Sankofa

Five months ago on this day I was walking out the door on the way to the airport.

Today I am walking out the door with a greater understanding of the world.

No one can take that away from me.

No one can change what happened.

And I’m okay with that.

I’m okay with that because I’ve learned a lot about myself,

And I’m not afraid to be me anymore.

I was.

But now I understand,

I can stand up because I have so much support behind me.

It’s about new experiences,

Facing challenges,

And it doesn’t have to happen in another country,

It can happen right here.

That’s what I’m learning now.

It’s okay to miss.

But it’s also okay to move forward.

I will carry these past four months with me,

Reflecting on the past,

Looking towards to the future,

That’s the meaning of the Sankofa bird,

Holding the egg of the future

While looking backward.

That will remind me,

To be.

Thinking back to 8th Grade

This evening I was back at Charlottesville Catholic School giving the keynote speech at the eighth grade graduation. It was honor to have been invited, to be able to share my dream, to bring a piece of Ghana back with me. 

What if?

Life is full of “what if” questions. What is the first one that comes to your mind?

What if I’m not ready to leave my friends?

What if I don’t fit in at high school?

or

What if I had a super power, what would it be?

Some of our questions are unrealistic, some are our dreams, some are our hopes for the future but all of them make us wonder; make us think, about the consequences, about the possibilities, and about the realities.

The reality right now is that you are leaving this community, this school, this class, and taking the next step, one step closer to answering some of your what if questions, others will remain unanswered for days, weeks, perhaps forever.

But who I am to be talking to you about the next step? I sat where you are seven years ago listening to my graduation speaker and wondering what he was talking about. He had all of these points and I didn’t seem to be processing any of them. So if that’s what’s happening to you, here’s my one point– dreams can come true.

It’s cheesy, it’s cliché, it’s a phrase you’ve probably heard a million times but it’s true.

This past semester my dream of going to Africa came true. From my Catholic School graduation in 2005 to graduation from Charlottesville High School in 2009 to my college years at Tulane University in New Orleans, I have kept dreaming. I am now entering my senior year, having traveled abroad to Ghana in West Africa and am ready to start dreaming again.

My dream of going to Africa started in Kindergarten. After learning about it one day in class I came home and wanted to know why we couldn’t take a family vacation there. I’m not quite sure what my initial attraction to Africa was but something drew me to this mysterious continent. When I started thinking about studying abroad there was no question in mind where I wanted to go. So I applied, was accepted into the program and then the realization sank in.

“Can.” Your dreams can come true, if you are ready to put in the work, in the time, in the effort, in whatever it takes to take the next step. Your immediate next step is high school. And what are your dreams of high school?

Those dreams are affected every day by your actions, by what you choose to do and what you choose not to do. And that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. Because even though you all have different feelings about graduating, about high school, you are all in the same boat. After today you start making your own choices as a rising high school student. And those choices may or may not lead you closer to your dreams.

The choices I made throughout high school and throughout college led me closer to Africa. While I was there I spent time studying at the University of Ghana and teaching English Comprehension to fourth, fifth, and sixth graders. But most importantly I began to understand why I was in Africa, what had drawn me to this place since Kindergarten.

I was laying in bed one night under my mosquito net in Ghana and started thinking about how I had gotten here, what choices I had made, what questions I had along the way, and what my next steps were going to be.

And I realized something in that moment, it all started here at the Catholic School. In this community, surrounded by God, surrounded by people that treated one another with respect, that built one another up instead of tearing one another down that I was able to dream. But why did I realize it then and not sooner?

Being in Ghana was the first time I felt surrounded by a community like that again. These were a people that kept God close every day, who believed there’s a bigger picture, who when questioned about what they believed never faltered. Every day during my four months there I encountered God and Jesus either in conversation or in my physical environment. A common answer to “How are you?” was “Fine by God’s Grace.” The structures where people sold goods may be named “Prince of Peace Bakery” or “God is Life Electronics.” A close Ghanaian friend of mine and I frequently talked about religion and he would always tell me that there was a reason God brought me to Ghana. And my host mother would tell me not to thank her but to thank God for he is the one providing for us.

There may be times in the next days, weeks, years that you start questioning what you believe. Some of you may already have questions. Ask the questions. Find the deeper meaning in religion. That’s what I’ve been doing for seven years. And it’s brought me to my dream; it’s brought me closer to God, and closer to figuring out what I believe.

