Last.

Never published a last blog. Everything went fine towards the end, it was sad leaving my family and everything. Made it to Accra, where I lost my phone in the hotel room, to London, to New York. Had a 7 or 8 hour layover in New York. Rode around on the airport train, drank coffee to kill time. By the time I got in line to get to my terminal, to go through security checks and all, the line was out the door. Five minutes after I got in line, it was out the door and down the sidewalk. A mess. Had to leave my swiss army knife, thought I lost my passport, made it into the terminal. Horrible plane ride, one of the worst I've ever taken. But got back to Portland in one piece, on exhausted legs. Mom, Cas and Krist were waiting for me with flowers and a sign. So amazing to see them again. We got my luggage, drove home. Can't explain the relief of sleeping in a bed after 3 days of traveling on planes, not sleeping.

To fast forward, about 3 days after I got back, I started feeling sick. Fever and chills, headache, nausea. I wanted it to be a flu. We went to the hospital on sunday. It was malaria. I don't remember much from the hospital. Maybe a week total. I was there for 3 weeks. The malaria led to acute respiratory failure (my lungs filled with fluid) and septic shock or failure or something (my entire body started to shut down). I had to be on a rotating bed, had a bunch of blood in and out of me (went through 9, then 7, then 5 bags in 3 days... keep donating blood, people!), had chest tubes inserted into my back, through my ribs and into my lungs to drain the fluid, had two tracheostomies (resulting in a hole in my throat going to my lungs so I could breathe with a respirator or some machine that helped me breathe. I still have the wound) I didn't walk for a few weeks, I'm still recovering my strength, and I was mute for a while, but I'm talking again now. Still working at getting my regular voice back.

I'm recovering. I'm amazed by how much I've gotten back already. I'm hanging out with friends again, moving around, talking almost normally, typing... I didn't think it'd all come back this quickly.

Ghana was an amazing trip. It's a bit bittersweet, thinking about it now, after all that's happened, but I still look back at it fondly. I have a lot of good memories from the country and I definitely plan on going back someday.

I just never want to get malaria again.

Today is...
cleaning, cause I finally can.
making plans to hang out.
cassie coming home.
friday.

By the way.

That last blog, as I'm sure you deduced from the blog itself, was posted not on 23 April, but rather last week. Blogger decided to shake things up a bit, knowing I wouldn't able to figure out how to fix the date without copying and pasting the whole blog, which seemed much to time consuming and unnecessary. Blogger: 1, Alyssa: 0. It was posted last week. Sorry for the confusion.

I need to do laundry. Desperately. Nearly all of my clothes are dirty right now, so I find myself sniff-testing various pieces of previously-worn clothing every time I assemble an outfit. I do that back home too, so this shouldn't alarm you in any Africa-specific way. But yeah. Washing. Hopefully will get around to that tomorrow morning.

It was hot today. Ridiculously hot, even on Ghanaian standards. I actually walked all the way home, 20 minutes, in the heat of the day, simply to take a shower. It felt amazing. The water even became hot for a minute or so, I mean really hot, which never happens in my shower and demonstrates that today has honestly been an anomaly, heat-wise, the fact that the water became that hot just sitting in a plastic pipe buried under the ground. I think I saw someone frying yam on the sidewalk earlier. Maybe not, but I swear, I wouldn't be surprised if I did.

My phone is currently MIA. Well, not really, but sort of, in the sense that I don't have it. Coming back from Obawale, it must have slipped out of my pocket in one of the tros, because by the time I got to Kpong, it was gone. I fretted about it for a few minutes, had the frustratingly overwhelming urge to call people and tell them about it, took a walk, then decided to forget about it and let it work itself out. Things tend to do that here. These people, they're so honest, it's unbelievable. Anyway, when I got back to Ho yesterday, I had my Ghanaian husband, Dan, call it from his phone. Some guy answered, told Dan that he'd found it in the tro and called a number on it, which happened, miraculously, to be Marcus's number. He's going to meet up with Marcus and give him the phone. He probably already has. I need to call it soon and thank Marcus for picking it up. This means that I have to travel three hours, maybe four if the tros take a while to fill up. Think of a place that's four hours away. Now, imagine going there, on your own, pressed against the side of a van modified to seat 15 people but not to provide them with air con, just to pick up your phone. So, as it might be a few weeks before I can make or recieve calls from you guys, I need your emails more than ever. It's now my only form of contact with everyone, not counting Facebook because Facebook doesn't count. So. Medekuku, please, email me. I promise you'll get one back, one filled with my thoughts and fears and doubts, with detailed anecdotes and breaking news from Ho. I need people to talk to, even if it's only over the internet. I know that probably sounds sad, but it's not, really, I still just haven't adjusted to Ghana's lack of people who will tell me about their problems and listen to me gripe about mine. I think that would perhaps take a few years.

I'm still reading a lot. Got through Who Moved My Cheese, For One More Day, Ishmael, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, The Gold Coast. All fantastic books. I'm now working on A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Totally lives up to it's title. Incredible read. Dave Eggers has skyrocketed his way up my list of favourite authors, maybe to the 4th or 5th position. Which is saying a lot, considering I haven't even finished the book yet. If you haven't read it, read it. If you have, isn't it amazing?

Well, off to get some water. Have I mentioned that it is stiflingly hot today? It is.

Today is...
a sunday.
the 17th of may.
hot.

Yet Again.

It's been ages since I last posted. Sorry, all.

Things are going well here, with 6 weeks to go, I'm thinking of home and family and friends and summer and school a lot. I got a job as a bartender at a local spot for a few days, but that was a bit too much. 12 hours of work, 5 days a week for about a buck 50 a day... Yeah. Now I'm basically hanging out with my host family, helping them out now that school is back in session, doing a bit of travel now and then.

Let's see. Highlights.

Walking to Togo. Getting to weave a little Kente. Returning to the total and utter peace that is Obawale. Sharpening (rather, developing) my pool skills at the only pool table in town, which happens to be located on a rooftop with a view of the city. Eating grasscutter. (Look it up if you don't know what it is. Believe me, it'll be worth it.) Getting a free tro ride to Odumase because the guy had to drop some other guy up in the hills and declared that it was "Excursion Day!". Eating shrimp. Whole. Watching a cat catch a lizard mid-jump, then proceed to gnaw on it in front of my as I attempted to eat my lunch. Fireflies in the farmland of Obawale. Eating rice out of a bag by biting off a corner of the bag and squeezing bite-sized portions in my mouth, something I intend to continue doing when I get back to the States. Book swaps. Massive amounts of reading. Clear, turquoise skies spotted with emourmous white clouds, the 3D kind that you normally only see from airplanes. Learning a few new Ewe words, as well as a few things in Krobo. The appalled looks people give me when I show them my hair after two weeks of not being washed, the fact that it grows wax at the roots for some incomprehensible reason. Obtaining permission from a watchman to climb a cell phone tower. A birdseye view of Obawale and the mountains, of red roads disappearing into dense forests, of kids playing football at a local school, of women cooking food outdoors, of tros speeding off to unknown destinations. Macaroni and cheese. Inside-out burgers. Grilled corn. Hermaphrodite pawpaw trees. The ever unpredictable Ghana.

My computer charger is spoiled. I don't mind really, but it means I don't get on the internet as often as I used to. No more free internet. No more downloading songs. No more charging my ipod. It sucks a little, but I don't have that much time left here, so it's not that big of an issue. I can still get in touch with all of you through the internet cafes and my phone, so call me or send an email my way :)

I miss you all, and I miss home. I'm having a blast here, but I really am looking forward to my return. See you all in 6 weeks.

Today is...
waking up to the sound of yelling ghanaians.
leaving early for koforidua.
grocery shopping with marcus.
joy.

Coffee, Creativity and the Good Earth.

I realised after speaking to Dad the other day that it’s been almost two months since my last post. Figured it was time to get on the ball and let everyone know what’s been going on.

