MEGABLOG (Part II)

Internship

This semester I am interning at an organization called Women Action Group (W.A.G). W.A.G is an NGO founded by Felicia, a Ghanaian woman who at the age of 18 was forced to drop out of school for personal reasons. In an effort to support herself, Felicia learned the skills of hairdressing, seamstressing and catering. Once she became successful, she taught other women in her community these skills as well as a way to help them out of their difficult circumstance. Almost twenty years later, Felicia received a massive donation that allowed her to open a small school where she could continue training young women.

W.A.G is now a vocational school that offers skills training in seamstressing, hair design, and catering. The school also offers classes in English, social studies, and human rights. After graduation, a microfinance organization provides graduates the money and supplies necessary to open their own business and they are given two years to pay back their loans. Initially I was interested in and applied to W.A.G because of their attention to human rights and women’s empowerment. When I was accepted I expected to be working with the human rights teacher and helping wherever necessary. However, due to lack of funding, W.A.G cannot afford to hire a human rights teacher so they asked me to become theirs.

 For the past two months I have been creating lesson plans on various issues ranging from general human rights to human trafficking to child labor/fair trade etc in an effort to help the women at W.A.G understand their rights and more importantly, how to protect them. I have no teaching experience so creating my own lessons has been a tad overwhelming. I was extremely nervous before my first lesson but before I knew it Felicia told me the women were ready for me so I just walked in and began. Halfway through I realized that I’d been teaching for thirty minutes without even really thinking about it and by the end of the lesson I realized how much I loved what I was doing.

When I was in high school my favorite teacher Mrs. Devine introduced me to human rights. She taught me that change doesn’t come from one giant donation or policy reform. It is the small steps towards progress that are most important. This is the same lesson that I’m trying to teach the women at W.A.G. Most of them are victims of the very issues I’m teaching them, and none of them are in the financial situation to support their cause with money. So, I’m trying to teach them what Mrs. Devine taught me, education is power. Everyone is capable of participating in change because everyone has a voice that can bring awareness to the injustice that surrounds them.

While I’ve been trying to familiarize the women with the Ghanaian law and legal system, I realize just as much as they do how corrupt that system is. These women need to look outside their own government and rely on NGOs around them. More importantly, they need to rely on themselves. In my last few lessons I’ve asked the women to teach one other person in their community what they learned in class and then write about it, I’ve asked them to write letters to various organizations, but most importantly I’ve asked them to respect and listen to one another. These women have dealt with more struggles in their lives then I’ll ever be able to understand but they are so smart and so strong and if they all came together for a collective cause, they really could make a difference.

My goal is to expose them to human rights issues around the world. I hope that by making them aware of people who have even less than they do, they will feel empowered to make change instead of feeling like they are the only victims. Hopefully helping others will allow them realize that they can also help themselves.

As much as I love Ghana, I have never thought so much about what it means to be a woman. While there are plenty of educated and progressive men and woman in this country, a huge population of Ghana is severely tethered to a patriarchal and chauvinistic past. Ghanaian women today battle to surmount this past but their struggle is a tiresome one. Most of the women I teach are my age and many of them have children. While being mothers makes it difficult for them to leave their abusive husbands or acquire enough money for a college degree, I am thankful that these women are at least in school and on the road to financial independence. Hopefully they will teach their own children about human rights issues and maybe that generation will be the one that creates real change for Ghana.

I know this entry is mostly big picture things and not very specific about what day-to-day life is like at W.A.G but I will be blogging about my experience there more. For now, my time there has been a mix of frustrating and thrilling. Sometimes the women are super difficult but other times they are engaging and responsive – I am learning so much simply by being around them and if I can have even a little bit of the effect on them that Mrs. Devine had on me, then I’ll be happy. All for now!

MEGABLOG (Part I)

So apparently whenever I’m in the hospital I decide it’s a good time to blog. Sorry for the MAJOR procrastination on this one…but here is is. MEGABLOG (Part I)

Miss Megan's 21st birthday dinner! 

Megan’s birthday weekend

After a night of exploring a sweet neighborhood of Accra called Osu for Megan’s Birthday dinner, myself, Megan, Hannah, and Jen left campus at 4am to begin our adventure to Ghana’s Volta region. 

