Last night, I had an interesting run-in with local law enforcement. I was walking in the city at approximately 9:00pm (which means that it was pitch black) with another intern from work. We were trying to find a tro-tro station, and so we were asking around for directions. As we made our way to the station, we inadvertently stepped on what turned out to be an extremely troublesome patch of grass. As we soon discovered, there happened to be a small (and I mean, small) wooden sign that warned people to keep off the grass (or pay a GH¢10 fine, equivalent to about $8 CDN). We were waved over to speak with a Ghanaian police officer, who was ... ummm ... not very pleasant. Despite our apologies, he insisted on taking us to the police station so we could pay our fine.
This is when things got a little weird. The police officer walked us to the station (which turned out to be about two hours away on foot, though we didn't know it at the time). During the walk, he suggested that it would be a good idea if we could gather all our money so we could pay the fine (which was supposedly in the range of hundreds of dollars). He also walked us by other police officers (including one very pleasant police sergeant), and introduced us as his "friends" (not wanting to create conflict, we just smiled and nodded). He also told us (repeatedly) a story about how he was deported from a country (Canada? US?) for ... stepping in a flower bed? ...not having his papers in order? He was not very clear, and the details seemed to change in each of his seven or so retellings of the story. I can't help but doubt the veracity of his claims - for example, he said that he was a horse jockey (and this was not a small man). It was odd, though - despite our situation, at no point did I feel my safety was threatened. We were always by a main road, and surrounded by people at all times.
It was certainly a harrowing experience, but all is well that ends well. We didn't cave, and ended up being sent home in a taxi (without paying any fine!). The police officer (who basically performed a solo good-cop-bad-cop routine) gave us his phone number, and told us that we should call him so he could "take us to see the waterfalls and elephants". We returned home safely, and managed to keep a good sense of humor about the whole thing.
Just to be clear, in no way do I believe that we should have been held above the law just because we were foreigners. However, when there were other people who were walking through the grass (just ahead of us!), I think it was understandable that we would have assumed it was lawful to do the same.
In other news, I've officially been in Ghana for a week! It's hard to believe, because the time went by incredibly quickly. The work environment at CEPIL is fantastic; my co-workers (both Ghanian and North American) are great people (plus, y'know, there's air-conditioning).
The water is out in Accra this weekend (word is that a turbine needs to be replaced), so I'm contemplating a retreat to one of the multitude of nearby beach towns.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Stormy beaches and electric bars
So, the first few days of my African adventure have already come and gone! There have been a few moments of stress (most notably when I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find long-term accommodations), but overall the transition has been pretty smooth.
I'm staying at the international student hostel at the University of Ghana (slightly outside of Accra proper). I'm aware that I'm in somewhat of a bubble, but it is easy enough to get into town (via the ubiquitous "tro-tros" - those are a whole post unto themselves). I've been doing my best to see as much as possible. Accra is a vibrant and friendly city, but it is impossible to avoid the rampant poverty. Although I'm regularly confronted with it, I'm reflexively (perhaps necessarily?) distancing myself emotionally. I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I think it would be massively overwhelming to digest the human suffering in any other way (again, this is probably a post unto itself). I'm also stunned by the amount of Asian influence on the city's development. A lot of the major contracts are handed to Japanese and Korean developers, and I've heard a lot of Ghanians call at me with "Nee-How!" or some other Asian language.
Today, I took an out-of-town excursion with fellow CEPIL/CLA intern Annette and a Ghanian CEPIL employee named Sule. We went to a small oceanfront town named Fete. As soon as we got there, it started raining (HARD). We weathered the storm, and (once the rain subsided) had a very relaxing day on the beach. Due to my rock-esque swimming technique, I mostly sat and read science fiction (yeah, I'm a huge dork - gorgeous beach, and my nose is in a book). The rain must have also short-circuited something, because when we went to have lunch at the oceanside bar we were treated with an electric surprise. Direct contact with the bar produced a small jolt (of course, when I was told this, I immediately touched the bar). Even hovering your hand a few centimeters above the bar produced a tingling sensation.
I (and I suspect others) have difficulty coming to terms with the word "ocean". To me, it's similar to the word "space". I have an intellectual appreciation for the term, but also a perceptual gap that prohibits me from obtaining a true visceral understanding. To my senses, the ocean is a.) salty, b.) something that I fly over from time to time, and c.) the 2 km or so of water that extends past a beach. The concept is too vast for me to fully wrap my mind around it (or perhaps my experiences are just too limited).
(Paragraphs 2 and 4 are also probably related in some way.)