I’ve been having an amazing time. It took a few months and a lot of changes to get to this point, but the time and effort has been more than worth it. I started teaching art classes at God’s Divine Academy, out by the stadium (if you have a map :), about a month ago. I teach three classes (the equivalent of first, second and third grade) for one hour each every weekday. It’s so much fun and I finally feel like I have a purpose here, like I’m doing something useful and productive. The kids are young, but intelligent. The biggest problems I’ve encountered at the school are beating and a lack of creativity. The teachers beat the kids, so the kids are afraid of doing things wrong. As a result, they try so hard to do everything right that they fail to utilise their imagination and natural abilities. Not all of them, but many of them. It’s a bit sad. So I’m trying to reverse the damage the teachers have done by planning imaginative drawing projects and creativity-stimulating activities, as well as by encouraging them to take pride in their own work, in their own style. It’s a challenge, but that’s really what I desperately needed here.

I’ve been hanging out with Lisa, Nathi, Steffi and Chelsea, an American volunteer from Connecticut who’s teaching at Paradise Nursery, which my host mother’s godmother owns and runs. As of today though, all of them are traveling. Lisa and Nathi left about a week ago and will be back in about a month. Chelsea and Steff left today. Chelsea will be back in two weeks, Steff in three. They’re all leaving permanently within a week of their return to Ho. It’s so sad. They’re really the only people I hang out with anymore and in a month, they’ll all be gone. At least they’ll be coming back for a little while, but I’ll miss them so much. Already do.

Two new volunteers are scheduled to arrive in March, which will be interesting. I think they’re both from Germany.

I got all of your packages! They’re so amazing. I got Dad’s package first, which was so nice. The Christmas tree has since fallen apart and the sweets are mostly gone (except for the cocoa), but the scent diffuser is sitting on my desk, the USB drive is now loaded with photos and I’ve been reading A Thousand Splendid Suns like a madwoman. Such an incredible book. The honey sticks nearly made me cry. I remember going to the Saturday market in Portland and seeing them at a vendor, buying some for Cas and I to share. They always remind me of the County Fair and of summer. The Kurt Cobain book is beautiful. That’s one of very few books that I plan on bringing back. That, Maus, my crossword books and whatever I happen to be reading when I leave. And the card... you guys are so sweet. Thank you so so much for putting so much thought into everything.

Mom, I can’t even describe how much your package means to me. I’ve been making so much coffee with my French press and my amazing coffee. For Steff’s birthday, I woke up at 5, made English Muffins, a fruit salad and coffee and took everything over to her house in a box. The M&Ms were delicious. I haven’t had the cocoa yet, but it smells like the holidays. I had my first cup of the tea you sent me this morning. Good Earth Original. I took one whiff of it and started bawling. Countless nights of relaxing at our old house, sipping Good Earth and lounging around the house. I have 16 tea bags and 16 weeks left, so I plan on drinking one cup a week. A short, weekly moment of zen and remembrance (I think I’ll need the tissues). I love the Oliver Sacks book. Such strange stories, but so intriguing. And the comics! Steff, Chels and I sat around in her room for at least an hour just passing the pages around, reading each strip. Nathi will be so happy when he gets back and finds them. I plan on giving them to him as a going away present. He loves comics. I’ve been slowly making my way through the Time magazines. I’m so happy you sent so many! I think they’ll last me for a while. I wore the Bachelor shirt the other day. Haha I love the thought that it came from such a cold place. Your card is taped to my wall. I keep them all there, so when I get lonely, I can read them and remember that physical separation doesn’t mean that I’m alone. Everything is just perfect, Mom. Thank you thank you thank you. I love you so much.

On the agenda: a trip to Accra with AFS, possibly a trip to Kumasi to visit Lisa, Nathi and my host father, making letter stamps for my classes, buying fabric so I can make a quilt with each of my classes, a trip to the market to buy beads.

I can’t believe I only have 16 weeks left. And that I’ve been here for 6 months.

I love you all, miss you all.

By the way, I’m a graduate! I wonder how many people find that out in Ghana, over the phone, from their dad. Life is strange.

Today is...
a temporary goodbye to chelsea and steff.
resisting worry and stress, for the better.
drawing bottles.
unwinding.

Catching up.

So it’s been a very long time since I’ve written a detailed blog. I thought I’d take the time on this lazy Sunday morning to create one. I suppose I’ll start at the 21st, the start of my new journal, and continue from there. These entries are going to be a bit raw, as I’m going to copy them nearly directly from my journal.

21.12.08.
I know this is a terrible start to the first journal entry of my new journal, but I want to go home.
I woke up this morning and I feel terrible and I’d give anything to be waking up at Mom’s house. To pass into the main room, glancing at the newspaper sitting on the table before entering the kitchen and saying a sleepy Good morning to Mom, then grabbing a cup of hot coffee and sitting down at the table to the comics and a copy of the crossword. To sit with Mom and drink coffee and do my crossword and talk. To get dressed and go out on a walk with Mom and flash, all the way to the little French bakery in downtown Lake Oswego. To get more coffee and sit outside with Flash at our feet, cradling our mugs with both hands to ward off the cold.

To be waking up a Dad’s house. To be able to walk downstairs and pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit down in front of the TV to half-watch some stupid morning television show with Cas and Sarah. To hear Dad and Carrie say Morning Lys from the kitchen table, from behind their laptops. To be able to say It’s nice out, let’s go for a walk. To be able to walk 10 minutes to see the water. To have to bundle up to go outside. To pass by stores and houses decked out in Christmas cheer. To be able to wander off the path into the crunchy white snow. To feel the cold air turning my ears red.

Abbie wrote a blog saying that she isn’t sure if she’s just pretending to be happy or if she truly is. That there’s a void in her life and she’s not sure what’s supposed to fill it.
I feel the same void in my own life, but I know now that that void will always be there. It’s never possible to have all the people you love with you at the same time. I’ll always miss someone or something or someplace and there’s nothing I can do about it. That void will always exist.
Beck said yesterday that a few months ago, she wanted to go back home for a little while just to visit, then come back. That now, she has no desire to do so.
I guess where she was is where I am right now. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just being away for Christmas.

The house is different this morning. My host dad must have come back because the old table cloth is gone, we have new placemats and good bread and ‘party biscuits’ and the fridge and the freezer are full.

I want to go home.
But instead, I’m going to do my laundry in the bathhouse, get dressed and walk to the compound to chill with the Germans and get my hair done.
Maybe Abbie’s right. Maybe we are just pretending that we’re happy. But when it’s all you can do, it’s better than allowing yourself to sink into sadness.

Laundry’s done and hung. I’m dressed and packed. Time to head off.
Haven’t seen my host mom this morning.
She’s at the salon.

Walked to the compound, talked with Stephanie, Katie, Lisa and Nathi for a while, then went to Sena’s to help Lisa and Nathi do laundry. When we finished washing and hanging the clothes and watching the kids climb the palm trees to get coconuts, Lisa started my dreads while Nathi showered. Then Nathi took over while Lisa showered. Now no one’s working on them because they’re both making coffee. I guess their parents sent them real coffee. They offered to share some.

Coffee was amazing. Don’t think I’ll ever be able to drink Nescafe again. Went out with Scams, then with Katie. Now I have 40 dreads.

22.12.08.
Today is the eve of the eve of Christmas Eve. My host mom hasn’t noticed my dreads yet. I don’t know how.
We’re going to the seamstress at 9. I’m going to meet Scams at noon at the White House. Our last lunch together till we meet again.
After meeting Scams, I need to go to the shopping centre to get Christmas gifts for my family. As for what, I guess I’ll know when I see it.
Then I’ll go get my hair finished, then Katie’s last night out.

Talked to Mom last night. It was incredible to hear her voice again. I told her about my dreads and she talked about the snow. I didn’t want to hang up. But I’ll email her today.

I made a list of supplies we (the Germans and I) will need for our Christmas Eve meal of salad, pasta and fruit salad with ice cream. We’re going to go buy it all, then split the cost. It’ll be amazing.

Sena told Lisa, Nathi and I that there’s an old lady who walks around the market with a bowl of coffee beans on her head. I’ll look for her on Wednesday.

I need to shower and dress.

Today was amazing. I hated saying bye to Scams, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I know I’ll see her again someday, so it’s not really goodbye.
I’m getting two outfits sewn. One of my own design with the fabric I bought at the market and a skirt and top that my host mom chose with the fabric my host dad picked up for me for Christmas. Cool :)
I went to the shopping centre. Bought sweets for the kids, a toaster for the family.
I found a drum that I love for 50 cedis. The same size as Nathi’s, same basic design, but 30 cedis cheaper. Score.
I helped Eva make fufu, then ate the fufu.
I went out with everyone for Katie’s birthday.
I walked around with my toaster all night.

