Kabonbu...

Sorry for the long delay in posts and I apologize for the quality of this one in advance I have been pretty busy with work but wanted to get something up just to let everyone know what I have been up to and that I am still alive.

Well the last week and a half I spent back in the Saboba-Chereponi district. This time however no termite cloud trying to invade my accommodations. The first day I spent meeting with some of the partner organizations and local government getting a feel for how they work and run the project in the district. At about 1 pm on Monday a storm was starting to brew up on the horizon. No big deal I thought just a typically thunderstorm sounds about right for the beginning of the rainy season. We were supposed to meet with the District Corodinating Exective at 2-2:30 to say our hello and what we plan to do in the district as he is the representative from the government responsible for the district. I guess the DCE is kind of like an MPP or county Mayor in the Canadian system. Well the clouds on the horizon where really starting to churn up and there was no doubt that it was going to rain and soon. As the dark blanket began to cover the town you would have thought that something was chasing everyone as they hurried on their way and closed down their shops. On our way to the DCE we stopped to meet another PO only to find that they had left for the day on account of the impending rains. Soon after at about 1:30 the skies opened up and dropped what seemed like bucket sized rain drops to the earth. So off to the district assembly I went with the hopes of meeting the DCE to get the formalities of the visit out of the way.

2pm…then 2:15…then 2:30…2:45

I soon have the feeling that he may have either forgotten about our meeting or has also called it a day. Unfortunately meeting with him was not an option so after a few questions we are prompted to just drop by the DCE’s residence and he should be there. Off we go. Upon arriving at his residence his caretaker directs us to the front door and assures us that he is in as he tries and shields himself from the deluge. I quickly trudge through the rain and knock at his front door. Luckily his residence has a cover porch so I am out of the rain for a bit. Good thing too because just when I think that he is in fact not in and am about to leave the door opens. On the other side is the DCE in his boxer shorts and undershirt inviting us to come in. My first reaction is to say we can come back at a more convienent time and apologize for interrupting him but to him it is no big deal. So we enter and have a seat at the couch with the DCE still in his underwear mind you and have a discussion about the weather, our plans for the week, the noise of the rain on the tin roof and various other things. Just imagine having small talk with your mayour or MPP in their underwear and it not being a big deal at all. After all why should it? We all have underwear on don’t we?

Anyways for the rest of the week we met with some more organizations, communities and key stakeholders. Expect more detail on the actual project and contribution in on the next posts. As I am in the process of compiling my thoughts on work both for this and for a presentation I have to make next week at CWSA. So I promise project specific details in an upcoming issue in the near future.

But the big news is Kabonbu Village. From Friday to Monday I spent living with a community or about 250 people near the Togo border. Kabonbu is about 3 hours east of Tamale and about 40 minutes south of Saboba down a dirt road that at times is questionably passable. But the turn of to the village can onlky be found to someone who knows the area to me it seemed like a small animal track like a dear or rabbit track in Canada. The only real marking is a tree at the side of the road but how you tell it from all the other trees is still up in the air to me. The foot track soon widens as it leaves the “main” roadway and is more desernable. Another 10 minutes down this path and up a small hill and at the top is Kabonbu a community of 250 people in 8 houses. Earlier in the week I visited and asked the chief for his permission to stay in the village in order to better understand their daily lives. Well as my vehicle left on its way back to Tamale and I stood in the village trying to find someone to speak with I was wondering if this was the best plan I had ever thought of and that this could be a long four days. I young boy runs off into the surrounding farm land to bring back the chief. I great him and we make out with a bit of English and hand gestures that he is to sending for his brother at another farm who I will stay with and is good at English. About 30 minutes later George Ugbanjab arrives, the chiefs brother, and my new landlord for the next four days. Luckily Goerge can speak a bit of English so he helps me to learn Kokomba the local dilect in the region and shows me around the village. This doesn’t take very long as there are only eight houses and I suggest that we go back to his farm as I don’t want to keep him from his work. I explain that I want to just try and live like they do and farm when they do. At first he is unsure of this but off to the farm we go. The heat of the afternoon is unbearable and I wonder how anyone could keep up working in this all day. I wonder if this is the best idea and if I can actually do this. We move away from the main community and into their farming area. The first day we really don’t do any farming and George just shows me around and explains the different types of crops and introduces me to more members of the community. At around 5:30 we head back into the community.

