Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Ghana - Day 3
and chickens and any and every other animal. It was funny because all
night we had heard what sounded like pretty dangerous dogs but just a
few hours later they were all gone for farm animals. When I say we woke
up to the sound of animals, I don't just mean one or two, I mean
literally coming from every direction. It was pretty crazy, and I
imagine it sounded pretty similar to a chicken farm in the early mornings.
Anyway, we woke up and asked to use the toilet, which turned out to be a
shed with a hole dug into it (needless to say I held it). We then asked
where to brush our teeth, and were told wherever since obviously sinks
aren't an option. So we stood on the porch and brushed our teeth with a
bottle of water. It felt rather uncomfortable to just spit out on the
front of someone's home, even though the family did it too, but I think
it would have been worse to walk away to do it on grass. Our family
asked us if we wanted a "bath" (see later in this entry), but we said
after we go to the schools and instead went inside to change and grab
our bags.
Our Dad walked us over to Fred's, and continued to try to communicate
with us on the 15 minute walk despite the language barrier (though the
dad knew a few words of English, the wife knew none). During the
daylight, it was very different to see Senase than it had been the night
before. We walked past the library and 2 schools. Both were quite in
shambles, but all of the children there were happy as can be and all
waved at us. We also walked past tons of goats just EVERYWHERE. Like
people have dogs at home, there were goats here! There was also a soccer
field. There are not paved roads and instead their are dirt paths. We
saw maybe 5 cars drive down roads in Senase in our entire 3 days, so it
clearly isn't very common. Senase also doesn't have waste disposal, so
there are literally just these piles of trash in certain areas of the
village. They must have been 10 feet high and 30 feet wide, and there
must have been 10 of them that we passed, where years of trash just
rots. There is also trash all over other spots of the village, but the
majority did seem to be consolidated here. The smell was very
overpowering, but more than anything it made me realize how lucky I am
that a trash person comes to my house every single week to pick up my
mess. These people live in their own dirt. Another luxury I have never
truly appreciated.
By the time that we made it to Fred's it was breakfast time. Breakfast
was bread and a sauce, so I again tried to pretend I had already eaten
like the night before. This time, though, I wasn't so lucky. The
children left for school about ten minutes in (after playing soccer with
a bunch of us) and so it was pretty noticeable I was the only one
sitting there without a plate. Fred's brother came over to me and asked
why I wasn't eating. I had expected him to be insulted, but the truth is
he was genuinely concerned. I told him I get sick from a lot of foods
but not to worry, I brought my own. But he actually tried his best to
understand what the problem was and if there was any accommodations that
could be made for me. Wow. I told him it was okay and that I brought
enough food for the whole trip, but he really did seem anxious to help
me. This wasn't what I was expecting at all, and it took a lot for me to
win the argument. It was hard because I knew the plates and cooking pots
weren't clean and it wasn't worth the risk, but that's not something I
could explain and therefore it was quite a process. I am beyond touched
by how hard he wanted to try to make sure I eat. I had expected an
offensive remark when I wasn't eating, but what I got was genuine
concern for my need-to-eat. The people of Ghana never ceased to amaze
me. And I will not forget that hospitality.
After breakfast we walked to a meeting place of the village to meet the
tribal elders that we were supposed to meet the night before. When we
got there, the elders were all sitting in chairs against the far wall
and we were instructed to form a line, put our left hands behind our
back (the left hand is taboo in Ghana) and shake each one of their hands
(people shake in Ghana, they don't hug or kiss like Americans) before we
took a seat. I was surprised at what the elders were wearing -- only 1
was in "traditional" African attire, and the other 7 were in jeans and
polo shirts! I have no idea where they got these shirts (especially
since half of the shirts I saw people wearing they seemed to have no
idea what the idea was on it -- for example, I saw a few Mickey shirts
but no one knew who Mickey was), but I guess that's the Western
domination in action.
The elders spoke in Twi and Fred translated for them. They talked a lot
about the Senase Project, an organization started by the first SAS group
to visit Senase. The group has already raised the money to build one new
school and were working on funding for a second. However, the group was
debating upon if a school was the best choice for the village because
they don't have a hospital. It was completely heartbreaking to hear this
debate about building a school or a hospital. Why should they have to
choose one or the other? This is when I made it a plan to help with the
Senase Project upon my return home. This village NEEDS this (Tweek: For
anyone reading it, google the Senase project. You can see videos of
where I went and the amazing work they have done. You can also donate.
Trust me, they need it. We aren't going to miss $5).
When the elders were done we were treated to a traditional Ghanaian
dance by a female dancer and 2 male drummers. I caught the dance on
video, so hopefully I can upload it upon my return in May. It was very
different than I expected in that it involved some more provocative
dance moves I didn't anticipate in a place I had a per-conceived notion
of traditionalism in. It was nothing like the pop and grinds of America,
but still more than I had anticipated. The performance was quite
enjoyable and that, along with the CDs we heard on the bus ride, fueled
my desire to buy some Ghanian music when we hit Accra.
Following the performance we were divided into 5 groups to visit our
schools. My group had about 10 people and we were being led by Fred's
sister, Ophelia. The school was about 2 miles away and took us about an
hour to walk to. This school wasn't in Senase, but in a neighboring
village. Some groups went to schools in the village and some groups went
even further than we did. One group even went to the Senase Project
school. I'm happy with the school I went to, though. The previous two
SAS groups hadn't been to this particular school, and so for most of the
students it would be the very first time they even saw a white person. I
wondered what type of images they had of us in their heads and whether
we would live up to their expectations. I wondered what the school would
look like and what we would be doing. And I wondered if the kids would
even like us.
Along the way we learned a song that the children at the school like to
sing. I'll try my best to spell things correctly:
Ghanase Ghanase
Oh na na net tah se
Ghanase Ghanase
If we say, oh yay....satsooahh
... a bunch of words I won't even try to spell
I could never have imagined what happened next. The second we got within
eye sight of the school hundreds of children just came SPRINTING towards
us. They completely ignored all their teachers yelling at them to come
back. All of them just wanted to touch us. To say hi to us. To meet us.
We were like this foreign object that they just wanted to feel and talk
to and hold on to for as long as they could.
The headmistress tried her hardest to get the kids to go back to class,
but that wasn't happening. She even tried to bring us in to meet her,
but the kids just followed. Eventually, she brought us over to watch a
group of selected students rehearse a marching routine to celebrate
Ghana's independence day. Independence day is in March, but the students
were rehearsing a special routine because the country's president would
be coming to watch it.
