Mallory Goes to Ghana!

from my Grinnell dorm room...

2010-01-03T19:39:00.000-08:00

So it's been a little while since my last post, a little while where a lot of big things have happened, including my return to the US, reuniting with family and friends, Christmas, moving back to Grinnell, rejoining my basketball team, and of course the beginning of 2010. Woah.

As far as my transition back goes, I surprisingly don't have much to say. The drive home from the airport brought to mind significant differences. I actually commented outloud that there were no potholes, no people running up to my window trying to sell me toilet paper or plantains, and there was no frenzy of honking horns. But these things didn't come as a shock to me, I hadn't forgotten what America was like, just experienced something totally different for a couple months. In a lot of ways, it was like I never left. I came back to the same messy room, got in the same stupid little fights with my sisters, and found myself planted in front of the tv watching What Not to Wear.

Some things were refreshing though, like my first glass of cold milk, or the hot shower I probably spent way too long in. I still remember how to drive and of course found the Christmas cookies much to my delight in the basement freezer. Not a lot has changed back home though. And as far as me, I don't really know either. I do know I went to Target on my second day back and spent something like $50 on new clothes or something non-essential and found myself feeling guilty, either that I was being somewhat materialistic in America's novelties I was choosing to enjoy, or the fact that I had seen such poverty and non privilege and had come back seemingly unscathed by it. But I suppose the fact that it registered means something.

Leah, Kate, Lindsay, Hilary, and I at the club into which we snuck on our last night out in Ghana, and Mommy and I a couple of days before I left.

To say that I have different priorities is probably going too far, but I notice myself sitting back in conversations I was once so consumed by and being more open to the unique things that make people who they are, rather than judging them for it.

Like I said in a previous post, it is hard for me to interject my time in Ghana into my life in America. Looking around my dorm room right now I see several signs that I was in Ghana, an African print bag and a wooden table. And there are definitely reminders I was not here, including the fact that I neglected to ensure I was placed in the classes I want for next semester (resulting in temporarily losing full time student status) and catching up on all the happenings of my absence. But to think that a year ago I had just signed up to go on this trip, and then now finding it behind me just doesn't seem real.

When I first got back I think I had the wrong attitude about talking about my experience. I didn't want to say too much, probably for fear of boring people who didn't actually care, or simply just not knowing what to say at all. How do you summarize four months of your life unlike any other? But I think I have now developed a renewed sense of optimism in mankind, and I just assume people do care. And when people have questions, and they fortunately often do, I answer them with no pompous, holier than thou attitude, but just sharing what my brief look into Ghana granted me to know.

Friends Emma, Meg, and I at a party they threw me at school, and my family and I in Chicago last week.

I was given the opportunity of a lifetime and I took it. So when people ask if anybody in Ghana spoke English, instead of laughing and saying of course, I say yes, it was a British colony until 1957. A year ago I wouldn't have known that, and it doesn't make me any better than anybody else that I know now. But I see it as my responsibility, after seeing the stereotyped "third-world" to tell it how it really is.

And of course I miss Ghana a lot. I miss just walking around the red clay roads and having everybody say hi to me, the hustle and bustle of trotros, the spicy food that often had me sweating by the time I'd taken three bites, and just waking up knowing that I would see something new everyday. Oh yea, and I would love to go outside and not have to wear three layers of clothing right now.

As far as the blog goes, it has definitely had its repercussions. Some people reading about themselves who didn't know they were being blogged about, or people bringing up something I forgot I blogged about. But for having the opportunity that so many others never had and never will, I think it was a good way to spread the word about the real Africa, not what one sees on tv or ignorantly assumes to be true. So, I am glad too that I chose to blog about my "adventures".

And I think I will take this opportunity to thank all of you and everyone else who cares but doesn't have time to read my epic entries. Especially to my parents who often read something they wished they hadn't and followed my life through the Internet instead of in person or even over the phone. I should thank them too for allowing me to even go at all. I know the media doesn't place the best light on Africa as a whole, and to ship off your daughter for four months in general has got to be a little scary. So to put their woes aside and support me in a life-changing experience I will never forget is definitely something that deserves appreciation. So thank you.

I guess this means good-bye for "Mallory Goes to Ghana". It's been fun.

Thanks for reading,

Mal

P.S. I hope you enjoy this.

I'm Home!!!

2009-12-14T13:25:00.001-08:00

4 days left

2009-12-09T05:32:00.000-08:00

I had a really cool video here but it was taking too long to load:(

I am feeling a lot of pressure while writing this post. It will likely be my last post written in Ghana and thus I feel obliged to attach words to all the confusing feelings inside me, and share a bunch of profound knowledge I have gained in my four months abroad. Besides all the talk of reverse culture shock and being depressed after going abroad, I'm still interested to see how I've changed. It's easy to see that here I live a different life, but which of the changes in lifestyle stick to me permanently, and how my outlook on my American life will change once I am re-inserted back into it will tell me more about myself. It's also difficult to evaluate this experience in itself; it has without a doubt been unlike any other, but I've struggled to see it as a part of my life, rather than a brief vacation from it. More on this later.

The last couple weeks have been a whirlwind of craziness. Ten friends and I spent five days traveling to Togo and Benin, collecting passport stamps, feeling helpless in francophone West Africa, and trying to get the most out of each precious day we have left here. I have no idea what we would have done without Kate and Ezra, my two friends most fluent in French; the rest of us tried our hands with 'bonjour' and 'merci,' but when it came to important things like border crossing and procuring food, we would not have survived our little trip without them. We rode around on moped taxis (called zemi-johns...please see video above), went to voodoo villages, visited the slave walk in Ouidah, the famous stilt village in Ganvie, explored capital cities Lome (Togo) and Porto Novo (Benin) and had a generally good time munching on baguettes, croissants, and consuming as much 'fromage' as possible. We tried to evaluate along the way the differences in development among the countries, and their receptiveness to foreigners, all tests I feel we didn't find definitive answers to, but were lucky to even get the chance to see the variation among West African countries.

We had to sneak Julie back into Ghana, she forgot her yellow fever vaccination card in Accra, and with the outbreak in Benin, Ghana was demanding them at the border, but what would traveling be if not for some drama? I was happy to be able to communicate with people once back in Ghana, though we had a brief scare of our bags escaping our trotro before we'd left Afloa. The back hatch wasn't shut all the way and after hitting one of many potholes, I looked out the back window and saw my backpack laying in the street a hundred feet back. We look and some other bags are missing as well. My friend Lissy jumped out and started running to find hers when a taxi pulls up with a schoolgirl who said she had been chasing us with Lissy's bag for miles. Oh, good Samaritans. What would we do without them?

I was back in Accra for less than 48 hours, just enough time to do some quick washing, take a final exam (my third of fourth) and then we were back on the road, this time heading west to Green Turtle Lodge, a remote little eco-friendly establishment on the beach near Agona; quite the hassle to get to, but it sure was worth it. We slept on tents on the beach, ate delicious food, battled the waves (including playing a ridiculous game Ezra made up called Kwame Nkrumah Ball), and generally relaxed for some of our last days in Ghana.

I have my last final exam Saturday morning at 7:30, and my flight leaves around 11:30 at night, officially making it the longest day ever, but until then I have packing, studying, cleaning, and unfortunately many good-byes. Four months ago I said bye to my real family, life-long friends, and the country I grew up in, knowing I would see them all again in due time. This is totally different. I became a part of a new family and learned a Ghanaian culture, adapting to it so quickly. But when I leave, there are no guarantees I will see them again. And for my fellow American friends from my program, we were all thrown into situations so unfamiliar and overwhelming, that we forced to depend on each other so much for comfort and to talk to about the perceptions and emotions always rolling around in our heads that only each other would understand. And just like that, I hop on a plane, and I'm back to my old life? There's no words to describe all these feelings.

If I used this next paragraph to relay my long list of things I look forward to at home it would likely never end: family, friends, food, cold, mattresses with springs, driving, debit cards...I think I'll stop myself.

I've been staring at the screen for awhile now and I don't know what to write next. Whether this chapter in my life coming to a close for you means a joyful reunion or a teary good-bye, it's on its way.

As always, thanks for reading!

Mal

i have been THERE

2009-11-23T02:53:00.000-08:00

Hair crisis= resolved. I sat in a salon as people came in and out, stopping a moment to laugh at the state of my hair, and conversing with my poor hairdresser in Twi. She told me she had never seen anything like this before, and spent three tireless hours poking at my chunk of hair with a needle, chopping, pulling, washing, steaming, mayonnaise-ing, and even blow dried and curled it to show me it had some life left to it. When we were finally done, through my pathetic tears, I told her, 'you saved my hair...' to which she sat down for a much needed break.

My sympathetic friends waited for me to transcend the trauma of my hair disaster before we set out for Ada Foah, a trip modeled after our others friends', and one not very researched by myself. A couple of trotros, a walk through a small town led by our elementary tour guide who skipped out of his futbol game to lead us to the river, and trip down the river on the Maranatha Beach Camp boat, led us to a beautiful stretch of beach. At first we were a little confused, when after checking into our huts, complete with a bed covered with a mosquito net, and a chair, oh and a light that didn't work, we looked beyond the sand to what? another beach. Yes the Volta River was on one side, and the Atlantic Ocean (Gulf of Guinea) on the other.

For the next three days, we woke up by no alarms, ordered breakfast (each of our meals took over an hour and we were one of two sets of guests, despite the over 25 huts,) read our books, spent two hours on the ocean side roasting our oburoni bodies, moved to the river-side to the shade of the palms, went out to our bath (in the river) around 4, changed, ordered dinner and several Stars, and found our beds by phone flashlight. It occurred to me sometimes while we waited for our food how our lives were completely in the "hotel" owner's hands, when to finally decide to cook our ordered food, and when the boat would be available to take us back to civilization. Also as we laid out on the beach staring at the endless stars one night, I pondered if I had ever seen complete darkness before, that is of course except moon and stars, no artificial light brought by mankind. We walked to the estuary on our last night, where the river flows into the ocean, the culmination of the two beaches into one. Not only was the sight beautiful, but also quite mind-boggling. And when looking at a map of the world, I can point to an exact spot and say I have been there. Mostly when you point to a map, the scale is so off you could be many miles from where you actually mean to be referring, but here on the corner where land ends, and two waters begin, I have been THERE. I don't know if I can say that about any other place I've been to. Other interesting stories of that trip include sitting down to watch the sunset on the beach and being distracted by a dead goat being thrown into the water by what seemed a ten year old, and men from the village squatting on the sand, using the beach as their toilet; we were also taken on a midnight boat cruise by a very intoxicated man named "Small Paul" who worked for the beach camp, and his sober friend "Big John" who met us with the boat, bringing us chocolate and Cardinal. I also didn't wear shoes from Tuesday evening til Friday afternoon. I don't know when I have ever gone barefoot for three days before.

I took my first final on Saturday afternoon, not much to tell there. I didn't study too much and it was really easy, probably will be my easiest, given the amount of reading (or lack thereof) I have done for my other classes. Leah, Hilary, Lindsay and I went out for a great meal Saturday night with Ama to a place called Melting Moments in Osu, deliciously international and reasonably priced. We then went to Epo which has came a favorite bar/nightclub spot for us. We ordered a beer tower and had very interesting conversation for hours before meeting other friends and making plans for a South American reunion in five years.

We went to Tantra to get burgers, I held off as I had already eaten two dinners (Akua forced one on me at home,) but the walk there was a little more eventful than we had hoped. Admittedly slightly inebriated, we were walking down the street when a taxi drove up to us slowly with men hooting and hollering at the sight of us, one reached out and grabbed my butt to which I jumped away and yelled at him not to touch me (my friends said it was good it was me as I have the biggest aversion to being touched by strangers and thus the most profound reactions). Then there came some words of sexual harassment on their part, some vulgarity on ours, Hilary kicking their car, and them driving off. This whole time they had been blocking a good part of the street and their were cars on the other. So as the harassers drove off and we were regaining our calm, I heard squeals and saw my friends jumping out of the way of the green car heading directly toward me. All I saw was the bright green of the vehicle and the headlights shining right at me as I jumped over the always dangerous sewage gutter and looked at its rear end as it sped off after nearly taking my life. I turned around and Hilary who was directly in front of me had a scared look on her face and tears in her eyes as if she expected to see me on the ground when she turned around instead of standing before her, and then reached out and hugged me. I kept thinking about this the rest of the walk, as did my friends as they kept hugging me and making me walk farthest from the street. I thought about if I would envision those headlights again. And as close as I came to surely dying if I hadn't jumped out of the way, Lindsay had said earlier that she heard it was impossible to die in dreams, that you always wake up right before because our sub-conscious doesn't know how it feels to die, so it wouldn't let us. I had no nightmare about the headlights though.

I went to the Cultural Center yesterday in my quest to wrap up the saga of gift and souvenir buying. It was more frustrating then usual, and as I wanted to buy a painting from a guy who started off at 85 cedi, (I eventually paid 10) I was filled with disdain for the process of bargaining, and I longed for my walking into Meijer in three weeks time and paying the price on the sticker, no questions asked. There's lots more to see in my short bit of time left here though. On Thursday, Lindsay and I are going to Captain's village to see where he grew up and still has a home. It's not too far away up the mountains, and we will make it home for CIEE Thanksgiving dinner on campus. I suppose it will be a good semblance of home, but nothing compares to watching Dad carve the turkey, and smelling Mom's corn casserole on my plate.

We decided Cote d'Ivoire would be a no go, and we cut out Togo from our last trip, so we decided to spend next week traveling about Togo and Benin, both West African coastal countries to our east. I have three more weeks, three more finals, and then I'll be home. It's really strange all the sudden feeling like I haven't done enough in Ghana, and being excited and scared to go home all at the same time. There are Christmas wreaths hanging on the side of the Accra Mall, but looking at them while sweating and fighting the sun just to see them doesn't feel quite right. I'll be home for Christmas!

Thanks for reading,

Mal

GUEST BLOGGERS!!!! plus monkeys, waterfalls, and a hair crisis

2009-11-16T04:35:00.000-08:00

Right now I am in the middle of a hair crisis. Last night was a saga of friends coming and going helping in the seven hour ordeal to take out my braids, lots of muffled laughter on their parts, and heart-wrenching sounds of hair breaking along the way. Still tangled after my first hair washing in three weeks, I put it in a bun and finally laid to rest at 2 am. My plan was to go the gym and take a hot shower and sort out my mess of tangled locks; little did I know this would only make things worse as I messed it all up with shampoo and then left conditioner in while I basked in the steaming water. Two hours and a couple tears later I sit writing this with 70% of my hair matted into fat chunks. I bought some stuff from MaxMart which may or may not help, so don't be surprised if I come home with MUCH shorter hair...

This past weekend we traveled with CIEE to the Volta Region to visit a monkey sanctuary where I literally fed bananas to monkeys out of my hand, holding the end as they intelligently peeled it, grabbed the edible part, and ran away. There was tons of them too. We also went to the Wli Falls, the largest waterfall in West Africa where we backed ourselves in underneath the falls, getting pelted with falling water and finally holding onto the wall behind, hardly able to open my eyes as I worked up the courage to head back to shore. BREATHTAKING. Pictures to come...sorry.

I had my last class last week, finished up my internship with SISS, including an overwhelming trip to the slums, and bought tons of fabric at Medina to have clothes made before I leave Ghana (gasp) in four weeks. I'll be home in less than a month but until then my friends and I have planned trips to Ada, where the Volta River flows into the Atlantic (tomorrow through Friday) including a quick pop into Togo, and Green Turtle, a resort past Takoradi (the last week we are here,) and the word is still out on whether or not we will make it to Cote D'voire. My dad didn't didn't seem to keen on that idea given the US travel warning on the country, but we looked it up and it seems the government has control over the southern region, while rebels lie in the North. We would also be going the day of their highly anticipated elections...we will see.

