suitcases and storms

Dark storm clouds are moving in. 

I have been watching them for the past fifteen minutes from the window behind the desk at which I sit, the fifteen minutes I set aside to write this post. They are moving very fast, and I fear I will be caught in rain on the walk back to my hostel. As beautiful as the rainy season is, maybe its inconvenient timing is Ghana's way of making my exodus in two weeks' time to the motherland less bitter and more sweet.

I've been thinking about suitcases lately, mainly because I'm wondering how the hell I'm going to fit everything I've accrued this semester into mine on the way home. I will be leaving several things here, but I've also bought heavy stuff and I'm taking a Kente garment to my Ghanaian roommate's mom who lives in Alexandria, VA. Kente is really heavy and expensive stuff; it's Ghana's premier fabric, the stuff chiefs (or sometimes Bill Clinton) wear on special occasions. 

Suitcases are funny things. They make our lives easier, but only on international flights. Fly domestically with one of these suckas and they'll charge you $25 USD before you can bat a pretty eyelash and say "boo." 

So this is a poem about my suitcase, and how it can't carry everything.

Which I am okay with.

See you in two weeks, America.

movementONE.

precious contents bound by nylon, lock and key

bulky

wheels for toting,

handles for lugging

it lags behind me, clutched in the grip of my curled fingers

i look ahead

movementTWO.

security checkpoints, x-rays,

herded through, as cattle

destinations and printed labels

i release my grasp, let it go;

whirrs past on a conveyor belt

out of sight

see you there

freedom

movementTHREE.

step one: disembark

step two: show passport; prove identity

step three: claim what is rightfully mine

movementFOUR.

we step out together through automatic doors

it lags behind me, clutched in the grip of my curled fingers

did i forget any thing?

rather, could that thing be stuffed in a suitcase?

wooden trinkets, Kente fabric, ticket stubs and red dusty clothes: 

altars of a land i used to tread

substitutes for a life i cannot pack away

we're off to new lands, so hold on to my hands: it's easter time in GHANA

Out of Ghana's 24+ million people, 68% are Christians.


It's impossible for me to escape God in Ghana, or at least, impossible to escape mention of God. I've been preached to by screaming self-ordained reverends on 5-hour bus rides, sung to by gospel choirs in the courtyard of my dormitory. Pictures of Jesus or the Virgin Mary are everywhere: on tro-tros (large vans for public transportation), in shop windows-- I even met one man who wore a suit made out of fabric with Jesus's face all over it.


I have never seen so much Jesus at one time.


That said, knowing what I know about the typical Ghanaian's dedication to all things Christian, I figured Easter ain't no joke in Ghana.


Now, two days post-Easter, I can say with certainty that Easter is HUGE here.
It's a public holiday. All public/private universities get four days off. Everyone celebrates. Those who have the ability travel to one place: the Eastern region, arguably the most luxurious region in the country. There are mountains, oh so many mountains! The air is cool, the mosquitoes few, the roads paved and free of trash. The streets turn into one big party, causing traffic backups. The alcohol flows freely (well, not literally.. you still have to pay for it), no one works, and every one lets go of all responsibility for the occasion. Azonto (the preferred dance of my Ghanaian peers) finds its way into the streets as well, any time, anywhere. Big bandstands even hold Azonto Dance Competitions for all who think they are just THAT good at Azonto-ing. Fights break out, sometimes about trivial things, other times due to family drama. People stay up late, eat a lot of fufu and goat meat, dress up to the nines.


You know, just your typical Easter.


I spent Easter weekend at my friend Ruth's family's home in Kwahu-Pepease, a small rural town in the Eastern region, with some friends from school and Ruth's Auntie Amma-- aka the best Ghanaian cook known to man.


Timeline of events:

• FRIday: travelled to Pepease. An all day affair, on horrible roads in a big orange bus. I swear one time we hit a pot hole that sent me flying three feet up from my seat. Three feet, I tell you. It was so much fun. Held a woman's baby when she got out of the bus to pee on the side of the road. For the first time, I wasn't nervous to hold someone else's child. Victory.
• SATurday: happily ate DELICIOUS food, met lots of people and saw great sights in the mountains, went to the Paragliding Festival. Crashed a party that night. Attended Azonto competition. Took a bucket shower.
• SUNday: Easter Sunday. Awoke early, perched precariously between two options: go to church or go hiking? For those of you who know me well and know my restless tendencies even better, I think you know what I'm going to say...

I went hiking.


