June 12, 2011
So, Italy trip. I spent my first day in Rome by myself running around Aventine Hill and Trastevere taking pictures and just generally enjoying all the other white people! There were no, “ Hey Yevu” “Obruni” or “White lady, give me money.” IT WAS NICE!!!! After a day of running around feeling like a real girl again and a half carafe of wine, I sat somewhat drunk on a rock and watched the sinking sun cast shadows across Circus Maximus…it was such a nice moment. It made me realize that my old, real life is still there. That all the crap about Ghana that makes me feel crazy is only temporary…this weird, uncomfortable, confusing, not understanding, part of my life is just that—part of my life, not the whole thing. In a little over a year I’ll be back to my ho-hum American life and be itching for some romanticized adventure, again.
The next day Leila and I found each other at Termini station; it was sooo great seeing her! We hopped a train to Florence (and yes, of course, I had picked up olives and cheese for the ride J), checked in to our hostel and headed out in search of Hefeweizen beer. After some misses and a tromp through the leather market, we were walking towards the river and Leila sees a pub and says, “Oh let’s just check it.” And they had HEFEWEIZEN!!! And a really awesome bartender named Eli. So we sat there and got kinda drunk…it was so delicious! That’s when Jersey Shore came walking by with all the cameramen and stuff…it was pretty neat. JS was spending a month in Florence…we were to have a couple more run ins with them over the next few days…they only one I saw that I knew (I’ve only seen the first season…dude, I live in Ghana and am desperate for tv material) was Snookie…she is so short! Anyway… So Florence, we went to the Uffizi Gallery…super crowded, I’m not a museum person to begin with, but I did get to see the Birth of Venus, so that was cool. We went shopping for leather purses and after 2 days of contemplation I gave in and bought a really nice leather purse…my first real leather purse, I think…I’m 28 years old. We climbed the bell tower at the Duomo and that was really beautiful and also firmed my ass up, which was already getting heavier due to the gelato and cheese…worth it. So we loved the pub we were at the night before and were trying to find it back. There is something about Florence that I just never figured out; I could look at the map and still get completely lost when trying to find a specific place; there is no grid, or North and South direction. We spent probably an hour and a half walking in circles, squares, octagons…you get the point…trying to find this no name bar. After we gave up and were just gonna go somewhere else, we ran into a couple English guys we met the night before at the pub. As it turns out, and as we already knew…which is why it was so f’n frustrating, we were very close to it. So we follow their verbal directions the 2 blocks and low and behold the pub is not 100 yards from where we started…after that we marked it on our map with a big, fat, black star! So Florence is summed up: Hefeweizen, running circles, Duomo, Jersey Shore, and Marco Polo…that’s just for you Leila.
Next we headed to Cinque Terre via Pisa. We stopped off in Pisa and dropped our luggage at lockers in the station and headed to the leaning tower. We took pics, headed back, grabbed bags and hopped a train to Manarola. (FYI: Cinque Terre is 5 villages that are on the cliffs on the “Italian Riviera”). So we have to change trains in Spezia and there is a McDonalds!!! And yes I did!! Ohhhhhh French fries!!! So as I shove my face with greasy American goodness we roll along the Mediterranean. Manarola is a beautiful little village built on a hill and covered with brightly painted blocks of homes; lil’ boats are tethered in the harbor and the fisherman bring their catch in and you see them selling directly to the restaurants…nice. So we climb UPPPPPPP the hill to our hostel, drop our stuff, and head down to take pictures of the sunset…soooo pretty. We then eat our first of all delicious meals in Manarola (this is where we had the best tiramisu). The next day we do the 3 hour inland hike to Corneglia (next village) which is UPPPPPP through vineyards, olive groves, and pine forest…all the while there is the Mediterranean. The hike was AWESOME (but it was quite hot; I was surprised how warm Italy was already)! The scenery is so different than Ghana. Once back in our village we shower and chill and then head down for another awesome dinner: I had mussels as an appetizer and they were the best I have ever tasted! I also had the squid ink pasta…it was really good, and very black. After that we went to a lil wine place that we visited earlier that day since the guy told us they have live music at night. So the music consisted of random people drifting in and picking up guitars and playing together and also one old man who sings opera. It was so great. 