Warm, but cooler greetings from the rainforest! The Ghanaians claim that they're freezing, I know need a sheet some nights. But, this is never, never, let me repeat, this place is never COLD. Sorry, I've been slow to write anything here. I've been just muddling along without much change to report. Don't think for a minute that I haven't thought of you'all. It happens enough that I'm reluctant to admit the truth. Basically, I'm ok and I hope that's true other there..... The first chunk of this is about birding, so skip to below if that's not your cup of tea.

Ok, ok Temple, thanks for the nudge! But first, I must warn you that I’ve done far less birding here than I ever imagined. Why?, a myriad of reasons--weather, noise problem and security issues, etc. Weather, more correctly the heat which dictates activity timing and that means that I can either exercise in the morning or not at all. As you know morning is the best birding time, so birding time is trumped by exercise time. I’m more depressed without exercise than without birding—the pecking order. I can’t seem to mix the two, at least not while maintaining my target cardio level.

Then there’s the loudspeaker/noise problem. I never hear any birds at my house due to the incessant noise, whether from the loudspeakers or my neighbors’ radios. Since I’m a sound-birder, not a sight-birder, I’m missing my best bird-finding skill. There’s simply no running outside to identify that odd squawk, peep or whistle here. About once a week the electricity is off in the a.m. and I’m stunned stupid by the morning chorus. Even if I could hear it, looking out of my house doesn’t work since I need curtains to curtail prying eyes. (I’m the source of great curiosity and some days it is simply overwhelming and I want to “flip-off” everyone. Just so you don’t think I’m angelic, note that I’ve screamed at the local children more times than I care to mention, esp. when they’re screaming, “obruni,” which means “white person.” There are days….)

Another reason for my slim birding is safety; I don’t go birding by myself for fear of assault or even worse. Weekly, people are attacked somewhere in Ghana for their cell phones, etc., so I don’t want to tempt anyone with my binocs. That’s not to suggest that I live in fear, but rather I’m very, very careful. I do go birding in the park alone and I feel utterly safe there. I’ve identified about half of the “published species” in the park (100+ of the 200+ species—Ghana has over 600 species recorded??). Also, I’ve birded in and around the village. That reminds me to mention that there are great birders in Ghana, just like everywhere else, but finding them is no picnic (I’ve now met Larry P’s equivalent here—similarly encyclopedic and that makes me homesick). Regardless, the Ghanaian birders are an elusive lot and some don’t even own binocs, so identifying them by “plumage” isn’t reliable. Along the same vein, the park hosts a birding tour group nearly every month or so, mostly European and African birders. I watch them with an odd mixture of curiosity and awe, noticing too that my birding identity has been surgically removed, albeit temporarily I hope. (I’m not worrying about this, although it’s certainly odd. I must believe that this is simply another casualty of all things new and challenging!) By the way, many of the birders here are “family” listers, just last week I met a pair from Rochester, NY and they were flying into Cote d’ Ivoire for the helmeted (?) guinea fowl; they promised to send me an update.

And finally, there’s the rainforest itself—it is visually impenetrable, so unlike the visually spacious savannahs or prairies. The rainforest presents a nearly solid wall of tangled greens. If a bird slips out to the edge, it just as likely slips back in more quickly. Following a bird on foot in the rainforest is impossible, chainsaws and bulldozers would work, although that is exactly the problem all over the planet. So, the canopy walkway is great for mid- to top-canopy viewing, although the birds pop in and out and following them is impossible. I’m always grateful for the predators (diurnal raptors); they generously soar or lurk about most of the day. Birding from the walkway is tough; it is shaky, but possible in early a.m. before all the visitors arrive. The seven tree platforms are terrific for viewing, they’re about the size of a modern gas station bathroom, 10 x 10ish with a big tree in the middle. (I could stay there all day, but the visitors are annoying—squealing children, obnoxious teenagers with knives to carve initials in the trees, etc.) By the way, pishing doesn’t work at all, although some S. African birders claim to the contrary. It could be my pishing?? (Dear Non-birders, “pishing” is a funny sound that birders make to entice birds out of the bush, at best it really works, at worse you’re simply a little daft.)