By this time most of the men have returned from their fields and are siting around the main tree drinking pito a homemade wine. As we sit around I soon learn that they are discussing what they will feed me and if I will actually go to farm tomorrow. I try and explain that I will eat anything that they normally have and to not go out of their way on my account. However that is not there way I am a guest and am soon presented with a guinea fowl, which I learn afterwards is the highest delicacy in the kokomba tribe, which I am to inspect and we are to eat tonight. It is whisked away and the next time I see the creature is split in two and being prepared for dinner. My host directs me to the bath house which is a section within the compound with short walls and a drain to the outside for water to run out. It is now long after night fall and I proceed to take a bucket shower (kind of like a bird bath). It is pretty surreal. Over head is an open sky darker than any I have ever seen with the stars as the only form of light. There is not electricity around for a few kilometers I imagine. As I bathe I can here the rhythmic thumping of a mortar and pestle as the women are preparing TZ to go with the guinea fowl. Accompanying the hypnotic beat are flashes of lightning in the distance as a storm passes over another part of the country or perhaps Togo. I finish bathing and move into the Obi that I will be sharing with George and his wife Mary for the next three nights. It is small but comfortable with mud walls and a thatch roof. Soon Mary arrives and brings in a heaping bowl of TZ and the guinea fowl soup. TZ I really enjoy and guinea fowl is really good too so I thought I would have no problems with this meal but then I wonder what are those yellowish-orange globes staring at me through the night air and thick soup. I find out that they are partially developed guinea eggs that were inside the bird and a delicacy. Oh yeah and also they are for me to “chop” (i.e. eat). So there is no avoiding it the bird was especially killed for me and those yellow globes which I swear are pulsating have got my name all over them. Well no beating around the bush I reach down into the soup and grab one and through it in my mouth. And they are actually not bad once you get paste the psychological factor. So after we eat which by the way is way more than I could normally ever eat but I try my best and finish as much as I can it is pretty late and I am tired to George directs me to the obi to where he has made me a cot to sleep it. I try and convince him that I will be fine on the floor on the mat and that he can have his fot but once again he is having none of this as I am the guest and that is the end of it. Tomorrow we agree to get up early and go the farm.

It is about 5 am or shortly there after when the women get up to go fetch water for the morning and start to make the morning meal. The men get up at around 5:30-6 and start by greeting each other and chewing on chewing sticks which are kind of like tooth brushes. It is shortly after 6:15 when we finish our TZ and head out to the farm. Today we will “farm small” George says and he finds me a hoe to use and off we go. As we are walking to the field I notice that my hoe is much smaller than George’s. As we get to georges plot of land two of his brothers are there already and I notice that my hoe is much smaller than theirs also. Of course I say nothing at the time and it is only afterward that I learn that they gave me a smaller hoe so it would be easier for me. We begin by using the hoe to turn the soil in order for the grasses to die and to prepare to plant ground nuts (peanuts) after the next rain. Luckily the rain in the distance the previous night has turned into complete cloud cover and the heat of the day is stayed off for a while. I try and get to work trying to till the soil and geoerge and his brothers and more than willing to instruct me in how to use the hoe. They make it seem so effortless but now I am grateful that I have the small hoe as it is much more difficult than they make it appear. As will be no surprise to my father I am soon developing blisters on my hands as I do not have the hands of a labourer. My host finds this amussing and requests that I rest “small-small”. I take a quick break to lick my wounds and watch the three men really get into it. They work together to till a row at time one behind the other. With me out of the way they really pick up the pace. Not to be left out tof the action for too long I pick up my little hoe and start at another end of the field. We carry on like this for a few hours and just when I think my hands will fall off and my back will stayed permanently curved over Mary arrives with lunch and some water. It is still very overcast and I realize that if it were not and the sun was up I’m not sure if I could actually do this. These are really hard workers. We carry on after work. All told we till about an half an arce of land I guess. Well really george and his brother till about 95% of the land and I try with about the rest that they sometimes go over to make look good. During this time the women have been preparing breakfast and lunch, fetching water and cleaning, after they have fed the men in some of them come out to tend their own fields or fetch fire wood. The women are truly amazing. Where they find the energy to keep it up day after day is a wonder. I really don’t think that I can articulate how hard they work from before sunrise to long after sunset. It makes me think about why I am here.

I may not be able to solve all the problems or come up with a magic solution to poverty but I can make a contribution however small. This may be what it is all about, if we all can make a contribution in our own way we can work together to end poverty. In a thunderstorm no single drop of rain is going to make that much of a difference but counted together if it rains long enough it will create a flood. If we want we can create a flood of support, support to our politicians to make pro-development decisions, support to each other to help our fellow man and support to someone half way around the world. All we have to do is choose to make a stance.

I think that is all I have for right now I will try and get to some more reflection and writing soon.

Take care and God Bless,

Jason