please visit
thedevifoundation.weebly.com
and know I could never thank you enough for the support you have shown me.
Meloo.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
A Summer of Smiles
The adventure is over, at least for now.
My mind races at the thought of going back there. Seeing all of them again. I think of the girls everyday. They stick to my thoughts like glue, I carry ghana in the pocket of my heart.
My journey back home was hard, I was in pain, my legs have all kinds of things wrong with them, but it is getting better now. Thank you Jesus! (or just American medicine. :) )
My thoughts have been retreating back to the ideas for Devi. The planning that is needed. The steps to be taken to Make It Happen. Goal: get 8 teachers for a year. Be their sponsor for school. Is it within reach? You bet. I will be sure to let everyone know when and what they can buy in order to support these efforts. Millie deserves a chance to excel. God knows they all do. These kids would make your heart cry of happiness, they are all so beautiful.
As the summer ends and I embark on a new journey of officially moving out of my parents house for good, planning how to raise 3600 dollars for Devi, and establishing the end to one of the greatest summers I have ever known, one filled with adventure and love and life and just downright Beauty, it is hard not to find it all just a little bittersweet. I miss the kids, I miss Africa. But I am happy to be home. Furthermore, I can't wait to go back and visit again. This summer has taught me so many things. It has taught me that a dirt floor doesnt mean anything at all, in fact sometimes it is better. That parasites are gross but not the end of me. That there is a chance to love again. That africa is one of the most beautiful places I will ever go to. If you want to get to know someone, travel to Africa with them. (Vicky I am still having withdrawals from you. It is strange not to have a constant companion.) There is nothing more fantastic than an adventure, if you ever get the chance, Travel. And above all, I am one of the luckiest girls I know. I have more support than I ever knew, you all are so amazing, I am so blessed in every single sense of the word.
Coming home I keep getting the question: how was africa.
This is a hard question to answer only when questioned on details. Otherwise if I can say one word, Amazing. It was the experience of a lifetime and I do not mean to put that lightly. It has come to an end but my a piece of my heart will always be in Ghana, you should visit her one day if you ever get the chance. My homestead in Africa. My birthplace of adventure.
Meloo Woe, dear Ghana. I will see you again, and I will never, ever forget you.
"And in their eyes I would be strange and ragged and like the Prophet that has walked across the land to bring the dark Word, the only Word I had was Wow."
My mind races at the thought of going back there. Seeing all of them again. I think of the girls everyday. They stick to my thoughts like glue, I carry ghana in the pocket of my heart.
My journey back home was hard, I was in pain, my legs have all kinds of things wrong with them, but it is getting better now. Thank you Jesus! (or just American medicine. :) )
My thoughts have been retreating back to the ideas for Devi. The planning that is needed. The steps to be taken to Make It Happen. Goal: get 8 teachers for a year. Be their sponsor for school. Is it within reach? You bet. I will be sure to let everyone know when and what they can buy in order to support these efforts. Millie deserves a chance to excel. God knows they all do. These kids would make your heart cry of happiness, they are all so beautiful.
As the summer ends and I embark on a new journey of officially moving out of my parents house for good, planning how to raise 3600 dollars for Devi, and establishing the end to one of the greatest summers I have ever known, one filled with adventure and love and life and just downright Beauty, it is hard not to find it all just a little bittersweet. I miss the kids, I miss Africa. But I am happy to be home. Furthermore, I can't wait to go back and visit again. This summer has taught me so many things. It has taught me that a dirt floor doesnt mean anything at all, in fact sometimes it is better. That parasites are gross but not the end of me. That there is a chance to love again. That africa is one of the most beautiful places I will ever go to. If you want to get to know someone, travel to Africa with them. (Vicky I am still having withdrawals from you. It is strange not to have a constant companion.) There is nothing more fantastic than an adventure, if you ever get the chance, Travel. And above all, I am one of the luckiest girls I know. I have more support than I ever knew, you all are so amazing, I am so blessed in every single sense of the word.
Coming home I keep getting the question: how was africa.
This is a hard question to answer only when questioned on details. Otherwise if I can say one word, Amazing. It was the experience of a lifetime and I do not mean to put that lightly. It has come to an end but my a piece of my heart will always be in Ghana, you should visit her one day if you ever get the chance. My homestead in Africa. My birthplace of adventure.
Meloo Woe, dear Ghana. I will see you again, and I will never, ever forget you.
"And in their eyes I would be strange and ragged and like the Prophet that has walked across the land to bring the dark Word, the only Word I had was Wow."
Monday, July 6, 2009
I hope you get where you are going and be happy when you do.
In about 6 hours I will be sitting in the airport, wasting time until my journey of two long flights and a layover begin, all to end with seeing my beautiful family, the desert, and olive garden.
I am ready for home. I miss it. But this feeling of readiness has only come on in these last couple days. I have had several moments where I feel like I am slipping away from something. Becoming aware of how scary home will feel. I spent my home country's birthday at a pool called Freedom reading On the Road in Ghana with a boy who just wants to help and is too scarred to go for it and screw his business degree (Jeff, our two day long host brother, we helped him get acquainted and then we took off, good luck jeff.) and a girl I never thought I would be so close with. I love it here. I realized on the 4th how accustom I had become to it all. I also realized how strange America would taste. There were the most white people I had seen in 5 weeks at the pool that day and it gave me anxiety, it was strange to hear their loud English, their slang and American ways. However I know home will be amazing, even if it is shocking and scary at first. My last fufu for a long time was on the fourth and on sunday I said my goodbyes, threw the last things in my bag, kissed each of those beautiful kids head's and walked down that dirt path to the station one last time (for a while at least) and tried so hard to hang on. Like Kerouac said in his book, when saying goodbye they turned at 12 paces and looked back at one another, for love is a duel. I lost. I ran back to hug Aunties scared body one last time and scream MELOO WOE!!! waving tirelessly, wanting to have them down the street from me at home. So we got to the Tro station, it filled, we said goodbye to the ever loving Mr.Hii and sailed away with Fan Ice in hand. Goodbye for now, dear Volta Region.
Then Accra came. It scarred us like hell at first. I wanted my mothers arms, the igloo, or just to go back to Ho and eat rice at Big Mama's again. We found our self in Osu, a very western like area in Accra (most places in Accra are that way, it is the city, and it is developed, and not what I know to be Ghana) It is a strange mix of the western world and Ghana and to me felt like neither which was unnerving and down right strange. After being told we couldn't get a room together because we were the same sex we found a place with a cheese croissant. CHEESE croissant. and.... ICE CREAM. REAL LIFE ICE CREAM IN A CONE. I have never Ever been more satisfied with taste as I was with that. You cannot know true love of ice cream until you go 5 weeks with no milk products. Never again will I underestimate the beauty of ice cream, in a cone. Our stomachs did not take it well but damn was it worth it. The city was making our souls scream for something we could know, whether it be home or Ho. We sat on the curb in silence. Both of us in our own worlds, a couple comments now and then. We wrote a list of ailments we cant explain from Africa. We tried to laugh. But really we were just so damn homesick. But then a random Rasta man that was Muslim and an artist came up to try to sell his stuff to us. He ended up sitting and talking with us and I got a painting from him. I will use this painting as a remembrance to never hate any experience no matter how uncomfortable because it teaches you. And that is all that matters. Rasta painter man was a sign from God Herself saying "Hey. Shut the hell up. You are going home soon. Soak this up. Stop being down. Have the best day of your life." So we did. Smiles turned up we laughed and shook hands with other friends of his, all along claiming we were married and then found our self in an asian restaurant from heaven called Tip Top cafe. It was a spiritual experience. I had the best asian food I have ever had in my entire life. No exaggeration. One word sums up yesterday. Serendipity.
Home is so soon and I can feel that breathless heat of my home encase me when I come off that plane. I can see my mothers little body approaching me for a hug. My fathers smile and my brother calling me "dirt". I can feel my heart race at the thought of olive garden and the jump in my stomach I will have when I reach my pine covered new home and see my first ever apartment. I can't believe how blessed I am. I am so excited for whatever else life has in store, i cannot wait to go out and explore every inch of what it has to offer, anyone in with me?
I love you all. I will see you soon. :)
I am ready for home. I miss it. But this feeling of readiness has only come on in these last couple days. I have had several moments where I feel like I am slipping away from something. Becoming aware of how scary home will feel. I spent my home country's birthday at a pool called Freedom reading On the Road in Ghana with a boy who just wants to help and is too scarred to go for it and screw his business degree (Jeff, our two day long host brother, we helped him get acquainted and then we took off, good luck jeff.) and a girl I never thought I would be so close with. I love it here. I realized on the 4th how accustom I had become to it all. I also realized how strange America would taste. There were the most white people I had seen in 5 weeks at the pool that day and it gave me anxiety, it was strange to hear their loud English, their slang and American ways. However I know home will be amazing, even if it is shocking and scary at first. My last fufu for a long time was on the fourth and on sunday I said my goodbyes, threw the last things in my bag, kissed each of those beautiful kids head's and walked down that dirt path to the station one last time (for a while at least) and tried so hard to hang on. Like Kerouac said in his book, when saying goodbye they turned at 12 paces and looked back at one another, for love is a duel. I lost. I ran back to hug Aunties scared body one last time and scream MELOO WOE!!! waving tirelessly, wanting to have them down the street from me at home. So we got to the Tro station, it filled, we said goodbye to the ever loving Mr.Hii and sailed away with Fan Ice in hand. Goodbye for now, dear Volta Region.
Then Accra came. It scarred us like hell at first. I wanted my mothers arms, the igloo, or just to go back to Ho and eat rice at Big Mama's again. We found our self in Osu, a very western like area in Accra (most places in Accra are that way, it is the city, and it is developed, and not what I know to be Ghana) It is a strange mix of the western world and Ghana and to me felt like neither which was unnerving and down right strange. After being told we couldn't get a room together because we were the same sex we found a place with a cheese croissant. CHEESE croissant. and.... ICE CREAM. REAL LIFE ICE CREAM IN A CONE. I have never Ever been more satisfied with taste as I was with that. You cannot know true love of ice cream until you go 5 weeks with no milk products. Never again will I underestimate the beauty of ice cream, in a cone. Our stomachs did not take it well but damn was it worth it. The city was making our souls scream for something we could know, whether it be home or Ho. We sat on the curb in silence. Both of us in our own worlds, a couple comments now and then. We wrote a list of ailments we cant explain from Africa. We tried to laugh. But really we were just so damn homesick. But then a random Rasta man that was Muslim and an artist came up to try to sell his stuff to us. He ended up sitting and talking with us and I got a painting from him. I will use this painting as a remembrance to never hate any experience no matter how uncomfortable because it teaches you. And that is all that matters. Rasta painter man was a sign from God Herself saying "Hey. Shut the hell up. You are going home soon. Soak this up. Stop being down. Have the best day of your life." So we did. Smiles turned up we laughed and shook hands with other friends of his, all along claiming we were married and then found our self in an asian restaurant from heaven called Tip Top cafe. It was a spiritual experience. I had the best asian food I have ever had in my entire life. No exaggeration. One word sums up yesterday. Serendipity.