Though this tactic worked for about 4 seconds, all of the kids soon came
running after us. We tried to watch the march, but it just wasn't
happening with all the attention the kids were giving us. So everyone
caved and we walked back over the school zone and took pictures with the
kids, blew bubbles with them, sang songs with them and just met as many
as we could. At one point, a bunch of the kids got in the middle of a
circle and sang a song for us. So, in response, we got in the middle of
the circle and sang "if you're happy and you know it" for them. I think
my smile could be seen in Nigeria it spread so far. This welcome was
more than anything my small brain could ever begin to fathom. It was
unreal. I don't think I will ever fully comprehend it.
After the singing and dancing, we were led to some chairs at the edge of
the field to sit while the classrooms regrouped. Here, we met a few of
the teachers and most of them just started listing everything that they
wanted for their school. One even asked us what we were going to "give"
them and that she really wanted a computer lab. I don't think anyone
really understood why we were there (including us - of course it was
incredible to be able to go, but we weren't really sure what our
expectations were), but the perception that all of us were completely
loaded Americans definitely was showing through.
Once all the classes were settled we were separated into 3 groups to go
into classrooms. My group was Jordan, Kendra, Dain and I. Unfortunately,
since the school was so far away we really didn't have much time in the
classrooms. We were going to be seeing 3 classrooms and only had 1.5
hours to do it. Our first stop was the little kids classrooms where we
met a group of 5-8 year olds. There were about 20 kids in the class.
They sat 2 per desk and each had their own pencil but not one of them
had a notebook. The classroom itself was held up virtually by just wood
pillars, and the ceiling was an open mess of wood as well. The floor was
quite possibly made of mud and the chalkboards were so dusty they must
have been older than I am. The two teachers were doing their best, but
even they didn't own a notebook.
The lessons the young children were learning mostly consisted of English
vocabulary. It is a goal of the Ghanaian education system to teach all
students English. This is being made easier as the education system has
improved in recent years (basically, students are encouraged to stay in
school like never before because food is provided for them, whereas
before the work needed at home outweighed the benefit of school). We
sang head, soldiers, knees and toes with them and handed out some of
goodies. I was able to give each kid a Mickey sticker and we made it a
lesson by teaching them how to spell mouse. I also had to hand out a
piece of paper to each child to do so because they don't have any of
their own. It was really crazy to me because none of them knew what a
sticker was! Again, American luxuries like kids having stickers. Some of
the other SAS kids handed out pencils, or things like that and before we
knew it Ophelia came in and told us it was time to leave. Before we
left, Dain set up his tripod and we took a class photo. I also pulled
out my Polaroid and took a photo of the class for the teacher which she
really seemed to love.
Our next class was of the older kids 8-12ish. This class was learning
sentence construction and the teacher asked us to help them with it.
Unfortunately, we only had like 10 minutes so virtually all we did was
pass out some of our goodies. This time, Dain took Mickey sticker duty,
while I gave out pens, pencils, highlighters and markers. The kids had
no idea what a stickers or highlighters were! So crazy! The teacher
actually asked me for a pen for herself too. It's unbelievable to hear
how even the teachers don't have proper materials. I went into my bag
and gave her two pens, a marker, a highlighter and a folder. I realize
that's absolutely nothing for a teacher in America, but this teacher was
so, so thankful. Before we left we took another class photo and when I
gave this teacher the Polaroid she reached over and gave me a giant hug.
It's insane how some small thing like a pen can truly make someones day.
The third classroom we went to was also of older kids, but it was a very
different experience. The teacher felt like we were interrupting her
teaching and had us just sit in the corner and watch. They were learning
sentence structures and verbs and this one kid kept volunteering to give
examples of new words. Every sentence he used involved the subject "the
white people." "The white people like to drink," "the white people play
guitar," and "the white people are going to graduate" are examples. They
had never seen anyone that wasn't black before, as we were the first
Senase group to visit this particular school, but I still thought it was
a bit strange.
Schooling in Ghana is quite different than in the U.S. Despite the
inferior build of it, it's focus is all different. Where we learn
biology and calculus, they learn mostly English. Since so many people
speak Twi or other tribal languages, English fluency is a goal.
Another note about the school: I did a project a year back for People's
of Africa on the educational system in Ghana. There are two things I
remember from this project:
*1 - students have to walk to school no matter how far it is and
often have to wake up as early as 3am to get ready and make it there on
time.
*2 - a government initiative to keep kids in school is to provide
free lunch. This would make it more cost affective for kids to stay in
school rather than be pulled out to work.
Schooling is only free for the primary years, and after that people must
pay. Therefore, a lot of people don't make it to a high school level
which is quite sad, but it's a vast improvement over many students not
even finishing primary school that existed before the food program.
When we left the classrooms all of the children swarm back out to say
goodbye to us and didn't want us to leave. They were also all holding
out their hands and saying "give me." I know they think we are all
loaded with goodies to give them, but truthfully we had given out
everything we brought in the classrooms and even if we did give 1 kid
something the rest would have jumped on us for more. It's not been easy
saying no to children, but I know I'm not done with it yet.
-After school we walked the distance back to Fred's house where all the
groups were meeting for lunch. There were 2 groups already there, and it
took another 2 hours for the rest to come. So we had to eat lunch very
fast because we had to make it to our dance lessons!
By the time everyone had gotten back the children had gotten out of
school and were naturally all hanging with us at Fred's. So when we got
up to go to a place to learn our routine, all of the kids grabbed our
hands and walked with us. So, so, adorable.
We would be learning the dance at this place that I have no idea what it
was. It was basically a slab of cement with benches on both sides and a
building in the back. We were divided into drummers and dancers (we got
to choose which we wanted - Dain drummed, I danced). Our two teachers
introduced themselves, they are friends of Fred) and the drummers
learned their part first. Meanwhile, a bunch of us dancers walked up the
street to buy some drinks at a little shack. In Senase, there really
aren't stores, but people have set up little tents where they sell
things. The tents are also common in the major cities, but there is
stores in those as well.
By the time we got back, dance lessons had already started but only
within a few minutes. So we joined one of the two sides and learned our
routine. It was really short and probably only about 1.5 minutes, but it
took us 3+ hours to learn because it was so different than any style of
dance we have seen. After the three hours we weren't even pros at it,
but it was dark and we were out of time, so it was more or a less a hope
that we could do it right the next day.
It was 2 hours after we were initially scheduled to end (because school
took a lot longer than planned) so we only had 45 minutes instead of 3
hours to go back to our homes. We had absolutely no idea how to get to
our house, so we walked back to Fred's and hoped to get someone to take
us. Lucky for us, our dad had come back to pick us up (aww), and walked
us back for a bit.
