It's a Hard-Knock Life

“Culture shock is the physical and emotional discomfort of being in a foreign country, another culture, an unfamiliar place, or all three. Culture shock occurs when many things in your new environment are familiar – the language, the telephone system, people’s mannerisms, etc. The adjustment to new surroundings can be exciting, stressful, frustrating, amusing, or just plain confusing” -- USAID

Unexpectedly, I am in the throws of a severe case of homesickness. And I don’t necessarily mean that I want to run home to mommy and daddy. It’s more an angst about the unfamiliar. I came across this website which really laid it out nicely. How bad I’m feeling isn’t totally abnormal, which was very comforting to know. The “inspiration for singles” title kinda threw me, but it turned out to actually be a pretty interesting read…..

http://www.inspiration-for-singles.com/homesickness.html

Right now, I’m just not in the best headspace. Sad, lonely, isolated, frustrated. I chose this and almost feel embarrassed to be admitting these feelings because I’ve been traipsing around for months bragging, “I’m going to Africa! I’m moving to Ghana!” blah blah blah. And now look at me. Sigh….I know how I’m feeling is natural and common and part of the gig. So, for any of you out there who want to judge and ridicule me, I ask, have you ever moved across the world, alone, away from everything and everyone you know and love? With that, I say, bear with me. I’m supposed to be strong and independent….I know I can do this. And with that, this depressed girl in Ghana is off to eat some more Pringles.

My current comfort

Workin' for the Man....

“Many of the great achievements of the world were accomplished by tired and discouraged men who kept on working.”

The other day I had a most interesting conversation with my friend, Ameyaw. He is a Ghanaian, 33 years old, has lived here his entire life and has never traveled outside of this nation. Our topic of discussion was work ethic. He is here at the college as a mentee, meaning he is completing his training to become a Twi teacher at the college level. So essentially, he is completing what America refers to as “student teaching”, but at a higher level. While he is teaching his lessons, one of the teachers at the college is supposed to be in the classroom with him to observe, guide, and provide feedback. Unfortunately though, he is often sent to teach lessons and grade papers all on his own without that supervision or guidance that he should be receiving. The teachers who are supposed to be his “mentors” are sometimes sitting in the staff common room chatting and taking advantage of the fact that someone is around to do their work for them. Ameyaw thinks this is wrong, and I totally agree! The same is happening at the demonstration school here on the college campus. Third year students from this training college are completing their version of “student teaching” and should have someone in the classroom with them. However, when I went to this school, I saw the teachers in the staff room, and the student teachers in the classrooms alone, left to fend for themselves. I’ve heard time and time again that the “quality” of teaching is a problem here. Sure, kids are going to schools, but with practices such as this one just described, of course the teachers are not of high-quality because they have not been properly trained. Mentors are chatting and snacking, while teachers-in-training are attempting to learn the craft of teaching with essentially no one to guide them. But with the deeply rooted practice of absolutely respecting and obeying elders, it is difficult for the teachers-in-training that actually care, such as Ameyaw, to approach the subject or come to any sort of resolution.

Ameyaw flat out said that Ghanaians don’t like to work. He went on to say that before Ghana’s independence in 1957, when the British were in control, more work got done, because in his opinion, whites have a stronger work ethic. In addition, he said that at a school with a white person as the principal, the teachers would not be nearly as happy because the work would be more demanding and the principal has higher expectations. Interestingly, he said he believes that this is why Ghana is not developing at a greater rate. I have discussed with him how it’s difficult for me here because in America I am used to working a lot. Sure, the relaxation is nice and the laid-back lifestyle seems fine and dandy, but like Ameyaw expressed, the result is lack of development, and restlessness for me. Sure, Accra (the capital) is developed, but what about the rest of the country? He acknowledged the reason that I am having a hard time is this difference in beliefs about work, and he totally gets it! It was comforting to have a Ghanaian understand my point of view here, and not just label me as the worrisome American.

I'm in the midst of month 2 away from home, and my feelings of homesickness have reached great heights unfortunately. My internet research says that this is normal, or at least according to the random other folks who have blogged online about living abroad. I know that in a few months I will look back on this entry and laugh, because at that point I will have completely settled in and won't ever want to leave! But at this exact moment, I miss my people.

Just Eat It

Check out some of the dishes I get to savor here in the motherland.

