nearing the end

People ask me all the time why I chose to come to Ghana; why I chose Africa. Any question that is asked over and over again is bound to get slightly annoying, at least to me, but it is more than redundancy that makes me uncomfortable with the question. I feel as though, if I would have chosen to go somewhere, say a European country, the tone of that question would be different, if asked at all. But who can blame them for wanting to know why—why I, a white American, choose to study in a black developing country. The truth of the matter is that I am not exactly sure why I came here; what drew me to a country so different than my own. Ever since I was young, something about the vast continent of Africa intrigued me. Of course my images of Africa were skewed, shaped solely by the media, but perhaps that’s just it—I wanted to see Ghana for myself. This wonder, inspired by my ignorance, may have motivated me to travel to Ghana. After all, aren’t humans driven by curiosity? But I know this is not the full explanation.
I am conflicted by this sense of guilt, as a middle-class American with a world of opportunities available to me, living in a world where people are suffering. I want to help people, to better the world in some small but heroic way (if only for selfish motives). But there is poverty, natural disasters, and discrimination inflicting my own homeland. Plus, I would have come here as volunteer worker if I truly had been driven by a desire to “develop” Africa. But I didn’t, I came to Ghana as a student, a student attempting to learn more about a culture; a culture that led Africa in the movement for independence. Ghana is a dynamic country with a rich history where a sort of dualism (if not pluralism) exists. This dualism is found in the haunting past of colonialism paired with the redefined sense of freedom and a conflicting search for identity. It is found in the mixing of traditions with modernization. It is in this fragile balance of ideologies that I find myself, as a foreigner, in a challenging position. It is impossible for me to see Ghana as it truly exists because I am seeing Ghana through the perspective of a Westerner. I cannot simply take my tinted shades off because to do so would mean to rewrite my past. But to truly attempt to understand Ghana, I must try to do it exactly that. As I near the end of my stay here in Ghana, reflecting on my experience, I wonder how I could have made better use of my time. Perhaps I should have better plunged myself into Ghana’s culture. Maybe I should have better avoided my instinct to homogenize. But the very fact that I am critically asking myself these questions reveals to me that my world view has been expanded. I now truly feel comfortably with saying I have cultural relativism.
Living abroad has challenged me to step outside my boundaries. There have been times that I felt home sick, times that I felt annoyed with “Ghanaian hospitality,” times when I thought I would pass out from the heat, times when I craved hot showers—but I survived it all. In fact, I did more then survive it, I embraced it and the uncomfortable stages have only made me more humble. I have found a whole new appreciation for diversity—not just in Ghana but in the unique experience of living in an international hostel. The other day, as I was sitting around a dinner table, I realized how blessed it was to be given this unique opportunity. I was sitting at a table with friends from all over the world—China, France, Sudan, Pakistan, Norway, Japan.
With globalization and assimilation (combined with imperialism) our identity—who am I?—is the question that conflicts many of us. As an American who’s parents and grandparents were born in America my search for self is not displaced in some Diaspora but in my industrialized, capitalistic, individualistic homeland I search for my identity nonetheless. Without a doubt these experiences has shaped me and help me understand more about myself.
One can never step into the same river twice because the water that flows through its streams is never the same. People are like rivers in this sense. Time changes everyone; we are constantly evolving. When I return home I will see through new shades. There are things from Ghanaian culture that I hope to adopt in my life back home, like being less individualized and friendlier with strangers, taking the time to help someone on the streets and really getting to know people whom I may have previously never have gotten a chance to speak with.
If I could sum up what I learned having lived abroad, it would be that the world is vastly more complex than anyone can imagine and it is filled with unique individuals but at the core of it all we are all people with universal emotions and our similarities outnumber our differences. Our differences should be embraced but in universal harmony. So while I may never know why exactly I came to Ghana, I do know that I do not regret the decision to come whatsoever. Studying abroad has helped me see myself and the world through clearer lenses.

