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Patricia Hamilton
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Photo by David M. Pollock

Patricia Hamilton found joy and heartbreak in a tiny African village as a Peace Corps Volunteer. The risks were great, she learned. But the memories are golden.
By David Hunt

In 1996 in the African village of Under the Tree American Peace Corps Volunteer Patricia Hamilton was crowned Nana Okosua Gyamfi. The wood carver presented her with an intricate hand-carved wooden throne, and affixed an elaborate carved comb in her hair.

But, she soon learned, there was even more.

"I was adorned and honored with traditional tummy beads." Tummy bead embellishment is a long honored and expected tradition for women.

It was the crowning event in her two and a half - year mission to introduce reforestation techniques to the African rain forest.

The Palos Verdes nursery manager joined the Peace Corps in 1994 for two reasons; to make a change in her life and to make a point.

"I wanted to prove the strength and capabilities of older American volunteers, she said. "And I wasn't about to give up."

It was more difficult than she ever imagined. In fact, of the 64 Americans who went to the West African nation of Ghana with the Peace Corps in 1994, 22 were unable to handle the conditions for numerous reasons and returned home early. But Hamilton, as stubborn as she was committed, extended her stay, eventually remaining in the tiny village for nearly three years.

"I was never tempted to leave," she said.

Compared to her Peninsula home, Hamilton's African residence was rudimentary.

"They made their houses from mud and leaves, the floors were dirt," she said. "At first I didn't have a shower, bathtub, toilet, or any type of communication. I had no television, no car, no refrigerator, no air conditioning, no telephone and the only way I could cook was with butane." "My meals were incredibly simple."

For two and a half years Hamilton lived without the basics of Western society. She took cold bucket baths, shopped in outdoor markets, and carried water from the village water well. She dressed simply with respect for the local dress codes.

The culture shock wasn't entirely unexpected. Hamilton is a lifelong traveler, having visited 65 countries on five continents before she joined the Peace Corps.

When she told her four grown children of her plan to go to Africa, they weren't at all surprised by the decision.

Over the years, Hamilton has seen much of the developing world and has come to appreciate a vast diversity of cultures.

"You cannot expect other people to have the same set of values and lifestyle that you have," she said. "The Peace Corps reinforced that. You learn real quickly in the Peace Corps that you are the outsider. You don't interfere with their politics or religion. Volunteers are there to be helpful and supportive."

Under Hamilton's guidance, the villagers learned the value of planting exotic trees, such as teak and mahogany that are sought-after in Europe and they learned to plant seedlings for every tree they removed from the forest. By the end of her stay, Hamilton had overseen the planting of 27,000 seedlings and had planted many trees along the ceremonial path to the ancestral burial grounds. Patricia's tree embellishment was designed to honor the village forefathers.

She also introduced the concepts of commerce and small business enterprise to the village, working with a half dozen women to create beautiful hand-made quilts. The business continues to thrive.

For all the hardship of her time in Ghana, Hamilton found a sense of purpose, and a deep connection with the people of Under the Tree.

"The memories are golden," she said. "I had one young lady in the village who spoke English who called me Mama Pat. Her name was Gifty and she was my right arm. We bonded. It was a sweet relationship. Gifty would come to me and ask me about American men, dating, boys, birth giving, mothering and the normal things that a girl is curious about. We cried in each other's arms when I left."

Although the village was small, with just about 200 inhabitants, it was not without it's dangers. Hamilton's unique position as a single woman created a stir that complicated her work - and put her at risk.

"Most of them liked me, but a few had trouble because I was so independent. That was startling to them," she said. "My first day there the headmaster in the village said, 'How do you do it without a man." That caught me off guard. I thought it was quite a rude question."

But the question, and the cultural gap it represented, were very genuine and very serious. Hamilton's obvious ability to succeed without a man threatened the established order, which was strictly patriarchal.

"The men were afraid I might influence their women to be more independent," she said.

It wasn't just the men who resented her presence.

"Right away one of the ladies in the village was rather jealous of my few possessions and the lady decided to commission the Juju priest to deal with me and my material items " Hamilton said.

For days the priest, painted white, dressed in shredded banana leaves and adorned in small sea shells danced in front of Hamilton's house. The ritual, if it was designed to rid the village of Hamilton, failed.

