This is a must read blog post by a PCV in Ethiopia. It totally sums up my feelings about my experience here in Kenya.
Here's the link, but I have also copied it below: http://waidsworld.wordpress.com/2011/08/07/the-real-peace-corps/
The Real Peace Corps
I feel as though I’ve done somewhat of a disservice throughout this blog. I’ve painted a picture of my time here that isn’t precisely accurate. I’m an emotional person, romantic, optimistic to a fault. I like extremes and superlatives. I exaggerate in an attempt to draw the reader in, and to make sense of things I can’t make sense of.
I romanticize this experience as a function of my personality but also as a coping mechanism. Peace Corps is really hard.
So I want to write about the real Ethiopia. And the real Peace Corps experience. That way, if a future volunteer reads this, they understand what to expect, and won’t hate me for only showing sunset pictures and kids holding hands.
So what should you expect?
Nothing is the best answer. Expect nothing and you will be pleasantly surprised. Every experience is different. My friend Jon lives 80 miles away. Our lives could not be more different. His house has no floor save for the mud it was built on. He is lucky to have power one day out of the week. My sitemate Dave lives 200 meters from my house and our experiences are entirely different.
So here are some observations, a look into what I do, and an idea of what your potential service will look like.
Peace Corps is defined by a strange dichotomy. Freedom and containment. I wake up every day with a blank slate. I can do anything. I can do nothing. And while the possibilities are only limited by my own imagination, the ability to do as I please is corrupted by a number of social, political, and cultural practices.
Case in point: Most volunteers assume they will run to let off steam in their new country. However, running here is a cause of stress more so than a release. You get stared at as a foreigner here. These are stares that know no shame. Stares that you can feel without seeing. They are honest and curious stares, but can crack even the kindest of spirits. But a foreigner in shorts? Running? That is unheard of. Running here means being followed by hordes of children, the last thing you need when trying to let off steam.
I want to export coffee to benefit local farmers and provide an organic alternative to the Starbucks mess we have back home. The bureaucratic structure here has destroyed those dreams. Disappointment is part of the PC experience.
Doing something like the Peace Corps will be your lowest of lows and your highest of highs. Highs that shatter your previous world views. You will feel refreshed, walk in a forest and quote Thoreau. The lows can last so long that you need a fleeting moment of existentialism just to make it through the rainy season. Well, that, and a ton of movies. You will consider going home. You will count down the days until you leave. You will count up from the day you arrived.
“I can’t believe we’ve been here for a year.”
“I can’t believe we’ll be here another year!”
You will understand yourself, question yourself. Compare where you came from to where you are. I have days when I miss America. I have days when I loathe it. Why do people care about Charlie Sheen and Amy Winehouse? How many marines died last week? How many kids in the horn of Africa died of hunger? I can’t even imagine dying of hunger. When I’m hungry, I eat.
But I eat strange food. Ethiopian food is unlike anything else in the world. Sometimes it is delicious, but most times it is very mediocre. Other times, it is so incredibly bad that I consider burning down every plant that grows whatever the hell is in ‘gunfo’
Don’t try gunfo.
Universally, Peace Corps volunteers crave food. I have dreams about it. Vivid dreams where I belly flop into a bowl of ice cream off of a hot fudge brownie diving board. Sushi. I have a long distance relationship with Sushi and we are not communicating well.
As volunteers, we love to complain. We joke about our poop and our pooping locations. We laugh about smelling bad.
We smell bad.
We yearn for hot showers. But I think it’s just for show. Any volunteer, more so than food or showers, miss people and places. You will miss friends and seasons. During your service, you will be alone on the Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving. You will miss your family, your really hot girlfriend, and the contextual clues you associate with fond memories. I know what the Chesapeake bay feels like on thanksgiving. I can feel the football, and taste the sweet potato pie. I know what Glebe Park looks like, the green asphalt and the smell of cut grass.
You will be stared at 24/7 365. I understand what it’s like to be a good-looking girl at a frat party. Stay strong ladies.
You will develop an eerie sense of calm. I’ve spent 75 hours in the last two weeks on a bus. The DMV will be a breeze now. I’ve found new and embarrassing ways to entertain myself. I could watch paint dry and be perfectly happy.
One of the great things about Peace Corps is you have a massive amount of time to become a better person. The best advice I can give is to try and do something everyday to improve upon yourself. For some people this is writing or reading. For others it is teaching English or working out. Learn an instrument or paint. Do whatever works for you, but know this: You will stare at the wall. I stare at the wall a lot. I’ve had every thought someone can have. Probably twice.
