Gone Away

"Hey! Obruni! Where are you going? Are you going to the market? To the safari? Do you need a taxi, I will take you!"

Still reading my book, not looking up, I shook my head no. "They act like I just got here yesterday," I said half to myself and half to the remaining passengers in the tro-tro. I was rather surprised (and pleased) when the tro-tro filled with laughter.

The funny part is, back in June, I can actually remember telling an inquisitive taxi driver, "I just got here yesterday." And now I am left telling those around me, "I leave Ghana tomorrow." It's hard to believe that eight weeks have passed since leaving the U.S., but it's true. Tomorrow I'll load up and head to Accra to catch my flight home. Two other Global Mamas are leaving this weekend, so we have plans to rent out a 15-seater Ford van, bring our own DVD and snacks, and turn it into a party van of sorts - you can still call it a party van at 7 in the morning, right?? Either way, I fly out of Accra at 11:30pm on Friday (7:30 EST), and if all goes well, will be back in the tri-state area around 10am on Saturday.

This last week has been a bit chaotic. On Friday, Aunt Tubbs arrived in Ghana to visit both me and her friend Renae (the original Global Mama). From the airport, we headed east to Aylos Bay, which is located on the river on the way to the Volta Region. We had a wonderfully relaxing weekend consisting of reading and kayaking and eating. On Sunday, we headed back to Accra, where we stayed until Tuesday. Monday, we celebrated Tubbs' birthday in Accra. We went to a beautiful silver jewelry shop and out to dinner at a great Lebanese place.

Tuesday morning we headed back to Cape Coast. I had a date to have lunch at Auntie Mary's house, and Tubbs wanted to help out at the Global Mamas office. During the last week of school, Mary and I planned for me to come over for a traditional Ghanaian meal - fufu. When I arrived at her house, two of the other teachers were there, too, and we had a great time together. I will definitely miss them, and I think they will miss me too. I guess that's what Facebook is for..

Yesterday, Tubbs and I took a trip up to the school so she could see the building. Even though the kids are on break, we were able to peek in the windows so she could get a feel for what the school is like. In the afternoon, I headed to Takoradi to visit Bridget's family one last time. They were kind enough to have some traditional Ghanaian outfits made for me, which I tried on and brought back to Cape with me. I made it back to Elmina just in time for dinner at Eli's.

Naturally, I waited for the last minute to do most of my souvenir shopping. I spent most of today, my last day in Cape/Elmina, walking around Cape and shopping. It was a cloudy, almost misty day - I think the weather could sense how I feel about my upcoming departure. Although there have been times recently that I have been itching for the comforts of home, today was not one of those days. It is very slowly sinking in that I will actually be boarding a plane to the U.S. this time tomorrow. That I'll be leaving the country I have called "home" for the last eight weeks. Although two months is not a very long amount of time to live somewhere, I do believe that "live" is the right word. Our routines, comforts, and ways of life have been turned upside down. Slowly, we learned how to survive and eventually thrive in our new lives here. And it has been wonderful. Ghana is such a wonderful, welcoming country. I feel so safe here, that I sometimes forget I am in Africa. From the start, I figured this would be a special summer. Now that my time in Ghana has come to a close, I'm happy to look back on all of my days here and see that suspicion confirmed. And although I'm sure the reverse culture shock will be great, any adjustments, discomfort, or frustrations that I might experience were completely worth it for the new perspective that spending two months living in here has given me. And although I will go away from Ghana tomorrow evening, it will be a long time until Ghana has gone away from me.

School's Out for Summer

Well, yesterday officially marked my last day at the Aboom School. I finished working with the teachers last Thursday, but went back yesterday to have one final meeting with the teachers. All in all, I worked at the school for a little over six weeks. I am missing the students already, but know that life will continue both at the Aboom School and for me, although I'd like to think that we're both a little changed for the better.

On Thursday, I asked the final two teachers to lead a 30-minute music lesson completely independent of me. Of course, they did so beautifully, and I was able to just observe and take pictures and video. Each class has such a unique character, and making the transition from one to the other feels like stepping into two different worlds. The preschool class is fun, loud, and energetic. The students are totally at ease to be themselves, and they dance and play so creatively. On the other hand, the vocational class is a bit more reserved, but they are united. The sense of community between the students and with the teacher, Auntie Maggie, is so strong. She gently guides them through each activity, enabling each student to meet his or her potential, and each student's own personality shines through. I got some great videos and photos that I will use in my presentation at the AMTA National Conference in November.

After music, I gave all of the students silly bands and lollipops that I brought from home. Some of the students were actually afraid of the silly bands and others were chasing me around trying to grab more than one. One student put a lollipop in his mouth, made a disgusted face, and spit it out. I picked it up, rewrapped it, and put it in my free hand until I could get close to the trashcan. In the meantime, one of the girls with a particularly sweet tooth snuck up behind me and yanked the lone lollipop out of my hand. Before I could stop her, she had ripped off the paper and stuck it in her mouth. Midway through yanking it out of her mouth, I stopped, realizing that when you work with children, there are some things that you just can't get too upset about. I let her enjoy the rest of the lollipop and moved on.

When everyone had a silly band and lollipop, it was picture time. First, we took pictures of me with each classroom, teachers included. Next, we took pictures of me with Auntie Mary, the headmistress. After that, we gathered all of the teachers and teacher's aides and took a group picture. Then, at Auntie Mary's insistence, we filed all of the students and teachers outside to take one big group picture in front of the school.

Back inside, I hugged about three students a second as I waded into Mary's office to collect my bags. I think it increased to four students a second on my way out. I waved goodbye yet again and then headed out to check things off of my "To Do" list for our trip to Mole (see yesterday's post "Mole Mole Mole" to read about that!)

Yesterday I returned to the school for a final meeting with the teachers. Again, I took gifts and goodies with me. First of all, I finally got around to picking up a drum for the school. I was hesitant at first to buy a drum, and so I put it off. Then, once I could see where the program was going, I decided to just buy one nice djembe for them, which I did today. I also bought a beautiful orange and blue batiked bag to house it in. In addition, I took soaps and candies and postcards from OU for the teachers as a "thank you." Finally, I took four copies of the guidebook that I put together for the school, which explains (in detail) everything we talked about in our meetings, gives examples of activities to use, and suggestions for the future. I recorded any songs that I taught the teachers on my laptop and burned those to a CD. I made four copies to go along with the four guidebooks. Unfortunately, they weren't ready yet last Thursday, so I presented them today. I was humbled when Auntie Mary turned around and presented me with a laminated certificate of my own, which read, "Aboom School for Special Needs Certificate of Appreciation for Amy Dunlap. We express our sincere gratitude to you and for your volunteer service you rendered to us. You always make us happy anytime we have music. You always put a smile on our faces. We have nothing more to give than to say that we love you and we appreciate you. God richly bless you." And what they don't know is that he already has... by giving me the opportunity to get to work with and know them.

Mole Mole Mole

I realize that I am a few days (okay.. weeks) behind in my blogging. I have started a post for our trip to the Volta Region last weekend, but have yet to finish it. In the meantime, I did already chronicle our trip to Mole National Park this past weekend. I hope you enjoy! Surprise, surprise.. it's a little on the long end.

In early July, the group of Global Mamas travellers sat down and mapped out the travel plan for the remaining weekends. We started small with a day trip to Nzulezu, planned for the trip to the Volta Region the following weekend, and then, saving the best and biggest for last, we penciled in “MOLE” for the weekend of July 22 – 24.

From then on, I anticipated our trip to Mole. Around the house, Mole (pronounced mo-LAY) was a charged word, always getting a reaction. Some girls would say, “It’s gonna be so awesome. It’ll be worth all the driving once we get there.” Others would say, “Have patience! Take your iPod to keep you occupied when the transportation breaks down.” And still others would say, “I heard about some robberies up that way, so if you do go, don’t travel at night.” In the weeks leading up to Mole, I was a little wishy washy, and even considered not going. After all, I hadn’t spent a weekend in Elmina since June 24 – 26. I’d been working hard all week tying up loose ends at the school. I was tired and having trouble getting money from the bank. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with the hassle of getting all the way up there. In the end, I reminded myself, “It’ll be an adventure,” and went for it. I’m glad I did.

Mole National Park is in the northwestern part of Ghana. Although not quite as incredible (or expensive) as safaris in other parts of Africa, Mole is well known in Western Africa for its diverse animal population. What should be one of Ghana’s star attractions, Mole is not only really out of the way, but it is also really hard to get to. Using only public transportation, the one-way trip from Cape Coast to Mole would take 14 hours at the least.