The first thing we did when we got back to the house was give our family
the first part of their gifts. We had brought for this a Semester at Sea
stuffed animal, Necco Waffers, Mickey Stickers and a Donald keychain. We
saw the daughter playing with the bear the next morning, so we think
they liked them ;).
After that, we were asked again if we wanted to take a bath so we said
yes. We were taken around the house to three walls where people in the
surrounding houses bathed. I went first and was given a bucket full of
water. Thankfully, I had brought soap, shampoo and conditioner, but no
towel, oh well. You literally just reach inside and start patting
yourself with water to clean yourselves. And if more than one person was
going to bathe (which usually happened) the next person and anyone else
after you also shared that same bucket of water. The water is also
contaminated so it isn't exactly clean, but like I said before most of
the people in the village do smell dirty (i'm sure I did by this point
too). I did feel somewhat refreshed after my bath though (though not
like the feeling of stepping out of a shower at home after a long day of
sweating). It was definitely an experience to wash myself with nothing
but a bucket in the open. Sure, there were walls, but no ceiling or
anything. Apparently, people in Senase do wash themselves once or twice
a day, but I wonder what it must be like to never fully be cleansed. I
am curious if they do have soap and shampoos here or if people just
rinse themselves off. On the ship, I have been upset at how dry my hands
have been from all the Purell I have used both on and off the land, and
here there are people in Senase that have no idea what the kind of
luxury is. It makes me re-think the little things even more. Had I known
about the extremity of situation, I would have brought purell, toilet
paper and soap instead of candy and toys.
We were rather rushed after our showers because we were already past our
45 minutes before dinner. We felt confident we could find Fred's
ourselves so we grabbed our flashlights and started walking. However,
the mother chased after us and took us. It's a good thing she did
because it was pitch black at night (no streets, so definitely no street
lights) and we never would have found it. It's so unbelievably sweet
that our family walked back and forth with us so many times. Some people
on the trip never even met their home-stay families and were entirely on
their own, but we got a family who treated us like their guests, and I
couldn't stop smiling.
We were supposed to go into town (I don't know which one - but it was a
bit away) to explore some of the nighttime stuff in the area, but the
electricity was out for a pretty wide radius and neither Senase or the
other villages had power. Fred told us nothing really works without
generators so we weren't going to go and instead were just going to stay
at his house for a few hours. A few hours ended up being like 1 before
we were walked back to our house for the night. The family was already
asleep when we got back, so we just went right to sleep, unbelieving
that this experience was basically almost over.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Ghana - Day 2
I had been laying in, sweating and being eaten by the bugs for the last
6 hours, but hey that's life and that was meant to be a description
rather than a complaint) to take a shower. Though I didn't have a towel,
I was craving that shower and went for it. I had woken up extra early
knowing there was only one shower and more than 1 person probably wanted
it, so thankfully that paid off and I was able to at least clean myself
somewhat, though I felt gross again by time I got back to my room and
doubt the filtration of the water I used anyway, it was comforting
knowing that's one less day I'd have to go without one. We packed up our
things and went to breakfast and the hotel restaurant at 6. It was
perfect timing because we got to see the sunrise! Breakfast consisted of
bread or toasted bread, so I pulled out a protein bar. Awesome for us,
the hotel has a little moat that is home to an alligator who was quite
giddy that morning and was jumping around! So after breakfast we watched
the alligator for probably longer than most people would before handing
in our keys (actual keys, not this american electronic stuff. Oh! And I
forgot to write in day one - these keys were just in the door when we
got there the night before! No getting it handed to you when you check
in, nope, you just grab it then. Very different than what I am used to.
A lot more trusting, it seemed) getting on our bus to depart at 7:30.
Our first stop on day 2 was Kumasi, a major city '3' hours from Cape
Coast (I put 3 in quotations because American time and African time are
quite different and it turned out to be about 6). Upon arrival, we
walked to a restaurant in the Ghanaian cultural center. Here, the
restrooms were similar to an American port-a-potty and had no toilet
paper or sink (Purell became my best friend on this trip). Lunch was a
buffet line, and although the white rice and french fries both were
probably okay, I made the decision not to risk anything on this trip due
to the long bus rides and poor bathroom situation so I had more protein
bars. Because we were on African time, lunch took 2 hours and we didn't
have time to go shopping in the village like we had initially planned.
But Fred (he had joined us at dinner the night before! I forgot the
mention that) promised we'd stop on the way back to Tema. And so we
headed for Senase!
We were all really excited to finally get there, but it was a '4' hour
drive away. About an hour into our drive, we were stuck in traffic
surrounded by traffic-vendors. It was Valentine's Day and a lot of us
girls realllyyyyy wanted some Chocolate, so when we saw a woman come
around with it, we were on that. Fred actually brought the women on
board and we hoarded this stuff like no other. The chocolate itself
truthfully wasn't very good, but I'm pretty sure buying chocolate on a
bus is so damn awesome that it didn't matter.
2 hours later we stopped to go to the bathroom. This time, we just
stopped at some woman's house! I'm assuming Fred knew her, but still. As
we were waiting to use the toilet I kept looking around her home
wandering if Senase would look comparable. Now, I know that this woman
was not a poor woman like the people of Senase. Her home had 4 rooms. It
also had a shower and an actual toilet (that didn't flush). She also had
toilet paper and her own personal water well! And, after we went to the
bathroom, she gave us water from a bucket and some soap to wash our
hands. This women was not poor -as I would soon find out in Senase, but
she still lacked all of these amenities we so take for granted. It
became crazy to see that what I used to consider poverty is actually a
dream for some people.
After going to the bathroom, 4 of us and Fred walked next door to a
nursery. Here, we had our first example of the kindness of Ghanians.
When we walked in, the child-care ladies greeted us and started handing
us babies that we could hold! When in America could you possibly walk
into a nursery and just start holding babies? Would.Never.Happen. It was
such an amazing feeling to be so welcomed by this people. We had gone
over simply curious of what a nursery in Ghana would look like. We came
out half an hour later having played with the children and being upset
to have to leave so soon!
After getting back on the bus, we drove another 4 hours before we
stopped on a main street. Fred told us we were very close to Senase and
that this was the closet major city, so he wanted to stop off to get his
family some Valentine's Day chocolates (awww!). Because it had taken so
long to get there, Fred told us that our welcome ceremony from the
village elders would have to take place the following day because it was
too late at night. That was a little disappointing because I think it
would have been a really cool welcome, but we were still excited to
finish our decent to Senase.
Twenty minutes later we started to hear screams and yells. We look
around and we start seeing children EVERYWHERE, just swarming our bus.
