A First Taste...

I’ll be honest with all of you – this first blog entry has been procrastinated and delayed several times. Overloaded with lots of “new”, my thoughts have been all over the board and nowhere near straightforward enough to add up to an insightful blog entry. But I know some people (i.e., my parents) are curious to hear about what’s been happening since I left Orleans three weeks ago. Without any clear objective or message, I’ve jotted down a few experiences linked to different foods since, being a Winchiu, food is life. I apologize in advance for the inconsistency in tense, feeling, writing style, and thought pattern. Hopefully this little snack will tide you over until I can come up with something a little meatier.

Gelato in Milan

Between Toronto and Accra, we had a long lay-over in Italy so a trip into Milan was in order. The city is seeped in history and the architecture is really beautiful. With 16 JFs travelling together, we broke up into little groups to explore the town - I spent the day with Jad, Sean, Dan, and Shawn. We stumbled upon a little pizzeria with a friendly owner and were quite excited to try some genuine (jen-you-win, Luke :) Italian pizza – but, alas, we stumbled too soon. Fairly early in the morning, we were told that restaurants wouldn’t be open for several hours. Luckily, we found a little gelato store that was open and had our fill of sweet, sweet frozen dairy product. Though I didn’t get any gelato shots, the tourist-with-camera-in-hand mode was in full swing in Milan: http://picasaweb.google.com/ewinchiu/20070507Milan.

Fried Egg Sandwiches

We stop in a town near Kintampo Falls and Sean and I venture off to get some food. Reaching into my pocket for money to pay for the food, a giant gust of wind pulls me out of my seat. I hear Kristy’s voice ring out: “Run! Get back to the bus!” As we dash for the bus, fried egg sandwiches in hand, the heavens open up and give us sweet relief from the sticky heat. Soaked, we climb back into our seats and the bus is off again. It rolls along and the wind rushes in through the open window, cooling my body to pure comfort – nature’s air conditioning at its best! Sitting between Gwen and an ex-military man turned farmer, I look out the window and see a familiar face. Looking much more relaxed than his usual

upright action-ready stance, trusty Orion stares back at me reassuringly – the only constellation I can ever identify with certainty. Such was the highlight of a 14-hour bus ride from Accra to Tamale.

We arrived in Accra, the capital of Ghana, on Monday night (the 7^th) and the group split into two – those working/training in the south and the others (the majority) in the north. We traveled to Tamale, the capital of the Northern Region, on Tuesday and spent the rest of the week doing in-country training and getting to know the ins-and-outs of getting about.

Wotche (sp?)

Sitting at a stall eating wotche (rice with sauce) for breakfast in Tamale, I got my first marriage proposal (of what I’ve been told will be many). Dining with fellow JFs Gillian, Laura, and Sean, we were a big group of salamingas (foreigners) being watched with curiosity by the ladies and men around the stall. Even though Tamale is a big NGO town with lots of salamingas, we still attract lots of attention when walking down the street. It’s a bit strange having people stare at you while you eat, but the smile that breaks out when you stare back and greet them in Dagbani is priceless.

But back to the marriage proposal, somethin

g like “China! I want to marry you!” came from a gentleman sitting beside Sean.

“Ah! Why do you want to marry me? I cannot cook. I cannot clean. If you want to marry me, you must cook and clean for me too!” I reply, eliciting laughter from all the ladies and the other JFs.

“That is not in my traditional role. I want to marry you so you can take me to China!”

Sean starts negotiating the number of cows the man will have to pay for my bride price. To my parents’ relief, no agreement is made.

Later on, Sean says he didn’t have the heart to tell the man that I am, in fact, Canadian, born in South Africa, and have never been to China. Telling people I’m from Canada, I sometimes get a look of confusion – “No China? Japan?”. Telling people I was born in South Africa, a look of excitement comes out – “Ah! So you are African too!”

Jollof Rice and Fanta

For three of the six nights we spent in Tamale, we were invited to dinner at Amshaw’s house. Amshaw is a good friend of Kristy, a long-term EWB volunteer and the coach for the NORPREP and CWSA junior fellows. The first night there was just Kristy and the four NORPREP JFs (Sean, Dan, Gillian, and I). Enjoying a delicious dinner of jollof rice sitting under the stars watching Wynham (Amshaw’s 2-year-old son, pictured above) stuff himself silly with Fanta was definitely my favourite meal in Tamale. The amazing food is one reason the evening was so great but, more than that, it was the company and relaxed conversation that made it really fantastic. The other two nights, Amshaw invited all the JFs (at least, the ones still in Tamale) and we had T.Z. and boiled yams. On the third night, my camera got passed around the room, resulting in http://picasaweb.google.com/ewinchiu/20070512DinnerAtAmshawS.

T.Z.

Though I don’t have a story to go with T.Z., it’s a good way to link where I am now with some sort of food. T.Z. is the main dish eaten in Salaga, capital of the East Gonja District where I will be for the rest of the summer. Kristy and I hopped in a tro-tro (what can best be described as a very old minibus crammed with as many people as possible) and traveled down here on Monday, a bumpy 2.5 hour journey. We spent the day meeting my new co-workers and Kristy’s friends and crashed at her friend Shamuna’s place. I am now staying at the District Chief Executive’s old house – a massive 5-bedroom bungalow with air conditioning a little ways out of town, definitely not the ideal situation for integrating into the community. We’ve got half the town looking for a room in a family compound where I can live for the rest of the summer. I’m really itching to stop living out of the backpack and start enjoying a steady T.Z. dinner routine with a host family. I took a few pictures of my 5:30 a.m. alarm clock and my shiny, red bicycle: http://picasaweb.google.com/ewinchiu/20070519DCEResidence.

Whenever someone is enjoying a meal here, they will tell you that “you are invited” to share with them. I hope this has been a tasty read and you are invited to share all the meals (and experiences) to come…