Today’s excitement didn’t really happen at work, because for whatever reason no reporters showed up this morning before going on their assignments, so I was at the office again all day doin nothing much. The exciting part, believe it or not, was my commute home.
Firstly, I picked up the wrong tro-tro. The guys who yell out destinations aren’t always comprehensible for me, so I generally ask confirmation for my destination. Well today I thought I heard Nungua, and asked if that was right, and the guy nodded and waved at the van. So obviously I got in. Then he started yelling out the window “Eta” or something and we turned the wrong direction, so I was like ummm… But everyone was perfectly sympathetic and I got dropped off near a big bus depot in the neighborhood called 37 (don’t ask me why it’s called that, I dunno). The conductor guy tried to get me to pay for the short trip, and I wasn’t really planning on arguing over 40 cents, but everyone around me yelled at him and he gave it back.
So I found the bus depot ok; it’s a really huge area full of tro-tros waiting their turn to take folks to the various places. It took me a couple times asking directions, but I finally found the right section for where I was going. So we filled up and started off on our journey.
An intercalary section: The nation is generally upset right now with the NDC government, as last Friday it announced a fuel hike, to take effect Monday. I think it’s still subsidized, just not at the same degree. People are particularly upset because the party campaigned and possibly even won on a platform of keeping fuel prices down. Now that they’re in power, they’re saying “oops, didn’t realize how much money that would take.” While I understand price fluctuation, shame on you NDC for campaigning on a platform you know is untenable.
So anywho, we take off from the bus stop and people start complaining angrily in languages I don’t understand. Then we complete a circle and come back into the bus stop, where just about everyone descends. A kind woman next to me explained that they were all upset at having to pay 55 pesewas instead of the 45 that was standard before the price hike Monday. That woman and I were the only two passengers to stay on the bus; I’m not too sure what happened to the other guys or if they found a van to take them for less. To be honest, I only paid 50. That was my original contribution (and I think what they were sposed to be charging, according to the standard rate increase), and when I offered the guy a 5 pesewa coin he turned it down. Whatever.
This trend of charging more than what’s sanctioned in the increase seems to be pretty common. I’m only sposed to pay 5p more, and on both my routes now it looks like I’m up 10p. It sucks to be people for whom that is an important amount of money.
My other news is that I think I’m going to change horses midstream. While I’m getting some good insights at the Guide, I think it would be helpful to get a feel for the state-run paper as well, so in 2 weeks or so I’m going to be working at the Graphic. Hopefully it doesn’t suck. It should be a pretty good experience though, and I’ll hopefully get an idea for how much censorship there is. It will also be good for the paper I need to write – I’ll be able to draw on survey data from the state paper and its partisan top rival.
Until then I’ve got assignments (yay!). Tomorrow I’m covering a conference on disabilities that I came across all by myself, and then doing something with the business paper’s analyst. Then starting Thursday I’m going to bother Awudu while he attends parliamentary sessions and things, so that should be fun.
Health update: I’m still coughing enough to annoy everyone around me, but I feel mostly better otherwise.
Update from Day 15:
I’m writing this from the Kofi Annan Center of Excellence in ICT, where in fact I do not have a wireless internet connection. I think perhaps this is a bad sign for the center. The conference on culture and disability that I am attending nominally began 8 minutes ago, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only person here who is not setting up in some way. My commute was interesting again. I got a taxi instead of a tro-tro because there were people to share it with and no buses were coming my way. I had a nice conversation with a guy named Mark, who is an accountant here. It was a long trip, and towards the end he asked me if I was a Christian. I guess this is a pretty common thing to ask strangers. Mostly people have let me go when I told them that I was and tried to drop the subject, but Mark pressed me so I decided to tell him the truth. It was sort of entertaining, but definitely not something I should do very often. I got him rather riled up. He didn’t accept my explanation that I thought people should just be good and that would get them into heaven. Apparently I am now going to feature in his prayers, so that’s nice. My salvation is important.
People are slowly starting to filter in and I need to save my battery for the conference, so you get more on the day tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Ghana Day 13
Short, boring update because my day was short and boring. While I’m feeling better, I’m definitely not at the top of my game and I wasn’t up to chasing after people to find a good assignment. Nobody jumped to give me anything, so I left early to beat the Monday traffic (which is pretty bad). The only productive thing I did today was to pass on some work to our parliamentary correspondent. The poor guy is having a malaria bout, but I think the prospect of around a month’s pay for less than a day’s work made him feel better. (Barak had given me a database of parliamentary candidates to be checked for ethnicity for around $100). I also finalized a survey on media freedom and sent it to all of the reporters whose email addresses I was able to get.
Besides that I mostly sat and cursed the internet connection, which has been extremely slow since last Wednesday, read my book, bought some yummy and melty Ghanaian chocolate, and am going to bed by 8:30. Sweet life.
Besides that I mostly sat and cursed the internet connection, which has been extremely slow since last Wednesday, read my book, bought some yummy and melty Ghanaian chocolate, and am going to bed by 8:30. Sweet life.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Ghana Day 12
On Thursday I went to the June 4 rally and got to see former president Jerry John (JJ) Rawlings speak. I was really nervous I would miss him, because he was scheduled at 2pm and we left the office at 2:03 for whatever reason. Turns out I would have been better pleased had we left at 3. We got there only to wait through a dozen lesser speakers (some of them pretty important, but mostly lower level officials). While this might have been interesting, all of them were speaking in Twi, so I was pretty darn bored. I also reinforced my understanding of how much I cannot be a real journalist here, since there will probably never be an event where I won’t need a translator.
Thankfully, JJ spoke in English. I don’t really know why, but I was grateful. Surprisingly, he took the current administration to task. He said that his protégé Mr. Atta Mills was not working fast enough to prosecute people who were corrupt in the last administration. He also said lots of stuff about probity and accountability and the meaning of June 4 – lots of the same stock rhetoric. But this apparent break with the NDC, or at least threat to it, is certainly interesting and might lead to a new party formation (either a new party or a new leadership structure within the NDC).
