Happy Yourself Spot

Last.

2009-07-31T09:10:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-05-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-04-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-03-02T11:32:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-01-11T09:49:00.001-08:00

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 :)

2008-12-26T06:48:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-22T04:19:00.000-08:00

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.

Maps

2008-12-15T08:00:00.000-08:00

I just spent a very long time constructing a proper map of Ho on Google Earth. I emailed it to my immediate family, who I’m assuming will forward it to anyone whose interested. Check it.

Just got back from my trip to Accra and Cape Coast. An exhausting, but incredible weekend. You couldn’t pay me to spend another day in hectic, dirty, overpopulated Accra, but Cape Coast was absolutely perfect. It’s a fishing town and with a beautiful beach and a nice breeze and a population that thinks it’s Jamaican. It’s such a relaxing town. I got to see a drumming ceremony and traditional dancing and I got to swim in the ocean. We stayed at a hotel called Sammo, which had a rooftop restaurant/bar. It was wonderful. One morning, we went to breakfast at this place called Castle Restaurant, which was right on the beach. There was a bar table at the edge of the floor facing the beach, with just a rail separating us from a drop to the beach. The warmth and the breeze and the sound of the ocean and the view of the Castle made everything perfect. The food was good too. Pancakes with actual syrup. Eggs with real cheese. Delicious.

I got yelled at once for walking around town in my two-piece, but that was the only negative part of being in town, and in Cape Coast’s defense, Ghanaians are more conservative than Americans and my actions likely wouldn’t have been acceptable anywhere in Ghana. I was on a mission though. I was trying to find plantain chips.

Diana and Francesca are leaving. Scams (Francesca) is going back to England, then to Switzerland to teach skiing lessons in the Alps. Diana’s going back to the states to finish school and get some more work experience so she can get a job as a flight attendant. I’m going to miss both of them so much, but I’m not really jealous that they’re going back home for Christmas and I’m not. I’m going to Wa. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.

My mission today is to find some fabric. Scams and Diana have the same mission, but the also have work. So I’m waiting for them to be free. I’ve drawn out a design for a dress, a shirt, and a simple pair of cropped trousers. I’m excited. I don’t know if I’ll find anything, but the prospect of having some clothes sewn here is exciting. We’ll probably head out around 3 or 4.

Tomorrow, Diana and I are making french toast in the morning. I bought “golden syrup” (syrup made from sugarcane) and cinnamon in Accra, so we can actually make french toast that tastes like french toast. Should be fun. Diana said she’d bring bananas. I’ll make green tea. It’s a date.

Wa’s coming up in less than a week. I’m leaving on saturday or sunday. Strange that Christmas is next week. If I’m not able to get on the internet in Wa, merry Christmas :)

Today is...
a search for the perfect fabric for my dress.
spaghetti and vegetables.
back to my music.
lazy.

Photos!

2008-12-08T06:32:00.000-08:00

They're just from Accra and there are only a few of them, but they're photos nonetheless. Check em out :)

Click.

Harmattan?

2008-12-07T11:08:00.000-08:00

What happened to dry air and dusty skies? For the past two days, it’s been “cold” (maybe 60 or 70... I don’t really know, no one has thermometers here and my ability to sense how hot it is has really been thrown off due to the drastic change in climate), windy, and rainy. I was at the White House with Tolga, Franscesca (both volunteers from England) and Boris yesterday when all of a sudden Boris pointed out how dark the sky had become, in spite of the fact that it was only about 3:00. Ten minutes later, it just started pouring down rain, so heavily that water began to flood the bar, rushing in from the back garden and turning the tiled floor into a shallow lake. We scrambled to get out bags and purses and backpacks off of the floor and move to a table further from the doorway, the source of the river, but most of our things became soaked despite our efforts. Since then, its been raining on and off. I’ve even heard thunder, seen a little bit of lightning. This is so unusual for this time of year. I’m not complaining though. I prefer rain and cool nights to an atmosphere which is composed of more dust than breathable air. Surprisingly.

Boris, Marin, Diana and I are departing tomorrow morning for Accra, the big city. I’m psyched. I’ve already read through the Accra section of my Bradt guide about three times, underlining interesting restaurants, circling possible lodging on the city map, learning the layout of the area and the best ways to get around. I found us a decent place to stay, a hotel called Calvary Methodist Guesthouse, which is located in the city centre and has newly-refurbished, self-contained double rooms available for about $7 a night. We would get two and share, meaning that each of us would pay about $3.50 a night. Not too shabby, considering that a bed in the crowded Salvation Army Hostel costs about $5 a night, and we would need to use the shared showers and lavatory.

I’m just excited about being in a city again. About drinking fresh coffee at a cafe, about going to a proper bookstore, about eating at a restaurant that serves food that isn’t cassava-, rice-, or yam-based. I’m excited about seeing the ocean again. There’s so much to see and do in Accra, which will be an interesting change after living in quiet little Ho for 3 months. There’s the National Museum, Independence Square, Osu Castle (where the president lives), the biggest shopping centre in West Africa, a lighthouse, several large markets. There’s a restaurant that ships meat in from South Africa and serves dishes containing crocodile, springbok, zebra, kudu and ostrich. I can’t wait to leave. We’ll be leaving early morning and returning on monday, probably in the afternoon. Monday was declared a public holiday (likely due to the fact that the elections are on sunday) so I don’t have exams till Tuesday. We don’t want to travel back on Sunday because of the elections, so I’m glad we’ll have another day.

I’ve already taken two of my first term exams (English and Government) and have one to go (Maths). They were moderately challenging due to their length (the English exam was 2 1/2 hours, Government was 2), the essays (One for English, two for government), and their ambiguity. Many of the “objective” questions had either no answer or several. It was rather frustrating. I’m not too concerned though. I’m fairly confident that I did well on both of them. They were just a bit frustrating.

While I have been fairly busy lately, I want to let everyone know that I would still love to talk to you. Email me, call me, text me, it doesn’t matter, I’d just like to have some contact with you all. I haven’t received any phone calls from home lately and it’s starting to make me worry a little. Hope all is okay.

It’s getting late, so I think I’ll post this from Accra, where I’ve heard the internet is faster. I’ll start my feature now though.

Update... I met up with Diana last night and she said she has to paint today. I didn’t hear from Boris till this morning, and none of us have heard from Marin. So we’re postponing the Accra trip till next week, maybe Wednesday or Thursday, and plan on combining it with a trip to maybe Keta, Ashaiman, and Aflao, just making a big circle, hitting up as many places as we can in a week or so. I don’t think we’ll make any really solid plans. Maybe we’ll stay in Accra for two or three days, like we were planning to do before, then move Eastward to Ashaiman, then Keta, then Aflao, then back to Ho. As I’m not sure about travel between places, I think we’ll just pull a wait-and-see as far as lodging goes. I’ll bring my Ghana book along in case we end up wanting (or needing) to spend the night in a town along the way and we’ll just stick to trotros and walking. Should be interesting. And this way, we won’t be traveling during the elections or during my exams, so it’ll be safer and easier. So yes. Those are our plans, loosely.

In My Shoes: A Day at Mawuli

It’s about 12:00. I wake up to the sound of my alarm. I’ve been napping. My exam is at 12:30, but I know it likely won’t actually start until after 1:00, so I crawl out of bed and change into my school dress. I zip up the front, pin on my belt, smooth out the collar, and look in the mirror beside my bed to make sure everything is just right. If it isn’t, the girls at school will point it out and attempt to fix it. So I make sure to double-check.

My messenger bag is sitting on the plastic chair by my door; I pack it with my government book and my jotters for studying. Out the door by 12:15, I lock the front door, grab my sandals from the porch and slip them on, then begin my walk up the hill to the roadside. I pass between two houses, I pass between a smoldering trash pile and a wooden fence, I pass the welding shop. I smell burning plastic. There’s a woman sewing on the front porch of the seamstress shop. I can hear the consistent click-whirr-click-whirr of her sewing machine. There’s a small stream gurgling down the rough dirt road; it’s coming from a burst pipe. I pass by a stone wall dotted with lizards, I pass by a man talking to someone through the window of their house, I pass by the Coca Cola Depot. There’s a massive, blue-and-black semi that has been sitting in front of the crosswalk at the top of the road from my house for more than four days. There are three men dressed in blue and wielding tools who are trying to move it. There are palm fronds lying on the road behind the truck to warn people that the truck is broken down.

I’m feeling lazy, so I hail a cab. The first six pass by. Four are full of people, two already have passengers and aren’t passing by Mawuli. The seventh has only one passenger. The driver pulls over and says Where? and I answer Mawuli Gate. He nods and says Va, which means come. I comply. I say Good morning the the driver and the woman, as is custom, and the driver says Yeah, fine. Which means Good morning to you too. I fish 40 pesawas out of my wallet and pass them to the driver, who counts them, then gives me 5 pesawas in change. The woman, without turning to look at me, says Yevu. She says this like she’s testing me, slow and almost in the form of a question. I don’t answer her. She says it again. Then again. I finally say Please, I don’t like it when people call me that. The driver laughs and says Don’t mind her. The woman asks me in Ewe if I know the language. I reply that I know a little. We pass by tailor shops and trading enterprises and spots and food stalls. We pass by Chop Better Supermarket. We pass by the roundabout. My school comes into sight, then we’re in front of it. I say Thank you to the driver and he says Yeah. I climb out of the taxi and walk across the street. I enter the school gate and walk to my classroom. I pass by the security man, I pass by construction workers, I pass by the sign warning students about the danger of AIDS. I turn right at the main building, continuing down the paved road which loops around the school. Someone I’ve met says Good afternoon. I return the greeting. As I approach my classroom, I see from a distance that there is a sheep and a lamb standing beside the steps leading up to my block. The lamb is nursing. I turn left at the dirt path and walk up the steps, passing by the sheep and the lamb and several of my classmates. I enter the classroom. Desks fill the sunlit room from back to front, creating a sea of dark wood broken by student clad in red-and-white dresses and yellow shirts with tan shorts. Most students are chatting loudly, others are singing, others are sitting at desks, studying. I take my desk near the front and take out my notebooks and my Objective Test book for Government. I study. I wait. The teacher arrives at about 1:15, the students take their seats. The papers are passed out. The time is written on the board, along with the ending time, which is two hours later. He tells us to begin work. I go through the objective questions, then the essay questions. Most people start filing out of the classroom by the time I start my second essay. Some stay in the classroom and talk loudly with other students. If the teacher cares, he doesn’t show it. A boy sitting two desks to my left sniffles every three seconds. Regularly. I keep looking at him. It’s a requirement to bring at least two handkerchiefs to school every day, so I’m sure he has one. Yet, he sniffles. No one else seems bothered by this. If they are, they don’t show it.