They are yelling for us, happy to see us! What an amazing feeling. As
the bus drove down the dirt path, the children followed us on both sides
and in the back, so obviously excited for our arrivals. Despite how
tired most of us were from the long bus rides, we all found ourselves
suddenly awake. Excitement and adrenaline took over and all of a sudden
everyone whips out their cameras and starts snapping in every direction.
When we stopped, it was kind of like a secret race to get off the bus as
everyone was so antsy and excited. When it was finally my turn I was
greeted by at least 10 kids who were just all chanting "hello!" The sea
of children became so overwhelming that I couldn't even make it to the
pile of bags to get mine! Once I did, it took maybe 30 seconds for one
of the children to come over and try to carry it for me - and no matter
how many times I said no he insisted anyway! These people were so
incredibly nice from the first second it completely took my heart. As
much fun as we were having meeting our new friends, Fred kept yelling
for us to follow him to his house. It was about a 15 minute walk and all
the kids came with us. Most of them tried to find an empty hand of one
of us to hold on too for the walk too, so cute.
When we got to Fred's house his family had lined up 35 lawn chairs for
us to sit in for dinner. The dinner was fufu with a sauce. I believe
fufu itself is GF, but I didn't want to risk being sick for a few
reasons on this trip (1 -- didnt want to miss out on the 2 days I had by
being glutened, 2 -- didn't want to get sick when my sick spot would
have been a hole in the ground already full other peoples waste) and so
I walked around and chatted with kids pretending I had already eaten and
just decided to persevere until late that night when I'd be alone in a
room and could eat my rice chex.
Throughout and after dinner all the children just kept wanting to say hi
to us and sit with us and take pictures with us. The most astounding
thing to me wasn't the smell of the children (definitely not their
fault, but clearly not-as-clean as Western ideals), or the
attention-grabbing (I tried to start handing out silly bands, but
literally got BOMBARDED by children, to the point where the older kids
were pushing the younger ones to get 6 or 7 of them and I had to stop
giving them :() but the camera situation. You see, after we took a
picture all of the kids who had jumped in would ask us to see it. And
they all pointed to the camera and tried to figure out which one they
were! It's a thought that never even occurred to me -- but these kids
had absolutely no idea what they looked like. They do not have mirrors
nor anything close to a camera, and they (and most of the adults) have
gone their entire lives without a single idea of their appearance. It's
so crazy to think about because Americans are so involved with what they
look like that they carry mirrors around in their purses, yet these
people don't even know what their own smile looks like. On the MV, I
walk in my cabin and see a giant mirror lining my back wall (where
outdoor cabins would have a window). I turn to my desk to see another 3
sided mirror, and then I go into the bathroom to have another mirror.
Three mirrors in one room, these people will never have any. It really
makes me think of the luxuries we have and take for granted. What must
it be like to not know who you are in a photograph? It also makes me
re-think appearances. Some Americans spend hours in front of a mirror to
attract other well-groomed people. But in Ghana they don't have that
system of friendship. You may be able to see what others look like, but
if you can't compare perception of yourself on that level it becomes an
impossible idea to form relationships based on appearance. The idea of
attraction is different. It can't be based on appearance. You can't say
"you look good together." If someone tells you that you look like your
mother, that is the best assumption you have on the way you look. Seeing
yourself in a puddle might be the closest you will ever get.
After a few hours the children had to leave to go home because they had
school in the morning. This was to the students and children's great
dislike, but we had meeting our families tonight and going to the
schools in the morning to look forward to.
So after the children left we were taken in groups to our new "homes."
Dain and I were the very last group to be brought, and one of the
furthest houses in the village away from Fred's. When we arrived, our
Dad and his wife were sitting outside with one of their children. They
showed us our room, which was a room with a bed and a TV. I was
surprised about the TV, as I didn't think that type of technology
existed out there, but I noticed throughout my stay that people from
the surrounding houses too actually surrounded themselves around this
one tv - so I guessed it was a bit of a luxury. It did indeed turn out
to be a luxury, but it also wasn't unheard of. What I would learn is
that a lot of people purchase TVs over extra snack foods or home
repairs, because the TV gives them something to do and allows them to
socially connect with others.
Dain and I sat outside and tried to talk to have a conversation with our
new family. The other child came back at some point as did a few kids
from the area. I have no idea what my family said to us - and I'm sure
they had no idea what we said, but yet it was still the most powerful
conversation I have ever had. At first we were all out of our comfort
zone, where someone from both sides kept suggesting bed, but the father
and I kept saying no. At the end, I think everyone was glad we
persevered. There are no words that can describe what it is like to sit
there and talk for to someone for 3 hours without either side
understanding one another but trying their absolute hardest.
Closer to the end of the night a neighbor came over that spoke pretty
good English, and she sort of became the moderator of the conversation.
She was only 12, but her English was very, very impressive. Her name was
Bernice and she told Dain he was very attractive and that she wanted to
marry him and move to America. We took this as a joke and I actually got
up and let her sit next to him, but in our next few days as we got
proposed to time and time again we started to learn that these people
very much want to make it to America. But still, Bernice was very sweet
and a great translator for us. She was curious to know about America and
kept asking us to teach us about her culture and she would teach us
about her. She wanted to go to medical school and make it out of Senase.
She says she has never gone far because she hasn't had the money, but
she doesn't dream of seeing Accra, she dreams of seeing the world. It
was very empowering to see someone who wants so much for herself. She
gave us her address and asked us to send her English books when we got
home so she could learn to read and write better. And I promised myself
I would do everything I could to make that happen for her.
Around midnight, we went to bed. I was wide awake and could have talked
for hours. As could Bernice and some of the other kids, but wake up
calls are around 4am there, so we let the adults get some rest.
We went into our room and i devoured my rice chex. I had been so caught
up in the moment that I forgot how hungry I was, but then it hit me that
I hadn't eaten anything but 2 protein bars all day. After that Dain and
I ventured out to find where to pee, and about 3 minutes away found a
wall we assumed was it. After, we went back into our room and sprayed
everything down with 139102320 pounds of bug spray before laying into
bed. The bed was rock solid, but it was a bed, which is more than I
expected.
Our first day in Senase behind us, we were very much looking forward to
our visits to the schools in the morning.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Ghana - Day 1
days, that's all it took. From the second we stepped off the bus to use
the restroom to the moment I stopped back on the MV four days later I
could feel myself changing.
I'll try to do my best to describe this, but I don't know how much words
ever could.