Home is so soon and I can feel that breathless heat of my home encase me when I come off that plane. I can see my mothers little body approaching me for a hug. My fathers smile and my brother calling me "dirt". I can feel my heart race at the thought of olive garden and the jump in my stomach I will have when I reach my pine covered new home and see my first ever apartment. I can't believe how blessed I am. I am so excited for whatever else life has in store, i cannot wait to go out and explore every inch of what it has to offer, anyone in with me?
I love you all. I will see you soon. :)
Friday, July 3, 2009
I have miss you very much.
Today has been a roller coaster, something I am expecting to not cease for some time. I feel like for a while I will go through these intense emotions, one minute I want to leave and be back in my families presence, the next I feel like im sinking, that it's all ending too soon. I know I am ready to see everyone, ready to say hello again. But I had no idea how attached I could get to people in a month. I've learned to love these kids in a way I didnt think I could in such a short time.
Today was the last day at work at Drifting Angels. I did not think it would be so hard. On one of their breaks I wrote. -
My heart is in my throat. Pulsing there I try hard not to leak. The lump of sadness rests there, expands and contracts. Builds pressure in my lungs and behind my eyes.
Why does there always have to be a goodbye.
Milli, don't cry, I will be back. I say hopefully.
Why do they have to live so far?
A thousand hot knives in my heart stick firmly there as I watch her cry. I swallow. It almost breaches the surface and somehow I push the lump back down. I want to bawl and weep. It is like I am saying goodbye to the most infamous lover I have ever had. These kids have touched me in such a deep, passionate way.
I don't want to say goodbye.
I have never felt like this before, my stomach is in knots. I am slipping. Cant reach land. I want to burst into tears and hug them for eternity.
I dont want to leave.
I want this last couple of hours to last a lifetime and drip into every second of the rest of my life. I want to stay.
I dont know how to act. I am trying so hard to be calm, still, happy, relaxed.
Not crying.
The pit of my stomach churns its hot thick somber gooey mess and my limbs are heavy.
A part of me will be left here forever.
But then. It passed. At least for now. Vicky and I did our normal rutein of corn and pastries, we walked up the hill and sweated way too much. We sat on the corner with our fan ice. Not much has been said today between us. We both feel the weight of goodbyes so heavy on our hearts it is hard to be completly normal. But on the other hand we are bright in the prospect of home. Monday I will be on a plane and Tuesday I finally see my family, I am so excited. Today I found out my Dad will also be at the airport because my Yiayia is doing better. Praise Jesus! As Big Mama would say.
The experience here has gone from adventure to downright home, I will miss this place like hell. I will miss Big Mama and her undying kindness. Peace and the way she shows me her art, drawing me with peace signs all over and rainbow eyes. I will miss the boys, their silly games of yelling in the morning. I will even miss waking up to the loudest church service you have ever heard next to my head. I will never forget getting adorned with hand made beads to show appreciation from the Church's Pastor I went to in order to show his thanks for coming. Watching Auntie make egg stew and have her laugh at us. The shower randomly turning off and the constant feeling of a bloated belly. The conversations, realizations, and the friendship I have built with Vicky, the people I have met here and their smiles I will carry in my pocket forever. I will never forget any of it. I will keep in contact. I cherish every last moment here and know when I come back I will be so greatful for not only the love I learned here but what I realized about home through this journey. I love America. So deeply. I love my family more than words and have no idea what I would do without them. I miss you John. I miss you Mom and Dad. I can't wait to see you tuesday. I cant wait to potentially break into tears over the long awaited trip to olive garden and salad. I cant wait for flagstaff and all the beautiful people there. I am so beyond blessed to have every single one of you in my life. I am so blessed to have this experience and if I can give any advice it would be to travel if you can. The best learning experiences lie in travel, things books and stories can not give you. Experience life, go out and conquer it and never forget how wonderful your home is. I know I won't.
I.Love.You.All.From.The.Bottom.Of.My.Heart.
Today was the last day at work at Drifting Angels. I did not think it would be so hard. On one of their breaks I wrote. -
My heart is in my throat. Pulsing there I try hard not to leak. The lump of sadness rests there, expands and contracts. Builds pressure in my lungs and behind my eyes.
Why does there always have to be a goodbye.
Milli, don't cry, I will be back. I say hopefully.
Why do they have to live so far?
A thousand hot knives in my heart stick firmly there as I watch her cry. I swallow. It almost breaches the surface and somehow I push the lump back down. I want to bawl and weep. It is like I am saying goodbye to the most infamous lover I have ever had. These kids have touched me in such a deep, passionate way.
I don't want to say goodbye.
I have never felt like this before, my stomach is in knots. I am slipping. Cant reach land. I want to burst into tears and hug them for eternity.
I dont want to leave.
I want this last couple of hours to last a lifetime and drip into every second of the rest of my life. I want to stay.
I dont know how to act. I am trying so hard to be calm, still, happy, relaxed.
Not crying.
The pit of my stomach churns its hot thick somber gooey mess and my limbs are heavy.
A part of me will be left here forever.
But then. It passed. At least for now. Vicky and I did our normal rutein of corn and pastries, we walked up the hill and sweated way too much. We sat on the corner with our fan ice. Not much has been said today between us. We both feel the weight of goodbyes so heavy on our hearts it is hard to be completly normal. But on the other hand we are bright in the prospect of home. Monday I will be on a plane and Tuesday I finally see my family, I am so excited. Today I found out my Dad will also be at the airport because my Yiayia is doing better. Praise Jesus! As Big Mama would say.
The experience here has gone from adventure to downright home, I will miss this place like hell. I will miss Big Mama and her undying kindness. Peace and the way she shows me her art, drawing me with peace signs all over and rainbow eyes. I will miss the boys, their silly games of yelling in the morning. I will even miss waking up to the loudest church service you have ever heard next to my head. I will never forget getting adorned with hand made beads to show appreciation from the Church's Pastor I went to in order to show his thanks for coming. Watching Auntie make egg stew and have her laugh at us. The shower randomly turning off and the constant feeling of a bloated belly. The conversations, realizations, and the friendship I have built with Vicky, the people I have met here and their smiles I will carry in my pocket forever. I will never forget any of it. I will keep in contact. I cherish every last moment here and know when I come back I will be so greatful for not only the love I learned here but what I realized about home through this journey. I love America. So deeply. I love my family more than words and have no idea what I would do without them. I miss you John. I miss you Mom and Dad. I can't wait to see you tuesday. I cant wait to potentially break into tears over the long awaited trip to olive garden and salad. I cant wait for flagstaff and all the beautiful people there. I am so beyond blessed to have every single one of you in my life. I am so blessed to have this experience and if I can give any advice it would be to travel if you can. The best learning experiences lie in travel, things books and stories can not give you. Experience life, go out and conquer it and never forget how wonderful your home is. I know I won't.
I.Love.You.All.From.The.Bottom.Of.My.Heart.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The sun waved hello to the earth, and it was love at first sight.
My heart is happy again. Peace and hope swell around it like a big bursting hive of beautiful bees, humming around with ideas and love.
Devi will happen. Today was extremely encouraging and things were talked over. When I get home expect a full on obsession to get there to be experience certified teachers in Drifting Angels next school year. It is 60 Cedis a month for one teacher. They need around 8 teachers. We can, and will. do this. (Britt I can hear you now bursting with ideas of how to raise this money, can't wait to be a partner in crime/fund raising with you again.) And to all of you who have done Nothing but support me, give ideas and just downright love me, I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH. If it's one thing I have learned here it is how to love, and how much I appreciate every single one of you who have helped me on this journey and who I know will be there to laugh and cry and drink chai with me for many times to come. I love you all more than you know. You are all so beautiful.
Last day at the orphanage tomorrow. This makes my heart tremor a little bit. I cannot believe tomorrow is my last day with them, at least for a long time. I will long for them upon my arrival home. I am nervous for how much I will miss them, how strange America will feel when I land and see so many white pointy faces. Saturday I will be eating Fufu while you all celebrate July 4th. This makes me happy, but nervous. Home will be an interesting adjustment but I am so happy and excited to see all of you, eat salad, talk and love with you all.
Tomorrow will be hard, but I am forever greatful for this chance.
Signing off for now, with love and hope in my soul I can't wait to suck all the marrow out of life and rejoice in how amazing this experience is for me.
I love you all.
Devi will happen. Today was extremely encouraging and things were talked over. When I get home expect a full on obsession to get there to be experience certified teachers in Drifting Angels next school year. It is 60 Cedis a month for one teacher. They need around 8 teachers. We can, and will. do this. (Britt I can hear you now bursting with ideas of how to raise this money, can't wait to be a partner in crime/fund raising with you again.) And to all of you who have done Nothing but support me, give ideas and just downright love me, I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH. If it's one thing I have learned here it is how to love, and how much I appreciate every single one of you who have helped me on this journey and who I know will be there to laugh and cry and drink chai with me for many times to come. I love you all more than you know. You are all so beautiful.
Last day at the orphanage tomorrow. This makes my heart tremor a little bit. I cannot believe tomorrow is my last day with them, at least for a long time. I will long for them upon my arrival home. I am nervous for how much I will miss them, how strange America will feel when I land and see so many white pointy faces. Saturday I will be eating Fufu while you all celebrate July 4th. This makes me happy, but nervous. Home will be an interesting adjustment but I am so happy and excited to see all of you, eat salad, talk and love with you all.
Tomorrow will be hard, but I am forever greatful for this chance.
Signing off for now, with love and hope in my soul I can't wait to suck all the marrow out of life and rejoice in how amazing this experience is for me.
I love you all.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
God Save Us The Children.
Internet is back up in one cafe and the price is high. It's worth it, I want you all to know things are moving. I still have hope and the support system I am realizing I have back home makes me love you all more than words can describe.
The orphanage at moments seems hopeful, other times I want to yell and scream. But I am trying ruthlessly. Failure isn't an option and I for some reason still have hope. We have been yelled at and felt discouraged, our stomachs are ready for good food, food that I can actually digest, but in all reality all I want is to see real change.
Due to men in the town of Tsito (where the orphanage is) stealing children in order to sell their blood to sell to witches in the town for money I now understand why Mama is scarred to send them to public school. (note. I am NOT in danger of this happening to me. This is the first time I have heard of something like this and Ghana is not known for violence or things like this. Please do not blow this out of proportion and make it personal, remember it is the kids who are in danger, and the kids who should be faught for, do not fret over my safety, I am safe.)
I would also like to say I am so greatful to be an American. I am beyond rediculously blessed. It's not fair. One day I hope it will be.