Transportation completely sucks.
I just got out of a bus with 12 seats on it. There were 25 people on it. There were two chickens and probably 20 kilo’s of rancid butter. Here’s a quck letter:
Dear Ethiopia,
It’s ok to open the windows on the bus. I promise you won’t die from the wind. I promise it’s not that cold. Currently, sweat is running down my lower back and into the danger zone. My sweat is sweating. Fresh air is nothing to be scared of. Tuberculosis is. As much as I like saunas and the smell of chicken feces, can we please crack the window’s for 2 minutes? I will love you forever.
Yours truly,
Michael
There is no average day.
Last week, my Tuesday was crazy. I had a meeting with the tourism office about making them a website. I taught a man how to make guacemole and tortillas which he will sell in his store. I played basketball, added a layer to a clay oven and worked on the newsletter I am writing for Peace Corps.
The next day? I slept in, watched a silly amount of the show ‘Dexter’ and checked my fantasy baseball team while the internet was up. Yeah, I’m cool.
There will be times when, despite your pictures of you hugging little kids, you just want to tackle one of them and scream, my name is NOT,
“you you you!!!!!, give me money!!!!!!”
In America we ask for the time. Here, we ask for the month. It’s the most obvious difference. The pace of life here is slow, methodical, cyclical. Everything takes a long time. If you aren’t a patient person you will become one.
Life here is completely different. It is another world, lost in space and time. It is hard, and the little annoyances can manifest themselves into a black cloud. They certainly will, but it is important to make note of the small victories and the little moments. When I open my eyes I am reminded of why I am here. Just when I think a kid is running up to me to ask me for money, she tells me that she loves me and blows a kiss. But then I get on a bus and start crying. I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with a busted engine. It’s getting dark, I have a chicken in my lap and personal space at this point is a distant memory. People are yelling into their cell phones, begging me to speak to them and take them to America. Oh and the only food in the town by the road is Gunfo.
Remember in times like this to take a deep breath. Peace Corps really is a roller coaster. An exhilarating and scary ride that completely sucks and totally kicks ass.
And when you are feeling down, just remember to go outside and let Africa save you.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Workin like a dog
So I finally have a lot going on at my site which has been good and bad…
I’m doing a reusable sanitary pad project for international women’s day on March 8th. I got a grant to pay for everything through Peace Corps Gender and Development Committee (which I’m on by the way). Anyway, so my whole community has been behind this idea for awhile. We are going to have health booths, business lessons and HIV testing as well as keynote speakers. Every woman that attends is going to receive a free reusable sanitary pad. This is important because women usually miss school or work because they don’t have the money to buy pads or tampons in the shops. Reusable sanitary pads make it possible to have an affordable product and still be functional. Most women have seemed soooo excited about the project…But…
My supervisor has been…let’s just say unsupportive. Not only did he tell me that women won’t use the pads, he told me that they will cause diseases in women…BS! Here I am sewing 200 reusable pads when he comes in and tells me how he thought they were going to be made out of brand new material. The pads are made out of old sheets, towels and buttons…all things real village women CAN afford! He has no idea how hard it is to be a woman in the village on your period and try to work on the farm! Anyway, we have not been getting along because of this issue. I have assured him that you cannot get diseases from the product as long as you wash it properly. It’s difficult arguing with a Kenyan. He really knows nothing about health in the first place so I keep insisting that I am properly trained on this issue. So I had Peace Corps call him and I guess they convinced him into it, but who knows. I just hope he’s not spreading lies about the pads because I really believe in them and I think the women do too. I guess that’s all that really matters.
Anyway other than that, I went to visit my friend Eizzy again on her island, Rusinga. It was so nice to take a break after all this drama. Sangala is getting too big to travel with these days so I’m majorly missing him when we are not together, but he’s a sweetheart when I come back. By the way, I could use any de-fleaer when anyone decides to send a package! Those little sh*ts are everywhere lately!
Miss and love you all!
