Mamee.

I've had this picture of Mamee on my laptop's background for about a week now.

Her eyes are piercing, yet inviting. The words "I am fine," spoken ever so softly are under her tongue, and she is urging me to come back. Her gentle spirit encompasses everything a little girl should be. I miss her.

Fundraiser Deux

Hello again...it's been a while.  As some of you may know, I am planning on returning to Ghana late next summer, armed with a small team of people who want to help. I have an education student interested as well as a pre-med student. I was hoping so have at least one person from both of those fields so that those kids can get medical check-ups as well as help with their homework. This week I received a check for $500 and another donation worth $300. That brings me to $800...not a bad start! 

I have a lot of ideas floating around in my head about what fundraisers I would like to do around Johnson City. Benefit concert, pancake breakfast, bake sale, etc...

A flight to Ghana costs somewhere around $2,000. We still have a long way to go.

If anyone has any ideas, please let me know! 

An update from Peace and Love Orphanage.

Just wanted to let everyone know that Madame Sala e-mailed me and said that Blessing is doing great. He had some boils on his head that I was concerned about, but they are gone now. She also said that Kofi came by and installed the last of the fans, and the roofing I purchased has now been installed. No more rain coming through the living room!

Espana!

Holiday in Spain.

Here's the blog about Spain, as promised. We traveled in the southern portion of Spain along the Mediterannean coast to places like Malaga, Riviera del Sol, and Mijas Puerto. From the second I touched down in Spain, I was in love with the country. It's striking natural beauty speckled with man-made architecture was the perfect mix of man-meeting-nature. The weather was hot, but not as humid as Ghana, and the Mediterannean Sea's chilly water reminded me of the mountain water back home. We spent most of our days shopping in Fuengirola and relaxing on the many beautiful beaches. At night, we typically cooked our own meals back in the condo. The most difficult decisions we made all week went something like this: "Red or white wine?", "This beach or that beach?", "Ice cream now or later?" It was simply amazing, to put it in small words. If anyone ever gets the opportunity to go to Spain, I highly recommend it. Thanks, once again, to my parents for letting us use their timeshare. It was the perfect vacation after spending 4 months in West Africa and I know that none of us will ever forget it!

My first night in Spain was spent trying to find the resort where my parents had the timeshare. I should probably add that the only Spanish I know is "toilet" and "In the name of Jesus Christ" (Belize mission trip in high school). I am the queen of being ill-prepared when I visit unfamiliar places, and my arrival in Spain was a perfect testimony of that. It was 1 a.m. when I wandered out of the airport. "Riviera?" I said to a taxi driver. He took me to a place called the Riviera Hotel. Not the correct Riviera. I stood outside, less 25 euros, clutching my suit case, and wondering where in the world I was. Thankfully the man working inside this hotel spoke a little English. He informed me that I was still 35 kilometers away from Riviera del Sol. He also informed me that all the hostels in the area were booked. He called a nearby hotel and booked me for one night at the rate of 38 euros. It was more money than I wanted to spend, but still not a bad price for a bed and a shower. I had to climb up a steep hill, lugging along my heavy suitcase, in the middle of the night. I finally made it to the hotel and had to wait several minutes for them to find someone who spoke English. I got the key to my room and stumbled in around 2:30 a.m. I hadn't had a hot shower in 4 months so that was my first order of business. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the water. The shower head shot off the hook and swung around like a pressure washer. I honest-to-goodness could have cleaned my mom's driveway with that shower head. Needless to say, I ended up holding the shower head above my head while I showered. At least it was hot water. The next morning I spent another 38 euros getting to Riviera del Sol.

Katie and Ali didn't get to Spain for a couple of days so I spent my alone time watching old black and white movies in my underwear, drinking milk straight out of the carton. Glamorous, I know. Spain was fantastic. Some journal entries for your perusal:

June 14, 2008

Riviera del Sol

I'm finally at the correct Riviera, sitting on my personal porch watching the pinks and yellows fade behind the Spanish hills. Those beautiful, skinny (Italian looking) evergreens mingled with picturesque palm trees are outlining the horizon. White stucco homes with tiled roofs are speckled thickly up the darker-growing hills. This is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. Solitude is a marvelous thing every now and again. I think I'll add this moment to my box of memories that I can pull out when life gets in the way. The darker clouds are winning now, but they're unaware of what the sun has in store. The sun will always win in the end, like justice and other noble things I wouldn't know a lot about. I feel so priviledged to be able to experience something as wonderful as these last few months.

Madame Sala's Appreciation letter

The following is an e-mail I received from Madame Sala thanking everyone for contributing to my fundraiser. I have a couple hours of video footage and Travis and I will be working on editing it for the next fundraiser. You can really see the children's personalities in these videos. I'm hoping to make a few dvd's so if anyone is interested in me sending them a copy, just let me know. I'll post a blog once we have the videos completed.

APPRECIATION
Tuesday, June 17, 2008 8:14 AM
From: "SALAMATU ABDUL-RAHAMAN"
To: 0vermyhead333@yahoo.com

Hi kim,am sorry i couldn't meet you to say good byr to you,thank you so much for what you have done for us, On behalf of the directoress,the mothers,the entire children of peace and love orphanage,me myself, i say a very big thanks to you,atleast the love that you showed us tell the person you are we really appreciate what you done for us,atleast now we have living room,for the kids whereby they can sit and do so many things thaks so much.

we hope to see you again in next summer.God will also bless anyone who contributed some may you live long to continue to bless as any kind, thanks for coming to our aid.
Good bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Home at last.

I'm sitting in my brother's kitchen listening to my one-year-old nephew grunt as he waddles around the living room, passy in mouth. My feet are cold. I still haven't adjusted to air conditioning. We drove down to Florida yesterday and everyone gasped when we rolled down the windows and felt the humid air. "Does this remind you of Africa?" they asked. Not quite.

My trip home took a little longer than I was anticipating. I wrote down a basic timeline in my notebook when I was on the flight home from Chicago. This is taken straight from my journal:

June 23, 2008 Chicago, Illinois.

Some people try to make it around the world in 80 days. I did it in 3.

Timeline:

June 21st
7 a.m.
~Woke up in Riviera del Sol and took a bus to Fuengirola. From there got a train to Malaga.
1:45 p.m.
~Flew from Malaga to Madrid to London.
5:50 p.m.
~Arrive in London
8 p.m.
~Was told that I was mysteriously erased from my flight to Knoxville.
June 22nd
2 a.m.
~Find out that they were full of it.
11:40 a.m.
~Flight to Chicago boards, but we still sit on the runway for an hour.
3 p.m.
~Arrive in Chicago and wait 20 minutes for my luggage.
4:20 p.m.
~My flight for Knoxville takes off.
4:21 p.m.
~I arrive at the gate.
7:40 p.m.
~When the next flight to Knoxville leaves.
6 p.m.
~Find out that the 7:40 flight is cancelled due to inclement weather.
6:10 p.m.
~I was told I couldn't leave until 4:35 on June 23rd.
7 p.m.
~I arrived at the hotel Mom booked me in. They said I wasn't booked there.
8 p.m.
~I arrived at a different Doubletree hotel 25 minutes away. Not booked there either. Call the 1st place and find out I was right the 1st time.
8:10 p.m.
~Pay a taxi driver $23 to take me there because the hotel shuttle wasn't driving anymore.
9:00 p.m.
~Finally get to my room. First bed since the night of June 20th. Also my first shower...
June 23rd
8 a.m.
~Woke up and took the shuttle to the airport.
11:50
~My flight to Knoxville finally takes off after 5 gate changes.