Four of us packed up our things Thursday and began the journey after work that day. We decided to get the first leg, a three hour ride to Kumasi, out of the way that night in order to reach Mole by Friday night. Even though I had already finished my work at the school, the other girls could only miss one full day of work (Friday), plus a few hours on Monday if necessary. We stocked up on plantain chips and settled in for the trip to Kumasi, which was very smooth and uneventful. We reached Kumasi at a reasonable time and got a taxi to the Freeman Hotel, where we had made reservations earlier in the week.

Had I been in the U.S., I would have taken one look at the Freeman Hotel and walked (quickly) away. The building was nice enough, but dingy and dimly lit. The staff was very friendly, though, and after showing us our rooms, one of the guys drove us to a nearby restaurant and picked us up when we were finished.

Back at the hotel, it was nearly 11 pm. We split into groups of two, used the sink located in my room to get ready for bed, and said goodnight to each other. Jeannie and I shared one of the rooms while Pip and Emma took the other. I later felt bad, but was also glad to have chosen the one I did when the other girls said they were, or just imagined, being bothered by mosquitos all night. Exhausted from the week, I slept just fine. We woke up at 5 am in order to be out the door by 6, and we sleepily made peanut butter and banana sandwiches using the ingredients we brought with us. Surprisingly, we were checking out at 6 – right on time.

One of the guys from the hotel walked with us to the busy road to help us get a taxi. We told him we were trying to get a fast car or bus to Tamale and wanted to go to the Kejetia station. No problem. Soon we found a cab who only wanted 50 pesewas (30ish cents) each to take us there. Not complaining, we jumped in. Soon, he dropped us off at what was not the Kejetia tro-tro station, but a taxi station where we could get a different taxi to the actual tro-tro station. We were a little disgruntled, but found another one quickly, negotiated the price, and set off again. Soon, he dropped us off at a tro-tro station, and showed us a bus labeled “Tamale.” We thanked him and headed toward the ticket stand. On the way to buy our tickets, we noticed that the bus was huge (like a Greyhound), and very empty, even though the drivers were standing around promising us it would leave soon for Tamale. I knew that that bus wasn’t going anywhere until it was full. I also knew I didn’t want to be the first person on it and then have to wait for an hour or so for it to fill. We looked around for different options to Tamale, but there were none. I finally got to use some Twi and spoke to a man who admitted that the big bus wasn’t scheduled to leave until 1pm. It was 6:40 am at this point. He also admitted that this was not Kejetia station, but a different one with only one option for Tamale. Realizing we needed to go to yet another station, we negotiated with another taxi driver and set off for Kejetia.

The third time must be a charm, because the last driver took us to the right place with no problems. We soon found a bus similar to the one from last weekend labeled, “Tamale Express,” paid our 8.5 cedi ticket fare, and hopped on. The bus sat four across with two rows of two, and a row of five across the back. Thankfully that row was open, so we snagged it. Even though the driver told us we were leaving, “now, now, now!” at 7:00, we were still sitting there in the station at 7:45. The bus was already pretty full when we got on, but the passengers kept getting on and off, buying snacks, bringing them back to family members, and then leaving again to make a phone call. Knowing that we had a full day of travel ahead of us, we were antsy to get on the road. Finally, everyone took a seat and stayed in it and the engines started. We were all pretty packed in. Only then did even more people board the bus – holding stools. About twelve additional people packed in the aisle, plopping their stools down and settling in for the six hour ride to Tamale. Suddenly my cramped seat with a headrest didn’t seem so bad.

The trip to Tamale was long, yes. We stopped a few times for gas, snacks, and the other. Midway through the trip, the bus was trashed. Empty peanut shells, hardboiled egg shells, palm nuts and banana peels coated the floor. Afterward, I’m sure they had to clean out the inside Tom Dunlap style by taking a hose to it.

Finally, we made it to Tamale. If you look at a map of Ghana, you will see that we were pretty far north, which was obvious to us when we got out of the bus. Immediately after disembarking, one of us remarked, “Wow, it’s hot!” And even though the sun shone brighter and hotter, the humidity that plagues us in the south was absent. And while the south is predominantly Christian, the north is mostly Muslim. The streets were littered with mosques rather than churches and men wore caps and long dresses. The women in the north did not dress any differently than those in the south. In Tamale, we drove past a group of men kneeling for prayer outside of a mosque, which I thought was pretty neat. Travelling only to mostly Christian countries, I have never had the opportunity to experience anything like that before. Although we were only in Tamale for a short time, it was a pretty cool city. There were fewer cars and more bikes, especially motorbikes, often driven by women. The people were very respectful of us, and we managed to get out of Tamale without a marriage proposal.

In Tamale we had a decision to make. All of the tro-tros to Mole had left for the day. It was 2:15pm. We did not want to spend the rest of the day and night waiting for another tro-tro to leave. The road from Tamale to Mole was slow going, though, and if we wanted to make it before dark, we needed to leave soon. We finally decided to call one of the private companies in my guidebook and see what our options were. We settled on paying a decent amount to hire a driver with a 4x4 to take us the rest of the way.

Soon, we were in the truck heading toward Mole. We couldn’t get over how nice it was, even though it was no nicer than a typical pickup truck in the U.S. The automatic door locks and windows worked. The doors opened from the inside as well as the outside. The horn beeped when the driver pressed the steering wheel. In taxis, I often play “Find the Horn” with myself. I try to figure out which button might sound the horn in each car, because it is never just as easy as pressing the steering wheel, which probably broke long ago. Some of my favorite places for the horn include the windshield wipers, the button for the flashers, and the turning signal.

Pretty tired from the day, we sat mostly in quiet as we drove the dirt road to Mole. We passed a number of mud hut villages, which was also very cool. There were goats and cows everywhere along the road, and we had to swerve to miss them almost as much as we had to swerve to miss the gigantic potholes. The trip that takes between 4-8 hours in public transportation took only 2.5 in the truck. We made it safely to Mole in plenty of time to check in, watch the sunset, and order some dinner before taking a dip in the pool. I joked that I looked like an oompaloompa (sp?) after getting out of the car – my eyebrows, eyelids, and chin were covered with reddish dust from the road.

The Mole Motel was much nicer than our hotel in Kumasi. We had three beds in one room – two twins and a double – and our own bathroom with green toilet paper that smelled like Irish Spring soap. We had a decent meal at the hotel restaurant and hit the hay pretty early, all exhausted from the 10-hour day of travel.

On Saturday morning, we awoke at 5:30 to get ready for our safari. Earlier in the week, Pip had mentioned that she was really excited to see the “hogwarts,” aka warthogs. And see them we did. On Friday night, we were a little shocked when we saw our first warthog picking through the trash can near the check-in desk. We squealed, took pictures, and didn’t get too close. By Saturday morning, though, the hogwarts had lost their novelty, and we were all excited to see some different animals on the safari, which started at 7. Our group of four combined with some other small groups of German and Danish girls, met up with our tour guide, and headed off. Immediately, we began to see animals – baboons stealing things from the staff housing in the park, elephants eating from trees 30 feet away, and yes, more hogwarts.

The safari took us through the park, up and down hills, across streams, and finally, to the watering hole. We took a seat and waited patiently for animals to appear. It was a beautifully cloudy morning with a nice breeze. Unfortunately, that meant the crocodiles would not sun themselves near the hole, so we just had to live with the image of them sitting in the hole and waiting for someone to get too close before SNAP. Thankfully, no one got too close. Some elephants did show up, though, and we got to watch them drink from the hole, which was entertaining in itself. We sat for awhile, just watching, and letting the experience sink in. All in all we saw a good number of animals, including elephants, warthogs, baboons, another kind of monkey, and a bunch of antelope, which wasn’t bad considering Mole doesn’t even have giraffe or zebra or many of the other African animals one might find on a safari elsewhere. By the end of the safari, we were content with that we had seen and plenty ready for breakfast.

We spent the rest of the beautiful day (the clouds disappeared soon after breakfast) lying by the pool, reading, and listening to music. The weather has been cloudy in Elmina recently, so we took full advantage of the good “sun day.” We got a kick out of watching the baboons sneak up to the outdoor restaurant to steal things. The sugar bowls were a hot commodity and one guy even lost his breakfast omelet to the monkey. He was ticked, and I would have been too – the restaurant did not have particularly fast service. It’s likely he had to wait a long while for that breakfast to get stolen.