Andrea
I’m doing a reusable sanitary pad project for international women’s day on March 8th. I got a grant to pay for everything through Peace Corps Gender and Development Committee (which I’m on by the way). Anyway, so my whole community has been behind this idea for awhile. We are going to have health booths, business lessons and HIV testing as well as keynote speakers. Every woman that attends is going to receive a free reusable sanitary pad. This is important because women usually miss school or work because they don’t have the money to buy pads or tampons in the shops. Reusable sanitary pads make it possible to have an affordable product and still be functional. Most women have seemed soooo excited about the project…But…
My supervisor has been…let’s just say unsupportive. Not only did he tell me that women won’t use the pads, he told me that they will cause diseases in women…BS! Here I am sewing 200 reusable pads when he comes in and tells me how he thought they were going to be made out of brand new material. The pads are made out of old sheets, towels and buttons…all things real village women CAN afford! He has no idea how hard it is to be a woman in the village on your period and try to work on the farm! Anyway, we have not been getting along because of this issue. I have assured him that you cannot get diseases from the product as long as you wash it properly. It’s difficult arguing with a Kenyan. He really knows nothing about health in the first place so I keep insisting that I am properly trained on this issue. So I had Peace Corps call him and I guess they convinced him into it, but who knows. I just hope he’s not spreading lies about the pads because I really believe in them and I think the women do too. I guess that’s all that really matters.
Anyway other than that, I went to visit my friend Eizzy again on her island, Rusinga. It was so nice to take a break after all this drama. Sangala is getting too big to travel with these days so I’m majorly missing him when we are not together, but he’s a sweetheart when I come back. By the way, I could use any de-fleaer when anyone decides to send a package! Those little sh*ts are everywhere lately!
Miss and love you all!
Andrea
Monday, February 13, 2012
My West African Adventure
It’s the end of a long journey, a dream I’ve had for many years to explore West Africa, and as it comes to a close and I fly out back to Kenya tomorrow, I reminisce on the life changing memories Hannah and I have created in Togo and Ghana.
We arrived early Thursday, January 26, 2012 after a long layover in Ethiopia (what a diverse airport!). The flight was surprisingly longer than we expected considering it was an Africa to Africa flight. We arrived in Togo with nothing but ease, anxious to begin our travels. “We’re Peace Corps girls”, we thought, “we can do this, we can do anything.”
First thing was to ask a local how much a motor taxi should cost so we wouldn’t get ripped off. “2000 shafers”, he tells us. At this point, we’re still thinking we’re pretty smart, getting the local price and everything. Well it turns out that ride should have cost us 300 at most.
We arrive at Hotel Ibis, a grand luxary hotel positioned right no the beach with hot showers and even a pool…a PCV’s wet dream. Hover, the price was nowhere in the range of a PCV budget. We had heard of a place called Chez Mammy so we decided to search it out for a more reasonable price. Since we don’t speak any French, we assumed ity was pronounced the way it spells, “CheZ MaMMY.” No one knew what we were talking about as we walked around asking for the location of the hostel. It was getting really hot and our backpacks were getting really heavy when finally someone corrects us, “Oh, Che Mamme”…Finally we thought to ourselves…”Che Mamme died. No longer hotel.” The man was correct. The place was completely abandoned and we were stranded with our backpacks and the hot sun beating down on our tired bodies.
Luckily we had passed the Peace Corps office while searching for the dead Mamme so we decided to fold, pay for the nice hotel for one night, and in the morning check out the PC office to see if they could help us out.
Hotel Ibis was exactly what we needed. We had hot showers, shaved our legs, and had a peaceful dinner on the veranda overlooking the Atlantic. We even got a late night swim in their luxury swimming pool.
The next morning we prepared to give up our posh lifestyle and move into PC-like accommodation. We ran to the PC office to get some exercise and when we arrived we were greeted with welcoming arms. It’s amazing how much Peace Corps is like a big family, even when you’ve never met each other before. Togo’s Security Officer, Mike, printed us out a PCV’s guide to Togo, booked us a hotel and even drove us in their car. They assisted us in getting our Visas for Ghana and even suggested places to stay in Accra. We were so humbled by their kindness and it felt good to know we had a home away from home.
Our next few nights at La Gallion Hotel were fabulous. We met so many French expats and even a girl named Meg who use to be Peace Corps Macedonia and now works for the American International School in Togo. She took us out to a Reggae bar called Sunset where Hannah and I took turns playing the tambourine with the Rasta band and dancing our booties off.
Meg was such a sweetheart and offered us a place to stay in her house so after shopping around in the market and buying some beautiful traditional material, we packed up and joined her and her son at their cozy Togolese home our near the futbol stadium. The next day, Meg invited her PCV friend who is a 3rd year heath volunteer based in Lome over. We had a few cocktails to celebrate my 25th birthday and then headed off to the beach for some fun in the sun! We even danced around with some local church group that were having service under one of the massive palms that line the coast.
