I'm probably not coherent enough to post right now, but I landed in the US about two hours ago and am waiting on my last flight. By the time I get to Austin I'll have been traveling for 36 hours. I feel (and I look) like it.
I just purchased, drank, and threw away the cup of a drink from Starbucks. The range of thoughts I had about that small activity astounded me - even in my foggy-brained state.
1. There are so many choices. What do I pick to drink?
2. $4.50 for a coffee is about 7 Ghana cedis, which would feed one of the Center kids six meals. Food for thought indeed.
3. So many trash cans to throw my cup into! And recycling options also.
There's a good bit more swirling in my head, but I'll save the philosophizing for later.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
The Beginning of the End
The coming week is my last in Ghana. Of course, I am feeling a complicated layering of emotions. I'm sad to say goodbye to the kids, two in particular, one of whom I'm strongly considering paying for the remainder of his schooling. He is 16 and one of the most funny, sweet, and hardworking kids I've ever met. He wants to attend university in the States eventually. I hope this is something we can turn from an un-likelihood to a probability.
I'm feeling excited to come home, and ready to see the people I love again. I lost a friend in Eguafo yesterday. There's a group of dogs in the village and there was one who was such a sweet and good dog. None of the dogs have names, but we named this one Spot because of the brown spot on top of his white head. I'd give Spot scratches every day, and he liked to sleep on top of a wooden bench under the carpenter's work area just near our house. I also gave him my scraps from meals. He gave me puppy dog affection when the people here just don't get it. He was my surrogate dog in Africa. Yesterday he was hit by a car on the paved road that runs through our village. We buried him by the old school, but then The man in charge of the orphanage and school said he had to be dug up because if we buried the body the person who hit him would be cursed. So the other volunteer (who is male) and the boy (he's 20) who Spot sort of belonged took the body and laid it in the forest instead. I'm relieved that's what happened. Rural Africa...could have been something much more shocking.
The Africans have all thought I'm crazy for crying over a dog, but he was a friendly face to me and a joyful part of my day. Spot, I hope you're in doggie heaven chasing chickens and getting lots of leftovers.
Needless to say, this loss has made me yearn for home a bit more. I plan to spend my next week focusing only on the kids and hanging out with my buddies I've made. Although I leave Eguafo next Tuesday, I know this experience and these connections will be with me for much much longer.
I'm feeling excited to come home, and ready to see the people I love again. I lost a friend in Eguafo yesterday. There's a group of dogs in the village and there was one who was such a sweet and good dog. None of the dogs have names, but we named this one Spot because of the brown spot on top of his white head. I'd give Spot scratches every day, and he liked to sleep on top of a wooden bench under the carpenter's work area just near our house. I also gave him my scraps from meals. He gave me puppy dog affection when the people here just don't get it. He was my surrogate dog in Africa. Yesterday he was hit by a car on the paved road that runs through our village. We buried him by the old school, but then The man in charge of the orphanage and school said he had to be dug up because if we buried the body the person who hit him would be cursed. So the other volunteer (who is male) and the boy (he's 20) who Spot sort of belonged took the body and laid it in the forest instead. I'm relieved that's what happened. Rural Africa...could have been something much more shocking.
The Africans have all thought I'm crazy for crying over a dog, but he was a friendly face to me and a joyful part of my day. Spot, I hope you're in doggie heaven chasing chickens and getting lots of leftovers.
Needless to say, this loss has made me yearn for home a bit more. I plan to spend my next week focusing only on the kids and hanging out with my buddies I've made. Although I leave Eguafo next Tuesday, I know this experience and these connections will be with me for much much longer.
Monday, August 13, 2012
What I Miss: A 3/4 Mark Reflection
What I miss (besides people and a certain dog):
Food: I really miss cold fresh food. Fresh fruit and veg is not easy to come by. I also miss choosing my own food.
Indoor plumbing: but really this is only toilet-specific. Some days I don't want to haul any water after I use the facilities. Bucket showers are fine though. It's amazing to learn I can shower my whole body and wash my hair with a 2 gallon bucket of water.
Forms of entertainment: we have a fair amount of downtime and when there's not much to do, there's really not much to do.
What I don't miss:
Air conditioning: can you believe this? It's just not really hot here and I'm rarely uncomfortable temperature wise.
Schedules and Western stress: I mean really, would you? Sometimes I do miss knowing when something is really going to happen but you learn to deal with that.
Usually, I don't miss news or the Internet. Although if we had Internet it would be a form of entertainment.