Rather than wait a long time for an expensive and non-traditional meal, we decided to order dinner from the staff canteen. Not only were the meals half as expensive and twice as big, they were much better, too! I ordered banku (basically a starch ball made out of yam and corn, I think) with groundnut soup, which they served sans utensils with a bowl of water for me to wash my hands before and after. We enjoyed our meals and the more laidback atmosphere and left dinner feeling satisfied.

We cleaned up and then headed back over to the restaurant for a beer and game of Bananagrams. We played for a while, enjoying the beautiful night and reflecting back on our other trips, finding it hard to believe that we were reaching the end of our last real trip together. I guess time flies when you’re having fun.

After weighing our options for getting home, we decided to just call our driver from Friday and ask him to take us clear to Kumasi. We really wanted to make it back to Cape in one day, and without a driver, that would be impossible. Although this option certainly did not save money, it did save time and frustration, so I was more than fine with it. We didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn, and I was looking forward to sleeping in.

“OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, GET UP!” From a deep sleep, I pulled myself out of bed with lightening speed. Extremely disoriented, I looked around to see what could have possibly made Emma yell like that. It wasn’t too long until I figured it out – an elephant was lazily grazing from the trees no more than 15 feet from our back porch. We threw on some clothes and scurried outside with our cameras, still rubbing sleep out of our eyes. The elephant hardly seemed to notice us snapping pictures and giggling in amazement. Bored with that tree, he turned around to face us, and I swear, if I had tried, I could have reached out and touched his trunk. But considering we weren’t technically supposed to be any closer than 50 meters from the elephants, I wasn’t going to push my luck. We watched him for a long time as he munched, and soon, other people noticed him as well, coming out of their rooms to oogle.

Still amazed at what we had seen, we packed up our things and headed to breakfast. Our driver arrived soon after, and we were on the road again. Our trip from Mole to Kumasi took only six hours, which was nice. We got to Kumasi in plenty of time to grab some snacks and get a tro-tro back to Cape. By this time, we were completely ready to be home, and the 3.5 hour trip was fine, but plenty long. I tried to sleep, but couldn’t help but be a little grossed out each time we turned a corner and a stream of water rained down on my leg from the air conditioner. Our driver kept proposing to me and calling me “wife.” He even offered to give me a massage, which grossed me out just as much as the air conditioning fluids.

Finally, we made it to Elmina around 9:30pm and inhaled the dinner Eli had so graciously packaged up for us earlier in the day. It wasn’t long before we all passed out, still in awe of how sitting in a car for 10+ hours could make me so tired. All in all, it was a really great weekend and I was almost surprised by how smoothly it went. I have really loved travelling around Ghana, but am also really enjoying just relaxing in Elmina this week.

Early Sunday morning

A watering hole at Mole National Park

Me, Pip, Emma, and Jeannie on our walking safari

Progress

I do apologize for being a blog slacker this week. Between a bad Internet connection and busy days, the week flew by. I cannot believe it is already Thursday evening and that I haven’t written a post since Sunday. Erin is rubbing off on me! ;)

Things are going wonderfully at the school. This week was definitely a rewarding one. All of the hard work from the last year and even the last six weeks is finally paying off, and in a big way. We had two very productive teacher training sessions and two promising days of music. I’m proud to say that I did not lead a single activity today – the teachers took turns leading them all.

School is technically finished on July 27, but I have only made plans through next Friday, July 22^nd. I figure it is best to leave some wiggle room towards the end, just in case things don’t go as planned (imagine that!). I cannot remember a day at the school that went as I had planned. It’s been a great lesson in patience and flexibility. For that I am grateful. As it stands now, the individual teachers will each lead two 30-minute music lessons next week. They have now lead up to four activities in one lesson, so making the transition from co-leading to leading the entire thing should not be too difficult for them.

I was so proud of the teachers today. I could finally see all of the seeds that I have planted sprouting. All of the pieces are coming together. I can finally picture this whole thing being just fine, flourishing even, without me. With the confidence they have gained in the last few weeks, each teacher brought something new and creative to today’s lesson. The teachers and students were alive, right there in the moment, making music together. For example:

One teacher told me she wasn’t feeling well, yet she went through with the lesson anyway, and beautifully. She left her austere self at her desk and as she led the students in a dance was suddenly transformed into a peer; she led the activity with enthusiasm and intuitive creativity – keeping the students engaged by varying her volume and intensity, just as we talked about in the meetings. I attached a video below!

Another teacher exhibited improvisation that I as a third year music therapy student can only dream of. I don’t mean improvisation in an instrumental way. Rather, she took a good activity, and created something new from it on the spot. She transformed an “interactive singing” experience into a full on party. First, she led the group in singing the song a few times. Then, wordlessly, she created a train, with all the students following her around the room. Here, she changed her gait, swaying to the music as she walked, which the students copied. She created a circle from the train, passed out tambourines to everyone, and then danced in the middle. From there, she encouraged each student to bring his tambourine into the circle, enabling him to play, dance, and create with the support of his friends and mentors visibly surrounding him. I was blown away.

I was beaming at the end of each lesson, and the teachers could feel it too. They immediately asked me, “What did you think?” but they already knew the answer. Music was being made at the Aboom School for Special Needs Children today.

Believe it or not, we head back to the U.S. three weeks from tomorrow. I know I said I had something special planned for my halfway point last week, but in the excitement of last weekend, I did not have a chance to post it. I did take some time to assemble my thoughts last Friday. I took a step back, reassessed how I have been spending my time here, made a list of the things I still want to do. Took note of all I have done and seen here so far. I made two other lists: “Things I Love About Ghana” and “Things I Love About the U.S.” In no particular order, here they are:

Things I Love About Ghana:

Fresh fruit, especially pineapple

Eli’s cooking

Water sachets

Market shopping – cheap, local food everywhere!

The “Don’t Rush” mentality

Our big, loud fan

Using a gas stove

The ocean

Running, walking, reading, and eating outside

Cheap and abundant public transportation

The Global Mamas = great friends

Happy Ghanaians

Beautiful, breezy evenings

Early morning runs

Things I Love About the U.S.:

Ice cubes

A washer and dryer

WiFi – in my house!

Stable electricity

Trash collection

Air conditioning

Friends and family and dogs

Liquid dish soap

Full length mirrors

Tom’s of Maine toothpaste

Green vegetables

Tap water

Vegan cookies

My piano

Seatbelts

Blending things a.k.a. smoothies

Hot water showers

Cooking for myself

We have a big trip planned for this weekend. The five of us who made it to Nzulezo and back last week are at it again. We plan to leave Elmina by 7 a.m. tomorrow morning and return late Sunday night. I won’t jinx our plans by putting them on here, but am hopeful that Monday’s post will be an exciting one.

Worst Case Scenario...

“…we sleep in this canoe.”

No, I did not spend the night in a canoe this weekend, but there were a few times when I thought our “day trip” might come to that. But more on that later. P.S. This could be a long one.

I had a great weekend of travel. I left Elmina on Friday afternoon, heading for Takoradi. The capital of the Western Region, Takoradi (and its twin city Sekondi) are about 50 miles west of Cape Coast. I grabbed some lunch and then made my way to the tro-tro station. I bought my ticket for 3 cedi or so ($2), and clambered into my first real tro-tro (I think I described these in the post from last weekend. Basically a tro-tro is a large van that transports people from one point to the other very cheaply. You can pick them up along the side of the road, or at a station if you want to ensure yourself a seat). I have seen some tro-tros that look so stuffed full of people that I get uncomfortable just looking at them. Thankfully, once everyone had a seat, we took off, and didn’t try to fit anyone else in.

I think I have mentioned how very religious Ghanaians are in previous posts. Often, stands and shops will have names like, “God Willing Fast Food,” or “Jesus is Life Electrical Supplies.” Cars and tro-tros have vinyl stickers on their back windows that say things like, “Pray more,” or “John 3:16.” And as I (and 12 othes) sat in the tro-tro waiting to depart for Takoradi, a young man with a bible came up to the open door, opened it on an empty seat, and began to preach in Fante. I knew that he would be expecting money, and in any unfamiliar situation, I’ve learned that you can kind of look like you know what you’re doing if you just watch the locals and take your cues from them. Looking around the tro, I saw people texting, making phone calls, eating snacks, looking out the window, basically doing anything but looking at the travelling evangelist. Even though he was speaking in Fante, I could pick out some words, like “Nyame” which means God, “nhyira” which means blessings, and “akwantuo” which means journey. He read a bit from the bible, and continued to preach, gaining enthusiasm (and volume) as he went.