After about five hours on the Tro-Tro we were dropped off in Fume, a tiny village in the middle of nowhere settled at the bottom of a string of massive mountains. Eventually we made our way up to the top of one of the mountains to where we were camping for the weekend. Our tent was set up on a piece of land completely encircled by the mountains and the only noises we could here were echoes from the villages scattered below us. It was beautiful. Soon after we put our stuff down, we made our way back down and headed for Mt. Gemi, the tallest mountain in Ghana.

Kingsley!!!

At the bottom of Mt. Gemi was a village called Bapikpa. The people there, realizing we didn’t know where we were going, called out to someone named Kingsley and asked him to take us up the mountain. For the next four hours we followed Kingsley (who somehow managed all of this in flipflops…) on a 6-inch wide “path” up Mt. Gemi. After what felt more like rock climbing than hiking, we reached the top and sat for an hour or so in complete silence in a haze of complete exhaustion and awe.

Top of Mt. Gemi with Jen

Standing at the highest point in all of Ghana, we could see everything. Hundreds of rural villages, neighboring mountains, and the Lake Volta that stretched so far back it seemed like it just kept going. I’ve realized that living here has taught me to adapt to things quickly, sometimes without even consciously thinking about it. Because of this, everything that I’ve been thinking about or processing usually hits me all at once – sitting at the top of Mt. Gemi was definitely one of those moments. I thought about everything while I was up there and even though I didn’t have some revolutionizing epiphany, I am so grateful to Ghana for giving me the opportunity to just sit on top of a mountain for a few hours in complete silence and not feel guilty about it, not worry in the least about what comes next. That’s not the way to do things.

Eventually we began our super slippery hike back down Gemi… I may or may not have fallen in some sort of quicksand-like hole filled with fire ants. Both hilarious and terrifying. Once we safely reached the bottom, Kingsley invited us to see his home. We followed him through the village of Bapikpa and met a woman who was preparing dinner with her baby strapped to her back. Kingsley introduced these two as his wife and his first-born child.

I was shocked because Kingsley couldn’t have been older than 23. On the hike Kingsley told me that he hoped to make enough money to go to school and earn a teaching degree someday. Instead, he is already settled into his adult life with a wife, a baby, and a house that he is building himself. I don’t know how someone so young is also responsible enough to give up his dream in order to provide for his family or generous enough to spend an entire day guiding four hopeless oburonis without charge. He was the man.

William + Kulugu Falls 

That night we sat outside and talked with some of the people working at the lodge. One of them, William, is the most liberal Ghanaian I’ve met so far. He grilled me on U.S policy, same-sex marriage, religion etc. It was awesome because usually I have to drag these conversations out of people. I still don’t understand how William, who only had the money for junior school (U.S equivalent to middle school) and who has little to no access to TV or internet was so ridiculously knowledgeable, but he knew everything and it definitely made for one of my favorite nights in Ghana.

The next morning William led us on another hike to Kulugu Falls. While this hike was much shorter than Mt Gemi, it had even less of a cleared path. After an hour of hiking through rocks and pineapple/cocoa farms, we “Tarzan-d” it down a steep rock wall and landed at the bottom of Kulugu Falls. Overheated from our hike, we all jumped into the water and swam around the half cave that guides the direction of the river. Having a waterfall to swim around at the end of an arduous hike makes everything instantly refreshing.

Failing at synchronized swimming

Eventually we left the waterfall, hiked back up the mountain to out tent, packed our things and headed back down the mountain to catch a tro-tro home. Unfortunately we walked about 40 minutes in the wrong direction. Realizing this we asked directions and were told that if we continued straight we’d end up in Vale, a town that would have tro-tros going towards Accra. After another hour of walking and absolutely no sight of Vale, we were confused, hot, and hungry. Convinced we were in the wrong place we decided to ask the next person we saw for directions. Only a few minutes later we heard music and came upon a giant festival taking place.

Festival of Corpus Christie 

Our Don Walsh status tent 

There, in the middle of an otherwise silent mountain rage, was a festival of two or three hundred people adorned in Kente cloth dancing and singing to highlife music. When we asked what the festival was we were told it was an annual catholic festival that took place in honor of Corpus Christie. Around the main tent of the festival were women selling bananas, bread, plantain chips, water. Starving, we hurried over, bought some food and had a makeshift picnic under a tree where we could watch the adults singing and dancing and the children playing all around them. Eventually everyone joined together and paraded up to Vale where we followed them and eventually caught a tro-tro back to Accra. This festival in this very tiny village only happens once a year, and somehow we were lucky enough to get lost just enough to find it. 

