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!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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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