But, finally getting to the highlight of this post....my guest bloggers!!! They are none other than my parents who came to visit for five days weekend before last. I was amazed how much they saw, as is evidenced in the over 300 pictures my mom has posted links to below, and my ability to stick to an itinerary, usually a task appointed to dear old dad. They were definitely a treat to have, spoiling me for the duration of their visit with air conditioned hotels and fancy meals, but really truly, everyone they met had a real appreciation for their enthusiasm and gumption to make a whirlwind extended weekend trip to Africa to see yours truly. I know my experience has thus far been life changing to say the least, and I only hope they got a little bit of the same during their brief stay.

I have no complaints on their blogging either, including most of the highlights (conveniently leaving out our getting detained at the American Embassy,) but also keeping to my style (note the end 'thanks for reading')! You've made me proud rents!

Here begins "Dad and Mom go to Ghana!"

Well we've never written a blog entry before and Mallory's content and style will be a hard act to follow, but here goes. Also, this is written by one person for two so the pronouns may get a little confusing, but anyways....oh, and by the way, yes this is a little long. But from what we hear, there are more readers that don't mind (and in fact enjoy) the long blog entries, but for those of you that want a short version, you can read the next and only the next paragraph.

To answer the first question everybody asks when you come back from a trip, "How was it?", we would say "fantastic!!", immediately. (End of short version).

Then, knowing the primary reason for our trip, to see our middle baby we haven't seen in 3 months, "How was Mal?" She is doing great!! Boy, we are so lucky that she has a host family to live with, and then how fortunate for her (and us) to be living with Mommy and Captain, who are such special people-- truly creating a home away from home for Mal and her roommate Lindsay. It is clear Mal has had the benefit a good friend, Ama, who has helped her acclimate to Ghana, and to add the resident perspective that Mal has gained through her experience there. How comforting it would have been for us to have made this trip 2 or 3 weeks into her stay to ease our minds, as we saw a very safe environment, non threatening in many ways. And a supportive environment as well, through the base of relationships she has made: host-family, Ghanaian friends, and fellow U.S. students-- everywhere she spends her time.

Dinner on last night at Imperial Peking Chinese restaurant. Back row: Mallory, Michael, Maureen, Lindsay, Ema, Ama, Middle row: Evans, Akua, seated: Captain, Mommy

And Mal knows so much of the way of life and living in Accra. I feel sorry for each taxi driver that has to negotiate fares with her, (quote of the trip, as said to an unsuspecting taxi driver after our bus ride back from Cape Coast: "15 Cedi to get from the bus station to East Legon! No way -- we shouldn't pay more than 5! Everybody out!"). We got back in after Mal closed the deal at 8 Cedi and after the driver looked at Dad reaching for help(?) and all that could be said, "sorry, she's the boss-she lives here." It was a little awkward ride after that, we remember the driver telling us "she's a good talker" somewhere in there. Like Meg in Brussels, Mal knows her way around the city. I guess we just didn't think that our kids would be showing us around foreign cities and countries in Europe and Africa like they did!

And what a great friend base Mal has that we met, from Ama (our city of Accra tour guide), a tenant of Captain and Mommy, Miss Beatrice, the basket weaver instructor, the seamstress lady the SISS staff and internship group, Mr. Assante, Naa, and others, the students there and the many students from the CIEE Study Abroad program.

We had no idea that so many people were looking forward to our visit! Miss Beatrice made Michael a hat and Maureen a basket handbag. Two student girls at SISS cried when they hugged Maureen as they "got a mommy hug" and it made them homesick for their own parents. Mommy and Captain served us a fabulous dinner of fish, jellof (spicy rice with beef) and kelewele (pan-fried and seasoned plantain chunks) our first night. That dinner was followed by a fun filled event at a nearby street side bar, "Jerry's", where about 12 of Mallory's friends came to meet us, all getting momma hugs and handshakes/man/dad-hugs in the process. What a great bunch of young women and men! All getting the same fabulous experience of studying abroad in Ghana, Africa for a semester. We had a blast getting to know them, talking about their experiences and travel and then seeing them again throughout our visit. Jerry's a nice guy, too-- we'll see if he pulls off serving them a turkey dinner for Thanksgiving.

But a visit to Ghana begs many other questions to be answered with regard to the geography, culture and people we experienced in our brief 5 day visit, from the crowded, impoverished city of Accra to the villages, lush jungle and rain forest of Kakum, the gorgeous palm lined coast of Cape Coast, and the unsettling tour of Elmina Castle, home of the slave trade in Ghana. And then of course, comparing and contrasting what we saw and learned to what we knew and have seen from our own life experiences and travels. It really was a lot to comprehend and make sense of. It is a different world.

The three of us on the canopy walk

Continually seeing predominately women carrying baskets and bowls and pots of most anything on their heads, and often times with babies strapped to their backs, we were often reminded of the role these strong women play in this society. Picture taking became an activity that seemed natural for us at first as we saw people living and behaving in ways so different from what we knew, to one where we found ourselves being sensitive and discrete, and backing off aggressively capturing people simply existing in a place that we had never encountered before. And given the poverty we saw immediately upon our arrival, and throughout our travels which brought sadness, by the end of our trip we realized that while seeing a strikingly different way of life, these people knew no other, and were happy as a result.

The color/race issue we are so familiar with in the US appears to not exist in an all black society such as Ghana's. Often we would look around (as at Chez Afrique during some after dinner dancing), and note that we were the only white people around. But it didn't matter. We blended right in as evidenced by the locals inviting us to dance with them.

Here Mallory is dancing with a local while he shouts, "Snap me dancing! Snap me!" ("Snap", of course, means "take picture").

Sometimes we even felt that we were given superior, preferential treatment due to our color, as tour guides talked to large groups while looking the three of us right in the eye, hmmm.

Then comes, "how was the food?". The food was awesome, really good--spicy, but not too spicy, and good flavors-- a lot of flavor. Had a lot of jellof, plantains, chicken, beef, calamari, squid, shito (sauce you get with jellof) also banku (it's like a big ball of dough made from cassava and maize flour you eat with your hands while dipping in stew or with fish- tastes ok, but we weren't big fans), tilapia, snapper, sole, grouper.

The last question, "Would you go back to Africa?". We think we've found a new world to explore. We'll have to work on that.

To see all pictures from our trip, click here (Part 1) and here (Part 2).

Thanks for reading,

Mike and Maureen

Saaa??

2009-11-02T06:35:00.000-08:00

the "interesting" list

-people hiss at you to get your attention, foreigner or not
-the three big cell phone companies MTN, Tigo, and Vodafone seemingly own the country; everywhere you look something is sponsored by them and their logos painted onto every little shanty store
-if a street even has a name, there is very rarely a sign; directions are given by landmarks
-people are kinda obsessed with Obama; there are still giant posters and billboards from his visit in July, and they even sell Obama biscuits with his picture on the wrapper
-women carry their babies on their backs, with a yard of fabric securing them in place; it is not uncommon to sit next to a woman and her baby, still tied onto her back, in the back of a taxi
-American country music is oddly popular, not necessarily current songs however
-it is customary to greet people wherever you go, passerbys on the street, as soon as you enter a room, when you get into a taxi, usually with "good (morning, afternoon, or evening)"
-Lindsay and I eat by ourselves each night for dinner at the kitchen table, everybody else eats whenever they want to, and outside or around the tv
-there are speed bumps everywhere, which aren't really necessary because the roads are riddled with potholes preventing fast driving anyway
-it is not uncommon for people to burn their trash
-mattresses are made out of foam and not springs
-policeman wear blue and carry around giant guns on their backs
-little shops along the road are almost always named for some proverb or religious phrase such as "God is Great Tires", "Praise the Holy One Fast Food", "Do Not Sin Drinking Place"
-men pee whenever and wherever they want to
-egg sandwiches are very common and hot dogs are called sausages
-there are sewer trenches along many streets that you must be careful to avoid falling into
-girls don't shave their legs, but both men and women shave their armpits
-most men keep their pinky fingernails long, if not all of their nails; i have heard rumors of a Ghanaian proverb about long nails making one wise
-women get fake toenails sometimes, like women would get fake fingernails in America
-you don't pump your own gas at the gas station; there is an attendant
-taxis and trotros often have bible verses written along the back window
-"Friends" airs on Viasat 1 every weeknight at 8:30; Mommy has figured out that we like it and changes the channel to "our channel" when it is coming on, it used to be Bernie Mac, the Cosby Show, Friends, then CSI Miami every night but I think they have changed it
-Ghanaians love to say "sorry" when anything unfortunate happens, even when it is not their fault; I usually trip at least once a day and someone will tell me "sorry," or I will drop my pen..."sorry"
-when someone arrives somewhere they are told "you are welcome"
-people often ask if things are nice- "was your food nice?" "how was kumasi, was it nice?" "was school nice today?"
-when you leave somewhere or pass by, people say "go and come," basically meanings 'see you later'
-soda is mostly sold in bottles, usually the only three you can find are coke, fanta, and sprite
-plantain chips and groundnuts are the snacks of choice, plantain chips are thinly fried slices of plantains, lightly salted, and groundnuts are just peanuts
-each day members of my family wake up at 5am and start sweeping and random neighbors come to get water from the well right outside my window
-the drinking age is 18, but nobody is ever really carded
obviously there are many more interesting things

short synopsis of current events:
- Treza's 21st on Friday, her family threw her a little party, including cake, bar-hopping afterward
- pool on Saturday, sunburn:(
- Halloween! I was pepper, a Ghanaian food, along with banku (Hillary) and tilapia (Lindsay), some other friends were FanIce, and schoolboys wearing brown and orange like the public school kids; we hung out on campus and then went to a club that was having a Halloween party, none of us really got that many strange looks from natives, very fun and late night
- Sunday I cleaned my room, including mopping the floor and cleaning the ceiling fan:)
- I picked up dresses from the seamstress, I don't think she understands the body type of white women, there is much too room in the butt
- I read the Autobiography of Malcolm X for my English class and learned so much from it, other books I have read this semester include Sula by Toni Morrision, the Autobiography of Joe Appiah, and Water for Elephants...reading is becoming fun again for me:)
- my friend Matt who passed out in the bus home from Kumasi was rumored to have malaria and then some weird strain of ear infection, bounced around hospitals all last week getting brain scans and not being given water, but I guess he's fine now
- my parents are coming to visit Thursday through Tuesday, everyone is excited!
- one of my finals got changed to the day I leave, December 12th :( I now have one final on four consecutive weekends :(
sorry to be so choppy...
thanks for reading
Mal

stories...

2009-10-26T06:56:00.000-07:00

I have not posted in a while, I am so sorry, but there are so many things happening I can only afford to spend so many minutes on a computer. It is really starting to hit me how little time I have left here. Yesterday was the start of week 12, which means only 7 weeks left, only three weeks of classes. My parents are coming to visit a week from Thursday! I am so excited to show them my life here, and I know already it will be eery when they make comparisons to the US or point out things that are different that have become so natural to me. I have started making a list of differences that I will post later this week, because I feel like I tried to come in with so few expectations that obvious oddities I adapted to very quickly.

I have no idea why it won't let me un-bold and de-underline that paragraph.

Since I last posted many interesting things have happened. The Ghana U-20 soccer team won the FIFA U-20 world cup, the first African country to ever do so. The game was held in Egypt no less, and what a game it was, going into extra minutes and a penalty shoot-out before the underdog Ghana stole the crown from Brazil. Everyone who lives in my house was crowded around the tv, (except for Mommy who couldn’t stand to watch haha) very anxious and on edge. Everyone danced and went crazy screaming when we won; I went out onto the main street and people were parading around blowing into horns and singing. Cars were driving especially fast, flashing their lights, and honking their horns. I saw on the news people tried to get a national holiday out of the win, but President Mills rejected that idea; the team’s homecoming at the airport was quite the event though.

We had a sleepover at our house last weekend, drank and played card games, watching movies, and then woke up and made French toast and banana pancakes, so American, and so wonderful. I spent last Sunday at the Shangri-La Hotel laying out by their pool which was absolutely amazing, a giant pool, with comfy lounge chairs and umbrellas, elaborate landscaping, wonderful! We got home and there was a power outage, which would later continue for 3 days. Apparently there was a fire at the power substation and power was out all over Accra, (everyone here calls it ‘lights out’ even though it’s all electricity). I never realized how dependent on my ceiling fan I was until those nights without it, and my family life was quite the bore without the tv to laugh over. I did help Evans with his homework once last week, he was learning alphabetical order and learning what proper nouns were. I still talk much much much too fast for him to have any chance at understanding me, but Captain sometimes interprets. He is only in the fourth grade, and most of the time kids have no reason to speak English until they begin schooling, so he is still just beginning.

Tuesday I taught my class at SISS. I wrote previously I would be presenting on the topic of “social perceptiveness.” I had an elaborate power point all prepared, and was very bummed when the power continued to be out, and I thought I would have to present without it. But I got there a little early and found a laptop that had barely enough battery left to let me present that way. There were about 25 people there for my program, brought in from the Agbloboshie Slum for job-training sessions, aged from about 18-30. As soon as I said my name they all started laughing, and I knew I had already began speaking way too quickly. Things went well after that, people seemed intrigued as I gave definitions and examples, introduced terminology and showed pictures. Some of the themes I talked about, like not judging someone from their looks, or being ignorant to someone’s feelings, seemed juvenile, but I added in some psychology and gave examples from my own life and in turn asked for theirs to start discussion. Three or four people gave very relevant stories about thinking someone was honest because they dressed nice and then getting scammed or making a friend out of someone people gossiped about. The founder of my NGO, Mr. Asante, sat in and translated every once in a while as well as urged them to pay attention to the valuable lessons I was teaching. In closing, I spoke about my experiences so far of being an obvious white outsider in Ghana, and my aversion to being called “oboruni” and “Akosua”, and one girl said she had never even thought about the way it might make foreigners feel to be constantly pointed out as different. I left feeling on top of the world, that I could put into educational terms basic morals learned from youth and bring a global perspective to these people’s lives.

My gym membership is going splendidly, I have my trips there down to a science, it is a 15 minute walk to get there, and sometimes I walk home at night feeling invincible after my workout, yet to prove problematic. I know some of the trainers and talk to them while on the elliptical or attend the classes with my friends…great fun!

Last week I went to campus and later Club EPO in Osu for a friend’s birthday and ended up staying out really late, but getting cake, ice cream, and champagne for free! We found some noodle stand stumbling around outside and ate delicious Asian noodles at 2:30 in the morning before taking a taxi home. It maybe was not the best night to go out as the next morning I was waking up at 5:30 to get my hair braided…

Ama took me to her own salon in Asylum Down, where for what was probably the four most miserable hours of my life, six girls stood all around me braiding my hair, complete with weave-ons that come pretty close to my natural color, definitely a little red though. I became very claustrophobic as they were each pulling my hair in a different direction, getting it very tight and neat. There were so many times I thought it had to be done soon, as I sat trying not to squirm as I scrunched up my face in pain. Ama later said that I took it like a champ, that any Ghanaian woman would have complained about it hurting and got up to take a break or push aside the hair out of their face whenever they wanted. My immediate reaction upon looking in the mirror was one of terror. I thought I looked absolutely ridiculous, but the salon girls and other customers kept lauding the look on me, as many Ghanaians have since. They trimmed all the loose ends from the braids and stuck them in extremely hot water to make them smoother. My hair (including about 80% of which are not my own God-given strands) is soooo heavy and thick; noting that I have very thin hair to begin with, one might appreciate the reference that I only have to wrap a hair-tie around my ponytail ONCE for it to decently hold. It has begun to itch a lot lately, but it’s not permanent and when else in my life would I ever get it done? It’s kinda fun to whip around and not have to wash haha, oh and it cost only 23 cedi, about $17 dollars.