The way I saw it, I could either: go to church which is something I've 1) already done in Ghana and 2) done for the past 20 years of my life on Easter Sunday *OR* go find this awesome trail I learned about from a Peace Corps volunteer. In the spirit of the Ghanaian Easter, which I perceive as "anything goes," I chose hiking. (An aside-- afterward, I didn't feel bad for choosing the hike because I learned church was officiated all in local language, and it lasted like 5 or 6 hours.)


The adventure started out well enough. We caught a cab to Mpraeso, a junction the Peace Corps guy had told us to catch a ride at. But from there on, the plan failed. No one knew about this town or hike I was talking about, and the phone number we had gotten from the Peace Corps guy for directions was disconnected. We were lost. But, this one taxi driver mentioned the town of Obo and I had a good feeling about it, so we got in a taxi anyhow and to Obo we went.


We were in the taxi, driving on winding roads for a LONG time in the middle of nowhere. Though there were mountains all around and they seemed to call out to me, "Meredith, come hike me! Choose me!" there was also bush-- aka scraggly vegetation not suitable for hiking-- and Ghana doesn't exactly have parks with designated trails as America does. Thus, we were at the mercy of the cab driver and a girl in the front seat named Ludeis. Ludeis invited us to her home; she said knew of a hike near by. With no other better option and no where to be, we ended up on her front porch and met her whole family. She asked us if we wanted to go party (it was 10 A.M. haha) but we said no, we really wanted to hike...

Another aside---
This is Ghana in a nutshell. Well, this is MY experience in Ghana, in a nutshell:
NOTHING EVER ENDS UP AS PLANNED. In fact, IT ENDS UP BETTER THAN PLANNED.

Ludeis led us to none other than the Ghana Hiking Festival, a festival on top of a mountain, with a hike into a cave, that only happens once a year on Easter. I got to wear a headlamp (!!! I was sooo happy.) and hike up this huge hill using a rope. The cave was awesome and cold and so large; it was used by one thousand Ashanti warriors in the 1700s to hide from Kwahu warriors during their war for territory. After the hike, we ended up dancing tribal dances to drums, and then Azonto-ing, with random Ghanaians in the middle of a forest.
Random, you say? Such is my life.

In Ghana, there are three phrases I've picked up (among others) which I'll probably never stop saying:

1. It is finished: means something is gone, no more. Instead of saying, "We're out of beans," or "There are no more seats left in this cab," Ghanaians say, "The beans are finished," or, "This cab is finished." 
2. I am coming: used to reassure or express delay; replaces the American English phrases, "Gimme a minute," or "Wait, hold on a sec."
3. You're invited: means, "You're welcome to join" or "Help yourself." Especially used at meal times, since people customarily invite one each other to their meals. I.e., my roommate literally invites me to her meals of rice and sardines every day, even if I'm just getting out of bed and haven't opened my eyes or brushed my teeth. "Meredithhhhh, you're invited!!" is something I hear quite often. Sharing food has become normal. ..Hoorah sanitation!

The bottom line:

It is finished. Christ died for us, and rose again, offering to us undeserved grace and a reason to hope. But beyond that, He is coming. He is walking before us, and will return to this earth to bring it full-circle. And not only that, but you're invited to get in on the action; to pick up your cross, lay down your burdens, and walk confidently in the incomprehensible love of the Father. After he rose again, Jesus promised in Matthew 27.18-20:

"All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."

Where are you walking? Take the first step, even if you don't have a specific destination in mind-- 'cause I assure you, He does. The Bible says we may plan our ways, but that He directs our steps. We have freedom, authority, and responsibility to walk boldly and make disciples, wherever we are.

The crazy thing is that I deserve death. You deserve death. We all do. I deserve to be six feet under. I am the chief priest, the elder, the scribe-- the one who mocked Jesus and told him to climb down off the Cross and save Himself, if he was indeed the Son of God as he claimed. I deserve death, and I always will.

But He gives me life. 

Grace is an invitation to be beautiful. We are covered by His blood, and invited to a beautiful story. I never would've thought my steps would have led me to Ghana, but here I am. Here I was, on Easter, in a cave, learning more and laughing more and loving more than I ever thought possible. 

Where is your story? He walks before us, He's established it to be. So, go.

I've learned so much while abroad that I often can't articulate it, hence the reason for not blogging since February. But if anything, Ghana has taught me that things work out. They just do. It's not luck, or coincidence, or chance. It's providence. There may be pain or confusion or miscommunication along the way, but God's walking ahead of us and there's nothing any power of this world can do to stop Him. He walks before us, constantly switching things up in His perfect way, tangling us up in a beautiful mess of dependency on Him and purpose in him and relationship through him.  