Finally, he began to pray, and I think someone even answered a phone call during his prayer. Surprisingly, though, when he said, “Amen,” the whole tro responded with a resounding, “Amen!” Arms from every direction reached toward him, dropping coins into his hands. Even though I didn’t understand every word, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together and realize that he was praying for safe travels to Takoradi. I reached in my bag and grabbed a few pesewas to give him, appreciating the well wishes that were to follow me on my first tro ride. As I did, he looked me straight in the eye, and emphatically said/yelled, “God bless you! God bless you today and all of your days in Ghana.” I was a little shocked mumbled, “Thank you.” The large, older man next to me started to laugh, and said something in Fante, and I was able to get the gist. He was laughing because I paid the man even though I couldn’t possibly understand a word of Fante. I responded, “Mete Fante kakra,” meaning I understand a little bit of Fante. This time he was the one who was surprised. He surveyed me and in Fante asked me what “Nyame nhyira” meant. Anyone who can scroll back up to the top of this paragraph can guess what I told him. Satisfied, he nodded his head, and was pretty helpful for the rest of the tro ride, especially when I needed help getting off at the right stop in Takoradi.

The tro ride was fairly comfortable, even if it did take a while. We got stuck in some traffic going into Takoradi, which made for a two-hour ride. We also had to make a stop so that two or three passengers could get out and pop a squat next to the tro. I was reminded of those humiliating days as a kid when my parents would grow tired of my complaining and pull off the highway so I could take care of business. At least then I would hide behind the family van with my mom reassuring me that no one could see. This was somewhat different, though, as women and men, young and old, joined in the fun. The joys of living in a country where people really don’t care what others think of them.

Once in Takoradi, I met up with my Twi professor Bridget’s younger sister, Naomi. We immediately went to a restaurant to eat some dinner, and had a great conversation. Naomi is 22, and just finished college at the University of Cape Coast where she studied psychology. A beautiful and bubbly girl, we had a great time walking around Takoradi together, chatting about hair, cooking, men, and shopping. We picked up some groceries at the market and took a cab heading out of town to their home. Once there, I met Bridget’s mom, Vivian, her younger cousin, Michael Justice, and the family dog Lucky. They ushered me inside and began the doting process. In just a few minutes, I felt like I’d known them forever, and we chatted with ease. I unpacked the gifts that Bridget sent for them, and gave them some postcards of OU that I brought along with me. They wanted to know the names of all of the buildings, if Bridget or I had classes there, etc. Soon, their seamstress showed up to take my measurements. Vivian insisted on having some traditional Ghanaian outfits made for me, which is exciting. I will go back again before I head home to pick them up and visit again.

When the seamstress left, Naomi popped in one of her favorite Ghanaian movies, “Who Loves Me.” It was a two-part movie, which lasted about three hours in total, and was chock-full of crying and forbidden love, with heart failure thrown in for good measure. We snacked on fresh mango and guarana soda, enjoying the night. When the movie finished around midnight, we headed to bed. I was so tired, because embarrassingly, I am in bed by 10pm every night during the week. I shared a room with Naomi, and fell quickly to sleep.

The next morning, we got up pretty early. The plan was to meet four Global Mamas volunteers (Erin, Emma, Kara, and Jeannie) at the tro-tro station at 9:30. We decided to take a day trip to a small village about two hours west of Takoradi called Nzulezo. Nzulezo is a 600-year-old village built on stilts over a lake. The legend is that a civil war in Mali caused one group of people to flee to Ghana. Since they did not own land in Ghana, they built their village on the water. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and even though it is a way off the beaten path, it is still a bit of a tourist attraction. The village can be reached only by a 45-minute canoe ride one way. A (supposedly) 3-hour drive from Cape, we decided to tackle it in one day.

After a large breakfast, I said goodbye to Vivian and Justice. Naomi and I headed into town and to the tro-tro station. We waited just a few minutes for the girls coming from Elmina, and with Naomi’s help, bought our tickets. We found our way onto the right tro – headed for Beyin. Nzulezo is situated a few miles from this small village, not far from Ghana’s western border with the Ivory Coast. When the tro-tro filled up, we pulled out. It was about 11:30 at this point. Some of the girls munched on the peanut butter sandwiches they brought from home. We realized that we were a bit behind our schedule, but weren’t too worried. I settled in with a new book, occasionally looking up to take in the dense, rural scenery.

The two-hour tro ride turned into three. We turned off the main (paved) road and onto a very rugged, very unpaved road. We slowed to about 5-10 mph to avoid blowing a tire or running over a child or chicken, both of which were running wild in the small villages we passed. For nearly an hour we travelled this way until finally, we arrived in Beyin, 2.5 hours later than we were hoping. Following a very old, very faded sign for the Nzulezo Registration Center, we scampered inside the old building to avoid the rain that was again falling (as it already had many times throughout the day).

We had already started to worry about how late we were arriving in Beyin, and when they told us we would have to wait two hours for a canoe, we had to have a “pow wow.” Having come this far, we were definitely not turning back, but we also didn’t think we had enough money between us to spend the night at the “beach resort” (that term is thrown around loosely here) in town. The employees told us we would have no problem getting a tro-tro back to Takoradi if we could find our way back to the main road. We arranged a ride with a taxi driver, who agreed to take us there when we returned from the village. After only 30 minutes of waiting around, they announced that it was time to go get a canoe. We gathered up our bags, I put the hood up on my raincoat, and headed out.

The lagoon with a manmade canal to the lake was just across the street. There was a small building with benches and a small loading area. We soon realized the reason for the lack of canoes. A school group of 40+ had arrived just an hour before we. Each canoe could hold only six visitors plus one guide. No one seemed to know how to get in line for the next canoe, and people were everywhere. Some guy who worked there told us to follow him, and we did, walking along the canal on a small, dirt path through the wetlands. It was like the blind leading the blind, and unfortunately, I was in front. We could see more school uniforms up ahead, so we kept walking. Sometimes canoes would pass us, and we would get excited, but none of them were for us.

The guy ran ahead to see if there were any canoes for us. There weren’t. He told us to wait there, and ran back to the original loading place in search of canoes. It had started to rain again, and we all stood there, wet, hungry, tired, and a little confused, waiting for a boat. It was already 4pm. About this time, we started the “worst case scenario” business. Since our scenario had already worsened with the onset of a fresh rain, we were trying to console ourselves by thinking of ways it could, but most likely would not, get worse.

“Worst case scenario, we never get a boat and have to go home,” one of us said.

“I think the worst case scenario would be getting a boat and then flipping it.”

“No..worst case scenario, we do get a boat, but get stuck in the village and have to sleep there,” said another.

“I think the worst case scenario would be having to sleep in one of the canoes,” someone else added.

“How about this. Worst case scenario, we have to spend the night in one of the villages we drove past. I can just see them saying, ‘Obruni! My favorite!’ and then choosing one of us to roast on a spit.”

We laughed. The rain fell harder, faster. Referencing the song I mentioned a few days ago, one of us sighed, “I love my life!”

Nearby, the school kids heard that exclamation, and burst into a fit of giggles. One of the students pulled up the song on his phone, and soon, they were walking over to us, the song blaring, and saying, “Obrunis! Let’s dance. I love my life!” We indulged them in the slightest, but they were satisfied, and headed back over to the rest of the pack. Soon, our guy was back, and with a canoe. Gingerly, we piled in, trying not to flip. I had some canoeing experience growing up, but it was nothing like this. First of all, the canoe was wooden, clearly made from the hollowed out trunk of a tree. It sat very low in the water. With six of us in there, I think there was about two inches between the water and the rim of our boat. Emma sat in the front, and we couldn’t help but laugh when our guide told her she had to paddle, too. We made a mental note to write the guidebook, making sure they include in the next edition that this destination is a “paddle yourself” destination. “I didn’t sign up for this!” she joked. “You’re doing a great job, Pocahontas,” I said.