Honestly, this isn't a complete list, but what I think most about is food. Somebody meet me at the airport with a smoothie and a cold mesquite-smoked chicken sandwich from Thundercloud! Yum, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.
Food: I really miss cold fresh food. Fresh fruit and veg is not easy to come by. I also miss choosing my own food.
Indoor plumbing: but really this is only toilet-specific. Some days I don't want to haul any water after I use the facilities. Bucket showers are fine though. It's amazing to learn I can shower my whole body and wash my hair with a 2 gallon bucket of water.
Forms of entertainment: we have a fair amount of downtime and when there's not much to do, there's really not much to do.
What I don't miss:
Air conditioning: can you believe this? It's just not really hot here and I'm rarely uncomfortable temperature wise.
Schedules and Western stress: I mean really, would you? Sometimes I do miss knowing when something is really going to happen but you learn to deal with that.
Usually, I don't miss news or the Internet. Although if we had Internet it would be a form of entertainment.
Honestly, this isn't a complete list, but what I think most about is food. Somebody meet me at the airport with a smoothie and a cold mesquite-smoked chicken sandwich from Thundercloud! Yum, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.
Friday, August 10, 2012
The Luxury of Quiet
It turns out that a little peace and quiet is a first world luxury (of course, this is based only on my limited developing world experience). There is never a guarantee of silence around here. Your best bet is on a weeknight between midnight and 4 AM. Try to get REM sleep in that window.
After 4 AM, the roosters start crowing. One was on the porch this morning, approximately six feet away from my head through a screen window. After the rooster, the buckets of water start filling at the faucet in front of our house around five. With buckets come people, of course, and while Ghanaians are generally friendly and helpful, they are a boisterous bunch at any hour. There are many early and loud discussions/arguments/conversations in Fante around the faucet (fifteen feet from my head).
Roosters are roosters, people are people, but the real head scratcher is the village loudspeaker. It starts playing African pop music (usually static-y) about 5:45 AM and continues most of the morning. On Sundays, it plays hymns. [Although this past Sunday the loud speaker was beaten to the punch by a roaming creature/lunatic SCREAMING in Fante about Jesus in front of our house at 5 AM. We were a grumpy group at breakfast.]
Besides the random screaming creatures/people, the loudspeaker is the worst. Especially the static.
The rest of the day is a hodgepodge of people, chickens, goats, loudspeaker. In a village like this, there is little to no personal space, and no central air means screened open windows. Earplugs muffle but don't eliminate. I've found the best solution for a mental escape is to put in earbuds and play non-static-y music of my choice.
The past few days have been particularly noisy in Eguafo. There was a street party Monday night, with lots of dancing in preparation for Tuesday's festival swearing in a new chief of Eguafo. There was a street procession with a marching band, lots of people in traditional dress, the new chief with a crown and goblet of gold (this was the gold coast, afterall) and a man who had a goat slung over his shoulder. I heard the goat was going to be slaughtered and then its blood poured across the new chief's feet. There was music all day and night in celebration.
Although all this noise is so strange to my Western ears, I wonder if after two months of this the peace and quiet of my house will take some adjustment as well.
After 4 AM, the roosters start crowing. One was on the porch this morning, approximately six feet away from my head through a screen window. After the rooster, the buckets of water start filling at the faucet in front of our house around five. With buckets come people, of course, and while Ghanaians are generally friendly and helpful, they are a boisterous bunch at any hour. There are many early and loud discussions/arguments/conversations in Fante around the faucet (fifteen feet from my head).
Roosters are roosters, people are people, but the real head scratcher is the village loudspeaker. It starts playing African pop music (usually static-y) about 5:45 AM and continues most of the morning. On Sundays, it plays hymns. [Although this past Sunday the loud speaker was beaten to the punch by a roaming creature/lunatic SCREAMING in Fante about Jesus in front of our house at 5 AM. We were a grumpy group at breakfast.]
Besides the random screaming creatures/people, the loudspeaker is the worst. Especially the static.
The rest of the day is a hodgepodge of people, chickens, goats, loudspeaker. In a village like this, there is little to no personal space, and no central air means screened open windows. Earplugs muffle but don't eliminate. I've found the best solution for a mental escape is to put in earbuds and play non-static-y music of my choice.
