Hello,
I must preface this rant disguised as a blog with the statement that I really am having an amazing time here. I am leaving for a weekend long festival in Cape Coast, and will then be on my way to Kukum National Park to do the canopy walk. I succeeded in buying wheat bread and oatmeal today, and I really enjoyed my first Twi class today. Not all is lost. However, despite the good, today was one of the longest days of my life. It is only 7pm.
Soooo, one of the reasons it happened to be ridiculously long is that I woke up at 4:20 (in the morning) today. By choice. In an effort to get fit, hang out with new friends, and make more, I have decided to join the Volta Hall (my all girl dorm) cross country team. This week is training for all the Volta ladies teams, including table tennis. The training involves a 20 minute run and then some crunches, sit ups, and stretching. AT FOUR IN THE MORNING. After the workout, I was sweaty and awake, so after my shower I decided to do my laundry. At 6am. Ridiculous? Maybe. Because we will be in Cape Coast all weekend, I will miss my usual Sunday morning ritual of washing all the weeks clothes under the thinly veiled judgement of all the girls going to church. (They all get up at around 5 on Saturday morning to do their washing. No thanks.) So, I washed all my clothes, and then me and Elena went to breakfast, where I only had to wait about 5 minutes (instead of the usual 20) to get my oatmeal and coffee. I have realized that oatmeal is my only chance for fiber here, and I am willing to wait for my colon's health.
Moving on. After breakfast I went to my first Twi lesson. The class is special for the people in my group, and is held in our own special study center located at the top of campus. Today my orientation journal and my ridiculously brown-nosing essay on "What I Learned from Orientation" were due. Our orientation, which really was immensely helpful, has also succeeded in reducing the 60 of us college age men and women into children, not to mention has continually saddled us with innumerable spur of the moment meetings with a million random people, not to mention tons of ridiculous (Orientation journal?) homework. So, I go to my Twi class. This class is scheduled to be in two groupings. The first is Monday and Wednesday mornings at 9:30 and the second is Tuesdays at 11:30 and Thursdays at 9:30. I have a class during Mondays lessons, so the second option works better because I have my African Literature class from 8:30 to 11:30 on Tuesdays (no kidding. 3 hour lit class at 8:30. Gross) and no classes on Thursdays. So, I get to class and find out that not only am I REQUIRED to turn in my class schedule TODAY, before leaving for Cape Coast, but Twi has been moved to 9:30 on Tuesdays.
This is frustrating for several reasons. First, and more obvious, I have another class during the Tuesday lesson. And since I also have a class (African History to 1500) on Mondays, it is now apparent that I will be unable to take Twi. The more complicated, is that some of my professors have yet to show up for class. I am serious. Not to mention, the add/drop date is not until Sept. 7th, AND the exam schedule is still not posted. Let me clarify. I am required to turn in a paper that says, in finality, what classes I will be taking, and with who, when I have not even had some of my classes yet, and I don't know when any of my final exams are, so I am unaware as to whether the classes I have signed up for yet will be feasible when it comes to exam time. And then, to make everything just a little more complicated, they have changed the time of the class that I was working my entire schedule around. I hated everyone.
This is where the bureaucracy really kills me. I am suffering under the demands of this goddamn study center, who changes its mind all the time, and doesn't bother to tell me until the day before I have to drop something, or change something, and it is all because the study center that I am being screwed over by here in Ghana is being screwed over my all the different schools in the States that are making it turn in copies of our registration BEFORE THE ADD/DROP DATE OF THE SCHOOL. Is this ridiculous to anyone else????!!!!??? God.
Moving on, again. To make my frustration even more dense, I was also informed that I would have to do a presentation, complete with literary review, of my independent study project, next week. You may be wondering: "what is this special study project?" I will tell you. I am required to write a 30 page paper about a topic that I will individually research and execute, under the supervision of a campus Professor, who I must find. This project does nothing for any requirement at my school. I repeat: this 30 page paper, that I am required to spend AT LEAST 10 hours a week researching, DOES NOT FULFILL ANY REQUIREMENT AT SAN FRANCISCO STATE UNIVERSITY. Ahhhhhhhhhh! To make matters worse (yes, it gets worse) I had a project set up, and had found an advisor all on my own, but my ridiculous (and terrifying) orientation advisor woman who is in charge of all of us, told me I could not do my project, and gave me an entirely new one. Granted, her project is better that mine was. Unfortunately, I have to do EXTENSIVE background research, not to mention, find a new professor to advise me in a week. Oh yeah. I will be gone all weekend.
And, to top everything off, it starting pouring (we are talking torrential downpour here) in the middle of me crashing a new African History class that I am forced to take instead of African History to 1500, (as I must take Twi. Schedule completely fucked? yes.) so all my laundry, that I needed for the weekend will never dry in time. How are you expected to hang dry clothes during the rainy season??? How??!
In good news, I can hear again, I am finally done with my antibiotics, so I can actually eat without wanting to kill myself, and tomorrow is Elena's birthday, so its gonna be a 3 day party in Cape Coast. After today I really need it. I love you.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Maybe, baby.
Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.
Soooooo, since the Mountain Biking adventure much more, much less fun stuff has transpired. Basically, my left ear still doesn't work. However, that may not be the biggest of my health worries. On Monday I woke up feeling ridiculously lethargic and kind of dizzy. I soldiered through my morning, but by around 10am, my dizziness was getting worse and I had developed a fever. I made the command decision that maybe I should return to the hospital and find out what was going on. On the walk there, I started getting achy in my joints. You may not know it (as most of you reading this DO NOT live in Sub-Saharan Africa) but these are all symptoms of Malaria. I was a little freaked out, and feeling worse by the minute, so Elena escorted me to the hospital where it was complete and total chaos. I am talking lines and lines of people waiting for I-don't-know-what. I joined the line for registration thinking it would take at least 20 minutes to get through it. I was very, very wrong.
