Also...

I'm gonna miss this guy a ton.
Bye, Lucky, I'll see you when I get back!
Leaving in one hour...

Emily

Gone Again

Hey there,

Wow, I haven't written a blog post in a while. In fact, the idea to make a blog for this summer didn't even cross my mind until my friend Claire said, "I'll read your blog while you're away!" What? What blog? I have a blog? Yes, yes apparently I do, and seeing as a few others have encouraged me to keep it up, I suppose I will. My posts from last summer are also on this same blogspot, just in case you're confused. This is the first post of my 2013 adventure.

So, let me explain to you what happened:
Last summer I volunteered at an orphanage and school in Eguafo, Ghana, a rural village which is about a 20-minute drive from Cape Coast. The details about all that are in previous posts so I won't go into it here. The main point, though, is that as cliche as it might sound, that summer was a life-changing experience for me. Although I have visited many countries, I have never felt more at home anywhere than I did in Ghana. I promised all the children and adults that I would come back and that I would see them again. After I reluctantly returned to the United States, I declared my major as International Studies with a focus on Development in Africa, with the idea that one day I might live in Africa and help the communities I've come to love. Well, I didn't expect that to be so soon.

I actually wanted to get a job this summer; earn some money. But my darling mother sent me an email one day with a link to an unpaid internship application in Cape Coast through Proworld. I lovingly placed that email into my "Read Later" folder, which I just as lovingly never open. But during winter break I decided to open it up and look at the application, because, why not, right? I saw that it was a fairly easy application, it didn't cost anything, so in a few minutes, off it went, into the cyber world, and I continued my intensive summer job search.

There was a bit of email and telephone correspondence between me and the Proworld organizers, but that all seemed like pretty basic stuff. Then one day I get a call from one of them, and she says to me, "We'd like to offer you the last spot on our internship program. You have three days to accept or we will offer it to somebody else". Thus concluded my summer job search. Special thanks to Mom.

So now I find myself on the floor of my bedroom, where my blogs always seem to start out, the day before my flight out of here. Spread out around me are jumbled medical bottles, new shoes, a mosquito net, a picture of my parents, among other things, and gifts for my host family and some of the kids I so love there in Eguafo. By this time tomorrow, I'll be on an airplane, taking me far, far away from this bedroom that I grew up in.

It's weird. You know, getting ready to go abroad takes a lot of effort. It sort of makes me feel special. Like, oh, I need a haircut and and I need a new coat and I need a physical and I need my teeth checked and I need sunscreen and I need malaria pills and I need a biopsy (what?) and I need to hug my parents... So... it sure does feel like a big deal. But in the end, after all the Emergen-C and Ibuprofen and Neosporin have been shoved into the crevasses of my checked bag, I'll be fully ready to re-immerse myself into Ghanaian culture - which makes me feel especially special.

Arghhh my dad just made me cry! Not his fault, but it's just hard always uprooting myself from my parents and my California home to go places like the Netherlands, Ohio, Ghana.... because I love my parents and my sister and I love the Cali sun and my friends here and all the restaurants and shops and movies that I'm so lucky to be able to enjoy... and I'm having so much fun right now! But part of me also wants to be in Ghana, and I know that after 2 months of being there I'm not going to want to leave there, either.

Hm. Okay, well seeing as I'm not even packed yet (!!!) and I want to listen to my dad sing and play guitar some more and my family is taking me out to dinner and I want to watch a movie with my sister tonight and all that good stuff, I think it's time to sign off. I'll have more constant internet access this time around so posts should be perhaps a bit more consistent, although I can't make any promises yet. Just check back when you get a chance and see what's up. Also, I'd love to hear how you all are doing, so send me an email every now and then!

Yoh, yen ko!
(I know I used to spell this differently, but it sounds more like the real Fante when I write it this way. It means, "Alright, let's go!")

Emily

Quotes of kindness:

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. Plato

I never fully understood the significance of that quote until now.

