Side Effects! Afterboom. Whatever you wanna call it.

Hey Everyone!

Sorry for this delayed post. Its been a long time coming.

Honestly, I am not really sure where to start on this one. I haven’t posted since the hospital debauchal…and that’s been a few good weeks. I have been through a lot in that time. For those who don’t know, I got put on medication when I left the hospital. When I was about three days into the medication, I had a nervous breakdown/panic attack. It was quite possibly one of the scariest things I have ever experienced. I felt isolated, sudden really hot, was hyperventilating, having small hallucinations…the whole works. I quickly went to Kim’s room and told her what was going on, but nothing really could be fixed. We started to watch harry potter but I couldn’t focus and instead sought solace from my dad’s voice. I called him and he began the process of helping to calm me down. After our phone call I suddenly realized how far away I was from home and just started sobbing (mind you, I have never gotten this emotional here). Kim ended up going to bed when I said I was fine, and instead I just ended up crying for a really long time. One of those ugly cries, you know? I took a shower hoping it would help, but honestly nothing was really helping me. I ended up talking to people online like Steve Bauder, Ethan, and eventually I calmed down. I thought the worst was past me. I hung out with my friends and just stayed in their presence to calm me down. I passed out and woke up the next morning for my 7:30 am Play Analysis Class. Kim slept in and skipped, so it was just Maggie and I. We got there, and I was fine at first, but then started having a similar breakdown, if not worse. I felt as if the world was ending and I was going to be crushed by it. I won’t give the details on to exactly what my mind was twisting (all of  my thoughts were not rational…) I worked my way through class resisting the urge to run outside and get sick because I felt so unsettled by what was happening in my brain. I began to stare at things around me trying to allow them to ground me to reality, to what reminded me of my logical state. It was hard, and I consistently failed. Tried to stare at a girls hair, a notebook, Maggie’s doodles next tome, it got consistently harder until I just started scribbling down my thoughts instead of notes. They were random and scattered, linked mainly towards spirituality and being unsettled. We finally left class and I practically ran back. Maggie noticed something was wrong,

I went to my room and tried to sing. It didn’t help. I pulled out my bible and read a few passages. It didn’t help. I emailed Ethan (which I later had him delete immediately) and that definitely didn’t help. I forced myself to go to Maggies and I tried to nap with her. I couldn’t sleep. It then occurred to me that perhaps these breakdowns were side effects to my medicine. As it turns out on the third paragraph of side effects it said, “convulsions and psychotic reactions such as restlessness, agitation, anxiety, depression, and confusion.” Bingo. I called my mom and a CIEE representative to meet me for coffee. I brought the packet with me to show to her. Luckily, she happened to be a psych major so some of this craziness made sense to her. We talked for awhile and we established that since I have never experienced depression before, it was clearly a side effect. It had also slipped my mind that I am sensitive to medication (this summer I had a bad reaction to vicodin). We decided that I should stop taking the medication and instead go to the doctor and get another prescription with less side effects. I received a phone call from our program director and we set up a meeting with the psychologist on staff to further the evaluation.

I met with her, and after confirming what I had thought before, we went through steps for me to take in order to get through the next few days. Unfortunately, the medicine had to work its way out of my body still. Therefore, I still would be experiencing side effects. She also helped calm my fears about not being “normal”. I felt as if I was losing part of myself. I don’t really know how to describe it. I was scared. I wanted my mom to hold me and my dad to talk to me in soothing tones and to not have to deal with this inside a completely new country. Sometimes you need more than your friends, you know? I desperately wanted Ethan to be there, holding my hand telling me it was going to be alright. God, it was hard. Still is.

I had a good meeting with her, I went to the doctor later that day, got new medication., and sought out support from my friends and from Christina (the CIEE rep). I would text her whenever I felt depression and anxiety come on, and she would remind me that it was only temporary and that it would pass. And yes, I am still normal. I was going through the motions. Forcing myself to interact with people and get outside of my head. I had a black hole that was constantly trying to pull me back in. I had to fight against it. I got momentarily distracted by Maggie and her birthday (we celebrated and went to a fancy Italian restaurant- I got a really strange drink called the Wasabi Slut Monkey hahahahah….it was her 21^st.).i had moments of clarity and relaxation paired with anxiety and small breakdowns. I continually was fighting. It was annoying. My parents, Sam, my siblings, and Ethan became my outlets and I cannot thank them enough for dealing with how psychotic I was. In particular my parents. I am by far the luckiest girl in the world to be a part of their family. I would, without a doubt, die for them. Ethan was there for me to vent to, to listen, to stare, to offer support in any way he could. I have never regretted our decision to stay together. He’s amazing.

It took me a few days to go back on the other medication. I was sacred of more side effects and wanted to just forget the medication altogether. But I wasn’t feeling 100 percent better, so after consulting my doctor (my sister) I decided to go for the plunge. I was starting to feel more normal so I figured I should try it. I did finally get better with the stomach, but I am steal dealing with the after effects of the meds. I know it seems ridiculous, but it seemed to trigger a lot of hidden thoughts, anxieties, and insecurities about my trip here, my distance from home, and thoughts of the people I missed. I would walk around daydreaming about them, having vivid dreams (not such a rare thing for me, unfortunately), calling them constantly, it was rough.

Just this week I had that point in the trip where I just wanted to go home. I laid down on my friends lap and just cried and let it all out. It is “damn” hard here (reference for my mom J). Its been getting hotter (if that’s possible) so we are getting heat headaches, my room has had no water for over a week, and I am still dealing with mental side effects. I talked to my dad about coming home early (my finals end on December 7^th, I fly out the 18^th) and luckily, it was, and still is a viable possibility. It would only cost 60 US dollars (unheard of, I know). He said he would have no problem with it and would love to take care of me at home. However, I was hesistant to change my ticket. Even after I had been told by the psychologist and the program director to go ahead and do it, I wanted to see if I could stick it out. I’m only here once, right? No one said it was going to be easy. I am living proof of that. Long story short, I still have my original departure flight. I have a few more days to change it if I want to, but I am doing my best to work through it. There is something nice about everyone leaving together as a group. Knowing we worked through it as a community. That’s a rare thing to be a part of. Some people search for that. I have it here, without even trying.

The funny thing is, you will have a terrible day here, yeah, and you realize you have nothing to do but sit around in each other’s beds and watch videos of bassett hounds on youtube and look at Maggie’s computer folder entitled “Cats” which is full of the funniest cat photos I have ever seen…but then you realize when will I ever do this again? When will these photos ever be this funny? During our last dance class I was haunted by my thoughts of Charles’ dance class at Muhlenberg. For those who don’t know, Charles Anderson taught a dance class at Muhlenberg called African Dance and Culture. I was obsessed with it. Here in a dance class, actually in Africa, is just crazy, How did I get here? I am dancing in a circle with Ghanaians, laughing, sweating my skin off, touching people’s butts, jumping in the air, feeling as if I am a part of something greater, something more sacred. A community. I step in people’s sweat, I see the imprint of our bodies on the floor that are left when we stand. I see the bare feet of all the dancers and the loud, reckless singing of the students around me. Hell, I see international students dancing with Ghanaians like they ARE Ghanaian. How far have we come? Very far. How much have I changed? Very much. How much do I appreciate things? There is no way to measure.