And what I believe today is that God brings us closer to our dreams and closer to one another, though we may not ever understand how it happens. Looking back in my past where my dream began, I see my Kindergarten friend, Katie and I. Although at first she thought I was a boy with my short hair we soon became fast friends. We were in elementary school together, came to the Catholic School together, and finally went to Charlottesville High School together. However, saying “together” may be misleading.

In the past few years I have come to learn more about my friend and her time in middle school then I previously knew. And what I’ve learned is that not everyone has the same experience. It seems pretty obvious to say that no one’s experience is the same, but it’s something else to understand what that means. It took me years to understand that my and Katie’s time in middle school was vastly different. And that’s why it’s difficult for me to stand up here before you as an outside speaker, because right now I know that each of you is having a different experience and I wish I could hear from each of you what that is. Some of you are probably ready for high school and others may need this summer to take time to move forward. But instead of being able to hear those things, I am up here hoping that at the very least you will spend a few minutes dreaming and sharing with one another your dreams, as I share mine.

And that you will continue to share with your friends here what life in high school is like because our friends and families are the support on the way to our dreams. Your friendships don’t end here, this I know from experience. Although my friends from middle school and I have taken different paths, we all sat where you are seven years ago, we all have this shared experience of graduation and this connection to Charlottesville Catholic School that will never change.

I am truly honored and undoubtedly blessed to be standing here before you, that my steps have lead me back to my roots, back here to Charlottesville Catholic School.

I want to leave you with one last thought.

The other afternoon I sat with a preschool student who had been removed from playing with his friend because he and his friend were being disruptive. I told him he had two choices. “You can choose to misbehave and sit with me while your friends play outside or you can choose to change your actions and go play with your friends.”

What if you can’t decide what choice to make?

Think about your dreams, about the consequences, about the possibilities, and what decision will help take you one step closer to your dream.

Something Missing

            Or too much happening,

            There’s a past here,

            There it was just the beginning.

            Work,

            Planning,

            Looking toward the future,

            It’s easy to miss the present.

            That’s it,

            That’s what I see missing,

            Our present.

Ghana and You Video

This semester I spent time interviewing other students on my CIEE program about why they chose Ghana, what they're learning, and a ton of other questions. Thanks to the Darden Scholarship from Tulane University, I was able to edit the interviews and put together this video titled "Ghana and You."

Thanks to everyone who participated! If you have suggestions or comments please let me know!

Check it out:
https://vimeo.com/42986536

"Obruni" Return

            One whole day back in the U.S. and I want the words to describe this, how it is being back, to be perfect. But here’s the thing, there are no perfect words.

            What I see now, it’s different.

            It’s easy to come back and see the differences,

            It’s easy to come back and be angry at how much we have here,

            It’s easy to come back and forget,

            It’s easy to come back and judge.

            But all of this makes it harder in the end.

            Everyone’s return will be different. This is just mine, my opinion for now.

            I am seeing the similarities.

            I am accepting us for who we are and what we have.

            I am staying open to sharing.

            I am trying my hardest not to judge.

            I prepared for this return, each day teaching myself so I wouldn’t forget.

            It sounds crazy to prepare for coming home but it’s worked.

            This transition, this return, it takes time,

time to process, time to miss, time to be sad,

time to be appreciative, time to remember,

time to write, time to share.

“Claire, the lights are out. I am using one of the candles you gave me,” Grandma told me today. “I miss you and love you.”

Me too.

I will keep writing, Ghana to America, I will share, even when it’s hard.

            Right now.

Winneba

Yesterday morning we left to visit Charlottesville’s Sister City, Winneba. Located along the coast about an hour and a half drive from Accra we decided to take the tro-tro there. We tried to beat the traffic by leaving early and we set off in a cab to pick a tro-tro at Kaneshie Station. After contacting a few people back in Charlottesville we were put in touch with Tina, a delegate for Winneba. She graciously showed us around the town, explaining to us that we had just missed the Deer Hunting Festival, which took place this past weekend, and that we would also be missing the fishermen’s’ celebration in the afternoon. I told her this gave me another reason to come back to Ghana.

While taking us around town she told us that we would pay a visit to the Mayor Chief Executive of Winneba. (Yes, we’re a big deal around here). Then we went to lunch where Tina told us all about the activities of Winneba and about her travels to Charlottesville. Hearing about Charlottesville, being with my mom, and being in Ghana, I felt the sadness about going home go away a little bit. (Don’t worry it’s back today).

We traveled back home in the afternoon and arrived just in time for Grandma’s jollof rice. Nikki, Melissa, and Amy came over for dinner and joined Grandma, my mom, and me. It was an amazing last night. And now we are preparing to leave.

