Last day at the orphanage? Bittersweet. I couldn't work up the courage to tell all the orphans that I was leaving, but I told the 19 year old one that I have bonded with (the one that told me the hour-long story about how she ended up there). She looked disgruntled and said they would all miss me, and that I needed to stay longer. She insisted she would be seeing me on Monday. Today the medical volunteers came and dealt with the open sores and ringworm, which was nice because I needed a dose of Catherine. She's from Alabama, a nurse, and one of those people who I can immediately tell cares about people (ie. instant in with Julia, no matter your temprament). It's nice to have someone I can always be honest with, and not have to continually focus on the positive and always watch what I'm saying. We instantly bonded when we went to Green Turtle.
Speaking of Green Turtle, that's how I've lazily decided to spend my last week of travel. We're going in a group of 9 tomorrow morning, and going home monday. I'll spend monday night with my host family and then leave for accra sometime on tuesday. Then my flight is wednesday morning! To be honest, I think I'm ready to go home. I feel very emotionally drained and I'm not sure how much I really have left to give to the country of Ghana. I think you mentally prepare yourself for your stay, no matter how long it is, and eek out your energy bit by bit until by the end you have nothing left. I feel like that, but not in a depressing way. Like I've given everything I have - in a satisfying way. It will be a relief to come home and feed off of the energy that you guys provide...parasite Julia here we come! I might need a couple hours to like chill out, get used to the reverse culture shock, look at my pictures, etc...but after that I will probably be up for a reunion which will hopefully involve every food group that is not simple carbs.
I haven't received any mail yet, which makes me sad as many of you said you wrote so I hope things won't arrive like a day after I leave or something. I asked my coordinator to tell me if I get mail up until next tuesday, so I'll remind him of that and hopefully your thoughtful letters will find a home. :[ Stupid ghana mail. Also sorry about the lack of postcards. I think this is the first vacation in like 5 years that I haven't sent any postcards out, but there are literally none to buy. I hope keeping this blog up was an okay substitute, even though sometimes I found it tiring to update and I think you guys are getting bored of reading it. Good thing I'll be going home soon! There are so many pictures to go through, but I will narrow it down to only the semi-interesting ones and host a slideshow/story telling night as promised. If you guys are interested. And don't worry, I know some of you have the attention span of a 2 year old and I will give you a shortened summary as applicable. :]
There are so few volunteers around now. Only about...10? Catherine got a new roommate today, who is apparently going to Green Turtle with us, so hopefully she'll be a fun last person to meet. I really cannot tell you how nice it is going to be relaxing on the beach this weekend and not having to worry about anything but a mounting tab. I'm not particularly anxious for all the goodbyes, though. Mum and dad, that's mostly what I meant when I said I didn't want to deal with it all. I don't like the fuss and stress and sadness and awkwardness of goodbyes, especially when you're never going to see people again. I'll be happy once I'm sitting on the plane from JFK to SFO, with nothing more to worry about.
So, I guess this will be my last post in Ghana, unless I get bored in Accra and find an internet cafe. Again, bittersweet. I thought of the one liner I'm going to tell people when I get back: I didn't expect anything, but it wasn't what I thought it would be. Only you priviledged few will have any idea what that means, so if you hear me saying it feel free to laugh to yourself. I'm curious to see who I am upon my return. I'm fairly sure some things have changed, but the backdrop of Ghana is not quite a fair one. I've been forced to do some things I never thought I would, and I've thought about things I never thought I'd have to. I'm not sure it was the experience I wanted before I left, but I think it will be the experience I want after I return. I know for sure I've stretched myself in ways I've never thought possible. The one thing I hope is that I haven't been hardened and jaded by such an unguarded view of this place. But I don't think I have. If anything, I know more now what we need at home. I have learned things from the Ghanaians - not only things I know I want to never, ever see again, but things that can be remembered and brought back with me. Things like courage, and things like hope.
Is this the cheesy summation that was required? I do hope so.
I can't tell you how much I have missed all of you, how excited I am to be back and to hug and to be hugged, and how thankful I am that you all continued to read this and comment on it and pretend, for the sake of my sanity, that you still miss me. Thanks again and I'll see you soon!
Love,
Julia.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Pool Boys
Today was an exceptional day in that we managed to execute a plan we've had in the works for weeks. We connivingly convinced the staff at the orphanage to let us take 3 boys out for the day! We went swimming at a "fancy" hotel, which actually turned out fairly well. It didn't last long, but the boys seemed to enjoy their venture into the real world, if you will. They'd never really been outside of the compound before, so they looked a little shell-shocked as we drove by taxi through Kumasi. The strange thing about orphans is how surprisingly well behaved they are...in that they'll sit still for ages because that's what they're used to - no stimulation. It was so nice to see these kids looking like actual normal children for once. Outside of the filth and ambivalance of the orphanage, they fit in quite nicely with the rest of the world. Somehow their ringworm wasn't as worrying and their strange sores could easily have more reasonable explanations.
Unfortunately I wasn't a whole lot of help today as I'm still not feeling top-notch. I passed out while asking inside the hotel for towels, which was quite embarrassing as I fell onto the wall and had to be propped up on a chair. Still feeling fairly rubbish, and it will be nice to get home and into bed. But I thought I'd stop by here quickly as I pass by it anyway...
Recently I've lacked the energy for a good, in-depth post. Luckily I'll be home soon to have some proper rest and tell some better stories. For now, hope everyone is a bit better than I am. :]
Unfortunately I wasn't a whole lot of help today as I'm still not feeling top-notch. I passed out while asking inside the hotel for towels, which was quite embarrassing as I fell onto the wall and had to be propped up on a chair. Still feeling fairly rubbish, and it will be nice to get home and into bed. But I thought I'd stop by here quickly as I pass by it anyway...
Recently I've lacked the energy for a good, in-depth post. Luckily I'll be home soon to have some proper rest and tell some better stories. For now, hope everyone is a bit better than I am. :]
Monday, August 24, 2009
Boring post
So Mallory, I think I predicted my schedule here quite well. First few days: discomfort coupled with intrigue, week one: I want to go home NOW, week 2: This is pretty okay, week 3: I think I will miss it here, week 4: Acceptance of imminent homecoming. I'm guessing week 5 will be acceptance mixed in with excitement and a bit of stress at not having done everything. Kelly, I definitely still remember you saying "Uh...do you plan to have any fun at all, then?" after I told you about this time table, and yes. I did and and I did. However, right now I'm a bit exhausted by everything now. Like I've just gone for a long run. It feels good, but I'm ready to go home. But not particularly anxious about transporting myself there. I can't even describe to you how amazing the thought of being in my own bed is. There are so many simple things that will feel amazing. I will list some, for funsies. Drinking a cup of ice cold milk, having first treat yogurt, eating sliced cheddar cheese. Boneless meat. Wheat bread. Vegetables. Fruit. Using a washing machine, smelling freshly washed clothes, putting on entirely fresh smelling items after showering. A warm shower with regular water pressure, and that dry clean feeling after stepping out of the shower and into a soft towel. Collapsing on my leather couch and watching a good movie. Using a seatbelt. Drinking out of a cup. Washing off my "tan". Calling faraway friends. Driving. Waking up after 6. Going to bed after 9. Opening a fridge. Ice water. Guitar. Cats. And obviously people. Everything is going to feel so grand and comfortable.
This weekend trip was cut short by efficiency. On saturday we went on a hike to the bat caves, which was thrilling and terrifying. The caves were very claustrophobic and smelled like bat feces, and the constant flapping and screeching of the bats gave me the willies. But it was worth it, I think. The guys who do the hikes were overly nice and chased down the taxi that brought us there, insisting that he had cheated us and we needed our money back. We said thank you of course, and they thanked us for thanking them. Itchy plants grew rampant along the hike, it turned out, and we were itching ourselves like crazy on the drive back (during which, by the way, I could feel the ground on the bottom of the tiny taxi). So they gave us cocoa butter and baby powder, which is their solution to anything skin related. It didn't help but it was nice. Then we drove 2 hours to the monkey sanctuary, where we fed mona monkeys peanuts and saw black and white colobus monkeys in the trees. The guide said there were zebras in the forest, but we didn't see any...When we got back to Techiman I suggested we go to the bus stop and see if the last bus for Kumasi had left, just to save us having to spend the night. Luckily, Ghana is Ghana and we were able to catch the 6 o'clock bus at 6:40. All this enabled me to be home by 9, to drink sangria with francis and watch harry potter!
Mum, you will absolutely thrilled to discover that this also allowed for a trip to church. Not really as exciting as one would expect, but worthwhile all the same. They made fun of me and Alice with some story about how fire is hottest when it's white, so they wanted to gather around the white bits and get fire from them. Bizarre. Managed to get a sneak video of the singing. The things I do for you people...:] Only lasted about 2 1/2 hours, so we were lucky!
More later...Maeve just got here so I'm going to talk to her for a bit.
Still can't believe I come home so soon.
This weekend trip was cut short by efficiency. On saturday we went on a hike to the bat caves, which was thrilling and terrifying. The caves were very claustrophobic and smelled like bat feces, and the constant flapping and screeching of the bats gave me the willies. But it was worth it, I think. The guys who do the hikes were overly nice and chased down the taxi that brought us there, insisting that he had cheated us and we needed our money back. We said thank you of course, and they thanked us for thanking them. Itchy plants grew rampant along the hike, it turned out, and we were itching ourselves like crazy on the drive back (during which, by the way, I could feel the ground on the bottom of the tiny taxi). So they gave us cocoa butter and baby powder, which is their solution to anything skin related. It didn't help but it was nice. Then we drove 2 hours to the monkey sanctuary, where we fed mona monkeys peanuts and saw black and white colobus monkeys in the trees. The guide said there were zebras in the forest, but we didn't see any...When we got back to Techiman I suggested we go to the bus stop and see if the last bus for Kumasi had left, just to save us having to spend the night. Luckily, Ghana is Ghana and we were able to catch the 6 o'clock bus at 6:40. All this enabled me to be home by 9, to drink sangria with francis and watch harry potter!
Mum, you will absolutely thrilled to discover that this also allowed for a trip to church. Not really as exciting as one would expect, but worthwhile all the same. They made fun of me and Alice with some story about how fire is hottest when it's white, so they wanted to gather around the white bits and get fire from them. Bizarre. Managed to get a sneak video of the singing. The things I do for you people...:] Only lasted about 2 1/2 hours, so we were lucky!
More later...Maeve just got here so I'm going to talk to her for a bit.
Still can't believe I come home so soon.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Hehr nem is JULIAHN.
Let me take a moment to assert how much I appreciate that you all have continued to read and comment on this. You have no idea how much it has helped to reduce and rationalize the absolute insanity that it is necessary to simply come to terms with.
Well, where to start. Yesterday the lady who is charge of the care placement for all of the ghana locations came to the orphanage to help us confront them about their issues. We set up a system for diaper dispersion so that the staff will be more accountable for the diapers they steal and volunteers will no longer be asked/feel obligated to buy diapers for the children. I tried to find a solution to the lack of basic medical attention that is paid by the house mistresses (things as simple as putting a band-aid on a large, deep, and infected wound), but this is more difficult. I am trying to set up a placement position that would involve someone going around to the different schools and orphanages and giving them this basic care, as the current attempt at this - "outreach" once a week for medical volunteers - is merely proving ineffective. It was nice to talk to someone who understands instead of denies the problem, but I'm not sure things will be amended as we would like. There are simply too many people who are not on our side. However, progress was made and that itself is an achievement.
Joined by Andrew and our directors, Alice and I left work early to visit Maeve's school. They were putting on an Open Day, which means the children did some dances and poetry recital in the hopes (or well, as I will explain, certainty) of raising money. Ghana is so very strange. As children read poetry, sung, or danced, parents would come up and rub or smack a cedi note on their face. The man in charge would announce ocassionally over the microphone that not doing so would psychologically damage the children. After each performance, the children were forced to remain on stage until someone paid for them to go. Imagine picking teams for PE on an even grander and more mortifying scale...
