Good Times, Peaceful Mind

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

Back in Village

Hi All,

So I’m back from Italy and it was awesome.  Leila and I had a great time eating and drinking, laughing, hiking, and just generally hanging out. I’m back in Ghana now; one year down, 15 months to go!!!   Italy has refreshed me and I am in a noticibly more peaceful state of mind. No Italy pics because my modem is funky and I have to send it back to America; so have to go to internet cafe which is too slow for pic posting.  So, not many pics coming your way L  Sorry-o.

Hope you all are well. I’ll save up some posts and take them to the net and post them some time in the future.

Love,

J

Peace Out Goats and Tros, Hello Cheese and Wine

So this Thursday I will fly out to meet my good buddy Leila in Italy.  We'll travel around for a couple weeks and then I'll fly back to Ghana on June 4th...exactly one year since I landed in Ghana....holy moly, a whole year.

So I'll send you updates once I get back in Ghana.

j

Travel, batik, dance, and cow

Katie Mae and I at Cape Coast Castle

Katie Mae and Sheldon eating their first bites of fufu...it does take a little getting used to :)

Our hut at Oasis Beach Club in Cape Coast...mom and dad I think I will take you here :)

Playing Oware at Zion's house in Butre.

Zion cooking us banana pancakes at his house...he has some kickin dreads up under that hat!

Ran into some other PCV's. Chillin at Zion's.

Me enjoying my new camera on Butre Beach

Sheldon taking his beach run at Butre...yes, he's a personal trainer.

Katie Mae doing her first round of bucket laundry.

Katie Mae pounding fufu at Fo Nicho and Esther's

Sheldon pounding fufu at Fo Nicho and Esther's

I love this pic!  The men at Cape Coast pulling in the fishing nets from way out in the ocean.  It took over 3 hours (we left after 3 hours) to pull this in.  They sing and someone beats the drum to keep the pace of the pulling...really cool!

Us with my chief and elders after they poured libations.

Love this pic, too. Cute lil' popcorn seller on Cape Coast Beach

My kids drumming and dancing for us...this was before the "actual" ceremony/show.  This was just for fun!

Girls in my village in their outfits dancing....they be shakin' it!

Cape Coast Castle...our huts are right down the beach from it.

Girls in my village gettin' it. Most of these girls are in my after school club.

Katie Mae and kids on the Cape Coast Beach.  This guy is Prince...he's from Lebanon, lives in Accra and is f'n hilarious!!!

Lena and Confi batikin'...no, curlers are not mandatory.

Typical scene on batik day....kids running, butts in the air...a comfortable chaos.

The stuff in the bowl in konkunte...cassava powder mixed up...which we eat. But you can also use it with lace to make a really cool fabric pattern!

Our cauldrons bubbling on batik day.

Me and a piece of mystery beef that I was cutting up to cook Easter Spaghetti with.

They don't castrate their steers, so when they kill one all the testosterone rushes to the meat and you can taste it...and smell it...it's gross.

Chris with what we decided was probably part of the liver...but we don't really know.  We threw that chunk out to the dogs.

Monkey attacking his thick piece of cow skin.

Francis loving the brownies I baked for Easter.  Between him and Chris....geeze...those boys eat!

View out to sea from Cape Coast Castle window.

At Cape Coast Castle

Cannons at Cape Coast Castle

Yup, you guessed it...Cape Coast Castle

Fishing area on the beach in Cape Coast

View towards our huts from the castle.  See the line of men on the beach still pulling in the fish (far scene)...this was 4 hours after I started watching. At 6:30 am when I started watching they were way down where the single man is walking out of the water (near the camera) and now they are way down on the other end by the boats (far scene).  Our huts are closer than the boats and line of men.

Katie Mae, Sheldon and I at the castle next to the Obama plaque from his visit last year.

Beach at Butre

Drumming and shaking jam session at Butre

Door of No Return at the castle...this led to the ships

Me pounding fufu at Chris's house.

