...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.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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

A breakthrough...

I woke up early this morning to take my antibiotics and was unable to go back to sleep because I realized that I was really, really happy. A week ago, I was dreading my return to New York City, but now I am so excited even I am surprised. I have many reasons to look forward to going back- some BIG and some smaller ones. The main reason is so explosive that I simply cannot reveal on my blogspot. Am I being dramatic? Quite possibly, but trust me, the news DESERVES a little drama! How crazy that now I actually kind of want to go home???

Anyhoo. So I was in bed for a little bit thinking about how wonderful my life is and will be in the upcoming weeks, months, etc.etc. Decided to message Scott to wish him luck on his Bhangra performance. I don't think I am angry anymore. I could be lying to myself though. Went to the Post Office to send my Daddy a birthday card. I'm missing Dance class again because of my inability to move my left arm still :( Oy. In an hour or two- lunch with Thelma and then Conflicts in African States at Ashesi.

If my swollen lymph nodes decide to finally subside, I am traveling to the Volta Region for Easter break! Super excited because 1) I've heard great things about it and 2) I'm going alone! Nervous? A little, but so what?

Life is good. I'm going home in a little under seven weeks!!!! AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I'm sorry.

If I had to be honest with myself, I would admit how much I miss the way things used to be. Some nights, I feel so nostalgic I could cry. If I had to be REALLY honest with myself, I would even admit that I miss the way I used to be. I wish I could feel seventeen and in love again. I wish I still had that excitement in me, but now it seems as though I have already felt and hurt a lot. Is twenty years old too young to feel as jaded as I do? Probably.

I have about seven weeks left here in Ghana. I don't know how I feel about leaving. I was talking about it with Hannah, and we both agreed that life is better here. We don't overwhelm ourselves with meaningless shit here in Ghana. Everyday, it's about living. I'm trying to remember what America was like the last time I saw it. There were probably a few headlines on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, and that is about all I can remember. Who really gives a fuck? People here in Ghana don't have a lot (in comparison with us spoiled Americans), but I'll tell you what: from what I can tell, they sure have a lot more heart. I've never met more friendly people in my life. Being in Ghana makes me reevaluate my life and the things I thought were important. Suddenly, they're not so anymore.

This past weekend, we went to Kibi for a Habitat for Humanity project. We didn't actually get to build anything; instead, we made bricks and transported them. The highlight was definitely when I tried carrying a brick on my head (they were big) and it fell off my head and onto my shoulders. I wasn't badly hurt or anything, just a layer of my skin scraped off. Anyways, it was a great weekend- really. On Sunday, many people went to Church but I stayed behind with Henry and Ellen. I decided after my homestay weekend that church really isn't for me. So there I was, lying on a mattress on the grass next to Gerald. Some kids were playing around on a tree and singing. Henry was petting someone's dog. Odei and Robert were having a conversation in twi. AND IT FELT LIKE THE MOST NATURAL THING IN THE WORLD. I felt completely content, like there was no other place in the world I would rather be.

I've been doing a great deal of escaping. In truth, my going to Ghana was an escape in itself. I was too tired of the city. Too tired of the same routine day in and day out. And in seven weeks, I will have to return. Go back to the hospital and work 7.5 or 11.5 hour shifts if I still have my job. Spend $15+ every time I eat out with friends for an unsatisfying meal. Buy clothes as if I don't have enough. Obsess over Grey's Anatomy. All of these things are little blessings because they are luxuries. I will go back to enjoying them, but hopefully I will not forget how lucky I am to have the things I have, the people who love me, and the things I am capable of doing.

When I see Annmary, I will probably cry. I miss you.

There is nothing more appropriate than writing on my blogspot especially when I have a paper for African Art due tomorrow.

