How did the chicken cross the road?

As the dry Harmattan season falls upon us, the roads in Ghana are becoming increasingly awash with stray animals trying to find scraps of food.  Discussion with a VSO friend tonight has made us decide that VSO motorbike training should include a section on how the animals cross the road…

Cow – if you are unlucky enough to be faced with a cow… beware.  A cow standing stationery on the road may all of a sudden decide that as you ride towards it, it really wants that specific piece of grass that happens to be across your path.  Or it might just stay still…

Either way, see a cow – slow down.

Donkeys – the thing about being as stubborn as a mule isn’t a joke.  Donkeys are stubborn.  They will cross if they want to, avoid you if they want to, and possibly run towards you if they feel like it.  Little ones like to lie on their backs in the middle of the road.  Rather cute, a little dangerous.

If you see a donkey… reverse.

Sheep – sheep are stupid.  If a sheep is crossing the road in front of you, chances are that it’s mother, father, sister, brother, cousin and great aunt will also be following.  Sheep like to do that – follow one another, like…erm… sheep.  If you beep at them, they will stop and look at you… and become even more of a hazard as they are confused as to whether to run away from you, towards you or just try and stare you out. 

So if you see a sheep, slow down, don’t bother beeping, and watch out for the rest of its village.

Goats – goats are significantly cleverer than sheep.  If you beep at a goat, it will move out of the way. 

The biggest problem is telling the difference between a sheep and a goat.  “What?!” I hear you ask – “difference between a sheep and a goat – isn’t that primary school knowledge?!”  It’s not.  Ask my sister, who spent several happy hours when she first visited saying “that one – is it a sheep or a goat… what about that one?”  The answer, I have discovered, is in the tail.  Stubby tail points up, it’s a goat.  Longer tail points down, it’s a sheep.  Probably.

So if you see something that looks like a goat… or a sheep… slow down.

Dogs – dogs are fast, but sometimes come from nowhere.  Dogs are in many ways one of the worse offenders as you have no idea where they’ve appeared from.  They also get scared quite easily, so may well cross your path, see something coming from the other direction and cross your path again.

So if you see a dog... get the brakes on fast.

Pigs – pigs are supposedly intelligent creatures.  My experience with pigs is that they might sometimes react to a horn, but rarely stray from their path.  So if you see a pig, it’ll almost certainly keep going.  Pigs seem to like moving in size order, so watch out for Big Pig, Medium Sized Pig and Very Little Pig following on behind Enormous Pig.

So if you see pigs – get behind the last one as they probably won’t turn back.  Probably.

Chickens – chickens are just suicidal.  There’s really no argument.  They see you coming and decide that they want to be run over… until you’re almost there, then they freak out, flap their wings everywhere then decide that now’s the time to see if they are capable of flying.  The good news is that if you hit a chicken, it will die and you might not notice.  So if you see a chicken, have space to brake and had a big lunch, try and avoid it.  If there’s something coming towards you or you just had a Coke, just keep on driving.

Guinea fowl – you thought chickens were stupid?  Then try guinea fowls.  They are the combination of the crazy chicken and village of sheep… also rather tasty.

Frogs – nice as it is to avoid a frog (well done Rachel!), it’s really not necessary to do an emergency stop when you see one.  Even if you thought it was a cat.

Teachers and teaching...

As you might imagine, the school system and everyone in it is a little different here to at home. Being a teacher is not a highly respected position, and many teachers, even those who have gone through 3 years of training, will often have their eye out for other employment opportunities.

There are many different grades of teacher in Ghana. Some are qualified, with a Bachelor of Education (BEd), Diploma in Basic Education (DBE) or an older, 3 or 4 year teaching qualification. Others are Teaching Assistants, National Service Volunteers or Volunteer Teachers. The latter three have little or no training and are often left in charge of a class, though they’ll ideally work alongside someone with a qualification. Some are doing a Sandwich Course, which, unfortunately for me, does not mean that the culinary opportunities in Bolga are to be improved, rather that they go to a local Teacher Training College during the school holidays for three or four years and end up with a DBE. Teachers can teach over 100 (which I’ve seen often) and rarely less than 50 children.

But how much does the training actually matter? What makes a good teacher?