23.12.08.
I have to pee.
It’s 8:30. I forgot that we’re making breakfast. I already ate bread.
Oh well. After shopping and cooking and everything, I think I’ll be hungry again.
Aight.
I’m heading out.

I forgot to write about my police escort last night. We were walking home from Orz in a big group, then I split off at the junction to go to my house. I had gone about 20 feet when Gilles called me. I turned around and there was a police officer. Gilles came up to me and said the officer had said it wasn’t safe in the area I was walking through, that they’d made an arrest in the area earlier in the day. I said Okay and he walked me home. He even carried my toaster. It was strange but nice. I felt very safe.
It’s a quarter past nine and Lisa and Nathi haven’t shown up yet. Steff’s at the hospital and Katie’s writing out hotel prices and restaurants and such for when Lisa and Nathi go to the North.
I feel bad.
No one is here and she’s leaving at 12.
Lisa and Nathi arrived. We went out and bought fruit and supplies for making bruschetta. I bought my drum. It’s so nice.
Katie and I bought pineapple, these really good oat, nut and honey balls, toffee and my drum and Lisa and Nathi picked up bread and tomatoes and onions and garlic.
We went back to Sena’s and cooked bruschetta on the stovetop. It was so delicious and the kitchen smelled wonderfully of an Italian restaurant because of the olive oil. Yum.
After breakfast/brunch, we sat around at the compound for a while. Now we need to head off or else Katie will be late.

We went shopping.
We bought Snickers bars and ate them in the parking lot.
We worked on my dreads for hours on end.
We talked about the size difference between African and Asian elephants.
We talked about funny German phrases.
Nathi played guitar.
Lisa wrote out a German lesson for me.
My dreadlocks are done.
I can’t imagine a better day.

24.12.08.
I have to show my family my dreads today. This is not going to be fun.

Well.
That was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I’m glad my uncle was here to say They’re nice before my host mom could judge them otherwise. She asked me if she liked it to and I said I think you do. She smiled and we talked about them for a while and I got her to laugh a few times.
I’m really surprised by how well that went. I’m going to the White House around 11 to meet Lisa and Nathi and to use the internet.
Now I’m heating water for a bath because it’s cold.

I met with Lisa and Nathi.
Bought plantain chips and popcorn for the kids.
Played monopoly with Mike, Ashley, Depac and Kwasi.
Went to the market with Lisa, Nathi and Stephanie, bought food for our meal. We made salad, pasta with pasta sauce, plus we had cheese and wine. It was incredible.
I learned the German words for the different meals, which are hilarious. My favourite is their word for dessert, which, translated literally, means after table food.
We were all so full after the meal that we decided to save dessert for tomorrow morning before Lisa and Nathi leave for Accra.
Lisa and I wanted to get something to drink, so we decided to go the White House for a coke and some quality Ghanaian music.
I went ahead because Nathi and Steff wanted to call their parents. I ended up waiting an hour and a half before they showed up. It was fun though. We were all tired and full, so we just sat around and talked about language for 2 1/2 hours. The German word for the power going off is the same as the German word for balding. I’m falling in love with the German language. I really am.
When we paid, we were shocked to see that it was midnight. The time flew by.
I took a taxi home.
When I got to my room, I noticed a present sitting on my bed.
It’s from my family.
On the front is a note that says My dear, this is just a token for your x-mas. Sweetie the whole family loves you.
I read it and started crying.
I’m so happy right now, I can’t put it into words.

25.12.08.
Merry Christmas!
I got up at 7 and brought out my gifts for the family. They loved them.
My host mom opened the toaster and couldn’t speak. She just kept making noises.
I tested it and the kids loved the toast. I did too :) I missed toast.
I’m thrilled that everything was so well-received.
They gave me a few gifts as well. A shirt, some cheetah-print underwear, some earrings, a woven belt, a “blueberry muffin” (it had like 3 dried blueberries in it) and a giant Christmas card. Very sweet.
They’re heading out to church at 8, Steff and I are making breakfast at 9, then we’re meeting Lisa and Nathi for fruit salad at 11.
I love the holidays.

Ah.
Nothing like the sound of gospel music accompanied by the sound of a goat being slaughtered.

I’m back from Lisa and Nathi’s for some lunch and some down time with the fam. We had fruit salad made of bananas, starfruit and Fanmilk ice cream, then we had there gingerbread cookie/cake things that they brought from Germany. So tasty.
I picked up my drum and my laptop from their house and walked back home. I stopped at the White House to get some internet time, but the cafe was closed for Christmas, so no internet.

My shoulders hurt from carrying my drum.
A police officer proposed to me today and some guy called me sweetie and tried to follow me home. It doesn’t feel like Christmas, but whatever.

I decided to take a nap after lunch. It’s 5:30.
I feel rested.

I had a really fun night. After dinner I went out with Steff and Patricia, her host sister. We went to White House and ended up meeting up with Ben, Yiru and a really nice Peace Corps volunteer named Julie.
I got to talk with Mom, Cas and Dad, which was great.
I split a box of Pure Heaven (pineapple, coconut and milk) with Steff, which was amazing.
I ran into Depac and Ashley on my way home and we talked for a little while about Cape Coast, as they’re going there for the weekend.
I got home and my family was awake, so we talked about my plans for tomorrow (which involve having breakfast with Steff, washing her hair, then going out with the volunteers again at night.) then bathed, changed and went to my room. Now I’m sitting at my desk listening to Secondhand Serenade. I got a call from Cyril and a text from Boris saying Merry Christmas. Now it’s time for some shuteye.

26.12.08.
Back to watching the news.
I made toast :)
Oh, how I missed toast.

Last night, when I was waiting for Steff and Patricia to show up at the White House, I was talking to Dad and this guy just came and sat next to me. I told Dad to hold on, then put the phone down, turned to the guy and said, I’m sorry, I’m waiting for people. Those seats are taken. The guy didn’t budge. He just sat there. He mumbled something and I repeated what I said. This conversation continued for about a minute before I just said, If you don’t move, I’m going to.
He didn’t, so I did.
I’m getting sick of people sitting next to me without even asking.

Tidied up my room a bit. I think I’ll go sweep my room once the news is over.
I need to take a bath.

Joel’s driving me insane. He’s looking for crayons and keeps saying, Red yellow green. Red yellow green. Red yellow green.
Over and over.
Now he’s found red and yellow and has moved on to, Green brown. Green brown. Green brown.

Sweet kid, but so obnoxious sometimes.

I bathed.
I swept my room.
I started the kids’ bath water.
I think I’ve done my part this morning. Time for some music and a crossword.

I made coco. That wasn’t very successful. I think I didn’t add enough sugar. Or salt. Or something. It just didn’t taste right.
The kids complained about it again, which pissed me off again. I put lot of effort into it, and they didn’t help at all, but they still felt it was their place to point out what I did wrong.

Stephanie called. She’ll be here in about half an hour.

I remember parachuting in my dream last night. Over a city. At night.
It was beautiful and thrilling.

27.12.08.
I got home late last night and I was exhausted and didn’t feel like writing.

Steff got here soon after she called. I walked out and lead her to my house.
Gave her a tour.
Made French toast.
It was really good this time. I added vanilla and I put the jar of syrup in a pot of hot water to heat it.
Steff loved it.
After breakfast, we washed her hair. She can’t do it herself because of her broken arm. I got water all over the floor and the back of her shirt and myself.
After I was done making a huge mess in the bathhouse, I got my laptop stuff together and we went to the White House to get on the internet. It didn’t work for about an hour, but we met up with Boris and Philip and talked for a while. It finally started working, so Steff and I got on our emails. I posted a pic of my dreads on myspace and a bunch of Kpando pictures on my Picasa. We got some fries and stayed there till about 3. Steff left then to ask Eva if she would do her laundry. I stuck around till about 3:40, took a taxi home, dropped off my laptop, grabbed my camera and went out to meet Mike at the Volta Regional Hospital. We walked to some of the local villages to take photos, then my shoe broke, so we took a taxi back to my house.
Shared our photos.
Ate fufu and light soup.
Went to the White House around 7, everyone else didn’t show till around 8. By everyone else I mean Steff, Beck and Beck’s friend Henry. I wasn’t able to contact Ben and Yiru and Julie was busy.