Caught in the in-between, between America and Ghana, between wanting to leave and wanting to stay, between smiles and tears, between dirt and concrete, I have fallen in this gutter of life, and soon I will be on the other side.

Dreams Can Come True

When this song came on in the tro-tro on the way to the Volta Region I couldn’t resist singing along to a song I grew up singing in my living room. From my living room to the tro-tro stop “Living Room” my dream of coming to Africa has come true.

These past four months have truly been a dream come true. Grandma asked me the other day where I will travel to next. When she asked me that question I didn’t know my answer. I’ve always said “I want to go Africa” and now I am here. “I am sure Kenya,” is what she told me. Perhaps. But Ghana will be on my mind, the possibilities are endless.

The possibilities are endless because I have had such immense support coming here, being here, and I know that once I return I will have many people to thank. This is where it starts.

Dreams are possible,

With family,

With friends,

With people you meet along the road.

They come true because of you,

Because you reach out and touch people,

And those people want to be right beside you,

And you let them,

Because you know that without them,

Without them you would still be dreaming.

Thank you,

For reading,

For following,

For praying,

For thinking of me,

For all of the support,

For being there,

Because knowing there are people reading,

It keeps me writing,

It helps me grow,

It allows me to share.

The hardest part is yet to come.

I know this,

And I am ready.

This is not where it ends.

Role Reversal

The electricity went out after we returned from church yesterday, early in the afternoon. Claire had plans to go out in the evening with friends, but did not want to leave me in the house alone without electricity (Felix and Grandma had also gone out to visit her daughter). After considering the options, we decided to go to the A&C Mall together where she would meet friends after setting me up in the Koffee Lounge to order my dinner and watch Blood Diamond on her computer. I joked that this completed the mother/daughter switch as I felt like she needed to plug me into a movie and give me a juice box. She even came back to check on me once during the evening to make sure that I was okay.

As I sat in the café watching the movie with earplugs, I realized how much I was enjoying this new role. Claire has been completely in charge of everything – where we go, bargaining with the taxi drivers, exchanging the money, keeping the money and giving me 5 cedi when I leave her for a few minutes to buy water. She even asked me for the change!

It has been a fun week in Ghana with Claire. We have two more days here and I know that Claire will be very sad to leave. I can see why.

First Time, Last Time

“Three nights left under the mosquito net,” my mom said to me this morning. Wait, what am I going to do without the mosquito net? Without the gate to the house? Without guard dogs? What is it going to be like?

These last few days are going by too quickly. And yet, having my mom along has opened my eyes yet again. New tastes, new sights, new things to write home about – everything I have missed explaining, that I have become accustomed to, that has become a part of my everyday life. It’s only when you are holding hands with your mom walking next to the gutter, and you next to the cars flying by, that you remember that it can be scary, that it is exciting, and it is a time that you will never forget.

So when my mom asks if it’s okay to take pictures in the market, I have to look through a new lens, change the shutter speed, focus in on what’s around us, and try to keep up with my fast-walking, wonderful mom.

These are my last times in Ghana and my mom’s first. Saying goodbye is easier when you have your mom sleeping in bed next to you under the mosquito net (though not when the power is out, then it’s just too hot). I couldn’t have asked for a better ending.

Wet White Women

Today was another adventure in Ghana. Grandma wanted to take us to her village, which is in the Eastern region so Felix drove the three of us to Odumase Krobo. Anytime you get into a vehicle whether it is a taxi, a trotro, or a car, it’s dangerous. I have found that everything in Ghana is slow except for the driving! On a two-lane road, people will pass you on the right or the left.

We arrived safely at grandma’s family home and had lunch that grandma had packed. Afterwards we drove to a more remote part of the village to go to the market. Grandma, Claire, and I walked through the market as Grandma wanted to buy us beads that her village is known for. The market was a maze of hundreds and hundreds of shacks with people selling many different things. We were also the only white people, as this village is more remote and not likely to have any tourists.

As I sat down to have my necklace made, a storm approached and it began to rain. Claire and Grandma joined me under the tin roof and then the deluge began. There was driving rain for about an hour. The tin roofs were coming undone as the wind was really strong and I was keenly aware of how dangerous this could be. Some of the stands began to collapse from the wind as well. As Claire and I stood together wrapped with grandma’s beautiful Ghanaian fabric to protect us from the rain, we realized that we were both frightened at what might happen.