Apeteshi (moonshine) distillery in the bush in Chris's village.  We were out their collecting our palm wine :)

Grouch, Grouch, LOVE

April 27, 2011

Long time since the last post, I know.  I’ve been really busy in the village, Katie Mae and Sheldon visited and I just haven’t been in the mood to write.  Sooooo…

The batik group is in full swing.  We’ve stamped about 60 yards of fabric and I went and picked up supplies for 48 more yards last week.  Making batik is expensive; it is not very profitable if you can’t buy in large bulk, but we’re working on it and we’re all learning so…  This group is full of young women and there’s only 1 or 2 than are actually serious about the batik, the rest just use it for a social gathering, but that’s ok…it’s a break in their day to day of hauling water, hunting firewood, cooking, and taking care of the children.  So if it allows the women to get away from the kids and husbands for a day, it’s serving its purpose all the same. 

There is a young man in the village (Peter) who has recently graduated from batik and tailoring school.  I gave him one of my hobo bags to copy and he’s using our batik and lining it with flour sacks.  He should have these done for me this week.  My hope is that he will be able to produce these since you can make more money selling products that just cloth.  So if I pay him 1 cedi 50 pesawa a bag, and my 1 yard of fabric costs 4 cedi 50 pesawa and the flour sack costs 50 pesawa, I can sell the bag for 10 cedis and make 3 cedi 50 pesawa off that one yard instead of 30 pesawa, then I’ll be able to generate more money for the batik group.  I’ll have to find places to sell them in HoHoe since the lady a Wli makes her own batik and bags….so we’ll see.  I’m trying to link the different groups in the village so they can support each other’s small businesses and really take advantage of our tourism (batik group sells batik to women’s group and Peter uses our batik to make purses….everyone is making small money off it).  I have put “Likpe Todome Products" flyers in the visitor’s center so that we are advertised to the tourists...we’ve already made a couple sales from it.

I’m currently getting prices to have new brochures printed for the TMT.  Since I got my new SLR camera, I want to take some professional pics and redesign our brochures so I can distribute them around the tourist sites in Ghana.  I’m still trying to get a TMT meeting to discuss the missing 500 cedis…hopefully tonight.  Today I’m gonna write some proposals requesting funds (500 cedis) for brochures and 2 signboards (800 cedis) to advertise our site.  I’ll send the proposals to Ghana Tourism Board, the District Assembly, and the communication companies: Vodafone, Tigo, and MTN.  We’ll see if anything comes of it.  We wouldn’t have to request the funds if 500 cedis hadn’t been stolen from the TMT…but this is Ghana and chopping of money is done at all levels here…which is why millions of dollars of foreign aid never make to villages like mine…ministers need new Mercedes for God’s sake!!

The women’s group is chugging along.  I need to come up with some new product ideas that they can make.  I really wanna try to get a soap workshop together…I think that would be an awesome project for us…especially for the ones who are shitty sewers.

Next subject…Katie Mae and Sheldon were here for 2 weeks: we traveled to the coast and went to the Cape Coast Castle where millions of Africans were shipped to the new world in the slave trade.  We’ve all read about it, seen movies about it, but to actually see the tiny rooms that hundreds of stolen humans were stored in until they could be shipped…shocking and disheartening.  Humans…we suck!  How can people treat other people this way?  How can a king sell his people to other people for tobacco and fire arms? How can anyone feel that they can buy and sell other humans for a personal gain? It’s disgusting…and yet we still do it.  Sex trafficking and forced labor are alive and well all over the world.  There is still genocide and mass raping all over the world.  These great injustices are happening right now, and most of us have no idea about it or just shut our eyes and ears to it.  What else can we do?  I don’t have the answer…and being here has made realize just how naïve my thoughts of development and change really are…yes one person can make a difference, but human beings are just shitty creatures that will continue to be shitty until the end of time…