I’ve been sitting around all morning, so I’m heading over to Mike’s for lunch and a movie.
Lata.

I met up with Mike.
I met up with Ben, Yiru and Julie.
I met a chief.
He invited us to his house tomorrow for lunch.

I love Ghana.

28.12.08.
Happy Election Day.
Last night was fun but strange. Ben and Yiru showed up about an hour after Mike left. They had a few drinks and we shared a pizza and a plate of fries. We hung out for a while, talking about the differences between our high schools, what our friends expected of us versus what we’ve become, etc.
At some point, we decided to go to this place they’d heard of called Tayco Lounge. I didn’t realise till we got there that it was the rooftop bar that Diana and I had gone to.
They got more beer, I got a coke and we talked about accounting and investment banking and hedge funds and sub-prime mortgages and shorting lending banks and the root cause of the recession in America. It was an exhausting, but interesting conversation.
Julie started falling asleep halfway through the conversation, so she went home. Ben, Yiru and I ended up sticking around for a while, then paying and going out in search of kebabs that Yiru wanted. Luckily, having been here for nearly 4 months, I know where stuff is. I took them to Fapee’s and introduced Ben and Yiru to Fafa. We took a seat, ordered a meat plate from the roadside seller. We ate the meat and talked about investing and the best bets on the market right now. We talked about fraternities and Yiru’s college.
We ordered another meat plate.
We talked about lifestyles and parents and foster parents. We talked about photography and how the camera lens relates to the human eye and the technicals of shutter and aperture and ISO and such.
Ben and Yiru are such interesting people. I’m glad I met them.

We ended up meeting a guy who introduced himself as Togba Kassam. Togba is the first name of all chiefs in the Volta Region. Kassam is the name of one of the roads in Ho. He was pretty interesting. He invited us to his house for lunch today. Weird, but cool.

Later today, I’m heading over to Glory’s house, sleeping over, then heading out to Wa at 4 in the morning. She called me yesterday saying that the bus leaving on the 2nd of January is full, but that the bus leaving on the 29th is not. So I told her I’d join the first one. She seemed happy. But yeah, so I’m leaving tomorrow morning. And I won’t get back till the 6th.

I feel sick.
It was probably the meat last night...
Whatever.
I need to go bathe, then say good morning to everyone.

I ate an egg, made the kids’ tea, fetched their bath water and dressed. We’re meeting outside my house at around 11:40 to walk over to the chief’s house on Kassam Road. He’ll meet us outside.
This will be interesting.
I’m definitely bringing my camera.
I feel so sick. Eh.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage to eat lunch today.
And that 4-in-the-morning bus ride...
I took a Dayquil. I hope it helps.

I’m off to see the chief.

Strange moments at the chief’s house:

Being offered beer before noon.
Being told that everyone would clap for us while we ate fufu.
Getting my shoes stolen by the cook.

What a strange day.
I’m at Glory’s house now.

29.12.08.
Still at Glory’s and it’s 11. We’re waiting for someone to arrive from Nigeria. He got stuck at the Togo-Ghana border.

Woke up at 6 this morning, brushed my teeth, attended a family prayer meeting (a little awkward), had some tea and brown bread for breakfast, took a shower, ate fried dough balls with Glory, then helped pack everything into the car.
I’m still sick.
I finished Breakfast of Champions. Kurt Vonnegut is such an amazing author. Now I don’t have a book to read for the drive though... Oh well. I have my ipod. For a little while anyway. I forgot my charger.
I’m hungry and sick at the same time.
Had some lunch. Rice and stew.
John, the guy we were waiting for, showed up. We’re heading out soon.
I’m sitting in the van right now, in the window seat I asked for. At my feet is a box of cakes. On my lap is my bag containing my camera, ipod, wallet, water and toilet paper. My arm is resting on the open window on a scarf I was wearing earlier to ward off the cold. One of Glory’s aunties is sitting behind me. We’re the only two on the bus.
The kids are playing outside.
A rooster crows.
Mimi’s hiding.
Michael’s twirling a stick like a propeller by the back door.
Happy chatter drifts from the house.

I’m glad I’m not riding a trotro to Wa.
14 hours is a long time.
We’re boarding.
We have to fit a lot of people in this van.
At least we all sort of know each other.

We made it to Kofuridua. There was one point where the incline of the road was too steep for a van loaded with 18 people and at least a dozen suitcases, plus food. A bunch of us has to get out and walk up the hill. Took about 15 minutes.
We stopped by the side of the road to eat. I feel bad for the people who haven’t eaten since breakfast. Given, we got a bunch of snacks along the way (prawns, biscuits, liha, abolo and dried fish), but I had that stuff too and I had lunch.

Joy 99.7 FM played Cannonball by Damien Rice. First time I’ve heard that song on Ghanaian radio.

That was a long drive.
Ended up taking about 17 hours. I took my contacts out partway through, so I can’t see now. Glory’s dad gave me his turtleneck sweater. It’s keeping me warm.
I got a very warm welcome upon our arrival. Glory’s grandma shook my hands and hugged me. Her grandpa did the same, then stuck a cowboy hat on my head.
Now I’m sitting a waiting.
For what, I don’t know.
I’m hungry.

I feel like a cowboy right now. I’m drinking tea on a wooden bench outside, looking out at the desert and the cookstove and the roasting fire and the animals roaming about.
It’s morning and it’s cold and I’m wearing a sweater.
I missed this so much.

30.12.08
I just realised that it’s a new day. I never slept, so it doesn’t feel like it.
I also realised why I love it here so much.
It’s quiet.
No church bells. No megaphones. No gospel music or school alarms or funeral processions. No cars or motorcycles or chainsaws. Just... silence.
It’s so peaceful.
It reminds me of home.
It actually reminds me of Eastern Oregon. The hot days, the cool nights, the dry grass and the wind and the peace.
That desert feel.
I love it.

Turns out we’re staying at the Wa Polytechnic instead of here, but that’s okay with me. As long as I get to spend the days here, I’ll be happy.
This trip just keeps getting better and better. The Wa Polytechnic is incredible. We have several bathrooms, a full kitchen and dining room, a bunch of bedrooms and a sitting room. It’s beautiful. We have running water. We have a fridge. And trash cans. And windows that looks out onto the untouched plain of desert surrounding us.
It’s big and it’s clean and it’s quiet.
I love it.
They must have paid a fortune for this place. I’m sort of glad they’ve been so insistent upon me not paying for anything.

Nathi called from Mole, said they might not be coming to Wa because Lisa’s sick. He said Mole is expensive and not entirely worthwhile, but that Tamale was really cool.
I talked about Wa for a bit, wished Lisa well and told them to call me if they decide to come up.
Good to hear from them.

I got to take a nice cold shower, brush my teeth and organise my things a bit. I’m definitely bringing the sweater Glory let me borrow to the house tonight. I’ll bring Glory’s dad’s sweater too, in case he wants it. It’s cold here.

I got an offer earlier today to watch some type of animal (a sheep?) get slaughtered. I guess Glory’s grandparents were doing the slaughter to honour our visit. I asked Uncle Marty if they would be offended if I didn’t attend and he said no. So I skipped it. They were chopping it up when I left. I was glad I couldn’t see very well and that my nose was plugged up so I couldn’t smell it.
Besides the slaughtering ceremony, this trip has been awesome so far. They keep telling me to feel at home. I sort of do. It’s nice. We’ll probably go back after everyone’s dressed and showered to eat lunch and such.

We went back and ate, then Glory’s granddad took Glory, Patience, Makafui, Aboma, Michael, a neighbor and me to the town to go to the market. I got a lot of good photos, they spent about 30 minutes arguing with the tomato sellers over prices and I finally tried iced kenkey (a drink).
When we got back, I napped for a few hours. Glory woke me up around 7 or so for dinner, which was yam slice with some type of thick, leafy vegetable stew and was delicious.
I watched Glory’s aunties make groundnut soup and kenkey, had some wheat bread and cake with Glory, then talked to Mom and Cas for a little while. I told them about Wa and how I love it here. I told them about the crazy drive and the food we’ve been eating and how Ghanaians never seem to know the names of the fruits and vegetables they cook with. They said they’ve been baking (cookies and brownies!) and that they’re sending me a package for my birthday but that it probably won’t arrive for quite some time. That’s alright with me. They’re so sweet to send me stuff :)

After talking to Mom and Cas, I hung out at the house for a while before we piled back into the van to return to the polytechnic.

