Letters from Volunteers 2009
From Shelby:
...So, so many things have happened since that first exhausted, excited email. We spent some time shopping on the coast, we trekked through a sublime rainforest stories above the ground, experienced the sad memories of a former slave castle, got lost, got stuck in the mud, got soaked in the rain, and had at least a few moments when we all thought everything would fall apart.
These experiences, as you could likely guess, bonded our team together in beautiful ways. By the time we made our first true volunteer visit--a trip to the Airfield School in Ho--we were a cohesive team with a clear mission. At Airfield (a tract of land initially intended for an airstrip that was never built), the students had prepared a cultural display honoring our arrival. Watching them dance in traditional costume, hearing them sing and play drums, I could tell this was a different school from a year ago. Their spirits have become higher--In class they were quicker to speak and smile and laugh. We crafted with the students and put together balsa wood airplanes (apropos, no?) that one of our volunteers brought as a gift. Hearing them all scream with delight as they watched the planes sail through the air was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Unfortunately, I also saw the poor conditions of the school when a "typical" monsoon swept through. The rain battered the tin roofs so hard, teachers and students could barely hear each other. Leaks in grass roofs left some students distracted, trying to situate their desks so that all could stay dry. The entire grounds turned into mud--a slimy, slippery mud that stole shoes and left us practically skating around the compound. Even after the rain stopped, still water was left behind--the perfect breeding ground for the mosquitoes responsible for so much sickness here.
It was with a somewhat heavy heart that I left the Airfield school. It felt like there was so much more to be done there. But upon arriving in Kpando and, more specifically, the Bishop Forson school, my heart was lifted again. I had finally found the familiar faces, the streets I know--I even welcomed the frequent callings of 'yevu (white girl)!' as we walked around town. My video-making class--though not without it's technological difficulties--was a smashing success. The kids took great video and gave me a lot of great things to work with. When I get home, I'll be putting their footage together and sending a DVD back to the school. I'm so proud of them! One day we even took a field trip together--they were so well behaved, took amazing footage, and we all had a blast. Despite a blackboard that had me looking like a chimney sweep by the end of most days, the massive spiders that frequent the computer lab, and no less than 5 electrical shocks on a daily basis (they have this thing about not wrapping wires--electrical tape is very expensive, you know), my co-teacher Chao and I made it through.
The experience (especially as a teacher) was educational, mostly because it showed me how much I still have to learn--about their culture, about keeping a class together, about trying to make technology work in developing countries, and much more. But of course, these trips are a process. I am confident that as I continue to return, I will learn more and more.
After catching what seems to be a parasite in my last few days teaching, the plans of staying on campus became delayed. But I'm making a speedy recovery thanks to an absurd mix of remedies American and Ghanaian, and despite some logistical problems that have the headmaster nervous about our stay, Chao and I will be moving into the Boyer Block (the residence hall) pretty soon. I ask for your prayers as I move in there--It's not going to be easy, by any means. But the point is immersion, and in-depth reporting for pagus, and also finding a sense of solidarity with these kids. So I'll do it all--wake up at the crack of dawn, fetch water, bathe from a bucket, eat some porridge and head off to a full day of classes.
Here, I am reminded of every single one of you, because all I want to do is give the kids everything you all have given me. Everyone back home has something unique to offer here. If, when I got home, I could convince even just one of you to be a part of this, I'd be so pleased. The work is real, the help is real, the impact is visible. It is perhaps for that reason that I'll have so many stories to tell. Bear with me, as I am sure I'll become the "this one time in Africa ..." girl.
I send love, and a newfound appreciation for flush toilets (which they don't have at school). Shelby
From Elyse:
I finally have a free moment to write you, which I had intended to do
a week ago. :o) My apologies. Thank you so much for your e-mails and
inquiries. It has certainly been an incredible experience so far, filled
with feelings of joy and warmth, and at times, shock and sadness. I have
never felt so fortunate for the little things we take for granted.
We have just culminated "Art Week" with the students. Many
of the volunteers departed yesterday, and several of us are staying on,
to work with the students and teachers, and attempt to organize all the
new, donated materials. Many of you made donations for this trip/ endeavor,
and I can tell you that it has made a huge difference in the lives of
the students, and members of the school community.
Let's start from the beginning:
I am currently living in Kpando, which is a rural town in the Volta region of
Ghana. I start off my morning with a breakfast of oats, fruit, and tea. I either
walk to school, or ride in the school van.