I'm staying at the international student hostel at the University of Ghana (slightly outside of Accra proper). I'm aware that I'm in somewhat of a bubble, but it is easy enough to get into town (via the ubiquitous "tro-tros" - those are a whole post unto themselves). I've been doing my best to see as much as possible. Accra is a vibrant and friendly city, but it is impossible to avoid the rampant poverty. Although I'm regularly confronted with it, I'm reflexively (perhaps necessarily?) distancing myself emotionally. I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I think it would be massively overwhelming to digest the human suffering in any other way (again, this is probably a post unto itself). I'm also stunned by the amount of Asian influence on the city's development. A lot of the major contracts are handed to Japanese and Korean developers, and I've heard a lot of Ghanians call at me with "Nee-How!" or some other Asian language.
Today, I took an out-of-town excursion with fellow CEPIL/CLA intern Annette and a Ghanian CEPIL employee named Sule. We went to a small oceanfront town named Fete. As soon as we got there, it started raining (HARD). We weathered the storm, and (once the rain subsided) had a very relaxing day on the beach. Due to my rock-esque swimming technique, I mostly sat and read science fiction (yeah, I'm a huge dork - gorgeous beach, and my nose is in a book). The rain must have also short-circuited something, because when we went to have lunch at the oceanside bar we were treated with an electric surprise. Direct contact with the bar produced a small jolt (of course, when I was told this, I immediately touched the bar). Even hovering your hand a few centimeters above the bar produced a tingling sensation.
I (and I suspect others) have difficulty coming to terms with the word "ocean". To me, it's similar to the word "space". I have an intellectual appreciation for the term, but also a perceptual gap that prohibits me from obtaining a true visceral understanding. To my senses, the ocean is a.) salty, b.) something that I fly over from time to time, and c.) the 2 km or so of water that extends past a beach. The concept is too vast for me to fully wrap my mind around it (or perhaps my experiences are just too limited).
(Paragraphs 2 and 4 are also probably related in some way.)
Friday, May 22, 2009
In Accra!
So, I've managed to make my way into Accra!
It's been quite an experience so far. My original plans for accommodation fell through, so I relied on the famous Ghanian hospitality (Ian's extended family) to get me through the night. For the better part of today, I've been trying to find a place to stay (so as to not be too much of a burden), and it looks like I'll be (at least temporarily, if not permanently) residing at the Legon campus of the University of Ghana, in their International Student Hostel. It's quite nice, and there are lots of other international students around. There are a few more administrative University hurdles to jump, but I should be able to sort those out in due course.
As for Ghana itself - well, it's quite hot, which was to be expected. It's also very beautiful, and the hospitality has been incredible. I guess the biggest surprise for me is just how nicely everyone dresses. A lot of the guys are wearing stylish jeans or pressed pants, with fashionable button-up shirts or polos. The women have well-styled hair, and wear bright colors. Somehow, shoes manage to stay very nicely polished despite the omnipresent dust.
Despite how Western some things and places may seem, I can still feel that it's ... different. With my eyes closed, standing in the middle of an air-conditioned room with Western music playing, I feel like I could still tell you that I was in Ghana. Once I settle down into a routine, and find some permanency in my accommodations, I think that I'll feel much more at home.
It's been quite an experience so far. My original plans for accommodation fell through, so I relied on the famous Ghanian hospitality (Ian's extended family) to get me through the night. For the better part of today, I've been trying to find a place to stay (so as to not be too much of a burden), and it looks like I'll be (at least temporarily, if not permanently) residing at the Legon campus of the University of Ghana, in their International Student Hostel. It's quite nice, and there are lots of other international students around. There are a few more administrative University hurdles to jump, but I should be able to sort those out in due course.
As for Ghana itself - well, it's quite hot, which was to be expected. It's also very beautiful, and the hospitality has been incredible. I guess the biggest surprise for me is just how nicely everyone dresses. A lot of the guys are wearing stylish jeans or pressed pants, with fashionable button-up shirts or polos. The women have well-styled hair, and wear bright colors. Somehow, shoes manage to stay very nicely polished despite the omnipresent dust.
Despite how Western some things and places may seem, I can still feel that it's ... different. With my eyes closed, standing in the middle of an air-conditioned room with Western music playing, I feel like I could still tell you that I was in Ghana. Once I settle down into a routine, and find some permanency in my accommodations, I think that I'll feel much more at home.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Meet Ben
Meet Ben Palafox. I'm typing this post on the couch in his living room, which Ben has generously offered me for my two nights in London. Ben lives in a modest yet incredibly tasteful part of town (a few blocks down the way is Kate Moss's flat, so I'm told).
