This weekend was a bit of an adventure here in Ghana! I went with five friends to the mountain region of Kwahu, to visit a Ghanaian friend's hometown of Mpraeso. While the bus ride took six hours as opposed to the two it was supposed to take because of traffic, we still managed to pack a lot into the two days we were there. It was funeral weekend in Mpraeso. Yes, you read that right. Funeral weekend. Funerals are a HUGE deal in Ghana and last for days at a time. Also, they save up the funerals to happen on one weekend a month or so, so during this specific weekend in Kwahu, there were probably 15 or 20 funerals happening at once. They must have good preservatives or something. Unfortunately, due to our bus delay, we missed the corspe viewing, so I'm afraid I can't tell you what a month-old dead person looks like. In any case, the streets were filled with funerals when we got there, and Chief (our friend who's town it is) said that we needed to greet all the mourners. So that's what we did. We shook 100s of hands, let me tell you. After shaking hands and getting settled in our home away from home, we set off in search of a good place to eat. Several of our group wanted a place to eat some good fufu, so Chief took us to a tiny whole in the wall sort of place, where we ground up our own onion, pepper, and ginger before being served our fufu or banku and groundnut soup. I'm still not a huge fan of fufu, but the banku is growing on me. The banku is similar to fufu in ingredients, but for some reason (of which I'm not really clear), it's a thicker consistancy than fufu. You feel more like you're eating than just swallowing. The meal was very tasty, and we all felt pretty accomplished for crushing our own spices and eating with our hands like locals.
After eating, we drove up to the highest habitable point in Ghana, which was just in the next town over. There is a church and training college at the top of the mountain, and from there we watched the BEAUTIFUL sunset. I'm not sure why this is, but I've noticed that the sun seems to set a lot faster here than at home. We watched it drop from relatively high in the sky to below the horizon in a little over a half hour. You can literally watch it drop. Is there some sort of physics lesson to that?
The next morning, we got up really early, around 5:30, and headed out into the day to hike up a mountain. Although the hike wasn't through the woods as I was sort of expecting, it was an amazing walk. We followed a dirt road up through the trees, and being that it was still really early and we were in the mountains, the mist was extremely heavy. At one point, we could barely see ten feet in either direction. It was so beautiful though, because these huge African trees (picture Lion King) would sort of rise out of the mist. You wouldn't realize they were even there until you were right under them. I took some pictures, but of course, none of them captured how incredible it was.
That afternoon I experienced something that I really don't ever need to see again. We were invited to witness a ritual done by a fetish priestess a little ways outside town. For those of you who are unfamiliar with fetish priests or priestesses, I believe its similar to voodoo. In any case, the reason for the ritual that day was as follows: A small old woman claims she had been bewitched somehow and given evil powers that she couldn't control. She confessed that with these evil powers, she had been responsible for killing many people. While she doesn't physically murder, she evidently spiritually murdered them and then soon after, they would die mysteriously of a sudden disease, stroke, or accident. She came to the priestess to cleanse herself of these evil powers because she didn't want to kill people anymore. While the ritual was all done in a different language, the jist of it was that in order to cleanse her, they needed to sacrifice a chicken and a goat to the gods and shave her head. I realized that I don't think I've ever seen an animal killed before. The chicken wasn't so bad. They really just sprinkled the blood on the alter before throwing it down to the ground where it flopped about for a while. The goat on the other hand... I don't think I've ever seen so much blood. And it was so red! It looked like paint! It was horrible to watch. After the sacrifices were over (which were successful in clearing her powers, by the way), it suddenly started to downpour. The blood washed off the alter and then the rain stopped. It was crazy. It was a fascinating afternoon, to say the least.
As we were getting ready to leave Kwahu, the village kids around the house where we stayed all swarmed us, which of course was adorable. It was a good relief from the rough afternoon experience! We danced and sang with them, played hokey pokey, and took lots of pictures, because they loved seeing themselves on camera. It was a very fun way to leave Kwahu. After the two hour ride back via tro tro, we were all pretty exhausted, but happy. Another successful weekend of never-before and never-again experiences.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Caught in a shower
Just felt like writing to tell you of a quick experience I had this morning.
