Work is boring, even in Ghana. 3 days spent at my internship, and I've exhausted my politics and gossip blog options by the first hour I'm in the office (Mackenzie Phillips had sex with her dad: ewww, a 19 pound baby was born: ouch , Obama met some spanish goths: priceless, and there still isn't a good healthcare plan). Now, god help me, I might actually have to do work.
I'm working at Grassroots Africa, a policy advocacy NGO. I think. I'm still a bit hazy on what exactly we do. What I've got so far is that we do a lot of policy research and advocacy work in Ghana for women's rights, government and political participation, clean water and sanitation services. There are offices up in the northern part of the country, where a lot more of the hands-on advocacy and education takes place with "the people", but I'm down in Accra, sitting at a desk, researching water.
It's not really water, I'm not sitting around testing pH levels a la 8th grade science class. I'm researching 1) the impact of sanitation services on women in Ghana taking into consideration health, education, dignity, safety and economic factors; 2) women's contribution to sustainable water and sanitation/hygiene services in Ghana in terms of their role in planning and decisionmaking. So in a nutshell, it's water. It's actually pretty interesting, even though I found like 5 bazillion web sites I have to go over.
I thought I had it bad when when the water pressure/temperature goes schizo during a shower, or worse when there isn't even water when you wake up TO shower (like it did this morning; no shower also means no flushing toilets... add that a house full of obruni in gastrointestinal distress because we aren't used to the food still, and you've got a party!). Water to Ghana is like what peanut butter M&M's are to me; a precious commodity that can't be wasted. Water distribution is a private industry here, and most of the country doesn't have running water in their houses, or even a clean water source nearby because of this. Women and girls do all the water collection, walking miles to get to wells and other sources, bringing it back in huge jugs they usually carry on their heads. Not only is this search a burden on their bodies, but it prevents young girls from going to school, takes time away from other economic pursuits and even then the water might not be safe for use, causing a whole other world of problems for the family. That's just water; the lack of plumbing and water sources in most areas also accounts for the poor sanitation habits that cause many public health problems in the country, problems that are surrounded by cultural taboo and affect women disproportionately.
I know, the subject matter is a little bit heavy for a blog that mostly documents my oblivious obruni antics and food comments. It's exciting for me. I feel like I have a big-girl job; working at an NGO, researching important sounding things. I was also involuntarily elected to their 5 year anniversary party committee in a staff meeting last week. At least I think I was, it takes all the concentration I have to focus on the dialect here. I know we're all supposed to be speaking English, but in a really twisted way I hope that Ghanaians have just as hard a time understanding my pure, unaccented Iowan English as I do of understanding theirs. Language is a constant struggle for me. and it's definitely made for some interesting situations. I'm always greeted with "You're welcome". I have to mentally check myself every time that I haven't absent-mindedly said "thank-you". Nope, Ghanaian's have just introduced to me the proper use of the thank-you-you're-welcome exchange; it's not sarcastic and baiting to say "you're welcome" first, it's polite and logical. MIND BLOWING.
In other news, I've bee mostly illness free, mildly sunburnt and secure for a week now. What a record. I'm sick to death of rice and meat stews, but would kill for a bagel and a Dr Pepper. And I'm getting a new marjorie dress this week. I'm seriously contemplating blowing all my money on a new Ghanaian wardrobe. Custom fit dresses and tops? Yes please! My "loved ones deserving of a souvenir" list is in jeopardy of being trimmed down so I expect my inbox to be filled with messages of how much everyone misses me.
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