At our preport the night before we docked in Ghana, we were told we
would be arriving an hour early around 7am into Tema. So, at 6:20 the
next morning, I was on deck 8 staring at land and watching as we pulled
up. Apparently, only 6 cruise ships a year dock in Tema, so we were sort
of a big deal (actually, I was surprised it was even 6...and I'm curious
to know where the other ships come from) and were greeted with a
drumming performance on the dock! Around 7 we docked and Ghanaian
officials boarded the ship to check everyone's visas and passports, as
well as issue them to the students who STILL didn't have them (thanks
again, Pinnacle. In fact, over 60 students lacked Ghanaian and Indian
visas upon arrival into Ghana, and although Ghana wasn't much of an
issue to receive landing-passes when we docked, the whole group,
including a few people who were supposed to be on my trip, had to give
up their first day in Ghana to go to the Indian embassy and hope they
could get visas in person). Meanwhile, we had breakfast and then went
into the union to have one last performance from Sharif Ghali. At 10:45
the Senase Village trip met in the Garden Lounge and headed out to start
our adventure.
We stepped out into the Ghana air and were immediately "greeted" by
vendors who were stationed at our port. They were all trying to pull us
over to their stands or trying to sell us stuff they had in their hands.
Some of them were even putting bracelets around people's hands while
they were saying no. A little crazy, but it's easy to understand why
people have to do this - they are trying to outsell the person next to
them to feed their families, and it's very rare they get "rich"
Americans (while this may not be true, in Ghanians eyes any American is
rich, and, to be honest, anyone that can afford Semester at Sea, or even
a college education in America, has more money than these Ghanaians) to
make money off of. After a few minutes of standing there looking for our
guide, Fred, we decided to try the shuttle to the main port and see if
he was there. The problem with that was a) that the shuttles only ran
every half an hour and b) that the shuttles were quite small and there
was no way all of us, plus our overnight bags, were fitting into just
one. We had just missed a shuttle so we waited around for a while for
the next one. Some people went to the vendors while others just stayed
near the ship. When the first shuttle came, I was one of the ones to get
on, and after about a ten minute drive, we pulled into a gas station
that was apparently our drop off point. Although Fred wasn't there, some
of his friends were to pick us up, so we had found the right place.
While we waited for the rest of our group, more vendors started trying
to sell to us, and I must admit it's been very difficult to deal with
these types of situations in ports. It's just something I am not used to
and it's really hard to just shove people off and say no over and over.
Half an hour later, another shuttle pulls up with what we think is the
rest of our group. Turns out, however, that the same group of 5 or 6 who
decided to throw their bags down to go shopping while we waited at the
boat had decided to go and get peanut butter sandwiches and missed the
shuttle. So we had to wait yet another half an hour for them to get
there, and then, finally, 5ish hours after our initial planning time (we
were planning on 9, but we didn't clear customs and weren't allowed off
the ship until later than that), we were ready to go. We walked about
half a mile to our bus and got ready to head to Cape Coast.
About two hours in we stopped to 'use the restroom' at a gas station.
This was my first experience with Ghanaian, or poor country, pluming,
and it turned out that the restrooms were series of walls in which you
peed on. A lot of the girls decided not to do it, in hopes that the
facilities at cape coast in 2 hours would be better, but I pulled out my
charmin-to-go and purell and went for it. This was my first eye opening
experience. I couldn't believe that this is the way people are forced to
live, and they don't have the commodity of travel toilet paper or hand
sanitizer, and it made me re-think my complaining about gross gas
station bathrooms in the U.S. I'll never forget the experience (or the
smell), but I won't go into too more detail on it and instead just say
that afterwards we all got back on the bus to head to Cape Coast. We
were supposed to stop to grab lunch, but we unfortunately so far behind
that we had to continue onwards so we made it to the slave dungeons
before they closed. We made it to Cape Coast around 4pm and took a five
minute walk to the castle and slave dungeons. Within the 5 minutes, we
were again bombarded by people trying to sell us things.
Sidenote: You can literally buy ANYTHING on the streets in Ghana, and
most people sell stuff from buckets on top of their heads! I kind of
only thought that was in movies, but so many women walk around with a
giant bowl filled with one thing or another on their head, while
carrying a baby on their back while holding something in their hands -
geez, Ghanaian got talent. Some of the stuff being sold was anything
from water to fruit to paintings to jewelry to toiletries to flags to
ice cream to even microwaves! And probably everything else in between.
And, not only can you buy this stuff while walking around the street,
you can even do it in the car! People walk up and down trafficy roads
(if you think New York City traffic is bad, you haven't seen nothing)
and you can just open your window and buy! The first day we were all a
little freaked by this, but as you'll later read we became pretty open
to it in our 4 days.
When we arrived at the castle we all had to pay a $1 (US money) fee to
use our cameras (our entrance fees were covered by the tour, so I'm not
sure of the price) and went inside. At first glance, it looks more of
less just like an old war fort. Cannons everywhere, rocky waves of the
ocean, steep and dark paths that you have no idea where they lead to,
sealed doors and offices overlooking the courtyard. I'm not sure it even
hit me where we were at the point, because it didn't seem much different
than stepping through Gettysburg or Fort Sumter. We were instructed to
go through the museum first as it closed at 4:30, so we all made our way
there and started to walk around. It was really fascinating and all at
the beginning, but I still didn't start to realize where I was until I
walked into the mock slave ship. I've seen these in American museums,
but there's something entirely different and entirely overwhelming about
stepping into it in Ghana. Unfortunately, midway through my journey
time was up and I had to leave, and I'm still a bit tweaked I didn't get
to see the rest of the exhibits because it really did look awesome. But,
I abided and went with the rest of the group to meet our tour guide.
The point where I mention that we met our tour guide is really the end
of how much my narration can do this trip justice, but for my own sake
to look back upon (I'm HORRIBLE at writing in my journal here - so much
so that I actually gave the blank notebooks I had brought for journals
and hadn't written in to the schools in Ghana as paper, which you'll
read about later) and hopefully to shed even the slightest bit of light
on this extraordinary week I will do my best.
The first place our tour guide took us was to the dungeon. The dungeon
is a small and crammed room off to the left corner that is literally
nothing but stone walls and a mud floor. Today, there exists one single
little light at the top to illuminate the room to visitors, but at the
time of slave-trade operations it was completely black. You had to take
a few stairs (maybe like 7) to get up there, and that was simply to put
a space between the white guards and the black prisoners. Once we were
all inside the tour guide shut off the light. Half of us jumped at this,
but looking back I am so glad he did this. You see, his story of the
room was presented in the dark, the way it would have looked to an
African. The dungeon was the place where rebellious prisoners were kept.