Someone told me that Africa is not for the faint-hearted, or the weak. I disagree. I am faint-hearted, I am weak, malleable, susceptible, terrified of what’s to come, and scared of missing out on life around me. I hate the heat, I hate being dirty, and I miss turkey sandwiches and starbucks coffee. I am weak, but Africa has made me strong. Ghana.

I couldn’t write this entry for awhile because I was too emotionally drained and unstable. I promised to be honest with y’all, and I know it might be uncomfortable. But so is life. We have finished classes as of three days ago. Now we are entering revision week (basically study week). Finals for us start on Wednesday. We have had re-entry orientation….the end is coming. Time never stops moving…even when my fan breaks. Doom.

But, even though I have reached a place where I can actually type these things out, I am still a slight mess. I would appreciate prayers, positive energy, anything you can send my way. Because even though the days keep moving here, it doesn’t make them any easier. 

Nyaho Medical Centre. My Hospitalization!

Alright. Hospital time. Jessie apparently sucks at the whole not getting sick thing. I mean, being me, I knew I was probably going to eventually contract something horrific and deadly. Simply because when I came to Ghana I wanted to be challenged. Ah yes, Jessie, bring down all of the challenges you ever wanted to face and place them in a four month and a half period. That’s basically what I asked for, and what I received. And there is still more to come!

All week I have been experiencing some weird stomach pains. About an hour or two out of each day I would have to lay down and deal with some nausea. But I never threw up or anything. So I figured it was fine for the time being. Thursday I ended up having to skip dance and a rehearsal because I was feeling ill, and then when I woke up on Friday I felt just as bad, if not worse. I figured it was time to get my stuff together. headed downstairs with a upal supporting me, threw up a little, it was a blast. Haha. We headed to a cab (Maggie, Kim and Evans, our wonderful upal) and I went to Nyaho Medical Centre. We had been to a hospital “Dwelling” before (I put it in quotes because literally, I am not kidding when I say this, it looked and felt like you were in jail) and therefore, I was terrified of going to the hospital. However, after we haggled with the taxi man (you cant even get someone to give you a good price when you are ill) I was pleasantly surprised to feel like we were approaching a hospital when I got there.

Sidenote- the hospital we had our friend Elice in was actually really terrifying. It didn’t feel clean, her sheets looked weird, no air conditioning, the visiting hours were from 6 to 7 am, communal bathrooms, etc. It freaked as of us out. And we couldn’t stay overnight with her, and it was her first time (and mine) in a hospital overnight. Talk about scary. We are in another country for godssake.

Anyway, I got lab tests down that tested for malaria, typhoid, and they checked my cells and such. I went to sit down after the labs and then suddenly felt sick again. Basically, I didn’t make it all the way to bathroom, and guys helped me into a wheelchair and brought me to the doctor immediately to lay down and get medicine. Of course, sitting in the wheelchair all I thought about was Wesley and I when we were both in wheelchairs after we got our wisdom teeth out. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry, I am completely dying from laughter remembering how funny and ridiculous we were. My poor mother…but watching Wesley trying to eat a frosty with a numb mouth was quite possibly worth every ounce of discomfort I experienced those few days. Another sidenote, we didn’t even remember being in wheelchairs. That’s how drugged up we were. Basically, what everyone should gather from this is that one should always bring a videocamera to record everything that goes on between me and my brother. We are psychotic and always ready to laugh. Miss you, fatty.

Anyway, back to the hospital. Despite all of the men whispering malaria malaria over and over to themselves, I hoped to God that wasn’t what I had contracted, and luckily it turned out to be a gastro-intestinal infection or something.  I had a high white blood cell count, which clearly meant nothing to me. Really wish my favorite doctor Julie had been there. Haha when I got back I showed my friend the medication and she said, did you ask your sister about it yet? She knows me so well…

They gave me an IV, and some medicine for the acid in my stomach and a few other things. Maggie and Kim came in when they saw me staring at my hand looking all confused….but yeah apparently one of the side effects to the medicine they were giving me was fuzzy vision. I freaked out because I thought I was going crazy and would have to get glasses finally and join the rest of my family in their blindness (I am currently the only one in my family without glasses/contacts).  But when I looked to the doctor in confusion she said not too worry and that it was a normal side effect. Kim and Maggie got a good laugh from that because I was freaking OUT. I finally went to sleep for a bit and then they told me I had to stay for the night. The expenses were high…but apparently in Ghana there is a doctor strike going on. So honestly, I had no choice but to stay. Also, through our insurance, we get reimbursed for everything spent. Its just taking care of money on my own is stressful and I feel like I am spending so much here because we have no meal plan. Sigh. I can’t wait to have break with my family and not to worry about what I have to eat for once. It will be nice to have meals planned out. Thanks for that, mama.

I got sent to a ward that already occupied two female patients. However, it was really nice and clean. And air conditioned. And I had a choice as to what I received for food. I felt so incredibly lucky to be placed under such care. Evans had stayed with me until Mr. Gyasi arrived (who ended up paying my ward overnight deposit- I didn’t have enough cash on me). They brought me food because I hadn’t eaten all day and eventually left when I received dinner. There was even a small tv! I saw a commercial for Nigerian Idol and peed my pants a little. It reminded me of all the times I used to watch American Idol with my mom after finishing my homework in highschool…I feel very old. I miss those days a lot now. Especially recently.

Continuing with my adventure, I received a visit from another doctor who knows my friend Gifty who lives here. Long story short, my dad works with a lady named Joyce in America, and she is from Ghana. When she learned I was here, she told her sister (Gifty) and consequently, I met her and her beautiful husband and daughter. They have been so welcoming. I had actually been planning on staying with them this weekend and going to church with them, but the plan obviously fell through. When she heard I was in the hospital, she sent her brother over who is apparently a doctor. Somehow he got through and came to visit me. He was supremely nice and asked how I was feeling. Ghanaian hospitality…hits me in the gut all the time. So many act selflessly here and I have no idea how they do it. I pray and hope that someday I can be that selfless in my acts towards others. He doesn’t even know me and came out to see me. On top of that, I was visited by Maggie, Elice, and the other Kim who brought me snacks (peanut butter, apples, crackers, pretzels) and some essentials (pj pants, toothbrush, deodorant, Molly- my infamous stuffed animal- YES I AM FIVE YEARS OLD I KNOW, my ipod, and some things to read. They hung out for a bit and all hugged my good bye. Oh, I almost forgot, they also brought me minutes for my phone. I cannot believe how above and beyond people go here for each other.

I must say, I have never felt so protective of a group of people before. And I know it is universal. Here, if someone is ill, or has any type of problem, we all gather around them and do everything in our power to make sure they feel better. We are there for each other. We all are we have. Yes, its scary. Yes, it forces you to think about others above yourself. Yes, it makes you realize how incredibly lonely you were before when you lacked such an intimate support system. Yes, you feel loved. So loved. I got to call my mom and boyfriend. Hearing your mom’s voice break on the phone sucks though. Whenever she cries, I cry. So that was rough. But, heck, my mom, she is amazing. She has the most fierce type of love for her children and she believes in the power of prayer. She contacted my best friend, her bible study group, and some members of church whom all were praying for me. Once again…from far away I felt loved. It’s different. Knowing that people are pulling for you when you never even met them.

