names

I met some student's on the beach at Kokrobite the other day. They were from Denmark and African studies students just like my group 12 years ago. It made me reflect a lot upon broken dreams and life's surprising twists and turns. Getting where I am has certainly involved a lack of planning. I am happy but not even close to the person I was going to be!

When I first arrived in Ghana in 1995 I became known as Akos. This means I was born on a Sunday - I wasn't - but people gave me the name and I took it. It made me feel part of things – but of course it just highlighted how much I was not a part of things as I knew so little I took the wrong name. However, it is part of my history and who I am. It seems silly to change it now.

At this time in my life I was firmly 'Sister Akos' to nearly all who knew me and Akos to those older than me. Of course I was also Obroni (white) but generally only to those who did not know me. Now my stature, my age and my children have matured me and I am now known only as 'Auntie', 'Auntie Akos' or sometimes simply as Maame (mother). Now normally the only people who call me sister Akos are impossibly old or huge ladies with whom I am considered on a level. In Ghana all of this is very respectful and I appreciate it. My boss for example is sometimes called Grandma despite being nowhere close to this age – it is simply a sign of respect.

However, my husband and his brothers and sisters could and should still call me sister Akos – not least because they are all older than me. They don't because they are amused at my horror of being called Auntie. It seems you are never too old or mighty (a very nice term to describe larger women here thus not the horror of Evans but rather 'mighty clothes of the mightly lady in store now') for someone to take the piss.

I am pleased at my lasted twi acusition though "please don't call me white. My name is Lotte and I would like to be called Akos'. It has made me feel much more part of the neighbourhood to be greated like everyone else.

For those who asked. The insults in traffic are generally very mild although at one point I did resort to telling a guy his car was ugly and when he still insisted on driving into us I hit it - hard many times. My twi it seems is just a prerequisite to the ultimate miming and gestures that follow.

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At home with the Bakoji-Hume's

At home with the Bakoji-Hume's

21 April

Legend has it that once, a long time ago, a hunter from the great Ashanti nation in Ghana followed a deer deep into the bush and down a hill. Here he found a beautiful lake, with no rivers leading in or out, that was full of fish. He thanked the deer and ate the fish. So a settlement was founded and each year the lake grew and the fish were bountiful. The gods decreed that no iron should enter the lake and everyone obeyed and everyone was happy. This place was called Bosumtwi.

Today Bosumtwi is over fished and ravaged by slash and burn farming. The once bountiful rainforest that surrounded Bosumtwi is crisscrossed with scars of red soil that flow into the lake when it rains. From the peoples talk it seems the rains themselves are changing coming heavier but less often. However, even though it has suffered it is still a beautiful magical place.

Now another legend is growing. This time they say scientists and modern day wise men came following a meteorite star they believe fell thousand of years ago. They come to Bosumtwi and saw not the Lake but the hole – they said where did this come from? A bore was drilled deep into the centre of the lake to find rock samples to answer their question – the villagers who remembered the gods were nervous of their metal boat and their metal drill – but the chiefs had agreed and no one heard them. The scientists drilled.

No one at the lakeside seems to know how this new legend ends. Some say the lake is not from a meteorite. They warn of a volcano bubbling below and waiting to take all. Some say the lake is from a meteorite and full of diamonds or gold – they think people want them to leave so they can take all. It is hard to know how the legend of Bosumtwi will end but it is painfully likely that most answers will bring suffering to the people here.

In somewhere like Bosumtwi I imagine the effects of mining would be devastating. The reliance on the Lake means even limited access to it could have a dramatic affect on the villages. If the water was to become contaminated, as it has at mine sites such as at Tarkwa, it would be unimaginable. At Tarkwa the river was made unsafe to drink and nearly every living organism in it was killed. Horrendous - but with hope - because a river flows and therefore stands a chance of cleaning itself. This is not the case for Lake Bosumtwi

If it is a volcano and it blows up it seems it could come as a deadly cloud of gas. Or maybe, as the villagers seem to expect, things will just stay the same. But as the weather dries and the slash and burn continues around the lake there is another deadly cloud creeping down the mountain. This one is made of the dust eroded from the mountain side and slowly filling the lake in the crater below. There is another water pollutant too as people who have washed in the lake for years no longer use natural soap but turn to the extra cleaning power of ‘omo’, ‘Ariel’ and ‘detol’. Danger it seems is all around.