Today is Friday, one of my days of no lectures, but I had a bit of running around campus to do. I came to the International Programs Office to do a little internet time (love that free internet), and then to register for my exams online (which is basically just a way of insuring that you are in fact enrolled in the right courses). Unfortunately something was wrong with my schedule in the system, so I had to go to several different buildings to get it all straightened out. The people I talked to were all very helpful though, and it went pretty smoothly. All of this really has nothing to do with my story. It's just the set up.
So I was leaving one building in pursuit of another, when I realized the weather had changed a bit since I left ISH this morning. While I had worn sunglasses on the way to the IPO, the sky now was looking pretty dark. My buildings were about a 10-15 minute walk apart, so I picked up my pace, because I didn't have an umbrella with me. The Ghanaians around me were walking pretty casually though, so I didn't let the foreboding clouds and strong leave-tossing breeze worry me too much. All of a sudden, though, I realized people were running all around me. Like full on sprinting in every direction. Confused, I looked behind (where the darkest clouds were) and realized that the sky had opened up and it was coming straight for us. It was like watching a wave come at you at the shore. You know in that split second that you will get wet no matter what. Almost immediately, huge, crushing raindrops were pouring down all over me. Following the locals, I dashed for the nearest building and stood on the porch with about 10 others to wait for the shower to stop. Eventually it did. But for those 20 minutes or so, it was as if time stood still. The streets were empty, voices were quiet. Everyone was just watching the rain.
This may seem like something unworthy of an entire post. But for some reason, this little episode made an impression on me. It had some sort of magical quality to it. The sudden chaos of trying to find cover followed by the hush of watching the rain just became one of those strange memories that I'll look back on and smile.
Monday, September 21, 2009
A New Do for a New Adventure
That's right friends and family, I got braids!!!After four hours of having my head tugged and yanked by four women, this is the end result:
While at first the braids were ridiculously heavy and hurt my head, I've gotten pretty used to them and am really enjoying having them. It definitely makes showers a lot quicker! I've gotten compliments from all different Ghanaians, both ones I know and ones I don't, saying they love my hair! It's so nice to hear, especially when I know that if I was in America, I would probably get made fun of endlessly. Don't worry, folks, I can hear the snickers from here!
Two days after getting my hair done, three friends and I decided to take a weekend trip to Kumasi, Ghana's second largest city. I've been told that Kumasi is the heart of Ghanaian culture, adn from what I saw this weekend, I'd have to agree. We hopped on a bus, and after waiting for two hours for the bus to fill up, we set off on the six hour journey. We got dropped off near our hotel, which turned out not quite as lovely as the guide book had suggested (including paying extra for an air conditioner that didn't work adn only having running water for the first part of the first night). We didn't mind too much, though, because we were off on our own! This was the first time that we had left Accra without a tour guide, and we were all just so excited to be on an adventure.
We explored the neighborhoods around our hotel that evening and found a restaurant that served us delicious chicken and rice. As one friend keeps saying, chicken and rice has been ruined for him now, because the chicken in Kumasi is just on a different level than in Accra. The next morning we got up early to find the Owabi Wildlife Reserve, known for its butterflies, birds, and Mona monkeys, located about 18 km outside the city. We first picked up a tro tro from outside our hotel that took us down to the HUGE tro tro station by the city market. From there, we somehow found a gentleman named Derek who took it upon himself to find us the correct tro tro to Owabi. He led us through the giant maze of tro tros, asking people along the way, showing countless drivers our map to Owabi, until we found the right one. We were very grateful to him and were impressed by his generosity. Although we were warned that there are plenty of people here who are just looking for a quick buck in return for directions, it's amazing how many Ghanaians we've found that are willing to go far out of their way to help us without expecting anything in return. The generous ones far out number the greedy ones.
Here is a shot of part of the huge tro tro station:
So the correct tro tro took us out of town and dropped us at the head of a dirt road in a small village called Esase.. The tro tro mate (the one who collects the fares and calls the directions) pointed us down the right road and we headed off toward Owabi. We made it to what seemed like a ranger station of sorts and was labeled Owabi Wildlife Reserve, but there was no one around. We sat and waited for about 20 minutes with no luck, and then decided to take our chances further down the road to see if we could find someone who knew where the guide might be. After walking for quite a ways down teh road, we passed a soccer field where five or six small kids were playing football. They stopped and shouted obruni at us, something that is growing very dear to my heart, and then came running over. They asked us where we were going, and just making conversation, I told them we wanted to go on the wildlife hike but couldn't find a guide. Smiling, they took our hands and told us to come with them. They led us into their small village, where other people yelled obruni at us affectionately, and up to a building. They told us our guide was in there, and amazing, he was! He put on his boots, grabbed his machete, adn led us into the forest! If it hadn't been for our tiny tour guides, we never would have found him and the trip out to the reserve would have been a waste.