It's been an eventful weekend full of more illness and tears and waiting than I would have liked. I should probably add that I came down with some strange illness in London and spent a good portion of the night getting sick in the "loo". Ended up meeting some pretty interesting characters during my 18 hour layover though. Got about an hour of sleep on the floor of the terminal. Had a cup of coffee at 3 a.m. (1st Starbucks in 4 months!) with a man from Peru and a guy from Uganda. Had a guy in Chicago ask me if I knew about Murphy's Law. Told him I know more about Murphy's Law than Murphy himself. Not much else to say.

P.S. Feels good to be in America.

Later:

I stopped counting gate changes. It's somewhere between 4-5. I'm laughing at this point and feel like I should appologize to my fellow Knoxville passengers. My presence on this flight is certainly the source of these gate changes. My fellow passengers are a comforting sight I should add. Orange and white and fat with Southern accents and smiles. 17 A. That's my seat number on this puddle jumper. I'm laughing again at my luck, or lack thereof. There are 18 rows on this plane, you see. I'm always sitting in the back.I'm thinking about changing my name to Murphy.

I'm en route at last. Below me to the left, the Chicago skyline rises imposingly beneath the scattered clouds that resemble floating cotton. Not like cotton balls--they're more like the cotton still found attached to its stem, only whiter. Suburban blocks in neat little rows cover the smaller-growing landscape.

February 11th-June23rd. That's a short period of time to experience so much and change so much. Have I changed through this experience or merely gained a handful of stories beginning with "When I was in Africa..."? I say Africa instead of Ghana because no one knows where Ghana is. I believe that I have indeed changed. I also believe that I won't realize the extent of my transformation until I've safely made my journey back into American society and culture. I've gained patience through this experience, and self-reliance. I feel like there are very few situations in which I could not safely extricate myself. I've learned to be quick on my feet, as well as quick on my tongue. Kindness, I've also learned, is a more effective weapon than anger. This lesson was learned by doing the exact opposite and comparing results. Angry words take more breaths, and opposed to popular belief, are not as relieving to release. Smiling in the face of adversity goes much further, especially if you can learn to smile on the inside too. I've learned that the best things in life are not only worth waiting for, but are much more appreciated once they are received. i've learned that walking slower is not only less exhausting, but it allows you to witness the things everyone else is missing in their hurry. So here I am now--20 years old and walking slower with my head swiveling around in an effort to see it all...and increasingly irritated that I know I never can. There are too many places for one person to see in a lifetime. I will see all I can though and probably die young of some absurd food-born illness in a place more rustic than romantic.That's a fine way to go though...

So here I am. I went to Africa to find myself and realized that I already knew who that was before I left. I am an ever-changing nomad with a terrible sense of direction and a habit of being ill-prepared for all my inevitable adventures.

And right now I'm happily descending on Knoxville, TN.

I'll post another blog later with more details about my Spain trip.

Heathrow

It's the middle of the night in Heathrow. Suffered another bout of food-poisoning earlier. Have met some very interesting people. One from Uganda, one from Peru and two from Spain. Might as well make some friends while I'm stuck in Heathrow for 18 hours.

me no speaky espanola!

Made it to Spain. I´ll write more later because the internet cafe´s here are expensive. It´s very beautiful and I´m already having a wonderful time just chilling in the hotel room. Had a hot shower and a ham sandwich with a glass of milk today. Doesn´t get much better than that. Next time I´ll bring a Spanish dictionary though. Had a hard time explaining where I needed to go to the taxi drivers last night. Unfortunately ¨toilet¨and ¨thank you¨ aren´t necessary in a conversation with a cabby. Stayed the night in a crappy hotel that I paid 38 euros to sleep in. Oh well, I´m at the resort now(thanks to my parents and their timeshare that they are letting me use!) and loving it! Be home in 8 days!

goodbye.

My last official day in Ghana. Stayed up all night hugging the porcelain god. How is it that I make it 4 months without any illness and then on my last night here I get food poisoning. Lovely. Let's hope I'm not sick the whole way to London. Will touch base in Spain once I find an internet cafe.

Au revoir Afrique!

*I know my mom is going to correct me on my French here.

Go and come.

I was planning on uploading tons of pictures from my last day at the orphanage, but the internet has decided not to work in my favor. I'll be sure to post a lot more pictures once I arrive home [in 11 days!!].

Well, today was my last full day in Ghana. I will be flying out tomorrow night at 10:30. I started out my day by eating breakfast downstairs in ISH, just like every other day. I always order a bread roll, baked beans, and a pancake (which is nothing like a real pancake by the way). Every morning they always have to ask me at least twice what I ordered because they never write anything down. Today I mixed it up and left out the pancake. They didn't ask me what I wanted a second time. I got a pancake too.

I took it easy for most of the day and finished the last of my packing. At around 3 p.m. I left for the orphanage. I hadn't been walking long before this Ghanaian man walked up alongside of me.

-What's up?

-Nothing.

-You from 'merica?

-Yes.

-I like to go to 'merica someday. You make that possible?

-Yes, I think I can arrange that. Why don't we just get married real quick and then I'll get you a visa.

*mumbling things I can't understand*

-Where are you going?

-Madina (a lie)

-Did you know I stay in Madina?

-How would I know that? I don't even know your name.

-Kojo. What are you called?

-*thinking* Becky (not the most glamorous name I could come up with)

-Who gave you that name?

-I probably shouldn't tell him that I just gave it to myself. My mother.

-I will escort you to Madina.

-No you won't.

-But yes, I am going there also.

-I would like to go alone.

I finally made it to the orphanage (without an escort, thankfully), and got to hang out with the kids for the last time. I handled it a lot better than I thought I would. I didn't allow myself many tears. Tears mean closure, and I don't want closure. I want to come back. I need to. So it was Au Revoir, or as the Ghanaians say, "Go and come." I am going, and I will [hopefully] come again. Benjamin, who is an aspiring footballer, got really serious with me for a minute. "Now Kimber," he said. "Don't forget we need footballs and jerseys." I nodded with the most serious face I could muster.

Don't really know what else to say. I will miss those kids like crazy!

Bracing for goodbye.

I'm leaving in 2 days. Tomorrow I will be going to the orphanage for the last time. I'm planning on losing 5 pounds in tears by the time I leave. My journal entry from June 6th pretty much sums up how I feel about a lot of things:

I feel like I need to write. Like if I don't--even the most spectacular moments will slip away from my memory just as quickly as my footsteps that were washed away by the sea. I've left no trace of my existence here. A lonely, introspective walk down the beach has left me pensive and unsociable. I've been thinking about how even if you do your best to make a difference, there will always be those opposed to your efforts and ideals. This opposition should never stop you or even slow you down though. It should instead be transformed into a driving force and a source of ambition.

