2-18-09

2/18/2009
 
On Saturday we took a break from the crazy long treks in the sweltering heat and went to the beach. It was so much different than American beaches. No one puts towels down and lounges in the sun. You have to pay to get on the beach. Almost everyone is completely dressed, as if they were ready to go out to dinner. It was so much cooler on the beach, which was a welcome reprieve. There are a bunch of tables with umbrellas and chairs for people to sit in. Most of the people just stand around in clusters though. Janine and I went into the water first. There were a lot of plastic bags in the water, so I kept thinking some sort of sea creature was rubbing up against my legs. As Janine and I were going out, a lot of men kept grabbing our hands. This is what a lot of the men do on land when they want to talk to you, so we thought that was what they were doing. We just kept slipping out of their hands and walking farther. As we got farther out a group of men kept asking us if we were okay. They thought we didn’t know how to swim. One man explained that very few people in Ghana know how to swim and that they were grabbing our hands because they thought we were being pulled out to sea. He said that a lot of people drown that way and that if they thought two women were being pulled out they might try to swim out and save us, but drown themselves in the process. At this point some other men started grabbing us inappropriately so we made our way back to the beach. There were a lot of people selling paintings, jewelry, and wooden crafts on the beach. They automatically zoomed in on the abrunis (us) and it was an endless stream of people trying to get us to buy things. A young boy named Samuel came up to me and taught me an Ghanaian hand shake. I taught him an American handshake and he looked at me like I was crazy. Every half hour or so he would come by and do a handshake with me and then walk off. Michelle had bought a Ghanaian mancala game, which Samuel promptly sat down and began to play with her. There was a large stage near us where they were playing rap music. As it started to get later in the afternoon people were dancing on stage and getting rowdy. I don’t like big crowds of people, so I was definitely ready to go at this point.
 
Monday was the first day of my internship. I am interning at the Center for Public Interest Law (CEPIL), which is a law firm that specializes in class action law suits on behalf of squatter communities that are being evicted and communities affected by mining activity. Rachel and I are at the same placement. Karim had told us to meet at Dr. Ayidia’s office at 10 on Monday morning, however, we got a text message from him at 8:30 that we were supposed to be there at 9. It was a good thing we had been planning on leaving early to go to the market and the internet café, otherwise we would have just been rolling out of bed. It is a 30 minute walk to Dr. Ayidia’s office, so we were a little late anyway. When we go there, he had no clue why we were there. He called Karim, and apparently we were supposed to meet Assaah, an MSW student who works at CEPIL. Assaah was supposed to take us to the office and give us a little orientation. However, Assaah didn’t arrive until 10. We all piled in his car and set off to the office. On normal days we are supposed to walk about 20 minutes to the Legon taxi rank and take a taxi to Trinity Junction and then walk about 15 minutes to the office. This is a much easier commute than Janine and Michelle’s! We go to the office and after a brief tour Assaah left us in a conference room for about 45 minutes before returning with CEPIL’s 2001-2002 annual report for us to read as well as a paralegal training manual. Two hours later he returned to tell us he had to go to campus and that we should take lunch. He wasn’t sure when the director would be back. Until the director returned we wouldn’t have any assignments. Rachel and I asked what was around for lunch since it was a residential area. Everyone replied that there wasn’t really anything around. So Rachel and I set off in hopes of finding a roadside stand with some fruit. Just down the block was a pharmacy where we bought crackers and cheese. On our way back we decided to walk past the office and see what was in the other direction. Only three houses down in the opposite direction was a little chop bar that sells banku, fufu, rice and beans, etc.! I guess they assumed we didn’t want Ghanaian food. Oh well, now we know. Luckily, the director was there when we got back. He came in to introduce himself and greet us. Unfortunately, he had no clue we were going to be there that day and had not prepared anything for us to do. He told us to take a half day and go home.
 
Tuesday went a little smoother. We had a good chat with one of the social workers in the office who is doing a project on women and children’s ability to access justice. Shortly afterward the director came in to meet with us and discuss our assignments. Someone discovered oil off of Ghana’s coast. Next year they will begin drilling. Our assignment is to research the impact of offshore drilling on coastal communities. In about a month we will be going into the coastal communities to survey the people regarding their concerns and the impacts on their lives. There are very few texts in the office and only three internet connections, so Rachel and I will mostly be working from the internet café. By the time we were out of our meeting the power had gone out, so there was no point in staying or going to the internet café.
 
That night my room mate invited me to go to a concert with her and her friends from California. We went to a place called Alliance Francais, where the son of a famous Nigerian musician was playing. It only took a couple songs for everyone to be out in front of the stage dancing. He played a really fun upbeat African reggae. We all danced and drank warm beer for hours.
 
We have had very intermittent power and water. I would say that we have only had running water for about 50% of our time here. The power has been off the majority of the last three days. Somehow bathing out of a bucket just doesn’t make me feel as clean as a shower.