I’ve showered and changed.
I texted Diana :)
Time to get some much-needed sleep.

31.12.08.
It’s New Year’s Eve.
I can’t believe it’s the last day of 2008.
Tomorrow will be 2009.
Crazy.

I’ve showered, washed my dreads, dressed and collected my things. Time to go or else we’ll be late for morning devotion :\
I’m going to try not to attend the devotion.
It’s dark inside, so they might not notice my absence.
Yep. They started.
Glory’s grandpa asked me to come in. I said, Thank you. I think I’ll stay out here. He seemed to understand.
Uncle Marty did not. He told me, Finish writing and come in and we’ll pray.
This family is so religious.
And evangelical.
I’d say that’s it’s only downside. I don’t mind a religious family. It’s when they start preaching to me that they start losing points in my book.
Uncle Marty dragged me into the devotion and talked to me afterwords, trying to convince me that God does exist, that I’m just in denial.
Ugh.
I’m getting so sick of that.
Had two cups of tea and a cup of coffee, but no bread because we ran out.
I ran into one of the cement arches in the house, which gave me a fairly good-sized goose egg on my head.
I think the bread’s arrived.
I’m hungry.
Breakfast here is like a buffet in slow motion. You can have tea and coffee and milo, then 30 minutes later, you can have bread and butter, then an hour after that, porridge, then rice water. By the time you’ve had a chance to try everything, you’re full and it’s lunchtime.

I’m having so much fun here.
I think if I had to live in Ghana, I’d choose to live in the North.
There’s so much going on outside right now. Edem’s grinding pepper for groundnut soup, Gloria’s working on Jenny’s hair, three ladies are peeling the husks off maize, another lady is tending to the porridge, the rice water is on the fire, the liha is cooking, pans are being cleaned and scraped, bath water is heating, kids are playing... I love this.

I’ve been taking so many photos. I think I have about 190 right now. I’m so glad I brought all of my memory cards.

I just love watching all of the food being prepared. I’m learning and experiencing so much here. I can’t believe I almost decided to stay home instead of coming to the North. Or going to Kpando. Mike was right. It’s so much better to get out and experience new places than to keep going back to places you know you love.
Glory’s grandpa just put a baseball hat on my head. I look ridiculous.
I’ve got to go get my camera. They’re preparing kenkey.
I helped wrap the kenkey in maize husks (Jenny took photos of me), then I had some rice water. They put groundnuts in it. Good stuff.
After eating, I took some pictures, talked with Glory, then did a bunch of dishes.
Now I’m relaxing for a bit.
Everyone else seems to be doing the same.
Some are bathing, some are eating, some are talking or phoning their friends or just playing. I think a few are sleeping.

Next time Uncle Marty (or anyone) asks me to participate in their religious gatherings, I’ll just say, No thanks, I’d rather not.
I have nothing to be sorry for or ashamed about. I’m my own person, I can make my own decisions as far as what I do and don’t believe. It’s not their place to try and force me to participate.
I’m happy to help with the cooking or the cleaning or the wedding prep, but no one should be forced to act religious. It’s not right, no matter how they try to justify it.

I took some sab, which is like banku but more sour and solid. Like a banku pancake. I took it with stew.
I helped one of Glory’s aunties put the kenkey on the fire to steam it, then helped Auntie Esimae and Edem fry groundnuts. They first coated them in a batter of flour, milk, water, eggs, salt and sugar, then they dumped them in vegetable oil. After letting them fry for some time, they sieved them out, drained the oil, then put them in a bucket lined with newspaper to soak up the excess oil.
I’m sure they’re incredibly unhealthy, but they taste amazing.
The kenkey will be finished soon.
I love being in a place where not every meal consists of banku or rice. I don’t know if I’ll remember how to make any of this stuff. But I still like learning about it. It’s all part of the experience.

I watched one of Glory’s aunties take kenkey off the fire with her bare hands, ate some kenkey and groundnut soup with Edem, then gave Aboma and Makafui rides around the house on a bike. It was fun to ride a bike again. That’s another thing I really miss about home. Although with all the snow right now, I doubt there’s much bike riding going on.

I tried playing the I’ve got your nose game with Makafui, but it didn’t quite translate as well as I’d hoped due to the whole black-nose-white-hand thing. She just said, It’s black, and walked away rubbing her nose.

There’s a pigeon walking around in the yard. I find it so strange that there are pigeons here. They just seem so... Western. I don’t know.
I’ve even seen doves in Ho.
They just look so out of place.
City birds in Africa.

Glory and I were talking earlier about doing some baking together. She said that in Nigeria, she and her sisters were always in the kitchen baking bread and cakes and such.
I want that.
That type of relationship with someone here.
I really hope we can bake together sometime.

1.1.09.
It’s so strange to write that. It doesn’t seem like the new year. It doesn’t seem as though the holidays have passed. And 2009 just seems like such a strange, futuristic year.

Not much went on after I stopped writing yesterday. Glory and I took a long walk, talked about our sisters and the Muslims in the North of Nigeria and how her house got burnt down last year.
After that, we picked up Jennifer from the salon, then had tea.
While we were having tea, Glory’s dad brought over a piece of paper that was the program for the night, for New Year’s Eve.
It basically consisted of praying, testimonies, praises, more praying, more praises, prophecies, benedictions, etc. for over two hours.
I told Glory, I’d rather not attend.
I wanted to be taken back to the hotel, but they didn’t want to do that. The best option they had for me was to sleep in one of the rooms while the ceremony was going on. I went with that. I went into the room immediately even though it was only 8:30.
Talked with Glory for a little while, fell asleep, slept till 10:30. They woke me up then, said they could take me to the polytechnic now. They didn’t have the key to my room, so I slept on the couch in the sitting room. I was tired, so I fell asleep pretty easily.
The rest of the gang came home around 2:30, found me on the couch and dragged me into my room. I changed and went to the bathroom, but the floor in front of the bathroom was wet and my feet were filthy, so I ended up tracking mud all the way into our room before I realised what I was doing.
I went into the shower and rinsed my feet, dried them a bit, then crawled into bed.
For some reason, my roommates weren’t tired, so they were up playing solitaire on Michael’s laptop the bed with the light on. I finally got them to turn the light off, then I was out.
So. Awesome New Year’s Eve.
But whatever.
I’m here and I’m still going to have fun. It’s a new year.

I talked to Nathi yesterday and it sounds like they’re in town now, which is awesome. I’m going to try and meet up with them at some point today for lunch or something.
Glory said they should come to the wedding, but I doubt that’s how they want to spend their 2 days in Wa.

Makafui is reading some accounting magazine she found on the coffee table in the sitting room of the Polytechnic. She was reading out loud a second ago, but then I told her she’s an excellent reader for being five and she got all shy and stopped.
It’s true. She’s five and she’s a more proficient reader than my 7-year-old host brother.
Smart girl.
I just discovered we have a balcony. The view isn’t fantastic, but the breeze feels great.

I’m starving and the van is gone and no one has any idea when it’s coming back. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon and it’s almost 9 and we’re still at the polytechnic.

Now I’m in a bad mood. The driver went with Glory’s granddad to a village to get a cow for the wedding and I guess no one else is capable of driving the van over to pick us up, so it might be another hour or two before we can go to the house for breakfast. And chances are, there won’t be any bread in the house when we get there.

I didn’t get to eat until 10:15. But I’ve eaten now, so whatever. Breakfast was good too, so I’m happy.

Highlights of the day:

Auntie Charlotte brought gifts from England (Ferrero Rocher chocolates, corn flakes, milk, black currant pies, Peperami salami sticks... amazing stuff.)
Her kids, David and Sefa, who have the most adorable English accents.
Meeting up with Lisa and Nathi.
Getting closer with Glory.

Glory is becoming almost like a sister to me.

Tomorrow is corn flakes for breakfast.
The arrival of the other guests.
Another day of peace.