Once we were in the canoe on our way, it was a beautiful trip. We went through dense jungles, and then out emptied out into a large lake, with the Nzulezo “skyline” in the distance. Soon, we were there, just as gingerly crawling out of the canoe. Our guide gave us a small tour of the small village. Once in the village, you wouldn’t really know it was built on the river. The small buildings were connected by sidewalks/roads made of wooden planks. Surprisingly, 450 people live there now. They have a school, a church, and some tiny drinking spots (bars), which were undoubtedly built to accommodate tourists. Even though there were a lot of canoes going to and from, the village wasn’t crawling with visitors, cameras, or fanny packs. Locals were carrying on with life, getting haircuts, pounding fufu, and some kids were even wrestling. In fact, there were kids everywhere. Our guide announced that due to the lack of electricity in the village, people go to bed very early. We didn’t really get it, until he added, “That’s the reason for all of the kids.”

Aware of the time passing, we didn’t stay in Nzulezo too long, but we didn’t need to. Once there, there’s not much to see. The canoe ride there is just as memorable, if not more so. We piled back in the canoe, and headed toward Beyin. On our way back, canoes of school kids kept passing us, and from each one we would hear someone yell out, “I love my life!” Or, “Hello, Obrunis. You love your life?” We laughed, continuing back toward land.

Unfortunately, I was the last one in the canoe on the way back, which gave me the unique pleasure of being in charge of scooping water out of the bottom. Toward the back, there was a surprising amount of water in the bottom; definitely enough to soak my feet. I scooped and scooped, realizing that if the canoe wobbled too far to the left that a jet of water would pour in through a small hole near the top. Every time I got most of the water out, we would inevitably wobble to the left, and in the water would come. I was reminded of the boy who stuck his finger in the dam, and the feeling heightened when the guide said, “Keep scooping. Our lives are in your hands.” Thankfully, he liked to joke.

The night was beautiful, with big clouds in the distance and a cool fog settling over the lagoon, the sun nearing the horizon and bathing us in dusk. I took a break from scooping to take a slow, deep breath, basking in the beauty. The moment didn’t last long, however. Soon, the raindrops started to fall. Slowly, lightly, and then fast and hard. Only two of us had raincoats, and we squealed as we sat there, unable to do nothing but get soaked. I scooped and scooped, but knew I was fighting an uphill battle. Not only were we wobbling more than ever in our haste, the rain was falling fast. Scoop scoop scoop. Water everywhere. I felt like a kid at the mall who was trying to run up the down escalator just to see if they could make it to the top. It was kind of a pointless fight, but I did my best, and soon we made it back to the land with no problems, other than being wet and cold.

We paid our guide, used the washroom (I changed into dry clothes), and were on our way. The trip back to the main road took a long, long time, but finally, we made it. We easily found a tro-tro to take us to Takoradi. I don’t really remember the trip after that point – I was too tired and hungry. We all were. I had eaten my peanut butter sandwich hours earlier. Sixteen hours into the day, I had only eaten three pieces of toast and peanut butter, a glass of juice, a peanut butter sandwich, and a chocolate chip Clif bar. We didn’t stop to buy any snacks just in case we needed to pool our money together and get a hotel room. Thankfully, it didn’t come close to that.

Only once we made it safely back to Elmina around 11pm did we eat. Emma and I called some of the other girls and asked them to get us some carry out, and the other girls got egg sandwiches across the street. Ironically, when we returned home, exhausted, we were met with a huge crowd. The usually quiet Elmina was hopping, not unlike Court Street on Halloween or Homecoming Weekend. People were everywhere, and obviously having a good time. The rain was still falling, but the partygoers seemed not to notice. We gathered all of our energy to go out for a drink with Eli, but immediately went home after we realized she was not coming. It was quite a scene, and if we had not been completely out of it from the trip, I think we would have really enjoyed ourselves. Around 1am, I was out cold, oblivious to the music pounding from the speakers on the street. I don’t think I’ve had a better night of sleep in months.

Unfortunately, I am experiencing some technical difficulties with my card reader, so I can’t put any pictures on here yet. I’m going to try to get that figured out this week. I got some really beautiful ones, and feel that Nzulezo can't really be understood without seeing it. Thanks for reading the lengthy post. I promise, no more this long for a while.

An Aboom Update

I picked up my new skirt at the seamstress' shop today. I attached my best attempt at a self portrait. The blue mosquito net is Erin's, and the white one is mine, and the door on the right is my part of the closet. The door on the left leads to the hallway with two bathrooms, three other bedrooms, and a door to the balcony. Maybe I'll do a video tour of our house sometime. It's really big, and kind of cozy despite the cement floors and cracked paint on the walls.

I realized that it's been a while since I really talked about my work at the school (other than, "Today I went to school and then lunch," type stuff). I figured today would be a good day to fill you in a bit.

This week was a great one at the school. Today, the teachers led their first music activity during our lesson. I wasn't really sure how it would go considering some of the teacher trainings have been rescheduled recently due to Mary's travels to Accra and Winneba. But, not surprisingly, the teachers all had a natural presence when singing and dancing with the students. They brought in some more traditional songs and even did some improvising, which was very encouraging. I am starting to see all the pieces fall into place for the music program, and I have a good feeling about it. Things have definitely changed from the plan I had coming in, but that is to be expected. I can already see how the music is benefitting the students and bringing life to the school. As one of the teachers said yesterday during our meeting, "Music is good for the soul." It is so nice to be working with teachers who realize the importance of music in the classroom, even if it did take a few weeks for us to get used to working together.

I have started to put together the handbook that I will leave with the teachers when I leave. In the next few weeks, that will be my main focus outside of the school. We still haven't heard if vacation will start on time (July 29) or a week early. But they do vacate a week early, that leaves only two more weeks in the school! We have a lot left to do, but we're on a roll now. I hope to take some video of the teachers and students during the music lessons next week, that I will hopefully be able to post on the blog. Fingers crossed.

Did anyone try to watch the video from my last post? If so, did you have any problems watching it? Please email me or leave a comment if you did have a hard time, and I'll try to fix it.

Tomorrow is my halfway point. I'm already planning a special post for it.

Edina Bakatue Festival

Yesterday marked the beginning of the new fishing season in Elmina. To celebrate (because in Ghana, we always celebrate!), the local villages have a five-day festival called Edina Bakatue. The opening ceremonies were yesterday, the first Tuesday in July. Basically, all of the local chiefs and chief priests and priestesses, etc., travel to Elmina for the festival, which starts with a parade into town. Each chief was carried into town on the heads of members of that village, and as they traveled into town, locals would run up and pour wine or wave cloths at their feet. We caught up with the parade and followed it toward the lagoon, where the ceremonies took place. I attached a video of one of the chief's posse celebrating as they carried him in the parade. (I hope it works..)

The parade emptied into the lagoon area. We managed to perch ourselves on the front of a huge, parked, fishing boat that overlooked the lagoon. While the crowd waited for the chiefs to sacrifice food to thank the water for providing food, locals had canoe races and the people drove boats around that represented each village. We waited for a looong time for the ceremony to start. Thinking it would be a bit more of a wait, I went with some girls to go get a drink. We asked our friend to give us a call if anything was happening. In 10 minutes, she called to say it was all over and she was coming to find us. Apparently, the actual ceremony wasn't that long, and just consisted of the priests casting fishing nets into the lagoon three times. If the nets catch fish all three times, it's believed to be an omen for a good season. It's going to be a good time here in Elmina, because they caught fish all three times. Heading home, we got caught in the parade exiting the lagoon, which had replaced the chiefs with brass bands and "merry" Ghanaians, who by this point, had been celebrating all day.

Music from the festival blasted long into the night, but all was back to normal on our run this morning. We did see some people cleaning up their yards, which reminded me of the crews cleaning up Court Street in Athens on November 1st every year. We had a great time, even if I did manage to get a royal sunburn and found myself trapped in a party boy circle (I'll let you Google that on your own if you don't know what it is...) I really enjoyed getting a glimpse of the local traditions - this festival has been happening for hundreds of years. A town that at times seems pretty Westernized was rich in heritage yesterday, a reminder that I am definitely still in Africa.

An Expat 4th of July

It did seem strange waking up on the 4th of July and going to school. For the first 18 years of my life, the 4th of July was just another day for going to the pool, eating corn on the cob, and enjoying the freedoms of summer (oh yeah, and America, too). Even after I went to college and had summer jobs, I never had to work that day. So heading off to school like it was just another Monday was kind of difficult. Granted, we did our best to rally our pieces of red, white, or blue clothing, but still, the American spirit was really only to be found in our hearts. And even though Ghanaians adore Barack Obama, I don't think anyone had a clue it was our country's birthday. And why should they, really? But still, it made for a most interesting day of mixed emotions.