The rain finally let up to a drizzle and we began the walk back to the car. This entailed walking through what was previously a dirt path, but was now a river. Water was up to our ankles at one point. As we carefully traversed this new path we realized that people were talking about us and laughing. Grandma said that they found it funny to see two white women soaked from the rain walking through the market. As we passed hundreds of Ghanaian women, they looked at Grandma then at us and pointed and laughed.

What an adventure!

At the market

After the storm!

From the Volta Region

We left yesterday morning, took a taxi to Madina, and then an air-conditioned trotro to Hohoe. It was Claire’s first time in an air-conditioned trotro! It was a 3½ hour ride to HoHoe and then a 30-minute taxi ride to Wli. We had lunch at our hotel (which consisted of 5 rooms), and then hiked the mountain to the waterfall. Wli waterfall is the tallest waterfall in Western Africa. It was truly beautiful. After a hike down, we showered and got ready for dinner. We were the only ones for lunch and the only ones for dinner. It was very relaxing.

In bed by 8:10 AND we slept until 6:30! Sleeping is good in Ghana. We found a trotro right away and got on back to Hohoe. Some trotros stop to pick people up along the way and can also stop to pick up things to take to the market. On one of these stops, our trotro was parked on the left side of the road loading up large bags of something. There was another trotro speeding down the road towards us (not uncommon) and they swerved to our left to pass us, but there was a taxi coming from the other direction and they crashed! Fortunately no one was hurt. There was much yelling and pointing and probably cursing (but since it was in Ewe I can’t be sure).

After about 20 minutes they must have worked things out and we were on our way to HoHoe. In Hohoe we got another trotro (not air-conditioned) back to Madina. It was a 4-hour trip as we had many stops. One stop was at a check-point where police were stationed. They made all 15 of us get out (Claire said it was because of us) and proceed to another area. Everyone got through without incident except for us. We were stopped by the police in their camouflage, boots and guns. They wanted to see our passports, which we did not bring because we were not traveling outside of Ghana (Claire had an attitude about this which the popo did not appreciate). After questioning us about this they let us go and we boarded the trotro back to Madina. Finally a taxi back home and here we are…

At Wli Lower Waterfall

Our African Oasis

School Bus Tro-Tro

This trip started off waiting for a taxi at the end of my road. As we were waiting one came by with a monkey riding in the passenger seat – what?! While I was astonished, mom thought nothing of it, as she said, “I didn’t know, it could’ve been normal.”

Monkey in the passenger seat,

Air-conditioned trotro,

“Dreams Can Come True” playing on the radio.

Rushing waterfall,

Groundnut soup,

Taking us to another world,

Far away,

Far removed,

Peaceful.

Until…

The school bus trotro,

Thought trotros were invincible,

Turns out, accidents can happen anywhere,

Simply bystanders to the yelling match,

“Don’t worry they don’t have guns,”

I told her.

Not understanding the language,

Some things remain unknown,

Fall asleep, wake up,

This is it – the riding of the trotro.

Made it back,

All in all,

Oh.

And my attitude,

Asking for passports,

Should have just apologized,

Oh well,

That is life,

Bumps and all.

Four Months

Ghana Inspired Me:

To teach a class of thirty-five students,

To raise my hand in a class of four hundred,

To send pen pal letters across an ocean,

To play guitar in a crowded restaurant,

To create a video of our experiences,

To write,

To run,

To not look back,

To be present,

To be creative,

To get involved,

To make new friends and new family,

To open up

In this beautiful place,

Challenging,

Motivating,

It has become a new home.

Ghana.

Inspired.

Me.

Where to Get Water

A slower day in Ghana, thank goodness. Claire and I visited with the preschool children this morning where she read them many stories. We gave the teachers many books and school supplies from the students at Stone-Robinson and Charlottesville Catholic School. Grandma and the teachers were very happy.

In the afternoon we took a taxi to Osu where we shopped at the street markets and bargained for things that we wanted to purchase. It was a hot day so it was nice to sit down and have lunch in an air-conditioned place. Afterwards we did something very American and took a taxi to the Accra mall and saw a movie – The Avengers. Very relaxing.

It is easy to get overwhelmed by the number of cars, always honking, the number of people walking on the street, selling things on the side of the street, or walking up to you to ask you to buy something, the trash and rubble, the noise, and the heat.

Most amazing is the people selling things while walking through the traffic. While we were sitting in the taxi today, people walked by selling the following items from on top of their heads: handkerchiefs, toilet paper, water, plantains, fish, q-tips, magazines, CDs, maps, toiletry items, peanuts, sunglasses, bubble machines, phone credit, sandals, watches, nail clipper sets, DVDs, and onions. Claire was disappointed that we didn’t see the tummy trimmer (as seen on TV) like she has seen previously. Maybe tomorrow.