Sorry for the diatribe, back to the fun stuff.    We traveled around and then came back to the village.  The chief and elders poured libations and gave a brief history of our community to KM and Sheldon.  The school kids put on cultural drumming and dancing for us and we danced for them (we had this whole plan of playing a bunch of American music and doing a bunch of different dances, but my ipod speakers wouldn’t play the music loud enough, so we ended up doing the electric slide to the beat of the drums…the villagers enjoyed it, but it would have been so much better if we could have busted out some Michael Franti to shake it to!) It was nice to have “my people” see my life here.  It was a brief glimpse of just the surface stuff, but it was special all the same.  It made me miss my life in America even more.  It made me realize how I’ve changed in the last 11 months; both good and bad.  It was enlightening to see Ghana through the eyes of visitors…for I’m not a visitor…I’m not a native, I’m somewhere in between.  I’ve been here long enough that life is mundane and Ghana has lost its mystic charm; like when you go to visit a friend and see the beautiful ocean out their window and think how that if you lived there you’d go swimming in the sea everyday and just take long walks on the beach to bring you peace…but your friend who lives there spends their time doing laundry and grocery shopping just like you do at home.  I’ve been here long enough that it’s lost its exoticness, its simple charm…now I just get pissed off at people yevuing me all the time.  It was hard to see; hard to see that I don’t greet people with smiles anymore because if I appear too friendly I will be promptly fucked with and I don’t have patience for it anymore.  It was hard to see. It was even harder to see the look of disgust? surprise? disappointment?  in my friends’ eyes when they saw me act like this.  I had that same look when I first came to country and saw the interactions between Ghanaians and current PCV’s.  It’s left me in a funk that I’m still trying to sort myself out of.

I’ve been here for almost one year…I can’t believe it!  We are getting ready for the new group of volunteers to come.  They ask us to write a welcome letter to them; they also spell out that we need to keep it upbeat and not write our letter on a day that’s been particularly hard…proof in the pudding that being a PCV has just as many downs as ups.  And as I sat and wrote my letter last night, I realize how much I love this place…this crazy, exhausting, infuriating, yet kind, interesting, heart-warming place.  When you talk to PCV’s we sound crazy. WE HATE IT, WE LOVE IT, WE HATE IT, WE LOVE IT…all in one day.  I was talking with a friend last week about serving here and how I’m really disappointed in my lack of language skills and therefore my lack of communication and deep relationships with the villagers.  I wanted to make Ghana my home and have a patchwork family just like I’ve developed in the different places that I’ve lived before. He started laughing and said he treats his time here as a job.  He is here to work for 2 years to better the lives of his villagers…he’s not here to make friends and this is definitely not his home.  We all have different goals and desires for our PC experience; none are right and none are wrong.  It’s just funny.  My friend Amy gave me a small piece of advice that I go back to a lot here, “Be kind to yourself.”  It’s not easy to do here as a volunteer.

Next….ITALY.  After some humongous bullshit and an extra $1000 I officially have my new ticket to Italy and will be leaving May 20^th for 2 weeks with my good buddy Leila…and wine and cheese!!  I’m hoping a 2 week leave from Ghana will help me get my head back in the game and come back rejuvenated and inspired for the last year (last year…crazy!!!) of my service.  I’ve also started on this idea of when I close my service I will housesit for a friend in England for a week and then we will all go to Ireland for my 30^th birthday…I’m thinking that sounds fantastic.  We’ll see how everything plays out.

Easter is a big deal here in Ghana.  So my friend Chris came to stay with me because my village hikes to our mountain on Easter Monday and we play games and have a picnic and stuff.  There was also a tourist who came Saturday, but all the guest rooms were full because of a wedding in the next village, so she stayed with us.  I had a full house on Easter Morning…it was nice!  We went to church for 3 hours on Sunday, did our dancing with the villagers and ate fufu with my supervisor’s family.  Monday morning we cooked spaghetti for the family (including the jankity local beef that stunk so bad we didn’t eat it, but cooked it for them…it made my pot stink!!!) and the youth were supposed to have a program at 8:30 am, and then we all would climb that mountain around 11.  Well the youth program didn’t start until 11:30 and lasted until 3.  No one went to the mountain.  The Togolese were on the mountain waiting for us and no one went…I was really disappointed.  I stayed in the village for Easter because Easter Monday was supposed to be so much fun and I wanted to share that with the village…but no go.  I could have been paragliding off a mountain in the Eastern region…which I will be doing next year…which means I will never get to spend Easter Monday on the mountain with the villagers…I was less than happy.

