My blog has moved!

After much consideration, I decided to move my blog over to a different platform. You can now access my posts and stories at https://blackstarofhope.wordpress.com/.

I look forward to your continued readership!

Our Cozy Korean Home

Take a sneak peak at the apartment Erik and I have in Korea!

Don't worry! More wordy blog posts are on their way (probably tomorrow). For now, satiate yourselves with a quick tour around our wonderful little Korean apartment :)

Christmas and Ringing in the New Year in Hanguk

"Say-hay bok mahni badeu sayo!", which means "I hope you receive many new year blessings!" in Korean.

Erik and I have been busy celebrating here in Ganseong. Our Christmas was calm and quiet, but lovely. We basically chilled in our pj's in front of the TV watching Christmas movies. Christmas morning we slept in, made a big brunch, and opened up presents. I got Erik "Gumption" (comedian Nick Offerman's second book) and a Parks and Recreation themed mug. Erik got me an orchid and my first Korean children's book:바다에 가요 ["Trip to the Beach"]. We've been reading a little bit of the book together almost every day. I'm proud to say I'm on page 13 out of 28 - not too shabby!

Our Christmas tree(s) and presents!

Our Christmas tree topper!
(It's supposed to be Zack...)

Erik and I on Christmas Eve :)

Erik's Parks & Rec mug!

Erik delightfully opening up "Gumption"
(Insert Ron Swanson's giggle of glee here.)

Me and my new orchid
(which is still mostly alive!)

Me holding my first ever Korean book! Whoopee!

On Boxing Day Erik went on his first trip to Sokcho while I nursed a headache/sore stomach (the excitement of Christmas was clearly too much for my fragile disposition!). Sokcho is a city about 25 minutes away from Ganseong. Like every good boyfriend should, Erik ran some errands for me while he was there (including getting me fresh prawns to eat!). He also enjoyed lunch at an Italian restaurant owned by Woongsik's (spelled his name wrong in the last post, whoops!) friend. Then he came right home to check on me before heading up to Woongsik's for a fresh crab dinner, an invitation which I politely declined.

On Sunday I was feeling better so we went back to Sokcho, together. First we stopped by Sokcho's traditional fish market, which was teeming with people. The market includes both vendors and restaurants (often vendors sell goods and well as prepare their goods for people to eat on the spot). Being surrounded by fresh fish, we made the only wise decision there was - purchase everything deep-fried and crispy. So we ate a "twisted potato" and deep-fried prawns. Yummy at the time, but definitely came back to haunt me later on - especially the potato, which we discovered had been fried in duck fat.

Erik checking out the live seafood on offer.

One of the many crabs aggressively gesturing at us

Twisted potatoes!

Similar to the deep-fried prawns we ate
(yes, those bad boys are whole in there - shell and all!)

We also tried to go to e-Mart, which is a box store chain here that offers both Korean and western goods but just our luck - it was closed for a store holiday! So was Lotte Mart (the other box store in town) so we were SOL on that one. It's okay though, we ended up going back to Sokcho later that week to stock up on goods! After our failed trip to e-Mart we went for dinner at Yonamja, an "Italian" place (everything is relative here) where I was able to access a delicious smoked salmon salad and Erik got a steak burrito. We then headed to MEGABOX to see Star Wars: The Force Awakens. It was in English with Korean subtitles (phew!) and it was AWESOME. (Don't even care about the bad reviews it's getting online. If you can't fill in the plot holes using common sense or your imagination, maybe you shouldn't be watching Star Wars to begin with! End rant.)

The rest of the week was boring - so skip to New Year's Eve! We started our "eve" with a beautiful run into Gajin, the neighbouring town. We came upon a beach, local fish market, and pier (complete with lighthouse) that was incredibly beautiful. Back home, I worked a bit while Erik handy-manned and made some japchae for dinner (really yummy dish, you should try it!). That night we both dressed up a bit and headed out to the Orange Boy, a local bar, for some drinks. It ended up being really nice. We drank beer, soju cocktail (wayyyy too sweet!), and bekseiju while the women that owns the joint fed us free snacks including fresh fruit, fruit chips, and fried eggs (typical bar food here, I'm not even kidding). I think she was worried we were going to get annihilated on her watch. We played card games and watched the Korean TV and movie awards ceremony. At midnight we celebrated a bit with the other patrons - young adults, some home for the holidays from college. A table of young men offered Erik and I melon popsicles (they had dairy in them, so I just tried a bite of Erik's) and then asked Erik to rank them based on level of handsome-ness, which he proceeded to do. Not only that, he basically ranked them higher based on how American they looked. What a guy! In spite of ranking people based on their looks, Erik and I left the bar with warm wishes and a couple dudes interested in learning to play Catan. We had brought the game with us and surreptitiously left it in plain eyesight to catch others' attention. Our mission was a success!

Home. Post-japchae. Pre-drunk.

Orange Boy... Drunk.

We got home around 1:30 AM and then settled in for a solid four hours' sleep before our 5:30 AM wake up call. Why were we up at 5:30 in the morning on New Year's Day, you ask? Well, here in Korea they have a lunar new year tradition that has been transposed onto the western new year, called "greeting the new year sun". So, as newcomers, we had to try it out.

At 6 AM we drove with Woonsik and his wife, Jinyeong, to the beach. We made a fire and hunkered down with some tea and espresso. We were some of the first people to arrive. As time passed others arrived, including a group of men setting off fireworks and shooting sparkler arrows into the ocean. Also families with rice paper lanterns that were lit and floated off into the sky. The sky slowly came awash with deep blue, lighter blue, pinks, and oranges. Then, just after 7:30, the new year sun made its appearance - a glowing deep magenta orb that steadily rose up over the ocean and into the sky. It was absolutely beautiful.

Jinyeong, Woonsik, and Erik huddled around the fire.

Erik keeping me warm, as my Salomon headband glows in the firelight.

Local men shooting sparkler-tipped arrows into the ocean.

People greeting the new year's sun.

As the new year sun rises you're supposed to make a wish. I wished for a happy and healthy year with my chosen person, Erik. I wish all of you and your chosen people a happy and health new year, too! May each sun of this year bring you love, growth, and prosperity! :)

It's Christmukkah in Korea!

Right now I am sitting watching the sun go down over the mountains. It's Christmas Eve and I'm in Ganseong-eup, a small coastal city in eastern South Korea.

I arrived in South Korea on December 15. The past two weeks have been a blur. I spent the first week in Unseo (a suburb of Seoul) with my cousin Meghan and her boyfriend Dongwon. I ate some traditional Korean dishes, packed myself into overfilled subway cars, practiced some rudimentary Korean, and got a Japanese encephalitis vaccine. On the weekend, Erik arrived (yay!). We spent Saturday with his imo (aunt), imobu (uncle), and cousin. They took us to a delicious Japanese restaurant in Gangnam (yep, like in "Gangnam Style") and then out for coffee on Saebit Dungdungseom, a series of three floating islands on the Han River where part of "Avengers: Age of Ultron" was filmed! You can learn more about these islands and their design here.

Erik, me, and the hippie van in front of Dr. Helen Cho's lab on
Island Viva!

That night, we stayed up late watching "Trainwreck" (with Korean subtitles) and playing the Korean version of Settlers of Catan (it looks wayyyy different!) with Meghan and Dongwon while drinking soju, black beer, wine, and stuffing our faces with chicken, pizza, fries, and nachos (I clearly stuck to the nacho chips and fries). American fast food is really popular here, especially fried chicken and pizza. Every third restaurant is selling fried chicken. Fortunately for me, every fourth store is selling kope (coffee)!

Me playing Korean "Catan". I did not have the cards I needed apparently.
You'll notice the road, settlement, and city pieces are shaped plastic (not
wood blocks) and the resource tiles look different!

On Sunday Erik and I said goodbye to Seoul and started our (long!) journey to Ganseong-eup. The subway to the bus terminal was two hours, and then the bus ride to Ganseong-eup was three hours. During the trip we stopped and got some Korean fast food called "gimbap", which is basically a sushi roll minus the raw fish (they use egg, ham, pork, veggies, etc.). When we arrived home we received our first shipment of goods. It was the small one, with some basic household items like cookware and towels, and some non-essentials Erik packed during a panic moment. We unpacked these and then tried to catch some shut eye on the rock hard mattress we have (we'll be buying a mattress topper ASAP!).

