Gypsy Soul
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Saying Goodbye
One month ago, I arrived in Ghana at night, the dark making it difficult to get my bearings or really understand where I was. Tonight, I fly again at night, stealing away while everyone is sleeping. I remember telling myself as I walked across the tarmac that first night, that the next time I saw this spot, I would be feeling sad and nostalgic. I was mostly telling myself that to calm my nerves, having just flown into Accra alone. It helped to think that soon, it would all feel familiar. In the end, though, I was right. I knew I would be.
On one of my last nights here, a Ghanaian asked me, "What did you dislike about Ghana, and what did you like about Ghana?" The answer to the first question may not come as a surprise: I was never able to figure out what time anything was happening, or whether it was even happening at all. I think I would need a lifetime to get used to Ghana time. For the second, there are many answers, but one comes easily. It's the girls I'll miss seeing every morning at school. I loved their questions and their shouts of "Madam! Madam!" I loved that they took naps during breaks, because that's just what I would have done if I were them. I loved that they were willing to do jumping jacks to wake back up before lessons, and I loved it even more when the jumping jacks just turned into dancing.
When any volunteer leaves, they sing a terribly depressing song with the line, "My friends are going away/ I have nobody to comfort my soul/ Goodbye, Goodbye." As if I wasn't already sad enough. I'll never forget when they ran out of the classroom to wave goodbye as I got in the taxi. True, they were following the teacher who had one last question for me about their exam, but I like to think that they would have done it anyway.
In other words, there are many things I'm taking away from Ghana. Some are memories, and some are weighing down my backpack so heavily that I'm really starting to dread the commute home. If things get too heavy, I'll just take a leaf out of Ghana's books and start selling the contents of my bag market-style on the streets of New York. Then it'll be home again, for a long nap in honor of my sleepy students.
On one of my last nights here, a Ghanaian asked me, "What did you dislike about Ghana, and what did you like about Ghana?" The answer to the first question may not come as a surprise: I was never able to figure out what time anything was happening, or whether it was even happening at all. I think I would need a lifetime to get used to Ghana time. For the second, there are many answers, but one comes easily. It's the girls I'll miss seeing every morning at school. I loved their questions and their shouts of "Madam! Madam!" I loved that they took naps during breaks, because that's just what I would have done if I were them. I loved that they were willing to do jumping jacks to wake back up before lessons, and I loved it even more when the jumping jacks just turned into dancing.
When any volunteer leaves, they sing a terribly depressing song with the line, "My friends are going away/ I have nobody to comfort my soul/ Goodbye, Goodbye." As if I wasn't already sad enough. I'll never forget when they ran out of the classroom to wave goodbye as I got in the taxi. True, they were following the teacher who had one last question for me about their exam, but I like to think that they would have done it anyway.
In other words, there are many things I'm taking away from Ghana. Some are memories, and some are weighing down my backpack so heavily that I'm really starting to dread the commute home. If things get too heavy, I'll just take a leaf out of Ghana's books and start selling the contents of my bag market-style on the streets of New York. Then it'll be home again, for a long nap in honor of my sleepy students.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
The Best Laid Plans
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I was hoping for later, but you can't choose when you want to be sick. These past three days have proven to me yet again that sometimes, plans just aren't going to work out the way you thought they would. The timing was extra unfortunate since I was supposed to say goodbye to my class yesterday, and I was supposed to leave for Mole National Park today. Instead, I've been lying in bed attempting to eat and watching an IV drip, drip, drip, drip... Listening to the bus pull away without me this morning was definitely not one of the highlights of my trip.
After receiving some stellar care from my host families, I'm on the mend and feeling more like myself. I am also more than determined to make it to Mole tomorrow to meet up with the group and see my fair share of elephants and baboons. Until then, I'll just keep lying around. Since they took my IV out, I'll have to watch something else. Perhaps the fan will do.