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon playing jacks with Rose using rocks…these are the things that make me love Ghana…well that and the fufu and the palm wine  :)

So here’s my post.  I apologize for the long absence, but I’ve been in funk and don’t want to write and sound all depressed…I’m still very happy here and wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else right now (except maybe Italy for an extra week or so :) ).  Hope you guys are doing well. Happy Easter!

Love,

j

Boss and Batik

My friend Boss died on Saturday.  It's very sad, but he has had a very sad life since his stroke in November.  We have taken the money we saved for a wheelchair and will use it for the funeral. The funeral is this Friday and Saturday :(

Below are photos of the batik that the Batik Youth Group has made so far.  My brother at the deaf school has bought it all for his kids to make purses and other products out of. Now I will take this money and some more of my own so we can go buy more fabric and dyes in the next couple weeks (Katie Mae and Sheldon, we'll probably have to pick supplies in Accra while you guys are here).

Things have been crazy busy and sad this week. I will miss Boss very much. He was a great friend to me here in the village and has done much for his community.  He was a great man with a big heart for all people.

j

This leaf stamp and the geometric stamp are the ones I drew and the kids at the deaf school carved for us. They did a great job!  I met the student carpenter who carved them...he's probably 16 years old.

Nice. I love this print too.

My fav.  I'll be buying 16 yards of this to send home for curtains!!!

So, now you can see what the batik group is doing. If you are interested in any of the prints email me at jeannar11@gmail.com.

love
j

Dramarama, yo!

March 7, 2011

Last Monday the Batik group was supposed to start working, but that morning I got a call from Fo Nicho saying that the Palm Oil Women’s group was pissed.  So I met with him and he said they do not want us using the palm oil shed, but he told them that NaNa approved it and so he sent them to him.  Fo Nicho and I went to meet with NaNa and he said the women were mad because the youth did not help them build the shed when they asked them to and that they did want them using it.  Also, that I have not been working with them.  So NaNa said we should find somewhere else to work.  I f’in lost it!  I started balling my eyes out because I was sooooo pissed.  That building has not been touched for over one year and now these old bitches (not all of them; only 2…you know, the 2 that are known for chopping the money) are raising a fuss because they see someone else trying to do something.  And that fact that NaNa just gave into them pissed me off beyond control.  So there I was crying and trying to argue at the chief’s palace…it’s NaNa, Fo Nicho and me.  They both looked completely uncomfortable and shocked at my reaction.  And I didn’t want to cry like some little baby, but as frustrating as it is living here, this group was actually getting somewhere and then SMACK…shut down…by some jealous, hateful old ladies.  I argued to NaNa that they are wasting that building and that if this community wants to develop they need to use me and listen and not do this petty bullshit.  So I tell him that I wanna meet with the women and we decided we’d meet the next day.  I went home to collect myself…the whole village heard about it by the time I went back to town later that day.  The old women were going around town talking shit that we’ve locked them out of their building…but anyone who has half a brain knows that they don’t use it and the chairwoman is completely shady.

So anyway, I was completely unhappy and really wondering what the f I’m doing here if nothing gets done…it was a really bad day.  So Fo Nicho and Esther felt sorry for me and cooked fufu and light soup because I like it.  I helped pound fufu for the first time…the 4 year old laughed at me the whole time…and the next day there was a funeral so the meeting was cancelled. Which is just as well because I woke up with a screaming case of diarrhea and spent the whole day laying on my floor w/ no electricity (NO FAN) and running to the bathroom.  I pooped my pants…and then had to hand wash them…2 days in a row of SHIT!!!

