Why you'll never see me on a "People" magazine cover...

I know I've touched on this in previous blog posts, but I've been thinking a lot about concepts of "privacy" lately and thought it might make for an interesting post...

The other day one of my fellow volunteers came to visit me, and we were talking about the fact that we feel like we understand the lives of celebrities a little better since moving to this continent. My friend told me about the lack of privacy at his site being exacerbated by the fact that he lives inside of a compound with several nurses who are always acutely aware of where he's going, what he's doing, and how late he sleeps in ("you've finally woken up!"). Because I don't live inside of a compound, I don't quite face the same scrutiny that he does from his housemates, but I still understand the feeling that accompanies it. For instance, even though I live on the outside of a cement compound, the latrine that I use is located inside the compound, where several Ghanaians live. These are mostly men who work for ITFC, and I get along great with these guys. They've helped me on numerous occasions, chasing bats out of my house late at night, finding my lost cat, and just being there with a smile and good conversation. But at the same time, it is rare that I enter the compound and don't see at least a couple of them, which makes trips to the bathroom quite a public affair. This was particularly troublesome at the beginning of my service, when I first got to my site. I was still getting used to local food and my body was adjusting to a new place, and let's just say I got to know my latrine pretty well in those first few months. And nearly ever time that I entered the compound, particularly if I did it multiple times in a day, my housemates would get very concerned. "Madam," they would say, "It seems as though your stomach is running. You must be feeling sick since you are coming here plenty." In other words, even the condition of my stomach (not something we Americans are used to freely sharing about) was a topic of general interest and concern.

Now, those are just a few examples of the type of public display that we and our bodies face quite often. In many ways, I have simply accepted the fact that I, being a white foreigner, am a rarity in this area. The daily life of villagers can get a little old (as it occasionally does, I suppose, for every other type of person everywhere on the planet), so having a person around who hilariously butchers your language, looks very different than all of your friends and family, and has the ability to send your children screaming and running into the bush at the mere sight of her makes for great conversation around town. I have become used to a new "normal," which is one that includes greeting every person I pass and answering any questions they might (and usually do) ask, such as "where are you going?" "where are you coming from?" and "what are you doing?" It also includes being the center of a lot of conversations, whether or not I realize that I am. I've heard my name mentioned in countless rapid exchanges in Dagbani, and people always seem to want to chat about my language abilities (or, more accurately, my lack thereof). Never before in my life have I felt so many eyes on me at once, especially when we have festivals, celebrations, and "jams." Since drummng and dancing is such an important part of this culture, I often find myself on the outskirts of a massive circle of people with a makeshift dance floor in the middle and my friends pushing me into the center to dance. I always oblige (these things just don't embarrass me much anymore...), to the delight of the crowd. Yelling, cheering, and laughing always ensue, which encourages me to further make a fool out of myself :)

Probably the most significant change in my life as far as privacy is concerned is the lack of privacy when I am in my home. Sure, I live alone, and I do have frosted windows that, when closed, make it difficult to snoop, but there are almost always children around who are greeting me, asking me for things, or just trying to get a peek inside at the siliminga. Some days this can be very precious, like when I hear the little 2 and 3 year olds squeaking out "Madam Kate! Madame Kate!" Sometimes, it's fun to have a big group of kids run over to my place and just want to spend time with me, whether it's coloring or playing frisbee or doing relay races (they looove the wheelbarrow). There are many times when I certainly don't mind giving up a little bit of privacy to play with the kids and cuddle with the babies. Other times, however, the children can be relentless. When I am cooking, eating, sleeping, reading, working... you name the activity and the time of day, and there are probably some children around peeping into my windows and calling my name. They seem to know when I've had a particularly trying day, and just can't resist the urge to yell a little louder and nag me a little more than usual (but then again, maybe my ears are just a little more sensitive on those days...). Those are the moments when I wish I could just lock myself in a sound-proof room for an hour, but that would be nearly impossible to do here, obviously. (come to think of it, learning to deal with this aspect of my life is, I suppose, is good prep for the future if I plan on having kids of my own someday...)

Anyway, as the title of this post suggests, I have something of a new appreciation for the lives of "celebrities." Sure, they make enough money to hire full-time security and the lack of privacy is what most people think of as an occupational hazard, but I'm now far less likely to roll my eyes when they complain about the constant "airing out" of their dirty laundry. Sometimes it's hard to put on a smile when you've got a fever of 102 degrees. You don't always want to greet every person you pass, and sometimes you just want to bust a move on the dancefloor without one hundred pairs of eyes staring at you. But even though it's hard, I wouldn't give up my lack of privacy for all the rewards I gain. Sure, those little kids are screaming out my name for a mile as I walk down the road, but they're just so darn cute when they do it, I always arrive at my destination with a smile on my face...

Vacation, Which Means Lots of Time With Just Me and My Thoughts...

If it seems like my blog posts are getting few and far between, it's because they are! haha
The longer I stay here, the harder it is to find new, exciting, and funny stories to share because life is just becoming a new "normal" for me. The more I settle into things, the less of a need I feel to give updates. But with that being said, I hope this post will make up for my infrequency over the past few months.

This week, I traveled down to the Volta Region of Ghana to attend the Kente Festival in Tafi Abuife, where my friend Chris is stationed as a PC volunteer. I left Tamale on Thursday afternoon, spent the night in the city of Kumasi, and finally made it to my friend's village on late Friday afternoon. I traveled down with 3 other PC friends from the North, and needless to say, we had a great trip! I never look forward to extremely long, hot, and cramped tro rides, but we somehow found a way to enjoy ourselves. Between perusing hilarious books about suggestions for "the best new text messages to send to friends" and singing in the back of buses, the time passed quickly (it didn't hurt that the scenery was fantastic). We met up with about 20 other volunteers at the festival, which was great because I hadn't seen many of them since Thanksgiving when we all celebrated at the Ambassador's house. We danced, drank some cold cokes, and caught up on our lives over the past few months, which was exactly the vacation that I needed.

The next day brought more festivities, as everyone gathered for a durbar in which "big men" like the Minister of Tourism and the Peace Corps Country Director spoke and we all celebrated the history and production of kente cloth. Kente is a type of traditional woven cloth made in Ghana. I took some pictures on my camera, but I left my cord at home so I can't upload any, but I have pasted a photo to the right that shows what some typical kente strips look like. They are bright and beautiful and each of the designs has its own story and meaning. Besides hanging out at the kente festival, a few of us found some time to visit a nearby monkey sanctuary. I have never seen monkeys in the wild before, so this was a really fun experience for me. The guide gave us bananas and the monkeys ate them right out of our hands, which was slightly scary (I didn't want to get bitten!) but also awesome. The monkeys just chilled in the trees and wandered down when they saw the food. It's clear that this was a tourist location so the animals were quite comfortable with letting you get close to them, but it was still fun to see them suddenly jump from trees and run out toward you. I will post some pictures later.

One of the best parts about my trip was the incredible scenery. Since I live in the northern region of the country, I am not used to seeing many mountains or lush greenery. The further north you go, the more the terrain becomes flatter and less tropical. I don't mind that I live in the "high plains" area, especially because there are such drastic differences between the rainy season and the hot season in terms of what the scenery looks like. In the rainy season, things get far more lush, and we have a lot of tall grass and beautiful trees. In the dry season (which we are in the middle of right now), everything dies, so you have long stretches of what looks sort of like desert and very few green grass or leafy trees. The southern part of the country, however, is much closer to the equator and doesn't have as much of a "dry" season, so it rains year-round and is much more humid. This means that the landscapes are very tropical and they stay green throughout the year, so traveling down there was a nice treat for all of us "notherners." It made me really appreciate the beauty of this country and reminded me that there are so many differences between my experience at my site and the experience of others at their posts.

On our long trip down to the festival, I was talking with one of my fellow volunteers about the frustrations of some of our work. Specifically, I shared a story with her about a recent event that I helped out at with another volunteer. We taught a lesson on HIV to about 120 men who do road work. The lesson was great-the men where very attentive and asked good questions. We were excited about the lesson until we got to the end, where we decided to hand out some free condoms that we had been given to encourage them to protect themselves. As soon as we got out the boxes of condoms, the men who had been so calmly sitting in their seats and listening to the lesson became an uncontrollable mob. They were pushing, shoving, yelling, grabbing, and doing absolutely anything necessary to grab the condoms we were trying to pass out. There were plenty of condoms to go around, but there was a frantic feeling that seemed to pass over the crowd and each man wanted to be sure that he was getting his share. After many frustrating and fruitless attempts to make the men form lines, we ended up just throwing the condoms on the ground and allowing them to have a free-for-all because things were absolutely crazy. I shared this story with my friend, and noted that the men at that event reminded me of the children who come to my house and go crazy when I have any extra candy or trinkets to give out. Even the most docile of children will start yelling, pushing, and clawing their way to me in order to get as much as they can of whatever I'm giving. She agreed that she has witnessed the same behavior in her village and we discussed the reasons behind why this might be. I have been in crowds like this in America, where people are pushing and shoving their way to the front of a line or trying to grab the last of something that is being passed out. But I think one of the big differences here is a sort of "hoarding" mentality. It is not just that everyone is trying to get their fair share, but that every person is trying to get as much of the item as possible. The men at the event were shoving condoms down their pockets and grabbing for more, even though I know that many of these men don't even really care about the condoms and probably will not use them. The point is that they were being given something for free, and they wanted to get their hands on as many of these free items as possible. I am reminded of the way that many people growing up during the Great Depression have/had a tendancy to hold on to things for a long time and hoard items when the received them. I think this comes out of a fear that there will not be enough to "go around." It is something of a self-preservation technique for you and your family, and I am learning that in areas like the one in which I live, you must have a certain degree of this in your life. You have to be tenacious. It is better to take advantage of every opportunity, particulary when you don't have to work for it. Especially when the thing offered is being given to you for free. Now, I have MANY more thoughts on this subject, including the ways in which I think the West has amplified this mentality of chaotic "grabbing" in the developing world and how I believe that the traditional approach to "development" has actually magnified problems and encouraged societies of dependency in the developing world and societies of guilt in the developed world.... But I will save those thoughts for another blog post (or several). I look forward to engaging in some good conversations about these things when I visit home this summer! Until the next post, an ice cream cone for my sake-I have a major craving :)

Living Without...

