No, this soap opera is not over yet.
After the drilling failed, the supervisor said he'd call whoever his boss was and tell them they have to come out and survey before he will drill anymore (they had about six jobs all over the Upper East). Why he didn't demand that he get the survey data before he started drilling two boreholes is beyond me. I still don't know who messed up, who did not do their job, but I think if you go in a drill without the surveying been done, you are at least partially to blame.
After meeting with the elders, explaining that they didn't hit water, he said that they'd get some surveyors out and then come back and drill. I thought he was totally BSing us. But two Saturdays later, Christopher called me to say that a surveryor had called him and they'd be out the next day to take data. (Best part is that I am not the contact person, I'm not dealing with meeting people. What a relief.) This man and his team surveyed for about two hours, then he said it'd take a few days to analyze and then we'd see what to do. The rains were starting to come, so I was skeptical as to whether drilling would happen again this year.
(While this is happening, I was in contact with Mary about the expenses that Christopher and I incurred when the drillers were here that we weren't forewarned about. Like I mentioned in Part 1, the supervisor demanded lodging and food, but little did Christopher and know that they were not going to pay for anything. Dinner, breakfast and lodging for a night for seven people is not cheap. I smelled a rat. Well, or I just smelled a Ghanaian who was trying to take advantage of villagers' generosity. They had already rubbed me the wrong way when they first arrived in Kongo, so I had to clear up this issue. Mary emailed me back right away and said she was not aware that the workers were not paying for their expenses. She asked me how much we spent, and she would reimburse me as soon as possible. So not only did they no do their job correctly, they took advantage of the community's vulnerability. Christopher told me not to ask for reimbursement, he just wanted them to come drill again. I told him, No. No amount of dashing is going to get you water. Not to mention they are getting paid for their work, its not like their volunteering their time, and they work in Accra with white people, they should know this is not appropriate and very unprofessional. And the villagers already showed their appreciation with two guinea fowls and a bunch of pito, so no extra bribing was necessary by any means. About a week later, I got the reimbursement from Mary.)
A few weeks after the survey team came, the same drilling team came out again. I was shocked. They arrived late from Bawku one night again, then drilled the next morning. I was not informed of the progress of their work, but I frankly didn't care too much. I had already see the drilling process once, and all you can do is sit and watch for four hours as pipe after pipe goes into the ground. Not too exciting.
So I found out the bad news the other way. I happened to call Esther about something else, and then I asked how the drilling went (Christopher's phone was off anyways, not like I need to keep reiterating that) and she told me they had already left Kongo. The drilling failed again. This time around I didn't feel so connected or involved or invested with the outcome. My heart already broke the first time, and I'm glad I didn't have to go through that feeling again.
A very brief glimmer of hope was seen after the first drilling failed and a survey team came out...but still in the end, nothing. But now this is no longer my deal, its no longer my project. I tried, did what I could, but it failed. I have no idea what the next step is now- try again next year in a completely different spot? Continue to deal with this as is? I don't know. Now its Christopher's turn to figure out the problem with his community. I have many contacts for him to use, so now he needs to step up and work with the experts to handle the problem.
I'd like to say it wasn't a waste of my time and effort and energy to try to get a borehole. I don't know what I feel. But I worked with Ghanaians, I worked with an NGO, I held meetings, I was a contact person and advocate for Go-nseung, I learned a lot along the way about development projects, and at least I can say that I did all that I could to try to make this project happen, at least I didn't just sit on the sideline and hope someone else would do the work, I didn't give up even though I thought about doing that a lot.
Most importantly I remembered a very simple, poignant saying: Shit happens.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Borehole, Part 1
WARNING: This story does not have a happy, successful ending.
What a long time coming this has been. When I first came to Kongo on my site visit in November 2011, I met with Go-nseung for the first time. From that point on, I knew that getting a borehole was their number one priority. Throughout 2012 I persisted in finding contacts that could do the work. I ended up talking with three different organizations in the Upper East and Northern Regions. Two of them gave me very high quotes (10,500 to 13,500 cedis), and were not willing to budge much; the other one didn't get back to me enough for me to find out what their deal was. In order for me to get funding through Peace Corps, the community would need to contribute 25% of the cost of the project. That just didn't seem feasible for the community, and it would have taken me a long time to fill a grant of that size.
(Theoretically, the assemblyman is supposed to help the community with projects like this. Why mine, who is also my so-called counterpart, did not follow through with his duties in this respect is beyond me. I have asked many neighboring communities how they have gotten their boreholes, and every time they say the assemblyman helped. It is true our district was just split up, so all the government offices are being relocated and it'll take a long time to get it all settled, but why he put no effort whatsoever into helping me I still can't figure out. My good friend Cletus, who lives in Kongo most of the time, but who is Ran's counterpart in Yakoti just a few kilometers away, was able to get a borehole put in right outside his family compound, and he is in the same district as Kongo. It is amazing- there's a solar panel to pump the water into a big Polytank, and then you can fetch water from a pipe. And how did he get this? His assemblyman.)