Last night I had a bit of a scare as I was driving home from going out with my host parents. I felt really hot and all of a sudden my lymph nodes felt as if they were going to eat me alive. I took my temperature, assuming I had a fever again, but it was 94.9. I took it repeatedly and tried Alice's ear thermometer with similar results. I decided to go to the hospital today, in order to definitively be diagnosed with malaria and perhaps receive some stronger drugs. Which is where I have just returned from. What an odd, terrifying experience. Luckily I was able to go with Andrew, who works there, and got to skip the lines (which made me feel horrible, as people were waiting on benches all around and looking at me with wide eyes). Gabby (one of our coordinators, luckily the best one) kept me company for a while, but most of the time I was alone while I waited to be shunted from one annoyed, rude caregiver to the next. They took my blood from the top of my hand (?), and I sat there shaking, overwhelmed by a flood of Twi and needles, as he pulled the plunger (connected to a STERILE needle, mum) in and out for about 5 minutes. When he pulled out the needle, he sucked up the residual blood that dripped from the injection site, and cavalierly waved me out of the room. Or should I say wooden rectangle. Then I sat and waited for 2 hours until they tossed me into another wooden rectangle, in which a doctor (I think) said my blood contained the malaria parasites. Then he tried to tell me I had a sore throat (which grew into tonsilitis) and swine flu. I'm pretty sure he wrote that on my folder, but I will definitely not be taking whatever having that entails. In the end they gave me some more antimalarials, a slip of paper for things to get from the pharmacy, and some very vague directions. I think I'm the better for my trip? Certainly an experience...but probably not one I'd like to have again.
This weekend is a short trip - just saturday and sunday with 3 other girls to see the monkey sanctuary, bat caves, and a waterfall. I hope that after confirming my malaria I can relax, knowing that I don't have the plethora of other things I read about in my guidebook. Never thought I'd say "I hope I have malaria!" but that's what I was thinking as I awaited test results. There are so many more horrible things I could have had, so I am quite grateful.
By the way, I think I've had vivid dreams about all of you by now. Malaria pill dreams are great. I had one dream in Mole that I came home and hid in the bathroom until I had fixed my hair. Then I hugged everyone and someone gave me a donut and as I bit into it I woke up grinning. Only to realize that I was in Africa...at the beginning I also had dreams that Alice was sleepwalking and woke me up. We still don't know if that was a dream or not. OH! I totally forgot. So like a week ago, Alice and I kept hearing banging in the night. I joked that there was a shoot-out going on, but when we asked Francis in the morning he said the bangs were him, shooting at robbers outside the house! The next day, I went out and bought a machete. We have been sleeping better.
I also can't wait to tell you about all the funny/cool/weird people I have met here. It's quite a good set up, really, because you have the opportunity to feel like a local during the week and a backpacker during the weekends. A bit of both worlds. Anyway, I'm surprised at how easily I've learned to trust everyone and how nice it has been exploring Ghana with them. If it weren't for the other volunteers, I wouldn't miss it here quite as much as I'm realizing I will. Kumasi has really become like home, in a really strange and comforting way. I will miss fratenizing with locals and foreigners and I will even miss the devilish children.
Speaking of the devilish children - despite being gone so much this week, I've actually had a few mini breakthroughs. They might not sound like much, but here they are significant. On tuesday I was tickling some girls on the swings, which they find endlessly enjoyable, when one lept off, hugged me (which is distinct from clinging), and breathed an overjoyed "thank you!" as she grinned up at me. I was so taken aback that she had recognized my playing with her as nonobligatory kindness. Additionally, I have been teaching the girls to say please and use my name in place of obruni. Now, they shout at each other "Hehr nem is JULIAHN!" which just about breaks my heart. They also seem to be following my example in the way they interact with the younger ones - I even caught one gently comforting a crying toddler! While these developments, so long in coming, will make it harder to leave, they also help to remind me why I came.
Alright, now I'm going to attempt to respond to some emails. I responded to all the comments! Thanks everyone! Have a wonderful weekend.
Well, where to start. Yesterday the lady who is charge of the care placement for all of the ghana locations came to the orphanage to help us confront them about their issues. We set up a system for diaper dispersion so that the staff will be more accountable for the diapers they steal and volunteers will no longer be asked/feel obligated to buy diapers for the children. I tried to find a solution to the lack of basic medical attention that is paid by the house mistresses (things as simple as putting a band-aid on a large, deep, and infected wound), but this is more difficult. I am trying to set up a placement position that would involve someone going around to the different schools and orphanages and giving them this basic care, as the current attempt at this - "outreach" once a week for medical volunteers - is merely proving ineffective. It was nice to talk to someone who understands instead of denies the problem, but I'm not sure things will be amended as we would like. There are simply too many people who are not on our side. However, progress was made and that itself is an achievement.
Joined by Andrew and our directors, Alice and I left work early to visit Maeve's school. They were putting on an Open Day, which means the children did some dances and poetry recital in the hopes (or well, as I will explain, certainty) of raising money. Ghana is so very strange. As children read poetry, sung, or danced, parents would come up and rub or smack a cedi note on their face. The man in charge would announce ocassionally over the microphone that not doing so would psychologically damage the children. After each performance, the children were forced to remain on stage until someone paid for them to go. Imagine picking teams for PE on an even grander and more mortifying scale...
Last night I had a bit of a scare as I was driving home from going out with my host parents. I felt really hot and all of a sudden my lymph nodes felt as if they were going to eat me alive. I took my temperature, assuming I had a fever again, but it was 94.9. I took it repeatedly and tried Alice's ear thermometer with similar results. I decided to go to the hospital today, in order to definitively be diagnosed with malaria and perhaps receive some stronger drugs. Which is where I have just returned from. What an odd, terrifying experience. Luckily I was able to go with Andrew, who works there, and got to skip the lines (which made me feel horrible, as people were waiting on benches all around and looking at me with wide eyes). Gabby (one of our coordinators, luckily the best one) kept me company for a while, but most of the time I was alone while I waited to be shunted from one annoyed, rude caregiver to the next. They took my blood from the top of my hand (?), and I sat there shaking, overwhelmed by a flood of Twi and needles, as he pulled the plunger (connected to a STERILE needle, mum) in and out for about 5 minutes. When he pulled out the needle, he sucked up the residual blood that dripped from the injection site, and cavalierly waved me out of the room. Or should I say wooden rectangle. Then I sat and waited for 2 hours until they tossed me into another wooden rectangle, in which a doctor (I think) said my blood contained the malaria parasites. Then he tried to tell me I had a sore throat (which grew into tonsilitis) and swine flu. I'm pretty sure he wrote that on my folder, but I will definitely not be taking whatever having that entails. In the end they gave me some more antimalarials, a slip of paper for things to get from the pharmacy, and some very vague directions. I think I'm the better for my trip? Certainly an experience...but probably not one I'd like to have again.
This weekend is a short trip - just saturday and sunday with 3 other girls to see the monkey sanctuary, bat caves, and a waterfall. I hope that after confirming my malaria I can relax, knowing that I don't have the plethora of other things I read about in my guidebook. Never thought I'd say "I hope I have malaria!" but that's what I was thinking as I awaited test results. There are so many more horrible things I could have had, so I am quite grateful.
By the way, I think I've had vivid dreams about all of you by now. Malaria pill dreams are great. I had one dream in Mole that I came home and hid in the bathroom until I had fixed my hair. Then I hugged everyone and someone gave me a donut and as I bit into it I woke up grinning. Only to realize that I was in Africa...at the beginning I also had dreams that Alice was sleepwalking and woke me up. We still don't know if that was a dream or not. OH! I totally forgot. So like a week ago, Alice and I kept hearing banging in the night. I joked that there was a shoot-out going on, but when we asked Francis in the morning he said the bangs were him, shooting at robbers outside the house! The next day, I went out and bought a machete. We have been sleeping better.
I also can't wait to tell you about all the funny/cool/weird people I have met here. It's quite a good set up, really, because you have the opportunity to feel like a local during the week and a backpacker during the weekends. A bit of both worlds. Anyway, I'm surprised at how easily I've learned to trust everyone and how nice it has been exploring Ghana with them. If it weren't for the other volunteers, I wouldn't miss it here quite as much as I'm realizing I will. Kumasi has really become like home, in a really strange and comforting way. I will miss fratenizing with locals and foreigners and I will even miss the devilish children.
Speaking of the devilish children - despite being gone so much this week, I've actually had a few mini breakthroughs. They might not sound like much, but here they are significant. On tuesday I was tickling some girls on the swings, which they find endlessly enjoyable, when one lept off, hugged me (which is distinct from clinging), and breathed an overjoyed "thank you!" as she grinned up at me. I was so taken aback that she had recognized my playing with her as nonobligatory kindness. Additionally, I have been teaching the girls to say please and use my name in place of obruni. Now, they shout at each other "Hehr nem is JULIAHN!" which just about breaks my heart. They also seem to be following my example in the way they interact with the younger ones - I even caught one gently comforting a crying toddler! While these developments, so long in coming, will make it harder to leave, they also help to remind me why I came.
Alright, now I'm going to attempt to respond to some emails. I responded to all the comments! Thanks everyone! Have a wonderful weekend.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Mole, Malaria, Fun!
So of course this is Ghana and yesterday did not go as planned. Sorry to disappoint. Hah. Instead Alice and I went to Vic Baboo's to say goodbye to Maggie, who is flying home today, and then to the market to pick up some stuff. The market is unbelievable. I see entirely new little alleys each time. It's really exhausting but satisfying in the end because I got everything I needed. I was in really high spirits afterwards, and Alice and I decided we were exquisite market buddies. I'm not sure that anyone has ever enjoyed shopping with me before...interesting. So I got home and as we were eating dinner Francis said "I don't think you get malaria" in his cute little whimsical way. So Alice and I conducted a really sneaky conversation basically telling him that I had all the symptoms and wanted to know if I had it ("but what if you have a cough too? And what if your fever is only a little one?") but he really didn't get the hint until I blatantly told him I wasn't feeling well. I hate mentioning that I'm sick, or talking about my symptoms a lot, but I realize that I have a very high tolerance for sickness and pain in general so I have probably driven Alice crazy with constant updates of my wellbeing. But I can't ignore it as I would at home, because if I do wait too long then I could get into quite a bit of nasty trouble. Luckily she understands and is being really cute about asking if I need water and stuff. Francis convinced me to go the pharmacist last night and get some antimalarials, so hello my friends I have malaria. Not to worry, we have caught it early and although I did not go to work today I am feeling well enough to make the 20 minute taxi ride to get here and I will be going to the weekly meeting for dinner tonight. I avoided going to the hospital today (I won't bother trying to cover up how terrifying a prospect this is), but might go tomorrow if I feel worse. Not to worry mum, Alice says she watched the phlebotomist (if you can really honor them with such a title?) open the needle in front of her so they're not going to jab me with a needle that's dripping with AIDS. I've made sure to read all the information on my medicine and it's not going to kill me either. So yeah, other than the horrid combination of confusing symptoms known as malaria, I'm happy and healthy.
