everything i need to know about life i learned from traveling on a bus...

Several months ago I typed an email update listing all the “worldly things” I missed while being away from home.

...

“Well, here I am sitting on my bed typing this email to you...It has been 65 days since my last diet coke, or brewed coffee. I can hardly believe I am making such a statement...it sounds flippant, but I never savored these small enjoyments, and now I miss them dearly in their absence.

66 days ago I boarded a British Airways airplane and left my diet coke, brewed coffee life behind. I left behind my salary, my car, and all my high heels. I left behind pedicures, and blonde highlights, and even wifi. I left behind my expensive taste, and my comfortable lifestyle. I left behind everything I have even known for 24 years of life! I boarded an airplane to leave it all behind.”

...

While my time in Ghana is coming to an end, my mind is swirling with all the “worldly things” I will get to experience once my feet touch American soil again. It’s pretty invigorating. Hot water, Venti Mocha Frappechinos, a microwave... what more could a girl want?

When I came to Ghana I had one desire. My desire was to leave everything behind in search of meaning and purpose, in hopes to follow the example of Jesus, in expectation to help the world become a better place.

Mother Teresa’s words became my mantra,

“I can do no great thing, only small things with great love.”

I wanted to love so fiercely that the world would have no other choice but to call for change.

I came to Ghana in hopes to “change the world”, and here’s what happened...

"The world changed me!"

This revelation came to me while riding on a bus. I don’t know how significant the bus is in this revelation but,

“Thank you, bus!”

I once read a book about Taoism and one if the author’s points fits well here so I will quote it. The author said,

“Knowledge and experience do not necessarily speak the same language. But isn’t the knowledge that comes from experience more valuable than the knowledge that doesn’t?”

While I have been in Ghana I have made many mistakes (confession) and someone made the comment that my mistakes where due to the fact that I am young and simply naive... well DUH, that’s an observation worth writing home about! My response to this person (after I suppressed my young, naive initial thoughts) was...

“It’s okay, you might have learned all these lessons through your life experiences, but this is my life experience, so when did you think I was going to learn it?”

When I said those words aloud in my young, naive defense to being young and naive they took resonance (well, to me anyway).

And so I will end this message in a spirit of gratitude, since I can’t actually write a thank you note to the country of Ghana (my mom would be so proud to hear those words, “thank you note”). I will write a thank you blog and share to with those of you who have followed me through this journey over the last 10 months... here it goes...

Thank you Ghana.

This journey has been sweaty, dirty, intolerable, and impossible.

Thank you Ghana.

This journey has been exhausting, invigorating, depleting, renewing, and heartbreaking.

Thank you Ghana.

This journey has been undeniably terrifying, yet unforgettably transforming.

Thank you Ghana.

This journey has been a life experience that has changed my world forever.

Thank you Ghana. Your presence forced my world to change, and for that I am ever grateful!

Mark Twain was right, finding out is better!

Thank you Ghana.

** and a special thank you to everyone who has read my emails, blog notes, and has been thinking of me... your thoughts and prayers have been nothing short of miraculous, because God has answered them all. thank you.**

in the shower with cabbage...

a weekly ritual... sanitizing my produce in the shower... capful of bleach and a 20 minute soak, apparently this kills typhoid... so far so good!

in a hole...

I walked across the road to buy some bread and I was stopped in my tracks when I spotted three small boys playing in a water main hole.... I hid behind a building.... I stood and watched them laugh, giggle, and speak to each other for several minutes before they took notice of me... Then I ran back to my house to collect my camera....a good moment!

stimulants... a teacher's best friend!

I never thought myself to be a morning person... then I began teaching, now I love the morning... it's like another day within the day... it is AMAZING what one can accomplish when they quit sleeping until noon (HA!).

One time while teaching (in the U.S.A.) I was walking down the hallway to greet my students for the day when a parent walked by me and held up his travel coffee mug to motion "cheers". I looked down at my coffee mug and raised it in response...

"Here's to coffee," he said, "My Life Blood!"

Since then I have never looked back... let's just say coffee has become my lifeblood, even in Ghana!

"Cheers to 2010, and my travel coffee mug!"

****New Term Begins Tuesday, January 12th... Time to dust off the ol' travel coffee mug!***

completely off topic...

I know it’s a security precaution but seriously?

I am soooo OVER the “secret messages” I have to type just to send an email and this is why... I can’t do it! No lie, EVERY time one of those encrypted strands of random letters and numbers appears on my screen I have to hit the handicap button! By the way... does having a handicap button offend anyone... Perhaps those who are handicapped? I wanna know because it certainly offends me!

Just an impulsive thought I was having as I was sending emails this afternoon... thought I would put in the blog universe!

fufu...okay i did it!

Okay some of you who know me well might understand how "monumental" this post is for me... but for those of you who don't know me, let me explain myself (or perhaps defend my insanity).

I am not only a girl with "huge" and I mean "HUGE" food issues, but still haunting me in the back of my mind are childhood memories of restaurant tantrums and grocery store meltdowns all incidents having one underlying nucleus, FOOD...

One time, and I can recall this instance well, I was at a restaurant with my mom (God bless her soul...LOL) when the head chef decided to jazz up my order of plain butter noodles by adding a garnish of herbs... I think the waitress actually had to run for cover after she put the plate in front of me... I was eight!