Friday morning we left bright and early for Kumasi. Once loading the bus, “my” hair received lots of attention from my program members including questions and random fingers feeling the braids, but the five hour bumpy journey was mostly uneventful. We stayed at Treasure Land Hotel, which was very nice, I had a full bed and Annie and I pumped the AC like we were polar bears for the duration of our three day stay. Events for the weekend included a tour of the Manhyia Palace Museum, headquarters of the Ashanti tribe, once one of the most powerful tribes in West Africa. We also went to the Central Market, the largest open-air market in West Africa. We were only allotted 45 minutes there as per our itinerary so we mostly just walked around trying not to get lost and quickly replying hello to everyone who saw white girls walking past their stalls. Saturday we went to two different villages, one to witness and try out adenkra stamping, the dye for which is made of wood chips pounded and put on fire. We also went to a kente weaving village, Bonwire, the famous cloth woven by the Ashanti people. I of course bought some souvenirs, as always buying beautiful things that I will have the hardest of times giving away as gifts.

We had lunch at Lake Bosomtwe; our bus got stuck in the mud on our drive through a forest to get there, so we had to take a little canoe ride down the shore to meet it after having backed through what one might call a jungle. The lake was beautiful, and a shame we didn’t do something more adventurous than just eat there. The food was delicious and plentiful, and we did hear a brief history of the lake, the largest natural lake in West Africa.

After a little nap during which my roommate hopped a random tro-tro to a liquor stand, I showered and then watched CNN sipping vodka and pineapple juice with my friends…lovely. We went out to a Chinese restaurant for dinner, and got to order for ourselves, good company, good food, good evening. Our table finished first so we told Abena we were looking for FanIce and went speed walking around the hills of Kumasi at night making fools of ourselves. We were then taken to an outside bar with live music post-dinner, it was good reggae and we all got up and danced; my friend Max stole the mike and was singing Bob Marley like no one knew he could. I got lots of rest in my luxurious bed, not even setting an alarm as we weren’t leaving the next day til noon. On the ride home, a guy in my program kept passing out and was feeling very ill, so Abena left with him in a taxi to find a hospital. Last I heard he was hooked up to iv’s in a rural hospital, maybe due to dehydration? We are not sure yet.

I had a paper to write (and turn in) this morning, and I’m playing basketball after I press “post”.

I think that hits the highlights! The pictures are of the central market, me getting my hair done, then stamping some cloth, Kate, me Annie, Leah, Lindsay, and Treza at Lake Bosomtwe, and Ama and I at Bojo a few weeks back.

Thanks for reading!

Keeping things interesting...

2009-10-12T06:48:00.000-07:00

The last couple weeks have been filled with thievery, heartache, hilarity, and overall many interesting events! Yesterday marked the halfway point in my program, and it seems to have flown by and taken forever all at the same. But not very many of the following things would have happened in America, so I'm taking it all in stride and living in Ghana!

Many of these events are unrelated and in no particular order, so read it as you would bullet points, I am sorry.

Lindsay came home from school one day and thought she had money missing from her desk drawer. I went through all the obvious questions, are you sure you didn't spend it? drop it? etc. etc. So to prove she wasn't crazy, I counted her money she left at home before leaving for school the next day, and counted my own in my drawer as well, and went to school; we lock our side house each day and put the keys on the kitchen table of the main house, so we don't lose them, or be inconvenienced by coming home at different times. We came home that day and she had 20 more cedi missing and I had $50 missing. We told Mommy, and she had no suspicions of anyone in the house, and kept saying this was a disgrace. Akua, Evans, Ema, Ama, Bridget, Mommy, Lindsay, and I sat awkwardly watching tv that night for a good two hours, with Lindsay and I playing a game of clue in our heads, trying to figure it all out. Captain came home and was livid, getting angry at Mommy for allowing so many people into our house; their is a constant flow of friends, relatives, and visitors. Our program directors got involved, and relations in the house were tense and awkward for a couple days. Ema wanted to go see someone who performed black magic to tell us who stole the money, saying they could not trust each other or even themselves until the mystery was solved. I had watched a similar "African lie detector test" as I called it, on a Nigerian soap opera, where everyone sits around a fire and and something bites your wrist if you lie. None of them had ever gone, but it was all arranged for our visit, before our directors quickly shot down the idea. Mr. Gyasi said they had to have our locks changed and give keys to both of us so we can take them with us, but almost ten days later this hasn't happened. It still erks me a bit to know that someone I see everyday snuck into our house, and searched my room for money, and that $50 is no small amount here or anywhere. Life goes on.

I may have mentioned earlier that my host mom used to make batik fabrics, tie and dye, and stamping to make a living, before her asthma got too severe for the fumes. She always touted that people would be coming over to do the stamping during our stay, with all the equipment (some tables and a crock over a fire) in our yard. Last week it happened! I came home and beautiful fabrics were being created in front of my eyes. The fabrics started out plain white and were dipped into dye overnight, dried on the line the next day, and then stamped with scorching hot candle wax on foam designs that evening. I took lots of pictures and they even let me try the stamping. I was pretty good.

Last week, some friends and I went to Osu, probably the most touristy place in all of Ghana, to find this salad bar we had read about. The transportation there was a hassle and questionable whether or not the salad was worth it...but an experience. That night, Lindsay noticed a hole in her backpack. And I just said, oh that sucks. The next day I found three holes in my backpack, and knew it was no coincidence, especially given the shape of the holes, clearly made by the slashing of a knife. Nothing was lost, thank god, especially since one of the cuts was in the smaller pocket of my backpack, where money, keys, or my flash drive could have fallen through. I sewed up the holes in my beloved backpack all by myself. I guess it was kinda scary to think that could have happened without our noticing, but we learned from it I guess. My backpack has several stains and smells terrible from its close proximity to my body the better part of most days, so I'll probably be needing a new one come Christmas anyway.

I started basket-weaving last week with some friends. Miss Beatrice is the goddess of weaving and has been helping oborunis to weave for years now. A short tro-tro ride away through beautiful parts of campus I've never seen before, and we were basket weaving outside of her house, and with the help of her children, Dominique, Paul, and Michael, who had clearly been weaving for years. We all have to start on tiny baskets, and then work our way up to larger ones, or even hats. My friend Levi has been working on a picnic basket! Time flew by as we sat there concentrating on each move of our fingers. When we needed a new piece of twine, one of the kids would help us, and like experts work on our baskets a little bit, doing in two minutes what would take us twenty. It was a lot of fun and my measly basket is coming along great; I'm going back tomorrow!

I am joining a gym. Running has gotten a little boring and I as I am still on my basketball team's email mailing list, I hear all about their plans of lifting and working out, and thus for my third month, I will be a member of Pippa's Gym in East Legon. It is where I took my yoga class a couple weeks back, and last week I went to tae-bo with my 7 day free trial membership. It was so much fun, kicking, punching, and getting a real workout with someone who pushed me. I was a little embarrassed that I felt so sore the next day, but I'll definitely hit that class up again. I ran there the other day to see how much a membership was, and some kids along the way started running alongside me. It was so cute to see their short little selves keeping up next to me. I broke into a sprint to mess them up and they all yelled and started chasing me. I was nearly there, and so stopped running and one of them asked me if I was tired. As sweat was pouring off of my body I said yes, and then waved goodbye to chants of "oburoni bye bye". So cute.

Ama, Lindsay, and I went to the movies. It was an eery experience as the theater was nicer than most in America, and located in the Accra Mall I had yet to go to...also very modern. There was next to no one in the theater, where we saw "Fame", (I'm pretty sure the showings are about a month behind America's). The movie was good, the popcorn was better, and it was a great relapse into feeling American. It was Ama's first ever trip to a movie theater, and in my opinion she is one of the more Westernized Ghanaians I have encountered. Going to the movies is not the same cherished pastime here as it is back home.

Something that has been noticed by many friends in my program is the different outlook on weight and obesity in Ghana. A handful of friends have had their host parents or even CIEE personnel comment on their weight gain or loss since being in Ghana, without thought to the consequences of their remarks. I remember the first couple weeks I was here, Ama flat out told me "you are fat, just like me." This insensitivity to the subject has led to noticeable changes in eating patterns, rapid weight loss, and the joining of gyms by people in my program. It is scary to watch and try to intervene, especially in a country apparently ignorant to the existence of eating disorders, and the lack of knowledge about how to handle such conversations, or the avoidance of, to host families or people organizing our stays.

Weekend before last, Mommy and her friend Aunty Lydia (who is Julie's host mom) took us to a funeral near Cape Coast. We had to leave at 5:30 in the morning to begin our tumultous journey, Aunty Lydia is an absolutely crazy driver, which coupled with endless potholes and other slightly less crazy drivers, made for an interesting journey. They had to go the bathroom about halfway there and were surprised we did not also get out to "wee-wee" as they called it. We also had to stop every ten minutes for the last hour and ask if we were going the right way. I missed Mapquest and my family's beloved Nuvi GPS. The deceased was the brother of one of their church friends, so after we made an appearance with that friend, Mommy and Aunty Lydia were divas of the funeral and wanted to go chill in the reception house while the actual funeral happened. We were a little disappointed, wanted the full experience, especially after our three hour trek, so we went back to the village, and sat for part of the funeral. I was a little worried about the dead body being displayed out in the heat, shielded only by a thin canopy. The preacher went on yelling in Twi, and various family members left their seats crying out and approaching the deceased. Nobody seemed to mind our presence, Aunty Lydia encouraged us to take pictures; I took a few though felt very out of place amidst the grieving family. All of the sadness soon ended as we left and were hounded by village children pulling at my clothes and asking if I knew Obama or had ever eaten rice. We skipped the actual burial, attended the reception where the three of us white girls were served first. Apparently the reception is only for out of towners, and on our way out of town we passed by the actual funeral again, where dancing and singing was going on, having a great time remembering the life of the deceased. I got a really cool bottle opener with his face on it as a souvenir, but sadly I don't think I got the whole experience. Oh, everyone wears black and red to funerals, or white and black if the person was very old. I'm sure there are many details I have forgotten.

Saturday Ama and her friend Pearl took Linsday, Julie, and I to Bojo Beach; we snuck in jellof, chicken, and eggs, which I enjoyed. They had never been there before and did not enjoy laying out as we white people did, but rolled around in the sad and looked for shells, (Ama is going to incorporate them into her jewelery making). I was very proud of my sunscreen application skills, I came home and was only burnt on my lower legs and my neck. I got some reading and relaxing done there; it was a great day.

Yesterday Lindsay and I went to church with Adua, someone else I may or may not have mentioned is living in our house. Her church was in the upstairs conference room of a hotel, where they are great fans of blasting air conditioning, and giant speakers (common throughout Ghana) were placed around the room. Unlike Mommy's church consisting of bible readings and simple choir singing and dancing, here a preacher went to the front and forcefully spoke the word of the Lord as it came to him for three hours, as church-goers cried out and rose their hands, at times laughing and others crying. At one point everyone flooded to the front where the preacher took oil on his palm and pushed the foreheads of the congregation, pushing them over at times, while men stood behind to catch them. Much of the time I sheepishly fought the urge to cover my ears as the volume was turned up so loud and I shivered like never before in Africa, but it was, like everything else, a great experience. The walk home in scorching heat felt good for once, and I relaxed and did some laundry the rest of the day.

Sometime since my last post, I played basketball again, this time some games of pickup with Ezra, Kyle, and Hilary versus some Ghanaians. Everyone else quickly picked up the short guys wearing flip-flops, leaving me with the 6'5" guy in Jordans. He flattered me by complimenting my defense on him, and luckily his teammates did not discover the lob pass until after we had already won a game. On my way out, I saw him dunking and realized he was clearly playing down to our level, but it was so much fun to play with such an interesting mix of people. Female basketball players are not all too common here and after our game, a girl asked if I played professionally. I was once again flattered as I started laughing, but she asked for my phone number, so there is more basketball here in my future. Shoutout to my team back home who starts practice on Thursday!!!!!

I have also adopted a new favorite phrase of "please don't touch me". I have learned to deal with the constant calls of "oburoni" and "akosua", sometimes choosing to ignore the person calling after me, depending mostly on their age and proximity. But while walking in crowds or even just down the street and strangers grab my arms, I lose it and bring out my phrase. My friends think it is hilarious, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Julie has also developed a way to deal with taxi drivers who always think white people need a ride and come honking after us. She just stares at them as they make hand gestures or ask where we are going, wasting their time as we pretend to be mute. It's quite hilarious.

I'm sure there is much more to tell as my posting has become rather infrequent, but everything is good and I'm keeping things interesting!! I hear tales of snow back in the American midwest, and pictures of friends in hats and scarves, making me wonder when fall became winter? I hope everyone is well:)

Thanks for reading!

XOXO

Mal

Excuse me sir, your chicken seems to be sliding.....

2009-09-29T02:41:00.000-07:00

I have been putting off writing this post for a couple of reasons. A) The events of last weekend's trip to Mole are pretty much indescribable, to put it into words would really not do it justice. Over 4 days, we traveled a total of 37 hours, and saw many different regions of Ghana, including by far the most undeveloped parts I have seen thus far. B) When we got back, some of my friends got malaria, and were told everyone who went up north probably had it also. So I spent most of the week evaluating my health. On top of that, I think I am getting side effects from my malaria medication; I wrote before about the weird dreams, but it is also known to cause anxiety and depression. I also got really homesick toward the end of the week; my sister went to Belgium this summer for 7 weeks, and last week was my 7th week, so I thought a lot about how great it would have been to see my family at that point:( ..........but alas, I am writing this post now. It is VERY long, so if you don't want to read it, you can skip to the end and click on the link to PICTURES!!!!!!

Mole weekend started out with Captain dropping off Lindsay and I at Opongalo Junction at 3:30 in the morning Friday. We met up with Treza, Kate, Leah, Julie, and Hilary, who would be joining us on our journey, and waited for a tro-tro or taxi. After about five minutes, none had passed, but this random guy with an SUV offered a ride, so to start things off right, we said ok and jumped in. Yes, I realized then and now looking back this was probably a terrible decision, but it turned out he worked for Coconut Grove, the hotel where orientation was held, and dropped us successfully at the STC Bus Station in Accra. We were planning on taking the 6:30am bus to Kumasi, but the 4:30 hadn't left, so we got on. Coincidentally, another group of our friends were on the same bus; they were going to a Jewish village west of Kumasi to celebrate Rosh Hashanah. The bus was very nice and air-conditioned; we complained about the cold, but later realized just how fortunate we were. Nigerian soaps and Christian revivals played on the tv, at times preventing sleep, but overall a good first 7 hour leg of our trip.

Once we reached Kumasi, we found out no more STC busses were leaving that day to Tamale, so we found a taxi to the MetroMass bus station. Acquiring tickets was absolute chaos, basically throwing money at this woman nonchalantly drinking coconut water behind a booth window while pushing angry Ghanaians, all the while standing in the midday heat. We then waited first in line for the bus to open. Once it did, this lady tried to cut in front of us and while jockeying for position I slammed her into the door and she shouted at me that she was there first. I spun around and said "Are you kidding me?" It was kinda the talk of the next 30 minutes, people think they can just take advantage of the white people...not me. haha. It was probably not wise to get on first though, because we waited for 45 minutes for people get settled: that is to say, bring on board their live chickens and place them under our feet, and arrange their huge bags of rice properly in the aisle and perch themselves and their children on top of them. This bus was was totally crammed packed and not air conditioned. Thus, in that 7 hour trek from Kumasi to Tamale, we all became hot, sweaty, dusty, undernourished messes. Oh, I should maybe add in now that throughout the trip we bought loaves of bread from women on the street and dumped them into our jar of peanut butter for a great number of our meals.

We finally got to Tamale around 8pm Friday night. Stepping off the bus into complete darkness, I didn't know what we'd gotten ourselves into as taxi drivers surrounded us asking where we were going and besides the name of our hostel, we really had no idea or direction around this strange city. But we took two taxis to the Catholic Guest House, which I would highly recommend, it was only 7 cedi each and we only had to complain three times the water wasn't working before the guy started the pump, but the fans worked and so did the shower head! not hot water though. We ate at this great restaurant down the street and contemplated how we would get to Larabanga, (the town outside Mole National Park) the following morning. But when the guy came to fix our water that night, he conveniently brought along this man, Frederick, heading to Larabanga the next morning, with an open 15 seat van.