I spent the past weekend at the Appiahs' in Kwashieman for the homestay. I was expecting two things: a modest home, and awkward conversations. Modest home? Not according to Ghanaian standards. They owned a huge house AND a complex- which was named after the wife, Agnes. Awkward conversations? There were hardly any. I got along considerably well with the Appiahs. There was only a little awkwardness whenever someone found out that I am from the states. The conversation would go something like this:

Me: Oh, I am from the U.S
X: Oh, that's nice! I want to go to the United States.
Me: Yeah, and I want to stay oh Ghana...
X; OH! Please, I beg you- bring me with you to America.
Me: Uh........
*Cricket sounds in the background*

Let's see. On Saturday, we went to a wedding. The bride was absolutely gorgeous. It was a little uncomfortable being the conspicuous Obruni. On top of that, I felt almost intrusive with my camera, but no one seemed to mind. (This picture is of Aunti Aggie praising the Lord)

There was no power or water later that night. Growing up and living in a tenement building, I have gotten used to not having those things periodically. HOWEVER, that night was one that I will not forget. The entire day I had sweat so much (which is what happens all day everyday) so by the end of the night, I could feel a thick film of grime on my face and body. I could smell myself and I smelled like a urinal. No fan meant attack of the mosquitos. When I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a rat in the tub. Good times.

The next day, Derrick (one of the older sons) took me to Church. If Hell does exist, I am more convinced than ever that that is where I am going considering the fact that I brought a bag of shit with me into the House of God. It was my first time attending Church... I only enjoyed the choir because one of the lead singers sounded like Mariah Carey (and he was a man, so I was pretty darn impressed!). I wonder if Ghanaians know that Jesus was black? And that Christianity condones slavery?

Switching topics now. I haven't done anatomy drawings since junior year of high school so when Lizzy volunteered to model for me, I was thrilled. Have to say it was awkard for the first two minutes as she laid buck naked on the floor-- not to mention Deborah was watching happily on my bed. Aaaaand to top it off, we watched her __________ _________ off on the webcam. My life is kind of obscene- and I like it! Anyhoo, here's one of my favorite sketches:
It is good to know that my four years at LaGuardia were not in vain :D I'm starting a new painting of Mr. Tego and Kofi's studio in Nima.

This weekend, we are doing a Habitat build, which I am really excited about!

It's John's 20th birthday today, and we all went out to Celsbridge to celebrate. Here's to turning 20 in Ghana!

So my last blog was a little angry. You would be too. I do not take any of it back.

Spring break ends tomorrow. I spent most of mine relaxing, volunteering, and towards the end I traveled with my Thelma to Takoradi, Akwidaa, and Busua. Despite some disappointments, it was still a lovely time. Exhausting seems to be the most enveloping adjective to describe our trip. Between the STC buses (the one to Takoradi was three hours behind schedule), tro tros, and rest stops, both ways took about 10 hours each (that's about how long it takes to travel to the Northern Region!). We were both very happy to be back home. That is what the Buf (our nickname for Abafun Crescent) and Accra have become to us: home.

Time is rapidly slipping away, and there is still so much I want to do here. I've been thinking about May 21st (more than I have in weeks), and I am dreading it. I love New York City, but I'm in love with Ghana. This is REAL; it is not the romantic little thirteen year old girl speaking. Look, New York, it's not you, it's me. You know what? How about we take a break? I just can't be in a relationship with you right now. I'm digressing as well as quoting indirectly. I've lost my faith, not my spirit. Back to Ghana... so much to do, so little time.


This picture is a little old, but it was taken at Larry's art studio in Nungua. He is a wonderful man.

You are cordially invited...

Question: What did I ever do to deserve the fucking shit that you people put me through? I am done feeling responsible. I am done feeling guilty. I am done feeling like I owe you shit. I am done feeling like I have to please your fucking ass. What the fuck did I ever do to you guys or anyone else?

Please, I kindly invite you to kiss my ass.

I am not proofreading this.

Time for an update. It has been the most futile Saturday. I got more fucked up than I had intended last night, my body is still trying to revive itself. Spent some time with Mom on Skype, rolled around in bed for a while, got a massage from Debo, and uploaded pictures on Facebook. Yes, it has been an exciting day. I don't mind giving my body a rest though. Shit has been crazy- both in Ghana and back home in the wonderful New York City.