Getting towards the end of 2012, I was just about ready to give it up, and let a potential next volunteer take it up. Then I went to Thanksgiving in Accra; my homestay family knew of a woman at an NGO that drills boreholes and does other projects in the Upper East and Northern regions. So I was put into contact with her.
In one of my last blogs ("The New Year") I mentioned the first meeting I had with Mary, from the NGO, in Go-nseung with the elders. Mid-February I had a second meeting, this time with the Ghanaian pastor who stays in Bolga who represents the NGO up here. He just came to see the area and talk with me, he didn't need to meet with the elders. Luckily Esther was at the house, she came and met with us, and she was able to give the pastor a local's perspective on the potential project. Again, Christopher was nowhere to be found, his phone was off and he'd apparently gone to Bolga for a workshop, who knows. I made the meeting earlier so that he could attend, but was still a no-show.
Then the beginning of March I got a big surprise- a big bus full of white people from the church in America. That was weird. I was told by Mary that she'd be "bringing some of her friends" to see the area, but I didn't know this would be the day. So I get a call from the pastor in Bolga to come out the road to meet their car so we can drive over to Go-nseung...I walk out in my traditional smock and was stunned to see the Yutong bus of white people, about 15 of them in all. But it wasn't too terrible- there was A/C and they gave me a paper bag full of American snacks!
The group was on a one-week trip to Ghana to see the projects their church was funding. I guess they come once a year to see the area and meet the villages their helping and see where their money is going. Go-nseung knew people were coming to meet, so the elders were around, but no one had a clue that so many white people were coming, so they all got a bigger surprise than me! Everyone, especially the kids, were thrilled. Every plastic chair that was owned in the immediate area was brought out for all of them to sit in.
I have never felt less like a foreigner and more like a Fra Fra, one of the villagers, than I did when this group showed up. I in no way had anything in common with them, I barely even knew how to start a conversation, not to mention how to answer the questions they asked me. I had an awkward moment as all the small kids were setting up the chairs for the white people and the elders- where do I sit? So I asked Esther and she said to sit with the elders, so I did. We talked for about 30 mintues, then they were on their way to the next project site. Mary told me the next step would be to have surveyors come out to look at the area at the end of March.
Well, the end of March comes around and I haven't heard anything. When I call, she says they'll be in the Upper East the first week in April. Ok. First week in April comes around, no word. I guess she was up here going around to sites, but I never saw her or any surveyors. I call again and she says that the drillers will be there soon and that I should have a borehole in 2-3 weeks. Cool.
We had our All-Volunteer Conference at this point, so I gave Mary Christopher's contact information so that the drillers could be in contact with him. At first I was upset that I had to give up control, since he has been nonexistent with this project the whole time, and I just didn't trust him to be around to take care of this. But then I remembered that this really should not be my responsibility, this really should not be my project, it really should be Christopher's. So I reliquished all control and responsibility of this project to Christopher, and it felt so good, a huge weight off my shoulders.
The drillers did not end up coming when I was at the conference, they came the end of the week that I was back. Apparently, their project in Bawku got delayed, they were originally supposed to come to Kongo on Thursday, but got in late Friday instead.
They rubbed me the wrong way from the start. They didn't inform Christopher of their arrival until an hour before they got here, which was when I was going to bed, and they needed rooms to stay at the mission, which Christopher did arrange ahead of time, but then they were also demanding that we feed all seven of them. First they said Christoper's wife should cook for them; then, they said, why doesn't the white lady cook for us. EXCUSE ME??? That is just a ridiculous demand anyways, but especially at 9:30 at night, and this supervisor has not even bothered to call me to introduce himself. Who the hell are you? So. I let Christopher deal with that one. I went back to sleep.
Saturday morning I was just waiting for a call to see what was going on. At 9, Cletus' son Andrew comes to my house to tell me Esther wants to see me near the market square. She tells me that the drilling has started and I should go over to the area. Christopher's phone was off, so he couldn't call to tell me himself. SHOCK. As I bike over to Go-nseung, I see a huge machine and trucks and I hear lots of noise- THEY ARE DRILLING! I go greet all the elders who are sitting in a row of plastic chairs under a big tree just near the drilling site, but out of the way of the clouds of dust that are billowing out of the drilled hole. I was ecstatic. I couldn't keep myself from smiling.
It was a big operation- one big, long truck that had the tall drill on it and all the machinery, and then another truck with the pipes. Christopher comes back from running into town to get pito for the workers; he fills me in on what happened the previous night and in the morning. Then he takes me over the introduce me to the supevisor and workers. He told me it wasn't looking good, the gravel was comin out too dry.
That's when my heart started to sink. I knew that no one came to survey, so early that morning, Christopher told me the workers just asked where the elders wanted the borehole, and then started to drill. Even I know that's not how you go about drilling. Come noon, its looking like a failed effort. They stop drilling, take out the each pipe. The supervisor then tells me the same thing happened at their previous job in Bawku- they drilled, no waer. And again, they did no surveying there either. They were contracted to drill six boreholes in the area, and no surveying has been done at any of the sites. What?! Seems like they enjoy blowing thousands of dollars for nothing (I was told its 4,000-5,000 Ghana cedis per failed drilling, about $2,000-2,500). None of it made a bit of sense. (Martin told me later that there are surveyors all over Bolga, so finding one is not a problem; and Cletus told me that surveyors came out THREE times to survey his area for not only water, but also hazardous chemicals.) I still want to know who dropped the ball on this one, who didn't do their job.