Anyone who tried to escape or runaway would be put in here to die. Two
to six people would be thrown in the dungeon at one time and they
wouldn't be returned to for a week or more. In this small little room
the prisoners slept, sat, stood, disposed of bodily fluids and anything
else that would occurred. If you noticed, I didn't include the words eat
or drink in what they would do in this room. That's because they didn't
eat or drink - the prisoners were put there to die. They were to die of
either starvation or disease, and the next time they came outside once
being put in was to take out their body. Hearing this story in the
darkness the Africans would have experienced was completely horrifying
but also completely necessary. I started to feel the surge of guilt that
continues to plague me. The big sense of guilt that continues to bother
me didn't doesn't relate to the fact that the place where I call home
were supporters of this cause, but rather that if I had lived 200 years
ago it is quite likely that I would have seen absolutely nothing wrong
with this system. Even if I didn't own slaves myself, I, like most
Americans at the time, would have thought the black race inferior and
not worthy of a real life. I would have supported people being thrown
into these sells or hoarded off as cattle. I guess growing up we had
always learned about slavery and knew it was wrong, but this was a new
sensation for me. I expected to feel guilty about being white - I didn't
expect to realize this completely traumatic thought. To anyone at home
reading this - please continue to think about it while I go on about the
slave dungeons. You may say to yourself "slavery is wrong, I never would
have approved of it" but the truth is, most of us would have. It's
completely horrible to think about and I can never, ever fathom that
being okay, but putting myself in the mindset of someone 200 years ago I
know I, and most others, would not have this thought.
When the guide turned back on the light, I realized I wasn't the only
one shaking. If this was the first stop, I couldn't imagine what would
come next.
Our next stop was the outside of the male dungeons. We stopped and heard
our guide speak outside the door for about 5-7 minutes. He told us that
once we ascended the path to the dungeons we would see 5 rooms. Each one
of these rooms would have held 100 people. These people were just in
holding - waiting for boats to be shipped off to the Americas. Disease
ran rampid and bathrooms weren't existent and were just the corner of
the room. These rooms were also dark and far too crowded, but these
people weren't there to die and were given minimal amounts of water and
food (not that the situation is any better because of that). Outside of
the gate is a plague dedicated to and by Barack and Michelle Obama.
Apparently, Ghana was the first African country Obama visited as
president, doing so in 2009. They came specifically to Cape Coast Castle
because Michelle can actually trace her ancestors back to slaves that
were held and shipped from this port.
We ascended the long and dark pathway into the male cells and saw pretty
much larger versions of the things we had seen in the dungeon. Longer
and bigger rooms, that also held a whole lot more people. In the back
room, however, we saw something a bit different. This room was more well
lit than the others, and showcased dedications from people who left
flowers, cards, notes and more to their ancestors or simply for the
cause. There was also a man there who performed a ceremonial ritual to
the ancestors to pray for the well being of the spirits of slaves and
the future of African peoples. The speech itself was in the native
language, but I still felt rather empowered by him kneeling down, to
standing up to drinking a sacred drink. For any of you who have seen my
bedroom at home, each cell was probably about twice the size. But
instead of holding one person, it would hold 100. To anyone who hasn't
seen my bedroom at home, the best example I can come up with to explain
the size is probably around the size of a larger 7-11 or other
convenience store. Imagine, 100 people with no light squeezed into this
one room for weeks or even months at a time, swimming in your own and
everyone else's feces and germs. It's no wonder so many people didn't
live to even get on the boats.
After the male cells we went outside to look over the canons and into
the oceans. Like I said, seeing the coast and shore below before
actually looked rather beautiful, like an old military scene preserved
in history. But now, as our guide talks about the boats being loaded up
right there, it no longer looked so pretty. I looked out onto the shore
and could picture human beings being tied together and thrown in massive
pacts onto these boats. Already worn down from lack of food and
sunlight, they used whatever energy they had left in one last fight.
Suddenly, the canoes parked below me looked revolting, as I could only
see them as smaller versions of the slave trade ships. And the surge of
guilt continued. Any one of those people could have been destined to be
bought by someone I am related to. I don't know my family heritage that
far back, but just because I don't know if my family had slaves or not
doesn't mean I'm immune to seeing it unfold in front of my eyes. It was
literally a scene from a movie where a character starts to picture
something happening in his head and it happens on the screen. I could
literally see the slaves being ravaged across the rocks, getting blacks
and blues and being blinded by the sunlight they had been hidden from
for so long. I could see them being chained up and hoarded like
something worse than pigs for slaughter. In one respect, I almost
couldn't go on. In another, I knew I had to.
After the canons and the dock, we went into the female holding cells.
These were even smaller than the male cells, but virtually very similar
in having a dirt floor, stone walls, and nothing else. The female cell,
however, did have one small window at the top of one of the walls. I
imagine that had something to do with white males peering in on the
naked females, but that's just a guess. Regardless, having a small
window really didn't make the situation at all any better. The female
cells were located right before the door of no return. The door of no
return literally has that inscribed across it. It is a large door that
the slaves would be forced through to be loaded onto the ships. It was
called the door of no return because that's exactly what it was. For
slaves, it was the last view they would ever have of Africa. After being
rounded up and shoved into holding cells for weeks, whoever had made it
through the disease of the cells and was still alive would be walked
across the courtyard (about a 3 minute walk for the men, 20 seconds for
women, I'm guessing) to enter this door and be forced onto a small, also
dark and crowded ship. I'm trying as hard as I can, but I don't think I
will ever be able to comprehend what it must have felt like to walk into
a situation where you didn't know what your future held, but you knew it
wasn't good, and see a locked door that says "the door of no return?"
We walked through the door and I cannot explain how that felt. Africans
didn't know what to expect when they were rounded up. There was no
system of news for people in Africa to know what was happening after
their relatives and friends were taken, but they knew it wasn't good.
They had been thrown in cells for extended periods of time and taken
beyond a door that promised no return. They had been separated from
their families, watched their friends die in the holding cells and been
starved to the point of bare-bone survival. Did walking through the door
of no return in shambles and chains bringing a feeling of hope for a
brighter future in the new world and hope of good "ownership?" Did they
even know they were being sold as lifetime laborers? That their future
kids were being sold as lifetime laborers? Or did they harden a fear
that this was the good part and the worst was yet to come?
Once we walked through the door of no return we were on the dock.
Surprisingly, a market was allowed to be built here. I guess it's a
tourist place to make money, but the hustle and bustle of people really
did take away from the experience. At one point, I even found myself
hitting Dain to show him the Ghanaian wearing a Tom Brady jersey. Sure,
that was cool, but when I tried to take a picture of him I kind of
realized I had been severely pushed out of the moment and was happy to
cross back into the dungeons (well, not exactly happy, of course, but
more-so just drawn to being completely involved in my surroundings). On
the other side of the door, to cross back into the dungeons, reads "door
of return." Though it was very clear this was added later, after the
slave trade, I still quite dislike it. Africans would never see the
return side. And I'm sure we could all figure out that was the way back
in without the sign. To me, it seemed like a sick joke.