One of the best teachers I’ve come across is a P2 teacher called Mary*. She’s in her early 30s and has been at the school for a number of years – I’m not sure how long but she’s always been around since I’ve been in Ghana. She is a wonderful and natural teacher. The children are well behaved, their grades improve steadily year on year and she has a lovely manner with them. She explains their mistakes to them (many teachers put red crosses); she tries new games and activities when they’re suggested; the work she gives them is age appropriate and the children are keen to learn. She is also rarely absent, which at many schools is quite unusual.

But Mary is not trained. She doesn’t have the Senior High School grades to qualify for Sandwich course, which means that for as long as she’s a teacher, she will be paid a minimal salary, not be able to go for promotion and probably not be allowed to teach in the upper school.

Education and its value have clearly gone up the political agenda in recent times. Universal basic education (Primary and Junior High School) is free though not accessible to all due to costs of uniforms, books etc. The government gives a capitation grant for schools. The grant pays for sports days, some school equipment, any cultural events. Teachers are paid separately to this. At present at primary schools in Ghana, capitation grant is Ghc4 per child per year. Translated into £, that is £1.60 at the present rate of exchange, and almost half of this is used to pay exam fees. So less than £1 for the school to spend on each child’s education each year. Compare this to Scotland where children and teachers never need worry about having enough books, materials, sports equipment, musical instruments or even school dinners. (If anyone knows what the capitation per child is in Scotland/England, I’d like to know – Dad thought about £40?)

Another comparison is the government spending figures – again hard to compare, but in Scotland, an estimated £156.9 million on “Learning” and a further £2,426.7 million on higher and further education, SAAS and Lifelong learning. There are approximately 1.5 million school age children in Scotland. Even just taking the “Learning” figure, that’s £105 per child.

In comparison in Ghana, 23.8 million Ghana Cedis – that’s about £10 million spent on educating 7.4 million children – so about £1.35 per child.

I don’t believe a good teacher has to have 5 computers, an interactive whiteboard and every colour of paint under the sun in their classroom. A good teacher will teach well with minimal resources. But what Ghana really needs is the resources, in every school, for the average teacher to teach well. School Performance Improvement Plans (SPIPs) in Ghana are full of good ideas, but 95% of activities cannot be carried out without money. Ghana is now a “middle income” country, but go into any school in northern Ghana and this is incredibly hard to believe.

And as for my friend Mary…? If she lives out the rest of her career in the same school, teaching P2, the school will remain lucky to have her. She and her husband will continue to send their children to school, and maybe those children will go on to finish Senior High and get some more formal qualifications. I’ll continue to think of ways to help her improve as a teacher and one day perhaps get the qualification she deserves.

Some sources I’ve borrowed from:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Education_in_Scotland

http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/ghana_statistics.html

http://Ghana.gov.gh/documents/2011budget.pdf

http://www.scotland.gov.uk/Publications/2010/11/17091127/10

How much do you help?

Our night watchman was a bit tipsy last night. Not highly drunk, perfectly easy to talk to, but he’d certainly had a drink or two. He was not so pleased when I handed him Ghc8, Ghc2 less than he was expecting. He’d not turned up for a couple of nights, or if he had, he’d arrived after 11pm and left before 5.30am, which is also completely unacceptable.

But how much do you help? Our watchman is not the best. He has a drink problem, certainly. He normally turns up, rain or shine, every single day. He’s normally sober enough to do the job. We pay a pittance, but it’s the going-rate pittance that all night watchmen get, and it doesn’t stop him from doing other work in the day… if he can be bothered. He often turns up late and leaves pretty early, hasn’t done the garden as he’s sick which means that there’s a small risk of snakes, and a bigger risk of mosquitoes and bugs living in our compound. I’m not sure how sick he is – he had a small operation a month ago. He is normally paying back a loan from us for something or other – a bicycle once, this time “seeds” which I think was actually dowry money for his wife, a poor 18 year old who was probably given no choice about marrying this man twice her age.

Our neighbours, fellow volunteers, have a night watchman too. He gets paid a little bit more. He comes at dusk and stays until dawn. He is absent more often, but always tells them in advance, or gets his son to, and has never once asked for a loan. He tends the garden and keeps himself to himself.

There are lots of men who would love the chance of an extra Ghc35 each month to buy food for their family. Should the job belong to someone else?

Yet still I feel bad for taking Ghc2 from our man. I know I don’t often mention religion, but I keep thinking what would Jesus do? Taking Ghc2 from this man means that he might not be able to eat for a few days. However, it also gives him less money to drink. If he was working for a Ghanaian family, he’d be long gone, and we’ve been told by Ghanaians that he takes advantage of our niceness. Would Jesus have given him some money?