Tema Harbor

Tema Harbor 

 In an effort to meet up with Rob Finn who is traveling with Semester at Sea this fall, my roommate Megan and I somehow found our way to Tema Harbor about five hours before his boat was supposed to dock. Not knowing what to do with ourselves until then, Megan and I wandered around the harbor pretty aimlessly until a Ghanaian named “Big Tony” introduced himself to us and insisted that we join him for his sister Irene’s birthday party. Unable to turn down the offer of free cake, Megan and I pulled up another two plastic chairs to the table and spent the afternoon celebrating Irene’s birthday under a big tent with birthday cake and some very entertaining Ghanaians.

 Once it started to get dark we headed for Rob’s boat but because we didn’t have cell phones to get in touch with each other, we had to go old school and just started asking around for him. A few hours passed and with no sign of Rob anywhere, we attempted to make friends with the Semester at Sea security… this ended up with the head of security calling immigration on us because apparently the two police who had let us into the harbor had (unbeknownst to me and Megan) snuck us in illegally. Ghanaian police at their finest.

Eventually immigration showed up, demanded to see the passports that we didn’t have, and told us we had to leave immediately or spend the night in the immigration office.  Not really feeling the idea of being detained in an immigration office, Megan and I regrettably had to leave the harbor empty-handed.

Super nice Semester at Sea boat

 After a miserable fail of meeting up with Rob, Megan and I cabbed back to campus with a driver who felt so bad for us that he lessened our fair and gave each of us a bracelet that he hand-painted himself. Eventually we got in touch with Rob who apparently learned far too quickly of Ghana’s aversion to set plans and instead was sent on a whirlwind adventure. Sorry Rob! While it was a huge bummer not being able to meet up, frolicking around Tema harbor certainly made for an interesting experience.

CIEE trip numero dos

View from the beach huts

Marketplace for buying/selling slaves

 The other weekend I FINALLY escaped my malaria cave just in time to travel with CIEE to the central region. After about three and a half hours of driving we pulled into a ridiculously nice beach where we were each welcomed with a coconut. Placed on the beach were our rooms - small collections of huts settled in the sand beneath the shade of massive palm leaves and just yards away from the Atlantic waves. After setting our stuff down and having lunch, we made our way to Slave river, the place where slaves of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade took their last bath after being sold on a wooden block in exchange for weapons and animals. From here many of the slaves were taken to Elmina – a giant castle placed just off the shore of Cape Coast. We learned the history of the castle and were told how many slaves populated each room, what their living conditions were like, and how many of them actually survived long enough to make their way onto the boat.

Visiting the Last Bath and Elmina were both complicated experiences. No matter how much I have learned in school, how much reading I have done on my own, or how many facts I receive from a tour guide – I will never be able to understand the full weight of slavery. Throughout the day I remained quiet, struggling and searching for a way to feel the history of where I was standing. I felt it most when the tour guide led us into the female dungeon and told us that the floor we were standing on was the original cement that women had been raped, starved, and had died on. This dungeon was placed directly below the floorboards of the soldiers’ church where they would pray and worship everyday as innocent lives crumbled beneath them.  This only begins to expose the cruelty of those in charge of the trade.

View from Elmina Castle (Cape Coast)

Even more difficult to understand was how a place so torturous, so dark and shameful could be set in such a beautiful place. From the balcony of the castle was a view of perfectly blue water whose waves were only interrupted by the colorful fishing boats that sailed across them. What I learned later on in the night from Gideon (Ghanaian U-PAL) is that this gorgeous view is what makes Elmina a popular place for Ghanaians to take their dates. When we asked how such a depressing place could ever be a romantic destination he said it was because the education that Ghanaians receive on Elmina in school gives them a different understanding of slavery. For Americans, slavery is a horrific part of our history that has caused discrimination and conflict for generations – Elmina was just the beginning, the first step in carrying over our dreaded past. In contrast, Ghanaian curriculum doesn’t include what came after the ships left Elmina – without individual research there isn’t knowledge of slavery in the U.S or plantation life… for them everything ended once the boats left the dock. This shocked me. Ghanaians are always eager to hear about what discrimination is like in the U.S because in Ghana there isn’t a negative divide between black and white. Is it this difference in curriculum that has made Ghanaians so curious about America’s history and present?