Prove them wrong.

I walked along the beach and imagined baby dadum wadling alongside of me. Her tiny footsteps just as easily erased by the Atlantic.I thought about how much I will miss her chubby hand in mine, as well as her solemn, yet contented expression. She, however, will not remember me. She won't remember the time I kissed away her tears after she was smacked in the face by a soccer ball. She won't remember how I would walk backwards through the schoolyard, holding onto both of her hands and letting her feel that freedom of walking. No, she'll forgt about me just as quickly as I walk out that large green gate for the last time. I'm not really bothered by this though. I don't need her to remember me, but I need to remember her. I need to remember Blessing Omaboe and how he taught me the fragility of life. he wa abandoned at infancy just like me, and then tossed into a careless world. I, his "next of kin", will be forgotten. He won't remember me feeding him, changing his diapers, or taking him to the hospital countless times. I wonder if anyone will ever inform him of his market birth and soon-after abandonment. It's okay if they don't. He will be orphanage-toughened and handsome, with probably a few more scars than necessary. And I will love him, as his "next of kin", but from afar. I will always think of him as the dependent little baby he is now. I will miss him.

Yesterday I went to the orphanage to pay for the last bit of the tile. The other day, Emily told me that her and Emma (another volunteer) were going to put their money together to finish the tile. The amount of money they needed after they had put all of their avilable money in, was $160. Mom called me the other day to say that I got 2 checks in the mail and they amounted to $160. Crazy how things work out sometimes, huh.

Cassandra, my roommate, came with me to the orphanage yesterday. She picked up Dadum, her personal favorite, and carried the diaper-less little girl with us down the street so that I could purchase more diapers. We bought the diapers and then started walking back when all of a sudden I heard Cassie shriek. I'm not going to go into too much detail here for those of you who have a weak stomach...but I'll let you guess what happened. Cassie handled it like a champ though and surprisingly Dadum is still her favorite. She was walking down the street, holding Dadum out away from her body, and saying, "I am a mommy now, my baby just poo-pooed on me." I couldn't help but laugh and I'm just happy that she was able to laugh about the situation too.

Anyway, I better run. Be home soon! = )

Who said white girls can't dance??

My neighbor, Diana, just poked her head in the door and handed me a beef khebob. "You're supposed to be dancin'," she said, with a little more emphasis on the last syllable of "dancing." I pointed to my monitor at the Word document containing my Creative Writing assignment. She nodded in understanding and then left to go back to her party. I went in there a few minutes ago to check it out. The lights were out except for one lonely candle on her desk. "Roomie!" I heard from across the room. It was Cassandra and she was dancing. She made her way across the room and yelled Obroni over the music. We have this little on-going joke about the Ghanaian men's pick-up lines. I just giggled and responded to her hip movement with a little hip action of my own. She just laughed out loud and then rejoined her dance partner. I retreated to sit on the desk. Another dancer made her way in front of me. She was immaculately dressed and danced like Michael Jackson wishes he could. It was River dance, only something more natural. Every part of her body moved to the music and made me believe that it really is "in their blood." Her dance partner got a little too close for comfort. She shoved him off in that don't-mess-with-me-I'm-Ghanaian kind of way. Then my conservative little pint sized roomie took the main stage. My jaw dropped to the floor as she moved across the peeling linoleum like a billion dollar pop star. A Ghanaian guy approached me. "Kim, why don't you dance," he asked. He knows my name, I thought. I've met so many of her friends it's hard to remember them all though. Cassandra yelled, "Because she is obroni! They dance like this!" She swung her hips off-rhythm without moving her feet, laughing all the while.

She couldn't be more right.

5 days to go.

On Wednesday, I went with some friends to Green Turtle Lodge which is about an 8 hour trotro ride up the Western coast of Ghana. It's just your typical Ghanaian beach resort that has numerous hammocks with my name on it. It was nice to relax and hang out with other exchange students who are all heading their separate ways over the next couple of weeks.

On our first night there, I was sitting at the dinner table when a rather heated debate ensued. One of the people at the table asked me if I feel like I have actually done anything to help the orphanage. I looked confused. He then said that he feels Americans should pull out all foreign aid going to Africa and let them learn some independence. While I agree that "Africa needs to help Africa", as I have said before; I believe that we should not justify our inactivity by saying we are helping the Africans learn independence in order to further their development. I explained to him that Africa became dependent on other nations when they were stripped of their working class during the 17th-19th centuries. Many scholars believe Africa's under-development is largely a result of its tumultuous and economically unsound past. Do I personally think that Africa could ever develop? Yes, I do--but only if they want to. Just because some African countries survive on the most basic neccesities of life does not neccessarily mean that they are not "developed" or "cultured" people. Is it such a bad thing that kids in Africa are not growing up in front of a brain-washing television screen, or clinging for dear life to a game controller, killing people (virtually, of course). The culture is different here, but that does not mean that it's worse than our own. Of course there are things that need improvement...there always are. A Utopian society only exists in the most hopeful, and slightly nieve, persons imagination. The work I've been doing at the Peace and Love orphanage was not aimed at making the children more culturally acceptable. They are perfectly fine the way they are. I have, however, been working toward making their childhoods a little easier on them. I can't change the world, and I'm not trying to. Maybe what I've done in Ghana hasn't been a very tremendous contribution to the betterment of mankind, but at least I know that there are 40 kids in Africa who won't wake up in a pool of sweat and don't have to lounge around on dirty concrete floors.

The morning after I this dinner table debate, I was reading a book by Dave Eggers. It's not exactly a profound philosophical book, but rather a novel I borrowed from a friend to pass the time while at the beach. I smiled, however, when I read these lines: "For every secretary giving her uneaten half-sandwich to a haggard unwashed homeless vet, there is someone to claim that act is only, somehow, making things worse. The inactive must justify their sloth by picking nits with those making an attempt." I will add that I am not calling my dinner table challenger "slothful". I am perhaps calling him slightly ignorant and misinformed.

*Stepping down from my soapbox now*

My favorite part of this weekend was the tiring trip home. We left Green Turtle around 2 p.m. just as we saw dark rainclouds rolling in above us. We began walking down the dirt road toward the nearby village in order to catch a trotro. This road encompassed everything I love about Africa. First off, the road was dirt, which makes for a really fun off-road-ish experience in a vehicle. Secondly, the foliage surrounding the road was painted in the greenest of greens. It reminded me why that is my favorite color. Lastly, the sky hovering above the road was filled with dark gray rain clouds that moved at a faster pace than they do at home. Everything surrounding me was full of life and vibrant colors. On the way to Green Turtle, we were stuffed into a 12-person trotro that was holding 21 people (plus 2 on the roof). We bounced along the pot-hole filled road and braced ourselves for fear of physical injury. As we were walking down the road toward the village, we saw a similar trotro (with 2 people on the roof) speed by us. We waved at the driver and he shouted out the window that he would be back. Five minutes later he fulfilled his promise and returned with an empty van. Austin, Katie, Kindy, and Zach all climbed inside the back of the van, but the mate told me to sit up front. I just hopped up there before realizing that he probably just wanted a closer look at my [5 days unshaved] legs. I'm glad I did sit up there though because it gave me a great view for the trip into Agona Junction. We flew down the bumpy hills like we were on a rollercoaster--the wooden kind, not the steel kind. Then we topped one of the highest hills in the area. I turned around and saw one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in all of Africa (or the U.S. for that matter). The ocean waves crashed against the rocky shore below as dark rain clouds pelted the surrounding mountains creating a grayish-blue curtain over the landscape. Of course the battery in my camera was dead. It wouldn't have been able to do it justice anyway. Overall it was a fantastic send-off from Africa. It left me with enough intrigue to make me want to come back...