I have not yet explained the complete inability of Ghanaians to form a line. As an American, I thrive on order and form, and JUST DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW IT COULD POSSIBLY BE OKAY TO JUST JUMP TO THE FRONT OF A LINE WHENEVER YOU WANT TO. But here it is. It is okay for random people who do not want to wait to simply get in front of a service window and be helped. Immediately. It was ridiculous. I waited and was pushed to the back over and over and over for over an hour. I was near tears several times as I felt like I was about to faint, Elena had left me to go to a class, and I could neither understand the different conversations around me, nor could I hear any of the conversations in English because of my ear. If it hadn't been happening to me it would have been a situation worthy of a sitcom.
But...it was happening to me, and I wanted to shoot someone. Finally the 10 or so people who had shoved in front of me took pity on me and let me register, where I was given my patient card and sent to wait in a more orderly line to actually see a doctor. I waited here for 45 minutes, and finally got in to see the doctor. After I told her I had been in a few days before, she stopped listening to me explaining to her that I might be DYING of malaria in front of her, and told me I had to see my original doctor. Ahhhhhhhh! I completely lost it. Sobbing, I let the nurse take to to yet ANOTHER line, where she (thankfully) told the doctor that I needed to be the next patient inside.
Finally inside, I am pretty sure that my obviously emotional state made people take me a little less seriously when I started explaining my very real symptoms. However, the doctor did take my temperature, and was did look in my ear again, and at least concluded that I did have both a fever and an ear infection. He then explained to me that because I had been in Ghana almost a month, and was a foreigner, I had to be put on anti-malarial drugs. I then had to have my blood taken, and was told to come back on Tuesday to find out the results. After hearing how frustrated I was with the hospital system, the doctor, Dr. Bulcari, gave me his cell phone number to call if I needed help with anything saying: "I don't want you to be frustrated anymore." I hope he doesn't think I am a spoiled American...
Tuesday I returned to the hospital, where no one could find my patient card, and I was forced to sift through stacks of previous day's cards looking for it. (Seriously) Upon its continued failure to turn up, and my growing frustration (for lack of any other word to use) with the continued ridiculousness, I was finally given a new card. Then, I was told by the douche bag lab guy that I had to see my doctor before I could get my test results. So...I waited in line to see Dr. Bulcari for almost 2 hours, and when finally getting inside I was told to wait longer while my doctor went to yell at the lab guy for not giving me my lab results. Christ. My test was negative. However, only 10% of people with Malaria actually test positive for it...so...
On the bright side I have been feeling much better since taking the huge amounts of medication I was prescribed. Unfortunately, they also make me VERY drowsy and nauseous...so that sucks. However, since none of my classes have actually been attended by those teaching (yes, none of my professors have shown up to class yet...) including my 7:30 am Political Science class...I have had ample time to recover.
In some miscellaneous news, I took my first bucket shower today. The water stopped running around 7pm last night, and has yet to come back on. I doubt I did it right, apparently there is a type of method for bucket showering...I just sort of threw water around...oh well. I hope your health is less sporadic than mine has been lately. I love you.
Soooooo, since the Mountain Biking adventure much more, much less fun stuff has transpired. Basically, my left ear still doesn't work. However, that may not be the biggest of my health worries. On Monday I woke up feeling ridiculously lethargic and kind of dizzy. I soldiered through my morning, but by around 10am, my dizziness was getting worse and I had developed a fever. I made the command decision that maybe I should return to the hospital and find out what was going on. On the walk there, I started getting achy in my joints. You may not know it (as most of you reading this DO NOT live in Sub-Saharan Africa) but these are all symptoms of Malaria. I was a little freaked out, and feeling worse by the minute, so Elena escorted me to the hospital where it was complete and total chaos. I am talking lines and lines of people waiting for I-don't-know-what. I joined the line for registration thinking it would take at least 20 minutes to get through it. I was very, very wrong.
I have not yet explained the complete inability of Ghanaians to form a line. As an American, I thrive on order and form, and JUST DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW IT COULD POSSIBLY BE OKAY TO JUST JUMP TO THE FRONT OF A LINE WHENEVER YOU WANT TO. But here it is. It is okay for random people who do not want to wait to simply get in front of a service window and be helped. Immediately. It was ridiculous. I waited and was pushed to the back over and over and over for over an hour. I was near tears several times as I felt like I was about to faint, Elena had left me to go to a class, and I could neither understand the different conversations around me, nor could I hear any of the conversations in English because of my ear. If it hadn't been happening to me it would have been a situation worthy of a sitcom.
But...it was happening to me, and I wanted to shoot someone. Finally the 10 or so people who had shoved in front of me took pity on me and let me register, where I was given my patient card and sent to wait in a more orderly line to actually see a doctor. I waited here for 45 minutes, and finally got in to see the doctor. After I told her I had been in a few days before, she stopped listening to me explaining to her that I might be DYING of malaria in front of her, and told me I had to see my original doctor. Ahhhhhhhh! I completely lost it. Sobbing, I let the nurse take to to yet ANOTHER line, where she (thankfully) told the doctor that I needed to be the next patient inside.