The ride back to the beach was a quiet one – most of us trying to process everything we’d seen. All I could think about was how the majority of people would find Elmina horrific enough to do anything in their power to prevent another slave trade from happening… but then images of child labor and sex trafficking came to mind and again I felt hopeless. How can a practice as worldwide and systematic as sex trafficking truly be stopped? And how long will it take before the world feels as much remorse for it as it does the Trans-Atlantic slave trade?After dinner and conversation on modern day slavery etc, we made our way back to our huts and fell asleep to the sound of the crashing waves. 

Rachel and Komal walking the beach

The next morning I woke up around 4am to watch the sunrise over the water. When I came outside everything was dark but the stars were perfect. The lights in Accra blur out most of the stars so I am always grateful to be in a place where they are completely clear. Around 5 the light started to pick up around the water and at 6:02 a perfectly pink sun broke through the horizon, cascading warm light and shadows across the entire beach. Perfect way to start the morning.

After breakfast we headed to Kakum National Park and hiked for about thirty minutes up to a platform that marked the entrance to a series of roped bridges across the canopy of the rainforest. After all the heaviness of the day before, taking a step out onto the bridge and drifting over the forest was so uplifting. I can’t think of a better time to think things over than when standing on a questionably sturdy bridge in the middle of nowhere. I felt weightless – completely suspended in the middle of nature.

After a few hours of canopy walking and hiking we made our way back down the mountain for lunch at a place surrounded by palm trees and crocodiles (Nick Walsh paradise?). Lunch was delicious but the best part was definitely being able to actually go up to the crocodiles and touch them. Crouching down next to a very awake crocodile was bizarre but petting them was soooo cool. Their spines are sharp and rock solid but their stomachs are soft and warm and I could actually feel it breathing, amazing! 

After two days of adventures we returned to campus and instead of heading to bed as planned, a few of us went to our Ghanaian friend’s (Taste) birthday party at a local pub where he watches soccer religiously. Usually the pub is full of chairs and yelling Ghanaians but this time a huge table with champagne glasses, food, and drinks was set outside the pub with Taste’s friends all around. I’m still amazed by how friendly this culture is – we were introduced to everyone at the party, given free food and drinks and were made to feel so, so welcome. Eventually the dinner turned into a dance party and once again I was laughed at for all of my moves. I did have a few Ghanaians doing the sprinkler at one point so I count that one as a major success. Time for class! 

Catching up...

So after a week or so of malaria recovery, I’m back to blogging! Two Fridays ago a few of us tro-tro’d to my friend Caitlin’s internship site in a nearby town to help her with an event the clinic was putting on for the children of their patients. While her clinic works with a variety of public health issues, one of the most prevalent is its attention to HIV/AIDS. Spending the morning playing “red light, green light” and “duck-duck-goose” with kids who are children of HIV/AIDS patients or who carry the disease themselves, was both super fun and silently agonizing. To meet these kids, some as young as five years old, who were born with or have developed this life-long disease is tragic -- but, to see the joy and the laughter they greet each day with is equally inspiring.  The clinic itself was organized and clean and the doctors showed such genuine love and care for their jobs and for their patients. It is this kind of positive environment that makes the struggles facing the victims of this disease seem hopeful.

After many, many rounds of duck-duck-goose the kids started to head home and we hopped on a tro-tro back to campus to start gearing up for the Friday night Ghana v. Swaziland game in downtown Accra. Gideon, one of our awesome U-PALS, set us up with a giant city bus to take everyone to the game. From University to the stadium, rush-hour traffic witnessed a bus full of Oburonis and Ghanaians singing “We will, we will, rock you” and its Ghanaian equivalent at the top of our lungs. It was awesome.

 Once at the stadium I bargained (badly) for jerseys, bandanas, facepaint etc and headed inside. I always love the last few steps before you enter a stadium. The way the tunneled ramp muffles the sound of the people already cheering so that when you eventually reach the landing, you are instantly hit by the field and the fans and the sea of red, gold, and green black star jerseys and Ghanaian flags. The game itself was awesome – lots of dancing and cheering and pretty similar to games back home but with a Ghanaian twist… vendors selling Joloff rice instead of pretzels and plantains instead of nachos. Delicious. Ghana beat Swaziland 2-0!!!