Rice porridge with a roll

Kenkey with white beans

Banku with okra strew

Red Red (beans and fried plantains)

Waakye (rice with beans and a stew)

A Purpose

“Purpose is what gives life a meaning.” –Charles H. Perkhurst

Last week, when the confusion about my job here was escalating, my principal was gone traveling. So, I just went with the flow and felt mildly productive with some work I did in the teacher resource center. A short-lived feeling of purpose. After my run-in with the resource center manager who told me very firmly to not speak to the principal about the worries I have with the schedule, I decided that this man was wack and I do in fact need to speak to the principal about this all. After all, it is MY role we are talking about here and MY purpose here. So, I went to the principal and shared my concerns about the schedule and my specific role in regards to this TLM (teaching and learning materials) business. She went on to say how she has only been here for two years and has no experience with IFESH volunteers or what exactly they do. Awesome. (note the sarcasm that accompanies that “Awesome”) Then, she said to wait until the vice principal of academics returns to clarify with him. Well, this vice principal of academics told me last week that I just need to wait and that “the students will come, don’t worry”. When they come, what am I supposed to do? They go to the resource center to make their posters for their class assignments. I don’t think I should be completing assignments for students.

No one seems all that concerned about the fact that I am doing very minimal work and getting paid far more than I need to live. The only set part of my schedule is that every other week, I teach for one hour each day. And the only reason that is happening is because a teacher sacrificed some of her teaching time for me. I am almost absolutely certain that is wrong. My belief was that the purpose of this organization was to place teachers in schools where there is a high need. I can’t help but think about the hundreds of struggling schools throughout Ghana that would immediately have a reason for me to exist. I’m trying people. Really trying to breathe, be patient, and maintain a positive attitude. But I keep going back to the thought that I should have found a job teaching children in a school. I want to be in Africa. That isn’t the problem. I just want to wake up each day and have a reason to get out of bed. Maybe I’m just too American for Africa.

Please and Thank You

“Your true traveler finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty-his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.” – Aldous Huxley

Nearly one month after arrival at my college in Bechem, I am finally settled in to my permanent accommodation. It felt amazing to remove items from my suitcases. Made it feel like I’m actually

stickin’ around for a while. I am sharing a house with an English teacher, Millicent, and her husband, Paul. They have one half of the place, and I get the other half. The kitchen is shared as well as the clothing lines in the back. Though the kitchen isn’t necessarily my favorite room in any house, I finally acquired some cooking materials this past weekend to be able to make myself some meals when needed. I’m still going to take full advantage of the staff common room each morning and afternoon for breakfast and lunch. Restaurants are not easy to come by, especially in small towns such as the one I’m living in. With the cost of food being so low, most people prepare their own meals each day. Africans are the polar opposite of lazy. The cooking, the washing clothes, the carrying goods on heads. It’s tough and not for the faint of heart.

Yesterday evening I was

invited by Madam Lizzy, an English teacher here at the school and some sort of administrator as well, to her bungalow for dinner. A pleasantly mild beef stew with rice, noodles, and fruit juice to drink. This was my first invitation for dinner and it was simply lovely. Though she fed me and fed me and fed me and fed me. I’m not exaggerating people. I ate three times as much as I normally would, because she kept eating and then refilled my plate and I wasn’t sure if saying I was full would be rude or not. I left feeling “very heavy”, which is what some say here in lieu of “I’m full”.

Each day, I am still blown away by the hospitality provided by Ghanaians. Every item I have was moved from my old place to the new place. I didn’t have to lift a finger. Upon arrival in my new house, Millicent immediately informed me that several female students would be glad to take care of washing some of my things. I am repeatedly asked throughout a day if I am ok. Even while eating at Madam Lizzy’s house, I felt like the majority of her attention was devoted to ensuring that I was satisfied and tended to. Sure, she ate too, but her focus was clearly on me. Over the years, in conjunction with my perpetual single status, I have become completely self-sufficient. I rarely ask for help from people and I just get done what needs to get done on my own. Here however, without even asking, concern and generosity is constantly shot in my direction. It’s slightly unsettling, but I more than appreciate it all.