Even under the great conditions I was in, I experienced terrible longing and homesickness. However, at the same time, I could not believe how lucky I was.  I read an entire book while I was there. It was part of the Mark of the Lion Series by Francine Rivers. Well, let me tell you. That book led me through emotional turmoil and reflection. I have been seeking God. Or seeking peace. Or seeking acceptance. All are the same to me. I know what I yearn for has to do with my soul/spirit. I apologize now for anyone who is not religious and has no desire to read about such things. If that is the case, then you may not want to read further. I am not, in any way trying to push my views upon anyone, I am merely just relating what I believe is occurring within me while being here.

I feel unrest. Peace is not a common thing found- and even when it is, I find it to be fleeting at times. An Echo in the Darkness is an entire book about how different people seek peace. Searching and seeking God, or some sort of glue to piece their lives back together. I know regardless of what everyone says, we are all broken. Its just true. We are broken. Some pieces just don’t fit together right. And we try and fill in the holes with certain things and sometimes we think we succeed. It all depends on if the glue you are seeking is something akin to a gluestick or super glue. You know, the kind that actually melds one hand to the other when not properly applied. Anyway, it just so happens that this book also talks a lot about healing and those who are physically ill as well as emotionally. Reminders of miracles threw me back to Sunday school and left me thinking a lot about the two women around me. One woman, yelling in pain every hour or so, the other one next to me with her eyes swollen shut and unable to walk the few feet to the bathroom. I felt lucky to have been so fortunate in what ails me. Who knows? I could have had so many more ailments that were more painful, and needed more treatment. I have all of my limbs, safely intact, and how is that? Why am I lucky enough to have such a functional body while the woman next to me can only see out of one eye? Why have I been chosen to have fully functional eye sight? And so began the churning of thoughts.

In the morning I was greeted with breakfast and a few more visitors. I received attention from two different doctors, one saying I would have to stay another night. I quickly told her that wasn’t necessary, and somehow was able to convince her I was fine. Honestly, there are more people that need more help than I do. The bed should be put to better use. Then a woman came in and asked if it would be okay if some people from Christ’s embassy came in and gave me a free book. Giving the manner of what I was reading, I immediately said yes. Intrigued that I would be visited by someone from a church at this hospital…surely not a coincidence. I was handed a book called “Healing From Heaven”. The woman asked if I was a Christian, and then if she could pray over me.  I said yes and rested again in the fact that mamy were praying, and how weird is it that here I am contemplating and thinking again about the journey to God, and I am faced with a woman who wants to pray over me? A tall, obruni girl? These women dedicate there time to going around to people in the hospital hoping to bring another level of healing upon them. Regardless of belief, one must admit how sacrificial there were being with their time.  As it happens. On of the girl goes to the University and got my number to look me up in a few days. Ghanaian hospitality. I honestly opened the book and cried. Just because. Because I am a basket case in a hospital willing myself to feel better and to stop feeling so pathetic because I don’t have the comforts of American hospitality (my mother). Because I had never felt so lonely. Because I knew I was receiving a challenge, a test in my faith. Whether it was a test of my faith in God, or in my faith in myself. Either way, I learned a lot just from being there. I felt a warmth knowing that I was being taken care of. I am a firm believer in that things happen for a reason. I don’t believe in just coincidences…some people call it foolish- but sometimes small things can end up changing the course of one’s life. I was sick, and needed to know that I could handle it. Needed to know that when I am ready to not be alone ever again, I can make that choice.

I gorged on peanut butter, finished my book, and was visited by hordes of other nurses (I think they just wanted to see an obruni, haha). I received the kindest of care, and finally received my pills so I could leave. They removed my IV, and I was free to go with the promise I would come in two weeks from now for a quick checkup.

Yeah. That was quite the narrative. Sorry folks, I promised to be honest and very personal. Now, before I give in to the urge to read over this and cut out some sentences I wrote that might make some uncomfortable, I am going to post it without thinking.

Kumasi: Part Two

Saturday we got up early for breakfast where I luckily had access to coffee. Nescafe- but still. Its better than nothing. We headed out early and went to a village presentation. Our guide for the day was adorable. He was short and apparently designed the kente cloth design that was used for Obama when he came to visit Ghana. Pretty awesome. We walked into the main center- I’m blanking on the name but it was a place for prayer and for offering. People came to talk to the king. A special room in the center is only opened every forty days for select offerings. Here was where the chief mother dealt with some commoners. Women came to ask for fertility and beg for children (being barren here is a tragedy). They would come and sacrifice a lamb. A part of the lamb’s spine was left behind and added to a string to document the offering:

The bananas were said to be the food for the Gods. It was an offering that was always left and replenished. The guide had a helper who was hysterical. He wanted pictures with all of the ladies and passed out pictures of him with other obruni females to ensure us that he wasn’t actually creepy (which, in effect, proved the opposite). The building was covered with symbols (Adinkra symbols) that all had very specific meanings.  Here are some pictures of the room:

This was our main tour guide. 

This was the creepy/funny man. 

These were also in the room. They are called talking drums. Usually one is pitched higher than the other and is played by the female. the male uses the lower pitch drum to respond. As many probably know, there is a drum language that is used here. Literally in the middle of drumming class our teacher will start saying the phrases he is drumming out. I think the language is more implied than literal, but there is a specific communication that is uniquely Ghanaian. Pretty cool. 

"It is the heart, not the horns, that leads a ram to bully."

Sankofa. "It is no taboo to return and fetch it when you forget. You can always undo your mistakes."

The building was decorated with various pictures and maps indicating different aspects of the Ashanti culture. One dictated the aspect of economics, education, etc. There were randomly turtles dispersed in the middle of the yard and the man told us that they represented the Ashanti chief- basically represented that universal phrase, “slow but steady wins the race”. The Ashanti are said to deal with matters slowly but forcefully. There was a boy in the corner who was charging our upal money for the use of our cameras in the courtyard. Silliness. Any way these people can get money, they will exploit and use. As we were leaving the village, I was struck by the fact that I can just leave. I am such a tourist. We just fininshed reading the book, A Small Place by Jamaica Kincaid which talks about Antigua and its struggles in globalization and colonialism. She talks about how when tourists come to the island they see Antigua as beautiful and charming. They fail to see what lies underneath the obvious beautiful- which is, of course, the obvious flaws and corruption. I am SUCH a dork but these quotes from the book really hit me and I think they would be helpful and insightful...

On being a tourist and observing what's around you, "you needn't let that slightly funny feeling you have from time to time about exploitation, oppression, domination develop into full-fledged unease, discomfort; you could ruin your holiday. They are not responsible for what you have; you owe them nothing; in fact, you did them a big favor, and you can provide one hundred examples."

"The thing you have always suspected about yourself the minute you become a tourist is true: A tourist is an ugly human being. You are not an ugly person all the time; you are not an ugly person ordinarily; you are not an ugly person day to day."

