chapter 13: hitting the halfway point on a high

moving somewhere as completely and bewilderingly different as ghana is one long roller coaster ride. there have been plenty of ups and downs, but the time has been flying by as of late. i recently celebrated my centennial in ghana - 100 days.

as i write this, i'm off on vacation for a couple weeks, and before i get back to work, i'll have hit the official halfway mark of this 248 day journey. to me, that sounds amazing, considering there have been days i thought would never end, that made me feel like packing it in and going home.

i'll be heading to accra to meet tristin today, who's visiting from home for a couple weeks. i can't wait. i can't wait for a familiar face that i can communicate with full bore. i won't have to use half-english phrases like "i'm coming" instead of "i'll be right back". explaining what you just said to someone who doesn't understand gets exhausting.

we'll celebrate tristin's birthday on saturday. on sunday, we'll cheer on the ghana black stars at the first game of the african cup of nations football championships. i've always wanted to be at a game among fans who live and breathe the sport, and they don't come much more passionate than ghanaians. on monday, we'll start a two week beach tour along the coast in the western region. then it's off to kakum national park for a night or two of camping on the treetops. then a few days in kumasi, where tristin will be besieged by my drooling male colleagues who have been driving me crazy asking when their new wife will be coming. it's making me laugh just imagining it.

as difficult as things have been at times, work has been really busy and really productive lately. and i'm starting to see real tangible signs of success.

my young intern/protege muftaw, who i've been working with a lot, completed his first feature story yesterday. (listen to it here: http://jhr.ca/fieldnotes/index.php?view=section&iid=9447&sid=72) he's a bright young guy from kumasi's muslim community. he literally comes from the most unfortunate, poorest upbringing i've ever seen. the literacy rate in his community is 10%. most people live on less than a dollar a day. both his parents are dead. he lives in a tiny room in a slum, which rents for about three dollars a month.

but despite that, he's gotten his education, he's articulate, ambitious and passionate about journalism. he has no formal training, but makes up for it with lots of ideas and energy, and he soaks up knowledge like a sponge. we've been doing human rights related stories every day. i've seen him grow by leaps and bounds, and it's been so gratifying. just the other day, the news editor asked him to put together a demo tape. which means he's considering hiring him and actually paying him.

back in september, when i met my fellow journalism trainers and the jhr head office people in toronto, they told us not to expect too much. we decided if we could do one really good story or open one reporter's eyes to the importance of human rights, we'd be satisfied. but theory is one thing, and dealing with reality another. as with most people, i am my own harshest critic, and there have been some dispiriting days.

but without beating my own drum too much, helping one young guy fight his way up from the bottom makes it all worthwhile.