"Made in Ghana" by Chris; 02 March 2010

In Ghana safe filtered drinking water is most readily available in clear plastic bags or sachets with a company name printed on them. It costs 5 pesewas, the equivalent to 3 cents. These are the primary source of safe drinking water for the majority of Ghanaians so it is a good and affordable thing. The problem is that there is a VERY serious issue with how the empty sachets are disposed of.  For the most part they are simply tossed on the ground.

Nearly 300 tons of plastic waste is discarded in Ghana – every day! The greatest amount comes from various forms of plastic bags (boy do they have plastic bags) and most of this plastic waste is the direct result of safe drinking water. It sounds strange to say it that way, but what makes for a convenient, sterile, affordable, portable container for purified water also makes up for over 80% of the plastic trash.

Before the movement toward “modernization” in Ghana many of the food products purchased were served in say a banana leaf or corn husk, some still are, and people would consume the food and toss the wrapper on the ground for one of the millions of sheep or goats to eat, or it was left to simply biodegrade. Then along came well meaning foreigners to help with sanitation issues and they taught the people that plastic is clean, safe and good. But they never taught them that animals can’t eat plastic and plastic does not biodegrade. They were not trained in the proper disposal of non-biodegradable products so after the introduction of plastic they continued the same habit of tossing their rubbish on the ground and therein lay the problem. This is an entire conversation in itself and I really want to focus on our sachet project but suffice it to say sadly there seems to be little or no initiative on anyone’s part to address the serious issue of rubbish control here.

  

Typical beach in Ghana

I wrote in my journal toward the beginning of training how intriguing drinking water out of a bag was and how it seemed to in some ways make more sense than the ubiquitous plastic bottles. But I was distresses by the sight of millions (and I mean millions) of sachets scattered everywhere and I was going to put it on myself to figure out some creative way to use them. Well here we are a year and a half later and we have the Made @ DASHS sachet project.

The Girls; Priscilla & Joyce

Every year the visual arts teachers hold the Peace Corps Art Show where we gather with our top students to do workshops and show off our work. This is where the seed was planted for me. I started working with my students on product design and had them concentrate on what could be made from the sachets. Suggestions included everything from pencil, book bags and wallets, to rain coats and umbrellas. Many different designs and ideas were thrown around but we decided on a couple of different wallet designs and a woman’s hand bag to be made for the Art Show. We produced several of each of the designs along with a few decorative mobiles of cranes folded from sachets (resulting from a lesson on origami). All the products were quite well received and we sold most of what we took.

Flush with success we returned to DASHS and I proceeded to map out a plan for the future of the project. At the beginning of the next term we would start production in earnest in hopes of producing enough products to send to the US for the holiday season. We reworked the designs to simplify the process and we added a new design; a small zippered pouch. We decided against making any more of the hand bags do to its complexity. I worked with the students not only on the sachet products but also on setting goals, working efficiently and schemes on staying organized. I talked to them about the demands, expectations, and responsibilities of running a small business. Honestly like everything else most of this went in one ear and out the other but it was obvious that some of the information stuck. I also worked with my students and continue to work with them on educating the rest of the school on why we should keep Ghana clean and how we could use DASHS as a model. To this end we made some receptacles for sachet disposal and they were placed around central campus and I “tried” to train the students in their use. Consider that many of these kids are from the rural villages and they have never seen a rubbish bin let alone used one. It worked for about two weeks and there was a profound difference in the appearance of campus. But after that interest waned and many students decided it took just too much energy to walk the 10 meters to one of the receptacles. I continue to wrestle with this issue.

A sachet receptacle/ playground equipment

I was originally hoping to have 600 pieces ready to ship within 2 months from the start of school. Well as you have heard us complain previously, school doesn’t really start when it is suppose to so in the end we had barely a month to produce what was to be shipped for the holidays. We made a large chart, kind of like the United Way, and we updated it at the start of each week and in the end we surpassed our goals resulting in 260 wallets and pouches being shipped to the US via Ghana postal and a prayer.