Ben and I originally met just under two years ago, in Moncton, when we were both participating in the federal french language bursary program. Based on our proficiency tests, we were sorted into one of five levels; Ben was Niveau Cinq, while I was in Niveau Trois. One day during the program, we were working on French versions of our resumés. This was towards the end of the program, but I managed to snag a glance at Ben's; I remember thinking that it was one of the most impressive resumés I had ever seen. I cannot recall its specifics, except for my thought that the words "fellowship" and "founder" appeared with fantastic regularity for someone in their 20s. He obtained an MSc. PH - DC from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine (which, he translates, is like a Master's in Public Health but with a specialization in Developing Countries).
Despite all this, Ben remains an incredibly humble guy. He dresses more like a musician or an artist than he does an academic, though he manages to do this without any pretension or appearance of effort. Today, like most days, he went to work in jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a vintage cardigan. It's worth noting that at our just-for-fun awards ceremony at the end of the French immersion program, he was a finalist in the "Best Dressed" category. It helps that he's a handsome, fresh-faced guy (who, by the way, is incapable of growing facial hair - when we stopped at a convenience store so I could pick up a razor, he marveled at the high price, since he has never had to purchase one).
I'm going to make a bold claim: Ben's job is one of the most important jobs in the world. I'm going to attempt to convey my very superficial understanding of his work.
As anyone who has done a significant amount of international traveling is aware, malaria is an enormous problem. The UN estimates between 1-3 million people are killed by malaria each year, with the vast majority of those deaths occurring in sub-Saharan Africa. To exacerbate the issue (as if it needed exacerbating), many strains of malaria have become resistant to the oldest (which in many cases is synonymous with "cheapest" and "most widely available") drug treatments. Part of the issue is that, unlike some other infectious diseases, the distribution of prophylactic antimalarial meds can be handled in a largely impersonal way - very little contact needs to be made with a doctor. Therefore, drug-resistant malarial strains are often poorly understood by the local population, resulting in expenditures on pharmaceuticals that may offer little to zero protection against infection. So, not only are they taking ineffective medications, but they are keeping these inferior medications in the market.
A new initiative that you probably haven't heard of yet (but will undoubtedly over the next little while) involves massive subsidies aimed at lowering the price of the newer (more expensive) effective medications, to the point where their prices are on par with the older drugs. The theory is that the older drugs will be phased out of the market, and therefore the effective drugs will have to come down in price (thereby obviating the need for a subsidy). However, this theory has never been put to practice on a scale quite as large as this one. Billions of dollars will be spent on this initiative - it's basically the biggest public health experiment the world has ever seen.
So, Ben will also be traveling to Africa this summer. He'll be in Nigeria, researching the distribution and supply chains for antimalarial medications. He'll then pare this massive amount of data into concise reports, which in turn will be used to supplement Nigeria's funding applications to the Global Fund. To produce these reports, Ben requires an understanding of the epidemiological, pharmacological, economic, and legal issues related to these chains. His team of five are basically the only people in the entire world who understand these issues on a holistic level.
In summary: Ben Palafox is the man (and he also has a ridiculously comfortable couch).
Tomorrow: Landing in Accra!
Ben and I originally met just under two years ago, in Moncton, when we were both participating in the federal french language bursary program. Based on our proficiency tests, we were sorted into one of five levels; Ben was Niveau Cinq, while I was in Niveau Trois. One day during the program, we were working on French versions of our resumés. This was towards the end of the program, but I managed to snag a glance at Ben's; I remember thinking that it was one of the most impressive resumés I had ever seen. I cannot recall its specifics, except for my thought that the words "fellowship" and "founder" appeared with fantastic regularity for someone in their 20s. He obtained an MSc. PH - DC from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine (which, he translates, is like a Master's in Public Health but with a specialization in Developing Countries).
Despite all this, Ben remains an incredibly humble guy. He dresses more like a musician or an artist than he does an academic, though he manages to do this without any pretension or appearance of effort. Today, like most days, he went to work in jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a vintage cardigan. It's worth noting that at our just-for-fun awards ceremony at the end of the French immersion program, he was a finalist in the "Best Dressed" category. It helps that he's a handsome, fresh-faced guy (who, by the way, is incapable of growing facial hair - when we stopped at a convenience store so I could pick up a razor, he marveled at the high price, since he has never had to purchase one).
I'm going to make a bold claim: Ben's job is one of the most important jobs in the world. I'm going to attempt to convey my very superficial understanding of his work.