This quote really hit me. Because I am absolutely that ugly tourist. And I hate that. Last one, I promise:

"They are too poor to escape the reality of their lives; and they are too poor to live properly in the place where they live, which is the very place you, the tourist, want to go- so when the natives see you, the tourist, they envy you, they envy your ability to leave your own banality and boredom, they envy your ability to turn their own banality and boredom into a source of pleasure for yourself."

Really opens your eyes, right? I feel very vulnerable here. All of the material I am reading and taking in seems to hit nerves that I always had but never wanted to slice open and probe. A lot of the material sucks, because America is America. It is stupid, it is proud, it is great, it is "free". But honestly all I keep thinking about is what i will say that dreaded day when I am home and someone asks me, how was Ghana? My answer, I don't understand it. And never will. We are here for four and a half months. Longer than any other of the programs this semester. And yet, it is STILL not enough time here to unpack. Heck, a year wouldn't be long enough. It's just too much. I love it, but hate that when I get back, America will still be the same. 

Anyway, after the village we drove away and went to the Kente village. As I mentioned before, the Kente cloth is incredibly significant to the Ashanti. It takes much longer to weave because they weave in symbols and sometimes make the fabric not just single, but double and triple woven. This means that each side can have a different design. Pretty awesome. They were super expensive though. Of course, we were overcharged, so bargaining was a must. A man tried to sell me things while our guide was giving a presentation and our guide flipped out and yelled at him. I was clearly in love. When we went inside, we were hounded by people, as usual. Everyone had their own stand and fabric. I ended up buying two pieces, one single woven and the other double. I got the single for 18 (still overpriced) but the double for 20 which was an awesome deal. Here was our guide with some of the cloth:

This was the sign above the store. 

People continued to try and sell us things and we headed back onto the bus. It never ends. Even when you are sitting down on the bus they will tap on your windows, try and get on the bus, do everything in their power to get your last few cedis. It's ridiculous. There were children asking for money. I wanted to cry because they were so adorable. I did get some cute pictures of them though (again, I hate being a tourist, but there is no use in resisting). 

See, the second you give one of them money, all of them will hoard you. Believe me, I've learned from experience. It sucks. After we left the Kente, we went to another village specifically focused on the Adinkra symbols on cloth and we got to see how the dye is made for the symbols. They pound bark, and then heat it for a certain amount of days until it thickens. The process is a little more complicated than that, but its the basic gist. 

A family was living right there and doing their laundry during the presentation. I suddenly found myself becoming very grateful for my dorm room...

We all got to take turns using the stamps of the symbols and putting them on cloth. It was very cool, but definitely a short stop in our huge collaboration of events over the weekend. 

Right when we were about to leave a man (among many others) was trying to sell a slip of kente cloth for 1 cedi. My friend maggie decided to get it after she asked him and made sure it was the whole strip of cloth and then passed him a cedi. He quickly took the money, and cut the strip in half. She was so mad. He ran away, out of the village and she got off the bus to find him. Eventually the village people felt so bad, because they couldn't find him, that they gave her an even larger strip free of charge. Silliness. But so rude. We then went to a place for food, I got a calzone. So random, but delicious. Then some decided to go back to the market, while others decided to go back and chill before dinner. I decided to go back and chill. I slept, read and did some homework, and then slept some more. The power went out again. haha. We had dinner, I watched Fired Up with some girls (courtesy of Ethan Sachs) and then fell asleep. Sunday was really uneventful...we woke up, had breakfast, and then had three hours to do whatever. I showered, read some more, and did nothing but relax in the air conditioning. We had a quick lunch and then headed home. It was a long trip, and I filled some of it by listening to an old sermon by my favorite pastor...Rob Reimer. It was a random weekend of reflection and fun. 

Kumasi, CIEE Trip #3

Weekend trip number three! Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your viewpoint) this trip started on a Friday morning and went till Sunday- so I had to miss my Friday classes again. Luckily, my professor for Dramatic Theory and criticism didn’t mind at all, and this week even asked how the trip went and postponed class for a bit to discuss Kumasi and what we had seen. He is probably one of the cutest, weird men alive. He is very thin and has extremely dark skin. Like, his eyes practically glow. He is older- probably at least in his sixties. He uses his hands excessively when talking and contorts them very intricately when emphasizing his points. One of my friends named Kelly (literally the epitome of a theater major, she is completely terrifying in her enthusiasm about EVERYTHING) pointed this out to me, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I guess as actors we are trained to pay attention to such things. Haha.

Anyway, we left at six in the morning. You can imagine my delight. I literally wanted to cry when I decided to not drink coffee because I wanted to sleep on the bus. I purposefully packed Excedrin knowing that I would receive a caffeine headache. I packed oaties for the road though (an oatmeal cracker/cookie thing which are amazing when put with peanut butter- like nutter butters). We left and our upal Gideon decided to steal my camera and take attractive pictures of everyone sleeping. Not. Nice. I will post them, of course.

Sam. 

Jess.

Camille. Good thing she doesn't read my blog...she would KILL me. 

HAHAHA. Megan. Also would kill me. 

Hannah (Kim's roommate).

Both of these are Ofori. Win. 

Kumasi is about four hours away but with traffic and the common dirt roads, it took around six hours. However, apparently we made good time. About half way there we stopped at a rest stop which  was really cool. I wish I had taken pictures. Mainly because it was the first legit rest stop I have seen. There was food, a public restroom which you had to pay to use- but you got free toilet paper! Wooooo. But they had burgers, pastries, sodas, iced milo (a delicious chocolate energy drink that Julie liked so much when she came that she took some back with her) and many other things. It was called the Linda Dor rest stop. We continued traveling and made our way to our hotel called Treasure Land. It was down a random road which did not look like a road that would house a hotel. It was vacant besides us. Which I guess was a good plan because we were a pretty large group- at least thirty or so.

We got there and I ended up rooming with a girl named Neyat. It was cool because for some reason Kim transferred to the other group with Maggie and my two other close friends so this trip gave me the opportunity to mingle with other people and get a break from my usual crowd. Our room had a air conditioner, a fan, a hot shower, and everything else I could possibly want. The shower had two shower heads which confused me. I used both? Yeah, I clearly am adept in the way showers function. It was funny because I must have looked crazy in the shower. I couldn’t decide which head to use. And since I was so tall, I had to duck for some of it. I am literally constant entertainment for myself.

We grabbed lunch at the hotel which ended with fan ice for dessert (a popular ice cream brand here- sometimes it comes in bags just like the water and you just bite off a corner and suck the ice cream out. Convenient and portable!). then we headed to the asante palace museum. We ran into some peacocks:

Unfortunately, none showed their plumage.

This was the palace from the outside. 

A side part of the palace. 

I was mad because we weren’t allowed to take pictures inside of the museum. I will do my best to paint the picture though.  The group was split in half and part of us got the tour while the other part watched a short film. I started with the tour. There were wax models of people in every room. And even though they told us they were wax I consistently screamed silently whenever I saw one. Apparently they have complete use of their limbs as well- so they change the positions of the models every few days or so. So they are robots. Nightmares.