Well the wallets did arrive and they seem to be a great hit. Along with some donations we earned around $700 for the school. This was all thanks to several dedicated volunteers including our parents, Tammi’s sister and nieces Rachel and Jessica, and our friend Jean back in Ames.

Sampson folding dividers

Every bit of the proceeds after shipping costs and quite minimal material expenses (after all we are using rubbish) will go directly into school improvements. I am hopeful that our initial “infrastructure” project will be the construction of a school canteen. At present food is served in a rather unsanitary environment, bare ground open to whatever animals choose to stroll through. Also the students presently have nowhere to sit and eat. I decided on this as the first project not only because the students and staff have been wanting it improved for a long time, but also in hopes that due to its high visibility, students and staff will readily recognize the benefits of the sachet project.

MTN sewing a wallet

We just returned from an excursion with the visual arts students and it was made entirely possible by the sachet sales. We took students to see various craft villages and expose them to some of their heritage. More on the excursion later.

Josh hot cutting parts

Other things we are considering doing wiht the monies are the purchase of more books for the hopefully soon to be refurbished library, the purchase of cisterns to retain rain water, and perhaps some of the monies will go into the scholarship fund. My vision is that all the proceeds will go toward improvements to the school. But at the end of the day it will not be my say as to where the proceeds go. I must say presently this worries me. You see it seems everyone has distinct ideas as to where the money should go and sadly most of the ideas are self serving. It is an issue that Tammi and I have profound frustration with and I don’t see it being resolved any time soon.

Josh cleaning sachets

So where do we go from here? That is the million dollar question. My plan is to serve as the distributer in the US and to have a teacher here at DASHS manage the program. I would work with the teacher and students on designs and form a representative committee to make collective decisions on how the monies should be spent. This would all happen in a perfect world but we’re definitely not in a perfect world.

  


Actual Made in Ghana @ DASHS sachet products

We have just finished 120 small and large zippered pouches; (a new design thanks to suggestions from you all) and have shipped them to our niece in Milwaukee to sell as a fund raiser for her Amnesty International club. We now plan to start producing wallets and pouches for the local market here along with working up an inventory I can bring back to the states at our close of service. But what happens after that? What happens to the money I send back? I honestly do not know.

You see I have managed to stumble into one of the greatest issues I feel Peace Corps Volunteers deal with; most of the time we start projects when we really should be overseeing the starting of projects and we end up running them because it requires much less pain and mental anguish. People here seem to be much happier if you do it for them. I have been working on the premise that if I got the project off the ground and they saw actual tangible benefits they might take it and run… Not so much.

In the end I feel this is a very positive project that holds a great deal of potential but all this is left up to the folks over here. I cannot and will not micro manage it, they must learn to do for themselves and I feel I have given them a pretty good tool to work with. We’ll see…

Yes there is always hope!

“Comings and Goings” by Tammi; 21 February 2010

ECG-That’s supposed to stand for Electricity Company of Ghana. But many say it more accurately stands for “Electric Comes and Goes”.  Lately it’s been doing a lot more going. It doesn’t help that people set bush fires this time of year and those fires don’t discriminate between burning down the bush and burning down the power poles.

 Chris looks on as flames from a recent bush fire lap against the walls of my ICT lab at school

The flow of running water seems to be taking its cue from ECG. It has been gone a lot lately as well. Plus it’s been miserably hot (even the locals are complaining) and it doesn’t do the best things for my motivation or general psyche. I get particularly cranky I wake in the night bathed in sweat because the power has gone again and taken our ceiling fan with it. It’s at times like these that I try to remind myself to be thankful for these luxuries in the first place. But it’s a challenge to be chipper all the time. Having our phone and internet services crash this week has added another interesting dimension. Although friends and family may be grateful that they have not heard from me, since my primary thoughts have been; I hate ants, I hate this heat, Stupid ants, Those %*#@ goats!, It’s so stinking hot…I’m melting! I hate F-ing ants! (You get the idea).