3 exams down, one more to go

Today I had my first real exam that wasn’t USAC (my study-abroad program) designed.I find it odd that they run exams on Sunday's, especially when a lot of shops are closed on Sundays and with church and all. It was trickier than I had imagined. It was all essay questions and one of the questions, the one that weighed the most, was worded very oddly. It was down-pouring and lightening during the final and the room we were in, like most of the classrooms here, was very open to the outside which made it awesome.

During the exam I got a huge craving for Italian food so I convinced Queen Star to go with me to Mama Mia’s, a restaurant downtown. There, we had a very snobby waitress and Queen Star was getting annoyed. I found it interesting because the server was Ghanaian and every time I talked she looked only at Queen Star, who is also Ghanaian. Even with giving me the soda I ordered, she’d put it in front of Queen Star. We all have prejudices i guess.

Snakes, stealing monkeys, and phantoms—Oh my!

Last weekend Meagan, Corbett, Ric and I went to the country of Benin. Benin is a francophone country and in many ways similar to Togo. Most everyone if Benin practices some form of Voodoo or juju. In a period of 12 hours we traveled by trotro through 3 African countries. We stayed the first night in Benin in the city of Ouidah. Our hotel was nothing great but it was in the center of the village and had this quaint little rooftop seating where we spent the first night talking and enjoying the view of the village and the sky.

The next morning we walked to the “temple of Pythons” where we found a zillion (well probably like a hundred or two) pythons. I think at one point I had like 6 snakes all up on me. I wasn’t afraid at all, I’m pretty use to Ball Pythons, but I can’t say the same for the rest of the group. Eventually everyone felt comfortable embracing the snakes. The temple we were at was built largely for tourism, but we were told that the villagers believe the snakes to be sacred and thus they are protected.

Walking around we happened to find ourselves caught in the middle of a voodoo parade with hundreds of people marching through the streets. There were a few people in elaborate customs dressed as Phantoms. The phantoms go around chasing people and the people literally look like they are running for their lives to escape the phantoms touch. One Phantom was very close to Ric and I, and all of a sudden started running our way. Luckily, there was a tree between us and just as fast as he appeared he vanished back into the mass of people. Parades like this happen often on the weekends.

That same day we traveled to Grand Popo and stayed at a hotel on the beach. When Ric and I were sitting by the ocean we noticed an SUV driving along the shore. As the vehicle passed us, a group of 4 men waved to us. After they passed, about 40 seconds and 30 feet later, they got stuck in the sand for quite some time. One of the passengers, as the driver tried to maneuver his way through the sand, came over and talked to us. We did the usual casual chitchat and then he told us we should stop by their hotel later for dinner. About an hour or two later they came back with their car and told us we should come now. We all said what the hell and went with them. Their hotel was about 10 times nicer then ours. The four men were from Lebanon and did business in Benin. They were all a lot older but very nice. As it turned out, the dinner was more of an elaborate home-made picnic and they made traditional Lebanese food. There was fish that was caught fresh that day, salad, this pita thingy, and fresh pineapple juice. We sat by the fire outside eating and smoking hookah. I would have liked to stay longer but Meagan wasn’t feeling well so we headed back to our hotel.
I love the fact that I can sit by the shore and my night can turn into something unexpected like that. I like befriending strangers and being guided by open possibilities. I felt, and I’m sure the other girls did too, a lot safer having Ric with us. But really, people in this part of the world are just friendlier and most have good intentions. People are so interesting and if you take chances, you’ll understand what I mean.

The next morning we went on a two hour canoe ride through a stilt village. This community revolved around fishing and it was so interesting to see the fishermen (and women) and their nets. As we passed some of the homes we saw little children playing a game with phantoms. It’s something you don’t think about everyday, but it was neat to see how children from different cultures “play.”

