its New Year Eve, i just remembered that.
2 years ago, after the enormous tsunami hit in Asia, i stayed in the house and collaged for New Years Eve. I couldn't see why anyone would want to go out and party when millions of people were so deeply hurting. why anyone would want to destroy their bodies with poison when all these people were aching for health. why i would want to spend money on myself when organizations so desperately needed donations. why i'd want to go anywhere when all my family was right here.
i watched the news all night and cried. then i thought long and hard about my life. what is it that i want to do? this year, the year after, in 10 years. i grabbed stacks of magazines and started clipping images that i wanted to materialize into my reality. i did this with my cousin, who was about 10 at the time.
she puffy painted and glued horses all over hers.
i ended up filling about 5 jumbo sized index cards and taping them into a vertical display, each one hanging from the other.
the top card, had a picture of a seal. yes, the mammal, a seal. its face was plump and pleasant, she had a smirk so peaceful and serene that i could only interpret as being directly God derived. i wanted that smirk. i wanted that knowing. so i cut it out and pasted the image at the top. that was the most important thing to me.
next down the line i think i put a picture of a woman karate chopping her way over a cliffs edge. i didn't want to die, i wanted to become a black belt. i was moving to Taiwan and thought it'd be the perfect place to learn a martial art and develop some severe self-defense tactics. since then, that goal has sifted around and been filtered out. maybe one day.
the 3rd note card was a picture of a lady holding a fetal scope up to a pregnant woman's belly. i wanted to become a midwife. or so i thought. i wanted to see, at least, if i wanted to become a midwife. this picture was pasted over an image of low lying tropical rain forest and a long red dirt dusty road.
sound familiar?
every morning when i walk to work i marvel at the exactness of what i am looking at and what i had glued on my card. there is no disparity. i am living in the place i had glued on my card.
prior to coming here i had never seen it. in fact, my prayers before i came went something like this
"dear God, if this place doesn't exist please let me know why you sent me here."
i was doubting the legitimacy of the organization, for a few slight reasons. i had no idea i would be living in a place i had already seen, on my collage card.
the 4th card had a woman sitting at a laptop casually writing a novel.
and the last had a plan on how to pay off some petty debt.
i glued a picture of Gael Garcia Bernal on the flip side. he's the sexy Latin American who stars in The Motorcycle Diaries. He was just a symbol. i didn't want to make romantic love my main focus, it could occupy the backspace. although admittedly i was having a hard time not doing so. i had fallen head over heals for a man who satisfies every part of my soul. its not easy being madly in love and trying to pursue these things... one always seems to have to give way to the other.
i have to flip the card and focus separately.
in a perfect world i could move Mr. Marquez to the front, create a 5th card, and they could all dangle together. but for now, he was on the back, and the things on the front were all happening. well, at least some of them, the ones at the moment that are worth the flipping.
now, 2 years later, i'm sitting in this Internet lab waiting for a midwife to call me so i can go hang out with bulging bellied women. if i was to do the same thing tonite, cut and paste together some sort of intention board, i don't know what i would put.
now that i'm removed from America, from the incessant drive to 'do' and 'go' and 'strive' i feel complacent. or satisfied. or just unable to dream up some things to achieve. i'm pleased with what is happening here, even if Watchman and Secetry don't call for me in the night, and Ernestine forgets our date.
the Ghanaian mindset is very oriented towards the present. besides Ma asking me what i'll be eating for dinner every morning at 9, i've yet to see a lot of planning here. it is both a major stumbling block towards development, and one of poverty's greatest blessings. to be able to accept the present and not obsess over the future. i think every one could have a lot to learn from this way of thinking: to be happy and grateful that the tank has enough to get you to the station, instead of assuming you'll always be on full.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
*12*
i've been waiting for Ernestine to call me and bring me to the hospital to tour the maternity ward. this morning i walked over to Gilbert's (senam's brother) room and knocked on his door.
He poked his head out from behind the lace curtain hanging over the entry way.
"Oh hello Kacie. How are you?"
"i'm doing well, thank you."
"what can i do for you?" he asked.
"have you seen Ernestine today? I am supposed to go with her to the hospital and i wasn't sure what time we were leaving."