Tuesday was Ghana's 50th year of independence. Monday night, a bunch of us went to the Kwame Nkrumah mausoleum to watch the fireworks. We should've have known that they wouldn't go off until an hour after the scheduled time because it is Ghana, and we are running on what is known as "Ghana time." Right when we got into the van to head back home, Justin told us that we were finally allowed into the memorial park and we got there just in time for the reeactment of Kwame Nkrumah's speech and the fireworks. It was beautiful. The atmosphere was filled with such pride and excitement, you could almost reach out your hand and grasp it. The night didn't have a very happy ending though. We got onto the platform to celebrate and to take pictures, but in a few seconds we were bombard with ten or more men who wouldn't let us get off. Little did we know, our pockets were actually being searched by them. When I finally got down safely, pairs of hands just grabbed at my shit. I was really surprised to see that my bracelet was still on my wrist (those fuckers were fierce). Unfortunately, John got robbed. I really respected his calm approach though. He reminded all of us (we were all pretty shook up) that they are just tangible items, and we were lucky that no one got hurt.

I find myself always learning.

The actual day of the independence was good. We all decided to sleep in and watch the parade on TV instead haha. We went to the Trade Fair when vendors from all over Africa come to sell their goods. I bought a lot of cool stuff, and now I have about six dollars to last the weekend :/

So I met Jesse Jackson at the Osu Children's Home because the day I volunteered was also the day he decided to make his donation. I found him very inspiring and really enjoyed the part of his speech when he made all of us repeat positive sayings after him (i.e., I am beautiful, I am somebody, etc etc). This guy who is working on Jesse Jackson's book interviewed me, but I really don't think he is going to include me because I sounded like a complete tool. That's okay.



So Spring break officially begins on Monday although we kicked it off early last night with a birthday party Deborah. It was pretty kick ass.

Many of the kids are going off to Europe. The idea has passed me before. Keith has suggested that I join him and Olsi in Barcelona, and I really did consider it. It was during a time when I needed to just say "fuck it" and do something drastic (because me going to ghana was not drastic enough), and also my scholarship money had finally arrived. Anyhoo, I will be staying in Ghana exploring different regions with some people here. I've decided that this is my time to fully be in Ghana. Europe will just have to wait for another time.

I'm really starting to feel at home (it's possible). I've been thinking a lot about how fast time is flying, and it depresses me when I think about having to say goodbye to the people here. I've really fallen in love with the security guard at the academic center, Mr. Tego. Going home makes me a bit stressful; there is just too much to deal with when I go back home (I will not disclose any of it on blogspot). Well. You can't hide forever.

"Ghana, your beloved country is free forever." -Kwame Nkrumah, March 6th 1957

Ghana just celebrated its 50th birthday, and I was lucky enough to be here to experience it myself. It was magical. Will write later.

About Elisabeth Marie Rainer

I'm writing more frequently. It's a little after 2 am and in three hours, I have to wake up and hop on the bus with the group to Kumasi. It's a four hour ride which means a decent nap. I'm pretty excited, and I can only hope that this excursion will be as amazing as the last one to Cape Coast and Elmina.

I'm going to write briefly about Elisabeth because 1) I told her I would, and 2) I am very grateful to have her as my roommate for a number of reasons. Elisabeth is small in size, possibly weighing under 100 lbs. She makes me feel tall because she is only 4'9 and a half, but don't let her size fool you. She is one mean bitch. She will not hesitate to call you out or kick your ass, and I find that admirable (unless she does that to me). Lizzy is very talented. Never having taken African Dance before, she was chosen to perform with Kojo's dance troupe, and we were all blown away. Not only was she fantastic, she had malaria at the time! Do you know what malaria does to you? Me neither, I didn't paid much attention in Boylan's Microbio lecture. Anyways... it's been a blessing having to share a room with an angry lesbian. For Valentine's Day, she gave me a jar of peanuts and said, "These are the only nuts you need in your life!" which is a total lie but she meant well haha. All I have to say is NYU in Ghana did something right when they assigned Lizzy as my roommate.

Everything here is wonderful. The people, places, food, classes, weather, etc etc. One must wonder why anyone would need to be in a relationship when he or she has jollof and FanYogo. Somedays are really good, and of course there are the days where I just don't have the patience that is much needed. At times, I hate going to Osu because merchants will see my pale skin (which is tanning nicely) and assume that I have money and want to buy all their goods. I like people, but sometimes I just want to be left alone. Luckily, I've learned all the Twi that I will ever need to learn ("I'm Ghanaian," "Stop! I don't like what you are doing!" and "I'll kill you").