Because our visas only allowed us two days in Benin we spent the third night in Togo. We were told about this small hotel close to the border that was nice. It turned out to be a pretty awesome find. The lobby of the hotel was decorated in some of the most beautiful African art I have seen. There were also pet monkeys! There was this little monkey (I think she was a mono monkey) named Suzy. At times she could be super sweet and at other times she was a bitch but all the while she was cute. She stole Meagan’s sunglasses and put them on and she try stealing whatever she could get her hands on. She’d sometimes bite us pretty hard too. Other times she’d lie on my lap and cuddle with me. She slept with a blanky, adorable!
Not visible to guests, but since we befriended a guy who lived there, we were able to see the baboon pet. She was female and had a great dislike for other females. She was not in the lobby because she’d throw rocks at the guests. I tired to get closer to her and in return I got a face full of sand. She did however like males, and Ric was able to shake her hand. The guy told us that she has gotten lose a few times and when she does she goes about the village stealing babies from mothers and when the mothers try to get their children back she hits them. She’s very gentle with the babies and I guess the act stems from her great desire to be a mother. It’s very sad in a way.

On the way back home we opted to take the big bus instead of a trotro. Bad idea! The bus made so many long stops and then we got a flat tired and had to wait around for a new one. Also, during a checkpoint in Ghana, a police guard asked for our passports on the buss (clearly our skin color shouts foreigner!) and made us get off the bus so he could record our information down in his log book. To make matters worse, ric and I had about the worse seat on the bus. The windows were set up so out of a three rows, the middle row’s window couldn’t slide open. We sat in the middle, which wouldn’t have been that bad if the person in front of behind us wanted their windows open! I tried several times to get the window opened but they kept sliding it back. I sweating more then I’ve sweated in a sauna. Eventually, as the bus picked up speed I could feel the faint air from distant windows. It was a long trip back but I’ve grown to appreciate the self-reflection that occurs on long trips.

Thanks

Time is a strange thing here. Thanksgiving has just past and Christmas is on its way. Shopping malls have Christmas decorations, downtown buildings have Christmas lights, and Christmas songs dominate the radio stations but the weather has stayed consistently hot, if not increasing in temperature. What I use to measure time has failed me; the weather is unchanging yet time keeps moving.

Our program joined forces with two other study abroad programs to put together an American (with a twist of Ghanaian) Thanksgiving feast. There was turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry jam, and even pie. There were also traditional Ghanaian dishes and between dinner and desert there was traditional African dancing. It was a good night—truly a Thanksgiving that sticks out among the rest. Being away puts things into a perceptive that I cannot easily see when I’m close; the distance actually clears my understanding. I’m more thankful for my blessings than I have probably ever been.

I must be off to bed; tomorrow we are leaving before the sun rises to go to Benin (my 3rd Africa country).

Volta Region

There are some moments in life that one knows they will never forget. Moments where a feeling is so strong that it becomes ingrained in the mind like a scar on skin. This weekend was filled with those moments. I could feel the passing time accumulating to build a larger meaning—one worth never loosing.
April, myself, and our Rasta friend named Afro traveled northeast to the Volta Region this weekend. After traveling in a trotro we arrived near Afro’s family village. There we took a motorbike to his uncle’s house. The house was an average…middle class house for Ghana and by that I mean it had several cement rooms with no running water but a well and electricity. There was a small yard with chickens and goats and the bedroom that we were offered had a bed. Not long after we had arrived we decided to check out Afro’s family farm/village which was a 15 minute motorbike ride away. On the farm was cassava plants, beans, corn, and others that I have already forgotten. About a mile into the land we arrived at Afro’s family village section. The land was basically a big circle with huts, most made of dirt, enclosing the center. It was so amazing there. Having had a semester of learning Twi I was excited to put my language skills into action but frustrated when I learned that Afro’s family spoke another tribal language. We met the head of the village and the eldest women, who was Afro’s Grandfather’s second wife. When first saw her she was peeling some sort of nut, sitting topless. When I shook her hand I couldn’t help but notice her thumbs—they were unusually flat. April and I found the place so beautiful and the people so nice we decided we would prefer to stay the night here and have a bonfire. We bought two bottles of alcohols while wood was being fetched for a fire. When the sun vanished, the fire was lit, and the night began. The head of the village did a long toast to the ancestors and then the drinking began. One bottle probably only made it around the circle twice. The fire was huge and there was music being played and the elderly women were dancing and singing. This was an authentic traditional Ghanaian experience, one that no tourist attraction could offer. The celebration lasted well into the night and eventually April and I got tired, especially after hours of traveling, so we were given a bamboo mat and there we lied, right next to the fire on a crystal clear African night. The sky was filled with stars and I remember having this surreal sense of the universe and thinking about ancestors up in the sky as stars and how deeply faith rules the lives of these people. I'm not religious in any sense but that night I felt like something up there was staring back at me, even if I thought it was only a massive ball of gas or alien life from some distant galaxy—I know I was not alone. I fell asleep to the sounds of drums and the slowly dying fire.