As in Virginia, I am always thinking about drinking water so when we left this morning I asked Claire if I should bring some water to which she responded, “We can always buy water off someone’s head.” Welcome to Ghana.

Reading at the nursery

                                                      Walking through Osu

From America to Africa in 11 hours

It was a perfect ending and a perfect beginning. Sam drove me to the airport, helped me carry my two 50-pound bags of luggage, assisted with the check-in (yes I did have to remove one heavy item from one bag to get it under 50 pounds), and walked me to the furthest point that he could in the airport. With a wonderful hug and an “I love you mama”, he sent me off to Ghana.

Several hours later I arrived at the Kotoka airport. After being met by the health officials to make certain that I had my yellow fever vaccination (that’s another story), going through immigration, then customs, I arrived at the front of the airport where Claire was waiting for me. I could not have been any happier to see her. After a long overdue hug and a few tears, Claire said that we needed to move along as we were blocking other people from leaving.

We stepped out into the warm African air and Claire began to talk with taxi drivers about a fair price to get home. She was not happy with the prices that she was quoted and so we walked down the road until she got a taxi driver who she thought would charge a reasonable price. Well that led to Claire arguing with the taxi driver for most of the ride home. At one point she said to him “You are charging me the obruni price!” I must admit that I was happy to see my daughter going head to head with a Ghanian taxi driver. This was a new Claire!

Today was filled with new experiences. I rode in a trotro and a shared taxi; ate plantains and jollof rice, a rice ball in ground nut soup, and red-red for dinner. So basically all new foods. And all delicious.

It is a role-reversal to be here with Claire. I rely on her entirely to tell me what to do. She is the native and I am the visitor. She is completely at home walking on the dirt roads, hailing a trotro, negotiating with taxi drivers, and navigating the dangerous roads to get where we need to be. She is leading and I am following.

I like this journey with Claire.

New Arrival!

Right off the plane, ready for Ghana?

Finishing

This past week has flown by – from finishing classes and exams to preparing for goodbyes, it hasn’t been easy.

On Tuesday I went to Tot To Teen, my first time back since the break, and found out that the teacher I was with had been moved to class two. I decided to stay with her as they’ve changed the upper class schedule and I would only be there for two days. I enjoyed being with the younger students but missed my other students (yes, even the rambunctious ones).

The rest of the week I was busy preparing and causing accidents. Let me explain…

A taxi driver was attempting to get my attention and when I shook my head no he started to turn at the intersection I was crossing at. When he saw me crossing he thought that I was coming towards him and he stopped short. Thus the car behind him hit his taxi, oops.

Then I was sitting in Luscious doing some work and the power went out. I realized I should unplug the cord from my computer to avoid any power surge but didn’t think about unplugging it from the wall. Next thing I knew there was smoke coming from my charger, oops. The charger is now finished.

Back to the rest of the week…

Yesterday Grandma and I went to Makola Market in Accra (what an adventure). I hadn’t been shopping in a market before with a Ghanaian so it was interesting to see how the sellers treated her. However, it wasn’t an easy shopping day with me around because I tend to increase the prices by being white. So, when we were finally getting a taxi to leave she made me stand away from her so that she could get a taxi back for the price she wanted.

And on to this coming week…

Tomorrow is my last exam.  And I can’t wait until tomorrow afternoon, for my mom to arrive!

(Perhaps I will have a guest blogger this next week). 

Two Weeks

Careful not to step too close,

Afraid to fall into the unknown,

Watching everything around me,

Learning from being here,

Going there,

Seeing everything in between.

Here now,

It’s familiar,

Still careful not to step too close,

Open gutter,

Dirt blowing,

Taxi honking,

“obruni”

                                                            Watch your step,

The road is getting shorter,

Being paved here,

Still dirt there,

Cars coming from every direction,

Thoughts racing,

Driving by,

Not ready yet,

To say goodbye,

To leave this place,

It will have to wait.

Grandma Gritty

It was her birthday yesterday. This post is for her - this amazing woman that has become a part of my life, who has opened her home and her heart for me.

She shares her stories, her knowledge, her wisdom, her pain and her joy with me.

She has taught me how to forgive, how to let go, how to trust that I am not alone.

She has given me a home, a place that I look forward coming back to after a long day, and love, that keeps me walking out the door every day. “Take care.”

She has cooked me some of the best Ghanaian food, always making sure that I am well fed and enjoy the food I am eating.

She has been a mother to me, looking out for me, caring for me, being concerned about me.