Wherever you are, celebrate. Celebrate the death and resurrection of Christ. Celebrate the new life He's given us sinners, at the cost of God's only son. Whether the Ghanaian way, the American way, the Polish Dyngus Day way, celebrate.

That is what I've learned this Easter.

co incidents.

one of my friends recently told me he admired how i clearly communicate my thoughts in my blog posts. i'm not sure my thoughts are always that clear. on the contrary, i feel like i babble on and on incoherently most of the time, which is why i made a label for my posts called "nonsensical verbiage." which is what i feel is about to happen as i start this post...


i'll begin with a favorite anecdote my parents love to tell of my childhood. they packed up our chevy suburban, complete with car topper and three small children, and headed out of beckley, west virginia, bound for mississippi. the journey was 12 hours long, the road was hard, but hey there ain't no rest for the weary. anyhow as the story goes, we got to the stop light at the bottom of the hill about a mile from our house and my little 4 year old self squealed out from the back seat, "are we THERE yet?"


sometimes i live my life like that. am i there yet? is it time? when will i arrive at point x?


when i first got to ghana, i didn't fall in love with the place. i still don't think i have. the city of accra is not beautiful or charming. it's dirty. and the way it operates boggles my mind; i don't know how it holds itself together... from my naive outsider's perspective, there is hardly any infrastructure or structure to begin with. everyone just kind of does their own thing but at the same time looks out for each other more than any average joe in america would ever consider doing. it's like when you put water in a bucket and spin it around and the water doesn't fall out because of the physics of it all-- accra is like that. it's spinning around, running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but nothing ever goes terribly wrong.
so these are my thoughts five weeks into my time here in accra.


this week i realized that i could see myself staying here for a long time. for the first time ever, i wasn't opposed to putting down roots. i had stopped asking, "are we there yet?" without even knowing it. i'm not sure what brought this change. perhaps it was tuesday, when i listened to country music while it rained, and my worlds collided in a burst of nostalgia. or perhaps it was that evening when i went on a run through a residential area and could have easily convinced myself i was running on yellowbrick road at my uncle's house in mississippi. the red clay, the old men gardening, the kids getting home from school, the humid heavy air-- my second burst of nostalgia.
but none of this was the bad kind of nostalgia. have you ever read up on nostalgia? it can bring feelings of joy or sadness. this nostalgia was pure joy. joy that i can appreciate the past, the good ol' days, at the same time as i enjoy this new adventure. my story is being written, the pages are being filled up faster than i can comprehend. day by day they fill, creating a chapter of life unique specifically to this place and this time.


wednesday i went to Mokola Market, the largest outdoor market in west africa. FREAKING HUGE and CRAZY place. you can buy everything from soap to cow skin from a cow killed 2 days ago to cloth to pots and pans to alcohol to clothespins to straws from Subway to meat pies to prada knock-off purses. i'd seen it featured in the episode of Amazing Race when the cast went to ghana and made fools of themselves, but this was my first time experiencing the place in the flesh. (actually, and sadly, come to think of it, that episode of Amazing Race was the only thing i'd really seen about ghana upon arrival here 5 weeks ago. it all came about because hannah young made me watch it while hanging out at her apartment before i left in december. we made fun of the show as the cast members tried to sell sunglasses in the market and got laughed at and ripped off by locals haha.)


ok so back to the point:


who- me and a friend
what- buying sunglasses
when- wednesday
where- mokola market
why- to explore
how- arrived by tro-tro, traveled on foot


did you catch that? buying sunglasses. i was with my friend harrison and he bought sunglasses. and i was like, man, this is crazy. hannah and i were JUST watching this a coupla months ago. and it just happened. at that moment i couldn't get over the coincidence of it all. but really, is anything coincidence? 


i told hannah about it later (hi hannah, i know you're reading this and i love you) and she sent me this quote by her favorite theologian, Frederick Buechner:

...People laugh at coincidence as a way of relegating it to the realm of the absurd and of therefore not having to take seriously the possibility that there is a lot more going on in our lives than we either know or care to know. Who can say what it is that's going on? But I suspect that part of it, anyway, is that every once and so often we hear a whisper from the wings that goes something like this:

"You've turned up in the right place at the right time. You're doing fine. Don't ever think that you've been forgotten."