So beyond how horrific it is that there is a "witch" and she buys blood, and people buy into this, it means that there is an alternative that now has light on it. Vicky and I can still do Devi. The money would just be directed toward paying Legitamate, educated teachers into the school from outside to teach the children in the home. I am beyond desperate to make this work. It has gotten to a point where I feel these are my children, and no one will do injustice toward my Millie or Gifty, no one will touch Deborah or hurt Gideon. It's just not an option. And Erin, you are right. Mama I know cares within her, and I will continue to work and pray for this all to come to a conclusion and a point in which I feel like me coming here wassn't to just break my heart and feel powerless but rather to realize I was blessed with the life I have for a reason, and I can use these blessings to help those who were not as lucky as I was.
So I have hope. My head sometimes feels like it may explode, sometimes I want to rip at things here and have the power to control them. I want to see a hospital that makes sense. I want to see doctors who work on weekends. But they will get there. Ghana is amazingly progressive and it is Only 50 years old. I have faith in its progress and I know they are trying and willing to better their situations. I am going to miss this place like hell.
The African sun beats widley across the theighs of the innocent but even harder does her rain. Like a cleansing mess of glory she sheds all over the jungle and begs for recognition. I will never forget the beauty I have witnessed. I will one day come back to stay with big Mama and know to expect a big plate of Fufu, a stomach that bloats beyond belief, and to once again be called Yevu. Until then the memories will stick with me. I could not have asked for an experience more pure. More amazing. I have learned so much about myself here, and so much about people, the world, and culture. I appreciate things now I have always overlooked. This journey will stay with me always, I can't wait to have more. The world cries out to me, See me she says, her naked body ready for exploration she lays out and asks for adventure. The greatest suductress I have decided to heed her calling, but for a while America looks bright for me. It is and always will be my home. I can't believe how overwhellmingly much I took her diverse land for granted, her mix of culture, and like chip said, I can't wait to be a part of the salad America is again, everything is different but it all works so well together. I hope one day the world can be one, and Africa will not just be for resume building and outreaches. She has more than you know to offer. She is such a beautiful spirit. I hope one day, if you get the chance, you can meet her.
I LOVE AND MISS YOU ALL.
The orphanage at moments seems hopeful, other times I want to yell and scream. But I am trying ruthlessly. Failure isn't an option and I for some reason still have hope. We have been yelled at and felt discouraged, our stomachs are ready for good food, food that I can actually digest, but in all reality all I want is to see real change.
Due to men in the town of Tsito (where the orphanage is) stealing children in order to sell their blood to sell to witches in the town for money I now understand why Mama is scarred to send them to public school. (note. I am NOT in danger of this happening to me. This is the first time I have heard of something like this and Ghana is not known for violence or things like this. Please do not blow this out of proportion and make it personal, remember it is the kids who are in danger, and the kids who should be faught for, do not fret over my safety, I am safe.)
I would also like to say I am so greatful to be an American. I am beyond rediculously blessed. It's not fair. One day I hope it will be.
So beyond how horrific it is that there is a "witch" and she buys blood, and people buy into this, it means that there is an alternative that now has light on it. Vicky and I can still do Devi. The money would just be directed toward paying Legitamate, educated teachers into the school from outside to teach the children in the home. I am beyond desperate to make this work. It has gotten to a point where I feel these are my children, and no one will do injustice toward my Millie or Gifty, no one will touch Deborah or hurt Gideon. It's just not an option. And Erin, you are right. Mama I know cares within her, and I will continue to work and pray for this all to come to a conclusion and a point in which I feel like me coming here wassn't to just break my heart and feel powerless but rather to realize I was blessed with the life I have for a reason, and I can use these blessings to help those who were not as lucky as I was.
So I have hope. My head sometimes feels like it may explode, sometimes I want to rip at things here and have the power to control them. I want to see a hospital that makes sense. I want to see doctors who work on weekends. But they will get there. Ghana is amazingly progressive and it is Only 50 years old. I have faith in its progress and I know they are trying and willing to better their situations. I am going to miss this place like hell.
The African sun beats widley across the theighs of the innocent but even harder does her rain. Like a cleansing mess of glory she sheds all over the jungle and begs for recognition. I will never forget the beauty I have witnessed. I will one day come back to stay with big Mama and know to expect a big plate of Fufu, a stomach that bloats beyond belief, and to once again be called Yevu. Until then the memories will stick with me. I could not have asked for an experience more pure. More amazing. I have learned so much about myself here, and so much about people, the world, and culture. I appreciate things now I have always overlooked. This journey will stay with me always, I can't wait to have more. The world cries out to me, See me she says, her naked body ready for exploration she lays out and asks for adventure. The greatest suductress I have decided to heed her calling, but for a while America looks bright for me. It is and always will be my home. I can't believe how overwhellmingly much I took her diverse land for granted, her mix of culture, and like chip said, I can't wait to be a part of the salad America is again, everything is different but it all works so well together. I hope one day the world can be one, and Africa will not just be for resume building and outreaches. She has more than you know to offer. She is such a beautiful spirit. I hope one day, if you get the chance, you can meet her.
I LOVE AND MISS YOU ALL.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Heartbreak Hotel.
I'm not sure where to begin.
Parts of me want to cry. Others want to lash out in rage. A small trickle of apathy.
Today we were supposed to talk to Mama. The supervisor of the orphanage I work for.
Over the past few days it has become quite clear how illigitemate the schooling situation is where I work. The 'teachers' are not qualified, there is a lack of supplies and no structure. These kids are not getting what they deserve. I mean for got sakes I am teaching these kids science, i have no experience, no idea about how to go about it. I contemplated for a long time whether or not to write about this. But I can't pretend it's not happening. Plus I am more frustrated than I have ever been. However. I know I am not powerless.
The headmaster of the school (who is a man who has not been to university and has never been a teacher, just has the biggest heart in the world and wants to help these kids.) has aggreed with us, the school is not efficient. These kids deserve the same opportunity as the other children in the community and they deserve to go to public school where they might actually have a stab at learning how to read. I told him we were willing to raise funds to pay for basic schooling fees in the public school system. (30 for girls, 38 Cedi's a year. - right now 1 Cedi is about 1.50 dollars last I checked.) He loved the idea. I had it all planned out. Ali Smart you would be proud, I thought often of the grow chart and organized what needed to be done. I had heard from another volunteer from a different organization that Mama was a stubborn and hard lady to get through to. I found out that she does not want to send the kids to school elsewhere because it will hurt her reputation at the home. It would be admitting she needs time to grow. To raise enough funds to have a legitamate school. My anger is like a fire when I think of this again. Anyway. I decided to give it a try myself. See if my father's lessons in speaking and my ability to seem extremely organized and ready even if I'm not could convince this woman to screw her reputation for a while so these kids have a chance in life. I know 14 year olds who cannot read. It is hard not to throw something at Mama. But I have kept my patience. Mom - somehow I have learned from you to smile when I really just want to throw punches, which is an extremely good quality to have right now.
So today we were to meet with her. The headmaster was to go with us for support and try to convince her. I had my lists, my flow charts, I was ready. I wanted to convince her to scale the school down to a day care, send the others to public and slowly build her idea for a school at the home from scratch and ground up. Seems reasonable.
As I was standing in a shower area discussing how to paint it with some volunteers a knock came. The headmaster told me Mama said she will not agree to discuss such things with me, but that I should raise money and send it to her. My heart turned to flames. My heart got angry. I told him to tell her this is rediculous. I am not giving her money if she wont even have a conversation with me. I told him I cant agree to anything unless she talks with me and I will not send money knowing it will not get spent properly but rather to make the orphanage look good, instead of making it work well.
I am in the most unethical, rediculous, immoral situation i have Ever been in.
So i left. I went to the public school nearby. Notebook in hand, my father would be proud. I wanted to see what I was fighting for. I was beyond suprized. The school had everything a child needs. Walls. Roofs. Toilets. Teachers in each room. A lesson plan. Books. Pencils. Structure. Real life education. For next to free, a safe 15 minute walk away. I plan on doing everything in my power to make sure the kids, the ones I have literally fallen for, get a chance to be successfull. I Love them. They will get what they deserve. I have suddenly realized I will make a good mother, but for now, all my motherly instincts are flooding into this. It is not fair. These kids are being used as guinea pigs and reputation builders amoung an overly zealous religous community and it makes me sick to my stomach.
Tonight I will talk with projects abroad, the group I came to Ghana with and arranged my placement. I will ask them to use their clout to help back me. I will ask them to try to do everything. If this does not work Vicky and I have decided to go to the ministry of education here in Ghana and as individuals seperate from Projects Abroad, report the school. A friend said she heard on the news that some orphanages were getting reviewed, out of 42 only 5 were up to standard schooling wise. So i know they will not ignore my reports. At least I can hope. I pray it does not come to this. I pray something this rediculous gets solved, it should not even be an issue. I cannot see injustice at this level and not act. Every fiber in my body is crying out. I refuse to submit to the idea of being helpless. I am not powerless. I cannot accept the situation and go home withot doing everthing in my power to change it. I would never forgive myself. Wish us luck.
I love you all.
Parts of me want to cry. Others want to lash out in rage. A small trickle of apathy.
Today we were supposed to talk to Mama. The supervisor of the orphanage I work for.
Over the past few days it has become quite clear how illigitemate the schooling situation is where I work. The 'teachers' are not qualified, there is a lack of supplies and no structure. These kids are not getting what they deserve. I mean for got sakes I am teaching these kids science, i have no experience, no idea about how to go about it. I contemplated for a long time whether or not to write about this. But I can't pretend it's not happening. Plus I am more frustrated than I have ever been. However. I know I am not powerless.
The headmaster of the school (who is a man who has not been to university and has never been a teacher, just has the biggest heart in the world and wants to help these kids.) has aggreed with us, the school is not efficient. These kids deserve the same opportunity as the other children in the community and they deserve to go to public school where they might actually have a stab at learning how to read. I told him we were willing to raise funds to pay for basic schooling fees in the public school system. (30 for girls, 38 Cedi's a year. - right now 1 Cedi is about 1.50 dollars last I checked.) He loved the idea. I had it all planned out. Ali Smart you would be proud, I thought often of the grow chart and organized what needed to be done. I had heard from another volunteer from a different organization that Mama was a stubborn and hard lady to get through to. I found out that she does not want to send the kids to school elsewhere because it will hurt her reputation at the home. It would be admitting she needs time to grow. To raise enough funds to have a legitamate school. My anger is like a fire when I think of this again. Anyway. I decided to give it a try myself. See if my father's lessons in speaking and my ability to seem extremely organized and ready even if I'm not could convince this woman to screw her reputation for a while so these kids have a chance in life. I know 14 year olds who cannot read. It is hard not to throw something at Mama. But I have kept my patience. Mom - somehow I have learned from you to smile when I really just want to throw punches, which is an extremely good quality to have right now.
So today we were to meet with her. The headmaster was to go with us for support and try to convince her. I had my lists, my flow charts, I was ready. I wanted to convince her to scale the school down to a day care, send the others to public and slowly build her idea for a school at the home from scratch and ground up. Seems reasonable.
