Photo credit Steve Omischl
Clara Hughes's Diary from The Vancouver Province
Printed on Sunday, April 20, 2008
The following thoughts are taken from a diary I kept while in Ghana with Right to Play. Thanks, Ed, for editing this!
**All photos taken by Steve Omischl. To see more about Steve go to www.toyourfeet.ca
DAY 1:
We arrive in Accra
The shock of Africa cannot be explained. My first trip to the continent was two years ago to Ethiopia. Today I return, this time to Ghana, and once again I struggle to take it all in.
DAY 2:
Accra: First day in field
Our driver navigates through the bumpy, dusty side roads and we approach the school in Madina for our first visit of the trip. The school is massive — enrolment is 4,000. As the van pulls in, children smile and wave. We play some games. My partner is now my friend and he says to me what they all want to say: “Your hair is bouncy.”
“Pardon me?”
“I said, your hair is BOUN-CY”, and he begins to jump around. All of the girls in my row turn to me, saying, “Yes, bouncy!”
At this point the ice of a Canadian winter is broken and we are all friends. Before I know it I am being grilled about my favourite English football club (I randomly choose Manchester United) and favourite player (unfortunately I don’t know any of the players).
The second school we visit is in the country and the children are shier than they were at our first stop. As part of the program, we try to explain our sports to the kids and explaining snow here is not easy. It’s obvious they don’t quite understand but still they sit patiently, watching and listening.
Those children, who are so polite and so attentive, live in extreme poverty. I feel this tear beginning deep in my heart. There is sadness but there’s also joy in knowing the Right To Play programs mean so much to these kids. This struggle will continue throughout the week but the result is a heavy dose of motivation because I know I have the voice to share these stories with Canadians.
DAY 2:
Accra and Battor
I awake not knowing where in the world I am. Literally. This happens quite often. The past month has taken me from Japan, to Cuba, and now to Africa. I’ll be in Israel next week and Spain the week after. I’m utterly confused.
It’s a non-stop day with two school visits and lots of playing. I make the mistake of wearing green cotton capris and I’m sweating profusely. The kids don’t seem to notice at the first school and we have a great time. But our second stop offers something different.
Battor is a special-needs boarding school. These are children of all ages who are mentally challenged and they are often neglected and abused in poorer countries. We say hello to the students and they laugh, coming back again and again to shake our hands. They are beautiful.
The coach is a smaller, stocky man who looks like an Olympic wrestler. I thank him, telling him how important my teachers have been and that I appreciate the kindness he shows.
DAY 3:
Tamale
We fly an hour-and-a-half to Tamale, the second-largest city in Ghana. Mud huts with grass roofs are the most common dwellings.
The north is predominantly Muslim; the south is predominantly Christian. It’s evident that life here is tough but these are extremely hard-working people, especially the women.
I see so many men lounging in the shade when we travel through these small towns. I’m shocked to see women carrying enormous loads of goods on their heads. There are many things that I can’t make sense of here and this is one of them. It will take centuries to change this attitude.
We drive a couple of hours to the town of Bolgatanga. The poverty is even more oppressive. The kids are just as wonderful.
During the long drive back, I begin talking with Kakra, one of the program directors at the Tamale office and one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. He tells me about working with an HIV/AIDS organization in Ghana and the memories of a little boy who was dying of AIDS. Kakra would see him everyday. This little boy was so brave, Kakra said, and even in his worst moments he had courage. One day he asked six-feet tall, built-like-a-linebacker Kakra, ‘Will I ever grow to be as big and strong as you?’ Kakra said he looked down at this little boy, who was weeks away from dying and said, “You are already bigger and stronger than I will ever be, my friend.”
Kakra says that work took a lot out of him and he decided to put his energy into preventing HIV. So many of the RTP workers have worked in the HIV/AIDS field and have come to RTP because this is where they feel they can protect children.
DAY 4:
Accra
The idea of a refugee camp has me both curious and afraid. The bus picks its way through Budumbura, a shanty town and I can’t believe people live like this. The kids are also different. They have an edge and a thick veneer of toughness. Who knows what they have seen? This camp has been around for
18 years and is for people who were displaced during the Liberian civil war.
We do our best to fit in and finish with explanations of our sports. How do I tell these kids about my great life as an athlete? I don’t and instead try to talk more about RTP. These programs are desperately needed in this environment but it’s a tough crowd and I wonder if our visit did any good.
I’m not going to lie. I leave confused and very, very saddened.
And then I talk to Abena from RTP head office who tells me about a girl she’s interviewed. Abena asked this girl how she felt about our visit. This little girl said she felt “happy” and that one day she wants to see Clara, the lady who came to play with her on TV, and she can say, “That’s my friend.”
© The Vancouver Province 2008