However, one man, who just happens to be the manager of the resource center, seems to care a little less about how I’m doing and a little more about what sorts of tasks I can complete for him. Last Friday he told me, not asked me, to type some random letter for him. Today, again rather than politely asking, he commanded me to go to the resource center and fix the printer. Then, at 3:45pm, when 4 out of the 40-something students that were supposed to come to class showed up, I headed towards the principal’s office to discuss the concerns I have with the schedule and attendance. Again, lovely Mr. E happened to be near the office and firmly insisted that I do not tell the principal about the situation, because he would take care of it. Then he asked me if I was worried and with a snide undertone referenced my being American, as if that has anything to do with the fact that the schedule I have been given sucks. Call me crazy, but I am a proud member of the “please” and “thank you” club. However, the expectation here is that younger people do as their elders say without question, without pleases or thank yous. I was sitting outside with the teacher I’m sharing a house with, and we just remained seated while this woman commanded several girls to wash, sweep the floor, fetch a table. Then, one was reprimanded for not greeting me when she arrived. I get that it’s a cultural thing, but I don’t like it. It just feels wrong to sit there and have these young girls fawn over my needs, when I am perfectly capable of doing it all myself.

Finished another 4am jog/walk with the Matron this morning. The P.E. teacher and the Peace Corps volunteer, Sam joined as well. He is training with the soccer team, and the P.E. teacher’s expectation is that they run every morning! These people aren’t playin’ around. Especially when it comes to soccer.

Goal!

“Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, everyday, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.” – Christopher Morley

I have completely and totally fallen in love, all over again, with reading. I’m finding myself immersed in books for hours at a time. Not having television is turning out to be quite blissful actually. Currently enthralled with Memoirs of a Geisha. Now, hopefully, I am able to instill this same level of enthusiasm in at least one student here in Ghana.

Fresher Games yesterday and today here at the college, which are comprised of soccer and volleyball competitions between the different houses. The students here are d

ivided into dormitories, and then each dormitory is its own team. Red, Blue, Yellow, and Green. The comradery among teammates is so inspiring to watch, and these gentlemen are stud athletes. I’m talking Olympic-style volleyball matches and super intense soccer games. Though the competition level is exceptionally high, so is the level of respect for teammates and opponents. To prepare for competition, each group of students marched around the field in military formation chanting and pumping themselves up. When victory occurred, the team was in an uproar, hoisting fellow teammates up and running around with their hands in the air. It felt like I just watched a World Cup soccer match – so much fun. While watching the games, I looked out over the horizon as the dark storm clouds passed over and thought to myself how awesome it is that I am in Africa. When I’m 80, I am going to look back on this time in my life and be so glad that I decided to do this. Yes, it’s tough, but I know that ultimately this experience will absolutely enrich my life.

This past Thursday I visited a local secondary school with my friend Ameyaw. Very nice facilities, but massive amounts of students, and due to a delay in the placement system, the first year students have yet to even arrive! The staff common room was full of teachers grading assignments. Each student has a notebook to complete assignments in, and a teacher will collect all of the notebooks from his/her students to grade each week. I was introduced to Ameyaw’s friend Kwame who is a science teacher there. He teaches 10 classes each week with approximately 50 students in each class, which makes for 500 assignments to review! That is completely insane. And unfortunately, few of the students are female. Even here at the college, there are also fewer female students than male. It seems that as the level of education gets higher, the number of females who persist goes down. I was told this is a concern of the Ministry of Education, but that some families simply do not make it a priority to fund their daughter’s education. Along these lines, I find myself immersed in a male-dominated world. Though there are female teachers here at the college, I rarely see them in the staff common room. The discomfort from the stares has subsided and I feel more at ease around the staff. However, I do miss having a good girlfriend nearby to chat and hang with. Luckily, as Mr. Enchill told me, “You Americans are all about technology!” He is the man in charge of the resource center where I work part of the time, and he likes to speak to me in a rather aggressive tone, but I’m not sitting back and taking it from him any more! I’m giving it right back to him right along with a side of sarcasm. ☺

So Saturday morning at 4am I have a date with the P.E. teacher and the Matron here at the college to go jogging. I am going to start doing this several times a week. It’s damn early, but I usually hear a rooster around that time anyways. I’m excited about getting out and about with some locals.

Goodbye crazy Libyan dictator! Hooray!