"Gimbap"

Monday was a cleaning day. Unlike in North America where you have to clean up before you move out, in South Korea it's the new tenant that cleans up after the old tenant. Sometimes it can be nasty (just YouTube search dirty korean apartments). Fortunately ours was in decent shape. The worst part was the grey film on everything (I think at some point there must have been a smoker living here) and the sporadic spatterings of stickers on furniture, windows, etc. Koreans LOVE stickers and laminates. They put sticker covers on their windows, furniture, countertops - you name it. In all sorts of ridiculous patterns (we even saw a "Frozen"-themed window covering sticker at the market!). They also put instruction stickers on things. In our bathroom we had two instruction stickers for how to properly brush your teeth. One on the cabinet and one in the shower. I can now say I have developed my sticker-scraping muscles in my hands and forearm - they look awesome. That night Erik took me out for some grilled shrimp at a small restaurant on a back street. It was just okay. The banchan (side dishes) weren't great, there was no rice (WTF?! aren't I in Korea?), and the seafood and meat Erik ordered wasn't the tastiest. Plus it cost like $30! Needless to say I got to pick the next restaurant we ate at and it was wayyy better (and cheaper!). #winning

This is what a good selection of "banchan" looks like.
At the shrimp place we only got three - pickled radish,
garlic stems, and terrible, freshly-made kimchi (just FYI -
kimchi is supposed to be fermented for a long while to be good).

Our second shipment arrived Tuesday, and man was that a nightmare. 65% of the things Erik had in his American home (which was 50% larger than our current apartment) were shipped over, plus a few of my things. Erik described the task of trying to fit everything inside our apartment as "jenga-ing" things into place (super accurate description). We also found out we can't get rid of any of the furniture that came with the apartment, so we have to get creative and repurpose things (e.g. using a TV stand as part of a new bed frame in the guest room). After two days of intense unpacking and sorting and organizing, the space is starting to feel liveable. For those of you familiar with Erik's "room of shame", he now has a "balcony of shame" where all his unorganized military and sporting gear will live for the next year (I just block it out with curtains...).

Last night Erik and I were invited upstairs for tea by Wungshik, whom Erik aptly describes as Ganseong's resident socialite. Wungshik speaks English very well and, since he lives in the same building the US soldiers are housed in, he has taken it upon himself to familiarize the soldiers with the region and its people (including the grumpy ajoo-ma [old woman] on the second floor, whom we have yet to meet!). Wungshik is married to a very nice woman who also knows some English, but is soft-spoken. Today he took us out for gimbap for lunch and on Saturday (Boxing Day in Canada) he is going to take us to Sokcho, the biggest city nearby (about a 20 minute drive south of us). Wungshik's parents are going to have us over on Saturday night for steamed crab (yum!).

Tonight Erik and I will be setting up our Christmas tree (he brought one over - woohoo!), playing board games, and indulging in the pomegranate soju I picked up at the market today. Note: I do not like regular soju (it tastes too much like vodka to me) but I love the fruit-flavoured soju. So if you're ever in Korea, don't despair if you don't like the traditional stuff - there are other options!

Fruit flavoured soju! Blue is blueberry, red is pomegranate,
and yellow is lemon. I've also seen peach and orange flavours!

I'll post a picture of our Christmas tree and Christmas presents and Christmassy us sometime soon, along with a video tour of our apartment! I'm also working on posts about all the feelings I've been processing in regards to leaving Ottawa and about my adventures on the west coast prior to coming to Korea - so stay tuned, folks!

It's been a couple of years since I last posted. I'm writing tonight because I can't sleep. And I thought about just writing in my personal journal, but this is something that needs to be shared. (I'll apologize in advance for not giving names or details, but you'll understand why I avoid this and hopefully still take something away from this post even without all the context.)

There's this awful quotation I ran across once:

“Heroes. Idols. They're never who you think they are. Shorter. Nastier. Smellier. And when you finally meet them, there's something that makes you want to choke the shit out of them” (attributed to Paul Beatty). 

I never really understood this sentiment until tonight - what could someone labelled a "hero" (especially in your own eyes) do to make you want to choke them? Well, all they have to do is disappoint you.

In my current job I've been fortunate to meet a number of my personal "heroes". I put heroes in quotation marks because these people are not widely known or sitting on laurels or running into burning buildings. But they became heroes to me because of what they thought, what they wrote, and what they advocated for. To me they were gamechangers. Rethinking the way society functions. Challenging the status quo.

It's one thing to watch your heroes from a distance. It's another thing to get onto the playing field with them. Up close I now see the seams in the "do-gooder" image of these people that I spent years cultivating in my mind. They're humans and (shocker) amongst all of their good qualities they also have less appealing qualities like fear, greed, ignorance, jealousy, deceptiveness... the list goes on. 

Tonight I'm trying to work through being angry at my heroes for their actions and human traits. For pursuing things not because they're the best option or the right things to pursue, but because it's safer. For trying to stop things they believe are not possible, before even giving these things a chance to get started. For speaking about half-truths as full truths. For advocating selectively. For putting on blinders and assuming their experience is the only experience. The right experience. The experience everyone should be listening to.

You know, if I didn't have my own experience I wouldn't be so worked up. But the truth is, my experience challenges what some of my heroes are saying. My experience tells me they aren't painting a fair picture. There is some truth to what they say, yes, but it's being generalized as the whole truth. And I disagree. Heck, I know some of the people they're speaking on behalf of disagree! Of course, these people haven't been asked what their opinion of the situation is. And I can almost guarantee that if they were, and if they answered honestly going against what my heroes have said, my heroes would argue they were being coached, or didn't understand the question, or didn't understand what they "really" wanted (even though personal choice is a human right). If their choice didn't jive with the "truth" my heroes would probably reject it.

 Why are my heroes doing this? I keep asking myself this question. The conclusions I come to are equally upsetting:

1. They are innocently ignorant. They simply haven't seen the areas of grey that exist in the topic they're addressing, and as result they honestly believe the situation is black and white. This is upsetting because a) most older, intellectual, well-adjusted people understand that situations are rarely black and white (have I been idolizing people who don't?!) and b) missing out on these experiences of "grey areas" means they've missed out on a wonderful opportunity to better understand human diversity (which makes me sad for them). 
2. They are willfully ignorant. They understand that their stance on the issue is one-sided and does not acknowledge a diversity of realities and experiences. This is upsetting because a) it discredits lived experiences (of those they claim to advocate on behalf of, no less), b) it advocates for a "one-size-fits-all" solution (even though we know this doesn't work in practice EVER), and c) it could result in the destruction of a multiplicity of approaches in favour of a single approach based on a singular (and arguably flawed) "truth". The worst part is that if what they're advocating for happens, it would specifically support the growth of the organizations they run. I'm not against their organizations. They do great work. I would love to see them grow. But not at the expense of other organizations that offer value as well, just using a different approach. That's selfish. And it's the worst part because I never, ever wanted to view my heroes as selfish. 

I can't totally blame them if either of the above situations (or some combination of the two) is true. I'm realizing that as an advocate you're expected to pick a side. Fence-sitting is not okay, because people expect a straightforward "this is wrong, this is how we right it" response. I don't know if I'll ever be a great advocate, because I'm getting worse and worse at generalizing. I don't think this is a bad thing inherently (I'm learning to appreciate that there are a diversity of experiences, perceptions, truths, etc.) but it makes delivering a hardline message really difficult. It makes delivering clear messaging difficult. What's right for one person is wrong for another, so I can't stand up and say "this one thing is right" - because it's only right in a certain context. How will people ever follow what the heck I'm actually advocating for? 

I guess what I advocate for is options. For choice. For creating spaces in which a variety of options can be talked about and realized. Not to the detriment of anyone else, but so that every person can choose the most "right" thing for them. Sometimes this might mean having support to make those choices, but the important thing is that the choices are there and presented to the person in a way that makes sense to them. In our current social and economic environment, what I advocate for is unpopular (to put it mildly). Creating multiple options costs money (and our economy is not doing well) and it also demands that people stop forcing their values onto others to allow room for choice (the ongoing pro-life/pro-choice debate illustrates how difficult this is to overcome). 

So after getting all this off of my chest, where does this leave me? I'm less angry than I was. My heroes are people, not flawless idols - they're bound to do things I disagree with or that make me uncomfortable. I don't value their former contributions any less, but I will absolutely look more critically at the things they say and do in the future. 

It's also a bit of a red flag. Every time I choose to be an advocate I'll have to make choices about messaging. My messages will not always represent everyone. I will likely make some people extremely angry. I'm just hoping I remember to listen to the multiple truths out there when they are raised, and don't jump to telling anyone they're absolutely wrong. If someone is part of a group I'm advocating with or for, their experience is imperative to informed and considerate advocacy. 

Lastly, if anyone ever looks to me as a "hero" I hope I remember to remind myself of my humanity and to forgive myself for it. Before they get close enough to see my seams. And after I disappoint them.

