Peta Hall, February 2010

I have been a volunteer with Village Volunteers for three years, I have worked in Kpando and Atorkor, Ghana. In Kpando I established a womens cooperative, Dzidefo, (meaning "there is hope" in Ewe.) The 10 women make beautiful colourful toddlers clothing, and home accessories using 100% Ghanaian cotton that is batik printed by Claudia in the village. Our website will be live soon! This will give us an even bigger window on the world!

I am now working with Village Volunteers and the Atorkor Development Foundation to bring a Centre to the village of Atorkor. The fishing industry, the main source of income, has been crippled by off shore trawlers. However, there is a nucleus of artisans working there, so we are hoping to build a Centre there with 3 large workshops training women and the youth in batik, kente weaving, glass bead making, ironwork and woodwork. The centre will bring employment to about 90 people when it is fully operational. It will make a huge difference to the economy of the area.
Throughout my working in Ghana I have had the unflinchingly dedicated support of Village Volunteers. I have worked with other NGO's so have had experience with some that are non-professional, careless, and unreliable. I cannot stress how impressed I am with VV. They should be THE MODEL for every volunteer organization! It should be the way every volunteer organization operates, with thought, care, deep commitment and such service. Their profound belief in humanity spreads throughout every sector of their work, and organization. Truly they are the best, their dedication is phenomenal.

Brett Weiss, July 2009

Would I recommend other people take the journey I just took? My quick answer is yes however I would have to say realistically that this is not for everyone. In fact for most of my life I did not think it was for me. While it was something I always had an interest in doing I never really thought I would do it.

I had to reach a point in my life where I was ready and willing to commit myself to making this trip and prepare myself mentally, physically, and emotionally and to buy all the “things” I needed for my trip and make all the travel plans. I am not an “outdoors” person and I think most of the people who make trips like this consider themselves outdoors people. I had to learn quite a bit about being an outdoors person to deal with this journey.

If one wants to do this kind of a trip one has to be ready to be very flexible and open to anything and everything. If someone does not think they can be this flexible, they should not even consider a trip like this. Another key point is that you cannot make a trip like this if you are going to get caught up in judgments.

I know each of us in our own way makes judgments…it is only human. However on a trip like this we have to do our best to put them on hold as judging people will take away what you can learn from them and we all can learn a great deal from each other, regardless of our financial status in life.

Another point I would make here is that one has to realize one person’s limitations. I do believe that the main way we make the world a better place is one person at a time taking actions that help other people. Thus if one makes a trip like this you need to be realistic about your impact. You need to realize that if you can do one thing to help out this kind of poverty that is a wonderful thing. Just think if everyone who is able does something this next week to help poverty….the world would be dramatically improved.

It was a thrill and an honor for me to have made this trip. There are so many people for me to thank. First, Village Volunteers out of Seattle, WA was the agency I made this trip through. They were incredibly helpful to me and were very patient with the many questions I would ask them either via email or over the phone. I could not have asked for more in the agency I chose to make this trip with. Shana Greene and her staff are wonderful and I would recommend to anyone who wants to make a trip like this to do it through them. Just go to www.villagevolunteers.org to get all the information you need.

Duncan and Pamela and their wonderful family who were our hosts were incredible. I could not have asked for more. They did everything and more to make me feel welcome and comfortable. They are truly wonderful and genuine people who are doing amazing things to try to help the people of Kenya. They are true heroes in a world where many people are called heroes but few really meet the definition. Duncan and Pamela are the real thing.

Wendy and Cindy and their home in Nairobi. They were wonderful in helping me trough my first and last nights in Kenya. They were full of class and were incredible hosts.

I thank everyone I met in Kenya who was so warm and wonderful. There will always be a special place in my heart for the people of Kenya and especially the people of Dago and the children in the Dago orphanage and at the Dago School. I will never forget them and they will be a part of everything I do in both my personal and work life.

Jessica Warner July 2009

After my trip to Ghana in July and August of 2009 I have fallen in love. I travelled and lived
in the village of Kpando, living and volunteering at Ryvanz-Mia Orphanage. I was also lucky
enough to teach at two of the schools in the village: Delta school and Miracle Preparatory
School. I brought YOM (Youth Outreach Mentors written by Devon De Leña) with me to teach
and found the curriculum to be a success for the village.

At Ryvanz-Mia I was adored and cared for with the utmost respect. Every morning there was
a breakfast of eggs and bread or oats with tea or Milo. The kids and the volunteers would walk
to school together; these walks were a joy in themselves. On one rainy morning in particular I
walked outside to find all the kids dressed up in bright colorful ponchos. It was a silly memory.
I’d teach in the morning at Delta School. I was the teacher for P2 level. I tried to bring YOM
to the school, but I was having difficulty making things happen with the headmaster. I instead
taught math, French, English, geography, etc. Anything I could bring to the classroom was
helpful.