She is an inspiration to me, as a wife, a mother, and a teacher.

One day I will come back to Ghana for her and her family.

But before then we will meet again soon in the U.S.

Grandma Gritty, thank you.

Children of Ghana

Exams - Why not?

“The exam is not coming on today.”

Oh, okay.

Wait, what?

Yes, it happens – things get changed, mixed up, moved, and the world does not stop.

This is one of the many things I have learned during my time in Ghana.

Let it go – the bad feelings, the frustrations, the anger. Why not?

Yesterday was the beginning of my exams. Only two weeks of exams and my studying at the University of Ghana is finished. Can’t believe it.

I took my Development Studies Final yesterday afternoon. Tomorrow I will take my drumming final (a little nervous about this one). Then on Saturday I will have my last Twi exam. Then one presentation, one final paper, and one final exam in “The Context of Development and Underdevelopment” left in the last week.

This Saturday night is our Farewell Dinner, the beginning of the end.

Let it go – the sadness, the nervousness, the fears. Why not?

Learning

Lesson:

Being Present

Remaining here until the end,

We are constantly looking forward,

We forget to be,

I keep saying I’ll try,

But I never knew how,

Until now,

Until I realize this is it.

Step 1: Music

Step 2: Walk, run, dance

Step 3: Think

Step 4: Draw, paint, photograph

Step 5: Find it.

Find that place,

Where you are happy,

Where you can enjoy every moment,

Wherever you are.

It comes from inside,

Then smile,

Wave to a stranger,

Do something you would never do,

Just because you can,

Because you are you,

And no one can change that.

Last step: Do it. 

Thanks Ms.S!

A few photos from celebrating Easter with the nursery school students...

Thank you Ms. Santoski for sending the Easter Egg Dying Kit and goodies for the children - 

they loved  it!

Fault

I have been trying to figure this out for quite some time. And I am sure I am still figuring it out. It is defined as “a defect or imperfection; flaw; failing.” But by “figuring out” I simply mean, being aware of myself, my actions, the moments when I stumble, the moments when I trip others, the times that I spend thinking about what happened.

And now I have realized my greatest fault yet. And yet if I spoke of it, wrote of it, I would only be doing it again.

That thing I do.

It isn’t all about me. It’s about you. And then us.

And if I apologize now I am only doing it again. But I am, sorry. 

Turning things sideways, upside down, not telling the truth. And then thinking that when I do, someone is expected to listen. That they will believe me, this time.

I was always the girl who cried wolf. The thing is I never stopped being it. I never admitted to it. And now here I am. Call me out. Cause now I can handle it.

And now that I know, I promise to do better, better for you who are reading this. 

What Will Your Story Be?

A moment to pause and reflect on this journey, this incredible experience, this time in my life in Ghana, wondering what I will tell people when I return home.

“How was Ghana?”

This is my story. It starts with a girl who had no idea what to expect, who went to the airport bathroom and didn’t know if she could get on the plane.

And three months later this girl is realizing that soon she will leave this wonderful place, that soon she will be heading back home – this is my story.

“Ghana was unbelievable. It was a great experience,” that’s all that I will be able to say. But behind those few words are all of the moments that built me, that changed me, that are a part of me now…

Tro-tro rides, the numerous times I was called obruni, the marriage proposals, standing alone at the front of a classroom of thirty-five students, attempting to teach one and two-year-olds, running around the neighborhoods, becoming friends with my credit man, learning from Grandma, happy hour at Luscious Temptations, traveling around Ghana, asking questions about everything, eating Jollof rice and friend plantains, classes at University of Ghana, cooling off with a FanIce, and all that I can’t put into words.

My story is one of development, one in which I am forming my own definition, my own opinions.

Development – listening, learning, and understanding another way of living. Taking from those teaching moments what matters to you, deciding what you want to actively change, and reflecting on who you already are. Asking questions about what you think you know and realizing that there is so much that you don’t know. And then becoming aware that development is not always in one’s control, that only with help, with support can it occur, that sometimes those that we think are supporting us are hindering us, that sometimes we have to let go, sometimes we have to go on our way, but my journey, my development has not been alone, it has only been possible with all of you supporting me.

A story that ends with you, that ends with me thanking everyone for giving me this chance. It ends with this girl, this white girl, getting back on an airplane.

Happy Friday!

FanIce - vanilla ice cream in a bag, delicious!

Playing "Collide" at Happy Hour (Yes, it is the only song I know on guitar)

Celebrating Melissa's Birthday!