The teacher calls time. I’m on my last sentence. I finish it, then hand him my paper, collect my bag, and leave the classroom. I walk under the cover of the path outside my block toward the back of the school grounds. I pass by students clustered in doorways. Descending the steps on the other side, I walk toward the back end of the road that loops around the school. I pass by the store shed, filled with maize from the harvest. I cross the road and enter a wooded area. To my right are the teachers’ houses. To my left is the Science block. The path I walk on is a mosaic of stones, broken glass, shards of pottery and plastic wrappers. My sandals push them further into the soft dirt. I pass by the smoldering rubbish pits, accompanied by a sign that reads DO NOT DUMP RUBBISH HERE! Use the Incinerator by the Piggery. Violators will be punished. I branch left, passing by another teacher’s residence. I can hear the telly through the open window. An advertisement. I branch right after the house, passing through the canteen. I smell frying yams and plantains. I feel the heat drifting lazily from the cookstove to my left. Students crowd the area to buy food for lunch. I pass through. To my left is one of the boys’ dorms. To my right is the Agricultural Science building. I turn left after the dorms. I pass over a small cemented canal of sewage. I pass the Geography teacher’s house. I enter the JSS grounds. It’s empty save for a few wandering students and teachers; everyone else is in their classroom. I pass under the trees, through the field, by a field that was recently burnt. I branch left. The path in front of me is straight and completely exposed to the sun, but I don’t mind. To my left is a shop that sells soya beans, to my right is the stone shell of an old building. To my left is a housing compound, to my right is a corn field. To my left is a carpentry shop, to my right is a leather shop. I’m at the road. I turn right. It’s a short walk back now, straight to the crosswalk, left to my house. I pass in front of the broken-down truck, I pass by the busted pipe. Someone’s put a rock on top of the pipe, so now the water is spraying rather than flowing smoothly. I veer to the left to avoid it. Turn left, pass the welding shop, pass the pile of trash, now reduced to black ash, pass a mother goat and her kid, duck under the clothes line, pass through my yard, and enter the gate. I unlock the door and go inside. I’m home.

Update Numba Two... I spent the last three incredible days in Kpando (it has a silent k) with Boris, Francesca, Mike (Francesca’s American friend who works with her at the clinic), and Mark (A Canadian guy we met in Kpando). We just decided to go on a whim, but I can’t believe how amazing the trip ended up being. We left Friday morning around 11, arrived in the afternoon, walked around town, went to lunch/dinner, then met Mark and Soniel, the American gal running the children’s centre at which Mark works. They asked us if we wanted to go get drinks and we said Sure. They led us to a little spot, where we sat down and talked with one another for a few hours. Mark (whose really interesting... he spent the last 5 months attending a swing dance camp in Sweden and hitchhiking across Europe.) said he’d like to come with us to Lake Volta on Saturday, so we set a time, I gave him my number (he doesn’t have a cell phone... he’s never owned one) and Boris, Francesca, Mike and I took off for our hotel. We stayed at Catherine’s Lodge, which was a bit of a ways out of town but was the best deal. Francesca and I shared a double and Boris and Mike shared another. We woke up early, met Mark at this little restaurant called Rose’s for breakfast, then got a taxi to the lake. It was so incredibly beautiful. Accessed through a small village called Torkor, the lake was vast and blue and dotted with islands and sailboats. The sailboats had square sails made of canvas, which made them look like small pirate ships. We walked to the shore and met with a fisherman who said he’d take us to the islands for 5 cedis a head. After a little bargaining. He scooped the water out of his boat (a little disconcerting) and we boarded and took off. The boat was long and wooden and motorised. We sped to the first island, which was more like a grassy knoll than an island, but it was interesting nonetheless. We got back on the boat and the fishermen took us to the next island, which they told us had a village on it. They weren’t exaggerating when they used the word ‘village.’ Mud-brick or stick houses with thatched roofs, people with tribal scars, the works. But with a strange, modern twist. Some of the villagers were wearing secondhand clothes, some had CD players, and there were NDC flags situated throughout the village. And most of the people spoke at least a little English. It was odd, but very interesting. We eventually left the island and headed back. We thanked the men who had taken us out, and caught a taxi back to Kpando. After we got back, Boris and Mike departed for Ho. Francesca, Mark and I walked to The Blues of Ur Meditation Centre outside of town, stopping along the way at a little bakery for some brown bread (wheat bread) and chips (small, sweet, fried dough... like hard little doughnuts). The meditation centre was absolutely bizarre. I didn’t understand a word the caretaker (who gave us a tour) said and the signs definitely didn’t help. The place was really beautiful and the statues were interesting, but it just made no sense to any of us. We thanked the caretaker for the free tour, then walked back to town. Mark took us to the children’s centre where he’s volunteering to ask if we could stay there for the night. Soniel said it wouldn’t be a problem, that they had some extra mattresses for us to use. We met the kids, which was cute but also really sad. I know a few of them have terminal diseases, a few of them have HIV, a few will never leave the centre. It was incredible to see how happy these kids are though. Their English is incredible and they love talking, playing games, watching the telly... just normal kid stuff. We were all really tired, so after talking to Edem, the owner of the centre, for about an hour on the roof, we went to bed. I didn’t sleep very well due to my lack of a pillow, but at least I had a pad to sleep on and it was free. This morning, I woke up, had some coffee up on the roof, took a bucket shower, dressed (in the same clothes I’ve been using for the past three days) and got some breakfast with Francesca. Afterwords, we came back to the centre so I could take some photos of the kids. I played football with a few of them using two chairs for nets. I love how universal football is. We thanked and said Bye to everyone, then left the centre to go to Fesi, a little town that has a pottery shop. We took a taxi there, wandered to the shop, wandered in the shop, wandered around town, then went back to Kpando. Cute shop, but the town itself was completely void of activity and took about 2 minutes to walk through. When we arrived at the station, we caught a trotro back to Ho, where I am now. Nothing has changed here. The truck is still broken down, the pipe is still burst, the people still call me Yevu. It’s somewhat comforting. Tomorrow is another public holiday, then on Tuesday I have my Maths exam. Wish me luck.

Today is...
finally changing my clothes after three days.
blisters on my feet.
a family reunion.
freedom.

Metamorphosis

2008-12-01T07:05:00.000-08:00

I feel as though I’ve emerged from the cocoon in which I was hiding, the one which allowed me to escape from Ghana, the one to which I retreated so often, I eventually forgot what I was doing, what I was hiding from. Upon breaking free of my self-spun case, I looked around and discovered that the things I’d been shielding myself against were those which are most comforting. My host family, thoughts of home, memories of and contact with my friends and family in the States, my past life... I need these things to keep going. When I realised this for what must be the fiftieth time since my arrival in Ghana, I truly got it. And it seems as though this realisation has changed me in some way, this time for the better. I’m happy. I’m carefree. I’m myself. But not the self that I knew before. I believe that once a person’s mentality changes, they no longer have the ability to return to the person they were before the change of mind. I’ve undergone such a change, and I’ve become the person that came out of that change. I’ve embraced this new mentality as my own, and it’s a fantastic feeling. I’m more confident, more open, more assertive, more honest, more lenient and, perhaps most importantly, more prepared for change. I know that, because of the lifestyle I’ve chosen, things are going to be changing a lot throughout my years. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, sometimes for nothing at all. But the Alyssa that’s emerged from her cocoon is ready for it. I’m a new person, but I’m still me. It’s amazing to realise that.

Since I’ve basically outlined my plans for the rest of the year and recounted my experiences so far, I feel that it’s about time I start making my blogs a little more interesting. So, I’ve decided to adopt a new blogging style. I’ll continue to do my regular updates as usual, but I’ll include a small feature at the end of each post. I’ve developed four categories (so far) to better organise my thoughts and to give people a clearer view of my life in Ghana. The categories will be: “In Focus”, which will bring into view a certain aspect of the Ghanaian culture; “In My Shoes”, which will bring you through an experience or a moment from my perspective; “Verbal Portrait”, which will give biographical details about a person I’ve come to know; and “In Brief” which will summarise changes, developments, and occurrences at the close of each month. This way, I hope I’ll be able to better portray the whole of my life here rather than random sections here and there. I’ll start with this blog.

So that’s the news for now. Mom and Cas, thank you so much for the package. As I opened it, I felt as though you were standing right behind me. Like it was my birthday and you’d given me a present, were looking over my shoulder to see what my response would be to each of the items. Your card was so touching and sweet, the words, so appropriate and inspiring. I’m so happy to have Time; even if it is a few months old, there are things in there that were news to me. B&W is amazing and inspiring and absolutely beautiful. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you thought to include a photography magazine. Perfect book selection. I’m already almost finished with Maus (an outstanding piece) and I can’t wait to start Breakfast of Champions. The newspaper sections were great; I read all of the comics, finished both of the crosswords, and did the word puzzles. Haha it’s great to have such familiar entertainment. The cookies, chocolate, and gummy bears were a huge hit with my family and are still being enjoyed (we keep them in the fridge to prevent them from turning into melted blobs). I love the music! I shared it with Diana and we both just loved the new Killers song. Closer is my new favorite by Kings of Leon. And the Tums. You remembered :)

I really can’t tell you how elated I was to receive this package. I was almost crying, I was so happy. Thank you so much. I’ll be sending a parcel back containing little bits of my life here. I’m preparing it, so it should be posted by next monday. Luckily, I think mail going to the U.S. travels faster than mail coming into Ghana. Not surprising. But it means that you might receive the parcel by Christmastime, or at least before the New Year. Hopefully.

Well, it’s late and it’s Sunday, so I’m going to call it a night and post this tomorrow after school. Time for my first feature.

In Focus: Ghanian Fruit

This topic popped into my head today while I was eating an orange in a taxi on the way back from the market. I’ve begun to take for granted how amazing and available fruit is in Ho. Walking down a street, I pass a banana stand every 10 feet or so. Add to this the steady flow of walking banana vendors (who carry the bananas on their heads, stacked high on what look like giant pizza trays) and I usually wait no more than thirty second when looking to buy bananas. Coming from my house, there’s a fruit stand right at the roadside, maybe two minutes from my doorstep, which sells bananas, pineapples, oranges, and sometimes bread. It’s incredible how easy it is to find fruit here.

