Life and Dreams

Comments:
Meg:
Thinking of joining PC! Cool...i could totally see you doing something like this. Its not without its hardships, for sure, but it definitely is something I can not envision myself ever regretting. You have the option of choosing your top 3 picks for location (although you may not get any of them). I chose 1) Africa 2) South America 3) Caribbean. Turns out 35% of PCVs are sent to Africa, and something like 5% to S. America and 4% to Caribbean. So, while those places sound totally bad ass...your chances are somehow small. They told me in one of my interviews that bc they have enough applicants who are already fluent in Spanish, if you are NOT then they wont even really consider sending you to a Spanish-speaking country. With that said...i think where ever you end up, that is exactly where you are supposed to be. As for owning my own chickens...thought of it and would love to but...we are forbidden due to "risk of bird flu". Not sure the likelihood of catching bird flu actually is but I'm guessing somewhere around the same likelihood as getting trampled to death my a herd of elephants. Knock on wood. But I'm totally considering going vegan again (sorry Brit., I know how you were really wishing I'd come home craving beefy tacos), anyhow, since I've learned how to make soy milk and tofu from scratch. And it's way yummier than anything I've ever bought in any store.

Miranda:
Said spiders have been missing for 2 weeks......

Carter:
Got your package...you and Field are the shit! Thx so very much. Was reading the People magazine featuring Obama last night before bed and had this dream that I was in an airport and happened to run into Michelle and Barack. Was pretty exciting (although in my dream I had forgotten to charge the batteries for my camera, so was unable to document the event)! So he literally is the man of my dreams. What's the deal with me having dreams that take place in airports anyways? See below...

To all:
I will do my honest best to get pics loaded...but its not easy! Plus the camera I brought kinda sux bc they made me all scared about theft before I left the US so I didnt bring my good one. But gonna have mom bring it with her when she comes to visit in August and I'll make sure to get the pics uploaded in Europe then, if not before.

NOW....WHERE WERE WE?

Today at school there was this baby goat, no bigger than a puppy, that kept coming in my classroom. It was unbelievably cute, but quiet disruptive. So I had to grab him and find his mother. Not on my usual list of teacher's duties, but hey, thats Ghana :)

Its funny that guys in the US go to the gym several times a week, and will never have bodies like these Ghanaian men. You should see them! They work all day, either4 at the farm, or building houses, or something physical, only to go and play a game of football (soccer) in the evenings. They dont even have to think about it, just go on with their everyday activities and they end up with bodies like rockstars....no, rockstars have skinny, drug-abused bodies, its more like god-like bodies.

I think I mentioned that the majority leader of Parliament here in Ghana is from my village. Anyhow, his mother past away last week, so this weekend Sombo had one of the biggest funerals I imagine the Upper West has seen in a long while. It took place on the field that is literally right in my front yard. People came from all over Ghana, I'm not entirely sure, but I think the Vice President was also in attendance. Quite interesting. They lay the body in the middle of the field and people walk around it in circles mourning very loudly and openly, as is custom here. Other than that, there was a lot of drumming /dancing/ and drinking. I went and, for a small fee, got to look at the grave. It was about 15 feet down by 7 feet wide. Completely tiled! This is so that not a single speck of dirt will touch the coffin. Of course only the very rich can make this kind of grave a reality. It was quite beautiful, actually. I wasnt aloud to go for the actual burial, though, as women are not allowed. Something about us being too sensitive, and liable to break out into hysterics.

I'm pretty sure Ive already mentioned how mangoes are definitely the BEST fruit in the world, but I think they deserve at least one more "shout out". My friend Jeff believes that mangoes are Gods apology to Western Africa for making it so close to the sun. I think he may be on to something...

I was just thinking about how weird it is that the people up here in the Upper West Region look so very different from the people of the south. I mean Ghana is only the size of Oregon! Up here, everyone is so skinny and somewhat tall but down in the south (where they get 2 rainy seasons) where everything is lush and green, the people are all so, so fat (and shorter for some reason). But it made me think how Im gonna go into shock when I get back to the US where there are people who are twice the size as a fat, southern Ghanaian. They just do too much physical work here to achieve the level of obesity us Americans have been allowed to achieve :)

I somehow lost interest in my reading club after I started a girls volleyball team at my school. Does that make me a bad person? Anyways, a lot of the children also lost interest in it. And volleyball is so very much fun! 4-5 days a week...its keeping me unbelievably busy (I barely have time to do laundry anymore). Speaking of...we dont have any volleyballs, so we are playing with soccer balls (which is actually quite painful after about 2 hours of playing). The volleyballs are really expensive (if you can find them), about $40. So, if any of you kind souls happen to be sending a package this way...volleyballs (cheap ones) are on the top of my Christmas List :) In the meantime, I'll be working on toughening up my arm skin.