2.1.09
Corn flakes!
Ah. I’m so happy. We had corn flakes with milk and wheat bread with olive butter for breakfast. Glory told me that we have Wheatabix too. Yum :)

I woke up and took a shower, dressed. I had nothing to do so I was looking around in my bag for my journal when I found the peanut butter balls I bought at the market yesterday. I took one out of the plastic bag and was about to eat it when I took a closer look at the bag and saw a tiny ant. Then another. I looked closer and saw that there were dozens of ant crawling around inside the bag. I tossed it on the ground and shifted my focus to my messenger bag, which was also filled with ants.
I went to the bathroom, grabbed the trash can, brought it back into my room and started systematically emptying out the contents of my bag and cleaning them or throwing them away. By the time I was finished, I had a small pile of clean things on the bed, a trash can full of ants and an empty messenger bag still crawling with ants.
At this point I told Glory what was going on and she took my bag outside the room for a few minutes and brought it back in ant free. I thanked her. I hate ants.

I found a box of green tea on the dining room table that was produced in China for sale in Montreal. I wonder how it got from Canada to here. We live in a very strange world.

I have bites all over my ankles. I hate mosquitos and I hate ants. I hate all biting insects. I’m sick of being called Yevu and Obruni and I’m sick of being stared at for blowing my nose and I’m sick of being the only white person and I’m sick of being left out and lonely.
I miss my family and my friends and that’s completely justified.
I sat out on the balcony of the dormitory this morning listening to Your Hand in Mine. I was alone and the wind was blowing and I thought of Mom and Cas and Krist and Dad and Portland and Seattle and the train and the airport and my final goodbye and I started crying.
I love this place, but I’d like to go home.
Nobody will give me anything to do and everyone’s speaking Ewe or Dagari or Housa or Twi and I feel alone and out of place.
They treat me like a child here and as a result, my childhood insecurity is coming back in force.

I made paper cranes for David and Sefa, then I napped. Now it’s about four and I have nothing to do and Glory’s napping so I have no one to talk to.
My love for this place is diminishing.
I’m sick of religion and I’m sick of having nothing to do and I’m sick of people treating me like I’m more important than I am.

I ate kokonte, then napped again.
No one here seems to like me all that much.
Whatever.
I’m tired.
And tomorrow, I have to photograph a wedding.

3.1.09.
I do like dressing up.
I got up at about 7:30, cut two loaves of bread for everyone’s breakfast, had tea, bread and butter, dressed and took my malaria meds. I’m ready to go, though no one else is. These people take forever to dress and eat.

I’m still sick.
I hate being sick.
My throat is sore and my nose is running and I keep coughing.
Blah.

The car left without me.
I chased it down the road, but it didn’t stop.
I went with Uncle Edem and his friend in the Wa Poly bus to the main church. Didn’t get to photograph the dressing up, pre-wedding stuff, but whatever. I don’t even care anymore.

I got some photos of the service. I went to get biscuits for David and Sefa during the service and was directed to “the container” by a bunch of little kids. They all just kept yelling, Nasala! How are you! We are fine, Thank you! over and over. It was cute and strange.
They’re giving the “message” now, which means they’re about halfway through the programme. Then we have the reception, then a trip to the hippo sanctuary. I had no idea they were taking us there. That’s so cool.

Ugh. Nothing like someone else’s family reunion to make you miss your own family. Some guy just found my hiding place behind the house. He welcomed me to Ghana and wished me a happy new year, then left.
I’ve been here for four months. When do the welcomes stop?

Dad called. We talked for a while. He told me he thought I looked prettier without dreads. Thanks Dad.
Cas texted me. She’s so sweet.

I found Glory and all she asked me was if I wanted to nap, if I needed anything, if I was hungry. No one here ever thinks to ask me if I’m emotionally okay, if I need to talk about anything. I wish they would.

4.1.09.
Sefa’s birthday today :)
Last night after I got back to the hotel, I sat with Glory’s family in the main room and we talked and messed with each other, like a normal family. It was so great.
Uncle Pat and I talked about coffee and tea and medicine and chemicals and exercise and how they all relate to your health.
I listened to Elliott Smith and fell asleep happy.
I woke to the sound of my phone ringing. It was Uncle Edem. He said something about the guest house and the van and the hippopotamus sanctuary. I don’t know.
I told him he woke me up and he didn’t seem to mind.
Took a shower, brushed my teeth, dressed.
Made green tea and sat out on the balcony, right on the edge, right up against the railing, cross-legged. I drank my tea and listened to Death Cab. My moment of zen.

Came back inside. Asked Glory if it’d be okay if I had some corn flakes and she said, Of course and offered me an apple that Auntie Charlotte had brought from England. So now I’m sitting at the table, eating corn flakes mixed with the few drops of milk that were left and water, munching on my little apple. My mood is improving.

Everyone’s getting dressed for church. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m not going.

I think the reason that I get so stressed and irritable here is, ironically, my sheer lack of responsibilities. I have nothing to do and I hate having nothing to do. I’m out of phone credit. I need to get some more but it’s Sunday.

Uncle Pat tried to persuade me to go to church. I’m not persuaded. I’m staying at the house. I made corn flakes and water for Wendy and Aboma. I talked to Nancy and Eva and Mabel. I had another cup of green tea.
I’m bored.

I got out of going to church. Had a second breakfast with the kids (tea and bread), played with them for a while, then talked to Sister Akua, Wonder and Sister Giftee for a while. Sister Akua told me that from now on, I’m Sister Akos. She also taught me a few new Ewe phrases.
Nunca edzo? = What’s wrong?
Makpe dawowa? = Can I help you?

I hope we can go see the hippos today. We didn’t end up going yesterday because it was too late. I don’t think I can take another day of sitting around the house.

My sweater smells like dust.

I had yam and stew for lunch. The I helped with a few dishes, which greatly pleased everyone in the kitchen.
There was a bag of pastries sitting on the table and I asked Wonder where they came from and she gave them to me. Chips and a bit of cake. Yum.

There’s literally not a single place to sit down inside. The sitting room is full, the kitchen is full, the dining room is full, the hall is full, the bedrooms are full. I finally found a spot on a bench in the shade outside next to a woman I don’t know. She’s reading a pamphlet about something.
Her name’s Mercy and she’s from Kpando. She said I should visit her. We exchanged numbers.

A bunch of people still aren’t back from church. Glory, Uncle Pat, Uncle Marty, Auntie Patience, Uncle Robert, Auntie Charlotte, the kids... They must be starving.

I wonder if anyone will remember my birthday on tuesday. They’re not really doing anything for Sefa’s, so I’m not expecting much, hopefully just a Happy birthday or two.

I still have no idea who half the people in this place are, but I guess that’s expected. About half of them don’t even speak English.

This morning, I went out with Aboma and Makafui and Wendy and harvested a bunch of these little yellow fruits from the tree outside the Wa Polytechnic. The girls didn’t have any pockets, so they poured the lot of them into my bag. They’re still in there.

A group of people just arrived from church in a taxi. I’m going to go great them.

I got to talk to Krist for about a half hour. It was so good to hear her voice. I needed to talk to my big sister :) I guess her and Matt are having some financial and apartment problems. It’s sad. They work so hard.

We had Sefa’s birthday party. We had cake and Ritz crackers and chips and lollipops and doughnuts. Glory, Michael and I made cards for him. We sang Happy Birthday.
The occasion gave me the opportunity to take a group photo, which was good.

I don’t expect my birthday to be nearly as elaborate as this one was. My mom’s not here. And I’m not seven.

I ate banku (which I helped wrap) and soup with some kind of meat, plus some papaya that Sister Akua gave to me. Sweet lady.

Glory’s dad showed me where the lemon grass grows and told me he’ll make tea with it tomorrow.
I’m full in a way that only Ghanaian food can make you. I’m beyond sated, beyond full. I feel gorged.

5.1.09
After dinner last night, I sat around for a while, took a nap, then went back to the polytechnic in the back of the pickup truck.
Took a shower, crashed.
Woke up and found that five or six people had joined me in my room for the night.

Got out, made myself a cup of tea. I wanted to listen to my ipod out on the balcony, but my ipod is dead and some guy followed me out onto the balcony and started talking to me. It’s nearly impossible to be alone here, even for a short time.