Later in the day, we headed back to La Gallion to stay for the night sine we planned on being out late celebrating my birthday. Meg’s boyfriend Gee and his friend Boris joined us and we all went out to La Rumba to watch one of the rasta guys sing that we had met a few nights earlier. Hannah and I sang “Hotel California” in front of the whole bar (although I’m pretty sure they turned off our mic because we were so bad). When we got home later in the night, we drank wine on the balcony and then made drunk top-raman with cold water in a beer mug. It was delicious.
Monday morning rise and shine, we were off to Ghana! We were so close, we could even walk across the boarder. So we slung our backpacks on and on foot headed towards Ghana. Merchants selling bread, fruits or jewelry lined the streets shouting out to us. Currency exchange hustlers trailed closely offering “cheap prices” for Ghanaian CDs. We gave our passports to an old man sitting at a broken desk and after examining them he stamped “Departed”, all without ever cracking a smile. We were on our way!
For some reason, we thought Accra was very close to the boarder, but on the contrary, it was 3 ½ hours away stuck on an overcrowded Tro-Tro. Accra was overwhelming to say the least. So many people overflowing into the streets, women carrying everything and anything on their heads, and children clinging onto you begging for money. When we got to Osu, we found the Salvation Army, which was to be our safe haven from the busy streets of Accra while we planned our next move. Salvation was extremely simple accommodation: 6 small cots lined the room without blankets, co-ed toilets and showers and a ceiling fan to keep us somewhat cool. For 7 CD a night we couldn’t really expect more.
We decided to relax for the night and explore the city the next day. We woke up bright and early to the local’s ever present noise in Salvation, and motivated ourselves to find something to do in this big city. We had read in our guide book about Jamestown, the only part of Accra that touches the ocean, so we headed out to explore. After 2 Tro-Tros and the hassle of figuring out which bus went where, we were dropped in Jamestown. Let’s just say, it was nothing like we expected. Yes, there was a lighthouse which was…ok…but the rest was just shanty towns scattered along the beach with visible feces popping out of the sand, gutters, and streets at us if to say “haha.” We tried to make the best of it by saying, “We’re exposing ourselves to all extremes”, but it didn’t really get any better. Fort Usher, one of the many slave ports along Ghana’s coast, lay in Jamestown so we thought we would at least check that out, but they wanted too much money and would not negotiate. So we headed back to our dumpy hotel, Salvation Army, feeling somewhat defeated.
After a little shopping, we felt rejuvenated. “The next day”, we decided, “we’re going to head up to Cape Coast.” We were ready to get out of Accra and really SEE Ghana. So we grabbed dinner at a nice little salad joint, picked up a bottle of wine and headed back to Salvation. We spent the night drinking wine and chatting it up with some German girls we met and then went to bed early determined to get up to Cape Coast come day break.
That was until around 1am Hannah starts feeling sick. “I threw up”, she tells me. I feel so bad and as I drift back to sleep, I pray to myself that she feels better in the morning so we can still head up to the coast. An hour later however, it’s me waking up. I rush to the toilet and out comes red wine along with the rest of my insides. It was not a pretty sight. The rest of the night Hannah and I switched off puking. Worst of all, the water at Salvation did not work at night, so we couldn’t flush any of it down.
When our alarm went off at 5:30am, we were still awake and sick. By 8am we were out of drinking water, so we forced ourselves to walk to get some. If we could barely make it across the street to get water, how were we going to make it to the coast?!
Well if you know Hannah and I, then you know we are determined and we don’t like to waste even a second of our lives. So around 11am, we faked up some energy, got to the Cape Coast Tro-Tro, and took the 3 hour ride (in traffic) up the coast. Once again, we had no hotel plans, and on top of that, we were still sick and exhausted, so when a taxi man suggested the Oasis Beach Resort, we jumped on it. To our luck, the hostel was a paradise. We stayed in a 12 person bunk room for 10 CD a night. It was right on the beach with lounge chairs, palm trees and best of all other tourists we could hang out with. Only a half an hour after arriving we were sweating out our sickness on the veranda when a guy walks by. “Hello”, we greet him. “Oh Americans”, he exclaims, Ï don’t get too many of you around here. What are you doing here?” “We’re Peace Corps Kenya”, we tell him. “Well Peace Corps Kenya, welcome to my site, I’m Peace Corps Ghana!” No way! The rest of the night we spent talking to David who has been a PCV in Ghana about as long as we’ve been in Kenya. Besides his site being a tourist hot spot, he gets to frequent the beach, has Cape Coast Castle to explore, and Kakum National Park! It was interesting discussing the differences between PC Ghana and Kenya and we were bummed we couldn’t show him how fun PCV Kenyans are because we were STILL sick so we retired back to our cabin and fell asleep with the sound of the ocean lapping the shore and our dreams.