Mole! Pronounced like the mexican sauce, btdubs. Which is so much more festive than the burrowing animal. I'll give you a little background on how to get there. You first take a nice bus at 10am to Tamale (lots of mexican influence, eh?), which is 6-7 hours away. From there it gets difficult - it is 4 hours to Mole from there, but there is only one daily bus to get there. It leaves at 2, technically, so there's no way you can make it if you got there that day. So you must "organize" your own transportation to the park, which for us meant following a boy for 20 minutes who said there was a tro leaving. Turns out the tro was full when we arrived. We were flooded with various offers from men who were eager to fit 9 people into a small taxi, and after an hour of dark and stress and crowd and annoyance, we were forced to accept the most auspicious offer - a man offering to take us in a truck for 80 cedi. We squished an impressive 6 people into the cab, but 3 people (me and two german boys) offered to ride in the back in case the backpacks got lonely. Well...it was kind of a thrill for about 5 minutes. Then the paved road went away, and we entered what is known as the worst road in west africa. Manuel was quite a trooper and entertained me by singing the entire discography of queen, pink, and rammstein, and by the end we got Eric to join us in a chorus of beat boxing. The high speeds and ridiculous holes were terrifying, but worse of all was when we slowed down through the villages and all the townspeople swarmed us and tried to "take us as friends". The stars were amazing though, and the milky way was quite apparent. At the end of the 4 hours, we finally arrived in our guesthouse and my fellow travelers found my appearance hilarious. My face, clothes, and hair were absolutely covered in red dirt and my hair was a huge dry tangled mess. Imagine someone coming out of the mines with teased hair, and there was Julia on friday night. I'm happy it was me, though, because I really don't mind uncomfortable situations but I would have been bothered by someone else complaining about it. I was slightly displeased at the lack of shower at the establishment, but c'est la vie. I no longer feel any cleaner after showering, anyway...
The next morning I had my first motorbike ride ever, which was fairly exciting. We then went on a walking safari and were greeted immediately by baboons, warthogs, antelopes, and other monkeys. And then elephants! I tell you, disneyland and zoos have spoiled us. We all felt as if there should be a guy with peanuts hiding behind the tree, but no! Real, wild elephants just chilling out in Ghana. Amazing, terrifying, surreal. We spent the rest of the day at the pool, where baboons and monkeys regularly approach you. One approached my Irish friend and she responded quite casually, slapping the chair in order to prevent him from sharing her pineapple. Wish I could have got it all on video, but everytime it happened quite suddenly. Cheeky little devils. The motel there ($10 a night! luxury!) even had filthy towels, a scorpion, and a connected bathroom for us! I almost felt like I was back in the first world. When we woke up the next morning (at 6, naturally) we went and had breakfast, leaving one person in the room. She ran to get us, exclaiming that there were elephants outside our room! Realists, we assumed she meant she could see them in the savannah. But, much to our surprise and joy, elephants really were parading about in front of our bedroom door! We took loads of pictures and videos and watched for a few hours as they ate and walked and eventually went back down the hill for a swim. Amazing. I have now been 10 feet away from a wild elephant, and lived to tell the tale.
In the afternoon we went for a bike ride to see the oldest mosque in ghana. Oh dear. 2 of 6 had to turn back as either their bicycle broke or the heat and exercise was to much for their poor malaria-infested bodies, but the rest of us survived the trip, which involved a piggy back ride through the bog and plenty of heavy hassling from rude men. The mosque was tiny and could not possibly have been built in 1421, especially so conveniently close to a national park, but it was something to do and the bike ride was funny.
The only bus out of Mole leaves at 4am. The bus to Kumasi leaves at 7am. Convenient, yes? We thought we had arranged for a guy to pick us up at 2pm on Monday, but he called at 2:05 to say that his tro had not been fixed at time. The funny thing about Ghana is that nothing ever turns out how you expect, but things always manage to come together. Perhaps because our standards have dropped to about negative 3, but still. Eventually our guide for the safari called his friend, who an hour later brought an enormous and rickety bus for 170 cedi. We picked up 2 austrian girls we had met and were well on our way to Tamale by 4. Luckily crew has enabled me to sleep absolutely anywhere, and I even took a quick nap despite legitimately wondering if 1)I would fall through the hole in the floor 2)the side of the bus would collapse 3)we would be struck during the insane lightning storm that began shortly after departure 4)we would have to get out and push the bus through the washed out streets. We got to Tamale by 9, and were followed to dinner by the workers at our guest house. They turned out to be very creepy but harmless, telling us that one day the blacks would make slaves of the whites (which was already beginning with Obama as president). An amusing night...
The next day on the bus I felt really horrid and headachey but when we got home Alice and I were quite productive - we did our washing, went to the internet cafe, and visited Andrew. And, well, I told you about yesterday!
Well, we're going to be Ghanaianly late if we don't leave for the meeting now. So until later!
ps. I can't believe I've only got 2 weeks left...it feels like time has gone by so fast. I need to buy so many more souvenirs!
pps. I've been reading the comments and as much stuff as possible on facebook but it just won't let me respond quickly enough. But I do appreciate the correspondence and will reply asap! Miss you all.
Mole! Pronounced like the mexican sauce, btdubs. Which is so much more festive than the burrowing animal. I'll give you a little background on how to get there. You first take a nice bus at 10am to Tamale (lots of mexican influence, eh?), which is 6-7 hours away. From there it gets difficult - it is 4 hours to Mole from there, but there is only one daily bus to get there. It leaves at 2, technically, so there's no way you can make it if you got there that day. So you must "organize" your own transportation to the park, which for us meant following a boy for 20 minutes who said there was a tro leaving. Turns out the tro was full when we arrived. We were flooded with various offers from men who were eager to fit 9 people into a small taxi, and after an hour of dark and stress and crowd and annoyance, we were forced to accept the most auspicious offer - a man offering to take us in a truck for 80 cedi. We squished an impressive 6 people into the cab, but 3 people (me and two german boys) offered to ride in the back in case the backpacks got lonely. Well...it was kind of a thrill for about 5 minutes. Then the paved road went away, and we entered what is known as the worst road in west africa. Manuel was quite a trooper and entertained me by singing the entire discography of queen, pink, and rammstein, and by the end we got Eric to join us in a chorus of beat boxing. The high speeds and ridiculous holes were terrifying, but worse of all was when we slowed down through the villages and all the townspeople swarmed us and tried to "take us as friends". The stars were amazing though, and the milky way was quite apparent. At the end of the 4 hours, we finally arrived in our guesthouse and my fellow travelers found my appearance hilarious. My face, clothes, and hair were absolutely covered in red dirt and my hair was a huge dry tangled mess. Imagine someone coming out of the mines with teased hair, and there was Julia on friday night. I'm happy it was me, though, because I really don't mind uncomfortable situations but I would have been bothered by someone else complaining about it. I was slightly displeased at the lack of shower at the establishment, but c'est la vie. I no longer feel any cleaner after showering, anyway...
The next morning I had my first motorbike ride ever, which was fairly exciting. We then went on a walking safari and were greeted immediately by baboons, warthogs, antelopes, and other monkeys. And then elephants! I tell you, disneyland and zoos have spoiled us. We all felt as if there should be a guy with peanuts hiding behind the tree, but no! Real, wild elephants just chilling out in Ghana. Amazing, terrifying, surreal. We spent the rest of the day at the pool, where baboons and monkeys regularly approach you. One approached my Irish friend and she responded quite casually, slapping the chair in order to prevent him from sharing her pineapple. Wish I could have got it all on video, but everytime it happened quite suddenly. Cheeky little devils. The motel there ($10 a night! luxury!) even had filthy towels, a scorpion, and a connected bathroom for us! I almost felt like I was back in the first world. When we woke up the next morning (at 6, naturally) we went and had breakfast, leaving one person in the room. She ran to get us, exclaiming that there were elephants outside our room! Realists, we assumed she meant she could see them in the savannah. But, much to our surprise and joy, elephants really were parading about in front of our bedroom door! We took loads of pictures and videos and watched for a few hours as they ate and walked and eventually went back down the hill for a swim. Amazing. I have now been 10 feet away from a wild elephant, and lived to tell the tale.
In the afternoon we went for a bike ride to see the oldest mosque in ghana. Oh dear. 2 of 6 had to turn back as either their bicycle broke or the heat and exercise was to much for their poor malaria-infested bodies, but the rest of us survived the trip, which involved a piggy back ride through the bog and plenty of heavy hassling from rude men. The mosque was tiny and could not possibly have been built in 1421, especially so conveniently close to a national park, but it was something to do and the bike ride was funny.
The only bus out of Mole leaves at 4am. The bus to Kumasi leaves at 7am. Convenient, yes? We thought we had arranged for a guy to pick us up at 2pm on Monday, but he called at 2:05 to say that his tro had not been fixed at time. The funny thing about Ghana is that nothing ever turns out how you expect, but things always manage to come together. Perhaps because our standards have dropped to about negative 3, but still. Eventually our guide for the safari called his friend, who an hour later brought an enormous and rickety bus for 170 cedi. We picked up 2 austrian girls we had met and were well on our way to Tamale by 4. Luckily crew has enabled me to sleep absolutely anywhere, and I even took a quick nap despite legitimately wondering if 1)I would fall through the hole in the floor 2)the side of the bus would collapse 3)we would be struck during the insane lightning storm that began shortly after departure 4)we would have to get out and push the bus through the washed out streets. We got to Tamale by 9, and were followed to dinner by the workers at our guest house. They turned out to be very creepy but harmless, telling us that one day the blacks would make slaves of the whites (which was already beginning with Obama as president). An amusing night...
The next day on the bus I felt really horrid and headachey but when we got home Alice and I were quite productive - we did our washing, went to the internet cafe, and visited Andrew. And, well, I told you about yesterday!
Well, we're going to be Ghanaianly late if we don't leave for the meeting now. So until later!
ps. I can't believe I've only got 2 weeks left...it feels like time has gone by so fast. I need to buy so many more souvenirs!
pps. I've been reading the comments and as much stuff as possible on facebook but it just won't let me respond quickly enough. But I do appreciate the correspondence and will reply asap! Miss you all.
Monday, August 17, 2009
More tomorrow
Well, I've officially experienced Africa. Yup, I can die here now and be fairly content. And really, I am starting to make a list of the ways I could quite easily die here. But don't worry, it's a fun thought! Not a morbid one.
I'm using today to try to respond to as many emails and stuff as possible because in keeping this blog I've neglected to be more personal. There just isn't enough time to do it all...anyway I'll blog about my experience at Mole tomorrow, if everything goes as planned, because it will probably take a while to write about. But for now, I'll tease you with the fact that it was wonderful and ridiculous and stressful and cool. Yup. Are you enticed? Also, I'm having a bit of a malaria scare at the moment but I think it's just the combination of headache and cough and soreness and dizziness. Whatever else that could be...But if I disappear for a while, don't be worried. Lots of volunteers get malaria and it's mostly gone within a week. Speaking of, Alice felt better and was able to come along to Mole, which was lucky as otherwise she'd be stuck at home sleeping all weekend. But yeah, proof that it's not that bad!
More tomorrow.
I'm using today to try to respond to as many emails and stuff as possible because in keeping this blog I've neglected to be more personal. There just isn't enough time to do it all...anyway I'll blog about my experience at Mole tomorrow, if everything goes as planned, because it will probably take a while to write about. But for now, I'll tease you with the fact that it was wonderful and ridiculous and stressful and cool. Yup. Are you enticed? Also, I'm having a bit of a malaria scare at the moment but I think it's just the combination of headache and cough and soreness and dizziness. Whatever else that could be...But if I disappear for a while, don't be worried. Lots of volunteers get malaria and it's mostly gone within a week. Speaking of, Alice felt better and was able to come along to Mole, which was lucky as otherwise she'd be stuck at home sleeping all weekend. But yeah, proof that it's not that bad!
More tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Off to Mole!
I'm using a new internet cafe today! I went to lunch with the other girls who work at my orphanage and now I'm waiting in central kumasi with maggie for our weekly projects abroad meeting. We're splitting a half hour just to kill some time, so this is a quick update to say that I am going to be in Mole national park looking at wildlife fri-mon. I'm excited! It's super far north and it takes like 12 hours to get there, but I heard it's worth it. Plus, my favorite catch phrase...only in Ghana once! I shall blog about it next tuesday probably. Be excited.
