All in Good Time

Time is of the essence.  No where is this less true than in Ghana.  'Ghanaian time' takes getting used to.  Tro-tros do not follow a schedule, nor a set route (three times I have taken a tro-tro to 'Odowna', and each time I have been dropped off in different places, forced to once again find my way to work); buses going out of town leave only when every seat is taken; people arrive to work when is convenient and take 2 hour lunch breaks; scheduled meetings or conferences often start late or end up in no shows. We've now been waiting for a week for a plumber to come fix our shower-head.

When I first arrived, I asked the club president more than once to coordinate a meeting with the editorial team. "Kallan, there is no hurry, we have lots of time".   When a meeting was finally called, only two members showed up. Albeit frustrating, we had been warned that our first month of work would be an adjustment.  "Take this opportunity to relax a bit, things will be slow but you'll get them done", I was advised by my placement supervisor. My co-interns working in newsrooms are also learning that for many Ghanaian journalists, the story gets done when it gets done.  And so, as much as I may grind my teeth over deadlines and delays, I'm starting to relax and realize that sometimes time is what we make of it.

North American culture is strict with timing and we are quick to judge those who do not adhere to schedules- and for good reason.  Our lives are fast-paced as we strive to accomplish as much in a day as possible.  Of course it is disrespectful if you show up late to a meeting, or it is a complete nuisance if your bus doesn't leave on time but this is a result of living in a society that focuses on the individual rather than the collective.  We seem to always be in a hurry.  Rarely do we take the time to stop and enjoy the small things in life, including each other.

In 2007, a casually-dressed man took out his violin at a Washington DC Metro Station and played six Bach pieces over the course of an hour. In that time, 1,100 people passed him.  Most were rushing on their way to work and few stopped to listen.  Three minutes in, one man stopped, briefly, before rushing off.  One minute later, a woman walking by dropped a dollar into his hat then hurried on.  By the end of the hour, only 6 people had stopped to listen and approximately 20 gave money while passing by.  He collected a total of $32.  When he was finished and put his instrument away, there was no applause.

So what is so special about this story?  The man was Joshua Bell, a world-renowned classical musician.  His violin was worth 3.5 million dollars.  His show in Boston 2 days earlier had sold out, with the average ticket costing $100.  You can read the full, lengthy story courtesy of the National Post here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html 

I too can relate to the hustle and bustle of a morning commute.  Were it me and I was rushing to catch my train, I can't say that I for sure would have taken the time to stop.

As observed by a blogger for The Long Now Foundation: "If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made, how many other things are we missing?"

I've made it my mission to observe, enjoy and take in as much of the culture and beauty of Ghana as I can.  I don't want to miss anything. As someone whose weakness, I admit, is observing my surroundings,  I'm hoping being here will help change that.  I try to greet people whether it's the old woman selling water down the street or the children grinning from ear to ear because they've spotted on Obroni.  I ask questions and though I am here to teach, I want to learn as much as I possibly can.

Yesterday myself and two students piled into a crammed van with little leg space and no air conditioning at Kineshi Market, for our three hour journey to Cape Coast to chase a lead on a story.  As expected, there was no set time to leave and we all patiently waited for the car to fill with passengers. Then we were off, weaving in and out of traffic (might I add, with little care for rules of the road; at one point our driver passed a car and remained driving for one full minute in the oncoming lane! Traffic and road deaths are another post in itself), and eventually exiting Accra.

I had brought a book with me to pass time during the anticipated long ride thinking it would be a good chance to do some light reading.  As we left Accra however, I decided that the next few hours would be spent taking in as much as I could, seeing as this was my first trip outside the city.

I made the right decision.  Had I been reading my book, I wouldn't have noticed the young boy, all alone, walking along a dirt path on the highway whilst balancing a pile of wood on his head; why is he not in school?  I would not have observed the hundreds of roadside stands, some only metres apart, of coconuts, pineapples, papaya and plantane; how does each person make a living when there are so many? Nor the schoolyards of children playing soccer, the herd of sheep wandering through town or the men dangling monkeys for sale by their tails.   I would likely have not paid attention to the many street vendors who come up to the car windows when traffic slows, selling anything from food and water to phone credit and flip flops and running after the vehicle as it starts to pull away just to ensure they make a sale.  I would have missed the community of women selling kenkey, what I misheard as pancake, a dumpling-like dish made of corn, each individual sitting behind a painted name plaque; 'Patience,  Doris, Auntie Esther'.   I would not have glanced at the small businesses with names like 'Faith Tailor', 'Glorious Jesus Boutique' or 'Shalom Salon', an indication of just how large a role religion plays in the lives of Ghanaians. N.b. Christianity is prominent in the South while it is predominantly Islamic in the North; a peaceful co-existence.

I wouldn't have noted the amount of slums surrounded by beach resorts or beautiful compounds.  I would never have seen the small child crouching in a landfill to relieve themselves because 2.3 million Ghanaians don't have access to a toilet, with poor sanitation and dirty water as the cause of death for 2,000 Ghanaian children every day.  I would not have spotted a naked old man standing in a busy market, a grin on his face, perhaps too poor to afford clothing, perhaps mentally ill or perhaps just enjoying life because sometimes the inner Richard Hatch in all of us wants to come out.

Most of all I wouldn't have had the privilege of taking in the luscious landscape that is Ghana, abundant in coconut trees, vast rolling hills and dense forests.

This is the livelihood of Ghanaians.  It is how many of its 25 million people live, work play and even survive.  Had I chosen to read, those moments would have been lost in time.  I would have missed it all.  A 3 hour drive taught me way more than any book ever could, giving me a small peek into the complex lives of those living in a country stricken with poverty.  Yet they smile, laugh and take the time to chat to one another because there is no need to rush.  There is just a need to get by, one day at a time.

Time is of the essence. In another sense this is true because in the end, we have so little of it.  It's up to us to choose how we spend it.  We can all learn something from Ghanaian culture. Listen, observe, relax and take time to enjoy.  You just might find something you didn't know you were looking for.