And how inexpensive the fruit is. 1 cedi (about 96 cents I believe) will get you a whole pineapple, 20 oranges, 20 bananas, a small watermelon, or two apples (with 20 pesawas in change... apples are 40 pesawas apiece). Because apples are considered “exotic fruit” here, they’re much more expensive (eight times more expensive than oranges and bananas) and because they’re imported from who-knows-where, they’re not always delicious. I try to stick to the local fruits.

All of which are incredibly delicious. We recently harvested a bunch of tiny bananas from our farm and have been enjoying them as they ripen. They’re not very impressive-looking, rather like stubby yellow fingers, but the taste absolutely amazing. I was previously unaware that the strawberry rule (the smallest ones are the sweetest ones) also applies to other fruits.

I just realised the other day on my way to school that every day, I pass by a blackberry bush, or what looks like one. There are even berries on it, though they’re green. I’m not sure if they harvest the berries here, because my host mother claims she’s never eaten a berry. I guess I’ll find out.

Another oddity: my host mother told me that if you stick the top of a pineapple in the ground here, it’ll grow into a pineapple shrub. At first, I didn’t believe that it could possibly be so simple to grow pineapple, but then she took me out to the yard and showed me our pineapple bushes. She told me I should try it sometime.

I love this place.

Today is...
eating fufu and palm nut soup with my host family.
hanging out with Diana all morning.
a trip to the market.
bliss.

Slowing down.

2008-11-26T06:45:00.000-08:00

When I first arrived in Ghana, I wondered why everyone walked so slow. I thought perhaps it was due to the time thing - Africa Time - but I’ve come to the realisation that this it’s almost a necessity to walk slow here. Because of the heat. I’ve found myself adapting, and (surprisingly) it makes me sweat a bit less. Of course “a bit less” is still bucket-loads, but still.

Winter is approaching, and with it, the Harmattan Winds. The winds come from the Saharan Desert, sweeping across Western Africa and choking the air with dust and formidable heat. During September and October and part of November, the heat was bearable because you knew that even if it was hot and dry for three days straight, rain was likely on the way. Now, there exists not even a remote possibility of rain. I smell and taste and feel the dust in the air constantly. It’s terrible. The only upside is that the winter brings cooler nights. Cold enough, in fact, to wear a blanket. That’s saying something. I try as hard as I can not to imagine what it’s like in Oregon right now. When I do, it makes me feel unbearably homesick. I never thought I’d miss the cold weather and the rain as I do now.

Glory is in the hospital again. Same abdominal pains. She called me yesterday to let me know and I visited her last night. She’s in the same hospital, same room, same bed. It’s strange. She seemed to be in good spirits, but I could tell she was in pain. And when I talked to her at about 6:30 PM, they hadn’t given her any pain medication all day. She’s going in for some kind of scan today, then they’ll analyse the scan and the blood test they took and determine what’s going on. She’s stressed because she has exams coming up next monday and this hospital isn’t exactly known for its timeliness. She was alone in her room when I got there, and it seemed to cheer her up to have a visitor. Soon after I arrived though, an unconscious girl in her twenties was hauled in by a guy who I would assume is her boyfriend or husband. He explained to the nurses that he’d found her passed out on the floor upon coming home and that she had consumed alcohol. He was followed by about 7 or 8 other people, probably friends and relatives, and soon the room was full of people. Glory and I decided to take a walk to give them some space and we talked about the upcoming holidays. She asked if I’d still be interested in going to Wa with her and her family and I told her of course I would. We chatted for a while, then at about 7, I walked her back to her room and walked home. I told her to call me today around 4 to let me know how she’s doing and if she’s still in the hospital, and she said she would. I hope she’s ok.

On a lighter note, I played football (soccer) with my assigned house yesterday after school. I had a math test to make up, and afterwords, my maths teacher asked me if I play any sports. I said yeah, a few. He asked if I play football and I said sure, reasonably well. He asked me which house I’d been assigned to and I responded Nightingale. He said Nightingale had a football match at 4 against another house, and asked if I’d like to join in. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I opted to play. A girl helped me find a uniform and some shoes (which were much too big and not football boots, but better than the sandals I was wearing. I changed in the room beside the dining hall and joined “my house” out on the field. I was assigned a number and told to warm up. The girls and I formed a circle and passed the ball back and forth for a little while as we waited for the other house to show. Only three showed up at first, and since the game had been delayed already, the “officials” (the teachers running the match) decided to just go ahead and start it. Since our house had about 20 girls on the field, the opposing team was a bit outnumbered. Eventually, more girls from the other house showed up, making the match slightly more fair. We just had fun though. It was hot and I was sweating out my eyeballs and the field was uneven and dried up, but it was fun. We ended up winning 5 to 0 but I didn’t care, I just wanted to know when we would play next. I was told that this was the last match of the term, that games would resume again next term. I said ok, changed, returned my clothes, and walked home in my school uniform, red-faced and covered in sweat. Good times.

I’ve barely been spending any money lately. I allow myself to take one taxi ride per day, which amounts to a whopping 35p (about 32 cents) and have cut back significantly on my purchases. I’ll occasionally stop by a roadside shop to buy 20 or 40p worth of bananas if we run out or a bag of plantain chips for the kids (their favourite treat). And I go to the internet cafe 2 or 3 times a week, usually spending about 50 or 60p each time I go. But other than that, I’m pretty much saving my money for travel. It’s nice. I don’t feel like I’m wasting any money. And I think I’ll have enough to go to Accra on the 5th for the weekend, which is great.

I went to school for one class today - government - and the teacher didn’t show. I stayed in school for an hour and a half studying my government book, then left as soon as the bell rang. I walked home on sore legs and bathed, had some bread with jam, did some laundry, hung it on the line, then ate lunch (rice and chicken) at about 11. Think I’ll walk to the internet cafe around one, then try and visit Diana at her compound. I might go to the market to see if I can find some shoes for school (the sandals I’ve been wearing are getting stretched from excessive use, which results in me tripping on everything.) and a belt (most of my pants have become too loose, and I’m sick of fashioning belts out of fabric). Then later tonight, I’ll go back to the hospital to visit Glory.

Yep. So that’s what’s going on. I’m still anxious for my letters and packages to arrive. I’m getting nervous at this point, seeing as it’s been almost 2 months since they were sent. I’m hoping that they’re just delayed. I’m really hoping.

Today is...
bathing in sweat.
anticipation.
exhaustion.
familiar.

Almost 3 Months?

2008-11-24T04:55:00.000-08:00

It seems like yesterday that I was at PDX, toting my carry-on bags up to the security counter, warding off tears as I waved at Mom over the heads of so many other travelers. Now, I’m almost a third of the way through my 10 months in Ghana and I’m busier than I’ve ever been in my life. Time is in short supply here, especially since so much of it is wasted by the well-meaning but completely un-time-conscious Ghanaians.

Take today for example. Looking at my school schedule for today, one would probably assume that I could basically sleep all day and not run into any conflicts. The reality, however, is that I was up at 4:25 this morning for a cold bath, a cup of coffee and a banana, and this British art show called Art 21 that airs on MetroTV at 4:30. At 5 was Aljazeera and at 5:15, I started the rice. I woke the kids up at 5:40, received a lesson on cooking plantains from my host mom at about 5:50, then watched CNN at 6. At about 6:30, I put the stew on the fire, then put the kids’ lunches together before they left at 7. I then talked with my host mother about the mail, which she said she’d check today, my travel plans for the holidays, and the fact that I should probably be dewormed, which she agreed with. I then bathed again at about 7:15, went back to my room to dress and get my school things together, and was out the door by 7:45. Walked to school, talked to Boris and Philip for a while before class started, got my missing assignments and notes from Philip, copied the notes in class while the government teacher graded our assignments from several weeks ago, and then left at 9:30. I walked back home, bathed, changed my clothes, and did a bit of washing out on the lawn, as I’ve accumulated a bit of dirty clothes and towels and such since saturday. I finished that by 10:30, had a hard boiled egg for my second breakfast, and am now in my room with my fan on, listening to Talking Bird by Death Cab for Cutie (Listen to it. It’s amazing.) and writing my blog. I’ve decided to save time and money by writing my blogs ahead of time whenever possible so that I can just go to the internet cafe, hook up my laptop, and cut and paste my entry into Blogger. Then I’ll have more time to respond to emails, get on myspace, and check out the news while connected. At about noon, I plan on heading out to the internet cafe, which is about a 15 minute walk from my house. I’ll spend about an hour there, stop by White House, which is across the street from the cafe, and get a sprite before walking back in the afternoon heat. When I get home, I’ll take my clothes off the line, bathe once more and take an hour-long power nap. After my nap, I’ll eat some rice, change back into my school uniform, collect my things for Project Citizen, and walk back to the school at 3:10. The meeting will end at about 4:30, at which time I’ll walk back to my house, bathe (I think that makes five times), change into my street clothes again and walk to Boris’s house with my laptop, which will take about 30 minutes. At Boris’s, I’ll help him transfer his photos onto my laptop for safe-keeping, then we’ll work together on an email which will be sent out to all the exchange students in Ghana notifying them of our idea for holiday traveling. After we decide what to say, I’ll write it in English and he’ll write it in French and I’ll save it on my computer for sending tomorrow. Then we’ll probably watch a movie or talk for a while, go to his host mother’s roadside chop bar for dinner, and head home. I need to be home by about 9:00 so I can bathe (6), chat with the fam, see if I received any mail and be in bed by about 9:30.

Yeah...
So that’s today. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the internet cafe to send out the email about Boris and my travel plans. I’m not sure if they’ll work out or not, but since AFS has yet to plan any excursions or get-togethers for the AFS Ghana students, Boris and I want to a sort of Ghana road trip, using trotros and taxis to go from town to town, staying the night at each town that has one or more AFS students in it. I’m pretty sure this includes Sunyani, Takoradi, Accra, and Agona Swedru. Our proposal is that if the other students’ host families would be willing to open their homes to Boris and I for the night (which I have no doubt about... Ghanaian families are so incredible welcoming and hospitable.), we’ll do the same if they’d like to come to Ho. We’ve both discussed the idea with our host families, and they encouraged us to follow through with the idea, saying they would be honoured to provide shelter and food to the other exchange students for a night. So far, the only glitch in the programme is money. While lodging would be free and much of our food would be either brought along with us or provided by whoever we stay with for the day, the trip would still be fairly expensive due to transportation, extra food expenses, and entertainment (trips to water falls, hiking trails, local attractions, shopping centres, etc). So we’re still thinking about it. But we’ll see what the other exchange students think about it first before cementing any plans.

