8 Coast of Ghana: The Road to Ada Foah

My luck has run out. Of all the times to suffer an attack of diarrhoea; in a crowded tro tro roaring along a highway in torrential rain.

Elizabeth pleads with the driver to stop and he argues furiously. Finally he concedes and pulls over at a deserted service station. Deep, muddy puddles surround the dilapidated toilet. An obliging adolescent registered my distress and throws down a plank and I wade through the slush, like a novice circus performer.

Back in the tro tro, saturated but relieved, I pray the imodione kicks in and wonder, pointlessly, what I ate or drank to cause my embarrassing predicament.

Earlier I had rendezvoused with pretty Elizabeth, brown as a berry, the crew leader of the Asi-Daahey and Maranatha schools and hospital projects at coastal Ada Foah in the Dangme East District, where she has been impressively in charge since February, ushering in waves of anxious volunteers. Originally from Carlisle, she’s equipped with a Masters in International Development and Education and at just 23 had already done the hard yards in Tanzania, Kenya and other parts of Ghana.

Like a confident mother hen, Liz gathered together the dazed, culture shocked new recruits; Susie, a speech therapy student from Manchester, Beth, a charity worker from South London, Flavia, a trust manager from Jersey and me, an Aussie journalist now living in Ealing, for a comprehensive, if not mildly daunting, induction.

We convened in the beer garden of the Paloma Hotel and Elizabeth eloquently outlined our roles, the health and safety issues, the rules, the local customs, the natural environment and the cast of characters we would encounter.

Seeking a much-needed vitamin fix, I ordered fresh carrot juice chased by fresh orange juice. Perhaps the kitchen staff added tap water? Elizabeth gave us a caste-iron guarantee that we would get sick if we foolishly drank the water straight up. Plastic sachets were the only safe option.

We were joined for lunch by four amusing girls, brimming with humorous anecdotes from their first week at the projects; Hannah, a biomedical student at Newcastle Uni, and Susie’s friends; Jess, Alix and Charlotte, all speech therapy students from Manchester. Keen for a break from spicy food, we shared a veggie pizza, confident that appetising treat would be a safe food choice!

But the instant I sat in the tightly-packed tro tro, as it filled with passengers including a silent girl with a container of snails on her lap and her mother nursing a metal head dish of yams, I knew something was wrong as I feel all queasy.

But after the bizarre toilet stop, catastrophe is averted! My stomach has stopped churning, the rain has vanished, the sun has broken through the storm clouds, my clothes have dried out and all is well on the road to Ada Foah.

When we arrive in the red dirt top end of town, the cool dudes are out in force, swaggering near their shiny motor bikes; an impromptu welcoming committee for the intriguing procession of fair skinned girls in their shorts and flip flops.

The attractive, fresh-faced girls receive countless proposals on a daily basis and the locals are shocked to know they are not already married with several babies in tow! Their single status is a social disgrace the cheeky lads offer to immediate rectify! The motorbike boys give me the once-over and fortunately I now have the title of ‘Mama’ so I’m in no danger of random marriage proposals!  

Us wide-eyed new recruits enter the the cluttered rooms of the MAD House, which is indeed extremely basic, no-frills accommodation and the volunteers have not wasted time on housework! I resist the urge to play Mum and start tidying up. Instead I make a cup of tea. What else would any self-respecting Aussie-Brit do!

I am rather chuffed that I can figure out how to hang up my mosquito net over my bottom bunk bed without any help and I claim a section of gritty concrete floor space for my gear. Over-flowing bags, tangled clothes and assorted girls’ stuff are strewn everywhere. Just like camping!

I meet a few of the village children who have popped in for a visit. Showing them some photos of my family, my trusty little laptop is fast-fading laptop and I panic, imagining my essential work tool going kaput, then realise it just needs charging!