As I mentioned in my last blog post, lately I've been thinking about my life back in America before I started this great adventure in Ghana... My thoughts toward home manifest in a sort of distant fondness, and I sometimes find myself longing to visit places like the grocery store or my favorite cofffee shop. Inevitably, when my thoughts turn to the states, I am reminded of the many things that I've learned how to live without. The subject of this post is slightly ironic, considering the fact that I'm "watching" the Peace Corps sub-office this week while the volunteer who usually takes care of things here is away for a conference. This means that I've enjoyed several days of electricity, fans, internet, and nightly movies, as well as getting to play host to the many volunteers who come in and out of the office on a daily basis. Now that I think of it, I suppose my circumstances this week are quite fitting to my topic today, considering how pampered I've felt since I got to the office...

I know I've mentioned it many times before, but at my site, I don't have electricity and I use a pit latrine. This means when I'm in my house, I don't have luxuries like lights, fans, or a flush toilet. When I put it that way, it sounds a lot like an extended camping trip, where you simply learn to put up with daily annoyances, but I'd also like to share my thoughts on the simplicity and beauty of actually living without some of the things that we as Americans have grown accustomed to in our everyday lives.

I know that in the past, I have certainly been deceived into believing that certain conveniences, like a grocery store or even something as simple as a glass of cold water, are things that I was somehow owed. I think we often grow so accustomed to our way of life that we forget that there are other ways to live. Now, I had traveled a little to the developing world before coming to Ghana, going on a few mission trips to Mexico and traveling to Honduras, so I had some idea about what life might be like here, and the sacrifices that I might have to make to adopt a new standard of living. Yet since moving here and settling into my routines, I've come to realize that living in a place like this is not only about sacrifice, but is also about adjusting to a new way of life. Basically, I've come to realize the many things that I can live without, and yet still be satisfied and fulfilled. I've started to understand the difference between wants and desires in an entirely different way than before, and I think I have become far more appreciative of things that I used to take for granted.

Take, for instance, that glass of cold water that I mentioned before. Before moving to Ghana, I can hardly remember a time when I poured myself some water and it wasn't cold. It was something that I took for granted, because when you are at home, there is no reason why you shouldn't be able to enjoy a chilled beverage. Cold water comes out of the tap, anything can be refrigerated, and we have machines automated to provide us with the convenience of ice without having to open the freezer. We even expect public drinking fountains to spout cold water. A chilled drink was just one of many conveniences that I considered a need, and one that I was sure to complain about if for some reason there was not access to it. These days, I view any water that comes from a faucet as a luxury. Cold water, to me, has become something of a (rare) gift. You see, in many villages around my area, there isn't water to be had without walking a significant distance back and forth to the bore hole (or river) with a bucket on your head. You can't just turn on the faucet and fill up a sink, because there is no faucet (or sink, for that matter). You wait to drink water until you absolutely need to, because you don't want to waste the precious water that you have taken time and energy to fetch. In places like my village, where there is no electricity, there is no cold water to be found. Imagine coming home from a long day working outside. You are sweaty, dirty, exhausted, and so thirsty that you have a headache. When you finally draw a cup of water from the barrel, you take a big sip... of warm water. It's amazing how, after getting used to the reality that your water will always be like bath water (as it sits in a bucket in 110 degree weather all day), you realize that drinking something cold is not a necessity. You can live without ice. You can live without the refreshment of something cool. And when you realize this, you appreciate the ice so much more when you actually get it.

There are other things, like television and the internet, that I have also learned to live without (at least learned to live with minimum access to). Living my life without being fully "connected" all the time has helped me to realize how unfulfilling those connections truly are, especially when they take the place of relationships. Village life has helped me to appreciate the value of living and working through difficult times without falling back on the escapism of television or the internet. Quiet nights have taught me more about myself than any personality test could, and I am continually learning the importance of being happy without having to be "entertained."

These are just a few of the lessons I feel I have learned since living here. While "living without" certain conveniences can be, well... inconvenient, I have learned (and continue to learn) what it is that I can go without in my life and still be satisfied. I have even discovered that living without some things is actually much better than the alternative, and far more fulfilling.

Stella and Stargazing

First of all, I'd like to say that I absolutely can't believe that it is February already... Time is flying by!
Things here are good as usual, though the "Peace Corps Guilt" is once again kicking in with full force. When we get together, we volunteers often talk about a somewhat pervasive, mostly self-imposed guilt that we feel when we're at our sites (or away from our sites, for that matter). It's simply the feeling that you're not "doing" enough work, or not integrating enough, to be considered a "good volunteer." The idea is totally unfounded, we know, but it's hard to feel like you're doing good work when you're sitting in your house munching on mangoes and reading a novel because it's just too hot to walk outside into the sun... Anyway, as my service continues, I'm continually having to remind myself that stressing out because I'm not changing lives daily or comparing my work to the work of other volunteers are not productive ways to pass the time. It is seriously difficult, but at the same time, I'm receiving an incredible amount of grace and support to get me through even the most difficult times.

As far as work goes, I've been busy planning for the next few months of work, which will mostly consist of continuing our 32 village HIV testing campaign, starting up a health club at the Gushie Primary School, and helping to train the members of the ITFC Health Committee so that their committee will be self-sustaining in the future. I've got a busy few months ahead of me, which I am both looking forward to and slightly nervous about, as usual. :)

The other day I was thinking about how I was feeling this time last year compared to the reality of being here now. Last February, I hardly had an idea of where I would be posted, or even if I would be receiving an invitation to join Peace Corps. I remember having some pretty grandiose ideas about what it would be like to be a PCV: living in a village, speaking the language, working on many projects, and having my heart warmed by the cute children. Looking back, I now realize that many of my expectations were far rosier than the reality of living here has turned out to be. Yes, I live in a village with no electricity and use a hole in the ground as a toilet, but it's rarely as self-sacrificing as it sounds. In reality, I am lucky to have semi-running water, to be within walking distance of a company where I can charge my electronic devices whenever I so desire, and to live literally right next to the best road in the Northern Region. Speaking the language is certainly not as glamorous as I thought it would be. Most days I barely struggle through more than a few sentences without having to search for someone who speaks English to translate for me. As far as the cute children go... well, they are pretty great, especially when they're calling out "Madam Kate! Madam Kate, how are you, I am fine, thank you!" (said in one fast, frantic, run-on sentence). But they're not quite as cute when they are peeking into your windows while you nap or demanding "Tim ma toffee!" (give me candy!) over and over again, despite the fact that you've told them 50 times in the past week, "CHELLA! N KA TOFFEE!!!!" (Stop it! I don't have candy!). All of this to say that living and working here is, in so many ways, not at all what I imagined it would be, and yet it's somehow so much more.

 Lately, I've been spending my evenings curled up reading a good book by candlelight with my kitty Stella flopped on my stomach sleeping. I doubt that I'll have too many other times in my life where I will have so much freedom to just relax and enjoy simple pleasures, so I'm trying to soak up these moments while I have an abundance of them. Another recent night time habit of mine has been to go stargazing, which always puts me in a better mood and makes me appreciate the beauty of the place I live in. The stars are incredibly intense, considering the fact that most nights are entirely cloudless and clear, and there are no lights in my village to obscure the sky. Once again, I realize that it is a rare gift to be able to enjoy moments like these in a place like this, and I'm trying to do my best to take the time and breathe in the beauty and simplicity of these moments.

As usual, you're in my thoughts and prayers. Much love from Ghana :)

Peace Corps Volunteers Have Fun Too!

Well, it's been a while since I've written anything on here, so I guess I'll start with a little update of what I've been doing lately. I spent New Year's Eve in the village, which was pretty lame considering the Muslims here go by the lunar calendar and don't really celebrate New Years at all. I stayed in my house for the evening and ended up falling asleep around 7:30pm. I woke up a little after midnight, looked at my clock, and said "Happy New Year!" to myself. Then I promptly went back to sleeep until the morning, when I awoke to morning prayers at 4am. Pretty standard night, honestly :)

Since then, I haven't done anything too groundbreaking. I've been back and forth to Tamale a few times, but mostly sticking to my site and hanging around the village. I'm still working on helping ITFC set up their employee health and welfare fund, which is a slow but rewarding process. Now that the primary school is back in session and several of my friends are teachers, I have been spending more time at the school just hanging out with the teachers and students. Other than that, I mostly go to my friends' houses and hold their babies and struggle through my Dagbani as usual!