I have been trying to find solutions for this lake since I first saw its magnificent glory ten years ago. I have watched environmental empowerment workshops, hotels, development projects, education projects, tree planting and much more come and go. I still believe the answer will come but I have to wait for one of the villagers to tell me what it is.

18 April 2007 I Hoped

I hoped to come to Ghana and lose weight - but so far, despite being ill, all I’ve really lost is a breast size. If fat would only go where we wanted it to on our bodies perhaps none of us would mind being fat at all?

I hoped to come to Ghana and learn Twi – so far really I am still the same as I was before. I am proud of my confidence to use the language I only wish I had more language to use in the first place. So far apart from learning many ways to insult in traffic my most useful new phrase has been me nim, which means ‘I don’t know’. Not to be confused with me nim which means ‘I know’. There is a tonal difference - but I am really crap at it so I tend to say it whilst either shaking or nodding my head (and in context because it also sounds very similar to ‘my face’). The astute amongst you may point out that I could just nod or shake my head. But you would under estimate the joy it brings many twi speakers to hear a strange English lady using their language - and the joy it brings me. Here at work I am sometimes referred to as ‘the one that speaks Twi well’. It makes me feel proud. The reality is that I have only managed good morning and then got the response wrong by treating an older man like a child. It seems that so few make the effort that I am appreciated though and so I struggle on. My children move forward quicker although it is harder for Kwajo than Nayah – time will tell, but I hope we are laying a firm foundation for their future.

I am blessed at the foundation we laid their lives on. To move countries and change everything, not once, but twice, is hard for an individual but maybe even harder for a marriage. With Kwame it has only ever been an amazingly wonderful journey - even now when the car is broken and the house submerges when it rains…..

(June PLEASE remember my huge ability to exaggerate – the car will be fixed and big Ga Chief Nana is fixing the house drainage. So when you come there will be others problems but it won’t be these!!! Sorry to be lazy but can you let me have your flight details too…)

15 April 2007

So yet again sitting and enjoying the joys of light off on a Sunday morning in Gbawe. Kwame is outside learning to string and stretch drums and we are considering yam and sauce for lunch.

Over the Easter break we travelled North to Buipe to see Kwame's brothers. Quite some journey taking 3 days up in the car. Buipe was beautiful and it was wonderful to see Kwames nobel family and to enjoy their hospitality. His brothers have been ill but thankfully are much better now. Country Man had a very bad leg which he left and left just hoping it would get better and not having enough spare cash to go to the doctors. Adamu the oldest brother came to Kumasi and took him to hospital - we are not sure if they were just scared off by the consent forms but they strongly believed the doctors wanted to cut off Countrymans now putrid leg. Adamu carried him home to Buipe where they got the money Kwame had sent from home and treated the leg with local medicine. Thankfully he survived the ordeal. A tragically common story of leaving it too late to get medical atention due to a lack of funds. Sadly whilst the story is common Countryman's story of survival is all to uncommon here. This story holds special significance for us as it was Adamu who saved Kwames life by carrying him away on a bicycle in the dead of night all those years ago. Truly a big brother to be proud of.

The Volta river was a huge shock. It was beautiful but we walked accross it at the old port and never at any point did it come above our 4 year old son Kwajo's waist. Good work has gone on here since they have sprayed against Bilhazia however the level of the river is just shocking. Just 10 years ago Lindsay and I caught the big ferry here to go to Akasombo - now the river is almost gone. The farmers are in no doubt that the irrigation dam in Burkina Faso has made more difference than the rain. However, there was no rain and they were waiting to plant and watching it fall always just painfully out of reach on the horizon.

Here in Accra complaints about the light off abound as do the conspircay theories. However every night in our neighbourhood we see no darkness during light on as all our nieghbours leave thier huge outside floodlights on all night everynight. The nature of light off means that if you leave for work early you can return home to light and appliances wasted as they have been left on all day - of course when you left they were off because the electric was off.

It is scary to think of what may happen here if the dam spoils and there is no electric as people are suffering just by it being limited, As many here say 'Ghana is the Volta dam'. If it happens of course people will suffer and tension will rise - but what then of the relations between Ghana and Burkina Faso? Can a country so peaceful and so proud of its peace continue on this road? I don't want Ghanaian's to think I am cursing them but I do wish the governments of Ghana and Burkina Faso could sit down to find a compromise now rather than struggling to sign a peace later. I am sure they are trying I just prey not too little too late...

Blessed love from this still wonderful place.