Finally inside, I am pretty sure that my obviously emotional state made people take me a little less seriously when I started explaining my very real symptoms. However, the doctor did take my temperature, and was did look in my ear again, and at least concluded that I did have both a fever and an ear infection. He then explained to me that because I had been in Ghana almost a month, and was a foreigner, I had to be put on anti-malarial drugs. I then had to have my blood taken, and was told to come back on Tuesday to find out the results. After hearing how frustrated I was with the hospital system, the doctor, Dr. Bulcari, gave me his cell phone number to call if I needed help with anything saying: "I don't want you to be frustrated anymore." I hope he doesn't think I am a spoiled American...
Tuesday I returned to the hospital, where no one could find my patient card, and I was forced to sift through stacks of previous day's cards looking for it. (Seriously) Upon its continued failure to turn up, and my growing frustration (for lack of any other word to use) with the continued ridiculousness, I was finally given a new card. Then, I was told by the douche bag lab guy that I had to see my doctor before I could get my test results. So...I waited in line to see Dr. Bulcari for almost 2 hours, and when finally getting inside I was told to wait longer while my doctor went to yell at the lab guy for not giving me my lab results. Christ. My test was negative. However, only 10% of people with Malaria actually test positive for it...so...
On the bright side I have been feeling much better since taking the huge amounts of medication I was prescribed. Unfortunately, they also make me VERY drowsy and nauseous...so that sucks. However, since none of my classes have actually been attended by those teaching (yes, none of my professors have shown up to class yet...) including my 7:30 am Political Science class...I have had ample time to recover.
In some miscellaneous news, I took my first bucket shower today. The water stopped running around 7pm last night, and has yet to come back on. I doubt I did it right, apparently there is a type of method for bucket showering...I just sort of threw water around...oh well. I hope your health is less sporadic than mine has been lately. I love you.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
My left ear
Hello again,
So in the few days since my last blog, a lot has happened. Among the more boring, I successfully registered for way more classes than I actually am allowed to take, because I have NO IDEA when the hell these classes are offered. I do need to add here, that if I can't take the classes I need...I might never graduate. EVER. hmmmmm
In the more interesting, and much more ridiculous, I woke up on Wednesday feeling like my left ear was full of water, and finding it very difficult to hear out of it. Eventually, the clogged feeling subsided, and I felt fine. That same evening, Elena and I met 8 of our new neighbors. They are all "freshers" and have just completed secondary school. I don't remember all their names...but some were: Debbie, Sylvia, Rose, Emanuela, and a set of twins who said we could call them "P" and "K."I have recently put up some pictures in my room, and among the various things I had, my "George Bush's dumb-ass head on a string" air freshener was taped to the wall. This inspired much discussion, and our neighbors were incredibly curious about why, if we hated our president, had we voted for him. We tried to explain that we hadn't, and they countered with the fact that the majority of our nation had. We attempted to explain that a small portion of people in the US actually vote at all, but it became pretty garbled in socio-economic stuff. At the very least, they think we are: A.) interesting. B.) heathens. C.) going to hell. The answer is C. And it was confirmed when we were invited to a youth group function scheduled for Saturday morning. We had to decline, we had an international student orientation to go to.
Thursday morning I woke up without the ability to hear out of my left ear at all. I had a jogging date planned with my neighbor Sylvia, but decided to cancel, as I felt my ear trouble somewhat serious. Elena, who has had a lot of ear trouble in her life suggested olive oil to break up the fatty lipids (mucus) in my ear. We tried it, twice, with no success other than me being completely embarrassed to be seen by the unusually large amount of visitors who came to our room to see me with cotton balls in my ears. I then tried a decongestant...with no success. In desperation (after the refusal of the Pharmacy guy to sell my ear drops) I tried Hydrogen Peroxide. No luck.
I was pretty frustrated with my ear ridiculousness...but did not let it stop me from going Mountain biking on Friday. Me, Elena, Megan, and Becky went to Aburi, a small town about 40 minutes from Legon and rented bikes to take a tour of these amazing botanical gardens. We decided to take the easiest tour (since none of us have mountain biking experience) but also decided not to take a guide. After a few wrong turns which incredibly nice townspeople helped us out of, we were on the right trail. We were zooming through this incredibly beautiful area, huge palm trees everywhere, a pond to our right, a stream just ahead, and then I crashed in a corn field. No joke. The trails were very narrow, and pretty rocky in some places and if you swerved in one direction you were bound to swerve in the other. My crash was not the last (for me or anyone else) of the day. I succeeded in crashing in random fields at least 3 more times. But the prize for crashing goes to Elena. This girl started the day face-planting in dirt, and ended it by launching herself into a palm tree where she received some pretty deep lacerations on her right arm and all over her breasts where a branch punctured through her shirt and did its damage.
Along the way we took a wrong turn and ended up going about an hour the wrong direction--through a corn field--until we finally turned around, found our mistake, and got back on the correct trail. During this, we were trying so hard to navigate what we were trying to believe was a bike trail, resulting, not only in a multitude of crashes and falling off bikes, but also in me treading through an ants nest and looking down to find at least 20 biting my leg and wriggling into my sock. Momentary freak-out ensued. In the end, this 1.5-2 hour trail took us 4.5 hour to complete. Not to mention none us had eaten for about 8 hours at this point, and we had probably burned through about 1500 calories. In short we were exhausted. On the way home, we stopped at a Shell station (the first I've seen here) and each spent at least 5 cedis on complete, wonderful, crap (Mars bars, chocolate croissants, ice cream, Pringles, candy coated peanuts, and a lot of water too.)