On Sunday, my friend Kimmy came to visit my site for a few days and spend some time in the Northern Region. Kimmy is also a health, water, and sanitation Peace Corps volunteer who is stationed in the Upper West Region and has become one of my best friends here. She wanted to brainstorm about project ideas and visit my site, so I was very excited to show her around and hang out with her for a few days. Kimmy is also originally from West Michigan, and we like to joke that we're basically the same person (She even worked at Chicken Coop for a while in high school like me). Anyway, it was great to have a friend around for a few days, and my village (obviously) LOVED having another white lady there to hang out with :) We visited the company, greeted my friends in the village, and we even went over to the primary school to teach some kids how to play volleyball after school. The primary students really want to start a sports club at the school, so I think I'm going to go help teach them sports after school and incorporate a health element as well to help educate these children while they have fun.

On one day, we went to our friend Kristina's market. Kristina is one of my closest neighbors and she has a GREAT, huge market with tons of produce, weaved baskets, fabric, etc... We found a huge pile of wonderful shirts, and many of them were pretty stylish American clothes. It is so fun to rummage around these piles, much like a massive yard sale. The absolute best part of buying clothes at her market, however, is the fact that everything is ridiculously CHEAP. I'm talking 20 pesewas for a shirt. To give you an idea of how cheap this is, I will tell you how much money I spent on 6 shirts, all of which looks very gently used and were popular brands in America (basically, clothes you would buy in the States). In total, I paid 1.2 Gh Cedis for 6 shirts, which is approximately 85 American cents. For 6 SHIRTS. I was in awe. I love Kristina's market! After buying some produce and baskets and just wandering around the massive market, we went to a pito drinking spot for a calabash full of pito. Pito is a type of beer made from fermented millet, and it's pretty popular in Northern Ghana (and some other parts of West Africa). It can only be found in the houses of people who produce it, and you drink it (usually at room temperature or warm) from a calabash. The alcohol content is very small, and it tastes sort of like a slightly bitter cider, but I definitely drink it more for the experience than for the taste. I finally decided that I should start uploading pictures to this blog to give a better idea of what I'm talking about, so below is a photo of (from left to right) me, Kimmy, and Kristina at a pito home outside of the market drinking from our calabashes!

On Kimmy's last night at my site, we invited our friend Connor to join us for dinner and to check out my site. The three of us decided to make fajitas for dinner, so we asked Connor to pick up some meat in town before he came to my village. We expected him to buy some chicken from a cold store or maybe some beef from a street vendor, but he arrived at my site with a LIVE Guinea Fowl. Guinea Fowl is a type of bird that is native to Africa and has very delicious meat that basically tastes like chicken (except better and more sweet, in my opinion). I have come to develop a love/hate relationship with these birds, since I truly enjoy their meat, but I cannot stand the noises they make in the morning outside my house, which is where many of them enjoy roaming. It's an awful, relentless, screeching sound. Simply terrible. Anyway, Kimmy and Connor, being the awesome and integrated volunteers that they are, decided that we ought to slaughter the fowl ourselves, despite several of my friends in the village suggesting that we allow them to handle the bird for us. I took photos while they killed the bird, both because someone had to document the ordeal and because I'm not all that big on slitting a bird's throat, plucking its feathers, and chopping it up. I don't consider myself super squeamish or anything, just not big on doing that kind of thing myself, if you know what I mean. Anyway, they struggled a little at the beginning, and it was pretty hilarious to see my Ghanaian friends accross the street pointing and laughing at the "Silimingas" trying to slaughter the bird. In the end, though, we ate DELICIOUS Guinea Fowl fajitas (thanks to mom who sent me fajita mix! I love packages!) and a chocolate cake (also provided by mom in a package), so we considered the night quite a huge success :)

So that's basically all I've been up to lately. Although being at site has its ups and downs just like anything else, I'm really enjoying myself and I'm so thankful for my friendships with my fellow volunteers. It's great to have friends who share similar passions and dreams, and  As much as I love learning about and experiencing this different culture, there's something refreshing about hanging out with some fellow Americans and reminiscing about our favorite foods and our lives back in the States :) Right now, I'm headed back to my site, and I just got a text from another volunteer telling me that she is on the road bringing me a kitten right now, so I'm hoping within a few hours I'll have a new addition to my little household :) Hopefully this works out, since my last three attempts at getting a cat have failed miserably... I'm crossing my fingers and looking forward to some feline company (and a mouse hunter!). Anyway, that's all the updates I have for now! Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers!

(not quite) Home for the Holidays

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and will have an equally nice New Year celebration...
As for me, I had a great time over the holidays! I came to Tamale with about 20 of my fellow volunteers to cook, bake, watch Christmas movies, and shoot off fireworks (because, after all, what's Christmas without fireworks?). It was a lot of fun-we ate until we made ourselves sick, lounged around a LOT, and enjoyed each others' company, but it still didn't FEEL like Christmas very much. It's hard for me to get in the holiday spirit without even remotely cold weather and no family around... But like I said, I still had a great time with everyone here! It was a pretty good "first Christmas away from home."

Last week, before coming to Tamale to celebrate Christmas, we finally put on the football camp that I've been helping to plan since October. We arrived in Savelugu on Sunday morning to put the final preparations in place before students started arriving on Sunday afternoon. I brought along 11 other Peace Corps volunteers to help with the camp, and soon the kids started showing up. We ended up having 61 kids representing about 30 villages in the Northern Region, ranging in age from 11-20 years old (I know that sounds strange to have such an age range, but somehow it worked out).  I quickly realized that although I had initially thought the camp would be led by the two other volunteers who I work closely with, I was basically the one in charge. This had  turned into "my" camp, since I had done the majority of the prep work and I had come up with the schedule and activities...

I have never been "in charge" of something as big as this project before, even before joining Peace Corps. I felt slightly overwhelmed and worried that I would not be able to execute the plans we had made, but God gave me a lot of grace and things went very smoothly. Starting on Monday morning and continuing on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, we had some football players from the Real Tamale United national football team graciously donate their time to lead drills for the boys and girls. Thank God they came, because there's no way the American volunteers (especially me) could have planned drills and set up scrimmages for hours without their help. After playing football all morning, our afternoons were devoted to education and small group sessions. We brought in various guest speakers, including a man living with HIV and a local radio personality named Mama Rush, to encourage the children and challenge them to pursue education and be an example to their friends. The guest speakers were absolutely fantastic; I could not have asked for better people to come and talk to the kids. Each day, the students were glued to whichever speaker was leading the discussion, and I think many kids lives were affected by their stories.

After listening to guest speakers, we spent the rest of our afternoons in small group formatted lessions, and Peace Corps volunteers led discussions on HIV/AIDS, stigmatization, gender equality, family planning, and setting goals for the future. We encouraged the kids to teach their friends and classmates what they had learned and be peer educators in their villages. There was a strong emphasis on continuing education and challenging the children to think about what they wanted to do in their lives professionally, considering many children in this area of the country drop out of school after Jr. High to be farmers or take over household responsibilities in their families. I was blown away by my fellow PC volunteers' commitment to really making connections with these kids, and I think the students really felt inspired by the volunteers and their words of encouragement. On the final day, when we broke into small groups to discuss our role models and share our plans for the future, one of the young girls chose me as her role model. She said she wanted to be like me and teach the children in her village about health. She said I was strong and not afraid to speak, and that I inspired her. I was beyond touched when I heard her say those things, it brought tears to my eyes.

On the final evening of the camp, a local football team approached me to ask if our campers could play a football match with them. I agreed that it would be fun, and soon there were huge crowds gathered to watch the big game. Our girls lost their game, but they played so well, and it was great to see how much they had improved during the week. Once our boys got on the field, we knew it would be a great game, and our campers fought their way to a 2-1 victory! The moment the game was over, all of the campers and PC volunteers rushed the field-there was yelling and dancing and jumping with joy :) We all danced and chanted back to the "barracks" where we were staying, and all of the campers went up to the balcony on the second floor of the building and starting singing and dancing in celebration while the PC volunteers watched below. The entire camp, all of the hard work and stress and lack of sleep, was worth it for that one moment. It was pure joy, seeing those boys and girls celebrate their week of new friendships, improved football skills, and confidence in themselves. It was a beautiful moment for me, and I found myself getting emotional again.

Overall, the camp was a huge success. I feel so blessed by all of the help I got from fellow volunteers and all of the hard work that Ghanaians did to facilitate the event. I know that those kids left that camp with new friendships and more knowledge about HIV, which they can share with their friends and family, and that, to me, was the best outcome I could have asked for.

So now, after the madness of the past month, I'm headed back to Gushie to settle in for a while. I probably won't be updating this blog for a little while, so I hope you have a great New Year's and that you are blessed until we talk again!

Only two words necessary... Fire. Festival.

I have been looking forward to Fire Festival almost since the moment I found out I was going to be stationed in the Northern Region. I heard a lot about it during training, and I did a presentation with a couple of my fellow trainees about northern festivals, so I had also done some research on the activities I would be witnessing/taking part in. Needless to say, by the time the day of the festival arrived (last Thursday), I was stoked. The morning and afternoon were fairly uneventful-I did laundry, rode my bike, did some work at the office, and made lunch. Pretty standard stuff. As the afternoon went by, things stayed pretty normal. There was definitely a buzz in the air, but no festivities had really started yet (after all, it is called the "fire festival" and fire is best viewed at night...)

