Trash, And Other Thoughts

Until very recently I had not seen a real trash can in this country. It's funny to realize how ingrained it is in us from an early age to put waste in some sort of receptacle. Here, not so. Trash is thrown on the ground, in the gutters (3 foot deep crevasses in the streets), out windows - anywhere basically. I walk by one sizable trash pile on my way to school each day. The smell is significant and there's usually chickens digging through it for morsels. Delish. In Eguafo we have one bag in our kitchen for trash, and I'm pretty sure it just gets dumped in the heap. But hey, at least the obruni feel better. When you're in a city, you learn to just throw the trash down. It feels WRONG, but if you didn't, you'd just have pockets full of trash. (Not to be overly graphic, but this same principle generally applies to human waste. I've seen people go pretty much anywhere. I try to admire the lack of shame for general functions of the human body...) Anyway, this weekend two other volunteers and I traveled to Koforidua in the Eastern region of Ghana. Travel here is not easy. It couldn't have been more than 160 km total, but it was 7 hours each way of bone - jarring trotro ride. I'm learning to turn a switch in my brain and become catatonic to endure the rides. The main reason we went to Koforidua was to visit Boti Falls. The falls were beautiful, maybe 60 foot drop into a lagoon. It wasn't crowded either and was reminiscent ofJurassicPark, minus the velociraptors. Imagine my surprise to see a legitimate trash can at Boti Falls. With wheels and a lid and everything. How commendable to try to keep nature unspoiled! I was so amazed by this trash can, and kept looking at it. Looked just like ones at home. As I got closer and looked at the top of the lid, I see "Property of City of Austin" on this green trash can in the middle of the Ghanaian bush. I was completely shocked - I think I screamed even. Multiple pictures were then taken as proof. Then, leaving the falls we caught a trotro heading back into town. We climbed into the very back row and set off. Sixty seconds later we hear a very loud and distressed "MAAAAAA!!". We scream, turn around, and there's a goat tied up in the cargo space behind us. My first vehicular livestock experience. I told myself he was being taken to meet his new wives, and not some less happy ending. The next ten minutes of the ride were punctuated with the goat wailing every 20 seconds. I was glad for him when he and the farmer reached their stop. Besides seeing objects from home and goats in minivans, traveling within Ghana makes me grateful for Eguafo, and that's good perspective. I'm not just obruni in Eguafo, but when I walk up to buy toilet paper (no Quilted Northern, mind you) or a Fanta, kids call out "Madam Amanda!". A good reminder that while I'm far away from home, Eguafo is my African home for now.