Hot Stuff

"Life is a message – listen to it. Life is a belief – trust it. Life is a gift – accept it. Life is love – think about it. Life is an adventure – dare it." Northern Sotho proverb from South Africa

I find myself referencing the weather a lot. As if everyone doesn’t already know it’s hot. I doubt they need me reminding them. However, I find myself unbearably hot at around 3pm. I can’t be outside then. In the morning, it’s crisp with a nice breeze, but come the late afternoon, BAM! Blazing sun scorching my pasty white skin. Lunch today was hot! Spicy hot! That only added to the heat build-up within me. My weather chat is largely to do with my discomfort with the language and lack of topics to cover with strangers in addition to my personal problem with being ok with some silence. J With most people, it goes from “Hello” to “How are you doing?” to silence in about a minute.

Slowly and surely though, I am making some acquaintances. I talk to the P.E. teacher about exercise, the Twi teacher about how to speak Twi, and my friend Richard about everyday living. Richard is my go-to man. He has shown me town, given me a pot to cook with, and has enlightened me about certain people and ways of doing things. He is a lovely man in his 50s, but I’m anticipating finding out that he is actually much older than that. Judging age is difficult here. Everyone appears so much younger than they really are. Apparently the same is true of me. An administrator told me today that I looked like I was 18 years old. Generally, I appreciate hearing that I appear younger than I actually am. But 18? Come on man.

So I’m here and I’m doing it, but still can’t help but think that I would be so much more useful somewhere else. Every other week, I teach a “reading” class to first year students. However, several teachers have told me that the students don’t get in to the methodology until second year. Well, I don’t need to teach these college students how to read, so I’m just going to bombard them with all the strategies I can think of and hope that at least one person will utilize something I share with them. Each week I teach this “TLM” (teaching and learning materials) class. Today’s class was supposed to have 40 students, and 12 students showed up. This was the random course that they just threw on the schedule to give me something to do, and it doesn’t seem as though anyone is taking it very seriously. Which, honestly, I might not either if as a college student I knew that there was no grade or evaluation attached to the class. Sure, as teachers we hope that students will simply be intrinsically motivated and want to learn just for the simple joy of learning, but in reality, students are generally motivated by grades. Now that I am here, I will try my best to contribute as much as possible. The first week was rough, but I’ve shifted my mindset a bit and am just going with the flow. But ultimately, I think this program needs to more carefully evaluate the locations they are sending their volunteers to and ensure that a place in high-need is getting serviced.

Being here is making me miss having my own classroom. Crazy, I know, considering most of the time I didn’t seem to enjoy teaching. But ultimately, I have always loved the teaching. Seeing kids excited about books and writing poems was a truly wonderful feeling that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Corny, yes, but true! However, the behavior management is what always frustrated me tears. Now though, with years of experience under my belt, I feel more prepared than ever. I definitely do not want to teach in a self-contained classroom again, but I would love love love to teach reading and writing and help shape some young minds. Even if only a few.

Doxycycline Hell

While here in Ghana, I must take an anti-malarial pill. I was prescribed Doxycyclin and was warned primarily about two major side effects: increased sensitivity to the sun and yeast infections. Luckily, I have not experienced either of those. However, I am suffering from the other side effects that NO ONE bothered to mention including chest pain and nausea. So, according to my internet research, what I thought was indigestion is this terribly uncomfortable pain in my chest which turns out to be a side effect of this lovely little blue pill that I get to swallow each day. Joy.

This is my new favorite website:

http://www.ehow.com/how_2165217_avoid-doxycycline-side-effects.html

Something New

A man practices the art of adventure when he breaks the chain of routine and renews his life through reading new books, traveling to new places, making new friends, taking up new hobbies and adopting new viewpoints. -- Wilfred Peterson

I had the most lovely Saturday traveling to a new city, Sunyani, with a new friend, Ameyaw (O-may-ow).

Sunyani is about 40 minutes northwest of Bechem. A 2GH taxi ride and we were there! Taxi drivers aren’t messing around here. 80+mph isn’t uncommon. I just made sure to hold on tight and enjoy the scenery, trying to keep my mind off of the potential for death by speed. Upon arrival, a quick stop at the bank and a bookshop. Sunyani is a much calmer version of Kumasi. All of the same items can be found here, but without the overwhelming crowds and insanely crowded streets. Large chicken coops are found along the streets filled to the brim. You can purchase a live chicken to take home with you for dinner!