I arrived at school to find six new volunteers from the states. It felt strange to welcome them into the school, because they were clearly looking at me as a seasoned veteran, just the way I looked at the other volunteers my first week. I remember asking the volunteers (who have all left now), "How long have you been here?" When they said, "Three weeks," I felt like that was a lifetime, and that I would never know as much about the school as they. But when the new girls asked me, "How long have you been here?" and I said, "This is the start of my fourth week," I wanted to tell them, "No, I don't have it all figured out!" or "I know it sounds like a long time, but really, I'm still new here, too." Their arrival helped me put my time at the school into perspective, realizing that every day counts. I did tell the other volunteers not to get frustrated; "You will have good days and you will have bad days." That's what the volunteers told me when I got here, and that might be the truest statement anyone has said to me in the last month. Thankfully, I had a pretty successful music lesson with both classes, which put a good vibe on the day and week.

I needed to get some money exchanged downtown, so I went to Baobab for lunch, where I met up with two of the other Global Mamas volunteers. With fresh fruit or toast for breakfast, and Eli's creations for dinner, lunch is the hardest meal to eat here. Any day I can make it to an actual restuarant for lunch is a good day, especially one that serves garlic mushroom and avocado sandwiches.

Rather than burden Eli with trying to make an American feast, we decided to go to one of the beach resorts in Cape, Oasis, for a nice dinner. Around 5pm, I met the girls at the Global Mamas office as they were finishing up for the day, and we headed over to Oasis. When we got there, a group of four men were drumming, which I loved. Three of the men were clearly Ghanaian, and the fourth was a tall, gangly white guy. "One of these things is not like the other," I sang quietly to my end of the table. All jokes aside, the white guy knew what he was doing, and I was very impressed.

Most of the girls ordered burgers and fries. Emma, the other vegan, and I split a vegetable pizza and order of fries. Our waiter brought us a bottle of Heinz (yes, Heinz!) ketchup, which we nearly devoured between the nine of us. The full bottle was about 1/4 full when we finished. We ended up not being the only Americans to go out to celebrate; nearly every table around us was full of Obrunis eating fries and drinking beer.

We sat around a talked for a while, recalling past 4th of Julys and wondering what our friends and family were up to. When we finished dinner around 8:30, it seemed strange to think that the real fun hadn't even begun back home. We left dinner singing every patriotic song we could think of. I wonder what the Ghanaians thought as nine white girls walked through the streets singing "The Star Spangled Banner" at the top of their lungs. By the time we made it to the taxis, we had been through "America the Beautiful," Yankee Doodle," "Proud to be an American" (twice), "You're a Grand Old Flag," and the rap of the states that both Erin and I learned in 3rd grade with Mr. Bean ("I can do a rap of the map of the U.S., starting with the A's alphabetically..." yeah.)

I have never been one to describe myself as patriotic. Try as I might every year to make myself appreciate the freedoms we have that others could never imagine, I could never really wrap my head around it. It took spending Independence Day in a foreign country to really understand the depth of the freedoms and opportunities America can provide us because of one day, hundreds of years ago. And although I don't think that we will do anything special to celebrate the 4th of July next year, I do think that it will be a special day for me as I think back to the previous Independence Day that I spent in Ghana, and remember it fondly.

Uptown Girls

I have decided that I will no longer post weekend plans on the blog before they actually happen. For two weekends in a row, the plans I mentioned in Thursday night's post were not the plans that we actually went through with.

Case and point - We never made it to the Volta Region this weekend. Two out of the six of us (myself included) got sick on Thursday and were not up to the 10-hour day of travel on Friday. We quickly reevaluated, and the remaining four decided to stay back so that we could a) all go to the Volta Region together another weekend, and b) continue to take weekend trips together as a group, rather than have us all on different schedules for the weekends.

Maybe I should say a little bit about the girls I live with. When I got here, there were about 12 of us in the house. Now, three have left, one is traveling for work, and we gained one more. Including two full-time Global Mamas employees, we have 10 girls in our house. Two of the volunteers are older than we, are here longer, and have already been to a lot of the places we are now visiting. So, that leaves us with a solid group of six for weekend trips from here on out. Four of us are entering our last year of undergrad, and the other two (including Erin) just finished undergrad. Four of us leave Ghana within three days of each other. Needless to say, by the time August rolls around, we are going to be pretty used to each other.

I digress. We made the executive decision to stay in Elmina on Friday and then travel to Accra and stay the night on Saturday. July 1st (Friday) is Republic Day in Ghana and the beach resort had been advertising a huge celebration for weeks. When we headed over to lunch at the resort around 1pm, the party had already started. From the restaurant in the hotel, we could see the pool, which, to quote Erin, looked like spring break. The usually desolate pool was full of bodies - bobbing to the music blaring from a nearby DJ booth. We discovered that the celebrity performances adversited on the huge posters were to take place at 4pm and 10pm. Still not feeling well, I did some reading and napping, waiting for 10pm to come. We ended up going across the street to Sea Top (general store that doubles as a bar) to kill some time. Ten pm came and went before we headed over to the beach resort to see if we could get a glimpse of some Ghanaian celebs. In typical Ghanaian fashion, the bouncer at the door told us they would not even be performing until midnight. The cover charge was 10 cedi (almost $7). Still wiped out from being sick, I decided to spent my 10 cedi on something better in Accra the next day, and called it a night along with Kara. The others stayed up to see the show, although the accounts from the next morning ("How was it?" "Eh. It was okay.") did not make me feel bad for going home early.

Saturday morning, we headed for Cape shortly after breakfast, where we picked up a fast van bound for Accra. Ghana offers multiple options for transportation. Never have I seen so many taxis zooming up and down the streets. However, taxis can be expensive, especially when traveling. There are public busses (STC busses) that travel between most large cities for a reasonable price. These are pretty comparable to chartered busses that we have in the U.S. One phenomenom that we do not have in the U.S., however, is the tro-tro. These large, overcrowded vans (often Mercedes, but OLD) are nearly as prevalent as taxis, and are probably the most popular way to travel across Ghana. People - moms, babies, grandfathers, businessmen, and the occasional Obruni - pile into the vans, strap belongings to the roof, and set off. I think of what a group of hippies taking a Volkswagen Bus to Woodstock might have looked like. The two can't be too far off.

I have not yet ridden in a tro-tro for multiple reasons, one of them being comfort. Thankfully, there are a number of 15ish-seater Ford vans (called fast cars) that are cheap like tro-tros, but have air conditioning. Another plus is that the fast car can stop to drop people off, but it will not pick anyone up once departing, which saves a lot of time. We were able to make the usually 3-hour trip to Accra in 2 and a half hours on Saturday. Depending on traffic, this trip can take up to 4 or 5 hours! We were thrilled to make it there so smoothly.

Although I have only been in Elmina for three weeks, I was looking so forward to our little visit to Accra. Even though I prefer living in Cape to Accra, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the shopping trips that my mom and her friends, and now me and my friends, take to Columbus as we headed toward Accra. In Cape, we rarely eat out (this doesn’t count Eli’s). “Shopping” consists of bargaining with street vendors. We sometimes go to the nearby Shell station to splurge on British crackers or candy bars. Life in Elmina is good, but it is by no means luxurious. In Accra, however, we planned to go to real restaurants, shop at a real mall, and splurge on foreign imports at Koala grocery store.

We reached Accra mid-day on Saturday. Hungry from the trip, we went to the place with great smoothies that I also went to my first weekend here. Unfortunately, they were out of avocados, so I couldn’t have the “Avocado Dream” smoothie. I went instead for the “Turbulent Passion” smoothie, which was an anticlimactic blend of banana and chocolate. After lunch we headed for the mall, remarking how much we felt like 17-year-old girls again.

The Accra Mall is probably the only mall in Ghana. We felt like kids in a candy store as we walked in, stepping gingerly on the white linoleum, pinching ourselves to make sure we were really going “shopping.” It even smelled like a mall. Well, it turns out that although the Accra Mall was very nice and fancy, the majority of the stores were selling things that we really did not need – expensive jewelry, bridal gowns, and interior decorations. They did have a Levi’s, Puma, and Swatch store, which seemed strange. We spent some time walking around and making sure there weren’t any stores we wanted to visit and then headed out. Some interesting items at the mall include:

-Used Old Navy flip-flops for 65 cedi ($40ish). These sell for $3 at home.

-Used Banana Republic leather flats also for 65 cedi. These sell for $80+ at home.