Another time, and this was in high school, I was dating a boy who had so conveniently forgotten to mention to his mom that I was a vegetarian, she (his mom) had asked me to stay for dinner and I was cautious to accept, but knew it was kind of a lose lose situation if you know what I mean. Anyway, dinner was spaghetti which I thought would be safe because growing up in New York spaghetti meant meatballs and meatballs could be easily avoided... However, I was not in New York anymore, and meatballs are an uncommon phenomenon south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Let me just say I sat and ate meat infested spaghetti sauce for that boy! This was the beginning of many forced feedings... and rightly so, I have begun a long and exasperating battle against the fickle eater inside of me. Every mealtime she really wants to rear her capricious, troublesome, only-child nature, but I hold her back for the public safety and welfare of all humanity (okay sometimes I slip and she wins the battle, but we won't talk about that in public)!

My Christmas present to the Republic of Ghana (I hope she understands the mere significance of it all)... Eating fufu with light soup (and goat meat).

Banana Bread

After weeks of searching I collected all the ingredients to bake banana bread. This was not a specific craving of mine, perhaps it stemmed from all the women I see walking around Yendi carrying baskets of banana on their heads.
I have made banana bread many times in the states, and in fact, I made banana bread all summer while working at the Fly Creek General Store, in New York... I guess what I am hinting at, is that I am not an amateur banana bread baker.
SoIi searched for weeks for all in ingredients. White flour, white sugar, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda (this was the most difficult ingredient to find), I even had to travel one hour from yendi to purchase bread pans.
One sunday evening I was feeling ambitious so I decided I would make a batch. I followed a recipe and mixed all the required ingredients together. As I was pouring the batter into bread pans, I realized that the stove was not turned on to preheat. The oven in my house is a compact gas/electric range with a gas burning oven. When I opened the oven door I realized there was no pilot light, and I had to manually light the burners. I asked two women who work at the mission center next door to my house to help me light the oven. They came over and showed me how to turn on the gas cylinder and light the top over burner. I was very excited to bake my bread so I put two bread pans in the oven and set the timer. After about thirty minutes, I went to the kitchen to check the progress of my creation. The top of the bread seemed to to be browning nicely, but it was not rising exactly as I remember it doing from previous experiences. I accounted the lack of rising to inadequate measuring spoons and “guesstimation” on the baking soda and baking powder. My initial thought was to add more baking soda in the next batch. After two hours, the batter had not improved and I was losing hope... I took the pans out of the oven and new that all my efforts were lost (at least on this batch of bread). After the oven cooled down I moved some of the racks around and noticed a compartment at the bottom of the oven. When I pulled on the top of the compartment, I lifted up a cover to reveal another gas burner. It turns out I was trying to cook banana bread on broil! I was dumbfounded, why had I not thought of this before? Of course, the top burner in the oven is always designated for broiling, what was I thinking cooking banana bread on broil? Needless to say, once I figured out the oven situation, I baked another batch and now my Ghanian friends are begging me to bake more “American bread”, I’ll just light the correct burner before baking it!
...entry written on 17 September 2009

Sights & Sounds

Every morning I wake up to a rooster crowing in my front yard and the Islamic call to prayer resounding through the speakers of the closest mosque. And for one split moment I have a brief lapse of awareness... "Where am I? What time is it? Someone tell that rooster to go back to sleep." Then suddenly, my memory returns and my questions are answered, "I am in Yendi...It is too early to look at the clock...someone please eat that rooster for dinner!" After a cold shower and instant coffee I am ready for my day.
Today is market day and I need to purchase some baskets for the school library. I ride my bicycle into town (approximately one mile) and park it with a friend at the IRS building (yes, they even have an Internal Revenue Service in Ghana). With small bills in hand (mysteriously, no one ever has change for any bills higher than a 5.00) I venture into the market and begin my hunt. I have to manuver carefully and watch for oncoming motorbike, huge trucks hauling goods, bicycles carrying baskets of live chickcns, and herds of goats. People are everywhere. I smell a woman frying yams and the distinct odor of diesel fuel all in the same breath. While stepping around each small stand displaying items for purchase, I see what I have come looking for; baskets. Yendi is a small farming community and market day only happens once a week, I look forward to this day every week, and instead of traveling the one hour to Tamale (the closest city) in search of baskets I have decided to wait for market day to find my items. I negotiate with the lady selling the baskets and she puts my purchase in a black plastic bag. While walking back to my bicycle, I purchase some fried yams from the woman I passed earlier (this purchase is also placed in a black plastic bag). I tie my baskets on the back of my bicycle and take off for home.
The ride home is slightly uphill and today I stopped at a small stand near my neighborhood mosque to buy a few more items. A loaf of bread and two cans of coke (in a black plastic bag of course) are added to my other purchases of the day. The road from town to my house is very busy with foot traffic, motorbikes, and bicycles. I have to listen for car horns greeting me from behind, warning me to move over to the shoulder of the road. Children that saw me passing on my way to town are waiting at the curb of the road to wave as I ride back by, "slaminga" (white lady) they shout as they frantically wave. I respond, "daebaewula" (hello) and they shout in English, "Good morning, how are you?" I am peddling too fast to continue the conversation, but then more children are waiting and yelling as I pass them by. It's quite beautiful really, I am they most exciting sight of their day, and they are of mine...entry written on 30th August 2009.