2 of the guys were playing Spanish guitars and they were sooooo awesome!!! I thought of you Jason; you would have enjoyed their playing very much. Our hostel had a midnight curfew, so at 11:50 we start running up the hill and make it huffing and puffing just in time. The next day we go to Monterosso and hit the beach. The water was so clear, but it was really cold. The water was calm, which is a complete change from Ghana beaches; it was really nice. That night, as we got ready to go out for our last dinner, we decided to drink our wine we bought the day before. Cinque Terre is known for their dessert wine, Sciacchetra (sounds kinda like Chaka Khan…at least to me), and it is quite expensive in the restaurants, so we decided to buy a bottle at the shop instead. So we go down to the hostel’s restaurant and ask for a bottle opener. Leila hands the bottle to the guy (who is always kinda grumpy acting, but is actually a nice person…or so I decided for the 3 days I knew him) and he comes back and goes, “Do you know what this is? This is Sciacchetra!” “Yeah we know, we bought it on purpose.” “It’s very strong. Like Vermouth. You’ll get really drunk.” “Uh, ok, we’ll go easy on it, can you just open it?” As we’re walking back to the elevator looking at each other like, “that was weird” (because we did try a glass before we bought it, it was strong, but nothing crazy), the hostel owner goes, “Oh ladies, be careful it is very strong. You drink while you sit, when you stand up you fall.” So we’re like, oh shit, this is gonna be crazy. It was not crazy. We were able to drink the bottle (which was smaller than most bottles) and still walk just fine down to the harbor for dinner. So Cinque Terre: awesome hike, tiramisu, Sciacchetra, and floating in the sea.
Next we were off to Certaldo in Tuscany. We arrive at the station and call the hostel (which is an old monastery and used to be a running vineyard) and they say they’ll be there in a hour or so to pick us and other guests. We head to the grocery store since this place is a communal kitchen and no restaurants. So here we are trying to shop for the first time in a grocery store in Italy with our hugondus backpacks on. I’m sure it was hilarious, but it just sucked at the time. But I really did love shopping at a grocery store…all the produce, meat and CHEESE….ohhh copious amounts of cheese! We bought a lot of stuff including: fresh pasta, basil, bread, strawberries, olive oil, prosciutto, Mozzarella, and Gorgonzola cheese. We then haul our crap back to the train station and wait for the van, which comes and picks us and these 4 frat boys up…they were freakin’ hilarious. They booked this place thinking it was in Florence…it’s almost 2 hours away; absolute typical frat boy mannerisms and everything…so funny. So this hostel is really beautiful and old, with great grounds and really soft green grass…felt so good between my toes. We eat dinner and sit around with the other guests and the 2 people (wife is Aussie, husband is Canadian) who are helping out with the place this summer. We all drink wine and get a lil tipsy and then we all decide to go to the bar down the street as the Aussie lady leads us all, and I quote, “Honey, the douchebags are coming with us, but they promised to behave.” Speaking to her husband and referring to the frat boys who are right behind her. I love this woman. We all go and she orders us all Negronis, “a real Italian drink.” It consists of gin, something else, and sweet vermouth with an orange slice in it…it was f’n gross!!! But being a good sport and already toasted up from the wine, I drink it while talking with everyone. There are a bunch of old local men who are sitting around waiting for an underground card game…or so we’re told…we just see them eyein’ all us girls, eek. So most of us end up getting incredibly drunk that night. The next day no one moves around very early. I wake up, take a shower, and eventually haul my butt down to the hammock to read a magazine, but then decide I have to throw up…yup…but after that I feel a ton better and by 2pm we rode bikes into town to pick up steaks and other food to cook that night. I hadn’t rode a bike in so long, and it was slightly jankity at that…thank God Leila volunteered to hook the sack on her handlebars on the way home. After we dropped off our groceries we decided to take the hour or so hike to Certaldo Alto, the medieval part of the village that sits up on the hill. Another girl from the hostel came with us and we followed our hand drawn map through the picturesque Tuscan hills, surrounded once again by vineyards, olive trees, and beautiful old villas. It was such a delightful walk. We end up in the medieval village, grab some gelato, and take the funicular back down to the new town. The next day we go to Siena for only about an hour because we got a late start and had to get back by 6 so we could go with the group to San Gimingano, which is a medieval village that used to have over 70 towers, and now only a few remain. It was a really beautiful drive and the village was quite stunning, too. We did some shopping and then headed back to the hostel for our last night. I really enjoyed this place; it was so relaxing and I really like everyone cooking in the communal kitchen. The grounds were really beautiful and just super chill and welcoming.