-Cheap swimming goggles for 30 cedi ($20)

-Birkenstocks (I didn’t want to check the price in case I decided to buy them. I had to leave mine at home and am missing them big time)

-A book called “Abraham Lincoln: The Civil War President”

-A bottle of Pantene Pro-V shampoo for 15 cedi ($10)

-Living in a small fishing town, we are not used to looking fancy. I’m pretty sure the majority of us brought only one outfit for the weekend – the one on our backs. In Accra, people make much more of an effort to be presentable, though. We saw a lot more high heels, “bling,” and handbags than we are used to.

I’ve mentioned that Ghana is not a country of strict traffic laws. Up to this point, our group of six was able to travel as one. We had our system for piling into taxis down: four in the back, two in the front, unspoken assigned seats. Mine was the right side of the front seat. Leaving the mall, though, we actually got pulled over for what the policeman called an “overload.” Apparently taxis are officially not allowed to have two people in the front seat. We had to split up, but all reconvened at the Global Mamas store in Osu. Not surprisingly, I spent a good bit of money there, with which I got two dresses, a cookbook (Eli’s recipes), small draw string bags to hold egg shakers at the school, and a basket to hold the “things” that clutter my room.

Next we walked over to the fancy grocery store Koala, which is full of novelties like cheese, dark chocolate, and whole wheat pasta. I was hoping to find some granola bars, but the closest thing they had was Nutri-Grain cereal bars for more than $1 each. It is a good thing I don’t live in Accra, though, because I have a feeling that after a while, I’d bite the bullet go to Koala on a regular basis. Leaving Koala, we were all laughing while imagining our first trips to the grocery stores back home. We decided that we will both be in shock (of the high prices) and awe (of the variety).

Too tired to head out to dinner at 9pm, we decided to order in from an Indian restaurant called Tandoor. All of the full time employees drool at the mention of it, and I know why. We felt almost human again as we sat in an air conditioned living room, watched “Brokeback Mountain” on a real TV, and ate delicious food out of take out containers. It was a good night.

In the hopes of spending some time at the pool on Sunday, we got up and headed back to Cape just after breakfast (smoothies at Melting Moments again!). Ignoring the warning we received the night before, all six of us piled in a taxi and headed to the fast car station. Like at home, Ghanaian radio stations like to play a lot of the same popular songs over and over again. One of these, “I Love My Life,” has become a group favorite, and probably my theme song for the summer. Ironically, as we headed toward the station, it came on the radio, and we couldn’t help but all sing along.

We made it back to Elmina without a hitch, and in record time – two hours. It was raining, so our hopes of a day at the pool were crushed. After a dinner of groundnut soup at Eli’s, we got ready for the week ahead and crashed early. Although it wasn’t the weekend we were expecting on Thursday night, it was a pretty good one, and I’m already dreading saying goodbye to this group of girls.

Girls night in Accra. From left: Pip, Kara, Emma, Erin, and Jeannie.

Celebrating Republic Day outside of the beach resort.

Day 20

After a successful teacher training session on Tuesday, I was also looking forward to today's. I got up extra early and made oatmeal with the oats and soymilk I splurged on yesterday. I sat out on the balcony and worked, enjoying the cool breeze that has been with us all week. I am currently working on a handbook, which will basically be a reference for the teachers if they have any questions about the program when I leave. Also, in the likely event that positions switch hands at the school, new teachers will be able to teach themselves how to lead music lessons with the students.

By now I have figured out that it is nearly impossible to have an uneventful taxi ride in Ghana. This morning was no exception. Trying to get a cab after the "rush hour" when people are going to work can be difficult. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I don't need to be at the school until 10:30. Prepared for a long wait, I headed out to the highway to wave one down. It's become habit to point behind me toward the ocean (the signal that you are heading to Cape) as soon as I see the yellow 'Taxi" sign coming towards me. As soon as the taxi, which was now slowing down to pick me up, came close enough, I wished I hadn't found one so quickly. Out of the trunk stuck at least 3 feet of wooden poles - there had to be 8 or 9. The Ghanaian in the passenger's seat was holding another one out the window. Surprisingly, once inside the taxi, I kind of forgot they were even there... until they nearly clotheslined (definition #1) a poor kid on a bicycle that we were passing. The thing that got me the most, though, was the fact that when the passenger in the front seat got out, he only took the pole that he had been carrying. It wasn't for another five minutes that the rest of the poles left the trunk along with the guy sitting next to me in the back. I honestly don't think the two "woods-men" knew each other. Just a regular taxi ride in Ghana.

I got to the school (unscathed) only to find that Mary was in Accra for the day. I was willing to go ahead with the teacher trainings, but the other teachers said they would prefer for Mary to be present at all meetings, which I can understand. So, almost as soon as I'd put down my bookbag, I put it back on again, heading out into Cape. I decided to make the most of my ride into town and went hunting for fabric, which is not hard to find. The hard part is choosing which fabric to buy! I picked out a yellow and black pattern, bought two yards for $4 (6 cedi), and headed over to the seamstress shop where my dress was made. I took a picture with me from our October 2010 edition of Cosmo to help them get a sense for the A-line skirt that I wanted. She asked me to come back Wednesday to pick it up and bring a little over $5 (8C) with me for the labor. Gotta love handmade clothes.

I picked up some lunch and headed back to Elmina. Although this taxi ride was not quite as interesting as the first outwardly, the dynamics inside the taxi reminded me of the 14-days my family spent inside our Ford Windstar minivan road-tripping it to across country to Colorado in 1999. The driver was on his cell phone, yacking away. The guy in the passenger's seat kept making a snorting noise, like a pig, in the attempts to clear his throat - I think? Occasionally he would spit out the window, and even went as far as to use the bottom of his yellow cut-off to blow his nose. As Tom Dunlap would say - hello nasty. Meanwhile, I was kickin' it in the back seat with the peanut man, who, in the midst of going to town on his peanuts, managed to hit me in the face with a handful of shells that he was trying to throw over his shoulder into the gutted trunk area. I'm not sure if I've ever been more grateful to see the sign for the Elmina Beach Resort looming in the distance - my visual cue to pay the driver and tell him to stop.

This weekend, or July 1st to be exact, Ghana celebrates Republic Day. The fact that this holiday coincides with the Fouth of July hardly makes me feel like I'm missing the 4th at all, which is nice. Since tomorrow is a national holiday, the girls don't have to go into work, and we plan to take off for a weekend trip to the Volta Region, which is the region that borders Togo. Our friends went two weekends ago, and said that we are in store for a full day of traveling (10 hours) each way. I'm not sure exactly what is on the agenda, but I know we will be stopping at Wli Falls, located just outside the village of, yes, Hohoe. I would also love to stop at Mount Afadjato, but we'll have to see if we have time. I am not taking my laptop, which will make for a blogless weekend. But I daresay there will be enough going on in the U.S. this weekend to make up for it. Happy 4th!

The Faces of Aboom

As promised, here are some pictures of students. I took a picture of each individual yesterday to help me remember their names. I think these turned out the best. Aren't they so sweet?

Cape Coast Dogs Speak Fante

After another 6am run, I had some time to relax this morning. Usually I head in to the school around 10 on Tuesdays and Thurdsays. Yesterday before I left, Mary told me that they would be holding a PTA meeting at school tomorrow.

“The meeting starts at 9 am,” said Mary.

“Okay. So do you think we will have to push back our meeting with the teachers?” I asked.

“Yes. Sometimes, even though I say 9am, the parents will not show up until 10:30. But, this time, I said we will start right at 9, so I am hopeful that by 11:30, it will be finished.”

“Wow. Okay. So I will come in around 11:30, then. That should give us plenty of time for the meeting.”

I was a little late getting there – 11:45. I should know by now not to worry about being late here, because the meeting lasted until quarter after one. I used the time to get pictures of all the students so that I can practice learning their names at home. I will attach some of my favorites tomorrow when I have a better internet connection.

The students are really starting to take to me now that I have done music with them three times. When I walk in the school at least four or five students run up to me to hug, nuzzle, shake hands, and poke me. I sat in the preschool class for a while today waiting for the PTA meeting to end, and was really able to start to see all of their personalities shining. The student who famously sang, “My fat lady,” two weeks ago is my little buddy these days. He is very smart and likes to talk, but has a bad habit of just tapping you until you look at him. So, I’ve been teaching him to say, “excuse me,” first. When he would tap me, I’d say, “Emman, say excuse me.” He would oblige, “Excuse me,” and I would say, “Yes, Emman! What do you want to say to me,” etc., etc. Today for the first time, he said, “excuse me,” without being asked. A few minutes later, though, he was back to tapping me, and when I said, “Emman, what should you say first?” he says, “I don’t want to say ‘excuse me!’” I couldn’t help but laugh, and when I did, some stray hair fell across my face, sticking to my sticky forehead. Never missing a beat, he reached up and brushed it out of my face.