I’ve also been getting my ear talked off about NDC versus NPP policies. It seems like everyone has an opinion, and impressively a lot of people have opinions based on ideological grounds. Essentially the NPP supporters like that the NPP seemed to have provided lots of services and more democratic governance, and they believe that the NDC were despots who did not do enough to help the people. NDC supporters on the other hand think the NPP was full of crooks and that their programs weren’t widespread enough, did not take macroeconomic stability into account (the NPP increased the debt burden significantly), and think the NDC is accountable and doesn’t tolerate corruption. From what I can tell, almost all of these arguments are legitimate, so it’s a problem of choosing between two evils. Fortunately for Ghana, the sides both have strong, good aspects, so over the course of the next few decades, if things don’t radically change, I predict that the parties will have to refine their policies to reduce the easily identifiable bad parts and work on their good parts. Good parties are certainly not built overnight, and these two have only had 5 elections so far to pan things out. I think the trajectory looks good, but time will tell.
I got home late again Thursday and met more thoroughly the two American girls who moved in on Wednesday. They’re both very nice, although not sisters as Prince told me. Elizabeth is 23, and she is dating a guy whose sister (Maddie) came with her on the trip. Elizabeth is from Tennessee, while Maddie is from Cincinnati (although I think she said she has since moved somewhere else). Elizabeth’s father John is also on the trip, who is a very talkative and pretty stereotypical southerner – on our trip this weekend he wore a cowboy hat. The girls are working at the orphanage that I plan on spending my Saturdays at, and they’ve visited once. Apparently the living conditions are pretty atrocious, because it’s run by one individual who has no source of funds, and it sounds like John is planning on donating new beds. I guess I will see for myself pretty soon.
On Friday we took our weekend trip to Cape Coast. Fortunately we missed the bus, so Prince hired a van, and that van had air-conditioning, so we traveled in style. After we got there we went to the Cape Coast castle, which was built by the British and used as a slave port. We got a tour through the male and female dungeons, the punishment room, and the door of no return. A couple tunnels had been blocked off by the Brits after the end of the slave trade, and I was somewhat surprised they hadn’t been opened back up for the museum. One was a tunnel directly to the water that I think would have been interesting. The dungeons were pretty awful. They were very deep in the ground and had ventilation only at the top. Apparently when they were dug up in the 1900s or whenever there was about a foot worth of straw, sand and excrement caked onto the floor. The captured slaves were supposed to defecate and urinate in a groove in the floor that started at one end and ran through a couple rooms downhill to the ocean, but obviously this was not always unblocked. Apparently women who got pregnant (by white men) were spared the voyage though, and they were given “cushy” jobs as servants in the castle. People who got sick were thrown into the ocean so they wouldn’t infect the rest of them, which I am sure must have been a big percentage. I think one of the worst aspects of the whole place was that the first Anglican church built in Ghana was in this castle right next to a spy-hole to the male dungeon, so on their way to church (and probably during church) the Englishmen there could hear the captured Africans yelling and dying. It was all very grim.
One weird thing was that on the tour I started talking to an American girl who turned out to be a student in SFS at Georgetown (going into senior year). Very small world.
Saturday morning we went to Kakum National Park, which is a rainforest with a canopy walk. There are 7 bridges suspended between extremely tall trees that visitors walk along. They’re very safe, and you’re almost surrounded by net (unless you’re very tall, which I am not – they came up to my armpits). It was still a bit scary, and I mostly looked at where I was stepping rather than down into the trees and the ground several hundred feet below me, but when I did look it was a very nice view of the forest. I also got to smell a lavender tree. That was pretty cool.
After that I touched a live alligator. I was just not out to please my mother this weekend. : ) He was tame and several people went before me. Apparently alligators can’t turn fast, so if for some reason he had decided the people touching his back were more interesting than the lady in front of him feeding him chicken gizzards, a person would be able to get out of the way. In theory. In any case, it was an extremely touristy thing to do.
In terms of health, this was not my weekend. My stomach was still getting upset with me all the time on Thursday, so I started that day a diet of bland and packaged food (bananas, crackers, etc). I tried to keep this up over the weekend, and while I wasn’t totally successful, I think my stomach has forgiven me and settled down (I’ve asked Grandma not to make my food spicy anymore – we will see if that helps). However, according to Dr. Matt (who isn’t really a doctor but has helped out a lot in hospitals), the stomach thing made me immuno-suppressed, which is why starting Friday morning I’ve had the cold that I recurrently get. (Dr. Matt thinks I have a virus.) It was pretty bad and I was probably not amazing company most of the weekend, particularly today (Sunday). I’m just about over the worst of it now though.
To add to these things, however, our trip to the beach on Saturday afternoon led to yet another Lindsay ocean mishap. This time I did not lose my glasses or skin my knee, but I did take a chunk of skin out of my toe. I’m not sure what did it, since I was in the water, but the beach was not the cleanest one. There were plastic bags and things floating in the water and trash washed up on the beach. It’s possible I cut it on something icky, although more likely it was just a piece of shell. That’s what I’m going to stick with anyway. Lucky for me I had my first aid kit along with me, as well as a handy Dr. Matt, and it got cleaned, treated with iodine (and later hydrogen peroxide), and bandaged with gauze. Although it looked pretty nasty at the time, I think most of what came off was callus, and I just nicked a little vein in my toe. It’s a pretty small cut. So that was exciting, and has reinforced my utter dislike of the ocean.
Last night we watched on network tv what we were pretty sure were bootleg copies of the two Narnia movies, which is kind of cool. They both had problems with track speed, and the second had Chinese subtitles. It’s funny what people can get away with.
That’s about all I have to tell. Today we got home at noonish, and after greeting Grandma (who is having a recurrence of malaria, poor woman) I planted myself in bed where I am being a stick in the mud all afternoon. I really wish I had movies to watch, but I’ve got plenty of reading material, so until I talk to you next time I’ll probably be doing nothing but drinking fluids, reading, sleeping, and trying as hard as I can to clear my sinuses.
(Update: feeling better on Monday, but definitely gookier)
Thankfully, JJ spoke in English. I don’t really know why, but I was grateful. Surprisingly, he took the current administration to task. He said that his protégé Mr. Atta Mills was not working fast enough to prosecute people who were corrupt in the last administration. He also said lots of stuff about probity and accountability and the meaning of June 4 – lots of the same stock rhetoric. But this apparent break with the NDC, or at least threat to it, is certainly interesting and might lead to a new party formation (either a new party or a new leadership structure within the NDC).