Within three hours that morning, I couldn't have felt more happiness and elation and then so much disappointment. One year of work came crashing down. I wanted to see this through, have one single tangible project to point to and say, "I made that happen."
TO BE CONTINUED.....
What a long time coming this has been. When I first came to Kongo on my site visit in November 2011, I met with Go-nseung for the first time. From that point on, I knew that getting a borehole was their number one priority. Throughout 2012 I persisted in finding contacts that could do the work. I ended up talking with three different organizations in the Upper East and Northern Regions. Two of them gave me very high quotes (10,500 to 13,500 cedis), and were not willing to budge much; the other one didn't get back to me enough for me to find out what their deal was. In order for me to get funding through Peace Corps, the community would need to contribute 25% of the cost of the project. That just didn't seem feasible for the community, and it would have taken me a long time to fill a grant of that size.
(Theoretically, the assemblyman is supposed to help the community with projects like this. Why mine, who is also my so-called counterpart, did not follow through with his duties in this respect is beyond me. I have asked many neighboring communities how they have gotten their boreholes, and every time they say the assemblyman helped. It is true our district was just split up, so all the government offices are being relocated and it'll take a long time to get it all settled, but why he put no effort whatsoever into helping me I still can't figure out. My good friend Cletus, who lives in Kongo most of the time, but who is Ran's counterpart in Yakoti just a few kilometers away, was able to get a borehole put in right outside his family compound, and he is in the same district as Kongo. It is amazing- there's a solar panel to pump the water into a big Polytank, and then you can fetch water from a pipe. And how did he get this? His assemblyman.)
Getting towards the end of 2012, I was just about ready to give it up, and let a potential next volunteer take it up. Then I went to Thanksgiving in Accra; my homestay family knew of a woman at an NGO that drills boreholes and does other projects in the Upper East and Northern regions. So I was put into contact with her.
In one of my last blogs ("The New Year") I mentioned the first meeting I had with Mary, from the NGO, in Go-nseung with the elders. Mid-February I had a second meeting, this time with the Ghanaian pastor who stays in Bolga who represents the NGO up here. He just came to see the area and talk with me, he didn't need to meet with the elders. Luckily Esther was at the house, she came and met with us, and she was able to give the pastor a local's perspective on the potential project. Again, Christopher was nowhere to be found, his phone was off and he'd apparently gone to Bolga for a workshop, who knows. I made the meeting earlier so that he could attend, but was still a no-show.
Then the beginning of March I got a big surprise- a big bus full of white people from the church in America. That was weird. I was told by Mary that she'd be "bringing some of her friends" to see the area, but I didn't know this would be the day. So I get a call from the pastor in Bolga to come out the road to meet their car so we can drive over to Go-nseung...I walk out in my traditional smock and was stunned to see the Yutong bus of white people, about 15 of them in all. But it wasn't too terrible- there was A/C and they gave me a paper bag full of American snacks!
The group was on a one-week trip to Ghana to see the projects their church was funding. I guess they come once a year to see the area and meet the villages their helping and see where their money is going. Go-nseung knew people were coming to meet, so the elders were around, but no one had a clue that so many white people were coming, so they all got a bigger surprise than me! Everyone, especially the kids, were thrilled. Every plastic chair that was owned in the immediate area was brought out for all of them to sit in.
I have never felt less like a foreigner and more like a Fra Fra, one of the villagers, than I did when this group showed up. I in no way had anything in common with them, I barely even knew how to start a conversation, not to mention how to answer the questions they asked me. I had an awkward moment as all the small kids were setting up the chairs for the white people and the elders- where do I sit? So I asked Esther and she said to sit with the elders, so I did. We talked for about 30 mintues, then they were on their way to the next project site. Mary told me the next step would be to have surveyors come out to look at the area at the end of March.
Well, the end of March comes around and I haven't heard anything. When I call, she says they'll be in the Upper East the first week in April. Ok. First week in April comes around, no word. I guess she was up here going around to sites, but I never saw her or any surveyors. I call again and she says that the drillers will be there soon and that I should have a borehole in 2-3 weeks. Cool.
We had our All-Volunteer Conference at this point, so I gave Mary Christopher's contact information so that the drillers could be in contact with him. At first I was upset that I had to give up control, since he has been nonexistent with this project the whole time, and I just didn't trust him to be around to take care of this. But then I remembered that this really should not be my responsibility, this really should not be my project, it really should be Christopher's. So I reliquished all control and responsibility of this project to Christopher, and it felt so good, a huge weight off my shoulders.
The drillers did not end up coming when I was at the conference, they came the end of the week that I was back. Apparently, their project in Bawku got delayed, they were originally supposed to come to Kongo on Thursday, but got in late Friday instead.