The past few days have been particularly noisy in Eguafo. There was a street party Monday night, with lots of dancing in preparation for Tuesday's festival swearing in a new chief of Eguafo. There was a street procession with a marching band, lots of people in traditional dress, the new chief with a crown and goblet of gold (this was the gold coast, afterall) and a man who had a goat slung over his shoulder. I heard the goat was going to be slaughtered and then its blood poured across the new chief's feet. There was music all day and night in celebration.
Although all this noise is so strange to my Western ears, I wonder if after two months of this the peace and quiet of my house will take some adjustment as well.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Tinkle Ball
This week the kids were doing African drumming and dancing at the center. There's always a big crowd watching on the steps, which are raised above the drummers, with a porch and entrance to the center above and behind the steps. We were sitting on the stairs watching, and some of the smaller village kids were playing with a beach ball behind us. Sometimes it would roll or fly onto innocent spectators.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch one of the babies (eighteen months, maybe) tinkle right on the porch and make a big puddle. [see post on trash]
With the drumming and dancing still going on, the other kids continue throwing/rolling the beach ball on the porch. Totally grossed out, I caught the eye of Katie, a fellow volunteer, and we dissolved into laughter as we tried to dodge the ball that was now covered in tinkle. And so was born the game known as Tinkleball.
T.I.A. (This Is Africa)
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch one of the babies (eighteen months, maybe) tinkle right on the porch and make a big puddle. [see post on trash]
With the drumming and dancing still going on, the other kids continue throwing/rolling the beach ball on the porch. Totally grossed out, I caught the eye of Katie, a fellow volunteer, and we dissolved into laughter as we tried to dodge the ball that was now covered in tinkle. And so was born the game known as Tinkleball.
T.I.A. (This Is Africa)
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Finding a Niche
I can never decide if that word is pronounced "nitch" or "neesh", but I think I finally found one here in Eguafo. We have had several volunteers leave in the past two weeks. I miss them but going from 8 volunteers to 4 seems to have opened more energetic space. And physical space too, since i now have my room to myself.
I've been looking for something that can be my pet project while I'm here; some small thing I can do to make a small difference. So last week while in Cape Coast, I tracked down a packet of needles and two spools of thread. And I began mending clothes. At first I was focusing on school uniforms, because the children wear them everyday and most of them have sleeves hanging half off, or the bottom seam of their pants ripped open. Then I started getting all types of things given to me. Soccer shorts, skirts, trousers, anything really. It's a minor thing, but I feel productive and the kids get to keep wearing their clothes. Well, they'd wear them anyway but at least now their underwear aren't hanging out the back of their pants.
I've also gotten to know some of the Center kids so much better, and we have some characters. Last week, the kids were breaking up rocks into gravel to spread under the tile of the new orphanage building - at least that's my guess at the purpose - and one boy Dominic who is 12 was sitting on top of the barrel the workers mix concrete in. He's a skinny little dude with the best giggle, and I looked over at one point and gravity had taken over. His rear end had sunk down in the barrel and his arms and legs were sticking straight up and he couldn't get out or stop giggling. Edwin, one of the older boys, had to go lift him out. It was good comic relief - in fact, Dominic usually is.
These kiddos start to dig in to your heart, and you see so much potential in some of them, but with very little outlet. They will be hard to say goodbye to.
I've been looking for something that can be my pet project while I'm here; some small thing I can do to make a small difference. So last week while in Cape Coast, I tracked down a packet of needles and two spools of thread. And I began mending clothes. At first I was focusing on school uniforms, because the children wear them everyday and most of them have sleeves hanging half off, or the bottom seam of their pants ripped open. Then I started getting all types of things given to me. Soccer shorts, skirts, trousers, anything really. It's a minor thing, but I feel productive and the kids get to keep wearing their clothes. Well, they'd wear them anyway but at least now their underwear aren't hanging out the back of their pants.
I've also gotten to know some of the Center kids so much better, and we have some characters. Last week, the kids were breaking up rocks into gravel to spread under the tile of the new orphanage building - at least that's my guess at the purpose - and one boy Dominic who is 12 was sitting on top of the barrel the workers mix concrete in. He's a skinny little dude with the best giggle, and I looked over at one point and gravity had taken over. His rear end had sunk down in the barrel and his arms and legs were sticking straight up and he couldn't get out or stop giggling. Edwin, one of the older boys, had to go lift him out. It was good comic relief - in fact, Dominic usually is.