More:
"I'll be very sad when you leave."
"You only have one week left? I'll have to watch you very well."
"I'll cry every day when you are gone. I'll think, 'Oh, I'm going to Emily's house to learn,' but you won't be there."
"You're my best friend. Do you want to know why? It's because you like learning. Every day, you're teaching me."
"You're beautiful no matter what hairstyle you have."
"Don't you know you're the volunteer of the year? It's because you teach us."
"That's why I like you. You always have time for us."

Some people are unfortunately fortunate. They never need to worry about money for high school or getting a pair of shoes or going to bed without eating. Some people believe that happiness can only come by social climbing, having the latest phone, or maybe the coolest clothes.

Well, the kids at the center are happier people than I've ever met in my life, and I think they all look great in the maybe 3 T-shirts they own.

The fact that I got to come here at all makes me an extremely lucky person - I have my parents to thank for that. But what probably makes me even more lucky was meeting the people in Eguafo. I'll never meet a more motivated person than the head of Sankofa, or someone with a more genuine smile than E2, or a cuter kid than little R.

Nobody will ever be as unintentionally delightful as A, and nobody will be so naturally entertaining as F is.

I'll never meet a more brilliant student than S, and I'll never have a better friend than E1. I wouldn't call this a village full of have-nots, because I found more here in 2 months than I have ever found in America. I'll be returning back to quiet, but maybe not to peace.

As I am sitting here in the Cape Coast Hospital with 3 children and 2 volunteers I realized that I'll be in Switzerland in almost a week. Like, no big deal, I'm going to Europe.

Most of these people have never even been out of their region, let alone the continent. I'm planning on changing that fact, so I have a lot of work to do when I get home. I have tons of ideas, and I'm going to start working on them ASAP.

You might ask me some questions.
If you ask if I've read The Cat in the Hat to a grown woman, I would say, "That's not all I can do!"
If you ask if I've ever taken a shower in the pouring rain? "Naturally!"
Have I ever almost been killed by a coconut? "You betcha!"
Have I ever hunted for and eaten African bush/suitcase snail? "Yum!"

So if you want to know if my experience in Africa has been a life-changing one, the answer is a resounding "Yes!"

Yoo, yen ko!

Emily

Success is our Failure

Let me explain something: I don't know how to explain things anymore. I could tell you a lot of good things or I could tell you a lot of bad things and either way I wouldn't be lying at all. I could tell you things that make me sad or tell you why coming here was completely worth it. I could tell you how much I've learned or grown as a person, about the people I've met, conversations I've had... Which is what I meant to be doing with this blog. But a blog can't even begin to describe my experience here. There's too much to say and too many ways to say them. There's so many sides to everything that I just can't explain it anymore. I don't even know the truth behind a lot of things, or what will happen in the future when I'm gone.

Ok. It's like this: I love you too much, but I'm so so worried about you.

That's the only way I can put it.

Emily

It's Nice to be Nice

This is what people in the city say when they're trying to get something out of me.

Example 1:
"Which of these paintings do you like? Just point to the one you like best and tell me how much you would pay for it."
"But I don't want a painting."
"It's nice to be nice."
"Ok but I still don't want one"

Example 2:
*40 year old grabs my hand while I'm dancing*
Me: "No thank you" *pulls hand off me*
"Hey, what's the problem? It's Friday night! Feel free! Let's dance."
"No" *pulls hands off me again*
"Hey, it's nice to be nice, right?" *Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that your pelvic thrusts in my general direction were an act of kindness. My mistake.*

On a happier note, how many people can say they've danced with Ghanaian orphans in the rain? This girl right here. Even though J kept looking at me like, "Good God, woman, is that really how they teach you to dance in America!?" Even so it was a blast. All of them are such fantastic dancers, I could watch them go all day.

Also, if you like tetris, you'll like this: we took all the kids to the beach on Saturday, and we managed to cram 30 people into one van. Impressed? Now that's the Ghana way. It's not often that they get to go somewhere, so it was fun to see their reactions. Especially F and A, who were both intrigued by and afraid of the water.