I’ve also been getting my ear talked off about NDC versus NPP policies. It seems like everyone has an opinion, and impressively a lot of people have opinions based on ideological grounds. Essentially the NPP supporters like that the NPP seemed to have provided lots of services and more democratic governance, and they believe that the NDC were despots who did not do enough to help the people. NDC supporters on the other hand think the NPP was full of crooks and that their programs weren’t widespread enough, did not take macroeconomic stability into account (the NPP increased the debt burden significantly), and think the NDC is accountable and doesn’t tolerate corruption. From what I can tell, almost all of these arguments are legitimate, so it’s a problem of choosing between two evils. Fortunately for Ghana, the sides both have strong, good aspects, so over the course of the next few decades, if things don’t radically change, I predict that the parties will have to refine their policies to reduce the easily identifiable bad parts and work on their good parts. Good parties are certainly not built overnight, and these two have only had 5 elections so far to pan things out. I think the trajectory looks good, but time will tell.
I got home late again Thursday and met more thoroughly the two American girls who moved in on Wednesday. They’re both very nice, although not sisters as Prince told me. Elizabeth is 23, and she is dating a guy whose sister (Maddie) came with her on the trip. Elizabeth is from Tennessee, while Maddie is from Cincinnati (although I think she said she has since moved somewhere else). Elizabeth’s father John is also on the trip, who is a very talkative and pretty stereotypical southerner – on our trip this weekend he wore a cowboy hat. The girls are working at the orphanage that I plan on spending my Saturdays at, and they’ve visited once. Apparently the living conditions are pretty atrocious, because it’s run by one individual who has no source of funds, and it sounds like John is planning on donating new beds. I guess I will see for myself pretty soon.
On Friday we took our weekend trip to Cape Coast. Fortunately we missed the bus, so Prince hired a van, and that van had air-conditioning, so we traveled in style. After we got there we went to the Cape Coast castle, which was built by the British and used as a slave port. We got a tour through the male and female dungeons, the punishment room, and the door of no return. A couple tunnels had been blocked off by the Brits after the end of the slave trade, and I was somewhat surprised they hadn’t been opened back up for the museum. One was a tunnel directly to the water that I think would have been interesting. The dungeons were pretty awful. They were very deep in the ground and had ventilation only at the top. Apparently when they were dug up in the 1900s or whenever there was about a foot worth of straw, sand and excrement caked onto the floor. The captured slaves were supposed to defecate and urinate in a groove in the floor that started at one end and ran through a couple rooms downhill to the ocean, but obviously this was not always unblocked. Apparently women who got pregnant (by white men) were spared the voyage though, and they were given “cushy” jobs as servants in the castle. People who got sick were thrown into the ocean so they wouldn’t infect the rest of them, which I am sure must have been a big percentage. I think one of the worst aspects of the whole place was that the first Anglican church built in Ghana was in this castle right next to a spy-hole to the male dungeon, so on their way to church (and probably during church) the Englishmen there could hear the captured Africans yelling and dying. It was all very grim.
One weird thing was that on the tour I started talking to an American girl who turned out to be a student in SFS at Georgetown (going into senior year). Very small world.
Saturday morning we went to Kakum National Park, which is a rainforest with a canopy walk. There are 7 bridges suspended between extremely tall trees that visitors walk along. They’re very safe, and you’re almost surrounded by net (unless you’re very tall, which I am not – they came up to my armpits). It was still a bit scary, and I mostly looked at where I was stepping rather than down into the trees and the ground several hundred feet below me, but when I did look it was a very nice view of the forest. I also got to smell a lavender tree. That was pretty cool.
After that I touched a live alligator. I was just not out to please my mother this weekend. : ) He was tame and several people went before me. Apparently alligators can’t turn fast, so if for some reason he had decided the people touching his back were more interesting than the lady in front of him feeding him chicken gizzards, a person would be able to get out of the way. In theory. In any case, it was an extremely touristy thing to do.
In terms of health, this was not my weekend. My stomach was still getting upset with me all the time on Thursday, so I started that day a diet of bland and packaged food (bananas, crackers, etc). I tried to keep this up over the weekend, and while I wasn’t totally successful, I think my stomach has forgiven me and settled down (I’ve asked Grandma not to make my food spicy anymore – we will see if that helps). However, according to Dr. Matt (who isn’t really a doctor but has helped out a lot in hospitals), the stomach thing made me immuno-suppressed, which is why starting Friday morning I’ve had the cold that I recurrently get. (Dr. Matt thinks I have a virus.) It was pretty bad and I was probably not amazing company most of the weekend, particularly today (Sunday). I’m just about over the worst of it now though.
To add to these things, however, our trip to the beach on Saturday afternoon led to yet another Lindsay ocean mishap. This time I did not lose my glasses or skin my knee, but I did take a chunk of skin out of my toe. I’m not sure what did it, since I was in the water, but the beach was not the cleanest one. There were plastic bags and things floating in the water and trash washed up on the beach. It’s possible I cut it on something icky, although more likely it was just a piece of shell. That’s what I’m going to stick with anyway. Lucky for me I had my first aid kit along with me, as well as a handy Dr. Matt, and it got cleaned, treated with iodine (and later hydrogen peroxide), and bandaged with gauze. Although it looked pretty nasty at the time, I think most of what came off was callus, and I just nicked a little vein in my toe. It’s a pretty small cut. So that was exciting, and has reinforced my utter dislike of the ocean.
Last night we watched on network tv what we were pretty sure were bootleg copies of the two Narnia movies, which is kind of cool. They both had problems with track speed, and the second had Chinese subtitles. It’s funny what people can get away with.
That’s about all I have to tell. Today we got home at noonish, and after greeting Grandma (who is having a recurrence of malaria, poor woman) I planted myself in bed where I am being a stick in the mud all afternoon. I really wish I had movies to watch, but I’ve got plenty of reading material, so until I talk to you next time I’ll probably be doing nothing but drinking fluids, reading, sleeping, and trying as hard as I can to clear my sinuses.
(Update: feeling better on Monday, but definitely gookier)
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Ghana Day 8
For a day that I thought was going to be my most boring yet, today turned out to be pretty darn exciting.
Until around 2 or 3pm I did nearly nothing besides surfing the web and downloading episodes of Dollhouse to watch in all the spare time I surprisingly don’t really have at home. Our paper today ran some interesting stories though, that provide a good backdrop to my day’s events. Firstly, one of the former NPP ministers of something or other was detained without charge for 10+ hours by Ghana’s FBI equivalent for a while (probably in a corruption investigation), which drew a pretty big crowd of protestors who were upset at what they saw as the harassment of the opposition. My paper took the same view as the crowd (although that’s not terribly surprising, as I shall soon explain). On another slightly undemocratic and much more interesting note, two of our reporters were detained for 6 hours for sitting outside a minister’s residence and eating peanuts while they waited for him to come home. Apparently they were sitting in an unmarked security zone. Rather than being shooed off, they were brought into custody without a phone call or anything of the sort. A higher up eventually (after a couple hours) said they were free to go, but the security guy in charge of them more immediately decided he was on a power trip or something and didn’t release them. They got out eventually when the afternoon shift replaced the morning guys.