These kiddos start to dig in to your heart, and you see so much potential in some of them, but with very little outlet. They will be hard to say goodbye to.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Tough Cookies
I realized I haven't written much about the school and the kids. The orphanage, Sankofa Children's Home (you can google that for the web page) is home to about 18 kids, most of them adolescents. The youngest is probably 8. They range from a few kids whose parents or relatives can't afford to care for them, some children who were street hustlers and have been brought to live in Eguafo, and a few whose parents didn't want them, for whatever reason. Hard to imagine, I know. Because the kids are older, our duties at the orphanage are pretty minimal - we work mostly at Sankofa school, which serves teh village children ranging in age from 2 years to 20 years (preK through grade 9). We do spend time with the children at the orphanage - which we call the Center - watching them have their traditional African dance and drumming lessons and tutoring them, and just generally speaking English with them. One of our group volunteer goals before we leave is to make sure all the kids get mosquito nets. Right now, i believe only 3 have nets.
Days at school are pretty chaotic. Besides the obvious physical differences between a rural African school and a US school, i've also found that teachers sometimes just choose to not show up, to leave, or to go to the break area and nap. And you can probably guess there's no such thing as substitute teachers here. As volunteers, we try to cobble together a lesson whenever possible, but discipline is pretty much out the window because the students know that we won't cane them - unlike their teachers. You end up just trying to find small ways to feel like you're doing anything, such as taking one student aside and explaining addition for the umpteenth time with your fingers. Or holding the little ones, because they just want to be picked up.
The kids are also tough. An American child wouldn't last 5 minutes. Not only do kids regularly get caned for bad behavior or bad grades, but they also wale on each other constantly. I've had to pull 8-year-olds apart more than once. It's so amazing - they beat on each other, scream and cry, and get over it. Tough cookies. I guess when you're hauling 3 gallon buckets of water on your head from the age of 6, you're no pansy. They also sharpen their pencils with razor blades. Now there's a surprise - you start to confiscate it but realize they're only trying to sharpen their pencil, and then they put it back in their pocket (or their mouth sometimes!). More than one fight has been nterrupted with half-sharpened pencil and razor blade in hand.
Of course, the students are also very sweet and generous. While they may ask for money or toffee (generic word for candy) without flinching, they will also offer me a bite of their rice-in-plastic-bag snack (no thank you) or help me with my laundry or sweep our front porch. Next week is the last week of exams (another study in lack of infrastructure and organized time) at the school, and then it's summer break for them for August. I think we'll be working more closely with the Center kids during August and helping construct the new house they are building.
One day here begins to drift into the next. They are all generally the same, but different in small ways. You start to wonder what it would be like if this was what your future held, and there wasn't an end date to your time here...I think there is just a whole different mindset. It's something we discuss a lot around the dinner table. Thanks to all of you that are reading and keeping up with me. I look forward to sharing my adventures with you in person in September!
Days at school are pretty chaotic. Besides the obvious physical differences between a rural African school and a US school, i've also found that teachers sometimes just choose to not show up, to leave, or to go to the break area and nap. And you can probably guess there's no such thing as substitute teachers here. As volunteers, we try to cobble together a lesson whenever possible, but discipline is pretty much out the window because the students know that we won't cane them - unlike their teachers. You end up just trying to find small ways to feel like you're doing anything, such as taking one student aside and explaining addition for the umpteenth time with your fingers. Or holding the little ones, because they just want to be picked up.
The kids are also tough. An American child wouldn't last 5 minutes. Not only do kids regularly get caned for bad behavior or bad grades, but they also wale on each other constantly. I've had to pull 8-year-olds apart more than once. It's so amazing - they beat on each other, scream and cry, and get over it. Tough cookies. I guess when you're hauling 3 gallon buckets of water on your head from the age of 6, you're no pansy. They also sharpen their pencils with razor blades. Now there's a surprise - you start to confiscate it but realize they're only trying to sharpen their pencil, and then they put it back in their pocket (or their mouth sometimes!). More than one fight has been nterrupted with half-sharpened pencil and razor blade in hand.
Of course, the students are also very sweet and generous. While they may ask for money or toffee (generic word for candy) without flinching, they will also offer me a bite of their rice-in-plastic-bag snack (no thank you) or help me with my laundry or sweep our front porch. Next week is the last week of exams (another study in lack of infrastructure and organized time) at the school, and then it's summer break for them for August. I think we'll be working more closely with the Center kids during August and helping construct the new house they are building.
One day here begins to drift into the next. They are all generally the same, but different in small ways. You start to wonder what it would be like if this was what your future held, and there wasn't an end date to your time here...I think there is just a whole different mindset. It's something we discuss a lot around the dinner table. Thanks to all of you that are reading and keeping up with me. I look forward to sharing my adventures with you in person in September!