Pale skin is a hot commodity here. A lot of times, kids will come up to me and touch me to see if I'm real. When they see that I am indeed human, they'll giggle and run away.

I'm kinda hopping all over the place here. On Thursday, I finally began my volunteer work at the Osu Children's Home (an orphanage). When I saw how simple the application process was, I was furious at NYU for not setting the appointment earlier and at myself for not asking them to. Anyways, it was an interesting experience-- one that left me more heartbroken than hopeful. The orphanage lacks staff, facilities, and supplies. Even more disconcerting was the lack of love and compassion from the staff members. This one little girl had the saddest look on her face, and she was kind of just left alone. It makes me so sad to think that many of these kids will not get the affection they need, probably because of the health risk it might pose. The artists of Accra just collaborated in this exhibit that tackles the issue of stigmatization of people living with AIDS, but I'm just not sure in certain situations (such as at the orphanage) if being cautious can be mistaken for stigmatizing.

I've been thinking a lot about the person I am and the person I want to be. I haven't made any definite conclusions yet, but in terms of what I want to do here in Ghana as well as wherever I go I have decided to follow this piece of advice from Principle Shapiro ("Our Children Are Dying"): Give until you are tired. Give until you can't give anymore.

Henry had told me a while ago that Accra was a very sketchy city. I now wholeheartedly agree with him. Everything here in Accra is slightly askew. If the cops find pot in your car, chances are you can get away with it by paying him 20,000 cedis (that's approximately $2, and you get to keep the weed). At the post office, you need to pay a fee for Customs to check your packages, but that fee fluctuates depending on how the employee is feeling that day. You're lucky if you hop on a tro-tro (the more cost efficient means of transportation) with door that properly closes. Trash is usually burning on the streets, and the only places where people do not pee are those that bear the warning sign: DO NOT URINATE HERE, FOOL!

Am I crazy to say that these are also some of the very things that make Accra so charming to me?

I love Accra (I say Accra instead of Ghana because I haven't really seen much of it yet). I love it because the people here are so friendly. Everyday is just filled with smiles, hellos, and goodbyes. Living in New York City my entire life (yes, all 20 years of it ha), I'm just not used to this kind of affection from strangers. I think about how I am going to expect people to smile at me on the streets of Manhattan and ask me how my day is going, and how disappointed I will be when no one actually does. I don't necessarily think it's a New Yorker thing either (you know, that "New Yorkers are mean" bullshit). I think people are just self-centered. Everything has to be about them, and if it's not then it is not important. Sometimes (and more often than not), it is not about you. The world does not stop when you do.

I think about how my Northface backpack costs enough to possibly put two children into high school, if not more. I think about how us NYU kids complain when there is no power or internet access, while the majority of this city doesn't either. I think about how high the illiteracy among children here is, and the unemployment even higher. I think about how those kids at Cape Coast wanted my beat-up Timbs so badly that they started untying my shoelaces.

I keep thinking about how happy these children were at Bola Beach playing with only a deflated volleyball. I can't seem to get that image out of my head.

Because you made your bed, now lay in it?

Well, I'm officially 20. I'm not sure what expectations I had in terms of turning 20 in Africa. Since I've been here, I feel like I've been steadily growing older-- a little every single day. This past week I GREW UP A LOT.

Last weekend, a group of us went away to Kokrobite, a beach about two hours away from Labone. We stayed in this really cheap hotel ($7/night), which was a pretty decent place to stay despite how disgusting the bathroom was. We got there pretty late on Saturday, but the rest was just a good drunken high time. It was an apt getaway considering how crummy I had been feeling since that Wednesday.

Carrie Bradshaw was right; a break really is just "a hop, skip, and a week away from a break up." I think I am just trying to reconcile with the fact that I dated a really good high school friend for six months and in a month's time, he had transformed himself into a stranger. My heart wasn't as broken as much as my mind was blown.

Something else happened in a month's time since I've been in Accra. I've realized the following things about myself:
1. I am a phenomenal woman
2. I am stronger than I was a year ago
3. Can't think of a third realization :/

Some would agree with me, others might think I am delusional. I am how I feel: a phenomenal twenty year-old woman, that's me.