 While I was hanging out in my usual spot at Yahaya/'s store, I asked some of my friends why we celebrate fire, of all things. They told me a legend about a Dagomba chief who had a son who went into the bush one day to chase after an animal. After some time, the boy did not return, and the chief began to worry. He consulted the elders and as the darkness increased, they decided that the best way to find the son was to set fire to the bush, so that the son would see the fire and find his way back home. According to the story, the chief did indeed set things on fire and it worked-the son found his way back to the village and they have come together once a year to celebrate the fire festival ever since. Now, whether or not this is true or just some story that my friends concocted so they could laugh later (it's possible ha), it still sets the stage for the amazing (and dangerous) celebration of fire.

As we all parted ways for prayers and dinner, my friends told me I better do my best to wear clothing that covered my entire body, for safety. This worried me slightly, but I still dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt (it's COLD here at night!), sneakers, and a hat just in case. I came out of my house shortly after 7pm and just sat on the veranda of my compound, which faces the road. Things were really starting to get dark and children were running from all directions to gather near the chief's palace (conveniently right next door to my compound!). Minutes later, my dear friend Sanatu and her sisters ran up to me carrying giant torches made of long dried grass and tied together with small cloth peices. Many were shaped like crosses, with a long vertical portion and a smaller horizontal crosspeice. This was slightly disconcerting at first (burning crosses? What have I gotten myself into?), but soon I realized that this structure was simply for asthetic appeal, so no worries there... Anyway, Sanatu handed me a massive torch, which was unlit because the festival had not begun yet. So there we were, gathered around with our unlit torches on the side of the road, waiting for the chief to emerge. The moment the chief stepped out of his palace, everyone went crazy. The drummers started drumming and singing, and everyone was dancing around in anticipation. This alone was a sight to see. Well, the chief chose a spot directly in front of my house to light the first flame on his torch, after which a FLOOD of people ran over with their own torches to light their torches from the fire of his, and soon nearly everyone had burning torches in their hands.

This is when the fun really started.

I was practically in a trance already, since I've always had a fascination with fire (maybe from all of those years of burning leaves in the yard with dad), but as the crowd gathered and multiplied, I was absolutely mesmorized. Imagine a group of about 700 people of all ages. We're talking young men, the elderly, even children and babies, all gathered together in a massive crowd with fire glowing like a canopy overhead. We assembled our crowd in the middle of the highway (traffic didn't stand a chance against us that night) and starting making our way down the road. The children swung their torches high above their heads. Men in their 20s were painted with ash, wearing traditional tribal jewelry and walking with bare feet. Mothers held torches in front of them while their babies, strapped to their backs in cloth, stared in amazement. A whole slew of drummers set the tone of the march with varied songs and chants, while elderly women brought up the rear with dancing and chanting. Boys as young as 12 wandered the crowd with guns and machetes, occasionally shooting into the air or scraping the ground loudly with the tips of their knives (I told you this was dangerous, but thankfully no one was hurt).

As we danced and sang our way down the road, we lit nearly everything in sight. After about 20 minutes of walking/dancing, we arrived at a massive tree and people of all ages started throwing their torches at the tree to light it on fire. I kept my distance (throwing fire? No thanks), and soon everyone had thrown their torches and picked up unburnt branches from the tree and started waving them around, as the procession continued. This actually reminded me of what it might have been like when the people waved palm branches and celebrated the arrival of Jesus on a donkey (minus Jesus and the donkey, of course). We waved our branches above our heads and swung them to the ground, back and forth, to the rhythm of the drums. Since Gushie is lacking electricity, the only light to guide us was the moon, and the silhouettes of the branches were stunning.

Soon, however, we reached a stopping point, at which time we laid our branches on the ground and picked up new torches, and soon the fire aspect of the festival was underway again. At this point, things went from awesome to absolutely incredible. With our reignited torches, the chief led the way back down the road in the opposite direction, only this time, everyone was running. I was lucky enough to be in the front of the pack, so I stopped for a split second to look back at this massive body of people with their torches lit, all running as fast as they could. As we ran, those on the outer edges of the road let their torches drag, so that the grass on either side of the road was catching on fire as we passed. I wish I could show you a picture of that moment. It was unreal. I took photos throughout the night (pictures to come very soon!), but at that particular time, I chose to keep my camera in my pocket and just soak up the surreality of the experience. I'm so glad I did.

After this triumphant ending, we were sent off to our invidual compounds with the sound of drumming and lingering songs. My friends walked me back home, and I could hardly even contain my excitement. The whole festival took about 4 hours, but it went by like a flash. Everything was so amazing, so beautiful, so dangerous. It was an experience I will never forget. Thank God I get to see it again next year.

Redefining Success.

I just arrived back to the North from Kumasi for my In-Service training. It was a week filled with sessions about writing grants, exercises related to HIV, and thinking about potential projects in our villages. I really loved reuniting with my health/watsan sector, and it was interesting to see how the conversations have changed since we all left training to go to our sites. Instead of discussing our fears and excitements about language learning, leaving our friends, and trying to figure out what we'd do once we got to our villages, our conversations since becoming volunteers have moved to the challenges and triumphs we've had so far at site, funny stories about integrating into our communites (or failing to do so), and our plans for projects. Overall, it was a great week!
This training got me thinking about a lot of things related to the duties of a volunteer and what it means to do the work that I do. I view much of my job as helping people in my community plan and implement projects to move them toward further development. So far, this has manifested in me helping my fellow volunteers with projects that encourage people to take control of their health and educate them about the relationship between behavior and overall health. I've found that I feel most effective as a volunteer when I'm teaching a lesson, attending a conference, or executing an event (makes sense). It gives me a feeling of accomplishment, and the more people who attend whatever program I'm helping to put on, the more accomplished I feel.
Last week, however, made me re-think my role here and my goals as a volunteer. I tend to be a fairly driven person, and I have often, in the past, gauged my success by the quantity of the work I have done. In college, I felt that long papers and marathon study sessions were a reflection of my dedication, and I have always lived and breathed "good grades." I think I've taken this approach toward the first few months of my service here, though I haven't necessarily made a conscious effort to do so. For me, writing proposals, educating lots of people, and completing physical projects have been the benchmarks by which I've been subconsciously (and consciously) evaluating my work and future planning. In our Pre-Service Training (my first three months in Ghana), we heard numerous staff and current PC volunteers echo the idea that being successful as a volunteer is so much more than just doing lots of work. I listened to these people, though I'm not sure I totally took control of that idea, or rather, I felt like that approach would work for some volunteers, but I didn't want to leave Ghana without having plenty of tangible projects under my belt.
Needless to say, I didn't exactly take the "lay low for the first 3 months at site" advice to the level that some of my colleagues did. I didn't start too many projects on my own, but I jumped at every opportunity to help with fellow volunteers' projects and became known among some people in my training group as over-eager and maybe even hasty. The thing that my fellow PC volunteers learned (and I am just starting to grasp) is that the whole point of not starting projects when you first come to your site is a lesson in patience and re-evaluation of what constitutes success. In the past week, as I've reflected on my time in Gushie so far, I've realized that even though I've helped with campaigns and taught lessons, what stands out in my mind so far are the moments I've had celebrating festivals, struggling through the language, and mastering the art of shopping at the market. These are successes, but in a different way than I have been evaluating success. Sitting on a bench with my friends or stirring a pot of soup represents more than just cultural lessons. These activities teach me about my community, help me to build relationships that are the cornerstone to any development work, and change my understanding of the world around me. When I leave Ghana, I don't want my legacy to be that of "the girl who built us things" or "the volunteer who did a lot of work," though that doesn't mean there isn't value in projects and education (there definitely is!). I want my community to remember me as a friend and a colleague. I want the value of my work to be on relationships rather than statistics. I want to look back and recognize that the integration process and development process were equal contributors to my success as a volunteer.
I don't want to sound preachy, but I think it's important to share these lessons with you because they are truly forming my experiences here. Maybe you've already learned these things. Maybe you've already put material success in its proper place beside relational growth. But then again, maybe you're like me, and you're just now starting to learn these principles. It's really hard to redefine success beyond tangible results, particularly so when you are an American, I believe. Yet I'm starting to realize that when you just benchmark your success according to how much "work" you've accomplished, you're missing one of the most important triumphs in life, which is how many lives you've touched. And that doesn't come from building latrines and handing out mosquito nets; that comes through relationships with your community.

Here, There, and Everywhere...

Happy Thanksgiving!
I hope the holidays find you well! I am currently updating my blog from Accra in the beautiful house of the American embassy family I'm staying with for a few days. I'll tell you more about that later in the post...

Last Wednesday I left site to meet up with 3 other volunteers for our know-your-status campaign called "No Wealth without Health." We arrived in the large village of Kumbungu, where we set up our base camp for the next few days. Starting Wednesday night, we had our first event in a nearby village called Zugu. The first night was a huge success, as we had around 400 villagers show up and we tested over 100 people for HIV. We hired the Ministry of Information to bring their truck and video equipment so we could show several films in Dagbani relating to HIV transmission and encouraging anti-stigmatization. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night we repeated the program in 3 other surrounding villages, all of which we felt were very successful! It was absolutely rewarding and exciting to see villagers gather to hear this vital information and see so many people lining up to get tested for HIV. Each night we started the program around 6:30pm, just as the villagers were finishing their evening prayers, and we never got back to our room earlier than 11pm, as so many people were staying late into the night getting tested. Overall, we estimate that we reached more than 1200 villagers and tested nearly 700 people. These events really motivated me and made me very excited for future campaigns, as we will eventually be reaching around 40 villages with this program throughout the next year. This is the type of work that I've envisioned myself doing here in Ghana-helping to plan health-related programs, encouraging people to take control of their health, and training villagers to share life-saving information with their families and villages. I am certainly blessed to be a part of this team and have the chance to work on such large-scale projects in this capacity.

