An Inconvienient Truth

Thursday July 22nd 2010

“Ben, look up at the sky! It’s an incredibly clear night; you can see so many stars.” I say, half in awe, half excited by the buffet of stars before my eyes. My counterpart Benedictus and I walk down a pothole-filled path outside of town, blackened by recent nightfall in the absence of street lights. As often occurs in unsuspecting moments such as this one, I’m struck by the natural beauty around me. “Oh really?” Ben replies, in his usual tone: a mix of playful humour and innocence. “I wouldn’t even have noticed.”

I’m constantly surprised by how little attention Ghanaians pay to the beauty of their country. Easy for me to say though, as I’ve been lucky enough to see various different countries of the world, and thus have multiple reference points. Many Ghanaians I’ve met have little to no travel experience within their country, let alone internationally. But, these things aside, I’ve seen that Ghanaians put little thought into the environmental consequences resulting from their actions and habits, and subsequently don’t prioritize environmental upkeep and protection.

If Ghanaians really knew what a jewel they had, would they be less likely to throw plastic bags of trash out of trotro windows? Would it be less common for me to walk home from work smelling the sickly sweet smell of burning plastic? Would community members push harder for environmentally conscious behaviour changes?

When I first came to Ghana I was shocked and, quite frankly, appalled by two things: lack of environmental regulations, and the apathetic attitudes and behaviours often exerted by Ghanaians towards their natural habitat. I distinctly remember whizzing through Accra in a taxi, nauseated by the thick layer of exhaust fumes seemingly floating over the road, and thinking to myself: “This can’t be real. A country where millions of citizens rely on the environment for the success of their agriculture projects, and this is how we’re treating the environment!?”

Where do these unsafe, environmentally compromising vehicles come from? Why are they allowed here? I’m certainly no expert, but I do know that they come from rich ‘developed’ countries via exportation. Exportation is a complex industry unto itself– one that I can’t claim to understand now, but that I’m eager to learn more about.

I picture car exportation this way– it’s sort of like if you were to buy a sweater you love and decided to wear it every single day for a year. At year’s end, your sweater has seen better days and you’re tired of wearing it. So what do you do? You give it to your younger brother, who is small enough that the sweater will fit, albeit probably not well. He also isn’t likely to complain about how nasty your sweater is, having been worn for 365 days. He’s probably just going to put it on and go play in a sandbox, happy to be covered from the elements. Meanwhile, you’re quite relieved to have gotten rid of your dirty old sweater, and are likely already on your way to go replace it with a newer, cleaner, more stylish version. To me, rich countries dumping used cars in Africa is kind of like you giving your soiled clothes to a younger sibling. And so it goes, Ghana ends up with a plethora of junky cars spitting out thick, black smoke across its countryside.

This year Ghana’s farmers have been incredibly frustrated with the changes they are seeing in the weather patterns, and how it is negatively impacting their yields. These two extremes, one of thoughtless destruction and one of heavy reliance, currently co-exist in Ghana. But, I have to ask myself how much longer they can afford to sweep these pressing environmental issues under the rug.

Ghanaians are proud people who love Ghana, that’s certainly true. But, much to my dismay and heartbreak, protecting their environment doesn’t factor in to that. I can’t help but wonder how different things would be if it did.

Thanks for reading,

Erin

Mixed Bag

Tuesday June 22nd 2010

Lots of interesting things have been taking place in my life recently, so I’ve decided to stray slightly from my typical ‘one story per post’ approach to fill you all in. Below you’ll find a brief snapshot of three situations I found myself in over the past week.

• Last week, after speaking with some of the kids about typical breakfast foods in Canada, I decided to attempt to make banana pancakes for everyone in the compound. This was received with much curiosity and laughter, as my family tried maple syrup for the first time, critiqued my culinary skills (which despite my best efforts never seem to be up to par), and eventually devoured at least a dozen cassava flour banana pancakes. Now, nearly everyday one of the kids inquires about the next time we’ll make pancakes. In light of the success of this pancake mass cook-off, I was invited by Pastor Divine and his wife Lydia, whom I live with in the compound, to teach the women’s group at their church how to make pancakes. I felt like this was a pretty neat invitation, so I agreed right away.

When the time came to attend the meeting, I was greeted by +30 women who were keen on learning about these mysterious Canadian pancakes. These women turned out to be even harsher culinary critiques than my family, and it only took me making one pancake before they were giving me pointers on the optimum shade of golden brown the pancake should reach before leaving the frying pan. The women continually told me “God bless your future husband” which I found quite amusing. If my future husband marries me for my pancakes, we’re in trouble.

A picture of the women's group crowd learning to make pancakes!
 

After my self-proclaimed ‘pancake tutorial’, I had a conversation with a few of the women about the potential to sell pancakes at the market. I suggested the idea half jokingly, but it seems like some of the ladies don’t think it’s a bad one. They aren’t all the biggest fans of banana pancakes, but they do want to experiment with pineapple, coconut, and vanilla. Also, instead of maple syrup they are going to try using honey.

• I recently travelled to Akuse and spent the night in a lovely little guest house. Little did I know that the particular room I had chosen had a few tricks up its sleeve. Turns out it was outfitted only with florescent green light bulbs. Obviously I was quite surprised when I flicked the switch, but at the end of a long day of travel it did provide me with some much needed comic relief. This was one of those ‘only in Ghana will this likely ever happen to me..’ moments.

My florecent green lightbulb (and ceiling) in Akuse.
 

• Also while in Akuse, I had the opportunity to visit a family whose speciality was making glass beads.  From what I could tell, every member of the family was employed through this trade– from the elders crafting the beads right down to the children stringing jewellery.  As I explored their shop I came to notice that some of their products had Ten Thousand Villages tags on them. I inquired, and a lady informed me that they sell their glass products, such as fine beads, candle votives, and key chains, to Ten Thousand Villages. It was pretty cool to meet first hand someone whose products can likely be found in a speciality store in Canada. Talk about closing the loop on seeing the incredible amount of power each individual has when they make their daily purchasing decisions.

First hand experiences like this one make me all the more thankful for purchasing outlets catering to value-based shopping, such as Ethical Ocean, Ten Thousand Villages, and TransFair Canada. Supporting initiatives that place a high value on understanding the story behind the products they sell really does make a difference in the lives of rural producers.

Thanks for reading,

Erin