When we returned to campus we went to the hospital, to get Elena's wounds cleaned--she still had quite a bit of tree stuck in her various cuts--and to get my ears looked at, as my left was useless, and my right starting to throb. After a 3 hour wait, Elena was cleaned and given pain killers, and I was told the unnatural amount of "fluid" in my left ear was the result of allergies, and the throbbing in my right the result of over-excited Q-tipping. Ooops. I now have antibiotics and allergy medicine, so if I still can't hear in 3 days, I guess I should be worried.
It probably seems like the biking adventure was not fun. Quite the contrary. In the midst of the falling, the ants, and the impalements, we were laughing the whole time. Even though I am SUPER bad at it, Mountain Biking is SO fun. I am definitely going back soon, and its something I think I could really enjoy in the states. This was my first, true, African adventure. I plan on having many more. I love you.
So in the few days since my last blog, a lot has happened. Among the more boring, I successfully registered for way more classes than I actually am allowed to take, because I have NO IDEA when the hell these classes are offered. I do need to add here, that if I can't take the classes I need...I might never graduate. EVER. hmmmmm
In the more interesting, and much more ridiculous, I woke up on Wednesday feeling like my left ear was full of water, and finding it very difficult to hear out of it. Eventually, the clogged feeling subsided, and I felt fine. That same evening, Elena and I met 8 of our new neighbors. They are all "freshers" and have just completed secondary school. I don't remember all their names...but some were: Debbie, Sylvia, Rose, Emanuela, and a set of twins who said we could call them "P" and "K."I have recently put up some pictures in my room, and among the various things I had, my "George Bush's dumb-ass head on a string" air freshener was taped to the wall. This inspired much discussion, and our neighbors were incredibly curious about why, if we hated our president, had we voted for him. We tried to explain that we hadn't, and they countered with the fact that the majority of our nation had. We attempted to explain that a small portion of people in the US actually vote at all, but it became pretty garbled in socio-economic stuff. At the very least, they think we are: A.) interesting. B.) heathens. C.) going to hell. The answer is C. And it was confirmed when we were invited to a youth group function scheduled for Saturday morning. We had to decline, we had an international student orientation to go to.
Thursday morning I woke up without the ability to hear out of my left ear at all. I had a jogging date planned with my neighbor Sylvia, but decided to cancel, as I felt my ear trouble somewhat serious. Elena, who has had a lot of ear trouble in her life suggested olive oil to break up the fatty lipids (mucus) in my ear. We tried it, twice, with no success other than me being completely embarrassed to be seen by the unusually large amount of visitors who came to our room to see me with cotton balls in my ears. I then tried a decongestant...with no success. In desperation (after the refusal of the Pharmacy guy to sell my ear drops) I tried Hydrogen Peroxide. No luck.
I was pretty frustrated with my ear ridiculousness...but did not let it stop me from going Mountain biking on Friday. Me, Elena, Megan, and Becky went to Aburi, a small town about 40 minutes from Legon and rented bikes to take a tour of these amazing botanical gardens. We decided to take the easiest tour (since none of us have mountain biking experience) but also decided not to take a guide. After a few wrong turns which incredibly nice townspeople helped us out of, we were on the right trail. We were zooming through this incredibly beautiful area, huge palm trees everywhere, a pond to our right, a stream just ahead, and then I crashed in a corn field. No joke. The trails were very narrow, and pretty rocky in some places and if you swerved in one direction you were bound to swerve in the other. My crash was not the last (for me or anyone else) of the day. I succeeded in crashing in random fields at least 3 more times. But the prize for crashing goes to Elena. This girl started the day face-planting in dirt, and ended it by launching herself into a palm tree where she received some pretty deep lacerations on her right arm and all over her breasts where a branch punctured through her shirt and did its damage.
Along the way we took a wrong turn and ended up going about an hour the wrong direction--through a corn field--until we finally turned around, found our mistake, and got back on the correct trail. During this, we were trying so hard to navigate what we were trying to believe was a bike trail, resulting, not only in a multitude of crashes and falling off bikes, but also in me treading through an ants nest and looking down to find at least 20 biting my leg and wriggling into my sock. Momentary freak-out ensued. In the end, this 1.5-2 hour trail took us 4.5 hour to complete. Not to mention none us had eaten for about 8 hours at this point, and we had probably burned through about 1500 calories. In short we were exhausted. On the way home, we stopped at a Shell station (the first I've seen here) and each spent at least 5 cedis on complete, wonderful, crap (Mars bars, chocolate croissants, ice cream, Pringles, candy coated peanuts, and a lot of water too.)
When we returned to campus we went to the hospital, to get Elena's wounds cleaned--she still had quite a bit of tree stuck in her various cuts--and to get my ears looked at, as my left was useless, and my right starting to throb. After a 3 hour wait, Elena was cleaned and given pain killers, and I was told the unnatural amount of "fluid" in my left ear was the result of allergies, and the throbbing in my right the result of over-excited Q-tipping. Ooops. I now have antibiotics and allergy medicine, so if I still can't hear in 3 days, I guess I should be worried.
It probably seems like the biking adventure was not fun. Quite the contrary. In the midst of the falling, the ants, and the impalements, we were laughing the whole time. Even though I am SUPER bad at it, Mountain Biking is SO fun. I am definitely going back soon, and its something I think I could really enjoy in the states. This was my first, true, African adventure. I plan on having many more. I love you.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Seriously Ridiculous
Hello hello.
So since the Slave Castle drain, its been pretty slow-going around here. The big news is that I have an incredibly bad sunburn. Shocking I know. Since this is maybe the 600th really bad sunburn I have received in my nearly 22 years, I guess it isn't that exciting. I guess the story behind the sunburn is better.