"oh riiiiight. okay. let me just put on my shoes and go figure that out for you. here, come in, i'm sure you wouldn't mind passing some time by watching a little James Bond, would you?"
"of coarse not." i said. i am starting to like the movies. so i sat down on the couch and sort of nuzzled in. i was feeling more comfortable with Gilbert now after our tro tro ride the night before. he gave up his shoulder to me as a pillow, and kept checking to see if i was comfortable.
somehow having 4 people and a stickshift all tangled up with each other promotes intimacy.
"i'll be right back" he said.
i didn't notice when he came in because i was so enthralled with what i was watching.
its 5:30 and Ernestine has yet to call. i've watched 3 movies today and walked from internet lab to internet lab, looking for one open on a sunday.
"are you open?" i asked a man standing outside some barred up doors.
"oh misses, we will be opening at 3:00."
i shot him an 'are you sure look'.
"oh yes, 3:00 we will open, most certainly."
i looked at my watch. "but it's 4:00" i said.
"oh" he pulled his neck back and frowned. he looked at his watch. but from having observed people recently i've found watches are more for style and proof of class than function. Gilbert wears a watch that doesn't even tick.
"well then" he said "my boys should be coming soon. you just wait here, the lab will open. take that chair."
some random person brought the plastic chair over to me and dusted it off. they held out their hand to sit, so i did.
i sat and sat and sat, until i had to give myself a little talking to.
why was i still sitting waiting for this place to open up? who knows when or if it really was going to? where was that man who seemed to know it was going to open? for all i knew he was sprinting down some road to tell his brother the internet lab had business and to come quick and unlock the door. if that was the case, it would take hours before the computers and internet were actually hooked up.
i'm out of here, i thought.
i left feeling like i had to sneak away. i made up some excuses just in case i got caught, and then jumped in a cab. the driver took me to a working internet lab, where i'm typing... a little bored... don't have a lot to say... but don't have much to do either... maybe i'll go watch some more movies. tommorow is my last day here, which means my last day with electricity and close friends...
He poked his head out from behind the lace curtain hanging over the entry way.
"Oh hello Kacie. How are you?"
"i'm doing well, thank you."
"what can i do for you?" he asked.
"have you seen Ernestine today? I am supposed to go with her to the hospital and i wasn't sure what time we were leaving."
"oh riiiiight. okay. let me just put on my shoes and go figure that out for you. here, come in, i'm sure you wouldn't mind passing some time by watching a little James Bond, would you?"
"of coarse not." i said. i am starting to like the movies. so i sat down on the couch and sort of nuzzled in. i was feeling more comfortable with Gilbert now after our tro tro ride the night before. he gave up his shoulder to me as a pillow, and kept checking to see if i was comfortable.
somehow having 4 people and a stickshift all tangled up with each other promotes intimacy.
"i'll be right back" he said.
i didn't notice when he came in because i was so enthralled with what i was watching.
its 5:30 and Ernestine has yet to call. i've watched 3 movies today and walked from internet lab to internet lab, looking for one open on a sunday.
"are you open?" i asked a man standing outside some barred up doors.
"oh misses, we will be opening at 3:00."
i shot him an 'are you sure look'.
"oh yes, 3:00 we will open, most certainly."
i looked at my watch. "but it's 4:00" i said.
"oh" he pulled his neck back and frowned. he looked at his watch. but from having observed people recently i've found watches are more for style and proof of class than function. Gilbert wears a watch that doesn't even tick.
"well then" he said "my boys should be coming soon. you just wait here, the lab will open. take that chair."
some random person brought the plastic chair over to me and dusted it off. they held out their hand to sit, so i did.
i sat and sat and sat, until i had to give myself a little talking to.
why was i still sitting waiting for this place to open up? who knows when or if it really was going to? where was that man who seemed to know it was going to open? for all i knew he was sprinting down some road to tell his brother the internet lab had business and to come quick and unlock the door. if that was the case, it would take hours before the computers and internet were actually hooked up.
i'm out of here, i thought.
i left feeling like i had to sneak away. i made up some excuses just in case i got caught, and then jumped in a cab. the driver took me to a working internet lab, where i'm typing... a little bored... don't have a lot to say... but don't have much to do either... maybe i'll go watch some more movies. tommorow is my last day here, which means my last day with electricity and close friends...
life on the road *11*
Last night i was 3 hours from Ho, the city i am currently vacationing in. Me, Senam and his brother, Senams girlfriend and another friend decided to visit some local waterfalls. They are one of the sightseeing highlights in Ghana, and after a short hike up through some "jungle" you can relax and swim at the base of it's enormous downpour. Its refreshingly beautiful and always nice to get some exercise too.