Alice went to the hospital yesterday and they tried to get her to stay overnight! Oh dear. That would have been horrible. They gave her something labelled as blood strengthener, which she says just tastes like blood. I wouldn't be surprised if this was an informal bloof transfusion...
For now I hope you all are well! We're getting more innovative at the orphanage and we're hanging out more with the boys (because the other volunteers there help pass the time), even though we're only supposed to be with the girls...but no one really cares what we do, so it doesn't matter. Later!
Alice went to the hospital yesterday and they tried to get her to stay overnight! Oh dear. That would have been horrible. They gave her something labelled as blood strengthener, which she says just tastes like blood. I wouldn't be surprised if this was an informal bloof transfusion...
For now I hope you all are well! We're getting more innovative at the orphanage and we're hanging out more with the boys (because the other volunteers there help pass the time), even though we're only supposed to be with the girls...but no one really cares what we do, so it doesn't matter. Later!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Ghananess
As nothing much is going on at the moment (well, that is very relative) I suppose it's time for a general post.
Let's start with the smell. Ghana air never smells like fresh air. It is always permeated by an odor of either rotting plants, rotting food, or rotting excrement. Depending on the locale. My favorite, of course, is rotting plants. After a week in the city I certainly hanker after the fumes of foliage that has seen more rain than it knows what to do with.
Okay, now the taxis. I don't think I've properly explained my taxi predicament before, and Jalissa seemed amused by it. Well there are three types - drop, shared, and line. Except really line and shared are the same, unless you're sharing a drop...haha. Okay so drop taxis are pretty much your normal taxi - you agree on a price and give a location. Shared are more confusing, cheaper, and what I am more wont to take. You must stand at a designated station and use various finger movements to indicate where, in general, you want to go. For instance, for my first taxi I wiggle my finger in a circle to indicate that I want to go to the nearest roundabout. A taxi will hopefully pause by me and I say "sofoline?" or "abrepo?" or "junction?" or "airport?" (these are for getting to/from work). If they nod, I enter and pay around 40 pesewas when I get close to my destination. If they shake their head, I rinse and repeat with the next unsuspecting taxi driver. A proper taxi trip will involve no communication at all, and those are exciting. As the taxi goes along, it will stop and pick up/drop off other people. It all goes quite well as long as I know where the connecting station, if you will, is, as it is sometimes quite far down the road or doesn't have line taxis going where you want.
Are you confused? You should be. Also factor in the strange pronunciation of african words and the indistinguishable scenery, and you have yourself quite the experience. There are also tro-tros, which act as shipshod buses. They hold up to infinite amounts of people (okay, usually about 30), resemble mini vans, and follow a specific route. One man, called the mate, stands in the door and yells out the destination to passersby. Money is collected close to the destination or as people request to be let out. I try to avoid tros.
Also, the mattresses here resemble car washing sponges. The one I sleep on could be considered the tempurpedic of "latex foam", as they are termed, as it seems to remember quite well in the morning exactly how large my bum was during the night. Altogether fairly comfortable, actually. The food...food here is generally a ball of doughish stuff surrounded by oily broth and maybe a chunk of meat (with the hair still on it). They call it different things - kenke, fufu, banku - but it really seems to be the same tasteless concoction each time. Sadly, it takes them ages to pound the gloppy mess into a state of readiness. I often have to hand feed it to the toddlers. For breakfast, I have a slice of bread and either porridge or tea. I don't view porridge and tea as equal, but here having something hot is the only important thing. Which might explain the scalding milk they feed the babies and the boiling water they wash them in. Literally. When the babies spit up, it burns my leg. For lunch I have two slices of bread with jam in the middle. Today I have omelette in the middle, but after doing stuff with the babies I can't stomach it. Dinner is usually rice with a tomato and fish sauce (tomato and fish must go together. There's even a commercial about their love that I really can't explain) and sometimes chicken or an egg. Dinner is my favorite.
The children: in the house I work in there are about 6 babies, 4 toddlers, and 20 older children. I say about because I really have no idea how many girls are there. Some, like one disabled girl, are locked up all day and only come out to pee on the floor. I try to spend most of my time with the toddlers, as they are the most needing of attention. The older ones mostly play amongst themselves, and the babies are either locked up or being fed/bathed. The toddlers mostly sit alone, so I've made it my mission to take them on walks to the "seesaw" (the playground...ironically they never use the seesaw) so they can see the other children and have a go on the swings. One girl has yet to smile or really do anything but glare since I have been here, but today I got her to hold my hand and warble a bit. I refuse to answer to bruni, so I insist that they use my name if they want my attention. Being referred to as merely "white person" has become frustrating more quickly than I thought. It makes you feel more like a faceless object than a rarity. After a while, being leaned on and constantly touched makes you feel more used than loved - more like a chair than a person. Some of the girls are quite attached to me while others feign disinterest - that is, until I make cheeky faces at them and they erupt into laughter. I'm still not sure if anyone is happy here. It's hard to withdraw from my own standards of living and objectively evaluate theirs, but based on conversations with Francis they are indeed treated very poorly. Children in ghana are not given equal rights (which is apparently why Francis does not eat or converse with his children) and this sentiment is clearly amplified in respect to orphans. Beating has been made illegal, in an effort to mimic western standards, but of course these children have no parents to complain on their behalf.
I have also composed a list of things they don't need in ghana, as well as what they do. Here is what you shouldn't send to Africa: shoes, clothes, toys, bananas, water, toothpaste, or anything with packaging. There is a huge box of unused clothes and shoes at the orphanage. Kids don't know how to use or treasure toys, as they have never been given any in that context. A toy is destroyed and not enjoyed. Children don't drink any water but they could easily drink from readily available water sachets. They love to brush their teeth multiple times a day, so there is toothpaste everywhere. There is not a single trash can in Ghana, so any garbage must be tossed to the side of the road or sent home with you. Here is what they need: milk, other dairy products, hot water, discipline, work ethic. I think those are self explanatory.
Alice remains very sick and slept all day yesterday and probably today. She is very pale, feverish, and hasn't eaten since saturday. I tried to stay out of the room so I did my washing, which took over an hour and resulted in a sudsy, damp clothes. I have come to the conclusion that washing is really more out of principle than any actual aspiration for cleanliness.
Wow I was totally planning on a short update today, as I had nothing to say, but I kind of failed. Sorry. Alright, I'm off to brave the taxis, play with my host brothers, take care of my sickly roomie, and see if I can stay up past 9! Bye for now.
if I can stay up past
Let's start with the smell. Ghana air never smells like fresh air. It is always permeated by an odor of either rotting plants, rotting food, or rotting excrement. Depending on the locale. My favorite, of course, is rotting plants. After a week in the city I certainly hanker after the fumes of foliage that has seen more rain than it knows what to do with.
Okay, now the taxis. I don't think I've properly explained my taxi predicament before, and Jalissa seemed amused by it. Well there are three types - drop, shared, and line. Except really line and shared are the same, unless you're sharing a drop...haha. Okay so drop taxis are pretty much your normal taxi - you agree on a price and give a location. Shared are more confusing, cheaper, and what I am more wont to take. You must stand at a designated station and use various finger movements to indicate where, in general, you want to go. For instance, for my first taxi I wiggle my finger in a circle to indicate that I want to go to the nearest roundabout. A taxi will hopefully pause by me and I say "sofoline?" or "abrepo?" or "junction?" or "airport?" (these are for getting to/from work). If they nod, I enter and pay around 40 pesewas when I get close to my destination. If they shake their head, I rinse and repeat with the next unsuspecting taxi driver. A proper taxi trip will involve no communication at all, and those are exciting. As the taxi goes along, it will stop and pick up/drop off other people. It all goes quite well as long as I know where the connecting station, if you will, is, as it is sometimes quite far down the road or doesn't have line taxis going where you want.
Are you confused? You should be. Also factor in the strange pronunciation of african words and the indistinguishable scenery, and you have yourself quite the experience. There are also tro-tros, which act as shipshod buses. They hold up to infinite amounts of people (okay, usually about 30), resemble mini vans, and follow a specific route. One man, called the mate, stands in the door and yells out the destination to passersby. Money is collected close to the destination or as people request to be let out. I try to avoid tros.
Also, the mattresses here resemble car washing sponges. The one I sleep on could be considered the tempurpedic of "latex foam", as they are termed, as it seems to remember quite well in the morning exactly how large my bum was during the night. Altogether fairly comfortable, actually. The food...food here is generally a ball of doughish stuff surrounded by oily broth and maybe a chunk of meat (with the hair still on it). They call it different things - kenke, fufu, banku - but it really seems to be the same tasteless concoction each time. Sadly, it takes them ages to pound the gloppy mess into a state of readiness. I often have to hand feed it to the toddlers. For breakfast, I have a slice of bread and either porridge or tea. I don't view porridge and tea as equal, but here having something hot is the only important thing. Which might explain the scalding milk they feed the babies and the boiling water they wash them in. Literally. When the babies spit up, it burns my leg. For lunch I have two slices of bread with jam in the middle. Today I have omelette in the middle, but after doing stuff with the babies I can't stomach it. Dinner is usually rice with a tomato and fish sauce (tomato and fish must go together. There's even a commercial about their love that I really can't explain) and sometimes chicken or an egg. Dinner is my favorite.
The children: in the house I work in there are about 6 babies, 4 toddlers, and 20 older children. I say about because I really have no idea how many girls are there. Some, like one disabled girl, are locked up all day and only come out to pee on the floor. I try to spend most of my time with the toddlers, as they are the most needing of attention. The older ones mostly play amongst themselves, and the babies are either locked up or being fed/bathed. The toddlers mostly sit alone, so I've made it my mission to take them on walks to the "seesaw" (the playground...ironically they never use the seesaw) so they can see the other children and have a go on the swings. One girl has yet to smile or really do anything but glare since I have been here, but today I got her to hold my hand and warble a bit. I refuse to answer to bruni, so I insist that they use my name if they want my attention. Being referred to as merely "white person" has become frustrating more quickly than I thought. It makes you feel more like a faceless object than a rarity. After a while, being leaned on and constantly touched makes you feel more used than loved - more like a chair than a person. Some of the girls are quite attached to me while others feign disinterest - that is, until I make cheeky faces at them and they erupt into laughter. I'm still not sure if anyone is happy here. It's hard to withdraw from my own standards of living and objectively evaluate theirs, but based on conversations with Francis they are indeed treated very poorly. Children in ghana are not given equal rights (which is apparently why Francis does not eat or converse with his children) and this sentiment is clearly amplified in respect to orphans. Beating has been made illegal, in an effort to mimic western standards, but of course these children have no parents to complain on their behalf.
I have also composed a list of things they don't need in ghana, as well as what they do. Here is what you shouldn't send to Africa: shoes, clothes, toys, bananas, water, toothpaste, or anything with packaging. There is a huge box of unused clothes and shoes at the orphanage. Kids don't know how to use or treasure toys, as they have never been given any in that context. A toy is destroyed and not enjoyed. Children don't drink any water but they could easily drink from readily available water sachets. They love to brush their teeth multiple times a day, so there is toothpaste everywhere. There is not a single trash can in Ghana, so any garbage must be tossed to the side of the road or sent home with you. Here is what they need: milk, other dairy products, hot water, discipline, work ethic. I think those are self explanatory.
Alice remains very sick and slept all day yesterday and probably today. She is very pale, feverish, and hasn't eaten since saturday. I tried to stay out of the room so I did my washing, which took over an hour and resulted in a sudsy, damp clothes. I have come to the conclusion that washing is really more out of principle than any actual aspiration for cleanliness.
