Wish List

Many of you have expressed an interest in sending me a package, your kindness is overwhelming. However, it is expensive to mail things here; for example a large padded envelope costs $25 and there is a flat rate box which you can stuff with no weight limit for $53. This is very expensive, and this blog is not intended to guilt anyone into mailing me something. But, on the other hand, if you are looking to mail me something, I don’t want you to mail me things I don’t need or stuff I can get here. The other problem is that when I write a list like this, there is a danger of getting 25 bags of Totsie Pops, which I will eat, but then my teeth will fall out. (Actually the story goes that the lady the created fufu had no teeth. So I suppose I could eat most Ghanian food if I lost all my teeth). So, I will write things here that have a good shelf life, and things that I will use on a regular basis.
UGH!! I had to stop writing for a bit. I heard this plop and this large toad just appeared on my floor! I have no idea how he got in, my windows have bug screen all around them. Anyways, he is back outside, hopefully eating all sorts of tasty bugs.
As I have described in earlier blogs, there is a serious lack of dairy products. I can get powered milk and eggs. So I would love to have packs of dry/powdered sauces that I could add to pasta, rice, beans or potatoes. The sauce packs are lightweight and have a good shelf life. Plus there is a good variety of them from asian, gravy mixes, cheese sauces, etc.
Canned goods: Maybe things like tuna fish, canned chicken, shrimp stuff like that. I never thought I would say this but cheese in a can, OMG!!! Send it baby!!!
Another thing is drink mixes. The only thing I can get here is Fanta Orange Soda and Coke, and I am not a big fan of sodas. I like most flavors, and I know there are available drink mixes that are healthy for you. There is not many green dark vegetables around here, so if you can find some that are fortified with greens and vitamins that would be nice. I also like lemonade mixes and things. There is a mix called Emergen-C, but I am NOT a big fan of that. Hmmm, do they have powdered beer or wine???
Granola Bars are good. But I am snob when it comes to them. Kashi makes ones I like, Cliff Bars and again there are some in the health food section of the stores that have healthy things in them. Chocolate coated ones will probably melt, but ones with chocolate chips have shipped well.
Speaking of chocolate. Milk chocolate does not ship well. By the time I get it, it is usually melted. Dark chocolate does much better, and, it so happens I prefer that. My favorite is Green and Black, found in the health food section of Hannaford, but they are quite expensive.
Prepackage cookies are good as long as they are sealed and wrapped pretty good. Same with wheat thins and crackers. If you could, when you send things like this, please send along a large zip lock bag so once it is opened it won’t go stale.
Dried Fruit- Yummy. Just not raisins.
OOooh!!!! Gummy Bears!!! Black Forest are the best!!!
Jerky is also good. I like all kinds; just not Slim Jims. I know, I know, I am picky.
I remember when I used to go backpacking, we would buy freeze dried meals. I don’t know what the technology is these days and what kind of meals they have, but heck, it can’t be worse than the okra stew with grass cutter (US groundhog), or dried rotten fish I am eating now!
If there is any new cool movies that have come out on DVD or and cool new music you are listening to, I am always up for that.

Things not to ship:
Peanuts- I have ground nuts here, and once I roast them, add salt and either garlic or sugar, they are pretty tasty.
Peanut Butter- I can get groundnut paste, which once I doctor up tastes pretty yummy.
Jam- I have found a Monastery here that makes jam and it is wonderful.
Homemade Food- Unfortunately, because it will take at least a month for me to get the package, most homemade food will spoil.
Books- They would be great but too heavy and I have a good selection here. Unless someone wants to send me a Kindle..LOL
Well, that is all for now. Again this message is because many of you have asked what I would like, and this is the easiest way for me to communicate to all of you. Don’t feel like you have to send anything, though a letter now and then would be nice!
Here is the shipping address:
Wayne Tilton PCV
c/o Peace Corps
PO Box 5796
Accra-North
Ghana, West Africa

My love to you all.
Cheers,
Wayne
PS Seriously, some one work on powdered wine or beer, PLEASE!!!!

Dinner with Wayne. Akwabaa!!