As I was standing in a shower area discussing how to paint it with some volunteers a knock came. The headmaster told me Mama said she will not agree to discuss such things with me, but that I should raise money and send it to her. My heart turned to flames. My heart got angry. I told him to tell her this is rediculous. I am not giving her money if she wont even have a conversation with me. I told him I cant agree to anything unless she talks with me and I will not send money knowing it will not get spent properly but rather to make the orphanage look good, instead of making it work well.
I am in the most unethical, rediculous, immoral situation i have Ever been in.
So i left. I went to the public school nearby. Notebook in hand, my father would be proud. I wanted to see what I was fighting for. I was beyond suprized. The school had everything a child needs. Walls. Roofs. Toilets. Teachers in each room. A lesson plan. Books. Pencils. Structure. Real life education. For next to free, a safe 15 minute walk away. I plan on doing everything in my power to make sure the kids, the ones I have literally fallen for, get a chance to be successfull. I Love them. They will get what they deserve. I have suddenly realized I will make a good mother, but for now, all my motherly instincts are flooding into this. It is not fair. These kids are being used as guinea pigs and reputation builders amoung an overly zealous religous community and it makes me sick to my stomach.
Tonight I will talk with projects abroad, the group I came to Ghana with and arranged my placement. I will ask them to use their clout to help back me. I will ask them to try to do everything. If this does not work Vicky and I have decided to go to the ministry of education here in Ghana and as individuals seperate from Projects Abroad, report the school. A friend said she heard on the news that some orphanages were getting reviewed, out of 42 only 5 were up to standard schooling wise. So i know they will not ignore my reports. At least I can hope. I pray it does not come to this. I pray something this rediculous gets solved, it should not even be an issue. I cannot see injustice at this level and not act. Every fiber in my body is crying out. I refuse to submit to the idea of being helpless. I am not powerless. I cannot accept the situation and go home withot doing everthing in my power to change it. I would never forgive myself. Wish us luck.
I love you all.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Listen. This is how it begins.
I must first and foremost begin with the newest thing that has managed to crawl into my mind and spread spider-webs of hope all over my imagination and thought process.
It's name is Devi.
Devi means child in the local tribal language in the Volta Region of Ghana. This is the area I live in. Working with the children at the orphanage has been a life changing experience just like everyone has said it would be. But I needed more. I found my outlet. I found my inspiration.
The children in the orphanage are going through motions, they memorize and regurgitate. The cane is used and fear is something they respond to in a learning situation. There seems to be not much room for creativity, encouragement to think outside the box. There are also days in which food is hard to come by, or is not at all. Medical supplies are low and I crave to have all the money in the world to buy proper bedding for them, maybe a roof for their classroom so the grass leaf one doesn't leak in the tropical rain. Do not get the wrong idea. This orphanage is New. These people are trying. But having so many kids and no sponsor results in struggle. An understandable struggle.
So then it hit me. Art. May your absent God bless you chip because the supplies you gave me as a gift have served as the beginning to an organization that has already began. I have decided to integrate the arts, along with art therapy, into the system of their schooling at the home. I am to write up my lesson ideas so that it may be carried on after I leave. I have eight days of work left. I know I can do it. I know I can plant that seed. Vicky and I hand in hand, we are determined to give these kids an outlet.
So Friday I passed out pencils, paper and crayons. We taught them how to draw a face and let them loose. A few of them, at least. They were beautiful in their explosion of creativity. I will take these drawings of themselves and sell their copies as prints in the states to raise money for basic needs of the orphanage so that they may begin to focus more not on getting rice for the day, but giving the children a chance to flourish intellectually. I have not felt this awake about an idea since Invisible Children tote bags. My mind buzzes. I am blessed with friends and family who do nothing but support these desires I have. They reach out to me wanting to help further my idea. You have no idea what this means to me. The organization is going to be called Devi, in their honor. We will start a blog and start on a grassroots level. I am so excited. So ready. Chip little did you know your children drawing pads would lead to feeding those same kids that opened up on those sheets. My heart is shining with smiles.
Other than that so much else has happened in these past days. But that is what catches me most. I have fed a monkey from my hand, fit 25 people in one tro, experienced extreme racism, got a hair cut from vicky, treated the kids at the orphanage for simple things and ringworm, and got told I should get to know my host brother better, who ironically wants to marry an American girl, talk about awkward. Thats too is a story for over coffee. I can't help but laugh. I cant help but know I will miss things so deeply. Saying hello to strangers, a slow lifestyle, an inability to have constant contact. Never knowing what will shock me that day. Missing my mother's voice and my fathers stories. My dogs and chilling with John. Longing for people but also knowing when I get home I will need time alone.
Today I woke to the sound of African drumming and worship at 7:30. I can't help but love that, regardless of how badly I wanted a chance to sleep past 6 for once. I went to the pool yesterday, and got turned into a cherry red person, burned even behind my knees, but its something so laughable I can't care. I read The Meat and Spirit Plan in a day and a half and it blew my mind. I cannot thank you enough Goble, that book spoke to me.
My trip here is one that keeps me thinking. So internally and externally. I do not have light conversations here often. They always turn so intense. It is something I needed so badly. I can't wait to see what else my mind has stored inside it, to be awaken by the afternoons in Africa.
I cannot get over the work I am doing. The orphans are beautiful. They burst with life from the rooftop of my smiling heart and I see God in them. Their skin crawls with scales, remenants of a life before home and a softness that lingers. A purity so shiny it grabs you. You cannot refuse their yellow orange finger-tips. They reach up at your smile and crave more. I will miss them so, so deeply. I wrote about one of the girls I teach english to. There is something about her. I can't fully place it. Her name is Gifty.
- Narrow eyes like diamonds shift through me. They pierce my essence, grab my attention, scream at me. Her wise smirk comes closely behind her stern and somber cheeks. She has begun to cling to me as the earth's moisture does to my cheeks in the African sun. Her fingers singe me. I can feel their need to feed on love. Her pulse bears the same blood as mine and in her I see a struggle I once knew.
My mind buzzes. I miss you all but love my experience here. Please be patient with me when I return, I have a feeling it will be hard to readjust to the American lifestyle after this. I hope every day all of you are well.
I love you all more than words.
It's name is Devi.
Devi means child in the local tribal language in the Volta Region of Ghana. This is the area I live in. Working with the children at the orphanage has been a life changing experience just like everyone has said it would be. But I needed more. I found my outlet. I found my inspiration.
The children in the orphanage are going through motions, they memorize and regurgitate. The cane is used and fear is something they respond to in a learning situation. There seems to be not much room for creativity, encouragement to think outside the box. There are also days in which food is hard to come by, or is not at all. Medical supplies are low and I crave to have all the money in the world to buy proper bedding for them, maybe a roof for their classroom so the grass leaf one doesn't leak in the tropical rain. Do not get the wrong idea. This orphanage is New. These people are trying. But having so many kids and no sponsor results in struggle. An understandable struggle.
So then it hit me. Art. May your absent God bless you chip because the supplies you gave me as a gift have served as the beginning to an organization that has already began. I have decided to integrate the arts, along with art therapy, into the system of their schooling at the home. I am to write up my lesson ideas so that it may be carried on after I leave. I have eight days of work left. I know I can do it. I know I can plant that seed. Vicky and I hand in hand, we are determined to give these kids an outlet.
So Friday I passed out pencils, paper and crayons. We taught them how to draw a face and let them loose. A few of them, at least. They were beautiful in their explosion of creativity. I will take these drawings of themselves and sell their copies as prints in the states to raise money for basic needs of the orphanage so that they may begin to focus more not on getting rice for the day, but giving the children a chance to flourish intellectually. I have not felt this awake about an idea since Invisible Children tote bags. My mind buzzes. I am blessed with friends and family who do nothing but support these desires I have. They reach out to me wanting to help further my idea. You have no idea what this means to me. The organization is going to be called Devi, in their honor. We will start a blog and start on a grassroots level. I am so excited. So ready. Chip little did you know your children drawing pads would lead to feeding those same kids that opened up on those sheets. My heart is shining with smiles.
Other than that so much else has happened in these past days. But that is what catches me most. I have fed a monkey from my hand, fit 25 people in one tro, experienced extreme racism, got a hair cut from vicky, treated the kids at the orphanage for simple things and ringworm, and got told I should get to know my host brother better, who ironically wants to marry an American girl, talk about awkward. Thats too is a story for over coffee. I can't help but laugh. I cant help but know I will miss things so deeply. Saying hello to strangers, a slow lifestyle, an inability to have constant contact. Never knowing what will shock me that day. Missing my mother's voice and my fathers stories. My dogs and chilling with John. Longing for people but also knowing when I get home I will need time alone.
Today I woke to the sound of African drumming and worship at 7:30. I can't help but love that, regardless of how badly I wanted a chance to sleep past 6 for once. I went to the pool yesterday, and got turned into a cherry red person, burned even behind my knees, but its something so laughable I can't care. I read The Meat and Spirit Plan in a day and a half and it blew my mind. I cannot thank you enough Goble, that book spoke to me.
My trip here is one that keeps me thinking. So internally and externally. I do not have light conversations here often. They always turn so intense. It is something I needed so badly. I can't wait to see what else my mind has stored inside it, to be awaken by the afternoons in Africa.
I cannot get over the work I am doing. The orphans are beautiful. They burst with life from the rooftop of my smiling heart and I see God in them. Their skin crawls with scales, remenants of a life before home and a softness that lingers. A purity so shiny it grabs you. You cannot refuse their yellow orange finger-tips. They reach up at your smile and crave more. I will miss them so, so deeply. I wrote about one of the girls I teach english to. There is something about her. I can't fully place it. Her name is Gifty.
- Narrow eyes like diamonds shift through me. They pierce my essence, grab my attention, scream at me. Her wise smirk comes closely behind her stern and somber cheeks. She has begun to cling to me as the earth's moisture does to my cheeks in the African sun. Her fingers singe me. I can feel their need to feed on love. Her pulse bears the same blood as mine and in her I see a struggle I once knew.
My mind buzzes. I miss you all but love my experience here. Please be patient with me when I return, I have a feeling it will be hard to readjust to the American lifestyle after this. I hope every day all of you are well.
I love you all more than words.
Where ships used to crate people like cattle, I admire the shore line. -An account of Cape Coast
The irony of Cape Coast, Ghana is it's history.
This is where a massive slave trading "industry" took place. People were sold here due to the color of their skin. Women were kept in chambers, used for sex, had one bucket to 50 people to defecate in. Punishing chambers still hold carvings from men struggling in chains where tourists now pay to walk over, get a glimpse of the other side, they say.
Cape Coast did not seem like the Ghana I know here in the Volta Region. It feels like a vacation town. Because that's what it is. Once a center of absolute moral rape now hosts some of the nicest, and most relaxing things you will find in Ghana.
