Happy Holidays, it's Christmas Eve and I am sitting in an internet cafe in Northern Ghana. Who would of thought.

Yesterday the group and I spent our time volunteering for a doctor who runs a free medical clinic called Shekhinah. Every Christmas they provide a free meal for the poor, mostly disabled. We sorted out used clothing and handed it out to about 3000 Ghanaians. We were told the clothing mostly came from The Netherlands. It was disturbing to see some clothes that were in horrific condition even stained, I was embarrassed to give it, even to those who really needed it.

We began by sorting through a mound of clothes, trying to pair things and make outfits and classify pieces by gender and sizes. The gates were opened sporadically and only a specific number of people were let in at a time. They began by only letting the disabled in. Some had leprosy, some without a limb or some blind or deaf. we handed out two pieces of clothing to each, we tried to give them a bottom and a top but we quickly ran out of pants and skirts.A crowd began to form at the gate, some just spectators from the neighbor others were also poor but consider healthy by the standards of the running the event. There were men watching the crowd and were to keep them under control but I believe that they helped contribute to this small almost riot. They used sticks and rope to hit people if they got to close or what they considered rowdy. Trucks would arrive and bring more people from the inner city to eat and the men would yell at the crowd and hit them. All I could do was stand and watch as I handed out clothing to the "more needy?". A few times they handed out small amounts of pure water or candy to the crowd. Picture ten pieces of small candy being given to 250 hungry people. A tease is what I would call it.

At the end of the event, after all the disabled and their families had eaten they let those who spent the entire day hovering the gate in. They received all the left over food and the scraps of clothing. Hours earlier all those who entered were each given a bottle of pop, now these people were passing one bottle down the line taking quick swigs of it. I was handing out the left over socks to this line of leftover people trying to pair them with at least a similar size when a Ghanaian volunteered came to me and said just give them anything it doesn't matter, I quickly yelled back to him, I'm not just going to give them one sock. This exchange happened multiply times in the last minutes of the events. But soon we ran out of clothing, even the scraps of material were gone, and the line of people continued. We were given shirts from the phone company that had sponsored the event. I quickly took mine off and gave it to a girl aged about 12 at the end of the line, then I was quickly swarmed by men who wanted one. Finally, the dinner ended, I know that some still went home hungry.

I think that this Christmas dinner does good. It DOES feed the poor. But I continue to ask myself 'why can't we help them all'. Why do those who arn't hungry get to pick and chose who is needy enough to get feed. These are questions that I have no answers to.


I really did feel good about myself when I gave a blanket to an old woman, or a baby shirt to a woman with a young child on her back. But every time I turned to the gate and saw a bigger and bigger crowd forming I felt sick to my stomach. There were instances when I really felt tears coming to my eyes, it just wasn't fair.

Tomorrow is Christmas. Today we are at the market buying a "feast" that we will make tomorrow, fried rice for lunch and pasta for dinner. Tonight we will also share a Christmas meal with some other foreigners we have met, A Canadian girl about my age, a Swiss woman and an American Family. I will also buy small gifts for Aryn, Marc and Amanda as they will for me that we will put in the stockings we made under our paper Christmas tree. We will do this as people around Ghana wake up to no new gifts. We will do this as people around Ghana eat Banku for the 15th consecutive day. We will have a special day, as people around Ghana live like it's any other day. One Worlds goals include to live in solidarity. We've lived with Ghanaians, traveled beside Ghanaians and bought food from the same places as Ghanaians, but are we really living in solidarity? This is a struggle I will continue to examine, hopefully I will find an answer that I can be proud of.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
Peace and Love from Tamale Ghana

