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...

Collins *8*

By traveling just a few short hours in Ghana, and a lot of Africa, you pass through not just scenery but various cultures, traditions, and languages. I've spent the last few days in the Volta region, just 5 hours and a few languages away from where i'm living in Boamadumase. its been a nice break to not understand what people are saying to me, to not have to turn my head to every "oburoni kokoo maakye!/white girl how are you?". i can just walk in peace and ignorance and listen to what Maya Angelou refers to as "the beautiful singsong language, Ewe".
i'm starting to miss my roommates a little. mostly collins, the youngest brother. he's 19 years old and has lived in the village his entire life and is just completing junior high school. he's the only disabled person in the village i've seen, and also happens to be the person i feel most comfortable around.

after a long day at the clinic, i am happy to see collins at home. he usually is sitting in 1 of our 3 plastic chairs in the living room, that lean up against thick glass windows that look into my room. i would have bought curtains for a bit of privacy from all the people who pass through, and occasionally collins peeping eyes, but the glass is so dusty that i don't need any. i am protected.
the first week i was here i gave collins a tee-shirt, bright blue that says "Chapman Cats". it's boasts the logo from the school i was working at just a few short months ago and was given to me as a present by my wonderful boss Chris Kenney. Before i left for this trip i was feeling nervous about quitting, i didn't want to let people down by giving my notice in the middle of the school year, but the call back to Ghana was so strong i couldn't help myself. she strongly supported me and then gave me the gift at a going away party. now, collins is wearing it, religiously.

every day when i meet up with him he has it on. i can see him coming down the long dusty trail, his body twisted at a challenged angle, his stiff homemade crutches working their way down the road, and his legs whipping around slowly, one after the other. his shirt is very new looking amidst the aging things my eyes are so used to seeing.
his mother is the next closest house to mine, close enough for him and his brothers (all of them my roommates) to yell out the window and ask if dinner is ready, but far enough for it to be funny. it would probably be equivalent to a little longer than the length of a football field.

Sakola has the best yelling voice, and the best ear. He waits a few extra seconds, till the sound waves travel and have made a complete stop. then he inches up close to the window and hollers back. usually it is accompanied by a "let's go." and then we trudge off to eat whatever has been prepared for us.

In between the houses is a cocoa farm, owned, ran and worked by all the family, except Collins. His body is disadvantaged, especially for village life. But his mind is keen and he makes great conversation. He can't haul water, or carry wood, or pound fufuo but he can translate anything me or the brothers can't get across to each other, and then has the sense of humor to laugh at us all. he hears the miscommunication between us and sees the struggles, and smooths them out by patiently explaining what we each mean, all in our own native languages. then he claps his hands together, throws his head back, and shakes it all around.

he was so overjoyed by his bright blue t-shirt he promised me again and again that God was going to bless me abundantly, when i returned to America. "Just you wait and see Kessy, God will BLESS YOU BLESS YOU BLESS YOU!" he shook his head around, side to side, like a dog after a bath.

he was so sincere, i felt like i was having my palm read.

"really? how?" i was almost scared to ask, like the feeling you get when you sneak into your mothers secret hiding spot and look at a Christmas present early.

"oh Kessy, he will BLESS YOU! because God says 'those that give to the least of these, give unto Me. Just you wait, he will BLESS YOU! you will be RICH!" he was rolling his rrrrrrr's and speaking in his deep preachers voice.

i'm believing him. even though just being in collins presence is all the blessing i need.

See you on Sunday *7*

I watched my first James Bond movie today. Or part of it, at least. Senam pawned me off on his brother so he could go bathe, he told me he was watching movies in his room and i could just hang out there for a while.
i walked into a tiny dark room, all painted pink with pink bed sheets and fake flower arrangements and a holographic picture of the white Jesus. Senams brother, Gilbert, was sprawled out and welcomed me by fluffing a few pillows for me to sit on. He did a quick once over of his room, shut some dresser drawers and smoothed his shirt.

"do you like James Bond movies?" and then he handed me a pirated case cover which showed all the movies he had. "how much are dvd's in america?" he asked.

i told him.

"ehhhhh!" he screamed, throwing his body back like he'd just been punched. "that much? this was only about, hm, let's say, 25,000 cedis!"

thats roughly $2.50. i really didn't care one way or the other but it obviously excited him into further questions.

"that much? oh. well, these are all copies of copies but they play well" he pointed to the t.v. "see they are a clear picture. and you say you've never seen a James Bond movie? You white people seem to not see very many of these films."

we had gone out to a restaraunt the night before and he went down the list of all the movies he had recently seen, and who starred in each. i knew of neither. i am completely ignorant when it comes to Hollywood, which really puts a quick end to a lot of budding conversations here. next time i come i should grab a handful of People magazines and study up on the plane ride over.

"well make yourself comfortable" he said, stressing each syllable in com-for-ta-ble.

i leaned back and looked around the room.