Ghanaian beauty standards: be big.
American beauty standards: be small.
Hmmm... are the most beautiful also the most difficult to come by?

My favorite things to buy in Cape Coast: fabric, lunch, yogurt drinks, mangoes. But then, I'm very privileged.

Because, you can eat all the animal crackers and cassava you want, but you're still going to be malnourished. How do you expect a child to do well in school when this is all they get?

But I can't keep giving people handouts. Sometimes I hate the way people ask me for things here. It's more like a command...
"Emily, where is my bread?"
"Emily, teach my class."
"Go away"
"Give me a biscuit"
"Madam, you are block my view!"
"Give me 10 pesewas (cents)"

But then there are special situations. Like what are you supposed to do...
If a girl says, "Emily, I haven't eaten since breakfast"? You know you have to give her some food.
Or if you say, "C, how many shirts do you have?" and he answers, "Two"? You know you have to give him one of your own.

Or if a little boy comes up to you and says, "I like you too much"? When you know you'll have to leave?
All I can say is,
Yoo, yen ko.
But really, it will be just me going.

Emily

My Current Train of Thought

I have a lot on my mind right now. Today I helped C learn addition and subtraction by counting out rocks. I felt pretty accomplished. I gave every kid in his family an article of clothing. I even gave J my favorite pair of workout shorts. That's when you know you've given from your heart - when you give someone something you love.

Sometimes if I am reading a book with the kids, I wonder how much they are truly understanding. But I guess it's good for them to just hear English being spoken. Especially with pictures etc.

I really want to stay longer. Already it's been one month...!!! And I feel like I've just gotten the hang of everything. I've really begun to live outside myself, which feels great. I'm not even sure I want to go back to Kenyon, at least not right away... What a different world it is! Here I have friends and there I have friends too... I suppose I need a degree in order to help people more. If I don't get a good job and earn money, how can I expect to benefit anyone? At the same time though, I've really fallen in love with the children in Eguafo. But maybe this is just the beginning of a long and fruitful journey.

So... What are you looking for?
A new pair of shoes?
A slingshot?
A chunk of raw meat?
A gigantic live snail?
Or how about a nice, medicinal dried bat?

Well, then Kumasi is the place for you! They have all that and more at the largest central market in West Africa, and I was there!

Unfortunately I didn't dare take any pictures. Taking out my camera in a place like that would not have been smart. It was so so crowded and of course everyone calls out to us because we're tourists.

Speaking of looking different, babies cry when they see me. The ones that are too young to have ever seen a white person before find me and the others very alien and scary. There's even this one little boy in the village who I always wave and say hi to. This is fine, until I start walking towards him, at which point he screams in terror and runs to his mom. I understand... But it's the first time I've ever felt this different.

Things I like:
Ghanaian children
Seeing progress that I'm making in the community and as a person
Fried plantains
Mangoes
Dresses
The other volunteers here

Things I dislike:
Being a young, white woman in Ghana
Dynamics that don't work and that I can't change

But hey, whatcha gonna do?

Anyway I realize that I haven't actually told you what I've been doing. Take that as a sign that I've been busy doing good things and having fun and haven't had much time to text my dad things to put on my blog.

Basically I've been teaching classes, tutoring one on one, writing lessons for S, hanging out with the other volunteers and villagers, and just having fun and playing with kids. Also odd things, like laundry, eating, making bracelets, sleeping, giving things to people, taking videos, observing... So yeah that's my life so

Yoo, yen ko!

Emily

Slip

Wow I have so much to say. Boy have I got some crazy stories. I'll tell you just one.

So last Sunday it rained all day. I went to church with one of my friends (let's call her S) in the morning. Afterwards, I went back home to eat lunch with the other volunteers. It was my favorite: rice ball with peanut butter soup and chicken.

As soon as I finished eating, though, S peered into the kitchen. Then, she came running in, looked out the window, and screamed, "Emily, please, you have to come with me!" She pulled me past everyone else and kept screaming, "Hurry, Hurry!" She pulled me away so fast I didn't even have time to grab shoes.