Monday, July 16, 2012
Trash, And Other Thoughts
Until very recently I had not seen a real trash can in this country. It's funny to realize how ingrained it is in us from an early age to put waste in some sort of receptacle. Here, not so. Trash is thrown on the ground, in the gutters (3 foot deep crevasses in the streets), out windows - anywhere basically. I walk by one sizable trash pile on my way to school each day. The smell is significant and there's usually chickens digging through it for morsels. Delish. In Eguafo we have one bag in our kitchen for trash, and I'm pretty sure it just gets dumped in the heap. But hey, at least the obruni feel better. When you're in a city, you learn to just throw the trash down. It feels WRONG, but if you didn't, you'd just have pockets full of trash. (Not to be overly graphic, but this same principle generally applies to human waste. I've seen people go pretty much anywhere. I try to admire the lack of shame for general functions of the human body...)
Anyway, this weekend two other volunteers and I traveled to Koforidua in the Eastern region of Ghana. Travel here is not easy. It couldn't have been more than 160 km total, but it was 7 hours each way of bone - jarring trotro ride. I'm learning to turn a switch in my brain and become catatonic to endure the rides. The main reason we went to Koforidua was to visit Boti Falls. The falls were beautiful, maybe 60 foot drop into a lagoon. It wasn't crowded either and was reminiscent ofJurassicPark, minus the velociraptors.
Imagine my surprise to see a legitimate trash can at Boti Falls. With wheels and a lid and everything. How commendable to try to keep nature unspoiled! I was so amazed by this trash can, and kept looking at it. Looked just like ones at home. As I got closer and looked at the top of the lid, I see "Property of City of Austin" on this green trash can in the middle of the Ghanaian bush. I was completely shocked - I think I screamed even. Multiple pictures were then taken as proof.
Then, leaving the falls we caught a trotro heading back into town. We climbed into the very back row and set off. Sixty seconds later we hear a very loud and distressed "MAAAAAA!!". We scream, turn around, and there's a goat tied up in the cargo space behind us. My first vehicular livestock experience. I told myself he was being taken to meet his new wives, and not some less happy ending. The next ten minutes of the ride were punctuated with the goat wailing every 20 seconds. I was glad for him when he and the farmer reached their stop.
Besides seeing objects from home and goats in minivans, traveling within Ghana makes me grateful for Eguafo, and that's good perspective. I'm not just obruni in Eguafo, but when I walk up to buy toilet paper (no Quilted Northern, mind you) or a Fanta, kids call out "Madam Amanda!". A good reminder that while I'm far away from home, Eguafo is my African home for now.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Mind Over Matter
This past weekend some other volunteers and I went to Kakum Natl Park. It's a rainforest and they have this canopy walk through the trees. It's supposedly 30 meters above the ground. Um, not sure, but it's pretty high and the bridges are ladders with wooden planks over them, roped together with net around them. If you know me you know my moderate aversion to heights. But I did it! Seven bridges through the African rainforest and it was beautiful. As with most things on this whole trip, it's mind over matter. If I wasn't good at that before I will be when I leave.
After Kakum we went to a monkey sanctuary nearby that was started by a Dutch couple who moved to Ghana nine years ago and have lived in the bush since. No electricity, running water or Internet. They didn't know Obama was president until 15 months after the fact. They rehabilitate orphaned animals and reintroduce them into Kakum. We saw monkeys, civet cats, hyras (?), and snakes. There was a green mamba who had fallen into the snake pit from a tree. Um, if it can coincidentally fall in the snake pit, I'm sure it could happen to land on a shoulder. Deadly poisonous snake. Awesome.
We then had lunch at a place where you can pet crocodiles. I maintained a respectful distance between the croc and myself. Our transport for the day was tro-tro. Imagine the oldest, squeakiest minivan possible and the. Drive it over pothole covered dirt roads at 50 miles an hour. If you pretend it's a roller coaster and let your. Key relax like jelly it's not so bad.
Weekend excursions seem to be a necessary diversion from life in Eguafo. It makes the time tick by a bit more quickly and spices up the routi e. it's hard to feel very impactful here - but i think that as with most things you have to find the small ways you can make a difference. I've started reading books in English to Comfort, a neighbors child, each night. I help a fellow volunteer with evening tutoring, and just hang out with the orphanage kids (who are all mostly teenagers so don't need bath/bedtime help).