...Which is something I'm hoping to do next summer. I'm embarking on a year-long fundraiser as soon as I get home and will hopefully be able to do more "useless" things at Peace and Love Orphanage. This may sound childish, but I'll help Africa if I want to.

I should give him a tour of the rat-infested orphanage. Better yet, I'll let the children show him around.

fish head stew.

I'm guessing it's been an eventful day...considering this is my 3rd blog post. Tonight (after eating pizza), I came into my room where my roommate sat cutting yams. "Eh roomie, you want yam tonight?" she said. I was full, but I always have time for her boiled yams and cabbage stew. So Mavis came over and the 3 of us sat at the desk eating the tasty Ghanaian dish. I felt something crunchy. I figured it was a bone...but when I spit it out I realized that it was round. Cassandra's face lit up like a Christmas tree and she began to laugh histerically...and then Mavis joined in on her laughter. You guessed it...I was chewing on the eyeball of a fish! I must say, it was a lot more crunchy than I had anticipated. I always figured an eyeball would be chewy. I think I can now say that I have had the African experience.

I have chewed on an eyeball.

mmmkay, goodnight.

Return trip perhaps.

I went by the orphanage today. Blessing seems to be doing better and is getting more and more alert every day. He was a little sick earlier today though. Probably because the nurse tends to give him milk that has gone sour in the heat, but other than that...he's doing just fine. I got stranded there in another thunder storm today. The older children were still in school so I just helped out Emily in the kitchen with the little ones, fixing bottles and such. We talked about how many things need to be improved at the orphanage. I had to change Dadum's diaper and I couldn't find any baby wipes. So Emily went in the closet next to the kitchen to get toilet paper. She slowly opened the door and took a long look around before dodging in there and snatching a roll of toilet paper off the shelf. I started laughing and she told me that last time she went in there a huge rat ran out from the closet. I've seen rats there too, as well as cock roaches. These rats are probably the only fat things in Ghana. I'm pretty sure both the rats and the cock roaches are shooting some roids. Fat and ugly.

I'm going to try to come back here next summer, armed with a lot more fundraiser money. I would like to rebuild the kitchen (shack) out back as well as repair the kitchen inside the orphanage. It could use better sealed doors, new cabinets, etc. There are a lot of other things I would like to do to improve their condition, so hopefully this return trip will happen. I am also hoping to get a medical student or two interested in going so that the kids can have check-ups. The hospitals here are not very sanity, practical, or useful. I learned that during the 4-5 trips I took to take care of Blessing. Emily weighed them this week and found that the majority of them were very under-weight and malnourished. She told me that if she asks the house mothers if the children have eaten at night (when she's trying to figure out who still needs to eat)...they never know. The older kids usually end up taking care of the younger ones. It's a miracle [some] of them have made it past infancy. They have big malnourished bellies and I would guess most of them have worms. I entertained the idea of taking some of them to the hospital for check-ups, but there's no way. The hospitals around here almost always make you stay the night, even when it isn't necessary. You're more likely to pick up some sort of illness while at the hospital trying to get better. Anyway, stay posted for more fundraiser information for my trip next year. I will have to raise a rather substantial amount of money to do all of the things I need to do. I may end up having to use some of it to cover my flight. Flights here run anywhere around $2,000 and I doubt I will be able to raise that much with school and all. I'll see what I can do though. Thanks everyone for your support so far!

Africa needs to help Africa

Stephanie and I hanging out in Kwame's shop.

Stephon and I before I left Kokrobite.

This weekend I went back to Kokrobite (for the fourth time) to relax after taking all of my finals. Kokrobite is not very far from Legon. It takes about 1.5-2 hours to get there depending on traffic and the availbility of trotros. I hung out with Stephon again, as always. Before I left, he gave me a drum and would not let me pay him for it. He said I need to learn how to play so when I come back we can play together, haha.

On one of my first weekend trip with ISEP, our program director made a comment that "Africa needs to help Africa." I saw that happen this weekend in Stephon's shop. He was sitting there carving salt and pepper shakers out of calabash when all of these children started pouring in. They stood there like they were waiting for something. He reached behind him and pulled out a bag full of bread and began feeding these children. I asked him if he always feeds them and he nodded and said that sometimes they wake him up in the morning because they are hungry and want some breakfast. These children are obviously very poor and he knows that they might not get a decent meal that day if he doesn't do his part. I think that if there were more people like Stephon on this continent, the African predicament could be greatly reduced and more easily developed.

On Sunday afternoon, I ran into some exchange students I know from Legon. We were walking down the beach to visit a monkey sanctuary in a nearby jungle when we saw some local village fishermen dragging something up the beach. Upon closer observation we found that this "something" was a giant sea turtle that they were going to cook for dinner. There was a rope tied around one of the turtle's legs and they were dragging it on its back. Stephanie, who is a mild vegetarian and definite hippie, ran up to them and started begging them to let it go. She kept on telling them it was an endangered species, a term I'm sure they could not understand. She then told them that she would pay them 10 cedis to let it go. The people were getting angry with her and some of them thought it was hilarious that this tiny little obruni girl was telling them to set their dinner free. One man began taunting the turtle and kicking it. Stephanie, as well as the rest of us, were very upset about all of this. One man told us that the turtle would feed them for a long time. It made me think...where do you draw the line between protecting endangered animals and feeding hungry people. I love animals, and I've always been that way. My mom always catered to my animal-loving desires and helped me nurse a lot of creatures back to health when I was a child. I hate the thought that these beautiful, 100-year-old sea turtles could no longer be around in the next decade. But I think there comes a time when you have to allow these things to happen for the sake of human existance. I don't know if this is the case in Kokrobite, but when I visited Butre I noticed a lot of lights from fishing boats at night. Yow and Keira (the owners of Ghana Spirit in Butre) told me that those lights were coming from Korean fihing boats. Apparently a Korean fishing company signed a contract (probably through bribary) with some Ghanaian governmental figure. This contract allows the Koreans to fish off the coast. The problem is that when the local village fishermen pull in their nets in the morning...they are empty. I don't know if this is a problem in Kokrobite, but it would make sense that they would need to eat this turtle.