Finally, there has been some controversy about a Ghanaian national holiday that was banned in 2001, the June 4 celebration. On June 4, 1979 (30 years ago today), Flight Lt. Jerry John Rawlings took over power in a military coup. He was the one who eventually (in 1992) held the first free elections, which he subsequently won (twice). As I’ve explained I previous posts, he’s a pretty controversial guy. In any case, when the opposition came into power in 2001 they decided (probably rightly) that the anniversary of a military coup, regardless of how much it was designed to bring probity to government, was inappropriate for a democracy to celebrate. It was thought until a few days ago that this holiday would not be revived, but we found out for sure and certain today that in fact the 30th anniversary will be marked with much gusto.
So it turns out democracy is not perfect in Africa’s only country that has passed the two-turnover test. Ah well.
So besides listening to as much of the gossip about these and a few other stories, collecting business cards, and composing a survey of media freedom to try to con people into answering, I thought my day was going to be unproductive. This was particularly true because apparently my news editor was off looking at bodies in the morgue (or something) all morning and only appeared intermittently in the afternoon. Just when I thought I would give up and go home early, however, he showed up again and I had the opportunity to rush him and ask if I could help cover the June 4 stuff. He said ok, in fact that’s what he was trying to get my colleague Awudu to go cover – I had not realized it, but this evening there was an NDC rally. So with much complaining and grumbling from Awudu, we set off.
The grumbling, I soon found out, was because Awudu and the photographer who went with us were the two unfortunate detainees. Sad for them, but I have to say I thought it was pretty cool that I got to cover a story with the guys who made the news that day. He was annoyed that he was being sent to yet another event where he believed he was going to be harassed (whether or not that belief was merited). I never found out if he would have been though, since he stowed his journal in my bag to avoid detection as a journalist and used the white girl as cover – nobody questions the white folks.
So on the way over I got to grill Awudu about what he thought of things. Firstly, the impression I got from my first day’s reading of the paper was entirely well founded – the paper has a marked pro-NPP bias and is certainly anti-NDC (party in power). This explains why national government people aren’t happy to see us. I asked if this meant that pro-NDC stories never appeared in the paper, and he said no, they cover good things NDC does – they just never make the front page. His reasoning for why the paper liked NPP is that the NPP allowed much more media freedom than the NDC had done during its stay in power. Later, however, the photographer (who is pro-NDC) told me that he thought the NPP allowed media freedom only to keep its real actions out of sight and use the media for untruthful propaganda. Awudu told me that the media house they’re in is actually about 60% pro-NDC, but the newsroom itself is mostly NPP. Awudu claims to be mostly NPP, but thinks there are lots of good people in the NDC. So it seems like a mixed bag, but with a definite bias in the Guide.
Awudu said that in general, the media is free and can print whatever stories it likes. Even though the NDC (who had maintained criminal libel laws) was now back in power, it couldn’t really touch anyone in the media without having everyone on its back, as evidenced by his own detention.
The rally itself was interesting but not amazing. As with most rallies, it was full of propaganda and singing and playing up the crowd, which usually obliged the speakers by shouting and cheering wildly and once storming the stage. The people who spoke were notable, although since I’m pretty new to Ghanaian politics I don’t think I really appreciated it as much as I could. The attorney general (a woman) spoke, as did the majority leader in parliament, some big shot business guy, the youth organization’s leader, and Rawlings’s wife. In typical Ghana/ Africa fashion, it was supposed to start at 4, kicked off at 4:40, was supposed to last an hour with each of 8 speakers taking 5 minutes each, and continuing until around 8pm. At least it was a nice, air-conditioned venue.
Lots of ambassadors showed up, but Japan and Spain were the only mostly democratic countries in attendance that I caught– it was Iran, Libya, Ethiopia, DRC, Cote d’Ivoire, Togo, Equatorial Guinea, Algeria, and a couple others. Seemed like most of the democracies were distancing themselves from the event.
One positive thing I learned was that (at least for that particular event), state funding was not used (although the venue was state-owned, and I’m doubtful they paid for the facility). It was done with private contributions by party members.
We got back too late for the story to be published tomorrow, but it’s likely it will show up on Friday. I’m theoretically helping to write it, although Awudu apparently likes to be a pundit, pick out the few blunders in every speech, and highlight those for the readership – so I’m not positive I’ll want my name on it. We shall see though.
One other exciting thing happened, which was my taking the tro tro home late at night. It was fine, except for a guy who really desperately wanted to be gangsta sat down next to me and gave me look-over. I’m pretty sure he’d been drinking. Anyway, he tried to pay my fare for me (without telling me – discussing it in Ga with the tro tro guy and then handing off the cash), so I had to force my fare on him so he wouldn’t feel like I owed him anything. I also told him the wrong stop I was getting off at and fairly loudly called Grandma to tell her I’d be home soon. So with all my bases covered I was fine, and thank god he didn’t get off at the stop with me (since he’d already claimed to be getting off at the stop I said I’d be leaving at).
So tomorrow (today for you readers) is the actual holiday, and I’ll be going to see Mr. JJ Rawlings himself speak in I’m sure a huge crowd of people. Should be another fun day. Then Friday I’m off and we’re visiting Cape Coast and some other things, so this will probably be my last post until next Monday. But be sure to keep an eye on the Guide for more stories : )
Until around 2 or 3pm I did nearly nothing besides surfing the web and downloading episodes of Dollhouse to watch in all the spare time I surprisingly don’t really have at home. Our paper today ran some interesting stories though, that provide a good backdrop to my day’s events. Firstly, one of the former NPP ministers of something or other was detained without charge for 10+ hours by Ghana’s FBI equivalent for a while (probably in a corruption investigation), which drew a pretty big crowd of protestors who were upset at what they saw as the harassment of the opposition. My paper took the same view as the crowd (although that’s not terribly surprising, as I shall soon explain). On another slightly undemocratic and much more interesting note, two of our reporters were detained for 6 hours for sitting outside a minister’s residence and eating peanuts while they waited for him to come home. Apparently they were sitting in an unmarked security zone. Rather than being shooed off, they were brought into custody without a phone call or anything of the sort. A higher up eventually (after a couple hours) said they were free to go, but the security guy in charge of them more immediately decided he was on a power trip or something and didn’t release them. They got out eventually when the afternoon shift replaced the morning guys.