Wow I was totally planning on a short update today, as I had nothing to say, but I kind of failed. Sorry. Alright, I'm off to brave the taxis, play with my host brothers, take care of my sickly roomie, and see if I can stay up past 9! Bye for now.
if I can stay up past
Monday, August 10, 2009
Change your style...be like that.
I am quite pleased at the moment. In a very Julia sort of way. Which, if you don't know, means I am satisfied with my discomfort and appreciative of my little joys.
Last weekend was excellent. I was a bit worried about how the group of people would interact and how things would go, but I decided to let go and accept whatever happened. We slept in tents on the beach in this remote "resort" called the Green Turtle. It's a hotspot for volunteers wanting a cheap break, and the food was wonderful and cheap ($3 for bangers and mash! granted it was goat bangers...). I went with a girl from Alabama, one from the UK, and a guy from Germany that I also travelled with last weekend. We also met these sisters from Holland, who were coincidentally also volunteering in Kumasi. It was funny that these girls initially seemed like strangers and the others friends, when I had only known the others for 2 more days. Your mind does funny things when it's in this social survival mode. It's quite the exercise in trust, which is quite the exercise I need (although a run would also do me good). Because you have to trust that these volunteers will watch your back and not desert you, you do. Because you need to be on friendly terms with them in order to have a good time, you are. It's a funny thing, being completely alone in a place like this.
Oh, by the way, it took 8 hours to reach the Green Turtle from Kumasi. I don't mind these long bus/taxi/tro rides, as it gives my mind a chance to sort out all it's thoughts but also company if I want it. I thought a lot this weekend about how strange it is that we seek out perfection and convenience in our lives. I have been thinking about this since I first began my journey, on my first flight to JFK. There was a lady in the aisle having a medical emergency, and it caused all the passengers to begin to talk to one another. This reminded me, in turn, of flying home after thanksgiving and getting sent to Las Vegas airport for the night. You form odd, quick bonds out of this inconvenience. Anyway, back to how this relates...why do we strive for such things when it seems that the very opposite is what makes us happy? I think people are more pleased by their hardships. They're pleased by how it enables them to interact with people; they're pleased with the story they'll be able to tell; they're pleased with the satisfaction they get from dealing with or solving them. Certainly no one in Ghana has a life of perfection and convenience. Yet, when I asked a man how to say in Twi that you are not "fine" when asked "how are you?", he looked bewildered and responded "we are mostly always just fine". Of course I don't mean to say that Ghanaians are uniformly happy. Just that perhaps I am correct in believing that life should be rewarding, not easy.
I've also been thinking a lot about my relationships with people. I do this a lot of course, but here it is different. I've found that when you are completely alone (and I would say that this is the first time I have ever felt COMPLETELY alone. More so than at college), you realize the specific reasons you have for needing everyone you try to keep in your life. The reasons are strange, but I could tell you all why I need you. Some to be positive, some to be negative, some to be supportive, others to be harsh. My thinking about these sorts of things has become so simple. Everything has been broken down into necessities. I feel stupid writing this, but it seems true. At the moment, what I crave most has been spelled out for me.
Okay, tangent. Back to my weekend. On friday we just chilled at the beach and the riptide was insaaaaane. It gets deep very suddenly as well and was quite a chore to merely stand upright. On saturday I went with 2 others on a 6 hour hike through the rubber plantation and bamboo forest. It involved walking through many little villages, during which I found out that Ghanaians rent enormous sound systems for funerals and use them to play deafening music throughout the village for the entire weekend. Yet they don't have running water...We only had flip-flops, so now my legs hurt like crazy, but we were down for it and it was worth it! I took pictures of how the rubber is made, which is somewhat different than I expected. I got sun burnt despite the lack of sun and the application of sun screen. Oh, and you won't believe it but I no longer have a farmer's tan! Sunday we got up early to go on a canoe trip which was relaxing but fairly mundane. We didn't see any monkeys. Anyway everyone really opened up this weekend and I didn't even touch the book I brought. Chelsea, I had a moment where I realized how much I enjoyed playing uno with a bunch of people from different countries and cultures. It's endlessly fascinating to me to hear about their school systems and hobbies and music and stuff. It's funny/sad when we all can sing the same cheesy song or quote the same bit of pop culture. I feel so at ease with these people. In fact, there has really been no awkwardness for me since I got here. Perhaps I am oblivious, or perhaps I am getting better at meeting people. We shall never know.
Today a new girl from a different organization arrived to work with me at the orphanage. This is nice, because it means I have someone to make faces at when the staff does something ridiculous, but a little frustrating because it means the little work I actually am given to do is halved. All the same, it's someone to talk to.
Okay Mallory! So my city is very big. Well, for Ghana standards. It is the 2nd most populated and has quite a few suburbs. The actual city center is quite small, I suppose, but they have the largest open air market in west africa. It's terrifyingly huge, and I won't describe it because the video I took will do more justice. Btdubs it is killing me to not be able to post pictures...I possibly could but it would take forever. Maybe I will post a couple eventually, but really I am just going to force anyone who is interested to come to my house and listen to the entire explanation of my trip along to a slideshow. It's really that or nothing, because I can't stand summarizing things. Anyway where I live is 15 minutes away from the center. I take two 15 min taxis to get to work by 7:30. On the way home I stop halfway and come to this internet cafe. Kumasi is very urban and there are taxis crawling around everywhere and people scrambling to get out of/into the way. It was a bit overwhelming at first, but I'm now accustomed to the staring and the close proximity and the friendliness.
Kav! Francis is just...funny. He's a workaholic and never sleeps and likes to do his "exercises" at like 3 am. He is very high up in the agricultural research institute, which is just down the road. Apparently Ghana is experimenting with mixing cassava with the wheat in their bread, as wheat is very expensive. Ghana just makes me laugh. I was watching the news the other night and they mentioned a shooting, then proceeded to show footage of the dead man lying in a pool of blood. I was a bit shocked and Alice and I shared a "it's ghana!" look. Francis really likes to drink and last night was telling me about how when he lived in Russia, they made homemade vodka that was 70% alcohol. Men would sniff their armpits (to distract them from the fumes of the drink?) then chug their glass. I said this did not sound fun, but he seemed to very much disagree. He never eats with his family but he is very interested in sitting with me and Alice. Oh, this reminds me. Alice has malaria right now, and I am pretty much just waiting to get it. Out of 15 volunteers that Francis has hosted, only 2 have escaped. I'm hoping having it will at least free up some of my time for watching some more of the news...
On a very unrelated note, the guy who was on this computer before me was googling "equivelent of one orgasm" and "how many calories burned in one ejaculation". Another man was on a help board trying to figure out how to get a gmail account. It's astounding what they're willing to pay to do here.
This is probably enough for now...I've already forgotten what I've said at the beginning. Everyone - tell me how you are! I insist!
Last weekend was excellent. I was a bit worried about how the group of people would interact and how things would go, but I decided to let go and accept whatever happened. We slept in tents on the beach in this remote "resort" called the Green Turtle. It's a hotspot for volunteers wanting a cheap break, and the food was wonderful and cheap ($3 for bangers and mash! granted it was goat bangers...). I went with a girl from Alabama, one from the UK, and a guy from Germany that I also travelled with last weekend. We also met these sisters from Holland, who were coincidentally also volunteering in Kumasi. It was funny that these girls initially seemed like strangers and the others friends, when I had only known the others for 2 more days. Your mind does funny things when it's in this social survival mode. It's quite the exercise in trust, which is quite the exercise I need (although a run would also do me good). Because you have to trust that these volunteers will watch your back and not desert you, you do. Because you need to be on friendly terms with them in order to have a good time, you are. It's a funny thing, being completely alone in a place like this.
Oh, by the way, it took 8 hours to reach the Green Turtle from Kumasi. I don't mind these long bus/taxi/tro rides, as it gives my mind a chance to sort out all it's thoughts but also company if I want it. I thought a lot this weekend about how strange it is that we seek out perfection and convenience in our lives. I have been thinking about this since I first began my journey, on my first flight to JFK. There was a lady in the aisle having a medical emergency, and it caused all the passengers to begin to talk to one another. This reminded me, in turn, of flying home after thanksgiving and getting sent to Las Vegas airport for the night. You form odd, quick bonds out of this inconvenience. Anyway, back to how this relates...why do we strive for such things when it seems that the very opposite is what makes us happy? I think people are more pleased by their hardships. They're pleased by how it enables them to interact with people; they're pleased with the story they'll be able to tell; they're pleased with the satisfaction they get from dealing with or solving them. Certainly no one in Ghana has a life of perfection and convenience. Yet, when I asked a man how to say in Twi that you are not "fine" when asked "how are you?", he looked bewildered and responded "we are mostly always just fine". Of course I don't mean to say that Ghanaians are uniformly happy. Just that perhaps I am correct in believing that life should be rewarding, not easy.
I've also been thinking a lot about my relationships with people. I do this a lot of course, but here it is different. I've found that when you are completely alone (and I would say that this is the first time I have ever felt COMPLETELY alone. More so than at college), you realize the specific reasons you have for needing everyone you try to keep in your life. The reasons are strange, but I could tell you all why I need you. Some to be positive, some to be negative, some to be supportive, others to be harsh. My thinking about these sorts of things has become so simple. Everything has been broken down into necessities. I feel stupid writing this, but it seems true. At the moment, what I crave most has been spelled out for me.
Okay, tangent. Back to my weekend. On friday we just chilled at the beach and the riptide was insaaaaane. It gets deep very suddenly as well and was quite a chore to merely stand upright. On saturday I went with 2 others on a 6 hour hike through the rubber plantation and bamboo forest. It involved walking through many little villages, during which I found out that Ghanaians rent enormous sound systems for funerals and use them to play deafening music throughout the village for the entire weekend. Yet they don't have running water...We only had flip-flops, so now my legs hurt like crazy, but we were down for it and it was worth it! I took pictures of how the rubber is made, which is somewhat different than I expected. I got sun burnt despite the lack of sun and the application of sun screen. Oh, and you won't believe it but I no longer have a farmer's tan! Sunday we got up early to go on a canoe trip which was relaxing but fairly mundane. We didn't see any monkeys. Anyway everyone really opened up this weekend and I didn't even touch the book I brought. Chelsea, I had a moment where I realized how much I enjoyed playing uno with a bunch of people from different countries and cultures. It's endlessly fascinating to me to hear about their school systems and hobbies and music and stuff. It's funny/sad when we all can sing the same cheesy song or quote the same bit of pop culture. I feel so at ease with these people. In fact, there has really been no awkwardness for me since I got here. Perhaps I am oblivious, or perhaps I am getting better at meeting people. We shall never know.
Today a new girl from a different organization arrived to work with me at the orphanage. This is nice, because it means I have someone to make faces at when the staff does something ridiculous, but a little frustrating because it means the little work I actually am given to do is halved. All the same, it's someone to talk to.
Okay Mallory! So my city is very big. Well, for Ghana standards. It is the 2nd most populated and has quite a few suburbs. The actual city center is quite small, I suppose, but they have the largest open air market in west africa. It's terrifyingly huge, and I won't describe it because the video I took will do more justice. Btdubs it is killing me to not be able to post pictures...I possibly could but it would take forever. Maybe I will post a couple eventually, but really I am just going to force anyone who is interested to come to my house and listen to the entire explanation of my trip along to a slideshow. It's really that or nothing, because I can't stand summarizing things. Anyway where I live is 15 minutes away from the center. I take two 15 min taxis to get to work by 7:30. On the way home I stop halfway and come to this internet cafe. Kumasi is very urban and there are taxis crawling around everywhere and people scrambling to get out of/into the way. It was a bit overwhelming at first, but I'm now accustomed to the staring and the close proximity and the friendliness.