Frederick was not a very good businessman, first telling us it would cost 100 cedi, which we were by no means going to pay, but then said for a MetroMass bus to Larabanga it would cost 3 cedi each. Hmmm, 3x7=21 Frederick, will we pay you 100? NO. I thought this was hilarious and bargained with the guy; we ended up agreeing on 30, which after the MetroMass experience earlier that day, we were willing to pay a little extra to avoid another.

So, we get up at 6 the next morning, (sleep was a luxury we could not afford this trip) and met Frederick. We sprawled out comfortably in the van, stopped for some water, and enjoyed the first hour of this three hour trek napping and reading with a cool breeze coming through the windows. Then, the van broke down. Frederick kept trying to start it, but apparently the clutch was broken and he couldn't get it back into first. So we had the idea that if we all got out and pushed until it got to a speed suitable for second gear, we could all hop in and it would be fine. So we all got out and pushed, thinking this was quite funny, taking pictures, and laughing. It didn't work though, so Frederick called a mechanic back in Tamale to come fix it. Frederick thought we should move the van back around the curve so he would see us, so I got in the driver seat and steered it around the curve, while everyone else was pushing, I guess you could say it was driving in Ghana:)

We ended up being stranded on the side of the road for three hours, telling riddles, peeing behind bushes, putting on sunscreen, drinking water, and overall enjoying the mishap. It should have only taken the guy 1 hour to get there but as time went on, we got hot and so got back in the shade of the van, then got claustrophobic, and we moved in and out. When we started to doubt the existence of this phantom mechanic supposedly coming to our rescue, we starting digging up cannibalism survival stories from the back of our minds, including the Donner Party from the Oregon Trail times, and the South American soccer team plane crash. It might not have been so funny had we been there any longer, but the guy showed up and fixed the clutch. For some reason, we still had to get out and push again, but this time it actually accomplished something, so we jumped into the moving van and were back on our way.

All was good until 15 minutes later, we turn onto a dirt road, which it would be for the rest of the journey, and Frederick decides to pick up another 12 people (no lie) and pack them into the van with us. No live chickens this time at least, but we were very scrunched and even the Ghanaians beside me were saying this was the worst road in Ghana. Not that I could have slept if I wanted to, but I stayed up and closed my window whenever a passing car went by so a huge cloud of dust wouldn't enter the van. This ride was probably the best education we could have gotten on the disparity in Ghanaian lifetstyles. We started back in East Legon, with huge houses, running water and electricity, and here between Tamale and Larabanga, we pass by villages with clusters of little mud-huts, children running around naked, and women washing their clothes and drinking out of the same water that cows are walking through.

The guy sitting next to me was Muslim and and this was the second to last day of Ramadan, so we got to talking and I found out that during the day they can't even drink water. I was astonished. Also, I was eating goldfish on the van when we stopped at this village and a girl came up to my window and asked if she could have them. I gave them to her figuring she probably needed them more than me and the sight of her eating them, seemingly not enjoying them, was a little funny.

But anyway, we finally reach Larabanga and get dropped off at Salia Brothers Hostel, where we had planned on staying. Mr. Salia was extremely nice and showed us our rooms, inside of this building made of clay and mud and sticks. The bathroom was a hole in the ground, and he said that most patrons carried they mattresses up to the roof and slept under the stars. We asked him about tour times at Mole, which was 6 km away, and we got dressed in pants and sneakers, adding to our already sweaty, gross bodies, and discussed with Mr. Salia how to arrange for the one taxi driver in Larabanga to take us into the park. Later events showed we clearly did not understand the agreed upon rate, and we surely pissed off the taxi driver after paying apparently less than we were supposed to, but still a great deal more than what the service was worth.

We had to take two trips for the 7 of us to get in. I was in the second, and the first group did some research into Mole Motel once they got there and found it had cancellations, frustrating because I had been trying to call them back all Friday and Saturday after they said they were booked full. But we talked to Michael and Moses at the tour desk and decided we would do an evening canoe safari that day, and an early morning walking safari the next. We ate dinner at the staff canteen, with baboons and warthogs eating just 20 feet away. It was amazing at first, and then became natural to see them everywhere. We ended up staying at Mole Motel, and at breakfast the next morning a baboon jumped up on the table and stole Leah's sugar cube. She has a great picture of it.

Saturday night we went on the canoe safari, no real animal sightings, but we played with some kids in the Mongori eco-village, and were transported to the water in a cart on the back of a motorcycle which was pretty sweet. We swam in the pool when we got back! and then called and talked to Mr. Salia about not staying at his place, which we felt really bad about after all he had done for us, so we payed him half of what we were supposed to there. Our rooms at Mole Motel were really nice though dead worms were falling from the top of the ceiling fan onto our beds, kinda gross.

We got up at 5:30 for the walking safari the next morning, sat at the observation deck for a bit overlooking the watering hole. Our main goal of this whole trip was to see an elephant and after three hours of walking behind our guide James, seeing tracks and poo and elephant related things, we saw none. We got very close to baboons and saw warthogs fighting, at one point there were monkeys all over a tree we were standing under, and they starting shaking the branches letting down water all over us, it was crazy to see them close and not behind bars at a zoo. It started raining halfway through but we trekked on; James took us down into a valley and to all the spots where he thought elephants would be, but we saw none.

Finding our way back to Tamale would prove to be the most challenging part of the trip, luckily this guy Osman knew some people and called and got us a ride to Damongo, a bigger village that would have more trotros coming through. But until then, we got a guy to show us the mud mosques, what Larabanga is famous for. The town is 100% Muslim and, built in 1421, the mud mosque there is the oldest in all of Ghana, and one of the oldest in West Africa. We weren't permitted to go inside as none of us were Muslim, but our guide told us that every Friday (the Muslim holy day) all of Larabanga's 4,000 residents came to this mosque, though there are 7 in the town. Judging by the parts I saw, I would have guessed the population was more like 400 than 4,000 so I was very surprised.

We argued with many people trying to scam us that day, trying to get us to charter trotros and they would fill them with people anyway, but we just wanted to travel like everybody else, paying not more than a couple cedis for the ride. Osman helped us again get from Damongo to Tamale, he even called us that night to make sure we had gotten there safely. Without the help of so many random people along the way, I don't know what would have come of us that weekend.

We got into Tamale and Hilary, Kate, and I ran through the streets to find an atm while the trotro waited. The first two didn't take Visa, so we went to the Barclay's, always your best bet in Ghana, and replenished our funds. People were laughing at us happily dodging cars and weaving through people, asking 'why the rush, won't you buy something?'. It was exhilarating.

We stayed at the Catholic Guest House again Sunday night and ate at the same restaurant. We ended up eating and drinking for three or four hours, re-capping our experience, everything we had seen and done. We still had a 14 hour bus ride ahead of us the next day; we chose to go STC the whole way to Accra, which was amazing, except for the speaker above me being the only one that worked on the whole bus. They turned the volume up all the way on mine then so everybody could watch the same 5 hour long Nigerian drama that had played on the way there.

There are rest stops along the highway where you pay to use the bathroom, usually kept pretty clean. But we stopped in Kumasi at a market, and we payed to use a urinal. You pay this lady 20 pesewa, go behind this wall, squat and pee next to other women. It was really unsanitary and disgusting, but to other people it's everyday life.

We got back Monday night at about 8, exhausted, starving, and feeling overwhelmed by the weekend that seemed like 2 weeks. We talked to Mommy and Captain for a little bit and went to sleep. The rest of the week was exhausting; we had our Twi final on Thursday, so now I have a lot more free time.

Friday night I went to a club in Osu for my friend Matt's birthday, an overall good time, complete with parking lot grilled hamburgers and a new friend named Nelly who has a car. Saturday, Lindsay, Julie, and I went to an engagement ceremony with Mommy. I was told it would last 3 hours, ended up being 10, but a worthwhile experience nonetheless. The guy fiance's family has to bring lots of gifts to the parents of the girl fiance. Each family hires a spokesperson to tell stories and sing songs and tell jokes for the families, talk about the gifts, and provide entertainment basically. All of it was in Twi, and I fell asleep at one point and one of the women turned to me and said "Do not sleep." I was mortified, but everyone laughed so I don't think I offended anybody. We hadn't gotten home until 4 the night before so I was dead tired, and starving. Mommy was a little annoyed it had lasted that long also, though, which made me feel a little better.

Sunday I spent 3 hours doing laundry, the result being all of my underwear on the line to dry, always a little questionable. CIEE hosted "Olympics" in the afternoon, so I went to campus and played soccer and some other games. They made me be the goalie, assuming I can catch since I play basketball, but the other team scored, so I made someone switch. We won anyways though.

In other news, we have some new permanent, or at least semi-permanent residents of our house. Afia is 19, and has been doing most of our cooking, she's really nice but not a big talker. Evans just came a couple days ago from the north; he is 13 and has come to stay with Mommy and Captain and go to school. He is really cute and always wears a rosary to signify he is Catholic. He has a hard time understanding my English, I guess I talk really fast, but I showed him where I am from on a globe last night. He couldn't pick out Ghana on the map, and didn't know where Africa was, which was a little disheartening, but I plan on spending more time with him.

I just found out this weekend's trip to see the Queen Mother and go to a bead village got canceled, which is a little upsetting, but Ama said she would go with us to Togo next weekend to go to the beach, which would be amazing! I'm thinking we should take along Kate and Treza because it's a francophone country and they speak French, but it would be very cool to cross the border!

I'm really sorry this was so long and probably boring to read, but I guarantee you living it is really better.

Thanks for reading!
xoxo

Mal

Lots and lots of pictures from Bojo Beach, World Cup Qualifier, Cape Coast, Mole Weekend and more: HERE!

Journey to Cape Coast!

2009-09-16T05:30:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was a great one! My eye cleared up after about a day and half, Mommy was pleased it healed the "African way" with no medicine besides shea butter. We set off on our weekend trip Saturday morning; Dad would be proud to hear I only brought my backpack with! The drive to Cape Coast was beautiful, I was perked up against the window the whole time looking at everything and taking pictures. Our hotel overlooked the ocean, though sadly I didn't get my hot shower:( Maybe in another month.

After lunch on Saturday, we split into two groups, mine went to Cape Coast Castle, the other Elmina Castle. Cape Coast started off as a place for trading when the Europeans first came to the Gold Coast and eventually became the departure point for enslaved Africans during the trans-Atlantic slave trade. We explored the museum and got a guided tour, but three main points defined my time there.

1) There is a door that leads to the water from the castle, the "door of no return" as they called it, because it was the last time many slaves would ever touch the African soil of their homeland. On the outside there is a plaque that reads "door of return," after the family of a former slave returned their ashes and brought them through that very door. A black girl in my group had a picture taken of herself walking into the castle through that door, and though I know not her personal family history, I imagined it was a symbol of some sort of redemption for her history or even the effects of slavery seen in American racism today.

2) We were allowed into the room where condemned slaves were sent to starve and suffocate until death, and after we all filed into the dimly lit room, the guide shut the door and turned off the light, and for our moment of silence we stood in that uncomfortable setting where he explained the slaves had scratched the stone walls, crying out for life. As it got hot and stuffy and I was in the back waiting for everyone to climb out, I almost asked the guide to turn the lights back on. And then I thought who I am to deserve lights in the room where probably thousands died? I can't endure five minutes of it? It made me think.

3) One of the stops on the tour was the British governor's quarters, the upstairs of the castle with serene balcony views and calm ocean breezes. The fact that anybody could live on top of the slave dungeons, (and have enslaved women brought up to rape and torture), was sick. The disparity in living conditions showed a true cruelty in the human race.

Afterwards we had a de-briefing session back at the hotel where people shared their impressions of the castle, we talked about forms of slavery still happenning today all around the world, and hope for humanity. The tour was a very solemn day in terms of life education, and a very different mood from Sunday's activities.

On Sunday, we went to Kakum National Park and went on a canopy walk through a rainforest!!!! It was absolutely amazing, one of the coolest things in Ghana so far. We drove through some small villages in a big coach bus to get there which made me feel a little guilty for getting to experience something so breathtaking that many who live so close and yet in poverty will never get to see.

Once there, we went on an upward hike via stone steps through the forest, myself snapping pictures the whole way, before reaching a little wooden construction where we started the canopy walk. The walkway is made of rope netting on the sides, with a piece of wood wide enough for only one foot, to walk on. There are seven different sections making up the walkway, interrupted by tiny wooden decks around giant trees throughout a section of the rainforest. The views were spectacular, and I only wondered if mankind had ever been to the farthest points in my vision. Everything was so vibrantly green and some students said they even saw monkeys. The canopy walk was only built in 1994, purely as a tourist attraction, and was originally formed by shooting the ropes across by bow and arrow. I thought of family vacations I have been going on my whole life, and their usual relation to nature; I'm sure my family would have loved it. Also, I think the Johnsburg elementary schools, under which I learned, strangely enough gave an unusally large attention to rainforests, so it was awesome to get to experience this.

The ride back was mostly uneventful; the other bus with kids from campus I heard had to pull over several times because people got sick and had to vomit. The speedy driving over speed bumps didn't feel great on my bladder, but no food poisoning for me. Lindsay and I got home and Mommy and Captain welcomed us with hugs saying their girls were home and they had missed us, it felt good. My host family here really is great.

Yesterday I played basketball! I heard of some girls intramural league games happenning, so after visiting a seamstress to get some dresses made (yay) I went over and asked them if I could join. The league is girls representing their dorm teams, but I played with the Mensah Serbah Hall team, in a blue jersey much too small for me. I guess the University team is recruited from this league. The game was supposed to start at 3, but as we are in Ghana, that actually meant 4:30, so I missed class but had a great time.

There were about 8 girls on my team, one other American, and we did some layups and stretching. I told them I played for my school team back in America and some of them had never even played before. After winning the jump ball (!) the coach kept me in the whole game, telling everyone else to pass to the tall girl. It was different than what I'm used to in a lot of ways, but it was a bunch of fun and the team was very gracious in letting me play. There was a huge fan base as well, Ghanaians crowding around the outside court and they all came over afterward to slap our hands, despite our losing, and it was a fun atmosphere. They are playing again this weekend but I'll be out of town. They have my number, so hopefully I'll get to play again.

Classes are running smoothly, we now have tutorials with our teaching assistants, which are smaller group sessions to complement the lectures. Next week is the last week of Twi classes, and I'll have my first final...very weird. The upcoming Monday was declared an impromptu holiday as the centennial of Krame Nkrumah, Ghana's first president. Seven girls and I are setting off on an adventure, leaving Friday and returning Monday or Tuesday, to Mole National Park in the Northern Region. It will be a whole day traveling each way, taking three busses and staying in cheap hotels at night. Mole is known for its wild animal species, those like elephants and others stereotypically linked to Africa, (I may have failed to mention in my blogging that the only animal life I have seen are wild dogs, cats, goats, chickens, and cows). We will stop in Tamale along the way, and maybe go see some mud mosques while we up there as well. Whatever happens, it will be an adventure.

My planner tells me next Tuesday is the first day of autumn; sadly there will be no fall for me this year. So go apple-picking, eat pumpkin pie, and enjoy the changing colors of leaves for me:) My parents confirmed they are coming to visit for five days in the beginning of November. I can't wait to show them my Ghana, I know they will love it!

Thanks for reading!

Lots to tell- allow some time:)

2009-09-11T03:00:00.000-07:00

A very eventful weekend gave way to a so far tiring week. Friday night was absolutely crazy and random, mostly because we had no plan and started out for Osu to see about an Irish pub my friend Hilary had heard about. Walking around the streets at night with guidebook in hand, some natives asked if were looking for Ryan’s Irish Pub, how’d they know?...and directed us on our way. We entered to several rooms full of older white, mostly males, and felt extremely out of place. Instead of being comforted by this sight of caucasians, we all felt very strange, and left without even ordering a drink to find a place with more Ghanaians. We soon settled on an outside bar. We sat down and began the always intriguing game of people-watching. There was almost a fight between some street performers, a girl begging that would not leave us alone, and lots of people dancing. Some explicit dance moves led us to believe we may have stumbled upon a gay bar, and this fact was later confirmed by Ama, who said its owner Chester was “the gayest man in Ghana.” Talk of sexuality in Ghana is not prevalent, and traditionally it may be looked down upon or so we were warned in our handbook. The area where Chester’s Place is located is known as a touristy neighborhood, so perhaps that has something to do with it.