Anyway, a change in scenery might help. So it could be fortunate that later this week Chris and I will be chaperoning an overnight excursion. The visual art students who have been working on the water sachet project (Chris has a blog spot coming about this) are being rewarded with a field trip. The original plan included a visit to the most successful Ghanaian textile factory but that part of the trip had to be cancelled since the factory is temporarily shutting down (after unexpectedly running out of one of its primary production supplies). With any luck, however, the students will still get to visit a bead making village and bead market, a kente weaving village, a store that specializes in Ghanaian handicrafts, and the Akosombo dam which is where our electricity comes from – at least sometimes.

"Book Club" by Tammi; 16 February 2010

When meetings start late if they come off at all, when progress seems impossible, when it feels like we’re the only ones who care, it’s nice to be part of a newly formed group.
 
Not only do the members show up for meetings, but they are often times waiting outside the gate just in case Chris or I might happen to get things started early! New members are constantly showing up wanting to take an active role. Participants are so proud of their achievements they ask when we will meet again and if we can meet sooner. And when you remind them, We will meet tomorrow, they squeal, clap, and jump up and down with delight (literally)! This is the response we have gotten to our new book club. 

But I suppose you would say it’s a special kind of book club…

 

 It's a coloring book club!

Now if we can just figure out a way to bottle up some of this motivation and spread it to our other project groups we can probably save the world by our close of service!

“Two Once-in-a-Lifetime Experiences” by Tammi & Chris; 18 Jan 2010

One…

We spent Christmas night camped out in style on the Serengeti Plain.


Our Tanzania safari was incredible, and did we see the big 5?

Oh yeah!...











And then some...!
















This is for you, Cyn



What made it all really special is that we were able to share the experience with family.


No one can express it quite like our guide, Mussa,


but the best way to summarize the trip is to simply say “Wow!”

Two…

Since we were going all out, Chris and I decided on an once-in-a-lifetime twofer. After parting with the Frittses in Nairobi on New Year’s Day, Chris and I flew to Rwanda.

The genocide museum in Kigali was a moving reminder of the human atrocities that took place in this beautiful country in the not so distant past. After being so warmly welcomed by such kind, gentle, people it was especially difficult to grasp the events that took place. At the same time this emphasizes the need for every child in Rwanda to visit this place (which is thankfully happening) as well as the need for all people around the world to visit similar sights at least once. Unfortunately being human is not always something to be proud of. Memorials around the globe like these serve as important reminders of the past in hopes that our ugly history not be repeated.

After paying our respects in Kigali we were off to seek our next once-in-a-lifetime experience in Volcanoes National Park.

Tour package, $ 750 pp

Park entrance, $ 500 pp

Spending 1 hour with a family of endangered mountain gorillas...$ Priceless!















Now that we’re feeling refreshed and incredibly blessed, we’re ready to tackle the final six months of our Peace Corps Odyssey.

“An Evening Walk” with Tammi; 15 November 2009

I think that which I will miss most from my time here in Ghana are my evening walks. When the sun drops down in the sky and its intensity reduces to the somewhat sane mark, I’m willing to venture out of hiding. Today, as is typical on evenings in which I walk up the road, I meet and am greeted by many people returning from farm. (After laboring in the fields all day they are making their arduous way home. After lying under my ceiling fan escaping the heat I am out strolling for pleasure).

As I journey out, the image I see is truly African. I watch the sun dripping down the horizon behind the haze of a pale dusty blue Harmattan sky. Salmon pink, bright orange and amber hues radiate from the sky’s huge glowing disc. A ridge gently rises in the distance carpeted with dry high grass, palms, and the feminine curves of tall autonomous acacia trees.



There is much to see on my little adventures. To my right on the bank of the ditch I catch a glimpse of an impressive skink. His sides mimic the pinks and blues of the sky, and other lizards of the black and yellow-orange “push up” variety scurry in response to my approach. A little further along my walk I step to one side to avoiding a giant millipede cruising along the warm black pavement. And a few steps later skip over the remains of a big black scorpion. As I try to watch my step I also keep an eye above me and on the surrounding trees. You never know when you might catch sight of a green feathered parrot, the comical beak of a hornbill, the brilliant crest of a turaco, or the fantastic elongated flight feathers of a nightjar.



