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)
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