The Tag Alongs: A Very Delayed Part 2

So it has been 8 months since I last posted. And I had originally promised to post again later in the week. Well, don't get me wrong, I tried (multiple times) but was really having trouble finding the right words to encapsulate everything I was going through mentally, physically, and emotionally. But here I am, 8 months later, and I'm about ready to start writing again.

So here's the breakdown of what you've missed:
- I was away from school until November treating the dysentery. I ended up being accepted as a patient at the Tropical Disease Research Unit in Toronto. I visited Toronto a few times between November and February and during December I literally had medical testing of some sort to attend to every couple of days (which isn't easy when you're trying to write exams). I found out the following:

1) When shigellosis is found the lab has to do two rounds of testing on the cultures they obtain, just to be sure. The second round of tests showed that I DID NOT have dysentery (although this is likely what I had in Ghana). E. coli looks frighteningly similar to shigella bacteria, so I probably had an E. coli infection. Anyway, these results were obtained two days into my treatment period on cipro, but the lab forgot to contact me. Or call my doctor. So I was treated for something I didn't have. Luckily cipro is a generalized antibiotic, so it ended up killing whatever bacteria had actually taken up residence in my digestive tract.

2) I had also contracted schistosomiasis. "Schisto" is a parasite that you can pick up from swimming, bathing, or drinking contaminated water. It can cause restless nights, fevers, and sweating because they are mostly active at night. They also cause you to crave starch and sugars, because this is what they feed on. So that explains a number of the symptoms I was still experiencing post-cipro treatment. To be honest, I was lucky to only have a mild case. I swam multiple times in Ghana (I couldn't resist the waterfalls!), used the water for brushing my teeth (it was apparently treated in Hohoe, although I continued to use the water once I was in Tamale despite not knowing how safe it was), and I definitely drank out of the tap in Tamale too (I had heat stroke after visiting Abdul-Malik's family and walking down the street for a bag of water just wasn't happening).

3) I do not have HIV. I did not contract malaria. However, I could be carrying a dormant version of malaria that may become active within the next two to three years, so I'm supposed to be cautious if I feel like I'm coming down with a flu.

- When I returned to school I discovered I was eligible for "disability" status due to my longstanding health issues. This simply means the university will allow me to write my exams in a private room near a washroom where I can eat and drink and take breaks as needed during my exams. They'll also help facilitate postponed exams if I ever happen to miss exams due to illness again. If you have a health condition that makes three hour exam periods stressful, I would seriously advise looking into what options your university has to accommodate you--it can make a world of difference!

- I managed to finish my semester without dropping any courses (although four out of five of my professors suggested this would be academic suicide). I even wrote a paper about shigellosis and drug-resistant bacteria as a globalization movement, which got a much-needed "Excellent work, McCuaig" from Professor Mark Salter (although I still question if he was commenting on my writing skills or my ability to fight tropical disease). On top of that I was able to maintain my average so I didn't lose my scholarship. Looking back I honestly have no idea how I managed to do this. (Shout outs to adrenaline, genetic coding, and bullheadedness!)

- Second semester utterly exhausted me. Plus I was living in perpetual fear of getting sick again. I managed to curb this by focusing my energy on exercise and well-being. I also needed to change my thought process. As a visual thinker I decided the best way to do this would be to start a visual art project that I could contribute to every time I was feeling less than magnificent. I decided to create a wall of gratitude. I made a sign that says "Today I am thankful for..." and stuck it on my wall. Every time I'm feeling really awful about something I sit down and think of something that makes me happy, or helps the world, or allows me to live comfortably. Then I write it out or draw it and stick it up on the wall. Now every day when I wake up the first thing I see is a wall full of colour and thanks. It reminds me to keep things in perspective and to think positively.

A lot of other things happened, but I'm ready to move on from the past so let's look at my present. Today I woke up and went to work at the Assembly of First Nations, an NGO that acts as a representative to the federal government on behalf of indigenous nations within the state of Canada. I started working there at the beginning of May as part of my university co-op program. My official job title is Assistant Policy Analyst and Strategist, but because I work at an NGO this essentially means I help out wherever needed. The main project I'm working on deals with First Nation governance and jurisdiction over determination of citizenship. The AFN's work is mandated by resolutions passed by indigenous Chiefs from across Canada, and last year they voted in favour of the AFN facilitating a national dialogue on First Nation citizenship, with the objective of generating ideas and strategies on ways to lobby the federal government to essentially scrap "Indian Status" (as outlined in the Indian Act) and allow First Nations to determine their own membership using culturally appropriate methods. I will be posting more about this over the summer, but for more information check out our Citizenship WebPortal herea. For more information on discrimination and gender rights abuses within the Indian Act you should watch the last segment of this episode of First Story (Kudos to Kelvin Redvers' whiteboard skills!).

I have recently decided to postpone my schooling until January 2012 after the Assembly offered to extend my contract until December. Although this decision caused me a lot of anxiety initially (it totally de-railed my 5-year plan, yet again!), I am feeling confident that my choice to stay is the right one. I love the people I work with, I have learned more in two months on the job than I did in two years of university, and I come home at night feeling good about what I'm doing. I've developed/improved a ton of skills, including learning how to use web content management systems, webcasting equipment, and teleprompter technology, boosting my graphic design capabilities, and pulling together briefings and condensed content descriptions within short deadlines. Plus I'm learning a lot about indigenous cultures and my own country that I never knew before. I'm even picking up some basics in a couple of indigenous languages.

The best part of my new job is the work environment. Last week we hosted a First Nations veterans' meeting so my day began and ended with a prayer and a drum circle. I can't even begin to describe the sensation of having drum beats and singing voices reverberating in your veins first thing in the morning. It gave me this incredible energy and inexplicable sense of calm that lasted throughout the day, despite a number of stressful situations arising. Over the weekend I attended my first real Pow Wow, and the only thing I didn't love was my inability to join in on the intertribal dances. Between the colourful regalia, beautiful ceremonial objects, beating drums, singing, and crowds of dancers, from the tiniest children to the most respected elders, I was in a state of awe. If you ever have the opportunity to attend a Pow Wow I would highly recommend it--it is an exhilarating experience to say the least!

Aside from work I have continued to busy myself with volunteer projects. I have not forgotten about Gbi Special School. In fact, I am in the process of developing a project proposal for the teachers I have partnered with there in regards to their vocational training programme. Stay tuned for more...