Finally, there has been some controversy about a Ghanaian national holiday that was banned in 2001, the June 4 celebration. On June 4, 1979 (30 years ago today), Flight Lt. Jerry John Rawlings took over power in a military coup. He was the one who eventually (in 1992) held the first free elections, which he subsequently won (twice). As I’ve explained I previous posts, he’s a pretty controversial guy. In any case, when the opposition came into power in 2001 they decided (probably rightly) that the anniversary of a military coup, regardless of how much it was designed to bring probity to government, was inappropriate for a democracy to celebrate. It was thought until a few days ago that this holiday would not be revived, but we found out for sure and certain today that in fact the 30th anniversary will be marked with much gusto.
So it turns out democracy is not perfect in Africa’s only country that has passed the two-turnover test. Ah well.
So besides listening to as much of the gossip about these and a few other stories, collecting business cards, and composing a survey of media freedom to try to con people into answering, I thought my day was going to be unproductive. This was particularly true because apparently my news editor was off looking at bodies in the morgue (or something) all morning and only appeared intermittently in the afternoon. Just when I thought I would give up and go home early, however, he showed up again and I had the opportunity to rush him and ask if I could help cover the June 4 stuff. He said ok, in fact that’s what he was trying to get my colleague Awudu to go cover – I had not realized it, but this evening there was an NDC rally. So with much complaining and grumbling from Awudu, we set off.
The grumbling, I soon found out, was because Awudu and the photographer who went with us were the two unfortunate detainees. Sad for them, but I have to say I thought it was pretty cool that I got to cover a story with the guys who made the news that day. He was annoyed that he was being sent to yet another event where he believed he was going to be harassed (whether or not that belief was merited). I never found out if he would have been though, since he stowed his journal in my bag to avoid detection as a journalist and used the white girl as cover – nobody questions the white folks.
So on the way over I got to grill Awudu about what he thought of things. Firstly, the impression I got from my first day’s reading of the paper was entirely well founded – the paper has a marked pro-NPP bias and is certainly anti-NDC (party in power). This explains why national government people aren’t happy to see us. I asked if this meant that pro-NDC stories never appeared in the paper, and he said no, they cover good things NDC does – they just never make the front page. His reasoning for why the paper liked NPP is that the NPP allowed much more media freedom than the NDC had done during its stay in power. Later, however, the photographer (who is pro-NDC) told me that he thought the NPP allowed media freedom only to keep its real actions out of sight and use the media for untruthful propaganda. Awudu told me that the media house they’re in is actually about 60% pro-NDC, but the newsroom itself is mostly NPP. Awudu claims to be mostly NPP, but thinks there are lots of good people in the NDC. So it seems like a mixed bag, but with a definite bias in the Guide.
Awudu said that in general, the media is free and can print whatever stories it likes. Even though the NDC (who had maintained criminal libel laws) was now back in power, it couldn’t really touch anyone in the media without having everyone on its back, as evidenced by his own detention.
The rally itself was interesting but not amazing. As with most rallies, it was full of propaganda and singing and playing up the crowd, which usually obliged the speakers by shouting and cheering wildly and once storming the stage. The people who spoke were notable, although since I’m pretty new to Ghanaian politics I don’t think I really appreciated it as much as I could. The attorney general (a woman) spoke, as did the majority leader in parliament, some big shot business guy, the youth organization’s leader, and Rawlings’s wife. In typical Ghana/ Africa fashion, it was supposed to start at 4, kicked off at 4:40, was supposed to last an hour with each of 8 speakers taking 5 minutes each, and continuing until around 8pm. At least it was a nice, air-conditioned venue.
Lots of ambassadors showed up, but Japan and Spain were the only mostly democratic countries in attendance that I caught– it was Iran, Libya, Ethiopia, DRC, Cote d’Ivoire, Togo, Equatorial Guinea, Algeria, and a couple others. Seemed like most of the democracies were distancing themselves from the event.
One positive thing I learned was that (at least for that particular event), state funding was not used (although the venue was state-owned, and I’m doubtful they paid for the facility). It was done with private contributions by party members.
We got back too late for the story to be published tomorrow, but it’s likely it will show up on Friday. I’m theoretically helping to write it, although Awudu apparently likes to be a pundit, pick out the few blunders in every speech, and highlight those for the readership – so I’m not positive I’ll want my name on it. We shall see though.
One other exciting thing happened, which was my taking the tro tro home late at night. It was fine, except for a guy who really desperately wanted to be gangsta sat down next to me and gave me look-over. I’m pretty sure he’d been drinking. Anyway, he tried to pay my fare for me (without telling me – discussing it in Ga with the tro tro guy and then handing off the cash), so I had to force my fare on him so he wouldn’t feel like I owed him anything. I also told him the wrong stop I was getting off at and fairly loudly called Grandma to tell her I’d be home soon. So with all my bases covered I was fine, and thank god he didn’t get off at the stop with me (since he’d already claimed to be getting off at the stop I said I’d be leaving at).
So tomorrow (today for you readers) is the actual holiday, and I’ll be going to see Mr. JJ Rawlings himself speak in I’m sure a huge crowd of people. Should be another fun day. Then Friday I’m off and we’re visiting Cape Coast and some other things, so this will probably be my last post until next Monday. But be sure to keep an eye on the Guide for more stories : )
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Ghana Day 7
Today’s adventure was going to the kick-off of the Public Health Week in Accra. It “started at 10,” which today meant what it normally means on African (or I should probably say non-US) time, which was 11:15 or so. I shadowed Stella again, but she didn’t come into the office before going there so I had the opportunity of finding my way by myself. That’s really not at all true of course, since there’s no way anyone could get anyone by herself without knowing the city, but I got there with the support of 6 or 7 people pointing the way rather than one person leading me, which I think is an improvement and pretty much how it’s going to be for the rest of the time.