At lunch time I traveled to my second school: Miracle Prep School, where I taught YOM. The
headmaster at Miracle was a delight to work for. He was very enthusiastic about my curriculum
and made everything work out that I wished. We ended up putting together a group of 17
students and 2 teachers that were open to learning about HIV/AIDS. My students all passed
their tests, and I granted each with a button: “Ask me about HIV/AIDS.” They loved the buttons
and I think this was a great gift to contribute to the students in the end of their studies.
At Ryvanz-Mia Orphanage, I helped out with cooking dinner for the volunteers and cleaning up
afterwards. I mostly played with the kids when they returned from school every day. I brought
Twister which was loved by all and was a fun afternoon game.

My trip to Ghana was an amazing success. I loved every day of it and was so thankful to have
done all that I did. The children at Ryvanz-Mia and all my students have left an imprint on my
heart forever. I plan to visit them again one day, as soon as I can.
Lastly, I wrote a poem while there, that I thought I’d share:

I love the SOUND of an African night. It's loud enough to make music. Crickets are chirping,
frogs are croaking, bats are screeching. Drums can be heard from afar. Families are quiet
because dinner has finally been prepared. It is just loud enough, to close your eyes, and be
content with what your ears bring to you.

I love the VIEW of an African night. A setting sun paints the sky with pinks, blues, and yellows.
Stars appear quickly, twinkling 'star light, star bright.' Fireflies illuminate the bush and you can
only imagine what is roaming around in the dark. Palm trees are faint shadows. The red dirt of
the day is now black and unpredictable. Children's eyes become droopy, it is time for bed.
I love the FEEL of an African night. The warm winds are changing cooler to please a salty face.
The sun ceases to burn into my fair and tan-lined skin. The balmy breeze is enough to rock me
to sleep.

I love the SMELL of an African night. It is almost as if the sun has left her scent amongst the
earth. Charcoal stoves are smoking from a long days work. Cassava leaves smashed into
banku and okra stew served for dinner. Soapy dishes for washing and soapy children cleaned
for sleep.

I love the TASTE of an African night. It is unknown to the world, yet home for its people. Few
strangers can accept the beauty it holds. For these few hold an entirely new beat in their hearts,
for Mother Africa has blessed another with her wise grace.

Ghana: My Second Home

After spending a month in the village of Have, Ghana, my departure was highly emotional. I had become so close with one particular family that leaving them tore my heart in two.

My new sister Salomé often prepared a variety of local dishes for me with incredible care, a voluntary gesture since my meals were already provided for. It was over those meals on her porch where she, her husband Emmanuel and I shared cultural insight, dreams, desires and a whole lot of laughter. These were treasured experiences that grew into a valuable friendship.

After dinner, I’d play clapping games with the children and, one night, I judged thier dance contest to the tune of Jingle Bells chirping from a cell phone. Before leaving, I also had the chance to paint with the children who produced some beautiful watercolors (thanks to the gifts left by volunteer Denise Ward). There was nothing better than spending time with these little gems. Their curiosity was insatiable. I'll never forget the day Kofi (in the stripes) was holding my hand and, when I wasn't looking, quickly stuck my fingernail between his teeth and bit down. I never knew what to expect but they all made me laugh at every turn.

Through it all, I was accompanied by Jimmy, my 16 year old friend who met me in the morning, went with me to work, walked me home for lunch and guided me down the dark paths at night. I would let him practice typing on my laptop so he, in return, typed me a language guide in Ewe (pronounced Ay-way). Jimmy was one of my favorite companions and will always be my little brother.

My only comfort from the sorrow of departing my new family stemmed from the ways in which they had become so tightly woven into the fabric of my being. They had changed me forever, become a full-fledged part of me. We have shared several phone conversations since my return to the US and I’ll be looking into a cheaper calling plan to always keep in touch.

I had the opportunity to engage with several programs while in Have. My first day, when told to rest and “feel free,” I asked instead to help in the tea house. There I immediately learned the greatest lesson of all time. Before lunch, a young boy named Julius taught me to glue boxes together and afterward, I learned to pack them. The more I thought of productivity and profit, eager to help as soon as possible, I’d all-too-quickly cram the tea bags into my box. The end result was that some didn't fit and I would have to start over. Watching Salomé work with patience, grace and pride in the end product, I tried to emulate her style and found that it went a great deal further. Slow as that process may have first appeared, it was twice the pace I had been keeping.