After finishing our last event on Saturday night, we left early Sunday morning to make the 13+ hour bus ride down to Accra for an HIV/AIDS Peer Educator training conference. In addition to the 4 Peace Corps volunteers working for ITFC, we brought  9 mango farmers who we have helped train to become peer educators in their respective villages and districts. The two day conference, put on by an organization called GTZ, revealed statistics about peoples' knowledge of HIV and AIDS based on surveys they have performed over the past year. We learned a lot about the regional and cultural differences in Ghana that help to explain differing attitudes toward stigmatization and the spread of disease, as well as hearing updates from other peer educators around the country concerning projects they have started. Overall, I think our farmers learned a great deal and will be able to take the information they gleaned and share it with others, which is always our goal...

After the conference ended on Tuesday, me and my fellow volunteers stayed in the Accra area since we are celebrating Thanksgiving here this week. After meeting up with several other volunteers and enjoying ice cream sundaes (you've gotta treat yourself when you can!), I was picked up by my "Accra family" and brought to their house, where I'm staying until tomorrow. The father of this family, Josh, is currently serving here in Ghana with the Marine Corps, so his wife Jana and 2 children also live here and have settled into a beautiful Embassy-provided home here in Accra. Since arriving here, I've been overwhelmed by their generosity and hospitality. They have provided me with an air-conditioned bedroom (HEAVEN), my own bathroom with a flush toilet (I've never been more thankful for a toilet), and free reign of the television and kitchen. I've already watched "Dancing with the Stars," eaten spinach dip, and taken a hot shower, so I could not be more thankful to them!!! Seriously, I had absolutely forgotten what it was like to stand under a hot shower or eat potato chips and dip or lounge in front of the tv just because I can. While I still love my quiet village life and am hardly jealous of the lifestyle (besides the cheese), it is absolutely wonderful to have a break from the routine and be pampered for a few days.

I've been thinking about all of the things I'm thankful for this year, and the list is too long to write in its entirety here, but I'd like to mention a few things. First of all, I'm thankful to be here in Ghana. I am SO BLESSED to have this opportunity to learn, grow, and be challenged every day. I am thankful that I live in a wonderful village with beautiful people who care about me and who have opened up their lives to me, a stranger, in astounding ways. I am thankful for my family and friends back in the States, who have been so encouraging and supportive. I am thankful for my "family" in Accra who have opened up their home to me and made the holidays feel a little more bearable. I am thankful for my Peace Corps friends here in Ghana who help keep me sane when I can't handle another bite of fufu or another child coming to my house to greet me in Dagbani. I am thankful for my health and the energy to keep moving forward with new activities and projects. I could go on and on, but it's time to go to the ambassador's house, so I'll have to stop!

Thank-you everyone for your love and support. I'm thinking of you today and wishing everyone a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Guess I'm a village girl at heart...

I just arrived at the Peace Corps office in Tamale after a long week of traveling down to Accra (the capitol of Ghana) for medical treatment. I had gone to Tamale on Sunday night to celebrate Halloween, and on Monday morning, just as I was about to head back to site, I snatched a Jolly Rancher from the "free candy" stash at the office, only to bite down just a little too hard and hear something snap. It was a horrible, familiar sound (I've broken the same tooth 3 other times) as nearly half of my front tooth cracked apart. Needless to say, I was pretty mad at myself for letting that happen and I called the PCMO (the Peace Corps doctor) to tell him what happened and he said I should try to travel down to Accra as soon as possible. I already had a bag packed from the night before, and if I left right away, I knew I could make it to the sub-office in Kumasi, about halfway between here and Accra. So I dashed over to the bus, hopped on, and started frantically calling everyone to let them know where I was headed and have people inform my village that I wasn't abandoning them :) About 6 hours later, I arrived in Kumasi and was again struck by how different southern Ghana is from northern Ghana. For one thing, we just don't have big cities like the South. I mean, genuine street signs? multi-story buildings? traffic jams? Tamale just isn't that developed yet, and I was amazed at how unfamiliar it was to feel like I was in a regular 'ole city in the states or something...
After spending the night at the (beautiful) sub-office in Kumasi, I finished up the last 6 hours of my trip and ended up in Accra on Tuesday afternoon. I hadn't been to the capitol since the first week I was in Ghana during training, so everything basically seemed new to me. Accra is huge, and getting anywhere costs about a day's wages for a one-way taxi ride (wish I was kidding...), so that again was a shock to my system! Although I will get reimbursed for my traveling, meals, etc... by Peace Corps in my next paycheck, I was shelling out my own money for this trip in the meantime, and the Cedi just doesn't stretch down south like it does up north! EVERYTHING is more expensive in Accra, which makes sense I suppose; the more developed an area is, the more things cost to maintain that level of development. Anyway, besides the cost of everything, I was stunned at how accessible everything is in the capitol. It's sort of a Peace Corps joke that anything you need, you can "get it in Accra" and that does indeed seem to be the case, particularly when you're talking about dining options. Chinese, Indian, American, Thai... You name the food genre and you're bound to find a restaurant serving it up in the finest fashion in Accra. The way people dress is also a noticeable difference between regions. In general, people dress quite differently in the South, wearing less traditional, more Westernized clothing (forgive me for using the word "Westernized." I hate using it as the connotation is often quite ethnocentric, but it seems appropriate in this context). I don't think I've ever seen a woman in my village wear anything besides a skirt or dress, while in Accra there was barely a skirt in sight. This isn't to say that women don't wear pants in the north, or that they never wear skirts or dresses in the south, just an observation based mostly on differences between my conservative Islamic northern village and the metropolitan Christian southern city.
On Wednesday, a wonderful dentist in Accra fixed my tooth and sent me on my way, after which I stumbled on a little cafe close to the place I was staying and enjoyed an American-style chicken club sandwich, french fries, and a chocolate milkshake. All of the stress and money I had spent in the preceeding days faded away as I munched on my meal and watched the HD tv that was playing in the corner of the room... It was truly one of the only redeeming moments of the trip for me, if I'm being honest. By the time I left Accra this morning at 5am to take a straight bus back to Tamale, I was so ready to return to my quiet pace of life I was nearly giddy with anticipation to go back in the North. I'm comfortable here, and I'm starting to really grow accustomed to the atmosphere of Gushie and the people there. I miss them when I leave, I'm anxious to get back and hear if anything happened while I was gone, and most of all, I miss my house when I leave. This place is really starting to feel like "home" to me, and traveling only makes me more acutely aware of that feeling.
Unfortunately, I am making the journey back to Accra at the end of this month. Fortunately, the reason I'm going is to join all of my Peace Corps friends at the American Ambassador's house for a Thanksgiving feast of epic proportions. I think my trip there for turkey day will be infinitely better than this trip was, since I'll be traveling with friends and celebrating my favorite holiday!

Well, that's all for now. More to come soon, I hope...

Guess I'm a village girl at heart...

I just arrived at the Peace Corps office in Tamale after a long week of traveling down to Accra (the capitol of Ghana) for medical treatment. I had gone to Tamale on Sunday night to celebrate Halloween, and on Monday morning, just as I was about to head back to site, I snatched a Jolly Rancher from the "free candy" stash at the office, only to bite down just a little too hard and hear something snap. It was a horrible, familiar sound (I've broken the same tooth 3 other times) as nearly half of my front tooth cracked apart. Needless to say, I was pretty mad at myself for letting that happen and I called the PCMO (the Peace Corps doctor) to tell him what happened and he said I should try to travel down to Accra as soon as possible. I already had a bag packed from the night before, and if I left right away, I knew I could make it to the sub-office in Kumasi, about halfway between here and Accra. So I dashed over to the bus, hopped on, and started frantically calling everyone to let them know where I was headed and have people inform my village that I wasn't abandoning them :) About 6 hours later, I arrived in Kumasi and was again struck by how different southern Ghana is from northern Ghana. For one thing, we just don't have big cities like the South. I mean, genuine street signs? multi-story buildings? traffic jams? Tamale just isn't that developed yet, and I was amazed at how unfamiliar it was to feel like I was in a regular 'ole city in the states or something...

After spending the night at the (beautiful) sub-office in Kumasi, I finished up the last 6 hours of my trip and ended up in Accra on Tuesday afternoon. I hadn't been to the capitol since the first week I was in Ghana during training, so everything basically seemed new to me. Accra is huge, and getting anywhere costs about a day's wages for a one-way taxi ride (wish I was kidding...), so that again was a shock to my system! Although I will get reimbursed for my traveling, meals, etc... by Peace Corps in my next paycheck, I was shelling out my own money for this trip in the meantime, and the Cedi just doesn't stretch down south like it does up north! EVERYTHING is more expensive in Accra, which makes sense I suppose; the more developed an area is, the more things cost to maintain that level of development. Anyway, besides the cost of everything, I was stunned at how accessible everything is in the capitol. It's sort of a Peace Corps joke that anything you need, you can "get it in Accra" and that does indeed seem to be the case, particularly when you're talking about dining options. Chinese, Indian, American, Thai... You name the food genre and you're bound to find a restaurant serving it up in the finest fashion in Accra. The way people dress is also a noticeable difference between regions. In general, people dress quite differently in the South, wearing less traditional, more Westernized clothing (forgive me for using the word "Westernized." I hate using it as the connotation is often quite ethnocentric, but it seems appropriate in this context). I don't think I've ever seen a woman in my village wear anything besides a skirt or dress, while in Accra there was barely a skirt in sight. This isn't to say that women don't wear pants in the north, or that they never wear skirts or dresses in the south, just an observation based mostly on differences between my conservative Islamic northern village and the metropolitan Christian southern city.