Kav! Francis is just...funny. He's a workaholic and never sleeps and likes to do his "exercises" at like 3 am. He is very high up in the agricultural research institute, which is just down the road. Apparently Ghana is experimenting with mixing cassava with the wheat in their bread, as wheat is very expensive. Ghana just makes me laugh. I was watching the news the other night and they mentioned a shooting, then proceeded to show footage of the dead man lying in a pool of blood. I was a bit shocked and Alice and I shared a "it's ghana!" look. Francis really likes to drink and last night was telling me about how when he lived in Russia, they made homemade vodka that was 70% alcohol. Men would sniff their armpits (to distract them from the fumes of the drink?) then chug their glass. I said this did not sound fun, but he seemed to very much disagree. He never eats with his family but he is very interested in sitting with me and Alice. Oh, this reminds me. Alice has malaria right now, and I am pretty much just waiting to get it. Out of 15 volunteers that Francis has hosted, only 2 have escaped. I'm hoping having it will at least free up some of my time for watching some more of the news...
On a very unrelated note, the guy who was on this computer before me was googling "equivelent of one orgasm" and "how many calories burned in one ejaculation". Another man was on a help board trying to figure out how to get a gmail account. It's astounding what they're willing to pay to do here.
This is probably enough for now...I've already forgotten what I've said at the beginning. Everyone - tell me how you are! I insist!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
It's amazing how quickly one can settle into a place. I feel quite at ease walking along the busy streets, grabbing taxis to wherever, and making silly conversation with everyone I encounter (I often tell them my name is Rumplestiltskin, from Antarctica. They believe absolutely anything!). Exciting, because that's what I aspired to and it's come quite quickly. Easier when you're on your own, I suppose. I'm also getting used to the orphanage and finding myself somewhat useful and appreciated. They think I'm an amazing artist (hahaha!), beatboxer, and chameleon. That is, they figured out that when you touch my skin, it turns white for a while. That entertained them for the entire day, and they got especially excited when I pointed out that you could make smiley faces.
On tuesday night (despite us both being exhausted) my host dad took Alice and I for a drink, which he is apparently wont to do, and just about tried to drown me in beer. Apparently Ghanaians really like their alcohol, so I sampled the local favorite. It comes in an enormous bottle! He's really good at getting you to eat or drink more by guilting you into it and so he just kept ordering more. He's pretty much a ridiculous, lovely man. He told us that black people don't get sunburnt because they are working when they are in the sun, and so the sweat forms a protective shield. This man is highly educated...
Yesterday was not a good day and I decided early on it wouldn't be good to write about it. I sucked it up and threw myself into work and rewarded myself with lunch with volunteers. The lunch put me in an even worse mood, as it made me feel even more alone here than before. We also had dinner at this fantastic indian place (we considered it incredibly expensive because it was like $13 for the entire meal), and all 30 of us had to cram into one tro-tro (their busses...kinda like a really badly made mini van) to get there. Oh yeah - so on wednesdays we have a meeting, and I met some new people which is like the most comforting thing that has happened since I got here. I hate being the only one who doesn't belong or doesn't know how to do something and I am far better at including people than being included. So I happily introduced myself and quickly had them going on about their homes and what they want to be and what they hope to accomplish here. I like making people feel welcome. There are few things more pleasing to me than engaging that kid standing awkwardly off to the side in conversation, and I know from way too many experiences that one person being nice to you can completely make or break your impression of a place. I've realized that the volunteers here, especially the group I have been hanging around, are extremely cliquey. Bleh. But whatevs, I composed a group of mostly newbies to go traveling with me this weekend. It will do me good to be the one with the most knowledge, because I'll have to organize stuff and make most of the decisions. We're going to a place called Green Turtle, which is supposedly this amazing carribean-esque resort on the beach where you can go canoeing and the like. I dunno if I can handle that much relaxation, but I could probably do with a bit right about now. Plus I should probably give my roomie some space. I feel like I'm probably driving her crazy.
I've been thinking about writing some post cards but you can't find any here. I'll keep looking, though...Oh and if you wanted to write then send it in the next week or so or it won't get here in time.
May I mention how much I enjoy washing by hand? It's how I end most days at the orphanage, which is nice because it gets my hands the cleanest they can get here. This is sad, but it reminds me of rowing. There's a technique to it, but once you get the repetitive motion down it's soothing and somewhat mindless. You can get out your frustrations and simultaneously be productive. It gives me a chance to think while looking preoccupied. If you're doing it with someone, you have to get your timing right so that the rinsing and the washing are synchronized. It makes your hands red and raw and the water is dirty but it feels good. Sigh.
I am way behind on reading and writing emails and the computer is so slow and broken that it takes ages to look at anything. I have been trying for an hour to look at my facebook profile and read my wall posts, but to no avail. Oh, ghana! Oh, btdubs, "it's ghana!" is the answer to everything. Absolutely everything. Have I only been here a week?
I think I'll go buy another hour, as I won't be on the computer again until at least Sunday. Oh and tell me which parts of this are the most interesting/boring and I'll try to talk about similar things in the future.
On tuesday night (despite us both being exhausted) my host dad took Alice and I for a drink, which he is apparently wont to do, and just about tried to drown me in beer. Apparently Ghanaians really like their alcohol, so I sampled the local favorite. It comes in an enormous bottle! He's really good at getting you to eat or drink more by guilting you into it and so he just kept ordering more. He's pretty much a ridiculous, lovely man. He told us that black people don't get sunburnt because they are working when they are in the sun, and so the sweat forms a protective shield. This man is highly educated...
Yesterday was not a good day and I decided early on it wouldn't be good to write about it. I sucked it up and threw myself into work and rewarded myself with lunch with volunteers. The lunch put me in an even worse mood, as it made me feel even more alone here than before. We also had dinner at this fantastic indian place (we considered it incredibly expensive because it was like $13 for the entire meal), and all 30 of us had to cram into one tro-tro (their busses...kinda like a really badly made mini van) to get there. Oh yeah - so on wednesdays we have a meeting, and I met some new people which is like the most comforting thing that has happened since I got here. I hate being the only one who doesn't belong or doesn't know how to do something and I am far better at including people than being included. So I happily introduced myself and quickly had them going on about their homes and what they want to be and what they hope to accomplish here. I like making people feel welcome. There are few things more pleasing to me than engaging that kid standing awkwardly off to the side in conversation, and I know from way too many experiences that one person being nice to you can completely make or break your impression of a place. I've realized that the volunteers here, especially the group I have been hanging around, are extremely cliquey. Bleh. But whatevs, I composed a group of mostly newbies to go traveling with me this weekend. It will do me good to be the one with the most knowledge, because I'll have to organize stuff and make most of the decisions. We're going to a place called Green Turtle, which is supposedly this amazing carribean-esque resort on the beach where you can go canoeing and the like. I dunno if I can handle that much relaxation, but I could probably do with a bit right about now. Plus I should probably give my roomie some space. I feel like I'm probably driving her crazy.
I've been thinking about writing some post cards but you can't find any here. I'll keep looking, though...Oh and if you wanted to write then send it in the next week or so or it won't get here in time.
May I mention how much I enjoy washing by hand? It's how I end most days at the orphanage, which is nice because it gets my hands the cleanest they can get here. This is sad, but it reminds me of rowing. There's a technique to it, but once you get the repetitive motion down it's soothing and somewhat mindless. You can get out your frustrations and simultaneously be productive. It gives me a chance to think while looking preoccupied. If you're doing it with someone, you have to get your timing right so that the rinsing and the washing are synchronized. It makes your hands red and raw and the water is dirty but it feels good. Sigh.
I am way behind on reading and writing emails and the computer is so slow and broken that it takes ages to look at anything. I have been trying for an hour to look at my facebook profile and read my wall posts, but to no avail. Oh, ghana! Oh, btdubs, "it's ghana!" is the answer to everything. Absolutely everything. Have I only been here a week?
I think I'll go buy another hour, as I won't be on the computer again until at least Sunday. Oh and tell me which parts of this are the most interesting/boring and I'll try to talk about similar things in the future.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Settling in?
Today was infinitely better than yesterday, but I still found it difficult not to cry. As you all know me, you probably know this isn't usually a problem for me.
Today had a much better start, as the girls saw me coming and began shouting my name instead of just "Obruni! Obruni!" which means white person. They have already recognized that I am the only one who will give them care and attention, so they crowd about me in the hopes of holding my hand, leg, or really any other accessible bit of skin. I definitely had my chest overtly fondled today...that was a new one. Usually children don't bluntly do such things! That same child lay against my chest for the next hour, which is when the gravity and sadness of it all got a chance to wash over me. Who would ever hold this girl like this again? Had anyone ever done so before?
I see little point in potty training the children (which they seem to attempt by having them sit in plastic pots for hours at a time) if the ultimate goal is merely to prepare them for the big wide world of adulthood that is, apparently, defecating freely in their play area. It's really been great fun to watch as pee dribbles down the leg of a child (who looks 2 but is probably 4 or 5) who is then beaten 5 minutes later for playing with some sandals on the floor. The sad part is I'm becoming numb to it. It no longer phases me to see flies swarm the infected ankle of a toddler and it's futile to try to put an end to the rock throwing that seems to be the only way these children know how to interact with one another. The one thing that brings them all together is my camera. They're anxious for me to record them playing games or dancing so they can crowd around me and act as if they're embarrassed of their silliness. I'm somewhat terrified it will get broken, and it already has the smell of rotting meat and manure that permeates the orphanage, but it will probably be worth it. Everything looks better in pictures, though. I wish you guys could see this. But then again I don't.
Last night I spent a long time with Alice trying to figure out what I'm doing here. I'm pretty sure the staff don't really need us - they have plenty of children to tend to chores - and I've really no idea why they would accept volunteers at all. We seem more trouble than we're worth. I'm not sure if they approve of me just talking to and holding the girls or not, but I've decided it probably doesn't matter. I'm not here to be used as slave labor by the supervisors, so I guess my only goal is, as Alice says, "to make them smile". They do seem happier now. There's that at least.
On a good note, today I made friends! One of the girls who I thought was staff approached me in the morning and asked about university in the us. She is 19 and has been living here since she was 7. She also somehow has a godmother who took her to Atlanta, Georgia, where she wants to go to law school. I talked to her and another 19 year old (who is apparently a volunteer? I wasn't sure if she meant she got paid or not, and didn't want to ask. She is very nice to me and is this the only one who thinks I am even semi capable) for an hour or so and they got quite a kick out of me. Oh! And for the first time ever, I met someone who had heard of neither Starbucks nor McDonalds. I was a bit dumbfounded, with the amount of tv they've been watching since I got here, but also fairly pleased. A part of the world remains untouched...
On another bad note Alice is 101% certain that our host family, or at least someone, is stealing from us. We both keep our money in envelopes, in folders, tucked under our clothes, and hers has decreased suspiciously twice. Mine was disturbed when I returned home from cape coast, but I tried to think nothing of it and thought they were just tidying up. This is incredibly disconcerting but there isn't much we can do. I think telling/blaming the family would just make things very unpleasant for us, so for now we have resolved to say nothing. The cabinet does lock, so now we have organized a key system that will hopefully reduce their temptation to touch our things. I feel quite sick about this, because the host family is very nice and I thought I could trust them.
Today had a much better start, as the girls saw me coming and began shouting my name instead of just "Obruni! Obruni!" which means white person. They have already recognized that I am the only one who will give them care and attention, so they crowd about me in the hopes of holding my hand, leg, or really any other accessible bit of skin. I definitely had my chest overtly fondled today...that was a new one. Usually children don't bluntly do such things! That same child lay against my chest for the next hour, which is when the gravity and sadness of it all got a chance to wash over me. Who would ever hold this girl like this again? Had anyone ever done so before?