Some of our friends showed up and brought along their Lebanese friend, Prince, who they had met at that very bar in their first night in Ghana. We come to find out his family owns a biscuit factory in Ghana which brought him there ten years ago. Our friends Matt and Max had become quite good friends with him, and trusting their judgment, we all piled into his car and started out toward Champ’s, a sports bar with Friday night karaoke. Prince soon started driving at crazy speeds and when stopped at a police checkpoint, he pulls some biscuits (what we would call crackers) out of the glove box and bribes the cop, as Matt sits drinking a beer in the front seat, four people are in the back seat, and Max is getting cozy in the trunk. We finally arrive at Champ’s, where Prince proceeds to bribe the parking attendant with biscuits to get us into a closed parking lot.

The rest of the night proved to be mostly uneventful, lots of foreigners buying overpriced drinks, and watching out for pool cues coming my way in the smoky, crowded, bar.

Saturday some friends and I ventured to Bojo Beach. After hearing others’ testimonials about their beach experiences thus far, Bojo sounded the best and words cannot describe how beautiful it was. Transportation for the day consisted of four trotros and two taxis, but it was worth it. It was nothing like I expected. You drive through a city with some mountains, and down a windy dirt road and then appears this beautiful beach with little shacks covered in palm leaves and crashing waves. There was a 5 cedi entrance fee which I’m sure helps to keep it so pristine, but also covers the fun little boat ride you have to take across the inland waterway. With the equator looming just five degrees away from us, I did get sunburn despite my use of spf’s, but it already went away.

Slight digression, but I do believe it is safe to say we are now in the dry season. Each day I feel the sweltering heat sinking into my forehead and arms, and the back of my neck. My sunscreen usage is getting more frequent as it should, and sweating has become a nonstop activity for me. Crazy as it should sound, I came down with a cold despite the heat and spent all of Monday wiping and blowing my nose, and feeling my ears pop. Lots of people heard the sickness in my voice, and Abena suggested that maybe it was a lack of vitamin C in my Ghanaian diet, so I found some Tampico Paradise juice, "enriched with vitamin C", and I'm feeling better.

Backtracking to the beach...the waves were so much fun! A far cry from splashing around in Lake Michigan, the water slammed against our bodies and we could feel the salt exfoliating our skin. Later in the afternoon, I went in again when the tide was high and I could feel the undercurrent I had been warned about. The waves took us far from the spot on the beach where we had entered, and the lifeguard blew his whistle, but no harm was done.

All of Sunday was devoted to the Ghana v. Sudan futbol game at the stadium in Osu. Poor planning had us waiting around at the student hostels for a couple hours waiting for our tickets, but what an experience it was. We somehow managed to obtain a free ride on a stadium-bound bus where the driver and his mate taught us the Ghanaian national anthem, which proved useful throughout the day. We had some people from our program with us and they directed us to wait in this very long line which was not moving, we later realized due to so many people cutting. After waiting for almost two hours outside in the hot sun, note my already sun-burned body, and fending off people selling anything and everything red, green, and gold, with a black star, we reached the front of the line about ten minutes before scheduled kick-off time. People were trying to fight their way into the line, and Abena began yelling at them. It was really mass chaos, everyone cutting the line and shoving and getting in our faces. All of the girls were holding our purses against our chest, watching for pick-pocketers, though my friend Sam got her phone stolen in the frenzy right before being pushed through the gate by a police officer.

A little frazzled from all this excitement, we didn't bother finding our correct seats but sat down at a mostly empty section open in the first two rows by the center of the field. Adjusting to the deafening noise of fans and music that would last the game's duration, we arrived just in time for kick-off as we watched through the glass that surrounded the field because we were so close, and our view was slightly obstructed due to police officers positioned around the field. The game was a blast though, a good show of soccer and definitely of Ghanaian pride. We won the game 2-0, making the Ghana Black Stars the first African team to qualify for the 2010 World Cup to be held in South Africa. Matt had brought a flag to the game and after the victory the players came around and waving to the fans on the other side of the glass. One of the players saw Matt's flag and somehow gestured toward it, so Matt threw it over and soon the player was running around the field draped in Matt's flag, it was pretty cool.

As we left the stadium and headed toward the trotro park, I was surrounded by Ghanaians jumping all over and on me, snapping pictures and cheering. It was largely a riot of sorts, and probably over 50 Ghanaians have a picture of me on their camera. Of course they all wanted to "be my friend" and asked for my number. I politely lied and said I didn't have a Ghanaian cell phone.

I got another package! This one was from the Gaylord family (major shout-out!!) I had to go to Circle downtown again to retrieve it, but I felt very independent this time, finding the right tro-tro to get me there, maneuvering through tons of street vendors and paying only 4 cedi this time to get my parcel. It ceases to amaze me how slowly things run here though. I spent almost a full hour in the post office, waiting for different people to do simple tasks, like finding my package and giving me change. Finding a tro-tro home went quite smoothly as well; you have to walk through Kaneshie Market asking each tro-tro driver where to get one to wherever you are going. Most of them just point one way or another, so then you have to decide how far in that direction to walk before asking someone else, all amidst about 100 different tro-tros. But I made it back in time for class and felt very good about my Ghanaian-like navigating of Greater Accra. Thanks so much to the Gaylord's if you are reading this!

Wednesday night I went to Reggae Night at Labadi Beach. Some of my friends had gone in weeks past, but this was my first time. After meeting up with some people who live on campus and socializing a bit in the dorms, we negotiated our way onto an empty upscale trotro heading for the beach, paid the 5 cedi entrance fee and by 11pm found ourselves on the beach, with a live band on a stage and rastafarians wading and dancing in the Atlantic Ocean. The atmosphere was calm and lots of overly friendly people were chatting us up on the shore. I had the best time getting a taxi home for the night, though. There were four taxis waiting outside the beach for people leaving, and they wanted 10 cedi for a ride. I said my three friends and I would only pay 7. Nobody else was leaving yet as it was only about 1am and I guess Reggae Night goes on much later, but I knew I would get my way with one of the taxis. So, being slightly obnoxious I confidently pointed out to the drivers that the rest of them would be sitting there with no customers at all, while one of them would settle on taking us home for 7 cedis. Five minutes and some laughing later, we were on our way home in a 7 cedi taxi ride.

Yesterday was a very frustrating day at my first day interning at an NGO. I chose to start working at this non-profit group called SISS, Self-Help Initiative Support Service, about a 40 minute commute from my house, near Madina. The organization works with people from the Aglobloshie Slum in Accra to give them job-training, personal development skills, and advocacy for other issues that arrive from living in such a low-income area. Four other people from CIEE are interning there along with two other students and there seems to be little organization or duties or responsibilities for all of us. Everything goes slowly here in Ghana, so I was not surprised that when I showed up at 9am there was no one there to tell me what to do, so my friend Leah and I sat down and waited for someone to show up to guide us. We had gone to visit SISS on Tuesday so we knew some of the people, but were very unclear on what we would actually be doing. Matt had started there a couple weeks ago and his task was to organize a conflict-resolution workshop to be held in the slum for an expected 500 people. This stemmed from a conflict a couple weeks ago involving atleast four deaths due to stabbing, with the issue dating back years to some political conflicts between the chiefs of different tribes.

There is a guy named Stanley, who just graduated from Legon and is doing his National Service at SISS, who initially told us we could start planning a meeting on campus to get more volunteers involved, so we did some brainstorming on that front. After about 3 hours Na showed up; she is apparently in charge of all interns and volunteers but she too provided little direction for our roles. We will each be teaching two personal development classes during the semester, which is just a one-time presentation on some skill or character development, mine will be on "how to write a letter" and "social-perceptiveness". But besides that we were told to just think of ways to help out. So we starting making a fund-raising strategy, as any NGO is always in need of funds, and also we were prompted to write a grant proposal, which with only 3 months and no experience, is way out of our league. But we decided we will try to atleast make a donation packet and get a mailing out to raise some money by the time we leave. I stayed until two o'clock, and left feeling overwhelmed and lost, frustrated with my lack of control over the situation. But I am going to give it time and see what happens.

Last night I tried to sit down and type this post on my laptop and was again irritated by the re-occurring problems with the keyboard. I decided the shift key was stuck down because Word was operating in all caps and in playing with it, eventually took the key itself off and found that there are two buttons under the shift key, one of which was missing a part. So I played with it a little and after about an hour, put the miscellaneous pieces on my dresser and decided to call it a night.

Then this morning I woke up, lay in bed for a few minutes, and stood up to find my eye swollen almost completely shut. I rubbed it a little bit and a slight overhang from my enlarged eyelid was obstructing my vision only a little, but I went to my mirror and found that the whole area above my right eye was swollen. I didn't know what it was or what to do, so I drank some water and took some ibuprofen. Lindsay woke up and I showed her; she too was perplexed, but suggested I put ice on it. I went inside the main house and Captain was there cutting pineapple. His initial reaction was one of confusion but said it was most likely a bug bite. He got some shea butter and cocoa butter to rub on it after I bathed, but four hours later it still feels very swollen. Mommy and Captain said it should go down by the end of the day. And my Ghanaian friend Gabriel said "yea, sometimes that happens" in reaction to seeing my eye, that's comforting...not.

It's when things like these happen when I ask myself why I am here and think that none of these things would be happening if I were back home. It helps to think of all the sad or boring times in America, and then I think, well at least for the time being I'm feeling crappy in Africa!

I will try to not let these recent occurrances ruin my weekend however, because we are taking a weekend trip to Cape Coast in the Central Region. Besides probably getting to take my first shower in a month in our hotel, we will see either Cape Coast or Elmina Castle, (both slave castles,) and go on a canopy walk in Kakum National Park. Oh, and tonight Lindsay, Ama, and I are attempting to make guacamole!!

Wednesday was the one-month mark for my stay here in Ghana, and looking back it seems to in some ways have gone by so fast and in others, I feel I've been here forever. I am sure there will be tons more to tell in the next three months...so thanks for reading!

news and new pictures!

2009-09-03T06:31:00.000-07:00

Hi! Everything went fine at the post office, I had to wait and fight my way to get a spot in a non-existent line for 45 minutes, then was handed a knife and told to open my package. Some guy tried to take the knife and open it for me; I brought out the bitch and told him to back off. But as soon as I opened it and saw my mom's handwriting on the note, I started tearing up and then people gave me my space. The post office worker told me not to cry, and then starting writing down all these random numbers and adding them up, apparently customs charges and relocating fees, who knows? The 15 cedi, in my mind, was a small price to pay for the large box of food and gifts from my family. Thanks guys:) Love you so much!

Last night's geography class was a complete bust, I don't know what I was expecting, but atleast now I have my schedule all figured out.

This morning I went to a yoga class at the gym I visited a couple weeks ago. It was lots of fun, though I'm not too sure how qualified the instructor was, telling us to breathe like fire. But he made his point very clear that "love was all around us". I stayed after and worked out for a little bit, it was a good little change of pace from outside running, maybe next time I will try the tae-bo class.

Tonight at Jerry's I think we are going to try to bring the beloved American college sport beer pong to Ghana. We have acquired cups and balls and Jerry said he is willing to organize the tournament. Needless to say, everyone is very excited!

The main reason for this post was to link all my new pictures I added to a facebook album. Just click on this link and you can see lots of pictures from Ghana! Enjoy!

beauty and corruption

2009-09-01T03:27:00.000-07:00

We got out of Accra last weekend a saw a very different part of Ghana. After some glitches with the busses, we started on our journey to Aburi. The last ten minutes of the hour ride trip was driving up the side of a mountain; we could see the miles behind us where we had come from, cliffside houses, and more green than I've seen in weeks. Everyone got out their cameras and started snapping pictures, I think these weekend tours will bring out the true tourist in all of us.

Our first stop was a wood-carving village where we got an improptu tutorial on the carving of wood, watching a few men chipping away at the wood and polishing the finished products. All of the items were displayed in little stands along the street. Most of the carvers had similar items to offer, some with more traditional Ghanaian meanings, along with jewelery and other items, also. Some of us starting buying things and then asking each other how much they had bargained the price down to. The treasures we bought would have sold for far more in America, though, and I find myself almost feeling guilty about haggling to such a low price, when really I would be willing to pay more. When we got home, my friends and I were discussing if these men would accept anything for their precious creations. Afterall, how did they know when the next bus of 30 Oburonis would come up the mountain? I did buy a couple things, safely stowed away in my souvenir/gift drawer...I think I'll keep its contents a secret.

After that, we went to Teteh Quashi's cocoa farm, the first in Ghana. Cocoa is one of Ghana's leading exports today, and we got a small tour of how it all started. The farm was very small, I think it said .38 hectares. We saw how the cocoa plant is cut off the tree and dried out. We were all very hungry by this point and were looking forward to some chocolate at the end of tour, but there was none. Any tour of this nature in America would have a large gift shop full of overpriced items right before the exit, but I guess this was purely educational.

Our third and last stop was the Aburi Botanical Gardens, which proved to be very beautiful despite of the overcast weather. In fact, there came to be a foggy mist that lay over the landscape, making the already exotic plants and trees seem even more mystical. There were some trees planted by famous people, some leaves that smelled exactly like cinnamon, another like Vick's Vapor Rub, and this one plant that covered the ground in one area which had a self-defense mechanism to curl up when something touches it, and then release after a few seconds. I took a video, it was so cool. We climbed in and out of a hollowed out tree that had been overtaken by another tree and hid under branches when it started to rain.

It felt so good to see the real beauty of Ghana and escape the constant honking of taxis we have become so accustomed to. This whole trip only lasted about six hours, so I can't wait for some of our longer overnight trips. Saturday night, Ama's boyfriend, Kwame, took some friends and I out for Chinese food, which is very popular here. His wealth showed in his ordering for us, bottles of wine, appetizers, and so much more food than we could finish. The food was much spicier than any Chinese food I have ever had, but delicious nonetheless and not far off from the Chinese food I frequent in America.

Sunday afternoon Lindsay and I made banku with Ama while Mommy was still at church. We played cards with James after he came home with Mommy and had a lot of fun. He taught us a card game they play here, and we wanted to know the name of it. He thought for a minute, asked Ema, and then replied that they just call it "playing cards" haha. We played for a couple hours and I was crowned the overall champion!

The weekend was pretty relaxing, though I also got some subtle and some not so subtle reminders that I'm not in small town USA anymore. Last week my friend Treza got her cell phone stolen while riding in a taxi. Apparently the other passenger was involved in a scheme with the driver where they pretended to be fixing the door or something, and somehow got it out of her pocket. Besides having to pay 50 cedi for a new one, she was left cell-phone less after they left her at the side of the road and she had to find her way home.

On the way home from Aburi, someone from my group was taking pictures out the window of our bus and the police on the side of the road flagged us to stop. Apparently you are not allowed to photograph police here, and they thought that is what he was doing. After getting out of the bus and showing him there were no pictures of the police, the policeman then said he still had to take the camera, obviously just because he wanted to take it for himself. Abena then hopped out of the bus and started yelling at the policeman in Twi about how that is just wrong and then both she and the student marched onto the bus and we drove away.

And then a bunch of my friends were expecting packages, but they instead got a slip from the CIEE office telling them they had to go down to the post office and pick it up because it was too large. Upon going to the post office downtown they were brought to a backroom, presented with the package, handed a knife and told to open it. Then the people working there would name a price for how much they wanted to release the package to them. Depending on the size of the package and probably how valuable the contents, they would start at anywhere between 27-250 cedi. I heard of this happenning to four students in my program, all of them were able to bargain it down at least a little, but one girl who had her computer sent to her ended up paying 140 cedi ($100 US) just to get it in her custody.

Drumroll please....I just now got a package slip. I kinda knew I was getting a package because I went to ask Abena the protocol for receiving a package and Mr. Gyasi interjected that my parents had emailed him about me getting a package they apparently thought should have already arrived. So he ruined the surprise, and I anticipated this happenning. Though Abena said this only happens when the packages are too big, and all of this nonsense can be avoided by sending things through UPS or FedEx. All non-package mail like letters or postcards are fine though.