On Wednesday, a wonderful dentist in Accra fixed my tooth and sent me on my way, after which I stumbled on a little cafe close to the place I was staying and enjoyed an American-style chicken club sandwich, french fries, and a chocolate milkshake. All of the stress and money I had spent in the preceeding days faded away as I munched on my meal and watched the HD tv that was playing in the corner of the room... It was truly one of the only redeeming moments of the trip for me, if I'm being honest. By the time I left Accra this morning at 5am to take a straight bus back to Tamale, I was so ready to return to my quiet pace of life I was nearly giddy with anticipation to go back in the North. I'm comfortable here, and I'm starting to really grow accustomed to the atmosphere of Gushie and the people there. I miss them when I leave, I'm anxious to get back and hear if anything happened while I was gone, and most of all, I miss my house when I leave. This place is really starting to feel like "home" to me, and traveling only makes me more acutely aware of that feeling.

Unfortunately, I am making the journey back to Accra at the end of this month. Fortunately, the reason I'm going is to join all of my Peace Corps friends at the American Ambassador's house for a Thanksgiving feast of epic proportions. I think my trip there for turkey day will be infinitely better than this trip was, since I'll be traveling with friends and celebrating my favorite holiday!

Well, that's all for now. More to come soon, I hope...

Morning by morning new mercies I see

Hi folks!
It's been a while since I've written a meaningful post, so this one is well overdue. Currently, I am finishing up my FIFTH MONTH in Ghana! I can hardly believe it, actually. The other day another volunteer characterized time in Ghana by saying, "the days drag but the weeks fly." It seems like a strange way to describe time passing, but it couldn't be more true for my experience at my site. Some days I wake up, exercise, eat breakfast, do laundry, visit the office, play games with friends, and come home to find that it's only 11am and I have the whole day ahead of me. Yet the weeks seem to be flying past me at an alarming rate, and I'm sure the time will only go by faster as the holidays approach and traveling begins to pick up. The past few weeks have been busy, with weekly District Assembly meetings, event planning at the ITFC office, and trips to town for event-planning meetings with a few of my fellow volunteers. Later today, two other volunteers and I are going to start writing the proposal for a grant for a football camp in the middle of December. We're hoping to bring in around 80 children to a local secondary school for a 3-day camp in which we will do football (soccer) drills in the mornings and teach health lessons in the afternoons. It will be a co-ed camp and it will be free to the participants, who are being chosen by field assistants for ITFC who work in the surrounding villages. This grant will be under my name, so it is officially my first big project, and I could not be more excited! Having the opportunity to work on these types of projects is amazing, and certainly makes the work that I do here is fufilling and fun! Productivity came to a halting grind on Tuesday afternoon, as I came down with some sort of illness that left me basically in bed until Friday morning. I ate some local food before the menacing sickness descended, so it was probably something caused by eating chop that was not properly heated. Whatever it was, it left me pretty ill and I had trouble keeping down food or even moving from my spot in bed for a couple of days. It sounds bad now that I write this, but sickness here is just... different. Having stomach problems here is something you just learn to live with, nearly every cut or scratch gets infected, and getting a fever seems to be par for the course. You just learn to tough it out, and things tend to pass over time, which is exactly what happened this week. I'm happy to report that I'm in tip-top shape today and hope to remain that way until at least... tomorrow :)

I was talking to one of my friends the other day, and we had a pretty interesting conversation that I thought I would share with you. This particular friend is the headmaster of the primary school in Gushie and his name is Razak. He's 33 years old, married to one wife, and has two children. He's Muslim, as are about 95% of the villagers in Gushie, if not more than that (though Razak doesn't live in Gushie, he lives right outside our village in a slightly larger community with electricity-Can't blame him!) The fact that he is in his 30s, has only one wife, and plans on having only one wife for the rest of his life makes him an anomaly in our area. In general, most older men in my village have more than one wife and have A LOT of children. This is what Razak and I talked about the other day-the differences between families in Northern Ghana, particularly Gushie, and the US (at least what I'm used to in West Michigan). When I explained to him that it was not only uncommon to have more than one wife where I'm from, but also illegal, he was very surprised. It's a very common practice among Muslims in the Northern Region where I live, and as I understand it, the practice is an accepted part of practicing Islam as long as a man can love and provide for his wives equally. I know many Muslims here, like Razak, who believe that it is impossible to love and provide equally for more than one wife at a time, so they keep one wife, but plenty of other men in my community have large compounds with two or more wives. According to this practice, however, most of the men in my community have a maximum of no more than 3 or 4 wives at a time. So basically, an average man in Gushie has around 3 wives and each wife has several chidlren. The women begin bearing children at a young age and continue having children fairly late in life, so some women in my village easily have ten or more children. Combine that with the fact that families live in compounds, in which all of the wives live in separate rooms (generally with their children) connected by one common eating area...

I'm going to stop this post now and continue talking about families the next time I get internet access. I have to write my football camp proposal, so I have to devote the rest of my internet time to that! I'll hopefully get back to the internet this week and finish on this topic!

Why, mice, why?!?

When I first moved into my house, I was amused by what I thought was a cute furry mouse wandering around, squeaking occasionally. He was like a pocket-sized companion and he didn't really bother me too much. I like to call that time in our relationship the "honeymoon phase." This phase lasted about 4 days, until I realized that this sweet little creature was eating me out of house and home. Seriously, his appetite is uncontrollable. I thought I would just leave him alone until I got a cat, let him enjoy a little more life until he became dinner. But then there were some delays in my receiving a kitten (as in, you can't take kittens home straight from being birthed. They have to grow a bit, unfortunately...) and the mouse apparently became 3 mice who were determined to eat everything they could find, leave droppings in peculiar locations, and keep me up at night with incessant squeaking and scurrying. I still haven't had the heart to use the "killer mouse glue" that Shawn left me, or rather, I don't want to have to dispose of the little guys when they find this glue. Instead, I'm still going to wait until I get my kitten, and in the meantime, I will continue to complain :)

Okay, so my mice musings are all you'll get as a post today. I have a lot of things to accomplish during my internet time today and the pace of life has been pretty slow lately, so I don't have too many good stories that merit me spending valuable internet time on. As a consolation prize, I posted some more picture to Facebook. A few of them actually have me in them, too, so enjoy!

I'd like to thank the BBC world radio for making my house way more exciting...

Whew, it’s been a while since I’ve updated this! As usual, Ghana is treating me very well… The past few weeks have been fun and, at times, very busy. I had the chance to teach my first HIV lesson about 2 weeks ago to some farmers working for ITFC. I rode my bike out to the Dipale farm, about 10 km away from Gushie, at 6am to meet up with the farmers before they started work at 7am. They all gathered around and we talked about modes of transmission of HIV, the effects of the virus, and ways to prevent ourselves from getting HIV. I had them play a small game and I basically just encouraged them to think about the ways that they had personally decided to protect themselves against the virus, and more importantly, shared with them the importance of getting tested. The main reason I went out to the farm for this lesson was to encourage all of the farmers to come out to an event we had this past week, called a VCT event. I helped Shawn put on this VCT event, which stands for Voluntary Counseling and Testing, at the ITFC office, and it turned out to be a really big success. We brought in nurses from Tamale who offered free and confidential testing, and I handed out free condoms and certificates to those who got tested. About 70% of the employees came out to get tested, so I was very pleased with the way that the event turned out!

Besides the preparations for the event last week, I’ve been continuing to work on integrating in the community and meeting people. I still play a lot of cards and since this is harvesting season, I’ve been shelling a lot of ground nuts and eating a lot of yams! We had another festival last week, called the Yam Festival, in which we did exactly what the name of the festival implies and celebrated yams. How exactly does one go about celebrating yams? Well, basically all you have to do is eat yams in every way they could possibly be cooked. I ate fried yams, mashed yams, boiled yams, and Fufu. I ate yams until I couldn’t eat any more yams, at which point my counterpart gave me a bag of uncooked yams to take home and prepare for myself. I love the fact that basically every festival and event I have experienced here so far requires lots of cooking and eating, though I suppose it’s the same way in the United States…

I finally bought a radio a few weeks ago, and it has transformed my life at site! What used to be quiet evenings spent reading by candlelight have become radio-filled evenings spent reading by candlelight! I am more aware of the world news than I ever have been, and I have the BBC to thank for that. I listen to a lot of BBC and their various programs about all sorts of things related to science, health, news, culture, etc... I am beyond thankful for the way that the radio connects me to the outside world and gives me something else to keep me busy with when I'm in my house!
I wish I could write more, but 2 other volunteers are hovering over my shoulder waiting to use the computer, so I must hand over my rights :) I’ll try to get back to the internet as soon as I can!