This is certainly not an easy experience and I already feel the quick lessons of gratitude for my life in the West. Mind over matter.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Culture Shock...And Awe
Well this has been quite a week. I arrived ni Eguafo, my village, on monday and it was a slap in the face. Not in a bad or a good way, but life is completely different than anything i've ever experienced. There are 7 other volunteers in the 'house'. We have two rooms with two sets of bunk beds and that's it. We have electricity, which most of our village does, so it's actually quite luxurious in that erspect. We have the only flushing toilet in Eguafo - granted, you have to walk to the faucet on our side o fthe village to fill a bucket to fill the tank to flush - but still. Every evening i enjoy my bucket shower. We have a wooden stall next to the tiolet that we stand in and dump water over yourself from a bucket. Quite refreshing, actually.
It's very difficult to put into words what life is like here. Extended camping trip with a roof, I suppose. There are goats, dogs, cats, chickens, and ducks everywhere. The goats make such a racket but generally quiet down at night. \i was wakened this morning by hymns played over teh village loudspeaker and the routine crowing of teh roosters. Also, the faucet for our side of the village is in front of our house. Which is super convenient for us, but you begin hearing buckets fill at 5:30 am when the sun comes up.
The kids are kids, what can i say? They are funny and love to hang out with us. Their English is very limited, but we tutor some of the older ones in the evenings. During the day we teach at school, which is more chaotic than my worst day in the classroom in the US. Could it be that chickens and dogs walk through our open-air classrooms every day and teh kids are a little wild because they know teh obruni (Twi for 'foreigner') won't cane them? Maybe.
Anyway, the saving grace for the adjustment period is the other volunteers. These people are all (except one) about 10 years younger than me but they don't seem to be. And they didn't beilieve my age either so I love them fo rthat! We definitely support each other - talkng things out, airing frustrations, sharing plasters ('band-aids'). Every meal is eaten around the table together, which builds the bonds for sure.
Internet access is a 40 minute trek to Cape Coast but \i will try to update when I can. Want to get this posted before anything (internet, power, computer time) is finished!
It's very difficult to put into words what life is like here. Extended camping trip with a roof, I suppose. There are goats, dogs, cats, chickens, and ducks everywhere. The goats make such a racket but generally quiet down at night. \i was wakened this morning by hymns played over teh village loudspeaker and the routine crowing of teh roosters. Also, the faucet for our side of the village is in front of our house. Which is super convenient for us, but you begin hearing buckets fill at 5:30 am when the sun comes up.
The kids are kids, what can i say? They are funny and love to hang out with us. Their English is very limited, but we tutor some of the older ones in the evenings. During the day we teach at school, which is more chaotic than my worst day in the classroom in the US. Could it be that chickens and dogs walk through our open-air classrooms every day and teh kids are a little wild because they know teh obruni (Twi for 'foreigner') won't cane them? Maybe.
Anyway, the saving grace for the adjustment period is the other volunteers. These people are all (except one) about 10 years younger than me but they don't seem to be. And they didn't beilieve my age either so I love them fo rthat! We definitely support each other - talkng things out, airing frustrations, sharing plasters ('band-aids'). Every meal is eaten around the table together, which builds the bonds for sure.
Internet access is a 40 minute trek to Cape Coast but \i will try to update when I can. Want to get this posted before anything (internet, power, computer time) is finished!
Saturday, June 30, 2012
I'm Here!
I'm in Accra at the IVHQ central volunteer house. There are lots of other volunteers here - most in college - I feel very mature. :)
On the long flight over I did end up with an empty seat next to me, which was great! I was met at the airport then driven through Accra. Lots of people selling things by the side of the road, women walking with all manner of objects piled on their heads, goats, dogs, lots of references to God, lots of good-natured car honking. So far, it's great!
Had dinner here - yams with stewed greens of some sort. Pretty good. The sun goes down about 6:30, and we have to be up at 6:30 am for orientation. Just had a cold shower and I'm headed to my bunk bed. Looks like people head out to individual projects tomorrow. Akwaaba! (Welcome!)
On the long flight over I did end up with an empty seat next to me, which was great! I was met at the airport then driven through Accra. Lots of people selling things by the side of the road, women walking with all manner of objects piled on their heads, goats, dogs, lots of references to God, lots of good-natured car honking. So far, it's great!
Had dinner here - yams with stewed greens of some sort. Pretty good. The sun goes down about 6:30, and we have to be up at 6:30 am for orientation. Just had a cold shower and I'm headed to my bunk bed. Looks like people head out to individual projects tomorrow. Akwaaba! (Welcome!)