The next day we woke up early to do the canopy walk at Kakum National Park. The rope bridges stand at least 100 feet off the forest floor and stretch far and wide. We don’t even notice the wobbling and bouncing as we walk along because we are mesmerized by the scenery. Thousands of trees spread vast across the landscape, green bursting through. The sound of the birds greeting us and the sway of the branches in the wind. I felt like Tarzan.
A nice couple let us take their taxi back with them and once back at the Oasis we had a lunch of crapes and then headed to Cape Coast Castle for the second half of our day. The Castle was founded by the Swedes, then taken by the Dutch, before finally being taken by the English in 1664. It remained English, later British, Gold Coast headquarters until 1876. Cape Coast use to be the capital of Ghana because of the slave trade that took place. Our tour was not only informational, it was quite bumbling. Thousands of slaves were kept in unsanitary conditions, ripped apart from their families and shoved onto a boat never know never knowing their fate.
After our tour, we spent some time on the port watching the fisherman and boats do business o the beach. Flags of all different colors lined the masses while green fishing nets were being untangled. Women were cleaning fish in the water and the men tended to the boats. I took some photographs and we left. On our way back, we ran into a preforming dance troupe that brightened the day with their rhythmic drum sand West African moves. As a dancer, I can really appreciate the authenticity. We spent the rest of the day relaxing on the beach. At night there was a man doing fire magic and he pulled me up on stage and put a cigarette out on my arm!
David had earlier told us of a Super Bowl party at the Embassy he was going to in Accra and we invited ourselves. So Friday, we headed back to Accra in the name of American football. We tried looking for a different hotel so we wouldn’t have to stay in the dreaded Salvation Army again, which was just a remembrance of how sick we were, but in the end we couldn’t find something in our budget so we were forced to give in to Salvation’s conditions.
We walked about 5km to the US Embassy, sat down exhausted and sweaty and asked, “Where are the Marines? We heard there’s a party tonight.” “Um that party is Sunday…” Oh my God! We were delusional, of course Super Bowl is on a Sunday! We’ve been away from America too long. So even though we were crying laughing at ourselves, the Marines invited us in for a BBQ and some American beer. We met Ghana Peace Corps Country Director, Mike, who was awesome! Some of the volunteers were also there and they “iced” Mike and he got down on his knee and chugged that Smirnoff like a pro! We friended the other PCVs and made plans to meet up later for 1 CD drafts.
When we got back to Salvation, we showered and laid down to nap, when all of the sudden, Steve (our new PCV Ghana friend), burst into our room and said we’re going out. It was so nice of him to motivate us when he knew we had been so sick. So we threw on some clothes and went out for 1 CD drafts with the rest of his PCV friends. It was cool talking to PCVs from Ghana and hearing what their experiences are like.
The next day we decided it was time to get out of hectic Accra and it wasn’t worth waiting around for the Super Bowl, so we packed up and took a Tro-Tro back to Lome where we ate at our favorite fast food restaurant, Aki, for lunch before we headed north 3 hours to KPalime.
In KPalime we stayed in a huge room and were the only guests in the hotel. Although the hotel was clean and nice, the guy who ran it was a total creep. He told Hannah he wanted to marry her and me to have his children since “we are both slim”…Yuck! So we didn’t spend too much time at the hotel, but instead enjoyed the beauty of Kpalime.It was just what we needed after a long week of food poisoning. Our first day we explored the market and went to a nearby hotel pool to bask in the sun. But our most exciting outing by far was walking up to Wome Falls where we could swim in the natural pools. It looked like a Garden of Eden with vines coming down, overhanging cliffs and clear waters. We took photographs and had a picnic of baguette and nutella.
Our trip was coming to an end so we headed back to Loe where we stayed with our friend Meg again for a few days. Meg has been more than gracious, cooking us food and taking care of us like a mama, something that feels so good after two weeks of travel. Now it’s back to Kenya tomorrow and I think we are both looking forward to getting back to our country. This trip has made us realize how much we appreciate Kenya. Most of all…WE MISS OUR PUPPIES!
BACK AT SITE AND IT FEELS SO GOOD
I spent an extra night in Nairobi after we flew in to visit with a girl name Ditte. She use to be a PCV at my site before the 2008 post election violence. Her and her parents were revisiting the country and they took Hannah and I out to a fabulous dinner at a place called Havana. I had ribs and prawns! Delish!
