ideas come to me; I jot them down. I listen to music. I make a few calls.

After nearly 4 hours, I arrive at the Guest House and greet familiar faces- we have come here before, and I remember the warm staff just as much as they remember me. I love that. After some discussions, confusion, and finally clarity, we've sorted out all the logistics; meals, rooms, conference halls, drinks. I get to talking with Mary, one of my favourite staff, as I'm playing with her son. I ask innocently, "Where is his father?" and she replies, "He is dead". I stop. I feel horrible. Try not to make a big, obvious reaction on my face. I ask calmly, coolly, "What happened?". She goes on to tell me that when Damien was just 2 months old, her husband died in a moto accident. Suddenly I see her so differently. I see Damien so differently. A little boy who never got to know his father. A woman who may never marry again. Imagine becoming a widow with a 2 month old. Wow. ...

They bring me to my room- a "special one" with an air conditioner and a hot shower! They tell me that, since I'm "the organizer", I get this nice room for free. And for once, I'm not complaining about special treatment and hierarchy in Ghana but enjoying it. Just a little.

After a delicious, refreshing shower, I put my MTN Internet Modem into my beautiful little laptop (thanks Mom!) and get down to business. So many emails to reply to. So many things to finalize before everyone arrives tomorrow.

Just another day.

The Myriad of Faces

If there ever was a faster transition from Ghana to mass materialism and excessive consumer culture than an AIRPORT, I haven't known it...

The airport truly is a fascinating bubble of society. As you rush out of the plane, you are immediately lured left and right by shiny, beautiful things. Designer purses, designer watches, designer perfumes, and you can't even get a bottle of water for less than $5. Notwithstanding the overwhelmedness this facilitates in me as I guiltily window shop, and browse the aisles of deliciously enormous chocolate bars, bestselling books, airbrushed magazines, sparkling watches and crystals, and spray myself with perfume I will never buy, I am almost equally enthralled with the beautiful people- not just the products- that flood the airport.

As I sit here in Amsterdam, enjoying a cup of green tea and 1 hour of free wifi, there is an endless rush of people walking to and fro, coming from one flight, moving to the next. The myriad of faces is enchanting. Woman wearing 5 inch high heels, men carrying babies, couples holding hands, couples arguing, children sleeping, flight attendants walking, always smiling- like mannequins. Some people are fat and some are quite thin. Some look African, others European, some look Asian, some you can't really tell.. some carry with them enough hand luggage to throw a flight attendant into a fit, and others simply carry themselves. Some are dressed for this cold weather, others clearly come from warm climates. Some have small fancy laptops and blackberries, while others look humbly, innocently lost in the airport- first timers? Some are sneezing- a cold from Canada, other look weak and tired- Malaria from Ghana? Some carry more wealth on their fingers than entire communities have collectively, and most seem at the very least comfortable, if not "well off". Where are they all going? Where are they all coming from?

I suspect that the airport is comprised of a specific, select range of people, with some nearly excluded, or in a serious minority. With recent experiences of qualified, educated Ghanaians being rejected Canadian visas to come to EWB's National Conference , I know that for many, many people in this world, travel is a luxury and one that vast numbers will likely never enjoy in their lifetimes.

As Christmas Carols and decorations begin to swamp my world, I am finally coming to the realization that Christmas is just a few days away now... and Christmas is always an opportune time to show gratitude for all the grace, favour, and opportunities that we enjoy.

When I see this myriad of faces I marvel at a world so vast, so diverse.. and yet, we are all one.

I love you all. May this Christmas be an exceptionally memorable one.