ACCRA

FROM ACCRA, GHANA

The following entry is an email i sent my mother. I think I'll do it this way during my time here because I often feel most comfortable talking and writing to her about my thoughts, experiences, ideas. I invite anyone to be party to our correspondences on this blog, both to minimize my time writing and to keep a log of my time in Africa.

As a quick anecdote before the email, my name, Jules, is difficult to say here as it comes through the back of the throat. The languages here come from the back of the tongue but not as far back as our more gutteral throat sounds. Therefore, my name has become Jones for the time being. My homestay father coined it (he calls my Canadian roommate name Erin, Irene) and the other students and teachers on my program have taken it up with much humor adding Mr. Jones, or the local familiar title Uncle Jones, and even jokingly the respectful Papa Jones. My American friends have taken it to other extremes: Sgt. Jones, Lt. Jones, Jonesy, etc. I have come to like it and I now introduce myself as Jones, or Kwame Jones -- Kwame means born on Saturday and most ghanaians go by their day of birth name: kofi-friday, akosua-sunday, etc.

Here is my email with Fran:


mama,

great to see that photo of you enjoying yourself! sorry the phone situation is so irritating, but the internet cafe is not so hard to deal with.

this past week i've spent two nights on the beach in accra, one for bob marleys birthday celebration which is a major event over here. in fact, the ghanaian rastas believe themselves to be the original. on the way to the beach i pass the newly built presidential palace which has cost an estimated 400 million dollars to build, mostly funded by the Indian government as the global interest in ghana's previously unknown oil resources grows. apparently there is still 20 or so million to spent on the inside. try to google image it -- it's an outstanding, ridiculous gargantuan asian-looking behemoth on the side of the motorway.

in case you didn't know, kofi annan is the chancellor of the university where i've been attending -- i just found out today! i have spent a good amount of time on my studies as well; i'm finished with two of the 3 books required for our first paper due on monday. maya angelou - gods children need traveling... and beautiful ones are not yet born which i came to love by the second half of the novel.

i have two ghanaian friends who i met at marley's b-day party; kwame and jahfar. kwame is a very down to earth, great guy who likes to talk about culture and music and smoke "wee" as it is called here, and jahfar is a straight up rasta who calls me everyday just to say one love and see you at cocobeach.

some of my fellow students are only just being hit viscerally by the surounding abject poverty and the difficulty of the lives of the people around us. while some choose to talk about it, i found the conversation irrelevant and unproductive. i have come to feel, in the presence of poverty, that my thoughts are best kept in my mind. there is no way for me to separate myself or detach myself from being complicit in the problems of life here, and neither can those who are subject to its hardship. today a lecturer on ghanaian politics explained that violations of human rights by politicians are more important to the elite in the country than they are to the people against whom these atrocities have been committed. the commonfolk here idolize and mythologize john rawlings who committed unforgivable offenses during his 20 years in power. these truths are difficult to swallow and give me much to think about, but i cannot participate in discussion on the issues as i feel the discussion superfluous. i am lucky to have you for a mother, and to be able to explain this to you in writing.

every day i experience three things at different points: at some point i feel on the brink of tears -- not from homesickness, that comes in different ways, but in the privacy of my thoughts. at least once a day i can feel a sob welling, but it doesn't come and i am glad. the second recurring feeling is the overwhelming length of my stay. my homesickness occurs during this moment of the day when the amount of time that i have been here is put into perspective by how much time i have left. however, at some points i feel like i have been here for a month and other times i feel like ive been here for an hour. so there is some balance. the third recurring experience is a huge belly laugh. i haven't spent one day without laughing hard and thick. whether it's a joke made by a friend, or witnessing an event that i find ridiculous, laughter here is common and infectious.

speaking of infectious, i made my first and hopefully only trip to the hospital for the least serious problem that i could have possibly needed medical attention for. my heat rash was getting worse everyday and though it did not itch at all, i got sick of worrying about it and got a couple scrips to help me kick the shit. within two days it was gone and thus, i trust the ghanaian hospitals to a great extent. you will be shocked when i describe the atmosphere of the hospital in person as its professionalism pails in comparison to the west, but its drugs are fucking effective.

anyway, i love you and miss you and i'm having a great experience. i think i'll copy and paste most of this email on my blog so i can minimize time and writing efforts. i will note ythat it is addressed to you. write me back or call me soon, looking forward to hearing from you.
love,
uncle jones