Now, I’ve been back at site for about 3 days and it’s been wonderful sleeping in my own bed again. My friend Daniel came to visit. He has been in PC for 3 years and is heading out in a few days to South Africa and then moving to Peru. We have been doing mediations and having great conversations about our spirituality. He calls himself an “Energetic Healer and a Spiritual Counselor”.
Anyway, I’m getting back into the hang of things and back to work in my schools. I have a meeting with the chief about the maternity ward again and I have to get cracking on my International Women’s Day event I’m throwing on March 8th.
Glad to be back at site, and missed it so much. Sangala is huge now.
CHECK FACEBOOK FOR NEW PHOTOS
THANKS TO DANIELLE, LIBBY AND MORGAN FOR THE AWESOME PACKAGE!
AND THANK YOU TO MY DAD FOR THE AMAZING BIRTHDAY GIFT!
We arrived early Thursday, January 26, 2012 after a long layover in Ethiopia (what a diverse airport!). The flight was surprisingly longer than we expected considering it was an Africa to Africa flight. We arrived in Togo with nothing but ease, anxious to begin our travels. “We’re Peace Corps girls”, we thought, “we can do this, we can do anything.”
First thing was to ask a local how much a motor taxi should cost so we wouldn’t get ripped off. “2000 shafers”, he tells us. At this point, we’re still thinking we’re pretty smart, getting the local price and everything. Well it turns out that ride should have cost us 300 at most.
We arrive at Hotel Ibis, a grand luxary hotel positioned right no the beach with hot showers and even a pool…a PCV’s wet dream. Hover, the price was nowhere in the range of a PCV budget. We had heard of a place called Chez Mammy so we decided to search it out for a more reasonable price. Since we don’t speak any French, we assumed ity was pronounced the way it spells, “CheZ MaMMY.” No one knew what we were talking about as we walked around asking for the location of the hostel. It was getting really hot and our backpacks were getting really heavy when finally someone corrects us, “Oh, Che Mamme”…Finally we thought to ourselves…”Che Mamme died. No longer hotel.” The man was correct. The place was completely abandoned and we were stranded with our backpacks and the hot sun beating down on our tired bodies.
Luckily we had passed the Peace Corps office while searching for the dead Mamme so we decided to fold, pay for the nice hotel for one night, and in the morning check out the PC office to see if they could help us out.
Hotel Ibis was exactly what we needed. We had hot showers, shaved our legs, and had a peaceful dinner on the veranda overlooking the Atlantic. We even got a late night swim in their luxury swimming pool.
The next morning we prepared to give up our posh lifestyle and move into PC-like accommodation. We ran to the PC office to get some exercise and when we arrived we were greeted with welcoming arms. It’s amazing how much Peace Corps is like a big family, even when you’ve never met each other before. Togo’s Security Officer, Mike, printed us out a PCV’s guide to Togo, booked us a hotel and even drove us in their car. They assisted us in getting our Visas for Ghana and even suggested places to stay in Accra. We were so humbled by their kindness and it felt good to know we had a home away from home.
Our next few nights at La Gallion Hotel were fabulous. We met so many French expats and even a girl named Meg who use to be Peace Corps Macedonia and now works for the American International School in Togo. She took us out to a Reggae bar called Sunset where Hannah and I took turns playing the tambourine with the Rasta band and dancing our booties off.
Meg was such a sweetheart and offered us a place to stay in her house so after shopping around in the market and buying some beautiful traditional material, we packed up and joined her and her son at their cozy Togolese home our near the futbol stadium. The next day, Meg invited her PCV friend who is a 3rd year heath volunteer based in Lome over. We had a few cocktails to celebrate my 25th birthday and then headed off to the beach for some fun in the sun! We even danced around with some local church group that were having service under one of the massive palms that line the coast.
Later in the day, we headed back to La Gallion to stay for the night sine we planned on being out late celebrating my birthday. Meg’s boyfriend Gee and his friend Boris joined us and we all went out to La Rumba to watch one of the rasta guys sing that we had met a few nights earlier. Hannah and I sang “Hotel California” in front of the whole bar (although I’m pretty sure they turned off our mic because we were so bad). When we got home later in the night, we drank wine on the balcony and then made drunk top-raman with cold water in a beer mug. It was delicious.
Monday morning rise and shine, we were off to Ghana! We were so close, we could even walk across the boarder. So we slung our backpacks on and on foot headed towards Ghana. Merchants selling bread, fruits or jewelry lined the streets shouting out to us. Currency exchange hustlers trailed closely offering “cheap prices” for Ghanaian CDs. We gave our passports to an old man sitting at a broken desk and after examining them he stamped “Departed”, all without ever cracking a smile. We were on our way!
