Akatsi Has No Internet, Just So You Know

It’s been a crazy few days over here in the blazing heat of Ghana.  I’ll give you a quick recollection of the past few days. Be forewarned, this is going to be a huge post.

Sunday Night

I went out with a few AIESEC members to get some food. We ended up taking a strange way through town that I hadn’t previously taken before.  Usually, we take a left out of the house in search of civilization, but on Sunday we took a right. It was dark outside and the streets aren’t that well-lit so I was praying that I didn’t roll my ankle on the dirt roads I was walking on. We turned the corner and the entire street was drowning in the sound of bullfrogs - it was deafening.  I hoped that they didn’t jump on me, warning who I was with that I would scream.  We walked down a shortcut, through this sketchy alley. A lot of people smiled at me and shook my hand. I heard the word obruni more than once for sure. We end up at an ice cream place, which was actually gelato. They call it ice cream, but based on the size of scoops and the consistency it was unmistakably the delicious Italian treat. I was excited. This would be the first cold food I would eat since coming here, and considering that I was sopping in sweat, it was more than welcome. I browsed the flavors and noticed a strange one called Zabajone. It was light brown, almost the color of a latte. I asked to try a sample after she told me it was red wine ice cream. I was beyond curious. It tasted slightly like red wine, but the cream dominated the flavor. I don’t think I would eat a lot of it, so I ordered a strawberry milkshake. It wasn’t very thick, but the cold was perfect. I was so happy. Sitting in air conditioning and sipping a milkshake.

On the way back, I was told that I had to lead the way. I was nervous, I should have paid more attention to my surroundings. Luckily for me I was taught how to identify my surroundings and what to do in case I get lost. during one of my environmental classes (thanks, Sentinels). If I could get my way out of the woods, surely I would be able to find my way back to the house. I was successful. The frogs were even louder on the way back, mostly because it was darker outside. I took a video so you guys could hear it. Don’t pay attention to me, I was terrified that one was going to jump out of the bushes.

Monday

I was woken up at around 9:00am and told that I was going to be picked up to leave for my internship at 10:00am. I was extremely tired but managed to get ready and entirely packed in an hour. It got to be around 10:30, and I took my copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy out of my backpack. I read, napped, and played Scramble on my phone alternately. I was told that the rain was causing delay and that my pickup should be soon. It was for this reason that I didn’t leave the house, or my room, all day. I was waiting for something that actually never came. Hours later, it was decided that I was going to be picked up tomorrow morning. Care Net Ghana’s policy is that their employees and volunteers can’t drive after dark, and if I was picked up when they arrived in Accra, nighttime would soon follow. The time was 6:30pm. I had read and napped all day, wasting an entire day in essence. I hadn’t eaten at all, and I thought that if I didn’t eat I might regret it later. I asked the people in the house where I might find some food, and they told me to go to the place I ate before.

It would be my first time venturing out alone. I’m not sure that in an ideal world, I would have chosen the nighttime to do so, but I really had no choice. I sprayed on some bug repellent, grabbed my purse, and left. I walked down the now-familiar road and walked quickly. It was a crowded night and it was quite evident that I wasn’t a local. Every child that saw me stopped and stared, yelling obruni excitedly. I smiled, and kept on my way. I reached the food stand, ordered some rice, and left. Turning on the side road, I checked to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. Ghana is a pretty trustworthy country, but the most common crime is theft. Considering that I have no Ghanaian phone, I didn’t want to get robbed.  I only ate about a quarter of the rice until I was full, noticing that a few nights prior I had eaten the entire box without a blink of an eye. My stomach had most certainly shrunk. I attempted my first Skype session that night, with decent results. I was receiving picture and sound clearly, but apparently my friend wasn’t so lucky. After seeing a screenshot from his computer, I looked like a nuclear disaster victim behind frosted glass. I promise that’s not what I look like in real life.

My friend decided to do something especially cruel to me and indulge in ice cream. I’ve never been angrier. How dare he, eat ice cream in front of someone sweating every drop of water she drinks. I pointed that out to him, he smiled, and continued doing it. He was instigating, learning from the best (me), and I told him that the next time we’re together I’ll be happily beating him with my signature weapon: a sock full of nickels.