Anyway, I will be going by the orphanage later to pay the tiler. If anyone is planning on sending in money to help out with the tiling costs (as I have run short of money), please send the checks to my mom's house as quickly as possible. I will be leaving Ghana in 9 days. : (

525 Timberline Drive

Lenoir City, TN 37772

How To Do It Yourself in Ghana

My book's title: How To Do It Yourself in Ghana.

Last night, I gave myself a hair cut. It's the second such cut I've had since coming to Ghana 4 months ago. My roommate giggled histerically as I sat indian style on the floor, looking into a broken mirror and snipping off uneven sections of my hair. I know my mother is cringing right now. I thought about cutting it really short because I've never had short hair before, but ultimately decided against it. I need to at least be able to put my hair in a pony tail.

Then, today I hand washed my clothes. This is something I haven't done since my first week here. I decided early on that it would be a better idea for me to just take my clothes over to ISH 2 and have Seth (the laundry boy) wash them in the machine. But today, due to a little insufficient money scare, I decided to hand wash my clothes. Once again, Cassandra appeared with a camera, laughing hysterically as I scrubbed filthy socks and wash cloths. I don't know what she'll do in a couple of weeks when she doesn't have a silly obruni around to entertain her...

bucket baths and babies.

I think this bike is too big for me...

Blessing is back at the orphanage!

I went to the orphanage today and got to see baby Blessing. I also met Emily for the first time. She is a 19 year old volunteer from the UK who has spent a great deal of time in Ghana over the last year. Her family is actually in the process of adopting Adom, one of the little boys at Peace and Love. Last time she was in Ghana was about a month ago and it seemed like every time I got to the orphanage, she had just left. So we had heard a lot about each other, but had never actually met. Very sweet girl, wish I would have met her sooner.

Today I purchased floor tiles that will cover the floor in the main living area. This totaled to 440.00. I need to purchase the concrete and mixer tomorrow, as well as pay the mason for the labor. I also purchased tin roofing that will replace the ceiling over the same living area. This totaled to 110.00. There is so much that I want to do here, and clearly not enough time or funding. I'm hoping to be able to come out here next summer with a more substantial amount of money and really be able to do something. I will work my hardest to make this a possibility. So if anyone didn't get to donate money this time, put a little aside for next year. I'm not positive that I will be able to come out here, but I really would like to. I don't want it to sound like the money everyone donated for this fundraiser was not substantial...it definitely was and I have been able to do a lot to improve this orphanage thanks to your generosity and compassion!

Other good news...Emily will be meeting with some sort of adoption agency this week (I'm guessing it is in regards to her family's adopting of Adom), and she will be finding out a lot of information for me on how to adopt. No, I'm not adopting a baby (as much as I would love to!). But there is a student at ETSU who has volunteered to help me make Peace and Love a website. On this website will be all of the information anyone could need in order to adopt a baby from there. The process is very long unfortunately. Even baby Blessing...if someone were to adopt him, it would take 1-2 years for them to be able to bring him home. Emily's family is hoping to have Adom "home" in England by Christmas, but it's looking like that won't happen till January or February. The system is set up to weed out the people who wouldn't make suitable parents. Unfortunately it takes time for this. I'm hoping to find Blessing a home as soon as possible though. He's a beautiful baby boy who does not need to grow up in an orphanage in Africa. Any takers?!?!

Aside from the orphanage project, I've just been studying for finals and hanging out in Legon. I cooked mashed potatoes tonight for my roommate who has never had them before. Mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and sweet tea...doesn't get anymore Southern than that. I will admit that the mashed potatoes weren't exactly delectable, but they were edible and I was pretty excited to eat them. I had to make them with powdered milk and laughing cow. Oh...and the sweet tea was really just a tea bag dropped in a cup filled with room-temperature "pure water" and a couple of sugar cubes. It wasn't that bad though.

My friend Katie (who will be my travel buddy in Europe) was in here a few minutes ago. I was filling the rice cooker with water so that I can take a warm bucket bath. We were laughing at how much our standards have lowered by living here. I was actually excited about warm water. My body has definitely adjusted to the heat. I went to Max Mart in Osu the other day, which is a Lebanese grocery store/coffee shop. I was sitting upstairs in the coffee shop studying and I honest-to-goodness left because they had air conditioning. I was so cold I could not concentrate.

Side note to my mom: Please don't turn the AC in the car on full blast when you pick me up from the airport.

Anyway...now to that bucket bath.

17 days to go...

Blessing it now out of the hospital and doing just fine. His medical bills only amounted to 50 cedis. Not quite like the states huh! I also donated 50 cedis to the Osu Orphanage via Latoya Egbert who has been volunteering there. She said they really needed some things and wasn't able to raise a lot of money back home. I'm meeting up with Madame Sela (I've been spelling her name wrong all along) at the orphanage tomorrow and we will be picking up tile so that we can tile the main living room area. I was going to fix some plumbing in the bathroom, but there is curently another bathroom under construction and once it is built they will not be using the old one anymore. So instead we're going to tile the main living room. Right now it has concrete floors and minimal seating. The children are always sprawled across the dirty concrete as they watch the television. There is another volunteer from the UK who is apparently also working on improving the living conditions at the orphanage, so I'm going to e-mail her and figure out what all she is doing. I will also be purchasing some seal-tight containers to place their food in because the kitchen is infested with large cock roaches and rats. A lot of work...not a lot of time. But I'll get it done. Thanks again to everyone who has donated...it means so much!

As my time in Ghana is quickly coming to a close, I'm having very mixed emotions about leaving. In just 17 short days, I will be boarding a plane for Europe. I'm very excited about coming home and spending time with my family, boyfriend, and friends...but I will be very sad to leave as well. Living in Ghana has opened my eyes to a lot of problems the people here face. My roommate asked me one day if I think Africa will ever develop. There are a lot of theories claiming that so long as Europe and the Americas are prosperous, Africa will not be. My general impression is that Africa could potentially develop, but not without a lot of effort on its own behalf.

Living here has also shown me that the American perception of Africa is very exaggerated and incorrect. Africa is a very large continent with a lot of great people and a vast, wonderful culture. The people here may not all be as wealthy as Europeans or Americans, but this does not make them inferior or even less culturally advanced. As I recently wrote in the East Tennessean, our differences are only skin deep.

Furthermore, I would like to officially announce that I am in the beginning stages of writing a book about my experiences living in Ghana. I am hoping that this book will help raise awareness about the need for volunteers in African orphanages, as well as help to erase the African misconception that most of the developed world believes. If I am able to get this book published, I will be using the proceeds toward traveling back here and building/helping orphanages.

I'm taken.

"Ghana Maybe Time", it's the name we affectionately call Ghana's time zone, GMT. I don't know if I've mentioned it before...but Ghanaians are NEVER in a hurry. We Americans around campus are so easy to spot, not just because of our pale skin and awkward apparel, but because we are always running. I feel like I should pass over a baton to the exchange students I'm running past on my way to class. I'm getting used to waiting on the slower-paced, laid-back Ghanaians. When you order food in a restaurant, you should expect to wait at least 2 hours, if not more. Today I was supposed to take my piano exam. I was told to be there at 9. Then 12:30. Then 2:30. Now 4:30. So in 20 minutes I'm going to walk down to the music department AGAIN and hopefully be able to play my Bach and Chopin pieces in front of a jury.