Ok, that all means that my birding time has been slim and much accomplished without binocs. Oh, one minor footnote, I almost forgot about the insect challenge. Insects here mimic the birds (and I’m told vice versa), especially calls and flight behaviors, not to mention their comparable size. I wish I could adequately describe the insect sounds, they’re otherworldly. For the longest time I thought someone (a teenager?) was goofing around with their cell phone in the park. I then thought it had to be an employee!? I’ll try for a recording; otherwise no one will believe me. (Yes, all the sounds are novel here, nothing is recognizable. Just last week I learned to distinguish the haunting-wailish-cry of the bush babies, they’re a native nocturnal primate—have I talked about the animals?? Check out pangolins for comic relief. Soon….)

Ok, so here’s the park bird list to date (my Ghana list is longer, but I haven’t organized it yet--soon):

Gray Parrot
Yellow-billed turaco
Cassin’s spinetail
Common swift
Forest woodhoopoe
Piping hornbill
Red-rumped tinkerbird
Bristle-mosed barbet
Vieillot’s barbet
Yellow-billed barbet
Cassin’s honeyguide
Buff-spotted woodpecker
Rufous-sided broadbill
Lesser-striped swallow
Grey-baked camaroptera
Sharpe’s apalis
Ashy flycatcher
Chestnut-capped flycatcher
African yellow whiteeye
Copper sunbird
Little green sunbird
Superb sunbird
Large-billed sabine’s puffback
Western black-headed oriole
Plum-colored starling

And now the update on all other matters….

First, I’ve posted some other photos at: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/dxebird7/my_photos

The work at the Park with the NGO is effectively at a standstill. I’m caught on a slippery bureaucratic slope. The NGO wants me to “run” the park and Peace Corps wants me to work with a Ghanaian/s to “run the park.” Peace Corps maintains that no volunteer may take the job of a host-country national, which is exactly what the NGO proposes. The NGO said they would hire someone last fall, alas no has been interviewed yet. I understand how volunteers can look good on the financial statement, however, the NGO’s attempt to solve their staffing issues with volunteers and interns isn’t working so well, not to mention in direct conflict with Peace Corps policies. So, work at the park is on-hold, regardless, I go there everyday and work on my social capital. I love the employees, they make me laugh everyday. Working “retail” takes special people—they must like people!! The real concern is my Norma Rae complex; I’m secretly afraid that I’ll become a union organizer. I hate how the management of the NGO treats the employees (chattel). One foot in front of the other….

Luckily, community/development work is rewarding. I’ve met with several groups in town to discuss business, all small scale issues, but at least engaging. The schools want me to do anything and I plan to teach English at the local J.S.S. (our Jr. High equivalent) and help with evening tutoring at the Primary School when both resume after their August recess. Earlier this month I took the headmaster from the local school to the internet café and helped him establish an email account and then I tutored a bit about browsing, etc. (I’m simply amazed some days….) Mr. Ghanni (gun-knee), er, ah, Isaac, the headmaster with the softest-ever-voice asked me to teach the kids something about HIV/AIDS in the fall, which will happen if I can get a Ghanaian teacher to co-teach/facilitate. Peace Corps is big on HIV/AIDS education and in African it’s a really big deal…sadly….

In addition, I’ve met with two local chiefs (called Nanas), at Jukwa Banso and Frami, to discuss development issues. Jukwa plans to extend their water pipe and Frami wishes to build a market area by the roadside to sell their local produce. The countryside and villages are littered with the skeletons of good-intentioned projects that have failed, mostly because they weren’t sustainable (give a fish or teach to fish?!). Despite the years of unfulfilled government promises, misguided NGOs and other development debacles, I’m amazed that communities remain hopeful about their futures. (What else do we have besides hopes and dreams??) To my surprise, both communities want to “make” me a Queen Mother (yes, the Brit legacy). If it happens there will be a really big party with lots of drumming, music, hoopla, funny hats, shoes and careful draping of native fabric (then I’ll be called Nana He-ma and people will curtsy before me—eye rolling now for sure!).

In three nearby communities, I’ve arranged to bring a bicycle project that offers half-price bikes and teaches the recipients how to maintain them. The workshops are scheduled for January 2007 and I’m jazzed about it. So far, over 60 people have signed-up and 120 bikes are reserved. You can learn more about The Village Bicycle Project at: www.pcei.org/vbp

Besides all that, my other job in Abrafo-Odumase is simply to be a U.S. representative. These poor people, they got a moody, odd-ball eccentric with leftist-feminist-organic-DIYer-yankee-ingenuity notions, none-the-less, I give it my best effort and always strive to stay on this side of the propriety. Mostly, I’m good. I’m far more social than I ever imagined. Sociability is the most defining aspect of this culture, at least in the villages. In the morning, it is important to go greet your neighbors, just say “hello” and move on. Greetings are so important that they devote at least a week to all the nuances during training. Because I’m “mature,” I’m given much more respect than my younger PC pals. This is an elder-centric culture. Young children will attempt to carry anything in my arms. Seating is by age, starting in front with the oldest, they get the best seats. The shift from the U.S. youth-centric culture is palpable. I feel oddly pampered.