So this afternoon, I will take a tro tro to Circle where the post office is and go through a process probably like the one I have described. I'll keep you posted.

I'm wishing safety and happiness for everyone back home. Thanks for reading.

Peace and Love,

Mal

living and loving my life in Ghana

2009-08-28T04:12:00.000-07:00

One of Mommy's church friends gave birth to a new baby boy last week, so Tuesday night I went with Mommy and Lindsay to visit Ama and her baby. (Because there are only 7 days of the week, you will meet countless people here with the same day name.) Though Ama lived just a 5 minute car ride away along our bumpy taxi route, their electricity had been out since that morning, so we brought along some battery operated lights. (Some of my family members in doing research on Ghana before my departure said the power would go off every day for a couple of hours. FALSE. Though recently, these power outages have become more frequent, not at my house, however. Also, the water goes off in some places at random times. My Twi professor said the amount of water coming to campus today has not changed since he went to school here in the 70's. Note that the enrollment then was under 10,000, and today numbers 28,000. So it is not uncommon , actually pretty regular, for toilets or sinks not to function. Those who live on campus will also lose water in their dorms atleast once a week.)

We walked by flashlight up to Ama's house, watching out for jagged rocks and puddles here and there. Entering a candelit room full of relatives, we saw the baby boy laying peacefully in his mother's arms. We sat down on a couch next to Ama and she let Lindsay and I both hold him. He was born on Thursday, so his name will be Kweku, though he has not had his naming ceremony yet. Holding Kweku, and looking at his tiny fingers by candlelight with a cool breeze coming through the window, there was something so simply serene about the moment. I smiled as I looked around at Mommy speaking Twi to the family members and Kweku's older sister falling asleep laying on her daddy. We only stayed for a little while, but I'm sure we will go back to visit. I have a picture of myself and the baby, it will be posted soon...absolutely adorable.

Earlier that day some friends and I went to "Bonjour," this very Americanized gas station/cafeteria that has special "Terrific Tuesday" deals with buy one, get one free pizza. I consumed 98% of the dairy I have had in Ghana in that one afternoon. We finished off six pizzas between five people, and then I got ice cream:) It was only my second time eating cheese in Africa and it was splendid. We are considering making this a ritual, perhaps "Fat Tuesdays". I'm in favor of it.

Wednesday morning I arrived on campus and walked to class only to find the building where my class was supposed to be collapsed. The roof was sitting on top of the desk where I could have been sitting. I was very confused as one might assume, and went to the political science notice board, the source of all departmental information, and saw my class time and of course venue had been changed. Atleast this change of class was not due to disorganization on the part of the University, only their faulty buildings.

Yesterday I woke up early despite not having class until 4pm, all excited to do laundry. I got everything set up, got my weightlifting in pulling up bags of water from the well and started scrubbing away. By my third article of clothing, I looked down and saw stains on a t-shirt and was puzzled, before realizing it was the blood dripping off my fingers and onto the clothes that were supposed to be getting clean. Avoiding using the already injured fingers, it took me two hours to do my laundry, that is only about half of what I intended on washing. I must say I felt pretty accomplished seeing my wardrobe out on the line though. Today I feel much like a snake, my fingers are peeling in a really weird way, and I have a blister also from pulling up the rope in the well.

Tomorrow morning we have our first CIEE excursion, going to the Aburri Botanical Gardens. We are going to see a cocoa farm and some wood carving as well. I think it is only about an hour drive, but I'm excited to see something different!

Classes are still a little frustrating, my geography professor has not shown up for the first two weeks, so I can't decide if I will drop that class or a different one. Add/drop period ends soon though, hopefully everything works itself out. I fixed my computer with the help of dear old Dad, and I've continued my running, trying out different routes. Mommy and Captain are well, I found out Captain is Chairman of the Entertainment Committee for his retired military officer organization. He is planning a luncheon sometime in September and he said we are invited. He has nicknamed Mommy "the roving ambassador," as she is always in and out of the house, visiting people and going to various church functions. I have also continued to meet interesting people during escapades to Jerry's. Last night we met the head chef for the Algerian Ambassador in Ghana?

So all is well from Africa, thanks for reading!

This is a video from last Saturday of Emme pounding fufu, I also have a picture of me attempting this feat; I will admit mine was far less vigorous. I couldn't figure out how to rotate this, so enjoy your neck stretch, sorry:(

Lindsay, Julie, Hilary, and I at the Roxbury last weekend.

THIS is the Roxbury. You see what I mean by fun-house.

A Night at the Roxbury

2009-08-25T03:28:00.000-07:00

Friday afternoon I came home from school and Mommy and Lindsay were going to the market to I hopped in the car with them and drove to Madina. Here there is a market about 20 minutes away, much smaller than Makola but with many of the same elements. Mommy said this area is highly populated with Muslims, many of whom sell things at the market. (Side note: Since I’ve gotten here I have heard a sort of chant/song often and have figured out it is the Muslim people who live nearby, praying 5 times a day as per the pillars of Islam. Ama also informed us that Ramadan recently started, and as we drove past the slums, where lots of Muslim people are usually out on the streets, there were only a few, as after sunset is when they are allowed to eat for 30 days. I find all of this very interesting.) It was a dark and dreary day which added to the soiled feeling the market exuded. We had come to get vegetables for the cooking lesson we had Sunday morning; we bought all kinds of stuff, some things I’d never seen before like garden eggs for example. Mommy goes to the market often and so she had certain people she went to for certain things. Her sister and cousin sell plantains there, and she has friends that sell peppers, rice, and fabric. A girl followed us around the whole time, acting as our human shopping cart, carrying everything we bought in a big bowl on top of her head. Madina was a bit less intimidating than Makola, maybe because we merely followed Mommy around like chicks to the Mother Hen.

When we got back, we had dinner and then cut up vegetables, washing them several times in tubs of water, adding in some salt to kill any bacteria. Knowing we had to get up early to prepare for hosting the cooking lesson, we decided to stay in and went to see Ama’s movie collection. The packaging and distribution of dvd’s here caught me by surprise. She had several discs which EACH contain up to 50 movies, one of these discs costs just 5 cedis, about 3.50 US dollars. She had quite a few American selections, we took the disc with various romantic comedies and watched the Wedding Planner with Mommy inside the house. She quickly fell asleep; it seems we need to find a happy medium between Nigerian soaps and American chick flicks for all to stay interested.

The next morning I woke up and cleaned my room a bit; it is by far the cleanest room I have kept in recent years as I noted to the Captain. I passed his inspection nonetheless. I went inside to have breakfast and Mommy said she was going back to the market; the vegetable woman forgot to give her the cucumber she paid for. It was at that time 8:45, and the CIEE kids who live on campus were coming over at 9:30 or 10 for this cooking lesson. I knew she would not be back in time, especially if she saw a single person she knew and began talking to. Sure enough, around 9:45 people show up and Janet, a lady who works for CIEE, was asking Lindsay and I where everything was, all the utensils and ingredients. Meanwhile I was trying to eat the rest of my disgusting porridge, chasing it with pieces of pineapple. I showed everyone around “the compound;” they were very impressed with our own little house as I knew they would be.

Mommy eventually got back, and things ran smoothly. Lindsay and I played helpers as we knew where everything was and had seen a bit of Mommy cooking. All the campus kids were talking about buying pots and pans and making the food for themselves. I became very grateful for my home stay, especially when one of the girls asked, “Do you guys eat like this everyday?” I said yes. We made so much food that I ended up making the kelewele, a favorite here among almost everybody. It’s just plantains that are soaked with a mixture of peppers and onion and seasonings and then fried over a hot coal fire. It was very easy and fun and made me feel special J haha. Everyone ate to their fullest the delicious food we spent almost 3 hours preparing, taking pictures and chatting with our parents, who are quite the socialites. We used a massive number of pots and pans and utensils and plates. It was a major production on the back porch afterward cleaning all of them in huge bowls of water.

We had a welcome durbar for all international students on campus that afternoon, where we were fed once again and different students got up and performed various musical talents or lack thereof. It was a good time, everyone got dressed up and there were traditional African dancers as well. We had talked to Ama and Emme about going out Saturday night but it took a long time to figure out who was coming with, where we were going, etc. etc. But it ended up being a saga of a night. (I figured out Ema’s name is actually spelled Emme, so that’s how he will be referred to from now on haha).

Ama, Lindsay, and I picked up our friends Hillary and Lindsay and we first visited Ama’s boyfriend at work. He had a really nice office and we watched a little tennis before leaving to go to La Tawala. We all had no idea where we were going, Ama called some old friends and they showed us this place. After parking our car we walked through some sand which I thought was just brought in for effect, but then we went through the outdoor bar and voila! there was the ocean! It was definitely unexpected and we all got out our cameras like true oburonis and went down to feel the water. Ama’s friends were four guys, three of which were married but they were good company, buying our drinks on our waterfront table. One of them was actually Nigerian and in Accra on his honeymoon. Next obvious question: where was his wife? He said she was off in town and I toasted to Eunice, his newlywed bride. We stayed there for about an hour and then discussed where we should go next.

We went back to Asylum Down, Ama’s old neighborhood, and picked up her friend Sally and then went to this nightclub down the street which from the outside looked absolutely insane, like a circus funhouse or something. The name of the club was Roxbury, yes, named after the SNL skit turned movie, and it was amazing inside as well. Taking into account that I don’t know much about the American nightclub scene, this place was over the top. We walked in and found our own little VIP corner with couches and mirrors. We got there at 11 and there was nobody there, so we just had one drink, and then went down the street to a smaller little outdoor bar, similar to Jerry’s and had cheaper drinks there until Ama and Sally thought that Roxbury would be a better time.

We went back around 1 and there were more people, the music was insanely loud, strobe lights everywhere, and people were dancing. We sat down again and watched this Mexican guy dancing crazily by himself. Eventually the place was packed and we went out and danced to both Ghanaian and American music. We were having a great time when we saw some other friends from CIEE walk through the door. We had gone to a sports bar earlier to meet some CIEE people staying at campus but they ended up not being there, so we were surprised to see some of them, but we all danced and continued to be amazed at Roxbury. Ama and Sally said that clubs in Ghana are often hotspots for prostitutes and I think I noticed some of that type, but it was overall a good time. We didn’t leave until close to 3 in the morning, our other friends stayed longer, but I think they closed at 5. On the way home, we went through two police checkpoints, where they stop your car in the street, and ask you to roll down your windows and shine flashlights around your car. The police had huge guns on a shoulder strap, a little intimidating. I crawled into bed around 3:30, later than I have stayed out in quite some time, but having experienced a variety of different things that night.

With intentions of going to the beach I awoke Sunday around 9:30, but plans fell through and I ended up going to Tema with Ama. Tema is a town outside Accra, yet still I think in the Greater Accra Region, about a thirty minute drive, we drove up right past the ocean and saw massive waves in the daylight. I had been warned about the strength of the undercurrent and I believe it. Ama’s friend Kweku took us out to eat banku and tilapia with some Sunday afternoon beers; we tried some cider beers which were very tasty. The food was absolutely delicious; grilled seasoned tilapia covered with steamed tomatoes, peppers, and onions, with an okor pepper sauce. The pepper sauce we had last night at the beach bar, and though pretty spicy, it was quite enjoyable. The banku comes in little plastic bags; it looks like a dough almost and is made from maize and cassava plants pounded together. It is a little like fufu, which we made on Saturday morning, except fufu is plantain and cassava. Both are eaten by taking a little piece and dipping it in whatever you are eating, with your hands of course. The fufu is supposed to be eaten without chewing, which I found very difficult, almost against my instincts, kinda like swallowing a pill I guess.

We went to another of her friend’s houses, which was exquisitely decorated, more upscale than any American house I have ever been in. Some of the houses here are gigantic. We took the Kwame Nkrumah Motorway back to East Legon; Ama said it is the only properly constructed street in Ghana, and for the most part free of potholes. It turned out to be a toll road, costing only 5 pesewas.

Recently Lindsay and I have noticed people calling after us “Akosua, Akosua,” which is the Ghanaian day name for Sunday. Here each child is given a day name, for whatever day of the week one was born in addition to a family name. So we were puzzled as to why they would guess or assume our name was Akosua, that we were born on Sunday. We joked that all American women were born on Sundays, but later I asked Ama and she provided explanation. She said that in church growing up, they often thought of God as being white, so they might associate white people with Sunday, the holy day, as somehow being closer to God.

Today I got up at 5:45 to be at school for a 7:30 class. I got there and found some friends only to be told the class got moved to tomorrow morning at 7:30. This school is so frustrating sometimes. Another early morning tomorrow I guess.
Everyone moving into school back home I hope you have safe travels and a fun first week! I miss everyone so much. XOXO

Sooo I meant to post this yesterday but my computer went absolutely crazy!!! I know my dad is cringing reading this but I'll press the g key and some crazy programs open and then the internet starts scrolling through every site I've ever been to, and it has a mind of its own. I tried to ask this guy for help and he showed me the office to go to; I entered and was yelled at for doing so...I then went and cried. But I'm over it now, it will get fixed somehow:)

thanks for reading!

Thinking

2009-08-21T05:53:00.001-07:00

Left with too much time to think the past couple days, some of the differences about my life here in Ghana became frustrations. I went to wash my legs last night when I realized there was a line of sweat-dirt streaking from knee down, and when I opened the door to the bathroom the largest cockroach I have ever seen began scampering toward me. I went for a run yesterday, and the stares I had countered Tuesday with friendly Twi hellos, were now met with annoyance. When guys called after me to marry them, I today felt bothered instead of amused. I went in the house to make tea and was met with a swarm of bugs around my face. Finding a book for a class that was supposedly “easy to find” is a maze of dead ends here in Ghana. I need to keep reminding myself that it is these very things I am here to experience. And when I think about what I am missing back home, I definitely get sad, but at the same time I think about the habits and ways of life I am happy to get away from, that I’m not just replaying the past semesters over again is in some ways like a breath of fresh air.
The Captain put it into perspective last night at dinner after teaching us to eat with our hands. Lindsay said something about how Americans waste with throwing away water bottles whereas here we are using mostly the bags, and he said that here there is a totally different concept of waste. I thought to the giant lot of garbage I pass everyday on my way to school, and asked if they have landfills here. He referenced just outside our house where trash litters the street and said that it would be nothing here for someone to throw that used water bag to the curb. And if he were to oppose of someone’s doing so, he might be chastised. He then explained that the government had to be tolerant also, of people’s doing so. Here at our house, we have a garbage can, brought out front every Monday for a reasonable fee, our garbage is collected and brought to the landfill. But this reasonable fee in his eyes is not in everyone’s. That some people cannot afford such a service cannot be blamed on them, he said, and at the same time he cannot blame the rest of the world for seeing only this tolerance of poverty and garbage as “Africa”. The Captain said he knows that some Americans cannot fathom a proper kitchen table, with lights and food at every meal, but that is not their fault, it is the communication he says. And he also does not blame developed countries for not waiting for Africa to catch up. “But that is why you are here,” he said, to bring back this knowledge that you saw with your own two eyes, heard, and smelt, and felt.

There has been lots of downtime recently, and I think once my schedule works itself out I will have long Mondays and Wednesdays spent at school, and after the first six weeks where I have Twi Monday through Thursday, I will only go to campus twice a week. I need to keep exploring Ghana, East Legon is only so big and contains only a small demographic of the area. I drove around with Ama yesterday when I didn’t have class until 4. I joined her in a small business meeting of sorts; she is trying to import Italian cosmetics. We went to a smoothie shop on Oxford Street in Osu, and went to a special store to buy plantain chips. Driving through the city, you are met by women selling plantain chips at every stop, and I wondered why she paid more for ones in the store. She said the people in the street don’t dress nicely and she can’t trust their products. I am getting the feeling more and more that Ama is a very Americanized Ghanaian. We also went to her friend’s house where I again listened to Twi conversation for about an hour. That kinda made me feel like a real outsider, that I have no life of my own here in Ghana, so must listen to them banter on about theirs in a local language I don’t yet understand. Going to Jerry’s last night with people from my program helped ease some of these feelings. There was brief talk about cheese and sandwiches and foods from home we missed before making ourselves stop, but sometimes the time really flies by. I’ve already been here almost two full weeks.