While the majority of the California students were out adventuring Ghana, Elena and I decided to explore Accra, the capital and nearest city to the small Legon, where the University is located. I know I have briefly explained tro-tros, however, I don't think I explained the ridiculousness involved. Tro-tros are the main form of public transit here, and they run like busses, with designated stops, and go to different areas of Accra/Ghana. These large mini-vans are operated by a driver and his "mate" who leans out the window of said vehicle calling out the destination. Unfortunatley, Ghanian English is like another language, so I have some trouble understanding what the hell is being said most of the time. For instance, a tro-tro going into downtown Accra to the main markets simply yells out "Accra" but in Ghanain English it is pronounced "Ack-craw" which is easy enough, but shouted over and over it sounds like "craw, craw, craw." The other major destination is Nhekruma Circle, which is like a turnaround, or station for many tro-tros. It is simply known as "Circle" and so the tro-tro mate yells out what sounds like "sek, sek, sek" which literally took me a week to figure out. After someone took mercy on me and explained it. So....this said, Elena and I decided that figuring out the tro-tro ridiculousness needed to be done before Canopy Walks or seeing Monkeys.
We jumped on a car going to "Circle" and found ourselves about an hour later the new friends of two Ghanaian men. The guy following me around offered to take me to Singapore. About 6 times. We escaped by jumping on a new tro-tro to Accra, which let us off at a very pungently smelling market, which we thought was near a vegetarian restaurant we wanted to try. We started walking through the market, bought bags of water (pure water is sold in plastic bags here for about 4 cents) and assumed we were going in the right direction. We were not. After 20 minutes of walking around in the burning sun we found ourselves at the ocean, and Ussher Town, (home of more historical forts) which under different circumstances we would have found interesting as anything. Unfortunately, we were hot, hungry, and starting to realize we had not applied sunscreen. We decided to take a cab, but in total ridiculousness, every cab that drove by was full. If you had any idea the amount of harrassment we endure EVERY DAY from cab drivers trying to take us places, the irony would be much more apparent. Eventually after walking into some random construction site, we flagged down a cab, which took us to the sight of the restaurant. Or so the cabbie thought. We then wandered around in the baking sun until some poor man took pity on us and practically escorted us to the restaurant. Luckily for us, it was delicious. What was NOT delicious was the dawning realization that the sun had successfully removed much or out epidermuses. Ouch. We decided to head home, which of course included more aimless wandering in the direction of some other "circle" and then a 30 minute tro-tro ride back to campus.
Upon return we surveyed the blistering...which is contained to my shoulders, Elena's shoulders and back suffered more than I did. However, in a lucky twist of fate, we hade puschased Cocoa Butter just that afternoon, which may have been the best spent $2.50 spent thus far.
Today was the beginning of registration for classes. If I had only unlimited money to buy unlimited minutes at unlimited internet cafes so I could relay the ridiculousness. Jeeeeeeez. I can sum it up mostly by saying I was expected to (and did, FYI) sign up for all my classes today, which are in 4 different departments without the slightest idea when the hell these classes might actually be offered during the week. I am talking about how I don't know the day, the time, the frequency during the week, anything. Good thing class starts in a week. Because that's apparently enough time to figure it all out. Seriously, everyone in the whole world who gets to register for online is insanely spoiled. In-SANE-ly. I will never be ungrateful ever again. This week. I love you.
So since the Slave Castle drain, its been pretty slow-going around here. The big news is that I have an incredibly bad sunburn. Shocking I know. Since this is maybe the 600th really bad sunburn I have received in my nearly 22 years, I guess it isn't that exciting. I guess the story behind the sunburn is better.
While the majority of the California students were out adventuring Ghana, Elena and I decided to explore Accra, the capital and nearest city to the small Legon, where the University is located. I know I have briefly explained tro-tros, however, I don't think I explained the ridiculousness involved. Tro-tros are the main form of public transit here, and they run like busses, with designated stops, and go to different areas of Accra/Ghana. These large mini-vans are operated by a driver and his "mate" who leans out the window of said vehicle calling out the destination. Unfortunatley, Ghanian English is like another language, so I have some trouble understanding what the hell is being said most of the time. For instance, a tro-tro going into downtown Accra to the main markets simply yells out "Accra" but in Ghanain English it is pronounced "Ack-craw" which is easy enough, but shouted over and over it sounds like "craw, craw, craw." The other major destination is Nhekruma Circle, which is like a turnaround, or station for many tro-tros. It is simply known as "Circle" and so the tro-tro mate yells out what sounds like "sek, sek, sek" which literally took me a week to figure out. After someone took mercy on me and explained it. So....this said, Elena and I decided that figuring out the tro-tro ridiculousness needed to be done before Canopy Walks or seeing Monkeys.
We jumped on a car going to "Circle" and found ourselves about an hour later the new friends of two Ghanaian men. The guy following me around offered to take me to Singapore. About 6 times. We escaped by jumping on a new tro-tro to Accra, which let us off at a very pungently smelling market, which we thought was near a vegetarian restaurant we wanted to try. We started walking through the market, bought bags of water (pure water is sold in plastic bags here for about 4 cents) and assumed we were going in the right direction. We were not. After 20 minutes of walking around in the burning sun we found ourselves at the ocean, and Ussher Town, (home of more historical forts) which under different circumstances we would have found interesting as anything. Unfortunately, we were hot, hungry, and starting to realize we had not applied sunscreen. We decided to take a cab, but in total ridiculousness, every cab that drove by was full. If you had any idea the amount of harrassment we endure EVERY DAY from cab drivers trying to take us places, the irony would be much more apparent. Eventually after walking into some random construction site, we flagged down a cab, which took us to the sight of the restaurant. Or so the cabbie thought. We then wandered around in the baking sun until some poor man took pity on us and practically escorted us to the restaurant. Luckily for us, it was delicious. What was NOT delicious was the dawning realization that the sun had successfully removed much or out epidermuses. Ouch. We decided to head home, which of course included more aimless wandering in the direction of some other "circle" and then a 30 minute tro-tro ride back to campus.