Classes are going well. I thoroughly enjoy my Traditional African Dance class; if I am not dripping sweat by the first 15 minutes, then I am not putting enough into the dance. My art classes are fantastic. Today, for my Envisaging Accra class, a few of us went to Larry Otoo's studio and did some sketches. We're going back next week to paint his portrait. Last week, Jesse Ariel Henry and I particpated in the 'Saving Accra's Roots' project. Fourteen trees (which were imported from India way back when) were cut off near Cantonments Roundabout, and we got to paint banners for the tree funeral as a form as protest. They were erected the next day and are still there. It's awesome that we got to take part in it. I've missed Art.

The only class I don't love is my Conflicts in African States class mainly because I can't understand the professor (he pronounces Charles Taylor like Chaztilla...) and the Ashesi boys are ridiculous (except for a few).

Tomorrow, I go back to Nsawam (Eastern region) with Danae to visit Eric and the girls. They're the sweetest girls and very talented dancers. I'm excited. Next weekend, excursion to Kumasi which means another blog and a shitload of pictures. Until then, I hope everyone is happy and healthy back home.

"Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none."

A bit of a conversation I had with my Art professor, Uncle Joe, this morning:

Uncle Joe: Hello! How are you?
Me: Not so well...
Uncle Joe: Ay! What's wrong?
Me: I think my relationship with someone just ended
Uncle Joe: Oy! Oh HOORAY!!! How old are you?
Me: 19
Uncle: Ay! HOORAY!!!!

What did he mean by his outburst of joy? Was he happy that I was single and that I'm legal? Sadly, no. Uncle Joe wanted me to see that I am still young and that the world is just starting to open for me. Even though his unexpected reaction made me laugh, I still couldn't contain myself and half the van was wondering why I was in tears. I'm not sure what the point of being in a relationship is if I just keep losing a best friend after another.

Breaks/break-ups always have shitty timing.

If anyone is reading this, I'm sure s/he didn't come to this site to read about boy problems so let's get back to Africa.

Last weekend, we had a first excursion: Cape Coast and Elmina. I don't really have words to describe the Elmina Slave Castle. For the majority of the visit, I was standing on the outside. I took my pictures, explored the slave chambers, but I didn't feel much. Then the tour guide led us to the Point of No Return, which was where a person saw his or her family for the last time before sailing into the ocean and becoming somebody's slave. We then took turns looking out of the little doorway that looks out to the Atlantic Ocean. I really didn't expect to feel so much, but as soon as I was in that doorway, I was just completely overwhelmed. I tried to imagine having to say goodbye to my family and never seeing them again. Just really sad thoughts and the most horrifying one was wondering how something like this could happen. Most of us were in tears by the time we left the Point of No Return. I can try to write how I felt and I can post pictures, but really, you had to be there.

The rest of the trip was pretty "cool runnings" as Professor Perbi might say. We stayed at the Coconut Beach Resort which was absolutely gorgeous. I did everything I wanted to do there; watch the sunset, fall asleep under the stars on the sand, roll around in the water, and I woke up early enough to watch the sunrise.

I don't feel inspired to write at all (even if it's just a silly blog) so I will continue another time.

While still in New York City, I was determined to gain as much weight as I possibly could thinking that I was going to lose most of it in Ghana. Scott told me not to be so sure of that, and he was right because here I am writing on blogspot after finishing my fourth grilled cheese sandwich. FOURTH.

There isn't much to update on. Over the past three weeks, I have fallen in love with Ghana. Life here is pretty sweet. After my African Art class, I can just walk down the long road to Aunti Adjoa and have her cut up a pineapple for me for 5000 cedis (that's roughly 50 cents). Dinner everyday from Monday-Friday Tante Marie's followed by dessert. When I feel like relaxing, I can just go out on my balcony and read while sunbathing.

The Ghanaians are very, very friendly; however, their attitudes about my nationality are quite similar to the ones I normally get in the city except with different intentions. For example, I can never be from New York City. No. Really, where are you from? New York City. Korea? No.

Normally, this shit would piss the fuck out of me back in the city, but I have to remember this isn't New York City and these aren't my usual neighbors. I'm sure most of them don't mean to offend, but it sure can get a little annoying while I'm walking in Osu and men call out "Korea!" or "Konichiwa" and I smile and I say "I'm not Japanese."