The next morning I woke up a bit late and ended up bolting across campus (40 minutes away…) to catch a 6am bus to Cape Coast, a city about three hours outside of Accra. Some friends and I heard about a festival going on there and decided to check it out. We had no idea what to expect but it ended up being awesome. The festival brought everyone out of their homes and the whole city was full of color and music. Men and women in every kind of fabric and costume paraded through the streets singing songs and performing dances. All of them were escorts to the Chief and Queen Mother who use this annual festival as a way to meet with chiefs from surrounding areas to discuss plans for the upcoming year. The parade ended in a giant pavilion placed in front of Cape Coast Castle and because the following ceremony was spoken entirely in the local language, an eleven-year-old Ghanaian named Steven kept me in the loop. Eventually the president of Ghana, John Atta Mills, arrived and gave a speech. It’s insane how different security is for the Mills v. Obama but it was amazing to be that close to the leader of this young democracy. The bus I had planned on taking left before the end of the ceremony so my friend and I decided to meet up with other students we knew were in the city and stay the night. On the way to meet them we got caught in a spontaneous parade of hundreds of people dancing through the streets to a brass band. They were huge fans of the enthusiasm we put into our hopeless Oburoni dance moves.

The students we eventually met up with were exploring the city with Iggy, a Ghanaian friend of ours who is originally from Cape Coast and who invited whoever was available to see where he was from. In true Ghanaian form, Iggy was overly hospitable buying us plantain chips and popcorn and taking us to all his favorite places. We started with dinner at a bar/restaurant right on the water and eventually moved to a huge concert at a gas station parking lot where an awesome high-life band was performing. The lead singer noticed how chaotic the front rows were and pulled some of us on stage to dance with her/save us from the crowd. I’m sure I looked ridiculous but looking out on all of the people dancing and singing along made it worth it, who knew a gas station could be such a hot spot?

After checking out another concert/dance performance in the middle of the city, we headed back to our hotel for some much needed sleep. The next morning we met up with everyone again and had breakfast on a hill right next to the Cape Coast Castle that offers a beautiful view of the water. Slow morning at its finest.

Unfortunately I forgot to bring my camera with me to Cape Coast but it really was a beautiful city. It is a lot smaller than Accra so all the entertainment is close together which makes exploring a lot easier. Plus, there is significantly less traffic so the whole city is a bit more relaxed. After breakfast we walked around for a bit, found a bus headed back to Accra, and three-ish hours later we were back on campus.

The next morning my roommate Megan and I went running and about ten minutes after we got back I started feeling super dizzy/feverish and ended up going to the hospital and being diagnosed with malaria. I had great people with me and terrific doctors so once I had medicine I started feeling a lot better. The only bummer was that I had to miss most of my classes but luckily I recovered by the end of the week and now I’m back in action! More adventures to come! 

BEST WEEKEND EVER.

So one of the great things about being here is that there is time to do things. My classes, with the exception of Twi, meet only once a week so I have Wednesdays and Fridays completely open as days to volunteer/intern, explore and travel.

This past Friday some friends and I had planned to go to the beach but when we woke up to a rainstorm, our plans changed. Without the typical rainy day backups like movie theatres and bowling, we decided to catch the first tro-tro headed towards Accra to see what we could find.

Hoping off the bus somewhere near downtown Accra, we started walking down a road we thought would eventually lead us to a coffee shop. As silly as our line of aimless Oburonis must have looked, the amount of attention that we attract still feels so strange. On campus and off, Ghanaians’ exclamations of “Oburoni, Oburoni!” constantly remind me how much I stand out here. The funny thing about the word Oburoni is that it isn’t discriminatory at all. When I hear it I usually just smile and wave to let the Ghanaians know I’ve picked up on at least one word of Twi. 

After a few wrong turns we somehow came upon a French bakery (Delifrance) tucked beneath some trees. The bakery owner was so excited to have people in his shop that he quickly pulled out four baskets of croissants and danishes and insisted that we eat as much as we want without cost. Nicest man ever. He’s Lebanese and returned to Ghana a few weeks ago so that he could continue to finance his daughter’s studies in the U.S. It’s awesome to see how the hospitality and friendly nature of Ghana’s culture is spreading to its visitors. I am still thinking about those croissants and cupcakes. 