For some reason, we thought Accra was very close to the boarder, but on the contrary, it was 3 ½ hours away stuck on an overcrowded Tro-Tro. Accra was overwhelming to say the least. So many people overflowing into the streets, women carrying everything and anything on their heads, and children clinging onto you begging for money. When we got to Osu, we found the Salvation Army, which was to be our safe haven from the busy streets of Accra while we planned our next move. Salvation was extremely simple accommodation: 6 small cots lined the room without blankets, co-ed toilets and showers and a ceiling fan to keep us somewhat cool. For 7 CD a night we couldn’t really expect more.
We decided to relax for the night and explore the city the next day. We woke up bright and early to the local’s ever present noise in Salvation, and motivated ourselves to find something to do in this big city. We had read in our guide book about Jamestown, the only part of Accra that touches the ocean, so we headed out to explore. After 2 Tro-Tros and the hassle of figuring out which bus went where, we were dropped in Jamestown. Let’s just say, it was nothing like we expected. Yes, there was a lighthouse which was…ok…but the rest was just shanty towns scattered along the beach with visible feces popping out of the sand, gutters, and streets at us if to say “haha.” We tried to make the best of it by saying, “We’re exposing ourselves to all extremes”, but it didn’t really get any better. Fort Usher, one of the many slave ports along Ghana’s coast, lay in Jamestown so we thought we would at least check that out, but they wanted too much money and would not negotiate. So we headed back to our dumpy hotel, Salvation Army, feeling somewhat defeated.
After a little shopping, we felt rejuvenated. “The next day”, we decided, “we’re going to head up to Cape Coast.” We were ready to get out of Accra and really SEE Ghana. So we grabbed dinner at a nice little salad joint, picked up a bottle of wine and headed back to Salvation. We spent the night drinking wine and chatting it up with some German girls we met and then went to bed early determined to get up to Cape Coast come day break.
That was until around 1am Hannah starts feeling sick. “I threw up”, she tells me. I feel so bad and as I drift back to sleep, I pray to myself that she feels better in the morning so we can still head up to the coast. An hour later however, it’s me waking up. I rush to the toilet and out comes red wine along with the rest of my insides. It was not a pretty sight. The rest of the night Hannah and I switched off puking. Worst of all, the water at Salvation did not work at night, so we couldn’t flush any of it down.
When our alarm went off at 5:30am, we were still awake and sick. By 8am we were out of drinking water, so we forced ourselves to walk to get some. If we could barely make it across the street to get water, how were we going to make it to the coast?!
Well if you know Hannah and I, then you know we are determined and we don’t like to waste even a second of our lives. So around 11am, we faked up some energy, got to the Cape Coast Tro-Tro, and took the 3 hour ride (in traffic) up the coast. Once again, we had no hotel plans, and on top of that, we were still sick and exhausted, so when a taxi man suggested the Oasis Beach Resort, we jumped on it. To our luck, the hostel was a paradise. We stayed in a 12 person bunk room for 10 CD a night. It was right on the beach with lounge chairs, palm trees and best of all other tourists we could hang out with. Only a half an hour after arriving we were sweating out our sickness on the veranda when a guy walks by. “Hello”, we greet him. “Oh Americans”, he exclaims, Ï don’t get too many of you around here. What are you doing here?” “We’re Peace Corps Kenya”, we tell him. “Well Peace Corps Kenya, welcome to my site, I’m Peace Corps Ghana!” No way! The rest of the night we spent talking to David who has been a PCV in Ghana about as long as we’ve been in Kenya. Besides his site being a tourist hot spot, he gets to frequent the beach, has Cape Coast Castle to explore, and Kakum National Park! It was interesting discussing the differences between PC Ghana and Kenya and we were bummed we couldn’t show him how fun PCV Kenyans are because we were STILL sick so we retired back to our cabin and fell asleep with the sound of the ocean lapping the shore and our dreams.
The next day we woke up early to do the canopy walk at Kakum National Park. The rope bridges stand at least 100 feet off the forest floor and stretch far and wide. We don’t even notice the wobbling and bouncing as we walk along because we are mesmerized by the scenery. Thousands of trees spread vast across the landscape, green bursting through. The sound of the birds greeting us and the sway of the branches in the wind. I felt like Tarzan.
A nice couple let us take their taxi back with them and once back at the Oasis we had a lunch of crapes and then headed to Cape Coast Castle for the second half of our day. The Castle was founded by the Swedes, then taken by the Dutch, before finally being taken by the English in 1664. It remained English, later British, Gold Coast headquarters until 1876. Cape Coast use to be the capital of Ghana because of the slave trade that took place. Our tour was not only informational, it was quite bumbling. Thousands of slaves were kept in unsanitary conditions, ripped apart from their families and shoved onto a boat never know never knowing their fate.
