Greetings from Ghana! It’s been an amazing and humbling journey already. We arrived in Accra on Friday May 7th, after a 9.5 hour flight from JFK. I got my first glimpse of the dark green African foliage and red dirt from the plane, Akwaaba (Welcome!) to Africa! We disembarked the plane 7:30AM Ghana time (3:30AM Michigan time) and were hit with the heavy 100+ F blaze of the equatorial sun. The heat has stayed with us day and night since—my 100 SPF sunblock is getting a work out!

We were met in the airport by a few men holding a U of M placard up. They were sent by our on the ground person Kofi. Having never met them before, and still very much disoriented, we followed them out into the street to their van. As we walked an increasing number of men joined our group, each pressing in next to us asking to carry our bags, and though we refused, telling us that we needed to tip them—they almost convinced another student to give them 20 cedi (1 USD = 1.41 Ghana cedi), before we were shoved into a car by Kofi’s drivers; the beginning of a continuing and overwhelming experience with poverty and inequity.

We drove out of the airport into the heart of Accra, the capital of Ghana. The streets were lined with people selling items from razors, to bags of water, to TV antennas, in between the clogged lanes of the most chaotic traffic I have ever seen. Cars pull out in front of one another with no clear pattern of right of way, and eventually someone yields or swerves—a large game of car “chicken” that somehow gets people where they want to go, when it doesn’t end in an accident. Many people travel in tro-tros—vans that pack a dozen or so people in, operated by a driver and another person hanging out an open side door yelling their destination to passerbys who might want a ride (40 paeswas (.4 cedi)). We’ve yet to ride one, but I’m sure we’ll work up the courage soon-- that’s definitely the cheapest way to get around. The ones going by where we are staying mostly yell “Kaneshie! Kaneshie!” as they are headed to a major transportation hub and market in an area of the city called Kanesh. The back of the vans and taxis are fairly comical. Most have strange biblical references pasted on the back windows in large letters, things like: “PASTOR!” of “I SIN NOT!” and many more which make far less sense. In all honesty though, you’d have to have a lot of faith to be a driver in that traffic! Plus, if you go off the road you either hit people or the foot wide cement ditch that lines many roads. Needless to say, we’ve seen several used tire-sales places!

The trip from the airport to the hostel took 45 minutes in the notoriously bad Accra traffic. I wish I had internet access that would allow me to upload the videos I took of the Accra streets—I don’t think my descriptions can do the place justice. All along the streets there are makeshift vendors, with random goods like those sold between lanes of traffic, as well as traditional foods (from ball shaped donuts to dried fish), and fruits. Women strolled along in the heat with heavy loads balanced on their heads—carrying baskets of bagged water (10-20 paeswas for a softball size bag). Some were in bright typically African dresses and wraps, while others were in western style clothes. Along the dirt sidewalk, people lay in the shade, and small children darted in and out playing in the dirt, or riding in wraps strapped to their mother’s backs. Shanty towns popped up left and right, clothes hanging out to dry along the street side, an occasional goat trotting through the buildings, old Guinness posters cut into slats to make hanging doors on shacks. Pre-teens played an intense game of soccer bare feet in a half finished, half demolished building foundation, while a younger troop scuttled in an empty lot. We passed by the Atlantic coast line, but this particular view was clouded by factory smoke from the distance, and rubble and garbage heaped high on what would have been the beach. We’ve heard rumors of some great beaches and coast line… but definitely not this particular spot! Word on the street is the La Beach is the best beach in Accra, so we’re aiming to try that out when we can… though I’m not sure I can feasibly crutch on a beach… minor details.

We turned off the main roads from the airport into Korle-Bu Teaching Hospital campus. Dirt drives off the campus road lead to one story bungalows with open doors and signs indicating things like the “Nursing Quarters” and “Regional Prevention of Maternal Mortality Program”. Some of the main roads have names (though I’ve yet to see a road sign), but most directions are given by general area (like Kenashie, or “the road after the sign post that says X” which makes it a big difficult to navigate as a newbie. After a mile or so on the medical campus, we reached the University of Ghana Medical School International Students Hostel, flanked by barb wire and a dirt field (later used by the boys for an intense game of international soccer) and bordered by a bungalow house with numerous small bare-foot children peaking around the corner at us and playing in the field. I later tried to make friends with them, telling them I couldn’t play soccer with the big kids, but I could sit in the dirt and build castles… They weren’t having any of it.

Our hostel houses visiting medical students, and international students that attend the University of Ghana. My roommate, Bukky, is a third year medical student from Nigeria (as are all the other African students I’ve met). For Keesha and I this is temporary housing for a week or two before we head to Akwatia. The hostel has two person rooms, with screens on the windows and ceiling fans. At night the fan makes the room sleepable, but during the day it’s blazing despite the air flow. We have the luxury of running (non-potable) water piped from a basin outside that collects the rain water. We have thoroughly enjoyed the cold showers and flush toilets (though they are BYO-toilet paper). Wash buckets line the halls along with hangers for drying clothes. I’ve been washing my clothes in the shower with me, and hanging them to dry. In this heat things get so sweaty that after a day they definitely need to be washed! Around 6 PM the sun sets and sweating subsides. Still adjusting to the time change and heat, I’ve been fast asleep soon after it gets dark! By 6 AM it’s light and the Ghanaians are up and about, smartly getting things done before the sun is scorching.