So, I start with garlic. I think that God, when He spoke “Let there be Light”, was probably sauteing garlic... The whole process of mincing garlic is almost a religion in itself. The crushing of the skin, the chopping, the pungent smell... It brings me back to the days of when my brother, (Scott, I love you man!!!!), use to make his mussels; starting with garlic. I take some coarse salt and oil, to help break the oils and the meat of the garlic. The skillet is hot, and the oil is sizzling. As I add the garlic the familiar noise of popping and spattering resound as the pieces dance in the hot oil. I add green pepper, and Ginny (Twi word for onion). As that cooks, I peel the tomatoes, garden eggs and hot peppers. Once I am through I toss everything together, add some water, salt and a little sugar and let it simmer for a couple of hours.
I have my Ipod (Tom that is an electrical thingy that plays music, kinda like magic!!) on shuffle. I go from listening to Spyro Gyra (Chris I love you man!!) to Nick Drake ( HB, I love you!!!!) to Max McLean reading Psalms (Todd, I love you man!!!). My cold gin and raspberry lemonade are calling to me, the crickets are deafening outside my window. My neighbor comes over and we start talking about the States as the sauce simmers. It’s funny the perception people have here of the US. They think that we are all rich, and we all drive sports cars going around shooting people (they watch way too many movies). They also are devastated as I tell them that WWW.RAW Wrestling (CJ I love you man!!!) is NOT real. Seriously. The sauce continues to simmer. Now, Billy Idol is on my Ipod (Noli- don’t know exactly why this reminds me of you but I love you man!!! Let me know if you are out there.)
Sounds good so far right? Well, NOW what do I do??? I look around and try to figure out what I am gonna put this yummy sauce on. My cupboards are kind of bare, and the only thing I see (heavy sigh) is a yam- or in the US, it’s called a potato. Except this potato is on steroids, about 5 times the size of a US potato. Before I prepare this BOS (beast of starch), I decide I need another gin and raspberry lemonade ( I love you Gin!!!!).
Well, the meal is done; tomato sauce with yam. The Bee Gees are playing ”How Deep Is Your Love?” I love you Alna Youth Group!!!)I think about cheese. Parmesan, or mozzarella.. I think I remember what those tasted like. The dry powdery texture of parm, or the stringy, hot texture of motz, that always ends up on you chin. Well, instead, I have this kind of boring meal, but all the time thinking of my friends and loved ones back in the states. Hey, the next time you bite into that crispy garlic bread or taste that dryness of red wine...please remember me. Cheers!

Don’t carry your eggs all in one bag!

So, do you ever think how expensive it is to live here in Ghana? Well, I have (no big surprise to those of you who think I’m um er well frugal). This is what they call the rainy season here in Ghana. Although it does not rain most days, it is cloudy and, what the locals call cool; 85-90. It’s funny to see them in a vest or long sleeve shirt at this temperature, but in the dry season it is about 120. Can’t wait.
Anyways, today it did rain. I was in town doing some shopping when the rain came. I was eating lunch/supper (these days I combine them; it’s cheaper that way). When it stopped, I continued on my shopping expedition. I bought a loaf of bread from the top of a girl’s head, then a half of dozen eggs from the egg lady. Hopefully from my previous blogs you can start to picture the scene. As I start to make my way home, holding the eggs in my hand, I am careful not to step in the puddles that cover my muddy path. This is a tricky thing given that the path is very slippery, slimy and steep. You guessed it, I didn’t make it without falling. Not too bad, I thought I recovered rather quickly, but, when you are the only white person in town, all eyes are upon you. Amidst all the laughing and pointing ( I should sell tickets... call it the Wayne show), one man was nice enough to offer me some water to wash my hands. After thanking him and carefully watching my step, I continued on but thought to check my eggs to see how they fared during the fall. Four out of the six were broken. The eggs cost .20 pesawa each, so I lost .80 pesawa or close to .60 cents. No big deal right? Well, I “make” $6 a day. 80 pesawa is about 8% of my pay. So... let’s say you make $200 a day in the States; 8% of $200 is $16. On four eggs. Hmmm, so you tell me, is it expensive to live here?