"You have bicycles in the United States?!?"

The above title is a direct quote from a Ghanaian after I pulled out my new bicycle for a test drive. The guy was SHOCKED that I knew how to ride one, he apparently thought we had no use for them in the US. I guess it's a fair assumption... why would you ride a bike if everyone has cars? :)

I'm in the process of uploading a few more pictures to Facebook right now, so check them out. There are some pics of my new place and just village life in general. 

Also, I've decided to start a "care package list," so if you ever feel so inclined to send me a package (small ones are just a good as big ones!), I will be forever indebted to you! If you really feel ambitious, the Flat-Rate boxes at the post office are a great deal-you can stuff them as full as you want and pay the same price! Also, if you're going to send a package, you better include a letter. I LOVE letters. In fact, don't even bother spending money on a package if you don't feel especially inclined, just send a letter and I'll write you back (I have A LOT of free time. Trust me, I'll write).

Care Package List:
*Salty snacks (Nothing here quite quenches my desire for crunchy, salty foods. Combos and Pringles are wonderful, but don't bother with peanuts-we have them in ABUNDANCE)
 *Almost anything with the moniker "Just add water!" (I've been craving Chinese-style food, Fajitas, or any sort of sauce packets that allow you to add water and veggies and create a dish)
*Magazines (I am dying for news, so newspapers, Time Magazines, etc... are great. I would also love some fashion magazines. I have an excellent tailor in Tamale who can copy things from magazines, so I'm always looking for inspiration since I get a lot of clothes made)
*Cake/brownie box mixes (bring on the sweets!)
*Candy (Skittles, M&Ms, and Starburst are my favorites!)
*Chocolate (doesn't matter if it melts, it will still be delicious. Any kind, any amount. All is welcome.)
*Coloring books (I "babysit" a 4 yr old who lives in my compound quite often and she's quickly running out of pages in the one coloring book I have-I have plenty of crayons, but she needs things to color on!)
*Raisins (not sure if you can send these, but I REALLY want lots of them!)
*Body sprays, perfume, anything to make me smell less like sweat
*BOOKS (I'll take any kind, but I'm currently working my way through some American classics, so those are top priority-John Steinbeck, William Faulkner, Jack London, and Kurt Vonnegut are my current wishes)
*Puzzle books (I love crosswords, Sudoku, and any other type of "puzzle" books-there's a lot of free time at night to kill, so these are great!)
*Pictures (of you, of your family, of your house, of your dog.... It doesn't matter to me, I love getting pictures!)
*Letters (I know I've said this already, but you must include a letter if you send a package!)
*Battery-powered games like yahtzee (now I'm just getting greedy...)
*Popcorn kernels (my mouth is watering at the thought)
*A bread loaf pan (I swear they don't exist in Ghana, and I just want to bake some bread!)

So that is all I can think of right now. I'm sure as soon as I leave here, I'll think of 10 more things, but I'll update this list as my needs change. Of course, anything else that you send will be GREATLY appreciated, but those are some of the things I've been wishing I had!

Crosswords by Candlelight... (Just for you, Jason and Holly)

Hello folks! So, today was a frustrating day to say the least, as I tried to go to the internet cafe for a long-awaited Skype date with the family only to find that the internet was down and unable to load Skype. I appeased my frustration with a FanIce, my favorite "ice cream" treat (which tastes more like frosting, thus the appeal) and a slice of Wagashi, which is the local fried cheese (can you tell I've been missing dairy at site?). Now I'm here at the Peace Corps office after eating a satisfying meal of an American-style chicken sandwich and french fries. I mean, if you're going to be in town, you might as well do things with style! :)

Life in the village hasn't changed much since my last post, which is to say that it's still great! The only important piece of news is that the chief finally gave me a local Dagomba name, which people will call me from this point forward. The name is "Mandea" (pronounced Mahn-day-ah) and literally translated, it means "I accept you." I absolutely LOVE the name they chose for me and all that it implies-I think it is a beautiful depiction of my work here and how I hope the community sees me.... As the title of the post suggests, I have indeed been doing crossword puzzles by candelight, as well as plenty of reading and listening to evening prayers, which may sound boring but really is quite nice most of the time. Anyway, I decided that I would devote this post to things that I have observed about both myself and Ghanaians (generally). Now, this is not to be taken as observations about Ghanaian culture as a whole, because I certainly have no authority to speak on that! Rather, these are just some funny and interesting things I've found to be more or less true in my village during my time here so far...

1. Ghanaians love it when us white folks work out.
This statement comes merely from personal observations of Ghanaians' responses to my attempts at exercising, but I have also found it to be true in other volunteers' experiences. For some reason, the people in my village go crazy over the fact that I go for a jog in the morning when I wake up. They wave, they yell, they come over to shake my hand, their smiles are huge and sometimes they even applaud. I'm sure they're just excited that someday I will be a little less squishy and a little more toned like a true Ghanaian (you should see how hard physical labor on the farm affects your body... my goodness), and it only makes me want to work out more when I see their happy faces. The best part about the whole thing, though, is the way they say, "Oh, Mandea, I saw that you were training today. It is so nice that you are training." Yes, the people in my village call my wimpy half-jogging/half-walking attempt at exercising "training," as if I'm preparing for a marathon or something. The men in my compound get very concerned when it rains and I decide to forgo my "training," and they always comment on the fact  that they did not see me go out, which is obviously a strong motivation for me to continue doing it, if only to make the people in my village happy...

2. Ghanaians play cards with passion and flair.
Now, I've done a lot of card playing in my life, but I've never seen people play cards like Ghanaians. No matter where I've visited, the effect of pulling out a deck of cards and playing the ever-so-popular Ghanaian card game called "SPA" makes even the most quiet Ghanaian go wild. There are long, drawn-out reveals, there are cards being slapped on the table left and right, and there is even the occasional shouting match. Actually, come to think of it, I've never seen them play a game of cards without some sort of shouting match. It's absolutely fantastic.

3. Sometimes white people make Ghanaian babies cry.
Some of you have heard about this phenomenon, but I wish to share it here again. Some babies and small children are downright afraid of white people here. Now, it might not help that some mothers tell their children, "Now, if you're naughty, the white girl will take you away to America" and giggle when their children cower in fear and promise to obey, but nevertheless, some children can't seem to handle the fact that our skin is a different color and it just doesn't rub off. There is one baby in particular in my village who is about 10 months old who, when she sees me coming from a distance, is perfectly fine-smiling, even giggling-but as soon as I get close enough to look her in the eyes, it's over. She goes crazy. If I talk to her while I stare at the ground, or a pot of rice, or some distant object, she will be absolutely fine. She actually likes the sound of my voice, I think. But as soon as our eyes meet, her lip starts to quiver in fear and she can't hold it together for more than a few seconds. It really disappointed me at first, because it's going to take a LOT for her to warm up to me, and she's just sooo cute that I want to hold her, but now I'm quite amused by the whole thing. As mothers try to pawn off their screaming children to me and laugh when they run away in fear, I am finding myself laughing along with the women more and more, knowing that someday these babies will gladly jump into my arms (I hope?)

4. My body is clearly adjusting to the weather in Ghana.
This observation comes as a complete surprise to me, and I never would have believed how much I have changed in regards to the weather had it not been for a thermometer that my parents so lovingly sent me in a recent care package. Now, on the days that I walk outside and decide that the wind is too chilly and I need a sweater and a longer skirt, I march back inside, grab that sweater, and take a glance at my thermometer. The other day, after a long African rain (how awesome is it that I can say that?), I went back inside to grab my jacket and looked at the thermometer. Actually, stared at the thermometer and shook it for a while, thinking that maybe I was misreading the thing. You see, it was 84 DEGREES. Yes, you read that correctly, 84. You know, the type of weather that sends Michiganders flocking indoors for the relief of air conditioning. There I was, in a sweater. It felt amazing. I won't even start to think about how I will be feeling when the weather hits the 70s, which I've heard happens.

5. The method in which you get to a destination in Ghana is bound to be more exciting than whatever the destination itself may bring.
If you've ever had the privilege of riding in vehicles in a developing country, you know that it's usually an adventure, no matter how big or small the trip may be. When I spent some time in Honduras earlier this summer, I was amazed at the drivers-swerving in and out of traffic, abiding by no apparent laws of the road. Although Hondurans certainly opened up my eyes to the world of driving outside the United States, they've got nothing on Ghanaians. So what if the road is a two lane highway? You can certainly still pass someone on the road as oncoming traffic speeds directly toward your vehicle, especially if you're passing a motorcycle. I mean, those roads are designed big enough to fit two cars and a bus side by side, right? If you're unlucky enough to ride in a taxi with a speedometer, my only advice is to not look at it. They're going way faster than you'll ever wish you were going, and it only seems to make the rattling parts on the car sound more pronounced. Thankfully though, you will rarely find a vehicle with any sort of device indicating how fast it is going, so no worries there. Once you've caught this cab or tro-tro (think of mix between a mini-bus and a 15 passenger van), you're bound to get a whole cast of characters along for the ride. The top is undoubtedly piled high with baskets, bags, and, of course, the occasional goat enjoying the wind whipping through its fur. The inside of the vehicle will be stuffed with Ghanaians and their belongings, many of them either holding babies on their laps or snoozing on your shoulder (or, if you're lucky, both). They love to greet you and they get very excited when they hear that you speak some of their language, even if it's just a few small words.