We venture out for dinner (more rice) at The Brightest Spot. Lounging outside at a long table in the cool dark night, with the African version of Big Brother playing on an overhead screen in the distance, the girls swap entertaining stories and laughs as we watch a group of cute kittens play in the garden, flipping and leaping and wrestling.

So I have arrived at Ada Foah and a new adventure begins. I’m off to bed under my mossie net. Sweet dreams. 

2 Shia: Touring the Village Brings Insight

Heavy shoes are required. Justus is leading Anna and Gabi and me on a tour of the village today to view the Madventurer projects. We walk along the red dirt High Street greeted by locals tending their shops, our white faces a source of curiosity but being with the respected village elder, it is clear we are guests and dazzling smiles make us welcome.

First stop is a run-down, closed-up house that Justus explains belonged to his cousin, now deceased, which Madventurer can use to accommodate volunteers while they renovate the old disused post office converting it to a MAD house for future volunteers.

We enter the musty old building full of broken furniture and junk and salvage a grubby old foam mattress and dusty pillows and some useful items, making the most of available resources, rather than just chucking stuff away as we do back home.

When Justus shows us inside the derelict post office, I can’t help thinking it needs a visit from the TV crew of Sixty Minute Make-Over. However an enthusiastic team of hard-working MAD volunteers will clean, repair, paint and perform a miracle in a matter of weeks! 

We wander across the road through the lush fields to the School and meet the teachers and peep into classrooms of children in their neatly pressed terracotta and peach uniforms who laugh and greet us with “Ye-Vo, Ye-Vo”.

Justus points out the impressive toilet block that was built by Madventurer some years ago however the toilets aren’t working because the plumping is broken and I realise the school and the whole village is in desperate need of plumbers. Proper sanitation brings hygiene and transforms the quality of life.

We visit the Madventurer building now being used as a kitchen by ladies to cook the children their mid-day meal of Banku. We watch them roll maize dough into balls and wrap them in leaves to bake in coals.

At the kindergarten, the three-year-olds are sitting with straight backs in little chairs in rows on the verandah. All of the children are curious with wide eyes and toothy smiles and giggles but one little boy starts crying and runs for cover and another little girl sobs inconsolably at the sight of three big white skinned people! I say to Justus “We must look like ghosts!” and he laughs and agrees!

We meet the headmaster and Anna discusses plans for a sports project with a team of Frisbee players from the UK coming out later this summer. The Ghanaian children are legendary football players and athletes but Frisbee will be a new experience!

Justus shows us a sturdy pavilion constructed by Madventurer volunteers to be used by senior students for Technical studies in carpentry, plumbing and electrics however without equipment there are no classes so the building stands empty. I register another desperate need for training in the trades. 

When we visit the neighbouring Evangelical Presbyterian school, an elegant teacher is conducting lessons in a rickety building, clearly in need of repair or replacing altogether.

        

The excited children rapidly cluster together for a photos, jostling for front position and squeal with delight when we show them the pictures!

Visiting the school is a delightful experience and like most Ye-Vo’s, my heart is instantly captured by the beautiful, exuberant children with their irresistible big brown eyes, dazzling smiles, tight curls, enthusiasm for learning and good manners.

Continuing our tour around Shia village of around 3000 residents, we visit the impressive Catholic temple and church, the busy clinic which treats people from the whole region and we meet the charming midwife who delivers babies and runs the other and baby health checks.

We wander along dusty streets past humble houses bustling with everyday life and head back to the main street to shop for fresh, free range eggs, palm nut butter and a face washer to mop up the constant perspiration.

This afternoon Head of Madventurer and Shia Chief of Development John Lawler arrives with four pretty young students from Newcastle University. Laura is President of the Students’ Union and Harriet, Sophie and Rosie have been volunteering at an orphanage.

The girls will sleep on mattresses on the floor in my room so they dump their back packs and we all set off to see Justus’ Cocoa farm. It is well established with six-year-old trees yielding healthy yellow pods and a nursery of seedlings ready for planting.