Unfortunately, during the hike we didn't get to see the Mona monkeys we were hoping for, but we did hear them on several occasions. We saw and heard beautiful birds and butterflies, however, including a hornbill (which I spotted because he flew exactly like Zazu in the Lion King). Plus, the forest and surrounding area was just so beautiful. So despite the non-monkey-visual, the adventure was a success.
That afternoon, we went to the Kajetia Market, the largest market in West Africa. It. Was. Awesome. Definitely my favorite part of the trip. I'm finding it hard to describe the enormity adn extent of the market in words. It's just so huge. Rowas upon narrow rows of everything you could need. And it's systematically organized, amazingly. These twelve rows are devoted to clothing, these six to hair care, those seven to fish and snails. There is SO MUCH. We were there for over an hour and I'm sure we didn'tn cover half of it. It was exciting, breathtaking, consuming. I loved every minute of it. Plus I got lots of compliments on my hair :)
T
The next morning we were lucky to catch the bus that was supposed to be leaving at 9:30 (though we didn't get there till about 9:39 and it didn't actually leave till 10:15), so we didn't have to wait till the 12:30 bus. The trip home went fairly quickly, only about four hours. I think the African films they showed on the bus really sped things along! The first film was a Nigerian version of a Walk to Remember, called A Million Tears. I mean, it was the exact same plotline. Some exact lines, even. It was hilarious.
Overall, the trip was a success. Although we didn't do anything too exciting, it was so much fun exploring without really having a plan. I consider myself so lucky to be able to experience traveling like this.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Updates...
I realized yesterday that it has been quite a while since I last updated! Sorry to those of you who were waiting! It was an unintentional slip, I promise. While nothing quite as exciting as the weekend in Teshie happened since, here is an update on what I’ve been up to:
School is progressing nicely. I’m enjoying all of my classes, especially my Ghanaian Literature lecture. My professor for that class is a spunky relatively young Ghanaian woman who keeps lectures lively and entertaining, as well as really thought-provoking. We are currently reading Changes by Ama Ata Aidoo, who is supposedly the most famous African female author. Has anyone read any of her stuff? It was kind of disappointing to hear that she has this great reputation as the best female African writer and I’ve never heard of her. I’m realizing more and more how much African history/culture/literature is not taught in America. The only thing I remember ever learning about Africa in all my years of schooling (besides my African History class last year) is about the slave trade. Obviously, Africans have much more to contribute than slaves and the rest of the world has still failed to notice.
I finally met the professor for my New Literatures in English class today. After an extremely frustrating couple of weeks of the professor not showing up at the designated place/time and realizing she had been in a different location at a different time with half of the class, we met today to discuss when our whole class should meet and I think we got it settled. Presumably I will start that class this Thursday at 1:30 (5 weeks into the semester!!!!). I will really feel relieved once I’m in the chair with the professor in front of me, telling me what in the world “New Literatures” means.
My weekend was one of ups and downs. I went home with my roommate to her family’s house in Donsuma (an area of Accra). Looking back it seems pretty selfish of me, but I had kind of thought that the weekend would be about…well…me! I thought she would be showing me around, introducing me to her family, and I would get to experience life outside campus. Instead, it ended up being Amorkor going home for the weekend to visit her friends and family with an Obruni tagging along. There were many situations that went on for extensive hours during which she and her friends or family would be talking in Ga or Twi without so much of a break to fill me in on what was happening. This meant that I did a lot of sitting awkwardly and following aimlessly. It was pretty disappointing, to tell the truth. I don’t blame Amorkor, I just think I had a different idea of what the weekend was going to be like. On the upside, we went to a BEAUTIFUL beach called Bojo beach that was just breathtaking. As she and her boyfriend went off alone, I sat in a chair by the surf and just enjoyed the rhythm of the waves and the sunset. I can’t wait to go back to actually do some swimming (well….wading, more likely. I’m one to actually strain myself swimming).