So those are just a few of the observations I've made since being here. Of course, there are many more, and I'm sure I'll share some with you in a future post. As always, greetings from Ghana. Nawuuni ni son tuma.

Settling In...

Well, I finally made it! I swore in as an official volunteer on August 12th, marking the end of the first (short) chapter of my life in Peace Corps. It was a bittersweet day, as I was very excited to start my service but also sad that I would be leaving most of the friends I've spent so much time with over the past few months. The ceremony was great (pictures are on Facebook...), and it was an awesome moment when we all took the oath and celebrated our hard work.

After swearing-in, I took the loooong journey up to site with several other new volunteers who were also heading to the North. Once I finally got to my site, I was overwhelmed with nervous energy and, of course, excitement about what's to come. It was strange to set my stuff in this new house with the knowledge that I will be living here for the next two years. Plus, for the first time in my life, I'm living entirely on my own with no roommates, so that's another strange feeling to add into the mix. As I have mentioned before, my house has no electricity, but I do have gravity-drawn water, a luxury that I'm certainly thankful for. For the most part, I have been spending my time unpacking my things and settling in, putting items where I think they belong and trying to make the place feel like home. I have a lot of work left to do, and I'm hoping to buy some paint, rugs, and fabric this week to decorate the place so it doesn't feel so bare.

When I'm not cleaning, organizing, and decorating my place, you can usually find me sitting with the young men at the tiny roadside store across the street from my house or playing with babies in my friend Sanatu's compound. This is what the first three months at site are supposed to be dedicated to, more or less: meeting people in the community, learning Dagbani, and becoming comfortable with my surroundings. Of course I have plenty of ideas for future work, and I'm excited to start some projects, but right now my time is devoted to sitting around with the people of my village and just enjoying life here. It has already been a process of growth for me, as my personality in general makes me want to start projects and keep busy. I can already feel my impatience crumbling, and I'm learning the value of just sitting quietly and living entirely in the moment. I have my frustrating moments, when time feels like it's crawling by or I think my head will explode from all of the Dagbani that everyone is trying to teach me, but for the most part, life here is simple and quite beautiful. I can already tell that Gushie is going to be a great fit for me, and the people have amazed me with their hospitality and openness to a stranger in their community. Even when I'm staring blankly at them as they rattle of sentences that I can't even begin to grasp, there is an incredible amount of patience, and I'm learning the power that laughing at yourself can bring to diffuse awkward situations, which I too often find myself in :)

So that has been my life over the past few weeks, and I am beyond excited to see what the next few months brings as I continue to settle in and get to know my community! As always, I LOVE receiving letters and any sort of mail, so keep it coming! :)

Glowsticks and italian spaghetti...

I don't have too many important updates since my last blog post, besides the fact that I passed my LPI (Language Proficiency Interview) and will finally become a volunteer in a few short days! The language exam went much more smoothly than I thought it would, and I got somewhere in the Intermediate range (we get our official scores tomorrow), so I was very happy about that!

The past week has been crammed with last minute training sessions, tests, and rehearsals for our swearing-in ceremony. At the swearing-in ceremony, we as volunteers do some drumming and dancing, as well as perform short skits in the languages we have been learning. All of our home-stay families, many current Peace Corps volunteers, our trainers, and some local dignitaries will be there, so it should be a fun, celebratory day! My family, along with most of the other home-stay families, bought me fabric and is paying to have a traditional dress sewn for me. The tailor is finishing it tomorrow, so I'm excited to see it! (pictures to come, I'm sure...)

Besides wrapping up training, I have been enjoying my past few weeks with my home-stay and sharing as much as I can with them before I leave. A few nights ago, I opened up a package of glowsticks that I brought from the states because there were several young children playing in my compound and I thought they would enjoy them. Needless to say, the children absolutely LOVED the glowsticks! (though I think my home-stay father might have loved them more...) They ran around with them, absolutely mesmerized by the whole idea of a stick that glows simply by snapping it. My father was giggling and waving one around too, and he said to me, "Oh, Ya, there is no electicity in these. They are fine! I think these sticks will glow forever!" After I explained to him that they would only last a few hours, he stared at his glowstick for a while, and declared, "Then when they go out, we will turn them back on!" All I could do was laugh and revel in the moment. These misunderstandings and innocent comments comprise one of my favorite elements of being here with Peace Corps. Two of the three goals are Peace Corps are cultural education, which means both educating Americans about Ghana and educating Ghanaians about America. These moments of discovery and cultural exchange are not only amusing, but they are also the foundation of the work that we do and what makes us somewhat unique in the world of development. One great example of cultural exchange happened last night and spilled into today. I had asked my home-stay family if I could cook some food for them that I enjoy in the states. They agreed, so last night I prepared Italian Spaghetti with garlic bread. I warned them that they might not like the flavors and the sweetness of the sauce, but they were adamant that they would love whatever I cooked. They did indeed love the garlic bread, and they heartily ate most of the spaghetti with a tiny bit of marinara on the side, saying that they liked the flavors (I believed some of them, but I think they were mostly just trying not to hurt my feelings... ) We had a great time throughout the process, as I taught my sister how to make the sauce and told her about the different flavors that we use in the United States compared to Ghana. I ended up leaving before the spaghetti and sauce was finished, so I told my sister that she could do whatever she wanted with it and I wouldn't feel bad (I figured she would dump the sauce out to the goats). I walked away feeling pleased with the way I had shared a little bit of American culture by teaching them what we eat and having us all sit down together to eat a meal the way we would in the states (this is rarely done in households in Ghana). However, the cultural exchange came full circle when I sat down for my lunch today and discovered that my sister had transformed my marinara sauce into a Ghanaian stew by adding tons of spices and a few pieces of fish. She then served the marinara remix with boiled yams (called ampesi) and proudly presented it to me. "Here," she said, "It has become a dish of Ghana!"

I share these anecdotes with you because I think they perfectly depict the beauty of my experience here in Ghana. Every day I make cultural mistakes: I say the wrong greeting to my neighbor, I accidently grab something with my left hand, or I forget to wrap fabric around my waist and walk outside in my shorts. But it's all part of the experience: making mistakes, teaching each other, and laughing at ourselves until we better understand one another's culture and therefore change, grow, and develop TOGETHER.

Much love to you all!

Almost there...

I hope this blog finds you all doing very well!
I am finally back in the South in Anyinasin with my home-stay family after a long but rewarding time in Gushie for technical training. I learned more about latrines, water pumps, and malaria than I ever thought possible, but it is fascinating work and great to gain some practical experience before I head out to site and have to educate people on my own. We had the opportunity to build a Mozambique-style latrine and a trench latrine, we dug a soak-away pit for water drainage, and taught several health-related lessons. I personally taught a lesson to some food sellers about proper sanitation when preparing and selling street food, an HIV/AIDS lesson to a class of junior high students, a hand-washing lesson to a class of 1st graders (so cute!), and a malaria lesson to a huge group of Ghanaians at a football match set up between Peace Corps volunteers and young boys from a local community (The game was very reminiscent of the Ghana vs. US World Cup game, except we lost by way more points in our game...). Needless to say, I am starting to feel very comfortable with teaching health, which is good because it is going to be a large part of my job when I get to site.
I mentioned earlier in my blog that I had a malaria scare last week, which was a little scary.... I got body aches, a quickly rising fever, chills, and other lovely stomach problems of which I will spare the details... The symptoms came on me fast, and I had been late to take my malaria prophylaxis about a week and a half earlier, which is how long it usually takes for symptoms to manifest. Thank goodness I was in a house with 12 other trainees, 2 of whom are nurses, so they administered an at-home instant malaria test, which came back as negative (we were all thankful). I was started on some antibiotics and I was feeling in tip-top shape the next morning, which was miraculous considering I thought I was at death's door the day before (if that's even close to what malaria feels like, I wouldn't wish it upon anyone...)
My trip wasn't just training and near-malaria experiences; we also got to explore a little of Ghana. One of my favorite days was a trip we took to the Upper East Region to visit a couple of sites and go site-seeing. We went to Paga Crocodile Sanctuary, which is basically a lake in a town called Paga where crocodiles live and come out to play with humans. You see, crocodiles are the totem of this particular area, which basically means they are sacred and therefore protected from being hunted by humans. It is an amazing site to see, because people in the community were just hanging out at the lake, washing their clothes, etc... while crocodiles were chillin' out right beside them. At the crocodile sanctuary, you can pay a small fee to have one of the Ghanaians lure over a VERY large crocodile (and all of its smaller friends) that conveniently parks itself on the shore so that tourists can sit on it. Yes, sit on it. So that's exactly what we did (pictures are on Facebook...). It wasn't actually very scary to hover over the crocodile itself because it looked like it was either asleep or dead at the time. The scary part were the other crocodiles who wanted in on the action and lurked behind the Ghanaian workers. I just kept thinking, "I hope I'm faster than a crocodile, or at least, I hope I'm faster than the other trainees..." Anyway, we all emerged safely and with some great pictures.


Now that technical training is over, we're back at with our home-stay families for a few more weeks as we close out training. There's a general excitement with the thought that we're ALMOST finished with training and ready to settle into our sites. Swearing in will be held on August 12th, just a few short weeks away, so you better believe I'm soaking up these last days of language classes and delicious, home-cooked meals from my home-stay sister. I hope your month of July was as good as mine-I can't believe how fast the weeks are flying by.... Much love from Ghana!