First, we stopped at the Eusbett hotel for a drink, where in the nice refreshing pool there was a statue of a little boy urinating. ?? Not entirely sure I understand the symbolism of that, except just to get a chuckle out of everyone. Afterwards, we had lunch at a restaurant where soccer was the main attraction and everyone’s attention was directed at the television. This is serious business! Apparently, people have a team and they stick by it. Ameyaw was very kind and checked to be sure that I was comfortable there, which I’m guessing he asked because I was the only white person in the room. It was all good. Considering the soccer game, I wasn’t of much interest. Just fine by me! Following lunch, we ventured outside of Sunyani for a nice visit to Ameyaw’s aunt. The quiet of the smaller communities is nice. Neighbors cross over into each other’s yards with ease, everyone greets everyone, and the loudest sounds you hear are that of the chickens. No traffic or loudspeakers announcing what beliefs you should have, which is exactly what you get in larger cities here. Everyone’s yard is it’s own garden. Plantain and paw paw trees, cassava plants, pineapple sprouting from the ground, orange trees, and cocoa yam. All of this right at your fingertips! Simply lovely!

At the end of this most wonderful day, I arrived home and was hit with the most uncomfortable case of indigestion. I never have this problem at home. It feels like something is stuck in my chest and I really want to burp, but I can’t! I didn’t eat anything different or new, so I’m not really sure what is sparking this little dilemma. I hope this Zantac saves me. :/ Strange things happening to my body, especially while I’m over here, makes me nervous…

Throughout the last few days I have picked up a few more Twi words. I’m learning…slowly and surely. Friday, while I was teaching, one of the Twi teachers here at the university came into my class while I was reading aloud a poem. She giggled a bit, which prompted even more giggling from the class. Madam Mary announced that no one could understand me because of the difference in tones and stresses when I am speaking or reading. Yea lady, I get it. But you don’t see me laughing at people here when they speak. I just focus and concentrate and TRY. Most of the students are doing just that, but those few chuckles made for a somewhat humiliating feeling. Though we all speak some of the same English words, the way we pronounce some of them is very different, so it sounds like completely different words. For example, when I say “star”, you hear the sound of the r at the end of the word. However, when a Ghanaian says “star”, it sounds more like “sta”, with no sound of r. Also, the letter t gets enunciated very sharply here. When I say “peanut butter”, it almost sounds more like “budder”, but Ghanaians sound like “butta” with super sharp ts. So, even beyond the Twi challenge like the English challenge! Yippee-do-da-day.

The Joys of Living

“Learn everything you can, anytime you can, from anyone you can - there will always come a time when you will be grateful you did.” – Sarah Caldwell

Life is really all about the lessons, right? I truly believe that everything really does happen for a reason and to teach you something. Even when things hurt or you feel disappointed, through it all, you learn something so there was some value in the experience. Some people and situations just straight up suck, but you have to roll with the punches and keep chuggin’. Heartache or loneliness or frustration hasn’t killed me yet….in fact, all of it has led me to some life-changing experiences and opportunities. I’m sure some of you are questioning the author of this post…yes, this is Amy T. coming at you with a dose of optimism J

Lessons learned so far in Ghana:

1. Chickens are going to cock-a-doodle-do at 4am whether I like it or not. Deal with it.

2. Don’t leave the kettle plugged in while you walk into the other room. The coils burn! Damn, the electricity is powerful here.

3. Clean up every teeny tiny crumb of food laying anywhere in your living space. Ants will attack within minutes.

4. Lizards are more scared of you than you are of them.

5. My name is Abena. Answer to it! Or be prepared to get scolded.

6. The older you are in Ghana, the more difficult it is to find someone to marry. Apparently, I’m an old bag here. Though a fellow teacher has already said he wants me to stay forever and is determined to find me a husband. Ha ha

7. Wait for the stew to come before you dig into the rice! And eat a lot, or everyone will question if you are ok and ask why you aren’t eating more.

8. Be patient. 11am might mean 4pm. Don’t be alarmed.

9. Getting my clothes truly clean is going to be a challenge, but I am determined to improve upon my skills within those buckets!

10. The Ghanaian people truly are some of the friendliest and most helpful people I have ever known.

Road Trip

“Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.” -- Seneca

Stepping back to this past weekend…..when I ventured outside of Bechem to a city about an hour away. I hopped on a trotro for 2.50GH which is equivalent to a little less than two American dollars. Tucked tightly inside with fifteen other passengers, eating some bofru (imagine a glazed donut in the shape of a big warm ball).