Justus is the driving force behind forming a cocoa farmers union and he has 35,000 seedlings to distribute. Along with Madventurer’s help, the farmers aim to take the industry to the next level. Instead of selling the raw beans to the National Cocoa Board, they want to manufacture and export cocoa powder, which would bring in more revenue, jobs and prosperity for the region.

It’s an exciting project. As John explains Madventurer’s goals are to assist with the community’s basic needs, then education and finally industry and employment. And cocoa growing is perfect for the Volta region’s climate and conditions.

On the way back we spring an impromptu visit on Justus’ nephew Martin who has ingeniously come up with a sideline in his retirement of distilling a potent spirit from the sap of Palm trees. So we savour the Apotesi, which is surprisingly smooth and I imagine that a chocolate liquor would go down a treat around English fireplaces!

We also pay a formal visit to one of the esteemed chiefs and John brings a customary gift of two bottles of Schnapps. The chief makes us welcome in his community and promises our safety. We assemble in the garden for a group photo for the archives.

Justus is tireless and wants to show John and the girls the proposed MAD House but I am flagging so opt to return to the house to refreshen up with a wash, a cup of tea and lie down and maybe even upload my photos. But I discover the girls have locked the room and taken the key so I languish hot and sweaty on the verandah.

When Clinton appears, I show him how my camera works and he races off to practice his creativity. Later I show him how to upload and crop the images on my laptop. He grasps the skill quickly with a budding talent for photography!

We dine on Doris’ simple dish of rice and spicy vegetables and settle in for some socialising, chatting with the girls about their impressions of life in Ghana and their ambitions after graduation. We retire early to allow John and Justus to catch up on village business over a glass of red wine.

1 Ghana: Disorientation of landing

I have no idea what an African village looks like, only some vague, cartoon notions of rows of thatched roof huts set in a barren wilderness.

The reality is I am staying in the solid brick, spacious home of Justus, the Village elder, a dignified, articulate man in his 70s, with quiet, efficient housekeeper and cook, Doris, her beaming 12-year-old son, Clinton, three- year old daughter, Emmanuela with her new gold ear rings, Justus' strapping foster son and protégé, Knowledge, 18, Madventurer crew leader, English Anna and her French boyfriend, Gabriel.

Shia is a remote village on the border of Togo, half an hour’s bumpy drive on a rough track past the town of Ho in Volta region of east Ghana.

The once stately now ramshackle home, which saw its glory days in the 70s, is set on acres of tropical gardens with wandering goats, hens and kittens. The familiar warm damp embrace of heavy humidity and instant glow of sweat, reminds me of home on the sub-tropical Sunshine Coast in Australia, where I lived amid the spiky bougainvillea, purple jacaranda and orange poinciana for 18 years before moving to bustling London.

The afternoon torrential downpour has brought the optimistic outdoor meeting of cocoa farmers to an abrupt end and me to my room to rest after the tiring four-hour journey by tro-tro, a 15-seater bus, shared with local passengers through the lush countryside.

I arrived in the vibrant city of Accra only last night after a pleasant two-movie, indulgent flight on British Airways. Just six hours out of Heathrow and I am suddenly in a beguiling exotic world.

 

Immediately I extravagantly tip £10, the only note I have, an eager young luggage handler for helping me with my massive bags, full of heavy school supplies for the kids in the orphanage. This is equivalent to 30 Cedis, possibly a week’s wages! It’s his lucky day.

I’m relieved to be welcomed by smiling Anna in her bright red Madventurer t-shirt in the airport lounge. She haggles with the cab driver and we make our way to the Pink hostel where I collapse on the bunk, getting my bearings.

Sunday morning we cab it to the Accra marketplace for my first sensual encounter with the colourful profusion of Ghanaian street life; assorted food stalls, coolly confident mammas with babies secure in colourful back slings, elegant ladies juggling massive loads on their heads and fancy young men hustling for business at the sight of two ‘Ye-vo’s’; white people. We wait well over an hour in the stifling tro-tro until it fills with passengers for Ho before setting off.