Some of the things in the household (because it was a past palace, super cool) still worked. Such as the fan, the record player, etc. They also had the first TV in Ghana put in their household, which was really interesting.  Around the house were paintings with cool captions and random glass cases with weapons, special vases, and footstools that were only used by the kings and chief mothers. The king chose his female companion of the throne from his family. Usually it was their mother or aunt. The king was more of a figurehead than an actual ruler. Apparently the chief mother did most of the “king” duties by talking with locals and dealing with issues presented through the society. I liked that quite a bit- considering how little females are featured in Ghana. However, regardless of her position of power, she is still seen as less than the king. Which sucks.

Sidenote- I saw some things this week that made me question my gender stereotypes within this society. On the tro- tro there is a mate that takes care of all of the money handling and where the stops are made, and they are usually male. However, I didn’t realize this until for the first time I saw a female mate. I did a double take when I saw her. I was clearly confused. Moreso, because I realized I never would have thought about the fact that this role seems to be exclusively male unless I had seen something different. I also realized that most of the people selling water on the street are female. Random, but again I noticed this when I saw a man doing it and it freaked me out a bit to see something “out” of the norm. However, how the heck do I know what the norm here is? It’s easier for me to assume I know so much after being here for two months. But I still know nothing.

After the tour of the house we watched the short film which basically discussed aspects of the Asante culture and how it is honored here. They have festivals every 40 days where the king and chief mother get highly adorned in gold and kente cloth and are paraded through the streets in chairs supported on the heads of four individuals. We saw some clips, and I was once again struck by how strong their necks must be. Those muscles are insane. After the palace, we headed to the largest market in West Africa. The market already is intimidating, but this one was out of control.

First of all, it was hot as anything. So we were cramped and melting- but actually. It was gross. You couldn’t even see the whole market. That’s how huge it was. They were selling everything from clothing, shoes, fabric, jewelry, to live stock and car parts. It was easy to get lost. I eventually gave up staying with the same group of people and ended up wandering around by myself. I got cat called, people yelled, “Sistah! Come look at my beautiful things. I give you special price.” I want to yell back, and sometimes I did. A few people grabbed me, I ripped my arm away. Being touched by men and women in the market is aggressive and annoying. I miss being ignored by employees in the states. You can just walk around and browse without being bothered. But here you look at something and they run over and bring it down for you. You have to practically yell, “No! I am just looking, please.” This is probably why its so hard to find souvenirs for people. They hassle you so much you can hardly think.

I eventually got a few things and then found some clothes….my weakness. Thanks mom. I got three dresses, two pairs of pants, and a shirt for ten cedi. It was AWESOME. All of the clothing is slowly and sheer- Indian-esque. I will be wearing it in the states regardless of everyone’s stares. They can deal. After the market we headed back to the hotel and did show and tell with the upals. Our chaperones were the best. They helped us shop and loved all of my clothing purchases. LOVE THEM. They are such great shoppers. I actually modeled my first skirt that I got made here from Janet’s skirt (one of our chaperones).

We went back to the hotel and grabbed dinner…which included cheeseburgers? I was so confused. But they were good! We had chocolate pancakes for dessert. I was very pleased. The night ended with a few people chilling by the pool and talking about being here- catching up and interacting with new program members. We all grabbed beers and just relaxed. It was really chill. HA. Oh and funny story, we lost power at this hotel about five or six times. It was ridiculous. I laughed each time. I just thought it was funny because I can picture how I would react in the states…something akin to me screaming or being mad. Here, I just say oh well, laugh, and then go back to sleep. Or grab some form of alcohol (those are for the special times when we have no water and power. That’s rough.)

Classes: Halfway Point

I have been experiencing difficulty in finding the motivation to write this next entry…,mainly because there is just so much to say, and I have no idea where to start. Let’s see…

I am now getting more adjusted to my classes- but this has been QUITE the struggle. I think we have finally accepted the fact that in our theater scholarship courses, we will not be learning a lot. Culturally, I feel like I am learning loads, but not academically. However, we have been exposed to a variety of different materials, which is always nice. And I have finally read Hamlet (yeah…I hadn’t read it yet. Oh well.) We have been assigned many plays such as Tears of Lucifer (a play by our own teacher), The Dilemma of a Ghost, Edufa, etc. Even if we aren’t getting the “analysis” of the plays like we thirsted and hoped for when we joined these classes, I still find that I am learning, regardless.

This past Tuesday (two Tuesdays ago) I had an unfortunate battle with my Play Analysis teacher (we have so affectionately coined the class ”Play Anal”). You see, instead of analyzing plays, we have been debating about matter such as “which speaks more to the essence of drama- comedy or tragedy”, “does a society make a play, or does the play make the society”, “should the playwright be celebrated?”, etc. incredibly frustrated that we were discussing such mundane points that either had no answer or an answer so obvious that it could hit in the head, I decided to do some reading during class. Of course, I did not hide it. I was close to the front. Some choice quotes from the debate, “Tragedy. Just think about it.” Followed by a long pause, and that was the end of the principle speaker’s speech. I rolled my eyes and through myself into Maya Angelou’s work instead. I decided she was more worth my time. However, after the class, the professor beckoned to me and said, “You weren’t paying attention in class.” I said, “yeah. I was reading.” When he asked why, I told him that what we were discussing confused me, and I didn’t find it to be important.

Yeah.

That went over well. Let’s just say that my frustration had hit a certain level over the academics here. Keep in mind that we have FOUR WEEKS of classes left, and we have YET to analyze a play in this class. Which is the CLASS TITLE and DESCRIPTION. I was beyond aggravated. More so because Maggie and Kim weren’t paying attention as well but I got talked to. Haha. Petty, yes. But one of my huge things is getting into trouble- I hate it. Believe it or not, the funny thing is, I have only ever gotten into trouble in class for reading. Sometimes I cant help it if I have a good book with me. But, I was clearly being disrespectful. Sigh. Ghana. Learning learning learning. Previously in this class when I made a statement in regards to the debate, I made an enemy. She came up to me after class with a determined face on and said, “I did not agree with anything you said. You were wrong.” I said….”okay.” Then after staring at me exasperated for awhile, she walked away deciding to leave it at that. One thing I have noticed about myself is how I have become more confident in the way I hold my body and speak to others. I have no longer been apologizing to people about my opinions, the way I react to things, even the way I dress and present myself. I have slowly been discovering that there is nothing wrong with the way I am. I am imperfect, and a screw up, but I like being confident in my screwed-upness.

These past two weeks have brought my fist University assessments and I have found another level of frustration- but it is something that I have dealt with before in just terms of grading and how different teachers tackle it. This week I had a test in my Music of West and central Africa class and I can’t tell you how nice it was to be studying for something. I forgot how much I missed the feeling of learning loads of information and finding really ridiculous acronyms to prompt my memory. I am a HUGE acronym person. When we took the test, I felt such a satisfaction knowing all of the answers and being able to write myself into a writing hand cramp. I felt productive for once. So interesting because at Muhlenberg I hate tests and quizzes. I dread studying and making flashcards. But it is a small sense of pride coming out of a class room and knowing you just took a test in Ghana- meaning you have actually begun to learn something about the country that you are residing in temporarily that is valuable enough to be tested on. A small sort of accomplishment I suppose.

