Happy Birthday to my Daddy who turns 57 today! I LOVE YOU.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, April 13, 2007
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?"
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?"
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, April 2, 2007
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.
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.
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