Tomorrow, CIEE is having cooking classes and we were under the impression they were for the kids in the dorms, and would be held on campus. Then we find out that our Mommy is hosting the classes at our house, so I guess I have to maybe make my bed tomorrow. I know that everyone will see everything we’ve been so graciously given and feel envy, and this makes me appreciate this opportunity so much more.

Many will spend their whole lives thinking all of Africa is monkeys and lions and people with no food or shoes, but that I get to see the whole picture is a real gift. I would say everyday thus far has been a rollercoaster of emotions, ups and downs, ups and downs. But honestly, no matter what happens these remaining 15 weeks in Ghana, this experience will be a good one.

In other news, I don’t think I’ve slept this much since I was ten years old. The Nigerian soap operas get old real fast, and I’ve been forbidden to sit outside after 6 because of the mosquitoes. I’ve been remembering my dreams a lot too, they said vivid dreams are a side effect of my malaria medication, but it’s cool I guess.

I finally got the chance to skype on Wednesday, I talked to my parents and David for a little bit in between classes. When talking to my parents, this guy sat down next to me and started talking to them. I had no idea who he was and I’m sure my parents were freaked out, but at least they got a feel for the friendly Ghanaians I guess. There is only wifi in this one big building on campus, and any small corner I could go to does not reach the access point for the wireless I think. I really must find some place better though because everyone was hearing my conversations and pointing and smiling.

Well I hope everyone has a great weekend wherever you may be, and thanks for reading!

Pictures!!

2009-08-18T08:12:00.000-07:00

James is teaching Lindsay and I how to wash clothes!

This is Felix teaching me how to cut plaintains and then fry them, pretty simple and delicious!

A picture of me drinking a bag of water after church, as promised for Mom and Dad, I hope this suffices.

This is the front of my house, or part of it anyway.

This is Mommy, cooking banku. She's so happy haha.

Everyone loves taking pictures with my camera.

Lots of Firsts

2009-08-18T08:10:00.000-07:00

The weekend contained many firsts for me here in Ghana. Saturday night was a good time, everyone from CIEE gathered at Chez Afrique; there was dancing, free food, 2 free rounds of drinks, and even a cake. I didn’t stay out too late as the next morning I had to wake up early to go to church with Mommy. It was supposed to start at 9:30, but time is really not of the essence down here, and we were a little late. The ceremony had lots of music and dancing, and as I would not find out until the end, would be almost three and a half hours in length. Mommy attends a Presbyterian church, as does Captain, though not the same Church. It was in the back of a half-built house, a room full of about 50 people once everyone showed up, and the children had a separate service outside under a canopy. Most of it was done in Twi, but the readings were done in English, Twi, and Ga, (another local language). Mommy directed us what to do at certain times, we got up and danced at one point, in somewhat of a procession, almost like a conga line around the lectern. Mommy is quite the fixture at church. She danced the longest and the most enthusiastic, prompting people to get up and join her. We split up in bible reading groups for one part, and Lindsay, my friend Julie, and I were all sent to the one done in English. We discussed our value to God, and how if you think about how intricate each human body is, it seems almost impossible we were created by accident. I have never really been very religious in nature, but at certain times when things like this make sense, I wonder if I should be.

At the end of this discussion, the leader asked me or Lindsay to lead the group in a prayer. We looked at each other hesitatingly and then I began to speak in a very shaky voice. I’m sure everyone thought I was about to burst into tears or something, I was very nervous for whatever reason, and I don’t think whatever I said was the prayer they expected. It was mostly thanking the people of Ghana, and their church people for welcoming us in, and praying to keep all of them safe; I was mostly pretty repetitive I think. Afterward I turned to Lindsay and Julie and took a big breath and laughed a little. Later in the service, any newcomers were asked to come to the front, so we went up and were asked to say our name, where we were from etc.. They gave me the microphone first, so I said, “Hi, I’m Mallory Scharf from America, near Chicago…” pause as everyone smiled and clapped a little, “…and I am here studying at the University in Legon, staying with Mrs. Ansah. And I just want to say thanks for having us and… I love Ghana so far!” I think my little speech was a hit with the congregation haha. The rest of the time I tried not to look at the clock, as different people said things in Twi, the last movement I did involved donating a cedi to the collection bucket. It turned out Mommy had to come back for a meeting, she is very involved I’m telling you.

She has tons of people that come to the house to help her with various things, so she arranged for these two boys James and Felix to come make us lunch at the house. They were 19, and 22 years old, playing music on their cell phones; they made us food and talked. I went to take a nap, and when I returned Mommy was home, and they boys were now cleaning the refrigerator for her, and then James taught us how to do laundry. I was amazed at their helpfulness; I don’t think many guys this age in America would be so attentive to an able woman from church. The hand-washing of laundry is my next story. We got water from the well, the bags of water were quite heavy as we pulled them up; James taught us to drop it down upside down so as to collect the most water. We filled three big bowls with water, put soap in two of them. We washed the whites first, put them all into the first big bowl, put some powdered detergent in and mixed it around. James showed us how to wash each item, scrubbing the fabric against itself, dipping it into the water, scrubbing some more. He did a much more thorough job with each article of clothing. I joked to Lindsay that I would have bloody knuckles afterward. But in truth, a chunk of skin was missing out of my left index finger and putting my hands under water after burned. Now two days later, I have red sores on my second and third fingers on each hand. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but Captain said we aren’t allowed to do our own laundry anymore, he would have someone come do it for us. But I think I want to continue; I told Mommy it will make me rough and tough and African. But anyways, we washed the clothes in each of the first two big bowls, and rinsed in the third, hanging them up to dry on the clothesline. The water was gross and gray afterward, I suppose a testament to either our gross clothes, or extreme washing skills. I just pulled the clothes off the line before writing this and found them incredibly shapeless, though smelling pretty good. Overall, it was a good experience though I do miss the spin cycles back in the US. But alas, when in Africa…
Later that night Ama took us to get ice cream in town, it turns out the Fan Ice is delicious. It comes in a bag like the bags of water. You bite off the corner and squeeze it into your mouth. The vanilla was delicious, much more flavorful than that in America. We went to see her old town, Asylum Down, and deliver ice cream to her friend Sally. We ended up sitting talking to her for over an hour, with the car doors open. They spoke to each other in Twi, with the occasional English gossip, explaining people with crazy older boyfriends getting pregnant and dating musicians. Some of it was amusing, though I wanted to get away from the mosquito-ridden outside air. Later that night I counted 27 mosquito bites on my legs, most I think from Chez Afrique the night before. I think I will start using my insect repellent more diligently. Oh, I almost forgot we saw a man ride his bike into one of the sewer/water ditches I had previously explained. It must have been covered and then suddenly wasn’t. His whole body disappeared as well as the entire bike except one tire. After seeing him climb out alright, the incident was pretty hilarious. I guess even the locals need to watch their steps.

Yesterday we had to go to school early to check the timetable for our classes, I was supposed to have two yesterday but the professors didn’t show up. With classes only once a week and for only 13 weeks, one would think they would make more of a point to be there. I took a nap in the International Programs Office amidst people using computers and talking; I have been tired for much of my stay so far in Ghana, it must be the sun and long days of walking around. We explored a bit and had lunch in the Akuafo Hall Cafeteria, and then had our first Twi lesson at 4 o’clock. We learned quite a bit in the first hour and a half. The class will be four days a week for the first 6 weeks. I learned how to ask someone’s name and where they are from; the professors seemed nice, and we will split into two smaller groups of 15 for the rest of the classes. We came home and practiced with Felix and Michael, another church friend, who were here helping Mommy with various things. We ate jellof rice with gravy, fried chicken, and vegetables for dinner; I love the gravy. I almost forgot to take my malaria pill. Lindsay reminded me at about 9:30, three hours after I had eaten, (I am supposed to take it with a meal). People keep saying we will all get malaria anyway, the pills just make it less severe when we get it. Today, I have no class until 4, so I woke up late and wrote all of this, will go for a run, and then go to school and post it online.
The Captain left today to visit his cocoa farm in his hometown. He said it is only his second year with the land; it was left to him by his father, and he is going to check on the farm hands. He comes from a village in the mountains where the first cocoa farm was in Ghana. The village is now named after that first cocoa farmer, a name I now forget, but is very famous here in Ghana. He said he will take Lindsay and I there one day; I think that would be cool, mountains have always intrigued me. I hope you don’t regret taking the time to read another lengthy post of “Mal Goes to Ghana!”
YEbEhyia bio (Ye-bish-ia-bume)
Twi for “We will meet again”

P.S.
I just got back from my run, which turned out to be a more of a walk/run once I realized how far I’d gone. I know certain points in East Legon, (Blue Gate, American Station, Champon Junction) mostly because they are taxi stops. Well it seems a lot longer when on foot. I used my Twi, saying “Ete sen” to street vendors and people walking which means “How are you?” or literally “Your body stays how?” People loved it! They laughed and replied “E ye” meaning “good” and some said “Na won so E” which means “and you?” If they said anything else I just kept moving, cuz that’s all I know haha. I got back all dirty and sweaty from the dust and heat, took a bucket bath. Okay bye.

Pictures!

2009-08-15T06:56:00.000-07:00

I don't really know how to layout the pictures, but this is Makola Market, and then the little market by the University where we get our taxis home, and then a tro tro, followed by the entrance to our school, and a shot of a street on our way to school...

More!

2009-08-15T06:28:00.001-07:00

So I'm in this internet cafe and my computer died, I had wanted to post more and yes...some pictures!! But now I'm back. So two nights ago, a bunch of people decided we were gonna go to Jerry's, this little outside bar in East Legon. The captain perked up when he heard this, though we were a little scared to even ask if we could go. But he was good friends with Jerry, so as soon as we got there, Jerry opened a bottle of wine and we sat down with some locals and started chatting. We met his son Victor, and some friends including Kwame and Salasi who we talked to for quite some time. I tried local beers Star and Club, both were alright, nothing too spectacular, Jerry says I need to try them all though haha. A bunch of people living on campus ended up showing up and we had a good time.

Last night after the whole market experience I wrote about in my last post, we came home and Ama had some friends over so Lindsay and I met with them after showering. Ama says she's gonna take me to the gym and to the mall. I need to go to the gym. I feel like all we do is walk and eat, which may or may not balance each other out. Her friends kept talking about this club in Accra they wanted to take us to, and though we were told not to give out our phone numbers, we gave them ours, it sounds like a cool place. Lindsay and I had a discussion last night about how whenever a guy talks to me I try to decipher whether he's just being nice or hitting on me, I think I need to get over it if I'm going to make any friends here haha. But the other night at Jerry's this guy who called himself T-Pain kept dancing for me and my friend Alli, (who I found out when to high school with my roommate from last year Ashlen), but he seemed a little sketch and also wanted to take us to a club.

But anyways, last night our cousin Ema took us out to this place called Chez Afrique or African Touch, which coincidentally is where CIEE is having a big Akwaaba dinner tonight. They had live high life music, and after a couple drinks with Ema and some of our homestay friends we went up and danced. One guy told me I was a better dancer than my roommate which cracked me up, but then I was sweating as always and he pulls out a handkerchief or napkin and dabs the sweat off my face. SO embarrassing. We met some other local guys, one who majored in political science, and we discussed how no one uses a poli sci major, he said he was now a private investigator, but who really knows. People always ask us where we are from down here, and I say Chicago so as not to be confusing or go on too long about the location of Johnsburg, and everybody has some family in America or some connection.

We took a taxi ride home which Lindsay and I paid for. Afterward we talked about how in the US a guy in Ema's place would not have allowed us to pay for the taxi fares and buy him a drink. He didn't even get out money for the taxi, it was almost expected we would pay. But then we have heard that often we as Americans are expected to pay because they think we are rich.

Life on campus the past couple days has been interesting. I think the culture at the University is quite different. People aren't as friendly, and there are actually quite a few international students from the US, Europe, and Asia. I often say hi to people first just because they are staring at me and I want to ease the awkwardness. It feels just like the first week of Grinnell, you don't want to be alone too much so you try to find people to meet up with for lunch and after visiting departmental registration or ask what people are doing. I'm sure things will smooth out. Classes start Monday officially, though the timetables havent' come out yet and may not until Monday noon, so we have to come here and see if we class, a very bad process if you ask me. When I see things like this, I can't help but think that back in Grinnell things run so much smoother and we complain about small gliches in the system, where here each process is a rollercoaster. But I don't let myself think too much about that, or I won't appreciate all the good in Ghana, but want to be back home.

I walked around checking out internet venues today so hopefully next week I can skype my family and friends for the first time and make more frequent updates, though my laptop is heavy to lug around and some computers here don't let you access personal emails or blogs. Once classes start, I can find time in my shedule to volunteer, I have yet to choose which place I will spend time at. All my Grinnellians are moving in sometime next week, and I know I will be thinking a little about how much I miss them, as well as my family and friends at home, know that I love you all. Thanks for reading:)

Some other things I have learned in my first week are:
- buy the water in the bags, it is much cheaper, only 5 pesewes (about .35 US) and almost fills up a water bottle, wheareas a bottle is usually 90 pesewes
-be fierce when getting on tro tros
-bring toilet paper with you when you go anywhere
-carry money in small denominations, many people can't make change
-breathe when taking cold water bucket showers
-if I don't think I will like the food Mommy makes, take a smaller bowl to make it look like I ate more

...and various other things.

First Week!