so stop asking if you're there yet. and i'll do the same. let's look around us and find beauty in the mundane. in the unexpected. know that you have a purpose wherever you are; embrace it. similarly to what sarah mchaney said in her XA blogpost, doubt is normal-- and more than that, it is the questioning that makes us grow. but it's what we do with it that matters.

a post on listening right and speaking well, and what to make of it all

a haiku4u:

we'll play it by ear

in one ear, out the other

that's how it works right?

i'm not writing any long blog posts on observations like i did the last two times. writing those posts was, for me, actually quite a laborious process. i'm not really into detailed observations and notes. 

i did, however, take some notes in my Twi language class today…notes on what i wanted to say in this blog post. hahaha. oops, i should have paid more attention to the lecture right? i couldn't help it! as my professor continued talking and writing on the board, it was hot and i the heat encouraged distraction and i started doodling, and thinking about how language and interactions shape the culture i've thus far experienced here. and then i started thinking about how that ties in with what i've been reading in Donald Miller's "Blue Like Jazz."

so stay with me.

hurrrrrr we go….

1. social barriers and taboos aren't the same. 

i learn fast about others, and others learn fast about me. common questions or explanations in many blossoming (and by blossoming i mean we JUST met) friendships include, "do you have a boyfriend?" or "do you want a boyfriend?" there is also, "are you christian?" and "you are beautiful!" and "what's your phone number? what's your room number?"

in America we don't move that fast. the difference in social cues makes me laugh. i'm totally comfortable with opening up this fast, it just amuses me to think about what would happen if i asked some rando on the DC metro all these questions during a morning commute.

2. conversations when it's all a sham.

so there's times when friendships move fast and it's genuine. but there's also those times when this thing called dishonesty dirties the waters of conversation. 

there are two ways this happens.

first, sometimes the locals i talk with are putting on a show all along, just for kicks and giggles. this doesn't happen all that much but it's amusing when it does. examples include times when a guy comes up to me and says, "i want to marry you. i love you. you are the best girl and you DESERVE the best, girl. i am professing my love to you right here and now. will you marry me?" 

in this instance, i know that he isn't serious. (some girls in my program really freak out when this happens because they don't realize it's like the ghanaian version of a pick-up line and NOT a legitimate proposition.) i don't freak out, but i've adopted the position of looking at him like he's the biggest idiot in the world and either walking away or changing the topic. i think next time i'll jump up and down and exclaim, "OMG YES! I'LL MARRY YOU! i thought you'd never ask! smooches! g2g to call my mom and tell her the news!!" and see what he says. he's just joking anyway, i might as well give him some of his own medicine.

along those lines, there are also times when i get my own chance to joke around. some of my friends and i have started telling people we're from Slovenia, or Norway, or Serbia. it's really fun, because we can put on weird accents and do a lot of improv. i know you might be judging me right now, because you might be thinking this is really rude slash deceitful of me. but i only do it when i'm meeting someone i'll literally never see again, usually someone hassling me for money. and usually it's a Rastafarian on the beach. the beaches here have hoards and hoards of Rastas just chillin, doing their own thing and trying to sell stuff. lots of stuff. telling them my real name just wouldn't be as fun. and besides, humor is universal. most of them aren't fooled by my stunning improv skills.

3. language as etiquette: saying "please" twice

if you're one of those people who like to beg and weasel your way into getting what you want, or if you're one of those people who often pulls the "please sir, i want some more" (in a british accent) line, then Twi is the language for you. saying "please" here is just expected, pretty much all the time. especially when a younger person speaks to an elder. but saying please is also expected in interactions with merchants, taxi cab drivers, etc. 

there are two different words for "please," one that you use at the beginning of the sentence and one that you can use at the end. some parts of ghana even use "please" before they insult some one.. i.e. "Please, you look like a fat cow." 

so, if you want to say please like a ghanaian, here's how you say it:

mepaakyew (pronounced meh-pach-oo) is the please you'd use to preface your sentence.

wae (why-ay) is what you'd use (and possibly repeat, for emphasis) at the end of your sentence.

4. a lingusitic anecdote for your enjoyment

i am learning not to assume i know the meaning of certain phrases in Twi until i see them written down. why, do you ask? well because i'm usually flat out wrong. sadly cognates do not exist between Twi and English, as they do for English and Spanish. 

you know the term "mamasita" in spanish? well i thought people were calling me a mamasita left and right when i first got here, and i was like, "hmmm that's a weird Spanish phrase to be in ghana.. all i've heard so far here is 'adios.'" that was until i saw it written down and saw that what they were really saying was "ma me sika" which means "give me money." hahahahahaha i laughed at myself really hard. all along i was flattered, but what was really happening was they were asking me for money. oh, how the mighty fall.