They rubbed me the wrong way from the start. They didn't inform Christopher of their arrival until an hour before they got here, which was when I was going to bed, and they needed rooms to stay at the mission, which Christopher did arrange ahead of time, but then they were also demanding that we feed all seven of them. First they said Christoper's wife should cook for them; then, they said, why doesn't the white lady cook for us. EXCUSE ME??? That is just a ridiculous demand anyways, but especially at 9:30 at night, and this supervisor has not even bothered to call me to introduce himself. Who the hell are you? So. I let Christopher deal with that one. I went back to sleep.
Saturday morning I was just waiting for a call to see what was going on. At 9, Cletus' son Andrew comes to my house to tell me Esther wants to see me near the market square. She tells me that the drilling has started and I should go over to the area. Christopher's phone was off, so he couldn't call to tell me himself. SHOCK. As I bike over to Go-nseung, I see a huge machine and trucks and I hear lots of noise- THEY ARE DRILLING! I go greet all the elders who are sitting in a row of plastic chairs under a big tree just near the drilling site, but out of the way of the clouds of dust that are billowing out of the drilled hole. I was ecstatic. I couldn't keep myself from smiling.
It was a big operation- one big, long truck that had the tall drill on it and all the machinery, and then another truck with the pipes. Christopher comes back from running into town to get pito for the workers; he fills me in on what happened the previous night and in the morning. Then he takes me over the introduce me to the supevisor and workers. He told me it wasn't looking good, the gravel was comin out too dry.
That's when my heart started to sink. I knew that no one came to survey, so early that morning, Christopher told me the workers just asked where the elders wanted the borehole, and then started to drill. Even I know that's not how you go about drilling. Come noon, its looking like a failed effort. They stop drilling, take out the each pipe. The supervisor then tells me the same thing happened at their previous job in Bawku- they drilled, no waer. And again, they did no surveying there either. They were contracted to drill six boreholes in the area, and no surveying has been done at any of the sites. What?! Seems like they enjoy blowing thousands of dollars for nothing (I was told its 4,000-5,000 Ghana cedis per failed drilling, about $2,000-2,500). None of it made a bit of sense. (Martin told me later that there are surveyors all over Bolga, so finding one is not a problem; and Cletus told me that surveyors came out THREE times to survey his area for not only water, but also hazardous chemicals.) I still want to know who dropped the ball on this one, who didn't do their job.
Within three hours that morning, I couldn't have felt more happiness and elation and then so much disappointment. One year of work came crashing down. I wanted to see this through, have one single tangible project to point to and say, "I made that happen."
TO BE CONTINUED.....
The Kong-Gorug Library
Aftermore than a year of talking and brainstorming and planning and coordinating, the Kong-Gorug Library is now in existence!
It all started early last year. Esther took me to Kong-Gorug Primary to show me the school and introduce me to the headmaster, Martin. He mentioned at one point that the school didn't have a library and they wanted to get books. I said I'd see what I could do to help. And that's how a project was born.
Last summer I got an email from some Northern Region volunteers saying they wanted to get a grant going for a shipment of books from America. I jumped on that opportunity right away. Getting the grant filled took maybe a month or two, which then brought us to the end of last year. Around that time, Martin got the PTA together to raise funds to buy wood and build bookshelves, and at the beginning of this year, the shelves were built! Then all we had to do was wait for the books to be shipped and for them to arrive up in Bolga. Early this year the container was shipped, and at the beginning of April the container finally made it to its destination in Kumbosco, just outside Bolga.
After our All-Volunteer Conference, I scouted out the location of the book container with Martin. It was about a five minute taxi ride outside of Bolga, and a short walk off the main road. So one Wednesday, all the volunteers who were involved and available came up to Bolga to sort and distribute books. There were about 15 total volunteers who wanted books; about 10 came up to help sort. Our share of the container was 2,500 books, so everybody got roughly 250 books, some more, some less. I ended up with five big boxes that totaled 280 books- primary level sceince, geography, history and reference books, and junior high level science, math and literature textbooks. I also got a box of 50 junior high math and science textbooks for Stephanie who was on vacation. That Friday, with the remaining funds from the grant, Linda rented a big truck to come transport the boxes to PCV's sites or to the Tamale sub-office where volunteers could then come pick up. This saved us all a lot of hassle with taxis and tros, and saved us a lot of money. I helped load the truck full of book boxes, and then got them to deliver my six boxes right to my compound door, lucky for me.
By this point, the schools were on break. So the six boxes sat around my room for a few weeks until mid-May when the schools started the final term of this school year. Monday, May 13, the headmaster and I took the three boxes of primary-level books to Kong-Gorug (the other two boxes were for the junior high). Over a couple of hours, we sorted the books into reference, biography, history, storybook, and science categories and then I made an inventory of each section. And then we celebrated with a Guinness. I felt I deserved it after a year of working on the project.
We also discussed rules of the library and how books should be tracked and students held accountable. There will be a library period during the school day, and they will have access to it at nighttime (since they now have a solar panel!) with teacher supervision. A booklet will keep track of books checked out and who checks it out. We will also stamp each book with the name of the school and number each book.