Wayne Goes to Wenchi

Well, stage one is complete! Sorry I have not been able to communicate in a while, it’s been a very busy and hectic time. The last few weeks of training were review and getting ready for the tests. Yes, in order to swear in and become a PCV, you need to be tested and get at least and 80% in each segment of training; health, safety and security, small enterprise development (SED) and language. The health, safety and security were pretty easy to pass. SED and Twi were a little tougher. For SED, we learned everything from understanding how businesses are structured here, how to write a business plan, learn about NGO’s (non government organizations), banking practices and much more. I would have gotten a 96% on the course, but I left my workbook at site and they deducted 5 points for that. Still, not too bad. Twi was not easy either. I had to have a 20 minute conversation in Twi, where they asked me all sorts of things like where I live, where my site was, how to buy things at market.....I passed with an intermediate medium. I am just lucky to have passed. Phew!
Swearing in was quite a hoopla of an event. There was a band playing as we marched to our seats. Our host families were there supporting us for the last time. The Country Director was there, all the Chiefs from the villages where we were staying, the head political man for the region; equivalent to a governor, and the US Ambassador to Ghana. There were speeches, dancing, skits, and a bunch of applauding. It was a great day and we all felt honored and relieved that this part of the journey was completed. It was a weekend of mixed emotions. We were all excited to go to our sites and start our various jobs, but it was also the last time we would see each other for some time. Having spent 3 months in intense training with a group of people, you develop a certain bond and I think there will be some friendships that will last a lifetime.
I arrived in Wenchi knowing I had a lot of support from the people who have asked me to come here and help. I spent a week in Wenchi while in training and met a lot of the folks I will be working with. My counterpart, Baro is the main person who will help me get around, help me communicate with the towns folk, and help understand the cashew business. His father is one of the sub chiefs in the city. My supervisor Ben, is the head of a government organization that supports small businesses. Both have been very helpful and accommodating to my needs.
Wenchi is about the size of Westbrook, maybe a little bigger. Most everyone here are farmers. So even during mid day, the town is pretty quiet, because most people are at farm. My house is located outside of town, about 4 1/2 miles from the office where I will be working. So far I’ve been walking back and forth to work, and I have enjoyed the workout. However, I do plan on getting a bicycle and be riding there and back. The walk is a beautiful one, I walk beside the farms on a rolling hillside overlooking the town. I am thankful that I live in such a beautiful area.
I have had a couple of meetings since I’ve been here, and I do have my work cut out for me! The Wenchi Cashew Farmers Coop is made up of 7 area zones and each zone operates as a small business. My job will be helping them learn proper business skills, as well as marketing, and management skills.
I am hoping to get internet access soon. If all goes well, I will be able to get it on my own computer, and will be able to access Skype and be able to communicate with you all. In the meantime, please continue to write, I love getting emails from you all. Please know that you are in my thoughts, and prayers.
Cheers,
Wayne