Regardless of my learning curve, Salomé never lost her patience with me. Instead she would nod her head and say with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses, “Good! You are trying!” I had thought my technique was improving and that “You are trying” meant that I was getting better. I was wrong. It wasn’t until heaps of teabags were placed from the bin into my lap without comment that I knew I had finally found my stride. The prize was drinking that very tea for breakfast the following morning.

With that lesson under my belt, I took it to the farm at EDYM Village the following day. There I spent most of my days sitting on a log weeding the newly sown lawn installed to avoid erosion in front of the new office building, tending to the clean-up of the nursery by clearing out old seedlings that never took, recycling the plastic planters for reseeding, and preparing recycled water sachets for more plantings by tediously cutting holes in them with a dull, double-edged razor. By the fourth day I brought 4 pair of scissors from my bag of school donations. Here I offered my own lesson: Sometimes patience and tenacity can use a bit of mechanical help.

Inspired by the recycling of the water sachets from the farm, I met with local chiefs, a queen mother, three linguists and  advisors. In conjunction with Denise Ward, a nutritionist volunteering at the clinic, we were able to deliver a message about the dangers of plastic whether it be leaching toxicities into food (as in the way hot porridge is served to the children in plastic sachets), polluting the air when burned in the trash heaps, or littering the landscape when scattered among the streets. On my behalf, she talked about placing recycling bins throughout town (perhaps even decorated with slogans and murals by the children), reusing the sachets as exemplified on the farm, and her own message emphasizing the pride that local people should feel in the healthy food they grow themselves rather than aspiring to the appearance of wealth by buying unhealthy processed foods that come in plastic.

The chiefs had a great deal of questions on topics such as freezing vs. heating food in plastic and they chuckled in agreement about the ways in which certain products indicate wealth, not health. Overall, they were grateful for the insight and the care with which it was delivered. They then offered to spread this message to all the surrounding areas of Have. It was the most amazing and productive hour of my entire month.

After our message was delivered, Denise and I were taken outside where the linguists ceremoniously poured libations into the earth in our honor. Returning inside once more, we were asked to drink gin (at 11 in the morning, eh!) from a communal glass and our wrists were then decorated with a bracelet and scented powder to symbolize peace. It was wonderful to see that some traditional rituals had survived a widespread erasure of culture in the name of Western beliefs.

As for the last few items on my list of my duties, I’d classify them under the field of education. I had planned to assist with the RC Primary School kindergarten class all month, but Paul Kpai, EDYM’s program director, was away for two weeks and unable to properly introduce me to the school officials. By the time he returned, exams had begun and we decided it might be a distraction for me to embark on this task at such time.

I learned just how distracting a visiting white person could be when I delivered 70 pounds of school supplies donated by family and friends (the other 50 lbs. of medicine and books were distributed to the library and clinic). I was greeted with the most beautiful smiling faces eager to see what I brought as well as the images of themselves on my digital camera. Interestingly, after the children burst into song, touching my skin and holding my hands, I learned that they were eager to see me too. (I invite you to watch the video of my visit with the children.)

Spending a day at the library, I helped to clean the shelves after a termite infestation had destroyed a number of the books. EDYM's Director, Paul Kpai, had already arranged for the fumigation but the clean-up was now underway. It was a stinky and tedious job until Felix arrived and we had a few good laughs. He and I had already said some difficult goodbyes at the farm after I had worked with him nearly every weekday. It was through him that I learned a great deal about the customs practiced in the region. Seeing him at the library just before I left was not only a pleasant surprise but a real treat.

Volunteer Maia Warchol, a librarian from Maryland, organized the books into their Dewey Decimal categories and catalogued them into lists. I then labeled the books by section (from children’s books to a young adult section to adult fiction) and replaced them on the shelves. Together with the young boys from the village, Jimmy, Fidel, Sampson and Richard, we finished a large portion of this task just in time for a meeting of school headmasters in which decisions were made on how to sustainably fund the library’s electrical bills and pay for the services of a librarian.

Lastly, I had asked Jimmy and his friend Christian to collect discarded water sachets from the school yard where a full day of sports had ensued earlier in the week. (I bribed them, of course, giving away Mini Mag Lights as incentive.) Not only did they come back with plenty to recycle at the farm, they also had cleaned up what trash had been left to fly around for days. I had been asking any villagers I knew to save their personal sachets for seedlings but the response was next to nil. Thanks to Jimmy and Christian, there were enough bags to do an entire planting.

