“Yes the police are very strict. Getting a ticket is awful, not because it’s expensive, but because you have to wait all day while you try to pay it."

August 18, 2010

Two weeks ago, I called the head of the department at Kumasi to ask him when he wanted me to come and present my research to the department. When I interviewed people in Kumasi, a few of them expressed frustration with how long it takes for research to be written up and effect any change. I heard “how will this benefit me” from more than one person. While I think it is a legitimate question,

(Not-so-irrelevant aside: Formal research is not very common here. There is very little incentive to publish findings, and only 2 or 3 people out of 70 physicians that I interviewed reported getting funding for their research. Most of them said angrily, “the research that I do is funded by myself and it takes up even more time in my busy schedule.” The professors are required to do research to get/keep their status as a professor (as opposed to a lecturer or senior lecturer) but I have met very, very few people who were excited about research.)

Anyway, most obstetricians are not very exposed to research and consequently don’t understand that research doesn’t always (or usually) benefit the person involved in the study. That’s another reason why I love research so much—it takes so long for stuff to get done that you are usually working to benefit the next generation, not your own. It’s kind of altruistic in a way. So… “how will this benefit me” – I usually say, “This research will help inform international policy and will benefit other countries by supporting the founding of a similar postgraduate training program and other similar partnerships like the one between the University of Michigan and the two universities in Ghana,” they seem unconvinced that it is worth their time.

(Not-so-relevant aside: Any resistance that I receive initially usually dissipates within a few minutes of starting the interview. Like many things in life, the hardest part is convincing them to agree to do the thing. I think if I weren’t as sensitive to people’s reactions, I wouldn’t notice half of the resistance that I’ve encountered. None of it has been offensive or posed a problem to my research. The nuances in people’s attitudes were really insightful into Ghana’s medical field, its relationship with nonmedical people, and Ghanaians’ attitudes toward abrofuo and western culture.)

ANYWAY, I called Prof. O-A and he said, “oh, we are going to be administering examinations all next week, so why don’t you come up to Kumasi and do your presentation at tomorrow’s morning meeting?” I scanned my mental list of commitments and asked myself if I could handle 6 more hours in a car/bus/tro-tro, since last week we drove to Takoradi (10 hours in a bus and car in one day), Ho (3 hours in a big tro-tro, 2 more hours in a taxi), Tema (1 hour in a tro-tro) for work and then 6 hours to and from Hohoe over the weekend. I decided that I could probably handle it, esp. because Kwadwo was unavailable this week so I was not expecting to schedule many interviews this week. Within an hour, I had eaten and packed and was at the VIP station to buy a ticket to Kumasi. With the help from a Ghanaian guy and his mom, and amusement provided by a Ghanaian guy who, upon learning that I was from the United States, whipped out his American passport and said, “THE UNITED STATES? I LIVE IN COLORADO!”, I was on my way to Kumasi. I sat next to a guy (forgot his name—gave him my email address though, so we’ll see if he ever emails me) and he owns a laboratory and talked about how we can develop a partnership and I can buy things for him in the USA and he will pay me back. They showed 3 Nigerian movies, 2 called True Love (the first and the sequel), and something like Church Swapping or something. The first 2 were pretty funny—True Love #1 was about a girl who lived with her retired military father. Her mother had died in childbirth, and the dad was ridiculously protective of her, so when her fiancé came to visit, the dad put him through all kinds of absurd trials.

(Aside: They also watch a lot of Spanish/Mexican (?) soap operas translated to English. Why are some countries so into absolutely awful television entertainment when other countries like France are super artsy and classy??)

The second one was WAY worse—the dad decided to remarry a girl who was the same age as the daughter. The fiancé (now husband- he passed all the trials!) cheated on the daughter, and the dad’s new wife turned out to be marrying him just for his money when he died. She was also cheating on him. The third one was the best—

(Disgusting aside: Apparently tomato paste and tomato sauce aren’t the same things. My dinner of Ramen noodles (without seasoning), tomato paste, and boiled carrots is really not as awesome as I was expecting. Why does 1) it get dark so early?? It’s like I’m grounded every night unless I can get a boy to go find food with me, and 2) Ya not have her shop open on the weekends? I’ll answer that… she plays mother to everyone in the hostel and cooks lunch and dinner for everyone every day. I think she lives in the hostel, and she is ALWAYS in “Ya’s Place”, the little shop in the hostel. Eeek. I’d need to get out at least once a day if I were her!!)

The third movie. Husband and wife. The husband meets this woman who falls in love with him. She’s a sorceress. Whenever he does anything she doesn’t like, she kills someone close to him. He is forced to allow her to move in with him and his wife, and she is always trying to make out with him. She makes the wife cook her food and stuff, and when the wife’s friend tells the wife to stand up for herself, the friend gets zapped and dies. Throughout the whole movie, everyone is screaming and hand-drawn neon blue light shoots out from the sorceress’s hands when she kills people.

I thought I’d post something a little lighter after the drunk driving post, so I decided to continue the transportation stories. The title of the post is what Sabina (my helper in Kumasi) said as she made an illegal U-turn and then ran a red light. She wasn’t kidding either!! I think she goes by Christina and my rule: there are 4 colors on a traffic light—green, yellow, red, and scarlet. Here in Ghana, red is like a warning that scarlet is going to come. There’s a 5-second delay after the light turns red before it is deemed an illegal scarlet. Then, you might maybe one day get pulled over, although I’ve never seen a police pull someone over here. They just stand at the police checkpoints and stop cars as they slow down to go single-file through the police barriers. The police have flashlights and they take about 4 seconds to scan each car. If you have a sticker that says your father is a member of parliament (a HUGE deal here), the police are not allowed to pull you over. I think they are more lenient with abrofuo and I was in a tro-tro that got stopped and (I think) randomly selected to go through a check – all the passengers had to get out. I was sitting in my normal princess place in the middle in the front, and the guy next to me (obviously upper-class by his dress and attitude) said, “ahem, excuse me.” The police officer came over, said, “oh I didn’t see you in the car. I’m sorry. Have a good day!” and then told the people to get back in the car. I asked the business guy if he knew the police officer and he said that he used to work with him, but it definitely seemed like a boss/subservient relationship to me. The guy wasn’t wearing fatigues or anything military-style, so I’m wondering if he was some sort of a minister or member of parliament or something.

Ghanaian proverb for the day: Do not follow the path. Go where there is no path to begin a trail. (HA. HA. HA. Is that referring to Ghanaian roads?)