Fifty Cent Flip-Flops in Ghana
Carly Shenfeld is a first year student studying International Development at McGill University.
For more information about Operation Groundswell, visit www.operationgroundswell.com.

LABARANGA, GHANA — The five-hour bus ride to the village of Larabanga from Tamale in northern Ghana was one of the most gruelling experiences of my life. Since mostly poor villagers and the few tourists Ghana attracts are travelling so far up north, government busses don’t run there. Instead, a private company clearly more interested in money than safety or customer service runs one rickety old bus 4 hours up the unpaved road. Its goal is to sell as many tickets as possible with apparent disregard for the vehicle's capacity. Some seats had been sold to three different people and there were stacks of foodstuffs and bicycle parts on other seats.

My travelling companion, David, and two others squeezed into a space that could comfortably fit one butt cheek. After much yelling and shoving, I was relegated by the "bus managers" to a sack of flour in the aisle, where I tried to avoid crushing the lady on my right or being buried by an avalanche of luggage. Dust blew in our faces the entire ride, and by the end my white shirt had turned brown. Several passengers brought their chickens along for the ride and when we arrived and tried to remove our baggage from the luggage compartment, we saw that a live goat had been stowed there as well.

We were travelling to Larabanga to scout out options for Operation Groundswell, a youth-led non-profit travel organization. Grounded in the belief that anyone is capable of traveling abroad, we created trips to challenge the next generation of leaders, entrepreneurs, academics & socially-conscious minds.

The meeting with Larabanga community leaders was very surreal. The chief was a frail old man in robes and a bright-green skullcap who was lying on a mat in the street. I had been sitting beside him for 10 minutes without realizing he was anyone special, leaving me embarrassed when someone whispered that I should pay my respects. Everything had to be translated between English and two Ghanaian dialects. The Muslim elders were initially skeptical, thinking we might be trying to convert the locals to Christianity.

The village has three major problems. First and most importantly, it has no reliable source of clean water. Its three boreholes no longer function so the village women and children must walk about half an hour to the nearest pond which is also used by animals. When that source dries up in the summer, they walk even farther. A number of people have died because the community cannot afford a car to drive them to the medical clinic about 30 kilometres away. Finally, the town has only six dilapidated classrooms, into each of which they stuff about 75 children, along with infant siblings. Those not "lucky" enough to attend have to walk for an hour to the next village or do without education.

We noticed another need when a boy asked us for 5,000 cedes (about 50 cents) to buy flip-flops. In fact, almost every child was walking barefoot on the scorching, rocky ground. Eager to do a small act of kindness, we decided that on our second visit we wouldn't come empty-handed.

Before returning on the death-mobile for a second trip, we stopped at a wholesaler. Forty dollars bought 150 pairs of flip-flops, which we carted on our heads African-style, much to the amusement of the locals.

In Larabanga, Abusco, one of the village’s teachers, came up with a brilliant plan to hand out 150 tickets to barefoot children, telling them discreetly to go to the residence of Titi, a local radio DJ. That way, the right number of tickets would be distributed and we could be sure that only those in need got shoes. Unfortunately, the plan quickly unravelled.

On the way, Abusco met up with Titi, who wanted to help but didn't quite listen to Abusco’s instructions. Titi ran into the centre of the village and yelled, "Hey everybody! Go to my house! The white people are giving out free shoes!"

If you've seen "six-free-bagels day" at What a Bagel, you know that even in the West people often go crazy over free stuff. Imagine the free-stuff insanity of those who are too poor to afford 50 cents for shoes. People were slamming into each other outside Titi's door. He was literally beating them away in order to let in only two children at a time. Mothers were shoving their kids through the windows. We were stage-diving kids out the window and over the crowd because it was too dangerous to use the front door. It was sheer madness, and I still feel a little guilty for not bringing enough for everyone.

Back home, Canadians were more touched by the gesture of giving away shoes that were probably lost within weeks than they were about doing something more substantive. Operation Groundswell received several donations after people heard about the flip-flops, but had a tougher time raising funds and volunteers for the community building project this summer. Why was a silly, showy act of charity more impressive than one with a greater impact?