Lesson the first is one that every budding anthropologist learns intellectually in class before encountering it in the field. Or I hope they do. But anyway, it is the lesson that the part does not always stand for the whole, or, just because someone grew up in the place/among the people you are studying, does not mean they know everything about that place/those people. Luckily for me, the object lesson was a rather simple one surrounding barnyard animals. I was sure that the animal in the first compound we stayed was a sheep, but John thought it was a goat. I asked a friend, and he said it was a goat (hence my reference to it as a goat a few posts back). Later I said to the woman who owned the animal “a-pon-chin” (which is roughly the phonetic spelling for the word for goat), and she laughed and said something different, which I didn’t catch, which turned out to be the word for “sheep.”

Lesson the second was less humourous, and more embarrassing and irritating. I was in a taxi, and the driver and the passenger pulled a fast one on me, got me to reveal where I kept my money, and stole 15 Ghana Cedis from me. Basically they were insisting that I push a sort of rubber thing around the window that was falling off onto the window. The driver kept saying “no, this way” and ripping it off and then motioning for me to push it again. Then the passenger offered to pay, but didn’t have change, so the driver asked if I had change. I paid for the fair, opening my zippered pocket and revealing where I kept my “walking around” money (thankfully I always keep more significant amounts separately—I had 60 cedis for a new phone in another pocket). Then things got really loud and confusing and upsetting until they stopped and told me to get another cab. When I got to town, I realized that my money was gone.

Since I this happened the woman I’m living with (my African mother… she introduces me as “me ba Kanada” i.e., my Canadian daughter) insists on giving me a ride to and from town whenever our schedules collide. She’s also advised me to use the tro-tro rather than shared taxi, because apparently these types of scams are one of the more common forms of petty crime, and occasionally are rather more dangerous. Since this happen several Ghanaians have confessed that similar things have happened to them (it’s actually the reason that my Ghanaian mother has a car).

The last comment on this blog was my Grandmother worrying about my safety here, so I want to assure people that Ghana is very politically stable right now. There are some problems in the North, exacerbated by poverty and religious differences, but those problems are fairly contained there. As for this experience, it is much like what one can encounter in any large city, again, exacerbated by poverty and the fact that this is a cash-based society. I have learned some valuable lessons about how to stay safe at a fairly low cost: avoid shared taxis, be alert when people are trying to confuse you, and don’t carry more money that you have to. I’ve also gained the sympathy and concern of several Ghanaians, who are helping me find alternatives to shared taxis. So please don’t worry, and certainly don’t drop by this blog on a web search or link-in and take this single event as standing in for Ghana.

Filed under: Ghana Anthropology