I see little point in potty training the children (which they seem to attempt by having them sit in plastic pots for hours at a time) if the ultimate goal is merely to prepare them for the big wide world of adulthood that is, apparently, defecating freely in their play area. It's really been great fun to watch as pee dribbles down the leg of a child (who looks 2 but is probably 4 or 5) who is then beaten 5 minutes later for playing with some sandals on the floor. The sad part is I'm becoming numb to it. It no longer phases me to see flies swarm the infected ankle of a toddler and it's futile to try to put an end to the rock throwing that seems to be the only way these children know how to interact with one another. The one thing that brings them all together is my camera. They're anxious for me to record them playing games or dancing so they can crowd around me and act as if they're embarrassed of their silliness. I'm somewhat terrified it will get broken, and it already has the smell of rotting meat and manure that permeates the orphanage, but it will probably be worth it. Everything looks better in pictures, though. I wish you guys could see this. But then again I don't.
Last night I spent a long time with Alice trying to figure out what I'm doing here. I'm pretty sure the staff don't really need us - they have plenty of children to tend to chores - and I've really no idea why they would accept volunteers at all. We seem more trouble than we're worth. I'm not sure if they approve of me just talking to and holding the girls or not, but I've decided it probably doesn't matter. I'm not here to be used as slave labor by the supervisors, so I guess my only goal is, as Alice says, "to make them smile". They do seem happier now. There's that at least.
On a good note, today I made friends! One of the girls who I thought was staff approached me in the morning and asked about university in the us. She is 19 and has been living here since she was 7. She also somehow has a godmother who took her to Atlanta, Georgia, where she wants to go to law school. I talked to her and another 19 year old (who is apparently a volunteer? I wasn't sure if she meant she got paid or not, and didn't want to ask. She is very nice to me and is this the only one who thinks I am even semi capable) for an hour or so and they got quite a kick out of me. Oh! And for the first time ever, I met someone who had heard of neither Starbucks nor McDonalds. I was a bit dumbfounded, with the amount of tv they've been watching since I got here, but also fairly pleased. A part of the world remains untouched...
On another bad note Alice is 101% certain that our host family, or at least someone, is stealing from us. We both keep our money in envelopes, in folders, tucked under our clothes, and hers has decreased suspiciously twice. Mine was disturbed when I returned home from cape coast, but I tried to think nothing of it and thought they were just tidying up. This is incredibly disconcerting but there isn't much we can do. I think telling/blaming the family would just make things very unpleasant for us, so for now we have resolved to say nothing. The cabinet does lock, so now we have organized a key system that will hopefully reduce their temptation to touch our things. I feel quite sick about this, because the host family is very nice and I thought I could trust them.
Dinner last night was good though. It's so nice to take a break with the other volunteers and help make sense of and deal with everything. They do have some horror stories though. I'm sad most of them are leaving but at the same time (being me, of course) I worry that they don't like me and I don't fit in their group. Oh well. Um...what else. Oh I haven't talked about the food yet. It is very good at home, but the local food is a bit lacking. I have two words of warning: NEVER eat ghanaian porridge, and never try to eat a whole bowl of fufu. The porridge literally tasted like grass and looked like glue. Fufu, a local favorite, is not as bad but certainly not palatable. Imagine dipping raw dough into a tasteless, spicy sauce, and shoving it glop by glop into your mouth by hand. I ate it all, and the goat pieces (sorry Mallory! but there were chicken walking around me and I had just watched the rotting fish fall on the floor, so my options were limited...) floating around it, but felt sick the rest of the day. Sadly, I think we might be having that for dinner tonight...
I was allowed to feed babies today, but was told I was doing it incorrectly when I refrained from absolutely drowning them in rice slush...what do I know, eh? Btdubs, feeding a two week old from a cup takes a bit of getting used to. Then they gave them baths (slinging them around by one arm), let me put pomade on them, showered them in powder, and shoved them into clothes. Then into their cribs to be completely unattended and ignored. I'm getting better at washing! They let me do it all.
I worry a bit that if I continue to write this much I will have nothing to tell you all when I get back. But then again, I feel as if I could talk about this forever. And almost have. Also, if I don't write this, I'm afraid of what this experience will do to me. I need to tell someone who remembers what it's like back home. I guess it's difficult to explain.
Somehow the only good computers always have horrible keyboards and it's consequently taken me ages to write this. Not to mention the initial wasted 20 minutes in finding a functional device...I hope you all are well and I hope/will try to write happier and more interesting things later. It's just all a bit overwhelming at the moment. I'm not sure that even any of the travelling I've done to poor countries in the past could have prepared me for this. But it's not that bad! It's still fun and I'm alright if not a bit lonely. I would like a real, adult hug...bye for now.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Start at the Orphanage
It is most disconcerting that every time I try to sign on facebook it tells me I am in an unsecure location and must enter my birthday...I'll try not to think about that one too much.
Alright, so I will be able to get internet at least every week day at about this time, so I will be blogging fairly regularly if 1) I have things to say 2) people keep reading 3) I don't get sick of paying 50 cents an hour to dance about from one half-broken computer to the next.
Started work today. However, my original placement is apparently no longer relevant. Something about it being "vacated", which I think means that it has been closed down for the summer. The fact that they only figured this out at 7:30am today says a lot about Ghana. Anyway, I've been sent to work at Kumasi Children's Home, which is where Alice works as well. This is somewhat convenient, as we can take the taxi there together and stop at Africaweb for internet, but not as fun because I don't get a totally different experience that we can talk about. There is really not much to do but talk to each other, and we were immediately quite good at it. The first night she said something like "I find it difficult to not be myself" which if you know me is something I can appreciate and be comfortable around. She is very laid-back, confident, and sassy. Kind of the roommate you always wanted and she has been a godsend in showing me around and helping me stay alive.
Anyway! The orphanage! Well, wow. I will probably end up saying "surreal" quite often. This is one of the strangest experiencs of my life. The director toured me quickly through the grounds, then asked me to pick one of the places we had looked at in which to work. I randomly picked an area which seems to have everything from a 2 week old to a 13 year old. The 2 week old was plopped in my lap for the next 2 hours as I contemplated what on earth I would be doing here for a month. None of them spoke to me much, except to say "ObamaObamaObama!", and they mostly sat around the tv speaking Twi. Eventually somene took the baby and I began to look around nervously for a child that looked receptive. Then I remembered - I had a camera! I slyly whipped it out and soon had bout 15 friends who wanted pictures and my name and the sort of food I ate at home. Later they let me help with the washing and laughed wildly at my inability to properly scrub the clothes. I'll learn...It is very difficult to tell who is staff and who is an orphan. The children are either orphans, have HIV, are children of prisoners, or abused in their homes. Some are quite old and disabled in some way. The children do much more work than the staff, who stare at the tv until it's time for lunch.
Overall, a nerve wracking and shocking day. I feel very dirty and homesick and saddened. The children all seem to have ringworm and bad coughs and once they decide they like you they sit all over you and insist on holding your hand. I thought little of this when I did childcare at church...but here the dirtiness seems a bit more offputting. I hope the staff will give me more responsibility and respect as time goes on, or work will be very unpleasant. I want to emphasize that working in an orphanage is not quite rocking babies and coming home with pictures of smiling black children so that all your friends can be jealous. It is more like watching severely underdeveloped children covered in flies as they laze about on thin mats and are ocassionally beaten by callous, disinterested supervisors. I'm kind of glad I'll only be here a month, because while it is alright so far I think the work will be very taxing and difficult.
I'll probably write more tomorrow. Tonight I am going out for a meal with some other volunteers (a lot leave this week) which will hopefully recharge me.
Alright, so I will be able to get internet at least every week day at about this time, so I will be blogging fairly regularly if 1) I have things to say 2) people keep reading 3) I don't get sick of paying 50 cents an hour to dance about from one half-broken computer to the next.
Started work today. However, my original placement is apparently no longer relevant. Something about it being "vacated", which I think means that it has been closed down for the summer. The fact that they only figured this out at 7:30am today says a lot about Ghana. Anyway, I've been sent to work at Kumasi Children's Home, which is where Alice works as well. This is somewhat convenient, as we can take the taxi there together and stop at Africaweb for internet, but not as fun because I don't get a totally different experience that we can talk about. There is really not much to do but talk to each other, and we were immediately quite good at it. The first night she said something like "I find it difficult to not be myself" which if you know me is something I can appreciate and be comfortable around. She is very laid-back, confident, and sassy. Kind of the roommate you always wanted and she has been a godsend in showing me around and helping me stay alive.
Anyway! The orphanage! Well, wow. I will probably end up saying "surreal" quite often. This is one of the strangest experiencs of my life. The director toured me quickly through the grounds, then asked me to pick one of the places we had looked at in which to work. I randomly picked an area which seems to have everything from a 2 week old to a 13 year old. The 2 week old was plopped in my lap for the next 2 hours as I contemplated what on earth I would be doing here for a month. None of them spoke to me much, except to say "ObamaObamaObama!", and they mostly sat around the tv speaking Twi. Eventually somene took the baby and I began to look around nervously for a child that looked receptive. Then I remembered - I had a camera! I slyly whipped it out and soon had bout 15 friends who wanted pictures and my name and the sort of food I ate at home. Later they let me help with the washing and laughed wildly at my inability to properly scrub the clothes. I'll learn...It is very difficult to tell who is staff and who is an orphan. The children are either orphans, have HIV, are children of prisoners, or abused in their homes. Some are quite old and disabled in some way. The children do much more work than the staff, who stare at the tv until it's time for lunch.
Overall, a nerve wracking and shocking day. I feel very dirty and homesick and saddened. The children all seem to have ringworm and bad coughs and once they decide they like you they sit all over you and insist on holding your hand. I thought little of this when I did childcare at church...but here the dirtiness seems a bit more offputting. I hope the staff will give me more responsibility and respect as time goes on, or work will be very unpleasant. I want to emphasize that working in an orphanage is not quite rocking babies and coming home with pictures of smiling black children so that all your friends can be jealous. It is more like watching severely underdeveloped children covered in flies as they laze about on thin mats and are ocassionally beaten by callous, disinterested supervisors. I'm kind of glad I'll only be here a month, because while it is alright so far I think the work will be very taxing and difficult.
I'll probably write more tomorrow. Tonight I am going out for a meal with some other volunteers (a lot leave this week) which will hopefully recharge me.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Blimey! I'm in Africa.
I'm not sure that I have ever before had so much to say and so few of my friends to say it to. Good thing for me you are all here, on the internet...
Um wow. Where to start? Well first of all the internet is pretty slow here, even though this is apparently a good place where all the other volunteers come, so I have like 4 tabs open at the same time so as to be most effecient. For instance, right now I am checking my email, checking facebook, writing this, and reading Alissa's blog. Fascinating, yes? Let's move on to the interesting stuff, eh?
So my flight here was fairly eventful - there was a medical emergency on the way to JFK so we had to land in Minneapolis, shortening my horrific layover to about 8 hours. Not enough time to go into the city really, so I collapsed in a tiny pile and fell asleep on my backpack. On my flight to Accra (capital of Ghana) I was fortunate enough to sit next to the only other white person on the plane. Yes, probably racism involved in that seating arrangement. Anyway, he turned out to be a missionary and we spent the first 4 hours of the flight talking about the culture of Ghana, the establishment of the Christian church, and whether or not it was possible to be unselfish. He told me no one had ever challenged him like that before, and he seemed to enjoy it. By the end of the flight I kind of forgot we weren't friends and I wouldn't be heading off with him. He had brought burger king on the flight for his friends, and seemed surprised when I implied they would probably not be tasty upon their delivery. Cool guy.