To get there was a trip. First you get in a tro (a tro is like a van, rickety and packed full of people) for hours and argue with the driver to not cheat you because you are white. Then you arrive in Accra, the capitol city in Ghana, this is the place people have told me I can buy things like ice cream, and chinese food, even milk if I am lucky. I have yet to walk the streets in a slow pace and stop to look while in this city. It makes me nervous. I have gotten so firmiliar to how slow my village can move. America will surley shock me when I come back to it's bright lights and different cars and expensive drip coffee. (i have not had drip coffee since I got here.) *side note on food - i didnt know you could get a cigarette-like craving for it. Id kill a man for a chai, cut off a toe for a salad. (=. but really though.* Anyway. We somehow get to Cape Coast, after about an 8 hour journey, sweating and buying things from vendors with food on their heads to sustain us, listening to a man sell a cure-all vitamin on the bus for 2 hours (apparently if you take this vitamin it can cure anything from diabedes to menstral cramps. best part is some people bought it.) We got in town and ate on a roof restaurant and I drank wine from Argentina to honor my mother and my brother simultaniously. We then went to a club and danced to Ghanaian hip hop.. fun. :) "siiing for me.. Africa lady!" "bump-a-dee-bump-bump!" A group of men from the Ghana including one whos name was Fantastic, and another King David, got us home safely, (dont worry motherly readers, these men were friends of ours.) And I thought to myself, my life is amazing.
The next day I awoke with bowel movements from hell itself and laughed the whole day about it. Then took a frighteningly cold shower screaming and laughing and.. best part, finally saw my whole body in a mirror. There was a mirror in the hotel room. Your naked body is something so bizarre to not see for 2 weeks then suddenly realize what you look like from on onlookers view, instead of just a birds eye one. We then wandered the beach and had amazing westernized food at a restaurant near by. This made me crave california. Then the tour of Cape Coast Castle. This made my heart cry. It took me a while to recover mentally, internally, I had thought often of slavery while in the states, and always knew it was horrid and disgusting, but to see where people had dug in their fingernails in fight made my insides boil.
Afterward Vicky finally found a place that sold smothies. Smothies to Vicky is like salad to me, so you can't imagine how happy she was. We met a group of Rasta men and danced to Bob Dylan and African pop, met volunteers from projects abroad in the area and had a blast.
The trip ended with several details I will save for my journal and talks over coffee but one thing I can say is Ghana will never fail to suprize me. It constanly teaches me, always reminds me what I have learned, what I am thankfull for, and what I have yet to know.
Meloo.
This is where a massive slave trading "industry" took place. People were sold here due to the color of their skin. Women were kept in chambers, used for sex, had one bucket to 50 people to defecate in. Punishing chambers still hold carvings from men struggling in chains where tourists now pay to walk over, get a glimpse of the other side, they say.
Cape Coast did not seem like the Ghana I know here in the Volta Region. It feels like a vacation town. Because that's what it is. Once a center of absolute moral rape now hosts some of the nicest, and most relaxing things you will find in Ghana.
To get there was a trip. First you get in a tro (a tro is like a van, rickety and packed full of people) for hours and argue with the driver to not cheat you because you are white. Then you arrive in Accra, the capitol city in Ghana, this is the place people have told me I can buy things like ice cream, and chinese food, even milk if I am lucky. I have yet to walk the streets in a slow pace and stop to look while in this city. It makes me nervous. I have gotten so firmiliar to how slow my village can move. America will surley shock me when I come back to it's bright lights and different cars and expensive drip coffee. (i have not had drip coffee since I got here.) *side note on food - i didnt know you could get a cigarette-like craving for it. Id kill a man for a chai, cut off a toe for a salad. (=. but really though.* Anyway. We somehow get to Cape Coast, after about an 8 hour journey, sweating and buying things from vendors with food on their heads to sustain us, listening to a man sell a cure-all vitamin on the bus for 2 hours (apparently if you take this vitamin it can cure anything from diabedes to menstral cramps. best part is some people bought it.) We got in town and ate on a roof restaurant and I drank wine from Argentina to honor my mother and my brother simultaniously. We then went to a club and danced to Ghanaian hip hop.. fun. :) "siiing for me.. Africa lady!" "bump-a-dee-bump-bump!" A group of men from the Ghana including one whos name was Fantastic, and another King David, got us home safely, (dont worry motherly readers, these men were friends of ours.) And I thought to myself, my life is amazing.
The next day I awoke with bowel movements from hell itself and laughed the whole day about it. Then took a frighteningly cold shower screaming and laughing and.. best part, finally saw my whole body in a mirror. There was a mirror in the hotel room. Your naked body is something so bizarre to not see for 2 weeks then suddenly realize what you look like from on onlookers view, instead of just a birds eye one. We then wandered the beach and had amazing westernized food at a restaurant near by. This made me crave california. Then the tour of Cape Coast Castle. This made my heart cry. It took me a while to recover mentally, internally, I had thought often of slavery while in the states, and always knew it was horrid and disgusting, but to see where people had dug in their fingernails in fight made my insides boil.
Afterward Vicky finally found a place that sold smothies. Smothies to Vicky is like salad to me, so you can't imagine how happy she was. We met a group of Rasta men and danced to Bob Dylan and African pop, met volunteers from projects abroad in the area and had a blast.
The trip ended with several details I will save for my journal and talks over coffee but one thing I can say is Ghana will never fail to suprize me. It constanly teaches me, always reminds me what I have learned, what I am thankfull for, and what I have yet to know.
Meloo.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Dirty fingernails and a story to tell.
My heart hurt a little today.
When I feel that I tend to miss home. But things are getting more comfortable. I know what to expect now. I am no longer shocked at taxi's that don't look like they should run, or constant eyes on us just from walking around. I know how to get from place to place. The price for a sweat rag, or handkerchief. I know where to get citrus fonta and expect to feel like i gained ten pounds every time i eat. I dont mind my dirty body or hair that curls with the humidity. I expect to gain weight and dont mind what people think of me in a natural state. I know to say hello everywhere and I know my way around the orphanage. I know on fridays in the streets I will hear drums and music and ambulence, because this is when they have their funerals. I like it here. Ghana is beautiful in so many ways.
Today the orphanage work was hard. Most of the kids did not finish registering yesterday so vicky and I were left with 10 todlers. And the orphanage. To ourselves. For the most part we grueled. It was lots of screaming, kids who couldnt speak english, and more screaming. Walking birth control anyone? Yet, in all realness, I want to take them home with me. I will genuinly miss them. I think about them when i am not with them. A few of my favorites appear in my dreams. There is one boy that lives inside my mind. Today he was crying, has many things wrong with him, has been untreated, and i long to just rescue him. Every bit of estrogen and mom instinct i was built with cried out of me. I all the sudden felt so angry that western hospitals were no where near. how Unfair it is that he doesnt have the chance at life i had. It's not fair he is four years old and suffering. Suffering something probably curable but wont be. I have so much to say. Its hard to blog it. At least for now. Mostly i have an undying love for them. A constant craving to help the situation. A need to see it build itself better. A knowledge that there is hope for it, this i cling to so deeply. When I get home please do not get tired of my stories from this place. I know I am seeing it all for a reason. I know people need to know about Ghana, how wonderful it is, how much the orphans could use help. And so on.
I am learning so much about life here. But even more about myself. Having vicky to talk to is a blessing from whatever exsists or doesnt. I talk to her about my thoughts on God, love, life, family, Africa, the future, and even poop. :)
Meloo.
I love you all.
When I feel that I tend to miss home. But things are getting more comfortable. I know what to expect now. I am no longer shocked at taxi's that don't look like they should run, or constant eyes on us just from walking around. I know how to get from place to place. The price for a sweat rag, or handkerchief. I know where to get citrus fonta and expect to feel like i gained ten pounds every time i eat. I dont mind my dirty body or hair that curls with the humidity. I expect to gain weight and dont mind what people think of me in a natural state. I know to say hello everywhere and I know my way around the orphanage. I know on fridays in the streets I will hear drums and music and ambulence, because this is when they have their funerals. I like it here. Ghana is beautiful in so many ways.
Today the orphanage work was hard. Most of the kids did not finish registering yesterday so vicky and I were left with 10 todlers. And the orphanage. To ourselves. For the most part we grueled. It was lots of screaming, kids who couldnt speak english, and more screaming. Walking birth control anyone? Yet, in all realness, I want to take them home with me. I will genuinly miss them. I think about them when i am not with them. A few of my favorites appear in my dreams. There is one boy that lives inside my mind. Today he was crying, has many things wrong with him, has been untreated, and i long to just rescue him. Every bit of estrogen and mom instinct i was built with cried out of me. I all the sudden felt so angry that western hospitals were no where near. how Unfair it is that he doesnt have the chance at life i had. It's not fair he is four years old and suffering. Suffering something probably curable but wont be. I have so much to say. Its hard to blog it. At least for now. Mostly i have an undying love for them. A constant craving to help the situation. A need to see it build itself better. A knowledge that there is hope for it, this i cling to so deeply. When I get home please do not get tired of my stories from this place. I know I am seeing it all for a reason. I know people need to know about Ghana, how wonderful it is, how much the orphans could use help. And so on.
I am learning so much about life here. But even more about myself. Having vicky to talk to is a blessing from whatever exsists or doesnt. I talk to her about my thoughts on God, love, life, family, Africa, the future, and even poop. :)
Meloo.
I love you all.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Fan Ice and Pepsi are a girls best friend. Internet connections are not.
So it goes, Vicky would say.
I just wrote an entire blog entry and the internet failed before I published it so instead of trying to recreate it i will do a short update :).
First. Thank you to all of you for your comments, emails and what not you have been encouraging me with. You do not know how much this means to me to hear such wonderful things from the ones I love.
Today at the orphanage was amazing, I feel this too will be a constant while here. We took pictures and played with the kids. We also took them to get registered for health insurance, which is quite nice. Also, we are having a medical Projects Abroad volunteer come tuesday to help diagnose some of the kids and get treatment for them, seeing as how this is a new orphanage such things have not been provided. Most of the kids, if not all, have ringworm, so I look forward to getting it myself. Haha, it's no big deal, and I would gladly play with the kids and accept my ringwormed fate than not play any day.
Big mama made us fried plantains and fried chicken today for lunch. She packs it in a basket with hello kitty plates and spoons with the words I love you engraved in them. I simply adore her.
When I come back to the states I look forward to helping the Drifting Angels orphanage from home, gathering donations and seeing where they need it most. Working first hand with an establishment as it gets built up is incredibly rewarding. I love every minute of it. The children are so bright (in fact, that's one of their names. Ghanaian people often have names such as this, or Perfect, Gifted, Peace and so on, it's beautiful.) they are bursting with a want to show me how they can read, what they can draw, holding my hand and climbing on vicky and I as if we were trees. I love to see them flourish, their different personalities sprouting in every direction. It is so rewarding each day to see them smile and wave as we come over the hill and down to them.