The event itself was a bit boring, since the three keynote-type speakers said the same thing (down to referring to the same stats and using the same sound bites), and the skit that the health workers put on was in Twi (or possibly Ga), so while I’m sure it was entertaining based on the audience’s reaction, I had no idea what was going on beyond one girl getting lung cancer for smoking. After the program people were encouraged to get screened for some diseases (hypertension, diabetes, malaria, etc) and have their BMI assessed, as well as donate blood. While I briefly considered doing the latter, I decided that among other things, I probably can’t stand to lose the water weight right now since I’m pretty consistently dehydrated as it is. So I’m off the hook as far as my mother is concerned.
I think perhaps the best part of the event was that afterwards they handed out lunch in takeaway bags. This would not be the best part normally – jut a highlight – except that this particular event had highlighted the importance of eating fruits and veg and avoiding fats, and all of the food we were given was fried. (Also all meat except for a little bag of fried dough snack sticks, so I ended up handing mine over to a boy who was trolling for food and definitely needed some fat more than I did, along with the non-alcoholic beer it came with. I took a sip of the beer and yes, it is still really nasty even without the alcohol in it. Sorry everyone.)
Tonight I am swapping the boys that are living in my compound. Matt is in (yes, he’s nerdy, in keeping with all the Matts I know – studying chemical engineering or something), and Stephen will be leaving tomorrow night before I get home from work. Matt will be around for the rest of my time here, as he’s also spending 8 weeks. He’s got a strong travel background (his dad has moved around to places in South America and Asia a lot) and wants to be one of those bleeding heart doctors who does surgery in third world countries. He’s very friendly and chatty, and should be a pretty tolerable guy to live with. Now I just have to cross my fingers that the two sisters showing up tomorrow are equally amicable. This place is sort of starting to feel like a hostel.
The event itself was a bit boring, since the three keynote-type speakers said the same thing (down to referring to the same stats and using the same sound bites), and the skit that the health workers put on was in Twi (or possibly Ga), so while I’m sure it was entertaining based on the audience’s reaction, I had no idea what was going on beyond one girl getting lung cancer for smoking. After the program people were encouraged to get screened for some diseases (hypertension, diabetes, malaria, etc) and have their BMI assessed, as well as donate blood. While I briefly considered doing the latter, I decided that among other things, I probably can’t stand to lose the water weight right now since I’m pretty consistently dehydrated as it is. So I’m off the hook as far as my mother is concerned.
I think perhaps the best part of the event was that afterwards they handed out lunch in takeaway bags. This would not be the best part normally – jut a highlight – except that this particular event had highlighted the importance of eating fruits and veg and avoiding fats, and all of the food we were given was fried. (Also all meat except for a little bag of fried dough snack sticks, so I ended up handing mine over to a boy who was trolling for food and definitely needed some fat more than I did, along with the non-alcoholic beer it came with. I took a sip of the beer and yes, it is still really nasty even without the alcohol in it. Sorry everyone.)
Tonight I am swapping the boys that are living in my compound. Matt is in (yes, he’s nerdy, in keeping with all the Matts I know – studying chemical engineering or something), and Stephen will be leaving tomorrow night before I get home from work. Matt will be around for the rest of my time here, as he’s also spending 8 weeks. He’s got a strong travel background (his dad has moved around to places in South America and Asia a lot) and wants to be one of those bleeding heart doctors who does surgery in third world countries. He’s very friendly and chatty, and should be a pretty tolerable guy to live with. Now I just have to cross my fingers that the two sisters showing up tomorrow are equally amicable. This place is sort of starting to feel like a hostel.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Ghana Day 6
Pre-post note:
Sunday night was awful. The power went out around 9:30 until maybe 11, so the super powered fan that allows me to sleep without bathing in my own sweat was dead in my prime laying in bed hours : (
Real post:
So Monday was a very eventful (and above all sweaty) day for me. I started work at the Daily Guide. Prince showed me how to figure out which tro-tro was going the direction I wanted (it involves hand signs and something close to an auctioneer’s call by the driver’s assistant). Tomorrow I get help again, and Wednesday I might try it on my own. The hardest part is really recognizing where I need to get off before I’ve passed it, particularly on the way home since it’s dark. Traffic is pretty terrible both ways, so apparently I’m going to be going to work around 7am and leaving for home around 7pm so that I can avoid being stuck for two hours in the congestion (normally it should be a 20 minute trip).
The Guide has a lovely office – air conditioned with internet – and the people seem mostly nice. Some of the reporters were very chatty and welcoming, although some seemed were less so because they working or else sort of blasé about the temporary freelance writer in their midst. Apparently I’m not an uncommon occurrence; there’s a Swiss Katherine in the newsroom as well who seems maybe about my age.
So today I read the newspaper to get an idea for the “house style” that I should be trying to emulate, which to be honest might be a bit hard since it’s more biased and sensational (in verb and adjective choice if in nothing else) than I’m used to writing in or reading news in. I’m sure US papers have house styles as well, but not quite in this way I think. I’ve also discovered that for all I’ve been told that the paper is not biased, it is highly critical of the current government’s efforts to attack the former ruling party’s officials and also uses some rather dismissive language about the new party’s various efforts to do things. I suppose it’s possible they’re just calling it like it is, but there certainly were no articles disparaging the other party. I think I might try to find some articles from when the NPP (other party) administration to see if they’re just critical of the party in power.
So I was sent out on assignment this afternoon with Stella, one of the reporters in the staffroom who was a newcomer to the city (although she’s been working 6 years for the paper in the Ghanaian second city of Kumasi). I think she got me since she was new, I felt a bit bad for her. Also, we had very little idea where the press conference we were attending was being held, which resulted in a few mishaps on the journey. That, combined with a stop at the bank and general traffic, meant we did not get there until 45 minutes after the official start time of the conference. I honestly had not thought that would be a problem, but it turns out they had started nearly close to time (probably 30 minutes late), so we only caught the last part of the translations and the q&a session. We waited around for about an hour afterwards to get a copy of the speech though, so no real harm was done. The news editor had each of us write our own story, presumably as a tryout for me. I doubt that my version will be in the paper, but Stella put my name on her story as well, so that was nice. In any case, I’ve mostly figured out where things (like the bathroom) are now, so I’m set to start work whenever the editor decides how good I am and gives me an assignment. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind tailing real reporters for a while instead of writing my own stories, since my personal goal here is to make contacts with people and understand the challenges of reporting – which I’m sure are different for a native who speaks the language than for a white girl with only English. My major challenge is going to be finding the place I need to go and hoping that the people I need to interview speak English.