Here's something I think is interesting...My neighbors houses here are all right next to mine, essentially no one has a house in Ghana that is separated by any large distance from their nearest neighbor(s). And everyone kind of keeps an eye on everyone else's houses, property, and really on other peoples lives as a whole. Everyone knows their neighbor, for better or worse. People back home would call this being nosy. And often it feels that way too. "Where are you going?" "what will you buy?"...these are questions I get on a DAILY basis. But heres the thing- I've never felt more safe at my home in my life! And I live practically alone (unless you count the small # of hours my roommate is around). My friend Felix told me that your best friend here in Ghana is the person you live closest to. No questions. No matter how much you get along with someone across the village, or no matter how you feel about your neighbor---you will be best friends. I should add here the 2 reasons why. (1) Ghanaians do not have "alone time" like Americans do. In fact they find it quite odd that I should EVER want to go to my house when there's no one there. They literally spend from morning to night, everyday, all year in the presence of other people. Its really mind-boggling to me, actually. So, you are bound to spend a plenitude of time with your neighbors. (2) This is the reason (close enough to) verbatim that Felix gave me. " Well, what if something happens to you, or someones coming to your house to harm you, or someones breaking in to steal your stuff, how is your friend all the way across town going to help you?". Valid enough.

I keep having these re-occurring dreams where I travel to the US for a visit, only I always have trouble getting back. Like once I couldnt find the gate at the airport, once I couldnt find my visa, once the car broke down on the way to the airport. These dreams are very panicky and full of anxiety, although I always manage to get on the plane and make it back to Ghana just in the nick of time. What do you think these dreams mean? What do you think it would cost for me to call that dream doctor on the radio in Atlanta from here?

So, while our main goal here as volunteers is to teach and work on the development of Ghana, we also have two other goals. One, to learn about Ghanaian culture so we can then share that with others when we get back home. Two, to spread knowledge about American culture to the Ghanaians. And this latter goal is one that is very much in need. The other day I was sitting with an American friend having a calabash of pito (pito is served in these huge wooden (they're not actually wooden, they are the shell of a fruit that looks like a watermelon and is cut in half and dried) bowls). There was this extremely talkative guy next to us that would not be quiet for the life of him, so I figured since we had to listen to him anyways, I may as well steer the conversation to something somewhat interesting (although my friend told me that if I provoked him to keep talking , he would never speak to me again). So I said to the man, "so, what do you know about American?" And his response was "Oh, I know a lot from when I was in high school. I know all about the important people, like Abraham Lincoln and Caesar." It was hysterical! We almost fell off our bench we were laughing so hard.

So, one of my fellow teachers, and closest friends here, is also a grave digger. In the UWR of Ghana there are 3 religions: Islam, Christianity, and Traditionalism. He was telling me what happens when a traditionalist dies. Here goes: The body is laid down flat. Then someone slits the throat of a fowl. The fowls blood is then spread around the body in a complete circle 3 times. Then blood is placed between the big and second toe on the body's left foot. Then a small feather is plucked from the fowl and placed in the blood. I was assured that it will stick quite nicely to the blood so that it will stand up. After a traditionalist dies (I dont know if there are any women traditionalists, by the way), it is believed that he will go on a journey to find his ancestors (the ancestors are their version of God, from what I can gather). If, while on the journey, he should pass a woman, he should leave her alone (as everyone knows women are weak). However, if he should pass a man, he should instantly cut the mans throat to kill him, then cut off the mans penis and testes and he should eat them to prove his manhood (some in the US would argue that doing so would be denying his manhood :). Thats some version of purgatory~!

Relationships form in the strangest ways. A month ago or so I sat by this old woman while drinking pito. Everyone was pretty jovial, as is the usual consequence of chatting over pito, and I referred to the old woman as my mother (sorry mom :). The next day, this woman came to my house with an entire bag of rice for me, simply because of that remark! And a friendship was born. Since then, she has come to my house on several occasions and we have chatted to the extent my Degarre will allow (she speaks NO English). We talk about farming, food, cooking, and where we have been, will be going. Sometimes I share alcohol, if I happen to have some at my house (which is almost never), and mostly we just sit in silence. Here, you quickly learn the skill of sitting in a comfortable silence in the presence of other beings. Something that is not so common in the US.

While walking to this internet cafe to write this blog today, i passed this small girl. She couldn't have been over the age of 4. She was facing a small cement block, slapping it over and over with a cane and yelling at it. No, caning in school definitely doesnt teach these kids to solve their problems by hitting. No, not at all.

Love you all, miss you all. Until next time. -Di