We then headed off to Rome for our last stop. We stayed with a couchsurfer here; and he also was hosting 3 other girls as the same time as us. It was sort of a weird situation. We were at the end of our trip and were tired; Leila was sick, and our last night they wanted to go out and party, but we didn’t…so that felt kinda strange, but overall…ok. (Oh, BTW I spent my first night in Rome with a couchsurfer too, he was hosting two other girls at same time. It was really nice…although his cat peed on my backpack). So to get to this couchsurfer’s house we had to take the train then a bus, or a really long bus ride into the city center. So our first evening in Rome we decide to take the long bus in, get out, wander around really hungry, but didn’t want to eat by the touristy places, but we couldn’t find anything that looked authentic and not douchey. Leila was not feeling well and was noticeably tired of me dragging her through side streets trying to find something that looked ok. So we ate at a tourist trap, the food was just ok, and it was expensive…I did get a Hefeweizen beer though. We walked by the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps and then just decided to head back to the house to chill. Poor Leila looked like she was about to die. We went to the bus station and waited…and waited…and waited…for over an hour. It was almost 11 when we finally decided to go back to the metro station and take the train to where we had to catch a different bus, and the last one ran at midnight. So, we eventually made it home. We later found out that some of the buses were on strike…so we assume that’s why our bus never came…reminded me of Ghana! We went to the Colosseum the next day; there were these gladiator guys and you could dress up as Cleopatra and take pics with them; I thought it was kind of stupid, but Leila made me do it and it was really a lot of fun…Leila, you were right…there I said it J We wandered around the Forum and then just roamed the different streets; we found this awesome restaurant that a guy from Peace Corps recommended. It had the best food we ate the entire trip! I had the ravioli with zucchini flower and Leila had the truffle pasta…f’n delicious. We drank wine and enjoyed ourselves. One of the waiters had a crush on Leila and kept doting on us, so our female waitress decided to give us each a free Limoncello because he was always hanging around our table, then the Romeo waiter brought us Limoncellos and an extra half carafe of wine…I left drunk and couldn’t read the map to get home. Leila, who always says she’s bad at maps, found our way back to the metro/bus like a champ!! We liked the place so much we went back the next night too. I had the gnocchi and it was THE BEST I have ever tasted…the texture was unreal….oh so good…and of course more free Limoncello and wine.
We went to the Vatican and wandered around; I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many people in once place as in St. Peter’s Square…it was insane! We didn’t get in to the Basilica, but the museum was cool…as far as museums go; I liked it better than the Uffizi in Florence. On Leila’s last day in Rome we wandered around and shopped. I ended up buying a pair of purple suede sandals…I love them! But they and my new purse are being FedEx’d (at an exorbitant rate I might add) from HoHoe this Tuesday to the safety of America. We had our last dinner and then headed back to the house to pack and get ready for her to fly out the next day and me to move to my hostel for my last night. Poor Leila was sick for the last 4 days of our trip, but she was a trooper and we had a great time. It was really sad the next day saying goodbye at the train station. After spending 2 weeks with her it was like when we were in Austin together, and then I realized I had to give her up for another year…boooo.
I went to my hostel, chilled for a bit, put on my purple sandals, new linen shirtdress, leather purse and sashayed my sassy ass out for a final day of make-believe. I had my last two glasses of wine, ate a great lunch and then walked up to the Pincio Gardens and spent the afternoon in the grass, under a tree, reading a book…delightful. After that, I went to a grocery store, picked up some Coppa, Gorgonzola, basil, and salami for dinner, along with a couple Hefeweizens and a big ol’ lemon, cookies and candies for my villagers, olive oil, olives and parmesan cheese to bring back to Ghana for Chris and I and went back to the hostel for my last hot shower. At the hostel I met this really awesome girl from Zimbabwe, who studies in London; I had a great evening chatting with her and some of the other girls at the hostel. The next morning I went out for my last cappuccino and decided to go back to the grocery store to pick up more candies for the villagers and also one last Hefeweizen (no I’m not an alcoholic, but I had some lemon left ;)….and it’s gonna be another year before it touches my lips again…) Then back to the hostel, then the train station, then the airport.