Also, Maggie and I have gotten involved in starting an acapella group on campus. One of the voice teachers who apparently has taken a liking to Maggie and I breached the topic with us, and between the two of us, and a few other international students including one Ghanaian, we performed a demo of a few acapella songs to the choir here. We sang, “I’ll be There”, “Gravity”, and “Rolling in the Deep”. Also, a shout out to all the acapella geeks- we learned those three songs in TWO HOURS. Yeah. So InAcchord,, don’t be telling me you cant learn a song in a freaking rehearsal. Haha. We are going to crack down next semester! Tomorrow we hold auditions for people to join. Even though we only have about two months left, we figured it would be a good exposure to different methods of performances in music. We are hoping to arrange some Ghanaian highlife songs as well. Should be interesting. A post will be coming soon about Kumasi! We just did a weekend trip there. 

A Small Journal Entry

Yesterday I had a really rough day. However, today was a lot better. Mainly because I think I realized one of the reasons for why I am here. I'm warning those who are reading that this is kind of a ridiculous entry. Sometimes I get into really reflective moods and just need to type out things. Usually I just do it in word documents, but I think this is pretty pertinent to the abroad experience. Here, we have little to distract us from the fact that we are in Ghana. Or power goes out, or water stops flowing, I go without showers, I sweat incessantly, and yet, these are just luxuries of life. Today I was laying on my bed mulling over a Skype conversation I had had with my mom yesterday and she brought up the topic of religion. And I had trouble articulating why, but I couldn't talk about it. Instead, I just cried. It was really weird- but here you can just feel so lonely sometimes, you know? So, while my mom tried to find out why I couldn't really talk about God without being a huge mess, I tried to mop up my tears and stop people from staring at the crazy white girl in the corner. haha. However,  today I realized that one thing I have been focusing on a lot here is figuring out who I am. I actually have no idea who Jessie is. I know who people at Muhlenberg think Jessie is, I know who my family thinks Jessie is, I know who Sam thinks Jessie is, who Ethan thinks I am, but who do I think I am? What makes me tick, and how do I actually want to spend my time here?

I have an incredible issue of comparing myself to others. I think of what I want to do and then look around to make sure someone else will follow me. I have difficulty taking initiative (not a very good quality in an actress) but I have been working on it. Here, I feel even more isolated to the point where I am not around the Muhlenberg atmosphere where I already have a defined purpose. I am a student. I have friends, I have family, I have professors, classes, a room in East, a chair in Seegers, a spot in line at Java Joes, etc. Who am I without that persona? I was thinking about this and then trying to find out what I want myself to be.   A pretty demanding statement but I had never really thought about it before. I guess what I want to say is that I want to examine myself here. I want to figure out what I turn to when I am scared and lonely and have no turkey sandwiches to shove down my throat. What do I do when I go on a weekend trip without any of my close friends and I need to find a roommate. What do I do when I am not acting and have no practice rooms to blast out my lungs singing Jamie Cullum, Beyonce, Sherie Rene Scott. I want to peel back all of the layers to find who I am at the core. I feel like this is the best way to gain authority over myself as a person, as an actor, and just as a performer in general. I need to know what my strengths and weaknesses are. Some people have no trouble knowing what their own are- I personally only have a vague idea. This thought consumed me for awhile and then I decided to take a picture of myself. I had been sleeping and listening to Hillsongs (look them up, awesome band) and I wanted to see what I look like naturally- beneath all of the layers. No makeup, no hair straightening, no special effects. This is what I found.

Here I am. And honestly, there is nothing special there. I look perfectly normal. Shiny skin from the sweat, blue eyes, scraggly hair, a purple tank top. I'm just me. Just me. Not particularly stunning, but not ugly. Just...normal. Now...who am I. I think when I find this out, I will be able to open myself back up to God. Or at least see what "religion" has in store for me. I guess it makes sense that you aren't able to really fully engage yourself in relationships until you know who you yourself are. 

But yeah. Honestly, you can completely disregard this blog post- but I wanted to maybe show my parents, my family, whoever really, whats going on in my head. I am a mess of a person, but I like who I am. I am incredibly blessed to have family that love me, and friends who still talk to me even though i am thousands of miles away. I am very lucky. I promise the posts will be more normal after this. 

Julie Returns to Africa!

JULIE IN GHANA!

Alright, so Julie was supposed to arrive on Saturday morning- however, there was a mix up with the airport. She got to LaGuardia and went to check in but didn’t bring the exact credit card she had used to purchase the ticket. They wouldn’t let her on the plane. She had to cancel that ticket, buy another, only to find out that by this time it was too late to check her bag in (you have to check your bag in 60 minutes before departure). Luckily, they were able to change her ticket AGAIN to the next day. I felt terrible. But, like my dad says, what can you do?

So, instead of picking up Julie on Saturday morning, I slept in, worked out, and went to the International Students durbar. Quite the event, let me tell you. A few kids from CIEE were recruited to learn a dance number from one of our UPals in the program who is a choreographer. After rehearsing for weeks, we had reached the performance. We all got dressed up in pretty dresses, and took a cab to the top of campus, which conveniently rests upon a very high hill. Thank god we did not walk. It was very hot, as usual. We also brought along our costume (pants with various “African” fabric and white tees/tanks.  The place was gorgeous. I still cant believe that this is on our campus. The trees are beyond beautiful- their bark was white and the branches were lower than the others- weaving a maze. It was gorgeous. The outside was all set up in front of the building including a mini stage for performances later in the night. We got there and staked out our tables (that had beautiful napkins and glasses) and headed to a secret area to rehearse with everyone.

We then ended up changing to our costumes after getting a few pictures of us in dresses and sat back down to some appetizers, soda, and bottles of water. I love that whenever you go to a program thing, they hand you a billion water bottles. Its like they know we feel like we are constantly dehydrated. FYI, my program is not the only one here on campus. There are over 200 international students here- CIEE only making up 55 of them or so. A lot of people showed up which was nice. Btw, we obviously did not have dressing rooms so we used a hallway. Classy. Also, we get soda served in tall bottles. So awesome!!!! Our performance went really well. Someone got a video, but these are the pictures of some of the moments:

After we all got changed again and got some dinner. It was DELICIOUS. They had a vegetarian table (which was a first- not many people in Ghana understand vegetarians). I got plantains, noodles, rice, vegetables, lasagna (first time ive seen it here) and a few other things. For dessert we had strawberry yogurt and fruit on a stick (GRAPES!). I also had a peach slice for the first time in awhile. Its amazing how one gets excited over seeing something vaguely familiar. I mean, its just a peach, but I flipped. We got to see more performances that included a belly dancer (from berlin, yikes- but she had some sick abs), a few songs, people from the university performed as well. They danced, sang, etc. Then someone from our program played the harmonica and did some Beatles songs, which was a nice touch. Everyone loved our number. Some people came up to us and asked to take pictures with us. A little odd, but whatever. Then I had to peace out because I had to see a dance show that both Maggie and Kim were in. We were required to see it for our dance class and write a review.

