During the last week and a half, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to spend some time with a baby monkey, orphaned when hunters shot the mother for meat.
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Category Archives: Ghana
Parts of Speech
I was sitting on my porch, reading by lamp light, and only vaguely aware of the activity when Auntie Amma and Margaret ran by, shouting, and Esther followed. I looked up and thought that probably some of the kids were in trouble again. Esther had been yelling at them all evening.
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Hawk and Hen
Hawk and Hen lived together in a small house. One day, Hen was sick and did not want to go out and work. Hawk said to Hen, “Give me your cutlass; I am going into the bush and will use it to cut wood to make a drum.”
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Eating One’s Words
The section of the village I live in is on the outskirts of town and is called “Habitat”…short for “Habitat for Humanity”, who implemented the project to build these houses. I think there are nine of them here, in three rows of three. Esther and I live on the middle row on the near end. Next to us, right in the middle, is Amma’s house.
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One Month at Site
It hasn’t been easy to “go to farm”, the best way for us to integrate into the community and learn about the environment and agricultural practices. But the famous Ghanaian hospitality works against me doing that. It’s been frustrating. They don’t want me to do any work. So when Esther said she would take me to harvest cashews, I was pretty excited. Stephen noted that I’d been in Kabile for one month, so I felt it was high time I got to do some work.
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Ramble
Today you’re getting a long ramble. A lot of my writing happens on paper more and more, for the lack of electricity, and lack of privacy…I only use my computer after closing my house up for the night. For now anyhow, it seems better for it not to be known that I have a computer, mostly because I don’t want to have to demonstrate it to everyone, but also it’s probably better to keep it under wraps. But anyhow…my head is full of stuff to write about, and I’ve got almost a full charge here…
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The Cost of Sorting Nuts
On Wednesday, the District Assemblyman, my supervisor, counterpart and I went back to Sampa to meet with the District Chief (the “DC”) of the District Assembly, who’d been out during the holidays when we visited before.
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The Welcome Spot
They call bars here “spots”.
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Eggs With Onions
This morning, I am the only one at my house. The woman that lives in the next room is gone. We have private rooms, that both open to the outside, and our own porches. I also have a small room for a kitchen, and my latrine and bathing “closet” connected to my porch.
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Swearing In
When I was in third grade, “maxi” dresses, with hems that nearly brushed the floor, were all the rage. Continue reading Swearing In