Shortly after our troubles, our friend Louis (a Ghanaian) spoke to him, I think threatening that we were looking for someone else to fill his position. Our watchman improved… for a while… then he brought a lady into the compound (his wife? not sure!) and got another Ghc5 off his pay.

Will we ever sack him? I don’t know. He’s attendance is almost perfect, he does a good job of cleaning the bins and always has a smile on his face. Because he doesn’t really do much other work, he’s around a lot, a deterrent to thieves and it’s nice to know someone’s around at night.

Just another part of the Ghana experience!

Small hills, big mountains

Success!

One of the things you realise when doing something like a VSO placement is that you’re not going to change the world – because if it could be changed that easily, why hasn’t it happened yet.

However, the other day, I had what I can only describe as a very surprisingly successful day. In order to explain it, you need to know a few things about workshops in Ghana and how they work.

If teachers are invited to a workshop, they will normally receive either lunch or a snack, or a snack and lunch if it’s an all day event, a mineral (soft drink) and water. This is provided by the organisers; participants pay nothing. The organisers are also expected to pay T and T – travel and time. This can vary from Ghc5 to Ghc10 normally, and I’ve heard a case of some giving as as much as Ghc35 for one day’s work. (£1=Ghc2.40)

In early 2010, I wanted to do a series of 1 hour workshops at one of my schools, but not provide any snack (one hour doesn’t honour a snack in my miserly opinion) and no T and T (the workshops were during the day at the school). When I told the Head this (let’s call her Janet – she’s not!), she was not very pleased, until her depute said “she is helping us, why should she pay us!”

Earlier this year, I organised another workshop at her school. This time, 3 other schools came along too, and I did give them mineral, snack and water as it was a 2 hour affair (I’m not that mean.) I gave T and T to the other 3 schools, as they’d all had to travel a fair distance, but not to the host school – all they were providing was an empty room, so I thought that was fair enough. At the end, several teachers from the host school and the head asked about T and T but I explained my reasoning. The head seemed ok with it, I think I annoyed some of the teachers a little.

The other day – another workshop, for 3 schools, same host school. The head teacher 1. willingly provided school funds for the workshop for snacks – first time in any school; 2. did not ask about T and T – and in fact seemed highly understanding about it and 3. thanked me over and over for coming. Success!

The workshop was on phonics, and was a real success – lots of games and teachers knowing their stuff MUCH better than a year ago. = Happy Rachel.

A sad day at a school...

I went in to one of my schools last week to support two of the teachers. The head came along to say that she was off to a funeral as someone in the community had died yesterday, and that she and some of her teachers were going to attend. The young man was father to two children at the school, and uncle and guardian of some others. He was a well educated man, with some money, and clearly a pillar of the community.

I was in P3 when we saw hundreds and hundreds of people coming down the dirt track to the makeshift church – a building without a roof which is also home to two P1 classes. Men, women, old, young, on motorbikes, bikes, in cars, going to pay their respects to this young father who had died so tragically.

I spoke to one of the teachers, an intelligent lady in her 50s, the depute head and teacher in P2, about what had happened. “He was coming home from town,” she said, “and an insect stung him in the neck. He was taken to hospital, but he just died. So we think it must be witches, how else would a healthy young man die from that.” Sadly, this response didn’t surprise me, a common belief being that witches are responsible for all sorts of misfortune. Initially, I thought it was only those with traditional beliefs that believed in witchcraft, but actually the majority of Ghanaians do still believe, even the most orthodox of Christians or Muslims. “Perhaps he was allergic to bees or wasps,” I suggested. “Many people don’t realise until they are stung or bitten that they are allergic.” “But he died quickly, how?” the teachers asked. I explained that if allergic, your tongue can swell up and you just can’t breathe anymore, and that although the adrenaline they give you is not a complicated drug, if you don’t take it fast enough, it’s too late.”

I hope that perhaps my explanation will slightly change what those teachers believe but I doubt it.

One wonderful woman I’ve met is Mama Laadi. She runs a foster home for children who have been accused of being witches, or those whose mothers have been accused and often killed. She’s taken in many children that no-one else cares one bit about, or are scared to care about.

I hope the family is able to understand this man’s death and seeks some solace from the church, as many people do; and that there is soon a greater understanding of medicine in these rural parts of Africa so that innocent women and girls, and men and boys, are not punished unjustly.