In the center of this evening portrait are silhouettes of the people. The first to pass by me is a man on a bicycle, a twig pen strapped on the back of the frame contains a bewildered young goat. A distance beyond, a woman wrapped in worn but colorful cloth balances a huge aluminum bowl on her head and a baby on her back. The contents of the bowl are uncertain except for a cutlass whose handle protrudes from the top. She is flanked by four children. A medium sized boy is shrouded by an unruly bundle of leafy branches which he wrestles to keep on his head, food for the goats at home. A young girl is topped with a bucket of maize. Another boy is capped by a giant stubby-fingered tuber, (tonight’s dinner will no doubt center on this true yam). And the final young boy is topped with an unwieldy dry branch at least twice as long as he is tall, fuel for his mother’s cooking fire.



Still at a bit of a distance, I notice the small boy with the big branch zigzagging down the road in a rather odd way. A little giggle travels the distance between us, and then I see a big white smile emerge from the shadow of his mother’s face. Now I’m close enough to this little entourage to understand what’s happening and I can’t help but to smile myself. I have seen this family before.

We had crossed paths earlier in the year but that time we were walking in the same direction. As I was returning from my evening stroll I had come up on them as they were setting off after a short break from their walk towards home. They were on one side of the road and I on the other. And so we walked on together (but separate). After the usual greetings, my Twi vocabulary was pretty much exhausted. So we walked along in silence; awkward silence (at least for me). I wasn’t sure how to break free of my uncomfortable social predicament, so I took a lesson I learned from my father. I started acting goofy.

First I voiced that I was tired (a little something I was able to pull from my limited Twi) and I started walking at a slower pace. This did not solve my problem, however. The kids copied my steps and slowed down as well. So then after a little bit I picked up the pace and started walking briskly. This did not go unnoticed by the children either who also picked up their pace. So I gave in and added some animated arm movements as if I were in a fake run which went over quite well. And then something akin to Monte’ Pythons’ silly walks ensued all the way to my driveway where I graciously made my exit. They continued on down the road satisfied with their evening’s entertainment.



As I approach the group tonight the boy has spied me first and is egging me on with his antics. We share a fun little exchange and continue in our separate directions. I am thankful for this evening’s walk and this pleasant encounter especially since I was in a bit of a “mood” for most of the day.

Playing Peace Corps volunteer is not always a walk in the park (or in our case a walk in the bush). Not so long ago I was at a crossroads. Reaching the half-way mark in one’s service is a great mile stone and cause for celebration. But it is also a time for reflection and setting new goals. What have I accomplished in my first year? What do I hope to accomplish in my second? Little questions – big burdens!

There were times during the first year when I thought I would be happy to simply survive! That wasn’t really my mind set when I first started out. Sure, I knew I SHOULD keep my expectations down and I SHOULD focus on the little successes, and yeah it’s great to say “If I have affected just one person in a positive way I can consider my service successful”. Blah, blah, blah…bunk. Those things sound great, and I think they really are great – just maybe not for me. I simply could not resist the temptation to have higher aspirations.

At least I had the sense (or lack of vision) to not assign anything specific to those aspirations. In the general sense my mind was and still is open as to where this journey will take me and as to what I might achieve. But it was tough reaching the half way point and realizing that mostly what I had to show for my efforts was…well…what do I have to show?! Survival – check. Now what?



There is a pretty big gap between survival and saving the world. And I spent most of the day today thinking about that, dwelling on that. I have been riding on a pendulum since I stepped off the plane. First the upswing; a great inspiration comes to mind and I start to work. Then the downswing; Plan A falls through followed by plan B and plan C. And just when I’m about to give up…a breakthrough! Then I’m cruising along with great momentum on the upswing then– WHAM! “Whoa, where did that wall come from”?!

There are times I would like to scream, “That’s it, I’m through, I don’t have the energy to care anymore!” But for some reason I keep on keepin’ on. Maybe it’s the spark in the eye of an 8 year old orphan. Maybe it’s the initiative I see building in my young counterpart. Maybe it’s the fact that every time I’m about to throw in the towel and walk away, someone slips in just under the wire and takes up the charge.