Earlier (after leaving the music department at 2:30 without having taken my test), I was approached by a Ghanaian guy.

"Hello...hello?" he said as he tried to catch up to me. I was walking like an obruni. I glanced slightly to my left as he introduced himself. He was wearing a very nice blue suit and shiny, polished black shoes.

"Please, are you going to the International Hostel?" he asked. "I'm trying to find the place and I don't know where it is. I'm working for the parliament here in Accra."

Wait, oh--he isn't trying to get my number. I glance up at his face this time, allowing eye-contact, which is rare. Oh no--he is trying to get my number. He has that obnoxious look on his face. I point him the direction of ISH and keep on walking.

"Please madam, I have grown fond of your face so soon," he says.

I laugh. "I want to take you," he says, and by this he means that he wants to marry me, of course. I flash my left-hand ring and tell him that I'm already "taken."

"Ooohh--but that doesn't mean anything," he says. I tell him that it does.

"Ehh, it is not your place to say that. I am proposing to you," he says.

"And I am declining your proposal," I said, still walking at my obruni pace (if not a little faster).

"Ehhh, but I have grown so fond of your face," he says again. At this I have had it, but I'm in a more amused mood than usual and so I decide to continue our conversation further.

I throw my hands into the air..."Do you honest-to-goodness think that this pathetic attempt is going to work?? Do you really think that I'm going to say 'Oh YES...please marry me! Take me home with you right this minute!"

He looks shocked. The Ghanaian men I've met haven't been very good at taking rejection. "But this opportunity doesn't just come along every day, and your fiance isn't right for you," he informs me.

"I will take you."

"No you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"No...you won't."

More childish, sibling-like bickering continued until he ran into one of his friends. My escape route finally. He turns to introduce me...but I'm gone like the wind baby. Hiding in the night market and purchasing some boiled yams and cabbage stew. The cabbage stew had a little sardine surprise in it by the way. It's a good day.

conquering the fish!

I'll be submitting my application to Fear Factor as soon as I get home...don't worry.

no water...no picture

The dorm right next to mine, Jubilee Hall, has had no water for 2 weeks. This morning I was walking back from my piano practice and heard a horrible racket inside Jubilee. There were horns, trumpets, whistles, and people screaming while jumping around inside. Apparently this is how Ghanaians protest. So being the curious, aspiring journalist that I am, I wandered out onto my porch to take a picture of this madness. All of a sudden, this girl looked up and saw me. She pointed up to me and everyone turned their head and started screaming at me. "Hey hey hey you!....[more mumbling in Twi]." I guess it's not a good idea to take a picture of a riot. I immediately deleted the picture because I was afraid the angry men were going to come up to my room and demand to have my camera. They haven't been up here yet.

Blessing is still in the hospital. I went to pick him up yesterday but the nurses needed to see the results from his bloodwork. So we went over to the lab to pick it up, and the lab informed us that they lost his sample. So today Blessing will getting his blood drawn again (poor little guy!). He won't be discharged until Friday.

I'm about to go meet up with some friends at the beach. I'll be bringing my history notes to study. I've got to say, I'm really nervous about this exam. There are no tests and quizzes throughout the semester...just one cumulative exam. The exam will have a few questions for me to choose from, I have to pick 3. I will then have to write a 3 page essay on each topic. That's 9 pages in two hours...and I have to remember all the dates and everything. Needless to say, I can't wait to get back to the American education system.

Oh and we're out of water too now. I found out that would happen early this morning and so I filled a bucket so I can bucket bathe later. Fun stuff.

Baby Unit adventures.

"Baby Unit: Mothers and Father's only." I guess I'll have to do, after all I am listed as "next of kin" on his medical records. Right next to his made-up name and religion. Yes, I said religion. "Christian or Muslim?" the man behind the counter is asking me. I'm standing here holding the tiny 2 week-old baby in my arms. "Can't he decide for himself?" I ask. He looks confused. "Christian or Muslim?" he repeats. The papers say "Christian". This is right before he informs me that he is going to get my phone number off Blessing's information and give me a call. "No you're not," I say. He notices my last name. Foli. It's a common Ghanaian name. "Is your husband Ghanaian?" he asks. I say no. "My husband is Italian." This isn't the first time I've lied about being married.

An hour or so later, Bertha (the orphanage nurse) and I are ushered into a room filled with hospital beds occupied by babies and their mothers. These words: "Attention: The time of collection of all dead bodies must be recorded in the death book" is scribbled on ripped off notebook paper and taped to the wall. Mother's cradle sick children in their arms as they suckle on unabashedly exposed breasts. Sweat is trickling down my forehead. We are now being ushered into yet another room so that the doctor (who is wearing jeans and a t-shirt) can get a blood sample. Maybe this is where my maternal instinct kicks in, I'm not really sure...but I'm light-headed. And this is coming from a girl who can watch open-heart surgery on the discovery channel, while eating dinner. My stomach feels like it is floating in my abdomen and all I can do is hold his tiny little hand in mine as he screams bloody murder. I've never even heard him cry before. The doctor's face remains expressionless, even while Blessing makes cat-like shrieks.

We're in another room now. Blessing is laying in a baby bed, that could easily be mistaken for a shopping cart at wal-mart. "Nikki", says Bertha. She calls me Nikki, even though I have repeatedly told her to call me Kimber, which is what all the kids call me. "You take Blessing home with you to 'Merica," she says, while laughing. It's one of those eye-twinkling, obnoxious village woman laughs. I'm laughing, but secretly I wish I could take him home with me. I would have to give him a different name though. Kids in America would definitely make fun of a kid named Blessing. I think they've given him the middle name, Kofi. That is the default name given to any male child born on Friday. There is a different name for every day of the week. My Ghanaian name is Ifia, "Friday-born." Anyway, Bertha is talking again. "Blessing Foli," then that obnoxious laugh again. I've got to get some fresh air. He needs formula, and this seems like a great task for me. So I wonder outside into the market and find some formula a lot faster than I would have liked. There's the man from the hospital. "I'll call you," he shouts from across the street. I just wave, muttering ugly words under my breath.

It's 6:30. I've now been here all day. Time to go. Blessing will stay the night here tonight. I hope the mosquito's don't get him. I'm going to find out if the hospital will take mosquito nets. If so, then I will bring some by. There are still tons and tons of them piled up in the ISEP office. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who has donated some of them. Bertha says that she will escort me back to Circle. "It's dangerous at night. A cab driver will kill you," she says as she runs her hand across her neck, simulating a knife.

I'm yawning, and still sweating. There is dirt caked on my skin and I'm dreading the cold shower that awaits me. I wouldn't dread it at all if it were still daylight. But the sun has gone down and it's chilly. Keep in mind that my definition of "chilly" has changed drastically over the last three months. I've been counting my cold chills. I'm at 9, and all of those were on the beach. Amazing goose-bumps. Anyway, time for that shower.

My purchases so far.

Before I run out the door to take Blessing to the hospital, I decided to post the prices for the items...as promised. If anyone wants to see the receipts, I've taken pictures of them. I will be happy to e-mail them to any doubtful person.