Our cab driver was late picking us up (sometime after 7 pm), which bumped us into a tro tro (overcrowded van-like cars that work as public transportation) that was completely empty. we sat in the dark for 2 more hours waiting for the car to fill up with passengers.
typically, in the west, we'd fit about 7 or 8 people in these cars and applaud ourselves for carpooling.
here, in Ghana, the car isn't considered full until at least 16 people have bought a seat.
we had 14 going, and were waiting for the last two to straggle in.
it was taking so long that i had fallen asleep on the bench directly behind the drivers seat, and had my legs sprawled over what would be the remaining two seats. when i had gone to bed just me and my friends had spots reserved. when i had awoke the entire car was full, almost.
"press close against the window" somebody told me. they were directing me to squeeze and make room.
i looked around for my friends. 2 behind me and 2 in front. check.
but why were they all laughing at me?
Dela, one of the ladies, crinkles up her entire nose until it almost hits her forehead when she laughs (i think i might do something similar). whatever they were laughing at seemed to be really funny.
senam leaned forward and patted my shoulder a few times. i turned around and asked him what was going on?
"well it looks like we are going to have to squeeze" and he pointed to the two women who had purchased the last two seats.
now, i am not one to make fun of people who are overweight, but the idea that these ladies were going to fit into this overcrowded car, and going to fit in next to me, was preposterous. even the locals thought it was funny.
these women weren't large, they were huge, and it wasn't physically possible to get all of us on one bench seat and make it there alive.
3 days earlier i witnessed the slow death of a few chickens aboard a tro tro, due to overcrowding and heat, and i wasn't about to let that happen to me.
"um i don't think so." i cried.
Dela hadn't stopped laughing.
the women were boarding.
"um no, i don't think so." i felt like a skinny stuck up white girl. but i didn't care. "we can't fit!" and i shook my head like somebody who was about to be robbed.
the driver was smirking at me, as were all the other passengers.
my friends in the front whispered back "human airbags". i felt sick that it was turning into a joke, but i suppose 40 skinny people crowded on a bench would have been just as funny. it wasn't the character behind the weight, it was the situation the weight was in.
1 of the women took up at least 2 seats. there were 2 women and we were sitting on a 4 seater. the math wasn't adding up. so Senam explained to the driver exactly why this wasn't going to work. he eventually agreed and plopped me in the front seat. i did the sign of the cross and got ready to go. some children ran up to the car and crawled onto the women's laps.
"they have kids too?" i asked Gilbert. "they expected us ALL to fit there?"
He raised his eyebrows, which is the silent way to say "yes".
i've seen some pretty amazing things here, but the law of physics holds true no matter what. the 4 seater was fitting just 2 bodies. i suppose i could have sat on their laps too, but squeezing 4 people into the front wasn't all that bad.
when i studied abroad here our country advisor told us all about the tro tros. she let us in on an unsettling secret "sit in the 3rd row back, right in the middle, that way if you get in an accident your chances of survival are higher. the bodies will cushion the blow".
it seemed like sound advice, but not really what you want to hear when you first move to a foreign country. i never forgot it though, and every time i load up i can hear her voice like a little recorder in my head. when i was asking to move, part of me was thinking, i really should volunteer to sit between the two ladies.
accidents are not rare here.
late at night in the village, when i'm sleeping, i can hear tro tros racing down the accra-kumasi road (kind of like the state highway) miles away. sometimes i swat at my ear. they go so fast it sounds like i'm about to be a mosquito's feast. then i realize what i realized the night before. its the cars, not mosquitoes. i say a little prayer for the car and then go back to bed.
the veil of youth is slowly being lifted from my eyes and mortality is something that is beginning to take a blurry shape and form.