Afterward Vicky and I went to the market and got the closest thing to yogurt/ice cream called fan ice and we found Pepsi. Damn. How pleasing. :) Anyhow I am going to wrap it up seeing as how my hands are tired from writing this and more before. But know that all is well, I think of each of you, even the distant ones I have not talked to in way too long, so much. I think of home and how many comforts we are spoiled with. I think of how beautiful all of you are, and miss you often. But I can't help being wrapped up in Ghana life, loving every minute, no matter how uncomfortable it may be at times. I look forward to bringing pieces of it back home with me. :)
I love you all.
I just wrote an entire blog entry and the internet failed before I published it so instead of trying to recreate it i will do a short update :).
First. Thank you to all of you for your comments, emails and what not you have been encouraging me with. You do not know how much this means to me to hear such wonderful things from the ones I love.
Today at the orphanage was amazing, I feel this too will be a constant while here. We took pictures and played with the kids. We also took them to get registered for health insurance, which is quite nice. Also, we are having a medical Projects Abroad volunteer come tuesday to help diagnose some of the kids and get treatment for them, seeing as how this is a new orphanage such things have not been provided. Most of the kids, if not all, have ringworm, so I look forward to getting it myself. Haha, it's no big deal, and I would gladly play with the kids and accept my ringwormed fate than not play any day.
Big mama made us fried plantains and fried chicken today for lunch. She packs it in a basket with hello kitty plates and spoons with the words I love you engraved in them. I simply adore her.
When I come back to the states I look forward to helping the Drifting Angels orphanage from home, gathering donations and seeing where they need it most. Working first hand with an establishment as it gets built up is incredibly rewarding. I love every minute of it. The children are so bright (in fact, that's one of their names. Ghanaian people often have names such as this, or Perfect, Gifted, Peace and so on, it's beautiful.) they are bursting with a want to show me how they can read, what they can draw, holding my hand and climbing on vicky and I as if we were trees. I love to see them flourish, their different personalities sprouting in every direction. It is so rewarding each day to see them smile and wave as we come over the hill and down to them.
Afterward Vicky and I went to the market and got the closest thing to yogurt/ice cream called fan ice and we found Pepsi. Damn. How pleasing. :) Anyhow I am going to wrap it up seeing as how my hands are tired from writing this and more before. But know that all is well, I think of each of you, even the distant ones I have not talked to in way too long, so much. I think of home and how many comforts we are spoiled with. I think of how beautiful all of you are, and miss you often. But I can't help being wrapped up in Ghana life, loving every minute, no matter how uncomfortable it may be at times. I look forward to bringing pieces of it back home with me. :)
I love you all.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Akpeh. (Thank you.)
It feels like months since I have written. So many emotions, realizations, and events have transpired in a few short days. I feel this pattern will not change. Ghana for me is an experience I would not take back for anything in the entire world. I have realized many things that I plan to change upon my arrival back to the states, and ideas are spilling out of me like rain, I have so many new thoughts on how I want to go about helping in an NGO sense, in not only Africa but anywhere. I cannot wait to learn more.
Sunday I went to church with my host mother. I did not have any idea what to expect. I was mostly going out of the constant want I have to see her big lipped smile spread wide over her face. Chip once told me about something that made his heart smile, (i loved this expression) I feel these are moments where my heart smiles the widest. Ghana has brought out some of the most deep, intense smiles i have ever had internally. It turned out to be an experience of a lifetime. A time i considered getting on my knees and rejoicing. If not for religious reasons at least for the sheer amazement at how astoundingly amazing life can be. When we walked into the church, which was a tent more or less made out of tree branches and dried leaves, my heart was sinking. I felt that this would again be a time i was looked at as nothing but a Yevu. I did not want to seem like I was trying to hard to fit into 'Africa life'. I was destined, as always, to be shocked at how wrong my general perception of things are. We were welcomed with open arms, and when i say open arms I mean big beautiful black woman arms, stranger arms followed by kisses with thick lips, Welcome! You are Welcome! My heart, shatters in smiles just Thinking about these moments. We were pulled into the dancing. Provided with a translator. Prayers were made in our honor, thanking God for visitors, the chance to show black or white we are all his children. I felt at home by how welcomed I was. Perhaps that's why Ghana feels so much more like a home than the states do at times. Greetings are incredibly important here. Strangers say hello. Good afternoon. You are welcome. They expect you to do the same, it is not proper to not acknoledge one another, stranger or not. I love this aspect, I hope to carry it back with me to America.
I am constanly amazed at how much we take for granted, but i am also proud at how advanced our young country is in the states. Here they mow lawns with machetes and I sleep under a moscito net in hopes to avoid malaria, but these things I feel are tradeable in some aspects. I feel entirely safe here. I dont, but could, walk the streets alone. Apart from my skin gaining constant attention the people here are extremely polite. The violence here is absent from what I have experienced. I never feel in danger(apart from crazy taxi drivers that is haha), I never feel like I must watch behind me, as I do often in the states. There is a common understanding of mutual respect here we lack in America. It is not what God would want for us to war with one another, so why do it to your neighbor. This is a very Ghanaian view. For this I am so greatful, I recommend a visit to Ghana to anyone who would like to see how much hope really is in africa.
However, I do have my moments. Yesterday was a hard day for Vicky and I. The culture shock set in a bit. We were craving not being looked at like aliens, resenting my white skin I was getting impatient with constant songs from children about "white man with black hair", the bugs, the sweat that clings as if it is a second skin, the food that makes my stomach feel like I just ate a pound of oil, being asked to marry a person based on a want of a green card, getting laughed at from time to time. I miss my mothers salads and the comforts of home from time to time, but I always just have to stop and think. I am in Africa. Life is Great. I am blessed. I would not trade comfort for this experience at all. The lack of comfort makes this experience that much more fantastic. I have learned more in this week alone about myself and the world than I have in a long, long time.
I see what Ghana needs most is the ability to sustain itself without forein aid. The hospital system here also is in need of very much help. Some of the mentalities of how the western world is are very skewed here. But lets be real, our image of Africa is a misconception just like theirs is of how we live. It is all relative.
I took my host mother out for dinner with Vicky a few nights ago. It was the first time she left the house in one year and 8 months. Pause. Think about that. She is the most joyfull, thankfull, AMAZING BEAUTIFUL woman. You would never know her trials. But she is not suffering. I have come to know suffering is a lack of happiness and spirit. This woman is not lacking in these areas what so ever. This woman is Full of life and wonder. She was so greatful. I cannot wait to take her to dinner again. She has taught us how to eat Kasava, fry yams and "take" (eat) Fofo, her favorite, and very common, Ghanaian dish. I adore it.
My face is finally left unstung by vickys impregnated moscito net. I happen to be allergic to it. Last night we had a friend spend the night who is a girl that has been here for almost 10 months on foreign exchange. Vicky and I shared a bed and used a new net. We woke up after what I will dub our "off-cry-over-wanting-salad-missing-my-mama-culture-shock-day", which included seeing men stop to pee without an even an 'exuse me' on the side of the road (normal here, laughable now.) and getting sick as Hell of being treated like a zoo animal from time to time because of being white. However here they think if they go to America we will tell them they are a monkey and not let them use certain buildings. (please note that not all ghanaians act like eachother, just as we do not all act the same, please to not ever generalize to this extent, it is not fair to them just as it is not fair to us, i am simply writing about cultural differences that seem prevalent here.) Anyhow, we wake up with our faces feeling like they were melting from some odd allergic reaction to the repelant in her net, take a cold (but glorious in the sense that all night we sweat in our beds dressed in practically nothing) shower, and just laugh. We laugh untill our stomachs hurt. We laugh about how strange some moments have been. How rediculous some cultural differences are. How uncomfortable it is to not poop for 4 days straight. We laugh. And laughing changes everything. Now when called Yevu we will yell "daveh!" back (child!) I no longer will cry in the name of missing my mothers glorious salad but laugh at how much fat I just consumed. Screw it, ill probably sweat out all the weight i could gain from it anyway. (Jess- thanks for letting me rant to you on the phone last night, it made all the difference.)
Apart from the trial and laughter and getting to know the place I finally have begun work at the orphanage. What I came for is transpiring, and thank God! :) I love it already. I helped teach english and made friends with some of the children today. Vicky and I washed their dishes by hand and will be responsible for doing the same with laundry and bucket bathing children if we get there early enough. We cleaned their rooms and thought of things the orphanage needs. It is very different however similar to the experience in the orphanage in Mexico. In mexico they had everything in order, the orphanage was established and had a set, and used system, with a steady stream of volunteers and sponsership. The orphanage I work for here is called Drifting Angels. It was started by the kindest-eyed woman I have seen who says God came to her and told her to start this orphanage to get these children off the streets. It started with 2 in her house and has grown to an orphanage that houses and schools, and teaches bible studies to around 30 children, all of whom I know will grow into usefull, amazing human beings, who I hope to watch turn into adults and see them off into the world. They have little at this orphanage, they have to farm everyday for food and have a lack in supply, little money and no sponsers. It is new. I am so excited to be a part of helping it build itself up. Vicky and I already have asked to contribute by buying cubbies, rice for breakfast, and painting the childrens rooms. I am more excited for this than a girl in scottsdale is for prom.
I miss home, especially my family and friends. I also miss smoothies and salad. But I know I will crave me some kasava and fofo. I will miss the smiles, the constant "you are welcome"'s. Even being called a Yevu. So for now, I choose to soak it all in. Not let a single minute go to waste. I know it will all be over way too soon. I love you all.
Sunday I went to church with my host mother. I did not have any idea what to expect. I was mostly going out of the constant want I have to see her big lipped smile spread wide over her face. Chip once told me about something that made his heart smile, (i loved this expression) I feel these are moments where my heart smiles the widest. Ghana has brought out some of the most deep, intense smiles i have ever had internally. It turned out to be an experience of a lifetime. A time i considered getting on my knees and rejoicing. If not for religious reasons at least for the sheer amazement at how astoundingly amazing life can be. When we walked into the church, which was a tent more or less made out of tree branches and dried leaves, my heart was sinking. I felt that this would again be a time i was looked at as nothing but a Yevu. I did not want to seem like I was trying to hard to fit into 'Africa life'. I was destined, as always, to be shocked at how wrong my general perception of things are. We were welcomed with open arms, and when i say open arms I mean big beautiful black woman arms, stranger arms followed by kisses with thick lips, Welcome! You are Welcome! My heart, shatters in smiles just Thinking about these moments. We were pulled into the dancing. Provided with a translator. Prayers were made in our honor, thanking God for visitors, the chance to show black or white we are all his children. I felt at home by how welcomed I was. Perhaps that's why Ghana feels so much more like a home than the states do at times. Greetings are incredibly important here. Strangers say hello. Good afternoon. You are welcome. They expect you to do the same, it is not proper to not acknoledge one another, stranger or not. I love this aspect, I hope to carry it back with me to America.