Cas Enterprise
Madina Old Rd. Market
May 16, 2008
Diapers 15.00
Toffees .80
Baby milk 18.90

Pills and Tabs Pharmacy (Blessing's meds)
May 16, 2008
medicine 10.67

DINPA Business House
Abeka-Accra
May 15, 2008
fan acces. 40.00

Josaampo Enterprise
May 15, 2008
5 fans 145.00

Thy Works Electricals & Trading Ent.
Madina-Accra
May 8, 2008
1 ceiling fan 49.80

Market purchases ( these places did not provide receipts, so I've been keeping my own tally)
Madina May 16, 2008
Baby things for Blessing and the smaller children(small bottles, soap, baby powder, bibs, small clothes, baby wipes, passies) 69.30

I also paid 50.00 to Kofi for installing the fans. It was 10 cedis per fan. There was also a 10 cedis cab fare from Accra. We had to take a cab because we had too many things to take a trotro. I also had to take a cab yesterday from Madina because I had 4 bags of baby things. That cab fare was 3 cedis.

This totals to 420.87.

Blessing

A new baby arrived at the orphanage this week. He is a little under 2 weeks old and was abandoned by his mother in Accra shortly after his birth. The police brought him to Peace and Love earlier in the week. Madame Cella has named him Blessing, and he definitely is. This pint-sized little guy had me running all over the Accra greater region today looking for medicine and pedialyte. He has jaundice and some sort of head infection. I found some medicine but still didn't feel very comfortable leaving him, so I took him to the hospital tonight. He's been doing fine the past few hours, but I still didn't feel good about leaving him. Unfortunately the hospital I went to didn't have the technology needed to help him. The nurse also told me that if I took him to another hospital, they probably wouldn't admit him because I didn't have papers from the orphanage. So tomorrow morning I will be heading out to the correct hospital with Madame Cella in tow. I hope no one is opposed to me using some of the fundraiser money toward his medical bills, if there are any.

Before I went to the orphanage today, I stopped in Madina and purchased a lot of things they need. My friend Grace came with me to help out. I'll post all the prices tomorrow. Too tired to get out all the receipts and add everything up right now. Also, the electrician was there today installing the fans! There are now 2 fans in both of the girls rooms, 1 fan in the nursery, and soon-to-be 2 fans in the boys room! I asked Mameya, an 8 year old girl who lives there, if she was excited about the fans. She nodded her head and smiled from ear-to-ear as she skipped around her room. So thank you everyone who contribuated to the fundraiser!!

I'll update on here tomorrow after I get back from the hospital with Blessing.

thunderstorms and soul food on Sunday.

Today I went to breakfast in Osu with a bunch of friends. After eating a delicious breakfast (that included bacon!), Stephanie, Michelle, and I decided to go back to Legon instead of the grocery store with the rest. We walked around Osu looking for a trotro that was heading toward Legon, but isntead we found an awesome 70's style, straight-up hippy looking trotro that was going to Accra. So we got on, without even knowing where the trotro was headed. It dropped us off at Tema station, and from there we got on the correct trotro to Legon. We walked through the construction field to ISH, sweating bullets under the hot mid-day sun. I walked into my room and immediately shed my sweat-damped clothes and sat down to check my e-mails and call home for Mother's Day. About 20 minutes after I walked through the door, I felt a gust of wind through the window. I looked up and saw that the sky was black. The weather in Africa is so strange...perfectly sunny one minute and then hurricane force winds and rain the next.

In the afternoon, after the storm subsided, our ISEP group went over to the program director, Theresa's, house for dinner. Auntie Theresa, being African-American, cooked us some delicious soul food. We had chicken, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, fish, cabbage something-or-other, and some fish-ball-things. Everyone ate the large mounds of food on their plate like ravenous animals. Delicious. We all gorged ourselves until we thought we would explode. Then she served us cake and ice cream. I think I'm going to fruit fast for a few days to cleanse my body after all of that.

Anyway, that's it for now. = )

Journal entry from Kokrobite

For a change of pace, I decided to post some stuff straight from my personal journal:

Kokrobite, Ghana
May 10th, 2008
Saturday

Big Milly's again, in Kokrobite. Baking in the sun. Three naked children with skin as dark as night are running in and out of the ocean, the water on their backs glistening in the sun. It's about noon time with the sun directly overhead. Spent a good part of the morning in Stephon's shop learning to play the big wooden bass drum. He's a 29 year old Togolese man who moved here 2 years ago. A very patient drum instructor. My sweat is spoiling this page.

Later:
Still baking on the beach. My skin turning more red by the minute, but not burnt. I'd never admit to that. We tried to find out if we could stay another night, but the loft is full and there is only one tent (with holes) left. Not to mention that I only have 5 cedis left. I owe 1.50 to a man I bought jewelry from, and about 2 to get home. There are many annoying men on the beach today. [Don't make eye contact.] Little girls with heavy baskets of fruit on their heads walk by me trying to sell. They have this pigeon strut, gained by much practice at carrying the large baskets on their heads. They move their eyeballs skillfully from side-to-side, scanning the area for thirsty mouths that are craving the sweet juice inside the oranges and pineapples. A man just came over and asked if he could take my picture. I say no. He asks why, unable to take the rejection. I tell him that I don't know him and I don't want him taking my "Piktcha." "Oh, but you are nice," he says. "Go away," responds the born-and-raised New Yorker that has taken over my usual self.

Later:
The boy is slicing open coconuts. I really wish I didn't have to leave here today. There is a wonderful breeze from the ocean, effortlessly lifting my tangled hair into the air. My skin feels warm and crisp (but not burnt). I love when my skin feels this way. I really wish I wasn't out of money. Pasta aubergine sounds amazing right now. Guess I'll have to settle for a beef khebob and "pure water." Stephon is walking up, better sign out.

My patient drum teacher, Stephon, and I. This picture was taken a couple of weeks ago.

Caught in a rainstorm

Money spent so far= 17 cedis, 50 pesewas. (For 8 packages of diapers)

Yesterday at the orphanage, I was planning on leaving before the rain came. But as the winds picked up, I realized there was no way I could make it back to the main road, let alone to Legon, before the rainstorm. It turned out alright though. It gave me some extra time to play with the kids. The children danced and played football in the rain. Their over-heated bodies reveled in the coolness of the water. Naked, worm-pregnant bellies were drenched by the gallon-sized raindrops. I tried to usher them inside, but it was a futile effort. The holes in the noisy tin roof made way for the drip-drip of water to the dirty, cement floor. Mameya and Essie stood below the holes and opened their mouths to quench their dry, swollen tongues with the surely filthy water. Grace, spoiled by the open arms of white volunteers, cried for me to hold her. So did Dadum, the newly-walking baby who has also recently learned how to smile. There is a certain happiness in freedom. I scolded the older boys for their bad language, and wanted to scold the house madams for not disciplining them more. Grace grew fussier and fussier by the minute, and her unhappiness seemed to spread like the bubonic plague. Before long Dadum's smile turned to a frown and Isaac also started crying. Then Rich began his cry fest too. I'm guessing that they never had their nap because they started fighting over who got to sit on my lap. A few minutes later, Adam wandered up to me (which is a rare occurrence) and started whimpering with these puppy dog eyes. I couldn't resist his need for affection, and so I picked him up and rocked him. Within minutes he was fast asleep and so I moved him to one of the bunk beds in the boys room where he remained until I left. The rain finally subsided and I was able to make my way back to Legon. I forgot to bring the kids chewing gum this time, and they definitely remembered. I'll be sure to bring it next time. Well, I better go. I'm in an internet cafe and I only have a couple minutes left until my time runs out!