I headed down with a few other girls and walked straight to the theater. The show was supposed to start at 7:30. It began around 8. Haha. I tried to videotape Kim and Maggie, but I got in trouble…twice. So I decided to stop being a rebel and stop resisting the stupid rules. They were in a piece about foreigners joining together with Ghanaian culture. It was cool and they both did a great job! The other pieces were very interesting…My favorite was a piece that included “Bust the Windows” from Glee, (TWO OTHER SONGS). It was nice to hear some American music. The dancers here are outstanding. Top notch. I would kill to be them. The lighting sucked, but it seemed to always accentuate the male dancers ridiculous upper bodies. Haha convenient for me to admire (Sorry eth).

The last piece may have been my favorite though. It was  two males who collaborated and created the piece- a poem was placed over it. It was extremely powerful and I want to find the words so I can post them. I will try my best. Another thing that is cool here is how genuinely happy everyone looks to be onstage. They are completely at ease and love audience participation. Yes, that happened during a dance show as well. In one part, a male ran his hand up a girl’s body and the audience whooped and screamed “ey ey!” I just laughed.

After the show I just went back and chilled waiting for the morning to come so I could get Julie. I left the dorm around 10, and got to the airport around 10:20 (her flight got in around 11:10. I just sat there, got hit on, and thought about the fact that I hadn’t been at the airport since I had gotten here. It was really weird to be back. Probably because the airport is such a liminal space. It scares me. Sometimes I feel like I am never going to leave her. Like, Ill get on the plane, and it wont take off. But regardless, it was weird being there and knowing I wasn’t leaving but instead was picking someone up. I cried a bit too, because the anticipation of seeing a family member is intense. Especially since I know when she leaves, I wont see another one for two months or so. My family is extremely close for those who don’t know. Not being able to see my siblings…and my parents is really rough. We tell each other everything and I love them all incredibly much. Whenever we are all together- it is a gift that we treasure. When I finally saw her, I cried. Not surprised. But I was able to stop which was good. We grabbed a cab after much bargaining and finally got Julie to campus. We got some food (She was starving) and then she passed out from 2 till 5:30. Oh, I forgot to mention that we lost power around 9 am and didn’t get it back till 6. I think we had no water as well at this point. A great welcome to Ghana experience for Julie.

While she slept, I painted my nails. Cool. Especially since I decided to paint them black because I get so dirty here, black is the only color that stays on the longest. After she woke up, I made peanut butter French toast (BEST IDEA IN THE WORLD) and we just hung out. We ended up just hanging on my porch (just Julie and I) talking for awhile. It was so nice to lay on someone shoulder and know that they are family. I miss human contact so much here. It is very lonely sometimes. But we just sat there talking about boys, life, family, marriage, religion, everything. Watched New Moon with Maggie and Kim (Maggie hated it) and then we passed out.

MONDAY! (this is going to be a long entry…whoops)

Julie, Kim and I had planned on going to Makola Market. However, Kim had a class at one thirty, and when we started to wait for a tro tro and none showed up for about an hour, she peaced and Julie and I kept waiting. Then it began to rain. Rain storm number one of the day (there were three). We finally got on a tro tro, pretty wet because we had no umbrella, and headed to Tema Station. We got there in a bout forty five minutes. I was used to the ride taking forever, but it was funny because this week I began to notice a lot of things I had gotten used to here that Julie found different. Such as the constant beeping cars and taxis accosting you, the men yelling in your direction, sometimes grabbing you, everything taking FOREVER, etc. I have just learned to relax and take things as they come. We waited for over an hour, the trip took about an hour and then we walked and had to find out where the market was. It was my first time there, and we wanted to get some fabric so Julie could get a skirt made at the seamstress that Kim, Maggie, and I had been using. The second we arrived at the market, it started to rain again. Yeah. Pretty awesome, right? But after navigating our way through the stands, we found some fabric for Julie and I got two more things of fabric that I plan to make into a dress and perhaps a romper. We shall see. We headed back and another rain storm hit as we got back to campus. We huddled under a tree for awhile until we decided to brave it. I had a 3:30, so we couldn’t wait it out that long. We got back to the room and saw our legs and feet…

After that, Julie napped while I went to Twi. I got back, and we got egg sandwiches for dinner at Pentagon (my dorm) and hung out with some people. Then we watched a few episodes of our favorite show, Gilmore Girls, and then went to bed.

TUESDAY:

I had an early class, so Julie slept in. I got up around 6, talked to Ethan (awesome :) ) and went to Play Analysis. It was rough. We just started doing debates which conveniently have almost nothing to do with our course description. The topic of the debate was whether plays make a society or if society makes the play. Yeah. It makes sense, right? So. My group was today and it was our job to defend the idea that plays make a society. Luckily, I was not one of the fortunate speakers. However, I did make a comment pertaining to the idea that as international students, a play may be the only thing we see from a culture, and can therefore lead to us assuming that the society and community dictated within the play is how the culture is played out in real life. My teacher loved the comment, but most of the Ghanaians did not. One student came up to me after class and said, “I disagree with everything you said.” I literally just stood there and said, “okay.” And walked away. Haha.

After class I picked up Julie and we went to Coffee Cue for breakfast. This is a place on campus that has coffee, sandwiches, oatmeal, etc. she got the iced milo (hot chocolate), orange juice (which is actually squeezed directly from an orange, in other words, heaven) and chocolate on pancakes.  Maggie joined us, and Julie kept saying that we are definitely not suffering here. Haha. We headed to ISH (International Student Hostel) and picked up veggies and fruits to make guacamole and some headbands for Julie (which unfortunately didn’t end up fitting).

I had planned on going to class that afternoon, but after skyping with Wesley, there was another huge rainstorm with awful thunder so loud that even Ethan on skype could hear it. It was crazy. So we walked back and made guacamole instead and I LOVED IT. It was my first time having it. Yum. Then we went to dance class and Julie got to observe which was pretty cool. That night we grabbed food at Pentagon again, and she witnessed how much I eat here. It was disgusting. Vegetable pasta is officially my favorite though. Whatever. After we watched more Gilmore Girls, and I went to bed because I had another early class (730 am).

WEDNESDAY:

Today I had two classes in the morning and Julie just slept and read,. Luckily she brought a very long book. We ate lunch in the room, and then she came to my afternoon drumming class and ended up recording some of it (check facebook for the video). After class we went back to Pent, we both got packed up, and I dropped off all my laundry to get done (it had been almost two weeks…yikes.) and we headed to our hostel. The taxi driver was being so rude, but I finally bargained him down to 9 cedi for the trip to our place- Pink Hostel. However, we ended up getting dropped off at the place across the street called the Paloma Hotel. The man there gave him directions to our Hostel and after I asked him, he insisted that it was customer service and he wouldn’t charge us more. However, then he got lost again, and asked formore directions. When we finally got there, he demanded five more cedi. I wanted to punch him in the face, Because of the circumstances, I gave in, but next time, that will not be happening. I am so sick of taxi drivers taking advantage. NO MORE! Haha.