The Tag-Alongs: Part 1

It's late, but I can't sleep. The last couple months have been hard on me, but I think I'm finally ready to start sorting things out. I'm sick again, which is probably why I can't sleep. I haven't slept very much lately, so I've spent a lot of nights just tossing, turning, and thinking--about everything. The whole of my life. And 20 years is a long time to sift through. But I won't give you 20 years of thoughts here. This post will be a health update. Reflection will follow, when I have more energy.
To begin with, I have dysentery. I had a whole slew of health problems after returning from Ghana, including digestive issues and weight gain, but all the testing I went through gave me a clean bill of health. So I started eating better, picked up running again, and got a natural detox going (just to be sure I didn't have any microscopic passengers tagging along from Ghana). It didn't take long before my old jeans fit again and I was back on top of my game. I was ecstatic! Then last Friday, out of the blue, I was doubled over in pain trying to serve customers at my new job. By 8:30 I was sitting in Ottawa General with my poor sister-in-law waiting to see a doctor. I was so dehydrated from being sick I thought I might pass out. I felt bad for the doctor they sent in to see me, he was a resident and obviously had no idea what he was getting into when he asked for my medical history. He furiously scribbled away for half an hour while I rambled on about all the different things I'd been diagnosed with in the past. The tests they took were horrible. The nurse kept poking my right arm but all my veins were dried up from dehydration so she couldn't get any blood out of them for samples. She then moved to my left, at which point I got queasy feeling. Her response to my warning of a potential "man-down!" was "Just think happy thoughts!" She seemed genuinely disappointed when she asked what I was thinking about and I said "Nothing. My head feels like a bubble." She then requested if I could please try not to pass out on my way back to the waiting room. My condition had only worsened, they had not given me an IV, and yes, as shocking as this may sound, they were sending me home because they just didn't have room for me and according to the head doctor "It's not our problem". I walked out of the hospitable at 2:30 AM wondering whose problem it was...
I went to my brother's for the night so I didn't have to be alone and decided to travel home the next day with his family despite intentions to stay in Ottawa over Thanksgiving. I couldn't look after myself and had no family left in town that weekend to rely on. The trip back to Peterborough was one of the longest I'd ever made, including all the Greyhound milk-runs I've been on through the years. We had to keep stopping when I felt sick, my niece was grumpy from pulling her first all-nighter, and my nephew didn't understand why we weren't "there yet". The comfort of arriving home didn't last long though. At 3AM my mom rushed me to Peterborough Emergency, my second home, because I was in so much pain. I went through the ropes again. The waiting, the medical history, the waiting, the testing, the waiting... But this time I was rewarded: HELLO SALINE INFUSION! It only took three tries to get the IV in (a new record by Canadian healthcare professionals-I currently look like a junkie I have so many holes and bruises up my arms) and then sweet, sweet, bliss! (Saline is one of my best friends to date, although I'm hoping we see each other less often in the future.)
I returned home on Sunday with a little more pep and hope that I would get some news soon about my condition. Thursday rolled around. I was still sick and I still hadn't heard anything. So I called my doctor, who was on vacation. I called his on-call, who isn't open all day Thursday or at all on Fridays. So I called the on-call's on-call, who is open all day but only answers the phone between 7-10 AM and 2-4PM. Fed up, I called Emerge and asked to speak to the "Charged Physician", which I was told isn't usually okay, but I must've sounded desperate enough that the operator put me through. The doctor on-duty put me on hold while he went down to the lab to personally look for my file, which they "forgot" to send to my doctor or call me about. Turns out I have a shigella bacterial infection, causing dysentery. The doctor figures its the same infection I had while I was in Ghana, but the doctors there only gave me enough treatment to put the little guys in remission. Last Friday was their "Welcome Back" party (don't be offended if you weren't invited, the party games sucked). The doctor had never seen a two-month lapse before, but then again, he'd never had me for a patient either. He wrote me a prescription for ciprofloxacin and asked me to stay in town due to my bad track record with antibiotics.
I also found out that, in Canada, shigella infection is considered a rare disease. By law, the hospital had to report my case to the Public Health Unit, who then had to report to the government. I also received a home visit from a nurse so she could write up a report on my condition and inform me as to how I should proceed. Essentially, read the info packet on shigella that was downloaded off the internet and wash your hands lots. It was very enlightening!
I am now off school for another week, after already missing a week and three midterms, while I wait to see whether or not these antibiotics work. I'm not getting my hopes up--these are the same antibiotics I was on in Ghana, and shigella are known to build resistance to treatment, especially after multiple drug exposures. The cipro has already started to wreak havoc on my stomach, which constantly aches when empty. To try and counteract the terrorization of my gut I'm downing a 50 billion count acidophilus capsule once a day (the highest dose you can legally obtain). I like to think of them as my little mercenary team.
Today was a better day. I didn't nap once, got through some homework, and was able to take my dog for a walk without feeling like I was going to collapse. I also ate a veggie burger and a piece of apple pie--it sure beat broth and jello!
On the upside I am incredibly thankful that I am at home where I can get treatment for this sickness, even if it is slow-moving. Dysentery kills numerous people every day who simply can't afford, or don't have access to, treatment, healthcare, hygiene education, or sanitation facilities. I have all these things, along with an amazing support team made up of all those I love. There are a lot of sick people in the world who have no one but medical staff to rely on and illness is scary enough without having to go through it alone. I'm really one of the lucky ones, and that's what I'll think about next time anyone asks me to "think happy thoughts". Also, I would take a hundred cases of dysentery before I would ever regret traveling to Ghana, so if you're thinking about traveling overseas to learn something about the world, don't let this stop you! A little infection is a small price to pay for a wealth of knowledge. Shigella is just one of the many exciting things I brought home from Ghana, so be sure to read my follow up in a couple days!

Sweet dreams world...

Ghana Photo Slideshow

This is a selection of some of the photos I took while in Ghana. I have decided not to post any photos of Gbi Special School yet because those photos will eventually be posted on the website I am creating for them. I hope you enjoy!

The Follow-Up

So I've realized that I'm not yet totally prepared to write a post about my feelings upon returning home to Canada from Ghana, but what I can do is tell you about my last days in Accra, which ended up being pretty amazing.

As it turned out I wasn't alone at the Crystal Hostel, I was just the only one staying in the main house with Seth and Auntie (the couple that owns the hostel). Outside were two other guest houses, one of which had a rooftop pavilion overlooking Accra where I spent a lot of time journaling, doing beadwork, and hanging out with the "vicious" guard dogs. Some really cool people were also staying at the hostel including a musician who was collaborating with locals artists on an album, a film-maker, a student writing his thesis on the evolution of childhood in Ghana, and a group of girls from London who were trekking across Ghana to learn leadership skills and build self-confidence. I ended up eating breakfast with the English girls both mornings and helping them plan different excursions around Accra. They were spending 28 days in Ghana and had already travelled through 11 villages and worked on various community projects and participated in a number of cultural activities. What I thought was really cool about their trip was that these girls were only 15-18 years old and were in total control of everything that happened. They had 3 adult chaperones but they were responsible for managing their budget, finding transportation, planning activities, and looking for food and lodging. They took everything one day at a time and would wake up each morning to decide where they would go that day. I was really impressed with how mature they all seemed!

On the Monday I spent my morning doing beadwork and then caught a tro tro through Kaneshie Station to Osu. I met up with Sophia and her roommate Marine and we headed to a new Thai Restaurant called Zion. The restaurant is owned by a legit Thai woman and her cooking is SUPERB! If you plan on heading to Accra I would highly recommend this place, especially if you're vegetarian (she had real tofu!!). After lunch I browsed around Global Mamas and got some shea butter products, wrote an extensive apology email to Ms. Francois at New Horizon Special School and then grabbed a massive salad from Frankie's for dinner before heading back to Darkuman. This fellow named Delight (the names in Ghana are wonderful!) helped me catch the right tro tro back to Kaneshie and was definitely one of the nicer guys I met during my time in Ghana. He was really disappointed to hear that I was leaving the next day and made sure to give me three different phone numbers where I could reach him the next time I came back to Accra. Even though I have held onto these numbers most Ghanaians change their phone numbers on a regular basis so I'm not going to hold out too much hope that they will still be valid two or three years from now!
I got lost after reaching Kaneshie Station and picking a cab to Darkuman because the streets have no names in the neighbourhood I was staying in and I had not memorized my way around the complex maze of roads and back alleys overnight. I ended up calling Seth who directed my cabbie to a filling station and sent his buddy NaNa over to meet me. NaNa is this really friendly guy who owns a craft shop behind the Crystal Hostel. Apparently Auntie and Seth really helped him get back on his feet after a difficult time and he's become very close friends with them, helping them out whenever he can. Aside from leading me back to the hostel in one piece he also called one of his buddies and organized a ride to the airport for me for the following night. I was so grateful for his help! That night I called mom and dad to let them know the cockroaches were the biggest threat at Crystal Hostel and I would be able to happily stay there for another night. I slept like a friggin' log.

Tuesday got off to a crazy start. The English girls talked to me over breakfast about costs for chartering vans and were disappointed to hear that the driver they had been using for the last three days had been hugely ripping them off and lying to them left, right, and centre about the costs of driving in Ghana. I told them they should definitely re-negotiate prices for the next leg of their journey so when their driver arrived that morning four of the girls approached him about bringing down his price. The driver was not happy and was definitely the rudest and most aggressive business person I ever encountered while in Ghana. The girls offered him more than necessary for a 3 hour drive to their next destination considering he was driving a rusted out box with no luggage room, broken windows, no A/C, and broken signal lights, but he wouldn't budge on his initial price. First he tried to guilt trip them explaining how he was a poor man just trying to scrape by in this awful world. When that didn't work he accused them of being racist, which was amusing considering the group consisted of three white girls, two black girls, and about 10 brown girls. His next move was to tell them that they were being horrible Christians and God would smite them for their greed and meanness. At this point he was screaming at them and Daryl (the girls' male chaperone) got involved. The driver began outright insulting Daryl calling him every name under the sun and making very aggressive gestures towards him. I told the other girls to forget this driver, even if he came down in price he couldn't be trusted and didn't deserve their business after being so rude. I sent them over to NaNa to find a new driver with a better vehicle and fairer pricing. NaNa came over a few moments later to try and calm this guy down. The driver then ran inside the hostel to tattle to Seth and look for back-up. An intense debate ensued and the driver lunged at NaNa and Daryl repeatedly while Seth tried to calm everybody down. NaNa was just laughing at the foolishness of this driver and then left to bring the girls' new driver over. It took almost an hour to get this disgruntled driver off the property but the girls were then placed in much better hands, which made me happy. I said goodbye to them and wished them luck on the rest of their journey before hopping on a tro tro to the University of Accra at Legon.