My entrance into Ghana began with no toilet paper. And has continued similarly. I was terrified to get money out of the sketchy blinking ATM but I eventually sucked it up, shoved my card in, and awkwardly tried to dispose of the 30 dirty, wrinkly bills my efforts had procured. All the money here was printed in 2007, when they changed the 1000 cedi bill to the 1 cedi bill due to ridiculous inflation, but it's still disgusting and looks ancient. I don't really want to know where it's been...Anyway finally I was greeted by Nyame, this really cheesy guy who spouted scripted phrases like "Yar going to breahk yar mudda's haht!". Lots of hefty, fake laughter was involved and as I sat in the taxi that took me to the office, I fervently hoped my entire stay would not be this exhaustingly fake. In the office I met all the people at the head of Projects Abroad, Ghana, and had my first water sachet. More on those later, if I have time. Then Paul accompanied me on the 6 hour bus ride to Kumasi. The busses here are air conditioned, which I quickly realized was a euphemism for freezing, and they play terrible Nigerian soap operas that the loudest music cannot drown out. At this point I had been traveling for 48 hours and was pretty exhausted.
Meeting my host family was incredibly awkward. It doesn't help that I have experience with German and Australian exchange students, because this just makes the whole scenario seem even more odd. The mum (Patricia) kind of shunted me into a separate guest room, told me where the washroom was, and shut the door. I sat there pretending to unpack for a bit before I sucked it up and went into the family room, where the dad (Francis) was sitting. He is very friendly and I've talked to him quite a bit, but eveything else about the family dynamic is off. I either eat alone, with Francis, or with my roommate (Alice, more on her later!), and I've never seen the rest of the family (they have 2 sons and a daughter) eat. The 16 year old daughter does everything around the house and the boys are totally ignored. Family time doesn't seem to be something they have at all. I speculate that this is not typical of all Ghanaian families, merely a side effect of being extremely upper class. Really, I guess the same thing often occurs in upper class 1st world families. Still, it's strange and fairly uncomfortable. My family is very rich (and I am very lucky) in that they have running water! This is such a luxury and I was expecting exhausting bucket showers for the month. Cold water is even nice after a disgusting day of humidity. It's funny that I was at first upset with my placement - I wanted to be in the capital and I wanted to work in an orphanage. Of course, things always happen for a reason. Kumasi seems much nicer and more central than Accra, and I have been placed with a nice family and a great roomie. She is English, which is perfect because an American would be boring but a foreigner would create significant translation issues. Plus, there are plenty of other internationals to fratenize with. Alice. works in an orphanage and has told me that her children cannot even crawl at 1 1/2 months. They sit, understimulated, as the staff watch tv all day. The staff are frustated with her, as interaction with the children has made them crave more attention. They toss the children about very roughly and seem ambivalent to their progress. We have all brought toys for the children, but apparently they are locked away. I hope my placement is better - it is at a day care, where hopefully the staff is more concerned with the welfare of the children. Either way, I hope I can provide some much needed care. I finally start tomorrow.
Everything about this country is strangely, strangely comforting to me (well okay, not everything. But i'm getting used to it). Sucking on a bag of water, sleeping under a mosquito net in a dank and musty room...it's a weird, surreal feeling. But I like it alright. I met the other volunteers on Thursday and they are from everywhere - Scotland, Holland, Singapore, England, Switzerland...I kind of hit the ground running and traveled to Cape Coast with some of them this weekend. The night before I left, I sat in bed just thinking how surreal and ridiculous and weird it was that I would be getting up at 3am to travel 4 hours away with complete strangers in a foreign land. Luckily, everything turned out alright. Obama had been there only 2 weeks before so everything was all decked out (as much as Africa can be decked out) in his honor. There is not much to see in Ghana, it turns out, but it's interesting anyway. On Saturday I did a canopy walk, which pretty much consists of walking across a ladder with netting attached to the side. Lots of disconcerting creeking going on...then we went to this restaurant surrounded by crocodiles. I straddled one and touched it. In retrospect and at the time, it was absolutely insane and terrifying. But hey, only here once...
The volunteers here seem very settled in. It turns out that Projects Abroad is not nearly as organized or competent as any of us expected, so everyone must rely on each other to keep safe and aware. They all refer to Kumasi as home without a second thought. I feel kind of left out because they've all bonded already, but they are nice to me and more newbies are coming soon.
AH I have so much to say! Don't worry though (Chelsea) I am keeping somewhat of a journal and have already taken tons of pictures so I will be ready for a debriefing in a month's time. I'm running out of time at the cafe! 6 minutes to finish this!
Oh ps I have a ghanaian sim card now and the local rates are the same as international! About 10 cents for a minute and a text. It's crazy. They have internet on their crappy little go phones. Makes me wonder what kind of technology the US is holding out on us. So I might text some of you ocassionally if I have your number saved from texting you recently and could call some land lines, but it will probably cost you guys too much to text or call me. Not really sure.
Oh and:
Molly - I wish I had more Michael Franti because that's the only thing I really want to listen to here!
Christine - no Tom's shoes yet. Actually, I'm starting to be completely sure that EVERY charity we invest millions of dollars in each year doesn't actually go to help children, but instead to the pockets of very happy white collar African men. Terrific.
Chels - I hope you got home safely! We were only 3 hours time difference apart for a couple days! I tried to text you today but didn't have your number. Sad.
I miss all of you so much! I'm getting used to it here very quickly and I hear time goes by like crazy. Hopefully I will blog more soon when I figure the 3 different taxis out a bit better. Leave me comments so I know you're not dead!
Love!
Um wow. Where to start? Well first of all the internet is pretty slow here, even though this is apparently a good place where all the other volunteers come, so I have like 4 tabs open at the same time so as to be most effecient. For instance, right now I am checking my email, checking facebook, writing this, and reading Alissa's blog. Fascinating, yes? Let's move on to the interesting stuff, eh?
So my flight here was fairly eventful - there was a medical emergency on the way to JFK so we had to land in Minneapolis, shortening my horrific layover to about 8 hours. Not enough time to go into the city really, so I collapsed in a tiny pile and fell asleep on my backpack. On my flight to Accra (capital of Ghana) I was fortunate enough to sit next to the only other white person on the plane. Yes, probably racism involved in that seating arrangement. Anyway, he turned out to be a missionary and we spent the first 4 hours of the flight talking about the culture of Ghana, the establishment of the Christian church, and whether or not it was possible to be unselfish. He told me no one had ever challenged him like that before, and he seemed to enjoy it. By the end of the flight I kind of forgot we weren't friends and I wouldn't be heading off with him. He had brought burger king on the flight for his friends, and seemed surprised when I implied they would probably not be tasty upon their delivery. Cool guy.
My entrance into Ghana began with no toilet paper. And has continued similarly. I was terrified to get money out of the sketchy blinking ATM but I eventually sucked it up, shoved my card in, and awkwardly tried to dispose of the 30 dirty, wrinkly bills my efforts had procured. All the money here was printed in 2007, when they changed the 1000 cedi bill to the 1 cedi bill due to ridiculous inflation, but it's still disgusting and looks ancient. I don't really want to know where it's been...Anyway finally I was greeted by Nyame, this really cheesy guy who spouted scripted phrases like "Yar going to breahk yar mudda's haht!". Lots of hefty, fake laughter was involved and as I sat in the taxi that took me to the office, I fervently hoped my entire stay would not be this exhaustingly fake. In the office I met all the people at the head of Projects Abroad, Ghana, and had my first water sachet. More on those later, if I have time. Then Paul accompanied me on the 6 hour bus ride to Kumasi. The busses here are air conditioned, which I quickly realized was a euphemism for freezing, and they play terrible Nigerian soap operas that the loudest music cannot drown out. At this point I had been traveling for 48 hours and was pretty exhausted.
Meeting my host family was incredibly awkward. It doesn't help that I have experience with German and Australian exchange students, because this just makes the whole scenario seem even more odd. The mum (Patricia) kind of shunted me into a separate guest room, told me where the washroom was, and shut the door. I sat there pretending to unpack for a bit before I sucked it up and went into the family room, where the dad (Francis) was sitting. He is very friendly and I've talked to him quite a bit, but eveything else about the family dynamic is off. I either eat alone, with Francis, or with my roommate (Alice, more on her later!), and I've never seen the rest of the family (they have 2 sons and a daughter) eat. The 16 year old daughter does everything around the house and the boys are totally ignored. Family time doesn't seem to be something they have at all. I speculate that this is not typical of all Ghanaian families, merely a side effect of being extremely upper class. Really, I guess the same thing often occurs in upper class 1st world families. Still, it's strange and fairly uncomfortable. My family is very rich (and I am very lucky) in that they have running water! This is such a luxury and I was expecting exhausting bucket showers for the month. Cold water is even nice after a disgusting day of humidity. It's funny that I was at first upset with my placement - I wanted to be in the capital and I wanted to work in an orphanage. Of course, things always happen for a reason. Kumasi seems much nicer and more central than Accra, and I have been placed with a nice family and a great roomie. She is English, which is perfect because an American would be boring but a foreigner would create significant translation issues. Plus, there are plenty of other internationals to fratenize with. Alice. works in an orphanage and has told me that her children cannot even crawl at 1 1/2 months. They sit, understimulated, as the staff watch tv all day. The staff are frustated with her, as interaction with the children has made them crave more attention. They toss the children about very roughly and seem ambivalent to their progress. We have all brought toys for the children, but apparently they are locked away. I hope my placement is better - it is at a day care, where hopefully the staff is more concerned with the welfare of the children. Either way, I hope I can provide some much needed care. I finally start tomorrow.
Everything about this country is strangely, strangely comforting to me (well okay, not everything. But i'm getting used to it). Sucking on a bag of water, sleeping under a mosquito net in a dank and musty room...it's a weird, surreal feeling. But I like it alright. I met the other volunteers on Thursday and they are from everywhere - Scotland, Holland, Singapore, England, Switzerland...I kind of hit the ground running and traveled to Cape Coast with some of them this weekend. The night before I left, I sat in bed just thinking how surreal and ridiculous and weird it was that I would be getting up at 3am to travel 4 hours away with complete strangers in a foreign land. Luckily, everything turned out alright. Obama had been there only 2 weeks before so everything was all decked out (as much as Africa can be decked out) in his honor. There is not much to see in Ghana, it turns out, but it's interesting anyway. On Saturday I did a canopy walk, which pretty much consists of walking across a ladder with netting attached to the side. Lots of disconcerting creeking going on...then we went to this restaurant surrounded by crocodiles. I straddled one and touched it. In retrospect and at the time, it was absolutely insane and terrifying. But hey, only here once...
The volunteers here seem very settled in. It turns out that Projects Abroad is not nearly as organized or competent as any of us expected, so everyone must rely on each other to keep safe and aware. They all refer to Kumasi as home without a second thought. I feel kind of left out because they've all bonded already, but they are nice to me and more newbies are coming soon.
AH I have so much to say! Don't worry though (Chelsea) I am keeping somewhat of a journal and have already taken tons of pictures so I will be ready for a debriefing in a month's time. I'm running out of time at the cafe! 6 minutes to finish this!
Oh ps I have a ghanaian sim card now and the local rates are the same as international! About 10 cents for a minute and a text. It's crazy. They have internet on their crappy little go phones. Makes me wonder what kind of technology the US is holding out on us. So I might text some of you ocassionally if I have your number saved from texting you recently and could call some land lines, but it will probably cost you guys too much to text or call me. Not really sure.
Oh and:
Molly - I wish I had more Michael Franti because that's the only thing I really want to listen to here!
Christine - no Tom's shoes yet. Actually, I'm starting to be completely sure that EVERY charity we invest millions of dollars in each year doesn't actually go to help children, but instead to the pockets of very happy white collar African men. Terrific.
Chels - I hope you got home safely! We were only 3 hours time difference apart for a couple days! I tried to text you today but didn't have your number. Sad.
I miss all of you so much! I'm getting used to it here very quickly and I hear time goes by like crazy. Hopefully I will blog more soon when I figure the 3 different taxis out a bit better. Leave me comments so I know you're not dead!
Love!
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