Tuesday

I wake up the next morning to my alarm, set at 8:30. I repack what I took out the day before, and get dressed. I took my malaria medication, and for some reason it didn’t go down right. I felt ill, even more so knowing that I had a pretty significant car ride in my near future. The AIESEC members come to my room asking if I’m ready to leave, and I say yes. We grab my stuff and go outside. I meet the Care Net employees who pick me up and we head to downtown Accra to exhchange money. The way there was horrific, the roads were especially bumpy. I’m not sure if that was because the roads were actually as bad as I imagined them or because I was already feeling sick from my malaria medication earlier. I felt my stomach roll during every bump. Some of the holes in the road produced bounces that caused me to hit my head on the ceiling of the truck I was in. I wasn’t necessarily in the best shape.

Yup, this is every road.
[davestravelcorner]

I had to pay for my housing up front, and there was a discrepancy. Originally, and in the AIESEC papers, I was required to pay $100 per month for housing. Come to find out, I need to pay 15 cedi per day, and at 41 days, it adds up pretty quickly. The total I owed was 630 cedi, which is about $315, and significantly more money than I expected to pay. Because of that, I also took out some money from an ATM, expecting that where I would be going would be a little more remote than the capital.

During the money exchange, I began to feel extra ill. Disclaimer: don’t read this paragraph if you don’t like to read about vomiting, just skip over to the next paragraph.  I asked the woman I was with if there was a bathroom nearby, and she said yes. She strolled (very slowly, might I add) over to the gas station attendant, and I followed her. I began dry-heaving in the middle of the pumps, the most populated part of that particular gas station. Naturally. She got a restroom key but my body couldn’t wait, and I vomited. I kept it all in my mouth, hoping that no more would come so I didn’t have to vomit all over the gas station attendant. It would be bad enough if I was down the street from my house if this happened, but I was in the middle of Accra, Ghana: a place that is very foreign. So, we walk to the bathroom and I have vomit in my mouth. I looked so beautiful, I assure you. I get in the room, empty my mouth out and wash it with some of my drinking water. I hope that my malaria medication had fully absorbed before that happened, or else I was in trouble.

I was headed for Akatsi (ah-kaht-she), a town east of Accra. It was about a three hour drive. Getting out of Accra was terrifying, the roads were as bad as I anticipated. I felt much better after the gas station fiasco, not feeling ill during the dramatic road bumps. There were people on every road selling anything you could imagine. I found out their official titles are hawkers. I saw an expanse of highway absent of sellers, only to see the sign “No Hawkers” plastered everywhere. I put the two occurrences together. We get on the highway, and the amount of hawkers decreases as we leave the city. The highway was significantly smoother, with the exception of a few strategically placed bumps in order to control speeding. If you go too fast on these bumps, you’ll regret it. They’re almost like speed bumps, but inverted. They’re hard to see unless you know what to look for and after I while, I prepared myself for the bumps as I began to recognize them.

On the way to Akatsi, I noticed a few things. Once we were outside Accra, it was a completely different world, one without buildings. Short trees, low-lying to the ground, were sparsely arranged amongst the plains of grass and red sand.

I saw a herd of wild cows (believe it or not), led by a gigantic bull with horns three feet long. The cows were extremely skinny, compared to the fat American cows I have seen previously. There were cows of all ages and sizes in the herd. It was a strange sight. I noticed small things on the way, thinking clearer in the air conditioning. Most of the cars in Ghana still have antennae, which I found to be interesting. I also heard a commercial promoting internet with “the blazing fast speed of 21mbps,” something I have yet to fact-check to determine if that internet is indeed fast. Most of the stores, taxis, or anything owned privately, referenced Jesus or God. Ghana is a very religious nation, and they definitely make it known. Taxis on the back could say “God is good” or “Jesus saves.” Some stores have it directly incorporated into their names, such as “Blood of Jesus Food,” or “We are God’s Children Shop,” or even “Try Jesus Fashion.” There were signs all over the highway in white and red saying “Overspeeding kills! [number] Died Here!” I saw two, and the numbers were 6 and 18. I also saw huge termite mounds, six or seven feet high. Termite mounds baffle my mind, how something so small can create a structure taller than a man is beyond me.