Completely insane chaos. I arrived at Kejetia trotro station, exited the trotro, and was surrounded by hundreds of trotros, taxis, and people. I chose a direction, walked, and let out a sigh of relief when the street I was needing happened upon me – Prempreh Road. The city is filled with internet cafes, supermarkets, electronic stores, and banks. All along the street men and women sell anything you can think of: shoes, food, clothing, cell phones, toothpaste, dvds, purses, and too much else to list here. This Kejetia market is one gigantic out of control outdoor mall. Be prepared to bargain! Not my favorite activity, but I’m getting better. Imagine the scene – hundreds of Africans shopping, eating, perusing the goods. From above you would see one tiny little white speckle. Me! Trying to maneuver my way through the crowds with my large plastic bag full of books, dvds, a kettle, and some food. A successful shopping day indeed!

final aspect of the journey was finding a trotro back to Bechem. As noted earlier, the trotro station is overwhelming and very very crowded. I wandered in the general direction of where I was originally dropped off, and with the help of some friendly Ghanaians, found a ride home. You know those clown cars that are stuffed to maximum capacity? That is comparable to the experience of riding in a trotro. Shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, bag on lap, dripping sweat. Ahhh…the joys of traveling through Ghana.

Ready...Set...Teach!

"It is only as we develop others that we permanently succeed." -- Harvey Samuel Firestone

8:30am. Monday morning. First class of the semester for me. 48 students. 1 of which was female.

My assignment was to teach “reading”. Students here already take English, which I believe encompasses grammar, literature, and writing. Since I was essentially given free reign, I created my own plan. Repeatedly, I emphasized the importance of reading aloud to children every day. I was saddened to find out though, that most of the students in this first class did not have that experience themselves. Some said that their teachers never read books to them in school. This was appalling to me. And it is a testament to the disturbingly uneven distribution of resources in the world today. Unfortunately, I imagine that many teachers in Africa simply do not have books to read to their classes, which many of these young people experienced first-hand. Yet in America, classrooms are filled with books that sometimes students and teachers rarely touch. That gets my blood boiling!

After the lesson, I read aloud my favorite poem, Invictus, and everyone’s mind seemed to be engaged. During our discussion, heads were nodding, hands were shooting up in the air, and eyes were constantly glued on me. Reading aloud to students is one of my favorite things about being a teacher. I love capturing the interest of young people with a mesmerizing text by taking them into other worlds and other people’s minds. After my read aloud, the students practiced being the teacher with their own read alouds of poems. This type of student-centered activity was well received. Overall, a successful first class! Later in the afternoon, I taught another class about the development of teaching and learning materials. Class was scheduled to begin at 3:30, but only 8 of the 40-something students had arrived. I began anyways. I want to set an example for timeliness and make it clear that being prompt is important to me. I mean business here people!

I am a teacher. It is my passion. Though at times my role as teacher has made me want to pull my hair out, ultimately, it is who I am. I only wish that with this current position I was getting to do more of it. Unfortunately, I’m not teaching nearly as much as I would have hoped. The students here hold exceptionally high regard for authority figures in their lives and have been nothing but respectful and kind towards me, always. I would love to have this student body while teaching in America. That would make for rewarding and meaningful days at work. With that in mind, I am going to savor every moment of teaching these engaged, enthusiastic, and eager young people, and hope that I can make even the slightest impact.

As the day winded down, I reentered my accommodation to find no running water, again. This has been a regular occurrence. The water flow isn’t very consistent, so at times, I have to resort to buckets. I walked over to the faucet outside of the boy’s dormitory (I’m still in the middle of the boys side of campus waiting for my accommodation to be finished on the girl’s side of campus). As soon as I approached with my bucket, several boys immediately stopped what they were doing and offered to help me. My bucket was filled, placed on top of a young man’s head, and brought to my door. Sweetness J

Livin' and Learnin'

“The darkest thing about Africa has always been our ignorance of it.” – George Kimble

A productive day! I spent the day planning and preparing for the Reading class I will be teaching, which I will only teach every other week, but hey, it’s something. In addition, every week I will be responsible for two classes supporting students with the development of teaching and learning materials. There is still a lot of time that needs to be filled, but I’m working on it. At least some ounce of purpose has been provided for me.