Besides everything else, presently my biggest challenge presently is learning to walk like a Ghanaian woman. They are so incredibly smooth, strangely a gait similar to geishas, even at my slowest, they think I’m running. Their posture is perfect, honed under buckets of everything. My next tactic is simply to get a skirt made like theirs—tight-tight and ankle length. I don’t know how I’ll get on a tro-tro, but I’m going to learn this, it’s so-so sexy….

Rough segue, actually no segue…. Inhale, exhale….

The noise in Abrafo continues. I spend a lot of time in earplugs and I hate it. The earplug world is surreal—hummmmmmmm. Tonight there’s a wake-keeping as a prelude to a funeral tomorrow, so even earplugs don’t work that well. Have I described funerals yet? It’s the largest cultural expression here—that sentence isn’t “right,” but I can’t fix it. Since I’m going to a funeral tomorrow, I’ll be able to write more about that next time, suffice to say that funerals are the most common and attended social activities in Ghana.

There’s a really big chance that I’ll be moving to a cool, “architect’s” house on the outer edge of town. Miami University Architecture students have been coming to Abrafo-Odumase for several years and they’ve built a community center, a market area, a library and this great little bungalow of a “guest house.” I’m waiting to hear from the electric co. Currently, no pun intended, the house is wired, but not connected to the grid (grid = wire and maybe or maybe not pole). The village elders seem evenly split between, “yes,” I’ll need a pole vs. the “no pole,” camp. I’m cautiously optimistic. The NGO, Chief Appiako and the Community Committee want me to be there. I’m just hoping that I can afford the pole or whatever. NGO probably won’t pay for the connection and Peace Corps doesn’t guarantee electricity, so if it can happen it will be on my dime. I’m thinking it worth about $100-200, which here equals 1 or 2 million cedis. I can’t live in this climate without a fan. I could do without just about everything else. There’s no way to know when or if this might happen—everything here is on “Ghanaian time.” There’s a website about the house/project, but I can’t seem to locate it today?? Next time, or search Miami University for Ghana.

What else? I’m healthy and mostly happy, although some days I’m so grumpy, I wonder if I didn’t fall out of bed on my head during the night. The Peace Corps types all say, “it’s the heat, or the malaria medicine, or it’s the culture.” Whatever….

In about a week I’ll be 50. I can’t believe it. Of course, I wish I was there and having a big party--postponed until I get home. In the meantime, I’m gonna celebrate here with PC buddies in Techiman, site of our training and home of my first Ghanaian family—Mommi Jane and the kids. Many volunteers are converging for the swearing-in of the new teacher group, which marks Peace Corps 45^th year in Ghana and the Ghanaian President will be there (not at my party). My pal Katie, the art teacher at the deaf school, has created beautiful invites out of watercolor paper with a cut-out bluebird that somehow comes apart origami-fashion to reveal the inner text. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but I’m gonna leave it alone….

I think of everyone more than seems normal and the oddest little things get me started down the nostalgia path. Songs remind me of people, this week it has been a song about laughing that reminds me of Martha’s invincibility and joy (sorry the title and artist both elude me at the moment, which isn’t unusual, I spent most of last week trying to remember Roy Orbison’s name--I could sing about 20 of his songs—oh well—welcome to peri-menapause!).

Thanks to all those who write and/or send goodies—it is such a treat to hear from home and the goodies, well words are insufficient.

Mary and Tammara, you deserve a medal for continued support and care packages and kudos to Ms. DHL herself, Nancy D. you’re my lifeline!

Healing thoughts to Jen and Carole’s father, everyone else.

Always…xoxo…d

P.S. Birthday wishes to Pop, Jon, Bloomington Cindy, Dear-dear birthmates--Cuz Di and JEB, to OT before the end of the month; then belated wishes to Landis and Kathy E. I’m forgetting someone?? Sorry!