After saying goodbye to Delifrance we found our way to the original coffee shop we were looking for. It is rare to find anything but instant coffee in Ghana but finally I had my first real cup of coffee since orientation!!! This is huge for anyone who knows of my former addiction/ complete love for coffee. The cafe, Cuppa Cappuccino, is placed in a little garden setting in a quiet neighborhood of Accra. Right when I felt I was back in the middle of West Hartford CT, a woman holding her child’s hand, while balancing a platter of bananas on her head and a baby on her back would walk by and I’d remember where I was. Truly the best of both worlds.

Eventually the rain let up and we took the tro-tro back to campus. While the day didn’t exactly introduce us to a ton of Ghanaian culture, it was really cool to see parts of my world back home hidden behind a few wrong turns in Ghana.

At 7:30 the next morning I left campus for my first weekend trip! CIEE includes four weekend trips that are organized, paid for, and focus on some showing us the major staples of Ghana.

This weekend we traveled to the eastern region and our first stop was a woodcarving village. Piles of wood covered the ground that the men inside the tent were sitting in but each of them were working on something different. One man was sculpting two people facing each other, another was hand-painting a woman’s profile, and another was carving away a design he had sketched on a piece of wood. By the time I left the tent this last man had already transformed the solid block of wood into the profile of a woman holding a bag. It was insane to see how talented these woodcarvers are. The market just outside of where these men were working was filled with tent after tent of woodcarvers selling their goods including a wood carved map of Africa that I couldn’t pass up buying.

After some time at the woodcarving village we headed to the botanical gardens for lunch and wandering. Even in the rain the gardens were beautiful and it was the first park-like setting I’ve seen since being here. A guide showed us little plants scattered all over the garden that instantly shut when you touch them and then re-open five minutes later and pointed out a palm tree that naturally grew horizontally and with two heads. Pretty sweet. 

Dried Cocoa!

On to the cocoa farm! Cocoa is a huge export of Ghana so getting to explore a real cocoa farm was awesome. One of the cocoa farmers told us that every piece of chocolate in the world has to have some amount of Ghanaian chocolate in it and while Nigeria has the highest production of chocolate, Ghana holds the title for the world’s finest cocoa. Ghanaian cocoa farmers do not rush the natural cocoa process, their methodical and patient process is what makes their chocolate such high quality.

After the cocoa farm we headed back to the hotel that CIEE booked for us. It’s uncomfortable to drive through hours of rural villages and then somehow end up pulling into a hotel. I was hoping the bus would turn a little earlier and allow us to explore some of the villages, but hopefully this is something I’ll get to experience on my own adventures.

The next morning we headed to Boti Falls. Driving through Ghanaian countryside is an experience itself. Village after village greeted our bus of Oburonis with waves and laughs. Seeing these villages was definitely one of the most powerful reminders I’ve had of where I am. Houses made out of dirt and mud and whatever resources available sit fragilely while the people who live in them go about their daily lives, fetching water, hanging laundry, singing and dancing. The people in these villages seemed as functional and organized as someone living in New York or Boston. They have their own way of doing things, it’s not better or worse, it’s just different.

Eventually we reached Boti Falls. Not really knowing what our destination was, we followed a guide and hiked our way to Umbrella Rock. I can’t describe this place as anything else but breathtaking. The rock formed naturally at the top of a giant canyon filled with trees and grasses and everything that makes Ghana so exquisitely beautiful. I love the bustle and pace of Accra, but to be able to stand quietly at the top of Umbrella Rock and see something formed entirely by nature made me realize how much more of Ghana I need to see.

Eventually we left Umbrella Rock and began an intense and slippery downhill hike through the middle of a jungle. The only issue with the hike was that it was difficult to take in everything around me without falling on my face. Still, it was perfect. We would be walking on relatively flat land for a few seconds and then out of nowhere have to maneuver ourselves through a giant vertical drop of pure rock.

The humidity and the rain and the lazy swinging vines lead us through an ancient cave and landed us parallel to Boti Falls. Boti Falls has two waterfalls, one male and one female. Beneath the falls is a lake kept constantly moving by the pressure of the water. After standing for a few minutes in pure amazement, we ignored the “No Swimming, Stay Alive” signs and jumped in. So worth it. Climbing the rocks behind the falls gave us an even better view of their beauty and a moment to process what was pouring down in front of us. Swimming beneath a waterfall in Ghana…that’s one to check off the bucket list.