Yup.
[ghanatravels.wordpress.com]

I passed through several towns before arriving at Akatsi. The names include: Dawa, Addokope, Kasseh Ada, Vume, Tefle, Sokope, and finally Akatsi. We passed over the Lower Volta Bridge, which allowed people to cross Lake Volta. It only took about five minutes to pass through the main road of each town. There were markets on each side of the road in each town, selling the same basic goods: bread, peanuts, fruits, and cell phone recharge cards.

We arrived in Akatsi and stopped at a house to pick up a mattress for me. The driver went in a house, and brought one out for me, actually two. They were twin sized, and roughly put together they were the size of a comfortable mattress topper for a dorm bed. Alone, it’s not much. We drove to a house, and got out of the car. Thinking that this would be where I would live, I got out and tried to get my things. We met the Care Net employees in Akatsi, two males and one female. That was where Sebastian and Ernesto lived, Frieda and I both got in the car and drove to where I would be living. About five minutes later, we drive down a very bumpy dirt road into a village. Chickens are running all around and I see a few goats cross here and there. We turn and stop the car. We get out and I go inside. The building has four apartments, one belonging to the landlady and three for the tenants. We go into the apartment and I see one room, roughly 15 feet by 15 feet and a door. This definitely wasn’t the AIESEC house. She opens the other door and places my bed down on the floor. I would be living in a two room shelter, with the rough combined dimensions of my living room. Frieda helps me set up my mosquito net and I notice that there is a tear in the corner, she says that it wouldn’t be a problem. I can fit my hand through it and I hoped that no mosquito would be smart enough to check every inch of the net.

She shows me where the restroom and shower is, which was around the corner of the house. It was a small house with two rooms for showering (one for the tenants, one for the landlady) and two toilets (one for the tenants, one for the landlady). There was no running water, only a pipe outside that “sometimes flowed with water, but only in the morning.” This would be another week of bucket showers for me. The toilet was shaped like a toilet, but instead of closing off, it was a big hole leading to a large pit of sewage at the bottom. The smell isn’t the most pleasant, I will say. The truck dropped Frieda and me off in town to get some lunch. I got plain rice, not wanting to get anything too crazy because of earlier events, for 1 cedi.We walked a ways down to look for the truck, and I noticed that I was being stared at the whole time. Ghanaians in the Volta region speak a different dialect than people in Accra, so I had yet to find out what their obruni equivalent is. We find the truck and head back to the house. I paid the Care Net employee named Sheila my housing fee, and she said that should be back to bring me to Hohoe sometime next week. She then left.

I got on my phone and scanned it for internet. Nothing. I asked if there was internet, but I was laughed at. This was going to be a long week. The power went out soon after and stayed out for most of the night. I relaxed for a little bit, talking to Frieda. It was obvious that she was lonely; living by yourself with no entertainment can’t be that fun. We walked into town for a bit to buy some things for dinner, and she explained to me that she’s willing to cook for me if I help out with paying for groceries. She was telling me that a lot of roadside stands in Akatsi are super expensive (5 cedis for a cup of tea) and aren’t that clean a lot of the time. She said that she’s seen people get typhoid from the food here, and I’m not about that lifestyle (I much prefer Yellow Fever or Influenza). I would like to take a lot from this trip, but a debilitating disease is most certainly not one of them. She buys some eggs, bread, and other things. We go to a small grocery shop (I’ll have to get a picture of it because it’s definitely not Wegman’s) and I get another bag of water. I also pay for this hot chocolate that Frieda serves for breakfast.