I’m learning about Africa time, and realizing that things are going to move very slowly here. Kofi appeared Saturday morning for the first time (he’s great—telling us, call me anytime, “While you are here I am your mother, your father, your sister, your brother”). Already we’ve realized that people don’t always show up when they say they will, and if they do it’s likely at least an hour late. He told us that we’ll be able to meet our mentor Dr. Adanu at Korle-Bu on Monday, and we’ll be able to work on final preparations for our work in Akwatia—things like translating surveys and finalizing our methods for the week or two while we are here (no one really knows the details). Kofi just popped in moments ago to take some other U of M School of Public Health Students (Katie, Megan and Ajab) to their site in Tamale (45 minutes away). Apparently at some point later today he’ll be back for us—that’s the most detail we’ve had yet! I’m sure it’ll work out though, and I’m really looking forward to meeting Dr. Adanu and seeing the hospital.

Being on crutches is incredibly frustrating—I would love to go explore, but I have to carefully ration where I can physically manage to hop to in one day. As much as I want to pitch my crutches out the taxi window, I’m trying to be good and yet not to let it slow me down too much. By Sunday I had completely worn through the rubber stoppers on the bottom of my crutches (not cool on the slick floor of the hostel hall!). I’m building a bit of stamina (that’s what exhausted arms mean right?) and sweating buckets. I stick out like a sore thumb as a white girl, with blue eyes, and crutches. People stare at me on the street and many yell from taxis or stands, “Sorry! Sorry!” while pointing at my leg. It’s quite a trip to have an impoverished person, laying in the dirt on the street yell “sorry sorry!” pointing at my leg. I haven’t figured out the correct response yet, for now I’m sticking with “medasi” (thank you).

The local Ghana dishes are delicious (no sick tummies yet!)—my favourite so far is red-red: a very filling plate of fried plantans, beans (black-eyed peas?), and chicken. As the locals have explained, people here do a lot of manual labor, so the dishes are made to be dense and filling. If you though portion sizes were large in the US… come to Ghana—finishing a meal of local grub is a challenge. Last night I had plantans and palava sauce (onions and greens in a stew like mixture that is sppppicy!) with a drink for 3.7 cedis and was absolutely filled to the brim! Yesterday while hopping around the outside of campus in search of water and fruit, we ate our first street vendor food, purchase from a young man biking along with a box of baked goods. The item I had, for 20 paeswas, was called something that sounded like “rock-pie” and looked and tasted like a delicious corn meal muffin. After we’d all finished buying what we wanted that young man pulled out another “rock-pie (?)” and handed it to me for free, acknowledging my cast. So generous!

In order to have some food here at the hostel, Saturday Keesha and I decided to venture on our own to the grocery store, as the driver Kofi sent never showed up to take us. My roommate Bukky told us what to tell the taxi driver and what a fair price for the ride was—that’s something I definitely haven’t adjusted to yet. Buying anything involves intense bartering, especially as a foreigner. Bukky helped up bargain for the first taxi, as there was no direct tro-tro, and she thought the tro-tro would be too difficult with crutches. For 4 cedis we got a ride through Accra to the district of Osu, where we were told to go to a store called Koala for groceries. We’ve now realized that folks tend to send us to “foreigner” restaurants and stores. Koala had a sample of what we have at home, but at high prices, as one might expect: Corn Flakes for 10 cedis, etc. We found a few things, that we really needed, including water which we had completely run out of (we’re drinking 3+ liters each a day in the heat and have to buy it in bottles) and made a pact to try not to shop at “white-people” stores for the rest of our stay. That said, the rice and beans Keesha cooked up using her roommates dishes were very yummy! If I had known more about our housing situation I would have packed a bit differently—I could kill for a bowl, real silverware, and a camp set of cookware, as we are on our own for that stuff at the hostel! I’m sure we could buy those things somewhere here, but we’ve yet to find it, and when we do find things we’re looking for the prices are astronomical—we could barely stifle a laugh when one street vendor told us a bath towel was 30 cedis. She had of course inflated the price for us (Kofi said we should pay no more than 5) and we passed on the offer, but on the flip side, in doing so we also failed to buy the things we were looking for, like dishes. We’ll keep looking!

Having gotten up early to avoid too much hoping in the heat, and made what is hopefully one of my only “long hops” today to the internet café, I’m heading back to find more water, and recharge my arm energy at the hostel before our meeting with Dr. Adanu.

I’ll do my best to update again soon!

All the best to all of you! Hugs!

-Halley