"is this your room?" i was certain it was for an older lady in the family, maybe his grandmother.

"yes!" he said.

"oh" i smiled. "you have a lot of stuff." i couldn't think of anything to say. i didn't want to tell him how it dripped with femininity and did he do the flower arrangements himself?
not to mention, i found some sort of bizarre pleasure seeing him kicked back enjoying James Bond amidst lace and frills. like the new fad of fraternity boys wearing pink pastel polo shirts, a little odd but highly enjoyable, as if we are all going to join the same tribe soon.

"you should watch, if you'd like." he noticed i was taking mental note of every possible detail, even though i was trying to be casual i don't think it was working. good thing i hadn't brought a pen and paper.

"okay" i said. i leaned back and instantly wanted to be outside. it was too dark, i wasn't interested in James Bond, and the lace curtains were blowing ever so softly that i knew the weather hadn't turned unbearable and there was still time to enjoy the morning. but i didn't move, i just let the urge pass and settled down into docks exploding and little bodies flying like fleas jumping off dogs.

an hour passed and we were on to our 2nd film. i was starting to see why my family was excited when they saw Pierce walking down a beach a few years back in Kuaui.

"Pierce, who's Pierce?" i kept asking.

We ended up walking in groups of two down the long stretch of sand, trying to appear non-chalant and get a closer look.

"its him!" they said. they were certain.

"Gilbert" i was interuppting the movie but i know he didn't mind, he had been going out of his way to make small talk with me the entire time. "Gilbert, did you know that i saw Pierce once when i was in Hawaii?"

He gave me a long slow nod.

"Hawaii? Is that an island?" he asked.

Yes i said.

"oh yes, Hawaii, i'd like to go there one day. i've seen pictures, its so colorful and..." he wiggled his fingers around in the air, like he was playing a piano up by his forehead.

we kept watching the movie. my news didn't seem to impress him, but it didn't really impress me either so i didn't mind. i could feel a wad of thick frothy saliva forming in my mouth but hadn't wanted to get up for the past hour to spit it out due to my laziness. my mind kept skipping from remembering the water i had used to rinse after i brushed, James Bond, and whether i should just swallow it. the water wasn't clear. was i harboring millions of harmful bacteria inside my mouth and if i swallowed what would happen?

a rocket shot through someones chest a pinned them against the wall. seconds later, Bond shot a lady dead.

i swallowed, i should be okay.

I heard Senams father calling from the other house for his grandson. The little boy ran into our room and told Gilbert something in Ewe. Gilbert nodded and looked at me and told me someone was here to greet me.

"in fact, its my eldest sister. come she's just outside." and he stood up and waved me over towards the door.

I walked out and the sunlight was blinding. His sister was old to be his sibling, in her late 50's. She was shorter than me and had her hair greased into a short bob. she stuck out her hand and i shook it.

"hello, you must be Gilbert's sister." how on earth did i know?

She laughed... "yes, yes, i am the eldest sister, the first born. veeeeeeeeery first that is."

she spoke english well. all of Senam's family does.

"you are welcome." she said, offering the typical Ghanaian greeting.

"thank you." i replied.

"so i hope you are enjoying your stay here. i have come for just today." she said "i am a midwife in a village just 30 kilometers from this place, i have to go back soon but will be returning on Sunday, this Sunday. It is my hope you will be here when i return. Is that the case?"

I responded that i was planning on leaving Sunday to head back to Boamadumase. I didn't want to be gone from work for too long, that i wanted to be exposed to more "cases" (Ma's term for women delivering).

"oh, i see. So you are a midwife." she stated.

"well no, not really." i felt embarrassed. again, like a wannabe. so i just admitted "no, i'm not, i just want to be."

that really made her laugh and then she reached out and slapped my arm. "then you should come with me! you will see a lot. but i'm leaving today and coming back on Sunday."

She and Gilbert shot Ewe back and forth and came up with the conclusion that it just wouldn't work.

"okay" she said "maybe instead, when i come on Sunday i can bring you to the local hospital, then you can see how it is for yourself. Maybe Sunday night i will come, is that alright with you?"

"Yes." anything was alright with me, anything that had to do with birth. scrubbing blood splatters off the wall would be okay with me. i didn't say that though. "Yes, that sounds great."

"Okay then, i'll see you on Sunday." she said. "but i don't even know your name. I'm Ernestine."

"I'm Kacie."

"Great, see you in a few days." and then she left.

Ma told me she had worked in the Volta region as a midwife for a good number of years. I wonder if Ernestine knows Ma, and if she did I wonder what she would think of her. They seem to be from two different planets. Ernestine appears so mobile and personable. I could never imagine her yelling the way Ma does, loud and long till my belly trembles and my bones shake.

She was wearing a purple matching skirt and top, the color of a perfectly dyed easter egg, and just as friendly. and i'm going to see her in 2 days.