On that note, Stella tells me that the hardest part about being a reporter in Ghana is the long hours (when events occur in the evening) and balancing them with family. Doesn’t sound too terribly different from the challenges of lots of working women. She said that reporters are not afraid to put their bylines on stories as long as they are giving both sides of a story and have their facts checked. It is when you do not have an opposing viewpoint that you’re sharing or you are exposing a high level official or something similar that you normally put “The front desk” as the byline – no Woodward and Bernstein here. It sounds like the actual publication of a controversial story is ok though, and the papers can withstand government pressure as whole entities.
That’s about all. I had a lovely but very long trip home with Albert, who works as a sort of courier for Navog (although that’s not to say he’s not an important member of the group, since there aren’t more than 5 or 6 people in the NGO). He told me he didn’t think that things changed very fast in Ghana – in terms of attitudes, infrastructure, etc. I’m not sure I agree with him, if you take a look at the sort of change that occurs with every generation, but it’s an interesting opinion to consider and reflects the opinion it seems of most people here that la plus ça change etc. It certainly supports Afropessimism. He’s also challenged me to a card game, although he said he won’t tell me which game until the time we play so that he can catch me off guard. Also, apparently there’s all night reggae music every Wednesday on the beach (8pm to dawn) that might be interesting to check out at some point. Apparently it’s a big tourist attraction though, with more white people than black people – definitely not a really ethnically Ghanaian event, just something fun that happens.
Alright, time for bed since I’m up so early.
Sunday night was awful. The power went out around 9:30 until maybe 11, so the super powered fan that allows me to sleep without bathing in my own sweat was dead in my prime laying in bed hours : (
Real post:
So Monday was a very eventful (and above all sweaty) day for me. I started work at the Daily Guide. Prince showed me how to figure out which tro-tro was going the direction I wanted (it involves hand signs and something close to an auctioneer’s call by the driver’s assistant). Tomorrow I get help again, and Wednesday I might try it on my own. The hardest part is really recognizing where I need to get off before I’ve passed it, particularly on the way home since it’s dark. Traffic is pretty terrible both ways, so apparently I’m going to be going to work around 7am and leaving for home around 7pm so that I can avoid being stuck for two hours in the congestion (normally it should be a 20 minute trip).
The Guide has a lovely office – air conditioned with internet – and the people seem mostly nice. Some of the reporters were very chatty and welcoming, although some seemed were less so because they working or else sort of blasé about the temporary freelance writer in their midst. Apparently I’m not an uncommon occurrence; there’s a Swiss Katherine in the newsroom as well who seems maybe about my age.
So today I read the newspaper to get an idea for the “house style” that I should be trying to emulate, which to be honest might be a bit hard since it’s more biased and sensational (in verb and adjective choice if in nothing else) than I’m used to writing in or reading news in. I’m sure US papers have house styles as well, but not quite in this way I think. I’ve also discovered that for all I’ve been told that the paper is not biased, it is highly critical of the current government’s efforts to attack the former ruling party’s officials and also uses some rather dismissive language about the new party’s various efforts to do things. I suppose it’s possible they’re just calling it like it is, but there certainly were no articles disparaging the other party. I think I might try to find some articles from when the NPP (other party) administration to see if they’re just critical of the party in power.
So I was sent out on assignment this afternoon with Stella, one of the reporters in the staffroom who was a newcomer to the city (although she’s been working 6 years for the paper in the Ghanaian second city of Kumasi). I think she got me since she was new, I felt a bit bad for her. Also, we had very little idea where the press conference we were attending was being held, which resulted in a few mishaps on the journey. That, combined with a stop at the bank and general traffic, meant we did not get there until 45 minutes after the official start time of the conference. I honestly had not thought that would be a problem, but it turns out they had started nearly close to time (probably 30 minutes late), so we only caught the last part of the translations and the q&a session. We waited around for about an hour afterwards to get a copy of the speech though, so no real harm was done. The news editor had each of us write our own story, presumably as a tryout for me. I doubt that my version will be in the paper, but Stella put my name on her story as well, so that was nice. In any case, I’ve mostly figured out where things (like the bathroom) are now, so I’m set to start work whenever the editor decides how good I am and gives me an assignment. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind tailing real reporters for a while instead of writing my own stories, since my personal goal here is to make contacts with people and understand the challenges of reporting – which I’m sure are different for a native who speaks the language than for a white girl with only English. My major challenge is going to be finding the place I need to go and hoping that the people I need to interview speak English.
On that note, Stella tells me that the hardest part about being a reporter in Ghana is the long hours (when events occur in the evening) and balancing them with family. Doesn’t sound too terribly different from the challenges of lots of working women. She said that reporters are not afraid to put their bylines on stories as long as they are giving both sides of a story and have their facts checked. It is when you do not have an opposing viewpoint that you’re sharing or you are exposing a high level official or something similar that you normally put “The front desk” as the byline – no Woodward and Bernstein here. It sounds like the actual publication of a controversial story is ok though, and the papers can withstand government pressure as whole entities.
That’s about all. I had a lovely but very long trip home with Albert, who works as a sort of courier for Navog (although that’s not to say he’s not an important member of the group, since there aren’t more than 5 or 6 people in the NGO). He told me he didn’t think that things changed very fast in Ghana – in terms of attitudes, infrastructure, etc. I’m not sure I agree with him, if you take a look at the sort of change that occurs with every generation, but it’s an interesting opinion to consider and reflects the opinion it seems of most people here that la plus ça change etc. It certainly supports Afropessimism. He’s also challenged me to a card game, although he said he won’t tell me which game until the time we play so that he can catch me off guard. Also, apparently there’s all night reggae music every Wednesday on the beach (8pm to dawn) that might be interesting to check out at some point. Apparently it’s a big tourist attraction though, with more white people than black people – definitely not a really ethnically Ghanaian event, just something fun that happens.
Alright, time for bed since I’m up so early.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Ghana Day 5
Yesterday I got a fair amount of exercise. I walked around for a couple hours trying to find first the forex bureau to change some money (successful) and then the beach (unsuccessful). I finally had a taxi take me to Coco Beach, which was nice enough although pretty well covered with trash in the section I was in. The driver told me 25 pesewas (100 pesewas = 1 cedi, pronounced seedy, valued at 1.42 cedis to the dollar), and then when we got there he told me 1.50 cedis and was like, “Maybe no one has taught you yet what you should pay.” Riiight. I gave him my 50 pesewa coin since that was the smallest I had and I didn’t feel like arguing, and I just got out. He dropped me at a Ramada Inn (very fancy resort on the beach) that I’m pretty sure was not there for public access to the beach, but since I’m obruni (Twi for white) and didn’t ask anyone, everyone assumed I belonged. I picked up a few pretty shells and took a couple pictures, but getting there more than staying was really the adventure.