Professor Pham's APA class that I took in the Fall opened my eyes to a lot of things. Knowledge is power, and now that I have (some of) it, I don't know what to do with it.

I went to the New Horizons Special School today to begin my volunteer application process. I really hope that the lack of productivity I observed today was because we went during their lunch/recess. Many of the students were just sitting around waiting for people to give them attention. It's a little intimidating for me even after having volunteered with mentally and physically children for two years. I think I'm especially nervous with the adults because I want to support not pity, but sometimes I am not always aware of how others may receive me. I'm hoping to help them with arts and crafts for the obvious reasons, and also because the director of the program said, "Are you from Japan? You people are very good with your hands." In NYC, I would've flipped a shit. Not here, though. This is Ghana.

Being so far away from home has affected me greatly. Instead of missing the things I used to do, I really miss all the things that I stopped doing or never started. While at La Badi Beach with the girls, I had this longing to prepare a nice meal for my mom and have a picnic in Battery Park. That will be one of the first things I do when I get back. We also have to go to the Museum of Natural History because my mom loves to see snakes even though she's so terrified of them she used to scream whenever Annmary or I would wave one of those wooden ones you get off of Canal Street.

We take too many things for granted. Frank McCourt's Tis has possibly replaced Tuesdays with Morrie for me. There's a character who's angry at those who take breathing for granted because he has asthma. If everybody had asthma, no one would ever take another breath for granted. Very few people are aware of and thankful for their blessings. Hardly anyone ever stops to be grateful for the ability to breathe, but it is still a nice thought. My mom always used to say, "You are luckier than a lot of people. You can walk. You can run. You can do anything you want while some people will never have that chance." I guess that is why when people come to me with their "problems," I remind them that a lot of people have it a lot worse. It may come off as me being bitchy and insensitive, but it is what it is and it is the truth.

It's about 4:36 a.m (which mean 11:36 p.m EST back in New York City), and I am still awake. I've been having more trouble than usual falling asleep; if I'm not going over what happened during the day in my head, I'm busying myself thinking about New York City. I have to get up early in the morning to get my ID card at the University of Ghana, which means I won't be getting much sleep anyway. Who needs sleep anyway? You can sleep when you die, as they say.

It has almost been two weeks since I've arrived in Accra. The first days were, by far, the most exciting days I have ever experienced. It was just a wonderful feeling being so far away from home in another world that is so different. The next few days, however, sucked ass. I had a fever that refused to go down and after the third day of being sick in bed, Chris (my CRA) decided that it was time for me to go to the hospital. I'm pretty sure the determining factor for the hospital trip was me vomitting twice in the morning and falling asleep near the toilet. Anyway. Richmond, our lovely driver (or maybe it was the other driver-- I was pretty out of it) took us to Nyaho Medical Center. The other patients were pretty intrigued by my presence as well as Chris being my company. Chris nearly gave me a panic attack when he told me that I had to get tested for malaria. I wasn't scared of the test itself, I was more afraid of the results.

The aid who drew my blood made me feel very uncomfortable, but I've been told that it is the norm here. He noticed that I was dizzy (clearly from the armstrap being too tight around my arm), but suggested that I calm down and talk to him like he was my "sweetheart." Then there were some movements that involved him moving his crotch a little too close to me. I don't want to draw too detailed of a picture, but I am not exaggerating. One cannot imagine the inappropriate manner of some of the men here unless he or she experiences firsthand (HOWEVER, you might have had a few similar experiences if you take the F train). And the fact that I have undetectable veins in my arms did not help. It took him a very long time to draw about 10 mL of blood, and by the time he was done- I couldn't see straight. After three very long hours, the results came back negative. I got tested for malaria and came back positive for a UTI. Whatever. I'm just thankful.

Since then, I have fully recovered and have been taking pretty good care of myself. I'm going to take advantage of these five months. When I left New York, I felt very tired and uninspired; hopefully, it will be different when I return. I can already feel a change happening.