We got to our hostel and at first I thought it was going to be more like a hotel. But once I got over the fact that the internet took a while to upload, and we had to retrieve the air conditioning remote, another towel, and our safe didn’t work, I got over it. It was perfect for what we needed. It had running water (something that I hadn’t had for awhile) and air conditioning (AMAZING). We skyped with my parents which made me super emotional. That sucked. I think I underestimated how much seeing a family member would make me homesick. I just kept thinking that she was going to leave soon, and then I wouldn’t see my family till December. It was a rough week for me emotionally. I am still experiencing some of the aftermath here. I also think I wanted everything to be perfect for Julie, so I got stressed when things were working slowly and angry because sometimes I get sick of how the way things work here. It happens. Some days are better than others. I just found that I need to have patience with myself. After we skyped, we got dressed nicely and went out to dinner in Osu at Bella Romas. I wanted to die of happiness. Elice and Little Kim joined us, and we all decided to indulge (the dishes are close to 20-25 cedi here). I got an awesome pizza with mozzarella cheese, and the other three got various types of pasta. We all shared our meals with each other at the end saving th cheese for last. You would have thought we had never seen cheese before. I am sure we looked ridiculous. After we went to Frankie’s for dessert and got dark chocolate ice cream with chocolate ice cream and a piece of cheesecake and split it. It was the perfect ending to the night.

We parted ways, and Julie and I went back to the hostel discovering that the location of it was called Asylum Down. We both took long showers, I got to skype with Ethan which was a blessing (always is) and then we both went to bed.

THURSDAY:

We got up early for breakfast and saw some other kids who were staying at the place. I wish I had talked to them more because I was so curious to see what they were doing in Ghana. Staying at the hostel convinced me that when I get out of school I want to do Europe for two months- backpacking and doing the whole hostel thing. Its cheap, and I want to see the world so badly now.  After breakfast, we headed to Osu to check out a store called Global Mamas. It was a fair trade organization that basically sold clothing that women made and gave them all of the profits. Every tag on the clothing tells you which women or woman made it and lets you know how your money is being used. It was really cool, and really nice to be in a store setting again. Julie got a skirt and a bag while I got a long sleeve purple tunic. Then we went to Nourish lab, a smoothie place and got some more breakfast before heading to the seamstress. I picked up my clothing (Which took about two hours because she had many adjustments to do) and we ordered Julie’s skirt which she graciously decided to make more quickly than usual, to ensure that Julie would have it before going back to the states.

After we got back- I went to class and Jules hung out in my room on campus. After class we hung out in my room and I laid on Julie. Haha. I miss her so much. We decided to have a chill night and grabbed a bottle of wine,, went to Frankies to pick up some sandwiches (TURKEY SANDWICH!) and dessert and we ended up watching part of Harry Potter 6.

the amazing sandwich. do not mock.

Julie really wanted this picture to happen. 

same with this one ;)

im messy. your welcome, mom. 

I was super tired, so we both passed out and woke up super early for breakfast.

FRIDAY:

I skipped both my classes and Julie and I finished watching Harry potter after breakfast and then prepared to go to the beach called Labadi. After we survived the hassle of getting there (good thing everyone is so friendly- a woman got us a cab and bargained for us on the street- love her) we walked along the beach and found some shells. Then we encountered a monkey.

And a few other people. I refused to touch the monkey by the way. Apparently, it was her first time at the beach, and she was terrified, poor monkey. Then we met this man named Don D. He proceeded to talk to us for three hours. Yeah. He was super nice though. It was funny because Julie and I had just had a conversation about how it was hard to be nice to people sometimes because a lot of people attack you with questions and forward remarks and I have turned out to be extremely callous towards them now. Which is good, for the most part, but what about the people who are genuinely nice?

Don D. kept emphasizing how even though we are white and black, we are one people. I liked him a lot if you cant tell already. He took us to a place on the beach to get food. Julie got to try joloff rice and red red (beans with plaintains). Everything was very good and he even ended up bargaining with a man to get Julie to ride on a horse for only 5 cedi (he was going to charge us 30).  I have a video! I will soon put it up. I would have gotten better pictures, but I had too much stuff and I didn’t want to leave it behind at the table. Don D. kept having me listen to music to see if I knew it. Surprisingly, I knew a great deal of the music he was playing (just shows you how long Ive been here haha). Then we asked him how to get back to Asylum Down and he said where are you staying? Pink Hostel? We laughed because no one seemed to know it, and of course he would. He said he would go with us because he knew everyone that worked there. He got free food at the place we were eating at because he brings them so many customers. When we refused to eat with him (we were already so full) he invited over another man to join in on his food. Meanwhile, Julie and I continually had people coming up to us to see if we wanted to buy their trinkets. They kept saying, “it’s nice to be nice”. I hated it. Haha Because I am nice, I just am poor and don’t want your things.

Don D. showed us his paintings and Julie ended up buying a very pretty one. We learned how he paints and he told us about his process. Very cool. After we walked back and caught a tro-tro to our hostel. He ended up paying for our fare, which was very nice. We left him, and showered before heading to the seamstress. I also took a mini nap. I was telling Julie that I am so tired all of the time because usually at school if I go out once during the day, I am all set. Its such a process and always exhausts me. And on top of that, while I was with Julie, I was constantly bargaining, asking people for directions, and it was the most exhausting thing I ever had to do.

BTW some weird things about the beach:

They caught a mantaray and sliced it open on the sand. I saw body parts. Gross. Also Ghanaians trash the place. Luckily it wasn’t too bad, but we found some syringes (gross) and empty bottles, occasional glass, etc. you had to really look where you were walking. Besides that, the beach was amazing and very gorgeous. I cant wait to see more beaches here.

We ended up waiting too long for a tro tro so we decided to go to the seamstress the next day instead. We went to osu for dinner at the Chicken Inn, THEY HAD REAL KETCHUP! The food there was actually amazing. I got a great chicken burger with fries and we got ice cream afterwards. It was funny because we saw obruni and I wanted to ask them where they had come from. Julie told me it would be rude, so I didn’t  : ). The chicken inn is paired with a pizza place as well as ice cream. Its kind of like a kentacohut. But not really. By the way, in Osu they have a three floor KFC. Weird. After dinner we got someone at a gas station to open our wine bottle (we cracked up laughing about that for awhile) and went back to our hostel. We drank some wine, showered, I skyped for a bit (I wanted to take full advantage of the internet here) and we watched the Holiday. A MacBeth girl favorite.

SATURDAY:

Julie’s last day :( we woke up got breakfast and packed. Headed to the seamstress and grabbed Julie’s skirt and headed back to campus. Then we picked up my laundry, discovered we still had no water, but we just hung out in my room anyway and watched harry potter 7 part one. Another rainstorm occurred (WHY DO WE HAVE NO WATER WITH ALL OF THIS RAIN?!) the true irony of the situation. I took her to Bush Canteen and we ran into Kim who I persuaded to come drop off Julie with me (I didn’t want to go alone).  Bush Canteen is basically a small market on campus next to the Theater arts department. Its kind of random, but student favor it for eating because its cheap. You can get a meal for under 2 cedi. We headed back and grabbed pizza for dinner and then took a cab. I have become an expert bargainer now so I got the cab driver to take five. We dropped Julie off, and it was sad. Im so glad kim was there because she helped me get right back up again. It took us twelve cabs and our walking to the main road to get a cab to take us back to campus for five cedi. The definition of ridiculous. I wanted to punch someone. I proceeded to get back, and pass out. It had a been a very long week.

Sorry for such a long post, but I didn’t want to leave anything out.