Yesterday I had a bit of an adventure! One of my friends here in ISH, Nathan, had told me he was going to work at an NGO called Global Civic Preservation and asked if I wanted to go with him. The NGO is designed to help children who either have never been to school before or are just far behind to catch up so that they can be enrolled in normal school. Children generally spend a year at the Global Civic Preservation school before transferring into the mainstream education system. Nathan is helping them with fundraising proposals, but said he was sure they could use help elsewhere, so I tagged along. When we got there (after several Tro-tro rides and a bit of a walk), Michael, the director of the program, took us over to a Catholic school nearby where he is hoping to enroll six of the program’s kids for the new year that starts this next week. We spoke headmaster and Michael proposed an idea of starting a reading club with these children to make sure they were keeping up with their reading skills. This is where I would come in. The plan is for me to go to the school on Monday afternoons and meet with the group to read story books together. I think my main purpose is just to make sure they don’t have trouble pronouncing words and to keep them motivated. I’m so excited to get started! This is right up my alley! Plus, I think it’ll be a great little addition to my UW-Madison essay I have to finish writing next week! Helping to teach children in Africa how to read? Who wouldn’t accept me to a library science program? :)
School is progressing nicely. I’m enjoying all of my classes, especially my Ghanaian Literature lecture. My professor for that class is a spunky relatively young Ghanaian woman who keeps lectures lively and entertaining, as well as really thought-provoking. We are currently reading Changes by Ama Ata Aidoo, who is supposedly the most famous African female author. Has anyone read any of her stuff? It was kind of disappointing to hear that she has this great reputation as the best female African writer and I’ve never heard of her. I’m realizing more and more how much African history/culture/literature is not taught in America. The only thing I remember ever learning about Africa in all my years of schooling (besides my African History class last year) is about the slave trade. Obviously, Africans have much more to contribute than slaves and the rest of the world has still failed to notice.
I finally met the professor for my New Literatures in English class today. After an extremely frustrating couple of weeks of the professor not showing up at the designated place/time and realizing she had been in a different location at a different time with half of the class, we met today to discuss when our whole class should meet and I think we got it settled. Presumably I will start that class this Thursday at 1:30 (5 weeks into the semester!!!!). I will really feel relieved once I’m in the chair with the professor in front of me, telling me what in the world “New Literatures” means.
My weekend was one of ups and downs. I went home with my roommate to her family’s house in Donsuma (an area of Accra). Looking back it seems pretty selfish of me, but I had kind of thought that the weekend would be about…well…me! I thought she would be showing me around, introducing me to her family, and I would get to experience life outside campus. Instead, it ended up being Amorkor going home for the weekend to visit her friends and family with an Obruni tagging along. There were many situations that went on for extensive hours during which she and her friends or family would be talking in Ga or Twi without so much of a break to fill me in on what was happening. This meant that I did a lot of sitting awkwardly and following aimlessly. It was pretty disappointing, to tell the truth. I don’t blame Amorkor, I just think I had a different idea of what the weekend was going to be like. On the upside, we went to a BEAUTIFUL beach called Bojo beach that was just breathtaking. As she and her boyfriend went off alone, I sat in a chair by the surf and just enjoyed the rhythm of the waves and the sunset. I can’t wait to go back to actually do some swimming (well….wading, more likely. I’m one to actually strain myself swimming).
Yesterday I had a bit of an adventure! One of my friends here in ISH, Nathan, had told me he was going to work at an NGO called Global Civic Preservation and asked if I wanted to go with him. The NGO is designed to help children who either have never been to school before or are just far behind to catch up so that they can be enrolled in normal school. Children generally spend a year at the Global Civic Preservation school before transferring into the mainstream education system. Nathan is helping them with fundraising proposals, but said he was sure they could use help elsewhere, so I tagged along. When we got there (after several Tro-tro rides and a bit of a walk), Michael, the director of the program, took us over to a Catholic school nearby where he is hoping to enroll six of the program’s kids for the new year that starts this next week. We spoke headmaster and Michael proposed an idea of starting a reading club with these children to make sure they were keeping up with their reading skills. This is where I would come in. The plan is for me to go to the school on Monday afternoons and meet with the group to read story books together. I think my main purpose is just to make sure they don’t have trouble pronouncing words and to keep them motivated. I’m so excited to get started! This is right up my alley! Plus, I think it’ll be a great little addition to my UW-Madison essay I have to finish writing next week! Helping to teach children in Africa how to read? Who wouldn’t accept me to a library science program? :)
Monday, September 7, 2009
Catching Tros + Running through Teshie + Black Stars Win = AWESOME WEEKEND
Although we stayed around Accra, this past weekend was my favorite spent in Ghana so far! I experienced a lot of firsts/once-in-a-lifetimers, that will definitely make it a weekend I'll remember for years to come!
