Last Day in Tamale

The View from the Bus: the busy streets of Tamale

Walking through the crowded streets of early market day, Tamale seems dirty and crazy, but really pretty friendly. People want to talk to you, and you find you want to talk to people. Running errands becomes easier the braver you become: you will have to dart across the crowded street between large busses, packed taxis, screeching motorbikes, goats, sheep and other terrified pedestrians; you will have to coax and barter with men in your Ghanaian accent, telling them that your friend only paid half of his asking price for a cheap chinese-imported plastic mirror; you will have to refuse beggars and children, looking to profit from the wealth that comes tattooed on you with your white skin. But amongst all this, the thick clouds of leaded gasoline smoke, the yelling voices and the old-Kensington-market smell of meat butchered on a street with a machete, there are friends hiding everywhere.

The MetroMass bus station: as many people as Tokyo, in one eighth the space.

Today I accidentally drew a crowd of 20-- refusing a marriage proposal with the fact that I am "married" led me to bring out my photo book, and answer four-dozen impassioned questions about snow, busses, the homeless, and whether they could marry my sister (thats you, Steph! Want a Ghanaian husband?). An offhand mention of how a new acquaintance had the same name as my godfather led to an invitation for dinner, and an offer of a free TV. Many of them, upon learning that I work for an NGO, had some questions that I ask myself: what am I doing for the Ghanaian people? What will I tell Canada about them? What will I do to help Ghanaians free themselves from poverty? I send the questions back at them--ask -them- what I should do. Most of them laugh in the good-natured way so common here, and say they do not know.
Tomorrow I embark on my first combined bus-trotro ride on my way back to Nalerigu. With luck, the place I am staying (hopefully for the summer) will be ready for my arrival--but Cat warns that I am in West Africa, where things rarely go right. We will see how it goes, whether I get the chance to start putting down roots immediately, or if it needs to be deferred a little longer.

When I get to Nalerigu, I have quite the task in front of me. Along with getting myself set up in my place (with a post with pictures to follow, of course), I have to meet the King of the Mamprusus, the Chief of Nalerigu, the District Assembly office, and the Ministry of Food and Agriculture outpost. Plus, we have to start on our work for the CIFs project--food security initiatives in East Mamprusi villages, including training, field facilitation, and proposal writing.

We'll see how this goes! Wish me luck!

-Ash