We head back to the house, and it’s nighttime. The power is still out by this point so I use my phone as a flashlight. She sprays the bedroom with insecticide and the “hall” and we sit outside on the bench for a little while. I have mosquito lotion and spray on me as well. She tells me about how incredibly male-dominated the Ghanaian lifestyle is, amongst other things. If you’d like to know more about that, ask me later (or maybe I’ll make it a post when I have a steady internet connection).The power came back on around 8:00pm and I am happy. I change into pajamas soon after and read for a little bit. We both went to sleep around 9:00pm from exhaustion, the heat definitely drains you.

It was my first night sleeping under a mosquito net. I tuck everything under my mattress and curse the tear in the net, hoping that nothing came through. There is no fan in the house at all, so the air was completely stagnant. My body heat seemed to be trapped in the net as well, and I was restless the whole night. I tossed and turned, quite literally, each time being awake enough to make sure that I don’t disturb the mosquito net. It gets to be around 1:00am and I had to pee. Worst timing ever. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I stealthily crawl out of my net and head to the outhouse. It was locked, not because someone was using it, but because they take the key out of the door before people go to sleep. I had no idea what to do, so I sucked it up and peed in the grass. I felt a drop of rain on my face and went inside, tucked everything back in and awoke at 6:30 to my alarm.

Wednesday

Frieda wakes up very early, and isn’t the best roommate when it comes to that. She bangs pots around and plays music. I was awake earlier than 6:30, but I tried to get sleep in while I could. I got up and grabbed my towel, shampoo, conditioner, and soap. Frieda gave me a bucket (and a smaller bucket for pouring) and I went to the shower. It was then that I wished I brought two pairs of sandals with me, because I hate exposing my Birkenstocks to any amount of water. I take off my Birkenstocks and begin taking the third bucket shower of my life. I had a smaller bucket this time, perhaps three gallons. By this time I’d like to say that I’m pretty great with bucket showers. I know how much water each item requires. Shampoo is pretty easy to wash out, soap lingers for a while, and conditioner is usually the water waster. I almost wish I didn’t need conditioner, but if I don’t use it my hair becomes so frizzy and brittle that I’m afraid I’ll lose it all. I had water to spare by the end of my shower so I just poured it over myself, remembering what being cool feels like.

I put on a long dress and sunblock, and Frieda has breakfast ready for me. She scrambled an egg and sautéed it with spaghetti. It is served in bread, usually in a pita pocket style. It was pretty good, probably one of my favorite Ghanaian dishes. She also made me her favorite hot chocolate, which tasted like watery Swiss Miss. If she only knew of my barista skills. Sebastian and Ernesto came to the house on a motorbike and asked if we were ready to leave. I was about to get my first look at Care Net’s inner workings. We were going to a nearby community. They go to communities around to promote female empowerment. In a lot of communities, especially traditional ones, the chief has the final say and the female opinion is overlooked. Care Net goes to places and presents to only women, stating that if the man in the house has an opinion that the wife can state it there. The group of women would choose officers in the community, and Care Net will assist with training in group dynamics, human rights, and leadership. The purpose of this formation is to give the women in the community a say in what happens, and I think it’s an awesome push towards some form of slight equality. Women are oftentimes the most knowledgeable about the problems in their communities, so it makes sense to talk to them directly.

We went to the community called Agbedrafor. The car wasn’t available to travel, so we had to take turns with the motorbike to get there. It was my first time on a motorbike, and it was a bumpy ride. It was a great time, the wind was so perfect. I was told to be careful on the right side because that is where the exhaust pipe is. They showed me their scars from being burned by pipes in the past. Motorbikes are the only practical mode of transportation in remote towns like Akatsi; they are the only vehicle that can successfully navigate the side roads in the villages without breaking down. When I arrived, Ernetso was already there and Sebastian left again to pick up Frieda. I walk towards him and take a seat, noticing that around 50 women from the village came to the program. I was no help at all, mostly because I can’t speak any Ghanaian dialect. People in the Volta region speak mostly Ewe (ay-way), which sounds absolutely nothing like English. I smiled and laughed when everyone else did, and clapped along with the crowd. I did not follow the conversation at all. I was filled in during the presentation that the women were all for the empowerment and decided to elect officers then and there. It was pretty cool to watch. I was told that the women were emphasizing to each other that this committee should accept the view of everyone and put no one down. It reminded me of RA training, oddly enough. With a successful event, Care Net organized a time to come back to conduct the training of the entire group. We left shortly after. I was dropped off at where I was staying. Frieda and I went into town and bought some rice from a vendor. We went back to the house and Frieda cooked it. I went outside, where it was a little cooler, and read some more of my book. I was still full from breakfast, so I asked for a little bit of food. She gave me an entire bowl of rice with pepe, and I ended up not being able to finish. My stomach has shrunk pretty significantly since being here. I didn’t anticipate eating again for the rest of the day.