Marin, the lady from Belgium, recently left to go to the North for 2 weeks, but when she gets back, Boris, Diana (the girl from Indiana), Marin and I will all take a weekend trip to Accra. Marin and Diana will be going home soon after this, so it’ll be fun to have one last weekend together. We’ll probably be staying with an elderly lady Marin met whilst volunteering in Accra who told her that her and her friends were welcome at her house whenever they (we) are in Accra. I guess her husband works a lot, so she gets lonely at home and likes hosting and cooking for company. So again, our costs would mostly be limited to transportation and entertainment. The holidays are coming up on the 19th of December. As my host mother was placed in a JSS school teaching Form 3 students, she’ll be working throughout the Christmas holiday (poor lady.) and hence, our trip to Kumasi has been canceled, or at least postponed till the Easter holiday. Uncle will be returning for Christmas though, and promised that he’d take me to Keta, to the coast. I also might still be going up to Wa for Glory’s family reunion. So the holidays will be busy.

As for what’s been going on lately, there was the meeting with the European Union guys (not the U.N... Marin got them mixed up.) at Stevens Hotel, which was absolutely fascinating. Boris and Marin talked with the member from Belgium, as he spoke French, and Hannah (a volunteer from England), Kate (a volunteer from Germany), Charlie (another from Germany) and I spoke with Heins (yes, like the ketchup.), who was from Germany. Heins was extremely interesting. He lived in Nigeria for ten years, so he has that signature Nigerian manner of speaking, slow and thoughtful and careful. He knows so many languages, including Housa (sp?), Ewe, German, Danish, Swedish, English, a bit of French, and a few others that I can’t remember. He majored in African Studies with a minor in Foreign Affairs, and there are very few African nations to which he hasn’t traveled. He’s also spent a lot of time in Mali and has traveled to several Middle Eastern states which I’ve never even heard of. As you can imagine, we had a lot to talk about. I guess the EU sent them to Ghana to observe the elections. So we were able to learn a little more about the election process in Ghana as well. It was really, really interesting.

Boris, Diana, Marin and I also took a trip last Friday to go to Amedzofe, an adorable little town up in the hills about an hour outside of town. Since the town is so isolated, they speak a different dialect there. We went to see Ote Falls, but the entire trip was extremely memorable. My favorite parts of Amedzofe:

The trotro ride up to the village, sandwiched between two fairly heavy women. I’m getting used to this type of trip.
Getting off the trotro with one of the women and looking around confusedly for a short time before being informed by the trotro driver that I needed to get back on the bus, that we weren’t there yet. This got a few laughs out of Boris, Marin, and Diana.
The HIV/AIDS posters hanging in the Welcome Centre, which bore messages such as: “Support sustainable tourism, not AIDS.” and “Hey! Have you forgotten about the Virus I mean H.I.V.?” Absolutely hilarious. I ran around with Diana and took pictures of all of them.
The little village children calling out “Chichi! Chichi!” as we passed, which we decided must be their word for “white person” as no tribe in Ghana is without a word for us. We all decided we liked this better than “Yevu” though, as it made the little sound like little birds, which was absolutely adorable.
Our guide, Solomon, who instructed us to turn left at the flower patch to find the path to the falls. We didn’t think much of it at the time, but as soon as we got on the road, which was practically lined with flowers, Diana asked “Did he seriously just give us directions based on vegetation?”
Crawling down the rope railing like a sloth, using my hands and legs and cradling my bag and my camera on my stomach. I still have burns on the undersides of my knees, but it was completely worth it.
Finding a hand-made bead necklace along the path. Broken, but fixable. Diana tied it around my neck, joking the someone had probably cursed it with Juju and left it along the trail in hopes that a wayward traveler such as myself would pick it up.
Diana finding a piece of the same necklace beneath a plant down by the falls.
Standing ankle-deep in the water at the base of the falls, looking up and feeling the wind and the spray on my face.
Wandering up into the forest surrounding the falls to try and get a better view of the jungle which extended from the base of the falls and finding a small wooden contraption which looked to be some type of cooking structure, and a twine rope tied in a circle.
Taking a picture and running out of those woods like they were on fire.
Showing the picture to Marin, who said it was like the Blair Witch Project.
The hike back up, which was more like rock climbing than hiking.
The sun coming back out as soon as we emerged on the path leading back to the village, just when some rain, wind, or shade would have been most appreciated.
Boris describing this as the Universal Vexation Law, like the toast always falling butter-side down.
Our typical Ghana lunch of bread and bananas, purchased at the town’s “market,” which was truly just a collection of about 10 food stalls, all selling about the same items, surrounding the small town square.
Eating them at a wooden table at the only bar in town, which had a giant painted sign on the wall reading “SMOKE NOT!” and served what the bartender described as “somewhat cold” Malta. It was “light-off.”
The man wearing rubber boots, ratty trousers, an old shirt, and a floppy hat, all equally covered in dirt and paint and who-knows-what-else, who walked in and approached the bartender, who I’m assuming was his friend, exclaiming “Dis it my dis ting! Dis ting is my vote! Dis is my guy!” “Dis ting” referred to the small slip of paper in his hand, which I recognised as a parliamentary voting slip.
Returning to the town square to find that the trotro had just arrived and would be returning to Ho right away. We all got excited but then realised where else would it go?
Meeting two girls, who boarded the trotro after us, from Australia and Holland, both linguistics students who were staying in Amedzofe to study the dialect, which I guess is entirely undocumented. They said the come down to Ho once a week to go shopping for groceries. This put things into perspective a bit.

Overall, this was one of my favorite excursions so far. The ensuing weekend was fairly uneventful. Diana came to my house Saturday morning to meet my family and try the local tea, which I pick from the backyard, and have some rice water. We hung out and talked for a while. It was fun.

Mr Adevu is planning traditional drumming and dancing lessons for Boris and I, which will be free and will take place on Saturdays and Sundays. I’m psyched.

Well, I’m breaking my time schedule with this immense blog, so I better head off. Call me?

Today is...
walking, bathing, changing, repeating.
trying to stay on schedule.
reminiscing.
busy.

Too much

2008-11-17T02:06:00.000-08:00

to write about. And not enough hours in the day.

I went to Tagbo Falls with Johannes and Marina (the two German volunteers who go to Olivia's Club- the kid's group -with Boris and I) along with Johnathan, a volunteer with the Catholic church who's staying in Tema. He knows Marina from Germany and was visiting her in town, and we all decided to meet for drinks last Friday. Over drinks, they asked if I wanted to go to the falls with them Saturday morning and I said Of course. Boris had some family event to attend and so was unable to join us. It's strange how trips are planned so informally here.

We met at the station at around 8:00 AM the next morning, found a trotro that claimed to be going in the direction of the village where we could catch a taxi to the village at the base of the falls. We said ok, paid the fees, and were off. After waiting about an hour for the trotro to fill up. Just as well though. It gave me time to write in my journal and read the Daily Graphic.

The trip took about an hour, and when we squeezed our way out of the trotro, we were directed to the road which would take us to the base of the mountain. After the Germans bought some snacks, we walked to the taxi station and found a guy who agreed to take us to the village for 10 Ghana Cedis. It seemed expensive till we saw the road we would be traveling on, which was probably the worst I've encountered so far. I would go as far as to describe the "potholes" in this road as small craters. There were times when we were nearly driving through the rice fields bordering the "road." It took about 20 minutes to travel 2 km.

The trip to the falls was well worth it though. The walk wasn't too long, maybe a half hour, and it was through a jungle, the most beautiful area I've ever encountered. I had to back up the group as I was stopping so often to take photographs. I often had to run to catch up with them. I can't even make an attempt to describe the sheer beauty of the forest and the waterfalls, not even photographs will do that job. We sat for an hour just talking and staring at the water of Tagbo Falls crashing mere metres in front of us, the butterflies flitting and fluttering about the vines and trees clinging to the rocks. Our walk back seemed much shorter, likely due to the fact that I wasn't stopping to take photos ever 5 seconds. It was amazing though. Upon returning to the reception area, we met three Canadians, who were soon joined by about 10 others, some from Canada, some from the U.K., some whose accents I couldn't place. We soon left via taxi, but it was nice to talk to someone who actually knows how to pronounce Oregon.

When we got back to the village, we almost immediately found a trotro going back to Ho. We bought some fried yam and were off yet again. The ride back was interesting. We had to switch trotros at one point, and at another, a man and his baby goat boarded the van. I'm getting used to things like that though.

School excursion yesterday. Insane, absolutely insane, but interesting nonetheless. We went to Kakum National Park (walked on the rope bridges... downright breathtaking. There were four connected bridges, each leading to a platform built into a tree. The best view was from the third platform, from which all you can see is a sea of untouched rainforest that stretches out for miles in all directions. Don't worry, I took pictures.) and Elmina Castle at Cape Coast, where they used to keep slaves waiting to be shipped abroad. Completely depressing, but beautiful at the same time. And frustrating, as a few of the girls were being incredibly insensitive, saying things like Are you ready to see what you're people did? It was maddening. Very difficult to hold my tongue and simply say I'm not America. Most of my ancestors are from either Germany or Denmark. I didn't do this.

The drive there was quite a trip. 7 hours in a school bus packed chock full with 65 students. Brings to mind words like words sweat, headache, exhaustion, restlessness, claustrophobia... It was entirely unpleasant. And it made it all the better knowing that after we got off the bus, we'd be getting back on to make the same trip in the other direction in about 4 hours. Eh. But it was really cool, well worth the trip. We got back at about midnight. I had called my host mother at Cape Coast letting her know that I'd be back around that time, that she should just lock the door and I'll use my key when I get home, but she accidentally locked the trap door as well, so I had to wake her up. Luckily, her window is right by the porch, so I literally just had to say her name once (she's a light sleeper) and she was at my aide. I slept so well lats night, slept in to about 8:30 today, then lounged around, worked on a poster on Oregon that I'm making for Olivia's club, then went to the White House (a local bar/restaurant) to get a Malta and write in my journal. I ran into this guy from England (can't remember his name... I feel terrible, as we've talked several times now. It's a really cool name though. His dad's from Turkey, so he was given a Turkish name. I just can't remember what is it.) and we ended up talking for about an hour and a half about politics, Obama, Ghana's tourist destinations, the economy and how it's affecting casinos and the housing sector and stockholders, Ghanaian food, rock climbing... we have a bit in common. And it's fun to talk to someone who watches the news as much as I do.