Life Half In The Bag

As I noted before, things are a little different here in Ghana...For example, most or all of the shopping is done at small booths... kinda like the size of a small self storage unit. From these “shops” you can get all the important things you need to run a house. Laundry soap (keep in mind that laundry is done by hand, and you buy a bar of soap to wash your clothes), rice, cans of tomatoes, eggs and bread. Yeah, that’s about it... except for the cheap candy from China. Everything else you get is from market. That is where you get your fresh produce, chairs, house hold times and kitchen supplies. I am starting to get acquainted with my market but there are still days I am surprised at what I find. Yesterday I went to market to buy things for my first dinner I was making in Ghana (Jollaf Rice with Chicken). Come with me, in your mind’s eye, as I take you to the market. We get off the main street and walk through an alley way to get to the shops. Keep in mind, when I say alley way or market, throw away all you might be thinking of what this might look like, for I guarantee that it is nothing like what this is. To cross from the main road to the alley, we pass over a plank that spans the width of a cement ditch. Everything runs into this ditch, yes everything. I thank God that it is now the rainy season, which helps to keep these gutters, well I’d like to say clean, but let’s just say clearer of debris and things. I am not looking forward to the dry season, from December to March when it does not rain. The things that will be in the gutters at that time, could be used for chemical warfare. So, now we are in the alley. There are no lawns here in town, and no real yards. Outside the houses (which in most cases are a mud hut or concrete building) are a small area where they cook, do laundry and pound fufu. Outside of this area is where we walk. We have to watch our steps as we go, for there are large rocks that can trip us up and we have to be careful not to step in the waste water (and worse) that is coming out of the houses as it makes it way down to the ditch. When we get to the market area it’s a bunch of stalls that have wooden planks that serve as shelving, scattered in some type of pattern. I have yet to figure out this pattern but there has to be some type of pattern to the way they set this up right?!? Mostly children and women are running their businesses. It seems that whatever is not grown or made here locally, comes from China. We pass one stall that has large metal bowls full of several varieties of dried beans, different kinds of rice and ground nut paste. Ground nut paste is sort of like peanut butter... once you’ve been here for a few months, it tastes just like peanut butter. The next lady is selling onions, peppers and mmmmm garlic. The next stall is a person selling yards of fabric, next to them is a guy wearing a Rafa Ghana hat, making sandals out old tires, while Bob Marley is blaring from a set of old but surprising loud speakers. (No offense Tom, there is nothing wrong with old speakers!) Beside Bob is a line of tailors, all working with sewing machines that are probably older than me, making pants, shirts and dresses. As we get closer to the end of the row, we hear all this banging and pounding. Turning the corner we see something that puts all our senses on overload. The pounding is coming from butchers that line the next passage on both sides. With large butcher knives in their hand, they are cutting up a recently slaughtered cow, goat and lamb. Now, our senses that are on overload; Visual- This is not Hannaford. On the same kind of boards and stalls as previously mentioned are all parts of the cow; from head to hoof. All laying right there as we walk by. audio- aside from hearing them chopping through bones (Ghanians don’t like much in the way of choice cuts, the more bone, fat and gristle in their meat the better), you also hear the buzzing of flies having a feast on this yummy smoargageboard. Touch- as we pass by dodging and swatting at the flies, we must take care that we don’t get hit by a flying piece of bone that comes off the chopping block. Smell- well, I will just have to let your imagination run away with you on that one.... Needless to say, I have not gotten my nerve up to buy anything from the “butcher shop” yet. I have been told by other PC Volunteers, that you can get a very good piece of meat if you are willing to show them what you want. They will look at you like you have four heads, because you aren’t wanting the fat or bones, but you can get a pretty good price on tenderloin and the like. All this time, people are staring at us, kids calling out to us, because we are the only white folks in the market. And if we respond to them in Twi, they will laugh hysterically and repeat what we just said to everyone next to them, which in turn starts them laughing. It’s a crazy maze we have entered, random chicken, goat and sheep walking past as we go. It’s very easy to get turned around and not know how to get out! Ahhh, Shaw’s and Hannaford, eat your heart out! Now, the bags. Remember the bags? (It’s the title of this blog silly). Everything that you could possibly want to buy comes in a bag. Here are some examples: Shopping: Because of the poverty level, a lot of people can not afford to buy a box of rice, or a container of salt. So instead, the vendors will put things in bags. You can buy little bags, .05 peswa’s ( about .03 cents), of spices. Ground nut paste comes in a bag, all produce will be bagged. Dessert: Yes there is dessert in Ghana. Ice Cream!!! See previous blog. This is sold in a small plastic bag about the size of a sandwich bag; just bite the corner off and suck away! Booze: Yes, this would be a great idea in the US, except I am sure the authorities would not think so. Shots are sold in a bag. Rum, Gin and other alcohol is packaged into small plastic bags. Hic!! Water: Pure water sachets are everywhere. If you ever want a cold refreshing drink of water, you will find hawkers selling a large container of pure water sachets on their head, .05 peswa for one, and you will see people walking down the street with a sachet hanging from their mouth. Meals: Who needs forks, knives or even plates??? Just get your dinner in a bag! One of my favorites is a chicken dish. It contains rice, spaghetti, fish sauce, hard boiled egg and chicken. You first start by mushing it all up, tearing open a corner and enjoy! So what if you eat some of the bag, I am sure I’ve eaten much worse things here in Ghana, plus I need to get my roughage in my diet! How ‘bout breakfast? Porridge, night time meal egg sandwich in a bag. Once, no lie, I even saw someone carrying a live rooster with it’s head sticking out of a bag! Hopefully I have given you a glimpse into a small part of my life. Welcome to my world! Now I've let the cat out of the bag. Get it??? Oh, I do crack myself up!

Auntie Rose's Ice Cream

My home stay Mom owns a “store” of sorts. It is about the size of Red’s Eats (for those of you in the know), or about 12x8. She sells a variety of items including sandals (otherwise known as Charlie’s), women shoes, candy, water, food items, laundry soap and ice cream. Her original goal when she started her business was to make $1 Ghana Cedi per day. (This would be equivalent to about .70 cents US). She has met her goal and has asked me to help her with a new vision for the store. 

There are a couple of different brands of ice cream she sells.  I use the word “ice cream” very loosely. It is more like frozen ice. Since I’ve been in Ghana, I have not seen milk, let alone cream. Plus, most places do not have freezers, or, for that matter, electricity. My Mom has no power at the store, but has a freezer at the house and brings  the goods to her shop frozen. The ice cream is in bags, (stay tuned for a blog on “Life in a bag”), similar to popsicles. There is a generic brand, that basically tastes like flavored sugar water. The flavors include cola, pineapple and cocoa and this sells for .10 pesawa (cents). The top of the line is called Fan Ice and that has three flavors; strawberry yogurt- it actually tastes like that, vanilla- tastes like frozen frosting and chocolate, which I think is pretty tasty. Fan Ice sells for .40 pesawa. 

My Mom also makes her own ice cream. She makes it with powdered milk, flour, nutmeg, sugar, vanilla and other things. I can’t tell you everything in it, otherwise I would have to kill you. Because she uses powdered milk, it is more creamy than the other brands. It is far better than the generic one and as good as the Fan Ice, tasting more like frozen pudding.  She only had one flavor, vanilla and was selling it for .05-10 pesawa. I asked her how she came up with the price and she told me that she thought is should be the same as the generic. When I asked her how much it cost her to make it, she had no idea. Welcome to Ghana....