5. and finally, what Twi is teaching me about community and family.

ghana prizes its community and family relations. i learned yesterday that a word for aunt or uncle doesn't exist in Twi. there's a similar word, one used for your parents' friends or for people around your parents' age. but, for that legitimate aunt/uncle relation (your mom and dad's siblings) you'd just refer to them as your 2nd, 3rd, or 4th, mother or father. 

as i thought about it, that's a huge statement: that we are to care for our extended family just like our parents. that concept is something i really value; it resonates with me, i guess because it aligns so well with how much i value family and community in general. it also challenges me. like, what am i going to do with this, to make what i'm learning mean something?

...and then there's donald miller. i'm finally half way through Blue Like Jazz, and now i see why everyone raves about it. i borrowed it from hayley elliott years ago and never got past the first 10 pages, but now i can't put it down. at this season in my life i'm just eating up miller's words. anyhow i've been reading the impressions of christianity he formed before he became a christian, and about his impressions even after becoming a christ follower. he talked about how he used to judge Christ by the way he heard the idea delivered-- not by the merit of the idea itself. it's giving me a lot to think about in my own walk with Christ, and it's also giving me a new way of looking at the importance of listening and speaking well in my interactions here.

as i'm in the process of learning new social cues and new culturally ingrained ways of interacting, both of which are wrapped into and defined by this new language, i'm seeing that the WAY things are delivered is not what i should focus on. it's important to note, so that i can respond back appropriately. but ultimately, i should focus on the message BEHIND the delivery, the person behind the delivery, the idea behind the delivery. i should discover, seek to understand, and be understood. i should be myself, and free others to be themselves. when in ghana, do as the ghanaians do-- but ultimately remember that i'm here for a reason.

a haiku for you... then, adieu. 

we'll play it by ear?

that won't cut it anymore

be intentional

ps.
happy birthday uncle steve!
or should i say papa steve. bahhaah

where you lead, i will follow

yesterday i talked with my mom on the phone.

moms make everything better.

or at least, mine does. 

she's like the lorelai gilmore of the real-life dimension.

as soon as i started talking with her, i started processing all the changes and challenges i'm facing right now-- things i didn't, before now, let myself think much about. until now, i've been taking in everything and it's gone in one ear and out the other, in my eyes but not to my heart. i don't yet know if i'll fall in love with ghana like i'm in love with washington, dc, or south africa, or even west virginia. but i do know that i'm going to take it one day at a time, and i'm going to be a critical observer and participator of all i experience. 

so, i'll begin by taking you on an abbreviated (hopefully) tour of my last few days here:

last week.

-i learned to dance. 

dances of west africa are so much fun! i first learned a dance choreographed by my friend Atsu, a dance and performance graduate from the University of Ghana. he graciously toned down the difficulty for us, since most of us do not know how to dance. also i think he wanted us to look good because we have to perform it at a welcome gala this weekend. 

the second dance session consisted of a dance workshop held by the head of the dance department, and it was amazing. i'll be taking his dance class this semester, and i honestly can't wait. the professor talked about the significance of dance in this culture, and how ghanaians are raised dancing. even as infants, he pointed out, they're fastened around their mothers' backs and bounced up and down with the rhythm of work and commute. coming from a mother who doesn't dance except when she wants to embarrass me, and a father who prides himself in his two signature moves (the moonwalk and a motion that resembles something like hula hooping), i know you're eager to see how this whole dance thing works out for me. so am i, so am i.

-i cheered on the Black Stars.

football here is a world of its own. i mentioned in my last post that sundays are the only time life stops here, but i stand corrected. ghana shuts down for two things: church and football. i had the privilege of experiencing two games last week, against Botswana and Mali. a bunch of us made our way to TymeOut, a bar in one of the hostels here, to watch the games.  i'm trying to figure out how to adequately convey how soccer spectatorship works here. in short, know this: there's lots of dancing. what a surprise. 

my friend emma (not you, emma uebele) said it well when she called it "a ghanaian musical." it really is. you know how in musicals, life is just goin' along-- and all a sudden, people burst into song to express emotion or events in a way like no other, and then BAM! the music stops and before you know it all is back to normal and it's like nothing ever happened? yeh, it's kind of like that. when ghana scores, Azonto (see U Media Films - Azonto - Fuse ODG Feat. Tiffany (OFFICIAL) ), aka pretty much ghana's unofficial anthem, blasts over the sound system for five or ten minutes. the room erupts into mayhem: everyone jumps up, guys rip off their shirts, and go to town on some Azonto. it's impossible to avoid the madness; complete strangers dedicated at least 5 minutes of their precious celebration time to dance with me and teach me Azonto. 

so, in conclusion, this is what happens: goal. people cheer. music turns on. dancing starts. the game continues. everyone still dances. the bartender finally decides it's time to turn the music off. people sit down. silence falls. life resumes.