"Their religion, Juju, was my biggest problem while I was there," she said. "Traditionally in that village several times a year at night they would go on a hunt for body parts, plants and insects that would be used for potions in their ceremonies. Because of their seriousness I developed the habit of never going out after dark."

She also took steps to avoid prepared foods.

"They're very effective with poison in the country, as are most people in west African countries," Hamilton said. "I was cautious about accepting food, and didn't drink water without boiling it for at least 20 minutes."

Hamilton's caution was well considered. Although she was be-friended by a popular village family, she lived alone and had nowhere close to go in case of trouble. There was, she discovered, little warning when trouble came.

"One lady in the village, who wanted everything I owned, went to the military police and said I stole' everything I had from her and she wanted it back," Hamilton said. "The soldiers came to my house with their guns and threatened to take me to jail. I tried reasoning. I explained to the sergeant that it might be a good idea for him to see that the things in my house were American made, that the house I was in was not registered to her and that I had personally checked on her legal background and found she had a considerable list of criminal offenses."

But the military police seemed unimpressed by Hamilton's arguments and she feared that they would arrest her and haul her off to prison and an uncertain future. When suddenly a cloudburst unleashed torrents of water on the village. Sensing a momentary distraction, Hamilton turned on her heels and ran, eventually finding refuge at the home of the village midwife. Village elders came to her aid, keeping her at the village Palace for a week until the situation calmed down.

In the end, the belongings she had brought from the U.S., including a radio, a CD player, some books on tape, and her garden boots were stolen from her house.

But Hamilton found more to worry about than the loss of a few possessions. She was saddened, nearly beyond words, over the plight of many women in the village.

"At night I could hear women crying, and screaming" she said. I learned later that some of the husbands were beating their wives and it broke my heart because I wanted to help those women."

But Peace Corps rules strictly forbid volunteers from interfering in local customs. Her young friend, Gifty, also advised her to stay out of family conflicts.

"She asked me not to interfere because it would be dangerous.The risk would be too great," Hamilton said.

Aside from the dangers of cultural conflicts, Hamilton faced health risks in the isolated village, where malaria, cholera, AIDS and poisonous spider bites were rampant.

"I asked one of the village ladies if I could accompany her to her doctors appointment. The doctor sat on bench under a tree. That was his office. He gave her a prescription and she went to another man under a different tree and that was the pharmacist. He gave her some crushed herbs and she was instructed to make a tea from it." The perscription eventually led Hamilton to cultivate a prized herbal remedy in her tree nursery. The herbal plant was later given to a visiting Canadian pharmacutical research laboratory.

"The remedies were so few, that people just died," she said. "During the middle of the night, if I heard hammer pounding, I knew they were making a casket; that was a very prevalent sound."

Sanitary conditions were poor because open sewers ran through the village.

"You're constantly walking over sewage, and it contributes to the stench in the village." The resident dump was right in the village proper and insects and rodents fed on it." "However, in time, the decomposed trash made rich soil for my tree seedlings."

Back home in The Gardens of Palos Verdes, Hamilton seems like the last person you'd expect to find running a reforestation project in an African village. She has a proper, graceful air that hints of sophistication and refinement.

On a bench in her quiet garden is this message: "I come to this garden to find myself, it has become so easy to get lost in this world."

Hamilton may have traveled the world, but it's certain she's never been lost in it. Still, she was pleased to be home.

"I cried the minute I walked in the door," she said. I couldn't believe I was home. I kicked off my shoes and enjoyed every inch of my wall to wall carpet."

On her return to America she found it would take months to acclimate herself to the pleasures and pace of Southern California.

"When you come back into this country, you are overwhelmed. There are car and ship horns, train whistles, flashing lights, street lights, and colossal crowds.

Hamilton's daughter stayed with her for the first week after she returned home.

"I was afraid of choices she explained. The grocery store offered so many selections that it confused me. I was afraid to drive and freeways terrified me."

There were joys as well.

Simple beauties took on new meaning: Instant transportation, favorite foods and great means of communication. Cold beverages from a refrigerator, hot-aromatic bubble baths, chocolate bars, microwave ovens and sufficient light for reading.

Hamilton's thoughts are never far from the village of Under the Tree. She has writen a children's book based on a mythical experience with the village children and an adult volunteer guide. The quilt business has given her an opportunity to remain in contact with the women in the village.

"I gained a family," she said. "They are forever engraved in my heart."

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