The week went on and we still didn’t get to meet because of funeral stuff.  By Thursday I was completely tired of the drama in the village, so I left with Aki after the Water Sachet Group and spent the night with her.  We did some business and took some of the batik headbands to one of the shops in HoHoe. Friday we ran around and she introduced me to some NGO’s she knows in HoHoe where I can advertise my village.  I then did some more running around and got a lady I know to start carrying our headbands in her shop too.  Then a bunch of PCV’s and a couple JICA people headed to Liate Wote to have a going away party for Aki.  Getting to Liate sucks (a PCV lives there).  We walked up to the station and they were not selling tickets yet, but there’s a ton of people waiting for the tro.  So all of a sudden there was a mad dash to the ticket booth and the tickets for the next tro sold out.  Dammit.  So we waited around and hoped there would be another tro at some point.  A while later another came and we got tickets after some finagling.  So we all crammed into this tro and there’s one extra woman outside bitching that she has a ticket and there is no where for her to sit.  So we all pulled out our tickets and were discussing it. After about 5 minutes the driver comes and checks everyone’s tickets.  One old man had got on the tro without a ticket and refused to get out.  The final solution, instead of throwing his old ass out (my personal preference), was sticking 2 guys on the roof.  After an hour on shitty roads we arrived.  We all cooked a bunch of food (guacamole, bean salad, sushi rice stuff from Japan, PCV ghetto pizza, and chocolate cake with fan ice!), had some beers, I was able to score Aki some Tequila (no small feat in Ghana…let me tell you…) so there were some shots involved, and we all just hung out and it was fun.  Early Saturday morning, Rhoda and I went to hike Mt. Afadjato, the highest mountain in Ghana, and the others hiked to the waterfall below.  It was around noon when we were done hiking and showering and just waiting on a tro to come.  We waited for over 4 hours!  No tro…all day; there were two funerals going on around her village and therefore the couple tros that usually come were filling up there and never making it to us!  So the JICA peops hopped motos (PCV’s arent’ allowed on them) and a couple PCV’s hopped rides with a bus full of kids from Accra that came to hike the mountain.  Rhoda and I decided to just stay because by the time we got back to HoHoe and then to our villages it would be past dark and we were both exhausted from our mountain hike and needed to go to the HoHoe market.  So us 3 ladies made spaghetti and got pretty schocked on boxed wine and had a very enjoyable evening talking on the porch.  No tro the next day either, but we were able to beg a ride pretty early in the morning.

So that was my weekend.  Today I met with the POW group at 6am with the chief, elders, and Fo Nicho.  They argued for a while and Fo Nicho was yelling at the chairwoman once…I’m pretty sure she was saying that I wasn’t working with them and he started yelling back that I tried to work with them and that she didn’t call them like she was supposed to…but whatever...it was all in Sekua.  The final outcome is we can use one room, but I need to start working with the Palm Oil Group again…that I need to push them…that’s what the women said.  I said that I’m not going to beg them to work, and that if I’m gonna work with the group then they will have to pick new officers and I will be in charge of the money since people have been stealing money.  So we’ll see…I’m hoping they just never organize and I don’t have to deal with their bullshit.  Confidence never showed up for the meeting even though I called her when I got there.  So after the meeting I went and yelled at her for being a coward and told her I was pissed that I was the only one there fighting and that she should have been there too.  She said she would have said mean things to them and so she did not come….well, my friend, I wasn’t really fond of it, but I sucked it up and did it and sometimes you have to do that kind of stuff if you want to achieve something.  So basically I went to fight old asshole women, and they bitched about everything in Sekua (well, Augusta, the chairwoman did all the talking) and pointed at ME a couple times…and no one would tell me what the hefer said!  I just got the final outcome in English and that’s it.  Tell me how f’n frustrating that is! But I decided f it! Just let it go.  I’ll go to the POW group one day next week to organize them and I’m quite sure they will fall off the wagon again and then I won’t have to deal with them….it’s just ridiculous!

The Batik group started working today.  We dyed and stamped 12 yards of fabric; they did well.

My life is weird; an emotional roller coaster of extreme highs and lows…all within days of each other…it’s exhausting.  3 weeks till Katie Mae and Sheldon come!  Yeah, normal people!!!  I really can’t wait!!!!!!

J