Azonto.

-i toured the city of Accra: 

its downtown district, its urban poor areas. saw the Atlantic. 

i can't wait to explore the city and get a feel for it, since i've spent most of my time thus far in the ghanian version of suburbs. as we were touring the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial, it began raining HARD: a dry-season rarity! i haven't taken many pictures thus far, but i did take some of the storm clouds around that time. they were breathtaking; it was so good to see something besides dust in the air.

yesterday.

….and then yesterday was a day of its own. it proved another lesson in nothing-ever-goes-as-planned in ghana. i went to church at 8am with a friend and a French-speaking international student to Legon Interdenominational Church. it lasted a VERY long time. on top of the pre-church bible study, there was a baby dedication, a meet-and-greet for first time visitors, several performances, and at least a half hour of announcements. i thought the announcements portion was funny because all the announcements were listed in the bulletin, yet they were announced over the microphone anyhow. the preacher gave a message on the church as Christ's bride, and talked about how we can't discount our past and present selves as we place our faith in what's to come. 

i planned to walk home from church, but this guy that lives in my hostel gave me a ride. we listened to the radio and let me tell you the radio stations here are so weird. they play The Carpenters, random US hits, r&b, traditional African, soul, and gospel. it doesn't matter; come one come all. the exception to the rule: on sundays, they play country music. well, this station does at least. so on the way home from church i sang along to rascal flatts. in ghana. and it didn't feel as weird as it probably should have.

after church i'd planned on going to the beach, because i STILL haven't been and cannot wait to grace the atlantic ocean with my presence, but my friend slash neighbor Rachel fell ill and thought she had malaria. it was just a false alarm (she got antibiotics for her fever/chills/aches anyhow), but we went to the university hospital and spent the afternoon there. it was no beach, still a great experience seeing the inner workings of a ghanaian hospital. the doctor didn't show up for 3 hours, which was apparently better than how it usually works. and it's all open-air, one level. i could pretty much walk anywhere and go in any room i wanted, even though i didn't have clearance. people were laying around in hospital beds, and there were extra beds chillin' outside on the sidewalk. one of our orientation leaders went with us, thank God, because he knew what to do and where to go.

other rando tid-bits of information:

-i did my laundry today for the first time and i think i failed. it's all hand-wash, put outside to dry kind of thing. i think i didn't actually wash it enough though because the stains are still there. in case you were wondering.

-i had two skirts made! and a dress. two ladies camp out in the hostel in the evenings with fabric and measuring tape, and they make amazing pieces of clothing. i picked out some bright and crazy patterns, and i can't wait to have new clothes. i packed rather light, so any new garment is a joy.

and finally, class. ..the reason i'm here. or so they tell me.

well, class starts today. in about two hours. at least, i think it does. there was a huge strike today on campus, the second since i've been here. i don't think it was the teachers though, i think it was the administrators, so we're good.. class should still be a go. people make demonstrations here a lot about salaries and such, since they're government paid (or underpaid) and employed.

my roommate is still not here, but i think i'll have one eventually. apparently she could arrive as late as a week or two from now, since a lot of people just don't show up for class the first week or so. 

here's my schedule, subject to edits/additions/etc. i think i'll have to drop a class, unfortunately.

Poverty and Rural Development (sociology308)

Sociology of Deviant Behavior (sociology314)

Twi Language

Human Osteology and Forensic Anthropology (archaeology312)

Contemporary Ethical and Moral Issues (religion356)

dance class

music (drums)

oh and i might add in an internship/volunteer experience. cause i really want to get involved with a non-profit here.

alright, well the quality of my writing has declined and i have nothing left to say. if you've read this far, bless your soul. i hope this update finds you well in Amurrica, or wherever you happen to be.

sending my love,

meredith

First Impressions.

