Last weekend NYU Accra traveled to the Volta Region of Ghana to a village called Adaklu Dawanu, located about 45 minutes out of Ho, the region's capital. Trip was a volunteer/home stay visit, and we teamed with DIVOG (Disaster Volunteers of Ghana) to help put in cement floors for the kindergarten classes, which are currently held under a beautiful, budding mango tree.
After about a 4 hour bus ride, we pulled up to the entire village clapping, smiling and singing. As we sat down, many young (pre-teen) girls dressed in beautiful fabrics danced for us and sang. We all introduced ourselves, danced, and the chief poured libations for us, welcoming us into the community. Shortly after, it was off to work! I started by fetching water to make the cement. I went with a few other students, some of the mothers in the village, as well as some young girls (no more than 10 years old). We chatted and giggled while walking to the stream where they gather their water to wash and build. They have a well that they fetch their drinking water from. Wanting to be like a true Ghanaian, my peers and I sat the water buckets on our heads and began to carry them back. Boy, did the walk back seem a lot further! The young girls from the village were pros, and here I was spilling water down my shirt and onto the ground. The women were nice, and with only a few laughs, they traded me for a smaller bucket. We dumped our buckets for the men to use to mix the cement and went back for more. It was such a lengthy process, and one of the girls told me that she does this 3 times a day for water!
I went back and decided to let other students try fetching water, since I knew we all wanted to try it at least once. I helped with transporting stones, and then cement into the classrooms for the men to smooth out the cement. It was so labor intensive, and I wondered, is my unskilled labor really helping anything? Is this just for me to exploit their culture, understand how "real Ghanaians" live? I know some of our program fees went to buy all of the supplies like cement and rocks for the village, but what are they gaining from 30+ Americans coming for 24 hours, giving them some bread, and then leaving again? I will come back to these questions, which I think I may know some of the answers to these complex questions that frankly, have been in my mind throughout this entire study away experience.
As work slowed for the day and the sun began to set, a woman with her baby ran up to me and told me her name was Juliet and she was my host mother for the night. As her 15 year old son, Rafael, took my pillow and backpack and we headed off through the homes to our own. I met the rest of the family including the father (who I actually never found out his name...), Juliet (mother), Rafael, Gifty (see top photo) and Stella (6 month old beautiful little girl). We sat around watching Juliet cook her family dinner and after a while, the kids and I all walked around and Rafael showed me around (I even got to carry Stella on my back-- a goal of mine from day 1 in Ghana!).
I took a bucket bath in a cement structure that was only about 4 and a half feet tall (good thing I am short). It also did not have a door. I was not sure whether I felt "free" or unsure of the whole experience, for as I was washing the dirt and grime from a day's worth of work off of me, I could see the entire village out cooking and enjoying the other NYU students. Either way, it was refreshing. Juliet dressed me in some of her fabric and after fleeing from a rainstorm, I went off to dinner.
After dinner, there was a bonfire with drums and dancing. I danced with many different people, and it was so dark outside, I couldn't even really see who! We all danced for hours, and then Juliet gathered Rafael, Gifty and I to come back to get ready for bed. We all slept in their cement home, which consisted of one room. I had my own little mattress to sleep on, and not going to lie, it was very hot that night and I could hear some creepy crawlies around me, but I survived the night so all is well!
The next day we dressed up for church and then after many pictures, went back to work to finish up the cement floors. Then before I knew it, it was time to leave. I've always had a hard time leaving places. My parents still chuckle/cringe when we talk about the many plane rides home from vacation where I pissed everyone off on the plane crying because I didn't want to leave. And as I attempted to get the last few photos of my new mother and siblings, the tears began to come. I forced myself to say goodbye, wipe my tears and climb back onto our bus. I don't like being over dramatic, but I just become attached to places, that is how I have always been. The new becomes familiar very quickly and I have a difficult time putting these events, people and places in the past.
At the end I realized that we were giving them more than unskilled labor, attempting to carry water and sometimes failing. I hope that during my stay, I gave them as much as they gave me. No matter what their circumstances, they gave me shelter, clothes and food, essentials to survival, and they gave it with excitement and sincerity. I hope I gave them a few things. I hope I gave them the knowledge that they are not alone in this world, that although they feel like much of the world has forgotten about them, there are people like us who have not. I hope that I showed Rafael the value of education, and exposed him to ideas that reach outside of his village, but to also always remember where he came from. I hope that they have as fond memories of me as I do of them.
It sounds so corny, but this experience has been life changing, and I wish we had the opportunity to do more home stays in Ghana. I am so incredibly humbled by the passion and strength of the community. What community, in America, would come together to build a school for THEIR OWN CHILDREN? None that I know, they would just hire a contractor to do it. But there is something so special about this community that sacrifices so much for their children and loved ones, and it brought the community closer together.
Now that my hands are cramping and I am missing my host family once again, THE END.