Landed in Ghana on June 4, 2011, exactly one year since I landed here the first time; and just like the first time it was raining. I get inside to clear passport control and there is something new…fingerprint and retina scanners…are you FUCKING kidding me? In Ghana? They don’t even know what they are used for; and I have never in any airport in the world had to do this. Then you get to baggage claim and the roof is leaking from like 15 spots….THIS IS GHANA!!!! LOL. Eyescanners and a leaking roof…development money well spent yet once again J So I go through the airport jazz, and then walk the block in the rain to get to the point where you can actually get a decently priced taxi…once you haggle of course. BACK IN GHANA….I wasn’t sad about that. I get to the PC dorm, shower and go to bed. Next day I head to the tro yard and wait for an hour for a tro to HoHoe. Then the stationmaster tries to cheat me on my baggage. So I argue, he threatens to throw me out, I bitch some more, plead to the man next to me, who agrees I’m being cheated and he gets out and starts arguing and then goes to the ticket man and tells on the baggage man…and then I get the price I want (the fair one), we get in the tro and we head to HoHoe. I drop at Chris’s village and we hang out, drink a Ghanaian beer (no Hefeweizen) and eat fufu with light soup!! Yum. The next day I head to HoHoe, go to market, and then head to the village. The tro breaks down for like an hour on the way to the village, but when I step down at my hill, there’s Salomay running toward me yelling, “atu, atu” which means hug. So we hug and kids start hauling my bags up the hill. I great Esther at the Kindergarten and I have no less than 15 lil kids wrapped around my knees screaming, “Sister Boala, you are welcome.” They made me really happy. I missed my people; maybe I didn’t realize it until I was back.
So this week I’ve been seeing people and getting hugs and trying to get back in the game of my Ghanaian life. “Oh Boala, you have grown fat small.” Yup and it was so worth it!! “Jeanna, you are white!” Yes, I’ve always been white, didn’t you notice? :)
Since I’ve returned I’ve had an inner peace that I haven’t felt in a very long time. Maybe it’s the high of vacation, but I think it is more. I think it’s the realization that this is just a small part of my life…only two years. And while certain aspects of living in Ghana drive me absolutely insane, all those things will cease to exist in another year, and all I’ll have are memories, so I need to focus on the things that make me happy and not get caught up in the headache that is trying to do development work. Acknowledge the bullshit, address it, then let it be; don’t hold myself to expectations that are just not possible in this place…I’m not magic. Be firm with people, but don’t let the constant requests drain me. Do the best I can and respect the limits of my capabilities as a person and as a PCV. I dunno, I feel really good right now, peaceful, thankful, and have a certain clarity that I hope stays with me. I know I’ve only been back for a week and within three months I may be ready to hang myself again, but I still have some vacation days left…and Morocco is calling my name…
Yesterday, Mawuli and I dug dirt and planted a bunch of herb seeds in water sachets, so hopefully in a month or so I’ll have seedlings to plant in the garden he and I are working on. He is always so busy and we never get to hang out one on one, but when we do I learn all kinds of stuff that’s been going on in the village that I never find out about because I don’t understand Sekua…it was a very pleasant day.
So the new group of volunteers arrived in Accra this week. Next week they will be sent on their first tro ride to find their vision quest host…for 2 of them that will be me. I’ll have two trainees for 5 days to help orientate them to village life in Ghana; so I’m excited for that. I remember how exciting my vision quest was and I can’t believe that now I’m the host…crazy.
So that’s my super long post after a very dry spell of not writing; sorry-o. Hope you all are well and I love you very much. Also, thank you to all of my Austin peops who gave cards to Leila for my birthday last year; she brought them to Italy with her and it was really special to get them after this hard year. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
j