Classes started on Tuesday. As of now, I am taking History of the Atlantic Slave Trade, African Art: Past & Present, Envisaging Accra, and Conflicts in the African States. I originally wanted to take drumming and dancing courses at Legon, but being that the registration process makes me cringe and the time schedules do not work well with mine, I am only going to be taking classes at the NYU academic center and Ashesi University. Not too big of a loss, especially since I plan to take outside drumming lessons with Thelma. It feels really refreshing to step away from Nursing for just a bit and to explore things that I normally would not get to explore (i.e African art and dance).

It took me a while, but I finally learned how to walk from Abafun (my residence) to the academic center, as well as Osu (the busy city area). That's kind of exciting because it means now I can explore more without being scared of getting lost. Then again, being scared can be a good thing (as well as getting lost).

The homesickness has finally begun to dwindle. For a day, I felt really depressed, but I definitely take it as part of the experience. Not only am I no longer in my old comfort zone, I'm also in Africa. And for a moment, I forgot why I chose Africa or to study abroad at all. Now I am able to easily recall my many reasons for choosing Ghana; I won't go over them, but the important thing is that the reasons still hold true. I am not going to be in Africa for very long. Before I know it, it will already be May and I will be boarding a plane headed to Newark. I am going to appreciate every day I get to spend here because I will never get these days back. Ghana, thusfar, has been wonderful, and the people here are all so friendly. No matter how dismal some of the situations here may seem, the Ghanaians are still very proud and strong people. I have a lot of respect for them.


Our first night in Accra! We had just gotten off the plane and through customs. The majority of us look like pure crap :)

Has it really only been five days since I arrived? Feels so much longer. It still has not hit me that I am going to be here for the next five months. Orientation has made the trip so far seem long and repetitive, but in a few short days we're all going to be starting our classes at the NYU academic center, Ashesi University, and the University of Ghana. I'm really looking forward to a lot of these classes. It is so nice to take a break from nursing and to just take all electives. I'm especially looking forward to the two art classes... it has been way too long.

Being an Asian in Ghana is very interesting. Everyone always mentions the experience of a foreigner (or an 'abruni,' if you will) but that term mainly applies to Caucasians, or at least in my humble opinion. I took a walk around my neighborhood a few days ago and it was very obvious that the Ghanaians were surprised to see me. They'll stop and ask if I am from China or if I am Japanese. But let's be honest: that happens even in New York City, but the big difference is that the Ghanaians are all very friendly and endearing, for the most part. Everyone is always waving and asking you how you are doing. My neighbors are so pleasant that it is hard to be annoyed even when they are looking at me like I have a penis on my forehead.

It is very different seeing children who have little to nothing on almost every road. Back in New York City, I'm used to seeing white brats with their American Girl dolls (yes, I said it). It is refreshing in a way, but in truth, it is beyond depressing. I think I am more sensitive than most people (that's a bad thing, I think). The other day when these young beggars chased the van and wouldn't let go of my window has led me to think that maybe I am not strong (?) enough for Africa. I'm trying to define what that means, even for myself.

Dr. Yaw said something the other day that moved me: "People can challenge your knowledge, but they cannot challenge your experience." I'm not sure how the next five months will play out. I could love it or hate it, but regardless the experience is my own.

I am finally here in Accra, Ghana. After an exhausting flight from Newark to London, a very lonely eight-hour layover at Heathrow Airport, and a seven hour flight from London to Accra, I arrived at my residential hall at around 11 pm last night. It was love at first sight; Lila Yuen is in a relationship with Accra (Ghana).

Today was the first of many days of orientation (actually, there are only 5 more days but they are 10-12 hours each). The staff here is unbelievable; in fact, everything here is unbelievable. Abafun Crescent Complex is a huge house which I share with seven other girls. Elizabeth and I have the largest room with direct access to the balcony. Everything is super except for our air conditioner, which was deemed broken when it started to rain on my desk. Aside from that, I could not ask for more-- we even have avocado/banana/palm trees in our backyard.

I don't miss New York nearly as much as I miss the people living in it. However, Skype is making communication so much easier at the cost of two pennies per minute :)

I still cannot believe I am in Africa; it will all either become more real or surreal (perhaps both?) when I begin classes at the University of Ghana/Ashesi University and when I start volunteering at the Osu Children Center and hopefully the hospital too.

I guess I am waiting to come down from what John called the "Ghana high." I do not see it happening anytime soon.