I guess the group that came on the 2nd is leaving today.
I’m going to try and catch the fist van to the house this morning. I’m sick of being stuck at the polytechnic till 10 without food.
Plus, I want to do some laundry at the house today.
We left at about 9:40. Got to the house, took tea. Yet again, I have nothing to do.
Glory’s sad because Jenny’s leaving tomorrow to go back to Nigeria. Makafui and Wendy are sad because they got stung by bees trying to pick the Ga fruits.

Oh, by the way. Prof. John Evans Atta Mills won the election. It only took them a month to figure it out and announce it. But this is Ghana.
I got my clothes washed. I made a dish called Kelewele with Wonder. I ate rice and fried yam. I ate chocolate biscuits. I had a long, exhausting conversation with Uncle Pat about life and divorce and gay marriage and abortion laws in America and spirituality and wrong and right. I drank a lot of tea. I spoke with Auntie Charlotte for a long time. I called my host mom and Mr Adevu. I talked to Uncle Festus and washed dishes with Glory.
Today’s been really busy.
Sister Akua taught me more Ewe.
We wa do. = Well done.
Megbo. = I’m coming. (meaning I’ll be right back.)

I learned how to say I’m cutting plantains, but I forgot it already.

Tomorrow I’m going to some village. Maybe. Marty said the van was full but they’d try to fit me in. Uncle Pat said he’s not going, so there might be room for me.
I think that’d be an interesting thing to do on my birthday.
I can’t believe I’m turning 18 tomorrow. In Wa. In Ghana. In Africa.
It’s so strange.

6.1.09.
Happy Birthday.
No one remembered, but whatever.
I’m 18 now, which is cool.

Woke up at 4:50 this morning, showered and dressed, then started helping heat bath water for people. I’m still doing that now.
I’m hungry.
It’s 5:40. I’m already dressed and packed and ready to go, but no one else is. We’re all supposed to be ready to leave by 6, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Last night, Jenny decided to roll over to my side of the bed and snore right in my face. I had ants crawling on me and I had this really strange dream.
I dreamt that I was in an airport, but a really nice one with a luxury, renaissance-style hotel attached. I was in on of the hotel rooms and it was full of ants and it was flooding slowly. I was the only person in the room, then I started imagining people. In imagining them, I made them real and tangible, but they knew they were imagined and they would only remain real and tangible as long as I was imagining them. It was so bizarre.
I feel really sick right now.
Awesome birthday so far.
Fixed Makafui’s bag.
Heated more water.
6:12.
Still nobody’s remembered.
Not even Glory.

Mom called me. Just to say hi and to wish me a happy birthday. She’s so sweet. She asked me if she was the first one to wish me a happy birthday and I said yes. I guess they had a great time at Bachelor and want to plan a trip to Bachelor or Whistler next Christmas. She also said that they sent off my birthday package :)

Auntie Charlotte was the first person here to remember my birthday. She came into the kitchen of the house while I was washing dishes and dragged me out of the kitchen and into the dining room, then announced my birthday. They sat me down and everyone sang happy birthday to me and we made peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast.
Unfortunately, there’s no room on the van. So I can’t go to the village.

Okay. So today ended up being fantastic. Favourite birthday moments:

Uncle Marty telling me there was room for me on the van because it’s my birthday.
Taking photos out the window.
Sefa saying, Crikey! and everyone laughing at his Britishness.
A chop bar menu board advertising Irony Rice.
Finally getting real tissues from Auntie Charlotte.
Having to navigate the van through the bush to get to the village.
Finding out that the village was actually just a mud house that a bunch of elderly widows and their children and grandchildren live in.
Climbing up onto the roof of the village and being able to see for miles, though there was nothing to see except grass trees and the occasional house.
Drinking Pito (a drink made from fermented millet) out of a calabash with Auntie Charlotte and Glory’s grandma.
Trekking through the African prairie to seek out Uncle Marty’s extended family.
Trying porridge water.
Pumping water from a borehole.
Drinking water that I had pumped from the ground.
Being lured into a tiny bar by the hauntingly beautiful sound of an African xylophone.
Getting a private concert from the xylophone player.
Uncle Marty carrying a big bag of peanuts on his head all the way back to the house.
Sour cream and onion Pringles.
Getting a call from Lisa and Nathi.
Listening to two Germans singing Happy Birthday over the phone.
Getting Happy Birthday texts from Boris, my host mom, Steff and Dad.
Receiving calls from Dad and Krist.
Chocolate digestive biscuits.
The rooster Glory’s grandma’s neighbor gave to us escaping its ties and the van, then running about as the village children chased it, trying to catch it and return it to us.
Finally getting home around 8.
Banku and groundnut soup with beef and okro for dinner.
Uncle Pat’s herb drink, which I ended up pouring down the sink and washing down with a cup of tea.
Somehow cold water.
Talking with Glory and Auntie Charlotte about the day.
Finally getting back to the polytechnic.
Barely being able to climb the stairs.
Bathing in hot water.
Warming my feet in the leftover water at the bottom of the bucket.
Uncle Pat and Glory breaking out the chocolate biscuits that Auntie Charlotte brought from the UK.
Breaking the biscuits with a knife, which was extremely difficult and extremely loud. It sounded like a gunshot.
Quality milk chocolate.
Sharing the biscuits with Glory.
Looking in the mirror and discovering that my hair has basically turned orange from the dust.
Knowing that I have tea, milk, olive butter, bread, cheese (!), and ham for breakfast tomorrow morning.
Knowing that we’ll be sleeping at the house tomorrow night instead of at the polytechnic.
Realising just how many people love and care about me.

7.1.09.
Everyone’s cleaning.
Mopping, sweeping, scrubbing.
We’re moving out of here today. Luckily I have everything packed.
I’m hungry. Again.
And it doesn’t look like we’ll be leaving this place any time soon.

Someone’s playing their Jesus music on their phone.

We left a bit before nine. While I was waiting for everyone to finish packing, I climbed a tree to pick Ga fruits and share them with the kids.
We had to push start the van to get it going. It was pretty comical. It took about four tries to get it started. We had to push it backwards, then roll it forwards while Kujo (the driver) steered it and tried to start it. It was fun.
When we got to the house, there wasn’t any bread or anything, so Auntie Charlotte brought out some Tuc crackers, chocolate chip cookies and cream crackers and shared them with us.
I had some, then some Wheetos (like chocolate Cheerios) and tea and bread.

Now everyone’s watching Catalina & Sebastian, this Spanish soap opera translated into English and broadcast on MetroTV. It’s probably the most ridiculous TV show I’ve ever seen. They love it though. They’re all crowded around the telly. Even Glory and Gloria and Michael. Even Jemima, though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t speak English.
Someone’s out getting more bread. A bunch of ladies are outside pounding fufu. I just shared some fried dough balls with the kids. There’s meat steaming outside and I think someone’s preparing banku. It’s almost 10.

It’s about 6 now. I haven’t eaten since 11 . I ate fufu, took a nap with Glory, woke up at around 2 or so, watched the swearing in of Mills. It was honestly pathetic. Not the ceremony itself, but Mills. He’s a terrible public speaker and he couldn’t even read or repeat the pledge or the oath properly. I don’t even want to think about it. It just makes me sad.
Went and found Glory at a neighbor’s house, went on a long walk.
Came back, watched the news.
Took pictures of baby Edem.
Now I’m just sort of sitting around, wandering from room to room. I have nothing to do. I need to take a bath at some point, maybe eat something before bed.
Had rice and stew and fish for dinner. Had tea and bread with Uncle Pat and Auntie Charlotte.
We’re getting up at three in the morning tomorrow, then leaving (potentially) by four. Glory still has to pack some. I finished earlier.

That’s going to be such a long drive. I did it once though, I think I can do it again.
I’ll just try to fall asleep. That’ll pass the time.
It’s so strange that I’m leaving tomorrow and going back to Ho.
I’m so happy.
I’ve missed my family.

8.1.09.
I like pretending it’s morning when it’s not. Waking up at 3 AM, getting dressed and making coffee and wheetabix, then sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast and looking out the window, even though the view out the window is pure darkness. Love it.
It’s 4:15. I’m dressed, packed, and I’ve eaten breakfast. My shoes are on and I’m ready to leave. I’m just waiting at this point.