Hi, I'm alive and in Ghana and about to write a huge post to squelch any curiosity one might have about my experience thus far. Classes don't start till next Monday, so for now I'm just orientating and registering and figuring out life here. I'm finding I'm starting to miss certain things, like driving around in my Civic listening to Needtobreathe and hugging my friends and calling my mom whenever I want to. But for the most part, this is an amazing adventure!

Cheers.

BEGIN.

I am a huge Jane Austen fan. Always have been. I remember one time in high school I read all her novels within a week or two of each other. I'd stay up reading until 3 or 4 am and sometimes squeeze in a BBC film adaptation, just in time to make it for school at 7:22 am sharp the next day. 

Now to modern day, and the reason for this anecdote. Austen first decided to call Pride and Prejudice "First Impressions." (It was later changed to Pride and Prejudice, and I suppose that title ended up fitting the story best.) But here, for my first account of this glorious place, I will borrow Austen's idea in a way, and list my First Impressions… of Ghana. 

Drumroll.

1. the red clay

There is no brown dirt here. It's all red clay, and so every day I feel like I'm down South in Mississippi visiting my mom's family. If it weren't for the nostalgia and the awesome way the red clay contrasts with the green trees and grasses here, I'd get mad at the red clay. Because it makes all my shoes gross and leaves my sandal-clad feet looking 10 shades darker than the rest of my body.

2. the developing nature

Since Ghana has been free from British control since the 1950s, it's proud of itself as a country and an identity. They don't identify by skin color here, like we do in the US. They identify by nationality, and within the country by tribe. Either you're Ghanaian or you're a foreigner. There are tribes of course under the Ghanaian identity but that seems to be less emphasized. My friend Astchu said that his favorite thing about Ghana is its peace. He said, "The peace here has let our country develop and become great, because it's not worried about bombs or fighting wars." 

A great deal of conversations I've had since arriving here have centered around the discovery of oil in Ghana, capitalism, exports and imports, lack of infrastructure, and China. China is taking over the world (duh), aka investing in resources here and taking it away from the people; one professor from the Univ of Ghana called it modern-day colonialism. More on this later to come, but for now I'll continue my Impressions.

It's mind blowing to be in a developing country and in West Africa, definitely a culture shock if I let myself think about it too much. The lights can go out for hours, other times they flicker. I bought a bucket to keep in my room because the water can go out at any time, in which case a bucket baths would become necessary. This is a little too outdoorsy for some people on my program, but whattteevverr. Losers.

Huge uncovered gutters 2 feet wide and 3 feet deep line every street, so you've gotta watch out for those when you walk around. This makes pedestrian adventures at night especially adventuresome. 

There are no speed limits, nor lines on the road, and pedestrians don't have the right of way. Ever. So driving here would be so fun! ..In my opinion, at least. Some people drive, but most catch taxis (after they bargain a good price) or the tro-tro, which is a passenger van that fits in at least 20 or 25 people at a time and charges a flat rate of 50 pesewas (a pesewa is a Ghanain coin).

3. the food

Ah, food. Spicy food. Fried plantains. Mangoes. Need I say more? The food has been spectacular. I eat a mango a day, at least, and cut it open with my Swiss army knife. haah. The food was REALLY great for the first week or so-- lots of rice, spicy soups, chicken, and such-- but then I moved into my room in the hostel and am now in charge of cooking my own meals. Eventually I'll learn recipes and cook with my floormates (hopefully this week) but for now I'm surviving on mangoes and fresh bread and vanilla crackers and oranges. Nutritious. For now I visit the Night Market or Bush Canteen for food, which are two market places on campus. 

4. when holding hands is acceptable

The program I'm with has run us through several days of orientation, and on top of that, 8 or 9 Ghanaian students have dedicated their semesters to, well, being our friends and hanging out with us. We've had a lot of bonding time and have gotten into some interesting conversations! The guys here are a lot more friendly initially than the girls, but the girls warm up too after a while. Everyone is very sincere.. I have warmed up to the humor and culture pretty well.

One thing I find funny, compared to American culture, is how Ghanaians handle relationships. Several of my guy friends here have held my hand or my friends' hands, especially when crossing the street. They'll also put their arm around me, or any girl, randomly. Partly it's the man's role here to protect, and from what I gather, it's also a sort of male-dominance cultural thing. Regardless, it is normal interaction between friends here, no matter if one is a foreigner or not. Once a couple decides to date or court, however, the hand-holding and touchy-feely stops. Ghana pretty much has a no public display of affection policy! It is VERY rare to see a boyfriend/girlfriend or husband/wife show affection in public. So if you see people holding hands, you can almost bet your money they're just friends. 