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Ready...Set...
Well, I'm at the point now where if it's not packed, I must not need it. Today was crazy - my cell phone decided to go on the fritz and stop working. (Apparently the iPhone 4GS has a multi-task bar feature that you need to go in and CLOSE the apps that you use or else your phone might freak out and turn off and not turn back on and then get really hot.) To fix this required a trip to AT&T and then the Apple Store at the mall, all the while knowing that my best friend had a doctor's appointment to find out if she's have a boy or a girl (!) and I was cell-phone-less.
I may have shed some tears in front of the AT&T guy, but he took it okay. I apologized afterwards.
It's possible today was the perfect pre-departure day. It was so frenetic and frustrating that maybe I'm ready to focus on the simple things like "You want me to use the bathroom there?"
Not sure when or where my next post will be from, but I will post something as soon as I'm able.
I may have shed some tears in front of the AT&T guy, but he took it okay. I apologized afterwards.
It's possible today was the perfect pre-departure day. It was so frenetic and frustrating that maybe I'm ready to focus on the simple things like "You want me to use the bathroom there?"
Not sure when or where my next post will be from, but I will post something as soon as I'm able.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
A Little Twist
A few days ago I received my tentative placement details from the organization I'm working with in Ghana. There's a somewhat interesting twist - and I'll back up to explain.
When I first signed up for this, I had to select a type of work/project, like "agriculture", "teaching", or "medical". I was very torn between orphanage work and teaching. As many of you know, I was a teacher, I work in education, and have a master's degree in education policy. On paper, it would just make sense for me to teach. So that's what I signed up for.
BUT, this is supposed to be a different road. That's part of what led me here: discomfort with the results of the very practical choices I've made in the past 8-ish years. And so I kept feeling this pull to the nurturer in me, to do work that helps me see more of who I am, not work that falls in line with the degrees and experience I have. I was tempted to email IVHQ and ask them to give me a teaching placement near or at an orphanage, or working with orphaned kids, or something. But I never emailed - I guess I just went with the "let go" philosophy. Anything I would do in Ghana would be different than anything I've ever done. So I let it go.
Two days ago I got my placement details. The title of the attached PDF was "The Yellow Program - Orphanage". Well well well, isn't life funny?
I won't lay down all the nitty gritty just yet, in case things change after I get there, but as of now it looks like I'll be living/working at an orphanage. The kids go to an affiliated school nearby during the day, so I may be working at the school as well. We'll see, but it feels good to know something, even if it may change.
I'm not quite sure what all that proves - nothing I guess - but it's another tally in the "Life Is Funny That Way" column. Six days until departure!
When I first signed up for this, I had to select a type of work/project, like "agriculture", "teaching", or "medical". I was very torn between orphanage work and teaching. As many of you know, I was a teacher, I work in education, and have a master's degree in education policy. On paper, it would just make sense for me to teach. So that's what I signed up for.
BUT, this is supposed to be a different road. That's part of what led me here: discomfort with the results of the very practical choices I've made in the past 8-ish years. And so I kept feeling this pull to the nurturer in me, to do work that helps me see more of who I am, not work that falls in line with the degrees and experience I have. I was tempted to email IVHQ and ask them to give me a teaching placement near or at an orphanage, or working with orphaned kids, or something. But I never emailed - I guess I just went with the "let go" philosophy. Anything I would do in Ghana would be different than anything I've ever done. So I let it go.
Two days ago I got my placement details. The title of the attached PDF was "The Yellow Program - Orphanage". Well well well, isn't life funny?
I won't lay down all the nitty gritty just yet, in case things change after I get there, but as of now it looks like I'll be living/working at an orphanage. The kids go to an affiliated school nearby during the day, so I may be working at the school as well. We'll see, but it feels good to know something, even if it may change.
I'm not quite sure what all that proves - nothing I guess - but it's another tally in the "Life Is Funny That Way" column. Six days until departure!
Thursday, May 31, 2012
When Bureaucracy Works
My visa arrived today!!!! A hearty thanks to the Ghanaian consulate in DC for completing this mysterious transaction in a timely and officious manner. It's a bit unsettling to send one's passport off with a $100 cashier's check (granted, in a trackable envelope) with a second trackable envelope enclosed, hoping to the gods of bureaucracy that you are correctly following the detailed instructions and the whole thing gets there safely and returned to you. Well, by virtue of the trackable envelope, I knew it arrived safely, but I didn't hear anything else. I was just starting to fret yesterday and today, and then as I left the house this afternoon to head downtown, up rolls the FedEx truck. Hooray! I wouldn't say bureaucracy is a beautiful thing when it works, but it is gratifying, and you feel like maybe you pulled one over on the whole Murphy's Law-ness of these types of things.