While it seems kind of silly now, my first big excitement of the weekend was Friday afternoon when I went with a few friends down to Osu, the shopping district of Accra. Although I was there last week with my roommate, this time we went without Ghanaians and took Tro-tros! I've been on a tro-tro a couple of times before, but this was the first time catching one on my own. It's really an adventure. You stand around with about 20-40 other people (Ghanaians, who know what they're doing, mind you) and wait until a tro-tro that is nearly full pulls up shouting their destination really, really fast. (For example, the Accra station is said so fast it just sounds like "Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra!") You really have to know what you're listening for, because if you're slow on figuring out what they're saying, there will already be 15 other people vying for the one open spot on the tro-tro, and you, my friend, will be out of luck. We stood on the road for a good 25 minutes before we had a successful catch. But catching it certainly felt good! The great part about tro-tros is the super cheap cost. Round trip was about 90 pesawas (60 cents). The not great part about tro-tros is the tight quarters. I couted 24 of us in the one on the way back. Keep in mind that these vehicles are not much bigger than 15 passenger vans. Super cozy.
Saturday brought one of the most insane experiences of my life. A bunch of us decided to go down to Teshie (an area of Accra on the beach) because they were having their annual festival. We didn't really know what to expect, but thought it might be an interesting way to spend the beautiful afternoon. We troed (yes, that's a verb!) down to Teshie and met up with Nii, the ISEP group's tour guide from a previous trip, because he lives and works in Teshie and knows the festival well. He and his friends led us to what seemed like a parade route. People were standing and sitting along the edge of the street, waiting for something. We didn't really understand what was happening when the first group went by. A gruop of about 40-60 people all dressed in red ran by chanting something in Ga. There were men (some wearing stuffed bras and skirts--still not sure what that was about) women and children, some barefoot, some in only socks, and they were all booking it down the street. After they passed, it was explained to us that this festival ia a time for all the different tribes from the area to come together to celebrate and to cast their sins and negative experiences into the sea. A yearly refresher, if you will. First, the tribes all make laps around the town's streets, seriously running and singing for about four hours. When they get tired, they hop out for a bit, rest, and then jump back in when their clan comes around.
We watched this for a while and walked up the route, pausing to get off the road whenever a group ran by. After we had been there for about 45 minutes, our "guides" asked if we were ready to try it. I thought they were kidding. But some of my friends were all for it, an deven though running isn't my thing (to put it extremely mildly), I wasn't about to miss out. Keep in mind that I was wearing Birkenstock sandals (the non-moldy ones), khaki shorts that were pretty loose from wear, and a nice blousy-tank top. Not exactly your calssic running outfit. I was excited/nervous, but ready for anything. I gripped the hand of one of our new Ghanaian friends, Jeff, and as a tribe ran by, he pulled me into the mass.
Now let me tell you, it was pretty intimidating just watching the people run by. But being in teh midst of it brought it to a whole new level. It was CRAZY. In this mosh-pit-like crowd, people are running into you, pushing you from behind, yanking on your arms, grabbing at your waist, and yet everyone is singing and laughing and having a great time. All while running. It was the most exhilarating experience I can remember having.
We ran for about a mile and a half. For those of you who know men, and are now rolling your eyes in disbelief, I promise I'm telling the truth. I, Emily Ward, ran for a mile and a half, under the African sun, wearing Birks, with hundreds of Ghanaians all around me. Under normal circumstances I know it would have been impossible for me to go that far. And I'm not saying it was easy, because I almost keeled over at the end. But with Jeff pulling me along, the fear of being trampeled if I stopped, and the massive amount of adrenaline pumping through me, I did it. That's something I know I'll never experience again, and I'm so glad I was a part of it. Needless to say, it was exhausting. I slept for 10 hours that night.