I helped her with an inventory list, figured out the pricing and found that it cost her about .08 pesawa to make. She usually makes one batch a week, on Sundays, and sells out by Tuesday or Wednesday. I encouraged her to increase the price to .15 mainly due to the fact it is so much tastier than the generic, but we also knew that she could not sell it for much more than that. She decided that she would do 2 sizes, one for .10 and the other for .15 and she is still selling out. 

I asked her why she does not make more than one batch a week, and she said that she did not have time, it takes about 3 hours, and she is busy at her store during the week. So, I did the math with her; we figured out that doing one batch, she is making $12 Ghana Cedi, that is profit!!!!! I asked her how long would she have to work at the store to make that kind of profit. It was then we had a “Peace Corps Moment”. A light went on inside her head, she smiled and said that she will make another batch mid week, opening the store a little later one day. It was great! She figured it out by herself, I didn’t have to tell her, I just merely showed her the dots and she connected them. 

I also thought back to when I used to make vanilla pudding when I was a kid, and how my Mom would add some coffee to it to make coffee pudding. Since there is only instant coffee here available and, a bunch of white folks in the village for a few weeks, I suggested we make some coffee ice cream. It is a big hit, and we are selling it for .20 pesawa. She is now thinking about making her own pineapple flavor as well and, selling it to someone else in another town. 

I am so proud of my Mom, she has a great business mind and open to learning. She is a far cry from her original goal of making $1 per day. I hope that my work in Wenchi will be as successful as “Auntie Rose’s Ice Cream”.

To Kill A Rooster

Move over, Harper Lee, Mocking Birds have nothing on Roosters. Instead of Mr. Lee, my book would be more like a Stephen King novel. “The cold sharp steel edge of an axe makes a dull thud as it separates  the head from the body of the accused rooster....” Yes,  I think that is how I would start it. After many nights awake, staring up my ceiling thinking of ways to kill my fowl feather fiend, I have decided to write a quick blog on the experience. 

I usually am in bed by 9:30 and wake up around 6:00 am. I have read other blogs that have talked about the noise in Ghana. It is not trains rattling on the tracks towards their destination, or the angry sounds of taxi horns, or the high shrill of sirens. No, it’s the sound of sheep and goats bleating all night keeping them awake until all hours of the night. I considered myself lucky that my room is on the second story in the front of the house, away from the four legged animals. I have instead a demented, possessed rooster, whose only goal in life that I can see is to keep me from sleeping. 

I can remember back in the States watching a commercial for a sleeping pill, where a rooster is perched on the  window sill, as the early morning sun makes its way up the sky, crowing and keeping the poor lady in bed awake. Well, the thought that the rooster only crows at the crack of dawn it a terrible myth, at least here in Ghana. This loud, obnoxious creature from Hell, crows whenever he damn well feels like it. 

He starts about 1:30  in the morning, just when I am getting into my deep REM sleep. He crows once, waits, and listens for a response. If there is no response,  he tries again 15 minutes later. Please allow me to describe the noise this wretched wraith makes. If he where a singer, he would be one of those singers that just screams the whole time. You can’t understand the words, you can only feel the pent up rage and anger the singer is conveying. Compared to him, a regular rooster would be Barry Manalow, or Mister Rogers. My rooster makes this unearthly scream for prolonged periods of time, and confirms to me that he is not from this world but from the deepest darkest pit of Hell. 

He will do this three times, and, when no other rooster responds, he will wait and hour and do the whole process all over again. Usually by 3:30, he strikes pay dirt, and some other rooster will respond. At that time in the morning, voices travel quite a distance, and from somewhere down the street, I hear a faint cock-a-doodle-doo. That is all he needs. It’s like a person drinking 20 large extra bold Dunkin’ Donuts Coffees. He explodes into a series of crowing, screaming and hacking that continues for the next 2 1/2 hours. 

Now, I consider myself a fairly easy going person, even keeled, and there is not much that gets under my skin. But, lying awake at 3:45, or 4:20, listening to this has tested my patience. Yes, I have my ear plugs in. Yes, the pillow is over my head. Yes and am drugged with Tylenol PM. All to no avail. I don’t think there is a way that I have not thought of on how this dreadful bird could die a long and painful death. I have developed an unhealthy taste for chicken. Every time I am served chicken at home I think, “Could this be Him??” I bite down hard, chew with extra vigor, shredding the flesh with my teeth. But, alas, the next morning the cycle starts all over again...