Our tour was concluded by an amazing speech by our guide that I wish I
had recorded. He told us that the past is the past and that we are a new
generation that could treat each other the way we deserve to be treated.
He gave thanks to America and President Obama (he is quite big in Ghana)
and thanked the lord for giving him the chance to share this. It's
important to know history, but it's also important not to hold grudges
from it. He told us that he holds no grudges against our ancestors for
what they did, that this generation is free to make their own marks on
history. So let's all unite, and make our mark a good one.
We were only in the slave dungeons for 45 minutes. But it had seemed
like hours. I felt awakened anew. I felt invigorated. I felt guilty. I
felt thirsty for more but afraid of what I was to find.
Quickly, we were transported back to reality as we were bombarded with
sales people. In groups, we were taken to ATMs to withdraw Cedi,
Ghanaian currency (fun fact: Cedi isn't availible outside of Ghana at
all, in attempts to increase its international value) and while each
group went the rest of us were pushed by sales people. Even at the ATMs
young children were trying to force their product upon us - telling us
they just saw us take out money and they can't afford any food and are
hungry. This is completely heartbreaking, but something we all have to
learn to overcome. We learned quite quickly that if you gave into one
child, 50 more would come running, and it just isn't possible to help
them all. I wanted to cry (and did) more than once on this trip, and
saying no to these children was the first time I felt completely rude,
hopeless, useless and selfish. As hard as it is though, we had to say
no. We had been told this time and time again, by various people on the
ship and by our guides. And we had to be strong.
After getting back on the bus our next stop was to Hans Cottage, a hotel
about 45 minutes away that we were staying at for the night as our
village, Senase, was too far of a drive to finish that evening. We were
divided into groups at Hans Cottage, 17 people were in one giant hostel
while the rest of us were in groups of 2 or 3. I was in a group of 2 and
shared a room with Rosemary. The room was simply 2 beds, pushed
together, and one nightstand. There was no air conditioning and only one
light. The beds were dirty and the window had a hole in it. There were
also no bathrooms within the room. We had to walk down the path, maybe 6
rooms down, to find 2 toilets (actual toilets that flushed! Even though
they were dirtier than any American gas station I've seen, the luxury of
flushing toilets was already something I had come to appreciate) and one
shower (which was filthy and only ran with cold water, but A SHOWER
ah!). What amazed me most is that this was not cheap Ghanaian hotel -
this was something of a luxury. Flushing toilets and a shower, this was
an expensive hotel. In America, it was of an inferior quality to a motel
6 - but in Ghana it could be paradise. The difference is quite
astounding and totally awakening. I had been shocked by the what I
perceived as lower quality of our hotel in Rio, but this Ghanian hotel
was quite worse. The feeling of being blessed beyond belief quickly came
into my mind. At nice hotels in America, you don't have to worry about
being eaten by virus-infected mosquitoes while you sleep. You don't have
to squat over a toilet to pee. You even get to pee in your own room! And
there's electrical outlets to plug your dependents into! What luxurious
lives we live that I never seemed to fully appreciate.
After putting our things down we went to the restaurant to eat. This was
the first taste of "African time" that I got. It took about 45 minutes
for our waiter to take our orders, and another hour for it to be
brought. I ordered nothing but white rice, which would turn out to be my
only real meal of the entire trip. And the food isn't brought out all at
once, but rather a few dishes at a time with some more coming 10ish
minutes later and more after that. Tables were getting mixed up too, so
that Dain was the very last one to get his food even though the table
around him that ordered later had already finished eating. And instead
of checks another employee just came over to each person and told you
what you owe. Quite strange. And drinks are paid for separately. You pay
at the bar for drinks, including soda, and just pay for your food at the
table. It was about 10:30 by time we were done eating and some people
went to the pool while others went to our rooms to go to sleep. I went
to my room to sleep, simply because I felt the pool probably wasn't so
healthy to be swimming in.
And so concludes my first day in Ghana. Already eventful, I had trouble
falling asleep while processing my day and my trip thus far. It had
already been eyeopening, and we hadn't even made it to the village...
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Life at Sea
I know, I’m slower than molasses at this, but finally some updates on living on a boat!
--What the boat is made up of: Our boat has 8 decks, 2 dining halls, 9 classrooms, and 700 people. 525 of those people are students. Another 150 or so are professors, lifelong learners, or family of the two. The remaining? KIDS! The children of professors or lifelong learnes who come aboard and are homeschooled at sea…SO COOL. This voyage has 37 kids ranging from age 2 to age 17. I live on the 4th deck in an inside cabin. Inside cabins have absolutely no window, and although that didn’t sound too bad on paper, it’s really quite an adjustment. It is dark ALL the time. So waking up, no matter what time it is, absolutely sucks. We are also near the front of the boat, so we rock A LOT. The room itself is a lot bigger than I thought it would be and actually really nice. The walls and ceiling are also magnetic, which is damn freaking cool.
--Seasickness: I’m STILL seaksick. It has been 33 days and I have yet to not feel dizzy or nauseous while at sea. There have been some days where the waves were so bad that I literally couldn’t leave my room, but most of the time its just a constant state of feeling like I’m about to be really, really ill. Some people have had no problems at all, and some have been worse than me though. I’ve been using sickbands, taking seasickness medications, having sucky candies, drinking water nonstop and sitting outside looking at the ocean and nothing works. Hopefully I’ll get used to this eventually.
--Classes: Classes on Semester at Sea are NOT easy. I have more work than I have ever had in college, and this is the first time ever in my life I am not ahead on my work. In fact, I’m even a little behind but I literally do hours upon hours of work a day. It’s hard not having weekends to catch up. It’s even harder having less class periods than a typical semester at home because it just means more and more work. It’s not like I despise my classes and everything about them, though. My sociology of marriage and family class is hands down my favorite. This is my professors 4th voyage on SAS and she really knows what is up and how to keep our interests. She also comes from Cornell, and it’s so cool to be having a class taught by an Ivy-league professor. The topics are incredibly interesting and this is by far the most intriguing textbook I have ever read (I actually have to convince myself to put it down sometimes). Despite being at 8am (which is usually really 7am…see section on time changes), I really do look forward to this class. My social movement media class isn’t really what I expected and is kind of a disappointment. I don’t hate it, but it’s not the most interesting thing either. I am really exciting for he FDPs to indigenous radio stations, however. History of Modern China started out as a zombie-fest, but has gotten *slightly* better. And global studies is actually really, really enjoyable.