I was exhausted. The night of restlessness combined with the already-busy day made me lethargic. I thought about napping but before I could, Sebastian and Ernesto came over. I felt rude napping while people were over, so I stayed out. They were working on designing a poster for the various communities with TBAs (Traditional Birthing Attendants). Considering that most of the communities have a population that is illiterate, they were trying to think of a poster that was mostly pictorial. None of us are artists, and they were coming up with pretty detailed descriptions of these situations. I suggested that photographs were used instead of crude drawings, I thought that they would give a clearer description of what was going on. So, if that happens, I might end up being a model for the poster in which I would play a pregnant mother. Watch out for those pictures, kids. They should be good.

At around 4:00pm, we left. We were going to meet up with American medical students that are working with Care Net at the Akatsi hospital. We walked because they wanted to show me the other side of town. We started walked. I have no idea how long we walked but before I knew it, we were in another town. We stopped by a yellow building that was being renovated and I was told that it was the future office for Care Net in Akatsi. We walked further down the road and turned at a sign that read “Volta Paradise Hotel.” This is where the students were staying. They came down the road and we met. There were around twelve to fifteen of us walking at that point, much like that big herd of cows I saw on my way to Akatsi. The group walking pace was unbearably slow; I kept walking too far ahead and having to stop. We walked very far, so far I don’t even know how to quantify it (I’ll check Google Maps and see if I can map out a route). We walked to the local school because the group wanted to play soccer, but one of the students said that he wanted to get an internet modem. We walked farther down into town to an MTN store (a huge cell phone carrier here) and he got a modem for 49cedis. We turned around and walked back to the field, which was entirely full. A child took us to another field behind the school, so we walked even further. By the time we got to the field, it was around 6:30pm. We had been walking for 2.5 hours at this point in the Ghanaian heat. I was pretty tired, as was everyone. I sat down next to Frieda and some other students that decided to not play, and we watched the rest of the group play against some school children (who were surprisingly good).

Gnats started coming out and we left soon after. The sun was setting, Frieda and I branched off from the group to go back to the house. We got back at around 7:00pm. She made me some more of that hot chocolate and said that she was going to leave for a little bit to get some porridge. I took out my contacts, changed into my pajamas, and read. I was so tired. I looked down at my feet and noticed that they were quite dirty.

I washed them outside quickly and went back to reading. I was extremely tired at this time and thought that going to sleep around 8:00pm wasn’t shameful. Right? I stayed up long enough for Frieda to return and I let her explore my laptop for a while. I was falling asleep and once she closed the computer I knew it was time to go to sleep. The time was around 9:00pm. I went to the bathroom before sleeping as a precaution, not wanting to repeat the previous night’s event. I pulled my mosquito net over my bed and tried to fall asleep. I did so rather quickly but woke up soon after to begin the now-routine tossing and turning.  I had to pee again. This couldn’t be real. I listened outside and heard pounding rain. I’ve never heard rain like this, I thought that water was going to start flooding the house. I couldn’t leave to go outside now, it sounded too frightening to leave the comfort of my mosquito net. I looked around and noticed that the net became untucked at the end by my foot and I cursed the stars. I retucked it in and hoped that all of this bad luck with mosquitoes wouldn’t turn into malaria. It would just be my luck.

I tried to go back to sleep but the storm was very loud. Another night of restlessness, it appeared. This time it wasn’t the heat (the rain had cooled everything to a reasonable temperature), but rather my screaming bladder and the imminent threat of the outdoors.