I'm still waiting for school to be fully back in session; it usually takes a few weeks for students to all be back in school after a break. And its also the beginning of rainy season, so everyone has been busy sowing seeds for the new planting season. Once the kids are back, I'm goin to have them write thank-you notes to the grant donors. Martin is also trying to organize a PTA meeting to officially introduce the community's new library. But with everyone at farm now, we'll see how long it takes to happen!
Once I take care of those two things at the school, all I have left to do is wait for my mom to come visit next month and deliver the books that she has already sent to Accra, and then I'm DONE. So one out of my two main projects at site has worked- a 50% success rate isn't bad, right?
It all started early last year. Esther took me to Kong-Gorug Primary to show me the school and introduce me to the headmaster, Martin. He mentioned at one point that the school didn't have a library and they wanted to get books. I said I'd see what I could do to help. And that's how a project was born.
Last summer I got an email from some Northern Region volunteers saying they wanted to get a grant going for a shipment of books from America. I jumped on that opportunity right away. Getting the grant filled took maybe a month or two, which then brought us to the end of last year. Around that time, Martin got the PTA together to raise funds to buy wood and build bookshelves, and at the beginning of this year, the shelves were built! Then all we had to do was wait for the books to be shipped and for them to arrive up in Bolga. Early this year the container was shipped, and at the beginning of April the container finally made it to its destination in Kumbosco, just outside Bolga.
After our All-Volunteer Conference, I scouted out the location of the book container with Martin. It was about a five minute taxi ride outside of Bolga, and a short walk off the main road. So one Wednesday, all the volunteers who were involved and available came up to Bolga to sort and distribute books. There were about 15 total volunteers who wanted books; about 10 came up to help sort. Our share of the container was 2,500 books, so everybody got roughly 250 books, some more, some less. I ended up with five big boxes that totaled 280 books- primary level sceince, geography, history and reference books, and junior high level science, math and literature textbooks. I also got a box of 50 junior high math and science textbooks for Stephanie who was on vacation. That Friday, with the remaining funds from the grant, Linda rented a big truck to come transport the boxes to PCV's sites or to the Tamale sub-office where volunteers could then come pick up. This saved us all a lot of hassle with taxis and tros, and saved us a lot of money. I helped load the truck full of book boxes, and then got them to deliver my six boxes right to my compound door, lucky for me.
By this point, the schools were on break. So the six boxes sat around my room for a few weeks until mid-May when the schools started the final term of this school year. Monday, May 13, the headmaster and I took the three boxes of primary-level books to Kong-Gorug (the other two boxes were for the junior high). Over a couple of hours, we sorted the books into reference, biography, history, storybook, and science categories and then I made an inventory of each section. And then we celebrated with a Guinness. I felt I deserved it after a year of working on the project.
We also discussed rules of the library and how books should be tracked and students held accountable. There will be a library period during the school day, and they will have access to it at nighttime (since they now have a solar panel!) with teacher supervision. A booklet will keep track of books checked out and who checks it out. We will also stamp each book with the name of the school and number each book.
I'm still waiting for school to be fully back in session; it usually takes a few weeks for students to all be back in school after a break. And its also the beginning of rainy season, so everyone has been busy sowing seeds for the new planting season. Once the kids are back, I'm goin to have them write thank-you notes to the grant donors. Martin is also trying to organize a PTA meeting to officially introduce the community's new library. But with everyone at farm now, we'll see how long it takes to happen!
Once I take care of those two things at the school, all I have left to do is wait for my mom to come visit next month and deliver the books that she has already sent to Accra, and then I'm DONE. So one out of my two main projects at site has worked- a 50% success rate isn't bad, right?
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Traveling
In a recent letter to my mom I mentioned how I get around in Ghana because she had asked me how I make travel plans. Its a good question- how the heck do you get around this country? I think I briefly talked about traveling here when I first got to Accra, but I don't think I've described it much since then, so I will try to do the subject justice. We just had our All-Volunteer Conference, so its the perfect opportunity to describe the traveling experience here.
Traveling is the most dreaded activity here, next to hand washing our clothes and dishes. Ghana is about the size of Oregon, but with how long it takes to get anywhere, you would think it was as big as the entire West Coast. Really, all you can do is "hope for the best, prepare for the very worst."
Our All-Vol Conference started on a Thursday, so I left my house that Tuesday to get to the Tamale sub-office. To leave Kongo, I walk to the market square and either pick a tro-tro that's driving through Kongo to Bolga, or I hop on a Kongo car that's waiting in the market to fill. On days that I'm lucky, I catch a car as soon as I get to the road; on bad days, I can wait up to an hour for a tro to drive by with a spot open, or for the Kongo car to fill. Once in Bolga, I go get on a Tamale car. Usually when I want to get to Tamale, I leave my house as early as I can so I can get to Tamale by noon. I just hate making that 3-hour drive to Tamale after the middle of the day. Since a lot of Upper East volunteers were heading down to the sub-office before the conference also, I lucked out and got on the same tro as Lauren and Ran. Traveling with people is so much better than being alone- you have someone to talk to on the painfuly long drives, and you have other white people support once at your destination. Usually when I catch the Tamale car, I miss the first car out and I have to wait about an hour for the next one to fill. Only a lucky few times have I gotten one of the last seats available. Once in Tamale, you take a taxi to a place called Vittin Estates, which is just east of the main Tamale town off the Salaga road. You drop at the junction where there's a convenient corner provisions store, then walk a few hundred meters to the office.
