...and I'm gonna miss everybody, and I'm gonna miss everybody...

Thanks to Drew, the majority of the program is now addicted to Bone Thugs-n-Harmony's "Tha Crossroads." My iTunes tells me that I've played that song 18 times since adding it on the 11th. Pretty soon it's going to surpass the number of times I've played "Seasons of Love."

RENT. Reminds me of Deborah. I feel like Deborah and I just broke up, and I am trying my hardest not to think about her. We bid her farewell last night as she frantically rushed to the airport. Why the hell do I miss her so much? The girl lives in New Jersey. Maybe I cried because I know that like her, I was going to leave Ghana. Like Deborah, I will not be returning to Ghana anytime soon. Like Deborah, I'm leaving behind some of the sweetest people I've ever met.

I am going to admit that one of the reasons why I love Ghana so damn much is because I have no real responsibilities here. More than that, I have no concerns. No job that requires me to wake up at 6:30 a.m and wipe ass all day long (to put it bluntly). Mom isn't worried that I forgot my cellphone, and she isn't imagining that I am being sexually assaulted in some dark alley (when do I even walk through alleys?). Not to mention this has been, by far, the easiest semester of my academic career. I believe I studied harder for my high school classes than I did for my classes here.

This is not to say I haven't learned a thing during my time here. It has been a significant learning process where I found out more about the world and myself then I ever knew. Before I left NYC, I was convinced that studying abroad in Ghana would be different from studying abroad in the other sites, and by "different" I really meant more important. True, I can't speak for the other countries, but being in Ghana has truly been a unique and beautiful experience- one that I will never forget. From celebrating Ghana's 50 years of independence to the very emotional trips to slave castles- it has been terrific. What a time it has been for me here in Ghana. Five months of excursions, beaches, and delicious Ghanaian food. Life here is pretty damn sweet, and my being a foreigner here has a lot to do with it-- and I am very aware of that.

Could I ever live in Ghana long-term? Probably not. At times, it is aggravating being in Ghana as a foreigner. It would be different if I loved attention, but I don't and it is what I get everytime I walk down the street.

To shift to a more positive note, I will NEVER forget the hospitality and friendliness I have experienced here from perfect strangers. For example, wonderful people who will go out of their way to help you find the right tro-tro (that's what we call lorries here). In New York City, it's a shock if someone asks you how you are doing. You would probably assume that they're either 1) crazy or 2) expecting something from you. Here in Ghana, it's the complete opposite: you expect people to ask about you and if they don't, then something is wrong. I really hope that I don't lose this when I go back to the city. I don't want to go back to my old ways where I would be walking down the street and all I care about is my playlist.

People matter. Communication matters. Caring for and about people really matters.

Five people in the program have decided to stay in Ghana for an additional three weeks. Even if I didn't have to pay a cancellation fee of $1200 for my ticket, I wouldn't stay in Ghana. Do not get me wrong. I love Ghana. It has been the most amazing five months of my little life. But it is time to go home. It's time to pick up where I left off. See old friends who I've missed so much. Spend quality time with my family. Continue working the job that I so often complain about, but know deep down that it is meaningful and worthwhile.

In four days I go back to New York City, but I know that I will never fully leave Ghana behind me. When I hop on the F train again, I will think about the stuffy tro tro and being so cramped that my neighbor's armpit is sweating directly on my shoulder. When I use my hands to eat food, I'll think about the delicious fufu and how people are usually very surprised to see me finish it all. Walking down the ice cream aisle will result in a craving for FanYogo and FanIce. White rice will not do it anymore- I need my jollof. When I pass by a fellow New Yorker, I will smile at him and ask him how he is doing. He will probably give me a dirty look, and I will continue to smile because it will remind me of Ghana and how I would've gotten a "Mepaakyɛw, me ho yɛ" instead.

Someday I'll be coming home...

...that someday being next Sunday, May 20th. 10:35P.M. Where did the last five months go? I'm not sure why I'm even surprised that it's almost time to leave. I've always known that time flies by without any warning, yet it always catches me offguard anyhow.

For my Envisaging Accra class, we were expected to keep "visual diaries" to record the city of Accra and our interactions with it. Thinking that my personal journal was inappropriate (especially since they were to be on display at an art exhibit), I tried to keep a separate journal. I found myself literally forcing myself to write some bullshit entries accompanied with doodles that not even a five year old would call art. Finally, I said, "What the fuck. I am going to use my personal journal, and I will continue to write about whatever the hell I want to and not give a fuck what people will think when they read." That's not exactly what I said to myself, but it is exactly what I did.