Then, just before I left, I was approached by Raymond, one of the teachers at the school. He came to me in the morning before work to delivered three water sachets. For two weeks, when I’d ask if he remembered, he told me that he had not. That day he said, “It has taken me some time to change my thinking. No volunteer before has asked to recycle these. Today I remembered. Please, take them.” I had never been so happy to accept a piece of trash in my life.

For fun, I spent weekends touring the Brong Ahafo, Northern, Central and Volta Region. Gunadiish, the in country coordinator, and his assistants Eric and Raymond (yes, the teacher) were fantastic guides and, more importantly, we became friends. Between them all, as well as the gift of a personal tour from Paul Kpai, I fed monkeys, saw elephants, warthogs and fields of antelope. I also visited the Mystic Stone and the oldest mosque in West Africa. I hiked up the top of Gemi Mountain, over the hills of Tano Sacred Grove, through the rainforest and over the network of rope bridges in Kakum National Park. I stood under two gorgeous and very different waterfalls, Wli and Kintampo, and basked in the sun on the ocean shore of Cape Coast. The guides at both the Elmina and Cape Coast slave castles gave two very distinct tours so I had no regrets about spending time at both. I also saw the large, old, pained tree at the slave center near Techiman where I cried as I heard the story of what had taken place there. Finally, during my last day in Ghana, I went to the Accra Art Center and took two drumming lessons. I played until my hands moved beyond pain and well into numbness. I bought a DVD from my teacher and drum to take home so I could continue without killing myself. Overall, I could never choose one tour over another. They were each special and awe inspiring in their own way (and with a different brand of travel adventure for each, to be sure).

I also did a bit of exploring on my own. On my independently arranged mini-tour, Paul’s wife, Comfort, took me to Kpandu to visit the fishermen at the river, the grotto’s Stations of the Cross, the Fesi potters, wood carvers and to buy batik fabric. As an added bonus, we stopped off at the secondary school where the children there care for a crocodile. Jimmy also took me up the mountain behind my house to see the village of Have from above one morning. It was a spectacular sight under the fresh morning mist, leaves glistening in the gentle rain.

My last evening in the village is one that I hold dear to my heart. A gorgeous dinner was held in my honor (made by Salomé) and I was presented with the special hand-woven Kenta sash that all volunteers working in Have receive. I had known to expect that from reading previous volunteers’ blogs, but it was a delightful surprise when I received two for taking part in activities to do with both the school and the farm. Paul also presented me with a wood carving of The Thinker so that I would always remember Have and, in return, I presented both him and Emmanuel with wood carvings to remember me by. We took tons of photos and I was tearful in just about every one. The gifts were lovely but the people were what I really wanted to take home. I love them all. 

What was most special that night was the shimmering blue, sleeveless dress that Salomé had made for me. It had a matching bracelet to go with it. This was certainly not part of the protocol so I was unbelievably moved. After the party, she walked me home where we hugged, cried and couldn’t bring ourselves to say good-bye. Salomé suggested that she bring breakfast to me in the morning and walk me to the tro-tro so we could simply say “goodnight for now.”

I was leery of trying the dress on in front of Salomé in case it didn’t fit, afraid of disappointing either one of us, but once she left I couldn’t wait. I quickly undressed and snapped it down over my head. It was absolutely perfect.

The following morning, along with Jimmy and Raymond, Salomé arrived in her own blue dress of the same fabric. I ate, did my last packing and asked them to wait outside for just a minute. Quickly, I dug my dress out and slipped it over my head. Making my appearance outside, I asked Salomé, “How did you make this to fit so perfectly??” She had never taken my measurements. Salomé smiled devilishly and said, “The clothes you left for the church... I measured those.” I asked her to accept my favorite hat and scarf in return, the only things I had left to give that were American. We took pictures together saying that she and I even matched like sisters now.

I knew when I left that I had been deeply affected by this place, its people, its culture, but I was never so sure of it than when I returned home. There were the small things, of course, like being startled each time my spigot produced hot water, or any water for that matter. It also took time to instinctively trust my tap water when brushing my teeth, automatically reaching for a water bottle that wasn’t there. What affected me most though was the independence, excess and the attitudes of entitlement I was confronted with immediately after landing back in the US. I had become spoiled with the Ghanaians' unending generosity, humility and the empowerment that comes from being a necessary ingredient to the full function of the community rather than a disposable or interchangeable cog in a capitalist machine. I was tied directly to my labor, knew my place, and felt wholly appreciated. My entire experience, a culmination of things both great and small, was an incredible gift.

For more on my travels, please visit my personal blog. 

Kim Clune
East Nassau, New York, USA
EDYM Village, Have Library and RC Primary School
July 7 – August 2, 2008