5. it's said "chree" not "twee" 

I've started learning a little bit of Twi, the largest spoken language in Ghana. Most everyone speaks it, and also speaks a variation called Pigeon that mixes Twi and English. In Twi, I know how to say "thank you" and "I would like to buy…" and "water" and "thank you." I also know how to ask for a price reduction when bargaining. "Te so kakra": reduce it a little. Everyone knows English, but people cut you more of a deal if you throw in a little Twi.

So really, I'm set if all I need is water at a reduced price. Thank you.

6. baby there are sharks in the water

The water. I brush my teeth with it and shower in it, but that's about it. No one here drinks it, because the piping system isn't all that great and can carry typhoid, cholera, et cetera. 

So, everyone drinks water in a bag or a bottle. The bottle is more expensive, so I bought a pack of 20 or 30 water bags for 1.5 cedi. That's less than a dollar! Water is so cheap here. If you went to my elementary school, and you're reading this, you'll know what I'm talking about when I say the bagged water is exactly like the bagged milk we used to get in the lunch line. cough Chad and Rich cough.

7. i sit under trees, look at the stars, and smoke weed

Okay, I don't really. But this was one girl's, my neighbor Rachel's, first impression of me. She said I'm really chill and outdoorsy so she thought I was one of those kids who got stoned while chillin out under the stars around a campfire. Not too far off, Rachel, except for the fact that I'm still a sheltered soul and haven't smoked the stuff… BHAHA it's probably the greatest first impression story I've ever gotten.

8. the dancing here

We went out, and I tried to learn how to dance like a Ghanaian. I failed. They dance to Azuntu music, and reggae. How do you dance to reggae? Exactly.

Don't worry though, I'm not leaving without a fight. I'll learn, master, and bring my skill back to Amurrica.

9. when the internet isn't all that global

You might have noticed the lapse in blog posts, and if you're really observant, the lack of action-- or sporadic action-- on my Facebook profile. That's because I don't have internet in my hostel unless I want to pay for it, and the nearest free wifi is a 25 minute walk away. My mom just called my international phone wondering if I was alive because she hasn't heard from me in a few days. Sorry, madre, for the scare. I'm alive and well.

10. the Hama Tan, or why the sky is grey

I haven't seen blue sky since arriving here seven days ago. This is because Ghana is in the Hama Tan season, when European winter winds blow across the Sahara Desert and carry all the sand into the atmosphere. All of West Africa is covered right now! The sky looks cloudy all the time, visibility is poor, and dust covers everything. When it clears it'll get REALLY hot; March will be the hottest month, and then it will begin to "cool off" as I prepare to return to the states.

11. this campus needs a PRT

Sidenote to Chad and Rich again: I'm not kidding you, this campus is bigger than WVU's campus. Well, maybs, if you could cram the downtown campus and main all together. Anyhow, take note, broskis. I'm getting a taste of what you dealt with in Morgantown and I have mad respect for you. Ghana needs a PRT.

It takes 30 to 40 minutes to walk from one side of campus to the other. There is a shuttle, but it costs money and I don't know how to use it yet or how often it runs. I'm sure that will soon change. Regardless, that is neither here nor there. Campus. is. huge. It's like its own city. It's weird to go to a school with at least 20 or 30 football (soccer) fields (or dirt patches) around campus, and street vendors, and marketplaces, and cotton trees. Yep, cotton TREES.

12. i promise i'll end soon but first i wanna talk about CHURCH

There are so many churches here. And I thought South Africa was religious.. Ghana wins, hands down. The whole city shuts down on Sundays. Taxi cabs don't run as much, stores are closed, campus closes. The kids doing homestays went to church with their host families, if they felt comfortable. Our program director told us that people here find it mind boggling when someone doesn't go to church. They're becoming more welcoming of Islam and of course the traditional African religions. There's a very small Jewish community here. Anyhow I'm excited to start going and compare Ghanaian church worship styles with the ones I'm familiar with in the US. And I'm preparing myself for lots of drumming.

13. the only time i like snails

Snail mail is the best. Several of you asked for my address so if you've decided you really wanna send something, send me an email/Facebook and I'll give it to youuuu

14. Nets-4-Nets

That's the only  organization I know about that gives out mosquito nets, but now that I sleep under one I realize just how important they are in the prevention of malaria. It's really fun to sleep under a mosquito net, in case you were wondering. Add it to your bucket list.