I'm off to meet Marina and Johannes, then to meet a U.N. head at the White House along with a bunch of other volunteers in Ho. Should be fascinating. I'll try to come back and write about it tomorrow or Friday.

Today is...
finally finding a fellow rock climber.
recooperating.
opening up.
lucky.

Back to routine.

2008-11-08T03:25:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling all better.
In case you were wondering.
And I went to the clinic and switched my anti-malarial medication to doxycycline, so no more Larium. Yay.

School's going well, I switched into Core Maths because I hate the way my Elective Maths teacher teaches. I'll report on Core Maths next week, as i haven't attended a class yet. I just had an objective test in Government, which was quite an experience because in order to save time, both the Arts 2 and Arts 3 classes crammed into the Arts 2 room. This involved moving about 30 extra desks into an already packed classroom, making it completely filled. It was so crowded, the teacher had to stand. I think I did alright on the test, but a lot of the questions were related to things the students had learnt before I joined the class or to Ghanaian government specifically, so I missed a few. Oh well. Better luck next time. I'm really enjoying Economics, which I started to attend just as a spectator because I like teacher and I like economics. He's constantly calling on me to answer questions, explain things, and generally test my knowledge of the field of econs, so it's fun knowing the answers. Thank you, Mr Ainge. I've also decided to listen in on a few of the Geography classes, mainly because the geo teacher is organising a field trip to Cape Coast and the rope bridge, so attend at least one class if I want to go along. Plus, it might be interesting to attend a class or two, just to see how it's taught here. English is frustrating because the English teacher has a really strong accent and talks too fast. When I ask him to slow down, he simply repeats exactly what he just said at the same pace, hoping that I'll get it the second time around. On the other hand, I enjoy the assignments. I just finished writing a debate supporting the launch of a new, religiously unaffiliated, news based radio station which would be broadcast in English and available at all times of the day in Ho. Of course, it's all theoretical, but I do love a good debate.

I've also been involved in an after-school group called Project Citizen, which is a world-wide competition addressing public issues raised by schools. The issues are presented to a board of judges and the winning group receives aid to fix the issue. The Mawuli School branch was founded by my Government teacher, Mr Bedzrah, and involves around 15 to 20 students. We're still debating which issue to focus on, but the group seems to be leaning towards illiteracy in Ghana due to insufficient facilities and funding and the improper disposal of refuse, but other issues include the unavailability of potable water, insufficient health care facilities and hospitals, the oppression of women in society, etc. Today, we vote. I'll let you know in my next blog which issue we settle on.

I made posters advertising my graphic design and photography services, but it's expensive to print and copy them, so I plan on posting them at key places in the town, including my school. I'm still working on getting Saturday/Sunday teaching classes set up for a few neighborhood kids. As far as the teaching goes, Mr Adevu advised against it simply because it would require a rigid schedule, which I don't have. I'm okay with that.

It's not just that I've been really busy lately, I'm also just tired all the time. I wake up at 4:30 every morning, wrap myself in my cloth, fill a pot with water and put it on the stove for my bath, put a smaller pot of water on the fire for morning tea, then wait for them to heat up. When the tea water heats up, I put it in a thermos and set it on the dining table. Then, I go into the bathroom and collect the water bucket, bring it into the kitchen, and pour the water from the pot into the bucket. I carry that to the bathhouse, mix it with cold water from the tap until it's the right temperature and bathe. After drying off, I bring the water bucket back into the kitchen for the kids' water, pour myself a cup of coffee, break some tea bread, and settle down in front of the telly with my journal and a pen for my dose of morning news. I always take notes so that I remember it more clearly. Aljazeera is on MetroTV from 5-6, and CNN is on from 6-6:30. After that, Africa reclaims MetroTV for its local programmes, so I turn it off. At 5:40, I wake the kids and start heating their bathwater, and by 6, they should be in the bathing. Then my host mum helps them dress. The bread lady arrives at about 6:40 every morning, so I go out and get a loaf of bread if we need it. The kids usually reemerge at about 6:45, at which point the news is over, so I prepare their morning tea. They take Milo, which is basically hot chocolate, and bread. Joel likes his bread broken up and placed in the Milo. Obayaa doesn't like bread all that much, so she just takes a little. Then, the kids pack their school bags and are out of the house by 7. My host mum, since she's now employed at a school, also leaves at about that time. I usually leave the house at about 7:30, so I use the time after they leave to dress, pack my bag, and write in my journal. I then walk to school, which takes me about 20 minutes, and stay there till about 3 or 4, usually taking a break when I don't have classes to go to the internet cafe, read my book (I'm reading Moby Dick... an excellent read. I'd definitely recommend it if you haven't read it before.), or write in my journal in the shade of the ancient trees surrounding the school. Thrusdays and Fridays I have Project citizen, so I'm at school until 4:30. Then, I walk home, do whatever assignments I received during the day, help with dinner, take tea, then go to bed at around 8 or 9. It makes for very long, full days, but time's been flying lately, so I'm not complaining.

Boris is in Hohoe this weekend (a town a bit north of here.. pronounced ho hwey) with some German missionaries he met recently at church. They're staying in a hotel, visiting the monkey sanctuary, and exploring the town. He'll be back on Monday for school. He's become involved in an organisation set up by the EP (Evangelical Presbyterian) Church that cares for and entertains kids who are either homeless, orphaned, or whose parents work during the day and therefore can't care for them. They teach them games, play with them and (in Boris' case) teach them French. I don't know what it's called or where it's located, but Boris said he'd take me when they meet next Tuesday. He also said he'd introduce me to his German friends, who I've seen in town before but never spoken to. Apparently, they're really nice and have a good music selection. So maybe I'll bring my ipod and my laptop and we can exchange some tunes.

Today, I have my Project Citizen meeting at 2 (about an hour from now) then I'm meeting with my friend Glory (the girl I met at the hospital) then there's some kind of dance demonstration in the streets at 7. I hope I can see that. If I go to Glory's today, I plan on bringing my camera so I can take pictures of her, her family, and her monkey, Mimi. Mimi's from Nigeria. I held her the other day. It was awesome.

Glory's birthday is on Sunday, and since her family's traveled outside (England, Ireland, America, Belgium, Nigeria, etc.) they know how to celebrate a birthday. So I've prepared a few small gifts for her and we'll celebrate at her house. Should be fun :]

Well, I've been here for a while now and I'm getting tired of sitting (as are you, I'm sure), so I'll end it here. More updates soon.

Today is...
finding the motivation to walk to the internet cafe.
visiting my friend and her monkey.
the end of my lariam nightmare.
peace.

Malaria?

2008-11-01T06:51:00.000-07:00

They won't tell me.

Apparently, my blood tests came back negative, but upon leaving the hospital, I was given anti-malarial drugs and told that sometimes, Malaria can be present, but hidden, in your blood for quite some time. And my symptoms make me question the validity of the blood tests they took.

I went to the hospital tuesday night because I had a temperature, a severe headache, that feeling of pins and needles, and nausea, and by the time I was walking to the car, I was vomiting. We went to the Volta Regional Hospital, a choice I greatly regret at this point due to their neglect and complete lack of seriousness. They were constantly joking around with me, even when I was in severe pain. The toilet facilities were in dire need of not only cleaning, but complete replacement, and I wasn't even provided with drinking water. I was told I had to buy it. And I didn't have any money.

Luckily, I met a girl, about my age, from OLA. A form 3 science student. She had extra water that her uncle had brought her. We got to talking, and ended up exchanging numbers. I'm now invited to her family reunion in December and her Uncle's wedding in January, and we're meeting tomorrow for lunch. It's funny how things work out.

I'm feeling significantly better now, I just need to gradually build up my strength again, a concept that my host family doesn't really seem to understand. Immediately after I returned from the hospital, my host mum sat me down at the kitchen table and placed an array of food and drinks in front of me - biscuits, pineapple, pineapple biscuits, malt, fruit coctail, spaghetti, and so on. I had to practically beg her to let me bathe and change out of the clothes I'd been wearing for the past three days first. I ate a little then went to sleep. That's pretty much the summary of what the past few days have been. This is my first time out of the house.

I'm about to run out of time here though.

Today is...
attempting to avoid the constant questioning.
missing everyone & everything.
sleeping till i can't sleep.
recovering.

A new school, a new outlook.

2008-10-15T07:19:00.000-07:00

I had my first actual class at Mawuli today (the teacher actually showed up!) and left school around 11:30. The elective maths teacher didn't show, but Government was really interesting. My first class and I already feel that I have a better understanding of Ghanaian government. The teacher is very intelligent and it's clear that he's passionate about his subject.

After school, I walked home (via the shortcut a schoolmate taught me... now it only takes me about 20 minutes to go to or fro.), bathed and changed, ate some lunch, and met Boris for a walk past the military barracks. I brought my camera and was able to get some very interesting pictures by straying off the beaten path. On the way, we wandered inside an old, abandoned stone house that had been overtaken by vines. I love places like that. Walking through the remnants of the empty rooms and hallways, I thought about the transience of human life. That house was likely only decades old, yet Nature has already begun to reclaim the stones as her own.

Once I receive the care package Mom sent (thanks again :) , I'll mail back photos, my old school dresses, and some local trinkets and food (the nonperishable kind) so everyone can get a taste of Ghana. I'll have someone in my family post my photos on my photoblog. Sorry about the long delay, but this is really the only way of doing it here.

It's really hot today, even on Ghanaian standards. I think I'll head home soon so I can sit in front of my fan and read.

Today is...
reading Moby Dick.
walking, walking, walking.
finally obtaining a handkerchief.
peace.

And now for a more in-depth post.

2008-10-08T05:42:00.000-07:00

My last post was extremely rushed due to the fact that my laptop was dying. I apologize for the lack of detail.

There's been so much going on lately! I just finished setting up at Mawuli School, which is a very large, mixed (co-ed) senior secondary school near my house. It's a pretty easy walk to the school gates, but I don't like doing it because of the heat... maybe I'll walk in the morning and take a taxi on the way back. Not that the heat isn't killer in the morning as well. It's just slightly less severe.

The school is beautiful. It's old and located, as the Africans say, in the bush. Massive trees keep the entire campus in shade, and there are stone-and-wood skeletons of unfinished buildings scattered amongst the older buildings, giving the school a very rustic feel. In all honesty, the whole place looks like something from the Jungle Book.