As anyone who has done a significant amount of international traveling is aware, malaria is an enormous problem. The UN estimates between 1-3 million people are killed by malaria each year, with the vast majority of those deaths occurring in sub-Saharan Africa. To exacerbate the issue (as if it needed exacerbating), many strains of malaria have become resistant to the oldest (which in many cases is synonymous with "cheapest" and "most widely available") drug treatments. Part of the issue is that, unlike some other infectious diseases, the distribution of prophylactic antimalarial meds can be handled in a largely impersonal way - very little contact needs to be made with a doctor. Therefore, drug-resistant malarial strains are often poorly understood by the local population, resulting in expenditures on pharmaceuticals that may offer little to zero protection against infection. So, not only are they taking ineffective medications, but they are keeping these inferior medications in the market.
A new initiative that you probably haven't heard of yet (but will undoubtedly over the next little while) involves massive subsidies aimed at lowering the price of the newer (more expensive) effective medications, to the point where their prices are on par with the older drugs. The theory is that the older drugs will be phased out of the market, and therefore the effective drugs will have to come down in price (thereby obviating the need for a subsidy). However, this theory has never been put to practice on a scale quite as large as this one. Billions of dollars will be spent on this initiative - it's basically the biggest public health experiment the world has ever seen.
So, Ben will also be traveling to Africa this summer. He'll be in Nigeria, researching the distribution and supply chains for antimalarial medications. He'll then pare this massive amount of data into concise reports, which in turn will be used to supplement Nigeria's funding applications to the Global Fund. To produce these reports, Ben requires an understanding of the epidemiological, pharmacological, economic, and legal issues related to these chains. His team of five are basically the only people in the entire world who understand these issues on a holistic level.
In summary: Ben Palafox is the man (and he also has a ridiculously comfortable couch).
Tomorrow: Landing in Accra!
Monday, May 18, 2009
In Calgary
I'm waiting for my flight in the Calgary Airport. Specifically, I'm sitting in the Tim Horton's at YYC, which seems like an incredibly apropos location for my final few hours in Canada. In two hours, I'll be flying into London (the big one, not the little one), where I'll spend a couple days before boarding a plane to Accra. I have this nagging feeling that I have forgotten something, but I'm hoping that's just normal.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Basically, the world is freaking awesome
It is impossible to watch this video without smiling:
I laughed pretty darn hard at the DMZ part. Honestly, that four-and-a-half minutes of video did way more to get me stoked for my upcoming travels than all the travel guides and articles I have been reading (although, to be clear, those are also getting me fairly stoked). Overall, the level of stoked-ness is quite high.
Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
I laughed pretty darn hard at the DMZ part. Honestly, that four-and-a-half minutes of video did way more to get me stoked for my upcoming travels than all the travel guides and articles I have been reading (although, to be clear, those are also getting me fairly stoked). Overall, the level of stoked-ness is quite high.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Chris's Ghana Blog is Up!!!
Hello gentle readers, and welcome to "Ghana 'Till September*: Chris Samuel's Trials and Tribulations in Accra, Ghana". Aside from the classic Ghana pun, there's another non-obvious one in the subheading. You see, I'll be working at the Centre for Public Interest Litigation doing some legal(-ish) work (get it? trials? get it? yeah, you get it.). I arrive in Ghana on May 21st, which is less than two weeks away. Flights are booked, my visa is secured, immunizations are coursing through my system. The only thing I have left to do is find a place to stay, but I've totally got someone helping me out with that.
Until then, I'm just spending time in Edmonton visiting with friends and getting ready for my departure. My to-do list included getting the blog up and running, but I can totally cross it out now. The layout could still probably use some work, but I'm comfortable leaving it as a work-in-progress (which, realistically, is where it will stay for the rest of the summer. Deal with it, you black-background-haters).
Oh! And one more thing! If you like this blog, and you're a generous and kind-hearted person (and I know you are), then you can feel free to donate and help cover my expenses. You can visit the Canadian Lawyers Abroad profile on the canadahelps.org website, and click on "Donate Now" and select "University of New Brunswick". You get a tax receipt! Those are waaaay better than a regular receipts (which you usually just throw out, needlessly wasting paper).
* Props to Josh "The Franchise" Egan for the blog title.
Until then, I'm just spending time in Edmonton visiting with friends and getting ready for my departure. My to-do list included getting the blog up and running, but I can totally cross it out now. The layout could still probably use some work, but I'm comfortable leaving it as a work-in-progress (which, realistically, is where it will stay for the rest of the summer. Deal with it, you black-background-haters).
Oh! And one more thing! If you like this blog, and you're a generous and kind-hearted person (and I know you are), then you can feel free to donate and help cover my expenses. You can visit the Canadian Lawyers Abroad profile on the canadahelps.org website, and click on "Donate Now" and select "University of New Brunswick". You get a tax receipt! Those are waaaay better than a regular receipts (which you usually just throw out, needlessly wasting paper).
* Props to Josh "The Franchise" Egan for the blog title.
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