Sexism in Ghana

This morning at breakfast I was talking to Amanda and Michelle about the cultural differences between American women and Ghanaian women. It is very interesting to live in a place where you are the minority, but it is even more interesting (and challenging) to live as a minority when you are a woman. Even though many Ghanaians deny that women are seen as inferior to men, this is a part of life that Americans (who would know what life is like otherwise) are very aware of. Apparently in the dance department, there are many girls who have been forced to have sex with their dance instructor's. These girls have been warned that if they don't, they will be given a failing grade in the class. What is even more maddening about this, is that evidently everyone knows about this problem and does nothing to stop it. One of the international student's here, who is a dancer, is taking this problem to the head of the International Office. I believe she already took it to the head of the dance department, but apparently he is also one of the offender's. Hopefully Suzi will be able to do something about this serious problem.

Last week, Commonwealth Hall (the men's dormitory) had their Power Night on campus. It's basically a big concert or party outside of their building. Amanda walked up to Commonwealth with a friend and when she got there she was ushered into a section set aside specifically for women. All of the men stood on stage and sang extremely sexually offensive songs directed toward the women sitting on the chairs below. Amanda was shocked and asked the girl sitting next to her why she even came. The girl just giggled and said that the boys were just joking around and it didn't mean anything. Whether or not these men were just joking, their actions were very offensive and should not be tolerated by anyone.

Personally, I've had to deal with some very strange situations with Ghanaian men myself. I juggled around the idea of writing about this on my blog, but since I said that I was going to write about my experiences here as honestly as possible, I guess I should. A couple of weeks ago, I went to the Volta Hall beach party near Kokrobite. Every year, the traditional halls on campus have a beach party that basically the entire school attends. There was live music, food and drinks, as well as football games on the beach. Around 7 or so at night, after the sun went down, I was walking around with my friend Stephanie. Stephanie really needed to use the restroom and so we wandered around everywhere looking for one. When we had no luck, she decided to just take a little "swim" in the ocean to relieve herself. So I walked down to the ocean with her and leaned up against a concrete slab while she went into the water. A Ghanaian guy walked over and sat on the slab right next to me. He started talking and all I heard was "bla bla bla". I've grown rather accustomed to ignoring the men here. After a minute or so of ignoring him, I finally turned around to tell him that I wasn't interested. When I did, I looked down to see his pants unzipped. This man was masterbating right in front of me. I immediately sprung off the wall and started yelling at him. He stood up to walk away and I punched him in the arm. It wasn't a very impressive punch that my brothers would be proud of, but I was afraid he would retaliate if I punched him in the face. Perhaps it wasn't wise of me to even yell at him, but my angriness toward his actions upset me very much and I felt that if I just walked away, I would be doing all of woman-kind an injustice. I felt that I wasn't in any real danger since Stephanie was walking up the beach toward me and there were about 10 or so people within close distance of me who would have definitely heard me scream if he tried to harm me.

I'm not saying that all Ghanaian men are perverted pigs, however. I have met many guys here who are very respectable and caring men. Some of which I'm sure I will maintain contact with for many years to come. I don't think the mindset of Ghanaian men is necessarily any different from American men either. I think they are just more direct and blunt with their requests. My roommate said it isn't too outlandish for a Ghanaian guy to wak up to an obruni and ask for sex. Basically, the guys here have no game whatsoever. Even the harmless ones ask you for your number before asking for your name. I have continuously used the "I don't have a phone" excuse, and it works pretty well. I also always tell them that I have a boyfriend, but that never seems to stop them. "I want to be your friend here," is what they reply. This is one aspect of Ghana that I won't miss when I'm back in America. I can't wait to walk down the street without hearing cat calls and having men grab onto my hand and try to pull me to them as I walk by. "Obruni, I'm trying to talk to you," they say. I think I've developed somewhat of a New York attitude here. I have no tolerance for these pushy men whatsoever.

On a lighter note, I'm about to go into the market in Madina to purchase diapers...then I'm going to the orphanage. I'll be sure to bring my camera with me to take pictures! Our water on campus has been off all day and so I'm hoping it comes back on before I get home tonight. Otherwise I will be a hot, sweaty mess after working at the orphanage. Anyway, better run!

Thank you!

Just wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who helped out with my fundraiser. Thanks to Travis for doing a fundraiser at ETSU and also to the Kappa Sigma's who helped him. It really means a lot to me! Thank you also to my dad who raised money in Columbus. I'd also like to thank the academy for making this possible...okay, anyway. THANK YOU!

I'm not posting the total yet because money is still slowly coming in. The more I can raise, the better.

Today I went to the orphanage and hung out with the kids for the first time in a couple of weeks. I've been sick with a cold and so I've been avoiding the orphanage so I wouldn't spread my sickness to all the kids. Today I brought a big bag of bubble gum with me. They went crazy over the bubble gum! I talked with Madame Cella and had her make appointments with an electrician and a plumber to come in and give me an estimate to fix the broken fan in the girls room and the malfunctioning faucet in the bathroom. They are going to come give her the estimate first so that I don't get quoted the "Obruni price," but I will be present to personally pay both men for their services. I'm also going to see about adding a few more fans in the rooms, depending on how much money I can raise. Madame said she needs diapers, so I will purchase some on Monday and bring them to her, using the first bit of the fundraiser money. Anyway, it felt great to hang out with the kids again. I promised them that I would bring them more bubble gum on Monday.

Well, it's May 2nd, and I'm finally starting to get used to Africa. In fact, I think the culture shock when I get back to the states will be more intense than when I first arrived in Ghana. I'll be home in 52 days, but who's counting. I'm lucky to know what day it is here. Tomorrow I'm possibly going to Winneba for one of the largest festivals of the year. Two tribes come together for a deer hunt, and whoever catches the first deer with his bare hands has to sacrifice it the next morning. I think that's how it goes anyway. I don't think I'll be around for the sacrificing part, but it will be interesting to watch the two tribes come together for the hunt. Anyway, I'm still dirty from the orphanage so I'm going to shower before I meet up with some friends for falafels at Max Mart (one of the few very westernized restaurants in the area). Thanks once again to everyone who helped...and don't forget that the fundraiser isn't over yet! If you didn't get to stop by the Kappa Sigma table on Tuesday, it isn't too late! Just mail me a check to my mom's house. Make sure the checks are made out to me, as my mom will be putting the money in my account. Thanks so much!

Kimberly Foli
525 Timberline Dr.
Lenoir City, TN 37772