I have the luxury of being provided breakfast and lunch each day in the staff common room. For breakfast today, I had porridge made with millets (type of corn) served with a large, round, sweet roll. Bring your own mug for breakfast or, like me, you’re left standing there looking ridiculous. Lunch was rice made with beans and served with a red stew soaking in fish heads, and hard-boiled eggs on the side. The stew had not arrived yet, so I filled my bowl with rice and began eating. Several men came and said, “wait for the stew!” and looked at me like I was crazy for wanting to eat only rice. Then, another woman questioned why I was using a spoon, because I should be using my fingers. Hey! The men next to me were using spoons too, so I just followed suit. A very informative lunch indeed! De! (Delicious in Twi, yea that’s right, I’m bustin’ out some Twi).

As I was didi (eating in Twi), most of the conversations taking place are in Twi, but whenever I hear, “obruni”, I know they are talking about me, because that word means white person. So I told them that I know they are talking about me when I hear that word since I’m the only whitey there, and that got a few chuckles from the crowd. I was assured that anything being said was not at all negative. Hopefully this is true. Also, when I’m greeted, I am often called Abena, which is my day name since I was born on a Tuesday. Apparently, the day you were born really matters here, and it becomes part of your name. I didn’t have a clue what day I was born on, only the date. So I had to do some internet research in order to have an answer for these Ghanaians questioning me about what day I was born and gasping when I said I didn’t know. Everyone is happy now!

I seem to have made a friend, Ameyaw, who has offered to teach me Twi. He has definitely been the most helpful in terms of slowly pronouncing words and breaking it all down for me. I think I’m also going to attend a class here at the university so I can maybe start to have at least a clue of what is being said when I venture out and about. Regardless of how ridiculous I probably sound, the Ghanaians seem to really appreciate my attempts.

This evening I walked down the road to the school for the deaf to meet a peace corps volunteer working there. She showed me around and we were mauled by masses of children that were completely mesmerized by the new obruni on campus. I even managed to learn some sign language along the way. Kaitlyn did not know any sign language until her arrival in Ghana four months ago, and now she can effectively communicate as an art teacher. Amazing. I was very impressed. My university shares a wall with this school, so Kaitlyn showed me a shortcut through the cassava and plantain farmland. When I arrived back to campus, I encountered a community of college students bustling with activity. Girls washing clothes, sweeping and chilling outside their dorms. A large pack of male students in military formation jogging through campus shouting African chants. The sounds of African drums filling the night air and mosquitoes buzzing by my ears. And to top it all off, when I got in my room, a little lizard was crawling up the wall towards the gaping hole in the corner where the electrical lines are running through. Tomorrow, it’s off to Kumasi! In a trotro!

Cock-a-doodle-do

"I don't know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens." -- E. B. White

Chickens sir, chickens. I know chickens are God’s creatures and I should be saying prayers for their safety and happiness. However, I find absolutely no joy in waking up at 3:30am. Chickens are on my hit list. Beware Mr. Rooster, you just might find yourself on my plate for dinner.

Coming to Terms

“Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.” – Winston Churchill

Yesterday was not my favorite day. I cried, I panicked, I blame the roosters. I woke up this morning with a better attitude, thanks to those friends and family of mine that just happen to be awesome. Namely Bethany listening to me blubber over Skype, Erin and Maggie reading my tales of woe in email, and Mabel and Sonia giving me some phone perspective. And mom and dad! Those people rock.

Today is a new day. At the ripe old age of 32, I have gotten to know myself pretty well. And, it turns out, I am often prone to focusing on the negative and too pessimistic for my own good. No news flash to most of you out there I’m sure. But regardless, I’m working on it. Some flexibility never hurt anyone. The greatest challenge for me is adjusting to the different work ethic. In America, it’s go go go work work work all day long. I was that crazy teacher that showed up at 7am and left the building at 4:30pm with a bag full of work each day. Here, I am experiencing a much more laid-back life, which is essentially the polar opposite of Amy. I really need to zip the lip and sit back and enjoy the relaxation. It will be good for me, despite my efforts to resist. I’ve been told that you can’t change Africa; Africa changes you. I’m in the midst of accepting that notion.