Boatemaa (one of the CIEE Staff) and me 

Navigating Titles

There’s usually a class representative in each class who is in charge of making copies for the other students, preparing the classroom for the lecturer, and making announcements.

Emma asked me the other day, “Claire, how did you become the CIEE Class Rep?”

I had to think about it for a minute. “I’m not sure.”

I think it began when I decided it would be a good idea for us to celebrate people’s birthdays as a group, as CIEE. I took out a sheet of paper and posted it on the board in the office for everyone who has a Spring Birthday to be able to write it down. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to with that information but I thought I would think of something eventually.

Then I began to work on my project, interviewing other CIEE students and sending out group e-mails. From there, it just happened.

Now I am helping to organize a CIEE Trivia Night, helping to plan the Farwell dinner, helping to put together a book of CIEE Students’ Stories, and buying cake and candy to celebrate the birthdays – oh my.

When I write it out like that it seems very overwhelming but to me, it isn’t. Planning, organizing, putting things together, is what I enjoy doing. And so I’m finding it rewarding helping out.

But I don’t need a title. I am happy just being Claire, that one girl that keeps sending out the e-mails (which I am sure some people find annoying and are wondering why I am the one sending them).

In high school I needed a title. I needed a way to define myself. But I know me now.

I hope that through all I am trying to do, all I am trying to help out with, that I am making things more enjoyable and worthwhile for everyone on this program.

Ashanti Region

Our last group trip was this past weekend to the Ashanti Region (the yellow area on the map). It was the last time I will find myself in a bus full of obrunis driving around Ghana. So maybe I’m getting a little sentimental but it’s happening, entering the last month of my stay in Ghana.

We left early on Friday morning to begin the drive to Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti Region. Quite a few of us had been up late celebrating with Melissa for her birthday at Luscious and I found myself sleeping almost the entire six-hour ride there. When we arrived at the hotel we had lunch and then we were back on the road for the afternoon activities.

The afternoon activities included visiting Bonwire, the Kente Village, where we were able to purchase original Kente items as well as try our hands at it too. (The first photo is an example of Kente). I got a little overwhelmed in the small building we were in and so I found my way back to the bus where I was able to regroup. (Sometimes bargaining can become a bit much). Then we proceeded to another village where we were able to observe how they make the dye to put the Adinkra symbols on cloth (The second photo is an example of Adinkra). Each symbol has a different meaning. The most popular symbol is “Gye Nyame” which means “Except for God.”

Then we headed back to the hotel for dinner and an early bedtime. The next morning we headed out to see the traditional Asante homes. We were given a short tour of the building and heard the history of the Ashanti Region. On our way to the Manhyia Palace, now a museum, we got stuck in a lot of traffic and decided to eat lunch before going there. The British gave the Manhyia Palace to the Asantehene (the chief of the Asante people) in 1925 when he returned from exile. We were given a tour of the palace; the chief no longer resides in that building so we were unable to see him. (The third photo is of the Manhyia Palace).

It was then time for the market. Kejetia, the market in Kumasi, is the largest open-air market in all of West Africa. Going into the market requires some mental preparation as the people selling things shout as you walk by, reach out and grab your arm, and you have to maneuver around all the people going in different directions. I really enjoy going to the market now because there’s so much to see but it can become overwhelming.

Melissa and I headed into the market together and we were doing well finding our way around. We found the shoe section where Melissa decided to try on a pair of sandals. When Melissa decided she didn’t want to buy them we were followed by the woman, who was angry with us for not purchasing the sandals, and she started yelling at us. We quickly moved on. It was finally time to find our way back to the bus (we gave ourselves thirty minutes) and then it was time for dinner.

In my three months of being here I have not yet talked at all about food. This is not surprising since at dinner in Kumasi I ate my first fufu. Now that I have eaten fufu I will write about food soon.

The next day, Sunday, we had the morning to ourselves. Nikki, Amy, Melissa, Hannah, and I decided to head back to the market. It was less crazy because it was Sunday and we were able to find the things we had been looking for. Then we had lunch at the hotel and we were back on the road to Accra, back home.

Only two more weeks of class and then exams begin...

Ashanti Region Photos

Just a few photos from this weekend...

Twelve Weeks

And I finally understand that I will never be able to find a trashcan or a bathroom when I need one in Ghana. I have experienced what it’s like to live without running water, what it’s like to sleep with the power out, how difficult it can be at times to live in a developing country.

And I finally understand that I will never be able to fully understand Ghana, the people and the culture, but that what I have learned, what I am learning, and what I will continue to learn in the next few weeks will be my beginning.