On Sunday, the International Programs Office organized a trip to see the World Cup qualifying football match between Ghana and Sudan. A mere 35 cedis bought us transportation, a ticket, and a jersey to wear to the game. Although I've never been to a professional soccer game, I'm going to guess, that like most other things here, the experience was unique to Ghana. The stadium was packed. We had amazing seats. I sat seven rows up in the dead center. The players sat right below us! I was able to get pictures of the players' faces, we were so close. Throughout the stadium there were huge groups, each clump wearing matching shirts. These gruops were amazing; for the entire game (and for a good 2 hours before it started) they were up singing and dancing in unison. I don't know who they all were, but they were impressive. It was exciting match, to say the least. Ghana won 2-0 and are now officially off to the World Cup 2010 in South Africa.
All in all, it was a fabulous weekend, and one that I could have only experienced in this amazing country.
While it seems kind of silly now, my first big excitement of the weekend was Friday afternoon when I went with a few friends down to Osu, the shopping district of Accra. Although I was there last week with my roommate, this time we went without Ghanaians and took Tro-tros! I've been on a tro-tro a couple of times before, but this was the first time catching one on my own. It's really an adventure. You stand around with about 20-40 other people (Ghanaians, who know what they're doing, mind you) and wait until a tro-tro that is nearly full pulls up shouting their destination really, really fast. (For example, the Accra station is said so fast it just sounds like "Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra, Cra!") You really have to know what you're listening for, because if you're slow on figuring out what they're saying, there will already be 15 other people vying for the one open spot on the tro-tro, and you, my friend, will be out of luck. We stood on the road for a good 25 minutes before we had a successful catch. But catching it certainly felt good! The great part about tro-tros is the super cheap cost. Round trip was about 90 pesawas (60 cents). The not great part about tro-tros is the tight quarters. I couted 24 of us in the one on the way back. Keep in mind that these vehicles are not much bigger than 15 passenger vans. Super cozy.
Saturday brought one of the most insane experiences of my life. A bunch of us decided to go down to Teshie (an area of Accra on the beach) because they were having their annual festival. We didn't really know what to expect, but thought it might be an interesting way to spend the beautiful afternoon. We troed (yes, that's a verb!) down to Teshie and met up with Nii, the ISEP group's tour guide from a previous trip, because he lives and works in Teshie and knows the festival well. He and his friends led us to what seemed like a parade route. People were standing and sitting along the edge of the street, waiting for something. We didn't really understand what was happening when the first group went by. A gruop of about 40-60 people all dressed in red ran by chanting something in Ga. There were men (some wearing stuffed bras and skirts--still not sure what that was about) women and children, some barefoot, some in only socks, and they were all booking it down the street. After they passed, it was explained to us that this festival ia a time for all the different tribes from the area to come together to celebrate and to cast their sins and negative experiences into the sea. A yearly refresher, if you will. First, the tribes all make laps around the town's streets, seriously running and singing for about four hours. When they get tired, they hop out for a bit, rest, and then jump back in when their clan comes around.
We watched this for a while and walked up the route, pausing to get off the road whenever a group ran by. After we had been there for about 45 minutes, our "guides" asked if we were ready to try it. I thought they were kidding. But some of my friends were all for it, an deven though running isn't my thing (to put it extremely mildly), I wasn't about to miss out. Keep in mind that I was wearing Birkenstock sandals (the non-moldy ones), khaki shorts that were pretty loose from wear, and a nice blousy-tank top. Not exactly your calssic running outfit. I was excited/nervous, but ready for anything. I gripped the hand of one of our new Ghanaian friends, Jeff, and as a tribe ran by, he pulled me into the mass.
Now let me tell you, it was pretty intimidating just watching the people run by. But being in teh midst of it brought it to a whole new level. It was CRAZY. In this mosh-pit-like crowd, people are running into you, pushing you from behind, yanking on your arms, grabbing at your waist, and yet everyone is singing and laughing and having a great time. All while running. It was the most exhilarating experience I can remember having.
We ran for about a mile and a half. For those of you who know men, and are now rolling your eyes in disbelief, I promise I'm telling the truth. I, Emily Ward, ran for a mile and a half, under the African sun, wearing Birks, with hundreds of Ghanaians all around me. Under normal circumstances I know it would have been impossible for me to go that far. And I'm not saying it was easy, because I almost keeled over at the end. But with Jeff pulling me along, the fear of being trampeled if I stopped, and the massive amount of adrenaline pumping through me, I did it. That's something I know I'll never experience again, and I'm so glad I was a part of it. Needless to say, it was exhausting. I slept for 10 hours that night.