Upon return we surveyed the blistering...which is contained to my shoulders, Elena's shoulders and back suffered more than I did. However, in a lucky twist of fate, we hade puschased Cocoa Butter just that afternoon, which may have been the best spent $2.50 spent thus far.
Today was the beginning of registration for classes. If I had only unlimited money to buy unlimited minutes at unlimited internet cafes so I could relay the ridiculousness. Jeeeeeeez. I can sum it up mostly by saying I was expected to (and did, FYI) sign up for all my classes today, which are in 4 different departments without the slightest idea when the hell these classes might actually be offered during the week. I am talking about how I don't know the day, the time, the frequency during the week, anything. Good thing class starts in a week. Because that's apparently enough time to figure it all out. Seriously, everyone in the whole world who gets to register for online is insanely spoiled. In-SANE-ly. I will never be ungrateful ever again. This week. I love you.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Tough Day
This is a somewhat graphic blog retelling some of the horrors I learned of when visiting the preserved Slave Castles yesterday...if you are faint of heart don't read. <3
So today is Friday, the first of 3 free days we have been given from orientation ridiculousness. The original plan was for me, Elena, Megan and Becky to go to Kukum National Park, but we were informed that our whole group would be going there at the end of August and we have already paid for it...so we decided not to go.
Yesterday, was by far the toughest day we have faced in Ghana. The whole group of us (58!) went to Cape Coast to visit the Slave Castles there. It was one of the most emotionally draining experiences of my life. We first visited Cape Coast Castle. Our tour guide took us around, starting in what used to be the Male Slave Dungeons. It was so insane. Literally hundreds of men at a time were shoved into these small limestone rooms, only3 little openings to give any light at all. They were only allowed to leave and see sunlight for a few hours a day. Then we visited the female dungeons. This was terrible. These poor women were forced to stay in this underground hell where no wind or light reaches, unable to bathe, bleeding on themselves during their periods, no privacy whatsoever. The only opportunity they had to see the outside was when they were dragged out with only a loincloth around their waists, for the governor of the castle to decide which one he wanted to rape. That woman was allowed to bathe before she was violently assaulted.
The second castle was the Elmina Slave Castle. It is 525 years old and marks the first spot Europeans (Portugese) landed on African soil. Yeeesh. Anyway, the most gripping part of this tour was when we all crammed into the cell reserved for slaves who resisted capture, or rebelled against the Europeans in the dungeons. This cell was usually filled 30 at a time (it was big enough for 30 people with standing room only) the persons inside were not given any food or water, and there were no windows whatsoever to allow sun or air. These people were kept in there altogether until they all died. I almost vomited hearing this story.
After all of this we had a pretty somber bus ride home. I hate so much that these acts of hatred have created a world in which Africa is at the bottom of the world economically, many African Americans are living in poverty, and racism still exists in so many different forms. I hate that I am part of a system that guarantees I will benefit, because I am white, but guarantees that others who are not, won't. The stories about the women's exploitation were by far the worst. I don't understand that kind of greed and hate and violence. The whole time we were in both castles all I wanted to do was leave...but I knew that it was important that I stay and understand that this is a real part of the world's history, and a part of mine as well.
In some sort of bizarre coping method, I found myself missing stupid things that I won't get a chance to do for a long time. Like watching The Office. I miss burritos and pancakes and strawberries. I miss wearing jeans and feeling comfortable. I all of a sudden wanted to watch The American President so much. I haven't seen that movie in about 3 years. I think I miss things being easy...because things are pretty hard here sometimes. I know why I am here though. I want to be better than those who can hurt others the way African Slaves were. I want to educate people about ways they hurt each other without realizing. I am here to learn, and while it hurts a little I know I am getting stronger.
I hope this sad blog finds you well. I love you.
So today is Friday, the first of 3 free days we have been given from orientation ridiculousness. The original plan was for me, Elena, Megan and Becky to go to Kukum National Park, but we were informed that our whole group would be going there at the end of August and we have already paid for it...so we decided not to go.
Yesterday, was by far the toughest day we have faced in Ghana. The whole group of us (58!) went to Cape Coast to visit the Slave Castles there. It was one of the most emotionally draining experiences of my life. We first visited Cape Coast Castle. Our tour guide took us around, starting in what used to be the Male Slave Dungeons. It was so insane. Literally hundreds of men at a time were shoved into these small limestone rooms, only3 little openings to give any light at all. They were only allowed to leave and see sunlight for a few hours a day. Then we visited the female dungeons. This was terrible. These poor women were forced to stay in this underground hell where no wind or light reaches, unable to bathe, bleeding on themselves during their periods, no privacy whatsoever. The only opportunity they had to see the outside was when they were dragged out with only a loincloth around their waists, for the governor of the castle to decide which one he wanted to rape. That woman was allowed to bathe before she was violently assaulted.