Before arriving and during training I heard variations of the same bit of advice several times; never doubt that the work you are doing is making a difference. Since the advice came with sincerity and from people I know and respect I feel there must be some truth in it. So when one of ‘those days’ comes along I try to remind myself of this and try to believe that my efforts are not in vain.



As I continue on my walk this evening I feel that things are on the upswing again. I break from the road and make a detour on a trail that leads past the borehole, through campus, and then on toward home. As I round the bend to the bore hole I hear the voices of two young ladies and then recognize the neighbor girls as one of them pumps water and the other fills her container.

I greet them first, “Maa Jo”!
They are delighted that I’m speaking Twi and giggle “Yeh niah”!
“Mo ho tu sen”? I continue.
“Eye! No won swe”? they reply testing my toddler level Twi.
“Menso me hoye” I throw back to them.
“Nowo ko he”? They prod testing my vernacular.
“Me ko sukuu ana me ko fia” I reply in stride.
“Oh Madam! Wayah di ye!” (You have done well), they shriek in response to our volley of basic words.

Had I been in a foul mood I may have interpreted their remarks as condescending and taken offense. But I take a bow instead, which spurs their delight and I smile happily all the way down the trail toward home. Life is what we make of it.

“Reflections of the First Year-RPCV’s” by Tammi; 14 Nov 2009

It might be a stretch to say that I joined Peace Corps in order to obtain the rank of Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) and feel like I’ve earned my seat at the monthly social gatherings, but it was a factor.

Long before I ever volunteered for the Peace Corps, I noticed that there was something that all Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs) have. I’m not sure where or how they got it. But I like it. And I’d like to have it to. If only I can put my finger on exactly what it is.

I can’t remember when I first heard about Peace Corps or who the first RPCV was that I met, but it left an impression. Maybe it was the work the person had done. Maybe it was the concept and mission of Peace Corps itself. Maybe it was the exotic image I had in my head. Maybe it was something I ate. But whatever it was, I noticed that each RPCV I met possessed something. No matter where each person served or how long it had been since they served, they had it. I’m not sure if the RPCV’s are even aware that they have this thing. But to me it’s quite evident albeit ever-so-difficult to get my hands on.

When I first began seriously entertaining the idea of volunteering I started asking a lot of questions to RPCVs I knew. This is when I started to get a better glimpse of the mysterious it. No matter how naïve I may have been with my questions, no RPCV was ever condescending. In fact, I felt they each showed great understanding, respect, and compassion. As I pressed on with my interrogations, the RPCV would patiently answer my questions the best they could. But I got the feeling they were leaving something out. Although at the same time I didn’t feel they were trying to hide anything from me. I think maybe the RPCVs responded to my inquiries much like a parent does with a child. It was like a pat on the head. No matter how much you try there are some things in life that cannot simply be explained.

In the end I decided that there must be only one way that I could get it. I volunteered. Now after a year+ in Peace Corps, I don’t believe I necessarily have it, but maybe I’m beginning to grasp it. The slogan says that Peace Corps is “The toughest job you’ll ever love”. While this is proving to be true, there is a lot more to it. It’s not just a job (or just an adventure). It’s a level of growth and a mindset.

Peace Corps is kind of like spring cleaning. First you clear out all you have accumulated. Then you knock off the dust, analyze each thing, and decide what’s worth holding on to, what’s superfluous, and what needs to go. First I did this physically while preparing to leave home. Then upon arriving at my assigned location I started to go through the process again. But this time psychologically. This has led me to believe that it might not be something that RPCVs have, but rather it might be something they have given up or decided to leave behind.

In my mind RPCVs reside on a pedestal. And like a child, I would like to emulate my heroes. As I continue on through the second year of my Peace Corps odyssey, I realize that what I have experienced so far has made an irrevocable impact on my life. But I can’t know if when I return home I will have acquired what those RPCVs possess. I hope I’m getting closer… still working on it.

Pictured: A few of the latest from Ghana to obtain the rank of RPCV