Last week during our art show, visitors had a chance to look at our visual diaries. Although I don't think too many people read my entries, it was pretty much all out there. Everything from feeling alienated from my peers to my naive expectations of Scott to my fatal and futile attraction to Chris to shitting in a bag and bringing it in to church (no, I didn't want to do it and I've never said I was a classy gal). Other components of my visual diary included sonograms, Scott's entertaining email, Keith postcards from Paris and Barcelona, and of course, sketches.

When I read back on the earlier entries, I am glad to see that I was wrong. It simply shows that I have grown, even if just a little, and that I've learned.


JANUARY 17, 2007
...The homesickness has kicked in. I've been here for nine days and already if given the option I would fly home tomorrow. I'm not too surprised that I am feeling this way. I am, however, wishing that it will pass soon. I am in Ghana for five months. This is an amazing experience that many people will never have. Being homesick makes the five months seem very long, but in truth, it certainly is not. Before I know it, we will all be living Accra in May.


FEBRUARY 20, 2007
It is 11:05 P.M on a Tuesday night. I'm in the living room, and Deborah is sleeping on the spare mattress. Jessi is writing a paper and listening to some Electronica (?) I have traditional Dance tomorrow morning even though my muscles are still sore from the last session.

I wanted to write tonight because I am really content with life. I have $21 in my checking account. Scott just turned into an ex-boyfriend AND ex-bestfriend. I live in a tenement building with my parents in Chinatown. And I am really content. What more could I possibly want that I do not have? I have a beautiful family. Friends who love me. Sisters who are there for me no matter what. An education at a "top" university. I am healthy. I have a home. I am not hungry. My family is healthy, and we all love each other.

I'm just really enjoying my time here in Accra. I'm appreciating it for what it is and what it is not as well as acknowledging what I love about New York City.

My life and the people I have in it are so good.
Nothing is missing anymore.

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I'll probably write one more time before I jet. Hopefully, it will be something of substance unlike all my other entries.

Thank you JESSI and AHMED for reading!


Pictures from our farewell dinner:

Haven't written on this blog for a while, and now I am leaving in 16 days. I'm too lazy to write about what has happened since the last entry, and I'm about to be overwhelmed with the idea of leaving Ghana. Initially, I was excited to come back home, but after tonight's "Re-entering Workshop," I am a little less ecstatic. The speaker pretty much told us that we are going to be depressed for a while, and that our friends will not understand our experiences here/us.

To make things a bit easier, I shall complete the worksheet we were given tonight.

FIVE THINGS I ENJOYED MOST ABOUT STUDYING ABROAD:

1. Being away from Mom and Dad
2. Being able to go to West Africa
3. Experiencing new things
4. Exploring new places
5. Finding out more about myself? (cheesy)

FIVE THINGS THAT WERE DIFFICULT OR BOTHERED ME THE MOST WHILE I HAVE BEEN ABROAD:

1. Missing my family and not being there for them when they really needed me
2. Missing my friends
3. Being sick from time to time
4. Feeling rather lonely in the beginning
5. Not having control over personal relationships back in the states

FIVE THINGS I MISSED THE MOST ABOUT HOME WHILE I HAVE BEEN ABROAD ARE:

1. My family & friends
2. The food!!!
3. The beginning of Spring in New York City
4. Alpha Sigma Tau
5. Familiarity

FIVE THINGS I HAVE MISSED LEAST SINCE I HAVE BEEN ABROAD ARE:

1. Celebrity news
2. Working at the hospital (I have mixed feelings about this one)
3. NYU workload
4. Cold weather (snow)
5. Hmm...

FIVE THINGS I BELIEVE I WILL MISS LEAST ABOUT LIVING ABROAD:

1. Being called an Asian country WHEREVER I go
2. The aggressive approach of (most) Ghanaian men
3. Ghanaian time (delays all the time)
4. Being non-Ghanaian therefore I must have lots of money and will buy all of your bead bracelets
5. Sweating profusely everyday

FIVE THINGS I WILL MISS THE MOST ABOUT LIVING ABROAD:

1. The people I have grown to love (Chris, Steve, Robert, Odei, Mr. Tego, Kwame,...)
2. The food- AMAZING. Jollof- amazing. Fufu- amazing. Light soup- amazing. Ashesi food- amazing.
3. The friendliness
4. The beaches
5. The Buf family

and a lot more.

I think I am going to cry.

