On the move

I leave today, to come back to Canada for two months. There has been much to do in preparation for this, not the least of which was finishing marking scripts. But I finished those yesterday morning. I also have to pack up all my belongings and shift everything over to storage where they will live for the two months. When I return at the beginning of August with Anna-Marie and our dog, Chai, we will be moving into a big fat house.

I was happy to stay on campus for the first five months while I started to get to know and understand the country. And part of me would be happy to continue to stay here. It is relatively quiet (but we are surrounded by students after all) and very green which, I'm sure, means less dusty during the dry season than many neighbourhoods I have been through. In January I was dusting surfaces in my office and rooms daily.

But housing on campus is a hot commodity and after struggling for two months to secure something I finally relented and started shopping off campus. Even this was difficult. The university has a housing office, for both on and off campus. And the staff there are tasked with sourcing apartments and housing off campus. But getting things organized here can be a challenge. For the first two weeks of February we performed a dance of missed appointments before I got the keys to the bungalow.

And after looking at a mixed bag of houses, I felt like Goldilocks (or worse, a prima donna foreigner): houses were too far, too noisy, too expensive, too falling apart, too still being built (with no real guarantee they would ever be finished), too lacking in water (as in had a toilet, but no sink, shower, or tub and wasn't connected to a municipal water supply), too small, or too big. Finally, I settled on too big. And a little further away than I would like, but manageable.

To live close to the university means either renting a house in dollars or renting very little house at all. Landlords that charge in dollars cater to rich ex-pats working for multinationals and NGOs, who clearly make more money than I do, when the monthly rent is more than my entire take-home pay. Dollar houses were never real contenders. However, the house with no water was. To give you a taste of what makes the grade after living here for five months:

Location, location, location. This charming little fixer-upper was within walking, or better, biking distance of the campus and a walk to and cab ride from one of the 'western' malls in the city — catering to foreigners these are the source of cheese, olives, chips, pizza flour, papadums, rice paper, etc. But it also had no water supply, and only a toilet and kitchen sink. Which makes sense when you consider there is no water.

The solution, to avoid bringing in carboys by cab, is to install what is called a polytank (the roof-top thing that blew a pipe in a previous blog entry). Then a truck comes and pumps the tank full. It turns out that most houses in Greater Accra operate this way, even those that are in neighbourhoods with water lines — in part, because the water lines are unreliable. And by either method the water is not potable.

The university was prepared to install the water tank and a shower and a bathroom sink and clean and repair and paint and even clean up the rusting scrap metal from the 'yard'. The second best feature of this house was the price. In fact, location and price were the only features. But I could afford more, so we pressed on.

After a second look at the house above we looked at two more. Both were too far to walk or bike to the campus or the mall, but I had been prepared for this all along. The second one had a good yard.

No, honest. This is a good yard.

I liked where it was. There were lots of little shops on the street and two mosques within sight. But the house was right on the street, and it was a busy one. Also, the place was in very sad shape. The living room had a Teutonic feel to it, complete with water damage and mold, just like in a real castle.

I also learned that, unlike in Canada, landlords here are not saddled with any sense that cleaning the property might help rent it. This saves much time and trouble.

This is a horizontal row of little jalousie windows that open onto a central hall. Rooms on both sides of the hall have larger jalousie windows opening onto the outside so the whole house may benefit from any cross breeze. Above the window is one of many giant cobwebs.

There are other oddities about renting in Ghana. Most rentals are for two years, many others for one year. But to rent you must pay the full one or two years rent up front. This is a real catch 22. It means that many people can never move, when you would have to save up three or four or six months wages to pay down. This is especially hard if you have been living for two years without paying rent out on a monthly bases, but not saving any money.

It also means that landlords are almost by definition absent. Once the money is handed over you probably will not see the person again until the one or two years is up. Especially when something goes wrong in the house. It is a given here that house repairs, even major ones like replacing a roof, are the responsibility of the tenant.

And in defense of the landlords, if a tenant has paid months in advance, there is less incentive to just pick up and move into the house of an extended family member when space comes available. This in the past has been a major problem and was the motivation for the cash up front policy.

On to the house I've rented.

Still further from campus and the mall, and more expensive, but quiet and secure, newly renovated and modern, attractive and large. Too large really, with four bedrooms, three bathrooms and garage. Friends can come and visit and they can bring their own car from Canada. 

From the front porch overlooking the okra patch and the caretaker's house

The house is a compromise. On the one hand, it would be good to live as Ghanaian as possible. On the other hand, I recognize that doesn't mean completely Ghanaian. My driver, Mr Larteh, has three children sleeping in a hall, another two in the dining room, and shares his bathroom with another family. I joked that if I took the place I would give him one of the bathrooms.

The master bedroom with jalousie windows; all the bedrooms have built in wardrobes

Without hot water, the advantage of a bathtub may be minimal, but a few kettles of boiling water will make for a tepid bath to soak in. This was only the second tub I had seen in my search, and was not a deciding factor. But in the absence of a swimming pool...

The master bath with construction debris

And what is called a 'western' style kitchen. I think that means it has cupboards. One place I looked at, still under construction, had no sink, counters, or cupboards in the kitchen. When I asked what the counter and cupboards would look like the builder said he would only install a sink.

The taps will be installed; I have a fridge and a two element cooktop

The plan is that the remaining few things to do will be completed before we arrive at the beginning of August. This is also very typical, an almost completed house with a landlord waiting for a shot of rent money to finish off the work. Landscaping and a polytank have even been mentioned. The front yard is entirely planted with okra and corn. The caretaker's house is occupied until we move in, and the guy is taking advantage of having land to grow a cash crop. I'm not sure if harvest is before August 1.

And now, off to Canada.