My plan was to spend the day wandering through the botanical garden where I could spend time reflecting on my trip and collect some of my thoughts before leaving. I also wanted to check out the library (the largest and oldest in West Africa), the bookstore, and the Museum of Archaeology, which houses some of the skeletons of pre-human species and has been heavily involved in the human genome project. As usual, my plan quickly fell apart (all a part of some greater power trying to teach me the benefits of being flexible)! I arrived on campus and headed in the direction the Bradt Guide indicated the Botanical Gardens should be. Along the way I stopped students to double check I was headed the right way (this campus is huge and really stunningly beautiful). One of these students happened to be Gideon who decided not only would he show me the way but, like a helpful Ghanaian should, he would give me a full-fledged guided tour of the Gardens. At first this really ticked me off because I had come here specifically for alone time, but I had been reading "Me to We" and decided to embrace their reminder about the importance of gratitude and be thankful for the company. Gideon spent most of our walk grilling me on Canadian culture, politics, and my personal life--he was extremely interested in learning about a foreign country. What I found amusing was he frequently spoke as though he knew Canada saying things like "It is such a beautiful country", "the people are so friendly", and "I love Toronto". When I asked if he had traveled there he said "Yes, somehow." He hadn't of course, but in general Ghanaians do not like to admit to not knowing things, so he acted as though he had been to Canada and knew the country. He also pretended he knew his way around the Gardens and managed to get us lost 3 times. His third strike was asking about my favourite kind of pet, to which I replied "Chinchillas". He said he also loved chinchillas, but when asked what they looked like he said he had forgotten so I laughed and explained what they were. I then decided it would be a good time to tell him that he didn't have to pretend to know everything--nobody knows everything! I felt bad that Ghanaians were always so afraid of being judged if they got something wrong or didn't have an answer. I was constantly reassuring people that admitting to a gap in knowledge or asking questions wouldn't cost them our friendship! After our walk, which included seeing the experimental farm, the fish breeding grounds in the man-made lake, and the donkeys and horses in the orchard, I bought Gideon lunch to thank him for his kindness and help. After lunch he insisted on taking me to the internet cafe so I could see his family. I was hesitant because my time was almost up and I hadn't done half of what I had planned but he insisted so off we went. After looking at hundreds of photos of his mother, father, nieces, nephews, and 6 sisters and being told repeatedly that I would "know them very well soon" and "meet them in the near future" we finally signed off and headed out. He then wanted me to meet his friends so he took me over to the boys' dormitory, which by the way reeked of urine. He took me into this one room where two of his friends were standing in their underwear to introduce me. Out in the hall boys were cat-calling at me and Gideon was happily accepting the high-fives and suggestive comments from them. I was very uncomfortable and told him I was leaving. We said our goodbyes and I quickly ran off to the bookstore where I indulged my obsession with classic literature at half the price I can pull off in Canada. I never made it to the library or the museum.

Back at the tro tro stop I stood around for 45 minutes while tro tro after tro tro passed by me full of people. I was getting anxious because it was after 3 PM and I knew the tro tro ride back to the hostel would take over an hour. My ride to the airport was going to be picking me up at 6 PM and before then I had to finish packing, shower, eat dinner, and settle my bill. In desperation I sent out a prayer and to my astonishment it was answered only moments later! A taxi pulled up with two young guys and a girl in it. They asked where I was going and told me they could take me to Achimota Station. I kept asking how much because if you don't negotiate a price BEFORE getting in the vehicle cab drivers will frequently rip you off. They just laughed and said "Don't worry, it's free"! I found this hard to believe but didn't have much choice at that point so I took a leap of faith and hopped in. To my surprise the guy in the front passenger's seat was listening to an iPhone and when he started up a conversation used North American sarcasm and humour. He introduced himself as Mol and told me the driver, Selorm, was his buddy and the girl in the back seat, Karen, was his daughter, which confused the hell out of me because she was so close to his age! I just assumed he meant he had a young daughter with the same name as this girl (Ghanaians frequently refer to those around them with family titles if they have the same name as one of their family members despite lacking any biological relation--for example a man in Hohoe had a sister named Jessica so he always referred to me as his "little sister" and he became my "big brother"). This assumption turned out to be very wrong. Mol realized I was confused and explained that the three of them had grown up in a Christian Community just beyond Achimota. In essence this community was a squatter's settlement where everyone lived in complete poverty. Mol had grown up working odd jobs to put himself through school and was so passionate about the people in his community that at 20 years of age he founded an NGO called Global Ghana Youth Network to assist the kids who struggled so much. Mol provided schooling to these kids 5 days a week, gave them clothing and shoes to wear, and provided them with two meals a day. He referred to Karen as his daughter because he had literally raised her over the past 5 years. Today his organization supports more than 75 street children in Accra and has attracted volunteers and sponsors from around the globe. Most of Mol's support came from the U.S. where he used to travel to frequently to give educational seminars on poverty in Accra and raise funds for his project. Unfortunately much of this support has ceased following the economic crisis and Mol is struggling to keep the program together while jumping through hoops to gain registered charity status under the 501 (C) Bill in the U.S. Soon we were talking about the possibility of him traveling to Canada in the coming year to give presentations to various community and University organizations I had connections to and he was giving me advice on how to proceed in starting up a Vocational Training Foundation for the students at Gbi Special School. I could not believe my good fortune at having been the one to climb into this cab! We exchanged contact information and when I tried to hand Mol gas money for the ride he refused saying "What goes around will come around" and climbed out of the cab to hug me goodbye and wish me a safe journey home. Mol, Selorm, and Karen were each so inspirational and so incredibly self-less. I'm blessed to have been able to stay in touch with them since arriving home and we email back and forth almost every other day. I would highly encourage everyone following this blog to take a moment to check out Global Ghana Youth Network's website because they are doing amazing things in Accra!
Global Ghana Youth Network:
http://www.ggyn.org/

I didn't get back to the hostel until after 5 PM and quickly scarfed dinner, showered, and packed. I was pretty impressed that I managed to fit everything into one suitcase (minus my drum)! I settled my bill (only $40GH for two nights, three meals, and bottled water! I would highly recommend the Crystal Hostel to anyone traveling to Accra on a tight budget!) and ran out to say goodbye to NaNa and catch my cab. The drive to the airport took an hour and a half including a ten minute stop at the grocery store for airplane snacks. Check-in was pretty quick, thank goodness, but I had to laugh as I watched a bunch of Ghanaians cutting lines and the reactions of disgruntled diplomats and ex-pats waiting patiently to enter our flight gate!

The flight to Frankfurt was an interesting one, mostly due to my seat partner, a Ghanaian guy who looked at least 25 and who was traveling with his sister and mother seated in front of us. His concept of personal space was non-existent. To go to sleep he constructed a tent using his blanket, swung his legs over the arm rest between us, and settled his elbow into my ribs. To top it all off he would occasionally peak out of his tent and glare at me as though my presence were preventing him from getting his beauty rest. At meal times (despite having only a six hour flight we managed to have supper and breakfast!) he would trade food items over the seats with his mother and sister, frequently spilling. His most glorious moment arrived when the plane hit turbulence. His response was to undo his seat belt, stand, jump up and down, hit the seats, and shout at his mother in excited Twi. I swear every eye in economy class seating was trained on him and I got a few pitying looks from the elderly ladies across the aisle from me. For his sake I hope it was his first time on an airplane and he was just overexcited about the novelty of hitting air pockets.

During my 7 1/2 hour layover in Frankfurt I played some sudoku, read a mac magazine, and spent almost three hours spilling my guts into my journal. I realized that I had a lot of pent up emotion from my trip and now that I was finally alone and in an environment separate from my experiences all of the emotions were swelling and tearing through me.

To be honest I still haven't been able to sort out how I feel, so until I do I will avoid posting about it. I was overwhelmed with happiness to be back on Canadian soil where I understand the people better and can function within the culture without making a million misjudgements or mistakes every time I turn around. Since getting back home I have spent a lot of time talking with friends and family about my experiences and I am often upset to discover that I tend to dwell on the more challenging things I confronted in Ghana, rather than the pleasant things. The pleasant things are just so easy to accept and I never needed to come to terms with them, whereas the negative experiences I had currently lie in a grey area and I was never given an opportunity to reflect on them or attempt to deal with them while in Ghana. One thing I can say is this trip opened my eyes in ways I never anticipated. I saw both the beauty and the darkness of Ghana, which I am so thankful for. My views on development and westernization have become much more complex and I am now sure that my life is headed in the right direction.

The question I am always asked is "Will you go back?" My simple answer is "Yes". I fell in love with the kids at Gbi Special School and made some really amazing friends in Ghana--I can't imagine having to go through life without seeing them again. My more complicated answer is "No". Because the person I am right now won't go back. The next time I travel to Ghana I hope that the person I am will have grown into something better. I will have to make sure to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for being completely unprepared for what I am about to walk into. I will have to figure out better ways of coping with my frustrations and my failures. I will have to accept how little I know about the world around me, and I will have to be okay with it. I will have to drop my judgmental attitude and take more time to stand in the shoes of those I meet.