Just like last year, All-Vol was held at Bunso Cocoa College, which is in the Eastern Region, about an hour west of Koforidua. So all of us staying at the Tamale sub-office had a long trek to make on Thursday. About 20 of the PCVs hired a private car to take them directly from the office to the college, but I didn't get on it in time, so I had to travel the normal way. But it worked out fine, I ended up traveling with Ryan, Lauren and Mary- an awesome group to make the trip with!
So there's several ways you can get from Tamale to Bunso: 1) take a Tamale-Kumasi car, then in Kumasi get a Koforidua car and drop early at the college (the car will drive right by the college on its way to Kof, so its pretty convenient); 2) take the Tamale-Accra bus, either early morning day bus or afternoon night bus, and drop early at the college (cars going to the south will pass by the college, so you just drop early). I decided to stick with what I know- take the Tamale-Kumasi car, then in Kumasi go to the Kof station to get a car. From Tamale to Kumasi, its about 6 hours, then Kumasi to Kof is about 4 hours, but dropping at the college makes it about 3 hours. So 9 hours of driving, but that doesn't include waiting for cars to fill, and the exchange in Kumasi. This all adds up to us getting a really early start.
Thursday morning we were up by 4:30 AM, out of the office by 5, got a taxi right away, and were at the station a few minutes later. We arrived at the station just in time to get on the first bus to Kumasi, we got the last 4 of 5 seats. I've never been able to catch that first car to Kumasi, I always am on the second small car to leave, so I was pretty excited! We took up most of the back row of the bus. Usually in big tro-tros, the last row of seats is the WORST, but this was a nice big bus, so the back was very roomy! For various reasons (people not on the bus, a big truck in our way) we don't leave the station until 6 AM. At this point the sun was just over the horizon- time to nap!
Cars going from Tamale to Kumasi (or anything in general going between the north and south) make one definite stop, for about 10-15 minutes, depending on the driver- at Kintampo. All other small stops are just for people to go pee on the side of the road; so essentially, this stop at Kintampo is the only one I get. This is the approximate halfway point between Tamale and Kumasi. There are decent restrooms, a few sit-down places to eat, and lots of bread, yams, fruit, fried yam and meat being sold. Sometimes I'll buy some bread to snack on, sometimes I'll buy some fried yams, because the hot pepe sauce that comes with it is so good!
We end up beating the private PCV bus to the Kintampo stop by about 10 minutes, so we crossed pathes for a few minutes. Then it was back on the road for the four of us, no stopping until Kumasi. We got to Kumasi about 12:30, and we dropped at Race Course to grab a taxi to the Kof station. (Race Course used to be a big, bustling station before I got to country, but it was torn down to build a hotel, so I've been told.) Again, we lucked out and got the very last seats on the car that was filling up to go to Koforidua. That also meant only 3 of 4 of us got to use the urinal at the station (which was by far the nicest urinal I've seen in Ghana, and in Kumasi no less). As far as exchanges in Kumasi go, this one was pretty painless. We were in Kumasi for well under an hour- success!
Back on the road, heading southeast towards Koforidua. It was a fairly uneventful few hours, except we passed the private PCV bus on the way! They didn't see us, but we were pretty thrilled we were making better time than their private car!
Right before Bunso College, there's a rest stop that tros usually stop at for a minute, called Linda Dor. As we were stoppped there, the PCV bus caught up to us, so we hopped out of our car and onto theirs, so we could get a ride all the way through the college campus to where we needed to be. It all worked out well, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. We arrived at Bunso before 4 PM- not bad! So from the start at TSO to the finish at Bunso, 11 hours.
On the way back, I knew the travel back up from the college to TSO would be painful, so I got a very early start that Monday after the conference was finished. I skipped breakfast and head out at 6:45 alone, since everyone's plans were scattered, made the decent trek out of the college to the main road to catch a car. I got a on a tro right when I got the to the road; at first I thought he was only going to the Linda Dor stop, and then from there I would pick an Nkawkaw or Kumasi car, but he ended up going all the way to Nkawkaw, so I stayed on the same tro for that 45 minute ride. I remembered from last year that I went from the college to the Linda Dor junction to get a car to Nkawkaw and then there got a car to Kumasi, so I just followed my steps again. Once in Nkawkaw, I got on a Kumasi car, waited about 20 minutes for it to fill, then we were on the road again.