After our tour, we spent some time on the port watching the fisherman and boats do business o the beach. Flags of all different colors lined the masses while green fishing nets were being untangled. Women were cleaning fish in the water and the men tended to the boats. I took some photographs and we left. On our way back, we ran into a preforming dance troupe that brightened the day with their rhythmic drum sand West African moves. As a dancer, I can really appreciate the authenticity. We spent the rest of the day relaxing on the beach. At night there was a man doing fire magic and he pulled me up on stage and put a cigarette out on my arm!
David had earlier told us of a Super Bowl party at the Embassy he was going to in Accra and we invited ourselves. So Friday, we headed back to Accra in the name of American football. We tried looking for a different hotel so we wouldn’t have to stay in the dreaded Salvation Army again, which was just a remembrance of how sick we were, but in the end we couldn’t find something in our budget so we were forced to give in to Salvation’s conditions.
We walked about 5km to the US Embassy, sat down exhausted and sweaty and asked, “Where are the Marines? We heard there’s a party tonight.” “Um that party is Sunday…” Oh my God! We were delusional, of course Super Bowl is on a Sunday! We’ve been away from America too long. So even though we were crying laughing at ourselves, the Marines invited us in for a BBQ and some American beer. We met Ghana Peace Corps Country Director, Mike, who was awesome! Some of the volunteers were also there and they “iced” Mike and he got down on his knee and chugged that Smirnoff like a pro! We friended the other PCVs and made plans to meet up later for 1 CD drafts.
When we got back to Salvation, we showered and laid down to nap, when all of the sudden, Steve (our new PCV Ghana friend), burst into our room and said we’re going out. It was so nice of him to motivate us when he knew we had been so sick. So we threw on some clothes and went out for 1 CD drafts with the rest of his PCV friends. It was cool talking to PCVs from Ghana and hearing what their experiences are like.
The next day we decided it was time to get out of hectic Accra and it wasn’t worth waiting around for the Super Bowl, so we packed up and took a Tro-Tro back to Lome where we ate at our favorite fast food restaurant, Aki, for lunch before we headed north 3 hours to KPalime.
In KPalime we stayed in a huge room and were the only guests in the hotel. Although the hotel was clean and nice, the guy who ran it was a total creep. He told Hannah he wanted to marry her and me to have his children since “we are both slim”…Yuck! So we didn’t spend too much time at the hotel, but instead enjoyed the beauty of Kpalime.It was just what we needed after a long week of food poisoning. Our first day we explored the market and went to a nearby hotel pool to bask in the sun. But our most exciting outing by far was walking up to Wome Falls where we could swim in the natural pools. It looked like a Garden of Eden with vines coming down, overhanging cliffs and clear waters. We took photographs and had a picnic of baguette and nutella.
Our trip was coming to an end so we headed back to Loe where we stayed with our friend Meg again for a few days. Meg has been more than gracious, cooking us food and taking care of us like a mama, something that feels so good after two weeks of travel. Now it’s back to Kenya tomorrow and I think we are both looking forward to getting back to our country. This trip has made us realize how much we appreciate Kenya. Most of all…WE MISS OUR PUPPIES!
BACK AT SITE AND IT FEELS SO GOOD
I spent an extra night in Nairobi after we flew in to visit with a girl name Ditte. She use to be a PCV at my site before the 2008 post election violence. Her and her parents were revisiting the country and they took Hannah and I out to a fabulous dinner at a place called Havana. I had ribs and prawns! Delish!
Now, I’ve been back at site for about 3 days and it’s been wonderful sleeping in my own bed again. My friend Daniel came to visit. He has been in PC for 3 years and is heading out in a few days to South Africa and then moving to Peru. We have been doing mediations and having great conversations about our spirituality. He calls himself an “Energetic Healer and a Spiritual Counselor”.
Anyway, I’m getting back into the hang of things and back to work in my schools. I have a meeting with the chief about the maternity ward again and I have to get cracking on my International Women’s Day event I’m throwing on March 8th.
Glad to be back at site, and missed it so much. Sangala is huge now.
CHECK FACEBOOK FOR NEW PHOTOS
THANKS TO DANIELLE, LIBBY AND MORGAN FOR THE AWESOME PACKAGE!
AND THANK YOU TO MY DAD FOR THE AMAZING BIRTHDAY GIFT!
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