ladies c'mon over *9*...

A week before i left, 5 of my great girlfriends and i met each other out for sushi at a trendy restaurant in downtown Chico. I along with 2 others got there around 6, and sat at a table in the corner. It was perfect, we could get giggly and loud and only the walls would hear.
When the last two ladies, Simone and Marie, showed up they were both carrying bags and suspicious smiles. They ordered us all into the 1 room bathroom, where they uncovered their surprises.
Ball gowns and funky socks, for all to wear.
i was ecstatic, i had heard about crazy nights in 80's ball gowns, and waited for the day of my initiation. my going away party was the perfect night!

we all stripped down and started rummaging through the choices, tossing each other what we thought "was so you" and grabbing for what we liked. the bathroom couldn't have been a more perfect place. the walls were fully mirrored (i think even the ceilings were too) and the floor was clean enough not to be grossed out. the dresses came in all colors and designs, and i had my eye on the light blue thigh length one. someone was holding it at the moment, so i tried not to get my hopes up. i looked through the socks instead.

purple and black striped knee highs. that will do.

the outfits were coming together nicely, except one thing.

"excuse me ladies!" marie yelled out. "ball gown rule number 12, you need to all know, is that the dress doesn't have to (and preferably, should not) be able to zip up all the way."

we all looked around at each other and started laughing. perfect, cause none of them were budging past our mid backs.

somebody threw the blue one into my empty arms and said "wear this one Kace!" so i frantically stepped into it and wiggled it up, went to zip it, and only got half way. it was meant to be.

we were all starting to get a little sweaty and claustrophobic so a few of us finished up and left to go sit at the table. the others came shortly.

we looked fabulous. all frills, sequins, shoulder pads, and definitely meaning business. i was sad to leave. i wanted to dress in ball gowns every night. i didn't want this to be a going away party, so instead of letting the night end early, we squeezed out every last minute we could. we perused the town and crashed every single small business we could find. cafes, wine lounges, and restaurants. we were unstoppable.

each place we went into we danced like it was MTV spring break meets San Francisco rave, flipping our hairdos in outrageous directions. i lucked out and got to wear the yellow sparkly boa which we dubbed as our testosterone shocker. no boys were going to intrude on our night, that was for sure. each time the male species walked within our vicinity, showing any slight interest, we'd throw out our shocker and keep them at bay. this was all done 100% sober.

and who says you need alcohol to have fun?

after doing karaoke in a completely empty bar (except for a few local cowboys) and singing our hearts out to (i think it was) Metallica then working our way down the block and stompin' to a live Irish band, we walked our tousled selves back to our bikes and cars.

"you know" marie said "we should travel the world in ball gowns!"

none of us wanted it to end. okay, maybe one of us did, but she was a little tired and i don't blame her.

"YEAH!!!!!!!" i thought it was a great idea. "when i get back from africa, lets start in argentina and learn how to salsa dance. (unfortunately i don't think they salsa dance there, but that wasn't my point) then lets go to-"

"iceland"

"YEAH! and then we can go to China and walk the Great Wall in ball gowns"

"and then we can visit the Pyramids in ball gowns..."

and the conversation ping ponged like that- all around our ball gowns, until we separated and went to bed.

well my ladies would be proud to hear of my most recent find.

friday is market day in the village. every week sellers come from the local cities, packed in cars with all their goods, then sprawl them out on plastic mats and yell out to come and buy their goods.

my first week in town i thought the big vacant lot was a huge blacktop, some sort of deserted playground.

it took only a few short days to realize what Agyei meant when he nodded and kept saying "friday is market day, are you ready?" i thought market day just meant people went to the already existing stands and purchased what they needed for the upcoming week. oh but was i wrong.

tomatoes, shampoo, fabric, kitchen supplies, rope, soap, dried fish, baby clothes, onions and papaya, chiles and plantain, ice cream... someone even offered up their child to me... everything is for sale.

huge piles of clothes, shipped over from the U.S., all previously used were carefully placed in 5 feet increments down a long stretch of road. when i first saw it and heard the man yell out "5,000 cedis! (50 cents)" i had that rush of excitement that i get right when i walk into a thrift store with absolutely nothing else to do for the day. the world was mine!

but then i was flooded with guilt remembering how Sakola and Agyei had to team up with me and struggle to put together a janky wardrobe, which it's directions were all written in chinese, earlier that morning. Agyei kept wiping the sweat off his forehead onto his sleeve and giving me funny looks. we would just laugh, but i think we both were a little more annoyed than amused. Sakola had to fix each of the screws i had put together, to make the wardrobe not so shaky and unstable. all because i needed to hang the exorbitant amount of clothes i had brought over.

while i was packing i decided, if i was going to be homesick it was going to be for things i couldn't bring over. like people. ALL my clothes were coming with me.

"your bags are over the weight limit" the lady at the airline checkout counter told me.

"that's fine, i'll pay the extra fee." i said politely.