The school's administrators and students, however, don't seem to realise this. When asked by the assistant headmaster what I thought of the school, I replied "It's beautiful." He laughed and exchanged glances with my host mum. I think they thought I was joking.

As for my schedule, I'm signed up for three subjects in the General Arts 2 classroom: Government, English, and Elective Maths. Plus, I'm taking PE so that I can play football (soccer). The students seem really nice, much more genuine and welcoming than the OLA students were. I didn't go to classes today because the students were going out the the field to harvest maize. Haha that's Ghana for you.

Next week, my host mum is planning to take me to Dora School so that I can apply for a teaching position in the English Dept. She's also spreading the word about how well I've been teaching Joel, so I might be tutoring a few students in town as well. I've already received a request to tutor two kids who live above OLA. It's too far to walk, but I might be going to Accra soon to look for a bike soon, which would make it a possibility. I'm excited about teaching. I've never really considered it fun before, but here, the kids are so used to the bland teaching methods used at the schools that they perk up when you even draw them a picture. It'll be fun to come up with games and such to integrate into the curriculum.

I've given up my vegetarianism, mostly due to the fact that my family has been putting meat into most of the food, telling me that it's fish. I finally just told them that I didn't really mind eating meat, and they cheered and offered me some of the chicken from the pot. The chicken here is interesting. It's really tough, but they season it so well. I'm learning how to cook more meals every day, which is good because my host mum just got a job at a school outside of town. This means that I'll be cooking lunches for the kids on weekdays, as well as dinners every now and then. So knowing how to cook the basics (rice, spaghetti, cocobre stew, red red, hard-boiled eggs, etc.) will come in handy.

Well, I'm off in search of some cheese and groundnuts, but I'll try to post again soon.

Today is...

pink check and new schoolbooks.
getting out on my own.
waiting for your call.
settling.

2008-10-07T03:53:00.000-07:00

I'm sometimes afraid that I'm losing myself.

I haven't lost myself. I just find myself putting on a false front here, being polite and sweet and formal to please the crowd. I want to give a good image of the U.S. to these people, as I'm the only white person most of them have ever seen. And they're so so religious. I hate to generalise, but here it's almost absolute. Everyone is a Christian or a Catholic or a Muslim here. And everyone want me to convert. I told them I'll go to church with them for the experience, but that I'm firm in my belief of nothing. I think they got the message, but every new person I meet asks me of my religion. I'm at the point where I just feel like lying to people to avoid the uncomfortable religion conversations.

Life is slow, but time is passing by quickly.

I've been reading a dictionary to wile away the hours.

My computer is dying.
I'll post again soon.

Today is...

visiting my new school.
hoping it doesn't rain on my way back from the cafe.
writing writing writing.
gray.

My Backstage Pass

2008-09-27T08:36:00.000-07:00

Today was the finale of the Yam Festival.

I woke up at about 8. Swept my room. Had a cup of coffee. Helped my host mother hand-wash some clothes and hang them on the line outside. For breakfast: rice water with tea leaves and milk.

At about noon, I set off the the Yam Festival with Boris and Phillip and my host mother's cousin, David. David is about 6'5, 350 pounds, and bald. He looks every inch a bodyguard, and he says his nickname is Tulsa, like the town in Oklahoma. I didn't ask why. He wore converse bearing the colors of the Ghanaian flag a matching bandanna, a black shirt, and black pants; he made me feel much more comfortable walking around in the crowd. I asked him if it would be ok for me to take pictures of everything and he just replied "Yeah. You're with me."

We got to the stadium, a big dirt arena surrounded by stands and tents full of people wearing traditional clothing. In the centre of the arena, there were some drummers and two military men. Off to one side was the tent where the town chief sat. Off to the other side was a row of chairs holding various ministers, ambassadors, and presidential candidates. Other than a big news camera and a few people who looked like the press, the arena was completely empty. So it was a bit of a shock to me when David, AKA Tulsa, led me straight through the crowd and into the empty space. I asked him if it was ok for us to be in the stadium, and again his answer was simple and to-the-point.

"Yeah. You're free. Take anything you'd like."

Meaning that I could take pictures of anything that I found interesting. I followed orders immediately. I was able to photograph the chiefs, the drummers, the ministers, the dancers, the prize yams, the military... everything. My camera battery died right after I finished photographing the dancers, and there wasn't much else to take pictures of after that anyway, so I wasn't too bummed. It was really incredible though. Standing in the center of that stadium, taking pictures of things that most people will never see with their own eyes, I felt like I had a backstage pass to Ghana. There were moments during the ceremony that nearly moved me to tears. Plus. I think I was on TV.

Today is...

capturing the heart and soul of Ghana with my camera.
washing my clothes in a bucket on the lawn.
trying to find my balance.
a beginning.

Three Little Birds

2008-09-26T03:49:00.000-07:00

Rise up this mornin',
Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Sit by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:")
Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing is gonna be all right!"

Today is...

warding off the vultures.
a 4 1/2 hour break between classes.
biscuits and PB&J and pineapple juice.
missing you.

Immersion

2008-09-25T01:52:00.000-07:00

I'm realizing the importance of total immersion now.

I've been spending so much time with my host family lately, and barely any time on my own or with Boris. I've been learning so much about them, bonding with them. They gave me an Ewe name. It's Edzani (pronounced Ehdjah-uhnee) and it means beauty. My host mother chose it.

I cooked a full Ghanaian meal the other day. And it actually turned out very well. It's called Slice, and it consists of Yam sliced and boiled, served with a stew made of tomatoes, onions, ground-up, dried herring, and Coco Yam Leaf. All of the vegetables and the Yams and the tomatoes were picked fresh from the garden, and I chopped and sliced and boiled and ground and steamed them on my own. I got a lot of compliments on the meal. And it didn't taste half bad, if you ask me. They keep asking me to cook some American food for them, but I need American ingredients in order to do that. I'm thinking maybe French Toast or Pancakes or some paninis or something, but I don't really know. Any suggestions?

School has been interesting. The subjects are a bit simplistic, and the system seems a little unorganized. Everything that I'm learning in English and Math, I've learned already. In elementary school. Arithmetic, similes and metaphors, multiplication tables, simple algebra... I think this will be a fairly easy school year.

I went to church again last sunday, but we went to a different church this time. It was called E.P. Church, and we went there to witness this ceremony where they basically swear in a bunch of new converts. There were seven pews full of new converts. Seven very packed pews. The ceremony lasted four hours. And it was all in Ewe. I understood maybe six words out of the entire service. It was a trying experience.

After the service, we went to the house belonging to my host mothers adopted mother (my host grandmother) and I learned that my host mom's real mother died when she was six. She was raised by her father. Then, when her father died, a family friend took her under her wing and basically became her mother. The woman was extremely nice and threw a big party for a grandson of hers who was one of the new converts. There was food and talk and much good cheer. It was fun.

This weekend, I'm getting a writing desk. It's funny how things that seem so mundane and practical in the United States can seem like such a luxury when you move to Africa. I'm really excited. I've been doing my homework on the floor.

Next weekend, Uncle is taking me to Keta, a town south of here on the coast. He's going down to do his practicum at a hospital (he's studying to become a pediatrician) and he offered to take me along so I can see the city. It's supposedly really beautiful, and there are some old castles and such, so I'll bring my camera along.

Another possibility that I'm excited about it internet. A friend of my host mother offered to set up internet at the house. He would charge us, but my host mom seems interested, and it's not too expensive. If I could have internet at the house, I'd be able to iChat with people for free, I could upload my photos, and college applications would be a breeze. I really hope this happens. I'll keep everyone posted.

Well, I'd better return to school for English. I'll post again soon.

Edzani

Today is...
finally getting in contact with a bunch of people i've been meaning to get in contact with.
being brave for myself.
waiting for your call.
living.

A man, a woman, and a really big stick.

2008-09-20T08:49:00.000-07:00

Strange thing happened yesterday. After school, I met up with Boris and Ben and we started to walk back to my house. We were walking down a small street when a man approached us and said something incomprehensible. He then stumbled past us, putting his hand to his head as he did. It was then that I noticed that this man was bleeding profusely from a giant gash in his forehead. His hand, his head, his hair, and his shirt were covered in his blood. Shocked, I watched as he tipped over a table, causing the goods that had previously been sitting on that table to crash to the ground. At this point, we all sensed that it was our time to vacate the premises. Ben ushered us forwards. We met up with Ben's uncle, who runs a food stand near the road. I asked him what was going on, and he casually explained that the man and his wife, who was still yelling at him from the other side of the street, had been fighting. Ben's uncle pointed to the ground near the stand, where a pile of sticks had been dropped.

"She hit him in the head with a stick." Ben seemed to accept this as a normal event and suggested we continue. He didn't bring it up again.

I also think it's worth mentioning that my 10-year-old sister, Abaea, brought a machete to school the other day. Her and every other kid at her school. They will continue to bring machetes to school for the remainder of their schooling. It's required. They use them to cut the grass around the school.

School has been interesting. It's long, about 8 1/2 hours every week day. I talked to Mr. Adevu about dropping a few unneccessary classes (Agriculture, Biology, Textiles, and Picturemaking) and he said that was a good idea. Seeing as I've basically already graduated, I don't think it's best for me to take 10 subjects here.

The big event in town right now is the Yam Festival. It's to celebrate the first harvest of the new yam. It started yesterday with the cheif of Ho praying for rain by the side of the road. It rained for a little while, then miraculously stopped before the parade started. The parade consisted of hundreds of people marching through the streets dancing and running and skipping and rollerblading and carrying yams on their heads, going in a giant circle though the city. They continued to parade until about midnight. This was quite entertaining, as most of the men were dressed in women's clothing. I asked Ben why and he replied It's tradition! That's Ghana for you. There was also a huge gathering in a field on the other side of town, where there was more dancing and more singing and more drumming and more celebrating. Everyone was so happy. Everyone still is. The festival will continue for some time.

I'd better go though. I've been at the internet cafe for about 2 hours now. Peace.

Today is...

finally sleeping past 7 o'clock.

another day for missing everything.

dust in my contacts.

sitting.

The Little Things

2008-09-15T10:27:00.000-07:00

When you live a "privileged" life (materialistically anyway), you forget to appreciate the little things. Like hot water. Air Conditioning. Reliable phone service. Free, high-speed, wireless internet that is available basically anywhere. ATMs. Electric stoves. Microwaves. Satellite television. Reliable electricity.