Sadly we had to leave the falls and head back to campus but even today I feel energized from the weekend. I finally feel like I’m really getting to see the diversity of Ghana. It is so easy to become stuck in a routine or to procrastinate on opportunities but already Ghana has taught what a waste that is. I have been given the time and the space to do anything I can think of and after what I saw this weekend, I am confident that I will use the next few months to explore and embrace every adventure.

My first weeks in Ghana...

So after a few weeks of finicky internet (and with the help of some blog-savy friends) i’m finally starting my blog! It's impossible to try to capture that last three weeks in this space but i’ll try to explain my thoughts and experiences as best I can. 

The months leading up to my departure were full of family and friends asking why I chose Ghana over Europe. I told them that I wanted to be challenged by something, to feel completely uncomfortable in an unfamiliar place, acclimate to it, and hopefully learn to love it for everything that makes it different from what i’m used to. So far Ghana has done that for me, but in ways I never expected.

Tro-Tro to BoJo beach!

I was told to come in without any expectations and while I think I followed that suggestion pretty well, life in Ghana is constantly surprising. To the great disappointment of my Dad, mail is not delivered by cheetah and elephants are not my main mode of transportation. Instead I walk almost everywhere or take a Tro-Tro, a gutted out van that fits about 27 people instead of the usual 7. Only about 65 pesewas (about 35 cents) for a ride into town! 

Currently I am studying in Legon (a town just outside the capital city of Accra) at the University of Ghana, the school where myself and 38,000 other students will be living this semester. It is so beautiful here but different from the landscape I imagined.  Certainly there is the Africa that I’ve seen in pictures, sweeping palm leaves and red dirt roads to create paths from one market to another. But then, a sign giving directions to the Accra Mall hovers over a home with a tattered roof and stray dogs wandering aimlessly outside of it. These mixed visuals are the true surprise of being here. 

A friend of mine and I were were talking about what it means to live in a developing country. Here it seems that it’s not a transition stage but rather a way of life. Homes are stripped apart to make way for a highway but Ghanaians live around the construction and still manage to do what they need to to support themselves. All day I see men and women parade the streets selling plantain chips, cell phone minutes, and sachets of water on their head without complaint and generally in good spirits. It is amazing to witness that kind of work-ethic. 

Plantain chips by the tro-tro!

I mentioned to my family that convenience doesn’t seem to be a priority here. The Ghanaians that i’ve met and observed work around the conditions they’re given and do what they have to to succeed. Seeing this has made me realize how little I need to really be happy. I’m so grateful for that. 

I think the most startling part of being here is watching a country slowly westernize itself. Ghana is so proud of its culture and to think of it transforming into a version of the U.S is unsettling. I want Ghana to develop to its full potential but I hope that it always maintains the customs and culture that make it so refreshing. 

A huge part of Ghanaian culture is hospitality. I’ve never seen a country so concerned with other people’s well being. The other night I was ordering dinner at a Canteen on campus and a woman i’d never met before, Auntie Yaa, made sure that I got a fair price for my food and even taught me some twi (the local language) while I waited for my rice. This seems to be the way of Ghana, to pick out someone as an “Obruni” (foreigner) but to then help them in their travels instead of making them feel like an outsider. Last week in my african dance class, we learned the dance of travelers. This dance is performed to remind people that all those who come into their lives should be welcomed and provided for. It’s amazing to see how relevant the lesson of this ancient dance is to Ghana today. 

Some awesome CIEE friends teaching me some cooking skills!

Ready for dinner! 

Each of the 58 people in my program came to Ghana for different reasons, but there is something similar about each of us that landed us in the same place. Each of them, as well as the Ghanaians i have met so far, are so intelligent - so excited and willing to share their opinions with the world. I am confident that I will learn much from them. 

I know this post is all over the place and mostly filled with observations instead of stories...i’ll try to find more of a balance as I go on. My day-to-day adventures can only be described as unbelievable, I have seen drum circles, traditional dances, market places, beaches, poverty, and untouchable pride but still, I have so much that I want to do while i’m here. Hopefully by the end of this experience my blog will be filled with adventures but for now, i’m just living and learning Ghana, one day at a time. More to come soon! 

Spotted: Kofi Annan in Accra!