After receiving some stellar care from my host families, I'm on the mend and feeling more like myself. I am also more than determined to make it to Mole tomorrow to meet up with the group and see my fair share of elephants and baboons. Until then, I'll just keep lying around. Since they took my IV out, I'll have to watch something else. Perhaps the fan will do.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
"It's Ghana, a little bit of pressure"
Today, in the spirit of the World Cup, we went to the village to play a soccer game, Ghanaians against foreigners. I did what I do best and cheered from the sides. In between cheering, I worked on a grant application for the school, never mind that I've never actually written one before. I'm a native English speaker and a teacher, so I was handed the documents and told to write. It's strikingly similar to last Thursday, when I was told at 3:00 pm that I would be running a combined computer and classroom management course for the teachers of the school the following morning, plus every remaining Friday. It has me seriously doubting the phrase, "It's Ghana, no pressure."
As I held the laptop in my lap, surrounded by children peering over my shoulders while I typed, I worried about what the dust was doing to the computer. Whatever it was doing, it couldn't have been good. After a while, I lost interest in the game and wandered into an abandoned classroom with an actual table on which to set the laptop and a seat on which to sit. I was relieved to find out later that the game ended in a draw. At least there won't be any incessant gloating from either side to interrupt my typing.
As I held the laptop in my lap, surrounded by children peering over my shoulders while I typed, I worried about what the dust was doing to the computer. Whatever it was doing, it couldn't have been good. After a while, I lost interest in the game and wandered into an abandoned classroom with an actual table on which to set the laptop and a seat on which to sit. I was relieved to find out later that the game ended in a draw. At least there won't be any incessant gloating from either side to interrupt my typing.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
The Unexpected
I never thought I'd sit on a crocodile, but that's what vacations are for, getting you to do things that you never expected to do. It sure sounded dangerous at first, but he was pretty relaxed about the whole situation, so I followed his cues.
After bidding my new friend good-bye, I did something else I never imagined doing, and walked a few feet into Burkina Faso with no documentation. They are surprisingly relaxed at the border, so after miming and using a few French words to explain what we wanted to do, they smiled and let us walk past the gates. A friendly argument ensued when we tried to take photos with the Burkina Faso sign, but the problem was solved by the photographer standing on the Ghana side of the border and taking pictures from there. No harm done.
The most refreshing time of the day was sitting in the hills overlooking the rocky landscape. The rest of the day was spent gulping water, wiping sweat from our foreheads, and feeling quite faint, but these few minutes were complete paradise.
As we headed back to the bus, we got to talk to some of the most cheerful children I've ever met, and they didn't seem to mind the heat at all. They were just excited to make faces and pose for the camera, and I was happy to oblige. If there's anything I should take home with me, it's that smile right there on the left.
Monday, June 30, 2014
What you miss when it's gone
I realize that I've only been in Ghana for one week, but I joined a conversation among volunteers who have been here for weeks or months and have weeks or months to go. We were talking about what we're going to do when we get home, and the conversation went a little something like this:
"I'm going to brush my teeth in a sink."
"I'm going to stand in the shower and actually drink the water."
"I'm going to keep my feet and nails clean for more than ten minutes."
"I'm going to get a manicure."
"I'm going to sit in front of the washing machine and watch as my clothes wash themselves."
"I'm going to get a manicure while I sit in front of the washing machine and watch as my clothes wash themselves."
In other words, we're not suffering. We've just noticed the things that we used to take for granted. For example, sinks.
"I'm going to brush my teeth in a sink."
"I'm going to stand in the shower and actually drink the water."
"I'm going to keep my feet and nails clean for more than ten minutes."
"I'm going to get a manicure."
"I'm going to sit in front of the washing machine and watch as my clothes wash themselves."
"I'm going to get a manicure while I sit in front of the washing machine and watch as my clothes wash themselves."
In other words, we're not suffering. We've just noticed the things that we used to take for granted. For example, sinks.
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