I am constanly amazed at how much we take for granted, but i am also proud at how advanced our young country is in the states. Here they mow lawns with machetes and I sleep under a moscito net in hopes to avoid malaria, but these things I feel are tradeable in some aspects. I feel entirely safe here. I dont, but could, walk the streets alone. Apart from my skin gaining constant attention the people here are extremely polite. The violence here is absent from what I have experienced. I never feel in danger(apart from crazy taxi drivers that is haha), I never feel like I must watch behind me, as I do often in the states. There is a common understanding of mutual respect here we lack in America. It is not what God would want for us to war with one another, so why do it to your neighbor. This is a very Ghanaian view. For this I am so greatful, I recommend a visit to Ghana to anyone who would like to see how much hope really is in africa.
However, I do have my moments. Yesterday was a hard day for Vicky and I. The culture shock set in a bit. We were craving not being looked at like aliens, resenting my white skin I was getting impatient with constant songs from children about "white man with black hair", the bugs, the sweat that clings as if it is a second skin, the food that makes my stomach feel like I just ate a pound of oil, being asked to marry a person based on a want of a green card, getting laughed at from time to time. I miss my mothers salads and the comforts of home from time to time, but I always just have to stop and think. I am in Africa. Life is Great. I am blessed. I would not trade comfort for this experience at all. The lack of comfort makes this experience that much more fantastic. I have learned more in this week alone about myself and the world than I have in a long, long time.
I see what Ghana needs most is the ability to sustain itself without forein aid. The hospital system here also is in need of very much help. Some of the mentalities of how the western world is are very skewed here. But lets be real, our image of Africa is a misconception just like theirs is of how we live. It is all relative.
I took my host mother out for dinner with Vicky a few nights ago. It was the first time she left the house in one year and 8 months. Pause. Think about that. She is the most joyfull, thankfull, AMAZING BEAUTIFUL woman. You would never know her trials. But she is not suffering. I have come to know suffering is a lack of happiness and spirit. This woman is not lacking in these areas what so ever. This woman is Full of life and wonder. She was so greatful. I cannot wait to take her to dinner again. She has taught us how to eat Kasava, fry yams and "take" (eat) Fofo, her favorite, and very common, Ghanaian dish. I adore it.
My face is finally left unstung by vickys impregnated moscito net. I happen to be allergic to it. Last night we had a friend spend the night who is a girl that has been here for almost 10 months on foreign exchange. Vicky and I shared a bed and used a new net. We woke up after what I will dub our "off-cry-over-wanting-salad-missing-my-mama-culture-shock-day", which included seeing men stop to pee without an even an 'exuse me' on the side of the road (normal here, laughable now.) and getting sick as Hell of being treated like a zoo animal from time to time because of being white. However here they think if they go to America we will tell them they are a monkey and not let them use certain buildings. (please note that not all ghanaians act like eachother, just as we do not all act the same, please to not ever generalize to this extent, it is not fair to them just as it is not fair to us, i am simply writing about cultural differences that seem prevalent here.) Anyhow, we wake up with our faces feeling like they were melting from some odd allergic reaction to the repelant in her net, take a cold (but glorious in the sense that all night we sweat in our beds dressed in practically nothing) shower, and just laugh. We laugh untill our stomachs hurt. We laugh about how strange some moments have been. How rediculous some cultural differences are. How uncomfortable it is to not poop for 4 days straight. We laugh. And laughing changes everything. Now when called Yevu we will yell "daveh!" back (child!) I no longer will cry in the name of missing my mothers glorious salad but laugh at how much fat I just consumed. Screw it, ill probably sweat out all the weight i could gain from it anyway. (Jess- thanks for letting me rant to you on the phone last night, it made all the difference.)
Apart from the trial and laughter and getting to know the place I finally have begun work at the orphanage. What I came for is transpiring, and thank God! :) I love it already. I helped teach english and made friends with some of the children today. Vicky and I washed their dishes by hand and will be responsible for doing the same with laundry and bucket bathing children if we get there early enough. We cleaned their rooms and thought of things the orphanage needs. It is very different however similar to the experience in the orphanage in Mexico. In mexico they had everything in order, the orphanage was established and had a set, and used system, with a steady stream of volunteers and sponsership. The orphanage I work for here is called Drifting Angels. It was started by the kindest-eyed woman I have seen who says God came to her and told her to start this orphanage to get these children off the streets. It started with 2 in her house and has grown to an orphanage that houses and schools, and teaches bible studies to around 30 children, all of whom I know will grow into usefull, amazing human beings, who I hope to watch turn into adults and see them off into the world. They have little at this orphanage, they have to farm everyday for food and have a lack in supply, little money and no sponsers. It is new. I am so excited to be a part of helping it build itself up. Vicky and I already have asked to contribute by buying cubbies, rice for breakfast, and painting the childrens rooms. I am more excited for this than a girl in scottsdale is for prom.
I miss home, especially my family and friends. I also miss smoothies and salad. But I know I will crave me some kasava and fofo. I will miss the smiles, the constant "you are welcome"'s. Even being called a Yevu. So for now, I choose to soak it all in. Not let a single minute go to waste. I know it will all be over way too soon. I love you all.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
"Welcome to Africa life!"
This morning I woke up late to a breakfast I could not stomach so it ended up in a tissue paper wrapper and found its way to the trash. However this changed quickly when my host mother was found outside wanting to talk to us. We spoke about so many things and she had us help her make fried yams. Doesn't look like I'll be loosing any weight here (yiayia, i know you like to hear that :)) She told us all about her past. She is truly an amazing woman. We call her big mama. This doesn't just describe her stature but her smile. She is responsible for over 350 orphan children having places to stay. Yet, she says it as if its no huge thing. It is what the lord wants. She has had so many trials. But she is the most happy, joyful and down to earth woman. She talks about Jesus like a friend. Says one must just let some things go to God. And means it. She holds no grudges against those who wronged her. I am learning so much. I feel different here in a way that is completely enlightening. My senses seem more keen. My heart at peace. The earth seems more alive here. The music less grinding. The smiles more genuine. I love Ghana.
I have seen huts made of dried tree and houses with tiled floor. Yet the people were the same. Always kind. On our introduction Mr. Hii spoke of Jesus and God in a way I will never forget. He spoke of how visitors are Gods. Jesus was the ultimate visitor he said, the almighty God. He spoke of pure things i have heard from every zealot but for the first time, i bought that he actually genuinly loved and believed it all, for no alterior motives. I saw its reprecussions, I saw it in reality. The people are kind out of goodness, and a desire to be like Jesus. They are so pure in their faith here. I go to church tomorrow and hope to wear the traditional clothes. Regardless of how i feel about it all, for the first time in so long I feel awakened and happy at the sight of intense regligious beliefs. It gives them hope, and the way they are about it is beautiful.
It is hard for me to write everything I am feeling. My emotions and thoughts run at the speed of light. I am learning, thinking, experiencing so much.I feel cleansed. More awake. It is hard to filter it all.
There are so many things happening. So much to write. This morning alone was an adventure. I met my host mothers biological son who fancies americans and somehow found myself with vicky, him and her in a taxi with our PJ's on which are not Ghana appropriate (shorts with deffinetly warrent looks as if you are from outer space) and then we took a shower, or rather harsh drip, shower. This was a little less fun than the shower we took in the dark, vicky standing across from me holding the flashlight on my bare toosh. That girl will be at my wedding. :). Talk about being comfortable in hillariously uncomfortable situations. I have been asked to marry often, which also turns into a joke. I say I am married, oh, and my phone only works internationally so getting my number for Ghana use would not be worth it. Hah, you learn to lie fast in these situations. They mean nothing wrong by it. They see the skin and hear the accent and many are eager to see America. I have never felt like these men meant any harm or were advancing on me. It is always a fit of giggles and an huge "WE SHOULD MARRY! YES?!" My mother's high school ring has served as my wedding ring. It's all in good fun.
I dont even know where to begin! I am so spacey right now, trying to talk via facebook with friends, think of what the most important things from my journal are. I will get caught up. For now though, I think I will end by saying I am having the time of my life, sleeping under vicky's moscito net, or really just having fits of laughter and naming it "kofi" because it (the net) was born (set up) on a friday (the day you were born is part of your name, it holds much traditional signifigance). Having fun being treated like aliens and embracing the awkward, at times feeling like an artifact and other time feeling like I am home. I can't say enough how much I feel people should visit. Africa is an amazing, wonderful place. Ghana is the perfect spot to learn this, her people pride themselves on being free, friendly and the perfect introduction to Africa. They should. Akwaaba.
I am off to buy my Smirnoff Ice and sit with friends at The White House soon. I can't get over how happy I am all the time. It is always an adventure, even having to pee can become a huge expidition, and I am loving every single minute of it. I can't wait to have time to write it all down here for all of you to read, but for now my journal soaks up my poetry and thoughts, my camera what it can, and my mind is fluttering with ideas and gawking at all the things I am learning and trying to take in at once.
I love you all.
I have seen huts made of dried tree and houses with tiled floor. Yet the people were the same. Always kind. On our introduction Mr. Hii spoke of Jesus and God in a way I will never forget. He spoke of how visitors are Gods. Jesus was the ultimate visitor he said, the almighty God. He spoke of pure things i have heard from every zealot but for the first time, i bought that he actually genuinly loved and believed it all, for no alterior motives. I saw its reprecussions, I saw it in reality. The people are kind out of goodness, and a desire to be like Jesus. They are so pure in their faith here. I go to church tomorrow and hope to wear the traditional clothes. Regardless of how i feel about it all, for the first time in so long I feel awakened and happy at the sight of intense regligious beliefs. It gives them hope, and the way they are about it is beautiful.
It is hard for me to write everything I am feeling. My emotions and thoughts run at the speed of light. I am learning, thinking, experiencing so much.I feel cleansed. More awake. It is hard to filter it all.
There are so many things happening. So much to write. This morning alone was an adventure. I met my host mothers biological son who fancies americans and somehow found myself with vicky, him and her in a taxi with our PJ's on which are not Ghana appropriate (shorts with deffinetly warrent looks as if you are from outer space) and then we took a shower, or rather harsh drip, shower. This was a little less fun than the shower we took in the dark, vicky standing across from me holding the flashlight on my bare toosh. That girl will be at my wedding. :). Talk about being comfortable in hillariously uncomfortable situations. I have been asked to marry often, which also turns into a joke. I say I am married, oh, and my phone only works internationally so getting my number for Ghana use would not be worth it. Hah, you learn to lie fast in these situations. They mean nothing wrong by it. They see the skin and hear the accent and many are eager to see America. I have never felt like these men meant any harm or were advancing on me. It is always a fit of giggles and an huge "WE SHOULD MARRY! YES?!" My mother's high school ring has served as my wedding ring. It's all in good fun.
I dont even know where to begin! I am so spacey right now, trying to talk via facebook with friends, think of what the most important things from my journal are. I will get caught up. For now though, I think I will end by saying I am having the time of my life, sleeping under vicky's moscito net, or really just having fits of laughter and naming it "kofi" because it (the net) was born (set up) on a friday (the day you were born is part of your name, it holds much traditional signifigance). Having fun being treated like aliens and embracing the awkward, at times feeling like an artifact and other time feeling like I am home. I can't say enough how much I feel people should visit. Africa is an amazing, wonderful place. Ghana is the perfect spot to learn this, her people pride themselves on being free, friendly and the perfect introduction to Africa. They should. Akwaaba.