In conclusion, I have a lot of traveling to do to places within myself before I will be ready to travel to places outside of myself again.

A Note on CCFC & The Last Post from Ghana!

So this is a little delayed but I just wanted to say a couple things about the Christian Children's Fund Canada program in Ghana. First of all, the staff here are absolutely amazing and totally dedicated to making the lives of these children a little bit better. They literally spend hours upon hours hunting hundreds of kids down in their communities to deliver letters and messages from donors abroad and send word back on how the kids are faring.

Secondly, the program is extremely well organized considering the lack of infrastructure in Ghana. They partner with community programs to service those families most in need with programs that are relevant to the culture and lifestyle of the area. In Abdul-Malik's community CCFC is partnered with Gumani Family and Child Care Program which not only looks out for the most needy kids in Gumani through the sponsorship program but also runs a number of community support projects. They organize educational workshops for the children in the community schools, fundraise and find grants from international bodies to support community facilities, and run a credit union that provides microloans to entrepeneurs and farming families. The women's cooperative is only one of the many businesses that has started as a result of the microloan program and now includes over 20 members. These ladies sat with me and spoke with such pride about the success of their business processing rice and producing shea butter. Currently they do everything by hand, but they were happy to tell me that they have been able to build a warehouse to work in along with a eletric motor and two grinding machines to expand business! They are now financially independent and able to support their families during seasons of poor harvest yields (which is happening more and more frequently due to the torrential rains and desertification of the north--the ground is deteriorating into sand and clay so when the rainy season arrives the water just sits on top of the land and drowns the crops). The women also mentionned how thrilled they were at being able to give their children things they always wanted but never had--like an education and a small treat from time to time. This sentiment really got to me because I hear parents in Canada say this all the time, it's one of the many universal feelings I have become more aware of during my time in Ghana.

Third, the organization IS talking about changing their name from Christian Children's Fund to just "Children's Fund" because having a religious affiliation has caused some major misconceptions about their organization. CCFC works for families from a variety of religious backgrounds. Their mission is not a prejudiced one, they simply want to help those who need it most. In Abdul-Malik's community 70% of the families in the program are Muslim, with the other 30% a combination of Christian and traditional tribal sects. I found this really reassuring and relieving.

Lastly, CCFC works in tandem with other international NGOs like UNICEF and World Vision to ensure that services do not overlap in any community. If World Vision is already serving one community in Ghana CCFC will look for a community that is not being supported to work in. This makes their programming a lot more efficient.

The thing that surprised me the most about my visit with Abdul-Malik was the incredulous looks on the faces of his peers as I pulled up to the school and the disbelief his family showed when shaking my hand. After our visit I asked the CCFC staff about whether or not my visit would make Abdul-Malik's friends jealous because very few sponsors ever visit (I was the first one here since spring of last year!). They just laughed and said no, absolutely not. My visit would do many things: it would raise the status of Abdul-Malik and his family in the community, it would raise the status of his school, but most importantly it would shatter the myth that sponsors don't really exist! HUH?! Apparently people in Ghana think the entire sponsorship program is a complicated hoax. They believe money is sent to the programs by faceless organizations and governments and then "sponsor families" are created to make them think somebody out there actually cares about their well being. This broke my heart, especially since many families refuse to participate fully in the program based on grounds of mistrust. It is often a struggle to get families to write response letters because they think they are just sitting in the staff office and being replied to by other Ghanaians. So my appearance in the community was a shock--they didn't believe I was really coming because they didn't believe I existed! I'm hoping my appearance will boost the trust in CCFC's programs and will send the message that people from North America DO care about their brothers and sisters in Africa.

All this being said, I would just like to note that I now fully endorse CCFC as a worthwhile organization to support. If you are interested in sponsoring a child and their community you should check out their website and consider choosing CCFC! (http://www.ccfcanada.ca/)

So currently I am in Accra, but I have had a crazy week! I made many new friends in Tamale which made my time much more enjoyable. My trip to Mole on Thursday was pretty interesting. I went to the Metro Mass Transit station for 6:00 AM to purchase a seat on the 9:00 AM bus to Damongo, which is a village about 5 km away from Mole. The bus arrived on Ghana time, which means 2 hours late, so we didn't arrive in Damongo until 2:30. (Side note: The road to Mole is not HALF as bad as the Bradt Guide makes it sound. The roads running through Hohoe were much worse!) At the Damongo station I bumped into two German volunteers who had the same plan as I did so we shared a cab to Mole. When we arrived at Mole it turned out I had been placed in a family suite alone, so there were two empty beds in the room. I offered these to the Germans (Dennis and Julia) for the same price as they would pay for a dorm bed and they leapt at the offer, saving me money and ensuring there would be someone to benefit from the included breakfast which I would miss! I was just in time for the 3:30 safari walk around the park. The walk was great and the reserve is absolutely stunning! I didn't see any elephants (although I did see evidence of their existance including tracks, tusk marks, and lots of dung!) but I saw many other creatures including antelope, bush bucks, wart hogs, three different types of monkey, parakeets, and wild hare. I was amazed how close the animals let us get before they would freak out and run away. Apparently the baboons and the wart hogs have become most accustomed to humans--they hang out around the staff community and have been known to seek into homes to steal food if the compound gates are not closed. The children living in the park are forbidden to eat food outside after some of them were attacked by the monkies for it! Most of the park seems untouched by humans though, which I liked. There was a beautiful silence about the whole place. All you could hear were wild animal calls and the grass rustling in the breeze. It was exactly the break from people I so badly needed. My guide was really knowledgeable about everything from animal tracking to national park laws so I learned a lot. Unfortunately he also took the opportunity to flirt incessantly, show off, and hand me his phone number in case I "needed him for anything". I just had to laugh!

My trip back from Mole was a bit of a nightmare. I was woken up at 3:30 AM the next morning to catch the 4:00 AM direct bus from Mole to Tamale, which is essentially a filthy, rusted, metal box on wheels. Myself and a handful of other tourists sleepily piled in and tried to get comfortable in order to catch a little more sleep before daybreak. WISHFUL THINKING! We also stopped to pick up a bunch of park staff and then stopped in Larabanga to fill the rest of the bus with villagers. As people piled in and filled every last square inch a number of fights broke out. Men outside the bus were pushing and shoving our female conductor around trying to get into the bus. Inside the bus a crazy old man was yelling at everybody in Hausa and banging his fists on the seat in front of him--it took half an hour to physically remove him. Then an argument started between the villagers and the park staff over why more buses didn't run through that area. All this at 4 in the morning! We didn't pull out of Larabanga until just before 7:00AM. We had been there for almost 3 hours and we still had to drop people off in Damongo and get through the 3 hour drive back to Tamale. It was brutal! I rested pretty much all day Friday and then went out that night to say goodbye to some local friends I had made. We had drinks at Crest on the rooftop patio under the stars while listening to a live band and doing some dancing. It was a great way to end my stay in Tamale.

I was up early again Saturday morning to catch a 6:30 AM bus to Accra. This time I traveled STC, which meant larger seats, cleaner interior, and A/C! I was in heaven ...at first. Our bus seemed a little dated as it chugged along and struggled to make it to the speed limit. In Kumasi we were stalled for two hours because one of the tires needed to be refilled and rotated. Our rest stops weren't great either offering filthy washrooms and canteens selling cookies and pop. My three meals consisted of digestive cookies and oranges that day. When we reached Accra we were stuck in traffic for over an hour and our driver managed to take the front ends off of three taxis. The main highway running through Accra is currently no more than a dirt runway because city planners thought it would be a good idea to expand and resurface the entire road in one fell swoop. Well, without any sort of lane markers or traffic control this road is now just like a large parking lot where hundreds of accidents occur everyday. Good one Ghana! On top of this we had passengers screaming out "BUS STOP!" (the command commonly used to get tro tros to drop you at the correct location) every 500 metres through town so then we would have to sit and idle while the driver dug through the luggage to find their belongings.