Our long, cramped journey is a chance to chat with the exuberant Anna, a Yorkshire lass who got bitten by the travel bug very young on a student exchange trip to France and now has an insatiable appetite for travelling and working around the world.

 

Anna volunteered on Madventurer projects in Peru and Ghana and travelled throughout Africa, India and Europe straight out of high school and now lives in Paris, speaking fluent French, working as a nanny and studying at University! What a dynamic young woman! She’s a perfect match with adored boyfriend Gabriel, who is doing his Masters in International Development.

En route Anna and I snack on chunks of fried starchy Yams in sticky tomato sauce, from roadside vendors who come right to our van window. The fat wedges are delicious but I’m guessing not low calorie, the equivalent of western fast food! I undo the button on my trousers! 

When we arrive at Justus’ home, I’m shown to my large room with clean lino floor, double bed and my own bathroom and bucket of water for washing, as the plumbing is not working!

Outside in the cool evening air, refreshed from the downpour, Anna gives me an orientation of the Madventurer philosophy and guidelines and the week’s plans for work in the cocoa plantation.

I chat with little Clinton who is enjoying sitting close to us Ye-Vo’s and I win him over with a present of luxury chocolate bought at the Duty Free. We learn how to write each other’s names and giggle.   

Later with Gabi and Anna, I savour my first traditional meal of Red Red spicy beans and fried plantain followed by exquisitely sweet fresh mango for desert.

By 8 pm I am done-in and retire to my room to read the chapter on the Wanderer archetype in The Hero Within, highlighting the sentence ‘Allow your heart and your curiosity to push you to explore other possibilities.’

The first day in a new country is strange and transitional. My mind is racing with wild thoughts and images as I wrestle with the sheet under the whirring ceiling fan, wondering Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I?

As a drift off to sleep, I trust I will find out tomorrow.

Facing Challenges Before the Adventure Even Begins

Trudging up a steep hill in a sudden downpour in the unfamiliar terrain 

of North London, rushing breathless to the Ghana High Commission 

marks the start of my ‘pre-trip’ adventure.

Waiting damp and dishevelled, wide-eyed and anxious, amongst coolly confident Ghanaians, for Number 336 to be called, I am fretting. These grim mug shots are not exactly ‘recent’ and I forgot to give the proper references.

But relief! The covering letter from Madventurer is sufficient endorsement. I hand over the forms and my precious passport and pay £50 by credit card and will now wait on delivery by snail mail.

Applying for a Visa for Ghana is a simple procedure really and doesn’t warrant such stress. But all first-time experiences are fraught with apprehension of the unknown. Next time will be a snap!

I don’t want this volunteering lark to be just a self-indulgent feel-good exercise. I want to make a tangible contribution to the lives of the children in the orphanage.

So I ponder my skillset that relates to children. I am not a teacher and have no gritty hands-on experience in schools. In fact, as a young mum I was slightly terrified of the rowdy, chaotic school scene and preferred my glamorous role in the local media and sitting on committees as my way of contributing to community causes to getting down and dirty in the classroom!

But it’s time to get practical. What can I do? I can read books to children. Yes, I’m good at reading stories! So I rack my brains to remember some favourites from my kids’ childhoods and settle on The Very Hungry Caterpillar (actually The Very Annoying Caterpillar for parents forced to read it over and over!) and The Little Red Hen (a cautionary tale about helping with the work if you want the rewards!) 

So I order these books to pack in my suitcase along with my new ukulele and the humble songbook I’ve compiled of simple children’s gospel songs. These were my favourites as a kid: This Little Light of Mine, He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands, We Shall Not Be Moved, Kumbaya.

I’ve been tipped off by English visitors to African countries to have a few songs ready to sing at social gatherings as a way of cross cultural sharing and instant bonding. 