--Food for everyone without allergies: I’m sure I’m not the first one to say this: but the food is repetitive. The buffet line consists of iceburg lettuce, pasta, potatoes, some sort of meat, bread, peanut butter and steamed veggies virtually every lunch and dinner. Variations of this usually result in celebration and REALLY long lines. Today, for example, there were grapes! And I must have been 20 people back in line just to get some. A few days ago, we had our first taco day, a rarity but something certainly treasured, and the line was probably 25 minutes long and people were singing about tacos all down the hallways. Breakfast consists of eggs, an omlette, bacon, sausage, fruit, yogurt, French toast and danishes almost every day. The big change in breakfast is that french toast is sometimes pancakes. Nothing else has changed since day 1.
--Food for people like me: Semester at Sea is AMAZING about handling allergies. Absolutely amazing. The head waitor, Ronnie, literally makes me a special meal for both lunch and dinner every single day and brings it out to me and everyone else with allergies. My food is usually even more repetitive than even everyone else’s – but they really do take amazing care of us with allergies. Usually, I get some sort of meat, steamed veggies and some sort of potato. Sometimes, I get dessert too! They have GF cookies on the ship, as well as jello. They also have ice cream but I don’t get that because I’m lactose intolerant. Even though I eat it at home and ignore the lactose intolerant-ness, it’s on my medical records and they don’t really serve me it here. However, the food is really good and I have nothing bad to say about the way it is handled. I am so impressed with it.
There is also a piano bar on deck 6 open 24 hours a day and a snack bar on deck 7 open most of the day. The food here is for purchase, but they sell a lot of stuff to escape the repetitiveness. They sell candy bars – M&Ms, Peanut M&Ms, Reese’s, Butterfingers, Hershey Bars, Kit Kats, Skittles, Sour Skittles and Starburts, as well as some chips and granola bars. The piano bar also sells coffees and sodas while deck 7 sells smoothies, frozen yogurt, burgers and fries. It’s really good, but I’ve definitely developed a bad habit with purchasing from it.
--Navigating around a ship: This was REALLY hard for a few days, but I’ve learned my way around. But in addition to getting used to which staircase leads where, what direction is portside, what a nautical mile is compared to a land-mile the worst part is DEFINITLY the time changes. In case you haven’t guessed, we go through A LOT of time zones in the semester, and instead of just throwing us into them the moment we land, we like to adjust slowly. This makes a lot of sense, but hasn’t worked in my favor. So every other or every few days we advance an hour. So far, though, EVERY SINGLE TIME CHANGE has occurred on nights before B days. I have an 8am class on B-days (which is why I said it was really 7am above) but don’t start until 10:45 on A days, so it’s pretty aggravating that those 8am A-dayers get off so easily.
--Keeping in touch: There is a free e-mail service for students. We are given a semester at sea account and can e-mail home whenever. The file size limits are too small to send pictures, but at least we can communicate. There are also a limited number of free websites – one news site (something called Myway), a few travel sites, a few academic resources, the SAS homepage and Wikipedia (WHICH I LOVEEEEEEEE), but everything else we haven’t paid for. This may sound harsh, but you really learn to live without. In fact, I have so far used a whopping total of 0 minutes of my allotted 2 free hours.
--Facebook/Twitter/Cell Phones: I thought I would have spent 3 or 4 days in complete withdrawal, reaching for my phone for it not to be there, typing in facebook on my browser only to get a login to use my minutes page, amazed by the freedom of not having to limit my life to 140 characters, culminating in a sign of relief and liberation from being freed from addiction. But none of this has happened. I haven’t once tried to log on to faecbook. In fact, in the time in Rio when I had wifi I didn’t even use it. I didn’t care to. The only times I have missed my cell phone are when I have plans to meet someone at a certain time and can’t find them. I think to myself “I wish I could text them right now.” And that’s it. No thoughts about twitter, nothing about cell phone games. I don’t care about what new facebook notifications I might have. I don’t care about new friend requests. I don’t care about your status update. Truth is, my life is a hell of a lot more awesome than your dinner at McDonald’s with your friends. I don’t care about checking my e-mail, and I don’t care about stalking random peoples lives, mostly because mine is way more awesome. It would be a nice outlet to be able to share photographs with the people back home, but they can wait until May. The ones I really like anyway have my e-mail while on the boat. The truth is, I just live without it. I have no positive or negative feels towards being without it. It’s just not there.
--Events on the ship: I envisioned myself being so bored that I don’t know what do with myself. I pictured “I’m on a ship in the middle of the ocean and have NOTHING TO DOOOOOO.” I thought I’d read so many books, watch so many movies, even pick up a new language. In reality, I don’t have even close to enough time to do everything I want to. Homework alone takes up a whole lot of time, but there are also literally an endless amount of clubs, seminars, lectures, games, sports and classes going on that I find myself having to choose rather than have spare time. I already had to drop Salsa club due to lack of time. And I barely have time for the stuff I am participating in (which I’ll discuss below). There are also game nights, where we have had shipwide games of The Liar’s Club or Family Feud, movie nights, Jam Sessions (we currently have a Ghanaian musician on board playing each night from Brazil to Ghana), exploration seminars, language clubs and everything in between. In addition to attending various events across the ship board community, including Jam sessions, Movie Nights, Yoga, Zumba, Game Nights, Pre-ports (the two nights before docking in a country, the first one is cultural preport and is optional the one the night before is linguistal preport and is mandatory), seminars, sign making and more, I’ve joined a sign language club, a Spanish conversation group, Big Brother/Big Sister, and Extended family. For sign language, I’ve become a pro at the alphabet and some basic questions, but not much more, but even so, that could get me a long way, however slow it might take to do so. For the big brother/big sister program I have been paired with an 11 year old girl named Lindsey. Her mother is a management professor on board and I share her with her other big sister Shannon. My extended family consists of 6 students and 1 lifelong learner.
There are also random days with events at sea as well. Most recently, we celebrated Neptune Day, where we left behind the world of being polywags and became full-fledged sailors for having crossed the equator. The day consisted of being woken up by drummers walking down the hallway yelling at us to wake up, initiation ceremonies full of slime (little kid dream come true – Slime Time Live style), jumping in pools, kissing frogs, meeting King Neptune (who just happened to be our dean, who painted himself Green), and, for some (not me), shaving their heads. We also had our first global studies discussions that day, which is when the entire ship is divided into groups of around 20 to basically discuss our experiences thus far. We keep the same group the whole voyage, and met them all during orientation on day 2, so it’s a really cool way to keep a sort of constant and see how we all change together.
I’m sure I’ll have more to say at some point – but for now I have taken far too much time away from my homework than I’d like to admit.