On Sunday, the International Programs Office organized a trip to see the World Cup qualifying football match between Ghana and Sudan. A mere 35 cedis bought us transportation, a ticket, and a jersey to wear to the game. Although I've never been to a professional soccer game, I'm going to guess, that like most other things here, the experience was unique to Ghana. The stadium was packed. We had amazing seats. I sat seven rows up in the dead center. The players sat right below us! I was able to get pictures of the players' faces, we were so close. Throughout the stadium there were huge groups, each clump wearing matching shirts. These gruops were amazing; for the entire game (and for a good 2 hours before it started) they were up singing and dancing in unison. I don't know who they all were, but they were impressive. It was exciting match, to say the least. Ghana won 2-0 and are now officially off to the World Cup 2010 in South Africa.
All in all, it was a fabulous weekend, and one that I could have only experienced in this amazing country.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Pictures!
Okay, fingers crossed that this post will work. After almost three and a half weeks here, I think I finally found good enough internet access for my laptop to post a few pictures. Like I already told the fam, I'm not going to post many yet, because I want everyone to have rapt attention during my many slideshows after I'm back in the states! But to keep you interested, here are a few shots of my experience so far:
BAM. Picture #1!!! This is a picture I took my first day in Ghana. It was a "Look, I'm in Africa!!!" picture. It's taken from my balcony. Not a terrific view, but much better than those who have a view of the parking lot! It only took 15 minutes to upload. Let's try this again.
Picture numero dos: A view of the inside courtyard of my hostel. I am indeed on the top floor, and despite the flights of stairs, I really love it up there. Wonderful breeze and no misquitos. Notice in the middle of the bottom part of the picture there is a giant AIDS poster. I believe it says "HIV/AIDS can shatter your dreams. Protect yourself!" These posters are everywhere in Ghana. There in all the hostels, randomly posted around campus, on billboards on the highway, everywhere.
Here's an image of my first meal in Ghana. And my second ... and my third ... This is pretty much the meal that everyone eats on a regular basis. Like at least once a day. Jollof rice, chicken, plantains, spaghetti, and a sauce they call gravy (although nothing like gravy we're used to). It may seem like it gets boring, but I'll be honest, yesterday afternoon I had a craving for Jollof and plantains... I may be turning Ghanaian.
Here's a shot of me on one of the canopy bridges at Kakum National Park! We were hundreds of meters above the ground, suspended between treehouse-like platforms. I loved every minute of it. I wish we got to see more wildlife (besides the killer ants), but it was fun all the same.
Okay, so I was going to post one more picture of our entire Missouri Africa Program group, but of course the internet really doesn't want to let me do that. I tried 5 times. Oh well, I think four pictures is pretty good! More later!
BAM. Picture #1!!! This is a picture I took my first day in Ghana. It was a "Look, I'm in Africa!!!" picture. It's taken from my balcony. Not a terrific view, but much better than those who have a view of the parking lot! It only took 15 minutes to upload. Let's try this again.
Picture numero dos: A view of the inside courtyard of my hostel. I am indeed on the top floor, and despite the flights of stairs, I really love it up there. Wonderful breeze and no misquitos. Notice in the middle of the bottom part of the picture there is a giant AIDS poster. I believe it says "HIV/AIDS can shatter your dreams. Protect yourself!" These posters are everywhere in Ghana. There in all the hostels, randomly posted around campus, on billboards on the highway, everywhere.
Here's an image of my first meal in Ghana. And my second ... and my third ... This is pretty much the meal that everyone eats on a regular basis. Like at least once a day. Jollof rice, chicken, plantains, spaghetti, and a sauce they call gravy (although nothing like gravy we're used to). It may seem like it gets boring, but I'll be honest, yesterday afternoon I had a craving for Jollof and plantains... I may be turning Ghanaian.
Here's a shot of me on one of the canopy bridges at Kakum National Park! We were hundreds of meters above the ground, suspended between treehouse-like platforms. I loved every minute of it. I wish we got to see more wildlife (besides the killer ants), but it was fun all the same.
Okay, so I was going to post one more picture of our entire Missouri Africa Program group, but of course the internet really doesn't want to let me do that. I tried 5 times. Oh well, I think four pictures is pretty good! More later!
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