We awoke the next morning slightly sore and said our thanks gave our farewells and continued on of journey to Hohoe where the supposed tallest waterfall in West Africa lies. It was about a miles hike to Wli Falls. The water was very cold but felt extremely nice after a hike in the heat. Looking up, I could see tons of bats on the side of the fall. If we had had more time I would have loved to go inside on the caves; friends have bragged how cool it was. Next we traveled to the Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary. We arrived at night and all the guest houses were full so we opted to do the “local stay.” We stayed in the room of a local blind man’s house.



The next morning I awoke at 5:30 am to see mono monkeys. It was explained that the local people migrated from the Brong Ahafo area 200 years ago and with them they brought fetishes for monkeys. There it was a taboo to harm the sacred monkeys which protected them when other populations died because of hunters. The sanctuary has over 300 mono monkeys. I saw about 30. I got to hand-feed them bananas. They are adorable creatures and watching them so close up…even touching them, was such an awesome experience. Their hands, the way they eat, the faces they make…are so freakishly like ours.
We made out way back home. The trotro ride was around 5 hours. You’d be surprised how much of Ghana I’ve seen through the windows of trotros. The ride was scenic, with beautiful mountains and lushes greens.

Millie's Big Backyard

I was able to break away from the busy city life of Accra this weekend. I spent the weekend with my three girlfriends at a beach resort. Kokrobite beach is only about 30km from where I live but it feels much farther. We stayed at a place called Millie’s Big Backyard (check out there website for pics and info: http://www.bigmilly.com).
Millie’s backyard is like a little community of travelers and locals and the atmosphere is very relaxed and welcoming. Friday’s dinner was served buffet-style (adding to the communal feel) followed by a night of “culture.” Culture night consisted of traditional dancing, fire breathers, and all sorts of excitement. Saturday night featured a reggae band and we danced the night away, all the while drinking the local island rum. During the days we spent most of the time soaking up the sun and swimming in the ocean. I remember sitting along the shore being amazed by all the life taking place around me. There was a game of soccer being played on the sand, men were taking fishing boats out, women were walking along the shore selling fresh fruits and jewelry, friendly dogs were roaming about, swimmers were catching waves, and I even saw people pass by on horses. It was a very good weekend. Now I’m back home and it’s time to start cracking down. Final exams are quickly approaching and to say I’m behind on my studies is an understatement; it’s just so easy here to get caught up in other things besides school, in my defense.

Halloween wasnt so hollow

Halloween has come and gone. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, if not my most favorite. This year there was no pumpkin carving, haunted houses, or trick o’ treaters. I did manage though to celebrate Halloween as any college student in America does: by dressing up and going to the bars. Ghana does not recognize Halloween except for some parts of campus and downtown European-inspired clubs and bars. My friends and I decided we would put on costumes and make the most of it. Two of my friends went dressed up as an Indian and a Cowgirl. I decided I would go as Amy Winehouse. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. My ipod was on shuffle and a song of hers played and I remembered that several people have said I resemble her (whether that’s a negative or a positive is besides the point). So that was that, I would be Amy. It worked out well as everything I needed to complete my costume I had already owned. We had seen advertisements for a Halloween party at this one club we go to (Bella Roma) so we decided to check it out. I wasn’t expecting much. I thought we would be among the few who dressed up but to my surprise the place was decked out in Halloween decorations and everyone was in costumes (and there was candy!). The whole night I was wondering where people got their costumes. There were legitimate costumes, like the kind you can only buy from Halloween stores, and there were tons of very cool (and very creepy mask). I had searched Accra for a place to buy a costume and failed miserably. Most everyone got that I was Winehouse and a remix of her rehab song came on which pretty much made my night.