The second castle was the Elmina Slave Castle. It is 525 years old and marks the first spot Europeans (Portugese) landed on African soil. Yeeesh. Anyway, the most gripping part of this tour was when we all crammed into the cell reserved for slaves who resisted capture, or rebelled against the Europeans in the dungeons. This cell was usually filled 30 at a time (it was big enough for 30 people with standing room only) the persons inside were not given any food or water, and there were no windows whatsoever to allow sun or air. These people were kept in there altogether until they all died. I almost vomited hearing this story.
After all of this we had a pretty somber bus ride home. I hate so much that these acts of hatred have created a world in which Africa is at the bottom of the world economically, many African Americans are living in poverty, and racism still exists in so many different forms. I hate that I am part of a system that guarantees I will benefit, because I am white, but guarantees that others who are not, won't. The stories about the women's exploitation were by far the worst. I don't understand that kind of greed and hate and violence. The whole time we were in both castles all I wanted to do was leave...but I knew that it was important that I stay and understand that this is a real part of the world's history, and a part of mine as well.
In some sort of bizarre coping method, I found myself missing stupid things that I won't get a chance to do for a long time. Like watching The Office. I miss burritos and pancakes and strawberries. I miss wearing jeans and feeling comfortable. I all of a sudden wanted to watch The American President so much. I haven't seen that movie in about 3 years. I think I miss things being easy...because things are pretty hard here sometimes. I know why I am here though. I want to be better than those who can hurt others the way African Slaves were. I want to educate people about ways they hurt each other without realizing. I am here to learn, and while it hurts a little I know I am getting stronger.
I hope this sad blog finds you well. I love you.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Kumasi and such
Hello again! After a somewhat long hiatus I am back to relay my adventures in Kumasi. Kumasi is located in the central part of Ghana and is known as the cultural center of the country. After a 6 hour incredibly uncomfortable bus ride we arrived at KNUST University, where 4 of the students in my group will be attending school at the end of the month. (They are participating in the orientation in Legon, though) The campus is beautiful and the dorms are amazing. Compared to the small and somewhat crowded rooms in Volta Hall where I live and take communal showers and share 3 toilets with many people on my floor, in Kumasi, the dorms have bigger beds and desks, and have private bathrooms with split toilet and shower. However, in defense of the place I will call home for the next 10 months, I must say I prefer the communal showers where water pours from the tap like a hose to the private and better pressurized water in Kumasi. The simple reason is this: no matter how fancy the shower or private the water, there is no hot water in Ghana. Period. And because of this, a shower that covers more area at a time--such as the pressurized shower headed ones I used in Kumasi-- provides for more breath caught in your throat, wanting to scream, trying to dance the goosebumps away, clenching your teeth as you try and shave your legs-ness than does one with a simple and constant stream falling a close distance from you if needed.
Moving on. After our arrival we set out to find food. However, it is not some cheap trick to find a restaurant in Ghana prepared to feed 65 people with no sort of notice. This resulted in much adventure around Kumasi looking for any type of food, from fancy hotel food, to roadside grub. Eventually out of apathy and a feeling of lingering full-ness from lunch, I decided that dinner would be unnecessary. We eventually ended up all back a this really cute outdoor restaurant that sold beer and had plenty of room for dancing. We stayed, almost all 65 of us dancing and drinking until midnight. It was great.
The next day, Sunday, we visited many of the craft villages in the area. We watched people making Kente cloth (beautiful, and VERY expensive) we saw this traditional printing done on Kente with an ink made of tree bark, and we visited many shops full of jewelry, carvings, and paintings. I bought a few things for myself as well as a few gifts.
Later, we met the Treasurer of the Asante Kingdom. Its tough to explain, but basically, when what we now call Ghana was carved out artificially by the British, it forced together many different ethnic groups under one nation state. Many people hold their first allegiance to the King of their ethnic tribe. The Asante tribe is the biggest and most powerful in Ghana. So, basically, the Asante King is the most powerful man in Ghana, more so than the president, John Kufour. Anyway, we met his treasurer, which is like Condoleeza Rice coming to talk randomly to a bunch of kids who don't really understand what she does. Super crazy.
Today, Elena and I went to the market to buy a bunch of stuff we needed, and ended up buying a bunch of stuff we wanted, like necklaces. However, I did finally succeed in buying a phone. The phone I brought with me couldn't be used because it needed a SIM (sp?) card, and was not set up to use one. So I had to buy one and it is now officially charging. I haven't gotten a chance to talk to my family or anyone I love yet, so I am super excited.
Tomorrow we are moving into our new room, Elena and I will still be roommates, which I am excited about. Then, we have a conference on the slave trade. On Thursday we will be going to Cape Coast to visit the old Slave Castles. Ghana has some of the best preserved slave forts in Africa. Which is super interesting from a historical perspective, but kinda scary from a human perspective. After that, Elena, me, and our friends Becky and Megan are going to stay overnight in Cape Coast and then spend 2 days at Kukum National Park, famous for its one-of-a-kind canopy walk through the rainforest. I can't wait. Hopefully I'll be talking to you soon! I love you.
Moving on. After our arrival we set out to find food. However, it is not some cheap trick to find a restaurant in Ghana prepared to feed 65 people with no sort of notice. This resulted in much adventure around Kumasi looking for any type of food, from fancy hotel food, to roadside grub. Eventually out of apathy and a feeling of lingering full-ness from lunch, I decided that dinner would be unnecessary. We eventually ended up all back a this really cute outdoor restaurant that sold beer and had plenty of room for dancing. We stayed, almost all 65 of us dancing and drinking until midnight. It was great.