So now it’s a matter of practising my ukulele chords and rhythm so I can hold a tune and the kids can have a laugh! I can picture them giggling, their white teeth flashing grins of delight at this white woman with yellow hair singing off-key!

And I can run cooking classes for the older kids and spread the joy of lentil burgers and my simple vegetarian dishes. I’ve made a little recipe book including Bliss Balls, yummy healthy sweets and ever-reliable lentil burgers. I’m planning to start a Lentil Burger Revolution as the panacea to world hunger! 

Jabs of Surprise

I am an optimist by nature, of the blithe ‘that would never happen to me’ mindset rather than a worrier who imagines every possible travel disaster from contracting rare diseases and being mugged to losing luggage and being attacked by disgruntled rhino’s.

So it is with utter surprise bordering on shock that I receive two brutal jabs, one in each flabby arm, when I visit the clinic. I expect to pick up a painless little script for malaria tablets and have a pleasant chat with the nurse who would reassure me that I didn’t need any injections because visiting the tropical paradise of Ghana was really quite safe and only really nervous pessimists would opt for precautions. Wrong!

Jab One is for Tetanus/Diphtheria/Polio and Jab Two is for Hepatitis A.

Bam! Bam! Just like that! And furthermore I am to return next week for a Yellow Fever injection with cash or cheque of 65 quid for another stinging stab and certificate, which is necessary for entry into Africa. Thankfully the certificate is valid for 10 years of travel.   

As for the malaria tablets they cost £2.30 a pop and I need to take them before, during and after my trip for 30 days in total. However when I read about the disease I realise it is not a risk to be messed with, even for a cheerful optimist.

The nurse refers me to the Fit for Travel website and I read about a colourful array of tropical diseases, cholera, parasites and rabies I could be immunised against if I want to be extra careful but I decide I’ve got it covered.

So I turn up at the clinic the following week for my Yellow Fever jab and get a reprieve when I say I’m going to see the West End musical, Singing In The Rain tonight. Because it’s possible to have a reaction, the nurse suggests I reschedule. I am relieved because I’m feeling nervous about this injection.

A week later and there’s no excuses. I’m here with Nurse Lydia and she has her shiny needle. But my fears are allayed; it’s only a little prick and goodness knows I’ve endured some little pricks in my lifetime! So my micro dose of Yellow Fever will activate my army of antibodies to be ready to fight the real thing if necessary. Now I will find out if I have a reaction over the next 10 days. No reaction whatsoever! Yippee!

Packing Goodies

It’s the final week before blast-off and I decide not to take my ukulele on advice from husband Andrew, a former primary school teacher, who reckons the kids might get bored and frustrated with my two songs and three chords, expecting someone who totes an instrument (even a small one) to be able to adeptly play requests on demand. 

So my challenge for my next trip is to extend my repertoire and master a few more chords!

Thursday afternoon and I’m making a ‘dash’ by bus to Richmond Spec Savers to pick up my new contact lenses and I enjoy a phone call with friend Stephanie in Costa over a cuppa who suggests I take some face paints!

After protesting that I can’t draw for nuts, she says that simple hearts, stars and flowers will suffice to delight the kids. So I go in search of a toy shop and come away with face paint, stickers, crayons and an assortment of little novelty gifts. The well-meaning lady urges me to take bags of lollies but I’d rather introduce the kids to healthy treats so resist the temptation!

Back at home I raid my stationery supplies and gather up loads of great stuff to donate to the school. Later I catch up with our Pastor Charles who hails from Ghana and he gives me the low down on the geography, the culture, the people and a simple Akan greeting “Ayekooo” which translates “I see you are working hard, well done” or in Australian “Good On Ya Mate”. Now that is an expression I can understand!

So I am all set, as ready as I’ll ever be, filled with excitement, as I go a little MAD, taking my first trip to Africa! I hope I will Make A Difference to the Ghanaian children and adults I meet but I am sure they will enrich my life with ‘difference’. Quite likely I will never be the same.