2009-08-15T05:20:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Today we woke up again at the hotel, got dressed, ate breakfast, and went to orientation, much of the same information, many, many questions about academic registration for classes which will take place tomorrow. We then packed, and put our bags outside, and went for our last meal at the hotel. The homestay kids all got on one bus with our bags, drank coconut juice from fresh coconuts, and drove to the University of Ghana in Legon, which seemed about a 20 minute drive. We drove around the very large campus which was off of a main highway; I found myself nodding off a little as I was already exhausted, what with jetlag, the heat, and the car ride. The campus is very large with different departments all in different buildings. We then parked at a building where we would register at the University and get our i.d. cards. We had to sign this big book and walk every which way around the maze of the process to get our i.d.’s and then we waited for our families to pick us up. The kids staying at the hostels, which are essentially dorms, had since seen where they were living. Lindsay and my family were some of the last to arrive, we were both admittedly nervous walking down the steps of the University building to meet our “parents”. As a man walked toward me and said “Marrery,” ( how many pronounce my name here) I knew we had gotten a good home. Mr. Ansah, who we now call “Captain” said he knew me from my picture on the information he had given about us. His wife, “Mommy” also came up and was very friendly. Kwasi Gyasi-Gyamerah, our resident director took a picture and then we were gone. I had to ride with another host mom because the Ansah’s car had things in the back, but she dropped me at my house after a quick ride. Driving up I saw the large houses and knew we were in a good part of town. We were shown the “compound”; all inside a gate is the main house, a separate house where Lindsay and I live, and then an attached apartment, where a woman, Ama, is renting from the Ansah’s. She is 24 years old and makes beads in her very stylishly decorated apartment. We spent some time with her, she offered to take us out with her and show us the town. We unpacked a bit. I should explain that Lindsay and I each have our own bedrooms with a bed, dresser, and desk, and we have a common room and bathroom, a kitchen that we won’t be using. We have fans and there is a nice breeze, though it was a little hot in the afternoon. We then went to eat dinner when Mommy said it was ready, we had yams, gravy, and chicken, (Lindsay had fish, she is a vegetarian.) They kept asking if we liked it and said we didn’t eat enough, but in all honesty it was very good. We sat for a while talking to the Captain, washed our dishes and then went for a stroll. He showed us how we would get to school tomorrow, walking a little bit, then taking a tro tro, and so on. We will see tomorrow… He also pointed out a little place called “Dreamer’s Joints” which looked like a little bar, which could be fun. We came back and Ema, another family member had come back from work, he was 28 I think and proved very helpful already our first night. The Captain took Julia, (who Mommy said was her ‘Catholic sister’) home, she apparently sometimes stays with them, and Lindsay and I watched tv with Mommy. We watched an American channel and she brought out some pictures and letters from past students who had stayed with them, as well as some cloth that she had dyed. We are very excited to learn this practice, and Mommy has a seamstress that can make us dresses and things! Ema had sprayed our little house with pesticide stuff to keep out mosquitoes, so we waited for the fumes to go away and then went back to our house with Mommy. She brought us a radio, she said to listen to BBC, keeping informed I guess. Captain then came back surprised to see us awake; I showed him some pictures of family and friends back home, Lindsay did the same, and he proclaimed, “ah the girls had arrived,” after seeing pictures of our boyfriends and college friends back home. He then left us, and Lindsay tried to shower, but the pressure was low so I went inside to ask Ema, and Mommy was very surprised it didn’t work but said to let the water run into the bucket and then wash ourselves, “do it the African way” she said. Lindsay said it was alright, I will see tomorrow. David then called from back home using a calling card, and it was so good to hear a familiar voice. He of course had lots to say about my Ghana experience so far, comparing it to all he has experienced in his visits. Time for sleep in my new home and I’m feeling surprisingly comfortable and excited for all that lie ahead tomorrow. I feel like the Ansah’s are wonderful people and will ensure I have the time of my life here in Ghana. Thanks for reading:)
Friday, August 14, 2009
Oboroni my first sunburn, ups and downs, and so much more
This will be a post about the last couple days but I just got back from the Makola Market so I’ll tell that adventure first. We only had one orientation lecture today at 9:30 am, which we were late for because we met a man who loves all Americans and stopped to talk to us. He lives just down the street; he said he was very poor and then went to America, became a cabbie, and became very wealthy, in Ghanaian terms, and moved back down. Now he says God Bless all Americans, wonderful people and a wonderful country. A good start to the day but we were late nonetheless. We had a peanut based soup for breakfast and was not sitting well, so I went to the bathroom for some of the lecture anyway, though it was about politics in Ghana since independence, which most of my program members found very interesting. Then we were all a little lost on what to do, one of first unstructured times, so some of the homestay kids decided to go into Accra. Someone had heard of Makola Market, one of the largest in the area, so we decided it might be fun. We had trouble organizing who was going, how to get there, what this place was called. When we got out of the University there were already tons of people waiting for various tro tros and as more and more stopped and people fought for their way in, we realized it would not be easy. Half of us got into a tro tro before realizing it was not going to Accra and we got out, making all the natives laugh. Though chartered taxis are more expensive, one stopped and we asked how much for five to Accra, one of the girls talked him down to 6, then a Ghanaian woman by our side said no, no, say 5, and as she advised that was a fair price, we got in. I sat in front, but the other four were very squeezed in the back. It took about 30 minutes to get there, and the taxi driver got confused because Angie, another girl said to go to Cema Station, which does not exist, I knew it was Tema Station, and it was all a big confusion, as lots of things are here. We finally got out of the cab and had no idea where to go, I started walking and everyone followed, weaving in and out of stands of fruit, fish, chicken, shampoo, hangers, towels, fabrics, everything. And all of the people here try to get our attention by saying “Oboroni” which means something along the lines of foreigner or white person. We heard this a lot more than usual today in the market, I think because we only saw two other white people the whole time we were there. We didn’t really talk amongst ourselves, just looked and took in everything around us, sensory overload, one of the girls was saying. I bought a bag of water for 5 pesewe but that was all anybody bought. Some people asked us our names; whenever I say Mallory, people often respond, “Oh Mary, the holy mother, Jesus’ mom, most of the time I don’t bother to correct them. It smelled pretty bad through most of the market, people were sleeping everywhere and I had to watch out for the always uneasy ground, and people carrying things on their heads. After about only an hour of this wandering we decided to start our trek home, as it would probably take a while. We asked one man who offered to take us, but we declined and thought it might be better to ask police officers, who directed us to Tema Station, where I had briefly gone with Abena on our scavenger hunt, thus I knew the practice of asking various tro tro drivers where the proper one was for where you wanted to go. We asked for Legon, and were told to go to Medina, and get off at Legon, so we boarded one. I had gotten sunburn from our travels through the market; it was really the first sunny day since we’ve been here, usually it is overcast, and it has rained at least a little bit pretty much every day. As I was nodding off on the way home, it started to rain, waking me up. We got off across from the university, by the little market and took our taxi to blue gate, just a couple blocks from our house and walked home, by this time it was raining quite a lot. A little girl carried by her dad, said softly, “Oboroni,” as we walked by in the cutest little voice, and we waved and laughed. When we were past, she said “Bye…bye,” and we waved and said goodbye back. We came home and showered after our sweaty, rainy adventure, and now I sit writing. Our cousin? Ema may take us out tonight, so another tale is surely in store.

Flash Drive

2009-08-13T05:24:00.000-07:00

I happened to run across a guy selling flash drives at the geography department for 16.6 cedis and was so excited after thinking just last night what a clutch item that would have been to have. So even though the computer I am using has a large sign "Use of external devices such as diskettes and USB flash drives NOT allowed" I think I will now be able to write at night in a Word document and then upload it at school. BTW, the international programmes office has A/C. I just used the bathroom though and like many it had no toilet paper or a toilet seat. Luckily I had brought some TP from home...

Update!

2009-08-12T13:52:00.000-07:00

My first day in my home went very well, I typed out a long post last night, but I don't have internet at my house, so I will bring my laptop and post it tomorrow. Today we have registration at school which is absolutely crazy, going to every department to see the available classes. We had lunch at Akuafo Hall which I feel is a place we will probably frequent; it was only 2 cedis for rice, chicken, and vegetables, which is about three American dollars. I came to the international student center to use their computer, so I can't stay on for very long, but hopefully I can find a good source of internet to stay in touch with people back home. I'm guessing if I find time to write at nights at home I can just post them whenever I bring my computer to school or visit an internet cafe. Today is Tigo Bonus Day, which means I can call home for the same rate as calling Tigo to Tigo which is my cell phone network, so I will be calling home for the first time hopefully, that is if my host parents don't keep me up talking for too long...thanks for reading.

the first 24 hours- REALLY LONG POST

2009-08-10T14:53:00.000-07:00

Well I guess I should start with the travel, my plane ride to Heathrow was about 7 hours long, I had an aisle on one side and an empty seat on the other, I slept like a baby after making sure to stay awake for dinner:) even though I had eaten my last American burger three hours prior; I like to eat. HOLD UP: There was no flood in O'Hare!!! My mom actually beat me, I let out a couple tears, and even though she had earlier, when it came time for the final goodbye, she held strong. So proud.

I made some acquantainces on the plane, the French girl to my left asked to use my cell phone as we were preparing for take-off, so I risked being yelled at by the flight attendants to be nice...turns out she had missed her flight and was trying to inform her parents. The two Irish girls to my right had just spent a seven week "holiday" in Chicago, and were very excited about my ensuing adventure. The jetty was broken in London, so we walked down the stairs, onto the cement, back up some stairs, got on a little transit train, went up two escalators, down three more, craziness finding my connection. I made it through security somehow setting off the metal detector and so was frisked a bit before looking up at the screen to see my gate would not be released until an hour before my flight, it was then about 2 1/2 hours before my flight. So I did what I do best and got something to eat and people-watched, sprayed on some tester perfume from a store and watched for my gate #. I found my gate pretty quickly and soon met some people who were in my program going to be on my flight, then once I got on board I sat next to a different girl from my program, and then throughout the flight and after found that about 25 people on board were with CIEE, as was I.

As we began our descent I started to see more and more lights out my window, some orange, some white, some moving, not big city style like I was used to, but I was itching to get outside that plane. When the back door of the plane opened behind us we felt a rush of warm air pour in, and we knew it was time. A bunch of us walked out the back, almost the last people to get off. It was breezy but warm and we headed toward the "akwaaba" signs, welcoming us to Ghana.

I took my first Ghanaian bathroom visit while my new friends held me a spot at customs, nothing to report really, pretty standard. Customs was pretty simple as well, they took no note of my yellow fever international vaccination card and let me through with no problems.

My bags were some of the last to be seen on the conveyor and I soon found one of my handles was not coming out of the bag, but I put it behind me as several Ghanaian people were trying to help me with my bags. I remember reading to politely say no thank you, but I eventually took a cart from a guy who apparently worked for the airport. I then followed my group out to a guy wearing a "CIEE" t-shirt who then took us outside to real Ghana where I was greeted by friendly CIEE women with bottles of water. We then took our bags outside to a bus that would take us to our hotel, crossing a bumpy highway, more men tried to help me; I tried to shake them off repeatedly before one of them picked up one of my bags over his head and carried it, taking it to the undercarriage of the bus. I soon realized these indeed were the ones I was told to avoid as he whispered something about coins, and I had nothing to offer...

All the people from my flight were mostly silent as we drove through Accra to our hotel, taking in anything we could through the darkness, lots of Obama signs welcoming him for his visit about 3 weeks ago. We pulled up to our hotel, and signed in for our rooms, I roomed with another girl. More men helped us with our bags, though I did carry one all the way up two flights of stairs, warranting the compliment "strong woman, very strong woman" from one of them.

The room is very nice, a/c, wifi, tv, the works. But I quickly went down to dinner, which was jellof rice, a chicken dish, fried plantains and ice cream and papaya for dessert. I know this is starting to sound like a lot of eating. I chatted for a bit with new people, then went up to my room for some facebook chatting and teeth brushing.

RISE AND SHINE MONDAY MORNING
I got up at 7, took a pretty standard shower, got dressed in sun-friendly clothing, and went down to breakfast, which was cereal, fruit, some pastries, omelets, and delicious orange juice. We had to meet at the conference room for orientation at 8. It was a bunch of round tables with little packets of information and more water at every place setting.

For three hours we then talked about Ghana, everything from the $2.40/DAY minimum wage, to day names, funeral etiquette, and not using our left hands. We played some name games as well, what would a good orientation be without them? At about 11:30 some program personnel joined each table and announced we would be going into Accra for lunch and a scavenger hunt. This would be our first real taste of Ghanaian life. We ran to get money to change to cedis, and then met in the lobby before leaving the hotel past some security guards and going down the street, already passing some vendors. We then waited for a tro tro, in Twi it would be spelled with two backward c's instead of o's, but alas the computer has none. Anyway, it is basically a large taxi, all the full ones that passed had men hanging out the sides, and the drivers were honking to get passengers, while Abena, our program assistant was yelling in Ga, another local language, to get one where we wanted to go. About 80% of the passing cars were taxis, all honking obnoxiously, (Abena and I later discussed how all the honking was annoying, if anybody really needed a taxi they would be looking and thus would not need the honking alert. Much more there are so many taxis, they would not have to look far.)

Entering the tro tro, I soon noticed much of the interior walls were missing and inside was craziness, all different people going everywhere in what would equate to a 15 passenger van in the US, speeding down a highway with the windows open amidst all the honking. At every light, we would be greeted at the window by people selling things, bags of water, suction cup lizards?, mentos, everything under the sun. I could not wipe the smile off my face as I took in everything around me. I pushed to the back of my mind that without Abena and the five other girls in my program I would be completely lost and confused. We got off to walk the rest of the way to our first scavenger hunt spot and lunch at Frankie's, a local restaurant. Along the three block walk, we were met with countless people selling things, all trying to get our attention, holding the stereotype as rich Americans, everyone wanted our attention. Cars were speeding past us, and there really is no sidewalk, and the sewer that would be covered by a grate or man-hole in the US was open, or covered by a unstable grate. I wanted to look up at all the action around me, but I had to watch my step. We found Frankie's, which is known for hosting lots of Americans, I tried to eat something sort of local, broasted chicken and fried rice; Abena gave us 10 cedis each for lunch, I spent 9.70 on the meal and a soda, getting 30 pesuwas for change. We then tried to find another tro tro to go to our other places on the list, eventually settling on two taxis, who took us first to change over our money, I got a 1.40 exchange rate, changing $100 into 140 cedis.

We then went to Independence Square where all major national events take place, saw the stadium, and the road that leads to the president's house. Another tro tro took us to a huge tro tro park where tons of tro tros waited to be filled before leaving for a certain place around the time everyone gets off work. Connected to this was a huge market I forget the name of, where it was mass chaos walking through women selling things, kids balancing things on their heads walking around, men screaming out prices, all while trying to find the correct tro tro to take us where we wanted to go. We had to do this connecting of tro tro's once more before making it back to the hotel.

We then had more orientation, got visits from a cell phone dealer, a policeman, and a nurse, talking about cell phones, safety, and malaria. We were all so exhausted already, asking more questions, and drinking water. We got excited to hear where we would be living, some are staying in hostels, both with international students, and some with Ghanaian students, and I got a homestay, as I requested! All I got to know so far is that I will be living with Mr. and Mrs. Ansah, a retired soldier and a homemaker; they have five elderly kids who don't live there, but other family does. Another CIEE student, Lindsay, will also be staying there. 15 of the 49 students got homestays, all who requested. I was at first nervous about travel to and from the university after the day we had today, but was relieved that all the families lived in the same East Legon neighborhood and that Lindsay and I could deal with that transportation mess together.

Dinner was back in the hotel lobby, some more fried rice, with beef stew, and "spaghetti," which seemed to be spaghetti noodles with a spicier sauce, not too bad at all. I stuck around for awhile talking to some girls from my program, everyone talking about their boy dramas back home, and I felt like I was right back at Grinnell, gossipping in the cafeteria. Here I am back in my hotel room. Tomorrow should be another huge day, we visit the campus, where my host parents will pick me up and take me "home"...ahhh. The main point stressed today by the directors was to take in Ghana one day at a time, which is what I will do. Chances are my house won't have internet so I will only be blogging/skyping/facebooking from school, which may be a huge lifestyle adjustment...seriously. I don't know if any posts will ever be this long again either, it took me about an hour to write. I think I will take some dad-prescribed melatonin and doze off now. Thanks for reading.

Update!

2009-08-08T00:59:00.000-07:00

Oh there were no side effects from the malaria pills!!! Hallelujah!

Today is the day!

2009-08-08T00:58:00.000-07:00

Nine hours until I leave the USA for four months, I find myself on my bed sorting through my socks and making a final checklist with my little sister. My bags are pretty much packed and as I look into my still mostly full closet, I am sure there is some treasure of clothing I have forgotten. Meanwhile, Madeline insists I have not packed enough, astonished at my mere 3 cut-off t-shirts. My dad called at&t and confirmed it would be $2.50 a minute to use my American cell phone, and $.50 a text. Needless to say, it will largely be going out of commission.

Some tears have already been shed with some goodbyes, some even months ago, but I will try to hold it in at the airport for my family. My mom was taking hideous pictures of me eating a bagel this morning in my 3XL sleep t-shirt, a not-so glamorous memory of this final American breakfast, and I saw some tears during each of our three morning hugs. I know if I cry, she will, and O'Hare does not want any flooding.

I know it will be hard to leave behind my family, friends, teammates, boyfriend, and to see pictures of them back home with each other. But very few people get an opportunity like the one I have been given to forge my own new identity in a country completely unknown and this is the time for that, during college, where I, like many others, am still finding out who I am. I will undoubtedly bring many experiences and share them with new people halfway around the world, and likewise I will bring many home to share with the countless people who have thus far made me who I am.

Good things will happen, bad things will happen, I will make new friends, and I will get homesick. But the largest certainty is that I will come back with an enlightened perspective of the world, with new gratitude for all that I have been given. Well, the largest certainty is probably that I will sweat every day, all day...but I know this experience will forever change my life.

First Malaria Pill

2009-08-03T14:57:00.000-07:00

So today I must take my first malaria pill, five days before I depart for Ghana. I am sincerely hoping I do not get any side effects as I did from my typhoid fever capsules. Yes, I was one of the 2.5% of people to get diarrhea...tmi? My B. Stay posted for results. The journey has just begun.