Road Rage

From never fully adjusting to riding on the left side of the road in South Africa to coping with my fear of Cairo, Egypt's traffic (aptly described as 'controlled chaos') and feeling my heart in my throat as we climbed down the Andes in a bus on a road with no guard rails, I think my travels to destinations have been as interesting as the time I spent there. So I was looking forward to what might be in store in Ghana...

As defined by Wikipedia: The free encyclopedia, road rage is behavior by a driver of an automobile or other motor vehicle which causes collisions or incidents on roadways. I'm sure most of us have been on either side of the road rage equation and some may even have vivid memories that quickly come to mind. Fortunately for the majority of us, as far as I'm aware, these incidents are far and in between. I've found such is not the case here in Ghana.

Due to it's relatively small size, I was shocked to learn that Ghana is in the top 10 leading nations for fatalities due to road accidents, number 6 to be exact (i.e. if my memory serves me correctly). Many of the accidents involve the tro tro's that I wrote about in my earlier blog, On the Road Again. It's nothing out of the ordinary to read in the paper that another fatal accident has occurred with victims dying at the scene. One of the most vivid in my mind are two accidents that occured on this pasat Valentine's day each claiming over 20 lives! It's truly a national tragedy and has captivated the pens of many of journalists in their recent articles, calling for action.

As with many ills of society, the problem/solution is not singular and one can rightly point to several factors such as bad roads, lack of enforcement and/or adherence of traffic laws, or faulty vehicles just to name a few. I'm not sure who's more at fault but one question that bothered me deeply and that I finally asked is, "Do the drivers of the tro tro's know that their wreckless driving are one of the major culprits?" And the answer was, "Yes, they know!" Another listener chimed in, "And if you say something to them, they'll insult you."

Now don't get me wrong after taking a driver profile examination during a driving school class for a speeding violation, I learned that I am an aggressive driver. Okay fair enough. But it's one thing to be an aggressive driver, who goes over the speed limit on an open highway with no cars around ;), and another thing being a part of a US $165 million problem. And being indignant when confronted about it! That is the estimated cost of accidents to the country, including medical costs and lost of human productivity among others.

As with any story however, there are two sides. Many of these drivers, an estimated 85%, have no formal training. Many of the faulty vehicles are illegitmately certified by inspection offers, often due to bribery. And even if these drivers know their vehicles need repair, good luck with trying to convince them to pay the relatively high prices for the vehicle parts. These are not excuses, but realities that are working against the driver as he takes his seat. Yet in it all, it would be wise for these drivers, and all other stakeholders, to heed an African proverb that I recently learned: "A stitch in time saves nine."

Well with that being said, I'm off to take a tro tro to run some errands, thank God it's only a few minutes ride ;).

This blog is dedicated to my fellow Copiapinos and Calderians* in diaspora :). I am referring to my friends who I traveled with or met while living in Chile. They truly made my time in Chile, infinitely more pleasurable and bareable!!! I am so grateful to God for each and every one of them and wish them nothing but the very best in all of their future endeavors. I hope we all continue to stay in touch! I really do love you all! Chau gringos :)

Copiapinos = Stephanie Schmidt, Terryl Dozier, Michael King and Nicole Pfeiffer

Calderians = Joy Meeder, Joe Heinz Jones, and Benjamin Jacob

BIG brother doing BIG things!!!

That's right MY big brother Keon McGuire (a.k.a David/Dave) recently received some GREAT news! He has got accepted on a fully funded scholarship to pursue a PhD in Higher Education at the University of Pennsylvania. The best thing about it all is that this was his first choice school, he's doing something he's passionate about, and something he's very skilled at I might add. God truly gave him the desires of his heart in this situation. I could not be more happy, even if it were something this wonderful happening for me. I know one day he will go on to be a great dean of a university or, maybe even president! May God's grace grant him continued success in all his endeavors.

This blog is dedicated to our younger brother, Jalen Howard, of whom I am very proud. He is for sure the funniest person I know and has a great heart. In the deepest and purest place in my heart I hope and know that he is growing into a fine young man that will do many great things, that will even surprise him! The future is bright young bro. Love you!!

"Obroni"

Pronounced "Oh-bro-knee" this is what many of the Class 3 girl students would chant any time they saw me. Opening mouths wide, smiling from ear to ear, and chanting broken by laughter amongst one another coupled with my own smile and waving "Good morning" pretty much made up our daily interactions.

First internal conversations consisted of some of the following: "just wave and laugh (the favorite) " "is that English?...no, can't be" "chase 'em (which I did do once)" "say something back "en Espanol"?...no, that wouldn't be nice (unless as a rebuttle to my 6th and 7th graders using their local language ;) ). After some time, I figured it was time for me to learn just what this word meant. So I went upstairs to get Ransford, a 7th grader, and we went "Class 3 girl" hunting and found one. And lo and behold the first thing she says upon seeing me is "Obroni, Obroni" followed by laughter. That's it I said to Ransford, that word, not yet knowing how to pronounce it. What does that word mean? He chuckles and tells me..."White man."

Now this wasn't the first time I had been called a "white man" but coming from such young ones, I figured this just wasn't some random person's perception of Americans, but could be a part of Ghanaian culture. The first time happened as a teacher remarked, "oh he (me) lives like a white man in America, he needs to see how black men live." Since then I've learned that being a white man means that I'm rich and that... I'm rich. Of course there are other stereotypes, like white people love to eat candy. Some people just look at me and will ask "obroni?" to someone I'm with and I just chuckle.

This made me think again of what it means to be an "outsider" and this time not because of the color of my skin as in S. America, but due to the place of my birth. Personally I don't mind being on the outside of things. Becuase in the words of author Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart), as printed in today's paper, "there are things which an observer can only see if he resists the temptation to jump into the fray and become an actor." Yet there are questions that fill my conscious, not searching to be answered, but simply to exist. Hear them...

What does it mean to be seen as an outsider among a people you may share common ancestral history with? Who decides who's out and who's in? And what if I did want "in", how could I enter? How many people, places, and things do I label as "outsiders" and why?

Yet if I never get the answer to any of these questions at least there's one I'll surely get a laugh out of hearing: "I wonder what life would be like as a white man?"

This blog is dedicated to ALL of my friends that never make me feel like an outsider, no matter what. They are my brothers and sisters in many ways truer than blood could ever have made us. So when I call them "brother" or "sister", or favs as some prefer ;), I don't take it lightly. Love you all for letting your love be known and felt across deep waters and time zones :)!!!