Also, I got followed by a pig for an eighth of a mile. It was sort of funny.
Dinner was peanut sauce, which was excellent, and Grandma stuck in some Ghanaian cheese, which is pretty much exactly like paneer (Indian cheese), which I appreciate. It was served with mashed up rice; I probably would have preferred just regular rice, but I won’t be picky. It was quite good.
In the evening I went out with Steven (the Scot) and Prince, and we were joined by three of Steven’s friends from the 2nd division soccer/football team he coaches. It was a pleasant enough outing, although the music was very loud and my ears rang for a long time afterwards. In Ghana (as in other 2 African countries I’ve visited), the average bar is usually an outdoor area with plastic tables and chairs and a set of speakers. It’s kind of nice to hang out outside when it’s cooler out, as long as you don’t forget to put on the bug spray.
While I was at the internet café yesterday, waiting for the internet connection to get restored, I met a girl named Millicent who seemed very nice. At the end of our chat, in which she had professed her interest in being my friend and we had a nice discussion about where we both came from and so on, she asked me to come to her church in the morning, and I was like what the hell. Not exactly like that of course.
So not knowing anything about the Pentecostal Church (and honestly, probably still not knowing much about its western variety), I showed up at 7am this morning at our meeting place and we went to a church that is also usually a school. Millicent asked me if I would mind covering my hair and helped me put on a head scarf for the occasion. The kids were having Sunday school, which involved some pretty cute dance routines. The service itself was certainly something I’m glad to have gone to, but definitely not something that I was thrilled to actually sit through. It lasted about 2 hours (once it started at 9ish), and around half was a sermon and half was song and dance. The latter was definitely the more entertaining part, since I don’t so much speak Twi. There was a drum set rather than an organ, which I think I prefer since it’s more conducive to not falling asleep. A couple times some of the ladies who were taken by the spirit to do so got up and formed a sort of Conga line to the front, where they circled up and danced before going back to their seats. It was much more entertaining when the men did it of course; I don’t think anyone will argue with me when I say that on the whole, African men have a far better sense of rhythm and dance skills than American men. There were also several sections of loud prayer, where everybody got to shout their own personal prayers in their own way. Altogether, besides the (for me) very conservative views of this particular church, I think this is probably one of the best services I’ve been to.
Of course I’ve long been convinced that going to church as an atheistic spectator and pretending to go along with things makes me a particularly bad type of sinner. This was rubbed into my face when at the end visitors to the church (ie me) were invited to the front to be welcomed, and the pastor said, “Can we expect to see you here in church to take fellowship for the rest of your stay?” before handing me the microphone in front of a crowded church. I declined as nicely as I could, although I’m not sure there was really an acceptable answer to them besides yes. I’m afraid I might have gotten myself into a little more than I could handle there. But still, it was a good experience to have had.
That’s about all for the weekend. I start work tomorrow. Hopefully tonight I’m going to interview Steven, who’s pretty excited to give me a story about his team before he leaves the country Wednesday. It will be good to show up with an article (or the makings of one) tomorrow so I can impress my editor and get a good assignment faster, even if it is an article about sports.
Also, I got followed by a pig for an eighth of a mile. It was sort of funny.
Dinner was peanut sauce, which was excellent, and Grandma stuck in some Ghanaian cheese, which is pretty much exactly like paneer (Indian cheese), which I appreciate. It was served with mashed up rice; I probably would have preferred just regular rice, but I won’t be picky. It was quite good.
In the evening I went out with Steven (the Scot) and Prince, and we were joined by three of Steven’s friends from the 2nd division soccer/football team he coaches. It was a pleasant enough outing, although the music was very loud and my ears rang for a long time afterwards. In Ghana (as in other 2 African countries I’ve visited), the average bar is usually an outdoor area with plastic tables and chairs and a set of speakers. It’s kind of nice to hang out outside when it’s cooler out, as long as you don’t forget to put on the bug spray.
While I was at the internet café yesterday, waiting for the internet connection to get restored, I met a girl named Millicent who seemed very nice. At the end of our chat, in which she had professed her interest in being my friend and we had a nice discussion about where we both came from and so on, she asked me to come to her church in the morning, and I was like what the hell. Not exactly like that of course.
So not knowing anything about the Pentecostal Church (and honestly, probably still not knowing much about its western variety), I showed up at 7am this morning at our meeting place and we went to a church that is also usually a school. Millicent asked me if I would mind covering my hair and helped me put on a head scarf for the occasion. The kids were having Sunday school, which involved some pretty cute dance routines. The service itself was certainly something I’m glad to have gone to, but definitely not something that I was thrilled to actually sit through. It lasted about 2 hours (once it started at 9ish), and around half was a sermon and half was song and dance. The latter was definitely the more entertaining part, since I don’t so much speak Twi. There was a drum set rather than an organ, which I think I prefer since it’s more conducive to not falling asleep. A couple times some of the ladies who were taken by the spirit to do so got up and formed a sort of Conga line to the front, where they circled up and danced before going back to their seats. It was much more entertaining when the men did it of course; I don’t think anyone will argue with me when I say that on the whole, African men have a far better sense of rhythm and dance skills than American men. There were also several sections of loud prayer, where everybody got to shout their own personal prayers in their own way. Altogether, besides the (for me) very conservative views of this particular church, I think this is probably one of the best services I’ve been to.
Of course I’ve long been convinced that going to church as an atheistic spectator and pretending to go along with things makes me a particularly bad type of sinner. This was rubbed into my face when at the end visitors to the church (ie me) were invited to the front to be welcomed, and the pastor said, “Can we expect to see you here in church to take fellowship for the rest of your stay?” before handing me the microphone in front of a crowded church. I declined as nicely as I could, although I’m not sure there was really an acceptable answer to them besides yes. I’m afraid I might have gotten myself into a little more than I could handle there. But still, it was a good experience to have had.
That’s about all for the weekend. I start work tomorrow. Hopefully tonight I’m going to interview Steven, who’s pretty excited to give me a story about his team before he leaves the country Wednesday. It will be good to show up with an article (or the makings of one) tomorrow so I can impress my editor and get a good assignment faster, even if it is an article about sports.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