Travel time has begun, we left Ada on Monday and arrived in Cape Coast late that night. We just stayed there for two nights. We went to the Cape Coast castle where they held, catagorized and sold slaves before they were shipped to Europe and the Americas. We looked through the musuem where they gave a basic history of the forced African migration to the Americans and Black history to current times. We also recieved a tour of the castle where they showed us the holding block, the cell where the people who fought with the guards were left to die as well as the door of no return that led to the ships and the horrific future for the African Slaves. We accidently left the Coast early and arrived in Tamale yesterday after a horrific day of travel. We are in Tamale for Christmas and we will be spending our time volunteering at a free medical clinic that serves a meal on Christmas to those who cannot afford it. We couldn't find an avaiblable place to stay. so we went straight to Shekhinah medical clinic to see if we could spend the night there. Thankfully we were found a room. There was two single beds so we pushed the beds together and shared a moment as the group looking up at the fan and quickly thinking back to the day and falling asleep to the sounds of Ghana. Today we went to Aryns volunteer placement, Anfani Childrens home to check in. It was a beautiful place and the smiles on the children who thankfully were not afriad of us and just wanted us to hold them was great. We will hopfully find a place to stay and spend our time volunteering. Next we will go to Mole National Park and hopefully see some wild life! I will hopefully get on the internet when we are at our retreat in Kumasi.

Peace & Love

"I try"

So much as happened in the last little while that I don't know if it's possible to write about it all. I think it all began with our tro tro ride home from Nkawkaw, we were fast approaching our stop of Kasseh Ada and I said okay, everyone make a goal. I quickly thought of one. A few weeks earlier I had traveled to a market with my Mother, we had to take a boat there and they spoke Awe . It was a horrific experience as I was followed and harassed by a man who I believe was crazy for lack of a better word. I spent most of the day in hiding and my mom would just bring me food. It wasn't just this man that made the experience hard, I was in a new area where I didn't know anyone and everyone just treated my like a tourist and yelled yevu (white man in Awe). So my goal was to go back to this market with my head up and actually help my mother this time. After I said this goal I quickly regretted it, I knew it would be hard to go. I wasn't even sure my mom would want me to go because I saw myself as a hassle last time. So I put these thoughts and this goal aside for now. A few days later I was in a taxi with my papa waiting to go home from the local market when my mother quickly arrived, I asked her if I could go to the local market with her next time, i like it there, i know most people and feel safe. She misunderstood and thought I meant the Awe market I tried to explain but there was no use I was going to that market on Wednesday, the next day.

That night I helped my mother fill bags of Cassava dough. I asked her if tomorrow I could help carry the dough on my head, she looked at me like I was insane and said, dabi (no). I pleaded I just want to try, and she said okay. So the next morning She woke me up at 4:30 or so I got ready fast and we walked to wear the tro tro would pick up us and our dough. They prepared me for carrying the dough, put a plastic bag and head wrap on my head. Now, I must explain what a bag of cassava dough is like. Its huge, Aryn and I came to a consensus that it weighs more then 150 lbs. It takes four women to lift it, one to carry it on her head. The other women there could not believe I was going to carry it, I quickly said, "i try". And I did just that, i tried. For my own safety though, I did not carry it. I cannot explain what it felt like to have that weight on my head, i think I could of broken my neck, seriously. So i just helped lift it onto other women's heads and tried not to get into the weight. So we drove to the boat launching area and got into a big canoe like banana boat...filled with cassava dough, I'm surprised it didn't sink. It took about 45 minutes to get to the market and as we arrived all i could see was piles upon piles of fire wood waiting to be sold. We went to my mothers stall and waiting for the dough to follow.

I spent the day either filling bags of dough or helping a women who sells corn. Basically we lay the cord in a strainer and pick out all the bad pieces. She tried to pay me for my work that day, but I refused and told her she did pay me, she taught me. My mother and her cousin also made me get my hair washed and put in curlers. it was just neat to get my hair done in a market. We left the market at about 4:30 and started the journey back, while we were on the water it became dark and lights began to go on in places with electricity. It was neat to see the contrast between those villages without electricity and the city of Big Ada that just reminded me of Ottawa at night. We took the tro tro home and arrived at about7:00. It was a very fulfilling day and I learned a lot. I hope to go again next Wednesday.

I have done so much more that I am excited about that I will right about when I have more time. We leave our villages in just over a week and then began our travel time when I hope to learn more about the history of Ghana and see the beauty.