WEST AFRICA: 2010

I arrive to the town of Ho, the capital of the Volta Region, with my jaw hanging wide open. I’m definitely not in the city anymore, and the stark difference between Accra and Ho is nothing short of mind blowing. Instead, I find myself in the middle of rural Africa, enveloped by mountains, banana trees, and lush green forests. People are walking for miles along the barren highway, which is their only visable means of transportation. Around me are mud huts, thatched roofs, and dusty red roads that lead further and further away from the 21^st century.   

Ho is home to the Ewe (pronounced “Eh-veh”), which is both the language and the people of the Volta region. The Ewe are accomplished agriculturists, known for, amongst other things, their expert cultivation of yams. The annual yam festival, celebrated in September, is most certainly the highlight of their calendar year.  

I know what you’re thinking. “Yams? Why, they are delicious!!!” Yeah...I thought that, too. But sadly, the African yam is not the sweet, orange sort we enjoy back home. No. They are white. And starchy. And completely tasteless. They are more akin to a common potato, rather than anything that warrants melted butter and marshmallow topping. In Ghana, they are pounded into a thick, gelatinous paste to make fufu- a steaming bowl of yam balls submerged in a spicy meat soup, and eaten entirely by hand. It is a most unfortunate turn of events, I assure you.  

One of my many downfalls in life, and most particularly in relation travel, is that I’m a finicky eater. I’m not fond of trying new foods, and I incessantly resist eating the local cuisine of the places I visit. Like fufu. Yes, I have some issues. But, my biggest difficulty yet, is that when I am in this part of the world, or any place outside of my own country for that matter, I absolutely, flat out, refuse to eat meat. While I can’t say exactly where my aversion to foreign meat stems from, I can tell you, vaguely, that it has to do with some disturbing things I’ve seen over the years in my travels, like grossly slaughtered animals, severed goat heads, lack of refrigeration, and unsanitary conditions. So for those reasons and more, I stay away. Instead, I favor packaged foods, bread, and fresh produce- if I can find them. Yesterday, for example, I ate three crackers along with an orange soda for lunch, and for dinner- it was two small carrots and a handful of peanuts, all of which I went to great lengths to acquire. I don't mean to suggest that there's no food in Ghana, because the people who live here are perfectly happy with their fufu and goat meat. I'm only saying there's no food in Ghana that I want to eat, nor is it their responsibility to provide me with any.  

However, I do not wish to complain about my hunger. It is temporary. Instead, I continually bear in mind that every single day, one billion people in the world go hungry, even though there is more than enough food to go around. And, of the Earth’s population of nearly 6.7 billion, 40% of all human beings live on less than $2 per day. Here in Ghana, however, that number is doubled, with 80% of all Ghanaians surviving on this amount! And, even more difficult to comprehend, is that 45% of the nation’s population exists on less than $1 a day. When you take a moment to reflect on such matters, my discomfort here is trivial. There will be plenty of pizzas and burritos in my future, I can promise you that. I just wish the same could be said for everyone.                                             

The volunteer work I’m doing in the region is directly associated with poverty, and this appeals to me. I get to go into the villages, and prepare small-scale farmers to receive micro-financing. This is where a very small loan is made to an individual, who, because of their extreme level of poverty and lack of assets, would not otherwise qualify for a traditional bank loan. These loans allow people to pursue self-employment projects that generate income, and allow them to care for themselves and their families.  

I should probably mention that I have no previous experience in microfinance whatsoever. When I learned of my assignment, I freaked out for about five minutes, then I promptly bought myself some books on the subject and read them. I learned a lot, and was able to bring myself up to speed on what I needed to know. And so, as the sole volunteer, I have been appointed to six different farming communities. Many of the villages are located hours away from one another, which in itself, is quite an adventure! Sometimes, I must get out of the car  where the road ends, and then travel by foot until I reach the area. It is very hot outside, often over 100 degrees.

Once arrived, and the appropriate greetings and introductions have been made, I administer a simple questionnaire I have designed to help assess the specific micro-credit needs for each group. I also conduct a group discussion. How large is the village? Who is their chief? What level of poverty are they at currently? Which crops do they grow? What assets might they possess? How many chickens do they own? What are the concerns and challenges of the group?  Do they require health insurance, or micro-insurance policies for their goats or their yams??? 