These are things that I constantly take for granted in the United States. What I forget is that very few people in this world have access to all of these things.

I don't really miss them. I like them. And when I return to the U.S., I'll appreciate them a thousandfold, but I don't feel lost or empty in their absence. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I feel more complete. I wake up at about 6 the morning to the sound of a rooster crowing outside my bedroom window, climb out of bed, put in my contacts, walk to the bathroom and take a cold "bucket shower" (which consists of running tap water into a bucket and dumping it over yourself), then dress and walk into the kitchen and help my host mom prepare porridge, or tea and bread. After eating, I sit with Joel and Abaea and watch Ghanaian cartoons or play Go Fish. At 6:40, I take a taxi to school, which consists of sitting in one classroom all day with the other Visual Arts Students while teachers of various subjects cycle through. We don't get bored because we talk about art and school and Ghana and the U.S., comparing and contrasting and singing and laughing and exchanging stories. After school, I take a taxi home, change out of my uniform, and either hang out at home or walk to Boris' house or to an internet cafe. I eat when I'm hungry, I sleep when I'm tired. I talk and I laugh and I walk.

It's a simpler life here. But I enjoy it.

I don't want to give the impression that this country is completely innocent though. It is corrupt in its own way. For example, unless I argue and bargain, I pay a "Yevu Tax." Yevu, in Ewe, means "white person." Taxi drivers, shop owners, food sellers, etc. will douple or triple their prices for foreigners, so bargaining is key. In addition, basically every electronic here is a counterfeit. Boris was trying to buy an ipod the other day, and all the ipods in the case were imitations, though the shop owner was determined to convince us otherwise. I'm in the market for a phone. Wish me luck.

I apologise for the large time gap between blogs. The days are short here (it gets dark at about 6 every night, all year long) and curfews are tight. I've been told not to be out past 8 o'clock, which I protested to at first (in my head... I 've been very respectful to my host parents) but soon realized was likely for my own good. I walked Boris to the street last night when he took a taxi home, and even the short walk back to my house, at about 8:30, made me uneasy. I'll try to post more often, but with school and meals and family time, I'm not sure it'll be possible. Next time I post, I'll try to add some pictures... Internet is extremely slow here though, so I can't make any promises. I'll eventually mail back a flash drive full of photos for everyone's viewing pleasure.

To answer some questions...

Yes, I do eat with my hand. Only the right one.
No, I don't wear make-up. No one here does.
No, it's not hot all the time. It's been cloudy and rainy and warm today, but not hot.
Yes, I have attended church with my family.
No, I don't intend to become religious.
Yes, laundry is done by hand here. It is then hung on clotheslines either outside or inside.
No, I haven't seen elephants, giraffes, lions, tigers, or gazelles. I have seen two monkeys.
Yes, I do have my own room and my own bed, complete with a mosquito net.
Yes, I have been bitten by mosquitos.
Yes, I'm terrified that I have malaria already.

Oftentimes, I get sad. I get homesick. I want to walk outside, hop on the trotro back to Accra, and take the first plane back to the U.S. I want to get out of Ghana as fast as I possibly can.

But then, I think of what I've experienced so far and what grand adventures I have waiting for me in the coming months and I think of how lucky I am to be here. Speaking with my Ghanaian classmates, most of them have not ventured outside of Ghana. The majority of them never will. I have a lifetime of traveling ahead of me, and this is the beginning of my adventure.

It's hard being alone.
I miss my family.
I miss my friends.
I miss my home.

But I'm making another home for myself.
It's the strangest thing I've ever experienced. But its also one of the most wonderful.

We'll keep in touch.
I love all of you.

Today is...

finally making some female friends.
completely unpredictable weather.
waiting, waiting, waiting.
incredible.

A cold shower.

2008-09-08T05:15:00.000-07:00

That's what this experience has been so far. A cold shower. Both figuratively and literally. Things are so radically different here.

Accra is insane. There are very few stoplights, and where there are stoplights, they are completely ignored. People simply pull out into the intersections and wait for cars to pass so they can get through. There are no pedestrian crossing areas, so people simply walk across the highways. Most of the time, there are no lanes, so people honk when going around corners to warn oncoming traffic. It's crazy. Despite being fairly poor, it's very beautiful. Most of the buildings here are very old and falling apart, or they are being put in and are under construction. There are street-side markets everywhere and they are extremely colorful and they are busy. I love them. People walk up to our bus and try to sell us q-tips and screwdrivers and fufu and jesus paintings and sunglasses. It's very strange.

The wildlife here is strange as well. There are large black birds with white chests (I think they're magpies?) and there are bright blue lizards with brown heads and orange and white and black tails and there are little brown pigeons. Palm trees and cacti and magnolia trees and mangroves grow on the sides of roads. Stray dogs and cats and goats roam the streets.

There are other little things that I'm slowly growing accustomed to. Drinking water comes in small plastic bags. You bite the corner of the bag and suck the water out. And when you do, you appreciate it greatly because it's extremely hot and humid here and I am nearly always sweating. Today it isn't so bad, it's probably 70 degrees and it's cloudy. Showers are always cold. That's nice too. The power goes out a lot. People don't wear makeup here, I haven't put any on since I arrived. Food is incredibly spicy. And nothing is ever on time. I've spent most of my time here waiting for one thing or another. It's kinda nice. Things are much more relaxed, much less structured. I don't ever feel rushed.

So far, I've been to a beach, I've been to the city, and I've been to the ghetto. I went to church, which was fascinating. Tomorrow, I meet my host family. I'm psyched.

This post has no pictures because I'm not using my laptop so I can't upload photos and internet photos don't do this place justice. I'll get my laptop up and running later.

This is so incredibly bizarre. And it's absolutely amazing. I have no money right now, so I'm living by AFS right now. They've been providing food and such. At the hostel, it's me and three other people from the United States (who accompanied me from Newark to London to Accra), five people from Belgium (two of whom are Flemish, the other three are extremely French), and one girl from Sweden. We've all learned a little Twi and have all recieved new names according to the day of the week on which we were born and my name is Asokua, because I was born on Sunday. It's really awesome. I love it. I'll try to get back on the internet again tomorrow, when I get to Ho. Till then, Maaha.

City Lights

2008-09-04T11:34:00.001-07:00

I flew into New York on Tuesday, and we've spent the last two days undergoing a barrage of training, activities, etc, etc, etc. Lovely, interesting things. I've gotten a few good tips and bits of information, but the thing I've loved most is the company. I've met so many driven, fascinating people. I really plan to keep in contact with some of them.

Leaving is finally feeling real, mainly because it seems as though AFS is bent on making it impossible for anything to go wrong. Someone loses their baggage, AFS finds it. Someone doesn't have a visa, AFS gets it. Someone doesn't have a hotel room, AFS finds one. They're persistent. I love it.

Meeting people that are going to Turkey and Italy and Spain and Portugal and South Africa and being one of 4 people that are going to Ghana makes me feel like an alien here. People are emailing their host parents and talking to their siblings on Skype... I can't even call my family on their house phone without the connection failing. I feel out of touch. In Kristy's words, I feel as though I'm jumping into a black hole. It's terrifying and completely foreign, yet I can't help but be drawn into it.

This next 24 hours is going to be hell.
8 hour flight to London.
4 hour layover.
6 hour flight to Accra (which I finally learned how to pronounce correctly..)
2 hour bus ride to Ho? (not sure if my family is picking me up.)

I just want to be home. Wherever home might be.

I want to unpack.
I want to sleep in a bed that I can call my own.
I want a hug.

I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss Portland.
But this is my adventure.
I'm ready.

Today is...

checking out.
watching the office in the ballroom.
waiting.
waiting.
waiting.

Same day, more collected.

2008-09-01T21:53:00.000-07:00

I'm better now. I'm not completely ready to go mentally, but I'm physically set. My bags are packed, I'm ready to go. I went and visited Kristy for the evening, which was really fun. I saw Matt and Bayeaux, Kristy and I ate soup and talked, and we went to Manzana for dessert. I was able to relax and vent and cry and reason. It was wonderful.

I'm going to miss them a lot.

I also found out that both of my bags are under the weight limits, so I don't have to cut back on packing. They were each only about 3 pounds under, so I got pretty lucky :)

I can't wait to leave. I'm psyched. This is great.

Today is...

finally realizing that I can do this.
wishing I had realized this sooner.
cracking creme brulee with a spoon.
happy.

Last day.

2008-09-01T09:01:00.001-07:00

I can't imagine a stranger feeling. Tomorrow, I'm leaving everything behind and venturing into the complete unknown. I don't know what my house looks like, I don't know what my town looks like, I don't even know what my family looks like. I could be going to the moon, for all I know. And I'll be there for ten months. I'm in shock.

This is my last monday.
My last full day.
My last 24 hours.

I'm actually brought to tears by the fact. I'm sitting on my floor, listening to Explosions in the Sky and staring at my possessions, my little piece of my current life that I get to bring with me to the moon, sprawled out like they would be on any other day. Crying.

This is too weird.

I need to think this through a bit more. Maybe I'll post again later.

Today is...

a crushing wave of nostalgia.
coming into focus.
a lack of regret.
paradoxical.

I don't want this day to end.

2008-08-30T00:55:00.001-07:00

Today has been amazing. I went out and photographed a field and an abandoned barn with a friend of mine. He'll probably read this later. I don't think he knows yet what a profound impact he's made on me. I feel so inspired to immerse myself in what I love. Photography. Music. Travel. Life. And today, I got the opportunity to talk about some of the things that mean the most to me. It was just amazing. In the words of Lou Reed;

Oh it's such a perfect day,
I'm glad I spent it with you.
Oh such a perfect day,
You just keep me hanging on,
You just keep me hanging on.

Hope you see this.

Mom and I went out shopping for a suitcase this morning, but to no avail. Better luck tomorrow? We'll see.

Might go see a play tomorrow, might go see Jasmine, might go to the Mcgees. Might see Kaipo? It'll be good, regardless. I only have three more days left here before I embark on my epic adventure, so I'm determined to make them as full of life and art and music and love as I possibly can.

I've listened to each of my Explosions in the Sky CDs twice in a row now. They are so beyond amazing, I can't find words for them. I want this to be the soundtrack of my life from this point forward.

I don't know what's ahead of me. But it is, and will always be. It is my future and my present and my past. And I embrace it with an open heart. Let it be.