The school is situated on a mountain top, so the view on the way to
school is absolutely incredible. Upon arrival at the Bishop Forson School,
I am warmly and enthusiastically greeted by the students with wide eyes
and beaming smiles. There are about 150 students, ranging in age from
3 to 16. Due to the donations that have been pouring in, and the efforts
of Pagus:Africa, the Bishop Forson School has become one of the top schools
in the Volta Region. The school facilities seem very minimal in our eyes,
but we are constantly working to create more opportunities for the students
through new materials, equipment, and buildings. However, the school
does boast a computer lab, library, main office, and swing set. The classrooms
have concrete floors, enough desks for all students, and one blackboard.
Most of the classrooms have doors. The area in which the swing set is
located, also has a gravel area for playing football (a.k.a. soccer).
As I set off to my morning Art class, I am bombarded by students offering
to help me carry my materials, all the way down to my water bottle. I
am joined by Sedem and Joyceline, my Ghanaian teacher counterparts. They
are 20 and 21 years old. Despite their propensity to talk over one another,
they are very helpful in translating what I am saying to the students,
and assisting in any way they can. My morning class is composed of boys
and girls, ranging from 7-11 years old. Some of my students names include
Beauty, Nyinase, and Dodzi. I would characterize my morning class as
very eager, great at problem-solving, and they are also quite funny and
rambunctious. Dodzi (pronounced Do-ji), is the student who my family sponsors.
I have gradually become very close with him since I have arrived, and
our relationship has become one of the most important ones I have formed
on this trip. In fact, we spent 6 hours together today at a hospital
so he could finally get the medications he so desperately needed.
Before I have time to put all my materials from the morning class away,
my afternoon class of eight beaming, smart, motivated, lively boys, ages
12-15, are already seated at their desks and raring to go. Some of their
names include Joyson, Bismark, and Justice. This group definitely kept
me on my toes. They sought out new skills and experiences on a daily
basis. In fact, they begged me to teach them some Spanish during class,
while they worked on their art. (Thankfully, we only had time for the
basics, as my Spanish is less than stellar.) They highly enjoyed walking
up to their friends and teachers and saying "hola amigo" and "adios!"
When my afternoon class ends, it is time for lunch. I join all the teachers
under the mango tree for red-red. We use the downtime to discuss how
the day went, and share notes.
After lunch, I led after school clubs. On the first day, I introduced
origami. Students stormed into my room to grab a chair and piece of paper.
Sadly, I didn't really think ahead that a bunch of students who speak
little English and range in age from 6-15, may have a hard time following
my instructions on how to create a series of tiny folds. I learned very
quickly that this is a club meant for 5-7 students, total. It ended up
being really nice to have that small group of students to see every afternoon,
and form more personal relationships with.
We also spent some time after school, dedicated to working with the Ghanaian
teachers. Their big concern was behavior management. This school has
recently abolished caning as a form of punished (which is still widely
used in most schools in Ghana), so teachers are really struggling to
figure out how to discipline their students. We tried to establish a
general set of rules for the school, and the classroom, set up new goals
for the students and teachers, and also focus on positive reinforcement.
It's been eye-opening to learn about the differences in the methods of
teaching, however, we also share the same thoughts regarding what being
a great teacher means, and the elements that characterize a great student.
All the teachers, Ghanaian and American, gained a lot through this sharing
of ideas.
Upon my return home, (if I'm not too exhausted to move), I will walk
around the market in Kpando. I'll pass lizards, goats and chickens scurrying
around the streets; women and children with baskets of food masterfully
balanced on their heads (containing plantains, smoked tilapia, bread,
water, etc.); stands that include produce, electronics, clothing, woodworks,
and batik, to name a few; children constantly pointing and yelling "yovu" (meaning,
white person); locals waving, stopping to say "you are welcome (here)" or
to shake your hand in friendly passing, ending the shake with a snap
on each others fingers. The generosity, warmth, and willingness to go
out of their way for their "brothers and sisters" exuded by
every Ghanaian I have encountered, young and old, is abundant.
Dinner finally rolls around. A choice of starch-filled delicacies: rice,
yams... more rice... perhaps beans or veggies. I end my evening planning
for the next day, and writing in my journal.
This trip has not gone without its weekend adventures, which include:
Liberian Refugee Camp, Cape Coast Castle, Canopy walk, kente village,
Sunday church, monkey sanctuary, and the most stunning and enormous waterfall
I have ever seen.
Every day I eagerly absorb new information, witness something I have
never seen before, interact with people and engage in conversations that
I will never forget, and discover things about myself at the same time.
I am so grateful to be here.
This next week and a half, I will be focused on working with the teachers,
organizing the school materials, and fixing up the existing the facilities.
I will also be carrying out a small art project with the English classes
of the older students, who will be responding to letters and artwork
(with their own letters and artwork) created by my students in the States.
~ Elyse