At first I thought it was a game, but soon I realized that she was actually terrified. She frantically explained, "The light pole is on fire! My sister is calling me!" That's when I heard an explosion and smelled smoke. I thought that I had to help put out a fire.

We, and many other women and children, were sprinting through the village, through the bushes and litter and sewage. S turned to me and asked, "Do you have any money?" I thought that was strange. Money won't put out a fire.

I said no and she said that we would have to take a cab to get out of Eguafo. I knew that I shouldn't get in the cab, but S looked so scared and so desperate (plus she was screaming at me me to get in) that I climbed on to someone's lap and off we went, seven of us.

By this point I was absolutely terrified. I didn't have my phone, any money, or shoes on. Everyone in the cab could see that I was scared. The guy in the front turned to me and said, "Do you believe in Jehovah?"

(Huh?) "Um, yes."

"That's why we're here."

Which is when I realized that everyone in the cab had been at the Jehovah's Witness church that morning. I asked S where we were going.

"Elmina." (The next town over.)

"For how long?"

"Until it's safe."

What??? I thought, 'I might be stuck in Elmina for days!'

As soon as everybody got out, I turned to the driver and said, "I need to get back to Eguafo."

He agreed to take me, while the others watched me go, all blank and stoney faced. Along the way, a gas pump attendant asked for my phone number, a man sat unnecessarily close to me while attacking me about America, "Why is it that you Americans are always in my country, but we Ghanaians can never go there? Are you afraid we'll take all your resources?"

"What???"

and just to make matters worse, the driver told me to sit up front, so he could stroke my hand, tell me he loved me, touch my cheek and ask for my number. Probably the last thing I needed at that point.

When we finally got back to Eguafo, I told the driver that I needed to go to my house to get the fare, and that I would be right back.

He more than doubled the fare, (5 cedis instead of 2), but at that point I just didn't care. I was just trying to hold myself together. Don't cry don't cry don't cry.

It was still raining as I got out of the cab, and I saw that pretty much the entire village was huddled under a few roofs. And all eyes were on me. I kept my eyes straight ahead, keeping my dignity, until I slipped on the mud road in my bare feet, skidding forward.

Every single person in the village burst out laughing. And then I knew it would happen. As soon as the volunteer house came into view, the tears came rolling down. Kids started swarming me.

"Is someone dead???" and the cook grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go until I told her, "I just need to pay 5 cedis to the driver."

D and M (two of the volunteers) came with me, along with the cook and a big group of kids. As we reached the main road, I could still feel everyone staring at me and could hear them snickering.

I handed the money to the driver, and the cook and the kids start interrogating and yelling at him in Fante.

When he told them where he had driven me, D shouted "Hey, it's not 5 cedis!"

At that point the driver decided to get the heck out of Egaufo, so he started to turn around. Next thing I know, he's backing straight into us, his car even touched my legs, just inches away from running me, D, and all the children behind us over.

D slammed his fist on the back of the windshield, then finally the cab took off. The cook took my wrist again as we headed for home. I wasn't going to look anybody in the eye until I heard someone say something very strange.

"You should lash her."

(Who even is this guy? I've never seen him before.)

"I'll lash you!" D cried.

The man started.

The man recovered. "You should lash her because she's afraid of fire. That's why she ran away."

That made me really mad. "I ran away to help my friend!"

"Yeah, you saved her life," he retorted.

The cook pulled me away, then stopped at another large group of people, speaking Fante with them. When I finally dared to look up at them, I saw the head of the orphanage there. He took me by the shoulders and told me to go sit at the children's center until I calmed down. I did, and I did calm down.

I walked back to the house and helped four-year old little F put his bracelet on, during which time he informed me that I was afraid of fire. That's right: a four-year old.

Anyway everything turned out ok. S and her friends came back to Eguafo, a little shaken up, but fine. The other volunteers and I played soccer at the center with the kids. It was super rainy and muddy so it was challenging but fun. And, everyone was slipping and everyone was laughing. But this time, in a good way.

Yoo, yen ko!

Emily