A trip to the doctor

One of the not-so-good things about being in Ghana is what it does to your health. Luckily, I’ve been much well-er this year than last, and, fortunately, much less sick than a lot of friends. (I hope I’ve not just jinxed my future wellbeing!)

A friend was sick yesterday, so, after a little convincing, we went to the doctor for her to get checked out. By the time we went it was 3pm, and it had been raining earlier, so I had hoped that things would be quieter and fortunately they were.

3.15pm - On arrival at the clinic, you put your card in a box and wait. Everyone has a card with their details on it that the clinic use to find your file. So long as the person with the key has come and opened the room that your file happens to be in that is… Luckily for us the room was open yesterday (unlike another friend’s experience recently). Your file details your name, date of birth, age (apparently I’ll be 26 forever!), religion (“None” is not an option as a friend discovered…) and then any investigations they do. We sit and play Yatzee!

3.45pm - My friend was given her file.

3.55pm – We joined the queue for being weighed and blood pressure. This is done in the reception area surrounded by other people – who said privacy was important?!

4.05pm – We then joined the queue to see the doctor. The last time I was here, this queue was over 20 people long and took well over an hour. This time, the queue was decidedly shorter, but didn’t really have a start or end… My friend was seen after a 5 minute or so wait. I start playing Yatzee with a young man – I don’t think he understood it but we played a game.

4.15pm – Lab tests. Pretty much anytime you go to the doctor, they send you for lab tests for malaria, typhoid and goodness knows what else. Yesterday, the lab had run out of the solution they needed to test for anything other than malaria. We almost give up and go home!

4.45pm – Lab test results are given. You then join the queue to see the doctor again to interpret the results (medical practitioners the world over must be given training in illegible handwriting). A male nurse comes and chats to me.

4.55pm – Malaria +1 diagnosis. This is not as bad as it sounds, and, God-willing (as Ghanaians would say) it should clear up after 3 days of drugs.

5.00pm – Go to the pharmacy in the clinic to collect and pay for the drugs. Try and ask the pharmacist any questions about these strong drugs you’re about to put in your body and they will be highly offended – I think it’s like questioning their professional judgement.

5.05pm – Go back to the doctor to get a prescription for the drugs so that she can claim back from VSO.

5.10pm – Leave the clinic.

A less-than two hour turnaround is pretty exceptional in Bolga, and normally a trip to the doctor takes an entire morning.

Fingers crossed I will continue to be strong, God-willing!

Laylo......(cue guitar riff...)

We have a cat. He is called Laylo.

It wasn’t quite my intention to end up with a pet in Ghana. However, cat-sitting a very tiny kitten turned into looking after a slightly bigger kitten. Now the kitten adopter has left (thanks Vic!) we have Laylo. It’s not like Vic forced us to keep him – I for one was getting a bit attached anyway, so I/we decided to look after him for a wee while, only a small reason being that we were slightly concerned if he went to a Ghanaian family he might end up as dinner as their previous two cats had (both, ironically, named “Wish”).

Laylo is a slightly odd name for a cat, I know. Originally, Laylo was Layla, but after a visit from Laura, fellow VSOer and vet, we discovered his true sex. Now he is normally referred to as Laylo and him, though occasionally, also quite Ghanaianally, he is she. (Even people in the education office get he/she mixed up a lot of the time.)

Poor Laylo has made an enemy in our garden L. Godwin (our night watchman and the cause of many a trouble!) is keeping guinea fowl chicks and a hen in the garden (but a chicken hen, I think – apparently they often do that as guinea fowls aren’t good at looking after their own chicks). Laylo is terrified of the hen! She has the cheek to come and eat his rice, then looks at him with a bit of an evil look in her eye, squawks, spreads her wings and poor Laylo runs inside.

I keep explaining to Laylo that the “nasty hen lady” is a bird and really Laylo should just attack her, but my reasoning doesn’t work. Maybe I should try Frafra.

I explained Laylo the scaredy cat to a friend, who thought Laylo small pathetic – until she came face to face with said hen (we were trying to help a chick that she had left behind) so now she is in sympathy with Laylo. However, my main problem is that the hen keeps eating Laylo’s food. I’ve started to leave Laylo outside during the day, and kept coming back to a totally empty bowl – before discovering it was the nasty hen lady stealing the food. Then I made a barricade with the washing bowls so that she can’t chop Laylo’s food and knock over his water. That didn’t work as my barricade was pretty pathetic, so now his food is high high up and safe I hope!