And I finally understand that I will always be learning, that no matter where I travel, whom I encounter, what I experience, there will never be an ending.

Twelve weeks ago I began to question my beliefs, my future, my understandings, my judgments, my stereotypes, and what the next months would bring.

And here I am. Still questioning, still trying to understand, still working through the hard moments, still enjoying the happy ones, still running around, still finding time to sit outside and relax, still enjoying life in Ghana.

And I still can’t believe I am here, that this is my life, that I am living it here.

And I still can’t believe that I have travelled to the Eastern Region, the Volta Region, the Western Region, the Central Region, the Greater Accra Region – five of the ten regions, places that local Ghanaians have not even been to. And this weekend is another region, a trip to the Ashanti Region with the CIEE group, our last trip together.

And I’m not ready for the ending.

It’s time to keep running, to get up early and enjoy every moment.

Easter

On this Easter Sunday in Ghana, I can’t stop thinking about my grandmother, about my family, about the past, and all of the memories from egg hunting at Aunt Patricia’s house to going to Church with Grandma Barry, that have created me. I know that this holiday will not be the same for my family, the first Easter without my grandmother in the kitchen trying to do everything. I know that is sad and yet it is a time we are supposed to be happy. This is the beginning of my understanding that there is a reason why I was welcomed into Grandma’s Gritty house, why she took me in as a daughter, why I am here – to remember. To remember that when there is sadness there is also happiness; while things stay the same, things also change; why we question is also why we believe; and where we are going is where we have come from.

I haven’t written much in the past week about what I’ve been doing because the days past by so fast. Every week there’s American Store Monday (this is when Nikki and I go to this small store that sells American goods), Pizza Tuesday (when Amy, Nikki, and I go to a pizza place to buy one, get one free pizza), Internet Thursday (when Nikki and I go to the A and C mall and use the internet), and Happy Hour Friday (buy one, get one free drinks at Luscious with Melissa, Nikki, and Amy).

This past weekend Nikki, Amy, and I traveled to Kokrobite (only about two hours away and still in the Greater Accra region) and spent Friday night there. We went to the beach on Friday and Saturday where I got a chance to relax and just read. There’s only so much relaxing you get to do though when people are constantly coming up to you and wanting to be your friend or wanting you to buy something from them. However, it was a good short trip and just what I needed before the rest of this time flies by.

The weekend before we (most of the CIEE students) participated in a Community Service project at the Hope Community Chapel Orphanage. We spent Saturday painting and playing with the children. Also, Nikki and I taught at the nursery that Friday and using the egg dying kit that was sent to me in the package we dyed eggs with the children. It was definitely something out of the ordinary.

Lots to do in the next coming weeks. Lots to start. Lots to finish. Lots to think about. Not watching the time, no watch today.

Stereotyped

White girl. American girl. Blonde girl. Obruni. Foreigner. These words describe me, they put a label on me, they sometimes hurt me, they sometimes help me, they aid in stereotyping me.

Confronted everyday with my color, with being white, I question who I am as a white person, what it means to be white, what others think when they see me, what stereotype do I belong to?

“a widely held but fixed and oversimplified image or

idea of a particular type of person or thing”

I asked Felix what his stereotype of white American girls is the other day and I was angry to hear what he had to say. I found that I was upset because I fit his stereotype of a white girl. Stereotypes exist for a reason. They allow us to generalize, to categorize, to put things into a frame of reference that we can understand, that we can easily distinguish by, that we don’t need to question.

After many discussions in my seminar class about the difference between stereotypes and cultural generalizations I have begun to see and experience the negative effects of stereotypes.

To Felix, as a white American girl, I am seen as someone who can open doors for him. Without even opening my mouth to share my story, he already has his own idea about who I am. As he was sharing this he mentioned that he was sure that I would be trying to find a way to help Sadik, my friend, while I am here. How could he know this? He couldn’t, I’d never shared it with him. But based on his stereotype that’s what he thought.

Stereotypes exist throughout the world. But is their existence positive or negative? I for one can tell you that for the first time I am feeling the effects of being stereotyped, and it is not something that I enjoy.

Most Americans that I have encountered have a stereotype of Africa, an image of Africa that is most probably formed through the media. Most Ghanaians that I have encountered have a stereotype of America, an image of a rich country. Is this how we want to be known? Is there even a way of changing it? Do we have any control over stereotypes?

It’s time to question. Question those stereotypes, the one where you are a rich American to a Ghanaian, and is there anything you can do about it? Maybe it starts within, changing our own stereotypes, questioning our own stereotypes – why not?