I am off to buy my Smirnoff Ice and sit with friends at The White House soon. I can't get over how happy I am all the time. It is always an adventure, even having to pee can become a huge expidition, and I am loving every single minute of it. I can't wait to have time to write it all down here for all of you to read, but for now my journal soaks up my poetry and thoughts, my camera what it can, and my mind is fluttering with ideas and gawking at all the things I am learning and trying to take in at once.
I love you all.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Mma ajo! (Good evening) from Ghana!
I made it.
The trip here was a long one. Our flight had to turn around and we got delayed a long while but we made it. Boy, was it worth the wait.
The moment I got off the plane my heart started to pound. Africa. I really made it. The air was a thick warm musk of comfort. The horizon sighed "you made it" It was four a.m Ghana time and I was finally here.
When I arrived the military uniforms made my insides lace with a quick fear but I literally cried out of happiness when it hit me. When we met Nyammi he was the nicest man I thought I had ever met. That would change, because everyone here seems like the nicest person in the world. Because they truly are amazing here.
The humidity sticks to you like glue.
Dear Arizona, If you think you know heat - go to Ghana.
The people here are gorgeous. They walk with such confidence. So striking with their many colors, almond eyes and wide smiles. They are beautiful.
On our way out of Accra (the capitol) to get to my host family's house we had a three hour ride in a tro-tro, a type of van. Stuffed with people and ragae beats my heart was so at peace. My eyes tired but failing to fully sleep, there was so much to take in. I have never seen what "tropical" was untill now. I wrote as I watched,
The green belly swells up and ripples outward.
God never forgot Africa, it was She who He remembered first.
I've never seen such organic life. The green is tastable. It screams at you, it caresses you. Seducing you into her Africa is the holder of truths burried deep into mother nature's history.
How dare she be called the dark continent. The colors here are glorious. They drip off of everything in sheer brillance. The land sings art. Inspires the senses. Awakens the iris that has been stuck in sameness for so long.
Today I awoke at dawn to roosters and my host mother (who is the most beautiful woman, so inviting, so amazing, I feel at home.) I feel awake despite the hours of sleep. I feel energized by her tea and white bread and jam breakfasts. I can't wait to start my days. There are no mirrors here. I adore it. Make up is obsolete. Even if i wanted it I would sweat it all off. The only way I can judge how I look is from the neck down. A birds eye view. It is entirely liberating.
I miss home for it's people it cradles. I miss my mother and family. I miss friends. But these feeling of homesickness have not attached themselves to me. I am far too excited to be here to miss comforts of home. Im sure this will change. I am also sure I will long so deeply for Ghana after I come back to the states. The people are irresitable, warm, inviting.
I have met the other volunteers and love them already. We go out for beers and minerals (soda) each night about and talk. Today I was shown around the town. The market was skattered with life. Children run up and ask to touch your skin. I've never stood out so much, and it is humbling. Mr. Hii was our tour guide today, catering to us in so many ways. I cannot wait to see him again. Projects Abroad has thought of our every need. I feel safe, I know so many details I otherwise wouldn't and they are constantly concerned with our happiness, making sure we feel at home.
I go to the orphanage come monday. I am more than excited. I cannot wait to be called "Yevu" (white person) and laugh with the beautiful children there. I will write all about it when I get the chance.
As for other details.
I can recieve mail, the postal address to use if you wish to do so is
Rebecca Christ
c/o Projects Abroad
P.O. Box 1341
Ho
Volta Region
Ghana
Also, I got a cell phone for use while here. Text messaging me should not cost you much if you would like a phone call let me know, it is very cheap for me to do so.
00233 0542528724
I hope to update again soon. This internet cafe is fast, cheap and of course, as always, friendly. The manager here, "Fortune", is kind and I'm sure us volunteers will give him a bunch of buisness. :) I love all of you, be sure not so worry, I am more than safe, I am happy. Which, a wise man (Mr.Hii) once told me it is better than "luxury living". He said good health, moral code and happiness are the keys to luxury. Not warm showers or blackberry phones. And guess what. He's right.
The trip here was a long one. Our flight had to turn around and we got delayed a long while but we made it. Boy, was it worth the wait.
The moment I got off the plane my heart started to pound. Africa. I really made it. The air was a thick warm musk of comfort. The horizon sighed "you made it" It was four a.m Ghana time and I was finally here.
When I arrived the military uniforms made my insides lace with a quick fear but I literally cried out of happiness when it hit me. When we met Nyammi he was the nicest man I thought I had ever met. That would change, because everyone here seems like the nicest person in the world. Because they truly are amazing here.
The humidity sticks to you like glue.
Dear Arizona, If you think you know heat - go to Ghana.
The people here are gorgeous. They walk with such confidence. So striking with their many colors, almond eyes and wide smiles. They are beautiful.
On our way out of Accra (the capitol) to get to my host family's house we had a three hour ride in a tro-tro, a type of van. Stuffed with people and ragae beats my heart was so at peace. My eyes tired but failing to fully sleep, there was so much to take in. I have never seen what "tropical" was untill now. I wrote as I watched,
The green belly swells up and ripples outward.
God never forgot Africa, it was She who He remembered first.
I've never seen such organic life. The green is tastable. It screams at you, it caresses you. Seducing you into her Africa is the holder of truths burried deep into mother nature's history.
How dare she be called the dark continent. The colors here are glorious. They drip off of everything in sheer brillance. The land sings art. Inspires the senses. Awakens the iris that has been stuck in sameness for so long.
Today I awoke at dawn to roosters and my host mother (who is the most beautiful woman, so inviting, so amazing, I feel at home.) I feel awake despite the hours of sleep. I feel energized by her tea and white bread and jam breakfasts. I can't wait to start my days. There are no mirrors here. I adore it. Make up is obsolete. Even if i wanted it I would sweat it all off. The only way I can judge how I look is from the neck down. A birds eye view. It is entirely liberating.
I miss home for it's people it cradles. I miss my mother and family. I miss friends. But these feeling of homesickness have not attached themselves to me. I am far too excited to be here to miss comforts of home. Im sure this will change. I am also sure I will long so deeply for Ghana after I come back to the states. The people are irresitable, warm, inviting.
I have met the other volunteers and love them already. We go out for beers and minerals (soda) each night about and talk. Today I was shown around the town. The market was skattered with life. Children run up and ask to touch your skin. I've never stood out so much, and it is humbling. Mr. Hii was our tour guide today, catering to us in so many ways. I cannot wait to see him again. Projects Abroad has thought of our every need. I feel safe, I know so many details I otherwise wouldn't and they are constantly concerned with our happiness, making sure we feel at home.
I go to the orphanage come monday. I am more than excited. I cannot wait to be called "Yevu" (white person) and laugh with the beautiful children there. I will write all about it when I get the chance.
As for other details.
I can recieve mail, the postal address to use if you wish to do so is
Rebecca Christ
c/o Projects Abroad
P.O. Box 1341
Ho
Volta Region
Ghana
Also, I got a cell phone for use while here. Text messaging me should not cost you much if you would like a phone call let me know, it is very cheap for me to do so.
00233 0542528724
I hope to update again soon. This internet cafe is fast, cheap and of course, as always, friendly. The manager here, "Fortune", is kind and I'm sure us volunteers will give him a bunch of buisness. :) I love all of you, be sure not so worry, I am more than safe, I am happy. Which, a wise man (Mr.Hii) once told me it is better than "luxury living". He said good health, moral code and happiness are the keys to luxury. Not warm showers or blackberry phones. And guess what. He's right.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Swandive.
I'm sitting on top of my cradling bed. The edges of anticipation are crawling up my veins and singe the insides of my eyes into such a brilliantly frustrating Awake state.
There is no cure for this insomnia caused by excitement. I would trade it for nothing. It swirls behind my eyelids. I think of all the lists I have made. All the things I have bought. What I may forget. What I will fail to prepare for. Mostly I just lay in the darkness thinking of how much life has blessed me. How much I have changed in such a short time. How much everyone tells me I will change after this next month. I think of my mother. I think of how she worries.
Tonight I went out with her. I am going to miss her so much. I am going to miss everyone. I can't wait to taste the panic of culture shock. The pain of wanting normal.
I can feel the crinkled pangs of homesickness begin to seep into me.
I have been waiting for Africa for so long now.
Yet it feels like three minutes ago I was sitting at my desk after a drained new years, writing a series of lists, and the idea of going to Africa became a sure reality.
I have no idea what to expect.
Which is the perfect thing to anticipate. Nothing. Everything.
There is no cure for this insomnia caused by excitement. I would trade it for nothing. It swirls behind my eyelids. I think of all the lists I have made. All the things I have bought. What I may forget. What I will fail to prepare for. Mostly I just lay in the darkness thinking of how much life has blessed me. How much I have changed in such a short time. How much everyone tells me I will change after this next month. I think of my mother. I think of how she worries.
Tonight I went out with her. I am going to miss her so much. I am going to miss everyone. I can't wait to taste the panic of culture shock. The pain of wanting normal.
I can feel the crinkled pangs of homesickness begin to seep into me.
I have been waiting for Africa for so long now.
Yet it feels like three minutes ago I was sitting at my desk after a drained new years, writing a series of lists, and the idea of going to Africa became a sure reality.
I have no idea what to expect.
Which is the perfect thing to anticipate. Nothing. Everything.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Adventure Begins.
My email is: rchrist89@hotmail.com
My Skype account is: rebecca_christ
I would send mail to the P.O. Box down below if I were you. :) If that detail changes I will be sure to change it on here as well.
MY ACCOMMODATION:
Name:
Mrs. Bernice Nunyuie
Residential Address:
House Number B4/64
Ho-Bankoe
Volta Region
Ghana
Host Tel Number (mobile):
00233 20 6336798/00233 28 7282488
Postal Address:
P. O. Box HP1376
Ho
Volta Region
Ghana
MT PROJECT:
Name of Institution:
Drifting Angels' Anchor Orphanage
Address:
P.O.Box 6,
Tsito
Ho
Volta Region
Ghana
My Skype account is: rebecca_christ
I would send mail to the P.O. Box down below if I were you. :) If that detail changes I will be sure to change it on here as well.
MY ACCOMMODATION:
Name:
Mrs. Bernice Nunyuie
Residential Address:
House Number B4/64
Ho-Bankoe
Volta Region
Ghana
Host Tel Number (mobile):
00233 20 6336798/00233 28 7282488
Postal Address:
P. O. Box HP1376
Ho
Volta Region
Ghana
MT PROJECT:
Name of Institution:
Drifting Angels' Anchor Orphanage
Address:
P.O.Box 6,
Tsito
Ho
Volta Region
Ghana
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