We were supposed to get to Accra at 5:30, but we actually arrived at 10:00. I was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. I caught a cab to the Crystal Hostel where I am now staying. I was dropped in an alleyway in a dark neighborhood and told to walk down a pathway to a metal gate--the hostel apparently. I knocked and yelled "hello!" and was answered by angry guard dogs barking. Finally a lady came to open the gate and showed me into a house. My room was pretty shabby and not very clean. I went to check out the bathroom and two cockroaches scuttled under the wall. I was not in the mood to deal with pests all night. I went to lie down and realized the bed had no sheet on it. At this point I started crying and called my mom. Thank goodness for moms. She somehow managed to calm me down and I promised to get some sleep in hopes of seeing things a little brighter in the morning. And I did! It turns out the sketchy back alley is not the main entrance to this place and the house has a beautiful courtyard out front! The staff are super friendly and served me a lovely breakfast. Plus, the shower is one of the best I have been in while in Ghana. And the guard dogs are actually pretty docile. One of them curled up with me this morning!
Well I'm out of time! See you in Canada on Wednesday!

Movin' On Up

So I officially ended my Cross-Cultural Solutions program on July 23rd and have been in Tamale for the past 4 days. My goodbyes in Hohoe were difficult, and a little too rushed for my liking, but perhaps it was better to have it all happen quickly rather than dwelling on it. My last day at the school was awesome. I took a ton of photos with the kids and staff and despite all the hugging and "farewell for now"s it seemed like more of a celebration and a temporary goodbye than anything else. A couple of my girls cried, which broke my heart, but I reassured them I would be back to visit one day and that I would stay in touch through letters and photos in the meantime. And I meant it--despite all the challenges Ghana has handed me since I arrived here the kids at Gbi Special School made it all worth it. They made me fight to get better quickly when I was in the hospital and stopped me from booking a flight home early multiple times. They are the one thing I have never lost faith in while I have been here, and I would never fathom leaving such amazing relationships behind once I get back home. Just before I left the school I handed out lollipops to all the kids, which caused complete chaos. The processing company of those suckers definitely gets the award for most child-proof packaging--not a good thing considering I had 100 of those lollipops to open up. Anyway, it was a good time and I left feeling happy only having shed tears of joy.
I left for Tamale on a 3AM bus Saturday morning. My first leg of the journey was from Hohoe to Kumasi and took about 7 hours. It wasn't so bad because the bus was pretty empty and I was able to nap a little across some of the seats. The second half, from Kumasi to Tamale, was insanity. The bus was full, every seat taken and the aisles piled full of people's things including bulk packages of food. I had to bribe the driver $5GH just to make sure my luggage made it into the storage compartments underneath. And, of course, I ended up in a seat right between the two largest ladies on the bus. So I really had more of 1/2 a seat and was unable to move during the entire 8 hour bus ride up to Tamale. On the bright side I met two really friendly people who looked out for me--Valentine (a student from Rwanda who is studying Tourism, Hospitality, and Management in Accra) and Victoria (a business woman married to an army sergeant, also from Accra but originally from Tamale).
My first night in Tamale I stayed in a really sketchy place called Las Hotel. The rooms were decent, but pretty rundown, and the building looked like a warehouse inside with really ugly yellow-brown walls. To top it all off the nightclub on the ground-floor had re-opened since the last time the Bradt Guide was updated so there was music blaring and drunk people yelling outside all night long. I whipped out my earplugs for the first time since arriving in Ghana and managed to get a pretty good sleep. The only brownie points the place got was being located beneath the best Chinese Restaurant in town (so I had a really good veggie noodle dish for dinner) and having a receptionist who couldn't do math properly and accidentally forgot to add the VAT taxes to my hotel bill.
On Sunday I moved to The Tamale Institute of Cross Cultural Studies Guesthouse, which is located in a much better neighbourhood, has extremely clean rooms, friendly staff, is less expensive, and has a lovely compound with a courtyard and library full of books on Ghanaian culture and history. It is also right around the corner from Swad Fast Foods, a terrific restaurant with an extensive vegetarian section on the menu. I was in heaven. There are also a ton of international travelers who stay at the Guesthouse so I had no trouble finding people to hang out with, which was nice. On my first night I had dinner with a Dane, a Swede, and an Australian and quite enjoyed myself!
Monday was a busy day! I went to meet Abdul-Malik and his family in Tuunaayili, a suburb of Gumani. He has grown up so much since the last time we received a picture of him. No more baby fat and a lot taller than he used to be! He's still adorable though, and his shy mannerisms just make him that much more loveable. Our visit went extremely well and afterward I was taken to meet a women's cooperative that was established as part of a microfinance program that our monthly donations help to support. I will likely post more about Christian Children's Fund and their activities in another blog later today--I was happy to discover the organization is very legitimate and completely transparent. After my adventures I was feeling pretty weak and realized I had sunburned my scalp pretty badly (I had my hair plaited) and was likely suffering from heat stroke so I spent the rest of my day in bed.
Yesterday was pretty low key. I bummed around my room, wrote a really long journal entry, napped, and started my internship report. Last night I went out for dinner at Swad with two girls from Harvard who are here working on thesis papers. They are really nice and I had a lot of fun.
Today I am just going to be running errands and exploring Tamale a little more. It's raining so I'm not really looking forward to walking around outside but oh well! Tomorrow I'm off to Mole to see some elephants and on Saturday I head to Accra! I will likely post a little more later on, so stay tuned!

Immigration Disputes and Kente Cloth

Okay, I'm going to try and make this post brief but I'll pick up from where I left off. On Friday morning I went back out to the school to say a quick hello and to let everyone know I was okay. I was still exhausted however (antibiotics always kick my butt) so I spent the rest of the morning in bed. That afternoon I headed to Ho to have my visa renewed. As of that day it would expire and I would be considered an illegal immigrant in Ghana. I arrived at the immigration office around 2:30 and handed over all my identification to the immigration officers. I had only been in the office for 2 minutes when I was informed that I was being fined for overstaying my visa by two months. My jaw hit the floor. What the heck were they talking about?! They pointed out that I had been given a 60 day stamp on my passport but that the customs official at the airport had written a 12 over top of the 60 and circled it. That meant he had only approved me to stay in the country for 12 days. They had never seen anything like it before, especially with a CCS volunteer, but apparently it is legal to scribble over official documents in Ghana. They were going to fine me $80 GH for each month I had overstayed and $40 GH to have my visa extended. A whopping total of $200 GH that I didn't have to spend. I was livid. I have spent a small fortune on this trip, spent years saving to provide people with my help for free, and this was the way the country's officials said thank you. I quickly got on the phone with my program director, who was just as shocked as I was. Luckily he was friends with each of the immigrations officials and talked them down to a $100 GH charge. I am still pretty upset about the whole thing. Now CCS has to double check everyone's passports to make sure they have at least 30 days granted to be in country. The funniest part is I have been through multiple immigration checkpoints where I needed to present my passport and nobody ever said anything about it. I'm lucky--I could have been arrested on the spot for traveling illegally within the country. Anyway, I'm now allowed to be here until August 16th, although I will be leaving on August 2nd and not a day later if I can help it.
My weekend was pretty dull. I caught up on errands, did laundry, and worked on internship stuff. A new group of volunteers arrived, 17 in total. I was much better prepared for this group than the last. I have listened to their questions and concerns patiently and try my best to empathize with the emotions they are experiencing. I have three new volunteers with me at the Gbi Special School. I wish I could say it is going well, but they are all overwhelmed. I don't think they should have been sent out to the school at this point. School ends next Friday and the teachers are "busy" writing progress reports for parents so classes have been suspended until next term. As such, the school environment has deteriorated back into chaos. My classroom is the only one running lessons because I'm teaching. The new volunteers don't even know where to begin. I've been giving them suggestions and one of the girls is going to join me in my class where things are more tame and will take over once I leave. I'm also hoping that this group will be able to finish up a couple of projects that I started working on but didn't have time to complete thanks to my hospital vacation.
For the rest of the week my placement will be pretty low key. Tomorrow I will be teaching as usual and having a meeting with one of the staff who I am trying to assist with his vocational training program. On Thursday I'm going to get the kids to paint these clay pinch pot bowls I had them make in creative art two weeks ago. On Friday I am just going to play games with the kids, take pictures, hand out treats, and say goodbyes. I can't believe I only have three more days here. It is so surreal.
Yesterday I started kente cloth weaving lessons with a group of local weavers. Weaving on a real loom is much more complex than the frame I got used to weaving on in high school. Yesterday I just got used to the feel of the foot pedals, pulls, and shuttles while working out a simple checker pattern. I finished about 3/4 of a yard in 3 hours. Today I got started on learning kente designs. These are pretty difficult because you have to grab specific threads with your fingers while shooting the shuttle through and switching pedals. My short fingers and small hands don't help the process much. Wilson, my teacher, says I'm a quick learner though and apparently thinks I am a "natural kente master". I hope I don't disappoint. I have had neighbourhood kids watching me too--apparently they have never seen a white person weave OR a woman weave. It reminded me of when I originally went to request a quote for lessons and one weaver asked "Is it for a black man or a white man?" When I said "No, it's for me" he started laughing. When he realized I was serious his eyes just got really big and he looked as if he might pass out. I guess I am shaking things up in Hohoe.
Well, that's about it for excitement so far. My next three days will be super busy so I probably won't post again until after I reach Tamale. Wish me luck!