Today is...

finding out what I'm all about.
thinking about the future.
exploring past & present.
more than i could asked for.

Next Tuesday

2008-08-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

I leave next tuesday. Next Tuesday. Which means that this friday is the last friday I'll spend in the United States of America for ten months. It also means that this is my last weekend in the US, and that every time I see someone might just be the last time. I've been getting a lot of big hugs and sincere words lately. It's been nice.

I have to start packing. I have to start packing. I have to start packing.

It's something I've been putting off for far too long, and if I want to see any of my friends this weekend, I should probably just get it done with.

IN FACT...

I'm starting now.

Ciao.

Today is...

being thankful that I have a bed to sleep on.
another "indie weather" day.
buying luggage.
hope.

What a relief.

2008-08-24T22:54:00.000-07:00

My dad and I went shopping today. I got nearly everything on my list. And a few things that weren't. Including neon orange converse && a sweet headband. Awesome, I know. The only things remaining on my list are:

Film (Color 135 & B&W 135)
A tripod
A carry-on bag that fits size restrictions

That's all for updates. More tomorrow.

Today is...

Sleeping on the couch.
A strange day to say goodbye.
A feeling of accomplishment.
Impatience.

And just like that, she was swept up by the wind and carried away.

2008-08-23T11:08:00.015-07:00

This is all a bit over my head. I finished packing all of my clothes and medications for the trip, found a bag that works, and made a list of things that I still need to pick up at the store. Most of it is just little stuff now, a mirror, pens, some makeup, etc. And tomorrow, I'm heading out to seattle to pick up my passport, my vaccination card, and all my other travel stuff that I left at dad's. I ordered a pair of pretty sweet glasses, along with two more boxes of contacts.

Things are going pretty smoothly, but I'm still incredibly overwhelmed. Mom is moving, so we've been spending the past few days packing all of our possessions into boxes, labeling them, and putting them out in the garage. Today, the movers came over and are packing all of it into their massive truck. Mom said that most of my stuff is going into storage, which is just a tad depressing. It's just that everything that belongs to me is being put in some dusty corner. I won't have an empty room in either house to remind my family that I'm gone. I feel as though nothing is going to stop them from forgetting about me. I feel the same way about my friends. I'm sure it's completely in my head, but I just can't shake the feeling that I won't be missed.

mhfjhgpf'z,. I'm stresssssed.

I get to see everyone today though. So I'll be ok in a few hours. I hope. For now, I'll tough it out. At least it's a nice day.

Today is...

one of very few days left.
over-thinking.
a ball of stress.
in motion.

Check.

2008-08-22T01:18:00.009-07:00

Clothes shopping is officially done. I bought a dress and a watch today. I have all the clothes I need now.

It feels pretty good do be done with that. But I still have a ton of things that need to be done before I leave. I think it's down to 11 days now? So crazy. It seems like yesterday that the number was up in the twenties.

I'm growing more and more excited to leave, and more and more detached from life here as the days go on. Yeah, I'm going to miss it all like crazy, but I've accepted that nothing is going to be the same over there. I don't care that it's going to be 100 degrees every day, I don't care that I won't always have internet or a phone, I don't care that things will be a bit less luxurious. This whole thing is going to be incredibly mind-altering. I will be exposed to a completely different perspective of life, and I just think that's so beautiful.

Tomorrow we start moving into our new home in Lake Oswego. I'm excited. I plan to bring my camera. It's strange, even though I'll only live there for a week before I leave for Ghana, even though I've only been inside once, that little house feels like more of a home to me than has any other house I've lived in for the past few years. Upon my return to the U.S., I plan to live there for the summer, then throughout my first year of college at least. Until I can afford to rent an apartment in Portland. Which might be a while.

Oh, I also bought a journal today. And gifts for my host family. Just little things. A photo book of Oregon. A Powell's Books shirt. I think I'll pick up some little hard candies or something for the kids. Maybe a mixed tape of some local music. A coffee mug. I don't know. I'll figure out the rest. But it felt good to find some stuff.

Well, I'm a little restless tonight, and I'm having a bit of a tough time focusing on writing, so I'm going to stop here. 11 days! Two more, and it'll be single digits. I can't wait.

Today is...

the start of a new era of actually being on time for things. maybe.
much better than yesterday.
open for suggestions.
restlessness.

44 Pounds is not a lot.

2008-08-20T20:36:00.009-07:00

I went shopping with my mom today and picked out a skirt, a shirt, a pair of sandals, and a few bras. I also went through the clothes I already own and picked out what I want to bring. What I ended up with:

A brown dress
A black & white skirt
A pair of jeans
7 shirts
A blue sweater
A hat I stole from a friend
7 pairs underwear
7 pairs socks
1 pair soccer socks
2 swimsuits (1 two-piece, 1 one-piece)
A necklace
A pair of leather sandals
A pair of beat-up gray converse
A pair of tennis shoes
A pair of soccer shoes
A pair of red flats
A pair of capris
3 bras
A pair of green leggings
A white blouse
A tan, self-altered dress
A gray headband

Looking at this list and at the pile on my floor, I realize two things: (1)This clothes has to last me ten months. Given, I'll buy some clothes while I'm over there. But I don't have much money. I buy too many cameras. And (2)This clothes will take up a very large portion of my 44 pound limit. Which is quite a drag, because I still have to pack all my camera stuff, all my gadgets, all my travel gear, all my school stuff... SJgrg'/mFNub?Fo]. This is stressful.

Added to the stress of packing is the stress of moving. Mom's moving to Lake Oswego, into this adorable little first-edition, white cottage. It's fun in theory, but we have to put everything in boxes by saturday. That two days. And that's a lot of stuff. Packing seems to be my life lately.

I ended up getting a little sleep last night. Which likely means that I won't get any tonight. Luckily, I have a ton of stuff to do. I don't think I'll get bored. To be completely honest though. I wish I had more people to talk to at this hour. I've been getting a bit lonely these days. I guess I'm feeling a little alienated, what with me leaving. I'm sure it's just my mind messing with me. But a spot of conversation wouldn't hurt.

Today is...

spending too much money
black & white
a sore neck
quiet

Approaching 48 hours without sleep

2008-08-19T17:13:00.022-07:00

I failed in the sleeping department last night, and tonight isn't looking so great either. I've been having odd abdominal pains on the right side of my body for the past couple hours. And I still am not tired. I want so badly to not be stressed about this. To be able to lie in bed and actually have the need and desire to close my eyes and drift off into dreamland. But for whatever reason, the energizer bunny in my head keeps marching and drumming, marching and drumming...

If this is how my body handles stress here, how much worse is it going to be in Ghana when my sleep schedule is off, my family is thousands of miles away, and I'm worrying about impressing and being polite to my host family? Ugh. I'm going to think of something else.

I've been making lists like a madwoman lately. Lists for phone numbers, lists for addresses, lists for what to pack, lists for what to buy, what to do, where to go... All of them are sprawled out on the living room floor right now, and each of them have only a small spattering of X's on them. Tomorrow (later today?) will be a major shopping day. We plan to go to Powells, REI, Macy's, Blue Moon, Fred Meyer, Goodwill, Fossil, and this vintage glasses shop in Portland. We'll see how much of that we actually end up accomplishing.

I sent an email to Jocelyn (my adviser) earlier today regarding hotel accommodations in New York, as well as baggage stuff. I found out I can only have one checked bag and one carry on bag. I'm hoping I can also bring my messanger bag and a backpack. We'll see how that goes.

One thing that I've been trying to avoid thinking about is how much I'm going to miss everyone and everything when I leave. Coffee and crosswords with Mom, my daily talks with Casy, my voyages into Banks, hopping from house to house and using Subway's phone and bathroom, scarf season in Portland, going to shows at the Crystal Ballroom, movies at Livingroom Theatres, first thursdays at random art galleries. I'll miss wheat fields covered in snow and Austin playing the drums and John's thought tangents. I'm going to miss watching Dad run marathons. Kellie, I'm going to miss your singing, and how you always tell me I'm amazing, even if I'm not. I'll miss hangin out with my sisters. I'll miss Scrubs and The Office. I'll miss 94.7. I can't believe I have to go ten months without all these things. I know that it's all a part of the experience. But it seems so unnatural to give up all that I've ever known. I suppose time will tell. And right now, time is telling me I should be in bed. I'm not listening to time though. I don't feel like staring at the ceiling for an hour.

Instead, I believe I'll search for some good music. That's always relaxing and fun, and at the moment, I think that's what I need.

Today is:

figuring out what people are all about
learning my way around the darkroom
loving my little holga
nostalgic

When does this start feeling real?

2008-08-19T00:49:00.000-07:00

I leave for Ghana in two weeks. 14 days. When it was a month, it still seemed so far off, but now it seems like it's approaching too quickly. I haven't packed. I don't even have luggage. I need to find my passport, write out address and email lists, find my tripod, buy clothes, learn a language, make a slideshow, buy gifts, say my goodbyes... I haven't made contact with my host family (I sent them a letter yesterday. Hoping to receive something from them before I leave.) yet, so I still feel a little alone in my endeavor. A little overwhelmed.

Don't get me wrong, I'm off-my-rocker excited, I just hate preparing for things like this, because there really is no way to prepare yourself. This is something unlike everything I've done in my entire life. I feel utterly unaware of what's waiting for me in Ghana.

For the record, I'll go through what I do know. Ghana is an Oregon-sized African nation bordered by Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, and Togo. It's split up into regions, which have capitals and are basically like states. I'm going to Ho, capital of the Volta Region. Ho is known for its hospital, its market, and its yam festival. It is lesser known for a tiny bar I discovered in one of the first photos I saw of Ho, the name of which is Happy Yourself Spot. Hence the name of the blog. I also know the weather forcast is basically hot and humid for the next couple decades. I'll be arriving in Ghana during the rainy season, which, despite what you might assume, does not mean "the cold season."

And there are monkeys! Little mona monkeys. And tiny black goats. Haha I am going to have a field day with my cameras when I get there.

But not right away. I get the feeling that after two days of traveling with about zero hours of sleep, I'm going to just want to crash for a day. Or two. Or three. I don't normally get terrible jet lag, but with all the changes I'll be going through, I imagine my body will be shutting down upon my arrival at my new home.

This is going to be an incredible journey. I can't wait.

This is me being impatient:

How can I wait 14 more days?

Today is:

talking to casy about everything
walking flash in the rain
stress-induced insomnia
blending with tomorrow