Naturally, the vast majority of the community members do not read or write. Most do not speak much English, but only the local dialect of Ewe. And so, I simply take my time. I sit down, with each person, and with the aid of an interpreter, I help them fill out their form. For me, its the most gratifying part of the work I do in Ghana.  

When a person later receives their first round of financing, typically in the range of, say- $50, they will likely be well below the poverty level, and this amount of money can be life changing. These are people with ideas, plans, hopes and dreams, who are anxious to do something more with their lives, but have not been afforded the opportunity.  

Ironically, most recipients of microfinance pay back their loan at a percentage much higher than traditional borrowers. And there is good incentive. Once they have, they then qualify for a second round of funding, usually twice as much as the first. At this point, they are starting to see profits, and are able to feed their families. And, after they have repaid the second loan, they receive a third, also double the previous. By the time they have repaid that loan, they are not only seeing profits, but are ideally doing quite well for themselves. Micro-finance proves itself as a sustainable method to help lift people out of the cycle of poverty, so that they, and their families, can live dignified lives.  

When I’m not working, I usually relax at the Freedom Hotel, which is my home in Ho. My room is surprisingly comfortable, and has a television with 3 channels-- a tremendous luxury. I go running here, which is a surreal experience. Often, I get lost, which makes me nervous when I am low on drinking water. I attempt to take mental notes such as: turn left at the mango tree, right near the goats; without realizing that all the roads look the same, there are many mango trees, and the goats had since walked away. Also, when I get lost deep in the villages, it genuinely startles people. The very last thing they're expecting to see is a little white chick cruizing around with an iPod, all by herself in the middle of Africa. They literally stop dead in their tracks, stop mid-sentence of whatever they were saying, and utter shock and disbelief overcome them. I feel badly, because I can tell that it throws them completely off balance.

Also in my down time, I spend time with the friends I’ve made in Ghana. Last weekend, I was invited to a wedding. Not the church kind, but a village wedding, in somebody’s backyard, with people dressed in their finest clothes, and chickens running around pecking at abandoned food. As you might imagine, I am very popular amongst children during such occasions. They follow me around like the Pied Piper, only instead of a magical flute, it is my long, blonde locks that mesmerizes them completely. Often, they want to play with my hair, which I welcome, and secretly love.   

Back home, people always ask me if I’m having fun here, but I’m not sure that is the best word to describe it. Is it enriching? Definitely. Is it difficult? Often. Is it fascinating? Immensely. Do I miss San Francisco? A lot. But mostly, I’m extremely grateful. I am fortunate to have so much, when many people in the world have so little. I feel lucky that I have the opportunity to see and experience the things that I do, and I am especially glad that I’ve somehow chosen to lead such an interesting life. 

-LL

This was the first indicator, as I drove into town, that I was in for a whole new reality. 

Welcome to Ho, Ghana! Good times ahead!

My friend, Christy, eating fufu... Steamed yam balls with meat soup, which people eat by hand. I'll pass.

I stumbled across a pig pen while walking through a village one day. Seriously, why would you want to decapitate and chop these two up?

Helping the villagers fill out their micro-credit forms

Another day, a different community. That's baby Prince and his mother, Patience.

That's my dear friend Patrick, who helps interpret whatever I say into Ewe, and that's little Noah on my lap, who is my charming new boyfriend. He stole my heart. Sorry, fellas.

A lovely woman who was listening in on a meeting from her doorway

She is still a bit too young to qualify for a micro loan, but a beauty nevertheless

One of the communities who are receiving loans, and definitely the villagers I spent the most time getting to know. I love them!

The stained guest book from one of the communities, which they asked me to sign. This page represents entries from 2008 to now. They appear not to receive many visitors. I'm the only non-African listed.

I am explaining micro finance to the fellas

Whatever I am saying here appears to be very facsinating.

Boy mashing dried cassava to make flour

Girl collecting water from the Dayi River Basin

Sweet dreads!