3 years back i hitchhiked the length of Ghana with my friend Crystal, through rainstorms in the back of pick-up trucks. It was incredible, but i wouldn't do that now.
is it a small loss of sense of adventure, or the first step in acquiring a little common sense? maybe neither, maybe both. but whatever it is, at least my mom can feel a little more at peace :)
Our cab driver was late picking us up (sometime after 7 pm), which bumped us into a tro tro (overcrowded van-like cars that work as public transportation) that was completely empty. we sat in the dark for 2 more hours waiting for the car to fill up with passengers.
typically, in the west, we'd fit about 7 or 8 people in these cars and applaud ourselves for carpooling.
here, in Ghana, the car isn't considered full until at least 16 people have bought a seat.
we had 14 going, and were waiting for the last two to straggle in.
it was taking so long that i had fallen asleep on the bench directly behind the drivers seat, and had my legs sprawled over what would be the remaining two seats. when i had gone to bed just me and my friends had spots reserved. when i had awoke the entire car was full, almost.
"press close against the window" somebody told me. they were directing me to squeeze and make room.
i looked around for my friends. 2 behind me and 2 in front. check.
but why were they all laughing at me?
Dela, one of the ladies, crinkles up her entire nose until it almost hits her forehead when she laughs (i think i might do something similar). whatever they were laughing at seemed to be really funny.
senam leaned forward and patted my shoulder a few times. i turned around and asked him what was going on?
"well it looks like we are going to have to squeeze" and he pointed to the two women who had purchased the last two seats.
now, i am not one to make fun of people who are overweight, but the idea that these ladies were going to fit into this overcrowded car, and going to fit in next to me, was preposterous. even the locals thought it was funny.
these women weren't large, they were huge, and it wasn't physically possible to get all of us on one bench seat and make it there alive.
3 days earlier i witnessed the slow death of a few chickens aboard a tro tro, due to overcrowding and heat, and i wasn't about to let that happen to me.
"um i don't think so." i cried.
Dela hadn't stopped laughing.
the women were boarding.
"um no, i don't think so." i felt like a skinny stuck up white girl. but i didn't care. "we can't fit!" and i shook my head like somebody who was about to be robbed.
the driver was smirking at me, as were all the other passengers.
my friends in the front whispered back "human airbags". i felt sick that it was turning into a joke, but i suppose 40 skinny people crowded on a bench would have been just as funny. it wasn't the character behind the weight, it was the situation the weight was in.
1 of the women took up at least 2 seats. there were 2 women and we were sitting on a 4 seater. the math wasn't adding up. so Senam explained to the driver exactly why this wasn't going to work. he eventually agreed and plopped me in the front seat. i did the sign of the cross and got ready to go. some children ran up to the car and crawled onto the women's laps.
"they have kids too?" i asked Gilbert. "they expected us ALL to fit there?"
He raised his eyebrows, which is the silent way to say "yes".
i've seen some pretty amazing things here, but the law of physics holds true no matter what. the 4 seater was fitting just 2 bodies. i suppose i could have sat on their laps too, but squeezing 4 people into the front wasn't all that bad.
when i studied abroad here our country advisor told us all about the tro tros. she let us in on an unsettling secret "sit in the 3rd row back, right in the middle, that way if you get in an accident your chances of survival are higher. the bodies will cushion the blow".
it seemed like sound advice, but not really what you want to hear when you first move to a foreign country. i never forgot it though, and every time i load up i can hear her voice like a little recorder in my head. when i was asking to move, part of me was thinking, i really should volunteer to sit between the two ladies.
accidents are not rare here.
late at night in the village, when i'm sleeping, i can hear tro tros racing down the accra-kumasi road (kind of like the state highway) miles away. sometimes i swat at my ear. they go so fast it sounds like i'm about to be a mosquito's feast. then i realize what i realized the night before. its the cars, not mosquitoes. i say a little prayer for the car and then go back to bed.
the veil of youth is slowly being lifted from my eyes and mortality is something that is beginning to take a blurry shape and form.
3 years back i hitchhiked the length of Ghana with my friend Crystal, through rainstorms in the back of pick-up trucks. It was incredible, but i wouldn't do that now.
is it a small loss of sense of adventure, or the first step in acquiring a little common sense? maybe neither, maybe both. but whatever it is, at least my mom can feel a little more at peace :)
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