Since I seem to be keeping a running to-do list here, this is where we are:
*decide on anti-malarial and call ARC for prescription
*pay program balance
*get travel/health insurance
*get TDap vaccination at doctor
*figure out my work absences
*hope my visa and passport are returned to me
That's what I call some progress!
Since I seem to be keeping a running to-do list here, this is where we are:
*get travel/health insurance
*get TDap vaccination at doctor
That's what I call some progress!
Monday, May 21, 2012
Preparing...
Thirty-eight days away from leaving - I realized this when I woke up this morning and took my 2nd of 4 typhoid pills. (You can get typhoid immunization in pill form and it lasts for 5 years instead of 2 years, which is how long the injection immunity lasts. And when you're given the option to do 4 shots instead of 5 in one sitting, and you only have 2 arms, you go ahead and take one in pill form.)
I dreamt last night that I arrived in Ghana having not finished the typhoid pill series, and that Hank had somehow come with me. I was worrying about him being safe, me getting typhoid, and how I was going to handle all of it. Thank you, anxiety dreams. Maybe that's my subconscious preparing me. The difficult piece seems to be doing productive things to emotionally prepare while still being bogged down in current work stuff. My day-to-day is still the same, even though big things are coming, and I feel like I don't have time to get ready because I'm having to deal with ongoing job stuff.
Besides emotion management and packing, I still need to:
-Pay the balance of my program fee.
-Find out if my current insurance covers international travel/health and if not, get some.
-Get a Tetanus shot.
-Decide on my anti-malarial and get the prescription called in.
-Figure out exactly how I'm taking my absences at work...hm.
-Keep my fingers crossed that my passport gets returned from the Ghanaian consulate in DC with my visa insert!
And, I keep telling people that I'm "thinking" about doing a blog, when I am actually doing it (the 2nd post makes it real I suppose) but nobody wants to read these sporadic ramblings yet. So if it's July and you're back-reading, oops!
I dreamt last night that I arrived in Ghana having not finished the typhoid pill series, and that Hank had somehow come with me. I was worrying about him being safe, me getting typhoid, and how I was going to handle all of it. Thank you, anxiety dreams. Maybe that's my subconscious preparing me. The difficult piece seems to be doing productive things to emotionally prepare while still being bogged down in current work stuff. My day-to-day is still the same, even though big things are coming, and I feel like I don't have time to get ready because I'm having to deal with ongoing job stuff.
Besides emotion management and packing, I still need to:
-Pay the balance of my program fee.
-Find out if my current insurance covers international travel/health and if not, get some.
-Get a Tetanus shot.
-Decide on my anti-malarial and get the prescription called in.
-Figure out exactly how I'm taking my absences at work...hm.
-Keep my fingers crossed that my passport gets returned from the Ghanaian consulate in DC with my visa insert!
And, I keep telling people that I'm "thinking" about doing a blog, when I am actually doing it (the 2nd post makes it real I suppose) but nobody wants to read these sporadic ramblings yet. So if it's July and you're back-reading, oops!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Before the Beginning
Here I am, 2 months out from leaving for Ghana, setting up my blog. I'm sure I will half-regret creating this, as it will be semi-public documentation of thoughts that I'm sure will sound dumb later. Kind of like listening to oneself on a recording, or re-reading old diary entries. The horror.
Nevertheless, in place of posting extensively on Facebook and sending mass emails with updates to friends, here we are. We'll see how much I am able to keep up with it, but I will make an effort. This entry is mainly the test. There is still much to do in the next two months: visa application, complete vaccinations, pay the balance of my program fee, buy heavy-duty DEET bug spray, find the anti-malarial pill that's right for me (!). Not getting malaria is priority #1.
Nevertheless, in place of posting extensively on Facebook and sending mass emails with updates to friends, here we are. We'll see how much I am able to keep up with it, but I will make an effort. This entry is mainly the test. There is still much to do in the next two months: visa application, complete vaccinations, pay the balance of my program fee, buy heavy-duty DEET bug spray, find the anti-malarial pill that's right for me (!). Not getting malaria is priority #1.
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