About 1 1/2 hours later, we arrived in Kejetia- a huge mess of stations and vendors and buildings and tons of people everywhere. We arrived in Kumasi mid-morning which was perfect- rigt in-between the crazy, shitshow traffic jams of the morning and noon times. The car stopped at the other side of Kejetia than where I needed to be to catch the Tamale car, so I hauled myself to the other side of the station, which took about 10 minutes with the thousands of people everywhere. After what seemed like a much, much longer walk than what it should have been, I reached the Tamale cars. And somehow, again, I get the very last seat on the car that was filling, and as a bonus, Ran and Diana were already on the same car! I guess they had left the college a few minutes before me and somehow I caught up to them. I was very thankful to get this last seat on the car. I've waited up to two hours for this Kumasi-Tamale car to fill several times before, and that's not fun. I got crammed in the back row with the other PCVs, which was meant for three people, not the four they packed back there...so part of me was on the seat, part was in the empty spot between the seat and side of the car. But it was not the worst seat I've ever gotten, and I didn't have to wait at all for the car to leave, so that was fine by me. It was actually the most pleasant (if that word can even be used to describe anything about Kumasi) exchanges I've had in Kejetia ever. Normally everyone is yelling OBRONI and men reach out a grab your arm to get your attention (I'm just waiting for the one who grabs something other than my arm, I'm afraid of what will happen to him)...but this time I got none of that. I can only describe it as a miracle. Finally, people understood my "Don't f--- with me" face.
We left the station right away, at 10 AM; again, I was in Kumasi for as little time as possible, which is exactly how you should approach that shithole of a city that you just can't avoid when you're traveling between the north and south.
We stopped again at Kintampo, around one, and got into Tamale just before 4 PM. Total time under six hours- pretty good (longer rides I've had can take up to 7 hours, but its not nearly as bad as the 9 hours it used to be when the roads were much worse). Other PCVs also went from Bunso to Tamale that day but didn't come in until a few hours after the three of us. After a long day of travel, I crashed hard, then got up early again the next morning to get back to Bolga (again I got the last seat on the Tamale-Bolga car- pretty unusual luck for me to get on nearly-full cars; I usually get there right when the tro has filled and I end up being the first one on the second car that's leaving going to Bolga). I was back in Bolga around 10. Got food, did some shopping, post office, internet cafe...then back on the Kongo tro to home, never to make that trip south again for a very, very, very long time!
Traveling is the most dreaded activity here, next to hand washing our clothes and dishes. Ghana is about the size of Oregon, but with how long it takes to get anywhere, you would think it was as big as the entire West Coast. Really, all you can do is "hope for the best, prepare for the very worst."
Our All-Vol Conference started on a Thursday, so I left my house that Tuesday to get to the Tamale sub-office. To leave Kongo, I walk to the market square and either pick a tro-tro that's driving through Kongo to Bolga, or I hop on a Kongo car that's waiting in the market to fill. On days that I'm lucky, I catch a car as soon as I get to the road; on bad days, I can wait up to an hour for a tro to drive by with a spot open, or for the Kongo car to fill. Once in Bolga, I go get on a Tamale car. Usually when I want to get to Tamale, I leave my house as early as I can so I can get to Tamale by noon. I just hate making that 3-hour drive to Tamale after the middle of the day. Since a lot of Upper East volunteers were heading down to the sub-office before the conference also, I lucked out and got on the same tro as Lauren and Ran. Traveling with people is so much better than being alone- you have someone to talk to on the painfuly long drives, and you have other white people support once at your destination. Usually when I catch the Tamale car, I miss the first car out and I have to wait about an hour for the next one to fill. Only a lucky few times have I gotten one of the last seats available. Once in Tamale, you take a taxi to a place called Vittin Estates, which is just east of the main Tamale town off the Salaga road. You drop at the junction where there's a convenient corner provisions store, then walk a few hundred meters to the office.
Just like last year, All-Vol was held at Bunso Cocoa College, which is in the Eastern Region, about an hour west of Koforidua. So all of us staying at the Tamale sub-office had a long trek to make on Thursday. About 20 of the PCVs hired a private car to take them directly from the office to the college, but I didn't get on it in time, so I had to travel the normal way. But it worked out fine, I ended up traveling with Ryan, Lauren and Mary- an awesome group to make the trip with!
So there's several ways you can get from Tamale to Bunso: 1) take a Tamale-Kumasi car, then in Kumasi get a Koforidua car and drop early at the college (the car will drive right by the college on its way to Kof, so its pretty convenient); 2) take the Tamale-Accra bus, either early morning day bus or afternoon night bus, and drop early at the college (cars going to the south will pass by the college, so you just drop early). I decided to stick with what I know- take the Tamale-Kumasi car, then in Kumasi go to the Kof station to get a car. From Tamale to Kumasi, its about 6 hours, then Kumasi to Kof is about 4 hours, but dropping at the college makes it about 3 hours. So 9 hours of driving, but that doesn't include waiting for cars to fill, and the exchange in Kumasi. This all adds up to us getting a really early start.
Thursday morning we were up by 4:30 AM, out of the office by 5, got a taxi right away, and were at the station a few minutes later. We arrived at the station just in time to get on the first bus to Kumasi, we got the last 4 of 5 seats. I've never been able to catch that first car to Kumasi, I always am on the second small car to leave, so I was pretty excited! We took up most of the back row of the bus. Usually in big tro-tros, the last row of seats is the WORST, but this was a nice big bus, so the back was very roomy! For various reasons (people not on the bus, a big truck in our way) we don't leave the station until 6 AM. At this point the sun was just over the horizon- time to nap!