Glory’s grandma gave me a calabash :)
I’m sitting in the back of the van with my cloth wrapped around my legs and my sweater on and my bag in my lap. I’m ready.

We’ve been traveling for about 2 hours now. I rested for a little while, then looked out the window. There’s not much else to do in here. I’m only able to write because we stopped to change a tire. It would be too bumpy otherwise.

I’m feeling ill.
And it smells awful in here. Sefa has a tummy ache.
I think he may have pooed himself.

Long drive.
I’m going to bed.

9.1.09.
My family and Uncle Edem threw the cutest birthday party for me today, complete with a cake, sparkling strawberry juice, soda, malt, jollof rice, fried chicken, music, a card and a gift. It was so sweet. Edem shook the sparkling strawberry juice and opened the cork like it was a champagne bottle, so it sprayed all over everyone. He took pictures of me and Joel and Obayaa. They got me a stuffed dog toy and a shirt that doesn’t really work for me, but it’s the thought that counts.
Everyone just seemed so genuinely happy to celebrate my birthday.
I love my family.

I slept a lot today. Uploaded my photos, listened to music.
Now I think I’ll go to the White House to check my email and such, as I haven’t done so in about 2 weeks.

Oh. The drive took 20 hours. We took the worst way possible to Accra, hit a bunch of traffic and a ton of potholes, and got lost in Accra.
But I got home safely at about 12:30. Slept till 8.
I’m still tired, even after the party.
I’m having a good day though.

Went to the White House, met up with Lisa and Nathi. Lisa’s taking her dreads out. School’s resumed for them. Eva’s cooking better food lately.
I showed them my photos, we talked for a little while, then they left to eat and go see Beck.
I stuck around, caught up on emails and messages and such.
Abbie commented with a story of this guy who died because a black widow had nested in his dreads.
I want to go wash my hair now.
Kellie told me that everyone misses me in Banks, which I was a little surprised about. I mean, I know Abbie and the Mcgees and Austin miss me because they tell me all the time, but I didn’t know people were talking about me, and I didn’t know anyone outside my circle of friends missed me. It’s weird to think that I had that big of an impact on Banks. It’s kind of a nice thought.

I met up with Julie, Ben and Yiru and this girl Jenna from Australia at around 9. We hung out, talked about school and traveling, left around 11:30. I’m home now. Tomorrow: internet, laundry, drumming, Fafa’s.

10.1.09.
Sick.
Had to throw up at 4 this morning, don’t know why.
Woke up at 9:30, found a note on the table that my host mom is off taking Perfect to her sister’s house, that she’ll be back later. That I should have tea this morning, then make rice in the afternoon.
I started making my tea and Obayaa came into the room and said good morning. I said good morning back, then asked if she’d taken tea yet. She said no, so I had to make tea for her and Joel as well. Which resulted in me burning my toast.
The tea was too hot for them, so I went to the freezer to get ice cubes, but when I opened the door, the cake (which was sitting on top of the fridge for some reason) fell off. I caught the cake, but all the crumbs that were on the plate (a lot) flew all over the kitchen. Such a mess. The kids helped me clean it up, then took their tea. I had my green tea and burnt toast. Joel went back to playing with the spare phone, Obayaa to watching the telly.
I went to my room.
I’ll probably be here till lunchtime when I’ll prepare rice and stew and eggs for the kids. I hate it when the kids are left in my hands without warning. It’s my holiday and I just got back from a ten-day trip to Wa. I want to see my friends.
Eh.
I have a headache.
Made lunch. Ate. I’m going to Lisa and Nathi’s now. I’m bringing my drum and my laptop, so I’ll be taking a taxi.

Played drums with Nathi and some kids.
Made vegetable salad with Lis, Nathi, Steff and Beck.
Made fried pawpaw seasoned with salt and chili pepper with Nathi and Beck. Surprisingly tasty.
Went to the White house, bought bananas along the way, ordered papaya juice and checked my email and myspace, posted a bunch of photos.
Talked to Dad for a few seconds.
Met up with Yiru, Jenna, Lisa, Steff and, later, Nathi.
Took a taxi home.

Man. Okay, so that was long. I spent most of the day typing that up, then came to the White House to post it. That's where I am. I'm tired.

It looks like it's going to rain though!

Today is...
typing.
typing.
typing.

Yay :)

Check out the photos!
This time there are a lot.
And they're a tad more interesting.

They're on my Picasa. I think it's connected somehow to my blog, but if you can't find the link, it's here:

Click.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Love you all!

This might be easier.

What is the role of art in urban culture? How can art provide critical perspectives on issues of urban social and environmental justice, urban quality of life, community identity, the city as a space of diverse cultural encounters, and more (or can it)? How does the practice of art interact with the production of urban visual culture more broadly speaking?

Art reminds people to feel. It’s as simple as that. In urban culture, we often ignore pleasure and pain, joy and dejection, sympathy and hate. We all become needles in the haystack of shiny gadgets, important jobs and complicated machines that is modern society. As we do, we allow ourselves to be transformed into the machines that we operate. Art is an escape, one which enables people to shed the aluminum and plastic and wires that their jobs encase them in and become thinking, feeling individuals. To form opinions. To express themselves. To relate with other thinking, feeling beings. Because art is something that everyone is capable of in one form or another, it is universal in the sense that it bridges all divides and connects even the most opposite of cultures.
For nearly four months, I’ve lived in Ghana as a foreign exchange student. I’ve documented my experiences here both in writing and through the lens of my camera. In doing this, I am able to discover and capture my emotions at innumerable moments throughout my experience here and share those moments with others. In this manner, my art is serving two purposes which all art serves; it is causing me to be conscious of my own emotions and giving me the potential to stir the emotions of others. Even though most of the people with which I’ve shared my art have never set foot on African soil, the pictures are still powerful and the words are still poignant. Smiles, tears, laughter and desperation are the same in every language, every nation, every culture.
The elements of my writing and photography that are not universal, such as those which deal with cultural customs and living conditions, are those which allow me to do more than bring a smile to someone’s face. This is where my own opinions, experiences, and beliefs come into play. This is where I have a chance to express my views on controversial and critical issues. People often don’t realise the power of art in this sense. A single step can cause an avalanche. A single photograph can bring about massive change. By documenting the waste disposal problem in my community and sharing my photographs with aid groups, I may be able to improve the quality of life for people throughout Ghana. Often, I find that I am simply unable to describe a certain experience or situation. My camera allows me to capture my surroundings the way I see them, to tell a story without uttering a word. Honestly, I didn’t come to the realisation that art can have such a strong impact until I came to Ghana. There is always something that needs to be changed, improved or abolished. Through art, it is possible to give people a fresh view of the problems they choose to ignore. When you pass by the same groups of homeless people every day, you eventually begin to see them as simply a part of your surroundings. But when you see photographs of those people that capture the truth and reality of their situation, that capture their emotions and tell their stories, it becomes impossible to ignore them. When concern turns into action, problems are solved. Indirectly, art has the potential to cure diseases, eradicate racism, and save our ailing environment. It’s only a matter of making your opinions seen and heard. Art has the ability to do this better than any other form of communication.
Art, however, is more than a means of making people aware of social and environmental issues. When you really examine the visual culture of an urban society, the number of applications of art is astounding. Take, for example, the student sitting on the subway. She’s wearing an outfit fabricated by an artist. She’s reading a newspaper, a masterpiece of journalism, photography and advertising. She steps off the subway into a station designed and constructed by artists. The walls of the station are sprayed with the graffiti of artists. Artists made the trash bins, designed the sign announcing the arrival time of the next train, chose the location of the station within the city. The student puts away her newspaper and takes out a camera, which was, consequently, created by artists, and photographs the station. That photograph is art which captures the student’s view of other people’s art. The beautiful thing is that art produced by one person provides inspiration for another, so the visual culture of a society is constantly growing, changing and evolving.
It is the growth, change and evolution of the urban visual culture which keeps us in tune with the art which surrounds us. If the visual culture of a society suddenly became stagnant, people would eventually lose interest in art. They would go back to being machines. Societal problems would remain unsolved, cultures would lose touch with one another and eventually, all societies would resemble each other. In this respect, it is art which stimulates movement in society, enables cultures to connect and keeps us living passionately.