So, with some pushing and shoving, I think I am on the road to developing a solid work plan for my time at this college. My frustration yesterday lied in the fact that no plan was set for me here. I have had to initiate my own job. I’m not a surprise visitor; these people knew I was coming. But, ‘tis life. Seems that my primary responsibility is going to be helping students develop teaching and learning materials focused on reading and showing how reading skills are important in all subject areas. I’ve also been told I may be asked to teach a few sections of English. We shall see where the road takes me.

Today I observed several classes: Education and English. Thirty-forty students in each class. The English class was two classes combined today and there were about fifty students total. Only six of which were female. In each class, the teacher lectured, and the students wrote every word that was told to them. One teacher was reading from a manual, but also facilitating discussion with questions and prompts, while the other teacher essentially did the lesson on her own. I guess it’s similar to American universities, which often includes a lot of lecturing. It is a shame though that teachers here and in America constantly preach about “engagement”, yet so few actually model this in their own teaching practices. Having struggled with managing twenty students, I can only imagine the challenge of managing engagement when you have forty or more students. I’m headed to town this afternoon to pick up some things. I’m bracing for impact! By impact I mean the hundreds of African eyes that will likely gravitate towards my pearly white skin.

Just Breathe

“The strongest have their moments of fatigue” – Friedrich Nietzsche

Every morning at 4am I am woken up by roosters and a few minutes later, college students. What I've been told about my job is not at all what I was anticipating or hoping for and I feel largely disappointed. I am tucked tightly inside of a college campus with essentially no one to talk to. The staff and student body is composed primarily of men who stare more at my body more than my eyes. I am greeted in English and spoken to in English, but shortly thereafter, the conversation evolves into use of the local language and I have absolutely no idea what is being said.

I'm trying really hard right now to remind myself that I can do this.

Dealing with Differences

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness. ~Dalai Lama

I thrive on challenge. Anyone who knows me can attest to this. Both professionally and personally, I am constantly seeking out thrills and new situations that will push me to an edge of some sort. Professionally, this has helped me grow as an educator because I have worked in various schools in various grades and have a plethora of experiences under my belt. As for my personal life, this thrill seeking has left me single. Ha ha Being here in Ghana, at this specific college, in this specific community, is going to provide me enough challenges to last a lifetime.

I am in the minority in so many ways here. First, I am living and working at a Catholic college. I practice no form of religion and generally tend to side with the Dalai Lama – just be kind and be a good person. However, here in Ghana, everything is about Jesus. I have prayed more in the last three days than I have in my entire life combined. Also, I have been told about how important God is, how I need to read the bible, and how worship and belief is the only route to eternal life. Though I have been exposed to Catholicism throughout my life, I have just never truly bought in to it all. I honestly feel that everyone has the right to his or her own beliefs. To each his own I always say. However, it becomes uncomfortable to me when others try to push their beliefs onto me. Earlier today I told someone that I don’t go to church, and he gasped and looked at me as though I were the devil himself! Just call me a heathen! It will be an interesting challenge, to say the least, to quietly try to slide under the Jesus radar and simply nod my head and respectfully engage when asked to.

Apart from religion, I am one of two white females currently living in this community of about 5,000 people. There are two male volunteers here at my college, one American, one Japanese, and also a female Peace Corps volunteer at the school for the deaf down the road. Being one of few persons of a different race is a brand new experience for me. Additionally, I don’t speak the local language. Though English is Ghana’s official language and is spoken in schools, within the community people speak Twi. All eyes turn towards me wherever I have gone, and I can’t say I love all of that attention. I’m generally more interested in going unnoticed. Forget that thought here! You love challenges Amy, well here are several specially prepared just for you. Children are mesmerized by my white skin and smile with intense curiosity. Most men and women greet me and kindly say hello, but a few men here and there gawk at me like I’m a pork chop for their pleasure. In Chicago, I always felt like a teeny tiny minnow in a really huge pond because there are so many strangers among you. It’s easy to walk down the street and have absolutely no one even glance in your direction. However, here, I feel like the large whale in the pond that everyone is stopping to check out because it’s just impossible to miss. Thankfully though, I feel very looked after. Richard, one of the administrators at the college, showed me around town this morning and again reassured me of how important my safety is to them. I’m being well taken care of, but that slight twinge of anxiety is still festering inside of me. Simply walking out of my apartment here is a challenge loaded with thrills, so looks like I’ve gotten what I asked for!