Cars going from Tamale to Kumasi (or anything in general going between the north and south) make one definite stop, for about 10-15 minutes, depending on the driver- at Kintampo. All other small stops are just for people to go pee on the side of the road; so essentially, this stop at Kintampo is the only one I get. This is the approximate halfway point between Tamale and Kumasi. There are decent restrooms, a few sit-down places to eat, and lots of bread, yams, fruit, fried yam and meat being sold. Sometimes I'll buy some bread to snack on, sometimes I'll buy some fried yams, because the hot pepe sauce that comes with it is so good!
We end up beating the private PCV bus to the Kintampo stop by about 10 minutes, so we crossed pathes for a few minutes. Then it was back on the road for the four of us, no stopping until Kumasi. We got to Kumasi about 12:30, and we dropped at Race Course to grab a taxi to the Kof station. (Race Course used to be a big, bustling station before I got to country, but it was torn down to build a hotel, so I've been told.) Again, we lucked out and got the very last seats on the car that was filling up to go to Koforidua. That also meant only 3 of 4 of us got to use the urinal at the station (which was by far the nicest urinal I've seen in Ghana, and in Kumasi no less). As far as exchanges in Kumasi go, this one was pretty painless. We were in Kumasi for well under an hour- success!
Back on the road, heading southeast towards Koforidua. It was a fairly uneventful few hours, except we passed the private PCV bus on the way! They didn't see us, but we were pretty thrilled we were making better time than their private car!
Right before Bunso College, there's a rest stop that tros usually stop at for a minute, called Linda Dor. As we were stoppped there, the PCV bus caught up to us, so we hopped out of our car and onto theirs, so we could get a ride all the way through the college campus to where we needed to be. It all worked out well, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. We arrived at Bunso before 4 PM- not bad! So from the start at TSO to the finish at Bunso, 11 hours.
On the way back, I knew the travel back up from the college to TSO would be painful, so I got a very early start that Monday after the conference was finished. I skipped breakfast and head out at 6:45 alone, since everyone's plans were scattered, made the decent trek out of the college to the main road to catch a car. I got a on a tro right when I got the to the road; at first I thought he was only going to the Linda Dor stop, and then from there I would pick an Nkawkaw or Kumasi car, but he ended up going all the way to Nkawkaw, so I stayed on the same tro for that 45 minute ride. I remembered from last year that I went from the college to the Linda Dor junction to get a car to Nkawkaw and then there got a car to Kumasi, so I just followed my steps again. Once in Nkawkaw, I got on a Kumasi car, waited about 20 minutes for it to fill, then we were on the road again.
About 1 1/2 hours later, we arrived in Kejetia- a huge mess of stations and vendors and buildings and tons of people everywhere. We arrived in Kumasi mid-morning which was perfect- rigt in-between the crazy, shitshow traffic jams of the morning and noon times. The car stopped at the other side of Kejetia than where I needed to be to catch the Tamale car, so I hauled myself to the other side of the station, which took about 10 minutes with the thousands of people everywhere. After what seemed like a much, much longer walk than what it should have been, I reached the Tamale cars. And somehow, again, I get the very last seat on the car that was filling, and as a bonus, Ran and Diana were already on the same car! I guess they had left the college a few minutes before me and somehow I caught up to them. I was very thankful to get this last seat on the car. I've waited up to two hours for this Kumasi-Tamale car to fill several times before, and that's not fun. I got crammed in the back row with the other PCVs, which was meant for three people, not the four they packed back there...so part of me was on the seat, part was in the empty spot between the seat and side of the car. But it was not the worst seat I've ever gotten, and I didn't have to wait at all for the car to leave, so that was fine by me. It was actually the most pleasant (if that word can even be used to describe anything about Kumasi) exchanges I've had in Kejetia ever. Normally everyone is yelling OBRONI and men reach out a grab your arm to get your attention (I'm just waiting for the one who grabs something other than my arm, I'm afraid of what will happen to him)...but this time I got none of that. I can only describe it as a miracle. Finally, people understood my "Don't f--- with me" face.
We left the station right away, at 10 AM; again, I was in Kumasi for as little time as possible, which is exactly how you should approach that shithole of a city that you just can't avoid when you're traveling between the north and south.
We stopped again at Kintampo, around one, and got into Tamale just before 4 PM. Total time under six hours- pretty good (longer rides I've had can take up to 7 hours, but its not nearly as bad as the 9 hours it used to be when the roads were much worse). Other PCVs also went from Bunso to Tamale that day but didn't come in until a few hours after the three of us. After a long day of travel, I crashed hard, then got up early again the next morning to get back to Bolga (again I got the last seat on the Tamale-Bolga car- pretty unusual luck for me to get on nearly-full cars; I usually get there right when the tro has filled and I end up being the first one on the second car that's leaving going to Bolga). I was back in Bolga around 10. Got food, did some shopping, post office, internet cafe...then back on the Kongo tro to home, never to make that trip south again for a very, very, very long time!
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