Recently though I got to be the one giving some tough love to the recently arrived short-term EWB volunteer that will be working with me this summer on the ADVANCE project.  As many parents might be familiar with, there is a fine balance between providing guidance and letting someone figure it out on their own.  Tough love is that: providing support while leaving someone to figure it out on their own, take charge of their experience and learning, and push their comfort zone and limits to grow further as an individual.

I’ve guided Erin this past week – spending the entire week with her, introducing her to the ADVANCE staff, to her partner organization ASRuD in the Volta region and taking her to her new town/home.  But I’ve also pushed her – getting her to go around a market by herself, getting her to ride on the back of a motorbike with the field staff, and finally leaving – knowing she’ll be lonely, but also knowing that she needs to be alone to figure it out.  And of course, these experiences where she was pushed a bit farther are the ones she will remember the most.

Tough love – in business and in life it’s a delicate balance that I recommend.

I’m sure I used to be like that. And then again.

It’s interesting to see Ghana through a new perspective, through new eyes.  I’ve become accustomed to life here, to the flow and the noises.  The honking, the near missed car-crashes, the food sellers on the side of the road.  I’m used to being watched, laughed at, standing out.  As we say in Southern Africa, “by now, I am used.”

This new perspective has made me reflect on how much I’ve changed and grown over the past year and a half through my time in Malawi and Ghana working with EWB.

I arrived, terrified of motorbikes.  -  I just bought one.

I used to be diligent about carrying around bug-spray and taking my anti-malarials.  Now, I’m still cautious (and still haven’t had malaria), but more amused by the diligence of others.

I have learned to negotiate with taxi drivers.  I’ve learned to speak with an English-Ghanaian accent.  I’ve learned (and seem unable to break) the proper greetings from Malawi and to a lesser extent Ghana.

I’m used to the heat, the noises, the smells, the pace of life.

These are all a part of me now, maybe more than I realized.  You have to get accustomed to it – you have to learn to live and BE where you are.  But occasionally, it’s good to be reminded of that, and good to see Ghana again through a new set of eyes.

For more reading from these new volunteers, go to:

Erin Flanagan

Amir Allana

Sarah Legg

Anne Lombardi

I went to buy water this morning.  Water sachets cost 5 peswes.  I had 5 peswes… in 1 peswe coins.  I don’t like change, so I tried to use it.  The girl refused.  She wouldn’t take my money; she wanted nothing to do with my 1 peswe coins.   So instead I had to break my bigger change and get more coins.

I left rehydrated, but contemplating the value of money.  It was a reminder that money is only as good as the value you place on it.  Even a 14 year old Ghanaian girl selling water knows that.   It makes you wonder what these coins are actually good for…

When I look around me at the coffee shop, I see pictures of children, women, grandparents in desperate need of help.  When I turn on the news, I hear stories of war, of drought, of disease.  When I talk to my friends and family I hear questions of “Is it safe?” “Why are you doing this again?” “You must be so brave.”

This is not bravery because the Africa I see depicted in Canada is not the Africa I know.  It is not Malawi with its friendly quiet people and beautiful scenery.  It is not Zambia with its wide stretches of land and bustling capital.  It is not South Africa with its recent football craze, big highways and really good wine.  It is not Kenya with its defiant and determined culture, its beading, its beaches, its markets.  It is not Ghana with its spicy food, colorful dress, jazzy music and helpful, boisterous people.

Of course there are disasters, there is disease and there are wars.  They are terrible, and no one feels it harder than the people of Africa.  Because that image is portrayed upon Africans.  It is an image they did not ask for, often did not deserve, but must fight in order to compete and excel in the rest of the world.

It’s time to rebrand Africa: http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa5327/is_358/ai_n42116626/?tag=content;col1

Akuzike, carrying her “baby” on her back; like mother, like daughter.

This picture is of a little girl; a lovely, talkative, smart Malawian girl called Akuzike.  She will face many challenges in her life, certainly, but she also has many opportunities.  Her smile is infectious.  She loves to read.  She has learned to speak English as well as her native Chichewa.  She is stubborn, determined, independent.  All of this at 2 years old!  She loves school, fashion, shoes, books.  She wants to be like her mother (who is equally as stubborn and independent.)

So when I think of Malawi, when I think of Africa, I think of her and all the changes she’s going to be able to create as she grows up.

What is your image of Africa now?

But there is a somber side as well, coming from a turbulent past that is still remembered by the structures and history left behind: the old Dutch, Portuguese and British slave forts and castles.  Elmina Castle and Cape Coast Castle are the best known;  others are scattered along the coastline.

Like the castles of before the revolution in France, the ruins left behind from centuries of clan warfare and invasions in Scotland, the trenches and beach in Normandy and Dieppe, the holocaust museums in Poland, etc, the Elmina Fort and Cape Coast Castle stand as reminders of a dark past.

Like these other reminders of difficult times, there is a strange and delicate juxtaposition to be reached; between knowing your past and moving beyond it, letting it shape you while letting your path be shaped by your own time.  Elimna is trying to find that balance by educating about the past and pleading for it to never happen again, and forgiving and moving on.  In the words of our guide: “Let bygones be bygones.”   Not to forget, but rather to move forward together.

This is a hope we can all share and a good lesson to take away from an emotional experience.

(Fishing Village in Elmina featured in George Ayittey’s TED talk.)