Be careful what you wish for...

As I had hoped, my trip to Accra was eventful, relaxing at times, and gave me plenty of quiet time to think and regain some of the energy I would need to face another influx of volunteers at the CCS homebase. What I didn't bank on was spending almost an entire week in Accra. Let me explain.
I will begin on Friday morning. I was up at 4:00 AM with Catherine to be driven to the airport in Accra where she would depart for home. George came with us to accompany me to New Horizons School later in the day. Our trip to Accra was fairly smooth despite being pulled over at roadblocks several times (once we were pulled over by a cop with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder simply so he could get my name and tell me how beautiful I was--as flattering as this may sound it was not what I wanted to hear after being woken up at 5:00 in the morning, especially considering he scared the crap out of our driver over nothing). We dropped Catherine at the airport and said our goodbyes. I didn't bawl my eyes out, but I did cry afterward. I wasn't quite sure what to do without my trusty support system beside me anymore.
George and I went and got breakfast at this ridiculously overpriced restaurant after discovering that Vasili's Bakery (this place with great muffins and fresh filtered coffee according to the Bradt Guide) had closed a year earlier. Then I checked in at my hotel and we headed to New Horizons. We met with the secretary, Joycelyn, and were asked to wait in her office until the director, Salome Francois, arrived. After a while I was escorted to her office. She didn't actually arrive until around 12:30, so I sat and watched while the students did wood-working and then practiced a dance number to a fairly catchy Ghanaian song. When she finally called me into her office the first words out of her mouth were "Who are you and why have you come here?" This was another "uh-oh" moment for me. She said that she was really confused as to why I had come to the school, especially since she had no idea who I was or who Cross-Cultural Solutions was. It turns out Joycelyn failed to tell my program director about the proper procedure for requesting a school visit and thought that she had the authority to allow us to enter the property. Miss Francois was not impressed--normally people have to send a letter directly to her explaining their intentions at the school and who they are (which I completely respect considering the vulnerable nature of the individuals that her facility serves). Of course Joycelyn had reassured CCS that our frequent phone communications with her would be enough to be given a tour of the school, so we didn't have a letter and all I could do was apologize profusely and try my best to explain why I was so interested in seeing the school. Miss Francois also seemed a little put off by the fact that I had chosen the CCS program over a volunteer placement at her school and was under the impression that I had come to Ghana to grant money to special needs schools and had chosen a government-funded school over her private school. Unfortunately Miss Francois' husband was ill that day and she needed to accompany him to a clinic to receive an injection of some sort. She said I was welcome to wait until she returned so we could talk further. I waited another 2 hours. Our second meeting went a little better than the first and I was able to clarify why I was in the country, why I had chosen CCS, what my interest in New Horizons School was, and that in the future my education might justify returning to Ghana to perform research at schools like New Horizon. When she realized how much I cared about the students she really warmed to me and she apologized for the mix-up that Joycelyn and CCS had put me in the middle of. She told me about her struggles establishing the school and gave me information on a parents' advocacy group she founded (PACID). I promised to write her an email to better introduce myself and my learning objectives in Ghana with hopes that I could visit the school within the following two weeks.
After the meeting I returned to the hotel, grabbed some food at the restaurant and chatted with a teacher from Ohio who was running away from his career for a year. I wandered around Osu for a bit and bought a bunch of baked goods from Frankie's along with some pretty ripe oranges from a woman at the side of the road (for anyone who has eaten a Ghanaian orange you will also appreciate how rare it is to find a yellow orange). I then proceeded to pig out in front of the T.V. while watching re-runs of American sitcoms. It was heaven.
My friends arrived in Accra late Friday night. On Saturday morning we checked out Koala Supermarket (my mouth was watering at the assortment of food and brands they had) and then headed to a huge African craft market. I must say I now pride myself on my haggling abilities and my knowledge of what things SHOULD cost here. The merchants in the market had really racked up prices and were surprised when I said things like "I have a friend back in Hohoe who could make me the same thing for half that price". I also find that throwing "Get real buddy" into the negotiation really makes the quoted price drop. I managed to buy a good-sized drum with a carrying case for $45GH after originally being asked to pay $80GH (partially thanks to a pricing war between two neighbouring merchants). I was thrilled! That afternoon we went to the Accra Mall and saw Toy Story 3. It was surreal, but very enjoyable. For dinner we headed out to an Indian restaurant and had some top-notch curry dishes with naan. Soooo good! I was exhausted afterward so I opted out of clubbing and headed back to the hotel with Kelly where I passed out pretty early.
Things started to go downhill at 12:30 AM when I woke up and just made it to the washroom in time to avoid being sick all over the hotel room floor. I was up all night and by 6:00 AM I had nothing left in me. I woke Kelly up and told her I needed to go to a hospital--the pain I was experiencing told me this was a bit more serious than food poisoning. While I tried to stop my head from spinning Kelly got on the phone with contacts in Accra and the U.S. Embassy. Everyone recommended the Trust House Hospital, which was conveniently located just down the road from our hotel. I wasn't ready to leave until 9:00AM because I was moving so slow and after the two minute walk to the hospital I felt like I was going to pass out. I layed down in the waiting room while Kelly (bless her heart) looked after my paperwork, paid fees, and demanded that I see a doctor ASAP. They had me in a consultation room in 15 minutes. I was really dizzy and weak, so the doctor got me in a wheelchair and sent me for lab testing right away. While we were waiting for the initial results (they essentially screen for malaria and that's it at first) my limbs went numb. When my muscles contracted and I found I was paralyzed and my face was going numb too I started to freak out. Kelly rushed me back to the doctor. His first exclamation of "Oh shit" didn't do much to reassure me--I had never experienced paralysis before and didn't know how serious it was. They took me into a side room, lifted me onto a table and hooked me up to an IV. After the saline had been running for a few minutes my muscles finally relaxed and the feeling started to come back. I can't even begin to explain how relieved I was. The doctor took me back to his office and told me the lab tests were negative for malaria but my white blood cell count was through the roof, indicating a bad infection. They were going to admit me to the hospital immediately.
Before I describe the hospital I just need to say how lucky I was to have Kelly there to help me. She somehow managed to keep her cool despite the fact that she had never been in a hospital before and was now trying to navigate me through a foreign medical system. She made sure I received the best care possible and covered all my hospital expenses up front because I was in no shape to run out to the bank. She was a life-saver, perhaps literally.
The hospital itself was really nice. The staff were extremely kind and made sure everything I needed was looked after. They even came around to greet every single patient at the beginning of their shifts. I had a bed with clean sheets behind a curtained-off area in a room with three other people. The room had a T.V. with satellite and was cleaned at least twice a day. We had our own washroom with a shower that had hot water and toilet paper was provided free of charge. We had good meals brought to us three times a day and the kitchen staff made me special meals because they knew I had food allergies. It was honestly nicer than any hospital I have ever been in back home, which was lucky for me because I was there for five days. I was continually being tested for different illnesses and infections and on day 2 they decided to perform a 3-day culture on one of my samples.
I only had two books with me and I finished reading them on the second day. The satellite offered one decent channel with American shows but had a tendency to re-run the same episodes over and over. This left me with a lot of time to think. First of all I freaked out because I had so much scheduled that week including weaving lessons and in-service workshops with the teachers at my placement. Then I started missing home. Then I started missing social interaction in general. And this led me to mull over a lot of the things I have experienced since arriving in Ghana. I missed the kids at my school like crazy and hated that I was losing my second last week with them. However, I also realized how exhausted Ghanaian social norms have made me. There was one morning at the hospital when I felt particularly hopeless and started to cry when a visiting CCS staff member asked me how I was. She immediately told me to stop crying because expressing emotion like that is socially unacceptable here. She then opened up my curtain and the next thing I knew I had the three other patients and their families lecturing me on how I shouldn't cry because I needed to be strong for my family and God would look after me. In an attempt to make me feel better the staff member then went on a tangent about how God decides when it's our time to go and maybe it was my time to go but I shouldn't be sad because it was what he wanted and hopefully he would decide to heal me so I could see my family again. Let's just say this made the situation harder to deal with. I miss the way people approach problems like this back home.
I was released from the hospital on Thursday afternoon. I had a bacterial infection in my digestive tract and was given antibiotics to continue taking after I left. I just finished them all today and I am feeling much better. I will post more tomorrow night. My computer time is up! Hope everyone back home is doing well!