"no, they are over the limit of allowance. you can't bring all this. you have to get rid of 20 pounds, for each bag."

darn it! i couldn't leave my clothes behind, all my outfits already had future memories attached to them. i was planning on wearing my black and white dresses to church, backpacking in my earth colored tank tops, working at the clinic in my thrift store scrubs. what could i get rid of?

my mom was there, already trying to problem solve. if i hadn't been leaving for an indefinite amount of time, i think she probably would have been annoyed at my lack of planning. i did spend the last night upstairs on a scale struggling to hold each suitcase high enough so she could read the weight. but now, it didn't seem to matter. i had to get rid of 40 lbs and my mom was looking at me to help her figure it out.

"what's it gonna be?" she asked.

"okay" i said selfishly. "lets get rid of the exam gloves."

i mean, aren't clothes a little more important than the protection of oneself and a patient during times like childbirth? so i pulled out boxes and boxes of exam gloves, and kept my clothes.

now, in ghana, i needed a wardrobe to house all these clothes, and i needed help putting it together. initially i was convinced i could do it myself. i had heard another foreign volunteer before me put together Ma's wardrobe (she has a lot of clothes too :)) and i competitively asked Ma

"how long did it take her to put it together?"

she sneered at me skeptically and said "oh, 30 minutes and she was done."

then i could do it in 20, i told myself.

but instead the wardrobe sat in my room, a quarter of the way assembled, for about a week. each day i went to the clinic Ma asked me if i had put it together yet. each day i had a new excuse until finally she told me

"if you say you are going to do something, you should do it."

my self-esteem plummeted and then i got angry. she didn't even put hers together. easy for her to say.

i woke up the next morning and struggled until Sakola, curious poked his head around the corner into my room. he just stared for a while. it was pretty obvious i needed help, and it was pretty obvious i wasn't going to ask. i just kept reading and rereading the chinese directions, convinced maybe a caricature or two might suddenly jump out and make sense and the entire wardrobe could then be put together effortlessly.

the cool morning was giving way to a hot morning and i wanted to cry. i felt like i was failing every woman from every generation that was told she couldn't do man's work. i couldn't, but i wanted to.

instead Sakola came in and started to look at the pieces and fit them together like a jigsaw puzzle. he didn't do it quickly, which made me happy. in fact, Agyei showed up (we have a telepathic relationship) and brought the humor back into everything. i think he made fun of me in twi to Sakola, one for getting a wardrobe i couldn't put together and two, for HAVING to get a wardrobe that i couldn't put together. really, they wondered, WHY SO MANY CLOTHES?

so there i was, just a half a day later, staring at the pile of old ragged used clothes at the market, only wanting more. i started shuffling 'just to look'. i didn't need anything else, i just wanted to look. really.

i was shopping with Efreeyeh, and she had quickly lost interest in the old heap. she walked over to the beauty supplies when she heard me let out a great big cry of good fortune

"YYYYYYYIIIIehhhh!" i jumped up and down like i just won the lotto.

I yanked a magenta 80's ball gown out of the mess. I held it up to myself (not too closely) and looked down. it was dreadfully beautiful. painfully gorgeous. and it even had jewels studded across the chest in the form of a rose.

how perfect and tacky is this?

i could barely remember feeling guilty now that i had this in my hands. i examined it a little more. it was off the shoulder and a little above the knee. the color was atrocious. i had to get it.

the man selling the clothes had no doubt sensed my excitement, and said

"its really nice isn't it? oh what a beautiful dress. it will look sweet on you sista"

i was waiting for the increase in price, but he put his hand out and said "5,000 cedis."

what a unblemished moment, i thought. i didn't even have to haggle.

Efreeyeh walked over and i asked her if she liked my dress.

"No, not really."

She has a striking gap in between her two front teeth, and posture like a midget in a big persons body, all tight and straight. she's good looking in a different sort of way, with a gentle inquiring spirit. she didn't want to say she didn't like it, but i sort of forced it out of her. plus, the dress was down right hideous.

"i don't like it either." i said with images of my friends and me together in ball gowns, floating through my head. we wouldn't be starting in Argentina, now that i found this dress we would have to start in Ghana. I would have to find a bunch more.

"will you wear it to town?" she asked.

never. i thought.

"um, probably not. i'm not sure when or where i'll wear it." i answered. "i'll have to wear it with my friends."

she nodded knowingly. i had no idea how to explain why i bought a dress i didn't think was attractive for no particular reason except to wear it someday? somewhere in that exchange, there is a loss for understanding. some things just don't cross cultures, and it was apparent my ball gown escapade wasn't going to make sense if i told her, so i kept the story to myself and brought my dress home and hung it over my glass window. i wanted to keep it out of the wardrobe so i could lovingly look at it when i reclined in bed. this dress was my new best friend and it hung in the same spot for 3 weeks. i didn't try it on, i wanted instead to wait for the perfect moment to put it on. some special occasion that was sure to come...