The meeting went pretty well once it got started, though. All of the teachers (3) and the aides (3) were there. We talked about the schedule for the rest of the summer. They told me that it is likely the school will go on vacation one week earlier than what they originally thought. Apparently, the schedule is not set in stone until the school board sends out a letter informing the schools of just when vacation will start. But the ladies say word is spreading that it will start one week early, July 22. Even though I have every day planned for already, I am glad they told me today, so that I can be flexible. That’s definitely one of the most important tools my education in music therapy has given me – be flexible. I cannot think of a day at the school where I have not had to think on my feet and adapt to fit the situation. Kinda comes in handy in real life, too.

During today’s meeting, I was taught the teachers two simple songs One was the hello song. The other is called something like, “Let’s Go Down to the Farm.” The lyrics are simply: Let’s go down to the farm/To see the animals/What sound does a dog make?/ Woof woof woof woof. As the song goes along, the leader mixes in different animals. The kids get to “moo” and “meow” and all sorts of fun stuff, and they love it. I taught it to the teachers using “dog” as the animal of choice. However, as soon as they heard it, they started laughing out loud. One aide was even dabbing her eyes with a tissue she was laughing so hard. I was wracking my brain trying to think of what I could have said that did not translate well into Ghanaian English. Finally, Mary said, “Amy. The issue is, Ghanaian dogs say “raow raow raow,” not “wuf wuf,” or whatever you just did.” We all burst into laughter this time.

The rest of the day was pretty standard. Read, yoga, computer, dinner, blog. I did think of a few things that I no longer think twice about, but might be interesting to hear about. There is no trash collection in small cities like Elmina (I’m not sure about the big cities). Therefore, our night watchman burns our trash in the front yard every day. This kind of makes me cringe, because even though our garbage mostly consists of tissue and food scraps, I know for a fact that some plastic and other foreign materials are making their way into the inferno. And on a windy day like today, the smoke blows right into the house. I’m glad I don’t have to breathe that in for more than two months.

Also, when one Ghanaian wants to get another person’s attention, it is customary to make a hissing sound, almost like saying “tsk,” but more drawn out. At first, I thought I was being jeered at, but then I realized it is just a good way of getting someone’s attention. Believe me, that “tsssss” really sticks out in a large mix of sounds. Gets the job done every time. But to tell the truth, I think we Obrunis are still a little taken aback when we hear people hissing at us, since in the U.S., this would definitely not be a positive, or even a neutral way to communicate.

Finally, it is not uncommon to share the shoulder of the road with a number of animals. I have many times been trying to dodge a taxi only to find that a rooster or a goat is in my path. Today I managed to snap a few photos of a particularly large herd of goats who were crossing the street right outside of the beach resort. Kind of ironic considering the Elmina Beach Resort is one of the nicest resorts in Ghana. When I am swiping their relatively fast Wifi tomorrow, I will add a picture of them, too. Enjoy!

P.S. If you are on Facebook, search the Aboom School for Special Needs Children. Some of the other volunteers have been doing a great job of updating the school's Facebook site, so check it out and "like" it! They even put up a few pictures of me doing music with the vocational class yesterday.

Musings

This morning’s run ended in pouring rain, which was actually quite welcome. I never mind running in rain. By the time Emma and I returned home, though, we could wring water out of our t-shirts. My shoes squelched as I walked up stairs to get ready for the third week of school. Hard to believe, considering I will only be at the school for seven weeks total.

One of the other volunteers warned me when I got to the school, “You will have your good days and bad days.” So far, this has definitely been true. Thankfully, today was a good day. The preschool class had 19 students today, and even though that’s a pretty big group, they were pretty easy to handle. The group sang along to songs we only learned on Wednesday, nobody tried to pick a fight with his neighbor, and all of the students stayed in their seats, looking right at me for pretty much the whole time. It’s kinda funny how music can do that, huh? I was especially excited when I brought out the resonator bells. One girl, without speech and some aggression, played the resonator bell like I asked, and then, she sang, “ahhh,” matching the pitch of the bell she had just played.

Since Mary was out of town for the last two music days, I was glad that she finally got to see it in action today. She sat in on the vocational class’ lesson, and although though she was supposed to be helping make purses on the other side of the room, I caught her singing along, and at one point, she was even doing the hand motions for the movement activity. One of the other volunteers took a break from making purses to take some pictures, and I am hoping to have copies of those soon.

After a particularly good lunch (leftovers from Eli’s), I made a significant dent in the book I started on Saturday. Later, I finally motivated myself enough to get out of bed and walk across the street to the beach resort and do yoga in the gym. I am sad to say that I have not done yoga since early April, and I have a feeling my muscles won’t let me forget it tomorrow. It felt wonderful to get back into it, though, so I think I might have to make that an afternoon ritual. Plus, I had the exercise facility to myself and it had air conditioning and full length mirrors. Two things that are hard to come by in Ghana.

Dinner at Eli’s tonight was Amouk, a coconut vegetable curry. Of course, it was amazing. She also served it with fish, which was pretty entertaining to watch. The fish was whole, including eyes and tail, with a little bit of crust where Eli had fried it. The girls just kind of stared at it for a few, and then Mel dug in, cutting it in half and scraping out the meat. Emma (also vegan) and I abstained, but everyone else seemed to really enjoy it.

Apart from upcoming weekend trips, my day-to-day doings during the week have pretty much plateaued. I also realize that dedicated readers you may be, my mother is probably the only one who realllly cares what I am eating, drinking, saying, and thinking every minute of every day (love you, Mom). Then, I thought of all the crazy things that I see every day, and how they are becoming less and less crazy to me as I settle in. So, in order to spice up the blog a bit, and to help me appreciate the Ghanaian life happening around me, I think I’ll start including a few strange sights from each day.

For today:

I rode most of the way into Cape with a cab driver who had what looked like a stick of chap stick stuck up his nose. He was sniffing and blowing his nose before this, so my only guess is that this stick is some sort of remedy for that. Sure did look goofy.

While walking in Cape, I saw a hand painted sign advertising “Peaceman Hair Cuts.”

When walking around Elmina, a young, 20-something woman walked past me. Although people do carry things on their heads frequently, this broke the record for size. Balanced in a big silver bowl was a 3’ x 2’ burlap sack, like a flour or potato sack. She did cheat a little and steady it with her hands, but still, she was walking in a straight line with something the size of a large child sitting on her head! Other interesting items I have seen balanced on heads include a sewing machine and a post-slaughter pig.

Realizations:

Ghana is a country lathered in irony. I’ll give an example. Numerous times before, I have mentioned how chaotic driving is here. I have never worn a seat belt in Ghana. I no longer think anything of it when a taxi driver passes another car on double yellow (or what would be double yellow if there were any paint on the roads) and the oncoming car swiftly swerves to make room, never missing a beat. However, at least once or twice a week, police blocks pull over my taxi to check for proper identification, licensure, and registration. So although a taxi might have seven passengers, a cracked windshield, and belongings overflowing from the trunk, if the driver is a legal one, the car can keep on driving as is.

I might have mentioned that three Global Mamas volunteers from Accra came to visit for the weekend. Yesterday, I woke up to the smell of bacon, and thought, “Oh geeze, you must miss home if you are smelling American things.” I asked around later and found out that the girls had actually brought some bacon at the request of one of the Cape Coast volunteers. Today, another girl was cutting up a hunk of cheddar cheese to put on a salad; also an import from Accra. Yet, yesterday the three Accra girls couldn’t wait to get into Cape Coast to get their usual goods at a lesser price. We couldn’t wait for them to bring us things from Accra, and they couldn’t wait to take back things from Cape Coast – ironic, no?

It is just a few minutes shy of 9pm, and Erin is already asleep. In a few minutes, I’ll join her in dreamland. Funny to think that while we are calling it a day, our friends and family in the US are probably still cooking or just sitting down to dinner. The heat takes a lot out of you, especially the humidity. Today was cool and breezy, but starting in July, the rain stops and the humidity shoots up. Should be fun!