Trip to the eastern region

This would be my first trip to a new area of the country and I was definitely looking forward to seeing what more there was to this country I was staying in. We ventured out of the city and attempted to avoid the traffic by taking side roads that run parallel to the main roads. This afforded me more views of the way normal Ghanaians live. There are nice houses along the road with shopping areas that come right to the edge of the road. There is barely any room for a car to pull over to purchase something. As we got further and further out of the city, the greenery increased. We drove through a valley that contained pygmy-like palm trees, a few scattered houses that seemed in the process of being constructed – or taken down, and a sign that point toward New York City. In the distance was a tall mountain, covered in trees and what looked like a small narrow road that would along the face of it for quite a ways before disappearing behind it. I soon realized we were heading on that road.

I feel like Americans tend to use the phrase “hairpin turn” a little loosely after traversing this mountain. These were true hairpin turns on the switchbacks that enabled us to climb higher and higher up the mountain. The cement blocks provided some security for not careening over the side, but they looked very new and I assume had probably been added in the last ten years. The view was somewhat obscured by smog, but you could see almost the entire valley of the city and its limits… you could also see how high we really were, so I took a quick glance, remarked at how impressive the view was to myself and then quickly turned my eyes to the road in front of us. We came upon a toll booth after coming down the mountain, which was basically a blue plastic hut with a window area. The toll booth employee leaned out the window to collect our 20 pesawas (equivalent to 20 cents) and we headed on our way. There was no swing arm thing preventing us from moving forward. You just stop and pay the guy.

As we continued on, we passed through small towns that reminded me of the old West in the US -except with cars. The set up is probably similar, there were store fronts right on the main road with are single lane roads that people drive about 75 miles on through towns. Again, there is no real place to pull over and as quickly as we entered the town, we exited. Also, right out of the old west, we passed someone who was trying to herd cattle across the road. The cows got very close to the car and our driver had to beep at them to keep to the side of the road. I thought to myself that this is not the day that I want to kill a cow with a motor vehicle. As we drove into Koforidua, the main city of the eastern region, the buildings become more concentrated and the number of people greatly increased. It felt a bit like the Boston of Ghana. The buildings were lower than in Accra, life felt quite orderly and it was just generally more peaceful seeming for a city than the capital.

So I forgot to mention why I was even driving out here – the point of the one-day excursion was to introduce 250 at-risk girls ages 15-20 to the Girls 1^st program and to get their feedback on the future of the program. I was responsible for organizing the girls into focus groups, developing a focus group survey of information from HIV knowledge to job skills they would be interested in acquiring and training the focus group moderators on how to use the survey and what we were looking for from them. This came after a little impromptu speech from me. Kwame, the Red Cross director, introduced me in Twi, so I couldn’t understand what was being said and then said, “How about saying a few words to the girls?” Um, what??? 250 girls, plus community leaders and assembly people and you want me to say a few things extemporaneously? Thankfully the girls were all just so sweet, so when I said trite things like “I have enjoyed the new foods I have tried in Ghana” they smiled and laughed. And, I don’t think they were laughing at me.

Besides for my especially unremarkable remarks, other women leaders stood to encourage the girls on the importance of this program and the great opportunity they are going to have to learn a new skill that will empower them to make their own money and not have to rely on men. The girls were reminded about how conniving men can be and how it is difficult to trust me at their age. Many girls nodded in agreement and it made me realize the universality of teen problems and challenges. These girls though struggle not just with healthy relationships and avoiding teen pregnancy, but a poverty that is so gripping that prostitution or selling goods on the street is a more viable choice than being in school. I do want to dispel some myths though about poverty in Africa, or at least in Ghana. The children and houses do not necessarily look like those depicted in the commercials by Suzanne Struthers from All in the Family. The girls were dressed like teens from the US for the most part with gaucho pants, jeans, t-shirts and accessories. Most of them also have cell phones. There were 17 girls there who had babies and two were pregnant. These statistics might compare to an area like Lynn, MA or parts of the southern US that don’t have the informational resources to prevent teen pregnancy. I met one 17 year old girl who said that the guy denied he was the father of the baby and took off soon after she disclosed she was pregnant. This is pretty common here. In Massachusetts, as many of you may know, the pregnant woman can go to court to order a paternity test. The man is required by law to submit to the test and if it turns out positive, is required to pay child support. Of course, we all know how well the child support system works for many of these moms, but at least it is better than no system at all.

After a few speeches and some information about the Girls 1^st program, the girls divided into their focus group areas and I sat down with the moderators to explain the questionnaire. I made a novice mistake by not asking if anyone had lead focus group discussions, but luckily Susan came to my rescue to assess the level of experience. All of them had done something like this before, which was kind of surprising to me because I am so used to them being a part of market research, not necessarily development research. So rarely do agencies ask the population they are serving what they themselves would like. It was encouraging news to hear that this is at least a semi-regular occurrence for the Red Cross. After a brief explanation and some key highlights, such as making sure the girls understand that this is a 9 month program and we cannot teach them a skill that would take 2 years or more to master and confirming that they all have enough time during their week to participate in something like this program. We also wanted to assess how many could see themselves running their own businesses.

With anything I am responsible for, I tend to fear the worst. What if the girls don’t talk? What if the survey is confusing for the moderators? Have I offended someone somehow with the wording of my questions? Fortunately, the moderators we had were amazing. They were animated and really engaged the girls in discussions and were just the perfect kind of moderator you would want to have for a program like this. The girls themselves were very impressive too. Most of them seemed excited about the idea of a program just for them and were happy to respond to the questions. I couldn’t understand anything of course, but it was fun walking around and taking pictures. Many loved to pose for the camera, make funny faces, and see their pictures in the preview screen. One girl’s 2 year old walked in my direction and had this look of shock and horror and her cute little face. I was wondering if I was one of the first white people - “obruni” in twi - she had ever seen. Other than that poor little girl’s reaction, the Ghanaians are a very warm and inviting people. Rich, poor, educated, not educated, they all say hello, smile and are just generally nice. At the end, the Red Cross team seemed excited for my return and gave me big hugs. I met the Queen Mother of the community, who I found out overrules all community leaders as this is a matrilineal community. How lucky! She gave me such a big hug that I felt enveloped in her soft, plump skin.

The ride back was much the same as the ride there. Bernard and Susan dozed while I tried to take photos out the window. No cows this time, but I saw a few bigger lizards and kids coming home from school who were picking up water in buckets to carry to their homes. I did notice more mud homes. These are homes whose walls are constructed from the red clay mud that is prevalent here. Asymmetrical bricks are created and the walls are constructed with these bricks. Most have roofs made from that wavy aluminum material and are either hammered down or weighted down with large rocks. Many had large branches leaning against the house that seemed to be attempting to keep the walls from collapsing. Although it keeps the rain out, I can’t imagine it keeps much more out and seems like a stressful way to live. There are some leaning houses in East Boston and I wonder how people can live in them thinking that any day now the house will just fall down. I guess at least the mud hut dwellers are not on the second and third floors.