Despite the recent tragedy at Virgina Tech, life still deserves to be celebrated.

Happy Birthday to my Daddy who turns 57 today! I LOVE YOU.

April 16th, 2007

When the Columbine shooting happened in 1999, I was twelve years old. I did not understand what happened. Perhaps I was too young to.

Now I am twenty years-old and I still cannot understand. I am beyond shocked and heartbroken by the news of the horrific event that occurred at Virginia Tech yesterday. One needs not a direct connection to the Virginia Tech community to cry because pain like this is universal.

The incident yesterday is described as the worst school shooting in U.S history. It saddens me to think that it is an open possibility that Cho's record might be topped. More than sadden, it fucking terrifies me. I am scared beyond words.

Bless the souls of the departed.

If ever I am afraid of something minute, I'll just remind myself, "Hey, remember that time you traveled six hours out of Accra on your own?"

Well, I did it. I traveled to the Volta Region by myself during Easter Break! It was pretty nerve-wracking. I felt the same way I felt when I flew to London alone (nearly three months ago). I left Accra at around 10 am and boarded a tro-tro with approximately 37 others. My row, which was designed for five people, now seated seven- two kids and five adults (two of which had apple bottoms and very wide hips). A claustrophobic person would not have survived in this tro-tro (or any tro-tro, for that matter). I was pretty nervous about traveling a far distance in a tro-tro since every ride is sort of a gamble with death (I'm 75% serious). My fear was only intensified when a man stood up just as the van started to move, and he said a very long prayer in Twi. Though I have mixed feelings about God, you can be sure that I said, "Amen," at the end of the prayer anyway.

When I arrived in Ho, it was around 2 pm... and pouring. I went about town in the rain looking for a chop bar (I had a craving for fufu, and I was starving). Well, everything was closed because of Easter. Disappointed and hungry, I returned to the tro-tro station and retreated in some lady's shop and waited for the rain to stop. It didn't, and I wanted to get to Hohoe before dark so I decided to leave and purchase a ticket to my next destination. That's when I met Evans. Within fifteen minutes of meeting me, he felt that it was appropriate to tell me that he enjoys fucking a lot. Where do these people come from?? (Kumasi, apparently!) He asked me the usual questions: where I'm from, if I'm a "real" American, whether I had a boyfriend, etc. When he got really persistent, I told him that I hated all men and women, and that the only one I love is God. Still, the boy did not give up and asked if he could go to Hohoe with me. I found it interesting that he wanted to marry a white woman and by white, he meant "Caucasian, Middle Eastern, Chinese, 'whatever'" On the topic of race, I told him that the image of a "real" American is not real at all because America is many different colors. He pretended like he understood. I also told him that he asks way too many questions, and that he was giving me a headache. When he finally left, he said, "I love you... or I like you. Which one do you want it to be?" I told him, "Leave! Goodbye!" It was the bitch from New York City talking... a cold, wet, and hungry bitch.

Hohoe was farther than I thought. When we finally got there, it was getting dark. Populated by mostly Muslims and Ewes, I found the people more conservative and less friendly than my neighbors in Accra (I'm probably a little biased, too). People were hissing at me from left to right (hissing is a norm here when you want to get someone's attention). From all directions, I received nicknames like "Korea" and "Japan"-- I even got a "Shaolin." I hailed a cab headed to the Grand Hotel, and when I got there, there were no rooms left. I freaked out a little. I tried the Matvin Hotel. Luckily, they had a room for me, but I think I was the only one in the entire hotel. They had to open the restuarant for me. From afar, I could hear chanting and praying. I was pretty afraid during the entire night, and had to ask myself what I was thinking when I decided to go to the Volta Region alone.

Rain and Easter shortened my trip; I wasn't able to do a lot of the things I intended (i.e visit the kente village), but I'm glad I decided to do it. Traveling by myself was a big deal to me. People tend to think that I am limited because I am a little Asian girl- even I am guilty of that at times. But really, I am only small in size, but big in everything else. Mr. Tego told me he thought I was nuts. Growing up, my overly protective mom never gave me any chances to explore. She did all she could to prevent me from getting hurt, but a lot of the times she failed to realize that I wanted (maybe even needed) to get hurt. I guess my trip to the Volta Region was really to prove to myself and disbelievers that I am able.

If ever I am afraid of something minute, I'll just remind myself, "Hey, remember that time you traveled six hours out of Accra on your own?"

I've done the damage, the damage is done
I pray that I am the damaged one