The next day, Sunday, we visited many of the craft villages in the area. We watched people making Kente cloth (beautiful, and VERY expensive) we saw this traditional printing done on Kente with an ink made of tree bark, and we visited many shops full of jewelry, carvings, and paintings. I bought a few things for myself as well as a few gifts.
Later, we met the Treasurer of the Asante Kingdom. Its tough to explain, but basically, when what we now call Ghana was carved out artificially by the British, it forced together many different ethnic groups under one nation state. Many people hold their first allegiance to the King of their ethnic tribe. The Asante tribe is the biggest and most powerful in Ghana. So, basically, the Asante King is the most powerful man in Ghana, more so than the president, John Kufour. Anyway, we met his treasurer, which is like Condoleeza Rice coming to talk randomly to a bunch of kids who don't really understand what she does. Super crazy.
Today, Elena and I went to the market to buy a bunch of stuff we needed, and ended up buying a bunch of stuff we wanted, like necklaces. However, I did finally succeed in buying a phone. The phone I brought with me couldn't be used because it needed a SIM (sp?) card, and was not set up to use one. So I had to buy one and it is now officially charging. I haven't gotten a chance to talk to my family or anyone I love yet, so I am super excited.
Tomorrow we are moving into our new room, Elena and I will still be roommates, which I am excited about. Then, we have a conference on the slave trade. On Thursday we will be going to Cape Coast to visit the old Slave Castles. Ghana has some of the best preserved slave forts in Africa. Which is super interesting from a historical perspective, but kinda scary from a human perspective. After that, Elena, me, and our friends Becky and Megan are going to stay overnight in Cape Coast and then spend 2 days at Kukum National Park, famous for its one-of-a-kind canopy walk through the rainforest. I can't wait. Hopefully I'll be talking to you soon! I love you.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
One Week
Today is the official 1 week anniversary of my time in Ghana. As I mentioned before, it seems like so much longer. My roommate and I figured out that we have been living 16 hour days since we've been here, which does not include any after hour gossiping or messing around or going out. This means our orientation is SCHEDULED to have back to back activity, 16 hours a day. Needless to say, I am exhausted. This is a syndrome made worse by the fact that I attended a reggae festival on the beach last night with almost my entire group of travelers. (60 college students!) There was something absolutely un-pass-upable about dancing with a beer in hand on a beach in Africa. Seriously. It was so much fun. I came prepared with my dancing skirt, 5 cedis ($5) hidden in my bra (petty crime like robbery is an issue here, especially among female albrunis (white people) like myself), and a smile. That was all I needed.
The 50 or so of us boarded 2 tro-tros, which are basically glorified mini-vans, which fit around 20 or so people and run all over the country. They are extrememly dangerous on highways and going long distances quickly, but within cities, like Legon or Accra, the cities I occupy, they are unable to travel at dangerous speeds. We paid 15 pesawas (15 cents) each and were on our way. The festival was very laid back, we bought cheap beer and danced on the beach, and were periodically harrassed by Ghanaian men claiming love and affection. My favorite potential suitor was the one who actually rapped a song at me for about 5 minutes talking about how I was a gift from god for him. I was amused, then supremely uncomfortable, then I ran away to another group I knew.
Today Elena (my roommate), and our friends Bridget, Elliott, and Angelie (sp?) took a tro-tro to Medina, an outdoor market where I purchased BEAUTIFUL fabric to make 2 skirts and a shirt, and hopefully a head scarf to cover my very frizzy hair. The humidity in the air here is maybe my worst enemy. Alas. I also bought pens and a bag to do my shopping in. Plastic bags are a virtual epidimic here. They choke all the sewers, and are literally all over Accra. I have decided to make my best effort to not contribute to the pollution. Elena also bought a pineapple and a huge knife to cut it with. The fruit here is amazing.
Tomorrow I have HELLA (Nor cal? haahhaha) research to do. I have decided to do my independent study on the factors contributing to the high percentage of women with HIV/AIDS here in Ghana. So I must go and sleep. This weekend I will be in Kumasi with my group hopefully having an amazing time. I'll report the craziness soon. I love you.
The 50 or so of us boarded 2 tro-tros, which are basically glorified mini-vans, which fit around 20 or so people and run all over the country. They are extrememly dangerous on highways and going long distances quickly, but within cities, like Legon or Accra, the cities I occupy, they are unable to travel at dangerous speeds. We paid 15 pesawas (15 cents) each and were on our way. The festival was very laid back, we bought cheap beer and danced on the beach, and were periodically harrassed by Ghanaian men claiming love and affection. My favorite potential suitor was the one who actually rapped a song at me for about 5 minutes talking about how I was a gift from god for him. I was amused, then supremely uncomfortable, then I ran away to another group I knew.
Today Elena (my roommate), and our friends Bridget, Elliott, and Angelie (sp?) took a tro-tro to Medina, an outdoor market where I purchased BEAUTIFUL fabric to make 2 skirts and a shirt, and hopefully a head scarf to cover my very frizzy hair. The humidity in the air here is maybe my worst enemy. Alas. I also bought pens and a bag to do my shopping in. Plastic bags are a virtual epidimic here. They choke all the sewers, and are literally all over Accra. I have decided to make my best effort to not contribute to the pollution. Elena also bought a pineapple and a huge knife to cut it with. The fruit here is amazing.
Tomorrow I have HELLA (Nor cal? haahhaha) research to do. I have decided to do my independent study on the factors contributing to the high percentage of women with HIV/AIDS here in Ghana. So I must go and sleep. This weekend I will be in Kumasi with my group hopefully having an amazing time. I'll report the craziness soon. I love you.
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